Just a Bit Heartless (Straight Guys 13)

It had been as much of a surprise to him as it had been for their parents. Damiano had kept quiet about his search for Jordan’s missing brother until after he found him in Dubai. Jordan had been so happy, of course—until he found out about Aiden’s fate: he’d been living in some rich sheikh’s household. Jordan had known that sex trafficking could be the reason for his brother’s disappearance: Aiden’s exquisite looks might have attracted the wrong sort of attention. But suspecting something and knowing were two different things.

“How is he?” Jordan said.

Eloise shrugged, her expression turning grimmer. “Putting on a happy face, but I can sense that something is off. I don’t think he’s as happy to be saved as he pretends to be.”

Jordan frowned. “He probably just needs time.”

“I don’t know,” his sister said. “It’s been months already. He isn’t getting better and he still refuses to talk or file charges against the sheikh. He claims that nothing happened, but I find it hard to believe. Maybe it’s some fucked-up Stockholm Syndrome.”

“Yeah,” Jordan said, but his attention was already drifting away as Damiano’s car rolled to a stop in the driveway.

“Your man certainly travels in style,” Eloise said, whistling. “Sweet ride. Though I could have done without dozens of bodyguards on the front lawn. They ruin the view.”

Jordan chuckled distractedly, watching Damiano emerge out of the car.

“One might think you haven’t seen him in days instead of half an hour,” his sister said, laughing. “Jesus, your heart-eyes are embarrassing for a grown man.”

“You’re just jealous,” Jordan said.

“I am,” she admitted with a grin. “Wish Paul made me look at him like this.”

Jordan felt his face become warm. He hated being this obvious, but he could never control his expressions when it came to Damiano. And truth be told, he didn’t try very hard. He knew Damiano loved the affection and the adoration—he greedily soaked it up, no matter what he might claim otherwise. So Jordan didn’t restrain himself. Damiano deserved all the love in the world.

“Eloise,” Damiano said, pecking her on the cheek.

Jordan beamed at him proudly. A year ago, Damiano would have never done such a thing.

He grabbed Damiano’s hand as soon as his sister let go of him and entwined their fingers together. “Well done,” he whispered, kissing him on the stubbled cheek and inhaling his masculine scent.

Damiano quirked a dark eyebrow. “I can pretend to be normal, you know.”

Jordan glared at him, gently stroking his coat lapel. “You’re normal,” he said, darting forward to steal a kiss. “Just the way you are. Pretending to be polite doesn’t make you normal—it just makes you seem less aloof, which is our aim.”

“Aye-aye, sir,” Damiano said with a wry, heart-stopping smile, and Jordan just had to steal another kiss. And then another. Mmm.

“I love you,” Jordan murmured against his lips.

Damiano pulled him closer and whispered, “I love you, too.” There was still a certain hesitance in his voice when he said it, as if he was getting away with something every time he said those words, as if he couldn’t possibly deserve to love and to be loved, and Jordan hugged him tightly and kissed him deeper, his heart so full with adoration and love that he was almost choking on it.

“Jesus, Jord, get a room!”

Grinning sheepishly, Jordan pulled back and looked at Damiano, who didn’t even glance at Eloise, his eyes only on Jordan, soft and glassy with want.

God, he loved him.

Cradling his stubbled cheek, Jordan stole another quick kiss, before heading toward his parents’ house, hand in hand with the man he loved.

The End