“I’ll remember to mark the day I don’t see a frown,” Kreed added dryly.
Aaron shook his head. “I just have a lot going on. It’s easier to be at home right now.”
Aaron could be a politician with that answer. What did that even mean? Every answer the kid gave ended with him wanting to be at home right now. He had a single-minded focus. Though that seemed to be Kreed’s problem at the moment too.
“It’s cool,” Kreed said, still unable to do much more than watch Stuart closely. Aaron’s face lost that angry look he usually had, smoothing out in that brief exchange, his hair perfectly combed in the new style. His lips seemed fuller right now, more kissable, and, God, that’s exactly what Kreed really wanted to do—kiss Aaron. No matter the desire coursing through him, Kreed forced himself to not move a muscle in Aaron’s direction.
“It’s the holidays too. It’s a tough time to be pulled away. We’ll get this wrapped up and get you home soon,” Kreed added, hoping to keep Aaron talking.
“It’s work right now, not the holidays. I bailed on the family early this year,” Aaron said absently, almost like they were about to have a real conversation.
“You and the family close?” Kreed asked.
Aaron was silent several long minutes. Okay, maybe he’d been wrong about the conversation. The plane accelerated then lifted in the air before the kid finally responded.
“It was my first Christmas at home in more years than I could count. I know it seems selfish, especially when you had to leave your parents at such a difficult time. I’m sorry about all that,” Aaron finally said. Strangely, the words felt deeply sincere and provided a welcomed comfort to his heart.
“Nah, I get it. I ducked out on the holidays all the time. Besides, my family’s not as big as yours.”
“I don’t wanna talk about them.” Aaron shook his head and let out a sigh. He studied his hands in his lap. After a minute, Aaron’s gaze lifted and connected again with Kreed’s. Unexpected emotion swam in those depths, drawing him in. Kreed stared back, the connection held meaning, but he had no idea what. “It’s pretty cool how you get on flights though.”
Aaron’s voice was smaller right then. Kreed didn’t let up on the intensity of his stare, but accepted the change of topic. “I’d like to think it was me, but it’s the deputy marshal deal. Airlines let us ride all the time. It makes them feel safer.”
“So you have your weapon on right now?” Aaron asked.
“Always,” Kreed answered. He never looked away, but lowered his brow, teasing. “Why? Does that turn you on?”
“And nobody checked you?” Aaron seemed content to ignore Kreed’s clearly one-track mind. Whatever kind of moment they were sharing had moved on, replaced by a look of shock.
“Not this time. It depends really. They’re supposed to, but around DC they get used to people. Mitch helps the security agents remember me. Besides, they’d let us on armed regardless, so it’s just a formality.”
“I think you’re pretty memorable on your own,” Aaron confessed quietly.
Kreed tried to contain his smile at that comment and knew he’d failed when he felt his lips twitch upward. He’d almost gotten a compliment. Aaron turned away and reclined his seat, reaching for the earbuds that hung from his neck. He pushed one then the other inside his ears. Kreed figured there was a never-ending supply of entertainment coming from those headphones, because they were always Aaron’s go-to device to end a conversation. He watched as Aaron leaned back and closed his eyes, effectively shutting down any further discussion. Kreed reached for the Sky Magazine and started thumbing through the pages. He’d just been given a compliment and effectively put in his place all in one fell swoop. That about summed up every single interaction he’d had with the kid so far.
Chapter 9
“It’s fucking Texas, Cody. I thought it was some sort of state law that it has to be warm all the time,” Mitch complained, pulling the rental car into Colt and Jace’s Preston Hollow home—or estate, depending on who spoke about the house. Mitch gave Colt shit about the size of the house and the area he and his partner lived in before always closing the argument with a win by bringing up President Bush’s doorbell only being a few doors down.
“I told you not to wear shorts. It’s Dallas. It gets cold up here,” Cody shot back, releasing his seatbelt. Mitch put the car in park, leaned over the console toward the passenger seat, and pulled Cody to him.
“It always makes me smile when you refer to anything in Texas being ‘up,’” he teased, making air quotes with his fingers. He puckered his lips. Cody had to lean in the rest of the way to kiss him. Without looking, Mitch reached over and turned off the ignition. He kept his gaze on Cody, dropping an arm behind the seat’s headrest. Cody wasn’t more than a couple of months post-op after taking a bullet to his shoulder. He’d gotten lucky. Actually really lucky, becoming the newest poster boy for Apple products when his iPhone took the second bullet aimed point blank at his chest. Even now, it was a sobering thought and Mitch warred with himself to keep his mood even. Being back in Dallas, in this particular home, had the potential to increase all of their risk, and the panic of this situation left him unsettled. Mitch would have to be on his A-plus game; he couldn’t have Cody in any more danger. He searched Cody’s eyes before he spoke. “You sure you’re good with this? I know it doesn’t seem like it, but I can step back and take you somewhere far away from all of this. We could hit a Caribbean island where I could wear these shorts and not freeze my ass off.”
There was a pause as Cody searched his face. Mitch knew Cody was nervous. How could he not be? But he could almost see his brave state trooper boyfriend mentally pulling on his big boy Superman Underoos. Mitch needed to do that too. A smile slowly spread across Cody’s handsome face. “Are you tryin’ to get me out of the country because you wanna marry me?”