Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
The CSIs were more thorough than Nick was comfortable with, taking every piece of Parker’s clothing down to his socks and shoes.
They were polite enough to provide booties and scrubs, but Nick went back to the car for the sweats because Parker was demanding to know how anyone was expected just to walk away from a crime scene wearing what feels like and has the insulation of a paper towel.
Nick, I’m not even wrong here. This is literally paper from a Greyhound Bus station bathroom.
When they were safely ensconced in Nick’s car, seat belt in place, Nick took a long breath in and out, letting himself finally acknowledge the panic that had been eating his stomach since he’d gotten the news from Tate.
Parker shifted uncomfortably, fiddling with his seat belt and the satchel they’d rescued from Parker’s car.
“I mean, this one wasn’t even my fault,” he said, an adorable crease between his brows.
“Okay, it was a little my fault, but like, I’d say only ten percent, twenty if we’re rounding up, and if you count the fact that I didn’t even do the exploding-the-guy part, really the only thing I’m responsible for is taking the case and not calling the cops right away when I walked into person-soup, which, in my defense, I was really grossed out by the whole thing. It was very disgusting!”
“Let’s just get home,” Nick said. He found himself relaxing into the patter of Parker’s narration, and the reassurances about his safety actually did work.
Nick had never been with anyone as capable as Parker. When he’d first come out, his mother had provided him with an annotated list of acceptable partners—all alchemists, all near his age, all from important families.
His last boyfriend before Parker had argued cases in front of the Supreme Court. He had been so busy that Nick had only seen him four times in three months. His father had approved of the man, deeply satisfied that his son was now dating someone who would add to the family legacy.
Nick was pretty sure that, if faced with a person who had turned into a giant pile of goo, his ex would have panicked, collapsed, and possibly contaminated the entire crime scene.
“I don’t even know why I’m a suspect. If I went around killing all the people my clients wanted me to, I would be an assassin, not a PI.” Parker gestured with both hands, spreading them wide enough that one hit Nick on the shoulder.
“I wouldn’t lead with that if you want to stay out of jail,” Nick said. “Starting with ‘maybe I’m an assassin’ is a red flag for most cops.”
There was a parking spot outside their building, and Nick slid into it efficiently. He waited for Parker to get out before checking the circles he’d put up to prevent theft and accidental damage. It had only taken one kid skateboarding into his car before he’d learned his lesson.
Parker was waiting on the sidewalk for him, tapping his fingers against the strap of his satchel. He looked like he wanted to say something but kept chewing on the words, trying to decide the best way of phrasing them.
Nick shook his head, nudging Parker’s elbow and prodding him into the building. He felt an immeasurable affection grow in his chest, like it was taking up all the room, all the space he had.
When they reached their door, Parker said, “I’m sorry if this hurts your job.
I know that you’re just getting out of the doghouse after the whole Sun god thing, and I really don’t want this to mess up your job.
I’ll go myself tomorrow, and I’ll try to keep your name out of it.
Maybe McArdle didn’t write your name down? ”
Nick turned, his keys jangling. He stared at Parker and felt that affection bloom, a flower that never would have been possible before Parker. Raising his hands, he cupped Parker’s face and kissed him.
“I’m so glad you’re safe.” He smirked when Parker stared at him, mouth open in surprise.
As Nick unlocked the door, Parker seemed to shake off the feeling, his mouth already moving, even as it was clear he was still warm from the kiss.
“Is that like an ‘I’m so glad you’re safe, now get inside so I can read you the riot act’?
Or an ‘I’m so glad you’re safe, but now you have to sleep on the couch’? ”
Nick held the door open for Parker and shook his head as Parker came up with even more ridiculous scenarios.
He placed his keys on the entryway table, along with his wallet and badge.
Walking upstairs, Parker still following behind him, he put his service weapon in his gun safe and began stripping off his clothes.
“Parker,” he said finally when Parker was beginning to suggest a series of increasingly implausible ways he could make it up to Nick. “You’re not going to clean the kitchen for a year. You don’t even clean the kitchen now. Go shower. I’ll make dinner.”
“Okay,” Parker said, his eyes narrowed suspiciously. He began taking off his clothes, and Nick watched out of the corner of his eye.
The long lines of Parker’s body caught the fading light from the window, painting him an ombre orange. His lean muscles spoke to functionality rather than display. Nick knew every scar, every birthmark like it was a map he had memorized.
Parker wasn’t self-conscious, but he did always have a slight questioning smirk in the corner of his lips when Nick appreciated his body, as though he didn’t quite understand why Nick found him attractive.
But how anyone had ever looked at Parker and seen anything short of perfection was beyond Nick.
When Parker headed to the bathroom, Nick walked down to the kitchen.
There was a plate of homemade cookies in the middle of the counter with a note from Sugar that read I’m going to a western.
Nick squinted at it before setting it back down for Parker to decide if she meant a John Wayne movie or if the man’s dick was just so big that…
Shaking his head, he opened the refrigerator and pulled out the start of dinner. Some leftover rice, vegetables, a few pieces of tofu. By the time Parker got out of the shower, dewy and fresh, Nick had something that resembled fried rice.
“That smells good,” Parker said, sliding past him on his way to the cabinet.
Nick caught him around the waist and pressed a kiss to his lips, dragging a laugh out of Parker.
Grabbing two wineglasses, Parker said, “Okay, what is it with you? No reading me the riot act so far, you haven’t said anything about my right to remain silent, and this might be punishment vegetables, but you’re adding a lot of soy sauce, so I don’t think it is? ”
Nick shut off the stove and put two plates on the island, filling them with food. “Tomorrow, I’m going with you, and you’re taking the defense lawyer I have on retainer.”
He rushed the last so maybe Parker wouldn’t hear the on retainer part.
“No, Nick, I’m serious. You should probably stay out of—wait, I’m sorry, did you say you have a defense lawyer on retainer?
” Parker’s eyes narrowed, and he put down the bottle of wine he was holding so that he could gesture with both hands.
“You’re that sure that I’m going to get in trouble that you’re paying some lawyer to sit around and wait for me to get arrested? ”
“No,” Nick said, trying for calm, but he could see his tone made Parker’s jaw tighten.
“I don’t think it’s you, but you have to admit, trouble does seem to find you, and not every cop is going to be as sympathetic as Tate is.
Someone is going to see you standing in a crime scene, covered in blood, and think, This guy murdered someone! ”
“Yeah, well, I didn’t murder anyone!”
“I never said you did!” Nick put both hands on his hips. “Think of it like life insurance. No one expects to die, but it’s nice to have a good payout if you do.”
Parker narrowed his eyes. “Nick, did you take out life insurance on me?”
“Yes,” Nick admitted. “As soon as we moved in together.”
“This is a Lifetime movie,” Parker moaned. “You’re about to kill me. Are these poisoned vegetables?”
“Parker, they’re vegetables, not poison,” Nick said. “Eat them.”
Shaking his head, Parker stabbed a snow pea. “I know how you work, Nicholas King. First, the healthy eating. Next, you’re going to expect me to start Pilates or CrossFit.”
Nick hid a smile. “Wouldn’t that defeat the purpose of my black widow plan?”
“People die from working out all the time! Heart attacks. Weights falling on them. Those resistance bands.” Parker narrowed his eyes at Nick, the smile that played in the corner of his lips turning into a grin as Nick started laughing.
“Parker, there are so many easier ways to kill you than forcing you to eat healthy and work out,” Nick said.
“I really think you’ve given this some thought.” Parker ate another bite of the fried rice and closed his eyes, moaning in pleasure. “I don’t think I like that.”
“You’ll take me and the lawyer tomorrow?” Nick asked.
“Is she going to tell them that I’m invoking my right to remain silent?” Parker asked. “Because, uh, I really don’t do well with silence.”
“You don’t say,” Nick said, deadpan. “Hopefully with her there, you’ll be able to explain what you were doing there. Which was…”
“You remember the gold digger case I’m working?” Parker asked, his fork scraping across his plate.
Nick frowned. “The guy who the daughter thinks is marrying her mom for her money?”
“Yeah. Cayo Durkavic. Talk about a guy who looks like he does CrossFit. So my client is convinced that this guy is after her mom for Mom’s money.
Only she doesn’t have any evidence, and he’s willing to sign a prenup, so she wants me to tail him and see if I can spot what game he’s running.
” Parker leaned forward, getting into the story, and Nick loved the way his eyes lit up, the grin on his face as he could see he had Nick’s full attention.
“Was he planning to sign the prenup but then move everything into a shared account? That would get around any clauses in the prenup.” Nick thought back to the documents his parents had made him and Parker sign before they’d gotten married.
“Maybe, who knows? All I know is that he walked into the smoke shop, and then I heard some shouting in Russian, and so I went to check it out.” Parker leaned in even further, and Nick found himself mirroring him, waiting to hear what happened.
“And when I get to the door, Durkavic has his back to me, and he’s pulsing.
His skin is literally pulsing. I open the door, and before I even finish—” Parker mimed an explosion with his hands, fingers spreading wide. “—person soup. Red mist.”
“You didn’t tell the cops you saw the explosion,” Nick pointed out.
“Yeah, well, they didn’t really give me a chance.” Parker made a face. “There was a lot of ‘get down on the ground’ and ‘how did you do this,’ and one guy threw up.”
Nick leaned back, staring at his own half-finished plate. “Okay. Let’s see what Major Crimes has to say.”
“Yeah.” Parker slouched in his bar chair. He finished his plate, his eyes darting to the cookies. He grabbed one and picked up Sugar’s note, frowning as he read it.
“So, the western,” Nick said. “Is she—”
“Riding a guy with a dick like a horse?” Parker asked. “Yeah. Most definitely.”