Chapter Sixteen
DAVE
Dave tried not to grin, because Christian really was just that exasperating sometimes, but he couldn’t help the fond smile that tugged at his lips as he cleaned up the mess he’d made. Christian was belting out some sort of rock-bluegrass fusion in the shower—and he complained about Dave’s singing?
But when he left the bathroom and pulled his jeans on, the grin faded from his face. He didn’t know whether that had been distraction or just Christian doing what he always did, pretending there was nothing to talk about.
For those moments, it had felt like they were back on solid ground again. But that was the thing, wasn’t it? He kept finding his footing, only to realize the ground beneath him was shifting.
Dave pulled on his shirt, fingers moving more slowly than usual as he thought. Christian had been glowing this morning. He looked better after a night of fighting than most people did after a spa weekend. Relaxed and easy in that way he got when he was happy.
They want us, Christian had said last night, with something wild and hopeful in his voice. Dave hadn’t known what to say then. He still didn’t. Because Christian had looked at that fight club and seen a pack.
Dave rubbed at his chest absently, then stilled his hand. He wasn’t going to ruin this day before it started. Not when Christian had smiled at him this morning like he was everything good in the world.
He’d just put his socks on when there was a knock on the door. Pausing to pull the bathroom door closed, because he wouldn’t put it past Christian to wander out naked and give housekeeping a hell of a view, Dave crossed the room to answer.
His jaw dropped because it wasn’t a housekeeper standing there, but Justin. His hair gleamed gold in the sun, and his soft green eyes were brought to life by the dark-green sweatshirt he was wearing as he smiled, a hint of shyness in his face.
After the first instant of surprise, Dave remembered. Christian’s revelation had driven everything else from his head.
“Damn it,” he said, and Justin’s smile faltered. “No, I’m sorry, I forgot about our session, but your timing could not be better.”
He glanced back to find the impromptu rock concert was still going strong in the bathroom and stepped out into the morning sunshine, closing the door behind him. “I was just about to get started on my morning routine. You want to go over by the pool?”
“Wherever,” Justin said easily and fell into stride beside Dave, heading diagonally across the lot to the swimming pool.
It had been drained for the winter, but the paved enclosure still had a couple of trees and some potted plants.
Not much, but better than the lot. It wasn’t exactly what he was used to at home, where his favorite spot for morning meditation was an outcrop from which he could see for miles over open country.
Just as he opened the gate to the pool enclosure, his phone buzzed in his pocket.
“Rule number one,” he said, with a rueful grin at Justin. “Switch off your phone.”
The answering smile on Justin’s face was like the sun coming out.
Dave froze. He’d missed it, damn it, but he could see now as clear as day that Justin thought this was something it wasn’t.
Something it could never be, not when Dave had already given his heart away, and Christian—stubborn, flawed, wonderful Christian—still hadn’t handed it back.
He pulled out his phone, buying a moment to think. Should he say something straight out? Or if he just backed off, maybe Justin would get the message.
He was also curious who the text could be from.
It wouldn’t be Christian. He knew Dave’s routine by heart, knew that he’d have taken himself off to do hippie stuff, as he called it, no matter that his discipline drills did almost exactly the same thing—“but that’s a martial art, emphasis on the martial”—and there wasn’t anyone else who’d call.
Except for the pack. Suddenly worried, he unlocked his phone.
It was from Tristan. Matt told me to send this. Possible suspect for that thing. Shame you’re not here—Councilor Steadman’s awesome. Colby says hi.
This turned out to be a photograph of a burly guy with very short hair, standing in what Dave instantly recognized as the living room at the ranch.
As he looked at the bulging biceps and pecs straining a tight black T-shirt, he wondered just who this was and what he was doing there.
But Tristan sounded relaxed, so it probably wasn’t anything he needed to worry about.
He sent back a quick thanks, making sure to say hi to Colby—Tristan was still beaming with pride and pleasure about the fact they were mates, and he managed to work that detail into almost every conversation.
Dave shook his head as he hit send. He and Christian had never been like that.
When they’d realized they were mates, they’d had celebratory sex, then carried on as if nothing had changed.
And maybe that explained where they were now, because they hadn’t tried to work out what it meant for them.
“Everything okay?” Justin asked, and Dave realized he was frowning.
“Yeah,” he said, turning his phone off. Then he thought again, and turned it back on.
The best way to shake the ludicrous idea about staying here out of Christian’s head was to get on a plane back home as fast as possible, and the only way to make that happen was to get an answer to their question.
Screw subtle—it had turned up jack shit.
He opened the attachment to Tristan’s text and passed the phone over to Justin.
“Recognize this guy?”
It was a one-in-a-million chance, and he didn’t really expect a reaction. He sure as hell didn’t expect the reaction he got. All color fled from Justin’s face as he stared at the phone, then he pushed it back at Dave as if it had burned him.
“Who are you?” he asked, voice low and raw, eyes wide with something close to fear.