All Kinds of Tied Down (Marshals 1)

“Okay,” I agreed, my body heating fast.

He leaned into me, his mouth on my ear. “I wanna move all my stuff in tonight, but we’ll just go to my place and get clothes for tomorrow.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“All I wanna do is sleep in your bed.”

He’d be lucky to do any of that.

“I wanna be there, like, now.”

“You have no idea what you’re getting into.”

“Yeah, I do,” he said softly. “I’m yours.”

They were magic words.

ONCE WE landed in Chicago, we walked through one of the many enormous terminals toward the security gates, then down to baggage claim, where we could get a cab back to the field office to process Drake and Cabot.

“Daddy!”

We all looked up as a beautiful little dark-eyed, dark-haired girl came charging toward us. I was wondering where her father was when I saw Kage drop to one knee and hold out his arms. She flung herself into them, hugging him tight, her smile huge.

His daughter?

Christ.

Would it kill the man to have pictures on his desk? And I got it, we were marshals, and you didn’t want scary people perusing snapshots of your kids, but still. It was a lot to take in, Sam Kage as a father. He let her go and took her hand, didn’t turn to introduce her to us, nothing. They walked together, him looking down, her looking up, as she chattered to him about their cat that was now pink, something about food coloring and an experiment gone wrong and cupcakes. When the doors slid open and we walked outside, she waved crazily, and a boy, older, maybe nine or ten, ran up and stopped, wrapping his arms around Kage’s waist, leaning for a second as the scary man who led our team bent and kissed the top of his head.

I wondered which kid was adopted as both children left him, his son with his duffel, his daughter with his laptop bag, running to the curb where a van idled. The side door slid open sideways, and then, from the driver’s side window, a head popped out. And you could have knocked me over with a feather.

Not a woman.

Sam Kage did not have a wife.

The kids climbed into the back, and the door closed as Kage reached for the stunning blond man beaming at him. He cupped his face in his hands, leaned in, and kissed him. It was quick, but tender and a revelation to witness, because holy crap, who knew Kage had it in him? When the other man ducked back inside, Kage opened the passenger-side door and got in. They didn’t leave, though; the man popped his head out again, looked right at us, and waved.

“Glad to see you again, Deputy White.”

My teammate waved back, Kage raised a hand, and the van was gone seconds later.

I rounded on White. “You fuck!”

“What?”

“How come you never told me our boss was gay?”

He bristled. “What does it matter?”

“Because I’m gay, asshole,” I barked.

“Oh yeah,” he huffed, relaxing from his combative stance. “I forgot.”

And that was nice, that to White it didn’t matter one way or another who I slept with—I was simply another member of his team. But still! Kage was gay?

“Does everybody know but me?”

“I don’t think anybody knows but me, Sharpe, and now you and Doyle.”

“How does Sharpe know?”

He squinted at me. “Everything I know, my partner knows.”

“Right. Sure.” Processing. “He’s gay?”

“Yep.”

“How did you find out?”

“I had to take some surveillance photos over to his house like three years ago now. It was right before you started, actually.”

“So how long?”

“How long what? How long has he been gay? How the fuck am I supposed—”

“No. How long has he been with his husband?”

“Oh, he’s been in a civil union with Mr. Harcourt like fifteen years or something, but in June they’re gonna have a big party.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah.”

“And you know this how?”

“I was with him when he was talking to that friend of his, you know, the homicide detective who has that billionaire boyfriend—what’s his name?”

“I don’t remember.”

“Well, that’s how I know.”

I had to absorb. “Sam Kage is gay.”

“So am I, get over it,” Ian said, walking around me toward the curb to get a cab.

“See, now, I figured Doyle was gay too,” White yawned as he looked for his wife’s car in the sea of vehicles.

“What?” I managed to get out, certain I was having a heart attack.

He shrugged. “I mean, how he looks at you all the time? You’d hafta be blind to miss that shit, right?”

Oh dear God.

“And how you’re always in his space and you’re the only one he lets do that—I mean, I was pretty sure you guys were, yanno… together.”

I needed to sit down before I passed out. Leaning over, I put my hands on my thighs and took steady in and out breaths before I hyperventilated.