Colorado Flames WIth A Texas Twist (10 page)

“To figure out who hurt you?”

“The cops could do that. I really should go to the cops.”

James stood up and eyed Brody. “It’s not that easy. You saw what we have on the ranch. You only know part of the truth. We don’t go looking for trouble by calling in the cops.”

Brody shook his head. “No, you are the trouble.”

“Maybe we are, but we’re the good kind of trouble, the kind that one day, you might be thanking us for.”

“And now I have you in my house.” Brody turned to leave but looked back over his shoulder. “I’m hungry, let’s go grab some food.”

“Sure. I’ll drive.”

*~*~*

Brody directed James to one of his favorite seafood restaurants in Pueblo. He didn’t come here often, but it reminded him of home. He had a sinking suspicion that the person after him was from home. It hadn’t occurred to him that getting his things from storage in Washington would be such a big deal. He’d gone about it in a way he thought wouldn’t attract attention. Four months ago he’d had his things shipped to a storage facility in Nevada. Then he’d had a different driver take the items south then come north. He guessed he hadn’t been careful enough.

The smart thing would have been to cut his ties and just leave all of the items behind, but there were photographs of his parents, one of his mom and dad, that he wanted to keep. It had been stupid, and they’d warned him that he couldn’t ever go back home, but that’s why he’d arranged for his boxes to be shipped instead of going back to get them himself.

“You’re being quiet. You ready to go in?” James asked.

“Sure.”

They entered the restaurant and James asked for a table near the edge of the dining room. He shrugged when James insisted on sitting so he could see the room. Brody studied the menu though he knew exactly what he was going to get. Surf and turf, that was his mainstay when he ate here.

The waitress came over and took their order then left. James leaned forward, his gaze searching the room. Brody had no idea what James really did. Sure, he’d seen the inside of their house, seen the guns, and watched the US military come to their aid with nothing more than a quick call, but that told him little.

“You look serious,” James said.

“I don’t really know what you do.” Brody picked up his napkin and unfolded it, smoothing it across his lap. “I guess that’s not important though. You’re not going to tell me, am I right? It’s the big mystery.”

James shrugged. “You really don’t want to know, trust me.”

They were silent for a while, James continuing to survey the room. He took the opportunity to study James’s face, taking in the high cheekbones and the sweet curve of his lips. The few times they’d kissed, James’s lips had felt so good on his. Maybe he wasn’t really gay and it was just James he was attracted to, but he didn’t think so. James was sexy for sure, but he’d wanted guys before.

“What?” James asked and wiped his mouth. “Do I already have something on my face?”

“No, nothing at all. Sorry, just thinking. So this guy who tried to run me over, do you have any ideas?”

“None at all. We need to do some more digging into your past, see if we can come up with someone who is holding a grudge.”

Brody smoothed his hands over his napkin in his lap, adjusting it twice before looking up to meet James’s gaze. “About that, there are—”

“And who had the shrimp?” The server was right beside them, interrupting their conversation, cutting Brody off.

“That’s mine,” James said.

“Ah, then yours must be the steak and lobster. Can I get you anything else?” The waitress said as she placed Brody’s plate in front of him.

“No, I’m good,” James offered.

“Thanks. I’m fine.” Brody picked up his fork and knife, not sure if he should continue their conversation. It was a good thing that they’d been interrupted. Telling James the truth was against the rules. Fuck, he was screwed. That he hadn’t communicated with his contact recently was not good. He probably should call, but that would mean admitting that he’d made a mistake.

Chapter Eleven

James punched his pillow and flipped over. Brody was still ambivalent about him staying at his house and it was getting worse. After dinner they’d come back to Brody’s and right off James noticed that Brody’s mood had soured. He’d said something, trying to diffuse the situation, but it had set the man off. They’d ended up yelling at each other then Brody headed to his room, slamming the door. James had gone to bed, unhappy that they hadn’t resolved the issue. He wanted Brody to open up and help him figure out who could have injured him, but Brody didn’t want to talk.

He hoped that they’d work it out in the morning. No question, he was very attracted to Brody and that didn’t help matters. The selfish part of him wanted to force Brody to do what he wanted, but overpowering the man to get him into bed wouldn’t make the situation any better.

As he tossed and turned, he noticed that the light in the bathroom turned on. Being angry wasn’t working for either of them, and he really wanted to fix the problem before he went to sleep. But was now a good time? He stood, weighing the pros and cons of talking now versus waiting. On his way over to the bathroom his heart started pounding. They needed to move forward.

The light switched off and Brody stepped out of the bathroom, almost running into James.

“Shit, you freaking scared me,” Brody barked.

“We need to talk.”

“Fuck, not now. I mean...shit, I’m not wearing a shirt.”

“Neither am I.” The hall was dark, but enough light shone in from the street for him to see that Brody had a light dusting of chest hair. Desire shot straight to his dick.

Brody cleared his throat but James didn’t look up. He wanted to touch, so he lifted his hand and paused in front of Brody’s chest. Neither one of them moved. Since Brody didn’t back away James took it as consent.

Only using one finger he traced the path of hair from between Brody’s pecs to his bellybutton. He wouldn’t go lower, though he wanted to. The stalemate between them was painful. If Brody didn’t want this, he’d move, at least that was the logic James used, but he could see the other side of the coin. Maybe Brody felt trapped. He was being unfair hemming him in, forcing his touch.

He was about to pull away when Brody grabbed James’s hand and forced it lower, dipping both of their hands into the waistband of his underwear. Brody groaned when James brushed his fingers against the flat head of his cock. James’s fingers tingled from the contact, his head spinning as he tried not to rush for more. Brody stepped closer and leaned his head on James’s shoulder, his breathing erratic.

“Can I stroke you?” James asked.

Brody nodded and dropped his hold on James’s hand. It was like Brody didn’t know what to hold onto. He stood with his hands at his side, his head still resting on James’s shoulder.

“You can touch me if you want,” James said.

The bark of laughter from Brody startled James. “I want to fuck you. Why the hell do I want to do that? I’m supposed to like girls, but I want to be naked with you, shoving my dick in your ass while you lie beneath me. How fucking sick am I?”

James stopped stroking Brody and pulled his hand out of his underwear. Every thing he was doing at that exact minute was wrong. He wasn’t supposed to get involved like this. Brody let out a strangled noise that wasn’t a groan, but wasn’t a scream.

“Even you’re grossed out by me,” Brody whispered, his head hung in defeat.

“No, I’m not. But I’m damn sure not going to take advantage of you. Can we go sit on the couch and talk?”

“Why, so you can force me to tell you something I don’t want to?”

“No, so I can kiss you.”

Brody shivered and let out a sob. “You’re in my space every day since the fire, and now you live here. I can’t think, I can’t eat, I can’t sleep without thinking of you. When you showered earlier, I almost passed out because my dick was so hard.”

“I’m sorry.” James led Brody through the house to the couch. “Sit and let me get you some water.”

He flipped on the lamp beside the couch on his way to the kitchen. Glancing back, he saw that Brody’s eyes were red and his brows bunched. This wasn’t how he wanted things. After grabbing a glass of water, he picked up the leftover bread from the restaurant and brought them both out to Brody.

“Drink this and eat a little.”

Brody took a sip and tore off a piece of bread. He chewed thoughtfully, his gaze anywhere but on James. After Brody swallowed, James moved to sit beside him.

“Listen, I don’t want to make your life worse. I just want to find the guy who hit you. Could you give me some details about your past, maybe something that would clue us in on why someone would want to run you off the road?”

“You’ll think less of me. And no one knows. That’s over and done with, they couldn’t find me.”

A warning zipped through James as he digested Brody’s words. He didn’t let his worry show as he wrapped his arm around Brody’s shoulder. The contact felt good then Brody extended his arm between them, resting his hand on James’s leg. His brain fuzzed for a second. He drew in a deep breath as they settled into the seat. Brody leaned his head on James’s shoulder and relaxed against him. The contact felt amazing. His whole body tingled as he held Brody. They sat like that for a long while. Long enough for James to think Brody had fallen asleep. Then he began speaking.

“I lived in Washington State near Seattle. Money was tight. My dad was sick and dying.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” James whispered.

Brody drew in a shuddering breath and shook his head. “It was awful. I was too young for the responsibility. I made some bad decisions. My dad needed something to cut the pain. The shit the doctors were giving him made him feel bad. He hated taking the prescription painkillers. They messed with his mind and his body.”

A bad feeling wormed its way through James. He had a sinking suspicion that Brody was about to tell him that he’d done something illegal. James had spent his adult years fighting against drugs and drug dealers.

“I bought some stuff. It was good because it helped my dad. He was still dying, but he wasn’t in bed moaning all the time. He could sit up for a while and talk. The marijuana helped him so much that he actually got out of bed and sat outside the last few weeks of his life. He loved the birds and the forests. The screech of an eagle or the cry of a hawk brought pleasure to his life. He smiled. Do you know how long it had been since I’d seen my dad smile? That kind of shit rips you apart.”

Brody was silent for a while and James wanted to press him for more, but he figured Brody would tell everything in time. He ran his hand through Brody’s hair and snuggled closer. Brody glanced up, his eyes wide and his lips parted. James stared down into his beautiful blue eyes but didn’t move. Eventually Brody sat up with his elbows resting on his knees. The physical contact they’d shared wasn’t enough. James wanted more, but he wouldn’t take advantage of Brody.

“I really couldn’t afford to buy everything my dad needed so I sold a little on the side, not much, but enough to pay off my debt.”

James closed his eyes, stifling a groan. Brody had been a dealer. Fuck, he’d found a guy who was perfect for him and the man turned out to be a drug dealer. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as it sounded. James remained quiet, hoping that Brody would say something that redeemed the situation.

“My dad died and I didn’t need the drugs. I quit selling.”

“Were you ever taking?”

“No, hell no. Just my dad smoked the pot. I didn’t want to because I wanted to be a cop or fireman or something like that.”

“Were you only dealing marijuana?”

“No.”

James fought to hold in his anger. He’d seen over and over again what drugs did to people, to kids. That Brody had done that to someone, given them the instrument to ruin their life, crushed him. It went against everything he stood for. He noticed that even his fingers were tense. He forced himself to calm. “So you quit dealing?”

“Yeah.”

“I bet that went over well.”

Brody slumped on the couch beside James, his face buried in his hands. “Not so well, really. He called, asking me to meet him. I didn’t show at the location we’d agreed on. The guy kept calling me, and I got tired of it. I called a friend of mine who had a brother on the force. It got crazy for a while. They didn’t really have anything against me, I didn’t tell them everything, but they knew I had dealt. They wanted to pin some charges on me but they admitted there wasn’t much they could do.” Brody stood up and limped around the room, his fists clenching and unclenching.

“What happened next?”

Brody stilled with his hands on his hips, his lips thinner than normal. “The cops had me meet with the dealer. They busted him and his family. They took down his organization. He went to jail. His brother went to jail, and his sister too. Their mom died while they were on the inside. They vowed to kill me. Burned down my dad’s old house and everything. I was relocated to live here. I thought I was in the clear, but now I’m not sure. I think I fucked up.”

James absorbed the information. If a drug dealer was after Brody, it could get hairy. He had no qualms about shutting down a dealer, but he knew nothing about this guy Brody had connections to. There were different levels of drug dealers. The guys they took care of were scumbags. A low-level marijuana dealer wasn’t like a guy who traded people as well as smack. But Brody had said he’d dealt harder stuff.

Brody glanced back at him, his brows knit together, frown lines deep on his forehead. “Are you going to say anything?”

“I think we can help you.”

“You aren’t going to abandon me because of what I did?”

James rose moved to stand next to Brody, noticing that his chest heaved with each breath. James ran his hand down Brody’s back, wrapping his fingers around Brody’s waist. “No, no condemnation. I can kind of understand it. I don’t like that you were dealing.”

“I don’t like it either. I hated doing that. We were poor.”

“You weren’t doing that, dealing, before your dad got sick?”