The Man Who Hated Ned O'Leary (Dig Two Graves 2)

“He reacts as if that whistle was his name,” Cole said, adjusting the bandana under his hat, which shifted when Archibald jumped from Ned’s shoulder to his, and then climbed onto the popcorn stand. It was unlikely anyone would have paid attention to old scars peeking from under Cole’s hat, but he wasn’t taking any chances.

Ned grabbed Tommy and pulled him into the air, as if he weighed nothing. The boy roared with laughter and kicked about until Ned put him on his shoulders. “Maybe it’s about time to call him something else than Dog, huh? Would you like to name him, Tommy?”

The boy glanced at the animal swirling around their legs and gave two quick whistles. Dog barked once and wagged his tail so hard it hit Cole in the thigh.

“Names can’t be whistles,” he protested but went quiet when Tommy signed at him.

[I can’t say anything else.]

“And I can’t whistle.”

[Ned teach?]

Ned blinked and met Cole’s gaze. “What’s he saying? Does he want to call Dog—” He repeated the whistle. Ned was getting the hang of sign language, especially when Tommy was slow and deliberate with it, adding more universal gestures, but he couldn’t see the small hands well when they rested on top of his head.

Cole’s shoulders hunched. “Yes. And you know my mouth can do many things, but not whistle,” he said, and tapped Ned’s foot with the tip of his boot.

Ned’s eyes widened and Cole basked in the warmth of his attention. He was still so very easy to fluster.

Cole winked at him and watched red hue climb up the wide face, becoming one with the freckles. Cole wanted to be that flush. To take Ned somewhere no one could see, open his shirt collar and lick the warm skin until they were both hot and shivery.

“Um. Yeah. We can still call him Dog too, since we need a word-name for him. How about that, Tommy? The whistle is his first name, and Dog his last name. So you better call him Mr. Dog.”

Tommy laughed with glee and nodded, briefly blinding Ned with his small hands. He popped another piece of candy into his mouth while Cole faced the girl selling popcorn. Self-satisfaction burned in his veins as he paid for the snack and handed the paper bag to Tommy. He was now closer to Ned. Closer than he should’ve been to another man, but in a crowd so dense, no one would have noticed anyway.

“Maybe we should get you another toy? What do you say, Tommy?” he asked. It was Ned who’d aimed well enough to win the wooden horse, even if he needed Cole’s money to take part in the competition. Cole wanted to leave the boy with a memento of his own. He used to play with what he could find, because whenever his mother had gotten him something, it had ended up disappearing. But maybe Tommy would be luckier in the orphanage? Maybe they’d treat him kindly and let him keep personal possessions?

The sideshow was closing down, but Cole got to throw knives at a target and won a little monkey toy of Tommy’s choosing. But as excited as the boy was with his new playthings, it was getting late enough to put him to sleep in Judith’s wagon.

“I think it’s time for you, little soldier,” Cole said and leaned close to Ned, so Tommy could climb onto his shoulders. The boy was light for his age, but had started filling out fast now that he had access to proper food. Face to face with the man he was about to give up on, Cole ought to have stopped breathing, ought to have stepped away fast, but instead, he inhaled Ned’s sweet breath right in the middle of the crowd.

His feet were tied to the ground, his thighs stiff, and he couldn’t help a little jolt in his privates when Ned’s eyelids lowered. He was such a magnificent piece of male flesh, and would find somebody to call his own in no time now that he wasn’t a hermit in the forest. But neither Terje nor any other man deserved him.

Would the men Ned bedded in the future even understand how lucky they were to have none of the baggage Cole carried, and all the joy of Ned’s company?

“He’s shaking his head, but his eyes are so heavy,” Ned mocked Tommy and pulled on Cole’s arm to get them moving.

Judith had offered Tommy a place to sleep in her wagon, and Cole and Ned were meant to lay their heads down on Terje’s floor much later, but Cole would have to find an alternative arrangement if Terje was to spread his wings and use all the tricks in his arsenal of seduction.

It was better that way. The longer he and Ned were together, the harder it was to consider parting, and it needed to happen. Better deal with it now, while the insistent lust and affection were still fresh and could be snuffed out by the presence of someone else. Someone to take care of Ned and keep him from once again becoming a recluse without much sense in his skull.