Tough Luck (A-List Security 1)

“You never got around to showing me how to drive.” Standing, Danny stretched like even his bones were over this day.

“We were a bit preoccupied,” I joked as I headed to the kitchen, but he didn’t laugh. “And I still can teach you. LA has plenty of parking lots good for practice.”

“Yeah.” He watched as I took out bread and cheese. I was a little tired of grilled cheese, but anything to make him smile again.

“You want me to call Duncan after we eat, or do you want to be the one to tell him the good news?”

“You can.” He lounged against the counter. “Thanks for making food.”

“You can help. We need a vegetable.” And I needed him distracted. Work seemed like a decent bet to get him out of his own head.

“Okay.” He retrieved a bag of carrots from the fridge. “I like these better cooked.”

“We can do that.” I talked him through getting a pot and a metal steamer basket situated. “Probably good that we’re using up the cheese and carrots tonight. Remind me in the morning to make sure the fridge is empty. We can’t leave anything to rot.”

“I’ll remind you.” He studied the short row of spice jars near the stove. “And we need to bring in the laundry. Can’t leave all the sheets flapping in the breeze.”

Encouraged by his small smile, I laughed. “We can do that after dinner.”

“Heck. You never even got to try the outdoor tub.” He gestured in the direction of the kitchen window.

“I’ll live.” I started to chuckle, but he looked so small and lost that I abandoned the sandwiches in the skillet and turned to pull him against me. “Hey. Danny. Look at me.” I captured his chin in my hands. “If you truly hate being back in LA, I’ll talk to Harley, okay? I’ll see if I can bring you back here.”

He nodded sharply. I’d promise Harley any number of favors and free labor to get Danny smiling again.

“This doesn’t have to be a forever and ever goodbye. Harley’s a good guy. He’ll let us come back, especially after he sees the porch.”

“We did do good work.” Exhaling hard, he wrapped his arms around me and buried his face in my neck.

“Yup.” I kissed his head, drinking in the familiar scent of his hair. He wasn’t the only one with big feelings about leaving, but I couldn’t voice mine, couldn’t be the boat anchor keeping him from what needed doing. He needed me to encourage him, make the leaving more bearable, and me adding to the sentimental stew would be the opposite of that.

“Thanks.” He huffed against my neck, making me shiver even before he kissed me there. I would have been game for more kisses, but then he laughed and shoved me back toward the stove. “Better rescue the sandwiches.”

“Cheese over kissing. I see how it is.” I waved the spatula at him before flipping the sandwiches in the nick of time. He smiled, and dinner was, if not fun, at least not so somber. I got a few more laughs out of him as we fetched the laundry and folded the sheets.

“Yoga time,” I declared as we stowed the last towel in the linen cupboard. His mood seemed lighter, but I was still concerned enough to volunteer myself for his nightly ritual. I could make myself a pretzel for twenty minutes if it quieted whatever was churning in his head.

“Okay.” He found a video labeled for sad moods, confirming my hunch that he was still feeling conflicted about leaving. I could only hope the yoga would work better than my teasing, and I applied myself extra diligently to the routine, like that would earn extra peace for him.

I let the music fade completely out after the meditation time before I rolled toward him and gently brushed his hair off his forehead. “Doing better?”

“Yeah.” He yawned big, which seemed genuine, not faked. “I actually think I’m tired enough to sleep. Going to head to bed.”

“All right.” I stayed on the floor as he slowly hauled himself up and plodded toward the loft. “Do you want me to sleep down here?”

Pausing at the ladder, he turned back to me and shook his head. “No. I’m not sure what I’m up for, but I like you close.”

“I like me close too.” I followed him upstairs, and strangely, this meant more than had we fucked, him drawing comfort from my presence and trusting me to not push him for sex. He snuggled in against me, head on my chest, hand on my shoulder. Holding him felt so fucking natural, and I had no clue how I would ever let him go.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Danny

The mountains kept growing smaller and smaller behind us, and each mile pulled my mood even lower. For Cash’s sake, I was trying to be less pouty that morning. Despite the early hour, his alarm had buzzed. I’d helped him pack up and made us both big travel mugs of coffee without complaint. And somehow, I’d managed to not get too emotional as we flipped off the generator and checked all the locks. Sad to say, but the little cabin felt more like home than any place I’d actually lived in, and it felt like I was leaving something vital behind.