OWEN DIDN’T want to let go of Mia anytime soon, even though she’d emptied the bottle he was still holding and had gone right back to sleep some time ago. Gallagher was sitting with them, trying to explain what he knew.
“It wasn’t money DuPree wanted,” he said, the disgust apparent in his voice. “Her sister was a heroin addict, and Damien kept her from going to prison. We don’t know the details yet, but the sister’s boyfriend—her pimp—died in a stabbing two years ago. He was found with a knife sticking out of him and looking up at a whole lotta nothing, as they say. We’re gathering evidence, but it’s our guess that the sister did it and Damien had proof.”
“He has files on dozens of people,” Owen agreed. “He would find things out and save them, sometimes for years, and I guess she was convinced I knew where the files on her sister were kept. I also think that’s why he took me. I think he was hoping my dad’s political aspirations might help him. I can write down the passcodes and let you know where everything is.”
Gallagher glanced at Lucas. “Keefer’s uncle has been arrested.”
Lucas nodded. Owen felt so bad for him. Jacko’s would be another funeral he wouldn’t be able to attend.
Gallagher stood up and looked at Owen. “Mark is well and is being kept in the hospital tonight, much to his disgust, because he’s missed his last three appointments. Being snowed in gave him a bit of a break, but people will only be patient for so long.”
Thinking of Mark’s work brought tears to Owen’s eyes. Bailey. Bailey had saved them from being taken by Jacko, and he had died for it, for them. Owen dreaded hearing Mia ask for B-bee. She had lost so much already in her short life.
“She’s asleep,” Lucas murmured, and Owen looked up. Gallagher had gone, and he hadn’t even noticed.
“Is it over?”
“Yes.” Lucas stood and walked toward them. He bent, and before Owen realized what he was going to do, he lifted both Owen and Mia into his arms.
“Your side,” Owen protested.
Lucas just brushed a kiss on his head, then turned and sank down onto the large armchair at the side of the bed. “It’s over.”
Owen just nodded and let his head fall back onto Lucas’s shoulder.
OWEN MUST have fallen asleep, because he woke up to the sound of someone speaking. For a panicked second, he missed Mia. Then he heard a voice and looked to his left. Lucas was standing at the window with Mia in his arms. Owen stilled as Mia lifted her tiny hand and touched Lucas’s cheek. Lucas bent and brushed a kiss on her forehead.
“Of course, there are lots of lady firefighters now, if that’s something you want to look into after college. You can be anything you want. Just don’t let your Uncle Mark try to bully you into becoming a doctor—even if he’s already putting some money aside for your college fund.”
Owen bit his lip to stop the noise trying to work its way free from his heart, but Lucas must have sensed it, because he turned and smiled, his eyes softening. He came over and brushed a kiss on Owen’s hair and sat down, propping his feet on the bed and settling Mia on his legs. He held both of her outstretched hands and made silly faces at her.
The door opened and a nurse popped her head in. “Would you like some breakfast, Mr. Michaels?”
Owen pulled a face, and the nurse chuckled and left. He rolled onto his side to watch Lucas and Mia.
“Good morning, Daddy,” Lucas said in a silly singsong voice and waved Mia’s hands. “Are you ready to go home?”
Owen’s breath caught. Home? Where was that? He didn’t have a home. Lucas raised his head when he didn’t answer. “And by home, I mean back to my house.”
“Your house?” Owen asked, not knowing how he felt. His head was still spinning from the last few hours—no, scratch that—from the last God knew how many months. Lucas’s gaze stayed on his, but he lifted Mia and stood up, then kissed the top of her head before giving her to Owen.
“I know you feel overwhelmed. Probably the same as I do, but your choices are a motel or my house. I obviously want you both there. But I understand if you want to go somewhere else for a while—even though I don’t like it,” he said with a reluctant smile. “I know you must feel that your choices are limited. You need to recover. We need to get to know each other—”
“When we’re not running for our lives,” Owen repeated the words from before.
Lucas bent down and cupped his cheek. “You’re already in my heart. I want you in my life and in my bed.” His smile twisted. “But we can start with you in the spare room. You’ve had enough choices forced upon you, Owen. I don’t intend to make me one more.”
Owen’s breath caught. He means it. He wanted Lucas, desperately wanted him, but something held him back.
There was a brief knock at the door, and the nurse came back in, holding the door open. Owen smiled widely as Mark appeared. “I have something for Mia,” he announced and wheeled himself through.
Owen sat up in complete amazement at what he was seeing. Mia took one look at the black Labrador curled up on Mark’s knees and giggled. “B-bee.” She held out her arms.
“But….” Owen was speechless.
“The ambulance brought them both in,” Lucas explained. “It was a close thing last night—Bailey had lost a lot of blood. But seeing as how Dr. Matthewson, who has surgical privileges here, has been desperate to get Mark to join his practice, they did a deal. The hospital saved Bailey’s life.”
Mark grinned and wheeled himself up to the bed. Lucas bent down and gently lifted Bailey onto the bed, where he sighed and curled up happily next to Mia, who immediately bent and smacked a kiss on his head and started playing with his ear. “He’s stoned because they gave him the good stuff when they found out what he had done.”
Owen blinked hard. “I can’t believe it.”
Lucas squeezed him. “And you can’t separate them.” Bailey licked Owen’s hand and closed his eyes.
“No,” he whispered and looked up at Lucas.
“And this is where I’m out of here,” Mark said. He held up his hand before Lucas could make any objection. “I’ve got a ride back to the cabin, but I’ve also got a Realtor, and she’s approaching Mr. Jacobson’s attorney about the end cottage.” He shrugged. “If I’m going to work in Greeley, I need to be closer.”
Lucas jumped off the chair and hugged his brother. “Call me and I’ll come up tomorrow.”
Mark nodded at the bed. “No rush. I think you might have your hands full for a few days.” He smiled at Owen and wheeled himself out.
“You ready to go home?” Lucas asked, turning and holding out his hand to Owen.
“Yes,” Owen said. Yes I am.
IT WAS another two days—days of quiet walks and even quieter dinners. Bailey was spoiled rotten even if he couldn’t join them on their walks yet. The only kisses had been casual pecks, and Owen couldn’t work out whether that was because Lucas wasn’t rushing him or he was regretting his impulsiveness in letting them stay here. They had slept in the same bed, though. Owen had drifted off, wrapped securely in Lucas’s arms, and he had loved every second of it. But there was no way today would be anything but complete shit. It was finally Jacko’s funeral, and Lucas couldn’t go. One more person Lucas couldn’t say goodbye to.
Captain Cassidy had been around to report that Christine had moved out and gone to live with her sister. Everyone at the firehouse was in shock. No one was supposed to know exactly what had happened, but there were enough rumors flying around. Jacko’s father, however—being the uptight bastard that Jacko had described—had made sure his other sons kept silent, so Lucas would never have any problems. Keefer had put in for retirement, and one of Jacko’s brothers had accepted a transfer and promotion to Vegas. His uncle had been arrested. The lower ranks of Malvetti’s organization were all singing like canaries, as the saying went.
They had gotten back from walking Bailey nearly two hours ago, and while Owen had fed and bathed Mia, Lucas had cooked. She fell asleep soon after she finished her milk, and he settled her in her new travel cot in the room he had used that first night.
It seemed like a lifetime ago.
Finally, knowing he had no other excuse not to go downstairs, he went down and walked into the kitchen. Lucas looked up from the oven and studied him. And suddenly, for no apparent reason other than sheer relief, Owen’s eyes filled.
Lucas threw down the dishcloth and hurried over. “Hey.” He hooked his finger under Owen’s chin and gently tilted his head so he was looking at him.
“I’m worried you won’t want us now we don’t need saving,” Owen blurted out, then cringed. Because he hadn’t planned to say that at all. He was thinking it, but he wasn’t going to say it. “Because you’re so good, and you—”
“And I’ve been telling myself the same thing,” Lucas admitted, wiping the moisture from under Owen’s eyes and pulling him in close, wrapping his arms around him.
“You have?” Owen nuzzled into him.
“That once you’re okay, you won’t need me,” he admitted. “I mean, not unless you’re planning on setting fire to anything.”
Owen smiled. Just knowing Lucas had had the same worries already made him feel better. “I’m worried that I’m depending on you too much. And that I need to stand on my own two feet.”
“Uh-huh,” Lucas nodded. “Because running for your life, being betrayed by law enforcement, getting trapped in a wildfire, reporting a crime when you knew it might cost you your life, turning your back on luxury and money because you didn’t like what it made you… isn’t standing on your own two feet?” He pulled Owen back in close and tucked his head under his chin. “For fuck’s sake, warn me when you truly decide to become independent.”
“Well, when you put it like that,” Owen mumbled, and he felt Lucas chuckle. He looked up, but he didn’t try and pull away. “I am so sorry about Jacko. I know today will be so very hard.”
Lucas rubbed a hand up his back. “I’m dreading talking to Christine.”
“Do you have to?” Owen was surprised.
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I mean, I killed him. Whatever he did, I was still the one who pulled the trigger. Gallagher had originally said that some details were secret until the grand jury indictment, but now that Malvetti’s dead, there won’t be one. I don’t know if she will get his pension. It’s a huge mess.”
“It’s not your mess, though. He tried to kill you.”
Lucas’s shoulders sagged. “I know. I didn’t want to believe it, but he was just that desperate.”
And Owen understood. Lucas had been in an impossible position, and he had chosen them. Chosen to do the right thing. And here Owen was, vacillating over whether he should be here or not. Lucas was everything he’d ever wanted in a guy. So what was holding him back?
Because you don’t think you’re enough for him. And that was it. The crux of the matter.
“What thought just went through your head?”
Owen swallowed. “Why do you ask?”
Lucas smiled. “Because you were sad.”
Owen blinked. Sad? “How—”
“You get a look in your eyes,” Lucas continued. “A look that says you’ve had enough. I saw it the first time at the park. When you were standing there, clutching Mia. It was like she was the only thing that was stopping you from completely giving up.”
Owen looked down. His throat was tight, burning in that way it did when everything was just too much. When he was a step away from giving in. When he had no idea why he was still fighting. He opened his mouth to say that a small part of him was still in that place of utter hopelessness. Only he didn’t.
Because Lucas’s warm lips were suddenly fastened over his, and everything—the nightmare of the past few years, the self-doubt, the fear, the constant wondering if he was good enough to keep himself safe, never mind someone else who depended on him for everything—was gone. And all that was left was the sensation of Lucas’s lips on his and the utter desperate need to feel nothing else.
And then, out of nowhere, his body woke up. Heat flowed through his veins. Sparks lit nerve endings. Lucas moaned slightly and deepened the kiss, feeling the way Owen suddenly responded. He was alive. Alive, and so very needy. He wound his arms around Lucas’s neck and pressed his body flush against him. He wanted to feel everything, everywhere, all at once. He’d gone from mildly warm to spontaneously combusting in a heartbeat.
Lucas wrenched his lips away. “I—are you hungry?”
He was ravenous. “Not for food.” And he started tugging at his clothes. Lucas grunted and lifted him off his feet. Lips bruised and fought. Hands seemed to be everywhere, which was good but not quite where he wanted them. Where he needed them. “Upstairs,” Owen begged. He wanted sheets, a bed. To be horizontal. He was desperate enough to be taken against the wall but knew he would regret it.
He took a small step back and clasped Lucas’s hand. “Dinner will wait, but I don’t think I can.”
Lucas’s hazel eyes darkened. His breath hitched and he inhaled. “Oh God.” And Owen smiled. This he could do. Lucas had always been the rescuer, but not this time. This time it was Owen.
“Come with me.” Owen threw one glance over his shoulder as they climbed the stairs, just to make sure he had Lucas’s attention—and he did. Lucas licked his lips as he followed him, and Owen felt amazing.
He led the way into Lucas’s bedroom and turned as soon as they were through the door. “Do you have protection?”
Lucas nodded to the bedside drawer, and Owen stepped in closer, his fingers pushing up Lucas’s sweatshirt.
Then it was Lucas’s turn to flush when Owen surprised him by brushing the front of Lucas’s chest and reaching for his nipples. Owen lifted his head in a silent entreaty, and Lucas made some answering noise and dipped his. Just a fraction. It was an intimate exchange of lips, so light and soft he wanted to never stop. They were so attuned to each other, and as one kiss slowly and seamlessly eased into another, he forgot everything except his burning desire for the man he held in his arms.
Owen moaned and pulled away. Lucas pressed his hand to Owen’s chest, spreading his fingers and just catching the tip of one nipple. Owen must have made some inarticulate noise because Lucas stilled for a second and then deliberately drew a circle around it with his fingernail. Goose bumps sprinkled across Owen’s skin, but it wasn’t because he was cold.
“You like that,” Lucas murmured. His voice was half full of wonder that something so simple could cause such a reaction, but Owen had a thing for nipple play. Giving and receiving. “Sensitive there, huh?” Lucas’s voice was full of mischief, and before Owen had a chance to think of a response, Lucas bent and lifted Owen in his arms, then deposited him gently on the bed.
“Caveman,” Owen teased, and Lucas leaned over him, tracing the same path his nail had made but with his tongue.
“Oh my God,” Owen gasped and shuddered at the amazing sensation. Lucas raised his head. “You would be beautiful with these pierced.”
Owen heard the low whine in the back of his throat. He’d never…. Or would he? Owen closed his eyes, awash with the sensations flowing over him.
“I could take them in my teeth,” Lucas continued, not seeming to care that Owen was fast losing his grip on the here and now. “Suck them between my lips. Roll them with my tongue. And just when you think it can’t get any better….” He pressed his nail right onto Owen’s hardened nub.
“No,” Owen pleaded and grasped Lucas’s wrist. And he hasn’t even touched my cock.
“Why no?” Lucas teased and slid his hand lower, down Owen’s abdomen.
“Oh,” Owen gasped and curled his fingers into fists.
Lucas let out a hum of satisfaction. “This isn’t about staying power. It’s just to make you, make us, feel good.”
“Both of us,” Owen insisted, not sure how or why he was still talking. But it was important.
Lucas cupped his balls, and Owen gritted his teeth. Those fingers carried on their slow and sensual exploration. Owen tried to reach Lucas, but he was sprawled over him. “Hush. Let me look after you.”
Owen moaned and fell back, every touch, every softly spoken word pulling him further and further under Lucas’s intoxicating spell. And when Lucas’s fingers curled around his length, he felt the answering pulse echo through his body. He turned his head, mutely begging for Lucas’s tongue, his lips, his taste. And even as he was offering another gentle surrender, Lucas surprised him again, covering his mouth and simply taking.
Every hesitation, every fear, every doubt, was gone in a maelstrom of spinning sensations, of whispered words and urgent touches. Lucas coaxed, and with a flick of his wrist, the cajoling turned into an urgent demand. Then with a whoosh of pleasure, the fire in his gut spilled over into Lucas’s hand.
He barely felt Lucas extricate himself and climb out of bed. Too many endorphins were winding their lazy way around his bloodstream, and he was floating along with them. He felt Lucas’s warmth immediately when he returned, though. Felt the soft breath and the touch of his lips against his.
“That was amazing,” Owen breathed.
Lucas leaned in. “That was just step one.”
Owen’s eyes opened. “Step one?” he teased.
“Uh-huh. There’s no hurry.”
Owen lifted his hand to cup Lucas’s cheek. “When you say there’s no hurry—”
“I mean we have the rest of our lives.”
Owen let the words settle in the room, settle in his heart. They felt so good, so right.
“I know you’re worried that Mia is the draw. That it’s about her, not you.”
Owen thought about that. “I guess you couldn’t separate us, anyway.”
“But like I said—”
“You don’t take in strays.” Owen grinned.