A Totally Bound Publication
As We Are
ISBN # 978-1-78430-264-1
©Copyright Willa Okati 2014
Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright October 2014
Edited by Rebecca Douglas
Totally Bound Publishing
This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination
and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or
places is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form,
whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of
the publisher, Totally Bound Publishing.
Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Totally Bound
Publishing. Unauthorized or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil
proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.
The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs
and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator
of the artwork.
Published in 2014 by Totally Bound Publishing, Newland House, The Point, Weaver Road,
Lincoln, LN6 3QN
Warning:
This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This
story has a heat rating of Totally Sizzling and a Sexometer of 1.
Soulmarked
AS WE ARE
Willa Okati
Book four in the Soulmarked series
Can the rebels with a cause change their ways, or will they miss their chance?
Wild, rebellious, and rakish, Cade’s been a bad boy since the day he was born. Don’t get him
wrong—he’s as aware of his faults as he is his virtues, and he thinks he’d be better off
without a mate of his own. He’d be a hell of a handful to keep up with.
Then a chance encounter brings Cade into Dennis’ path. Blind since birth, Dennis prides
himself on being plainspoken and knowing how to have a good time. He isn’t looking for a
soulmate either, but after meeting Cade he’s tempted to change his mind.
Can the rebels with a cause change their ways, or will they miss their chance?
Dedication
For Kimberly Starrett, with special thanks.
Trademarks Acknowledgement
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following
wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
Mustang: Ford Motor Company
iPod: Apple, Inc.
Don’t Fear the Reaper: Buck Dharma
Guinness: Diageo plc
One Ring: J.R.R. Tolkien
Love Shack: The B-52’s, Kate Pierson, Fred Schneider, Keith Strickland & Cindy Wilson
Milk-Bone: Del Monte Foods
Twister: Milton Bradley Company
U-Haul: U-Haul International, Inc.
AS WE ARE
6
Chapter One
“Cade? Catch!”
A jingling ring of keys sailed in an arc over the hood of Cade’s old Mustang, well-loved,
ridden hard, and looking like it. Cade caught the keys neatly in one hand and held them up,
scowling. “Not again.”
“Afraid so. You’ve been walking around with your head in the clouds for days. I mean,
if I didn’t know you, I wouldn’t be able to tell the difference, but…”
“Funny guy.”
Cade’s baby brother Nathaniel—not so much a baby these days as a twenty-one-year-
old with disturbingly high levels of independence—took the slow way around the car. He
juggled three bags of ice, slippery and already drippy in the muggy city evening heat. “I try.
One of these days you really are going to lock yourself in—or out—and then what will you
do?”
“Do I have a lifeline? Can I phone a friend?” Cade mussed Nathaniel’s hair good and
proper, enjoying his mini scowl of patient disapproval. Such were the rights and privileges of
an older brother.
Nathaniel rolled his eyes. “That depends. Did you remember to bring your phone with
you?”
“In this hypothetical situation where I’ve locked myself out of my car? Let’s say yes.
And in that case, I’d call you because you’re a sensible kind of guy, and mostly soft-hearted
enough not to mock me for the mess I’ve gotten myself into. Here, give me one of those
before you drop them all, would you?”
Cade snagged two of the bags. Heavy, but manageable. He’d scored a decent parking
space, less than a block away from the Eclipse party Nathaniel’s friend from the library was
hosting. Though Cade hadn’t been personally invited and didn’t mean to stay, Nathaniel had
needed a ride and Cade had had nothing better to do than lend a hand and a wheel.
“Why are we bringing ice, again? Did they run out?”
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“Questions, questions,” Nathaniel chided. He knocked shoulders with Cade gently,
letting him know he didn’t mind. Nathaniel could be a sweetheart that way, and very
different to their stoic, gruff elder brother Robbie.
Whereas Cade… Well, Cade was the middle child and everyone knew it. Cheeky,
restless, and addicted to cracking wise. A handful and a half. God help the poor bastard who
might be his soulmate one day. Cade wasn’t sure anyone deserved that fate.
He shot a narrow stare at Nathaniel’s upper arm, where he had—just once—spotted a
soulmark coming through, a cocoa-brown design on his pale skin.
“You still don’t have X-ray vision,” Nathaniel said in his quiet, contented way. “You’ll
see it when I’m ready for you to see it. And no one called me about the ice. It’s just a thing.
Everyone runs out of ice at every party. I thought I’d bring some and save Dennis the trouble
of sending out for more.”
Cade couldn’t say he was surprised. Very nearly too sweet to live, Nathaniel was. Cade
saw it as his mission in life to find, corner, and instill the fear of God, man, and rifles into any
man who dared to think himself good enough for Nathaniel.
He hadn’t had much luck so far, but Cade preferred to see that as a challenge, not a
failure. He’d get there in the end. For Nathaniel’s own good. Nothing to do with curiosity at
all, nope, no sir.
Though he was fairly certain at least half the reason Nathaniel wouldn’t ’fess up about
the identity of his soulmate was because he knew suspense drove Cade insane.
Even so…
Cade slowed his usual long-legged lope to let Nathaniel keep pace at his side. “Why
you haven’t told me to go play in traffic, I have no idea,” he said honestly. “I wouldn’t put
up with someone as nosy as me.”
“Yes, you would.” Nathaniel chuckled. “I’m biding my time, big brother, that’s all. One
of these days it’s going to be your turn. Some enchanted evening, you’ll look across a
crowded room and lock eyes with a stranger, and you’ll know what it feels like to find your
soulmate.”
“You watch too many chick flicks.” Cade wrinkled his nose. “And I’m not cut out for
relationships.”
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8
“You might be. Don’t sell yourself short. Also, they’re not ‘chick flicks’. They’re
romantic comedies,” Nathaniel corrected him. “Which you’re well aware of, since you watch
them with me. I know all your secrets.”
“Shouldn’t that call for a quid pro quo? No? Hmm.” Cade side-eyed him, then the street
number posted above a high-rise with an awning and a doorman. “Just remember that with
great power comes great responsibility. I’m in no rush to find a soulmate, little brother. That
day can take its time and I’ll be fine, as long as I have friendly company in the meantime. I’d
be equally happy—maybe happier—if I stayed single.”
“So you don’t mind not having gotten laid in weeks?” Nathaniel offered him a sunny
smile.
Cade grumbled under his breath. So he’d had a bit of a dry spell. Nothing permanent.
Only just enough to make him very aware of a need to get back into the groove. Come to
think of it, maybe he should do something about that sooner rather than later. Maybe even
tonight. Hmm. Could happen. “Is this the building we want?”
“Top floor. And you’ll change your mind when you do meet your soulmate. I know it.”
Cade elbowed the door open for Nathaniel. “This would be the sound of me doubting
you.”
“So you say now. It’s nothing like you think it’ll be, finding your soulmate,” Nathaniel
said. “I can’t describe how it feels. It’s different when it happens to you, that’s all. Like
opening a door, or like coming home. One of these days, you’ll see.”
Cade rolled his eyes, but let that one pass without comment. Sex, that was one thing. He
could handle a relationship for the duration of a hormone burst without screwing up. One-
night stands—those he could do. Get in, get everyone happy, and get out before they found
his Achilles heel. But acquiring a soulmate of his own?
Not likely.
* * * *
“I’m not going to be able to make it after all. Sorry. If I’d known—”
“Then you’d have gone in for your shift at the precinct anyway, because you love your
job and it’s generally considered a good thing to prep for it before you go to court. It’s fine,
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Ivan. Paperwork trumps party.” Dennis eased back into the comfortingly squashy depths of
the circle chair he favored, wedged into a corner of his apartment’s front room. Someone had
turned the music up louder than sensible and the bass line thrummed in his bones. He’d
have had a hard time hearing Ivan if he hadn’t taught himself at an early age to be damned
good at listening.
Ivan huffed. “That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t rather be there.”
“So come around later and help me eat up the leftovers.”
“You mean, help you clean up the mess.”
“You say potato, I say cheap labor.” Dennis grinned as Ivan snorted. “That’s better.”
He’d rather his friends were in a good humor, as a matter of course, and especially
Ivan. He and Dennis had shared a room in college, all four years of undergrad, and in his
estimation had likely saved each other from snapping under the weight of pressure and
expectations. Ivan had been estranged from his soulmate—and understandably tense about
it—and Dennis had been the blind student with chips on both shoulders, itching for someone
to put roadblocks in his path so he could knock them all down.
“It’s not the first party, and it won’t be the last.” Dennis shrugged with one shoulder.
“It’s the first one since Simon,” Ivan said. Paper rustled in the background. He’d be up
to his ears in depositions. Dennis winced on his behalf. “Good riddance to bad rubbish, sure,
but—”
“Is that what you’re worried about?” Dennis laughed. Of course it was. He should have
known. Ivan had no brothers, but he’d been born to play the role of a caretaker. And, after
reuniting with his Robbie, had taken on the job of seeing everyone he cared about happily
partnered off.
“He left you for the reigning Miss Indiana,” Ivan said. “Who he met on the Internet.
Sounds like something my brother-in-law would do.”
“That’s laying it on a bit thick.” Dennis raised an eyebrow. The stories he’d heard about
this brother-in-law… Whew. “I’m not crying into my ice cream over Simon. He wasn’t my
soulmate, and I wasn’t his. We both knew that. We met, we got along, we had an obscene
amount of sex, and he went his merry way with someone new. I’m honestly okay with that.”
Minus the subsequent interruption to his sex life. Dennis could have done without that.
A break was all well and good to keep the bodily humors balanced, sure. But for the past
AS WE ARE
10
week, week and a half, he’d been aware of a low-level but steadily growing spike in his
libido, as well as a distinct lack of anything or anyone really suitable for scratching the itch.
“Hmm,” Ivan said. He managed to pack an impressive amount of doubt and
disapproval in the one vocalization.
Dennis mentally applauded him. “Besides, I’m headed out to Florida next week on
vacation. One whole week of white sands and gorgeously crafted margaritas with salt and
lime. Lounging in the sun by day and hitting the club scene at night with my friends who are
smart enough to live down there full-time. Simon would only have gotten in the way.”
“You don’t have a romantic bone in your body, do you?” Ivan asked.
“Last I checked, nope. Not a one. I bet I don’t even have a soulmate of my own. You
know? Personally, I’d rather stay a bachelor.”
“Now you’re just trying to yank my chain,” Ivan grumbled.
“Because it’s so easy.” Dennis cocked his head, catching the sound of his apartment
door opening, and the low rumble of two new voices added to the clamor of music and
conversation among colleagues and friends of friends. No one he didn’t know or trust, or
didn’t trust others to keep tabs on, and yet one of these voices was new to him. Interesting.
“Gotta go,” he said. “If your guilt gets the better of you, then feel free to swing by after
work.”
“Don’t think I won’t do exactly that,” Ivan warned. “I’ll help clean up the mess. Keep a
watch out for me around three.”
“If it makes you happy.” Dennis shook his head in amusement as he disconnected his
call. Ivan meant well, and he’d get over himself sooner or later. He’d pinpointed one of the
new arrivals—he thought. “Nathaniel? That you?”
A hand touched his elbow. Ice-cold and slightly damp. Yeowch!
“Oops, sorry. It’s Nathaniel. I brought ice.”
Dennis nodded, satisfied. Though they didn’t know each other well—enough to invite
to a party, but not much more—Nathaniel’s sweet voice could be mistaken for no other.
Cuddly as a lamb, but a wise man wouldn’t get on his bad side. It’d been Dennis’ privilege to
hear him make rowdy teenagers back down when occasion called for a firm hand at the
sprawling city library where they both worked. He liked that in a friend.
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He didn’t know the lanky fellow standing close enough to Nathaniel to hop in his
pocket. “You brought ice and a stranger? You’re too kind.”
“He doesn’t have to stay,” Nathaniel murmured in Dennis’ ear. “It’s just my older
brother.”
Right. He had two, if Dennis recalled correctly. He focused on the sensation of shape
and mass hovering near Nathaniel’s side, and put out one hand. “Nah, it’s fine. Nice to meet
you. You are…?”
“Some call me the gangster of love. Others prefer to address me as Cade,” a light tenor
replied as a warm, dry hand clasped his. “Hello. I’m—”
“Trouble,” Nathaniel said. “All trouble.”
Dennis chuckled at the sound of an older brother impatiently thwapping a younger
upside his tender head. “I’ll bet you are.” Dennis could almost hear the impishness crackling
in Cade’s aura. It helped make up his mind for him. “As long as you vouch for him, he can
stay. Eat, drink and be merry, and if you let me miss the eclipse, I’ll skin you alive.”
Cade laughed loudly. “All right. Fair deal, Dennis. And can I say it’s a pleasure to meet
you?”
“I’ll bet,” Dennis replied. Oh, he liked the sound of this one. “I might even say the
same.”
* * * *
Cade didn’t go far—not that one could range too far afield in a city apartment, even one
as spacious and nicely appointed as Dennis’. Comfortable cushiony furniture, tactile knick-
knacks, woven wall hangings, and he would bet when there wasn’t a party going on that
Dennis kept the place neat as a pin, with a near total lack of clutter. He poked his nose
through a door to find the kitchen exactly where he’d have put it if he were to have drawn
up blueprints, and elbowed aside a pair of necking lovebirds to drop both bags of ice he
carried in the sink.
Outside, Nathaniel had upended his bag of ice into a melty punchbowl that smelled
around ninety proof, going by the fumes then promptly ignored it to whip out his phone. His
thumbs flew as he texted.
AS WE ARE
12
And that was just asking for it, wasn’t it?
Cade filched one piece of the ice and hid it in the cup of his palm until he was close
enough to speak in Nathaniel’s ear. “Who’re you talking to?” he asked, and dropped the icy
missile down his brother’s collar.
Nathaniel yelped and flinched forward, very nearly sending his phone to an early death
in a watery grave. “Cade, you asshole!”
Cade slapped him on the back, not so incidentally over the ice. “You should see your
face! Here, it’s only ice.” He tweaked the tail of Nathaniel’s shirt. “See? All gone.”
Nathaniel didn’t look impressed, or inclined to forgive. His cheeks burned tomato red
as he balled up his small fist and popped Cade in the ribs. “Don’t do that. What are you still
doing here, anyway? I thought you were leaving as soon as you’d finished helping with the
ice.”
“I hadn’t finished until a minute or two ago,” Cade pointed out. “The host of the party
said I could stay.” He glanced back to Dennis, lounging in the corner and tapping his foot to
the beat of the music blaring out of half a dozen speakers. Built sturdy, the kind of body
that’d look right at home in a street fight or a wrestling mat. Dark reddish-blond hair cut to
chin length, thick with heavy, tangled waves that begged to be mussed, a stubborn chin, and
full lips begging to be kissed. He reminded Cade of some of the men in old French films, the
kind he’d stolen from the library way back when he’d first got hit by the Hormone Fairy.
“You could have told me he was gorgeous.”
“Gorgeous? Him?” Nathaniel made a dubious face. He plucked a red plastic cup off a
stack, ladled a dollop of punch in and sniffed. Then sneezed. “Not, ‘you could have told me
he was blind’? Unless you didn’t notice.”
“I noticed. You didn’t see the ‘gorgeous’, really?” Cade bent forward to peer at
Nathaniel from a closer range. He grinned. “Or is it that you’ve only got eyes for a certain
someone?”
Nathaniel warded off Cade’s poking finger before Cade could jab at his well-concealed
soulmark. “And if I did?” he demanded, chin up. “What would you do about it?”
Cade couldn’t help but notice his baby brother had clamped a protective hand over his
phone while he made his protests. “Oh-ho! Is that who you were texting so industriously?”
Nathaniel squeaked. “No.”
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“Now that is the face of a lying liar who lies. Let me see.” Cade made a feint for the
phone, hooting when Nathaniel clutched it to his chest. “Ah, come on. Is he going to be
here?” He drew up short when Nathaniel’s eyes widened to the size of silver dollars. “He is?
No wonder you wanted me to get gone.”
“He’s not coming,” Nathaniel said, back stepping at a rapid clip. “He was, but he isn’t
now. He’s at work.”
“Which he told you via text,” Cade surmised. If he had a chance of finding out who
Nathaniel’s soulmate was—
His grab for the phone failed. Nathaniel might pull his punches most of the time, but he
was a clever little man. He snatched up a handful of ice and pelted Cade with it. While Cade
spluttered, a guilty sensation that he’d gone too far sank in along with the icy shock,
Nathaniel glared at him. He cradled his phone tight.
“Remember what you said earlier about inviting you to go play in traffic? Consider it.”
With a huff, he shouldered past Cade. As he stalked away, the iPod responsible for the
night’s entertainment tumbled out of its stand. The plugs that kept it live twitched out of
their sockets, and silence fell like the slap of a wet blanket.
Across the way, Dennis raised his hands in a slow golf clap.
Ah, damn. Cade hunched his shoulders. The glimmerings of guilt solidified into a
needling spike of reproach. “I am a bad, bad man.”
“You really are,” Dennis said with a frown that laid the hammer down on Cade’s
buttons. “Better apologize to him, or the host will decide you can’t stay after all.”
God, the man was handsome, wasn’t he? Cade glanced after Nathaniel, who’d
disappeared in the direction of what he presumed to be a balcony jammed with potted
plants. “I will. Promise. Better let him calm down first. He doesn’t lose his cool often, but
when he does…” He whistled.
“That’s been my impression of him so far. Long fuse, big boom. As long as you do make
peace, then you can stay.”
“Cross my heart and hope to die.”
“I wouldn’t go that far.” Dennis sat forward, beckoning to Cade with two fingers as
party-goers sorted the music out. He had a grin with some edge to it, lively and wild, and a
AS WE ARE
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deeply timbred laugh that sent a nice ripple of reverb through Cade’s bones. “In fact, I’d say
you should come here, so I don’t have to shout to be heard. Gorgeous, am I?”
“Very gorgeous,” Cade said in that lovely tenor of his. The sound put Dennis in mind of
sipping whiskey served on the rocks, cool and refreshing but with an unexpected bite.
Dennis heard the thump and bump of Cade hooking a padded footstool out to perch on,
close enough to reach out and touch—and reach out he did, taking Dennis’ hand in his to
brush his lips over the knuckles. “And I think you know it, too.”
Dennis would normally introduce anyone so daring as that to the flat of his hand, but
he couldn’t help giving in now. Cade’s temperament tickled his mood as well as the short
hairs of a soul patch on his chin. “I see how it is. You’re a scoundrel, aren’t you?”
“The black sheep of the family,” Cade agreed with seeming good humor. He didn’t let
go of Dennis’ hand.
Dennis nudged him loose, almost regretting it. “And you’re, what? Nathaniel’s oldest
brother?”
“Hardly. The position of the Eldest Gruff had been taken long before I was born. And
then, when no one thought of such a thing as being possible, Baby Bear came along to
surprise us all.”
Dennis snorted quietly. Feedback, then music blasted his ears. Sounded like they’d
sorted the technical difficulties. Good—he wouldn’t have to go and deal with the mess.
“Gruff goats and baby bears and black sheep,” he said. “Did you grow up in a house, or a
zoo?”
“Six of one, half a dozen of the other, but absolutely mannerless,” Cade said, still
cheerful, though the music made it harder to pick out the tonal differences between text and
subtext. “Hope Nathaniel doesn’t stay pissed off with me long. Maybe I’ll take him with me
the next time I go hang-gliding.”
Dennis arched an eyebrow. He could easily imagine Cade taking off with a whoop of
glee and a mighty leap, but Nathaniel? Not exactly. “You think he’d enjoy that?”
“Actually, no, probably not,” Cade said. “Damn. I’ll think of something better.”
“White water rafting, for example.”
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“All things are possible.” Cade snapped his fingers. Dennis could hear the daring tease
in his tone. “A mountain lion. That’s what you remind me of.”
“Do I?” Dennis asked. The more he listened to Cade, the more that pleasant, deep-
shivery feeling took root in his gut and groin. A slow-burning arousal that reminded him of
waking up leisurely on vacation mornings, with nothing else to do but enjoy himself.
“Wouldn’t that make me your natural predator?”
“One of them. I’d better watch myself.”
He felt a waft of air as Cade sifted his fingertips through the tips of his hair.
“Look at you,” Cade murmured. “All red and gold and fierce.”
“A silver-tongued scoundrel, at that,” Dennis said. And one who, as far as he could tell,
genuinely neither cared nor was fazed by a blind man. That made for both a new and
different sort of experience. Honestly, he usually had to fend off questions by the handful,
but from Cade? Nothing.
Simon had tried to lead him around by the hand on their first date. No thank you.
Cade might be well worth getting to know.
All right, then. Let’s see what happens. Dennis cocked his head. Whoever had fixed the
sound system must have switched playlists from thumping bass to sultry seduction. Still a
good beat, but one that went to the loins, not the limbs. Music that demanded the sway of
hips and the touch of skin to skin, an urge strong enough to prompt him to ask, “Do you
dance?”
“Everyone dances. It’s human nature. You hear a song you like, and your feet start to
move.”
“I hoped you’d say that,” Dennis murmured. He pushed himself to his feet, holding out
a hand for Cade to take. “I can’t promise I won’t step on your toes, but I’m game if you are.”
He heard Cade’s chuckle, a low and sinfully spicy ripple of sound, one that fit nicely
with the bracing warmth of his touch. When he took Dennis’ hand and pulled him close
enough for comfort, Dennis couldn’t help noticing he had lean hips and the long stretch of
leg that usually only featured in his more enjoyable dreams.
“You’re trouble too, aren’t you?” Cade asked.
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“I try,” Dennis said, comfortably wrapping one arm around Cade’s neck. Strong
shoulders. Yum. “Put your money where your mouth is, Mr Personality. Let’s see those all-
natural moves.”
Who needed Simon or the bother of searching for a soulmate, when he could have fun
like this?
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Chapter Two
Cade meant to glance at the clock in passing. He juddered to a stop instead, squinted to
be sure of the numbers, and whistled. Midnight already?
I must be having fun.
He grinned as he shouldered past the table boasting the sadly neglected punchbowl.
Attempts at civility had long since given way to a keg and more than a few fellows with
pocket flasks. Any soda left got mixed with rum or vodka, and the party rolled on.
“Why’d you even have that in the first place?” he’d asked Dennis the first time he’d
brought the man a refill.
“Mostly to see exactly who would try to spike it on the sly, and when,” had been his
reply.
Cade didn’t have literal hearts in his eyes, but he figured he wasn’t far from it either.
His baby brother had excellent taste in friends. He dodged a pair of gender-indeterminate
characters busily occupied with rocking one another’s worlds to the tune of the Barenaked
Ladies, and took a misstep. Stumbling to set himself to rights, he backed through an open
doorway and promptly drowned in the pervasive smell of herbs.
He sneezed.
“Bless you,” Nathaniel said. When Cade blinked up at him, he saw in the dimness that
Nathaniel had perched himself on a short settee in the corner of Dennis’ sunroom. He’d left
his phone on a windowsill packed with potted plants, and appeared to be in peaceful
communion with the catmint.
“Leave it to you to find the one crumb of peace and quiet in here.”
“It’s a gift.”
“No doubt about that.” Cade eyed his brother. None of his earlier pique seemed readily
apparent, but with Nathaniel, still waters tended to run truly fucking deep. “So. Still pissed
at me?”
Some people used oars to get themselves out of shit creek. Cade preferred the depth
charge approach.
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Nathaniel wrinkled his nose at Cade. “I’m not sure. You haven’t apologized yet.”
Fair enough. Cade asked, with a gesture, if he could sit down. Nathaniel replied, with an
eyebrow, that he was welcome to if he didn’t mind pulling up a patch of floor. Such were the
skill sets of brothers. Cade chose to wedge himself between a table full of something
unidentifiably green and spicy-smelling, and cleared his throat.
Nathaniel finally allowed a smile to peek through. “All right, Cade. I won’t make you
say the actual words. Don’t do it again, all right? My business with Ab—with my soulmate is
my business. You’ll know who he is when I’m ready to tell you, and not a minute
beforehand. Deal?”
Cade whimpered as he bit down the whipcrack response of Ab? Ab who? that wanted to
pop out. Abner? Absalom?
Nathaniel beamed at him.
“You did that on purpose,” Cade said with a suspicious frown. “And here Dennis
thinks you’re as sweet as honey.”
“He doesn’t know me that well.” Nathaniel sighed and abandoned the catmint to its
green and growing agenda to lean on the wall. He looked about ready to curl up for a nap.
Cade wasn’t fooled. That was the look of a man planning mischief. “Dennis thinks, hmm?
You two are getting along like a house on fire.”
Cade grinned broadly. “He’s a hellion. My kinda guy.”
“I thought he might be.” Nathaniel propped his chin on his hand. “You like him a lot,
don’t you?”
“I could see myself hanging out with him.”
Nathaniel waited three beats. When Cade didn’t tack additional verbiage to the end of
that sentence, he plucked a leaf from the plant and whipped it at him. “That’s all?”
“There should be more?” Cade asked, honestly perplexed. “We just met. I’m not sure
what you’re digging for, here.”
Nathaniel sighed as only a younger brother could, heavy enough to ruffle his bangs.
“You really can’t see it yet, can you?”
“See what?” Dennis asked from the doorway. “I hope you’re thirsty. I brought beer.
Though I get the feeling I’m walking in on the middle of something. What’s going on?
Anything good?”
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Given the direction of Cade’s voice, Dennis could tell he’d wedged himself into a
corner. Shame. Not enough room to join him there, but if he propped himself against the
table boxing Cade in, it’d be close enough for comfort. He held out one of the frosty bottles,
its sleek sides starting to drip beads of condensation, and grinned, pleased, when Cade took
it with a small sound of appreciation. He did like a man who knew his brews.
Both Cade and Nathaniel had otherwise shut up. Cade had the excuse of tasting the
lager, though, but Nathaniel didn’t. Dennis replayed the last few seconds of conversation
he’d heard and pinpointed the key phrase.
“You said he can’t see it,” Dennis said, punctuating himself with a hearty swallow of
chilly nectar. “See what?”
As he’d hoped, the question egged Cade into a response. “My kid brother’s playing
matchmaker.”
“And what if I am?” Nathaniel asked. He sounded serious as a judge on a seventh
Sunday. “You can’t see it. I can.”
Dennis screwed up his face dubiously. God bless the kid, but as Dennis understood, he
was newly mated. Natural enough to see hearts and flowers at every turn, but… “I think you
might be barking up the wrong tree,” he said as kindly as he could. “Don’t get me wrong. I
like your brother just fine.”
“Cheers for that,” Cade said.
“And I’m not so bad myself, is that it?”
“You’re in the general neighborhood of correct.”
Nathaniel groaned. “Oh my God. Is it like this all the time, or are you two a very special
shade of stupid?”
“Hey now,” Dennis protested, indignant. “Mind your manners.”
“I’m sorry.” To his credit, Nathaniel did sound genuinely apologetic—but also
stubbornly determined. Rustling fabric from his direction indicated he’d sat upright with the
force of his convictions, and a quiet huff from Cade’s position suggested amusement at his
brother’s expense.
“You’re sorry, but…” Dennis prompted. He’d had enough alcohol to incline him
toward generosity with the little librarian.
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“Actually, I’m not going to tell you. I’m thinking now it’d be more fun to watch the two
of you figure it out.”
Cade snorted ripely. “Come off it, Nathaniel. I know what you’re driving at, and I’m
sorry to disappoint, but this isn’t the movies. People don’t find their soulmates at the drop of
a dime.”
“Isn’t that ‘the drop of a hat’?” Dennis asked.
“Possibly. Doesn’t matter. Do you have a hat?”
“A fedora, actually. And a trilby.”
“No kidding? Mind if I try it on?”
Nathaniel made a small, pained sound. But at the same time, he was laughing. “This is
going to be good,” he said. “Carry on. If you need me, I’ll be out front handling the sound
system. A night like this needs a decent soundtrack.”
“This guy likes Squirrel Nut Zippers and The Who,” Cade said. “Does it get more
decent than that?”
“I can’t imagine it, myself,” Dennis said. He grinned at Nathaniel as the boy passed, his
aura nearly glowing with mirth. Ah well, why not? Let him have his fun. He raised his half-
empty longneck to Cade. “Here’s to incurable romantics.”
“May they occupy themselves with someone else,” Cade replied. “I’m stealing the
settee he left unguarded. Care to join me?”
Dennis wouldn’t mind if he did. He picked his way over to Cade, saying, “One
condition—that you help me think up a way to apologize to Nathaniel. You’ve got me teasing
him now like he’s my own brother. I never had a brother before. It’s interesting.”
“You’re more than welcome to borrow either of mine. Here, I’m making room for both
of us. It’ll be a narrow fit.”
“I’ve shared it before,” Dennis said. He did have to balance carefully to keep from
tipping off the edge, but Cade wasn’t bad at all when it came to getting close and cozy. His
shoulder was the perfect height for Dennis to prop his chin on.
“Sounds salacious.”
“The stories I could tell you…” Dennis nestled the point of his chin deeper. Perfect.
“Would curl my hair, I’m sure. But I bet I could top you. It’s the damnedest thing. I hate
disappointing him so much that…”
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“That the urge is there to try to please the kid,” Dennis agreed. “How does he do that?”
“God knows.” Cade’s arm landed sturdy and warm around Dennis’ shoulders, and
proved even better to lean into. He smelled wonderful. Savory, clean, and spicy. Dennis
wouldn’t have minded nibbling at him, if he hadn’t been extremely sure it would have sent
the wrong message. No matter what Nathaniel wanted, Dennis couldn’t think of Cade as
being made and meant for him. They got along, sure. He enjoyed every moment of extended
foreplay, absolutely.
But it wasn’t like he’d been told it would be, with Cade. No sense of absolute certainty,
or the mad need to cling onto the man as if he were life itself. No wonder or worry about
what Cade thought of him.
He was simple, and easy to be with.
Dennis sighed quietly as he toyed with a lock of Cade’s hair. “No. I think he’s got the
wrong end of the stick. I know myself, Cade. I have to, inside and out, because that’s how I
make the world work for me instead of letting it overwhelm me. I learned that lesson young.
And I’ve been truly careful, because I don’t particularly want a soulmate. No offense. I like
being my own man. I prefer my life the way it is, and it’s plenty full already.”
“None taken. I’m not exactly looking, either. I’ve seen it happen plenty of times.
Occupational hazard of bartending. Seems like people fall in love easy as falling off a log, but
no matter how times I’ve watched it happen, I don’t get it.”
Dennis lifted his head. “You too?”
“God, no. Nathaniel says he’s happy with his soulmate,” Cade said. Skepticism layered
the words like a citrus vodka drizzled on a pineapple cake, tart and dry. “But I can’t wrap
my head around it. My older brother? When it happened to him, it was like watching
someone willingly fling themselves in front of a speeding train and think they wouldn’t get
splattered into jelly.”
Dennis winced. Sounded as if his older brother had had just about as much fun finding
his mate as Ivan had.
“I’ve wondered sometimes if there’s something wrong with me,” Cade went on. “To
care about someone that much… I don’t know. How can anyone be worth that?”
“Spoken like a man who’s never been in love, but that’s all right. I haven’t either.”
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“Wouldn’t that make life interesting?” Cade hooted. “Okay, I’m calling it. Enough of
the soulmate talk. Melancholic introspection is not my thing, except when Nathaniel gets his
claws in and makes me start taking shit seriously. Other people enjoy relationships? Good for
them. I’m not going to let it slow my roll. How about you?”
“I could get behind that.”
“You could. I’d rather you got behind me.”
Dennis swallowed his last mouthful of beer rather than spraying it, but it was a near
thing. He raised an eyebrow. “Sorry, what were you saying earlier about ‘the gangster of
love’?”
“Not too smooth, eh?”
“I’ve heard better.” Dennis held his thumb and forefinger a whisper apart. “Luckily for
you, I’m a man who’s willing to give you a second chance. At least you didn’t suggest we
should put some space between us for the sake of not breaking Nathaniel’s heart.”
Cade scoffed. “He’ll pester me gently for a while, but he’s better emotionally balanced
than the pair of us put together. I call him ‘baby’ brother, but he’s twenty-one years old, and
he’s fully used to me disappointing him.” He sounded more like himself.
Good. Dennis preferred him that way.
“I think I’ll keep you.”
“Oh, really? Who says you’re the one who gets to do the keeping?”
“Feel free to turn the tables. I wouldn’t mind living in a deluxe apartment in the sky.”
“It’s not that great.” Dennis leaned back and stretched his legs in front of him. Even at
full extension they weren’t quite as lengthy as Cade’s. He tapped his foot against Cade’s shin.
“I don’t spend that much time here. The quiet tends to get to me. I’d rather have some noise
and some life around, you know? I’m headed down to Key West next week. God, now
there’s a group of people who know how to throw a party.”
He could feel Cade perking up. “I’ve heard stories, and most of them make me wish I’d
learned how to save for vacations. Do you go to the drag shows?”
“Sometimes.” Dennis hummed in appreciation of good memories. “Dancing until
dawn. Then sleeping it off on hot white sands. Now that’s living.”
Cade laughed quietly. “I’d drink to that, if I had any beer left. As I don’t, can I offer you
another dance?”
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Dennis crinkled his nose at Cade. “I imagine you could if you put in the effort. Try it
and see for yourself.”
Cade stood by his statement—he truly didn’t want a soulmate. Not as such. Though if
he were to acquire one, he wouldn’t mind if they were like Dennis.
Only then, though.
Cade took the bottle from Dennis, who gave it over willingly enough, and planted it
between two pots that looked—and smelled—like rosemary and basil. God help him, he’d
never be able to look a spice rack in the eye again without getting half hard, would he?
Not that Cade considered that to be a bad thing.
“You’re thinking strange and X-rated thoughts about my herbs, aren’t you?”
“Not telling. Why do you have so many?” Cade asked.
“For the smell, and for cooking.” Dennis tucked his hair behind his ears. “I like food
that bites back. Indian. Thai. Curries that make you cry. I’ll make you my version of Phaal
sometime. If you’re not begging for mercy by the end of the meal, I’ll give you a raw Scotch
Bonnet for dessert and you can have activated charcoal instead of a mint.”
“Fair warning that I will take you up on that.” Cade took Dennis’ hand and helped him
to his feet. “Soulmate or not, I think we’re going to have a good time together, you and I.”
“Damned right.”
Outside, the music skipped as it cut from one song heavy on the thumpa, thumpa, thumpa
to another. The opening chords very nearly gave Cade flashbacks to the skateboard parks
he’d frequented in his mostly misspent youth. When he recognized the tune, he groaned and
rolled his eyes. “Don’t Fear the Reaper. Nathaniel thinks he’s cute.”
When Dennis laughed, his nose crinkled and fine lines popped up at the corners of his
eyes. “He is cute. You’re definitely brothers.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Cade said, and bent his head to kiss Dennis the way
he’d wanted to all night—hard, fast and deep, not slowing down once for breath. Dennis
drew a startled inhale, but he didn’t protest. Instead, he twined one arm around Cade’s neck
and held on, parting his lips and drawing Cade closer still. Winding his fingers into Cade’s
hair, he rested his hand on Cade’s nape and used that leverage to direct him. He left no
doubt about who was in charge.
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Now that’s what I’m talking about.
Cade found the hem of Dennis’ jersey, artfully ragged where his own would have been
worn from use. He liked the feel of the expensive fibers sliding through his fingers. He liked
better still the bare skin beneath it once he’d peeled the shirt off the man and cast it aside.
Then, he found he liked best of all the crisp, curling dark-blond hair thick enough to pluck at.
Cade fitted his hands to Dennis’ hips and pulled him nearer. His hands fitted exactly so in
the hollows of flesh and bone.
“You’re not too bad at this,” Dennis said in Cade’s ear. He kissed the way he teased,
and drank, and danced, holding nothing back. He’d gone hard in his jeans and wasn’t in the
least shy about showing it. Far from it, he took Cade’s hand and guided him down into a
firm, cupping grip. “In case you hadn’t noticed.”
Cade should say he’d noticed. He was too busy noticing everything, actually, to stop
and comment on any one thing in particular. He nipped Dennis’ full lower lip to shush him,
and slid a hand around to see if Dennis’ ass fit his hand as well as his hip.
It did. He was the right height too, to rock against Cade in time with the music, mouths
slanted over mouths, hands finding holds that suited them only for a chord or three before
moving on to the next, finding it even better.
Dennis helped Cade slide his loose V-necked tee over his head, and splayed both hands
wide on Cade’s chest the second it’d cleared. In the interest of fair being fair, Cade bent his
head further to lay his mouth over the pulse beating in the side of Dennis’s neck. Mmm. God,
he liked the taste of the man. Clean and crisp, and it made him wonder what he’d taste of
elsewhere—
The whirr and click came half a second before the flash made Cade jump half out of his
skin. “Thor on a pogo stick!”
“What the hell?” Dennis parted to ask. He looked dazed, glassy, and it made Cade lift
his chin with pride. “Oh God. Tell me that wasn’t the sound of a camera phone.”
Grateful that he’d had his back turned to the door, Cade turned at the waist to glower at
Nathaniel, who’d had to prop himself up to keep from falling down with laughter. “I will
murder you.”
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“Just documenting the occasion,” said unrepentant Nathaniel. He stowed his phone.
“And reminding you that you aren’t actually alone here. You were about to give the assorted
guests a heck of a show.”
Dennis thumped his head onto Cade’s chest and groaned—but he was laughing, too.
“Okay, that’s it. I would say I’m not normally this easy—and actually, I’m not, but what the
hell. I have a bedroom, and my bedroom has a door, and that door has a lock. Want to move
the party elsewhere?”
“Depends. Are you talking about a party of two?”
“No one allowed but you and me.” Dennis shook his tangled hair back again. “Are you
in?”
For the fun of contrariness, Cade rumpled that hair into a thorough mess. “Give me a
few minutes and I think I can be. Lead on, MacDuff.”
“Still not smooth.”
“I’m a work in progress,” Cade said, and paused just long enough to kiss Dennis until
he nearly forgot he had any reason to get a move on.
Only almost. Cade wanted to see what kind of trouble they could get themselves into
now. He and Dennis.
Hopefully, the very best sort.
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Chapter Three
Must be my lucky night.
Case in point—Dennis’ bedroom wasn’t far at all to travel. A quick hop, skip and jump
down the corridor, and with a satisfyingly heavy door that could indeed be shut and locked.
Cade walked backward, tugging at Dennis when Dennis allowed it. Which was only so far,
and no farther, but not a bad thing for all that.
Dennis knotted his fist in Cade’s shirt tails and held him back when they’d closed the
door. He licked his lips, soft and red from kissing. The dark glasses he wore sat slightly
askew on his nose before he reached up to fix their perch. With his arm around Cade’s waist,
he was solid and sturdy and so very fucking hard.
Cade bent his head to set his mouth hard to Dennis’ neck. Dennis groaned and tipped
his head obligingly to one side, letting Cade have his way. He didn’t stand by and let Cade
have all the fun, God no. He took Cade by the nape and directed him, showing him where he
liked it best. He tasted like—Cade didn’t even know.
Dennis slipped both hands behind Cade and fitted his palms to Cade’s ass. His hands
were as good or better than the rest of him, strong and sturdy. “The bed should be right
behind us. Thing is, I don’t know if I can bother stopping long enough to move either of us
there.”
No kidding. But— “Oh, I think I can make you move.” Cade had discovered they were
just the right height for him to slip a knee between Dennis’, then his thigh. He shifted
forward, and with one hand at Dennis’ hip moved him up, together against Cade. He
couldn’t remember ever being this hard. It hadn’t been that long since he’d gotten his rocks
off, had it? Nor had he connected quite so strongly with anyone in… Ever, come to think of
it.
He wondered if that should concern him more than it did.
Never mind. Doesn’t matter. And Cade forgot what he’d been thinking about when
Dennis laughed, low and rolling, and took him by the hips to match his movement.
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“Maybe you can, at that,” he said, giving Cade a firm tug to the belt loops. “Unless you
want to put on a show. You know there’s people outside with their ears pressed to the door.”
“Let ’em.”
Dennis drew him back in by sliding his hands beneath Cade’s belt. He made a throaty,
purring noise, as if he quite liked what he found there, and gripped tighter. His hands shook,
and he raised his own hips to grind tighter to Cade. “Sure about that?”
“Try me and find out.”
Cade let Dennis push and pull him, not minding the manhandling since Dennis was
willing to do the work. He had a flash of imagination, a picture of himself and Dennis spread
out and naked filling his head. He’d look like a fallen angel laid out on cool white sheets,
shadows and slats of night-time city lights from the windows barring him with stripes.
He had to get his hands on that.
Dennis’ jeans were new, the fastenings stiff, and he wore a leather belt so well cared for
the buckle hadn’t tarnished or dented. Cade managed all the same, and though Dennis
laughed at him, he stopped laughing pretty darn quick when Cade wrapped his fingers
around Dennis’ cock and laid on the pressure.
Cade decided he truly did not care about their audience. Nathaniel had blackmail
material enough to last for ages already. What was a little more? Besides, anyone wanting a
front row seat would need to have ears like a bat to make anything out over the stomps and
shouts and cheers that rattled the walls from time to time. Cade could have shouted if he’d
wanted, and he would have liked to hear Dennis raise his voice—to see what kind of words
he could drag out of the man—but he couldn’t spare the time.
Dennis helped Cade with the fastening on his jeans, still laughing at him. They crashed
knuckles in between hot, salty kisses. His mouth, by God. Cade wanted to fix himself in place
and stay there, but one by one those buttons were coming undone and he had so much more
skin to touch and taste and mark with his mouth. His nipples, small and furled tight,
crinkled between the light pressure of Cade’s teeth. Dark red-blond hair tickled his nose.
In his hand, Dennis’ cock grew slick enough to stroke, and far be it from Cade to pass
up a golden opportunity when it presented itself.
“Oh.” Dennis tipped his head back heavily.
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Cade knew how to use his fingers, five points of prickling pressure that dragged Dennis
closer still. Barely gave them room to maneuver with any finesse, but Cade didn’t care. He
had Dennis’ cock in hand and the taste of Dennis’s skin in his mouth.
“Oh God, Cade, don’t stop.”
Stop? As if!
Dennis kissed him like he could spend hours doing nothing else, and the man had skill.
Though it was far from Cade’s first time around the block, he could have happily given up
the need to breathe for just…one…more stroke of Dennis’ quicksilver tongue, delving deep
into his mouth and shutting him up for once.
“Who taught you to kiss like that?” he demanded.
“No one. It’s a gift,” Dennis answered, drawing air through his nose and chuffing when
it escaped through his parted lips. “You’re not too bad yourself. Get back here.”
“You don’t have to ask me twice. God, I want you,” Cade said. Like he’d rarely, if ever,
desired a near-stranger.
Dennis wasn’t usually like this, but every time he tried to question himself, Cade
swooped in with a distraction, like—
“Then have me,” Cade said.
Like so. Dennis tried and failed to take a steadier hold of Cade, but it seemed as if the
man slipped too easily between his fingers now and he couldn’t slow down to catch up and
take a proper hold. Their chests and shoulders knocked together with every breath, turning
that simple act into a playful fight, but Dennis found he couldn’t stop grinning. Even if his
grin did have edges. Hungry hunter’s edges.
“Bed, I said,” he rasped out between presses of mouth to mouth, as they finally came
close enough for him to feel the edges of the mattress behind him. “And bed, I meant.” He
seized Cade by the unfastened belt and gave a pull, toppling him down. Dennis followed
after, already tugging at the jeans. “Get these off.”
“Bossy, bossy, bossy.”
“And don’t you forget it.”
He wasn’t worried Cade would. The man proved surprisingly good at taking matters in
hand. Pun intended. Dennis wouldn’t admit it on pain of pain, but he adored puns, the
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worse the better. He adored a good hard working man’s hand, too, wrapped so snugly and
securely around his aching hard-on that it made him gasp and swear he’d do anything for
the privilege of having that feeling on tap.
“Like that?” Cade asked, nuzzling at the side of Dennis’ neck. Playfully, he nipped the
skin.
Dennis turned his head to nip at Cade, tit for tat. He tasted fan-fucking-tastic, salty and
sweet at the same time, and he shuddered gorgeously when Dennis dragged a hint of teeth
across his skin. Normally he wasn’t much of a one for chewing on his partners, but he
couldn’t resist when it came to Cade.
“More,” Dennis demanded.
More Cade gave him. Dennis could feel it coming, easy and sweet and fierce, somehow
rushed and languid at the same time. Sort of like sinking into a hot bath after a long, hard
day. A flash-bang of sensation and a bone-deep sense of yes, there, like that.
He wound his arm around Cade’s neck and drew him down into a hard, hard kiss.
When he came, he dug in his nails, wrenching the poor guy to a stop. If Cade hadn’t kept
hold of him, he might have fallen from the exquisite shuddering of his body that seized his
muscles and drew him into a tight arc.
God. Not bad at all.
“Needed that, didn’t you?” Cade teased.
Dennis rolled his eyes and replied nonverbally but—he thought—efficiently, mouth to
mouth with the man who had been a stranger not so very long ago, but would never be
again. He stroked Cade’s cock, keeping him good and slippery. He hadn’t gone down far
himself, and wondered—could he go again?
But first things first, fair being fair, and all that jazz. Dennis tugged the slip-sliding dark
glasses off his nose and thrust them at Cade. “Toss them on the bedside table, would you?”
From the sound of it, Cade perched the glasses atop his own head instead. Dennis
didn’t mind. He was reasonably certain Cade’s hair was thick enough to hold them in place.
“Why?” Cade asked. “Got something in mind?”
“Maybe I do,” Dennis said. He still hadn’t gone soft. “If you’re up for it.”
Cade rumbled with appreciation. Oh, but he did love bad boys. “Then what are you
waiting for?”
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“For you to ask.” Dennis poked him in the chest. Even breathless and damp with sweat,
half dressed and vulnerable, the man had a hell of a fine spirit. Though he grimaced at the
tackiness and hissed, over-sensitive, when he tucked himself away, he didn’t hesitate. “Turn
over and lie on your back.”
“Really, now?” Cade sounded delighted.
“Very really. Do it, or I’ll do it for you.”
“Can’t have that.”
Between the two of them, they managed to turn Cade over to lie on his back. Dennis
arranged Cade’s hands by his sides and pressed down, flattening them against the mattress.
Tangled sheets, tsk. He’d forgotten to make the bed earlier. Not that he thought Cade
minded. “Stay there, if you can.”
“I’m not the best at taking directions.”
Dennis flashed a grin at him. “Learn.”
He appreciated the fine frisson of a shiver that traveled through Cade at that. Someone
liked to be bossed around, hmm? Very nice. Dennis stored that in his mind and got to work
with his body.
By using Cade’s limbs to guide and support him, Dennis eased down to a position
between Cade’s thighs, pushing them farther apart to give himself more room to move.
Cade only stopped him once, catching him by the nape to ask, “Sure you want to do
that?”
Dennis scoffed, but with a bright edge to it. Wild and maybe a little drunk, as if he’d
been constructed of effervescence and fireworks instead of flesh and blood. “Are you saying
no?” He snapped his teeth on a bite of air.
“Like hell I am. Yes… No… Yes, whatever it takes, but don’t keep me in suspense.”
Dennis blew warm breath over Cade, laughing when Cade groaned and his stomach
muscles jerked. “Fuck, you’re hard.” He savored the weighty, solid feel of Cade’s cock in his
hand. Gorgeously shaped. “How long’s it been?”
“Not that long.” Cade tweaked the tip of Dennis’ ear. “Must be you’re just that good.”
“Might be that I am,” Dennis said. “Lie still. Lie very still. I want to see how long you
can manage it.”
He bent his head to take Cade into his mouth.
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Oh—my—sweet—God.
Lying still had never been Cade’s stock in trade, and it didn’t come easy. In fact, at the
moment it came very extremely hard. He could feel it in the way Dennis’ mouth moved on
him, and see it in the bulge of Dennis’ cheeks. More so when Dennis drew off to rub his
cheek against the length. Stickiness clung to his lips and chin, startlingly vivid in the dim city
light. When he lifted his head to strain for a look down, he saw Dennis hadn’t gone soft
either.
Huh! So it’s not just me.
God, he could do this all night if he were allowed. Cade stretched out his legs as long as
he could possibly make them go, and pointed his toes until they touched the foot of the bed.
He’d never known anyone who had a footboard as well as a headboard. Mostly he never saw
headboards, either.
Then again, he didn’t always take his one-night stands to the best of places. He’d go so
far as to consider himself a connoisseur of alleys and doorways. A quick side trip to scratch
the itch, and done. He couldn’t count how many men he’d fucked around with over the
years.
Not a one of them had been a thing like Dennis.
And why was that, really? Once it’d fleeted across his mind, Cade couldn’t get the
question out of his head. He’d met men he could tease. Men who gave back as good as he
dished out. Handsome men, and men who weren’t in the least bit attractive until they smiled
and their personalities lit them up. Bartenders saw it all. If he wanted, he could cut and run
to any of the taverns that littered the city and find someone who ticked all the same boxes
Dennis did.
Except for the one that made him unmistakably himself. Maybe it was the sheer, savage
joy he showed. Look at him, going to town as if he’s having the time of his life! Cade hissed
between his teeth as he shoved Dennis’ hair back for a better view of his face.
“Fuck, but you’re good at that,” he said, grinding the words between his teeth to get
them out at all.
Dennis winked up at him. “I know.”
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Cade laughed, breathless, and put his hands to his own head instead, clamped down
against temples and forehead as if he were trying to keep his brain in. He wouldn’t be at all
surprised if the top of his head popped off when he came, and that wasn’t far off now. He
could feel it, the pressure winding as tight as a steel coil. He curled his toes, pointing his feet
without effort or intent now, and arched his head back.
“Den— Dennis—”
“That’s it. That’s what I like.” Dennis rubbed his hip, soothing with one hand while the
other kept busy. He palmed Cade’s balls and stroked with only the tip of his thumb, a ghost
tickle that made Cade swear at the top of his lungs. “Come on. Give it up for me.”
Well. There was no way to say no to that.
Cade tried to bite his lip, but that didn’t work, and when he let go he cut loose with a
shout that left his throat feeling raw and ripped. Dennis held his legs down with one arm,
and draped the other across his waist to keep him lying still, and as maddening as that might
be, it wasn’t a bad idea. Cade thought he would have bucked the poor man off otherwise.
Maybe. Cade had the idea that Dennis tended to get what he wanted out of life. Cade
admired that in a man.
Dennis kept his mouth busy, licking drops that fell on Cade’s skin, hard at work until
Cade finally drew in a clear breath and pushed at him. “God, enough! Not unless you want
to drown on dry land.”
Not an exaggeration. Cade might have taken the edge off, but give him half a chance
and even a morsel of encouragement, and he’d flip Dennis over to fuck straight into him. The
muscles in his groin twitched at the very thought, tempting Cade to do exactly that.
Dennis laughed at that, reaching down to stroke himself. Still hard, and good to go.
Hot damn.
“Fuck me,” Cade said reverently.
“As soon as I catch my breath? You can count on it,” Dennis replied. He hitched himself
up the bed—Cade giving him a wobbly and uncoordinated hand as he went—and dropped
half lying on his side, half draped over Cade like a particularly erotic sort of blanket. His cock
snugged hard between them, ready to go right fucking now.
Cade’s, too. Even nearly too sensitive to touch, it rested full and fat on his stomach.
“What are you made of, lust dust and aphrodisiac juice?”
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Dennis snorted with laughter. “I could ask you the same thing. What the hell, man? I
guess that’s what they call chemistry. I wouldn’t have minded stumbling over you sooner.”
“I’d rather you didn’t stumble, unless that’d mean you fell right where you are now.”
“Done and done.” Dennis tucked his chin against Cade’s shoulder much as he had done
earlier.
Funny how well he fitted there. Cade turned on his side facing Dennis, the better to
appreciate the view and to see if he meshed just as nicely.
Dennis gentled as Cade flopped on top of him. Smoothing down Cade’s curls, or trying
to—they didn’t cooperate for anyone—he said, “How about that? Just right.”
Cade snorted. Dennis’ chest hair tickled his nose, but not in a way that made him want
to sneeze. More like it reawakened his curiosity. “What kind of soap do you use?”
“You’re seriously asking that now?” Dennis shoved at his head.
“What? Inquiring minds want to know.” Cade sniffed a trail from nipples to armpit,
partly to chase that scent and partly to see if he could rile Dennis into properly wrestling
with him. “Oof!”
Apparently, Dennis’ answer to that was to grab his head in an arm lock and render the
question moot.
“Let me up, let me up!”
“You’re plenty ‘up’,” Dennis said, feinting a grab for Cade’s cock. He relented easily
enough and let Cade push him onto his back, then sling a leg over and straddle him. “Hmm.
Not bad.”
“Neither are you.”
Cade rested his palms on Dennis’ chest. He’d admit he had a weakness for burly men.
Nature had done half the work, but he’d bet a commitment to cardio was responsible for the
rest. He was so solid. Like he could prop Cade up for as long as he wanted, or even as long as
he needed. “I am glad I came tonight.”
“Right back at you,” Dennis said, content. His lips curved into an easy grin. “I meant it
when I said I wanted to fuck you.”
“And I meant it when I said, please and thank you.”
“You didn’t say that.” Dennis reached up to cup Cade’s face in his palm. “But I took it
as a given.”
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“Smart man.” Outside, the party rocked and rolled on. Cade hadn’t been paying
attention, but he felt certain Nathaniel would tell him later if they’d given him and Dennis a
standing ovation.
If they hadn’t, they should have done. He’d give them a second chance at it. Any
minute now.
First, he wanted to chase that scent. If it wasn’t a soap or a cologne that Cade could
borrow, he’d end up coming back more than once for a fix. He pressed his nose to Dennis’
collarbone, swatting him away when he spluttered and laughed, and worked a trail clear up
to the soft sweet spot beneath Dennis’ ear.
He touched his tongue to the beating pulse in the side of Dennis’ neck. “Sweet.”
Dennis hummed a sigh. He reached down to stroke Cade, urging him closer. Even
though his cock lay trapped between them, he seemed content to savor what they had in the
moment, pressing so close that to get any cozier they’d have to share their skins.
Cade opened his mouth over the beating pulse. He could feel the vibrations on the flat
of his tongue, as well as taste the sweat of Dennis’ skin, slowly but surely revving his motors
to a fine fever pitch.
Wider still, he worked his jaw and set his teeth over the thumping rhythm of Dennis’
body, as packed with life as a plum was with juice. He tasted a bit like a salted citrus, Cade
decided. Sweet and tart and tangy.
“You are something else,” Dennis whispered. He kneaded Cade’s hip. “Cade, mmm.
What are you—?” He stilled. “Cade. Cade, get off.”
Cade heard him, but couldn’t make himself move farther than Dennis’ nape. The skin
changed texture there, but was no less tempting. He nibbled once, light and playful, then
harder—
And the force behind Dennis’ shove knocked him clean off the bed. Ass over teakettle,
thump, thump, thump, down to a cold, hard landing on the floor that rattled his teeth.
He could taste Dennis still, on his lips and tongue.
He could—
Oh holy shit. He stared up at the man who’d nearly followed him off the mattress, and
who had stilled in a very visible reflection of the shock that had knocked Cade down flat to
the floor.
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A faint, but perfect and very real circle of tooth marks marred his neck. Cade had seen
its like before, though never on a man he’d taken to bed. A soulmate’s claim mark. Dennis
touched it, and came away with a bare smudge of blood.
“You’ve got to be shitting me,” Cade growled. “Oh, come on! I’m never going to live
this down!”
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Chapter Four
“Come on. Really?” Cade touched the side of his neck questioningly. Dentition marks,
no blood. Unlike poor Dennis, who looked as if he’d been gnawed on by a vampire who
lived on love.
Cade could see the bite mark quite well, as Dennis had starfish-flopped on the bed. He
lay on his back. Pressing his hands to his face didn’t muffle his low, steady stream of
muttered cursing.
Cade wasn’t any too thrilled himself, thank you. He rolled to his hands and knees, then
popped up onto his feet to point himself in the direction of what he dearly hoped would be
an en-suite bathroom. “Got a mirror in there?”
Dennis dropped his hands to frown at Cade. “Of course I have a mirror. It came with
the apartment, and it’s a handy cover for the medicine cabinet. You think I go around
dismantling stuff like that because I don’t have a use for it?”
“No,” Cade said over a spike of irritated injury. Normally he couldn’t have given two
testicles for what anyone thought of him when he insulted them on purpose. Guess I
understand now why Dennis’ opinion matters. Fuckity fucking fuck. “It’s a figure of speech, isn’t
it? ‘Do you have a mirror?’ means, to most people, ‘Can I use your mirror?’, that’s all.”
Dennis’ frown shifted gears into a glower. “Then why not ask that in the first place?”
“Can I use it or not?”
“For the love of— Fine, go ahead.” Dennis rolled onto his side, presumably to follow
the track of Cade’s voice as he stalked across the bedroom floor. “Why?”
Cade had set one foot into the bathroom. Now he popped back out to dish Dennis a
serving of his own glare. “Checking for a soulmark. What were you thinking, that I wanted
to fix my hair?”
“Pfft. Your hair’s too short for fixing. Except that patch on your chin. What is that, the
little goatee that couldn’t?”
Cade clapped a hand to his beloved soul patch, and protectively fingered the luxurious
mustache above. “You don’t like it?”
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“You care if I do or don’t?”
“Considering I was just naked and half a step away from giving you a rim job, yes!”
Dennis groaned. “I have no idea how the two are connected in your mind, but fine.
Normally I don’t like facial hair all that much.” He cleared his throat. As Cade watched, the
lines of his scowl softened into something almost like grumpy resignation, touched with the
faintest hint of the smile that’d charmed him. “On you, it’s not too bad.”
“Thank you.”
Cade tapped the bathroom’s light switch with his elbow, swore under his breath, and
squinted through the blazingly harsh fluorescent at the mirror. Nothing on his neck, except
the scrape from Dennis’ teeth. Nothing on his chest, nor on his wrists, or his hips—
And not on the small of his back. Phew. Given his track record, Cade wouldn’t have
been surprised if he’d had a tramp stamp for a soulmark. He twisted about, scanning himself
from top to bottom, but only saw it the moment before he’d meant to give up and breathe a
sigh of relief.
He growled instead.
“I take it you found one,” Dennis called. “Where?”
Cade craned his neck and bent his arm, trying for a better look. “Talk about going
around your ass to get to your elbow,” he muttered. “It figures. The mark’s on my elbow,
Dennis. Outside, on the left. Check yourself there.”
He flicked off the bathroom light and emerged just in time to catch a pair of boxers to
the face.
“Don’t fuss, they’re yours. Different fabric, different cut, that’s how I know, now shush
and let me concentrate,” Dennis scolded. He found the mark far more quickly than Cade had
and felt at the edges. “What color?”
“Dark. India ink dark, and rising fast,” Cade said glumly. He shimmied into his boxers
then his jeans. Old habits made for quick work. “Same with you?”
Dennis answered by beckoning him. “Let me see if yours matches.”
“I can tell by looking at it that it does, but suit yourself.” Cade thumped down on the
edge of the bed and let Dennis have his fun.
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Curious, he traced Dennis’ mark as Dennis touched his. Indeed, they were the same.
Looked sort of like a mash-up between a Guinness beer cap and the One Ring. Maybe more
like the beer cap. Good God, would he love a beer right about now.
Dennis blew out a long breath when he finished. “Well,” he said. “So there’s that.”
Cade snorted. “You think?” He sat up straighter, trying to pummel his brain into action.
It didn’t much work.
Dennis shook his head. His red-gold hair swung against his cheeks, bright as new
pennies. Without his glasses on, Cade could see how his eyes didn’t focus, but the bright
green of them—cat’s eyes—was almost startlingly clear. His chest was still flushed from their
romping, the soft fur there crisp and gingery, and looked strong enough to win a tug of war
with a jackmule. “Cade…” he started. “I like you fine. I more than like you.”
“Witness,” Cade said, patting the severely rumpled bed.
Dennis’ mouth quirked in a quick flash of a grin. “Testify. But liking you isn’t the same
as knowing you. And you don’t know me. I keep asking myself how we can be mates, just
like that?” He snapped his fingers. “It doesn’t make any sense.”
Cade tilted his head to watch the mark darkening on Dennis’ elbow. “What do you
propose we do about it, then? Hide it, pretend it didn’t happen?”
“Yes. At least for tonight.”
Cade didn’t believe him. At first. “That’s your big fix?” he asked, incredulous. “I’ve
seen people try to do that. They go funny in the head.”
“I said ‘for tonight’. Not forever.” Dennis’ words were harsh, but his face set in kinder,
if firm, lines. “It’s not like the marks are blazoned on our foreheads. You drive your brother
home. Get some sleep. Meet back here tomorrow, or maybe next week, once we’ve had a
chance to clear our heads and think. Okay?”
Part of Cade—a not insignificant part—wanted to say no. He squashed that bit of
himself down into a corner, because Dennis’ request made sense. Time to process. Time to
calm down. Not letting Nathaniel find out. All good and vital things.
And yet, even so, he had to make himself unclench his teeth far enough to say, “All
right. We’ll deal with it tomorrow. But if anyone asks who started it—”
“I’ll blame you,” Dennis said in perfect harmony with Cade. When he laughed, Cade
couldn’t help but join him.
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God, but they’d gotten themselves into a mess. Still, though, as long as they could laugh
about it…
* * * *
Dennis paused with his hand on the bedroom doorknob. “Do you hear that?”
“Hear what?” Cade crowded him from behind, his body already so familiar in a way
Dennis wouldn’t have thought possible. He could envision every line of muscle and sinew
even now, wrapped chastely back up in tee and jeans. The patch of hair on his chin—which
Dennis might like more than he’d let on—tickled Dennis’ cheek when Cade spoke.
He restrained the urge to turn and nibble on the chin beneath that bit of hair. “Listen
carefully.”
“I don’t hear anything,” Cade said. He made a heh noise. “It’s quiet. Too quiet.” He
dropped his voice to movie-announcer baritone. “In a world—”
Dennis drove his elbow backward, not too hard, into Cade’s ribs. They quivered
suspiciously, and the warm puffs of breath from his badly muffled chuckle sent a frisson of
arousal down Dennis’ back. “Don’t make me laugh, and don’t turn me on,” he scolded. “I’m
keeping my distance from you for the rest of the night.”
He half expected a man like Cade to respond to a mandate like that by poking a finger
in his ear—or grabbing his ass—but Cade only sighed, and kept his hands to himself. Which,
Dennis marked down as a firm reminder to self, was for the best.
Honest it was.
With Cade at not quite arm’s length, Dennis padded barefooted back out into his living
room. He kept his ears pricked up, scanning for the noises that would tell the tale. Silence,
still. Mostly silence. Music played, but at barely audible volume. Plastic rustled and clinked.
“Who’s there?”
“Just Nathaniel,” Cade said, sounding disgusted. Then, to his brother, “It’s a party.
You’re a guest, not the hired help. What are you doing cleaning up?”
Dennis nudged him aside. “More to the point, where did everyone else go?”
Nathaniel confirmed his presence with another rustling that sounded very like a
garbage sack of drinking cups being lowered to the floor. “Any way the wind blows,” he
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said. “They packed up about fifteen minutes ago. I wonder why? By the way, you missed the
eclipse.”
“Damn it.” Dennis massaged his forehead. Fifteen minutes ago, hmm? Right about the
time he and Cade had—well. “I expect I know the answer to ‘Why?’.”
“They didn’t mind,” Nathaniel assured him. “I think they were planning to move the
party to a pancake house. Something about eating enough starch to soak up all the beer.”
“Uh-huh. And is it possible that someone might have scooted them on their way?”
Cade asked, as rife with suspicion as the Grand Canyon was deep.
“I don’t have any idea what you mean,” Nathaniel said, so very innocently that Dennis
felt safe in confirming him as the architect of the party’s escape.
Dennis sighed. Entirely possible there was no jig left to blow—that it’d already blown to
smithereens—but be damned if he wouldn’t at least put in the effort. “Then why did you stay
to clean up? By the way, stop it. I have some friends coming over later to eat up the leftovers
and pay for them with broom and dustpan.”
“I stayed because Cade drove me here,” Nathaniel replied. The gentle rustle and clink
of cleanup noises resumed. “He seemed otherwise occupied. Speaking of, Cade, could you
help me lift this sofa? A couple of the bigger guys started to build a home theater. Or a fort. I
wasn’t sure which, but everything’s topsy-turvy. And there might be bits of broken glass.
Sorry, Dennis.”
Great. Which meant that setting foot in there, with everything rearranged, would be
about as much fun as tap-dancing through a minefield. Dennis started to scratch the bite
mark on the side of his neck, caught himself in time, and mentally slapped his hand away
from the rolled collar that covered his throat. Too heavy and hot for the weather, and it
itched abominably.
He had the oddest, most sneaking sensation that even if he did scratch, it wouldn’t
help. That only the touch of Cade’s hand would soothe the itch. And wasn’t that absolutely
super?
Cade’s uncertainty was damned near palpable. “You mind if I…?”
Dennis did not pat him on the shoulder, though wanting to nearly overcame his good
sense. Distance, for Pete’s sake! “Go ahead. I’m not in the mood to insist I take care of the mess
myself.”
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“Would you normally?”
Dennis feinted a thwack at Cade. “Of course I would. I’ve been managing my life alone
for years. I don’t need help. But I won’t turn it down, either. Is there anywhere I can at least
sit, or are all the chairs overturned?”
“There’s one where the bar used to be. At least I think it’s where the bar you had set up
used to be.” Cade whistled. He dropped his voice to a whisper that Dennis hoped Nathaniel
would be kind enough to pretend he hadn’t heard. “I know we were otherwise occupied, but
you’d think we would have heard that.”
Nathaniel started to hum a tune Dennis recognized.
“You can stay to help if you stop your brother from burbling Love Shack at us,” Dennis
said. He reached for Cade’s elbow without thinking. Standard procedure for guiding, and if
Cade had worn long sleeves he might not have noticed, but as his fingers landed on Cade’s
skin—
“Ahhhh,” Cade said, drawing the ‘h’ out far longer than any poor consonant deserved.
Laughing again too, blast his hide. He cleared his throat. “Right. Chair, over here.” He drew
in a half-hitched breath. “And hands off as soon as possible would be a good thing, yeah?”
Dennis winced in empathy. They’d barely made skin-to-skin contact, and… Yeah,
indeed. “How long did you say it was before people start going funny in the heads?”
“Not as long as I’d thought,” Cade said, sounding grim. “Chair. Now. Yes.”
Cade eyed Nathaniel. Warily.
Nathaniel beamed back. Benevolently. Then, before any tension could gather, he waved
it aside with a gesture as insubstantial as the butterflies that started hurricanes. “Help me lift
the couch? I can do it myself, but I’d rather not scratch up Dennis’ floors.”
“Uh…huh,” Cade said, not ceasing to give Nathaniel a dose of suspicious side-eye.
“Dennis, it’s the blue two-seater with fixed cushions. Where’s it go?”
“Far wall.” Dennis raised both eyebrows. “Where did they move it?”
“Put your foot out and you could give it a kick.” Cade shook his head. “On three,
Nathaniel. One—two—”
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His baby brother was stronger than he looked. That couldn’t be denied. He was also
exactly as clever as he seemed. Also a certain truth. Cade knew it the moment Nathaniel’s
gaze lighted on the new soulmark embossed on his elbow.
“It’s not what you think, so zip it,” Cade said shortly, glad of the half-ton of
upholstered excuse for keeping it terse. “Good God, what is this stuffed with? Lead ingots?”
“‘Not what I think’? Cade, unless you slipped out of his bedroom window and made a
detour to the tattoo shop on Fifty-First, there’s not much else I could make of the mark on
your elbow. Give me some credit.”
Cade ducked his head and muttered—he hoped incomprehensibly—under his breath.
Nathaniel sighed. He watched Cade too closely with those shiny amber peepers of his.
Too closely, and too sympathetically by half. “Would you believe me if I said I was happy for
you? Because I am, you know. Not just waiting for the right moment to mock you without
mercy. Even if that’s true, too.”
Cade snuck a glance over his shoulder at Dennis. They’d found his dark glasses before
they left the bathroom, and with them in place over a truly stellar example of a poker face, he
had zero to nil idea what the man might be thinking.
“You might be the only one,” Cade said, and regretted it straightaway. “Nope. I didn’t
say that. It was only the wind. Pick up your end a little higher, would you?”
Nathaniel rolled his eyes, but did as he’d been told.
Only—Cade knew—biding his time. He dropped the couch with a study thump by the
wall and dusted off his hands. “You’re not going to drop it, are you?”
Nathaniel clicked his tongue… And said nothing. Huh! Cade narrowed his eyes at his
baby brother.
Right. He knew what Nathaniel had in mind. Keeping schtum until the silence drove
Cade crazy enough to speak. He’d pulled that trick more than once before in their lives, and
it usually worked.
Cade growled. He glanced at Dennis, who might as well have been a statue save for the
idle and possibly unconscious way he fingered his soulmark, and gave up. “You know me,
Nathaniel. I wasn’t cut out for this. Fate and fortune are just having a good laugh at my
expense. And his. So drop it, okay?”
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“Cade. No, no, you’re not thinking that?” Nathaniel looked at Cade the way a wounded
puppy looked at a Milk-Bone dangled far out of reach. He reached to touch Cade’s shoulder.
“Cade?”
“What else needs moving?” Cade called to Dennis instead of answering Nathaniel. He
checked with the man—couldn’t seem to stop himself, honestly—and knew he’d made a
mistake. As best as he could tell, every time they turned their attention toward one another, it
was like turning on an electromagnet. Zoom. Poles rushed together to join with a resounding
crash. He exhaled. “Dennis?”
Dennis shook his head in silence. Know him or know him not, Cade recognized a look
of helpless frustration when he saw one. Not to mention recognizing the telltale signs of
trying to sit still while afflicted with a bad case of boneritis that would not be quashed by the
worst mental images a man could summon up.
To look at him was to want him. Cade’s soulmark started a low, sullen throbbing, like a
bruise coming into its own. A bone-deep ache that made him fidget and tugged him Dennis’
way.
He could feel Nathaniel watching them both. “Don’t do this to yourselves,” he begged.
“I’ve seen it before. I don’t want to do that again.”
“It’s not—” Cade started, too sharply. He made himself tone it down. “It’s not like
that.”
“Then how is it? And if you say you’re not ‘good enough’ or ‘marriage material’ then I
really will let you have it, Cade. Mates aren’t chosen by whim. You were brought together for
a reason. You could be better together than you think.”
“But I never thought I would have a soulmate at all. I don’t know how to do this,” Cade
said with a hiss. “I will screw up, sooner or later. That’s how I am. He should have someone
better at this than me.”
“Cade.” Nathaniel lightly touched his arm. “I can see you care for him. I could see it
starting earlier. Everyone could. Why do you think they left instead of staying to tease you?”
Cade sighed. “I’d like to think so, I just…” He shook his head. “Dennis? Nathaniel’s
folded up a stack of throw blankets. Do those need to go somewhere?”
“What?” Dennis visibly startled out of his zoned-out reverie. “Oh. Blankets. They were
supposed to protect the furniture. They can go…um… Any of the closets should do. Or drop
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them on the floor if you want. I’ll be fine by myself until my buddies show up. I’d forgotten
they were coming around.”
“Buddies. I see. Among which we aren’t numbered, is that it?” Cade asked,
unaccountably annoyed and as a result sharp enough to cut.
“It means they’re going to be here soon,” Dennis said, stressing the last word in his
sentence. He gripped the arms of his chair. “Do you want to get tangled up in explaining
yourself to strangers? Really?”
Dennis sat as still as he possibly could, though he didn’t know how much longer he’d
be able to manage it. It wasn’t even so much being absolutely physically aware of Cade’s
presence, or being tuned like an overwound guitar string to his personality.
No, it was the utterly consuming need to tackle the man and hump him like a Labrador
that’d do Dennis in.
He gritted his teeth as Cade passed. Even with a full body-length between them, Cade’s
shadow passed over his skin like a lover’s caress. More of a slap on the ass, considering this
was Cade he spoke of, but even so.
“I’ll, eh…” He waffled, tapping his toe on the floor. “Linen closet. Hallway or
bedroom?”
“Just stack them in the bottom of the bedroom closet. I’ll deal with it on laundry day.”
He felt Cade perk up. “You toss your laundry in the closet, too?”
“Why not? It’s already dirty, and it doesn’t hurt my shoes.”
“I only do the clothes when I’m forced to,” Cade admitted. He leaned palpably closer to
Dennis. “I know it’s time when the top of the pyramid touches the bottom of the hangers.”
Dennis started to laugh then clamped his mouth shut.
He could sense Cade’s wince, and for a certainty heard his ragged sigh. “Yeah. As you
were. I’ll be back in a minute.”
He counted the man’s steps as he padded past, barefooted as Dennis. Dennis wiggled
his toes restlessly to keep from tapping his foot, and to stop himself even thinking about
jumping up to follow.
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With Cade gone, Nathaniel remained. He held his tongue. Dennis would give him
credit for putting in the effort. He’d heard every bit of the scolding Nathaniel had given his
brother, but he could pretend he hadn’t heard. Or try to.
“Cade thinks he isn’t good enough?” he blurted, not a second after he’d made himself a
promise not to. At least he kept his voice low. “Are you serious?”
Nathaniel exhaled a long, quiet sigh. “He doesn’t have much self-esteem,” the boy said.
Muffled rustling started up again, the sound of tidying empty cups away. “Our older brother
didn’t have a very good time when he found his soulmate. I used to think it was a case of
‘once burned, never admit to a possibility of twice shy’, but… I think he sees himself as
damaged goods.”
Dennis snorted in disbelief.
“It’s true,” Nathaniel insisted, still meek, but utterly firm. “He is a good man, under the
skin. He just doesn’t see it.”
“Nathaniel…” Dennis started. He stopped, not knowing how to go on. “He has a life of
his own. I have a life of my own. It’s not as easy as snapping your fingers to make those two
mesh. Would it help if I said that if I was going to settle down with someone, I would have
picked a guy like Cade? It’s not a no. But it’s not a yes, yet.”
“That might help,” Nathaniel replied after a long beat. “If you told him that, and not
me. And if you accepted that whether or not you’re ready, the right time picked you.”
Okay, now that was too close to the bone. Dennis bristled. “Now listen here, you little—”
THUMP-bump-bump. Clunk.
Dennis winced. Oh hell. That’d sounded like his shoe polishing kit toppling from a
significant height. Possibly worse.
“Ow, fuck!” Cade roared. “Your closet is trying to eat me!”
“For the love of…” Dennis covered his face and groaned. He didn’t dare try to get up.
Not with a hard-on like the one that’d tormented him since he and Cade left the bedroom
together to begin with. “Nathaniel, you want to give him a hand?”
“Oh no,” Nathaniel said. He took a quick step back. “My brother, closets… No, sorry.
I’m not touching that with a ten foot pole.”
“Helpful, aren’t you?” Dennis grumped.
Nathaniel hummed, both noncommittal and excessively unhelpful. Figures.
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Dennis flicked the side of the young man’s head, then used the chair arm to lever
himself to his feet. He knew what he must look like—flushed, fidgety, and no-disguising-it-
hard. At least Nathaniel didn’t snicker or point. He even turned the music back up a few
clicks.
If he were to have a brother-in-law as well as a soulmate, he could do worse than
Nathaniel. Dennis tossed him a backward wave. “If someone comes along with their own
key and unlocks the front door, don’t worry. It’s just the friend I mentioned before. Ivan.”
Cups rattled with a percussive clatter as Nathaniel fumbled the bag. “Wait, what?”
Dennis would have answered if he’d been able to focus on anything besides Cade, Cade,
bedroom, Cade. God, but this wouldn’t be easy. He mentally crossed himself, and put his best
foot forward.
He’d taken perhaps two steps into the bedroom before Cade crowded him hard against
the wall, and set his mouth to the pulse beating fast-fast-fast in Dennis’ neck.
Dennis would have liked to think of himself as having enough moral fiber to resist, but
he didn’t. Oh fuck, but he didn’t. He hissed between his teeth and bent his head, giving Cade
all the room he wanted. Cade’s lips were hot, firm, and his mustache tickling. Though it
wasn’t easy to hear over the pulse pounding in his ears, Dennis picked up shades of, “I’d
started to think you’d never get in here.”
“Bad idea,” Dennis said—but with his arms, he wound Cade in tighter and closer. Even
brought one leg up to hook around the back of Cade’s, widening his stance, letting Cade in.
His cock ached, repressed tension bursting his seams, and when he put his hand on Cade,
well. Cade wasn’t any better off.
Dennis couldn’t make himself let go. He didn’t want to. Only managed to push his hand
inside the denim of Cade’s jeans for a better hold, and when Cade’s length surged slick and
hot into his palm, he knew he’d lost that battle. Not that he’d had a prayer to start with.
“Oh fuck, yeah. Like that, just like that,” Cade muttered over and over again, grinding
into Dennis. He had his hand down the back of Dennis’ jeans and kneaded his ass, quick and
eager. “Thought I’d embarrass myself right out there, but you, you…”
“Me, me,” Dennis said, though he barely had the breath to speak. He’d caught Cade by
the nape and held him there. He set his mouth over the artery thumping away in Cade’s
neck, right where he’d teased before… Before he knew.
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Cade stilled for a shocked second. His exhale broke against Dennis in waves, toe-
curling slivers of heat slipping under his skin.
Slowly, slowly, he knotted a hand into Dennis’ hair and bent his head further. He thrust
into Dennis’ hand, no less hard, but drawing it out.
Bad idea, bad, so bad… Why was it bad? Mate. Mine. Dennis bit, and tasted copper. Not
much. Only enough to break the skin, and holy shit, if this was what Cade had felt before—
like the fist of God hammering him one in the solar plexus. Like he was made of iron, and
been melted in a forge’s furnace. He dug his hand into Cade’s hip lest he do real damage
with a spasm of the fingers, and panted quick gasps over the bite he’d left in Cade’s flesh.
He couldn’t tell who came first, or most. Only that they both did, and that it rattled him
down beyond his bones. Shattered his world, and sent him reeling.
He tasted Cade on his lips and tongue when he drew his next breath. Under his skin,
indeed. And always would be.
Cade shuddered in his arms, still breathing too fast.
And Dennis wanted to ask—really, truly did—would it be so bad, you and me? I don’t know
you, but I think you could be a good man. Nathaniel wouldn’t adore you so if you weren’t.
And maybe I could make room for you, or you could make room for me—
He might have asked. Had his mouth open to do exactly that when his ears pricked up
at the sound of a key in the lock.
“Dennis?” Ivan called. “Are you in here—? Nathaniel? What are you doing here?”
“Oh no,” Nathaniel moaned. The bedroom door gave a jarring thump as Nathaniel’s
slight body landed against it, very nearly as hard as Dennis had before.
“Nathaniel? What are you hiding?” a deeper, chocolate-mellifluous baritone rumbled.
Cade froze.
“Robbie, I can explain. Oof! You don’t have to shove me!”
“Dennis?” Ivan asked, much closer now, and deeply suspicious. “What’s going on?”
The doorknob rattled.
“Shit,” Dennis swore, slapping at Cade to get him to move. Or to breathe, even.
Breathing would have been ace. “Shove off. Hurry up, they’re coming in—”
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Chapter Five
The door swung open, outward. Leaning on it with almost all his weight, Dennis would
have lost his balance and fallen—simple physics—if Cade hadn’t caught him quickly around
the waist and steadied him on his feet. Dennis covered his hand in quick, silent thanks for the
assist. Then he flicked finger and thumb to Cade’s wrist in a stinging snap.
“Ow! What was that for?”
“I was trying to tell you that’d happen,” Dennis said. “Listen to me next time, would
you?”
Silence from the peanut gallery, and from the group of three standing on the other side
of his bedroom door. The first time there’s a line to my quarters… Not exactly the stuff of dreams, is
it? Dennis readjusted the set of his dark glasses and made a brief, vain attempt to tidy his
hair before giving it up as a hopeless task.
Three men. One he knew to be Ivan. One would be Nathaniel, slighter and shorter and
vibrating with tension. The other must belong to that decadent baritone. Dennis offered that
one his hand. “Are you Ivan’s husband?”
A strong, dry hand that reminded him somehow of Cade’s took his in a firm shake.
“Robbie,” the man confirmed. “Husband and mate. And that would be my brother who’s got
his arm around you like you’re a stripper pole.”
Cade gave an indignant yowl—but didn’t let go. “You never told me you knew
Dennis.”
“I know a lot of people. What should I do, start a list and tick them off one by one?”
Dennis ignored their bickering. An uncomfortable notion nudged at his mind. If Robbie
was Ivan’s mate, and Cade and Nathaniel were Robbie’s brothers, then… “You’re Ivan’s
brother-in-law,” he said to Nathaniel. “No, wait, you’re not that brother-in-law.” He jolted,
and slapped Cade’s hand. “You’re ‘that’ brother-in-law?”
Cade dropped his arm and stepped back as if Dennis had landed the slap to his face,
not his hand. “Maybe I am, and maybe I’m not. What’s he told you about me?”
“Nothing that isn’t true,” Ivan butted in. “What’s going on here, really? I— Oh.”
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Belatedly, Dennis clapped a hand over his soulmark. Behind him, he heard Cade
blatantly fail to do the same. He could feel his mate bristling with indignation.
Dennis let go of the soulmark, and covered his face instead while he counted to three.
Then to ten. He gave up rather than go for twenty, and directed his focus toward Nathaniel.
“Did anyone just fall down dead, or were they struck by lightning? Anything like that?”
“Not as far as I can tell,” Nathaniel said.
“Mm-hmm.” Dennis sighed through his nose. “They’re all standing and glaring at each
other like we’re in the O.K. Corral at high noon, aren’t they?”
“Pretty much,” Nathaniel confirmed. “Mostly. Robbie’s trying not to laugh. I don’t
think he’s going to manage it for much longer. Ivan’s rolling up his sleeves—Ivan, no—”
“Ohh, I’ve been waiting for this,” Ivan said happily
Though the swing didn’t come near him, Dennis ducked. Cade didn’t.
“Are you happy now?” Robbie asked.
“More or less, yeah,” Ivan replied. He stood next to Robbie, chafing his fist and making
ow faces. “Come on, I owed him for the uppercut he gave me when he caught me kissing you
at the coliseum.”
Cade blinked up at his older brother and brother-in-law. Ivan reached down to give
him a hand up off the ground. He didn’t take it, too busy boggling at how fast the trip from
bipedal to no-pedal had happened, then with checking to see if Ivan had split his lip. He
rolled his head to check out Dennis, who looked…blank. Surprised or dismayed, Cade
couldn’t tell, but his mate damned well kept his hands to himself.
Robbie must have noticed. His gruffness softened in the way Cade remembered from
when he and Nathaniel were younger and came home with skinned knees after being
warned not to roughhouse or skateboard down city streets. He bent to give Cade a better
hand up. “Fine, but that wipes the slate clean. Separate corners for you two.”
“Fine by me if it’s fine by Cade.” Ivan shook out his hand and offered Cade a rueful
half-smile. “No hard feelings?”
“The floor was plenty hard enough.” Cade checked one last time and found his lip
starting to swell. That’d be fun to deal with. “Although if you’ve marked me…”
Ivan tousled his hair. “Man up, kid.”
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Cade rolled his eyes and flipped Ivan a half-hearted bird. He couldn’t gauge Dennis’
reaction to the kerfuffle, and that bothered him.
Nathaniel tugged at his sleeve. “Let’s go to the sunroom. It’s private enough for what
Robbie wants.”
Cade considered digging in his heels. Not so much for himself, but just in case Ivan got
fist-happy again, he didn’t care to leave his mate alone with the man. “What Robbie wants,
for what? With who?”
“To patch you up, you idiot,” Robbie said, fully embracing his Eldest Gruff persona.
There’d be no saying no to him now. “And to find out exactly what the hell is going on. Ivan,
you stay with Dennis. Get his side of it.”
Cade hesitated. “Dennis?” he asked.
Dennis shook his head and kept his mouth shut.
Not good. Damn. Cade didn’t like leaving Dennis behind… But what choice did he have,
when Dennis made no move to come with him?
* * * *
The sunroom smelled of rich vegetal pollen and honey. It’d be a hell of a pretty sight
during the day. By night, with no Dennis in there, it felt abandoned.
“The trouble you get yourself into,” Robbie said. He lifted Cade’s chin to study his face.
“You’ll have a fat lip, and probably a bruise, but I think that’s the worst of it. Want to tell me
why you’ve earned it?”
Cade tilted his head to show Robbie the bite Dennis had left on him, and angled his arm
to give Robbie the best look possible at his elbow. “I would have thought that was fairly
obvious. Exhibits A and B, Your Honor.”
Robbie flicked his ear more gently than Dennis had swatted his hand. “That’s not what
I meant and you know it, smartass.”
Nathaniel said nothing, but huddled closer to Cade’s side on the matching set of
footstools he’d stolen from Dennis’ den. Cade resisted the urge to cuddle him. Sweet little
brother. “If you’re asking why Ivan punched me, I know the answer to that. Fair’s fair.”
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“So do I. Try again,” Robbie said, implacable but gentler, as he’d become since Ivan
reentered his life.
Cade cast a glance out into the den, where Dennis had come out trailed by Ivan. Dennis
shook his head as Ivan spoke too quietly for him to make out the words. He didn’t look
shocked anymore, but neither did he look happy.
He’d always told himself mates weren’t worth the trouble, and yet still he’d always
wondered.
“What do you want me to say?” Cade asked. “He’s my mate. The three words that
changed a world. And he wants nothing to do with me now. You saw what happened. He
couldn’t distance himself fast enough when he found out who I was.”
“He was Ivan’s roommate for years,” Robbie said. “Worst case scenario, he’s heard
every single bad thing he can about this family, and possibly precious little of the good.”
Cade blinked. “That…doesn’t sound like you’re getting ready to tear a strip off of me
for getting my dirty paws all over Dennis.”
“Nathaniel, would you slap him on the back of the head for me?” Robbie didn’t wait for
Nathaniel to obey or demur. “I’m not going to shout at you for finding your mate. God
knows I’m sure you didn’t go looking for one, and I know as well as anyone how you’re
never actually given a choice. It happens. Life happens. You go along with it, or you get
mowed down. Either way, you’re never the same after.” His mouth tipped. “I could wish it’d
been someone besides a friend of Ivan’s, but you’re probably wishing that already yourself.”
“I didn’t know.” Cade rubbed at his mouth. “I didn’t want a mate. I never have. I’m not
going to be any good at this.”
Nathaniel made a small sound of protest.
“Come on, you know it’s true. Look around you.” Cade gestured with broad strokes at
the neat, tidy apartment, with everything set out in orderly lines. Well, except for the dirty
laundry in the cupboard, but anyway. “He’s got his life together, but my toast never lands
butter-side-up. I’ve tended bar since before I was legal, and done odd jobs to fill in the
corners. I’ve been inventing ways to get out of doing the laundry since before I was old
enough to tie my shoes.”
“That doesn’t mean—”
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Cade stopped Nathaniel before he could go any further. “You’re a good kid for trying,”
he said. “But don’t, okay? I know myself. I’m Mr One-Night Stand, not Mr Forever.”
“Until you met the right one,” Nathaniel said, his chin stubborn. Robbie watched them
both in silence. “Here. Look at this.” Nathaniel slipped his phone out of his pocket, poked at
the screen then handed the unit to Cade. “I took that picture before the party broke up. I’m
pretty sure you remember.”
“Don’t I just?” Cade grumped. He scowled at the phone, and the picture displayed.
Nathaniel had captured them from behind, himself and Dennis, right after the shirts had
come off and they’d been lost in each other. He squinted to make out detail in the low-quality
snap. “What am I supposed to be looking for? Besides proof that I look good on camera.”
Nathaniel did bop Cade gently on the back of his head then.
“What?” Cade rubbed his head, and thrust the phone at Robbie. “If it’s that obvious,
you tell me. What do you see?”
Robbie barely glanced at the picture. He grinned, small and pleased, but put Cade out
of his misery before Cade could do more than growl at him. “The soulmark was already
starting. You must not have noticed until it’d fully developed.”
Cade peered at the screen. He could sort of see a faint smudge on his elbow, yeah. In
the snap, it could as easily have been a bruise, and barely the size of a quarter at that.
“But that’s not what I meant, and I think it’s not what Robbie meant either.” Nathaniel
crouched down beside Cade and pointed at the picture. “It’s your face. I’ve never seen you
look at anyone like that before.”
“Like how?”
“Like they hung the moon,” Robbie said, quiet and gruff but with something so
affectionate that Cade almost wanted to hide his face. “Like they’re the gift you always
wanted, wrapped up in a bow and left under the Christmas tree.”
Cade let out a long breath. Now it’d been pointed out to him, he couldn’t un-see it. Nor
could he stop himself feeling it, deep beneath his breastbone.
Dennis emerged from the bathroom with his hair wet. Ivan trailed him like a puppy,
barely two steps behind. He spoke quietly to Dennis, but Dennis didn’t reply. He had a face
like stone, and he didn’t check in Cade’s direction once. Might as well have had a No
Trespassing sign mounted to his forehead. Cade Keep Out.
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Cade bit his lips. It didn’t matter if he wanted to try to make a go of things, did it? Hell,
he didn’t even have to ask himself what he should do. Not when he already knew. Dennis
did not want a mate. Cade might have changed his mind, but that wasn’t Dennis’ problem.
All right, then. He’d do the right thing for once if it killed him.
Cade thrust the phone back at Nathaniel and stood. “Enough. It is what it is, brother,
and it’s better this way. It won’t break my heart.” Lie. “I don’t want a mate.”
* * * *
“Feeling better now?”
“Some. I feel like I should be asking you that.” Dennis shook the damp length of his
hair out of his face, and slid the dark glasses back onto the bridge of his nose. Ivan had been
right—he did feel better after a quick cleanup. A full shower would have been better than
sticking his head under the sink and swiping all the vital bits with a damp cloth, but the idea
of leaving Cade unattended for that long made his nerves crinkle. “Did you have to hit him?”
“I really, really did,” Ivan said, reverence in every syllable. “Don’t get me wrong, I love
the little bastard. He knows that. But damn, payback is sweet.”
“Tell your knuckles that when they bruise.” Dennis oriented himself toward his front
room, where he could better hear the low rumble of Cade and his brothers talking on his
balcony. Not quite eavesdropping, but better than blank guessing. “Help me finish clearing
the den. That is what you came for, after all.”
“Originally.”
Ivan fell quiet then. Dennis mentally wagered the silence would only last a few
minutes, if that. He started a silent countdown as he folded the drop cloths Ivan passed him
and tried to listen in to the quiet conversation on the balcony. He still couldn’t pick out one
word in three of what Cade was saying. Robbie’s baritone blurred into a rumbling like a
truck rolling over gravel, and had a white-noise effect on his brother’s lighter tenor.
“You look like you’ve gone through the wringer and back again,” Ivan said at last,
disrupting his focus.
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Not a bad opening gambit, and also an accurate one. Dennis acknowledged the sally
with a quiet grunt and carried on with his folding. He kept one ear open for Cade. Couldn’t
seem to help himself.
Ivan tried again. “Somebody made a hell of a mess with your stereo system. Looks like
house elves were playing Twister with the wires attached to their ankles.”
“I wouldn’t doubt it.” Dennis turned to address the setup. Yikes. Ivan hadn’t
exaggerated. “Swell. There’s not much worse than tangled power cords. I know what you’re
thinking, Ivan. I can feel the overprotective, worried vibes like a corduroy cape. We’re
marked. Not much I can do about it.” Even if I wanted to. “He doesn’t match the stories you
told about the trouble he gets himself in. He’s not exactly a model of propriety, but neither
am I. He seems all right to me.”
Ivan ambled up to lend a hand with the wires. Though Dennis didn’t need the help, he
decided he might as well indulge the man, and Ivan did have a gift for cutting to the heart of
things.
“Well… Cade’s a manchild,” Ivan said. “And he’s wild. Always rebelling. Always
getting into trouble.”
Dennis made a noncommittal noise in the back of his mouth. “And?”
“And maybe that’s partly my fault,” Ivan said. “I don’t know. Feels like it could have
been. He saw me and Robbie break each other to pieces when he was at the right age for that
sort of thing to leave a lasting impression. But whether it is or isn’t my fault, he’s still a
handful, Dennis.”
Yes, he was, and Dennis’ palms tingled with the sense memory. “I can take care of
myself, you know.”
“Of course. But do you want to take care of Cade, too?” Ivan let go of the wires. He
wouldn’t be so easily distracted, then. “I’m not saying ‘No, don’t, run away’. I am saying ‘Be
careful’. I know as well as anyone that the way you handle finding a mate makes all the
difference in the world. There’s so much I wish I’d done differently. If I had to have made
mistakes, then at least maybe someone could learn from them.”
“Mmm,” Dennis vocalized. He saw the sense in what Ivan said. Truly, he did. He didn’t
know Cade well enough to gauge how much of it came from personal prejudice, and how
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much might be the truth. “I haven’t made up my mind yet, and that’s the truth, but he seems
like a good fit. I wouldn’t mind so much having a mate like him, if he—”
So far, Dennis hadn’t picked up much in the way of discourse from the balcony. But
now, clear as a bell, came the words— “I don’t want a mate. Not even Dennis. I mean that,
Robbie. Leave it.”
After that, silence.
Well then. Dennis bit the inside of his cheek. Deliberately, very deliberately, he crouched
to find the wires and neatened them with quick whips of the wrist.
“See?” Ivan asked with a groan. “Trouble. Exactly what I was hoping wouldn’t
happen.”
Dennis could have said the same thing. He didn’t. He wound the cords and wires into a
neat figure eight loop around his hand and wrist, each one as neat and tight as if it’d just
come out of the box. Maybe too neat and too tight. Not that it mattered.
Why should it matter, anyway?
Something of how deeply—unexpectedly marrow-deep—that’d cut must have shown
in his face. Ivan sighed. “Dennis…”
“No,” Dennis said, still calm. “It’s all right. Better I know that now.” It wasn’t as if he’d
been unaware before. He’d never wanted a mate before, either. Cade hadn’t changed his
mind? Fine. Dennis wouldn’t, either. He’d be fine on his own. He’d make do.
“Now hang on a minute,” Ivan said. He tried to step in front of Dennis as Dennis
turned. Probably thinking Dennis meant to make for the balcony. “I never told you to
pretend it hadn’t happened.”
Fine choice of words. Dennis snorted. “I know you didn’t. But if that’s his choice, then I’ll
abide by it. He has his life, Ivan. I have mine. Maybe it’ll even be for the best.”
Ivan said nothing. Dennis could feel the shift in his mood from argumentative to
confounded.
More, he could feel Cade’s regard. He knew he’d been heard? So be it. Dennis heard
him shift his weight, and could imagine a wealth of rueful regret in that stance.
He laid the wires aside, and raised his voice to make sure Cade could hear him. To be
certain he’d understand Dennis would let them both off the hook. “It’s all right, Cade,” he
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said. “You know as well as I do that I never wanted a mate any more than you did.
Pretending was fun, for an hour or two, but we’re living in the real world.”
Dennis chose to ignore the sound of an elbow thwacking into Cade’s ribs. Aside from a
grunt, Cade did him the courtesy of pretending it hadn’t happened. Dennis liked that. Hell,
maybe they could be friends. That wouldn’t be so bad, right? He’d have to see about hanging
out with the guy—after he came back from Key West.
“You’re sure?” Cade asked after the silence became almost too heavy and awkward to
bear.
Dennis’ heart softened toward him. He hadn’t asked for this either. “I’m sure. Now.
How about some breakfast?”
Cade hesitated almost too long before he replied, but when he did, he sounded like the
cocky fellow who’d crashed Dennis’ party without a morsel of regret. “I could do breakfast.
How are you at scrambling eggs?”
Dennis let out a breath. “Not bad. Come and judge for yourself.”
Very deliberately, he ignored Nathaniel’s small, despairing groan and led the way to
the kitchen himself.
* * * *
All right, then. It might have felt like a slap, but if this was how Dennis wanted to play it,
then Cade would take the cards he’d been dealt. He’d known better than to think he could
have the romance of the century.
No, this arrangement would prove far better for both of them. They’d satisfied the
demands of their mating bond. Might have a little extra lust left over, but Cade and his right
hand had a steady working relationship. They’d be fine without living in one another’s
pockets.
Hell, they might follow through on their intentions and actually become friends.
Cade watched Dennis stirring a skillet of creamy-silky scrambled eggs before layering
them with thickly sliced bacon on toast golden with butter, and stubbornly ignoring the fact
that it wasn’t yet four in the morning. The man had spunk and style, and even pizazz.
Friends. Cade thought he’d like that.
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He became sure of it when Dennis rapped Ivan’s knuckles with a wooden spoon. “Stop
flinching and giving me those mournful looks, okay? It’s not the end of the world. Let us
handle the situation ourselves, please and thank you.”
Cade chuckled, and did his part by ignoring Nathaniel’s sad-eyed looks as well as
Robbie’s deepening frown of disapproval. Knowing how to let those slide right off his back
had served him pretty well over the years, and he didn’t see any reason to stop working the
mojo now.
Spooning one last bite of eggs in, he pushed away from the kitchen counters where
they’d all eaten picnic-style. “Nathaniel, you want a lift home?”
“I might.” Nathaniel patted his pockets, concern growing in the set of his mouth and
the speed of his search. “Do you see my phone anywhere?”
Dennis raised one eyebrow. “What model do you have?”
“Oh gosh, I don’t remember that. Cade, do you know?”
Cade frowned. Something about Nathaniel’s upset didn’t quite sit right, but he couldn’t
put his finger on exactly what. “You had it in the sunroom. I’ll bet it’s still there.”
“I didn’t see him put it down,” Robbie said. “Did you?”
They were up to something. Cade would bet his last dollar on that. He leaned out of the
kitchen, craning his neck to scan the tables and shelves jammed with potted plants. “It’s right
there, next to the whatchamacallit. The sage. Problem solved.”
“Would you mind grabbing it for me?”
Cade started to object. Honest, he did. He stopped when it occurred to him—a free
crack at Nathaniel’s phone? The one with the name and address of his soulmate?
He shot Nathaniel a wary stare. Are you serious?
Nathaniel didn’t seem to notice as he carried his plate, as well as Robbie and Ivan’s, to
the sink. Cade noticed that Robbie and Ivan, as well as himself, watched Nathaniel with
matching frowns as he rolled up his sleeves and reached for a bottle of dish soap. “Cade?” he
prompted. “You grab my phone, I’ll handle these, and we’ll go. Promise.”
“You don’t have to do the dishes,” Dennis said. He didn’t hit Nathaniel with his spoon,
but Cade had a feeling that he’d seriously considered the option.
Robbie shook his head. “It’s not personal. Nathaniel would fret himself sick if he wasn’t
a good guest. Telling him no is like stepping on a puppy. I can’t do it.”
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Cade watched Dennis roll his eyes. “For heaven’s sakes. Fine. I’ll go get the phone. I
know where the sage is.”
Which would be fine, only— “I said I’d get it,” Cade objected, trying to step in front of
Dennis. He tripped over his feet halfway through the living room, but recovered from his
fumble and hopped into the greenhouse.
Dennis didn’t stop either. “My house, my rules.”
“My brother,” Cade argued. He made a dive for the planter. Ha ha! Safe!
Dennis stood over him, shaking his head. A hint of a grin tugged at his lips. “My God,
you are ridiculous. What’s so important about this phone?”
“Nothing as such,” Nathaniel said behind Dennis. “But as I was hoping, curiosity killed
the cat.”
And with that, he swung the sunroom door firmly closed.
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Chapter Six
Nathaniel’s little trick didn’t quite take Cade by surprise—or so Cade vowed he’d swear
even if a questioner held a gun to his head. He did, however, have enough of the advantage
to swing the door shut one step ahead of Cade, with the end result of his sliding the lock
home while Cade braked to avoid bashing his nose flat.
Cade pounded the door with his fist instead. “Are you serious?”
“As a heart attack,” Nathaniel said, only slightly muffled by the barrier between them.
“If I promised I was sorry, would that help?”
“Not a prayer.”
“Then it’s just as well I’m not sorry.”
Cade stole a glance over his shoulder. Dennis had turned to gently bang his head
against the wall. Great. Super. Swell, and even peachy.
“You realize I have your phone out here,” he shouted. “‘All your privacy are belong to
me.’”
“Should have known you’d be a meme guy,” Dennis muttered. “Moon Moon.”
“Such wow, many smart,” Cade shot back. “Honey badger don’t care.”
Geekery didn’t bother him, especially when Dennis cracked a grin at that.
What did get right up his nose was the severe lack of dignity, and a growing frustration
with doors. He’d never be able to look his Morrissey poster in the face again. He rattled the
knob, which clattered heartily but didn’t budge the sturdy lock. “Nathaniel, I swear by all the
liquor in the cabinets, if you don’t let us out now—”
“All right, now, enough of that,” Robbie rumbled outside. Cade two-stepped back, fast.
He’d seen Robbie tear phone books in half. The man had serious arm strength.
And a twisted sense of humor. He banged the door once, only once, and half-heartedly.
“Damn. I think it’s jammed,” he said, his robot impression somewhat marred by the
occasional snicker. “Too bad.”
Cade raised his eyes to the heavens. Behind him, Dennis sighed.
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“Exactly what are you trying to accomplish here?” Cade demanded. “Anyone? Don’t all
speak at once.”
Nathaniel was the one to answer. “Accomplish something, us? Heavens, no. But don’t
worry. We’ll get you out. There must be a twenty-four hour locksmith somewhere in the
city.”
“They are serious,” Dennis said blankly. “Are all your family insane?”
“Yes,” Cade replied.
“I think I know of one.” Ivan chose that moment to add his two cents. “They might be
out of business, but we can go and check. Never know unless you try, right?”
“Ivan, I will murder you,” Dennis growled.
Not that it helped. Ivan thumped the door with far too much cheer for three in the
morning. “Sit tight, guys. We’ll be back in an hour. Maybe two. At least by dawn.”
“Murder. In cold blood.”
“I’ll bring you back some coffee,” Nathaniel promised. “You can use the phone in case
of emergencies, but it’s not actually mine. It only looks like mine. Sorry.”
Cade’s jaw dropped. “Why, you— You tricked me?”
No answer came but the sound of feet in sturdy shoes, boots and sneakers thump-
padding away. Leaving Cade alone with his mate, and absolutely nothing else to do except
face one another.
Dennis had dropped his head into his hands, and started making muffled noises. Not
groans of frustration. Not even stifled curses. More like desperate attempts to swallow
laughter.
But to be sure… “Are you all right?” Cade asked.
“The bastards,” Dennis said. When he looked up, Cade saw amazement mingled with
reluctant admiration written on his face. “Do you believe the nerve of them?”
Cade fought, mostly unsuccessfully, to hide the twitching of his own lips. If he—Cade—
had pulled the prank on someone else, he would have counted it his finest hour. “I grew up
with them, remember? Considering what they could have done, I’d say we’re getting off
light. Even so, mind if I help you with that murdering business?”
“Not at all,” Dennis said. “I’ll bring the ropes, you bring the knives.”
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“Sounds like a plan to me.” The door rattled—likely from a good sturdy kick, Dennis
judged. “Mind if I sit, too? God knows how long it’ll be before they come back and let us
out.”
Dennis didn’t mind at all. “Help yourself. In fact, I think I’ll join you. Mi casa es su casa.”
“Very kind.”
“Isn’t it, though?” Dennis checked to be sure no one had moved any of the tables laden
with potted plants, and was satisfied that the open space in the middle had remained
unmolested by any party-goers. When he and Cade sat, their ankles knocked one against the
other. Dennis gave him a light kick, the equivalent of a love tap. “You really think they’ll
leave us in here?”
Cade returned the kick, easy and playful. “Without a doubt. Until when? No idea. If
Robbie was the one in charge, I’d say fifteen minutes at the most, but I’ll bet you Nathaniel’s
the mastermind behind this. It smells like his work, and he’s nowhere near the pushover
Robbie is.”
“The guy who sounds about six feet tall and is, as far as I could tell, built like a
linebacker?” Dennis asked, curious.
“One and the same.”
Dennis sighed, and stretched his arms over his head. “Figures. Although I’ll bet you
Ivan’s still out there. Him, leave you utterly alone with me? I doubt it.”
“Sounds like him.” Cade made a grumbling, disgruntled sound. Funny thing about
body language, though. He slipped one foot between Dennis’ ankles and left it there, idly
kicking back and forth with him. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. And I don’t say that often.”
Dennis frowned. “What are you sorry for?”
Cade’s aura prickled with confusion. “For mostly everything, I guess? You told me
yourself that you didn’t want a soulmate. I started to assume. I do that. Should have told you
to swat me with a rolled-up newspaper if I was getting out of control.”
“Your mouth is moving, and words are coming out, but they’re still not making any
sense.” Dennis bent at the waist to lean forward and catch Cade’s fidgety foot by the ankle.
He used the handhold to pull himself forward, scooting across the floor. “Try again. This
time using words that are meant to go together.”
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Cade took Dennis’ wrist and held him there. He’d gone about halfway, so their legs
bracketed one another. His knees rested by Dennis’, strong and lean. Not knobby. Actually
rather nice, as such things went. “You don’t want a soulmate,” he said. “And you ended up
stuck with me.”
Nope, still wasn’t helping. “You’re the one who said you didn’t want a soulmate,”
Dennis reminded him. He drew his eyebrows together. “I heard you just now, when you
were talking to Robbie. I know you meant for me to hear.”
“I said it so you wouldn’t feel tied down!”
“And it’s not the truth?” Dennis demanded.
Cade made a frustrated noise and tapped a staccato rhythm on Dennis’ wrist. “Right.
Wipe the slate clean. We both said it, back at the beginning, and I know we both meant it.”
“But that was at the beginning. I thought…” Dennis sighed and sat back, letting go of
Cade to prop himself on his arms. “Stupid of me, I guess. I thought you’d started to change
your mind.”
“I did,” Cade said after a pause that smacked of surprise. “That’s why… You know. I
thought you hadn’t.”
“Was that why—?”
“It wasn’t, for you?”
Dennis groaned. He pulled himself upright, reaching for Cade’s wrist—or ankle, either
would do—and got lucky by catching his hands. “You are so incredibly frustrating.”
“Yeah, well.” Cade toyed with Dennis’ fingers. “And you’re not?”
“No, I know I am. And what’s this about being ‘stuck with you’? I might as well turn
that around and say poor you for being stuck with me. I’m not that easy to get along with.
Ivan was about the only long-term friend I had for years. No, it’s true,” he said to Cade’s
disbelieving scoff. “I walked around with a chip on my shoulder for years and years. Now I
wonder if it matches yours. Probably does. I didn’t want a soulmate. But if it’s you, then
that’s not such a bad thing. I could learn to live with that.”
Silence. Dennis had begun to learn how to read Cade’s moments of quietude, and
thought this one would match up to a stunned expression, with a hint of a smile.
“That’s as good as a declaration of love, isn’t it?” Cade asked.
“Don’t push your luck.”
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“It is,” Cade said. He scooted closer to Dennis, inviting him silently to do the same with
his body language. They fit together rather better than Dennis would have envisioned, when
he’d first met the man. “You really would want to give it a try? With me?”
“Rather you than anyone else I’ve ever met,” Dennis said honestly. He liked the feel of
Cade’s hand in his. His fingers were longer, more agile, his palm dry and warm. “It’s funny.
People always said ‘It’s different when it happens to you’. I never believed them.”
Cade fitted his palm to Dennis’. “Me either. Now I wonder. It wouldn’t be easy, you
know. I’m rude and hard to pin down and I don’t take life very seriously. Usually. You might
get tired of me.”
“I’m sorry, were you on your best behavior tonight?” Dennis asked. He enjoyed Cade’s
huff of amusement in response. “No? Me either. What you see is what you get, and if you
aren’t any worse than this on a regular basis, I have a funny feeling we’d work out just fine.
Which is, as I understand it, kind of the point with soulmates.”
“To take each other as we are,” Cade said.
Dennis nodded. He stroked Cade’s skin, appreciating the texture and the lean muscles
beneath. “Someone who’ll know I’m human, and deal with me accordingly. Same goes for
you. And if you ever forget, I’ll remind you.”
“And if you’re being an idiot, I’ll tell you, and you’ll tell me.” The shape of Cade’s
mouth changed beneath his questioning fingers, transforming from frown to small but
widening smile. “That’s it? That’s all?”
“I think I could manage that much.” Dennis took Cade’s hand between both of his then
reached to rest one palm at Cade’s nape. “I’m up for it if you are. At least giving it a try.
You’re not what I expected, but I could get addicted to you. You’re what I needed. So. Want
to?”
Cade’s shoulders shook briefly with amusement. “Oh, they’re all going to rue the day
you and I crossed one another’s paths.”
“With any luck,” Dennis said. “Now shut up and kiss me.”
That, Cade would be more than happy to do. Only—
“You are aware Ivan’s out there, right?” he asked Dennis. “Odds are he’s listening as
closely as he can to everything going on in here.”
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“Of course I do.” Dennis grinned, lazy and naughty at the same time. Made him look
like a high-school prankster planning serious mischief. “So when we get down to the good
stuff, make sure and turn the volume up to eleven. No holding back.”
Cade whistled. “You can be downright evil when you put your mind to it, can’t you?”
Of which he approved. He coaxed Dennis into his lap, astride him, Dennis’ knees to the floor
on either side of his hips, and slid his hands beneath Dennis’ loose tee. Smooth skin, body
warm, muscles flexing as he tickled them awake.
“Darn right.” Dennis tapped Cade’s chest. “Always remember, payback’s only a bitch
on one side of the equation.”
“You and I are going to have so much fun together.”
“And you can start any time.”
Cade clicked his tongue in pretend reproach. “I am. Talking’s part of foreplay, isn’t it?
And foreplay gets you more play.”
“I can think of better things for you to do with your tongue.”
“Is that a hint? Lucky you, I know how to take one.” Cade bent his head to nuzzle at
Dennis’ neck. The spot he’d set his teeth to earlier would heal soon, but not soon enough for
him. It would scar. So would Dennis’ bite. Marked for all to see.
And touch, he thought, stroking fingertips against the now fully set mark on Dennis’
elbow. Would that taste different—feel unlike the skin on the rest of Dennis’s arm?
Only one way to find out.
With one arm around Dennis’ back, careful to keep him from falling, Cade lowered
them both to the floor. Moonlight sheeted over them, suggesting a blissful wash of sunlight
during the day. Mmm. He’d have to bring Dennis back here. Bet you he likes to bask.
Dennis settled on the floor with a contented sigh. “Now that’s what I’m talking about.
More.”
Cade hummed a reply into the dent between Dennis’ collarbones. Warm, firm skin that
smelled of spicy herbs, springy with health, dusted with dark ginger curls from his nipples to
his navel. He nosed his way down Dennis’ chest and took one of the flat copper nubs
between his teeth to worry at it with a playful growl.
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“Oh—” Dennis’ breath hitched. He thrust his hand deep into Cade’s hair and raised one
knee, giving Cade more room to slip between his legs. Cade palmed his cock, pleased at the
steady rise and sturdy stiffness growing under his touch.
Because he could—he had that option now—he chose not to let go. Cade scooted
Dennis’ shirt higher, higher, and off, casting it into a corner. He pressed his mouth to Dennis’
nipples, biting until they were raised, then licking them furled. Curious, he nosed into the
warm hair beneath Dennis’s arm and tickled at the sensitive skin with the prickliness of his
own stubble.
Dennis didn’t lie idle. He brought his knee higher, then around Cade, humming and
exhaling, then drawing in sharp sips of breath when Cade undid the drawstring of Dennis’
trackies and slipped his hand inside for a better grip. His nails drew light scratches down
Cade’s back. A fine perspiration stung in the faint scrapes that made Cade arch his neck and
hiss with appreciation.
“Like it rough, hmm?” Dennis asked.
“Rough and tumble,” Cade said, easing the loosened track pants down Dennis’ hips,
and following that with the slide of his body. He pressed his nose to the crisp curls at Dennis’
groin as Dennis raised his hips to rub against him. “Only way to fly.”
Dennis hissed between his teeth. “God, don’t think I’m not tempted, but…”
The unspoken question mark pricked Cade’s curiosity. He raised his head, and
delicately raked the soft skin around Dennis’ navel with his nails as he spoke. “Got
something else in mind?”
Dennis’ grin widened, growing edges and a wicked curve. “Want to fuck you. Can I?”
Could he? Good God. Cade let out a quiet oof and reached for himself, not sure if he
wanted a stave-off squeeze or a lickety-split decision to keep going.
He knew Dennis could interpret a hell of a lot from the tiniest of cues, and he did so
now, laughing deep in his chest. “I take it you like that idea. Someone prefers to bottom,
hmm?”
“Not all the time,” Cade said. Fair disclosure and all that. “But would I like to bottom
for you? Hell yes. Bring it.”
Dennis slapped Cade’s biceps. “Then get yourself up here.”
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“Unless you’re planning on using spit,” Cade said. Not that it would have stopped him
at that point, but a man did have to set some ground rules. He stepped out of his jeans—with
a helping hand or two from Dennis—handy man, that one—and kicked them aside. They
could keep Dennis’ shirt company. He lingered for a moment, savoring the rough slide of
Dennis’ hands on his bare hips.
“Spit?” Dennis said, not ceasing to stroke Cade across the grain, and into the sweet
spot. “Please. You forget who you’re talking to. I keep supplies stashed everywhere. Try under
the pot of fenugreek.”
“Greek style. I like the way you think.”
Cade had no idea what fenugreek looked like. He did have a nose for trouble, and a
decent instinct for getting himself in and out of same. He made a “Ha!” noise when he found
the pot with the false bottom and tipped it on its side to spill out the goodies.
Packet of lube in his teeth, cock hanging heavy between his legs, Cade returned to
Dennis and dropped the pouch on his stomach. “How’s that for delivery service?”
Dennis blew him a kiss as he sat up. “Not bad. Hands and knees, you. Now.”
He knew what he was doing, that one. Cade let Dennis manhandle him—well, more
like ‘actively participated’. Love a good man handling. The floor suited Cade. Something raw
and wrong and deliciously dirty about going at it like animals always had tickled his fancy.
He bowed his head and rolled his shoulders, offering himself up for his mate’s delectation.
Dennis swore under his breath. His hands were everywhere, first stroking, then
kneading. Slick fingers slipped into Cade, too fast and too rough and exactly right, one-two-
three, no holding back and no polite pretense. “God, you…”
“Like what you see?” Cade asked, chuckling under his breath. He wanted to reach for
his cock, and wanted to save it for Dennis, too. Decisions, decisions.
Dennis saved him the trouble of deliberation by draping himself over Cade before the
question could drag on. Sharp and sexy. Hell of a two-fer. He nuzzled beneath Cade’s chin,
nipping tiny love bites that Cade knew would show up like a row of carnelian kisses. “More
than. But can you put your money where your mouth is? That’s the real question. Let’s see
what you’ve got.”
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“You’ve already had it twice.” Cade arched his back and shivered with anticipation.
The roll of Dennis’ hips was fluid as waves marching to shore, and oh, so very promising.
“Insatiable much?”
“You have no idea.”
“I’m starting to get an inkling.”
“Starting to,” Dennis said. Cade moaned as Dennis guided himself in, and sank deep.
“Fuck,” he gasped. “Oh, fuck. Tight. Hold on.”
Cade braced himself—and a good thing, too. Dennis might have been a player, but he
wasn’t playing now. The first stroke shocked Cade into a moan, the second a growl, and the
third a chest-deep shout.
“Good?” Dennis asked, hand stealing beneath Cade to take him without prompting. He
squeezed, clumsily but with enough affection to count, and rubbed his thumb at the most
sensitive spot. “Sounds good.”
Cade rolled his head against the carpet. He’d have rug burns on his forehead after this.
“Fucking fantastic, and you know it. Don’t stop, keep going— Dennis—”
“Not stopping. Never stopping.”
Eyes tight shut, teeth at his lip, Cade shuddered as Dennis kept his promise. Hard, fast,
and fierce, he pounded Cade until they both shouted fit to make Cade’s ears ring. He came
with a jolt, juddering forward and spilling over Dennis’ hand.
Dennis mouthed and licked at Cade’s nape. He’d buried himself deep, so deep, and yet
still he moved, as if he wanted to go deeper still. Cade turned his head as best as he could,
and to hell with awkwardness. He caught the edge of Dennis’ mouth with his teeth when the
man gave one last push, then stilled and swore, spilling out a thick susurrus of words that
turned the ripe air blue.
He collapsed atop Cade’s back and groaned. “God. Think you killed me.”
Cade snorted. “Wait till it’s my turn to do you.”
“Charmer, charmer, charming as always,” Dennis chided groggily. He eased himself
out and down onto his flank, bringing Cade along for the ride. Not for cuddling on his chest,
but for lying side by side with their foreheads pressed together.
“You love it,” Cade said, secure in his guesswork. He shifted his hips and purred in
appreciation. He’d be feeling that for days. “Talk about setting the bar, though.”
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“Gives you something to work toward.” Dennis cracked one sleepy eye open. “Swear
to… I never met anyone else who’d talk straight after sex. Thought I was a freak.”
“You are. And so am I.”
“Good enough,” Dennis said. He yawned between the words, stretching his arms over
his head, and curled up with one hand beneath his cheek. “And our studio audience…?”
Cade cocked his head. There was a certain horrified, deeply embarrassed aura to the
silence outside. He sniggered, Dennis joining in. “Satisfied. Almost certain never to speak of
this again. Not bad for a night’s work.”
“Not bad at all.” Dennis took a breath. “So. Still in?”
As if he had to ask! Cade took Dennis’ hand in his and laced their fingers. “You’d better
believe it. It’s you and me, from here on out. Just as we are. Though there is the question of
you leaving town next week for a vacation in the sun. How do you propose we handle that?”
Dennis grinned broadly. “I might have an idea.”
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Epilogue
Sunlight.
Dennis burrowed his toes in the soft, brilliantly hot sands and crossed his wrists behind
his head. He could feel himself baking up nicely beneath his layer of tanning lotion. To heck
with caution. He lived in the heart of the city fifty-one weeks out of the year. He could
overdose on Vitamin D on vacation if he liked.
Cade didn’t dislike it, either. Dennis put out a lazy hand to stroke down the length of
his mate’s arm from marked elbow to wrist. Cade remarked on every single curious look
they got, with their shirts off and their marks so prominently on display, and added some
brightly colored commentary of his own.
God, but this was the good life. And he’d thought he wanted none of it?
Dennis whistled under his breath. I’ve never been gladder to be wrong.
Cade scooted an inch closer on the beach towels they’d laid side by side and took
Dennis’ hand in his, toying with the knuckles. Paler by nature, he’d had a skin like a boiled
lobster after their first day in Key West, but he was a trooper, that one. He’d come around.
Might even have something resembling a tan by the time they went back to the real world.
Not that Dennis was in any hurry for that.
Languid, he idled on the sand and tilted his head to listen in on Cade’s conversation.
Clever Cade, who had no shame, had turned the volume on his phone up to maximum
decibels to allow Dennis the opportunity of listening in whenever he liked.
“Say what, again?” Cade demanded.
“From the beginning, or just the middle bits?” Nathaniel asked.
Dennis crinkled his nose. He could get used to having a kid brother, even if only in-law.
“Tell the brat I said hello.”
“Dennis says hello, and also asks you not to be a smartass,” Cade said. “That’s my
shtick.”
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Nathaniel giggled. He was one of the few men Dennis had ever known who could pull
it off without more camp than an army bivouac. “All right, calm down. I said, I hope you
don’t have any plans for the weekend after you’re back from the beach.”
“Because…” Cade prompted. “Go on, say it again.”
“Because you’re going to help me move in with my mate,” Nathaniel replied.
“And does he know about this?”
“Not yet.”
“Is he going to know about it before we show up with a U-Haul?”
“Mmm… Maybe.” Nathaniel laughed again.
Cade made a pained noise. “Are we at least going to know his name before you shack
up with the guy?”
“Oh, yes.”
“And it is…” Cade prompted, thumping his and Dennis’ joined hands into the sand. “It
is…?”
“You’ll find out,” Nathaniel said. “But I will give you a hint. You know him. You’ve
met him before. Twice, in fact.”
Dennis propped himself on his elbows. He’d gotten drawn into Cade’s obsessive-
compulsive fixation on discovering the identity of Nathaniel’s soulmate despite himself.
“Okay, so, Cade has met him. But have I met him?”
“Ooh, good question. And the answer is no, Dennis, you haven’t.”
Cade groaned. “You’re killing me here, Nathaniel.”
“I know. Have fun with the rest of your trip!”
“Arrgh.” Cade face-planted into the sand, casting up a cascade of granules that
promptly coated Dennis in a fine, gritty mist.
Dennis clicked his tongue as he took the phone Cade pushed into his hand. “Drama,
drama.”
“Has he always been such a little shit?” Cade asked. Dennis knew—had never had to
learn—to listen to the tone Cade used, not the words. He couldn’t have been more pleased
with the key to the city on a silver platter.
“You’re asking me? Besides, he’s your blood relation. I’m fairly sure that means yes, he
was.”
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“Hmm. Am I offended, or am I flattered?” Cade flipped onto his belly and tangled
ankles with Dennis, heedless of the grit.
Dennis stroked a line down his back as a fair trade return. “Flattered, definitely.”
“Good answer.” Cade exhaled a long, contented breath. “Of all the places I’ve roamed,
I’ve never been to the beach before. Never wanted to, and trust me when I promise you’ll be
the one paying my doctor’s bills for skin grafts if I burn again.”
Dennis laughed quietly to himself. “You love it, and you know it.”
“Could be that I do,” Cade said. Cheeky, always cheeky, and it suited him. He stood
with a rush of energy and scattering sand, pulling Dennis to his feet. “And it could be that I
love you, too.”
“Such a charmer.” Dennis kissed the tip of Cade’s jaw. “So… Never been a beach
bunny, hmm?”
He felt Cade perk up. “Never. Got another ‘first’ in mind for me?”
“Depends. If you beat me to the water, then I might just take you to Naked Thursday at
the Cove.”
“Naked what?” Cade hooted. “That’s not real. Is it? Wait, is that an actual thing?”
Dennis tipped his head back to laugh, loud and happy. “Maybe. Catch me, and find
out!” He tagged Cade on the sunburned shoulder and started running. No need to worry
about tripping, for he was sure Cade would be right behind him, tackling him into the sand.
Cade with him, by his side, the zesty relish that’d add spice to the rest of their lives.
And so he was.
Coming Soon from Totally Bound Publishing:
Soulmarked: All Along
Willa Okati
Released 31
st
October 2014
Excerpt
Chapter One
The day the coliseum opened
“Nathaniel.” A rough, gentle hand on Nathaniel’s shoulder jostled him out of a deeper
sleep than he usually enjoyed. “Nathaniel? Time to get up.”
Nathaniel stirred, pressing his cheek against the soft, rumpled cotton of his sheets. He
blinked once, then twice, as he knuckled under his eyes. “What time is it?” The room seemed
as dark as midnight, but that couldn’t be true if Robbie was shaking him out of bed.
“Nearly seven. You’ll be late for work.”
“What?” Nathaniel shook his head. “That can’t be right. My alarm’s set for six.”
“Must not have gone off.” Robbie clumsily yet affectionately, tousled Nathaniel’s hair.
He’d all but raised Nathaniel from childhood, but he never had gotten much polish to his
manners. Nathaniel didn’t mind. He liked Robbie best the way he was, and he knew Robbie
understood that without having to ask—or be told.
He knocked his shoulder against Robbie’s leg to say thank you without speaking aloud.
“Give me a minute.”
“Sixty seconds and not much more, or you really are going to miss your bus,” Robbie
warned. Then added, “I’ll start some breakfast going for you. Just this one time.”
Nathaniel rubbed sleep from his eyes, blinking at Robbie as his oldest brother made his
exit. He was a good man—Robbie—though he probably wouldn’t have described himself
that way—a good man with a kind heart underneath the layer of gruff.
Oof, but Nathaniel’s head didn’t like the idea of him moving around. A light ache
thrummed at his temples like an over-tight guitar string given a hard pluck.
Maybe I’m coming down with something, he mused sleepily, still disinclined to crawl out
of his nest of cozy blankets and soft flannel sheets. Such was the common fate of a public
librarian, out there where germs crawled over sticky hands and soared merrily through the
smoggy city air. His brothers called him a kitten, teasing, for his love of snuggling down into
warmth wherever he could find it, but today the bed almost demanded he curl up with his
head under the pillow and rest.
No could do, though. He had his share of the rent to pay, even if Robbie muttered and
grumbled about taking his money every month. Nathaniel pushed back the light, fluffy
weight of his duvet and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Oof. He’d give himself an A
for effort, but would have to take away five points for stopping there to massage his temples.
Honestly, now. He didn’t even drink, except on holidays. Something must be up. He
stretched then kneaded his joints to work out the kinks. He—
Wait. What’s this? Nathaniel tried to blink away the morning fog in his eyes to peer
down at the cap of his shoulder. He’d felt a strangely rough patch beneath his fingertips.
“Look who slept in for once!” Cade crowed, his only warning before he landed on
Nathaniel’s bed with a teeth-jarring thump. Far less gentle than Robbie by nature, he grabbed
Nathaniel in a headlock and scrubbed his knuckles over Nathaniel’s scalp.
Nathaniel had been made slender as a willow tree by the hand of Mother Nature, but he
had more strength in his limbs than people gave him credit for—especially Cade. He pushed
at Cade with an indignant yelp, getting him a good one in the ribs. “Stop it, you bastard.”
“That’s a nice thing to say about our parents,” Cade retorted, sounding slightly winded.
“Damn. Who taught you to use your elbows like that?”
“As I remember, you did.”
“Details, details,” Cade said, dismissing that. “Let me get a look at those guns,
though—whoa.”
Nathaniel crossed his arms in a flurry of instinct and indignation. “I said stop, Cade!”
Cade didn’t make a move toward him. He sat as still as a scarecrow, his eyes wide and
surprised.
“Don’t say a word,” Nathaniel warned him.
He should have saved his breath. “Was that a soulmark?” Cade demanded, breaking
his startled stillness to make a grab for Nathaniel’s shoulder. “Since when do you have a
soulmark? Who is it for?”
At least he kept his voice low, a hot-rushing whisper. Nathaniel started to reply—then
stopped himself. The new soulmark—for a soulmark it was—almost hummed beneath his
fingertips. As best as he could tell, it was shaped like an iris nearly ready to open—both the
flower, and the eye, somehow both at the same time. He could have said so, but oh no. Give
Cade an inch, and he would take not one, but two, miles.
“None of your business,” he said instead of the I don’t know that he’d meant to answer
with.
Then he groaned on the inside. He did know better than that. No chance on earth Cade
would leave it alone now.
“I mean it,” Nathaniel said anyway, standing up and making a grab for a blanket to
drape around his shoulders. He did that often enough that Robbie shouldn’t guess anything
was out of the ordinary. “And don’t you dare tell anyone. Understand?”
Well, it was worth a try, at least.
* * * *
“Morning, Abram. Got a minute? I— Whoa.”
Abram sighed and waved at his fellow officer with the point of a minuscule
screwdriver. “Good morning to you too, Ivan. What brings you?”
Ivan apparently chose to ignore Abram’s question, and—for the moment—the stack of
files he carried in one arm. “What in the Sam Hell are you doing?”
“It isn’t obvious?” Abram dropped the screwdriver to roll wherever it pleased in the
mess on his desk. While Abram had heard of clean-desk policies, he didn’t reckon he’d ever
manage to make one happen unless he shoveled the lot off with one hand while striking a
match with the other. And today he did have more clutter than usual. “Fixing my DVD
player. What else would I do at work?”
Ivan rubbed at his mouth. Trying to stop the grin from becoming a chortle, Abram
suspected. “I can see that it’s a DVD player. It’s why you have it at work that’s beating me
right now. Aren’t you supposed to be working on catching the bad guys?”
“I am. The damn thing’s got a gremlin infestation.” Abram sat back and crossed his
arms loosely. He worked hard to keep his flexibility as he started the downhill slide from his
mid-forties, thank you very much. “Come in and shut the door if you’re going to be taking
up space. You could even be helpful if you wanted to.”
“Not sure how much I know about gremlins,” Ivan said, but he gave a sort of why not
shrug and did as Abram had suggested. Up to a point—which was picking up a section of
the DVD player’s casing and peering at it. “What’s it doing? Or not doing.”
“What it’s doing is driving me insane, and I’m not going to be much help playing cops
and robbers if I can’t get a decent night’s sleep. It keeps turning itself on at the drop of a hat
and triggering something in the TV when it does. It woke me up yesterday playing True Grit
at top volume. I like the Duke, but my God, not at rock-concert levels at the ass-crack of
midnight.”
Ivan gave up the fight not to snicker. “Fair enough. I’ll give you a pass on bringing
home to work, just this once.”
“Kind of you.” Abram rolled his eyes. Indulgently. He liked Ivan as well or better than
any partner he’d worked with since leaving the Merchant Marines for a badge and a beat.
Well, enough to take the teasing with good grace. Reminded him somewhat of Callum when
they’d both been that age, though Abram wouldn’t say it was conceit that made him think
he’d taken being widowed better than Ivan generally handled being as good as divorced, and
Abram hadn’t handled losing Callum well.
Not that he’d say as much to the man. Out loud.
He cleared his throat and picked up the screwdriver again. “What’s on your mind? Any
new robbers for the cops to play with?”
Ivan toyed with the scrap of casing he’d picked up then tossed it aside. “Thought I’d
check and see if you were still planning to go to the game tonight.”
Abram fixed Ivan with a stern look down the bridge of his nose. “They’ve been working
on that coliseum for the last twenty years. The teams have been signed since last January.
This will be the game of the year. No question. Not to mention there’s a fancier room than
I’ve personally ever stayed in reserved under our names, ready and waiting to be sullied,
and I intend to celebrate my way through every last tiny bottle in the mini-bar I’ve been
promised, no matter who wins the game. Yes, I’m still planning to go, along with Nick, even
if Barrett can’t make it, and in case you were working around to wheedling your way out of
it, the answer is no. You’ll be there if I have to toss you over my shoulder, and you know I
can do it.”
“Good God, okay. I surrender” Ivan said, laughing.
Excellent. Half the time, Abram designed those little rants purely to coax a smile out of
the man. He twirled the screwdriver at Ivan. “And is there anything else on your mind
today?”
“Yeah, I’m gonna say ‘no’ for right now.” Ivan dropped the stack of folders on Abram’s
desk, obscuring a small pile of tiny nuts and screws he’d worried loose of the DVD player’s
innards. The topmost file slipped, knocking a picture frame off its stand and onto its back.
“Except for these. Need you to read them over and slap your Hancock on there, wherever it’s
needed.”
“Such polish and class,” Abram muttered, giving in to the inevitable. “All right, fine. If I
must. Careful of the picture, though, would you?”
Ivan was already grimacing, reaching to straighten the photo. “Unfortunately, I’m
afraid you must,” he said, managing to make it sound like more than an apology. “I’ll catch
up with you before the game. Don’t worry. I’ll be there.”
And he would, too—if only out of guilt over knocking Callum’s picture over. Abram
sighed and sat back as Ivan beat a hasty retreat. He wasn’t angry. Abram didn’t generally
‘do’ angry. He preferred Shakespeare to Spike TV and he’d take a good cabernet over beer
any day. He’d met quite a few men who’d thought rarified tastes were somehow
emasculating, but personally Abram begged to differ. Besides, he stood nearly six feet four in
his stocking feet and had the muscles to match. Add a shaved head, a stark goatee and a
well-practiced, dour glower on the job, and he figured he could act any way he pleased off
the job. No one tangled with him. But as strong as he liked to pretend to be, Callum had been
the real deal—five inches shorter and oceans tougher. As foul-mouthed as a sailor, tight as
sinew, hot-tempered and as loyal-hearted as a man could ever hope for in a soulmate.
God, Abram missed him.
And Abram would never know that sort of love again. That was the hardest part of
being a widower. No one got more than one soulmate in a lifetime. He chafed gently at the
patch of rough skin where his soulmark had once been but had faded away to a colorless scar
after Callum’s death. Such was the fate allotted to the marks of all widows and widowers
following the loss of their soulmates.
Abram pointed after Ivan with the tip of the screwdriver, asking, “Am I a bad man for
using guilt as a motivator?”
Forever caught in a moment of time in the picture, Callum lifted his chin proudly and
gave Abram a cool stare.
“Nah, you’re right,” Abram said. “All’s fair in love and war.”
Damn right, the picture seemed to say. Now stop fucking around and get to work.
As if for emphasis, the old soulmark on his shoulder pinged, an itchy needle that
burrowed beneath his skin. It’d happened before. Like phantom limbs they were, sometimes.
Abram gave it a good scratch, saluted the photo, and did as he’d been told. He knew better
than to say no to Callum when he was in a mood to give orders.
About the Author
Willa Okati can most often be found muttering to herself over a keyboard, plugged
into her iPod and breaking between paragraphs to play air drums. In her spare time
(the odd ten minutes or so per day she’s not writing) she’s teaching herself to play the
penny whistle.
Willa has forty-plus separate tattoos and yearns for a full body suit of ink. She walks
around in a haze of story ideas, dreaming of tales yet to be told. She drinks an
alarming amount of coffee for someone generally perceived to be mellow.
Willa loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and
author biography at
Also by Willa Okati
Totally Bound Publishing
Document Outline
- Willa Okati can most often be found muttering to herself over a keyboard, plugged into her iPod and breaking between paragraphs to play air drums. In her spare time (the odd ten minutes or so per day she’s not writing) she’s teaching herself to play t...
- Willa has forty-plus separate tattoos and yearns for a full body suit of ink. She walks around in a haze of story ideas, dreaming of tales yet to be told. She drinks an alarming amount of coffee for someone generally perceived to be mellow.
- Email: willaokati@gmail.com
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