All Kinds of Tied Down (34 page)

“Sounds like a plan.”

“All I wanna do is sleep in your bed.”

He’d be lucky to do any of that.

“I wanna be there, like, now.”

“You have no idea what you’re getting into.”

“Yeah, I do,” he said softly. “I’m yours.”

They were magic words.

O
NCE
WE
landed in Chicago, we walked through one of the many enormous terminals toward the security gates, then down to baggage claim, where we could get a cab back to the field office to process Drake and Cabot.

“Daddy!”

We all looked up as a beautiful little dark-eyed, dark-haired girl came charging toward us. I was wondering where her father was when I saw Kage drop to one knee and hold out his arms. She flung herself into them, hugging him tight, her smile huge.

His daughter?

Christ.

Would it kill the man to have pictures on his desk? And I got it, we were marshals, and you didn’t want scary people perusing snapshots of your kids, but still. It was a lot to take in, Sam Kage as a father. He let her go and took her hand, didn’t turn to introduce her to us, nothing. They walked together, him looking down, her looking up, as she chattered to him about their cat that was now pink, something about food coloring and an experiment gone wrong and cupcakes. When the doors slid open and we walked outside, she waved crazily, and a boy, older, maybe nine or ten, ran up and stopped, wrapping his arms around Kage’s waist, leaning for a second as the scary man who led our team bent and kissed the top of his head.

I wondered which kid was adopted as both children left him, his son with his duffel, his daughter with his laptop bag, running to the curb where a van idled. The side door slid open sideways, and then, from the driver’s side window, a head popped out. And you could have knocked me over with a feather.

Not a woman.

Sam Kage did not have a wife.

The kids climbed into the back, and the door closed as Kage reached for the stunning blond man beaming at him. He cupped his face in his hands, leaned in, and kissed him. It was quick, but tender and a revelation to witness, because holy crap, who knew Kage had it in him? When the other man ducked back inside, Kage opened the passenger-side door and got in. They didn’t leave, though; the man popped his head out again, looked right at us, and waved.

“Glad to see you again, Deputy White.”

My teammate waved back, Kage raised a hand, and the van was gone seconds later.

I rounded on White. “You fuck!”

“What?”

“How come you never told me our boss was gay?”

He bristled. “What does it matter?”

“Because I’m gay, asshole,” I barked.

“Oh yeah,” he huffed, relaxing from his combative stance. “I forgot.”

And that was nice, that to White it didn’t matter one way or another who I slept with—I was simply another member of his team. But still! Kage was gay?

“Does everybody know but me?”

“I don’t think anybody knows but me, Sharpe, and now you and Doyle.”

“How does Sharpe know?”

He squinted at me. “Everything I know, my partner knows.”

“Right. Sure.” Processing. “He’s gay?”

“Yep.”

“How did you find out?”

“I had to take some surveillance photos over to his house like three years ago now. It was right before you started, actually.”

“So how long?”

“How long what? How long has he been gay? How the fuck am I supposed—”

“No. How long has he been with his husband?”

“Oh, he’s been in a civil union with Mr. Harcourt like fifteen years or something, but in June they’re gonna have a big party.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah.”

“And you know this how?”

“I was with him when he was talking to that friend of his, you know, the homicide detective who has that billionaire boyfriend—what’s his name?”

“I don’t remember.”

“Well, that’s how I know.”

I had to absorb. “Sam Kage is gay.”

“So am I, get over it,” Ian said, walking around me toward the curb to get a cab.

“See, now, I figured Doyle was gay too,” White yawned as he looked for his wife’s car in the sea of vehicles.

“What?” I managed to get out, certain I was having a heart attack.

He shrugged. “I mean, how he looks at you all the time? You’d hafta be blind to miss that shit, right?”

Oh dear God.

“And how you’re always in his space and you’re the only one he lets do that—I mean, I was pretty sure you guys were, yanno… together.”

I needed to sit down before I passed out. Leaning over, I put my hands on my thighs and took steady in and out breaths before I hyperventilated.

“What the fuck’s with you?”

“Nothing,” I croaked.

“Oh, there’s my wife,” White said, smiling as he waved. “You guys wanna ride or—”

“No, we’re good,” I rasped, my mouth dry. “And you shouldn’t want Ford and Jenner near your wife anyway. They’re witnesses, or did you forget?”

“No, smartass, I didn’t forget.”

“Well, technically they shouldn’t have seen Kage’s family, either.”

“Yeah, but there’s grades of witness,” he reminded me. “And your boys are classified as friendly and long-term. You know that.”

I did know that.

“So,” he asked again. “Ride or no?”

“No, we’re good. You go home. I’ll see ya tomorrow.”

“Okay, I’ll see ya,” he said, chuckling, patting me on the shoulder before he dashed to the curb.

A gentle hand touched my back, and I turned to find Cabot there, looking concerned, Drake with him, holding both of their bags.

“You okay, Miro?” Cabot wanted to know.

“Yeah, buddy, I will be.”

His smile was blinding.

“Guys!” Ian yelled from the curb.

We all hurried.

A
T
THE
field office, we sat with Ryan and Dorsey as they performed the intake paperwork, going over the massive document that made Cabot Jenner and Drake Ford formal members of WITSEC. They went through where the boys would stay until an apartment was procured, how they were both officially now graduated from high school, and when they would go with me to the University of Chicago to get them both enrolled for the fall quarter.

“He went there,” Dorsey said, indicating me with a wave of his hand. “So he’s the best one to take you guys over.”

It took hours, like always—Ian and I had done it for others—and when I got up to go to the bathroom and get drinks for all involved, Kohn caught me in the hall.

“What?”

“White says you and Doyle are, like, together?”

I groaned.

“No, man,” he said, smiling, bumping me with his shoulder. “Nobody cares.”

“Maybe not you and White and—”

“Sharpe,” he teased.

Of course Sharpe already knew; White probably called him from the car. “Becker will care, so will Ching.”

“Nope,” Kohn assured me, shaking his head. “You and Doyle, we’re family, yeah? We’ve all got your back. You know that.”

I stared at him.

“Don’t be a dick, Jones,” he said irritably, walking away. “We never cared when we all knew it was just you.”

God, could it really be this easy? In our self-contained little group, no one cared? And it wasn’t that Ian and I were going to make a general announcement, but if the guys in our unit were okay with us, what else did we really need?

“Hey, you gotta come back in. Ryan’s digressing and we could be here all—what’s wrong?” Ian asked, walking around in front of me.

“Everybody knows.”

He shrugged. “Well, yeah, I told White I was gay at the airport. News travels fast with him. You know that.”

“White never let it slip about our boss.”

“That’s ’cause he’s our boss. But you and me are fair game.”

“So Ryan and Dorsey know?”

“Uh, yeah,” he said, chuckling. “Dorsey just said to Drake and Cabot that they’re lucky that they have gay marshals watching out for them, so we can run ’em down to Halstead.”

“He did not.”

Ian smirked.

“Fuckhead.”

“And you’re surprised, why?”

“Ian.”

He grunted.

“Are you sure you’re okay with all this?”

“I get to sleep with you, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, then, I’m good.”

I took a breath, and he took the cans of Pepsi out of my hands and walked back into the room. My plan was to follow him, but my phone rang, and seeing it was Liam, I answered.

“Hey,” I greeted him. “Is it okay if—”

“Miro,” Liam said.

“Yeah. Who else would it be?”

“Did Aruna call you?”

“No,” I said, and then a jolt of fear ran through me. “Is she okay?”

“Yeah, we both are, but we’re here talking to the police.”

“What? Why?”

“Dude, we got carjacked.”

One of my dearest friends had her life threatened? “Holy shit,” I choked, bolting from the room, on the way to the elevator. “Where are you guys? I can be there in—”

“No, it’s—”

“Is Aruna all right?” I demanded, rushing down the hall. “Are you all right? Did you—”

“No, listen. Shut the fuck up and stop moving. Don’t do anything but listen.”

I froze where I was.

“I meant to say, we were
almost
carjacked.”

And that made all the difference in the world. “Maybe
start
with that next time, dickhead.”

He grunted instead of apologizing and then gave me the rundown. The way he explained it, he and Aruna had stopped at a light on their way home. Liam rolled down the driver’s-side window to give money to a homeless guy on the street, and when that guy stepped away from the car, another thrust a gun in Liam’s face.

Aruna screamed, and before a demand could be made, Chickie shoved between their seats, scrambled over Liam’s lap, and launched himself at the window in a fury of ferocious snarling and snapping jaws.

“Miro, he scared the fuck outta that guy. He dropped his gun and ran.”

I took a breath. “You’re both okay.”

“Yeah,” he said hesitantly. “We called the police and they came to get the gun. They’re hoping that the prints or serial number or something will lead them to the guy.”

“Well, that’s good.”

“Yeah, it is.”

“So do you need me there or no?”

“No, we’re good.”

“So then what’s going on, ’cause you sound all weird. Are you freaking out?”

“The cops are here taking our statement, and they’re all treating Chickie like he’s the second coming, ya know?”

“Sure,” I said, trying to figure out why he sounded so odd. “What’s wrong?”’

He cleared his throat. “Aruna… she—she really doesn’t wanna give Chickie back.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

Liam coughed. “Aruna. She wants to keep Chickie, and I gotta tell you, how protective he is of her, how much he loved all the little kids this weekend, and my uncle, who’s a vet, he says that Chickie is actually not a wolf at all. He thinks he’s malamute and Caucasian Ovcharka.”

“I have no idea what that is.”

“Well, he thinks that’s why he’s so big, plus he’s got a really even temperament.”

I laughed into the phone. “Liam, Ian’s not gonna give you guys his dog.”

“Who better than a family to have him?”

“Liam—”

“Gotta go, talk to you later,” he said and then hung up.

I called Aruna, but all I got was her voice mail. Switching to text, I let her know that she couldn’t keep something that didn’t belong to her.

She sent back one word.
Hah.

I tried her again.

“What?” she said irritably, finally picking up.

“You can’t keep Ian’s dog, but I will let him stay until I get off tomorrow night,” I told her.

“I might move.”

“I’m a US marshal, I’ll find you.”

“But Miro,” she whined.

“No.”

“He loves me.”

“You’re gonna have a baby. You’re gonna be too busy to take care of a werewolf.”

Another whimper.

I laughed. “I’ll see ya tomorrow night.”

“Fine,” she said and hung up.

I stood there a second and then walked back to the office and into the room to listen to more of the intake paperwork. Cabot was nodding off; Drake had his chin in his hand, staring blearily at Ryan, who was reading in a monotone voice as Dorsey and Ian had their arms crossed, heads back, resting their eyes.

“You look weird,” Ian interrupted, which woke everyone up.

“Well, that’s because Liam and Aruna are trying to keep your dog.”

His smile was fast. “Yeah, I figured that was coming.”

“What? You did?”

“Yeah, I mean, who volunteers to take somebody else’s dog with them to the mountains? Come on.”

“You’re not gonna give them Chickie, are you?”

“I dunno,” he said thoughtfully. “I have to think about what’s best for him.”

“Really?”

“Sure. For instance, where would he go every day?”

I didn’t even have to think, I knew already. “He’d stay home with Aruna or go to the fire station with Liam.”

“And when Liam’s home, he’d take him with him wherever he went, right? Plus when Aruna has the baby, when she goes out, who better to protect her and the baby than demon dog?”