RelationShip Goals

6

They spent the next four days almost exclusively in each other’s company as Evan shadowed Marco and filmed activities for his podcast and did an interview with Marco for the same. At night Evan would retire to his cabin, knowing Marco would join him as soon as he was released from duty for the night.

On the last night of the cruise, they lay on the bed, boneless, and talking softly.

“Tomorrow I go home,“

Evan said. “I don’t think I’ve ever wanted a vacation not to end as much as this one.”

“I know. But this is my last cruise before my vacation. I get two months off. Didn’t you say you still lived in New Jersey?”

“Yup. Little town called Saddle Brook, in North Jersey. Bergen County.”

Marco grinned, and sat up, leaning on one elbow. “I keep an apartment in Tom’s River. I like the Jersey shore, and the change of seasons, and it’s close to the Atlantic City and Newark airports for when I need to travel back down to Florida.”

Evan brightened and sat up as well. “Are you saying you want to get together in Jersey?”

“Evan, this has been a whirlwind shipboard romance, but I think there’s something between us worth exploring further, don’t you? I knew it from the minute I remembered who you were.”

“Oh, hell yeah! I really didn’t want to say goodbye, Marco, not again, but I didn’t want you to think I was clingy and immature. Tell me, do you like cats?”

Marco looked confused. “Um, yeah?”

“Good, because I have a big one named Bootsy.”

“I love cats, and I think you’re practically perfect.“

Marco pulled him in for another kiss. “This could work out between us, you know. During my four months onboard ship, I can bring you aboard as a guest for a cruise or two. You can review it for your podcast – different ports, you know? Then we can have my two months off together in Jersey.”

Evan cracked a wide, delighted smile. “I like the sound of that.“

He grabbed his cellphone. “Give me your number.” He rapidly thumbed it in, and Marco’s phone beeped. “There. I sent you my address.”

Marco returned the favor, also with a beaming grin. “Now, I must leave you, but I’ll see you at breakfast tomorrow before we disembark.”

“Good. I’m having breakfast with Patti and Jo. I’m going to have to confess to them that they were right about you. They’ll know it the moment they see me look at you anyway.”

Marco laughed. “Yes, me, too. They’ve tried setting me up for years, but this is the only time they got it right.”

“Marco, seriously, I’m so glad I met you again. You were just what I needed to get out of the funk I’ve been living in.”

“Believe me, it was all my pleasure, Evan. I’m glad I met you, too. I think we’ve really got something going between us. Something that could be wonderful.”

Evan answered with another kiss, and this time it felt like a promise.

About Kiernan Kelly

Kiernan Kelly has been writing and publishing m/m romance for over twenty years. She has over one hundred titles to her credit.

Website: kiernankellybooks.com

Total Eclipse of the Ghost

Jordan L. Hawk

When Jake rented a luxury cabin on a cruise liner, he didn’t expect to find his brand-new room haunted by a hunky ghost.

“I have a problem.”

My friend Desirée sits down next to me at the bar. This is our usual watering hole on the ship, and the bartender has our favorite drinks committed to memory, so she only has to nod when he asks, “Pi?a colada?”

As the bartender starts busying himself with the drink, Desirée asks, “So what has Tyler done now?”

I pause before answering, unsure if she’ll think I’ve lost my mind. The bar is on an upper deck, open to the silky Caribbean wind, with a stunning view of the sunset.

I’ve always loved cruise ships. Even when I was young and struggling, I’d squirrel away enough money to take at least one trip a year. Something about being on the open ocean, the wind in my hair, soothes my soul like nothing else in the world. After my company took off, I had the money to cruise more, but not the time, so I still could only squeeze one in a couple of times a year.

But last year everything finally came together. I turned fifty and sold the company to an ethical competitor. My payout ensured I could retire early and take as many cruises as I wanted. Not only that, but in a twist that felt like destiny, RNJ Cruises—my favorite line—had just launched a new vessel, the Fable, offering cabins for a twelve year lease. I snapped one up as soon as they became available.

Even better, this inaugural voyage will take us into the path of totality for a solar eclipse, something I’ve always wanted to see. So did Desirée, so I brought her with me.

Everything was going to be perfect.

And for about three hours, it was. Then I ran into my ex, Tyler.

He was emerging from the outdoor pool as I walked past. He’d started to go gray in his early forties and now was a certified silver fox. His light hair contrasted with a deep tan he’d picked up some time since our breakup last year.

He’d also acquired a gym membership in that period, because I didn’t recall the abs traced by the droplets from the pool. I’d never been jealous of water before.

Then he turned those intense green eyes on me and smiled, and I knew I was in deep trouble.

Ever since, I’ve been trying to remind myself of the reasons we broke up. Namely, that he’d been cheating on me, then had the gall to blame the long hours I worked for it. I pointed out he could have tried talking to me before sticking his dick in one of his co-workers, and our final fight escalated from there.

But as hard as I’ve been trying to remember how much he hurt me, he’s been luring me back in. An invitation to dinner at the most romantic restaurant on board, late-night drinks at the martini bar, tagging along on an excursion with Desirée and me, during which he bought me a stunning painting to hang in my new cabin.

Sadly, I now have an even bigger problem to distract me from thoughts of Tyler. “My cabin is haunted.”

Desirée looks at my mojito. “How many of those have you had, Jake?”

“Just the one.“

I take a sip, trying to let the mint and lime flavors distract me from my problem. It doesn’t work. “What am I going to do?”

The chunky bracelets she loves to wear clatter as she picks up her pi?a colada. “Start with telling me why you think it’s haunted.”

“I’ve woken up every night since we launched seven days ago.“

I take another, larger gulp of the mojito to fortify myself. “The first night, the light in the bathroom was on. I assumed I’d left it on myself and turned it off. When I woke up, it was back on.”

“Electrical problems?“

she suggests.

“That’s what I thought. But they sent up an electrician who assured me everything is in working order. Then more things started happening. I went to sleep with my jacket flung over a chair and woke up to find it put away—and before you ask, it wasn’t the steward, I always throw the deadbolt. And I wasn’t drunk enough to black out and start cleaning up.“

I shove my mojito back a little; I’m going through it faster than I intended. “A few other things like that happened…and then last night, I finally saw him.”

Desirée gasps. “The ghost is a man? What did he look like?”

I hesitate before answering. The truth is, I’d been having an erotic dream when I woke up, and for a moment I’d thought the handsome man standing by the bed was part of it. He’d seemed as solid as Desirée is now, mid-to-late forties, with thick wavy hair, a fit body, and tanned skin.

Deep brown eyes widened when I met his gaze. I’d been too shocked to say anything—then even more shocked when he simply disappeared.

“Hot,“

I confess. “He was hot.”

“Oooh!“

Her eyes widen. “We should hold a seance and find out what he wants!”

“What’s this about a seance?“

Tyler asks from behind us.

I stifle a groan. I risked telling Desirée because she’s into psychics and tarot cards and all that woo-woo stuff. Tyler absolutely isn’t.

Not that I care what he thinks. Much. It’s not like we’re getting back together. Right?

“Jake’s cabin is haunted!“

Desirée practically bounces in her seat. “We’re going to talk to the ghost!”

Tyler doesn’t say anything, just arches one gray eyebrow. “A brand new cabin on a brand new ship?”

I feel myself shriveling up inside. Of course it sounds nuts. Why the hell would there be a ghost in my cabin? This isn’t the Queen Mary, no one’s even had a chance to die onboard yet, let alone in a room I’ve been occupying since day one.

“I know,“

I admit. “It was probably just a dream.”

The person on the other side of me finishes their drink and leaves. Tyler immediately slides into the seat and orders a whiskey sour. “Sleep paralysis,“

he diagnoses. “Happens all the time.”

“Sleep paralysis doesn’t turn the lights on or hang up a coat,“

Desirée argues. “Besides, a seance will be fun.”

“Or a waste of time that could be better spent on…other things.“

Tyler gives me a meaningful look with those searing green eyes.

Damn it, sleeping with him would be a huge mistake. Why does he have to look so good?

“Are you worried you’ll see something that will prove there’s more to this world than what you can see?“

Desirée shoots back at him.

Tyler never could resist a challenge—as she well knows. “Fine then—I’ll play along. How are we going to do this?”

I want to kick Desirée. The last thing I need is Tyler anywhere near my bed.

“We don’t have a Ouija board.“

She frowns thoughtfully. “Or any candles. But that’s okay—we’ll make do.”

“Is it safe?“

I ask, suddenly worried about more than sleeping with my ex. I’ve seen enough horror movies to know this could go wrong even without a Ouija board in the mix. Though to be fair, my ghost doesn’t seem particularly menacing.

Not now, anyway. But at three in the morning when I’m all alone, trying to sleep…?

“Sure it’s safe.“

She waves away my concern. Easy for her, she’s not the one with a ghost in her bedroom. “We’ll wait until after sundown. “In the meantime, let’s get sushi for dinner. I’m starving.”

Though there were more spacious cabins available for lease, the one I’ve chosen is relatively small. It includes a bathroom, an area for work and watching TV, the bedroom, and balcony. The bedroom and living room are open plan, and the whole thing is tastefully decorated in ocean blue and sand white, with accents of driftwood gray. The painting Tyler bought for me hangs behind the couch: a dark seascape showing an old-timey schooner battling through a storm.

He smirks when he sees it, as if he’s scored a point. “I knew it would be perfect in your room.”

Not that he’s been inside it before; he’s just that confident. Which honestly had seemed like one of the good things about our relationship—after a long day making decisions at work, it had been nice to hand over the reins to him at home. Too bad one of his decisions was to fuck one of his co-workers in our bed.

We clear a space on the floor in the living room, pushing the coffee table out of the way and arranging ourselves in a circle according to Desirée’s instructions. She takes out a small LED candle that she uses in her own cabin as a nightlight, puts it on the floor, and says, “Let’s all join hands.”

Tyler’s hand is firm and dry in mine. He rubs his thumb across my knuckles—habit from our years together, or because he wants to rekindle the spark we had? I try to ignore the surge of desire his touch sends through me and focus on the flickering fake candle.

“Wait—I forgot to turn the lights off.“

Desirée lets go of my other hand and quickly switches off the cabin lights. The drapes over the balcony doors are drawn, so the only illumination comes from the candle.

“How many times have you done this before?“

Tyler asks as she retakes her place on the floor with us.

“None. But I’ve seen it on YouTube.”

He meets my gaze and rolls his eyes, inviting me to join in making fun of her. I look away instead and focus on the candle.

This ghost is real. I know it is. And I’m going to prove it to Tyler.

“I’d like any spirits to join us,“

Desirée intones, closing her eyes. “Spirits, if you’re there, let us know with a sign.”

Nothing happens.

“A rap on the wall. Or you could move something. Or—oh, I know! Turn on the bathroom light since you like to do that.”

Nothing happens. And continues to not happen as she tries different phrasings and suggestions. After about five minutes, Tyler lets go of her hand, though he keeps hold of mine. “Are we going to sit here talking to the air all night?”

“I guess not.“

Desirée’s bracelets clatter as she drops her hands into her lap. “We can try again tomorrow.”

“We’ll see,“

I say, but I have no intention of making a fool of myself in front of Tyler a second time. Not that I care what he thinks, of course.

We turn the lights back on and Desirée puts her candle back in her purse. “Sorry,“

she says to me. “Want to go to the casino?”

Gambling’s never been my thing, for which I’m grateful. “No thanks. You and Tyler go ahead. I’m just going to sit on the balcony for a while, maybe read a book.”

“I can keep you company,“

Tyler offers.

He looks good tonight, just like always. His light pink polo shirt shows off his biceps and brings out the green of his eyes. I can’t help but remember how great our sex life was, at least at first. Before, yes, I got too busy for more than a quickie.

Would it be that good again?

Maybe, if I could trust myself to cut off my feelings and just enjoy. But there’s too much history between us for that, and I don’t want to get hurt again.

“Thanks, but I’m going to make an early night of it,” I say.

He shrugs. “Next time, then.”

I see them to the door, then shut it and throw the bolt, glad to be alone for a while. Putting my back to the door, I let out a deep sigh.

“I think he’s into you,“

says the ghost.

I barely suppress a shriek. The ghost stands between the living and bedroom areas, wearing a casual t-shirt that clings to his defined pecs and a pair of tight jeans stained with paint splatters that match the color of my walls. He looks just as real as Desirée and Tyler had, except for the fact he appeared out of nowhere.

“Sorry—I didn’t mean to startle you.“

He winces. “I just didn’t want you to miss out, if you weren’t picking up his signals. I can disappear again.”

My heart slows, though my mouth still tastes metallic from adrenaline. “No, no, it’s all right,“

I say, and realize I’m apologizing to a freaking ghost.

Maybe I ought to be more scared, but there’s something about him, the sort of calm aura some people put out. “And I know he’s into me,“

I add. “He’s my ex.”

“Sounds complicated,“

the ghost says sympathetically.

“It shouldn’t be.“

I push myself off the door and brush my hands through my hair. “So why didn’t you show up during the seance?”

The ghost shrugs, a wry look on his face. “I was shy in life, and I guess I am now, too. One-on-one is a lot easier for me.”

Given how hot he is, I wouldn’t say no to some one-on-one…no, what am I thinking, he’s a ghost. “So you know you’re dead.“

I catch myself. “Sorry, was that rude?”

“I don’t think it was rude, and yes.“

He moves back. “If you want to talk, can we open the curtains? I’d like to see the stars.”

“Sure.“

Should I treat him like a guest in my cabin? Though I guess he sort of…well, not lives here. Is dead here?

I sweep back the drapes, which I keep drawn during the day so the air conditioning doesn’t have to compete with the tropical heat. The stars are gorgeous and there isn’t a cloud in the sky. “Can you go out on the balcony?”

“When it’s dark I can.“

He follows me out and takes the seat I gesture to.

“Why are you so solid? I thought ghosts were see-through.”

“I’m not sure—turns out the afterlife doesn’t come with an instruction manual.“

He turns his full attention on me. “So tell me about yourself.”

I hold up my hand. “I’m just an ordinary guy, and you’re a ghost. I think you need to go first. Why are you haunting my cabin?”

“Point taken.“

He gives me a good-humored smile. “Please don’t think I’m normally rude enough to hang out in a stranger’s bedroom. It’s just that…well, I died here.”

“But how? I mean, this is the maiden voyage! No one’s had this cabin before me.”

“True. But a lot of people were in and out when the ship was being built. I was one of the painters getting the room ready. The rest of my crew went on break, but I stayed behind for a few minutes, imagining what it would be like to have enough money to rent this place and just cruise around the world.”

I feel weirdly guilty at that, but keep quiet.

“Next thing I know there’s a pain in my chest. I fell down and couldn’t get back up. Everything started to fade away. All I could think was…“

He catches himself. “Anyway, next thing I knew, I was looking down at my body.”

“What happened?“

I run my gaze down his lean form. “You look like you’re in awfully good shape to have a massive heart attack.”

He shrugs. “I can’t tell you. Heart defect, maybe? They carted my body off and I stayed here, so it wasn’t like I attended the autopsy.”

“Thank goodness for that.“

Seeing your own autopsy would be way too much to handle. “So now you’re, what, stuck here? Do you have unfinished business or something?”

He looks away, gazing out over the dark ocean. Distant lights shine from another cruise ship wending its way toward the eclipse’s path. “Something like that.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

That draws his gaze back to me. “Oh! I, uh. I’ll let you know.”

I want to pry more, but it’s probably something way too personal to share with a virtual stranger. “Right. So.“

I wipe my palms against my shorts in case they’re sweaty and extend a hand to him. “I’m Jake.”

Startled, he puts his hand out as well. I expect it to pass through mine, but he feels as solid as he looks. “Eric.”

“I guess we’re roommates for now.“

The steward is a wonder, but I don’t think even he can locate an exorcist on the open seas. “A few ground rules, if you don’t mind. No turning on the lights in the middle of the night.”

Eric looks abashed. “Sorry. It won’t happen again.”

“I don’t suppose you could show yourself to my ex so he doesn’t think I’m crazy?”

“No.“

He twists his hands together. “I’d get nervous, and that affects my ability to manifest.”

“Damn. Oh well.“

A part of me is confused at how matter-of-fact all this feels. Shouldn’t I be running down the hall screaming? Or demanding my lease be canceled because they didn’t disclose that my cabin is haunted before I signed the paperwork?

There probably aren’t any laws about disclosing deaths on a cruise ship, though. Let alone hauntings. And besides, running and screaming would only upset Eric, and I don’t want to do that. He seems nice, like someone I could be friends with.

The only logical thing is to take advantage of having a roommate I can talk to, who won’t leave wet towels lying around for me to trip over in the middle of the night.

I smile at him. “So, Eric, where are you from?”

Over the next few days, I spend the sunlit hours sleeping or hanging out with Desirée and/or Tyler, and the nights talking to Eric. The more I get to know Eric, the more I like him. Sometimes we sit on the balcony, but there are a couple of nights when he asks if we can use the ship’s internet to stream a show. It turns out he’s really into mysteries and is desperate to find out who the killer is on one he didn’t have a chance to finish while alive.

“Is this your unfinished business?“

I ask him playfully. We’re sitting side-by-side on the couch, getting ready to watch the show on the big-screen TV.

He chuckles, a warm, rich sound. “I’m afraid you aren’t going to get rid of me that easily.”

“Then you’ll have to explain the plot, because I’ve never seen this show before.”

His eyes light up, and he goes into a recap of the convoluted plot and conflicting characters. I try to follow along, but fail. It turns out the show is as much soap opera as mystery, with plenty of dramatic reveals, secret babies, and love triangles. Eric’s description is hilarious, and I find myself wiping away tears of laughter even before we click play.

It becomes part of our routine—I beg off staying out too late, leaving Desirée and Tyler to party while I come back to my cabin and watch an episode or two with Eric. As the days pass, I find myself looking forward to my time with him more and more, and less and less interested in evenings of drinking and dancing.

As we watch the finale, Eric reaches out and casually strokes the back of my neck. I’m not sure he’s even aware of doing it—he seems pretty focused on whether or not the killer is in fact the long-lost evil twin of the detective. But the gesture sends a shiver of delight up my spine, and I almost miss the big reveal (it’s an evil triplet doing the killing).

The next day, I join Tyler and Desirée on our last shore excursion before heading for the path of the upcoming eclipse. We go to RNJ Cruise’s private beach for some sun, saltwater, and sand. I have a good time, but all I can think is how much better it would be if Eric were there. How fun he is to be around, how easy it is to be with him.

I scoop up some sand and tuck it into the key pocket of my swim trunks before we go back. That way I won’t look like a weirdo carting sand back onto the ship.

That evening, I grab a margarita and head for the balcony. When Eric appears, I’m starting to question my decision to bring back a pile of beach sand. Even so, I hold it out to him.

He looks rightfully puzzled. “Thanks?”

“Sorry.“

I sit down in my usual chair, feeling like an idiot. “I went to the beach today, and I was sad you couldn’t come, so I brought you a piece of it. I might have had a couple of mojitos first.”

The smile he gives me makes warmth bloom in my chest. “Thank you. That was really thoughtful.”

Our gazes hold for a long moment, until he finally looks away. “So. What do you want to do tonight? Start another mystery series?”

“Why don’t we just hang out?“

I point to the other chair.

He gives me another grin. “Sounds good.”

We chat for a while, until the conversation naturally comes around to our backgrounds. We’ve already shared the basics—where we’re from, the jobs we’ve had, bad roommate stories, that sort of thing. But now that we’ve spent time together, our talk gets a little more personal.

“I spent too much of my life working,“

Eric confesses. “My relationships never lasted long.”

Seems like we have more in common than liking convoluted soap opera/mysteries featuring evil triplets. “Same here. Tyler was my longest-term boyfriend. When I caught him cheating on me, I was devastated.”

Eric looks at me from across the little drink table between our chairs. “I don’t understand why anyone would do that to you.”

His voice is deep, the tones rich as honey-laced bourbon. Heat rises in my belly, but I sternly remind it that, as much as he seems like a living person, he’s still a ghost. Not that it does any good. Maybe if he were see-through…but he’s so solid when we’re together like this.

I shift awkwardly in my chair. “He said it was because I spent too many hours at work. He put up with it longer than my other boyfriends, but in the end he got too lonely.”

Eric looks incredulous. “Did he try talking it through with you?”

“No!“

I take a too-large sip of my margarita and am rewarded with a cold headache. Putting my drink down, I rub at my face. “If he’d told me he was unhappy, I would have tried to make things right. Hell, if a lack of sex was the problem, we could have discussed opening the relationship. I don’t know why he didn’t.”

“Because he was cheating on you from the very beginning, and came up with an excuse when he was finally caught?”

I’ve never even considered the possibility before now. “No. I mean, I don’t think so?“

I sigh. “I don’t know.”

Eric bites his full lower lip. “You brought him on this cruise—are you thinking about taking him back?”

“Oh—no, I didn’t bring him.“

It’s an obvious assumption to make, though. “I did drag Desirée along for the first month, but it was just a coincidence Tyler is here.” I sigh and slump lower in my chair. “I didn’t think I was ever going to see him again, and then, surprise! Not exactly what I had planned when I came onboard.”

He looks at me with sympathetic eyes. “You probably didn’t plan on having a ghost in your cabin, either. I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t apologize. I’ve had a great time with you! And I’m sure this isn’t where you planned on ending up, but…I’m glad you’re here.”

Is that heat I see blooming in his brown eyes? He licks his lips, and I find myself following the path of his tongue.

“I’m glad, too.“

His smile makes my toes curl. “I’m really lucky you’re the one who ended up renting this room.”

Before I can answer, a streak of light across the sky catches my eye. “Look!“

I jump up and go to the railing, pointing at the falling star.

His work-roughened hands rest on the rail beside mine. “Make a wish before it disappears.”

I watch the green ball of light descend toward the horizon and try to come up with something to wish for. But my mind is blank, because this, right now? Feels perfect.

The meteorite breaks up into three smaller balls of green that quickly fade away. “What did you wish for?“

I ask him.

He turns to me seriously. “I can’t tell you. Then it won’t come true.”

I’m keenly aware of just how close he is to me. We’re of similar height; I would only have to stretch up a little bit to press a kiss to those luscious lips. Everything in me urges me to lean forward, explore his mouth with mine, slip my hands around—

A sharp knock sounds on the cabin door.

Eric instantly vanishes. Disappointment slices through me, followed by uncertainty. Sure, Eric stroked my neck last night, but again, I don’t think he was even aware of it. If I make a move and he’s not into me…well, we’re going to be roommates for a long time. I definitely don’t want to make the next twelve years awkward.

With a sigh, I go inside and open the door to reveal Tyler on the other side.

“There you are.“

He steps forward, and I automatically move back to let him inside. “Why are you hiding in here again? Are you banging the steward?”

“No,“

I snap. “That would be pretty damn unethical.”

He waves a dismissive hand at me. “Anyway, you need to stop sulking in here by yourself. Come out and live a little!”

“I’m not sulking.“

Far from it. As for living a little, I’ve been doing that plenty. Just out of sight, with a ghost. “You and Desirée are on vacation, but I’m going to live here. I can’t party every night or my liver will fall out before the end of the year.”

“All the more reason you should do your partying now, while we’re here.“

Tyler goes and sits on the edge of the bed. “Look, Jake…I understand if you don’t want to hang out with me. I hurt you.”

He’s not wrong, but I’m so surprised to hear him admit it that I don’t reply. He takes my silence as encouragement to continue. “What we had was good, wasn’t it?”

Memories I’ve been holding back rush into my mind. Walking with him through the city streets at sunset, eating ice cream. Driving to the mountains for a weekend getaway, stopping at roadside stands selling fresh-pressed apple cider. Just cuddling up with him after a long day at work.

“Yeah,” I admit.

“Come on—let’s go for a walk on the upper decks. Just you and me.“

He rises to his feet and holds out his hand. I don’t take it, but I do head for the door with him.

At his insistence, we stop at a bar and grab drinks before strolling in the pool area. The grill is closed this time of night, and only a few people are up here, most of them soaking in one of the hot tubs or sitting at the bar.

“I’ve had a lot of time to think,“

Tyler says, looking out to sea. Lightning flashes far in the distance, illuminating the horizon for an instant, then going dark again. “Both of us had a hand in ending things, but I should have fought harder to keep you.”

“Oh.“

I don’t know what else to say to that. Is he looking for a few nights of fun before he leaves the ship, or is he looking for more?

And if he is, which do I want?

Tyler stops and turns to me. “You were—are—the love of my life.”

“Oh,“

I repeat like an idiot. That clarifies things. Then my brain catches up with what’s happening. “Tyler, I just signed a twelve-year lease on a room on this very cruise ship. You know that.”

“I know, but they can’t force you to stay on board. But that doesn’t matter now. What matters is knowing whether or not you’ll give me a second chance.”

I’m more conflicted that I would have expected, if I’d expected anything like this in the first place. Tyler broke my heart…but when our relationship was good, it was amazing. “I…this is all pretty sudden.”

“Of course.“

He reaches out and takes my hand. I remember what those hands can do, and the blood in my body starts to head southward. “Think about it. And in the meantime, will you join me on my balcony tomorrow to see the eclipse?”

I’d been planning to come to the upper deck like everyone else. “Will it have a good view?”

“The best.“

His intense green eyes capture mine. “Say you’ll do it.”

I give in. “Okay.”

He smiles—then leans in and brushes his lips across my cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then,“

he murmurs in my ear, before sauntering away.

Confused, I retreat to my cabin. I need advice, and Eric is the one my mind immediately turns to.

A few seconds after I enter, Eric pops into view. He’s near the balcony door, hands twisting together nervously. “So, uh, I think I might be able to manifest during the eclipse tomorrow,“

he says in a rush, before I can speak. “I know the balcony might not have the best view, but maybe we could watch it together…?”

Guilt makes me wince. Though I don’t have any reason to feel guilty, right? “Sorry. I promised Tyler I’d join him. In his cabin.”

“Oh.“

Eric looks away. “Right. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“Eric—”

“No, it’s okay.“

He smiles at me wistfully. “I guess I missed my chance. Just like always.”

Then he’s gone, and doesn’t return for the rest of the night.

While most of our fellow passengers gather on the top deck, eclipse glasses in one hand and eclipse-themed drinks in the other, I follow Tyler back to his cabin. I’d made my apologies to Desirée earlier, but any guilt I might have felt for not watching the eclipse with her disappeared as soon as I saw her sidle up to a hunk at the bar.

Tyler’s cabin is on the same side as my rental, but midship and two levels down. “I had room service deliver champagne,“

he says, pointing at the bottle chilling in its bucket on the small coffee table. There are two glasses; he pops out the cork and begins pouring without asking.

Eric would have asked first. At one time, I’d liked Tyler’s take-charge attitude, but now I’m remembering how it eventually began to grate on me.

It’s fine. Being here with him, drinking champagne while watching an eclipse, doesn’t mean anything. I know what he said last night, but he probably just wants a quickie.

We take our champagne and head out onto the balcony with our eclipse glasses. The view isn’t as good as it would have been from the top deck, but it’s still awe-inspiring as the edge of the moon begins to cover the sun. The shadows start to look strange, uneven, and the temperature drops.

“You know, some cultures believed eclipses were caused by the sun and moon coming together to make love,“

Tyler says. He puts down his empty champagne flute and places a hand on my hip.

Heat rises through me. He looks good, better than he did when we were together. “Did they?”

“Mmhmm.“

He moves closer, until our bodies are almost but not quite touching. “You know, I’ve been thinking. Why don’t we give us another chance?”

“I live on a boat now. This boat.”

“I’m sure they’ll let you add a partner to the lease.“

Now our thighs are pressed together, and I can feel his arousal. “I can take early retirement. Then we can sail the seven seas together. It will be just like old times.”

He kisses me, and all I can think is that I wish I’d stayed back in my cabin with Eric.

The thought catches me off guard. Eric’s a ghost, and I haven’t known him long. And yet, he’s the only person I want to be with right now.

I step back, away from Tyler’s kiss. “Old times, huh?”

Confusion flashes across his face, only to be replaced by a cocky grin. “Exactly.”

“Old times like when you were unhappy and decided to cheat instead of talking it out?”

His grin falters. “Babe, that was an accident.”

“What, you just tripped and your dick went into your co-worker? In our bed?“

Eric’s speculation as to whether he’d been cheating all along comes back to me. Tyler had been pretty confident he wouldn’t be caught at home, the sort of confident that comes from having gotten away with it enough times to get careless.

“We can talk it out,“

he says impatiently. “That’s what you want, isn’t it? To talk? Just let me stay with you, and we’ll have plenty of time to chat about anything you like.”

Something clicks into place. “Do you want me, or do you just want to live on a cruise ship on my dime?”

His expression gives his answer away before he can protest. I thought it was just a weird coincidence showed up on the same cruise as me, but now I’m wondering if he planned this from the start.

“Jake, you’re being unreasonable,“

he begins, but I’m done listening. Snatching up my eclipse glasses, I hurry out of his room and make for the elevator. He doesn’t try to follow.

Furious with myself for coming here instead of staying with Eric, I punch the elevator call button aggressively, trying to make it come faster. But the elevators are packed full of people heading for the upper deck, so I give up and jog up the stairs instead. I’m out of breath by the time I make it to my floor, but I can rest once I’m inside with Eric.

I throw open my door. The light from the balcony is dim—the moon must be covering half the sun by now, and I’m missing it thanks to goddamn Tyler.

“Eric, I’m back,“

I call, closing the door behind me. “Eric…?”

He sits on the edge of the bed, staring sadly at the balcony doors. For the first time, he doesn’t look solid at all. In fact…he looks like he’s fading.

Fear shoots through me. “Are you okay? Is the sunlight too much?”

He turns to look at me slowly, as if he’s underwater. “I waited too long,“

he says sadly.

“Waited too long for what?“

I hurry over to him and instinctively reach out to take his hands.

My fingers pass right through him.

“I put off falling in love while I was alive. Told myself there would be plenty of time. My last thought, when I realized I was dying, was that I’d missed out on the thing I wanted most.“

His voice grows fainter by the moment. “These nights with you…maybe it’s too soon to lose my heart, but I did it anyway. But you have a living boyfriend to be with. Don’t worry about me…I’ll be gone soon, and you can get on with your life.”

“No!“

I shout the word with all the desperation in my heart. There hasn’t been enough time—I can’t lose him like this. “Tyler isn’t my boyfriend, in fact I’m hoping never to lay eyes on his smarmy face again.”

“Really?“

His honey-and-bourbon voice has faded to a whisper.

“I came back because I want to see the eclipse with you. Because I want to do everything I can with you.“

His words about it being too soon, too fast, come back to me. But like Eric, I know what my heart tells me. “Because I’ve fallen in love with you.”

For a moment, I think I’m too late. He’s faded too far.

Then his gaze seems to become less hazy, his dark eyes focusing on me. The color that was draining away comes back to them, and he’s less transparent. “You have?”

“I have,“

I say, and kiss him.

His mouth solidifies under mine, and his arms wrap around me. We cling to one another for a long moment. When we finally part, I take his hands in mine. “I don’t know what the future holds,“

I confess. “But I have a long-term lease on this cabin with an option to buy, so I think we have time to figure it out.”

“Are you sure?“

he asks uncertainly.

I squeeze his hands. “I’m sure. Come here.”

Darkness has fallen over the ocean outside as the moon covers the sun. I open the door and lead him onto the balcony before fishing out my eclipse glasses and popping them on my face. Eric looks straight at the eclipse—I guess if you don’t have actually physical eyes, you don’t have to worry about hurting them.

Through my glasses, the sun’s corona fans out around the black sphere of the moon. Calm silence has spread over the world, the gulls tricked into thinking it’s nightfall, the people on board caught up in this moment of natural wonder. Even the waves seem to have calmed.

I lean back against Eric as we gaze up. “I’m so glad you’re here with me,“

I tell him. “If I’d chosen a different cabin to rent…”

I trail off, because it doesn’t bear thinking about. Maybe it was chance; maybe it was fate. Either way, I’m right where I should be.

“Me, too,“

he says, and turns me to face him. Our lips meet, and we kiss until the moon gently slides aside.

“See you tonight,“

he murmurs, before vanishing.

I grin at the empty spot, happier than I’ve been in a long time. “I can’t wait.”

About Jordan L. Hawk

Jordan L. Hawk writes queer fiction with a helping of eldritch monsters and things that go bump in the night. He’s best known for the award-winning Whyborne & Griffin series. He lurks in the forests of Massachusetts, but can be lured out with pizza.

Website: jordanlhawk.com

Facebook: facebook.com/groups/5118740725170

Bluesky: bsky.app/profile/jordanlhawk.com

Cruisin'

Patricia Logan

An FBI Files Spec. Ops. Tac Team Story

FBI agent Rex Monroe has just married Cachi Adams, the love of his life, surprising him with a honeymoon cruise on the high seas. Due to Cachi’s broken English and his desire to please his new husband, he seeks advice on packing from Rex’s Tac Team brotherhood at the FBI. The results will bring a smile to your face.

As Cachi and I climbed the long embarkation ramp up to our ship with RNJ Cruises, I couldn’t help feeling triumphant that I’d pulled this off for our honeymoon. Surprising him with the cruise hadn’t been easy because he was a curious man, and it had taken me weeks but somehow, I’d managed it. I was relieved my sweet, new husband hadn’t found out where we were going or what we were doing.

I’d been so excited when the wedding was over, the gifts had been opened, and I’d finally been able to share this—my own special gift with him. Cachi deserved only the best. I loved my little Puerto Rican spitfire so much. He was perfect for me, and I knew I just did it for him.

We approached one of the crew at the top of the ramp and I noticed her welcoming smile as well as the electronic device she held in her hands.

“Hello,“

she greeted. “May I have the number for your stateroom?” Her cheerful East Indian accent had already put me in the holiday mood.

I consulted the booking paperwork and she entered it into the handheld, grinning as she looked up. “Ah, Mr. and Mr. Rex Monroe. You’re here for your honeymoon. How lovely! Congratulations.”

“Thank you,“

Cachi replied before I could get the words out of my mouth. He smiled up at me, tightening the grip on my hand. He was practically bouncing on the balls of his feet.

I wanted to melt, just like I did every time I saw happiness and excitement in his dancing, brown eyes. His heart-shaped face, surrounded by riotous black curls, sent ripples of need racing through me, but it was his full bow lips that commanded my full attention all the time.

I returned his smile, thinking about all the things I was going to do with that decadent mouth this week. I realized neither of us were paying any attention to the nice lady when a delicate throat clearing broke the spell. I looked back at her. “I’m sorry, ma’am. Could you repeat that, please?”

“That’s okay, Mr. Monroe,“

she replied with a teasing grin. “You and your new husband have been assigned A5 as your muster station. That’s on Deck 5. You’re required to check in with the crew at the station before we sail.” She swept out a delicate hand, indicating the way to go through the double glass doors. “Please enjoy yourselves this week. If you have any questions, please feel free to check in with guest services or call from your cabin.”

Cachi’s hand shot out and she shook it, smiling in surprise. “Thank you! We having so much fun.“

I adored his accent and the way words were missing a few letters here and there, and some words made no sense whatsoever. It was sexy as all hell. He tightened his hand and practically dragged me into a wide-open lobby where guests seemed to be everywhere. He must have spotted the bank of elevators at the same time I did, because he headed there, tugging me along with him. “Come on, Rex. I want to see the ship.” He was looking everywhere all at once, head on a swivel, happiness on his face.

I took in the gleaming brass railing on the wide stairs and gorgeous artwork on the walls which beautifully complemented the jeweled chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. I couldn’t help but feel proud at my choice of ship.

But it was Cachi’s excitement when we got into a crowded glass elevator with his carry-on roller bag, that filled me with delight. I pulled him back against my chest, happy to make room for everyone as I stood behind my much smaller man and wrapped him in my arms. He laid his cheek on my bicep and sighed and that was it…

I was a goner.

We got out on our deck hand-in-hand and walked into the room moments later. I decided the veranda stateroom I’d chosen was worth every penny I spent as soon as I spotted the large queen bed. The anticipation of spending a hell of a lot of time in it with my man, sizzled through me. I couldn’t wait to get Cachi stripped down to his skin and naked beneath me.

“REX!“

Cachi let go of my hand and ran to the sliding glass door, pulling it open and stepping out onto the veranda. He sidestepped the two chairs and little table as he leaned on the railing, showing off his tight, little ass, clad only in shorts. He looked over the side before glancing back at me. His devastating smile froze me where I stood. “Tendremos una vista del océano!” he cried out in Spanish. I understood enough to know he was excited by what would be an ocean view as soon as we were underway.

He crooked his finger impatiently at me with a naughty look on his face and I went to him, wrapping my arms around his body and kissing his neck as he stared out at another ship docked beside us. The way he wiggled his ass against my erection confirmed that this was going to be a hell of a honeymoon. I couldn’t help but smile against his skin.

Seconds later, he’d turned around, slipped his arms around my middle, and plastered his body along the length of mine. I felt his hard shaft pressing against my thigh as I held him close. “I love you, Rex.“

He stared up at me, watching my eyes for a moment before lowering his gaze to my mouth.

“I love you too, sugar. You’re everythin’ to me.“

I leaned down and brushed my lips over his. “All I wanna do is carry you right back to that bed and fuck you.”

He smiled against my lips before leaning back and sliding his arms around my neck, smiling seductively. “What stop you, Rex?”

Good question. I grinned and grabbed his hand, drawing him back into the room just as someone knocked on the door. “Fuck!”

“Who is it, Rex?”

“Don’t know but he’s a dead man.“

I let go of his hand, hearing the growl in my own voice.

“Rex!“

he called to me as I stomped over to the door. I flung it open, only to find a very small man dressed in a crew uniform, standing just outside in the corridor. He was wearing a massive grin. He must have seen something in my expression because his smile died as his eyes went comically wide.

“S-Sir…I-I’m Phan,“

he stuttered.

The man swallowed and opened his mouth before closing it. When I went to shut the door in his face, Cachi stopped it with an open palm as he glowered up at me. “Rex! This is the cabin ship boy. Let him in.“

I was mouthing “cabin ship boy” to myself when Cachi turned back to the man, flinging the door wide. “Come in, Phan. You excuse my husband. He’s not dangerous.”

Phan stood in the hallway simply blinking. He didn’t make a move until Cachi stepped back. “Please, come in.“

He turned to glare at me, then pointed to the bed. “You sit down.”

Phan hesitated for a moment, then walked slowly into the room, dragging the luggage Cachi had packed. I didn’t miss the fact that he eyeballed me as I took a seat on the couch. I wasn’t about to argue with my husband or the man dressed in crew attire, even if he was a total cock blocker.

Phan’s tongue finally loosened enough to explain that our luggage had arrived and handed Cachi several pieces of paper, one of which was a schedule for the rest of the day. When he was done with his explanation, he gave Cachi a card with his extension and me one last wary glance, before high-tailing it out of the room as fast as his little feet would carry him.

After Cachi saw him out, he walked over, dragging our suitcase with him. I smiled at him and held out my arms, ready to strip every stitch of clothing from his body and roll him under me. When he shook his head, my heart squeezed in my chest. “Stop wastin’ time, Cachi. I need to fuck you,“

I growled, my voice husky and my groin throbbing.

He lifted a finger and scolded me. “We need to go to thruster.”

I opened my mouth to ask what the fuck he was talking about but nothing came out.

He crossed his arms. “We need thruster station.”

I glanced at the bed before looking back as I realized he wasn’t talking about the furniture. I pursed my lips as I looked at him, trying desperately not to burst out laughing. “You mean the muster station, Cachi.”

He glared at me.

“That’s what I say! Now, get up and put the suitcase on the bed, Rex. I need to change clothes.”

The, “Aww, Cachi, we have time for that,“

came out a little whinier than I meant it to. I stood and reached for him, smiling as seductively as possible. Catching him as he tried to move away, I dragged him into my arms. When I bent down, I whispered, “I need to fuck my new husband.”

He gave me a downright evil grin. “And I need to change to go to muster.”

I couldn’t stop the quirk of my lips if I’d wanted to. I glanced back at him. “Muster station.”

He threw up both hands and pointed to the suitcase. “Open suitcase. We need to change for cruisin’.”

I snorted. “Cruisin’?”

Cachi just looked at me. “That’s what you say, Rex. When you give me tickets, you say we are cruisin’. I. Need. To. Change.”

I had no idea what he was talking about, but the last thing I wanted to do was argue with my Latin hottie on our honeymoon. “Okay.“

I lifted the enormous suitcase onto the bed, and he immediately unlocked it, throwing it open with a wide grin.

“Here. Clothes for cruisin’. What do you like to wear?”

I walked over and looked down into the suitcase as he began pulling out what could only be described as tragic clothing, fit for…I didn’t know what.

First, were the shiny, skintight leggings, I’d only seen him put on when we went out to clubs. The red, patent leather ankle boots I was pretty sure had come from his go-go boy days. But when he pulled out a black, sequined tank top and held it against my body to check for fit, I grabbed his wrist. “What’s this?”

He looked up at me. “You say we’re cruisin’,“

he said with a wide grin. “I pack clothes for you to wear.” Cachi glanced down at the tank top, cocking his head to the side, and measuring—I was sure—in his head.

When what he said finally dawned in my pea-sized brain, I reached into the suitcase and started pulling out more clothes. There were several more pairs of stretch leggings, a few pairs of skinny jeans, and a wide array of sequined shirts in both of our sizes. I had to stop when I unfolded a T-shirt in my size. It was neon pink with black sequins that spelled out Poodle Hoar. My mouth dropped open and for several seconds, all I could do was stare at it.

“Rex?“

He reached out and took hold of my biceps. “Rex!”

I ignored the misspelling of Whore and the reference to Lola, our fluffy, white baby back home, and looked down at him. “Where’d this come from?”

He grinned widely and once again, my gaze was momentarily drawn to the deep dimples in his cheeks and soft, full lips practically begging for my kisses. I snapped out of it when he asked, “You like it, Papi? Is a surprise for you.”

“It certainly is.“

I stopped, wondering how to put this. “So, when I told you we were cruisin’, you thought we’d be going to bars and checking out guys to pick up?”

He blinked. “You don’t like cruisin’?”

I didn’t know what to say to that. I admit, one of my favorite things when I was single, was going to gay bars to check guys out…but that was before. “Cachi, we’re married. I don’t cruise gay bars anymore.“

His brows furrowed in the most adorable way. All I wanted to do was kiss that little spot between his eyes.

“You say we’re cruisin’.“

He nodded to himself as he came to a realization. “But, I don’t understand this English of yours…so I get it wrong?”

I laughed, dropped the shirt, and grabbed him. My mouth crashed down on his. He opened immediately. Cachi’s body melted against me as I plundered, taking what I wanted, sucking on his tongue, reveling in the feel of his soft lips and the taste of my man. He wound his arms around my neck, kissing me back until I could barely breathe and was rock hard. When I finally broke the kiss several minutes later, we were both panting, chests heaving. His eyes were heavy-lidded and his pupils blown.

“I get it wrong,“

he gasped. “What does cruisin’ mean, Rex?”

“It means I planned a surprise honeymoon on a ‘cruise’ ship. That’s what I meant, sugar…not that I expected you to dress in club clothes and go to check out guys at bars.“

I leaned forward and pecked his lips. When I pulled back, he looked less confused. “You understand?”

He wiggled free and I reluctantly let him go, watching him pace away, look down at the contents of the suitcase once more, and then back to me. He walked over, standing in front of me and craning his neck to look up. I stood nearly a foot taller than him, so when we were close, he was always forced to look up. “Rex, I think I pack the wrong stuff.”

I barked out a laugh, absolutely charmed by him. “Okay, Cachi. Show me somethin’ else.”

He smiled, and I immediately spotted the glint that had returned to his eyes. He began digging in the suitcase and came up with a roll of something that was not clothing…not one bit. He held it up, looking proud. I took the roll of chorizo out of his hands and just stared at it. It was still cold from the refrigerator. I shot him a glance. “Why in hell did you bring sausage?”

“Is good, no?”

My jaw dropped open.

“Rex? You like chorizo.”

“Yeah, sugar, I like chorizo with my eggs for breakfast, but they have a hell of a lot of food on the ship.”

“I know that now, but last month, I talk to Nash and Joshua, and Joshua say when Pete goes glamping with Cub Scouts, they cook their own food. So, Joshua, he always pack chorizo for Pete to go glamping.”

I honestly didn’t know what to say, but when we got home, I was going to murder my teammate, Nash, and have a stern talking to his boyfriend, Joshua. And while it was probably very important to pack chorizo for Joshua’s six-year-old brother when he went camping, I was terrified to know what other tidbits of advice they gave Cachi about our vacation.

“Sugar, why did you think I was takin’ you campin’ for our honeymoon? I told you we were going on a cruise.”

He shrugged but crossed his arms, looking like he was about to impart tidbits of advice himself. “Si…I already get that wrong but a honeymoon is a vacation, no? Nash say that Pete needs chorizo whenever he goes on vacation, so I pack it. Is it wrong?”

“No, Cachi, not exactly wrong, but we’re not Cub Scouts.“

I looked down at the suitcase. “What else is in there?”

Cachi grinned and pulled out a neon pink feather boa. He wrapped it around his neck and held the ends out, doing a pose. “Boa for glamping.”

I laughed. “Baby, do you know what glampin’ means?”

He nodded vigorously. “Si, it mean—“

He tapped his chin. “I don’t remember but it importante.”

I loved the way he threw in a Spanish word here or there. I was about to kiss him when he held up a finger.

“Wait. I remember something, Rex.“

Cachi ran to the carry-on which he’d brought into the room and pulled a small piece of paper out of his shaving kit, bringing it over. “Last week when we at Leo and Max’s house, they tell me about glamping.”

Since most of the guys I hung around with at the FBI were full of shit, I had no doubt Special Agent Max Prince and his husband Dr. Leo Reeves had been pulling Cachi’s leg. He unfolded the paper as I crossed my arms. This was going to be good.

Cachi glanced at me to make sure I was listening. “You remember Flay and Trey?”

“Leo and Max’s drag queen neighbors?”

“Si.“

He nodded, pointing to the paper. “Flay and Trey…they write this for me.” He handed it to me.

“For all intents and purposes,“

I read out loud, “you should treat cruisin’ like any other vacation like camping or glamping, and for glamping, you must have feathers. Every girl needs feathers.” I snorted and looked up at him. He was nodding his head, smiling smugly.

“First of all, you ain’t a girl, Cachi, and second, do you know what glampin’ even means?”

“Si. Everyone know that, Rex. Glamping is gay and lesbian camping.”

He was so positive…so fucking precious that I was speechless, but so charmed, I couldn’t see straight. I reached out and grabbed Cachi’s ass, yanking him up against me. Suitcase forgotten, ridiculous packing forgotten, I lowered my head and took his lips then, feeling him submit to my punishing kiss. He made that sweet, little, mewling noise of surrender that sent electric shocks straight to my groin every time. He slid his arms around me, slipping his hands up under my shirt and kneading my back muscles. I ravished his mouth. He met my kisses with a fervor of his own, shoving his tongue inside my mouth and rubbing it against mine as I became lost in our passion.

I separated our lips only long enough to shove the suitcase and its stupid contents to the floor with a loud thump, then pushed him down onto the bed, covering him with my much larger frame. He wound his arms around my neck, pulling my head down as our lips connected once again. I groaned as he arched his back, pressing his rock-hard cock against mine, and kissing me until I could barely breathe. “Cachi!“

I gasped as I tore my mouth away to look down at him. “Take them clothes off if you want ‘em in one piece.”

He smiled, nodding vigorously as he pushed at my chest with both hands. I rolled off him and sat up, yanking off my boots without another word. They fell to the ground with loud clunks and then I was standing, ripping the tee over my head and sailing it off to a corner of the room somewhere. My jeans were next as he unwound the stupid boa, tossing it on the floor and undressing just as quickly. When we were both naked, I pulled him back down onto the bed, rolling him underneath me.

“Love you, Rex,“

he panted as I trailed open-mouthed kisses from his slender neck all the way up to his ear where I sucked gently on a soft earlobe. His masculine scent filled my senses, driving me wild with desire. He arched his back, writhing until our cocks lined up. His dick was already leaking, telling me how ready he was. I kissed him long and hard as he moaned into my mouth. The sensuous sounds of his submission drove me out of my mind. When I finally pulled back, his sweet lips were puffy and red. I grinned at him, holding his gaze as I slid down his body.

I glanced at Cachi’s beautiful dick standing proudly from a short nest of black curls. I reached for it, taking it into my hand and giving it several pumps as I watched precome leak from his tiny slit. I glanced back up at him, noting the utter lust in his sensual, heavy-lidded eyes. The black kohl that he always wore made them even darker in the afternoon light filtering into the room from the open balcony door. I remembered the very first time I’d ever gazed into them when he’d danced for me from the cage built for the club’s go-go dancers. The memory of how his oiled body had moved…sultrily teasing…sensually undulating just for me, still got me hard every time I thought about it.

I took a deep inhale of his scent and slid my mouth over the head of his cock. I rolled the soft globes of his balls in one hand as the taste of my Latin lover exploded on my tongue. He cried out, bucking up as he deliberately slid deeper. I sucked him down, managing to take nearly all of him into my mouth. His cock bumped the back of my throat, making me gag just a little. My eyes teared up, blurring them momentarily, but I didn’t care. I adored everything my man did to me. He reached down with both hands, threading long fingers into my hair, tugging gently as he moaned.

“Suck me hard, Rex.”

I complied, moving on and off, deep throating him as he wiggled beneath me. I pulled off just long enough to trail a line along the seam on his ball sac and down to his balls with my tongue, wetting the sac just enough to assist the massage. Holding onto his hips, I pressed him into the bed to keep him still, which was nearly impossible. I took his cock back into my mouth, sucking and swallowing around the head, flicking my tongue around the velvety glans, trapping it between my tongue and the roof of my mouth, eliciting the throaty moans I craved.

“Rex!“

he gasped. “Gonna come!”

I stared up at him, desperately craving the taste of his thick, heavy load. I sucked harder as he fucked my mouth, tightening my lips on his shaft as I felt it thicken in my mouth. When he began thrusting harder and faster, moaning loudly, I knew he was ready. Seconds later, he cried out, spilling his hot load. I swallowed fast, sucking creamy spunk from his gorgeous dick, loving how nasty and sexy it felt to do this to him, even though I’d done it a thousand times. He cried out again, bucking off the bed as a second, smaller load shot onto my tongue. I swallowed, feeling myself smile as I sucked him dry, then slowly let his cock slip from my lips.

I was up and over him a second later, plying him with open-mouthed kisses as he lapped at my tongue. His guttural groan made me smile. I let out a low chuckle, pulling back slightly to gaze down at him. “Fuck me, Rex.“

His smile was so seductive, I could barely breathe.

“Please tell me you packed lube.”

“Si.“

He waved at the pile of ridiculous clothing that’d spilled onto the carpet from the suitcase. “In the makeup bag.” I rolled off the bed and snatched up his large, pink makeup bag, unzipping it and pulling out the biggest damned bottle of lube I’d ever seen. It was so huge, it had its own handle. I threw my head back and laughed as I extricated the thing.

“Someone’s come prepared.”

Cachi grabbed his knees and pulled them back, spreading his legs wide as he nodded. “Si…is honeymoon, no?”

I laughed again, then crawled onto the bed, kneeling between his spread knees. We’d gone without condoms since shortly after meeting and both being tested. At the FBI, I was tested regularly as a part of a semi-annual physical and whenever Candy, my boss, requested. He never overstepped, but as part of a Tac Team, we regularly got hurt, even during our rigorous daily training. All of us were way too familiar with hospitals and with them, came blood tests.

Cachi, it turned out, hadn’t slept around a whole lot, even though he’d been a go-go dancer at a very popular gay bar in West Hollywood when I’d met him. So, as soon as we both knew we were clear, we’d done away with condoms, committing only to each other.

I cracked open the lube and, to my surprise, a plunger popped up like one of those king-sized shampoo bottles. I snorted as Cachi grinned at me. “When I buy it, the lady, she say, ‘Oh, you must be a busy boy!’”

That just made me laugh harder. I shook my head and pressed the plunger on the massive bottle of lube, meaning to get it in the palm of my hand, and instead spraying it all over Cachi’s belly, balls, and dick, covering him with giant puddles of goo.

I chuckled and tossed the bottle on the bed, then scooped a wad of the slick into my palm and spread it liberally all over my cock and down his taint beneath his balls, making sure to circle his rim several times just to watch him squirm. Since we fucked every night and sometimes every morning, twice on weekends, I knew it wouldn’t take much prep to get him ready. Besides, he’d told me many times how much he loved it when his tight ass was forced to stretch around my cock, loving the sting when I pushed inside. The noises he made told me everything I needed to know.

“Rex,“

he moaned. “Fuck me.”

I took hold of my cock, bumping up against his tight pucker as I watched him visibly relax. I pressed in, holding back until he’d blown out a breath and nodded, then pushing in slowly. I watched his face, concentrating deeply at first, then finally relax as I slid home. He was so hot inside, so tight it took my breath away and when I finally began to move, slow at first, he moved with me, bearing down and pushing back. Once I’d established a rhythm, his fingers dug into my hips, urging me on.

Cachi was a passionate lover, never too shy to beg for what he needed and today, in the fading afternoon light, he was no different. “I nee…eed you, Rex! Fuck me harder.”

So, I did, shoving deeply into his body, pulling back, only to plunge in deeper and harder with every thrust. We moved together on the bed, me over him, so much bigger, stronger, him beneath me, so much more delicate and nevertheless every inch the man I loved. I took hold of his cock, stroking it in time with my lunges. In only a matter of moments, he’d thrown his head back, arching beneath me as he cried out. I looked down as he shouted my name, marveling at the way come blasted out of his slit, raining down on his tight abs in thick, hot spurts. When his body rippled around my cock, that’s all it took. I came, shouting his name as I emptied my balls deep inside his clenching channel.

My heart hammered in my chest, breath coming out in gasps as I fell down over him. He held me close, panting in my ear. We lay there for several minutes, recovering from the fantastic bout of lovemaking. When I finally felt myself slipping free, I lifted myself just enough to roll off him, falling to my back on the messy sheets.

My entire body was covered with a fine sheen of sweat and come. The room felt hot and cloying as I tuned in to the sound of other passengers moving outside in the corridor as they walked past our stateroom. I looked at my wristwatch, the only thing I still wore, and groaned. I rolled my head to look at Cachi, only to find him watching me with a devilish smile on his face.

“We need to go check-in muster, Rex.”

“Well, we did the first bit.”

He frowned, looking puzzled, cocking his head on its side.

“We did the thruster part.”

He laughed, and I grinned as I rolled to the side, propping my head in my hand as I looked down at him. “And I need a shower before that.”

He reached out and touched my chest, tracing little circles on one pec. “I love you, cowboy.”

I reached for him, wrapping him up in my arms and lowering my mouth to his lips. “And I love you, my sweet, crazy, little Boricua Puerto Rican,“

I whispered. “Thank you for bein’ my whole world.” I kissed him until neither of us could breathe.

Later that night, after we’d stuffed ourselves at the buffet table, Cachi wanted to check out the nightclub. I wanted to go back to the room for another round in the sheets, but I couldn’t say no to him. I loved him more than I could say and I hadn’t been lying when I’d spoken my vows, pledging to spend the rest of my life treating him like the precious jewel he was. We walked into the packed nightclub. Everyone was dressed in their finery for the first night on ship, but I couldn’t take my eyes off him. He was everything to me, ten years my junior, with a body made for sin. But it wasn’t his body that charmed me the most. It was Cachi’s great, big heart.

“Come on, Rex. Dance with me.”

I looked down at his sweet, smiling face. I wasn’t much of a dancer, unless we were at a country western bar where I could get out on the dance floor and do a passable imitation of a line dance. Still, I’d promised to fulfill his every wish this week and that’s exactly what I planned to do.

I let him pull me onto the dance floor, not caring that we got quite a few stares from people who probably didn’t expect to see two gay men on the dance floor. I smiled and nodded at several who grinned at us, following obediently along until he stopped and moved in close. I took him in my arms, wrapping his smaller body with both arms, loving the way he laid his cheek over my heart. I kissed the top of his head as we swayed with the music. I closed my eyes as the DJ started a romantic ballad. Cachi sighed against my chest, and I tightened my arms. When he lifted his face and looked up into my eyes, I gazed down at him, losing myself in his chocolate brown eyes.

“I love you, Rex. You are my hero. Thank you for love me.”

I smiled, shaking my head. “No thanks needed, sugar. It’s you who saved me.”

The sweet furrow between his brows returned. “How?“

He glanced at my biceps, running both hands up my arms as he traced the corded muscles there. “You are the strong one.”

I shook my head, gathering him close as I leaned down to whisper in his ear. “Before you, I was a lonely man. Yeah, I had friends…my brothers, but it’s you who saved me and I’m gonna spend the rest of my life makin’ sure you understand that.”

He leaned back, looking up with glistening eyes. “I understand this English of yours, Rex.”

All I could do was smile because he was my home and my heart was full.

About Patricia Logan

Patricia Logan is the author of over 80 books. Her stories are available in audio, ebook, and paperback and in several foreign languages. Published for sixteen years, she enjoys writing love stories featuring hot men. Yes, sometimes, they get into trouble, but they’re very good at their jobs, bringing down the bad guys during the day and burning up the sheets at night.

Instagram: instagram.com/authorpatricialogan

Facebook: facebook.com/ploganauthor

Shifter-itis

KC Burn

Cruises and werewolves don’t mix. But Shane is contracted to write a book located on a cruise ship, so research vacation here he comes. Sure, he hates crowds and noise and strangers. He’s anxious and introverted and never been on a boat before. And he’s defective. Can’t forget that. He’s never shifted in his life, and seems destined to never do so. A cruise shouldn’t be a problem, should it?

Shane stared up at the cruise ship in front of them. It was enormous. Like someone had ripped an apartment building out of the ground, flipped it on its side, and plopped it in the water beside the... pier? Dock? Great. Shitty simile and faulty vocabulary.

That wouldn’t win him any writing awards.

Meh. Who needed awards? Awards were nice, but sales were better. Sales kept his publishing contracts coming.

“We are going to have so much fun.“

Kaden, his cousin, slapped him on the back, before slipping an arm around his mate, Noah.

Shane barely kept in a snort. No doubt Kaden and Noah would have a good time. They could lock themselves in their cabin for the next five days, never emerge, and still have the time of their lives. Shane didn’t spend a lot of time contemplating his cousin’s sex life, but they’d only been mated for less than a year, and it didn’t take much to get their hormones flowing.

Shane, on the other hand, was likely to never have a mate. But that wasn’t something he wanted to dwell on right now. Not when he had so many other things to concern him.

“Are all those people getting on this boat?“

He stared at the steady stream of passengers heading into the terminal and tugged at the collar of his golf shirt, which suddenly seemed very constricting.

“It’s a ship, dumbass,“

his other cousin, Bryson, said. “It won’t seem that crowded once we’re on board.”

But how could it not? And how could such a behemoth stay afloat? Shane couldn’t believe he’d gotten talked into this trip. Even if it was sort of his own fault.

“C’mon,“

Noah said. “Let’s get this vacation started. It’s so nice to be away from the snow.”

Actually, Shane might be able to blame most of this fiasco on Noah. Noah was the one who pointed out that Shane had just sent a proposal to his publisher about a serial killer on a cruise ship, and that it might be a challenge to write if he’d never been on a cruise.

True. Perhaps.

Noah had also never been on a cruise. None of them had, and amidst the beer and pizza and a somewhat boisterous poker night, they’d discussed going on a cruise together.

There were too many roadblocks in Shane’s opinion.

Shifting, first and foremost. At least, for Kaden and Bryson. Noah was human, and Shane couldn’t shift at all. Terminal shifter-itis they called it. Yes, his parents were both werewolves. Yes, he was technically also a werewolf. And yes, everyone treated him like a human, even though he had most of the same boosted senses the rest of the pack did in human form.

Regardless, Bryson, a wildlife researcher and the only one of them who’d been on a boat before, said all they had to do was choose a sailing that didn’t occur during the full moon. Easy as that.

Secondly, Shane mentioned the possibility of motion sickness. Which made both Kaden and Bryson roll their eyes—werewolves rarely had negative physical reactions of that sort, and Noah to begin listing off possible remedies and preventatives he would bring, just in case.

Shane then offered up the specters of icebergs, pirates, capsizing and/or running aground. Bryson told him to add them to his novel, but catastrophes like that were anomalies in real life.

Also true. Damn it. A writer’s imagination could be his own worst enemy.

Next thing he knew, Noah had booked them on a Caribbean cruise on the recently launched Sea Wolf from RNJ Cruises. Claimed the universe was sending them a sign. Shane had said he’d always thought Noah was too level-headed to believe that sort of nonsense, and Noah had responded by sticking out his tongue.

So mature. But unfortunately, when Shane had mentioned the situation offhand to his editor, she’d been horrified to realize he’d planned to write a book set on a cruise ship when he’d never been on a water craft of any description in his life.

He’d given in. Grudgingly. Bought some “cruise wear“

and new swim trunks. Packed his bags. Shut his damned mouth.

The plane ride to Fort Lauderdale had only been a couple of hours, and it had sucked. But he’d done planes before, going to conferences and on book tours whenever he couldn’t talk his way out them. Flights always seemed crowded, but the people aiming to get on this... ship? It looked like they were taking a trip with the whole damned city.

It was a new ship. Hopefully he could stop worrying about faulty... bulwarks? Leaky keels? Failing rivets? If worst came to worst, at least he knew how to swim.

Ugh. He definitely should have done more research, beyond a viewing of the movie Titanic when he’d been a kid. But thinking about the trip had stressed him out so much, he’d avoided the whole issue. Instead, he’d spent the time leading up to the cruise researching innocuous murder weapons that might be easily smuggled aboard. Good thing no one was checking his browser history along with his boarding documents.

“Come on. We’re going to miss our embarkation time.“

Bryson strolled forward, wheeled suitcase rattling behind him.

Shane sighed and followed. He could swim, and he was more durable, shifter-itis or not, than humans. Those two facts would have to comfort him throughout this ill-advised vacation.

“I swear, someone should have told me about the buffets sooner,“

Kaden exclaimed as they sat in one of the primary eateries on the ship. All of their plates, aside from Noah’s with his standard human appetite and metabolism, were piled high.

“I am pleasantly surprised,“

Shane agreed. There were still an awful lot of people here, but they’d chosen a table next to the window, and were somewhat removed from the bustle that surrounded the food stations organized by cuisine.

Shane hadn’t expected to be able to eat with all these people around, but the food smelled so good it had made him even hungrier.

“The food is great,“

Bryson said, then shoveled a hunk of pot roast into his mouth. “This is way better than the galleys on the ships I’ve been on.”

“Duh. You were on those ships to work, not enjoy yourself. Unlike here,“

Shane replied.

Bryson shrugged. “Yeah, I suppose. Although I think the whole crew would have been more productive after a meal like this.”

“Really?“

Kaden asked. “The only productive thing I’m going to do after this is lie out by the pool, and give my food baby some sun.” He patted his extremely not rounded belly, while Noah smiled and nodded his agreement.

In short order, they all finished their meals, with an agreement to meet up by the pools. For some reason, despite Noah having made the booking at the same time, their rooms were all in different areas of the ship.

“I’m just going to see if I can find the cinnamon rolls, and then I’ll be right there,“

Shane said.

“I didn’t see any of those.“

Noah frowned. “I couldn’t eat one now anyway.”

“I didn’t see them either, but I can smell them,“

Shane replied.

Kaden smirked. “I swear, I thought you were going to hold Pamela hostage when she said she was closing up the bakery at home.”

Shane huffed out his annoyance. Yes, he’d asked Pamela more than once if she was sure Greg was her mate, but he hadn’t been aggressive about it. Since she’d moved to a different pack hundreds of miles away, the sweets in town, especially cinnamon ones, had been sorely lacking.

After the three other men left, Shane tried to focus his nose on the location of the cinnamon rolls. It wasn’t easy to tune into one specific scent, not when there was curry and rosemary and onions and garlic in the air from various food stations, as well as the co-mingled funk of sunscreen, cologne, and body odor from an enormous number of people. Nevertheless, he picked his way through the somewhat lessening crowds—lunchtime was waning—and roved around the stations.

Not one damned cinnamon roll to be found. Between the recycled air and all the unfamiliar scents, maybe his nose was having an off day, but he wasn’t thrilled to have missed out. This was only day one, and there was a tasty looking key lime pie to console himself with. Plenty of time to snag some cinnamon rolls. He’d just have to be here earlier next time.

As he approached the dessert station, an adorable man approached, carrying a tray of apple pie slices, redolent with cinnamon. Almost as good as a gooey cinnamon roll.

“Hello. Can I offer you a slice of apple pie?“

The man’s smile was sweet as the pie looked, and Shane couldn’t do anything but smile helplessly back, noticing dark curly hair, bright eyes, and rosy cheeks as well as the adorable smile.

The man’s eyebrows raised, and his smile faded. “Pie?”

“Um. Yes, please,“

Shane managed to get out without too much of a stammer, but his face warmed under the regard of this unexpectedly handsome stranger. He stood there for a couple of seconds, then the heat in his face tripled as he realized he was blocking the cute guy from getting to where he had to place the tray full of pastries.

“Sorry.“

The word came out as a mere squeak, and the embarrassment was too much. He fled without taking anything.

It didn’t take long for Shane to find Bryson and plop down on one of the empty deck chairs beside him. He was such an idiot. This was why he liked being a hermit at home. Writing was easy, mostly, compared with trying to socialize with sexy strangers. Also, any humiliations were much easier to deal with in the solitude of his own home, rather than making a fool of himself in public.

“Where are Noah and Kaden?“

Shane didn’t see them in the pool, but Bryson was clearly holding seats for them.

Bryson rolled his eyes. “Post-prandial sex-break. They should be here soon.”

Shane huffed, and laid back on the deck chair. He hadn’t counted on how uncomfortable it was to vacation with a recently mated couple. Not only were the pheromones thick in the air all the time, but it reminded him how much he wanted a partner for himself.

Sure, solitude was great for now, but he assumed a mate, especially for an introvert like him, would be a comfort, and not an intrusive presence in his life. Unlike just a random boyfriend. He’d tried that once and it hadn’t gone well.

Even though he was only in his early thirties, he was pretty sure he was destined to be one of the unmated “uncles“

of the pack. It wasn’t easy for werewolves to find mates. Gay werewolves? Even harder. Defective gay werewolves who couldn’t shift? Impossible.

“What’s got you all tied up in knots?“

Bryson asked.

Shane grimaced. He could lie, but Bryson was a proper werewolf. Even in human form, he’d know.

If only Shane weren’t so painfully introverted, he’d find himself a group of human only friends. Who wouldn’t be able to smell every little white lie.

“Nothing.”

Bryson lifted an eyebrow and waited in silence. Shane sighed. The lie had been worth a try.

“Just a cute guy.”

Bryson sat up. “Yeah? What’s his name? Are you meeting up with him later?”

Shane stared at Bryson. “I’m sorry, did you hit your head recently and get amnesia? Have you forgotten who I am?”

Bryson smirked, the sarcasm rolling off his back like the coconut sunscreen he sported was liquid Teflon.

Shane sagged back against the chair.

“Seriously, you didn’t even get his name?”

“Uh no. I was in his way, stood there like an idiot, then...“

Ran away. “I got out of his way and came here.”

“Right. Next time you see him, point him out and we’ll see if we can at least get you an introduction. See if he’s interested.”

Unlikely. “I think he’s a crew member.”

“Even better!“

Bryson’s voice was far more excited than it should be.

“How is that better?”

“You can talk to him about what happens behind the scenes. Get the inside scoop about what goes on in areas restricted to passengers. Research, which I know you love, and at the same time, get to know him.”

“Won’t he have to, oh, I don’t know, work? The reason he’s on this boat?”

“Ship,“

Bryson corrected.

Shane glared at him.

“But seriously, point him out. Because I don’t imagine the crew works all day, every day. And they probably have some sort of mandate to accommodate passengers as much as they can.”

“Then how will we know if he’s interested or just humoring a hapless passenger?“

Shane did like research, but he hadn’t even been able to take a slice of pie from that guy. Talking intelligently and asking relevant questions would likely be beyond him.

Bryson laughed again and tapped his nose. “We’ll know.”

Oh yeah. Shane smiled. Werewolves. Shane wasn’t totally defective at scenting a man’s interest. Maybe this plan wasn’t terrible. Sure, his insides were clenching with nerves just at the thought—he’d have to plan some specific questions—but it could work. The guy had been super cute.

Kaden and Noah plopped down on a pair of empty chairs, the fresh scent of soap swirling around them. At least they’d had the decency to shower after their hijinks.

“Bry, what did you do to Shane?“

Kaden asked, which got Noah staring at him. Because, of course, Kaden could scent his agitation.

“Me?“

Bryson made an attempt at innocence. “It wasn’t me. There’s a cute guy. We’re going to try to get him and Shane together. That’s all.”

“Oh. That’s all, is it?“

Kaden turned his attention to Shane. “Is that okay with you?”

Shane shrugged. “I think so.”

“Kaden and I will make sure Bryson doesn’t go overboard,“

Noah said.

Shane’s lips twitched. Overboard. Then Noah realized what he’d said, and he started snickering.

“Or maybe we will make sure he goes overboard, if he makes you uncomfortable,“ Noah said.

“Guys, I’m not a total dick. The goal is to get Shane laid, not convince him to stay in his cabin for the rest of the cruise.”

Laid might be a bit optimistic, but both of his cousins and Noah had the best of intentions.

“It’ll be fine.“

Shane hoped. One couldn’t actually die of embarrassment. “I’ll, uh, let you know if gets to be too much.”

After playing around in the pool and soaking up some sun while the ship motored its way to the Caribbean, they were all starving and more than ready for dinner.

Part of Shane wanted to insist they go back to the buffet restaurant so he could give Bryson’s plan a chance. Or at least try to show himself in a less neurotic light than before. The rest of him, though? Downright relieved their plans included one of the nicer, and less crowded, table service restaurants. After all, he hadn’t planned any specific talking points yet.

Every damn course that came out to the table brought whiffs of cinnamon sugar, faint, but enough to make Shane think he was maybe losing his shit.

“How did you find the first day, Shane?“

Noah asked. “Get any good ideas for your book?”

Shane took a break from his flagrantly cinnamon-free sirloin to answer.

“Maybe? Honestly, the sheer number of people is a lot to get used to. But it’s good to know, for the purposes of the book. I can add that as flavor. Also, I’m pretty sure there is substantial surveillance. Which makes sense, but I hadn’t thought about it before. That would have to be addressed in my book.”

“Surveillance? Are you sure?“

Kaden looked like he’d just swallowed a bug and Shane had to bite back a laugh. Clearly, he’d spent some time getting frisky with Noah in a more public area than their cabin.

Shane nodded. “It came up when I was researching my first book, and now it’s something I take note of wherever I go. Of course, that doesn’t mean the monitoring is robust, but there is a significant amount of equipment throughout the areas of the ship I’ve been so far.“

He was tempted to call it a boat again, just to goad Bryson a little, but since they were all so invested in trying to set him up, and being nice about it, he didn’t want to do anything to make Bryson think pranks or payback of any sort would be a good idea.

“Does it make it harder? Trying to cope with modern technology in your books?“

Kaden asked.

Shane glared at him. “I’m not that much older than you. The tech is what it is, and I’ve written around it more than adequately.“

Like he’d grown up before the damned internet or something.

The conversation moved on to the less volatile topic of shore excursions. Although Noah had read it was a good idea to book them before the cruise, since Bryson was the only one who’d been on a sea-going vessel before, they didn’t want to pack their schedule without knowing how the wolf contingent dealt with cabins and crowds and motion sickness. Turned out to be a non-issue for everyone, and many of the shore excursions still had availability. Enough so that they were having difficulty deciding what to do.

“Excuse me, but would anyone care for dessert?”

Another stronger whiff of cinnamon had Shane turning his head toward the dessert cart that had been wheeled next to their table, but he wasn’t able to focus because he’d just realized who was doing the wheeling.

His mouth dried up, his cheeks warmed, and he couldn’t find an appropriate word if his life depended on it.

Unfortunately, Bryson of all people, noticed Shane’s condition. Probably his anxiety cut through the smell of sweets like, like... a knife through butter. Dammit. Now he was coming up with tired old similes.

“What’s got the most cinnamon?“

Bryson asked.

The beautiful man smiled at Shane, which put Shane’s ability to speak further out of reach, even as he replied to Bryson. “The apple pie, for sure.”

“Shane will definitely have that.“

Bryson pointed in his direction, making Shane feel even more like a fool.

The rest of them made their choices, and with another bright smile in Shane’s direction, the sweet-smelling man trundled off with his cart.

Dammit.

“Well, I guess we don’t need Shane to point out his guy.“

Noah’s tone was warm and kind. Just like the man himself. But it sucked that even the human among them had been able to tell just how bothered Shane was. Noah didn’t even have a werewolf’s olfactory senses.

“Too right. Nando’s our man.”

What? “How do you know his name?“

Shane’s irritation with Bryson brought his speech roaring back.

“He was wearing a name tag. Didn’t you see it?“

Kaden’s question held no small amount of mirth, which only made Shane more embarrassed. Bryson just laughed.

Not too embarrassed to eat the delightful apple pie in front of him, though. It wasn’t a cinnamon roll, but it was delicious nonetheless.

The next day, the ship had already docked at their port of call before Shane left his stateroom. He’d skipped breakfast and took some extra time getting ready, just in case he managed to see Nando again. He hadn’t told the others yet, but he was going to ditch them so he could get back to the lunch buffet long before it got too busy.

Would he be able to actually talk to Nando if the opportunity arose? Maybe yes, maybe no, but Shane wasn’t thrilled with his own behavior thus far. Definitely hadn’t put his best self forward. He’d spent a good chunk of the previous evening rehearsing things to say that wouldn’t sound completely idiotic. Planning ahead always helped him, although he’d been so antsy he hadn’t been able to fall asleep until well into the night.

He should have been working on his book, but he hadn’t been able to concentrate on anything but his conversational prompts.

Although he had to hand it to his cousins and Noah. They could have been a lot more embarrassing, and he appreciated the near-maturity of their interference.

Not that he’d tell them that. He wasn’t about to give them that much of an ego stroke.

With one last tweak of his hair, Shane sighed and headed out to meet the guys. At least his exhaustion hadn’t created dark circles under his eyes. Werewolf constitution was good for something, even if it had never fully manifested for Shane.

Wandering around the island held less interest for Shane than he’d expected. First of all, how was he supposed to run into Nando if he wasn’t on the ship? He’d started second-guessing the “explore the port“

plan as soon as he realized how many people were getting off the ship with them. Wouldn’t it make more sense to try and talk to Nando while there were fewer people aboard?

The moment he tried to broach the idea, he’d been shot down. Bryson’s comment that he needed to see how port calls worked as research wasn’t entirely wrong. It was faster and easier to write about something he’d experienced himself, for sure.

The day was sunny and warm and filled with tropical sights and scents. Everything a Caribbean vacation should be, but he was still anxious and on edge. It wasn’t just the crowds around the port either, because the feeling didn’t taper even after they’d powered ahead of most of the passengers.

He lagged further and further behind his cousins and Noah, not sure if he should just go back to the ship and hide out in his cabin until the feeling passed. Normally when he was stressed, he’d do yoga, but the staterooms were too small. Failing that, a quiet refuge was a good alternate.

A few blocks ahead, the guys turned down a street and Shane sighed. Decision time. Pick up the pace so he didn’t lose them, or head back and text about meeting up later.

He heaved in a deep breath, and was utterly swamped by the scent of cinnamon. Finally taking in his surroundings, a nearby restaurant caught his eye. Despite the sign that advertised island cuisine, there was no doubt in his mind that they also offered cinnamon rolls, or something like it. The scent was too strong to deny. He’d already planned on an early lunch, but if he ate extra early here and got the cinnamon roll craving out of his system now, he’d have a much better chance of chatting properly with Nando at the buffet. No distractions, no hunger pangs, no fears of spinach in his teeth.

Definitely a good idea.

He’d grab a table, then he’d send a message through the group chat. If the guys wanted to join him, great, but Shane had always been comfortable with his own company. The pack didn’t often allow him much solitude—most of them preferred having company at all times—but Shane wasn’t a typical werewolf. In more than one aspect.

When Shane passed through a leafy passage to the host station, it was obvious that the majority of the seating was outdoors, underneath giant umbrellas and large mounted fans designed to shield diners from the oppressive tropical heat. But the atmosphere was pure island, and Shane mentally patted himself on the back for finding a place with so much local color he could add to his book.

A wave caught his attention and he froze.

Nando.

He forced himself to wave back.

“A table for one?“

The host brandished a menu at him with a smile.

Shane glanced back at Nando, and from some unexpected place, found the courage to overcome his discomfort.

“I’m just going to join my friend, thank you.”

She nodded and he took the proffered menu in a hand that had suddenly become clammy.

“Alright if I sit with you?“

Shane tried to channel Bryson when he was meeting new people.

“Please, sit.“

Nando smiled at him again. How was Shane supposed to think clearly with that smile blinding him to everything else?

“Uh, thanks.“

A small miscalculation with the chair ensued, and nearly goosing himself on the armrest sent his face flaming again, but Nando just smiled benevolently at him, like he hadn’t made a colossal fool of himself.

Maybe he hadn’t? Maybe Nando wasn’t judging him? Shane had spent most of his life worrying about fitting in. A defective werewolf in a pack was bound to have impostor syndrome from his mere existence. Made worse by the fact his grandfather was the pack’s leader. At some point, his father was expected to take over, although pack leadership wasn’t hereditary. It was obvious, though, that his shifter-itis was a disappointment to both his father and grandfather, because there was exactly zero chance the pack would ever elect him as leader.

Then again, being leader was about the last thing Shane wanted, so maybe he ought to be thankful for his defect.

“Are you okay?“

Nando asked.

Aside from possibly self-immolating due to ever-increasing embarrassment? Sure, he was just fine.

“Sorry. I’m an author. I get lost in my head sometimes.”

“Are you really? That’s very exciting. What have you written?”

Shane shrugged. “A few thrillers. I write under the name Evan Shane.”

“Oh, so Shane is your last name?”

A tiny thrill coursed through him. Nando remembered his name. The knowledge chased away some of Shane’s anxiety.

“No. My name is Shane Evans, but I didn’t want to write under my real name.“

His pack had been pleased by his success, but would also prefer not to bring any additional scrutiny from fans, so a pen name had been the way to go.

“I’m going to look you up. I normally read sci-fi and paranormal stuff.”

Without Nando’s intense gaze on him, Shane was able to compose himself a bit.

“Oh, these look great. I’m going to order some,“

Nando exclaimed as he peered at his phone.

“You don’t have to do that. I don’t write anything, uh, otherworldly.“

His pack would probably disown him if he did.

“But I want to.“

Nando sent another paralyzing smile Shane’s way. “A good story is a good story.”

The server arrived, placing a glass of water in front of Shane, and breaking the tension a bit, much to Shane’s relief.

“What can I get you?”

“I’ve already ordered,“

Nando said.

“Cinnamon rolls?“

Shane asked the server.

“I’m sorry, we don’t have any of those.”

Shane was floored. How could they not, with the scent so strong? He should have looked at the menu.

“If you’re interested in sweet, they have excellent key lime pie here,“

Nando said. “For savory, they’ve got a great fried fish sandwich.”

“Oh. That sounds good. Can I have that?”

The server nodded and slipped away.

“You like cinnamon rolls?”

Shane shrugged. “They’re my favorite, but I could swear I’m smelling them everywhere. It’s made me crave them.”

To his surprise, Nando’s cheeks went red and he looked abashed. “It’s probably me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m a pastry chef on the ship. The sweet smells tend to cling, although I suppose there are worse things I could smell like.”

“Oh. That must be fascinating.”

Nando shrugged. “It was at first. But even if I wanted to make you cinnamon rolls, I couldn’t. The menus are decided by the head chef, and no deviations are allowed. It’s too bad, because I make both a mean cinnamon roll and Chelsea bun.

“What’s a Chelsea bun?“

Shane hadn’t ever had one of those.

“It’s kind of a cousin to the cinnamon roll. British. Do you like dried fruit?”

Shane wrinkled his nose. “Not raisins, but I like other things.”

“Yeah, I get it. Raisins can be very polarizing.”

Shane smiled. He was loving having a conversation with someone who would just drop in a word like polarizing. Especially with regards to raisins.

“Well, if I were to make you Chelsea buns, I wouldn’t use raisins. Currents, maybe. Pineapple?”

Shane nodded. “I like both of those. But you can’t make what you want on the ship?”

“Nah. It’s a little boring actually. The ship I worked on previously, the head chef allowed us to make suggestions, but not this one. But this job is just a means to an end, so I put up with it.”

“This isn’t your dream job, then?”

“No. I’m saving up to open my own bakery.”

“That’s amazing. My next book is going to be set on a cruise ship. Can I ask you some questions about how things work behind the scenes?”

And just like that, they fell into comfortable conversation. Over the course of their meal, Shane got a ton of information, but they also shared other details like where they’d grown up and what their family life was like. Nando, whose name was short for Fernando, told him about the internship he’d done in a Parisian patisserie, and Shane shared his story about his very brief stop on a book tour in Paris where he’d seen almost none of the sights. To which Nando told him he’d definitely have to go back on vacation.

By the time the bill came, Shane felt more comfortable than he’d felt with anyone new in a long time. Shane tried to pick up the tab, but Nando insisted on a split.

“We’re not supposed to date passengers,“

Nando explained. “And if you pay, it looks like we were on a date.”

That got Shane flustered again. “Oh. I was, um…“

He’d been going to ask Nando on another date. Because this had felt like a date. Or at least, resembled the way dates were depicted in books and movies.

Shane’s hand started fluttering in the way it did when he couldn’t find the words to say. Speaking was much harder than writing.

Nando smiled and grabbed Shane’s hand, sending a shock through Shane’s system, more pleasant than a slap across the face, but startling enough to cut through the anxiety that had started rising again.

“I would date you in a heartbeat, if it wouldn’t get me fired. But maybe you should consider going for a swim with the pigs at our next port.“

Nando’s wink was suggestive in a way that Shane was unable to interpret.

Then Nando let his hand go, and checked his watch. “I’m sorry, I have to get going. Crew needs to be back on the ship earlier than passengers.”

He dropped a few bills with his check, and smiled, leaving a swirl of sweet cinnamon in his wake.

Shane sighed, and sat back in his chair. He’d thought they had a connection, something he’d so rarely experienced. But even if crew were allowed to “date“

passengers, it wouldn’t be dating for real. Just a brief fling. The cruise was too short for anything else, and Nando’s home town was almost the whole width of the country away from Shane’s.

A lost cause, no matter what schemes his cousins had in mind.

Nevertheless, he should have at least asked Nando if they could walk back to the ship together.

By the time he’d paid for his meal—credit cards could take so long—and was back out on the street, Nando was nowhere in sight.

Shane sighed.

“Where the fuck have you been?“

Bryson’s voice behind him was loud and angry.

Shane turned to see three flushed, frowning faces. “Oh. Hi.”

Kaden glared at him. “Is that all you have to say? Why didn’t you answer your phone? Message us? We’ve been looking all over for you.”

“I’m sorry. I meant to text you. I stopped, uh, here for lunch.“

Shane jabbed a thumb over his shoulder at the restaurant he’d just left.

“You had lunch. A nice leisurely lunch all by yourself, while we tore ass up and down every side street looking for you.“

Bryson was not at all mollified. A deep crease appeared between his brows.

Kaden continued to glare at him.

Noah was the one who explained. “Too many people are wearing the same sunscreen you are.“

He tapped his nose. “A bit confusing.”

At least in human form. Shane assumed that wouldn’t have been a problem if either of them had been able to get fuzzy. Even if it gave them a taste of what he dealt with on the daily, he hadn’t intended to worry them.

“I am sorry. Nando was there, eating, and he invited me to join him. I completely spaced on anything else.”

Suddenly, no one was mad at him, and it took the rest of their time on the island for him to relate every minute of his lunch. It had been a long time since Shane had talked that much.

“It sucks that crew members can’t date passengers,“

Kaden said. “Kinda ruins what might have been a fun meet cute.”

Shane shrugged. “I don’t know. I was thinking about it. Wouldn’t it be more like a vacation fling, rather than actually dating?”

“I guess, these days, interactions of that sort could leave the cruise line open to litigation and bad press,“

Bryson said.

Shane agreed. With his imagination, he could think of a handful of bad scenarios right off the top of his head. Some of which ended in murder, even. Hmmm...

“But wait, didn’t he say you should swim with the pigs?“

Noah asked.

“Should? I don’t know. Maybe it was just a recommendation?“

Shane might have imagined the wink. Even if Nando had winked, Shane was piss poor at interpreting non-verbal cues. He wasn’t super good with verbal ones either. Unlike the characters in his books.

“Oh, I think Noah might be onto something,“

Kaden said. Bryson also nodded his agreement.

“Swimming with pigs, though? Isn’t that, I dunno, weird?“

Shane had never heard of such a thing until he’d been browsing through the shore excursions yesterday. And he’d scrolled right on past the pig thing. Swimming with dolphins he got, even though he wasn’t sure he’d want to do that either.

Bryson clapped him on the shoulder. “At worst, you’ll have an anecdote to include in your book. At best, what’s wrong with a vacation fling?”

Shane sighed. He’d been propositioned at so many book signings and events it wasn’t even funny. Sex was available if he wanted it. But casual sex wasn’t really his thing. It all seemed so awkward. He liked it, fine, but he wanted a partner more than he wanted sex without strings.

Nando was the sexiest man he’d seen in a while, though. A fling would be better than regrets, as long as there was a way to do it without Nando getting fired. Shane would never be able to live with the guilt of that.

“C’mon. Let’s get back on the ship. I’m starving.“

Kaden directed another glare at Shane, but it lacked the heat of the previous ones.

Shane left them at the buffet and headed back to his room. Aside from proving an interesting and attractive dining companion, Nando had also given him a lot of valuable information and he wanted to make some notes before he forgot it all.

He also wanted to make sure he had time to shower and primp a little before dinner. Just in case Nando was in charge of the dessert delivery again.

Fine. The pigs were adorable. And there was someone monitoring the whole pooping in the water situation. Worrying about that had kept Shane awake part of the night as he pictured wading into a sea of pig poop.

On their way to the excursion, they passed a building that was part shop, part bar. As usual, Shane trailed behind, everyone else eager as could be to get down to the beach for their turn with the pigs. Movement on the far side of the shop caught his eye.

Then Nando’s head poked out around the building and he beckoned to Shane.

Shane glanced around, but no one was paying him any mind. He did his best to stroll languidly to the shadowed side of the shop, and when he stepped into the gloom, Nando reached out and pulled him further into the shadows.

“Hi,“

Nando said, fingers still wrapped loosely around Shane’s wrist. Shane was intensely aware of every bit of skin that touched, as well as the warmth radiating from Nando’s body, mere inches from him. Wearing nothing but swim trunks and a towel slung over a well-formed shoulder. Shouldn’t it be illegal for pastry chefs to look that hot?

“Hi,“

Shane said back, unable to think of anything pithy to say.

They stared into each other eyes for a long minute, then Nando moved his hands to Shane’s shoulders. The skin on skin contact was almost too much, and Shane bit his lip. Nando leaned in, and Shane turned his head just so.

Their lips fit together like they’d been kissing their entire adult lives. Nando tasted as sweet as he smelled, and within moments, Nando had him pressed tight against the wall.

Shane groaned into the kiss and their mouths opened, kiss turning voracious.

Loud squeals—pig and human—broke the bubble of desire enough for Nando to pull out of the kiss and for Shane to regain a tiny semblance of control.

Nando glanced around. “I think it’s okay.“

His voice was low, husky, and played across Shane’s body like a caress.

“Is it? I don’t want to get you fired.“

Shane sounded like he’d just run a marathon. He’d never been so comfortable with someone during a first kiss to lose himself so thoroughly.

Nando smirked. “Eh. I’m just about done with this job anyway. I think you’re worth the risk.”

Was he? Or was he just one of a string of risky encounters for Nando?

This wasn’t the time for his self-esteem issues to show their ugly faces. Besides, he might not be a fully functioning werewolf, but this close he could definitely scent Nando’s sincerity. He wasn’t sure what Nando saw in him, but this was not the time to question it.

Before he could pull Nando back into a kiss—which had already made both of their swim trunks utterly X-rated—a ripple ran down his arms. Shane froze. Then his muscles locked and released, over and over in short succession.

What was wrong with him?

Nando stepped back. “Are you okay?”

“I don’t know.“

Shane’s voice sounded thick and gravelly. He clenched his fists against the involuntary twitching of his fingers, but it didn’t stop the shivers wracking the rest of his body. His heartbeat was fast, and picking up speed. The thrum in his ears was loud enough to drown out the nearby surf.

His limbs felt wrong. His face felt wrong. A werewolf could die of a heart attack, but Shane had never heard of it happening to someone as young as him.

“I’m calling a medic.”

“No. Get Bryson. Please.“

The words didn’t even sound like him anymore. But if he was having a heart attack, he needed Bryson to run interference for him. Nando ran for the beach.

Shane gritted his teeth together and attempted breathing exercises, but then the pain started and he dropped to his knees. The breathing exercises had turned into a low panting sound, but he was at least able to keep from whimpering.

An eternity later, Bryson, Kaden, and Noah pounded his way, while Nando hovered anxiously.

“Bry, help,“

Shane squeezed out.

Bryson’s eyes widened. “Oh, shit.“

He turned to Nando. “It’s a seizure. It’ll be fine, but I need to get him somewhere private. Fast.”

“Private?“

Nando scanned the beach. “Nothing close by.”

Bryson growled. “Fine. Let’s get him behind the building then. We don’t want any of the other passengers to see him.”

“They’ll understand it’s a medical emergency,“

Nando said. Bryson and Kaden didn’t pay any attention, they just lifted Shane between them and hauled him behind the store.

Shane fell back on the ground. “Am I dying?“

Somehow there were too many teeth in his mouth.

Bryson knelt beside him. “No, Shane. But you do seem to make things difficult for yourself.”

“What?“

The word was hardly comprehensible. Dying. He had to be dying.

Nando moved in and tried to take his hand, but Bryson waved him off.

“Nando, I’m sorry, but you definitely don’t want to be holding his hand right now.”

“This isn’t like any seizure I’ve ever seen.”

“No. It isn’t,“

Bryson agreed.

Shane was dimly aware of Noah doing something with a towel, but everything hurt.

Bryson stroked sweaty hair out of his face. “You need to stop fighting, Shane. Trying to stop it only makes it hurt more.”

It took a second for Bryson’s words to register. Then Shane realized two things at the same time. He was going through his first shift, and he was going to do so in front of a human with no knowledge of their kind. So much for his vacation romance.

Then, the world reformed around him. Colors muted and blended. Things got taller. The noise of passengers frolicking with pigs got louder, the pain abated, and Nando smelled even more decadent.

He took a step and stumbled over his two extra paws.

“Holy shit.“

Nando’s tone was low and reverent, the sharp tang of fear faded almost instantly, leaving only cinnamon sweetness behind.

Bryson led Nando away, and Shane was too wrung out to follow. Also, he couldn’t exactly speak with a wolf’s muzzle.

Kaden sat down beside him and started talking him through how to become unfuzzy. It sounded exhausting, but Shane didn’t want to scare people. Neither did he want to get trapped here when the ship left. No one was going to let a wolf on a cruise ship. In fact, he might be shot on sight.

So, he concentrated on Kaden’s words, and finally returned to the body he’d been using for the past thirty plus years.

“There you are,“

Kaden smiled at him. “Better late bloomer than never, right?”

Shane didn’t have the energy to do anything but blink at him.

Bryson returned alone, unsurprisingly. “Hey, you’re unfuzzy already. Good job. It’s hard shifting so close together.”

No shit. Shane breathed, his muscles aching. At least he wasn’t naked.

“Did anyone else see me?“

Shane croaked out.

“Nah.“

Kaden patted his shoulder. “Noah set up some towels to try and shield you, but I think the scent of wolf panicked the pigs. Everyone was too caught up in trying to calm them down to worry where you’d gotten to.”

Despite his bone-deep exhaustion, Shane’s lips twitched in amusement. Poor pigs. Was he the first predator they’d ever smelled?

“C’mon. We’ll get you back to the ship, and order some room service. Pretty soon you’re going to be starving like you’ve never eaten before.“

Bryson helped him to his feet, and Kaden fell into step on his other side.

It was a long fucking way back to the ship. Miles and miles more than the trip from the ship, or so it seemed.

Once back on the ship, every crew member they passed offered medical help, which Bryson declined, and Shane could swear the ship had somehow doubled in size.

By the time he tumbled into his bed, he was covered in sweat and limp as an overcooked noodle. But also starving, so he was thrilled to hear Bryson ordering just about everything on the room service menu.

As soon as he stuffed himself to bursting, he passed out. For hours.

Shane typed The End on his document and sighed. It was always the last thing he did, after rounds of edits and revisions, before sending a book off to his editor. He opened an email, attached it, and off it went with an annoyingly cheery little ding.

Was the cruise a success? Maybe. The book he’d just written was good. And he was thankful his shifter-itis wasn’t terminal. In fact, he’d been able to join the pack during the last full moon. Getting fuzzy hadn’t felt totally natural, but at least he’d been able to do it. His parents had been thrilled.

But it turned out that being a full functioning werewolf didn’t magically change his personality. He still didn’t love crowds. He was still socially awkward. He still preferred his solitary writing profession. He had no burning desire to lead the pack.

He regretted being so wiped after his first shift that he’d slept through the entire rest of the cruise and barely stumbled off the ship with the guys’ help. He didn’t see Nando again, and he used writing to stave off his disappointment.

The aching emptiness inside him seemed all out of proportion for a man he’d barely gotten to know, but over the past six weeks, work on his book had filled the abyss.

He wasn’t quite sure what he was going to do now that the book was finished. He’d written it faster than any of his other books, but he needed time between books to regroup and solidify a new idea.

Picking up his phone, he saw Bryson had sent his daily text, asking how he was doing.

Shane

Book is done.

Bryson

Good. Lunch?

Shane was going to decline, but realized he was starving.

Shane

Sure. Where?

Bryson

Diner? An hour?

Shane took a quick shower and dressed in his most comfortable sweatpants combined with a faded t-shirt. The diner didn’t exactly expect business casual.

He parked in the lot behind the diner and when he got there, Bryson was already in a booth.

For a moment, Bryson looked dismayed, but Shane had no idea why.

They settled in, ordered, and Shane told Bryson a bit about his book.

When the food came, Bryson changed the subject.

“How are you doing, really?”

Shane shrugged. “Dunno. Usually I’m more elated about sending off a book.”

“And the shifting?”

Holding back another shrug, he sighed. “I’m pleased. Obviously. I don’t know. Maybe I’m still getting used to it all?”

“I have a theory about that.”

“Yeah, what?”

“After we eat.”

“What? No, Bryson, tell me.“

Because he didn’t want to feel like this forever.

“It’s better if I show you. After lunch.”

With a glare, Shane focused on his food. Shifting, even if he’d only done it a couple of times, had really amped his metabolism up. It was almost like his growth spurt as a teen, and he was starving almost all the time.

When they were finished, Bryson paid the bill without even giving Shane a chance to order dessert. Which was fine, just this once, because he wanted to know what Bryson’s theory was. But Shane loved dessert and he wasn’t about to skip it on a regular basis.

“Well, what’s the theory?“

Shane couldn’t resist asking.

“Come on, it’s just a short walk.”

Shane bared his teeth at Bryson’s back, but followed him out the door to the sidewalk.

They had only walked a short distance when he realized Pamela’s bakery was no longer shuttered and dark.

“Hey, did someone open a new bakery?“

If anything could deter him from finding out whatever Bryson had cooked up in his brain, it was this. Shane had missed the damned bakery so much. Also, if he’d waited one more second, he’d have noticed the banner announcing the grand opening of Romero’s.

“Yeah, someone did. Want to take a look?”

“Yes, I do.“

There were plenty of patrons inside, but Saturday was always busy for a bakery. If he wanted a good selection to sample the prowess of the new baker, he should probably get in there now.

Shane walked toward the door, but stopped short by the chalkboard sandwich board set up in front of the window.

Special! Shane’s Chelsea Buns

A zing went through his midsection. Surely not.

He burst through the door, and there, behind the counter, was a smiling Nando.

When Nando met his gaze, his eyes widened, and his smile got wider and brighter.

Savannah, another cousin, was also behind the counter. Nando murmured something to her and he whipped off his apron before rounding the counter.

“Hi,“

Nando said, giving Shane some serious déjà vu. But this time, the only flutters were the ones in his belly.

“Hi. When did this all happen? And who is Romero?”

Shane could hardly believe he was interrogating the man he thought he’d never see again. But this couldn’t be real, could it?

“Romero is me. I’m Fernando Romero. And Bryson gave me contact info for the head of the chamber of commerce. Said they were looking for someone to take over a bakery.”

“Oh.“

Shane tried not to sound disappointed.

“But the fact you lived here clinched things.”

“Oh?“

Things were looking up again.

“Want to try a Chelsea bun?”

“Well, you named them after me, so I should test them to make sure they’re good.”

“Oh, they’re good,“

Nando purred and Shane had to step back to avoid leaping into the man’s arms.

“Um, weren’t you freaked out about... you know...“

Shane curled his hands into claws. Probably looked more like a cat trying to scratch something but even in their pack-heavy town, it wasn’t something one just blurted out in public.

“Oh. Not really. I’ve read lots of books that feature, um, shifters and things. I thought it was so cool.”

Cool. Shane could live with cool. But he should probably read a couple of those books, just to see what Nando thought he knew.

“So, uh, did you want to go somewhere for dinner tonight?“

The bravery came out of nowhere, but every moment he’d not been working on his book had been filled with regret that he wasn’t going to see Nando again. Shane didn’t want to live with any more regrets.

“I absolutely do.”

Shane glanced down at himself. He’d showered, sure, but hadn’t bother styling his hair and he sported his oldest, rattiest clothing.

“Oh hell.“

Bryson could have damn well warned him. “I’ll change first.”

“I don’t care what you wear,“

Nando said with a simplicity that warmed Shane through and through.

They made a quick plan then Savannah brought over a warm, sticky, cinnamon-y bun that was clearly a relative of his until-now fav, cinnamon roll.

Shane sat at one of the tiny wrought iron tables by the window, and Nando left him to go back to work while Bryson joined him. Bryson tweaked off a corner of the delightful bun, and a completely unexpected growl escaped Shane. Bryson just laughed and popped the bit of dough in his mouth.

“Good job, cousin. You gotta go easy on the human mates, but it’s pretty clear he feels the pull. I think you’ll be fine.”

Mate? Mate. Of course. That explained a lot, including the unexpected cure of his shifter-itis and the fact that Nando always smelled delightful. Mates were supposed to smell like the best thing ever. He glanced at Nando, only to find him gazing back at him.

Yup. Mate. One he thought he’d never have, but he was ready to woo Nando like a mate should be wooed. Shane was more than ready to be in love, and it seemed like Nando was ready for that too.

Shane glanced back at Bryson, who was wearing a very smug expression.

Dammit. Bryson was going to claim credit for this for the rest of their lives.

He glanced back at Nando.

Then again, he probably owed Bryson more than he could ever repay for giving Nando the information about the bakery.

“Did you know he was my mate?”

“I suspected,“

Bryson replied.

“How?”

“I swear, no one in this family listens to the elders. Kaden hadn’t heard about the yips, and you didn’t know shifter-itis isn’t always terminal.”

“It isn’t?“

Obviously it wasn’t, because Shane could now shift, but he’d never heard about anyone else coming into their shift as late as he had.

Bryson shook his head in dismay. “Nope. I mean, not to say it isn’t terminal for some people, but there’s a form that is cured by the presence of a mate. And when you shifted after locking lips with Nando, it seemed obvious which version you had.”

“And how did you know we’d, uh, kissed?“

Shane was about to get annoyed if his cousin had been spying on them.

But Bryson tapped his nose and snorted. “Pheromones, dude. They were so strong I’m surprised Noah couldn’t smell them.”

Oh. Yeah. That kiss had been crazy hot. Shane definitely owed Bryson for the rest of his life.

“Thanks,“

he whispered.

Bryson smiled. “Eat your Chelsea bun.”

Shane took a large bite and just about fainted. Nando hadn’t been lying about his skill. A talented mate with eyes only for him.

Best day ever. Best life ever.