Rafa looked down at his bowl, his ears getting hot. “Really? That’s nice to hear. And you guys have always been cool. But man, I can’t wait until I can go out by myself. I have a huge list of stuff to do in Australia. Hiking and swimming, and finally learning how to surf.” He realized he was grinning like a fool just thinking about the freedom. “Anyway. Sorry, I’m talking your ear off.”
“I don’t mind. Makes the night shift a lot more interesting.” Shane checked his watch again. “I really should get back, though. Thanks for this. Nice to have a home-cooked meal for a change. You really are very good at it.”
“Your wife doesn’t cook?” He went for a casual air and failed miserably.
Shane brought his bowl and cutlery to the sink. “No wife. I’m gay. No husband either. With the job, I tend to work long hours and travel at a moment’s notice. Not conducive to serious relationships.” As if he’d said too much, he quickly backed away. “Thanks again.”
Oh. My. God. Did he just say he’s gay? And single? Am I dead? Am I in heaven? “Um…yeah. Good. Great. I mean, you’re welcome.” His brain buzzed. Get it together! Say something! “Oh, what about tomorrow? I have so many things to try. Please? You’d be doing me a big favor.”
Fiddling with his sleeves, Shane didn’t look at him. “I’ll try. You did really good work tonight. Thank you.”
With that, he disappeared into the little corridor, and Rafa listened to his quiet steps until there was only silence once more.
“Holy shit.”
His mind replayed the last minute in his mind, and yep, Shane had said it. He’d said he was gay. And he’d said it like it was nothing. Even though lots of people supported LGBT rights nowadays…it still wasn’t nothing. At least not to Rafa. There were a lot of people who still thought it was wrong, and even though he knew it wasn’t…the idea of saying it so easily was boggling. He wondered if it would ever be so simple for him.
Wow. Shane was gay. His wet dream fantasy man was actually gay too. Shane had undoubtedly had sex with men. Like, for real. It had happened. A lot. Images flashed through Rafa’s mind, and blood rushed south.
Grinning, he hurried with finishing the dishes so he could go back to his room. There was nothing wrong with fantasies, right? Didn’t hurt anyone. Rafa reminded himself that Shane was only being nice, but he may have even whistled as he worked.
Chapter Six
“Hey, Kendrick.” Harris nodded as Shane reached the top of the stairs on the main floor. His detail partner, Raul Guzman, nodded as well.
“Anything to report?” Shane asked.
“Nope,” Guzman replied. He ran a hand over his short black hair and whistled softly. “This kid is boring as hell.”
Harris smirked. “You’d rather be flying to Vegas with no toothbrush and just the clothes on your back?”
Guzman held up his hands. “You’re right. After his sister’s detail, I shouldn’t complain. You know the story, Kendrick?”
“I’ve heard bits and pieces.”
Guzman shook his head. “Ten o’clock at night, almost time for a shift change. Virtue up and jumps in her car and heads to the airport. No notice, no nothing. We’re scrambling to make sure we can keep her secure at the terminal. And of course we have to go with her to Vegas. It was my wife’s birthday the next day. I didn’t get home until three days later.”
“The glamorous life of the Secret Service,” Harris said. “Travel at a moment’s notice, unpaid overtime, and not enough money to deal with the bullshit. Especially now that they’ve slashed our benefits. Land of the free, and home of the overworked and underpaid.”
Shane wondered when Harris had started getting bitter. Would that be him in ten years?
“All right, we’ll leave you to it, Kendrick. Haven’t heard a peep from the mouse. Have a good one.” Guzman gave Shane’s arm a slap, and he and Harris disappeared downstairs.
Shane sat in the wooden chair in the corner and wondered what Rafa had made for him to taste. The kid really did seem to have a flair for food, although Shane had admittedly never had a picky palate. Still, he found himself looking forward to it. Which he really shouldn’t have been, since it wasn’t in his job description to be Rafa’s guinea pig in the first place. But what harm did it do if Rafa was safe?
Besides, it wasn’t a bad way to spend some of the long hours of the night shift. There was no rule that said an agent couldn’t enjoy him or herself sometimes. He’d spent plenty of pleasant hours on the ranch in Montana protecting former president Hamilton. Fortunately, the biggest threat there had been a gopher hole the former first lady had stepped in, leading to a badly twisted ankle.