ONE GOOD YEAR

Rowan McBride

www.loose-id.com

One Good Year
Copyright © March 2012 by Rowan McBride
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eISBN 978-1-61118-450-1
Editor: Raven McKnight
Cover Artist: Anne Cain
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Chapter One

Tilting my head back, I spread my arms, noting idly that my fingertips grazed the

edges of the sofa. Not so long ago, I could easily span this piece of furniture with room

to spare, wrists dangling off the ends.

My eyes fluttered open, and I stared up at the white ceiling. Ten months, two

weeks. This place had been my home for almost a year. The best I’d ever had.

So why did I feel so alone?

“Ace,” I murmured as softly as I could. Not that it mattered. My master wasn’t

here. These minor separations were becoming more frequent, and they made my entire

body ache. But I quietly accepted them because it was what he wanted.

I let my head tip forward and surveyed the suite. So many changes. When I’d first

arrived, most of the furniture was the same color as the ceiling. Bright, yet devoid of the

warmth I associated with my master. The disparity made sense when Ace explained

that it had all been there when he moved in. None of it was really his.

Now, though, it held bursts of color. A green armchair here. A blue end table

shaped like a poker chip there. Each wall of the living room held an unframed painting

featuring a suit of cards—diamonds, clubs, hearts, and…spades. In other rooms there

were paintings of different hands—full houses, straights, royal flushes—art done

exclusively in reds and blacks.

So many mismatched pieces, yet the whole reflected Ace so well that I couldn’t

help but love it.

A keycard slid through its lock, and my gaze drifted toward the front door.

Rowan McBride

“Sorry!” Ace rushed inside, dressed in a faded coat draped over a T-shirt and

jeans, a well-worn backpack slung over his shoulder. “How was…” He skidded to a

stop, stared at me from the other side of the coffee table between us.

Smiling gently, I let him stare. I was his living, breathing fantasy, after all. And no

matter how his tastes evolved, my own body would change to match what he wanted

most. I still had that, at least. One of the benefits of being genetically engineered to

serve.

The silence gave me a chance to look him over, as well. Ace didn’t think much of

his hair—thought it was the color of rust. In reality it was a rich, lush auburn. It curled

around his ears and made him look open, innocent. Which was true.

But those eyes. Sharp and playful. As seductive as spiced whiskey. That was true

too.

When I sensed he’d had his fill, I rose to my feet. “How was…?”

Blinking, he tilted his head back to follow my movement. “W-what?”

“When you first came in, you were about to ask a question.” I walked around the

coffee table, closing the distance between us. “What was it?”

“Oh yeah.” He stared up at me, ran a hand through his hair. “I…” Wow, your eyes

are so green.

I bit back a chuckle. Our link was a strange one. So strong that I could often hear

his thoughts. So shockingly fragile that at times I felt it might snap apart the instant I

stopped paying attention. “Yes?” I asked, pretending innocence to his distracted state.

He shook his head as if to clear the stray thoughts from his mind. “I wanted to

know how you liked the movie.”

Ah. That. “It was fine.”

“Just fine?”

It was all I cared to say about such an empty night, so I changed the subject. “How

was your game?”

One Good Year

Ace paused, then broke into a grin, removing the bag from his shoulder and

tossing it onto the nearest chair.

It landed on the seat with a thud, which could only mean it was filled with cash.

My mouth crooked. “I take it that means you won?”

“Busted everybody at the table.” He stretched his arms over his head, and the

sight of his lithe body heated my own. “Wasn’t much of a challenge, though. One guy

totally blew his concentration because he couldn’t take his mind off the rats.”

I frowned. “Rats?”

All at once, that long, lazy stretch switched over to quick animation as he

answered my question with words and hands. “Man! The matchstick for this one took

the term ‘underground’ a little too seriously. Game was actually underground. How

crazy is that?”

“Matchstick” was Ace’s term for the individuals who arranged these events.

Because they “lit a fire” underneath a game. “Did you have fun?” Rats or no rats, I

knew what he would say. I just wanted to hear him say it.

Ace smiled, wistful and warm. “Yeah.”

The vibrancy in him was such a pleasure. How much more vivid had it been with

his cards in hand? “I wish you’d taken me along.”

His smile faded. “Was the movie that bad, Spade?”

A tremor went through my body at the sound of the name he’d given me. Spade.

The single word held so much power. It represented the card he’d used to win me all

those months ago, as well as the card that had kept us together when I was almost torn

away from him. A word that linked his essence to mine.

Despite all of this, he kept sending me away. “It wasn’t bad.” I reached out to

catch a lock of his hair between my fingers. “I would have preferred to go with you.”

Rowan McBride

“Spade, I was in a sewer today.” He grinned and tugged at his shirt. “I gotta toss

another set of clothes. It wouldn’t have been fun for you, standing around, watching me

play poker.”

“I like to watch you play.” My fingers drifted to the curve of his ear. “There are

few things I like more.”

His brow furrowed as he tried to understand. “Because my pleasure is your

pleasure?”

“Yes, that’s part of it.” Uneasiness pricked at him. But my answer was not yet

complete. “I belonged to other card sharks before you, Ace. I never enjoyed watching

those masters so much.”

Surprise flickered over his face. “Yeah?”

I smiled, nodded.

“Okay,” he said, easing a step closer. “Come to the rest of my games.”

Just as the soft order began to relax the tension I’d been holding all day, Ace

thumped his knuckles against my chest. “But I’m still sending you to the movies once a

week.”

Why? Why do you keep sending me away? I wanted to ask it so badly that my body

shook from holding back the question.

Ace’s expression slipped into concern. “Spade?”

I want what you want. I want you to be happy. But most of all I want… Curving my

palm behind his nape, I drew him to my body. I lowered my head and buried my face

in his hair, inhaling deeply. Even with where he’d been tonight, I could still catch the

green-apple scent of his shampoo. “I love you.”

He jumped, then wrapped his arms around my waist, rested his head against my

chest. “Hey, what’s this all of a sudden?”

There’d been a time when Ace was insecure, lost. Scared of letting anyone in and

scared of letting them go. He needed to be surrounded by warmth and strength and

One Good Year

safety. I was more than capable of giving him those things, and my body had changed

accordingly. Back then, the top of his head only reached my stomach. I was broad and

hard and swollen thick with muscle.

In the last few months I’d grown significantly smaller. I was still quite large by

human standards, but the changes corresponded to my master’s increasing confidence,

his decreasing fear.

I was glad. But…

Were these the only reasons he needed me? Would this trend continue until I

became nothing and he discarded me without a second thought?

Now I was the one afraid.

Closing my eyes, I focused on our link, searching for that small bit of reassurance I

wanted so desperately.

Soon our connection became everything, steadying my breathing, my heart. I

skimmed along the link, deeper…deeper…

Ah, there it is. The warmth of his love for me.

“Thank you,” I murmured, nuzzling his hair.

His husky voice caressed my senses as he pushed himself to his toes, dropped a

kiss to the hollow of my throat. “For what?”

I curved my hands over his waist and lifted him to eye level. He wrapped his legs

around me, forgetting the question altogether as his arousal spiraled upward. “You’re

really tall, you know that?” he said, draping his arms over my shoulders.

This attraction was genuine. Perhaps that meant the changes to my body would

cease for a while. “You like tall men.”

“I do.” He touched our foreheads together. “I’m crazy for coming home this late.

Sorry. Again.”

A master shouldn’t have to apologize to his servant, but although Ace tried to

make me happy by giving me regular orders, he didn’t think of me as a servant. Not at

Rowan McBride

all. As Senai, the thought should have scared me, but it only brought me an odd sense

of well-being.

“What do you want?” I asked, striving to get closer to him in the only way I knew.

Heavy-lidded eyes stared into mine as he breathed warm words over my lips.

“Bath. Bed.”

“Ah. Then you should let go of me so I can run your water and draw down our

sheets.”

He groaned and tightened his embrace. “Scratch that. Kiss, sex, bath, bed.” His

mouth brushed over mine. “Or kiss-bath-sex-bed. Whatever. As long as the kiss comes

first and the sex is in there somewhere. How’s that?”

I lifted a hand, easily supporting his weight with my other arm. “Sounds simple

enough,” I told him, twining my fingers in his hair. Then his mouth was on mine, and I

was lost—tasting, nipping, licking. My Senai training did me no good as I drank deep,

wanting more of him, wanting all of him. With this man I had neither the control nor

the patience to calculate how best to pleasure him. I could only give myself, wholly and

completely.

The pleasure inside my master surged despite my lack of grace.

Breaking the kiss, I strode toward the bathroom. “Do you want to shower

together?”

After a shuddering breath, he nodded and recaptured my mouth.

He loved me. I loved him. He was my Ace, and we’d always be together.

Please. Please let it be as simple as that.

One Good Year

Chapter Two

I set a glass of orange juice next to Ace’s plate just as he emerged from the

bedroom. “Good morning,” I said cheerfully, leaning against the table.

He yawned, scrubbed at his face with his hand. Even then his eyes remained half-

closed as they tried to focus on me. “Mornin’.” Another jaw-cracking yawn. “Smells

great.”

His hair was mussed from a good night’s sleep and the sex before it. He’d

managed to pull on a pair of boxer shorts that hung low and slanted on his hips as he

sank into the chair I held for him. By far, the most adorable master I’d ever had.

“You don’t have to do this stuff, you know,” he mumbled, but smiled when he

tasted the juice and bit into a strip of bacon.

That smile lazed through my body, and I savored the sensation. “You like ‘this

stuff.’”

“Mm.” He spread a spoonful of jam onto a toast point. “Stay in bed tomorrow.

Make sure your face is the first thing I see when I wake up.”

The gentle order sent a tremor of pleasure racing along my nerves. “All right.”

He grinned wider, and his eyes opened more fully. “Sit down.”

I obeyed, taking the seat beside him. “Next?”

“Next”—he slid his plate toward me—“share.”

“Ace, I made that breakfast for—”

“Don’t care. We’re gonna start having days when we have three squares

together.” He held up a piece of toast. “Now eat.”

Rowan McBride

Chuckling, I leaned my elbow on the table. “You’ve become an outstanding

master.”

“After a year of your ‘training,’ I should be.” His graceful fingers flipped the toast

around. When he turned it again, there was jam on the first side.

I straightened. “Did you just perform one of your card tricks on a piece of toast?”

He winked.

Shaking my head, I took the bread from his hand and shared my first breakfast

with him.

* * * *

“Another movie? So soon?”

Ace spread a newspaper over the coffee table. “Lots of new releases today.

Figured it’d be fun to pick one out for you.”

Fun. Holding back a sigh, I went to sit next to him on the sofa.

“Hey”—he tapped one of the listings—“how about this one? ‘Alien being falls to

Earth and must navigate a sea of humanity.’ That sound right up your alley.”

The sound of my own laughter took me by surprise. “But I already know how that

one ends.” Still chuckling, I pressed a kiss to his cheek.

His eyes closed a moment as he enjoyed my touch. “Good point.” He straightened

and looked over the list of movies. “How about…”

I listened to him for a while, not caring which movie he chose. He wanted me at

his games; he wanted mine to be the first face he saw when he awoke; he wanted me at

his breakfast table. That was more than enough. I didn’t understand why he insisted on

separating us like this, but it was only two hours a week. Nothing to worry about.

“Why don’t you come with me?” I asked suddenly, and my breath caught.

I…I hadn’t meant to say that.

Ace was startled as well, and he turned his head to meet my gaze. “Say what?”

One Good Year

My master liked confident men, and although that particular quality had

evaporated with my unintended question, I forced a calm smile. “Let’s watch a movie

together, Ace.”

If I’d been human, I’d have missed the barely perceptible tremor in his hand.

Because I was Senai, I could feel the spike in anxiety he tried to hide from me.

“Sure,” he said, returning his gaze to the newspaper. “How about this one?”

I glanced at his choice. “I’ve already seen that one.”

“You have?” He ran his finger along the list. “Then let’s see this…”

He was heading toward an even older movie. “I’ve seen everything but the new

releases.” I leaned forward to catch his gaze. “You send me every week, remember?”

“Oh.” His voice dipped. “Yeah.”

My request was causing him so much stress, and I couldn’t allow that. “Never

mind.” I brushed my lips over his temple. “I’ll go by myself.”

He glanced up. “W-we can—”

“To tell you the truth, I believe I’ll derive more enjoyment from your original

order.” My fingers threaded through his hair, caressed the curve of his ear. “The act of

changing your mind has made me feel less…connected.”

Ace furrowed his brow in concern.

I only smiled, unwilling to tell him more lies.

“Spade…” Hesitation caught his hand before he slid it from the newspaper, his

tension tempered with a touch of relief. “What movie do you want to see?”

None of them. Absolutely none. “I’ll watch the one with the alien.”

“But I thought—”

I rose to my feet. “I should get going.”

Ace hopped up and followed me to the door. “You don’t have to leave now. You

were just there yesterday.”

I forced a grin. “The sooner I leave, the sooner I can obey.”

Rowan McBride

“Wait.” He grabbed my arm. “At least take a coat or something.”

My smile warmed. Two hours a week. It really was nothing. Not in the face of

these unintentional displays of love. “I don’t need it.”

His grip on my arm tightened.

More anxiety. What sort of Senai had I become, causing my master pain this way?

“Do you want me to wear a coat?”

He tugged me closer. “Yeah.”

I obeyed, sending a mental command to my clothing. It shifted along my skin, and

a layer of thread separated from my shirt, thickening, replicating, flowing over my

shoulders and down to my knees as it formed into a long black coat. “How’s that?”

He raised his hand from my arm, and the empty section of my sleeve filled in to

complete the garment. “You sure you want to see that alien flick? No way he’s cooler

than you.”

His awe had eased the rest of the tension he’d been feeling, and I was glad I could

do that for him. “I’m sure.” Reluctantly, I turned away.

“Hold on.”

Pausing, I looked over my shoulder. “Yes?”

“I have a command for you.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “There’s no time

limit on completing it, but you have to obey. Understand?”

Ace never gave absolute orders. Curious, I turned from the door to face him. “Oh?

What is it?”

“Make a friend.”

“Why?”

Surprise flickered over his face, as if he hadn’t expected such a question. “What do

you mean, why? Because you don’t have any, and everyone needs someone in their

corner.”

“Aren’t you in my corner?”

One Good Year

“Of course I am, but you need friends of your own. It’s not healthy having just

me.”

How would something like that affect my health? “You have no friends and seem

well enough.”

“Hey,” he said defensively. “I have friends.”

“Do you? May I ask who they are?”

His mouth worked in silence a few moments. “There’s Nathan.”

I leaned a shoulder against the wall. “The matchstick who lives in Detroit.”

“And…” He perked. “And Jennika.”

This was actually rather cute. “Your lawyer.”

Frustration brought hot color into his skin. “That’s still two more than you have!”

I chuckled. After nearly a year, he still had trouble understanding the most basic

components of my design. “What if I said I neither need nor want anyone but you?

How would you react?”

He fell quiet, staring up at me.

The reaction took me off guard, and I tilted my head. “It makes you sad.”

He nodded.

I didn’t understand the point of friends. The only person a Senai needed was his

master—that imperative was written into my very DNA. But it was important to Ace,

so I would make it happen, even at the risk of weakening our bond. “Jennika seems

quite fond of me. And we converse. Does that count?”

The sadness inside him deepened. “If it did, you’d know it.”

Ace was right not to give me a time limit. This might turn out to be more complex

than it had seemed when he first suggested it. “Perhaps I’ll find someone at the movie

theater,” I offered, hiding my uncertainty behind a smile.

Hope and warmth bloomed as the sadness faded. “I’d like that.”

Rowan McBride

Armed with two commands from my master, I dropped a kiss to his forehead. “I’ll

be home soon.”

He tipped his head back, and his words teased my mouth as his lips caressed

mine. “Go to the movie, watch the movie, and—barring an emergency—don’t leave the

movie until the credits are done. Understand?”

Although some of my basic design elements eluded him, many of the more

intricate aspects seemed to come quite easily. “You’ve taken to reading my mind, I see.”

“I read you, and I know you have a tendency to find loopholes in orders you’re not

feeling.”

Ace’s livelihood depended on his ability to assess people. Although I was

supposed to be a blank slate, a simple reflection of my master’s desires, he’d taught me

that I possessed a great many “tells.” The knowledge bothered me at first—it marked a

separation between master and servant—but now, for reasons I didn’t understand, I felt

more…whole.

Unfortunately, feeling partially whole only made me want to complete the

process, and I didn’t know how to do that.

So I did the best I could and obeyed my master’s orders.

One Good Year

Chapter Three

Nodding to the doorman, I exited the building. An odd feeling cascaded over me

as soon as I hit the open air. A sense of familiarity, one I hadn’t experienced since…

I turned, my gaze settling on a man leaning back against the wall beside the door.

Tall, though not as tall as me, with long black hair tied neatly behind him and the

darkest eyes I’d ever seen. He wore a tailored suit, and a black coat not so different from

mine. He looked human. As human as I did.

But he wasn’t.

“You’re Senai,” I said softly.

He grinned. “So are you.”

Cautiously, I approached, glancing around as discreetly as I could.

“Don’t bother looking for my master. No one owns me.”

Shock widened my eyes. “That’s impossible. How can you still be alive?”

“A rather severe defect in my system.” His smile faded. “Didn’t find out about it

till the crash.”

After our ship hurtled into that field fifteen years ago, we scattered. To find new

masters, to stay alive. Since then, I’d never seen another Senai. Not once. “Are you

lonely?”

He smiled again, the expression holding more kindness this time. “I have my own

interests, my own passions. Independence keeps me quite busy.”

For one of us to live that way… I struggled to grasp the concept.

Rowan McBride

The other Senai straightened away from the wall. “What about you? Almost every

time you leave this building, you’re by yourself. Is your master neglecting you? Are you

lonely?”

I frowned. “You’ve been watching me?”

Unapologetic, he slipped his hands into his pockets. “For a few weeks now.”

Weeks? How had I not sensed him before today? “Why?”

“Tracking down all the Senai to make sure they’re settled in good living

situations.”

This man… He was independent, free. Yet he willingly tied himself to a group of

beings he hadn’t known before we were put on that transport together. “You’ve been

thinking of us all this time?”

“I never stop. Including you, I’ve found thirteen of us so far.”

It was hard to define the emotion that rose inside me then. A connection, but one

quite unlike the bond I shared with Ace. “I’m grateful.”

He waved the statement away and held out his hand. “I’m Ancel.”

I reached out, shook it. “Spade.”

Another easy grin shaped his lips. “Where are you headed? The movies again?”

It should have been disquieting to find out how closely I’d been watched. But

knowing the man in front of me was Senai—that he’d been searching for me the last

fifteen years—only made me want to know more about him. “Yes.”

“Could you use a friend this time around?”

A friend. He could not have appeared at a better time. “I’d like that.”

“Fantastic.” He walked forward and hailed a taxi. “Let’s go.”

Without hesitation, I followed him. Ace often spoke of Lady Luck—when he

recalled how we had met or after a particularly good night of poker. It was hard not to

believe she blessed him whenever he mentioned her.

I hadn’t known that she graced me as well.

One Good Year

* * * *

I’d gone to the movies. I’d made a friend. Pausing in the hallway, I let myself

enjoy the bliss that came with completed commands. Then I slid my card through the

lock, eager to share my bliss with Ace.

Feminine laughter greeted me, and I followed the sound to the living room. A

raven-haired woman sat next to my master on the sofa.

Ace glanced up at my entrance, and the woman turned, her bright green eyes

lighting up at the sight of me.

“Spade!”

I smiled. “Hello, Jennika.”

She whistled as she looked me up and down. “I swear, you get sexier every time I

see you.”

“Thanks,” I said, chuckling. “Ace has excellent taste.”

“He sure does. In men, anyway. His decorating skills leave something to be

desired.”

“What’s wrong with my decorating?” asked Ace.

She pointed to a black china cabinet with white swirl accents.

“The vase?” he asked, following her finger.

“Yes, the vase.”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“It’s shaped like a zebra’s head.”

“It matches the cabinet.”

“No.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “No, it really doesn’t. Do you have any

idea how lucky you are that you’ve got a man whose sheer hotness distracts the eye

from the rest of your home?”

A blush colored Ace’s skin.

Rowan McBride

Jennika came here often enough to notice whenever Ace added a knickknack here

or there, and hence had witnessed the dramatic changes in my body over the last year.

Trusting her, Ace had shared our secret. She kept it, but she liked to tease him from

time to time.

And Ace really didn’t enjoy being teased by anyone but me. He let her do it,

though, because they were close.

Friends, I was just realizing.

“Personally, I love what he’s done with our home,” I said, coming to his defense.

The sound of my voice seemed to tick something in her memory, and she turned

back to Ace. “To answer your question, boss: yeah, I can do it. Should be fun.”

Mischief curved his mouth. “Have I told you lately how much I appreciate

your…flexible moral center?”

Jennika laughed again.

“Are you two working out the details for another game?” In his world of

underground cards, Ace was technically ranked second. But no one believed it; they

treated him as the one to beat. Any game Ace played in, he got to set the terms.

“Actually,” said Ace, relaxing into the sofa, “we were talking about you.”

Happiness, quiet and euphoric, suffused him, suffused me. The bliss I’d been

feeling just a few moments ago lacked luster in comparison. “Oh?”

Jennika, obviously giddy over the subject, piped up. “We’re going to make you a

real person!”

“Documented,” corrected Ace, his gaze never leaving mine. “Documented person.

As in, ‘exists on paper.’ As an American citizen. In New York.”

I tilted my head to the side. “Is that possible? My country of origin is another

planet, and even on Kaz I’m considered more appliance than person.”

One Good Year

Some of Ace’s happiness ebbed, and I swore silently. He didn’t like it when I

described myself that way. Then he looked into my eyes, and it all came rushing back,

along with the oddest thought:

Toasters don’t have heartbeats.

“Tricky,” said Jennika, oblivious to the private moment. “But I think I can swing

it. You’ll need a starting point—a birth certificate—then a paper trail that puts a few

leaves on your family tree before that point and traces your life to the here and now.”

She made it sound so simple, and Ace’s excitement was so alluring. “May I pick

my birth date?”

Jennika swept her finger over the tablet computer on her lap. “Let me have it.”

“May twenty-fourth.”

Ace’s smile tugged wider as he glanced away.

“What’s special about May twenty-fourth?”

I tried to catch my master’s eye, but he wouldn’t allow it, blushing again. “It’s the

day I met Ace.”

“Oh, that is just too sweet.” Jennika made a notation on her tablet. “Isn’t that too

sweet, Ace?”

With his gaze locked on the arm of the sofa, he cleared his throat. “Yeah.”

Jennika smirked and returned her attention to me. “You’re thirty-two, right?”

Oh, what I would have given to be alone with Ace right then. I wanted to sweep

him into my arms, bury my face in his green-apple scent. I wanted to watch him shed

his inhibitions while I made love to him. “That’s right.”

“Any idea what you’d like your last name to be?”

I didn’t hesitate. “Donovan.”

Ace’s head shot up. “No.”

I fell still as I tried to decipher the reason behind his rejection.

Rowan McBride

Jennika was surprised as well. “Why not? I think that’s even sweeter than the date

thing.”

“B-because…” He looked at her and gestured in my direction. “Shit! What would

it look like, both of us having the same last name when I take him to the courthouse?

They’re gonna think we’re related!”

She sat straight. “Courthouse?”

A slow realization dawned on me. “Marriage. You’re talking about marriage.”

His eyes flew wide, then squeezed shut as his skin turned the color of his hair.

“Ah, man.” He jumped off the sofa and made a break for the bedroom.

I caught his arm when he tried to pass me and drew him against my body. “Is that

the reason for all of this?” I swept my hand over his hair, let it drift down to his jaw,

and tilted his head back. “Do you want to marry me?”

Flustered, agitated, he grabbed hold of my coat. “It’s legal now. Don’t you think

we should do it as soon as we can, in case the law flips on us?”

I lowered my head, hard-pressed to keep the smile from my lips. “Why do you

want to ‘do it’ at all?”

His fingers loosened; his voice dropped to a whisper. “You know why.”

Because he loved me. Because he wanted to spend the rest of his life with me. And

because, in his eyes, I was a person. The most important person in the world.

“I do.” Taking his mouth, I kissed him the way I had when I first discovered this

love within me. When I wanted to fuse my soul to his even as I could scarcely believe

such a thing was happening. He responded in kind, slipping his arms around my body,

aching to have me inside.

“Ahem,” said Jennika from her seat on the sofa. “Do you guys need some alone

time?”

Ace paused, blew a soft stream of air against my lips, and stepped away.

She shook her head, her face deadpan calm. “That was a terrible proposal.”

One Good Year

“It wasn’t a proposal,” he snapped, raking a hand through his hair. “He’s the one

who asked me to marry him. I’m just saying yes.”

I glanced down at him. “I’m sorry?”

His temper dissipated when he saw my confusion. “You…don’t remember?”

A proposal. There was no way I could have forgotten that. But Ace seemed so

sure.

Opening my senses, I stared into his eyes, trying to see what he remembered, and

to remember it as well.

* * * *

I grinned, the muscles in my chest tensing as I removed the piercing from my

nipple. Holding it out with one hand, I smoothed down my shirt with the other.

My new master didn’t know what to make of my gift. “You’re giving it to me?”

Innocent, wary. Generous and scared. There was so much I wanted to learn about

him, so much I wanted to set free. Already my body hummed with the pleasure I could

grant us both.

I took his wrist, dropped the silver hoop into his palm, and closed his fingers

around it. “With this ring,” I said, touching my lips to his fist. The human ritual was a

bit of a mystery to me, but I knew it represented a promise, and I knew I would keep it

for as long as he wanted.

* * * *

“Ah,” I murmured, shifting my gaze to Jennika. “He’s right; I did propose. On the

night we met, in fact.”

She fisted her hand against her breasts. “Aww.”

Ace straightened. “You don’t even know what he did. Why do I get a ‘you suck’

when he gets an automatic ‘aww’?”

“Have you looked into those dreamy eyes?”

Rowan McBride

He shoved his hands into his pockets but didn’t argue with her. Because he agreed

on the point about my eyes.

Had I really been so insecure just this morning?

“Spade,” he said, his voice gruff, “pick a name already so we can go all in.”

All in. With Ace. My heart skipped a beat, and I rubbed my hand over my chest in

an effort to steady it. In a flash, I knew the name I wanted. “I’d like my surname to be

Heart.”

“Spade Heart.” Humor brightened his face. “That’s great. That’s fucking great.

You’ll be half the suits in the deck.”

My mouth twitched. No matter the situation, the cards were never far from his

mind.

Jennika groaned. “You’re so clueless, boss.”

“What?” He looked back and forth between us. “Why?”

I reached out, traced my fingers along the curve of his ear. “The name I really

want is Donovan. I chose this one only to relinquish it.”

One of his hands left its pocket. “Hold on. So that means you’re giving me

your…” His lips parted. “Oh, I get it.”

Jennika applauded his epiphany. “I, for one, approve of the choice. Although we

should probably spell it H-A-R-T instead of H-E-A-R-T. Just to make it more believable

on paper.”

It made sense, so I nodded.

Then her green eyes sparked with mischief. “Which means you’ll have the same

last name as me.” She winked. “Want me to put you down as my long-lost brother?”

This was an outcome I couldn’t have imagined. “Wouldn’t choosing Hart make

me your husband’s brother?”

She furrowed her brow in confusion. “His surname is Sanderson.”

One Good Year

I’d been so focused on taking Ace’s name, it hadn’t occurred to me that she might

have kept her own. “Ah. Apologies.”

Her expression cleared. “So how about it? As a bonus, I’ll give you away at the

ceremony. Since you seem intent on being all traditional and everything.”

I chuckled into my fist. “That sounds…lively. I’m honored.”

Jennika made a few more notations on her tablet before shutting it down and

closing its case. “Well, then,” she said, rising to her feet, “I should get a beat on things

so you two can have your happily-ever-after.”

“Thanks, Jen,” said Ace, his fondness for her easily apparent in his voice.

“No prob, boss.” She bumped fists with him before throwing an arm around me.

“You’d best take care of him. Hear me, Spade?”

“Of course,” I told her, returning her embrace. When she stepped back from me, I

escorted her out of the suite.

When I returned to the living room, I found Ace sitting on the arm of a recliner.

He looked happy. Maybe happier than I’d ever seen him.

“Spade Hart.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Has a nice ring to it.”

“Spade Donovan sounds better.”

A smile ghosted on his lips. “It does, at that.”

Married. Not once in my life had I considered I would form that sort of bond. “I

should get you a ring. The one I gave you that night will never fit your finger.”

He chuckled. “This is so…” His arms dropped to his sides, and he gripped the

chair to lean back. “Let’s worry about the details later. How do you want to celebrate

having a full name?”

Ace and I rarely went out together unless it was to a poker game or to dinner in an

out-of-the-way restaurant. This was supposed to be a celebration, so…

“St. Patrick’s Day.”

“What about it?”

Rowan McBride

Sometimes I forgot he couldn’t actually read my mind. “The parade is in two

weeks. Why don’t we go?”

His skin paled. “You’ve never been?”

All his defenses had gone up. Not a conscious block—completely instinctual. It

was puzzling because I knew he trusted me with his thoughts, with his hopes and fears.

“Never. I’ve seen bits on television over the years, though.”

He shrugged, a poor attempt at appearing nonchalant. “You’ve been all over the

world. No one’s ever done the St. Patrick’s Day thing with you?”

“Not once.” I studied him, searching for the reason behind this uneasiness. “Some

of my masters participated, but none involved me with their activities.”

Sympathy slipped along the link we shared, began to lower his defenses. “You

were with a few gamblers before me, weren’t you?”

It was a change in subject, but I didn’t fight it. He needed to approach this at his

own pace. “Several.”

“That’s why. Those fancy threads of yours mean you can wear green with a

thought. No way you’d ever get pinched.” He palmed his chest, his face serious, his

eyes playful. “Gamblers hate a stacked deck.”

“You give them too much credit. The truth of the matter is that they simply didn’t

think of me when other forms of entertainment held their attention.”

“What the hell?” he said softly, standing from the chair. “How could anyone

forget you?”

My master lived a life few could imagine. He’d experienced things so terrible that

they’d nearly broken him. Yet his view of the world was still so…pure, so bright.

That was why I wanted to sweep away the shadows currently twining around

him. “If I forget to wear green on the seventeenth”—I approached, my tone light and

teasing—“would you pinch me?”

One Good Year

He broke into a grin. “It’s definitely a stacked deck if we play. Your eyes are green

now—you couldn’t forget if you wanted to.”

“I’d wear sunglasses. And human clothing.”

“Now we’re planning too much.” He laughed. “We’ll be so prepared that neither

of us’ll get pinched.”

Most of his disquiet was already gone. Its source hadn’t been the holiday or me.

Which meant his issue had to be the parade itself.

I could do without the parade; it wasn’t important.

I lifted my hand and ran my knuckles up his jaw, gently pinched the lobe of his

ear.

His laughter faded. “There’s a bar near East Fifty-Second. It’s owned by this group

of guys. Card sharks, old-school. The ground floor’s open to anyone, but the third level

is invitation only. Red used to take me there when I was a kid.”

I slipped my fingers into his hair. “Your uncle.”

He nodded. “Nowadays I have an open invitation. Because of him. Because I’m a

shark in my own right.”

Images flitted into my mind. A worn card table covered in faded felt. Eyes

crinkled with laughter. Skilled, deft hands cutting a deck of cards. “This is where you’d

like to celebrate.”

Moving away from me, he spread his hands. “There’s a big window facing Fifth

Avenue. You’ll be able to see the whole parade pass by. Would that be… Would that be

okay?”

Worried over how I would react, uncertain whether he was doing the right thing. I

hadn’t seen him like this in a long time. “What do you want, Ace?”

“I want you to have fun,” he said, taking me by surprise. I didn’t know why—he

almost always put my desires above his own.

“Ace…”

Rowan McBride

“Y-you’re right. For your first time, we should be on street level in the middle of

all the excitement.” He swallowed. “I can do that with you.” A faint, unsteady grin

shaped his mouth. “I’ll probably have to have a few beers first, but…”

He was trying so hard. All for—

Our link flashed bright, illuminating corners of his psyche I’d never seen before.

“You’re afraid of crowds.”

“N-no.” A muscle ticked in his jaw, and I watched him force the stammer from his

voice. “Anyway, I don’t even know who St. Patrick was. Given that my name’s

Donovan, I know I should, but for some reason I never looked it up. To me it’s just

green beer and shamrocks and bad traff—”

Moving in a burst of Senai speed too fast for him to avoid, I closed the distance

between us and cupped his face in my hands. “This morning, when I asked you to go to

the movies with me, you kept trying to choose an older one—because those theaters are

smaller, and fewer people go to them.”

“I’m telling you, I’m not…” His shoulders dipped, and he closed his eyes a

moment. “Yeah,” he said finally, looking up at me.

I was his Senai. How could I have missed this? Ace had been a loner for most of

his life. Of course he’d be uncomfortable with crowds.

“Listen, Spade. The parade’s two weeks away. Give me a few days to get used

to…”

I wrapped my arms around his body, held him close. “No.”

“No?” he asked, clearly startled. “Did you just break an order while I was in the

middle of giving it?”

My response was to tighten my embrace.

Ace chuckled, his body relaxing against mine. “Sexy.”

It wasn’t supposed to be possible for a Senai to go against the desires of his

master, but I would do it a thousand times if it meant giving him what he needed.

One Good Year

Once, I’d told him I could do anything, and I would do just that. Strip the programming

from my DNA. Cease to be Senai.

Become a man worthy of him.

Rowan McBride

Chapter Four

Ace glanced up from the deck in his hand. “You made a friend? Already?”

Sitting on the sofa, I watched him pace the room as he cut the cards one way, then

another and another. I’d never seen him go through so many variations. All with his left

hand. “His name is Ancel.”

“Wow.” His gaze still on mine, he switched the deck to his other hand and

repeated the exercise in a dozen new ways. “You got his contact info and everything?”

Entranced, I nodded. Even with my enhanced dexterity, I doubted I could handle

the cards half as easily. “He’s also Senai.”

Ace paused. “Seriously?”

“Seriously. But something went wrong with his engineering. He doesn’t have a

master.”

“Sounds more right than wrong to me.” He brought his other hand to the deck,

fanned it out and swept it closed in one smooth, elegant motion. “Not that I don’t enjoy

being your master.”

“I can disobey you again, if you’d like.”

He separated the cards into six equal packets to form a living, revolving hexagon,

then reformed them into a single deck. “If you disobey me because I want you to, aren’t

you just obeying me?”

It had been four days since he “accepted” my proposal. His spirit seemed so much

lighter now. “I’m willing to ignore the paradox if you are.”

One Good Year

Chuckling, he split the cards into five dynamic sections and flipped them hand

over hand. It looked more like juggling than cutting the deck. “Your friend—Ancel.

Okay if I meet him?”

“Of course. When would you like to get together?”

He shuffled the deck, seemingly defying the laws of physics as he moved closer.

“Call and see when’s good for him.”

I lifted an eyebrow. “Now?”

“Now,” he said, taking a seat next to me, still shuffling his cards. “Once he gives

us a day, I’ll make reservations for dinner.”

Perhaps he was keeping his hands busy because he was nervous. But all I sensed

within him was excitement.

I picked up the phone and dialed the number Ancel had given me. He was

amenable to the meeting, and I told him I’d call later that day with the details.

It only occurred to me after I hung up to be curious. “Why do you want us to get

together?”

“Because he’s your friend. As simple as that.”

As simple as that. I’d said those words to him so many times. “Teasing me?”

“Nope. Well, maybe a little.”

His cheerfulness was certainly contagious. “Ah.” I feigned disappointment.

“We’re not even married yet, and you’ve already changed.”

He grinned, sliding closer. “Hey, Spade.”

Impossible not to return that smile. “Yes?”

With one hand, he cut the deck. Somehow the action sent a card flying from the

middle, and I instinctively plucked it out of the air. When I saw its face, I realized it

could not have been an accident, and everything inside of me warmed.

The Ace of Spades.

Rowan McBride

“You are the most remarkable master,” I said, fondly running my finger down the

surface of the card.

“But bad husband material. Me being a degenerate gambler and all.”

Still playful. Still happy. As if today he had no worries whatsoever. Meeting his

gaze, I held up the card he had given me. “You are my Ace. That’s all I require.”

His hands finally stopped moving. “Fuck, you always say the—”

I leaned forward and caught his mouth with mine. Ace groaned and dropped his

cards, letting them scatter to the floor as he twisted his hands in my shirt. Arousal

sluiced through my nerves, sank into every fiber of my body. I’d meant this to end at a

kiss, but already I was removing his T-shirt and urging him to fall back into the

cushions.

“What do you want?” I asked, my voice husky as I crawled up his body.

He grinned. “What do you think I want?”

I took the card still locked between my fingers and grazed its edge over his lower

lip.

The teasing smile gave way for a more intimate expression. “You,” he said softly.

“I want you.”

My muscles drew taut with the desire to join, to make us one, but I forced myself

to slow my actions. To do things properly. I drew the card down his throat, scraped it

over his nipples. His back arched as he tried to get closer to my touch.

I lowered my head and soothed the sensitized skin of his chest with my mouth,

my tongue. His breathing shallowed when I sucked on one nipple, licked the other. The

card fell from my fingers as I spanned his waist with both hands, caressing the faint

ridges of muscle that appeared when his stomach tightened. Gliding upward, I kneaded

the gentle rise of his pecs, using experience and my link with him to touch where he

wanted me most.

His head tipped back, and I realized he’d stopped breathing.

One Good Year

So much passion. At times he drowned in it. I kissed the curve of his neck, gave

him a gentle nip to get him breathing again.

Ace hissed and grabbed the arm of the sofa behind him.

“Wouldn’t you rather hold on to me?”

“You can’t get naked if I’m hanging on to you,” he said through gritted teeth.

I stopped short, then chuckled as I straightened. “You’re right,” I told him,

unbuttoning my shirt. “That is a terrible failure on the part of your Senai.”

Color spilled into his pale skin. “Hey, do you think you could…ah…” He

scratched his nose, glanced away. “Instead of saying that… Could you maybe say”—he

met my gaze, a smile playing at his lips—“you’re my fiancé?”

This man stared down the best gamblers in the world without flinching, never

revealing what was on his mind. Yet making a simple request of me unveiled a wealth

of nervous emotion. I dropped my shirt onto the floor and removed my belt. “I’d rather

not have any failures on my record as your fiancé so soon.”

The smile pulled into a full grin. “You could never fail at that.”

I felt my skin warm, and I wondered if I was blushing. If so, it would be my first

time.

What a pleasant feeling.

Slipping my fingers into his hair, I leaned down and nipped at his ear. “I’m your

fiancé.” My tongue darted out, making him shiver. “Is that how you want me to say it?”

He nodded, running his hands up my chest, around to my back.

“And after we’re married?” I trailed kisses along the line of his jaw as I unfastened

the catch in my slacks. “Shall I say ‘I’m your husband’?”

His normally light, graceful fingers dug into the muscles beneath them.

A few words were all that were required to get inside this man who should have

been jaded to his core. I treasured the privilege, even as I took his mouth and delved

into him in a more literal sense.

Rowan McBride

I coaxed his tongue into a carnal dance as I removed my slacks, relishing the

caress of his lips, exhilarated by the feel of his skin along mine.

He groaned into my mouth, hooking a leg around my waist. His body started

when I rubbed myself against him, and he broke the kiss, staring up at me with wide

eyes. “Where’re your pants?”

“On the floor.” My mouth crooked as I brushed my nose over his. “Isn’t that what

you wanted?”

“Yeah, but…” He glanced down at the pile of clothes atop a sea of diamonds and

clubs, hearts and spades. “When did you…?”

He’d yet to realize just how deeply he fell into me during sex, and I wanted to

keep that bit of magic alive for him. So I ignored the question, choosing instead to focus

on his pleasure. Sucking on his neck, biting lightly on that tight ridge of muscle rising

out of his shoulder. I massaged the thigh wrapped around me until his leg fell to the

sofa; he drove his heels into the cushions to push his dick into the hard muscles of my

abs.

I moved higher, rocking us together, groaning in approval as my cock slid against

his. He dragged in a deep breath, and I took the opportunity to slide my middle finger

into his mouth.

Ace grasped my shoulders as he sucked on me, as he mirrored the rhythm of my

hips with his own.

Bracing my weight on one hand, I pushed myself up. His hips followed mine, and

I pulled my other hand from his mouth to cup his ass, then held him against me for

several heated seconds before searching out his pucker with my wet finger.

He gasped when I teased his hole. “W-wait. I want to—”

“We will.” My hand firmed as I pushed my finger inside. “Don’t worry.”

His legs shook as he tried to keep my pace; his hands gripped tighter as he tried to

keep us together.

One Good Year

“Relax.” My finger stroked deeper, seeking that part of him that made him call my

name. “I’ve got you.”

He settled into my palm, and I held him easily, quickening my rhythm, increasing

the friction between our cocks.

“Spade.”

There it was. The sound of his voice rippled through my muscles as I captured his

mouth. My finger thrust deep inside him, the length of him a taut bow arching off the

sofa. He convulsed, and I swallowed his next cry as his orgasm dragged mine along

with it, drenching our stomachs in liquid heat.

Gentling the kiss, I removed my hand from his backside. Tremors of ecstasy

thrilled through him, and I eased his body downward with the weight of my own,

using my strength to steady him. Needs met, desires satisfied, his love for me floated to

the surface, clear and bright and easy to read.

Wanting to see more, I raised my head to look into those alluring eyes.

Exhaustion drowsed through him. “Good for you?” he asked, his hands still on

my shoulders.

I nodded.

His grip loosened, and his fingers trailed down my torso. “You came with me.”

“We’ve been over this. You want it; I give it to you.”

“Did you want it?”

I brushed my lips over his temple. “Yes.” Although, truth be told, I also wanted

more. It was a confusing sort of yearning because I couldn’t fathom what else there

could be. Trying to puzzle it out, I retrieved my shirt and wiped us both clean.

“Stay close,” he murmured, his hand on my wrist.

The sweet little command settled everything inside of me, and I dropped the shirt.

His afterglow infused me as I shifted position to lie on my side.

Rowan McBride

Ace nestled closer, and I draped an arm over him. I’d expected him to drift into

sleep, but he spent the next hour running his fingers along my skin, breathing in my

scent.

Taking me in.

This was the “more” I hadn’t been able to decipher, and my master had given it to

me unconsciously, unaware of his own power.

Without the faintest idea that his love had transformed my very existence.

* * * *

“Yo, what do you think of this tie?”

I leaned against the doorframe and looked him over. I’d never seen Ace wear a

suit before, and I’d been unprepared for how taken I would be by the sight. “Better than

the last,” I replied, enthralled by the sleek lines of his charcoal jacket and slacks. The jet-

black shirt he wore underneath added an element of sin I found surprisingly sexy.

He tossed the other tie he’d been holding onto our bed. “Better than the first?”

We’d been at this for the better part of an hour. “Slightly.”

Blowing out a hard breath, he opened a slim box and pulled out yet another.

“How about this?”

I glanced around at the clothes thrown haphazardly throughout the room, most

purchased this morning. “What’s gotten into you? It’s only dinner.”

“Dinner with your first friend. Which means it’s dinner with your best friend. Who

happens to be an alien from another planet checking up on you to make sure you’re

okay.”

He wanted to impress Ancel.

I crossed the room and gently removed both ties from his fingers. “Be yourself.”

The bands of silk joined the others on the bed, and I unfastened the buttons at his collar.

“Let the chips fall where they may.”

“What if he cashes out before I even get to play a hand?”

One Good Year

At times, the lens through which he saw his world could be utterly charming.

“First, remember that we’re going to a restaurant, not a poker game.” I smoothed my

hands over his shoulders. “Second, I only met him a week ago. If it turns out he doesn’t

like you, then he’s obviously not the sort of friend I was searching for.”

“He might have good reason to—”

“Ace,” I interrupted, disliking that line of thought. “You were so ready a few days

ago that you insisted I call and arrange this introduction. What’s changed since then?”

Trying to be a better guy. “I’m ready. I’m ready.” He squared his shoulders. “Let’s

go.” But what if I can’t…

He’d made jokes about being bad “husband material,” but it turned out a part of

him believed it.

“You are a good master,” I said, caressing his cheek. “And a good man.”

His skin began to redden, and I distracted him from his embarrassment by lifting

my hand. At my silent command, thread spilled from my sleeve, pooling in my palm

and weaving itself into a silk handkerchief. I tucked the folded square into his front

pocket, making sure that the visible material formed a perfect triangle.

“Cool,” said Ace. “Will it actually stick?”

“As long as we stay within reasonable distance of each other.”

Ace looked down at the bit of silk covering his heart. “This is a nice color.”

“It matches your hair.”

He snorted. “You gotta get your eyes checked, Spade. My hair’s rust…”

I pressed a kiss to his forehead.

His original response drifted away as his voice slid to a whisper. “We should get

going.”

“Mm-hmm.” I brushed my lips across the bridge of his nose.

His hand curled around my arm. “We’re already running late. And we still have

to call the cab.”

Rowan McBride

“Perhaps we can take the car,” I murmured, nuzzling his temple.

“I won that bucket in a game.” Despite the verbal protest, he tilted his head to the

side. “You know I suck at driving.”

I sucked on his ear.

One of his palms moved to my chest, but he didn’t push me away. “Spade…

Shit…that feels good.”

“Just a minute or two,” I said, moving on to his neck. “Give me that, and I’ll do the

driving.”

“You don’t have a license.” He gasped when I licked his skin. “We have to take a

cab, and I want to be on time.”

I paused, then sighed as obedience took precedence over desire. “All right.” I took

his hand and led him out of the bedroom. “Let’s go.”

The humor that sparked in him took me off guard. “You should’ve called my

bluff. I was one kiss away from folding.”

A smile tugged at my lips, but I refused to look over my shoulder. “Always the

consummate card player.”

“Consummate? I think I like that better than ‘degenerate.’”

Shaking my head, I released his hand and fetched his coat before ushering him out

of the suite. There was no reason to be worried about this dinner.

How could anyone not fall in love with Ace?

One Good Year

Chapter Five

We walked into the restaurant and were guided to the dining area by a host who

greeted us by name. Ace rushed ahead to a booth in the back. Out of habit, I suspected.

I took my time, looked around. Sturdy oak tables. Warm lighting. This was his

favorite bar and grill, and that was his favorite booth, hidden away from the rest of the

diners. I’d always thought it was because he valued his privacy. Only now did I realize

it went much deeper than that.

But tonight there were no customers to hide away from. “You really did rent out

the establishment.”

Ace spun. “Too much?”

“No, but it must have been expensive.”

He shrugged, pretending modesty. “My last win was fair to decent.”

Which meant he’d made anywhere between three and five hundred thousand

dollars.

Ace glanced at the booth behind him. “Maybe we should sit by a window or

something.”

An amused voice breezed in before I could respond. “Anywhere is fine by me.”

That sense of familiarity cascaded over me again. “Hello, Ancel.” Turning to face

him, I gestured to the man behind me. “This is Ace, my…” I glanced briefly at the host.

“…partner.”

“Partner?” Ancel grinned. “Is that right?”

Ace moved forward, extending his hand. “Hey. Good to meet you.”

Rowan McBride

The Senai held up a finger, stopping Ace in his tracks, and looked at the host. The

man’s body started before he bowed and left us alone in the dining area.

“Good to meet you, as well,” said Ancel, shaking Ace’s hand. “Nice decision,

clearing this place. We’ll be able to speak more freely.”

“Yeah…” Ace pulled away, his smile faltering.

“Although I realize it must be nice for you in a different way entirely, given how

bad you are with crowds.”

Ace fell back a step, bumping into me.

I took his shoulders and held him close. “Ancel, what…”

He looked into my eyes. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he said, the apology friendly and

seemingly genuine. “Last time we met, I must have neglected to mention that I have

more than one flaw in my system.”

Instinctively, I banded my forearm across Ace’s chest in a protective embrace.

“Another flaw?”

He answered as if I’d asked him about the weather. “The ability to psychically link

with a master is somewhat…fractured in me. The defect allows me to read the thoughts

of the people in my immediate vicinity.”

Ace stiffened.

Concern shaped Ancel’s features, and he dipped his head to catch Ace’s gaze. “I

apologize for unsettling you. Unless I focus, I generally only pick up surface thoughts. If

it makes you feel any better, I learned that bit about you and crowds from Spade’s

mind, not yours.”

Shock killed my voice. I’d promised… I’d sworn never to be my master’s

weakness, yet I’d shared one of his most carefully guarded secrets. Guilt-ridden, I

lowered my head and whispered into Ace’s ear, “I’m sorry. I didn’t—”

“What’re you talking about?” Ace tipped his head back. “Wasn’t your fault.” He

returned his gaze to Ancel. “Wasn’t yours either, from the sound of things.”

One Good Year

Ancel lifted an eyebrow before nodding his thanks. “Spade was right—you’re

very nice. Isn’t that a disadvantage for a gambler?”

“Nah,” said Ace, his easy smile resurfacing. “I’m a different man when the stakes

run high.”

“Are you? I believe I would like to see that.”

Ace tapped his elbow against my stomach. “I’d play you right now, but Spade

made me leave my deck at home.”

Finally I began to relax, and my hold on him loosened.

A waiter arrived, and Ancel pointed to the booth Ace had chosen at the start of the

evening. “Shall we?”

Ace caught my hand and took a seat, pulling me along to sit beside him. Ancel sat

across from us and ordered the house special without looking at the menu. Ace and I

took a little longer with our decisions, and by the time the waiter departed, the mood

had lifted considerably.

“So,” said Ancel, resting his elbows on the table, “tell me about this ‘partnership.’”

* * * *

Ace laughed, drumming his knuckles against the tabletop. “That’s nothing. Right

before I met Spade, I was in this game with a dude named Brandon Sky. God, he was

good and a helluva lot of fun to play, but eventually he was outta cash. So the guy puts

up the ’55 Chevy Bel Air he’s got parked outside.” Spreading his hands wide, he shook

his head. “I shouldn’t have let him, because I sure as hell didn’t deserve a car that

cherry—even though I have a license, I don’t drive. But the matchstick says this ride’s

worth a hundred grand, and I really want to keep playing, so I take the marker.”

Ancel listened intently, his fingers curled around the stem of a wineglass.

“I have three nines and two deuces, so I figure I’m green.” Ace crossed his

forearms on the table and dropped his head onto them. “The sonovabitch had a royal

flush!” He groaned and straightened in his seat. “Odds of that were…wow.” A smile

Rowan McBride

played on his lips, and his eyes went distant. “Tide turned. He damned near cleaned me

out. If I hadn’t played wild on an inside straight an hour later, he would have.”

“So you won?”

“Yeah.” Ace took a long drink from a bottle of beer. “Fucking amazing.”

Those engaging eyes turned skeptical. “You sound like you’d play this man

again.”

“Hell yes.” Wistfulness stole through him, and he stared down at his bottle. “Last I

heard, he was out of the country, though.”

I threaded my fingers through his hair. Ace was a man who loved to play. That joy

set him apart from the jaded gamblers I’d known. It was what had drawn me to him.

Warmth lazed through his entire body.

“So what do you do with this car you don’t drive?”

He shrugged, his gaze still on the bottle. “It’s got a space in the parking complex

attached to my building. The sucker’s so big that if I ever lose the penthouse, I’d park it

on the street and live in it until my next affair with Luck.”

“Did you win your apartment in a game as well?”

“Yeah, but that story’s not nearly as fun.”

Ancel watched him a few moments, set his wine aside. “You are quite the

character, Ace.” He shifted his gaze to me and grinned. “Must be fun, living with him.”

“It is,” I said without hesitation.

That grin didn’t waver. “I’m afraid I can’t allow this to continue.”

“What?” Ace’s head shot up. “What can’t you allow to continue?”

“The two of you. Together. It doesn’t work.”

“Where do you get off—”

“Don’t get me wrong, Ace. It’s not that I don’t like you—you’re a likable guy.

You’re just an unsuitable master for Spade.”

One Good Year

The protectiveness I’d experienced when he’d first read our minds surged, and I

sobered, facing down my new friend. “Ace is the best master I’ve ever had.”

Ancel chuckled. “Given some of the dregs I encountered while tracking you here,

I’m willing to concede that point. But he’s too unstable, Spade. All too willing to gamble

away his car, his home. Eventually all he’ll have left is you, and he’ll risk losing his

Senai to get back on his feet. To have another ‘affair’ with Luck.”

“No.” Ace slammed his palms onto the table. “I never bet what I’m unwilling to

lose in the first place. No matter how good the pot, no matter how good the cards. And

I’m for damned sure unwilling to lose Spade.”

Ancel appeared to be thoroughly amused. “Oh, that sets my mind at ease. So

when you gamble your home away, you and your Senai will live together in your cozy

little car, then? Where will you go when you lose the car trying to regain a home?”

Doubts skirted along the edges of Ace’s consciousness, and his body stilled. “I

won’t lose our home.”

“Because you value it enough to keep it, or because you’re just that good at

poker?”

Ace stared at him a long moment; then his voice dropped, sounding less sure. “If

losing the penthouse means losing Spade, then I can’t bet it,” he said, as if trying to

work it out for himself.

“And what about when you lose all your money and can’t make the payments on

your lovely penthouse?”

My master had a tendency to live in the present, as did most gamblers. Now he

was worried. About the future. About me.

And it was weakening our bond.

“Ace. Please.” Grasping his chin, I forced him to face me. “You’re better now than

you’ve ever been, but if you were to somehow end up on the street, let me keep you

warm. Safe.”

Rowan McBride

Gradually his worries faded, as did his awareness of the restaurant, of Ancel. My

eyes became everything to him, and he reached up, trailed his fingers down my cheek.

“You have no idea what’s good for you,” he teased.

Ancel’s voice cracked the world we had made for ourselves. “Because that’s how

he’s designed.”

Ace’s fingers paused, slipped from my face. But our link was still strong when he

looked at Ancel. “I’ll do right by him.”

All amusement disappeared from Ancel’s expression. “I met a great many men

like you while searching for Spade. All were excellent at whatever games they called

their own; all believed they were in control. Yet he’s changed hands more often than

any Senai I’ve ever found, because in the end they were like any other addicts—the only

thing they were interested in ‘doing right’ was getting their next fix.”

“Enough.” My voice reverberated throughout the room, snapping their attention to

me. I leveled my gaze at Ancel. “Only my master can break his bond with me, and I

wish to stay by his side. This ‘rescue’ attempt of yours is misguided at best, and you

should leave.” I shook my head. “There’s nothing you can do.”

“Oh,” said Ancel, the corner of his mouth lifting in a dangerous grin, “you’d be

surprised.”

A waiter entered the room, and Ancel sighed.

The young man stopped short, glancing at the tray balanced on his hand “I’m

sorry.” He met our gazes. “Somehow I forgot that I brought you fresh drinks a few

seconds ago.” He bowed his head in apology and hurried out of the dining area.

“I hate interruptions,” murmured Ancel.

My blood ran cold as I stared at him.

Ace frowned, confused. “What’s with him?” He held up his bottle and gave it a

little shake. “I’m dry, and so is Spade.”

One Good Year

“Sorry.” Ancel retrieved his wineglass and took a sip. “Did I forget to mention I

can manipulate thoughts as well? Honestly speaking, I can make you do anything I

want, which comes in handy for the little things. If it’s important, though, I usually try

reason first. Especially when a Senai is involved.”

Apprehension permeated Ace, but outwardly he was calm, level. “That’s

impossible.”

Ancel smirked. “This from a man who owns a shape-shifting alien sex slave.”

“You can’t make me give up Spade.”

“I can do exactly that.” Ancel stood and put on the coat he’d draped over the back

of the booth. “Up.”

Ace’s eyes rounded as he rose to his feet. I felt his panic—he hadn’t wanted to

stand.

“You too, Spade.”

And I followed suit. “Ancel,” I told him, my tone warning. “Do not act on

whatever you’re planning.”

He glanced at me, mildly surprised, and the psychic hold on us loosened. “I’m

doing what’s best for you, Spade. You and I both know that all he really thinks about is

that deck of his. Even now his fingers are itching to hold his precious cards.”

Ace, barely keeping his anger in check, held his ground. “That’s not true.”

“I’m mistaken? Then, please, tell me why this Senai is called Spade? Did you name

him after a gardening tool?”

This man could read minds, but he didn’t truly see the humans around him. “Ace

loves me.”

“True. But dangerous because his love of the game is far more enduring.

Eventually it will supersede any feelings he has for you.”

Rowan McBride

“Shut it,” said Ace. “You’ve got a few tricks up your sleeve? So what? Spade

unlocked something inside me that…” He blew out a long, slow breath. “I’m free, for

the first time in my life, because of him. No way I’m gonna fuck that up.”

Ancel was unimpressed. “Please. Just last year you managed to lose six million

dollars in one night. You’re one bad hand away from destroying yourself. Then you’ll

bet Spade, you’ll lose him, and yet another human will know that we exist.” He turned

to me. “If I could keep tabs on you twenty-four-seven, I’d let you have your fun. Believe

me. But I split my time between watching over the Senai I’ve found and searching for

the ones who are still lost. It would be irresponsible to leave you here.”

Responsibility. The word echoed in my mind, but it hadn’t come from me or the

other Senai. I glanced down at Ace.

He kept his gaze locked on Ancel. “Spade is mine. It’s my job to be responsible for

him.” He shook his head. “Not yours. Not anymore.”

Ancel exhaled heavily. “It’s not up for debate.”

“You can’t just—”

“Look”—that friendly smile curved his mouth—“it’ll be painless. I promise. It’s

just a matter of erasing every memory you two have of being together. By the time I’m

done, you won’t love each other; you won’t care about each other; you won’t even

recognize each other. You’ll be strangers.”

Ace’s life flashed through my mind which such force that it caused me physical

pain.

“Don’t you fuck with my memories,” he said, his fists clenched tight, a rage in his

eyes I hadn’t thought possible. “Don’t you fuck with my—”

He lunged. I caught him and snatched him back just before he reached Ancel.

“Ace!” He fought my hold, and I tightened my embrace, raising my gaze to the other

Senai. “Apologize, Ancel.”

“For what? Trying to be kind?”

One Good Year

The only thing that prevented me from allowing Ace to lay a hand on him was the

knowledge that this man could kill my master. “His only relative is ill and rarely

remembers him. Apologize, or I’ll come after you myself.”

Ancel stared at Ace a long moment, the amusement fading from his features. He

shifted his gaze to mine. “You’re no match for me. You know that, don’t you?”

“I can do anything for Ace. Even kill one of my own kind.”

Another silence passed between us. He could read my thoughts, so he must have

realized I was prepared to act on my threat.

“What a perfect Senai you are,” he said fondly, sliding his hands into his pockets.

“All right. I’m sorry. Will you forgive me if I grant him a chance to win you?”

Ace stilled. “What…what do you mean?”

“Poker. Five-card draw is your favorite, right? I realize my talents skew the odds a

bit, but Spade’s a high enough ‘stake’, isn’t he?”

The rage inside Ace burned hotter than ever, and I knew I couldn’t let him go. But

his voice was…oddly composed.

“I’m not ever betting Spade. You hear me?”

Ancel shrugged, unbothered by the answer. “As you wish. I’ll give you two a

week or so to bid farewell to each other. The offer’s open till then, but if you don’t play,

I’ll collect Spade for sure.” He looked us over, his gaze resting briefly on my arms

wrapped tight around my master. “I can leave your memories intact and simply break

your link, if you want.” Hands never leaving his pockets, he leaned forward, just

slightly. “But believe me, I’ll shatter your bond so thoroughly that you’ll never be able

to reestablish it.”

Ace’s next words were directed at me. “Spade, let me go.”

No. I held him closer. I have to protect you. To keep you safe.

“It’s okay.” His palm curved over my wrist. “Trust me.”

Uneasy, hesitant, I released him.

Rowan McBride

He smoothed down his jacket and brushed a piece of lint from his sleeve. “Coat.”

Without thinking, I retrieved his coat and helped him into it.

“Yours too.”

My nerves began to settle as I obeyed.

“Follow me.”

And I began to think that was his intention even as I nodded.

Ace walked forward, pausing only briefly when he reached Ancel. “See you in a

week,” he said, then strode out of the restaurant without looking back.

We were a block away from the other Senai before I found my voice. “Ace?”

The anger simmering just below the surface flared to life. “That asshole. Who the

hell does he think he is?”

“I’m sorry. I had no idea he would—”

“Acting like he knows you…me…us.”

“I’ve never seen powers like—”

“And what the fuck was up with threatening to take our memories away?” He

stopped moving, looked up at me. “Can you wipe my mind through our link?”

“N-no. I don’t know how Ancel—”

He started walking again. “Listening to my stories like he was all interested, like

he was having fun. Then turning my own words against me to say I’m… What was it he

called me? Undignified? Unworthy?”

“Unsuitable,” I said, doing my best to follow his line of thought. “But you’re

not—”

“What’s it to him that I’m a gambler? I’m good at it!” His anger spiked. “He called

me unstable too, didn’t he?”

I didn’t want to answer, but he shot a dark gaze in my direction, and the word

was out before I could stop it. “Yes.”

One Good Year

“Fucking-A. I’m unstable? The whole economy’s unstable. I’m a goddamned shark

with more money than I know what to do with!”

I’d never seen him so furious, not even when he first discovered I was not human.

“And we’re happy, so who the hell cares how we got there!” He stopped, his voice

dropping as he met my gaze again. “You are happy, aren’t you?”

This past year had been the most extraordinary of my life. “Yes, I’m happy.”

The anger inside of him began to burn off. “Then that prick can just screw the fuck

off. He’s not taking you from me.”

Ancel could read minds, change minds, and control our bodies as if they were

little more than puppets. “He’s dangerous.”

“No shit.”

Knowing I had to make him grasp the severity of the situation, I pushed the issue.

“No, Ace. He’s really, really dangerous. A defective Senai with abilities I cannot

comprehend. Who knows what other flaws have occurred in his system? There’s no

way to predict what he can do to us.” My voice stalled, and I fought past the lump in

my throat. “To you.”

Something shifted in him then. Passion still burned bright, but the whole of his

attention focused on me. “You’re scared.”

“I don’t know how I can stop—”

He grabbed my head and tugged me downward. “Look at me. Look into my

eyes.”

My breath caught, but I obeyed.

“Do you want to stay with me?” His grip tightened. “Always?”

“Yes,” I whispered.

“Are you sure? If you are, then say it that way.”

“I want to stay with you as long as you want—”

“None of that Senai bullshit. The truth, Spade.”

Rowan McBride

Tears pricked at my eyelids. “I love you. I want to be with you forever. And I

fucking hate going to the movies alone.”

That fierce expression vanished, and he broke into a grin. “Okay.” He touched our

foreheads together. “You’ve been everything to me. This time I’ll be something for you.

You’re not going anywhere.”

“But Ancel—”

“I don’t care what crazy alien powers that bastard has. I’ll figure something out.

Trust me.”

The resolution inside him—it was absolute. I was powerless against it. “All right.”

“Stop worrying.”

A smile ghosted onto my lips as I did my best to obey my master, drawing him

into my arms and burying my face in the curve of his shoulder. The tension eased out of

my muscles.

“That’s it,” he said, slipping his arms around me, the last of his anger fading away.

“Let’s go home.”

Home.

No matter what Ancel said, that was where I belonged.

One Good Year

Chapter Six

The door slammed behind us, and I wasted no time stripping Ace of his coat. He

dragged mine off just as quickly, dropped it to the floor, and moved on to my tie.

As soon as the tie joined our coats, I shrugged out of my suit jacket, my eyes

drifting shut, my mouth never leaving his. I unfastened his shirt buttons while his

nimble fingers undid mine, and in seconds our shirts were gone as well.

Ace kicked off his shoes, and I scooped him into my arms. “Where?” I asked, the

question little more than a rumble as I grazed my teeth over his ear.

“Bed.” His fingers raked the breadth of my shoulders. “Definitely the bed.”

I strode through the hall, through the living room. Ace sucked kisses up my neck,

and I groaned, quickening my pace to the bedroom.

“Wait,” he said, gripping me tight when I would have laid him onto the mattress.

I paused, content for the moment to lose myself in his mouth. Ace tangled his

hands in my hair, deepening the kiss, sucking on my tongue.

He shifted, and I set him on his feet, breathing hard as I stared down at him. His

mussed hair, those full, well-kissed lips… I desired nothing more than to taste every

inch of his skin, but Ace wanted to appreciate my body, so I forced myself to stand

straight, arms by my sides.

His heavy-lidded gaze swept over my torso, and he made a sound of approval as

he trailed his fingers through the deep crevice between my pecs. He traveled

downward, tracing each and every one of my abdominal muscles before sliding back up

to palm my biceps. I flexed into his hands, overflowing them, and his pleasure was my

pleasure.

But it wasn’t enough. I wanted so much more.

Rowan McBride

Leaning forward, he breathed warm air over my nipples, catching first one, then

the other between his teeth.

A muscle in my jaw ticked, and I locked my body down, determined to allow him

his fill.

“Do you like this?” he crooned, dusting my chest with gossamer kisses that

threatened to snap my control.

“Let me show you how much,” I said, my voice husky but thankfully not

pleading.

“Not yet.” He slid his arms around my waist, laid his head on my chest. “Not yet.”

Several moments passed before I realized what he was doing. “You’re listening to

my heart.”

He nodded against me.

“Why?”

One of his hands glided up my spine. “Strong. Steady.”

Knowing I wasn’t supposed to move didn’t stop me from lifting my arm, from

slipping my fingers into his hair. “The sound makes you feel safe.”

“It makes me feel…everything.”

His ear was over my heart. I was exactly the right height for him to listen to it.

Which meant…

Which meant the change in my size had nothing to do with him needing me less

and everything to do with this.

The last of my control disintegrated, and I swept him onto the bed.

“Whoa,” said Ace, his eyes wide. “Never seen you this fired up.”

I stepped out of my slacks and crawled over him. “Forgive me.” I kissed his

throat, his shoulder, his chest. “Usually I hold back.” Working downward, I licked a

trail over his body, flicked my tongue into the shallow basin of his navel. “Forgive me,”

I repeated, tearing open his pants and pulling them off his legs.

One Good Year

“Wait a minute.” Ace grabbed my arms and tugged me up to meet his gaze.

“You’ve been holding back? Like, since we met?”

Now was not the time for this conversation. But I bit back a growl and managed a

nod, bracing my arms on the mattress as I held myself over him.

A lopsided grin curved his mouth. “Well, don’t do that.”

My body shook as I stared into those warm brown eyes. “You…like me this way?”

“Fuck yeah.” He arched his back, pressed his hard cock against me. “Been trying

to figure out how to tilt you for damned near a year.”

I was Senai. I was engineered to serve a master. But something inside me insisted

it went deeper than that. Ace dragged free emotions that shouldn’t have been possible,

and when I could scarcely comprehend my own passion, he embraced the wildness.

Shifting my weight to one hand, I slid the other behind his neck. “I was made for

you.”

He ran his palms up my torso, tilting his head back for a kiss. “Same here.”

For him, it was just a fact. For me, it was a revelation that had taken the better part

of my life to achieve.

I crushed our mouths together, reining in my strength while unleashing the full

force of my desire for him. He swore, rubbing his body against mine.

Want you inside me.

And I so very much wanted to bury myself inside him.

I flipped him over, grazed my teeth along his shoulder, stroked my tongue over

the base of his neck.

Ace grabbed a pillow and pushed himself to his knees.

My mouth brushed his back as I nipped at his shoulder blades. My hand curved

over his ass, kneading him until he groaned.

“Fuck,” he whispered.

Rowan McBride

All too happy to accommodate him, I reached out and opened a drawer in the

nightstand beside us, nuzzling his apple-scented hair as I retrieved a small bottle. Using

one hand, I flicked it open and turned it upside down, then squeezed the clear fluid into

my palm before dropping the bottle to the mattress.

I moved away, loath to separate us as I slicked the lube over my dick. To

compensate, I pressed my lips to the small of his back and worked a finger into the line

of his ass, caressing his pucker, preparing his body for a more intimate connection.

His sleek muscles writhed under my touch, and I removed my hand to guide my

cock to his hole. Leaning forward, I levered myself over his back and eased in.

Tight. Hot.

My skin slid against his as I pushed deeper. Ace sought out the hand I had braced

against the mattress, entwining our fingers just as I buried myself to the hilt.

He turned his head, and I caught his mouth. Traces of the beer he’d had at dinner

intoxicated me.

With my free hand, I skimmed up the taut muscles of his stomach, tweaked his

nipples. His chest jumped, and I soothed him with the pads of my fingers.

Ace broke the kiss and pressed his forehead into the pillow beneath him.

I drew myself out of his ass as far as I could stand before plunging into him again.

The ring of muscle around my cock tightened, welcoming me home, trying to keep me

there.

Spade. I want more.

Coherent thought? I wasn’t doing my job, then.

I brushed his nipples once more before gliding my hand over his sweat-slicked

skin and curling my fingers around his dick. I timed my strokes to match the thrust of

my hips, flooding his body with pleasure.

Soon my name was the only thought coursing through his mind.

One Good Year

Quickening my pace, I murmured my approval when he moved with me, pushing

back onto my cock, forward into my hand.

His mind blended with mine; my body blended with his. Our bond wove through

us, around us, burning bright, pulling tight.

Making us one.

We came, a spinning, writhing mass of blind sensation.

Ace collapsed, gasping for breath, shuddering with ecstasy. I fell to the mattress

beside him, dragging him against my body, stroking his hair, soothing the tempest

inside us both.

“Ace,” I rasped, kissing the top of his head, cherishing him as I drew him closer.

“My Ace.”

He nuzzled my chest, covered my heart with his hand. “Never letting you go.”

I smiled, trusting him completely.

Rowan McBride

Chapter Seven

I discarded four cards and replaced them with four from the deck.

“I know it’s called five-card draw, but if your hand’s that bad, you should just

fold.”

He looked so relaxed, sitting cross-legged on the carpet as he played with me.

Hard to believe our dinner with Ancel had been three days ago. We hadn’t discussed it

at all since then. “It’s much better now.”

Ace smirked. “If you say so.”

Somehow he always knew when I was bluffing. But this was different. Something

was odd.

“What are you doing?”

He didn’t seem surprised by the question as he stared intently at his cards.

“Building a special wall.”

This… I still didn’t understand. “A new wall? But my connection to you hasn’t

changed.”

“Good.” He plucked a card from his hand and tapped it thoughtfully against his

mouth. “Good.”

The last time he’d deliberately put up a wall, I’d nearly lost him. Despite the

strength of our link, I felt myself go cold. “Do you plan to play Ancel after all?”

“Eventually,” he said, discarding the stray card and taking one from the top of the

deck. “If he ever gets it through his thick skull that I’m not betting you.”

He wanted to play Ancel. He had no intention of betting me. What on earth was

he planning? “Ace—”

One Good Year

“Raise you.” He tossed two blue chips into the pot and finally met my gaze, a

playful grin on his lips. “You gonna call?”

That grin was full of mischief and daunting determination. I glanced down at my

hand, then closed the fan of cards and set them facedown on the carpet. “Fold.”

His expression didn’t change. “What’d you have?”

I flipped over the cards and spread them out. “A pair of sixes. What about you?”

He put down his hand. “Shouldn’t have let me psych you out.”

Two of hearts, five of diamonds, three of clubs, seven of clubs, and a jack of

spades. I glanced up in surprise. “You have nothing.”

“Yep. Hand full of blanks.”

“But you only discarded one card.”

“That’s what we sharks call a bluff, Spade.”

A bluff. He hadn’t been able to bluff me for…God…six months now. “How—”

“Let me ask you something.”

My own question whispered away as I nodded.

“You and me.” His fingers gestured back and forth between us. “What we have—

it’s strong?”

At the moment, I couldn’t read his thoughts or his emotions. But our actual link?

“Stronger than ever.”

He glanced at his cards, slid his gaze back to me. “The day we had that blowout

with Ancel…”

“Yes?” I prompted, glad to finally talk about it.

“You said you hated going to the movies alone.”

Startled, I straightened, unsure where he meant to go with this. “Ah. I…”

Rowan McBride

“I’m sorry,” said Ace, his eyes steady. “I didn’t know those orders were hurting

you. I was just curious.”

I frowned. “Curious?”

“You want what I want. You like what I like.” He shook his head. “If we go

together, then your opinion of the movie would match mine, right? So I figured by

sending you alone, I’d get to find out what you thought without my feelings

overshadowing yours. I was curious about what we had in common, what we didn’t.”

He leaned forward. “I wanted to get to know you.”

All this time, Ace had been trying to get closer to me. I’d been the one pushing him

away.

“I love you,” he said, his face serious, unblushing. “I don’t say it nearly enough,

but I do.”

“You don’t have to say it. I can feel—”

“But I should still say the words. I should put them out there and make sure you

hear it. Like you do with me.”

I swallowed, rubbed at my chest. He was systematically shedding his inhibitions

and forcing me to shed ones I hadn’t even known I had. It was…frightening. I didn’t

know what to do with this new state of being.

“It’s been a good year, don’t you think? Not counting the psychotic alien trying to

break us up.”

Wait. Please. “Don’t say good-bye, Ace.”

He grinned. “Does it feel like I’m saying good-bye?”

My hand paused on my chest, over my heart. Our link. It wasn’t just a thread

tying us together anymore. It was an energy that permeated every muscle, every nerve.

It sank into my very cells, rewriting laws I’d always believed absolute.

One Good Year

And him. Burned but brave. Flawed but incalculably strong. Careful with his love

but willing to give it all to me.

I’d always seen these things, but for the first time I truly understood them.

Understood him.

“You’re right,” I said softly. “It’s been a very good year.”

Rowan McBride

Chapter Eight

The bar was a sea of green. Green hats, green shirts, green beer. People were

singing and laughing and pinching each other.

A group of men barreled by us, and I hooked an arm around Ace’s waist, pulling

him against my body and out of their way. Although I still couldn’t sense his thoughts

or emotions, I could feel him shaking with anxiety. Wondering why he’d insisted on

doing this, I lowered my head and spoke into his ear. “Let’s go home. We can watch the

parade on television.”

He met my gaze, a trembling smile on his mouth. “We’ve gotten this far. We can

make it across the room.”

We. I’d never get tired of hearing that.

Brushing a thumb over his lips, I waited for him to settle as well as he could. Then

I took his hand and straightened. “Stay close,” I instructed, heading toward the

nondescript door on the other side of the bar, making sure no one jostled him. One man

tried to pinch Ace’s arm, and I grasped his wrist, preventing the contact and gently

guiding him out of our path.

“I can’t believe I forgot to wear green today,” muttered Ace.

I tried not to laugh. “I forgot too, if it’s any consolation.”

“Yeah, but no one’s pinching you because you have those bright-ass eyes.”

I suspected it had more to do with my size than a respect for color, but I let him

have his moment.

We reached the door, and I pulled him in front of me, bracing my hands on each

side of him to form a protective cage with my body. Ace turned his head to look at me,

more relaxed now than he had been since we left home. “Thanks, Spade.”

One Good Year

Seeing him this way eased some of my own concern. “You’re welcome.”

A roar of laughter filled the room, and Ace quickly fished a chain out of his

pocket.

“You have a key?” I asked, more to take his mind off the crowd around us than

from a need to know.

His hand steadied as he slid the key into its lock. “Perk of an open invite.” The

door swung open, and he pulled me into a small enclosure at the base of a flight of

stairs, wasting no time shutting the door behind us.

The noise dropped to little more than a muffled hum of excitement, and Ace

shoved the key into his pocket, leaned against the wall, and tipped his head back.

I watched him take several deep, shuddering breaths. “You shouldn’t have put

yourself through this for me.”

“What are you talking about? The hard part’s over.” He straightened and squared

his shoulders. “It’s your first St. Patrick’s Day. I want to share it with you.”

Pretending confusion, I crossed my arms over my chest. “You didn’t try nearly

this hard during Christmas or New Year’s. You forgot Valentine’s Day altogether.”

He raised his hands—in apology or surrender, I couldn’t quite tell. “Valentine’s

Day—totally my fault. And I probably shouldn’t have scheduled a game on New Year’s

Eve. But…” His arms fell to his sides. “Christmas was fucking great.”

My pretended confusion turned genuine. “Really? All we did was curl up on the

couch and watch the lights on the tree.”

A faint, sentimental smile curved his lips. “I hadn’t had a Christmas tree in a long

time. Then one day I come home and there you are, carefully hanging ornaments. Like

you knew exactly where each one should go. I didn’t want to touch it—I didn’t want to

mess it up—but you put an ornament into my hands anyway. I remember it was a little

bell. Simple. Silver. In that second…” He lifted his head. “It was the first time I felt like

you and me were family, and I liked that feeling. A whole lot.”

Rowan McBride

In one short week, he had told me so much. Freely, without reservation. In

response, I found myself sharing with him as well, even when I disagreed with him. It

made me feel…complete.

I cupped his chin, lowered my head.

He grabbed my ear and gave it a hard pinch.

Straightening, I stared at him in shock, wondering what on earth I’d done to earn

that so soon after his confession.

Ace grinned and pointed a finger at me. “Your eyes were closed.”

I burst into soft, affectionate laughter. “You caught me.”

“C’mon,” he said, heading up the stairs. “Or you’re gonna miss the parade.”

“Who are these men, exactly?” I asked, following him.

“They ruled the circuits, long time ago. According to my uncle, no one could beat

them back then. Now they own this place and shoot the shit with each other up top.”

He caught my gaze as he turned a corner to climb another flight of stairs. “I know I

called them sharks before, but don’t use that word around them. They’re seriously old-

school, and they call themselves card sharps.”

“Sharps? I’ve heard that term before.”

“Not the way they use it. According to them, sharks are predators, and they never

stop moving, never stop hunting that next kill. Sharps play smart and”—Ace

chuckled—“play for fun.”

“If that’s the distinction, then why don’t you call yourself a sharp?”

“Because it’s stupid. Every one of those guys wouldn’t hesitate to cut you down to

nothing with the slice of a card. How’s that any different from a shark chewing you up

and spitting you out?” He paused halfway up the stairs, his eyes wide. “Don’t tell them

I said that.”

I chuckled. “No problem.”

The second floor seemed deserted. “What is this part of the building for?”

One Good Year

“Buffer zone.” He hopped onto the last flight. “They’re hella rich, so they can

afford to keep a floor empty on fucking Fifth Avenue just to have some peace and

quiet.”

These men sounded more interesting, more intimidating, by the moment. “Why

here?”

“Don’t know for sure. Rick told me there used to be a lot of jazzy hot spots in this

area back in the day. Maybe that’s why. They were always playing old music when I

was a kid.” We reached a door at the top, and Ace knocked. He didn’t wait for

acknowledgment, striding inside without a second thought.

Sure enough, jazz was playing, streaming from an old record player standing

against a wall to the left.

A man, one of five sitting at a card table, spoke without looking up. “Don’t know

how you got in here, but this is a private club. Party’s downstairs.”

“How do you think I got in, Quick? I used the key you gave me.”

All five men glanced up.

“Who is this kid?” asked the man beside Quick, straightening his glasses.

Quick smirked. “With that head of hair? Could only be Red’s boy.”

“Ace Donovan?” Another man leaned forward, his balding head catching the light

as he took a good, hard look at him. “I’ll be damned. Haven’t seen your little ass since

you were…eleven? Twelve?”

“Thirteen,” said Ace, his tone even. “The last time was the day I turned thirteen.”

I glanced down at him. He’d been thirteen when he was put into foster care, after

his uncle lost everything in a game.

Quick gathered his cards and the ones remaining on the table to shuffle them into

the deck. “How is Red Rick these days?”

“Some bad days, some better days.” Ace’s voice firmed. “You guys should visit

him.”

Rowan McBride

The one with the glasses frowned. “Doesn’t he have that”—he turned and rapped

his knuckles against the man beside him—“old-timer’s disease? Doesn’t that mean he

won’t know who we are?”

“Alzheimer’s,” corrected Ace. “And he’s still got the cards in his blood, so you

should get on okay with him. Besides, he has a lot of his older memories.” He grinned.

“And nobody’s older than you sharps.”

It should have been an insult, but the group chuckled warmly.

“So who’s this guy?” Quick nodded at me.

“Spade.” Ace gestured toward Quick and moved clockwise around the table.

“Spade, this is Quick, Shades, Kicker, Topeka Slim, and John.”

I blinked. “John?”

The thin man stiffened in his chair. “What of it?”

Not wanting to offend him, I chose my words carefully. “It’s not as…descriptive

as the others.”

“Like their names are so spot-on.” He thumped Topeka Slim’s stomach with his

fingers. “Excuse me for going with the name my mama gave me.”

Topeka Slim, a heavyset man in a colorful Hawaiian shirt, snickered. “Don’t listen

to that shit. He comes from a long line of hustlers.”

Ace glanced at me. “His last name is Diamond.”

“Ain’t nothin’ weird about that name,” snapped John.

Shades rolled his eyes. “Tell us again what your kin calls you?”

The other man frowned. “Jack.”

Kicker put a hand to his ear. “And what’s your middle initial?”

He sighed. “O.”

“You’re right,” said Slim. “Nothin’ shady about being named Jack O’ Diamond.

Nothin’ at all.”

John slapped his palm against the table. “Listen, you—”

One Good Year

Quick waved a hand at the group, silencing them as he leveled his gaze on me.

“You a sharp or shark?”

“Neither, sir.”

Slim cocked his head to the side. “But your name’s Spade.”

“I have a deep respect and love for cards. But I don’t play for money.”

Kicker smirked. “You must be pretty fucking bad.”

Ace’s fist went to his mouth as he tried to stifle his laughter.

Quick looked at Ace. “You brought a railbird.”

That was a term I hadn’t yet heard. “Railbird?”

“Someone who hangs around and watches,” said Ace, smiling at me.

Shades knocked on the wooden table’s edge. “Rail.” He pointed to me. “Bird.”

“Man.” Kicker leaned back in his chair. “Red used to bring pretty girls up here.”

“Ace,” said Quick, his face serious. “You remember the rule about bringing birds

to this floor?”

“Yeah.” Ace stretched, linking his fingers together and giving them a crack.

“Lemme have it.”

My brow furrowed. Was I causing problems for him by coming here?

Quick tapped the cards he held against the table, then slung the deck at Ace.

It should have scattered, but he caught it as easily as if he’d been tossed a ball.

“Still got it, old man.”

“Yeah, well, it’s all in the wrist.”

Ace hit the edge of the deck against his forearm. “What do you want?”

“Waterfall.”

He stopped short, obviously not impressed. “Kidding me? That’s it?”

“Oh ho,” said Slim. “Kid wants a challenge.”

Shades grinned, straightening his spectacles. “Waterfall into a heavenly spring.”

Rowan McBride

Holding up the deck, Ace sighed. “Whatever.” The cards spilled downward,

flowing into his left hand. As if controlled by a spring, they shot straight up into the air,

returning to his right. “So,” he said, sounding bored as he lowered his arms, “can he

stay?”

The group laughed and waved us in.

“That’s why you’ve been practicing so much,” I said, touched. “You wanted to

make sure they wouldn’t send me away.”

Ace groaned. “Spade.”

The laughter in the room instantly turned teasing.

“He’s been practicing, has he?” asked Shades.

Kicker palmed his chest with both hands. “Just to see us?”

“You always were an eager little brat,” said Quick, but there was a certain

fondness in the tone. “Grab a chair and sit with us.”

As if he’d done it a hundred times, Ace retrieved a metal folding chair from a

stack in the corner and set it down next to Quick. “Spade,” he said softly, pointing to

the far end of the room.

All this so I could watch a parade. I smiled and went to look out the window.

“Hey, kid. We gotta make an appointment to see your old man?”

“Visiting hours are from ten to eight.”

I glanced over my shoulder in time to see Ace accept the hand dealt to him. They

thought of Rick as his father. I knew Ace felt the same, and his expression was a

bittersweet combination of pride and sadness as he studied his cards.

“You’re a good kid,” murmured Shades, his gaze on his own hand. “Doin’ right

by your old man like you did.”

Ace shrugged.

“Yeah,” agreed John. “When he went off the grid, none of us could find him. We

figured he’d up and retired someplace sunny on us.”

One Good Year

Staying quiet, Ace dropped a few chips into the pot.

“Figured nothing,” said Kicker. “We hoped, is all.”

Slim set his cards facedown on the table, signaling his fold. “Then you found him.

Put him in that classy place.”

Ace discarded a card, and Quick handed him a new one before ruffling his hair. A

faint smile touched the younger man’s lips.

That one expression granted me so much joy. It meant that his grief, though

always a part of him, no longer imprisoned him.

My gaze drifted to the window. A band of men playing bagpipes and wearing

kilts marched by. I was glad we’d come, but not because of the parade.

Cold familiarity chilled my skin, and I closed my eyes.

No, not now. Not here.

Forcing a grin, I turned. “Ace, I’d like to watch the events at street level for a few

minutes.”

He glanced up, removed the chain from his pocket, and tossed it to me. “Sure.

Take my key so you can get back in.”

I caught it and strode out the door, down to ground level.

Ancel was waiting for me at the base of the stairs, smiling warmly. “Hello, Spade.”

“Don’t do this.”

His smile faded. “I was going to leave your memories intact, but I see now that

would be far too cruel.” He shook his head. “You really believe you love him.”

“I do love him.”

For a moment, he almost looked sympathetic. “Your master must be concentrating

very hard on his cards. Most of what I’ve seen of him has been through your eyes.”

Tired of his games, I closed the distance between us. “No matter what you say, no

matter what you do, I will. Never. Leave. Ace.”

Ancel frowned, his gaze traveling over my body. “Something’s changed in you.”

Rowan McBride

“My bond has changed. You cannot break it.”

“Ah, ye of little faith.” He ran his fingers down my cheek. “This won’t hurt,” he

crooned. “First you, then him. By the end, you won’t even know what I’ve done.”

“Stop.” I shoved him away from me, sending him crashing against a wall. “Stop.”

“Never seen Spade lose his temper like that. You’re kind of a crap friend, you

know?”

I turned to find Ace leaning against a railing on the first landing.

Unfazed by my attack, Ancel moved forward, tilting his head to look at Ace.

“Where…? How…?” His fist clenched. “I should have sensed you as soon as you

decided to leave that room.”

“Look at that, Spade. I just pulled one over on a mind reader.”

Ancel’s attention shot to me. “Did you know about this?”

Eyes wide, I shook my head.

“It’s probably all the people,” suggested Ace. “He said he scans the thoughts of

anyone close by, right? Crowds must get to him as much as they do me.”

Ancel’s voice hardened. “My brain possesses a higher processing speed than

yours. Don’t think for one moment I have any of your weaknesses.”

“If you say so.” Ace straightened, looking as bored as he had when he’d

performed that card trick earlier. “How did you get in here anyway?” he asked,

walking down to us.

“I snapped the lock.”

Surprise flickered over Ace’s face. “Ohhh.” He pointed to the top of the building.

“You’re gonna find out how Kicker got his name.”

Ancel’s gaze narrowed. “What are you playing?”

“You can’t tell?” Mischief curved Ace’s mouth as he pushed himself onto his toes,

bringing his face closer to the Senai’s. “How about now?”

“What…” Ancel’s eyes went even darker as his focus sharpened. “What is this?”

One Good Year

“This is me telling you that you’re not taking my memories, and you’re sure as

hell not taking Spade.” Ace settled back onto his feet. “And because you can’t pluck the

thoughts out of my head, you’re damned well gonna listen this time when I explain

why.”

He’d had a plan all along, I realized. And he was enacting it now.

Wariness drew Ancel’s body tight. “Have your say.”

Ace took a moment, collecting his thoughts. “Before I met Spade, I was a wreck; I

admit it. I had one responsibility—my uncle—and as soon as I made sure he was okay, I

lived and breathed aces and eights. Got tangled up with some”—he swallowed—“bad

people. I didn’t even know enough to realize how bad. I’ve been broke. I’ve been

homeless. I’ve been invisible. It got to the point where living in a luxury penthouse felt

the same as sleeping in an alley.”

“None of this is helping your case,” said Ancel.

“I’m just sayin’, you may have had something when you called me unstable.” Ace

stepped forward. “But I’m different now. Because of Spade, I know when to walk away

from the table. I’m not afraid all the time. I’m not…grieving all the time. He taught me a

different way to live, and I’m going to hold on to it.”

Some of the cold slipped from Ancel’s expression. “Do you really think you

deserve him?”

Ace chuckled. “No, I really think I don’t.”

Startled, I moved closer. “Ace…”

He grasped my hand, and somehow the gentle hold brought comfort with it as he

spoke to Ancel. “But I’m working hard to get stronger, to figure out who I really am, to

understand who he is.” His gaze drifted to mine. “Because Spade sees me, and I want

him to see a good man.”

A smile tugged at my lips as I released his hand to wrap my arms around him.

“That’s all I’ve ever seen.”

Rowan McBride

His shoulders shook with suppressed laughter as he relaxed against me.

Ancel exhaled heavily. “You’ve given me a lot of pretty words, Ace. But that’s all

they are: words.”

I stared at him in disbelief. “How can you say that, after all he’s—”

“Spade.” Ancel shut his eyes briefly before continuing. “When’s the last time he

had a bad night playing poker?”

“Almost a year ago.”

“When he lost six million dollars in one sitting.”

My brow furrowed. “Yes.”

“I’m guessing that’s when he began to ‘learn’ all this about himself.”

Ace stiffened. “I just told you—”

Ancel’s attention snapped to my master. “You have filled yourself with delusions

of transcension, and because you and Spade are psychically bonded, he can’t sort out

that they are delusions. But you’re on a winning streak, nothing more, and all streaks

are eventually broken. When that happens, you’ll do what comes naturally to you.”

Ace’s voice dipped, held a note of regret. “I was really hoping Spade would get to

keep his first friend.”

“He will. There’s just no place for you in the picture.”

I held Ace tight. “I’m not letting him go.”

Ancel looked up, smiled gently.

And my arms fell away from the man I loved.

The Senai focused on Ace. “Since you’re the troublesome one, I suppose we

should start with you. Come here.”

Nothing happened.

Ancel tilted his head to the side, concentration etching into his features.

One Good Year

Ace stayed close to me, and I could hear the surprised amusement in his voice.

“You can’t do it, can ya? You can’t get past my wall.” He grabbed my hand. “So…I

brought my fiancé here to catch the parade. I’m going to take him upstairs now and try

to convince Kicker not to rip you a new one.”

For the first time, Ancel looked as if his own actions pained him. “Sometimes

things…happen to a human being when I push too hard.” He lowered his head. “I’m

sorry. You’re a likable guy, Ace, but this is going to hurt.”

Ace’s grip firmed on mine as he dropped his gaze to the floor. “You really care

about Spade.”

“Yes.”

“I know in my core that even if you melt my brain and erase his, he’ll never

forgive you. He’ll have a hole inside of him and not remember what was there before.

It’ll make him ache. He’ll look for me, without knowing what he’s searching for,

because he promised to stay with me. Always.” Ace looked up. “Even knowing all that,

I can’t let him go. I don’t know how. He’s inside me so deep that I think I’d stop

breathing if I lost him. So I’m begging you.” His voice caught. “Don’t put him through

that kind of pain. Don’t make him hate you, because he’s never hated anyone, and I

don’t want him to feel that either.”

Ace. I tried to say his name aloud, but the power coiled around me kept my throat

locked.

“Pain?” asked Ancel, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “What do you know of pain? If I

must hurt Spade to keep him safe, if my actions cause him to hate me, then so be it.” His

hand slashed through the air. “Seventy-five of us died in that crash; one died shortly

thereafter because I couldn’t get to her fast enough. I’ll be damned if I let the rest of the

survivors perish along with them!”

Recognition sobered Ace’s features. “I’m sorry.”

That dark gaze burned bright with suspicion. “What game now?”

Rowan McBride

“No game,” he said earnestly. “I screwed up. I was so scared of losing Spade, I

didn’t understand that you can’t lose him either.”

Ancel stiffened.

“You love him. All of them. They’re your family, even if they don’t recognize you

or understand how you feel.” He looked away, folding his arms over his chest. “I know

a little something about that. I know you’ll never stop loving them; you’ll never cut and

run on your responsibilities.” He turned back to Ancel, his voice steady. “I get it.”

My Ace. He’d grown so much since the night we met. I had a feeling he’d never

stop, that he would always try as hard as he could to be a good man.

I concentrated on our bond, on my love. Remembering how it infused every cell in

my body made me smile, and I lifted my hands.

Shock rounded Ancel’s eyes.

But my attention was on Ace as I took his shoulders and pulled him close. “I love

you,” I whispered, embracing him. “I don’t think I’ve told you that today.”

The wall Ace had spent the last week so carefully constructing shattered, and

what poured out of him was neither relief nor happiness.

Suddenly the room was filled with fear.

His head shot up, and he met my gaze. Then he wrenched himself out of my arms

and toward Ancel. “W-what goes down if you push too hard with a Senai? Does shit

happen with them too?”

The shock cleared from Ancel’s face, replaced with curiosity.

Agitation ripped through Ace as his voice rose in volume. “What can I do to make

things square between us? What do you need from me? I’ll do anything. Anything.”

Ancel lifted an eyebrow. “Play for him. Five-card draw.”

Ace’s body stilled. “That’s… That’s not doing right by him.”

“That,” said Ancel, “is your only choice.”

“There has to be some other—”

One Good Year

“Your Senai says he can do anything for you. One little game of poker is such a

small thing to do in return.” He tilted his head. “You haven’t lost in nearly a year. Don’t

you trust Lady Luck to stay loyal a few more minutes? Don’t you think Spade is worth

the risk?”

Something inside Ace cracked, and I grabbed him, trying to hold him together.

“Don’t listen to—”

“You don’t understand.” He stared up at Ancel, his voice hushed as he once again

pulled himself from my grasp. “I…I can’t. I promised.” He tangled his fingers in his

own hair. “Bet big, win big, lose big. You can’t bet what you love. You…you just can’t.”

He stepped back and stumbled to the floor.

“Ace!” I dropped to my knees beside him. I wanted to gather him into my arms,

but everything I’d done so far had made things exponentially worse, and now I was

afraid to even touch him. I lowered my head and tried to look into his eyes, hoping they

might grant me an answer. “Ace.”

He wouldn’t meet my gaze. “I told you to trust me—I made you trust me—and all I

ended up doing was drawing up more ways he could hurt you. Gotta play. Only thing

I’m good at.” He growled in pain and frustration, pushing the heels of his hands into

his eyes. “But I can’t bet you. I don’t own anything else of value. Not the suite. Not the

car. Gave away… Gave…” His body shuddered. “I got a shitload of cash, but…” He

started to curl himself tight. “He doesn’t want money. He wants you. So gotta play if I

want to keep you. Keep you safe. But can’t bet you. Gotta play…”

His thoughts were so fractured that I could hardly follow them, his anguish so

acute that it brought tears to my eyes. He needed me, and I could do nothing but be

here for him.

Be the man he needed. The fear inside me dissipated, giving me the answer I

sought. My heart calm, my words resolute, I grasped his wrists and gently pulled his

hands from his face. “It’s all right.”

Rowan McBride

“You think that because I said it. I said it because I wanted it. You want what I

want.” His head lifted in short, jerky movements. “I thought I had it figured out, but I

don’t. I…I can’t figure this out. I can’t…”

I stroked his cheek, let him feel the warmth of my fingers.

“Bond’s stronger than ever. That’s what you said, wasn’t it?”

My eyes never leaving his, I nodded.

“I did that to us. On purpose. Understand each other, trust each other, love each

other. So tight that no one could separate us. As simple as that. You warned me. You

said we didn’t know what he could do, but I had faith. So much goddamned faith.

Now…” His chest hitched. “What if you die when he tries to break us apart?”

A few moments ago, he’d stood fearless before the possibility of his own death. He

didn’t hesitate to relinquish his pride to plead that I be spared pain. And now, the very

thought that I might vanish from this world crushed him.

He clutched at my arms. “I gotta play…right?”

I slipped my hand into his hair. “No, Ace. You don’t have to play.”

“But—”

I pressed my lips to his forehead, the bridge of his nose, his mouth.

Spade.

He thought I was saying good-bye. But I could never say good-bye to this man.

So for the first time in my life, I gave orders to my master. “Stand up.”

Confusion colored his features.

To help him, I rose, guiding him to his feet. “Put your arms around me,” I told

him, my voice low and firm.

He embraced me without argument.

“Now lay your head against my body.” I palmed his head and helped him with

that as well.

I felt the moment he closed his eyes, the moment his panic began to wane.

One Good Year

“Spade,” he whispered, listening to the beat of my heart.

“You’ll always be with me,” I murmured, stroking his hair. “I promise you, it’s as

simple as that.”

The hope that warmed my body was faint, tentative. “You always keep your

promises.” His hands twisted into the back of my shirt. “I’m such a fuckup.”

“You’re not. I’m able to keep my promises because you give me the power to do

so.”

Ancel approached, his gaze traveling the length of Ace’s body. “You really can’t

let him go, can you?” he asked thoughtfully.

Protective, I drew him closer.

For the moment, Ancel ignored me, intent on studying Ace. “This is… How did

you bind yourself so thoroughly to him?”

“You were right.” Clinging to me, Ace turned his head and faced Ancel. “My love

is dangerous.”

Ah, Ace. “Your love is freedom,” I said, needing to brush this despondency from

his soul.

Ancel’s gaze flicked to me, back to Ace. He lifted his hand, reached out.

I stepped us back, pulling my human away from that poisonous touch.

“Easy,” Ancel said, staring at Ace. “I’m not going to hurt him.”

Cautious, wary, I allowed Ancel to touch Ace’s face.

Those long fingers slid under Ace’s chin, tilted his head. “Tell me about the suite.”

Ace’s arms tightened around me. “What?”

“Earlier, you mentioned your suite. Remember?”

The fractured thoughts inside him began to reform. “I gave it away.”

I glanced down at him in surprise.

Ancel leaned closer. “Who did you give it to?”

Rowan McBride

Ace replied as if the other man should have known the answer. “Spade.”

What? When had he…?

“What about the car?” asked Ancel. “Give that to him too?”

Ace nodded.

“What else?”

The emotions within him continued to settle. “Account. Enough cash to hold him

for the rest of his life.”

“You did this because of what I said last week.”

“No, always planned on it. I couldn’t swing it until he existed on paper, though, so

worked on that first.”

I caught his gaze. “Why did you do this?”

His eyes were clear, steady. “Because you chose me.”

My lips parted.

Ancel reclaimed his attention. “Chose you?”

The more he spoke, the more naturally his words came. “His eyes were blue.” He

chuckled. “I said I didn’t like that color, and he turned his own eyes green. My favorite.

Even though he technically belonged to somebody else, he was already mine.”

Breathing easier, Ace straightened. “Then I drew a straight flush. All spades.

Before I knew it, he was mine for real, and I took him home.” His arms fell away from

my body, his gaze intent on Ancel. “But he chose me, you see. I figured it was only a

matter of time before he got tired of my bullshit, and I wanted to make sure that if he

wanted to break with me, he could. So I set aside some cash. Then I started to think that

maybe we could always be together, but…but sometimes it doesn’t work out that way.”

Rick. This had been on Ace’s mind since the night we met, but although I’d been

aware he was afraid to let anyone into his life, although I’d known exactly how to

assuage those fears, I’d had no comprehension of how deeply his concerns—his sense of

responsibility—ran.

One Good Year

“If something happened to me, I wanted Spade to be able to choose again.

Whoever he wanted.” He grinned. “I didn’t want him to fall in with my crowd just

because he needs a master to live. It made him sad, you know? Changing hands so

often.”

I was the Senai. How was it that Ace saw me as clearly as I saw him?

Ancel’s mouth crooked. “You really, really should have led with that.” He looked

at me. “This is why I hate humans. Their minds are so disorganized.”

Gently, carefully, I pulled Ace back into my embrace. “I’m staying by his side.”

Ancel didn’t argue. “Get a cell phone. In your own name. Promise you’ll contact

me if you’re ever in trouble.”

He was giving up? So easily?

“I’ll get him one tomorrow,” said Ace. “He’ll call so that you can have his number

too.”

I smiled. Far too trusting. But I nodded my assent.

“Odd, odd human.” Ancel sighed. “But likable.”

“And suitable for Spade?”

Ancel narrowed his eyes even as his lips twitched. “You’ve given Spade a small

measure of security. Although he still belongs to you, I believe you will never bet him.

Let’s leave it at that for now.”

“You should—”

“Hey! What the hell’s going on down there?”

A split second of silence passed as we searched out the source of the voice. Then

Ace spun and tipped his head all the way back. “Kicker!” He pointed at Ancel. “This

dude broke your door!”

“What? What?”

Ancel watched the exchange in stunned disbelief.

The old man swore. “Slim! Get me my motherfuckin’ baseball bat!”

Rowan McBride

Ace clutched at his stomach as he laughed.

“Has he always been this way?” asked Ancel, glancing at me. “Or is this your

influence?”

“Believe it or not, this thread of mischief is relatively new.” But so alluring. I

wanted to steal a kiss from that smile.

Ace cupped his hands to his mouth. “Cool it, cool it. I’ll pay for the repairs. Can I

bring him up?”

Slim ran out onto the landing. “Got it! Whose ass we kickin’?”

Kicker groaned, leaning his elbows on the railing. “Nobody’s. Ace is bringin’ up

another railbird. A guy.”

“Railbird?” Ancel was silent a few moments before scowling at Ace. “I am not

your girlfriend.”

“Nooooo,” said Ace, taking a giant step backward. “For damned sure you’re not.”

The sharps above us chuckled.

I’d never heard the term before today, which meant Ancel couldn’t have plucked

that definition from my mind. “Girlfriend?”

Ace hissed. “Look, a bird is a pretty lady you keep on your arm, to show her off. I

don’t know where he got—”

“Were you wanting to show me off, Ace?”

His skin turned red with embarrassment.

“That’s cute,” remarked Ancel, his tone making it clear that it was a grudging

admission.

Ace thrust his hands into his pockets. “But still unsuitable, I’ll bet.”

His heartache lanced through me. He’d tried to play it off, but he was still shaken,

still hurting.

Ancel must have felt it as well. How this human had managed to fool two Senai

capable of reading his mind—even for such a short period—I couldn’t imagine.

One Good Year

“I should go,” said Ancel.

“Up,” said Ace. “You should go up and hang out with us on the top floor.”

The other man made no move to follow his directions. “Why are you doing this?”

“You’re Spade’s family, and he needs someone in his corner. You’re kind of a

crazy fuck, but you love him, and you try to do right by him.”

I shut my eyes. For me. He was doing this for me. Even if his original plan had

worked, he’d have tried to keep Ancel in my life.

Ancel’s voice was cool. Solemn. “Given the…unique nature of your bond, I might

have killed you if I’d gone through with destroying it. Spade’s healing capacity would

probably have saved him, but his level of functionality might have been…diminished.”

“So promise you won’t try to break us up anymore. Promise not to hurt Spade.”

Ace was the center of my life, my heart. When I opened my eyes, I saw for the first

time that despite the cards never far from his hands, despite his affairs with Lady Luck,

I was the center of his as well.

“What weight do my promises hold?” asked Ancel. “After what I’ve done?”

“You’ve been a royal jerk pretty much from the second you and me met.” Ace

shook his head. “But you never lied to us.”

“That’s…not entirely true.”

Ace frowned. “What?”

The other man took a step forward. “If you had agreed to bet Spade, there would

have been no game. You would have proved to me—and to him—once and for all that

you’re incapable of change, and I’d have taken him immediately.”

“You…you put me in a no-win situation.” Dumbfounded, Ace took a few seconds

to form his next sentence. “You’re such an asshole.”

“Yes. One who has caused you a great deal of damage.” Moving with Senai

swiftness, Ancel closed the distance between them. I matched his speed, catching his

arm before he could touch Ace. “I can see that over the past week you’ve somehow

Rowan McBride

managed to weave Spade’s essence into your own structure,” he said, unconcerned by

my grip. “I can also see you’ll carry the scars I’ve given you for a long, long time, even

with your Senai’s influence soothing the wounds.”

He’d damaged… He’d damaged Ace? Fury roared to life within me, and I

tightened my fingers.

Only my human’s calm voice stopped me from breaking Ancel’s arm. “I’ve had

worse.”

Memories flowed into my mind. A boy losing his uncle. A warm smile paired with

cold blue eyes. Betrayal. Grief. Tears on a rooftop high above the city.

Ace’s life. Ace’s pain.

Ancel pulled his arm from my grasp and let it fall to his side. “I don’t know how

to atone for hurting you this way.”

“Shit, you really don’t know how to listen, do you?” Ace punched his shoulder. “I

just told you how to make it up to me.”

“By going upstairs and playing poker?”

“Well…yeah.” He pointed to me. “But mostly by not hurting Spade.”

I chuckled.

Surprisingly, so did Ancel, though his laughter held less warmth. “Your

forgiveness is sorely misplaced.”

Topeka Slim’s confused voice floated down to us. “What the hell are they talking

about?”

“No idea,” said Kicker. “Sounds like some serious shit went down in the twenty

minutes the kid was gone.”

Slim’s voice rose sharply. “Ace!” He tapped the baseball bat against the wrought-

iron railing. “Need a little help?”

Ace tipped his head back. “Nah. I’m green.”

“So when you comin’ back up?” asked Kicker.

One Good Year

He grinned. “In a few.”

Kicker leaned out to get a better look at Ancel. “You bringin’ the other railbird?

Quick’ll probably make you clap a tornado if you are.”

That thread of mischief flickered to life. “Actually, I think he wants to play.”

“Play?” asked Kicker and Slim in unison.

“Shit,” said Kicker, looking straight at Ancel. “Kid, what makes you think you’re

any kinds of good enough to play in our house?”

“Kid?” Ancel nodded in Ace’s direction. “I’m older than he is.” Then toward me.

“Him too.”

Quick’s deep voice ricocheted through the stairwell. “Ace has been playing since

he was three and earned his key when he was ten. His friend there is just a railbird.”

“Yo, grown man,” teased Slim. “You got a name?”

“Ancel.”

Shades appeared as well, crowding the landing. “What the hell kind of name is

that?”

“Maybe we should let him play,” said Slim. “It’s always the ones with the weird

names that surprise you.”

“Let the boy be,” snapped John, squeezing his way in. “You guys get too fucking

hung up on names.”

Ace’s laughter returned, and he made no effort to hide it.

Quick raised a hand and rubbed his thumb against his fingers. “How much cash

you got?”

For a moment, Ancel appeared as if he would turn and leave. Then he removed

his billfold from his breast pocket.

“Fancy wallet,” said Kicker. “Good sign.”

Ancel opened the fold, then looked up at the sharps above him. “A thousand

dollars.”

Rowan McBride

The group of men straightened.

“Yeah,” said Quick, waving him up as he returned to the main room. “We can

help you with that.”

The billfold snapped closed.

Ace patted his back. “Have fun losing your cash.”

His dark eyes shifted to Ace. “Do you honestly think they can beat me?”

“Fifty bucks say they clean you out.”

Ancel stopped short, then nodded. “Accepted,” he said, climbing the staircase.

When he reached the top, Kicker looped an arm around his shoulders. “I think a

grand’ll be just enough to fix my door, don’t you?”

“You haven’t won anything yet.”

Ace called up the stairs, “Ancel plays five-card stud!”

“Do ya now?” asked John, his grin going sly. “That’s my game.”

The door snicked shut before Ancel could deny it.

Chuckling, Ace tugged on my shirt. “We should tell him that Jennika’s legally

your sister now. How do you think he’d take it?”

I softened. “Ace.”

“Oh, man, and he’s basically your brother, right? So that means Jennika’s his sister

too.”

I cupped his face in my hand. “Enough.”

His laughter died away. “What?”

My thumb brushed against his cheek. “You’re all right. We’re all right.”

“I know tha—”

I silenced the lie with a kiss. Slow. Thorough. When I lifted my head, he was

trembling. “I see you. And I understand. You don’t have to put on this act with me.”

One Good Year

He began to look away, and I firmed my hold. Those brown eyes, which had

brought me pleasure and comfort, laughter and solace, brimmed with tears.

Pulling him to my body, I promised that the storm would pass, that his scars

would heal. He listened to the beat of my heart…

And found the strength to believe me.

Rowan McBride

Epilogue

I sat up in bed, watching my human sleep. His eyes squeezed tight as he curled

himself into a ball.

Another nightmare. They’d grown less frequent over the past month, but he did

not deserve such pain.

He whispered my name.

Losing me. All his fears centered on the idea that I might slip from his grasp, that I

might get hurt as he tried to hang on.

“You’ll never lose me,” I murmured, but words were no longer enough.

Bending over his body, I brushed my lips against bare shoulder, across his cheek.

His eyes fluttered open when I took his mouth. A burst of panic tore free of him as he

threw his arms around my neck.

Stroking his back, I drew him up so he could sit. “I’m here.”

He stiffened, pulled away from me. “S-sorry.”

“You should let me make you feel safe.”

He stared down at the mattress, ran his fingers through his hair. “What time is it?”

“Two.”

“A.m. or p.m.?”

“A.m.”

He shuddered. “That’s not so bad, I guess.”

“You were supposed to play poker tonight.”

“Skipped out.” He waved his hand. “Called Jennika, and she took care of it.”

“This is the third time you’ve canceled this month.”

One Good Year

“I know. I know.” He scrubbed his face with his hand. “So fucking tired.”

More than tired. Exhaustion emanated from him in waves. “Did Ancel ruin your

game?”

“I’m fine. Like I said: tired.”

I grasped his chin and forced him to raise his head. “Answer the question I asked

you.”

For the first time in what felt like days, he smiled. The expression held no light, no

warmth. “I don’t think I like this ‘telling me what to do’ thing you’ve picked up.”

I didn’t take the bait, waiting for him to answer.

He blew out a hard breath and pulled himself from my fingers. “I just want to be

alone with you. What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing. But I’m not going anywhere.”

His hand drifted into the air between us, as if he were trying to feel our

connection. “Bond’s still strong?”

“Yes.”

Self-disgust permeated him, threatening to shut him down, and I couldn’t let that

happen.

“Draw strength from me, Ace.”

His eyes closed. “I’m always taking strength from you. The one time you needed

me to stand on my own feet, the one time the chips were down, I…”

I didn’t want to cause him more pain, but I knew now that the only way to help

him was to force him to experience it. “Keep going.”

He swore and glanced away.

“Finish the sentence.”

“I failed you.” His hands clenched into fists. “You needed me, and I fucking fell

apart.”

Rowan McBride

There it was. The terrible guilt he’d been holding on to so fiercely for weeks. “You

didn’t fail me.”

“Did you see me, Spade?” His entire body went rigid. “Falling on the floor.

Talking shit in circles. Clinging to you when I should have been the one doing the protecting.

I was pathetic.”

It hurt to hear him say these things, knowing that wasn’t at all what had

happened. “You did your best.”

“I didn’t do jack—”

“You did your best.” When I had his full attention, I forced myself calm. “And when

you were out of options, you tore yourself open before him. Before me. You bared your

heart, your soul, and you kept us together.”

His brow furrowed, but he was not yet done torturing himself. “I-I’m unstable.”

His voice dropped to a whisper. “I proved it that day.”

“You never wavered in your conviction not to bet me, and you never wavered in

your love, no matter the pressure, no matter the odds. That’s the very definition of

stable.”

Those brown eyes finally met mine. “What do you see when you look at me?”

The question took me off guard, and I left the bed.

“W-where are you going?”

“I’m not leaving.” I searched out my coat and removed a small velvet box from the

pocket before returning to our bed. “I purchased this two weeks ago but never found

the right time to give it to you.”

Ace stared down at the box I held out to him. “What is it?”

“Take it.”

He lifted the box from my palm and curled his fingers around it.

One Good Year

My hands smoothed over his forearms. “I see a man who is kind, generous,

playful. I see a man who is loving and strong. I see a man I want to bind myself to in as

many ways as possible.” Placing my fingers over his, I coaxed him to open the box.

“A ring,” he murmured.

I reached in, took hold of a thin platinum chain, and pulled it free. “My first

purchase from my checking account.”

As if afraid to touch it, he stared at the ring hanging between us. “Why is it on a

chain?”

“I didn’t want the band to interfere with your feel for the cards.” I looped the

necklace over his head. The ring settled just below the hollow of his throat. “I

considered gold, but I knew the etching would be much more pronounced if I chose a

platinum band instead.”

“Etching?”

I touched the band, lightly pressing the cool metal against his skin and making

him shiver. “Look.”

He picked it up, turned it over in his hands. He froze when he saw the image

etched in black—a small, simple playing card. “This is…” His head shot up. “You got

this two weeks ago?”

It was not the reaction I had been expecting. “Yes, I went—”

“The etching too? Two weeks ago?”

I nodded.

Ace leaped from the bed.

Alarmed, I started to follow, realized he wasn’t running away from me, and held

still.

He ran to a dresser and opened the top drawer. “Where is it…” He rummaged all

the way to the bottom. “Here!” he said, pulling out a velvet box of his own.

My eyebrows lifted.

Rowan McBride

He ran back to the bed and crawled over the mattress to get as close to me as

possible. “I bought it this morning.” He shoved the box into my hands.

Not knowing what to expect, I opened it and looked inside. This ring, nestled

against black velvet, had an etching identical to the one I’d given to the man kneeling

before me.

The Ace of Spades.

“I picked platinum too. At first I was going to go with a steel one to represent your

strength, but you’re strong and high-class, and I thought the platinum suited you

better.”

I looked up, more enthralled by the excitement—gone so long—lighting him from

the inside out.

Ace grabbed my shoulders. “But I didn’t decide any of that until this morning,

and you bought yours two weeks ago.”

His point began to dawn on me. “I couldn’t have gotten the idea from you. It was

my own. Yet we commissioned the same rings.”

“I was right before, wasn’t I? When I said you were inside me. We really belong to

each other, don’t we?”

Awed, I nodded.

Grinning, he removed the ring from its box and took my hand. “Let’s put it on.”

I stayed his hand. “Wait.”

Ace glanced up. “Wait? Why?”

I took hold of the band hanging from his neck and gently tugged him closer. “I

wish to say my vows first.”

“Vows?” Nervous now, his smile slipped. “Spade, you save that stuff for the

ceremony.”

“I’ll say them again then. But this first time, I want to say them to you and you

alone.”

One Good Year

He sobered, falling still.

I opened my palm and kissed the ring I’d chosen so carefully, then closed my

fingers around it when I straightened. Our first night together, so many months ago, I’d

meant the words but hadn’t truly understood them. So I said them once more,

respecting the depth of their power, the importance of their promise. “With this ring, I

will honor and protect you, comfort and keep you, treasure and love you, to have and

to hold, for better and for worse, in sickness and in health. Forever.”

“Wow,” whispered Ace.

I leaned forward. “If something were to happen to you, whether it be illness or

something I refuse to imagine, I will stay by your side, and I will love you. I’ll always

choose you, Ace.”

He sat quietly for several moments, taking in my words. I felt the pain of his scars

ease, felt him release his guilt.

“Okay,” he said softly.

Smiling, I gave him my hand. “Your turn.”

“What?” He glanced at the ring held between his fingers, then looked up at me. “I

can’t. I haven’t really thought about it. I—”

“Say the words in your heart. You can refine them later.”

He held still a moment before taking my hand. “I really don’t like this side of

you,” he muttered, sliding the band onto my finger.

“Liar.”

This time, his smile warmed my entire body.

Ace squared his shoulders, clutching my hand tightly. “With…with this ring…”

He swallowed. “I…I promise to accept your love…and to give you mine. I promise t-to

say the words. I will… Fuck, Spade! You had time to plan your shit. I only bought mine

this morning!”

I chuckled.

Rowan McBride

He stopped short, looked into my eyes. “Will I always make you laugh?”

“Yes,” I said without hesitation.

Ace moved closer, slipped his hands into my hair, and touched our foreheads

together. “Your happiness is my happiness. Your pain is my pain.” He opened his eyes.

“Your life is my life. Forever.”

My smile faded as I took him into my arms and held him close, treasuring his

promises, treasuring him.

“Was that okay?” he asked, nuzzling the curve of my neck. “I’ll write better ones

when we actually—”

“It’s perfect. Say them to me over and over.”

He groaned. “I’m not used to that kind of thing.”

I laid him back onto the mattress and braced my body over his. “Then we should

practice each vow, one at a time.”

He frowned. “How? Which one first?”

Pretending to think about it, I rolled my shoulders, drawing his attention to the

muscles in my arms and chest. “I’m rather fond of ‘Fuck Spade.’ Let’s do that.”

His eyes rounded. “H-hey. That wasn’t a vow. I was just—”

“Ah,” I said, unable to suppress the note of teasing in my voice as I began to move

away. “A misunderstanding.”

He grabbed my arms. “Fine. Let’s practice.”

Easing closer, I lowered my head.

“Love you, Spade.”

I paused, a smile curving my lips. “That’s not the vow we agreed to practice.”

Grinning, he shrugged. “Sometimes you gotta play wild.”

The scars within him would never fade entirely, but they would make him

stronger. His desire to play would always sweep me into his joy. He would always give

his love to me freely and without reservation.

One Good Year

My Ace.

Taking his mouth, I twined my heart with his, made our spirits one. I silently

repeated my vows, thanked him for separating us so he could see me clearly, thanked

him for bringing us together so completely we’d never be parted. Ace drew me closer,

holding me tight, and I cherished the time we’d had together, as well as the future that

belonged to us.

A year ago, Ace had played one good hand and brought me home. One hand, one

card, was all it had taken to find his freedom, to gift me with his heart. I’d needed a

year. To learn. To understand. To transform myself from servant to man. And he’d

waited, with patience and playfulness, with strength and love. Now there was no

emptiness, no uncertainty.

One good year had made me whole.

Rowan McBride

Loose Id Titles by Rowan McBride

One Shot

* * * *

The ONE GOOD Series

One Good Hand

One Good Year

One Good Year

Rowan McBride

Born an Air Force dependent, Rowan McBride traveled the world and totally

missed the 80’s as most Americans know it. In exchange, xe’s gotten to walk in clogs,

break an arm at Mt. Fuji, and say prayers at a Korean Buddhist temple. So far it seems

like a fair trade. Although xe graduated from high school in Hawaii, xe didn’t learn to

hula and make leis until going to college in Iowa. After leaving the Midwest, xe moved

to Washington, DC and very nearly got xemself a Juris Doctor degree. Now xe’s chilling

out in Texas, diabolically planning road trips that could span years.

People say xyr life is random, and that’s probably true. Rowan comforts xemself

with the working theory that a random life makes for good stories. When that doesn’t

work, there’s Pocky. Lots and lots of Pocky.

Links to reach Rowan McBride:

Main Web Site:

http://www.rowanmcbride.com

Rowan’s Ramblings:

http://www.rowanmcbride.com/blog

Rowan's Newsletter:

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/rowan mcbride

Document Outline

Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Epilogue
Loose Id Titles by Rowan McBride
Rowan McBride

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