Whatever It Takes (Stonewall Investigations Blue Creek 3)

I laughed even harder. “Oh come on, look at it. Opossums aren’t that bad.”

“Jace, that thing looks like it was created by random draw. It’s like someone asked themselves, ‘Hmm, what can I make that’s a mixture of things a lot of people hate’ after drinking an entire handle of vodka. I’m surprised it doesn’t have cockroach legs or fly wings.” Matt, a little more composed, stepped closer to the opossum. His face twisted in disgust. “How did it even get in here?”

“I’ve been having problems with critters coming in through my basement. None of them ever made it up here, though. Think that means I should keep him?” I asked, fluttering my eyelashes at Matt.

“Jason, if you keep that thing, then I’ll be booking my first flight out. Opossums can’t live on islands, right? I think I’d have a good time living somewhere in the Bahamas.” The opossum twitched, and Matt jumped back. “More importantly, how the hell are we getting it out of here?”

“Open that door,” I said, pointing at the front door as I went to the closet. I grabbed a broom from inside and went back to my new roommate. “Sorry, buddy, but playtime’s over.” I pushed at the furry (and admittedly quite ugly) critter. It still didn’t come back alive, rolling over and over a few times before finally getting on its feet. Matt drew in a sharp breath as I gave it a healthy shove.

My new friend went out the door, disappearing into the night. Matt shut the door and locked it, appearing relieved. I couldn’t help but laugh again, kissing him.

“That was a close call,” I said, holding him against the door.

“Extremely.” Matt kissed me back, smiling against my lips. I glanced at the clock on the wall.

“Damn,” I said, “it’s already six thirty. I doubt I’m going back to sleep now.”

“We can try.”

“We can…”

We didn’t. Instead, we got back in bed and lazily played with each other as the sun slowly crept up into the sky, its morning glow seeping through the shut curtains, shining its warm light as we cuddled and stroked, licked and sucked.

It was during a short break, where my leg found its spot between Matt’s, his warm balls resting against my thigh, his hard length twitching against mine, when Matt opened up about something. Starting with a simple “You know” and ending it with a surprising statement.

“Wait, wait,” I sat up, feeling as if I hadn’t heard him right. “You did what?”

“I asked to be assigned to the Pegasus case, Jace. It wasn’t a random thing—it was planned. I stumbled—all right fine—I looked you up online and saw a post you made about moving to Blue Creek. When my CO told me about the case, I jumped on it. Even asked her to hand off the case I’d been working on before just so I could come here.”

That… that was a surprise. I thought our second chance had been a product of chance, but it never was. It had been Matt’s choice to come here, back into my arms. I was almost pushed to tears. How did I ever deserve this man? This second chance at true love?

“Damn, Matt, I don’t even know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything.”

I smiled and kissed him, pressing my body flush against his, relishing in the hard lines and soft warmth. “No, wait, I do know what to say: thank you. Thank you for forgiving me, for coming back. Thank you for letting me love you.”

“I love you, too, baby.” His smoldering grin twisted as he started to kiss me, trailing down my chest, his hand wrapping around my cock. “Now let me show you how much.”

I couldn’t hold back my yawn as we sat at a booth inside Juno Pine’s diner. Coming back here wasn’t my idea, nor did it make me feel comfortable knowing that the last time we were here was when that photograph had been taken, but Harry insisted on coming back. Said that he couldn’t tell us what he needed to without having his emotional-support Juno Pine’s cheeseburger.

And I had to admit, the burger at the diner really was next-level.

“Thanks for meeting me, guys, I know it was a little last-minute.”

Harry sat across from Matt and me. He looked different from the last time we saw him. Not only was his beard growing thicker and his hair longer, but his energy was just so much more relaxed. He sat with an arm thrown back on the booth, an easy smile on his face, wearing a simple graphic tee with the sleeves rolled up.

Basically, he was the exact opposite of Matt and me. My hair was barely brushed, and my white polo shirt had a stain on the collar that I noticed far too late. I had a tension headache that hammered at the midpoint of my skull, as if a little gnome had taken residence in there and decided now would be a great time to hang a painting up. It had to do with the lack of sleep, that was a given, but I was also being affected by the heavy toll that fear and anxiety took on me. I had worked some dangerous cases before, but never anything like this.