Marie Harte - Fortune's Favor

“Tonight?”

“Yeah, yeah. Tonight. And maybe tomorrow. And we’ll plan on Wednesday too. Jesus, do you need me to write it down on a calendar to agree? Or can you just say yes and offer me some damn comfort!”

Avery chuckled and hugged Nathan close. He loved that they were near enough in height to stand cheek to cheek. “Okay, okay. I’ll stay. But you’re actually going to have to move your shit in here. No way I’m living voluntarily in a condo.”

“Who would have guessed you’re such a snob?” Nathan leaned back to look around him and gave a mock shudder. “Especially with this décor?”

Avery squeezed him tighter. “And no messes. I could barely handle your dirty clothes in those hotel rooms. You live here, you clean up after yourself.”

Nathan’s smile faded. “When you say live here, you mean just for now, right?”

Keeping up with Nathan’s moods was impossible. Did he want permanence or didn’t he? But Avery didn’t want to push. “Nathan, I mean whatever you want me to mean. We’ll take it slow, okay? I want this threat away from you before I have to deal with your sorry ass on a day-to-day basis.”

And that quickly, the spark of nervousness vanished. “Sorry ass? You mean tight, delectable, fuckable ass. You’re the sorry one. That attitude, that couch, those clothes. Really.” Nathan continued to taunt him, so Avery gave him what he needed.

Another sound thrashing, some mind-blowing sex, and the love Nathan craved but wouldn’t admit to needing.

Nathan was dying to know what Avery really thought of them living together. For a solid week, they’d occupied the same house, the same kitchen, the same bed… Jack kept them on the night shift, where Chloe continued to boss them around.

To Nathan’s relief, Avery remained just as surly and obnoxious as he normally was. At the gym he continued to try to put Nathan in his place. And when they exercised together downstairs, Avery didn’t let up on him. The big man tossed him around like a rag doll, constantly barking at him to “man the fuck up and fight back.” Nathan liked the consistency. He’d worried Avery might change, the way his lovers normally did. But Avery didn’t cater to Nathan. If anything, he demanded Nathan see to his whims and his moods.

Nathan hated to admit he liked doing what Avery ordered. Especially at home in the bedroom. Their bedroom. It gave him goose bumps to consider it not Avery’s, but theirs. Avery hadn’t said anything about Nathan moving out. He sighed a lot and stared at the mounds of clothes that popped up all over the place, but other than throwing them at Nathan, he didn’t complain. And he seemed to love Nathan’s cooking.

His mother, Danielle, had taught him how to cook, but it had never satisfied him the way it did now, cooking for Avery.

They still fucked like crazy, but Nathan thought their lovemaking had begun to grow more tender, softer. He saw Avery looking at him sometimes, with that dark intensity that stole his breath away. The way the man would kiss him, caress him, with more than his mouth and hands, but with a real loving touch, made him want to believe he might have a shot at a real relationship.

He knew he wasn’t crazy. Though Avery hadn’t said it, Nathan thought he might more than like Nathan. Maybe not love, not yet, but there was certainly more than infatuation on both their parts.

“Christ, Nathan. What the hell did you track into the living room?”

“It’s called snow.”

“It’s called mud, dumb-ass. Next time, wipe your feet.”

The domesticity of their arrangement delighted Nathan to no end. He’d never lived with a man before. He could never have imagined he’d like it so much. He and Avery really complemented each other. Both were morning people after a cup of coffee. Avery was organized while Nathan…was not. They both loved physical fitness, Jeopardy, and sex. Loved the sex, no two ways about it. And to his satisfaction, Avery liked having it a lot.

Boredom hadn’t set in, and Nathan didn’t think it would. He’d been fascinated with Avery for far too long. And now he knew why. Avery hid a big heart beneath that gruff exterior. So generous, the way he always made sure Nathan had breakfast in the morning, the way he protected him and saw to it that Nathan had a full meal before he did.

“If you’re done playing house, Nancy, we need to talk.”

Yeah, the guy had a big heart buried way deep beneath that thick skull and dense mass of muscle where his heart should be.

Nathan put down the dishrag he’d been holding. He considered it a major feat he hadn’t chucked it at Avery’s head. “Yes, oh lord and master?”

“If only.” Avery sighed. “Look, you’re going to be pissed at me, but I have to tell you.”

Nathan tensed. Or course the other shoe had to drop. Life with Avery could never be this good. Had he fucked Diane after all? Could he not tolerate Nathan’s habits any longer, even though he’d sworn he liked Nathan’s quirks—well, most of them?

“Relax.” Avery rolled his eyes. “I’m not going to shoot you. Come on, sit down.”

“Just say it already.” He mentally prepared himself to leave and sat across from Avery at the kitchen table. He’d been ready. Every time he got comfortable, someone died or something changed. And with Dixon still on the loose, it made sense for Nathan to go his own way—

Fingers snapping in front of his nose took him aback.

“Good. Now that I have your attention.” Avery leaned closer to him. “Malcolm Dixon is here in Bend. We don’t know where, but we can feel him. And by we, I mean me, Ian, Jack, a bunch of us. But the fucker is good. We can’t find him. Not yet.”

Nathan frowned. “I know this already. Hell, I’ve felt him watching me since I got back. Is that all you had to tell me?”

Avery blew out a breath. “No.”

“I knew it.” Nathan fumed. “You’re fucking around, aren’t you?”

Avery blinked. “When the hell would I have had time? That’s what you think this is about?”

Nathan felt stupid. “Okay, no.” But relief made him light-headed. Of course Avery wouldn’t fuck around. That wasn’t his style. Avery would tell Nathan to his face it was over, because that was the way Avery worked. Straight up, no chaser, in-your-face—the Holton way.

“It’s about Malcolm.”

Nathan went on alert.

“I had a vision when we were in that hotel outside Fort Collins.”

“You didn’t tell me?”

“I didn’t want to worry you.”

He was hurt and pissed off that he’d been so dismissed. “You don’t think I have a right to know everything about this case? That asshole killed my mother! He nearly killed me!”

“I know, I know.” Avery pinched the bridge of his nose. “Look, hear me out. When we left for Bloomville, you were a mess. Getting drunk all the time, trying to screw your way through too many twinks, you name it.”

He deserved the hard look Avery sent him.

“Then you started to come around. I mean, your mother died. I still don’t think you’ve fully dealt with it.”

He hadn’t.

“But you’re holding it together. You’re strong. That’s what I admire about you.”

Warmth filled him, and he had to remind himself to be annoyed. “But…?”

“But the vision I had, it gave me some insight into you and your uncle.” Avery swallowed hard.

Christ. What the hell did he know? “Avery, just tell me.”

“I had Noah look into your uncle. Had him go over the scene where Danielle died.”

“Why?” His palms felt clammy, and Nathan wiped them on his jeans.

“I know why Danielle gave you away,” Avery answered. “I know why she never told you the truth.”