Restoration 01 - Getting It Right Page 13

  “Oh?” He covered Nathan’s clasped hands with his. “Do tell.”

  “Not that kind, pervert. I’m not going to be able to start back to work right away. What if I follow your mom for a few days? I’ll watch her when she goes out, so you can have peace of mind that she’s not being followed by Price.”

  James twisted around on the stool, rearranging them so Nathan stood between his knees, arms still around his waist. He studied Nathan’s earnest face, surprised and touched by the offer.

  “You want to go all PI on my mother to prove she’s seeing things?”

  “Yes.”

  “What if Price really is following her?”

  “Then it violates his parole. I checked when you told me he was being released. He has to stay away from your family. If he comes within thirty feet, he can go back to prison.”

  He belongs in prison. Rapists and child molesters don’t deserve a second chance.

  “I’m going to do this whether or not you say yes,” Nathan said. “You’ll be doing me a favor, giving me a project while I deal with shrink appointments and interviews.”

  “Okay.”

  Nathan grinned. The twin scars on his cheeks nearly disappeared into dimples when he smiled like that. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. Thank you.”

  “Believe me, I’m glad to do it. Anything to give you both peace of mind.” Nathan left him to rummage in a drawer by the sink. He returned with a pen and a notepad that said Grocery List on the top beneath a row of apples. One pen of dozens he’d tossed in that drawer over the years.

  Why did everyone hand out pens at conferences and lectures? James drew the line at carrying business cards.

  “Your mom still works at the bank, right?” Nathan asked.

  “Yep, eight thirty to five thirty, Monday through Thursday. She trades off every other Friday and Saturday. She’s off today, so she’ll work next Saturday.”

  Nathan scribbled on the pad, ever the detective. “She’ll be safe enough at work. Even if Price is following her, and I won’t assume he is, I can’t imagine he’s stupid enough to go someplace with exterior surveillance. What are her routines like? When does she go grocery shopping?”

  “Twice a week. She loves bananas, but only really likes them when they’re still pretty green, so she shops small. Sundays after church, which usually ends around one, and Thursday nights after work.”

  “She still goes to the Lutheran church in her neighborhood, right?”

  “Yes.” James loved all of the small details that Nathan had gleaned over the years and actually remembered. “But she always shops at the Food Lion out on old Route 13.”

  Scribble. “What about social outings? Friends? Weekly card games? Anything?”

  James tried to imagine his reticent, homebody of a mother having an active social life, but his imagination wasn’t that good. “Not that she tells me about. She has bible study at the church on Wednesday nights. Once in a while I hear about her going to Kohl’s for some new shoes or something, but not too often. She stopped being a real person after Laurie died.”

  Nathan glanced up, eyebrows furrowed. “A real person?”

  “She exists, Nate, but she doesn’t live. Not really. She sits home alone at night, and she eats alone most nights too. She hasn’t dated anyone since Price, even though she’s still pretty attractive. I swear, she’d have died with Laurie if she’d been strong enough. Even when we talk, it doesn’t feel real. It’s been worse since Price got out. If she isn’t obsessing over him, she’s sobbing over Laurie, and Laurie’s been gone for eighteen years.”

  “She lost a child, Jay.”

  “And I lost my baby sister, but I don’t sit down and cry over it every night.”

  “No, you get so drunk you don’t remember coming on to your best friend the next day.”

  Nathan spoke with humor in his voice, but the words were direct, fierce. And they stung.

  “Everyone reacts to grief differently. You of all people should know that.”

  “Knowing it and living it are two different things.”

  Nathan glanced at the garbage bags of empties meant for recycling. “Can I ask you something?”

  You wanted to be honest, asshole. Don’t say no. “Go for it.”

  “In the four months that I’ve been away, how often did you drink?”

  James kept his expression neutral, which was probably a dead giveaway. Nathan knew him too well. “Drink or get drunk?”

  “Drink.”

  “Most nights, usually a shot or two to help me sleep. After what happened with Ezra, I made it a personal rule to only get shit-faced in the comfort of my or a friend’s home.”

  Nathan pushed the notepad away and ran his fingers through his longish hair. “You had the shittiest of weekends back then, didn’t you? Price, Ezra, Doug, me. I’m sorry.”

  “None of it was your fault.”

  “Going out looking for leads without backup was my fault. I made myself a target.”

  “You had no idea some fucknut was out there stalking you. How could you have known that?”

  “I was investigating a murder. I should have taken more care.”

  “And I should have told the truth on that parking garage roof, and then maybe we’d have gone back to my place and talked, and you never would have been out on Fourth that night. Too many what if’s, babe. Stop it.”

  “Sorry. I think my brain is wired to revisit scenarios over and over again. Probably a side effect of being a police officer for over a decade.”

  “You can’t turn off the cop any more than I can turn off the therapist.”

  Amusement danced in Nathan’s eyes. “Maybe not, but I bet I can turn on the therapist.”

  James laughed. He’d set himself up for that one. “You definitely do that. Hopefully I turn on the cop too.”

  “Oh you do.”

  You turn on the wounded, recovering cop everyone thinks is straight. Who considered himself straight up until a few months ago.

  Nothing about their professions had changed with their declarations. Nathan had worked hard for his career, and being a gay cop wasn’t easy in any city. The last thing James wanted was for this thing between them to hurt Nathan’s position within the police department. He no longer thought Nathan’s feelings were fleeting or anything other than genuine, but that didn’t change his job reality.

  “Jay?” Nathan’s hand covered his. “What’s wrong? You went from flirty to constipated in point-two seconds.”

  James turned his hand so they were palm to palm, then squeezed. “Can I ask you

  something really personal?”

  “I don’t know, can you?”

  He flipped Nathan off with his free hand. “May I?”

  “Of course. Anything.”

  “Have you been attracted to other men besides me?” The question was incredibly

  arrogant, but it had to be asked. Nathan hadn’t actually answered him on the “are you gay” topic, and James had to know if this was about him, or about Nathan finally being honest with himself.

  “No. Not that I was ever consciously aware of, anyway. I never really paid overt attention to other men, except to occasionally admire a nice set of abs or something. Not the way I paid attention to women. Or to you.” He ducked his head, cheeks pinking. “I paid attention even before that Truth or Dare kiss, and I really paid attention afterward, until I convinced myself it was my imagination and tucked it all away.”

  “It would have been difficult for you, going into the police academy and being with a man.”

  “It’s not going to be easy now.”

  “No, but now you have an exemplary career, and you’re a detective. You’re not a rookie still finding his feet.”

  “But we missed so many years, Jay.”

  “Maybe we did. Who’s to say it would have worked out if you’d admitted how you felt all those years ago? We don’t know. Maybe we both needed to be who we are now. And this is our time.”

  “Mayb
e.”

  James tugged, and Nathan melted into his arms. Rested his chin on James’s shoulder.

  James memorized the shape and heat of the man in his arms. Every muscle and curve and plane.

  The way his heart beat at an unsteady rate. The way his fingers pressed into the bare skin of James’s back. Every inch of Nathan was precious and irreplaceable.

  “I love you,” James whispered.

  Nathan hugged him tighter, but he still didn’t say it back.

  Nate woke from a light doze to the bell-like tone of his cell phone ringing from a great distance.

  He blinked at the open bedroom door, pretty sure he’d left his phone on the kitchen counter. The heavy body draped over him snuffled once, then clutched him tighter when he tried to slither out from beneath. James muttered something that sounded like “not letting you go again.”

  The possessiveness made Nate smile against his flattened pillow. He had no intention of leaving James like that, not again, but he did need to answer his phone. It might be work.

  He managed to slide out from beneath James, who curled around his abandoned pillow, still asleep. The picture was pretty adorable. Vulnerable.

  “I love you.”

  James hadn’t been afraid to say it. Nate could express his feelings a thousand other ways—with different words and with his actions—but he couldn’t get those three words to come out that way. As a declaration and a commitment. Something was holding him back, and he couldn’t pin it down.

  Soon. He’d only just come back to town and completely upended what he believed about himself and his life. He had to walk before he could run.

  Nate padded naked into the kitchen and stole a glance at the couch. After eating their fill of takeout, they’d retreated to the couch to watch a movie, which had turned into making out. All that kissing naturally ended up with both of them in bed, sucking each other off.

  God, Nate didn’t think he’d ever get tired of James’s cock in his mouth. He was addicted.

  The phone went silent before Nate could get to it. Missed call from Elliott. On his phone, not James’s. Curious, he called back.

  “Hey, honey!” Elliott’s genuine joy killed any lingering sense of jealousy. The last time he’d seen Elliott, he had been so broken.

  “Hey, Ell, what’s up?”

  “Listen, I know you just got back in town, but everyone knows you’re home and we all want to see you, so I was hoping to get a group together to hit up Pot O Gold tonight to celebrate your return to the fold, and I know James could use a night out because he’s practically become a monk since you left, and I really hope you two got over whatever was coming between you and are friends again.”

  Had that all been one breath? He didn’t know Elliott well enough to know if that was excitement, too much caffeine or some kind of chemically induced high. “James and I are great, actually. Better than great.”

  “Fantastic! So you guys will come out? Meet us at the Pot at nine thirty?”

  Going out to a crowded club wasn’t at the top of his To Do list for the day—he’d much rather stay in with James—but he did miss his other friends. He wanted to see them. To prove to them that he wasn’t broken. That he was all right, scars and all. And there was no sense in putting off telling the world about him and James being together.

  “Yeah, we’ll be there,” Nate said.

  Elliott squealed. “Yes! Okay, look pretty, honey, and I’ll see you in a few hours.”

  Nate put his phone down, a little dazed.

  “We’ll be where?”

  “Shit.” Nate spun around, heart pounding. He loosened his fists, because it was only James. James standing naked in his bedroom doorway, face adorably sleep rumpled. “We’re meeting Elliott and the others at the Pot at nine thirty for a welcome-home gathering.”

  James obliterated the space between them and draped his arms loosely around Nate’s waist. “You sure you’re okay with that?”

  “As long as you’re with me, I can do this.”

  “So we’re going together? As in really together?”

  “Yes.” Anxiety tripped his heart. “Is that okay?”

  James grinned. “More than okay, babe. I’m happy to go out there and show the world that you’re mine.”

  The idea of belonging to James was both thrilling and confusing. His entire world had changed in the course of a day, and he still wasn’t entirely sure it was real. “Even though I’m a scarred-up mess?”

  The grin disappeared. Warm hands cupped Nate’s cheeks. James’s hazel eyes burned with something that sent shivers down Nate’s spine. “Nathan Francis Wolf, you might look in the mirror and see a scarred-up mess, but I look at you and I see the guy who taught me how to change my first flat tire when I was twenty. I see the guy who kept me in coffee and sandwiches while I stayed up for two days straight studying for my finals. I see you, Nate. And I know you’ve still got healing to do, and I’m with you. Every step of the way.”

  If Nate had been able to physically melt into a puddle of goo, he’d have done so. The sweet, comforting words were exactly what he needed to hear. And he’d probably need to hear them again, maybe more than once, before he truly believed them. James had been his strength for fifteen years. He couldn’t imagine moving forward without James in his life. That they were together now was a bonus feature.

  “Thank you,” Nate said.

  “You don’t have to thank me, but you’re welcome.” He glanced over Nate’s shoulder.

  “We’ve got a few hours to kill before meeting up. Whatever shall we do with our time?”

  Nate leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to James’s mouth. “As much as I would love to spend it naked in bed with you, we need to get this trash downstairs. This place is still half a mess with all the garbage bags strewn around. And I need to go grocery shopping. My fridge at home is empty.”

  James grunted. “Chores. Exciting.”

  “I’m actually looking forward to doing the mundane things like grocery shopping and vacuuming again. It’s funny the little things you miss when you spend a month flat on your back while broken ribs heal.”

  “Right. I didn’t think about it that way.”

  “Good, because I don’t want to think about you hurt like that ever.”

  James slid one hand from his cheek to grip the back of his neck. “I hate that you were hurt like that. I want to find who hurt you and snap his fucking neck.”

  The violence in his voice startled Nate. “I know. You can do that right after I smash in their ribs with a tire iron.”

  “Deal.”

  An impossible deal, because his case was cold. The van had probably landed in a chop shop right after, obliterating the crime scene and any evidence of the van’s driver. Four months was a long time to hope for a break in the case, and Nate was slowly learning to accept that he might never know who’d hurt him or why. He wasn’t okay with it, but he was pretty sure he could live with it.

  Maybe.

  Chapter Twelve

  James tried hard not to tap his feet while he waited for Nathan to get dressed. After several hours of cleaning, shopping and a quick dinner at a local diner, they’d returned to Nathan’s duplex.

  The bulk of their groceries had been coffee, half-and-half, sugar and stacks of frozen dinners.

  They’d also gotten a gallon of milk and protein powder. Nathan said it was to help him get some muscle tone back. James had tossed a package of Oreos into the cart because they were Nathan’s favorite.

  Then Nathan went to change, while James hung out in the living room. On the couch where he’d blacked out his second kiss with Nathan, during yet another drunken self-pity session. Social drinking was one thing. Getting drunk once in a while was one thing. Tying one on so tight he didn’t remember losing control of himself was another animal entirely. How soon before he did something truly horrible that he couldn’t fix later?

  He really needed to stop drinking.

  After tonight. Tonight they were celebr
ating. He’d simply moderate with water.

  A few minutes after nine, his cell buzzed with a text from Elliott: U 2 still coming, yeah?

  Yeah, heading over in a few.

  Excellent. TTYS!

  He made a mental note to corner Elliott at some point tonight and clarify last night’s activities. He really hoped Elliott remembered what they had or hadn’t done.

  Nathan’s bedroom door finally swung open, ejecting a somewhat glum Nathan. His black jeans were slightly loose on his hips, cinched up with a smart leather belt. He’d tucked a red Tshirt into the jeans, not quite skin-tight, but sexy. James liked the look. Hot without advertising too much.

  “What’s wrong, babe?” James asked. He stood but didn’t walk over.

  Nathan came to him, hands in his pockets. “I couldn’t find anything that fit right.”

  “It looks fantastic to me.”

  He shrugged. Nathan had never been a vain guy, never seemed overtly interested in how other people saw him—until he’d been attacked, and now he seemed convinced that people only saw his flaws. The scars. The weight loss. Hell.

  “You look great, Nate, I promise you. And who exactly are you trying to impress?”

  James chucked him lightly on the chin. “You already caught me.”

  Some of the doubt cleared. “You’re right.”

  “Oooh, say it again.”

  Nathan poked him in the ribs. “Jerk.”

  “I know you are, but what am I?”

  He laughed, everything about Nathan perked up. “You are such a ten-year-old

  sometimes, you know that?”

  “It makes you laugh, though, and that’s what matters.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Anytime. You have your wallet and phone?”

  Nathan patted his rear pocket. “Yes, dear.”

  “Smartass.”

  “You started it.”

  James bit his lower lip and held back the teasing words he so wanted to say. He wanted to start a lot of things with Nathan, and all of them would prevent them from meeting up with their friends. He wanted to be selfish with Nathan’s time, keep him wrapped up tight in his arms so no psychopaths could ever hurt him again, but that was unreasonable.