All Kinds of Tied Down (Marshals 1)

He barked at Holley and Drake to help him and then pulled the matches from his pack. Bending over, he did the blowing and cupping his hands around the flame and tried to get something going, but the wood was too wet.

“Maybe there’s some dryer wood under the debris piles,” Drake suggested.

“Not with the rain,” Holley assured him.

“I’m so cold,” Cabot whispered.

“Drake, you need to get his jacket off and get him in yours with you.”

“I can do that,” Jenner barked at Ian.

“No,” he snapped back. “I want them wrapped around each other. The temperature is dropping fast, and even though it won’t drop much below 25, we’re all wet and it’s windy and we could all get hypothermia.”

I noticed Cabot was just sort of watching Drake.

“Oh crap,” Ian grumbled, getting up and going over to Cabot. He stripped him out of his jacket and then shoved him at Drake, who grabbed Cabot and tucked him against his chest, wrapping his arms and jacket around him.

“Hold on to him,” Ian ordered, grabbing both sides of the parka and zipping them up together. “Keep him as warm as you can.”

“Absolutely,” Drake promised, leaning his head on top of Cabot’s.

“That’s disgusting,” Jenner spat. “How can you let my boy be touched by that pervert?”

“I see two kids in love, you homophobic prick,” Ian snarled. “And if you don’t want to look, go over on the other side of the cabin. Hope you don’t fuckin’ freeze to death.”

“I’m going to have your—”

“Miro,” Ian said suddenly, rounding on me. “Are the road flares in your bag?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Get them out,” he directed. He turned to Holley. “I need kindling, small branches off the trees, pull them off, like you’re making a Christmas wreath.”

“Yes,” Holley said, letting Ian know he was listening.

“Keep watch,” Ian told me before he took the stairs and left.

I found the flares in my bag and waited, listening to Cabot whimper, watching Jenner glare at the two younger men, and keeping vigil.

When Ian returned, he ignited two of the four flares and stacked the branches and the smaller pieces with the needles on top of them. It seemed like it took forever, but in reality, probably only thirty minutes, give or take. Once the branches underneath caught fire, the twigs ignited, and the flames got bigger and bigger as Ian added more and more wood.

“Road flare,” I said, clapping him on the back.

“Forgot my training for a second there,” he rumbled, his voice brittle as his eyes flicked to mine.

“Which is very human.” I sighed, leaning against him, the warmth from the fire almost orgasmic. “Holy fuck, make it bigger.”

He laughed softly as Drake and Cabot got close, thanking him over and over. They were able to unzip the parka, and Cabot sat between Drake’s legs as they faced the fire. Ian got up and he and Holley went to fetch more branches, this time taking the hatchet Drake had carried in his bag.

I was surprised at how quickly my jeans dried out as I sat cross-legged beside the fire, and between that and the water, I felt okay. Starving, but I’d live. When Ian returned, his gloves covered in sap and smelling like pine, I took his hat off and put it on the ground beside me before taking off mine and shoving it down on his head.

“What’re you doing?”

“That one’s wet and covered in crap. Wear mine until you warm up. I’ll go cut branches next time.”

“You’ll chop your hand off, I know it.”

I arched an eyebrow in warning. “Your faith in me is heartwarming.”

“Shut up.”

It was nice. The fire was really warm, and after a while, Cabot turned, curling up in Drake’s arms, and fell asleep after thanking Ian for the fire again. Drake wasn’t far behind. Jenner said he was only going to rest, but he was out as well, minutes later.

“I can feed the fire,” I insisted. “Why don’t you try and sleep a little. If I need you, I’ll wake you up.”

“Okay,” Ian agreed, lying down with his head in my lap. He was out in seconds.

“So,” Holley said, jolting me, which was good because I was dozing. “Tell me about being a marshal.”

“Tell me why you’re divorced?”

He smiled. “I think you can figure it out.”

I studied him.

“I really wanted to take you to dinner.”

“I’m very flattered, Chief, thank you.”

He grunted. “Though I would not have even entertained the thought had I known you were involved with your partner.”

It didn’t occur to me to deny it, to deny Ian. “It’s that obvious?”

“It wasn’t at first,” he mused, glancing at Ian with his head in my lap and my arm across his shoulder. “But once we got here, how protective he is, how gentle you are with him—it became apparent. And,” he said with a chuckle, “frankly he’s a bit too comfortable in your personal space.”