Desires' Guardian E-Book

Tempeste O'Riley

• Herausgeber: Dreamspinner Press
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 323

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2014

Beschreibung

Desires Entwined: Book Two Most people see Chase Manning as the party-boy twink he seems on the surface. Only James, Chase's BFF, knows the depth of his loyalty and the extent of the wounds Chase carries inside. When Chase meets Rhys Sayer, things don't go well, but he can't shake his attraction to the huge, sexy man. Rhys is a man of contradictions and fear—a strange combination for a PI and bodyguard. He's in a bad place emotionally when he sets eyes on Chase for the first time. When Chase puts the moves on him, Rhys insults him, thwarting any possibility of a relationship. Rhys doesn't see himself as a complicated man, but he dreads the very kind of connection he desires. Just as they're trying to overcome their uncertainties, Chase is put in harm's way. Luckily Rhys and their friends have all the right talents to help Rhys save the man of his dreams.

Leseprobe

Published by

Dreamspinner Press

5032 Capital Circle SWSuite 2, PMB# 279Tallahassee, FL 32305-7886

USA

http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of author imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Desires’ Guardian

© 2014 Tempeste O’Riley.

Cover Art

© 2014 Reese Dante.

http://www.reesedante.com

Cover content is for illustrative purposes only and any person depicted on the cover is a model.

All rights reserved. This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of international copyright law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines, and/or imprisonment. Any eBook format cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact Dreamspinner Press, 5032 Capital Circle SW, Suite 2, PMB# 279, Tallahassee, FL 32305-7886, USA, or http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/.

ISBN: 978-1-62798-999-2

Digital ISBN: 978-1-62798-927-5

Printed in the United States of America

First Edition

June 2014

This is for those who have come back from the edge, for those who still search for their heart, and for all who struggle with who they are.

Never give up!

My eternal thanks to Nikki, Wolf, and Rowan Jade, for without each of you, Chase and Rhys would never have been.

PLEASE, GOD,make it stop.

The loud ringing next to his head had Chase debating between smashing the phone and burying his head until the demonic thing went quiet on its own. When the ringing stopped but immediately started up again, he gave up on Option B.

Why?

Even mentally whining made his head hurt worse. Chase lay sprawled across his bed on top of the covers. The only part of him not exposed was his head; he’d burrowed under a pillow when the sunshine pushed its way into his bedroom. Sitting up without moving the pillow from over his head, Chase slowly scooped up his cell. “’Lo,” he croaked.

“Chase?”

“Um, yeah. Who is—wait, James?” Chase’s thoughts refused to clear as he fought his way past the alcohol struggling to drag him back into unconsciousness. The taste of stale beer and liquor was almost enough to make him puke. He vaguely wondered where his trash can was and whether he could get there if needed.

“You forgot, didn’t you?” The loud chuckle that followed the question did not help with his headache. However, with everything that had happened recently—the stalking and threats against his best friend—he would have gladly suffered in silence to make James happy.

A soft moan escaped his dry lips. He tried to wet them with his tongue, but it felt dry and thick. “Sorry, Jamie. What did I forget?”

“You went out to the club again, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” he whimpered. “Dale and Simon wanted to go out for some fun. But I know you’re not calling to see if I went home with anyone. So again I ask, why am I awake?”

“My art show tonight.”

He was certain he could hear a smirk in James’s voice. “It’s”—Chase paused to check his clock—“not even noon yet, Jamie.” He loved his best friend dearly, but why did he have to be so damned perky first thing in the morning?

“Lunch. Remember?”

Lunch? Eating? He so didn’t want to think about food right then.

“Right. Let me get up and get dressed. I’ll swing by your place soon.”

“Go ahead and meet me at the restaurant, please. We have reservations at Zarletti’s downtown. I’m out and about right now. Okay?”

“Uh, sure, hun.” After a few more pleasantries, he hung up and slowly dragged his groggy self out of bed, stopping to down a couple of Tylenol and a full bottle of water before taking his shower.

Chase took his time getting dressed, and not simply because his head still hurt, the dull ache grating but livable. He never went out without dressing for the occasion, though it was nothing compared to how he would look later that night when he accompanied his best friend to his first gallery show. It would be James’s debut as the featured artist.

God,meansI’ll have to deal with Rhys too. He knew Rhys wouldn’t miss the show. He rolled his eyes for thinking about the damn man. Rhys was sex on legs, but his attitude was crap! Still, dressing to kill might not be a bad idea….

Chase finished buttoning the deep green silk shirt over his slight frame as he walked to the fridge in his small but well-appointed kitchen. Grabbing a bottle of Mountain Dew, he took a gulp before he put the cap back on, grabbed his backpack, and headed out the front door. He was usually a cappuccino kind of guy, but sometimes one needed an extra kick of sugar and caffeine, fast.

Yawning, Chase got into his car and started over to James’s before he remembered they were meeting at the restaurant instead. At some point, he knew he would have to change his thinking and acknowledge that the little cottage was James and Seth’s now, especially since they were not only living together but would be married in just over a month.

Chase turned the corner to pull up in front of Zarletti’s. A moment later, a motorcycle passed him. He paused a moment to take in the eye candy: the black and chrome Harley Softail and the tall, wide-shouldered man atop it. When he parked, he realized to whom the bike belonged and groaned, cursing his luck and his reaction.

There Rhys stood, peering at him from beside the motorcycle. Too bad the bike and those looks belong to such an ass hat. Since the man was staring at him so blatantly, Chase decided to return the favor. He took a moment to let his gaze wander from the man’s deep auburn hair and perpetual five o’clock shadow to his delicious athletic build, wide shoulders, and the defined pecs his black T-shirt served to accentuate, not hide, even with the leather coat half covering him. Rhys was huge at close to six and a half feet. He continued his perusal down Rhys to his thick, muscled legs and his chunky black leather boots. Chase allowed himself a soft sigh. He took just as long on the return trip, making a true production of it. When his gaze finally landed on Rhys’s deep green eyes again, he smirked, turned, and made sure to put a little extra swish into his hips as he sauntered up the sidewalk to the front doors.

He reached to open one but paused when he heard the crunching of boots on the path behind him. He groaned to himself quietly and then stepped inside, hoping Rhys was there to meet someone else, not James. Please let it not be us! Chase had managed to avoid Rhys for the last few months, ever since James’s first gallery show. It was a lot harder to stay away from him than he had expected. He hated how Rhys had befriended James, making avoiding him all the more complicated.

“Good afternoon, welcome to Zarletti’s. Table for two?” the bright-eyed hostess asked as Chase approached her stand.

“No. I’m meeting someone. James Bryant? He should be here already.”

“Very good, sir. And you?” the hostess asked, gazing past Chase to Rhys.

“The same, thank you.” Rhys’s deep, rumbling voice sent a jolt through his system, as always.

Chase tensed when he heard Rhys’s reply. His smile fell, but he refused to look at Rhys again.

She promptly led them to a small corner table where James sat, his forearm crutches leaning against the wall behind him.

“Glad you could make it, Rhys,” James called over Chase’s shoulder. “Nice timing, Chase. You look better than you sounded on the phone.”

“I’m okay, Jamie.” Chase pushed away James’s concern with a wave of his hand before he leaned in and kissed James’s cheek. “How did you get reservations so fast?”

“I’ve had the reservations, Chase. Why do you think I called to make sure you were awake?”

Chase noticed the way James’s eyes lit up when he saw him and how huge his smile was, which made him happy he had gotten up. However, what little enthusiasm he’d had for lunch died as soon as he realized Rhys was going to join them. He couldn’t help it. Every time he looked at the man, he reacted, but after the way Rhys had treated him the night they met, and a few times since, he wanted nothing to do with the ego or the jerk. Straight people not understanding him was one thing, but a gay man making snarky comments about him being less, or that being twink-like made him undesirable? Beyond not cool! Sadly, Chase thought as he peeked at Rhys again, I’d still take him home if he’d let me. See who is pinned against the floor screaming then!

“I guess I didn’t remember you telling me where we were eating,” Chase explained as he sat beside James. “Don’t mind me, hun. Now, why has our BFF date been hijacked and why is he here?”

“Come on, Chase, I’m hungry. No pouting.”

He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths to clear his irritation and worry. “My apologies. How about… what’s on the agenda, my dear?” He folded his hands to make a small stand and rested his chin there, batting his eyelashes at James for full effect.

“Better,” James said with a low chuckle. “I suppose we can tend to business first, though that won’t get you out of here any faster.” The stare accompanying James’s words had him pinned to his seat. He sat up straight, suddenly wondering exactly why James had invited Rhys along.

What business could there be between the three of us?

“Business first is fine, James,” Rhys rumbled. “Though I’m still not sure how you think Mr. Manning can help.”

“What are you two needing help with?” Chase’s eyes flitted between his best friend and the man he simultaneously wanted to throttle and devour. He cursed his dick as it stood up and took notice of Rhys’s closeness.

“Not us, Chase. Rhys needs the services of a tech god. One that is good, discreet, and,” James paused and shared a look with Rhys, “creative? But he doesn’t believe you would agree to work for him, even temporarily.”

“Tech god? Really?” Chase giggled before the rest of what James said sank in. “Wait, you want me to help Rhys with some computer problem? Why not just call the Geek Squad and have them fix it?”

“Chase.”

“Why me?”

“I told you he wouldn’t agree, James. I need a hacker or cracker or what-the-hell-ever they want to be called, not some wannabe desk jockey who thinks he’s too good for anyone,” Rhys grumbled. The look of disgust irritated Chase more than the words, though they didn’t go unnoticed either.

“If anyone thinks he’s too good, it’s you, you pom—”

“Chase!”

“Fine,” he snapped. He waved one long, slender hand toward Rhys as he continued. “What possible help could I be to him?” He couldn’t bring himself to willingly address Rhys directly—snapping at Rhys didn’t count. “Desk jockey?” “Wannabe?” The insufferable man might be nearly a foot taller than him, but he itched to teach him some manners.

“Chill for a minute, please. Rhys, as you know, is a PI and a bodyguard.” When Chase nodded, James continued. “He’s doing some work, though I don’t know the details, and needs someone with serious computer skills but can’t use his usual person. I was hoping you would help him.”

James, the traitor, motioned Rhys to speak.

“Mr. Manning, James said you left Skye Designs and do consulting and freelance work now. He and Seth claim you’re the best, so I am here to hire you. If you agree, you will be paid for any and all work. I’m not asking a favor, I’m offering you a business proposition.”

Chase listened as Rhys spoke and watched as emotions played across his face. Irritation, curiosity, worry…. Chase pursed his lips, glancing between James and Rhys. Work with Rhys? Is James nuts? He dropped his gaze to his wine glass and shook his head as he thought about working with Rhys Sayer—egomaniac, ass hat, sex god. If it was for Mark Gentry, Rhys’s business partner, he would say yes right way, but could he deal with Rhys that much?

Rhys crossed his powerful arms. “I should go, Jay. I don’t want to mess with your buddy-date thing or stress you before your show tonight. I retract my request, Mr. Manning.” He raised one huge hand, motioning their server over. “Can you box mine, please?”

James sighed and frowned, a look Chase hated to see.

“Wait,” Chase countered. “Do you really need IT help with your company? And why can’t your normal guy work it? Surely you have one on staff.”

James’s lips twitched, and Chase knew he’d been had, but then, he never said no to James anyway, so why start now?

“Pouting won’t help, Chase. Be good.”

Chase rolled his eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “Brat.”

“My normal guy would be pissed at being called a guy,” Rhys explained and smirked. “Kailee just got married and moved, with her new husband, across the country. She could still do part of what I need, but I would rather have someone local, especially for this sort of work. She agrees with James about your tech skills, so I’m willing to try you.” Rhys flushed red, his eyes going round and wide. “I mean…. Oh, never mind. Will you help or not?” he grumbled.

DANNIBURNS, James’s seven-year-old stepdaughter, and Rhys sat on a blanket in a glade dotted with small flowers near a gently winding brook, having tea, Rhys in his biker leather and Danni in one of her lavender princess dresses. Mrs. Rainbow—her beloved pastel, tie-dyed bunny in a tiny white-and-green Irish dancing dress with miniature black Mary Janes—rested between the two.

“So what do you think?” James asked, startling Chase out of his musing as he stood before what was secretly one of his favorite paintings of the collection. The gallery show had opened about an hour earlier, but the two men hadn’t had much time together to discuss what images would be shown. Honestly, the fact there was such a family feel to part of the images, as opposed to James’s usual erotic content, surprised Chase.

“I think you caught the mischief and sweetness of Danni beautifully.” In truth, he was in awe of how James managed to capture both of their inner selves so perfectly. In his opinion, it was one of James’s best paintings. The gentle giant and his precious little sprite. “But why did you pair her with Rhys of all people? He’s so….” Chase trailed off, caught again by the striking masculinity before him.

“Powerful? Handsome? Gentle?” James raised an eyebrow at Chase and smiled. “I honestly wish you would tell me why all the animosity between you two,” he added, voice soft.

“It doesn’t matter, Jamie.” He wrapped one arm around James’s shoulders. “Come on, show me around some. I hear the artist is supposed to be pretty good, after all,” Chase teased.

“Oh, you think he might be better than me?”

Chase would do anything to keep the huge grin gracing his best friend’s face right then. “Maybe,” he singsonged. Considering him for a moment, Chase took James’s hand. “Seriously, you’ve outdone yourself. I’m so proud of you.”

James blinked and looked up, smiling, his cheeks pink. “Thank you, Chase.”

“James, it’s time.” Seth’s voice broke their moment, startling both men. “Gather up your Chase and hurry, please.”

Chase looked over to Seth, confused about what he was referring to. The show isn’t over, so where is he taking Jamie, and what does that have to do with me?

“Oh! Oh, good. Come on, dear.” James pushed him toward Seth and then maneuvered on his forearm crutches to follow behind.

Chase followed obediently, confused but moving with the flow of bodies around him. “What’s going on, guys?” he asked once they were at the front of the gallery. He looked around and noticed there was a large covered frame that hadn’t been there earlier.

Rhys’s brother, Dal, sidled up beside Chase, bending to whisper into his ear, “He’s got one last painting to reveal, but it’s a special one. I heard not even Britt”—the owner of the gallery—“has seen this one.”

“Really?” He peered up at Dal, again noticing how much he looked like Rhys, only a couple of inches shorter and a few pounds lighter.

“Shh… he’s getting ready to speak.”

Chase realized James now stood in front of the painting, smiling again.

“First, let me thank everyone for your warm reception and the wonderful turnout. As some of you know, I don’t really do speeches, but this last painting is special. I debated showing Inner Light, but in the end decided others needed to see the subject as I do.” James moved to the side, releasing his grip on one forearm crutch. He touched the sheet but didn’t move it yet. “You see, sometimes when people reveal who they truly are inside, we find a vile, rotting corpse, but other times, what we find….” He trailed off and touched a recessed panel.

The sheet, which Chase realized was actually a curtain, slid aside to reveal a painting of… him! Well, it was him, but not him at the same time. The artistry was magnificent, but over half his face a lion was superimposed. The lion part even had his ear cuff clipped to the furry ear. Chase gaped, barely noting the gasps and clapping that burst all around him.

Chase moved to the side, trying not to attract attention as questions and praise swarmed James. He couldn’t stop staring at the painting, trying to see how it could possibly be a representation of himself, but couldn’t. He wasn’t powerful or strong like a lion. And while he knew he was decent looking, the man in the painting had an ethereal beauty that dumbfounded him. It was both humbling and uncomfortable to look upon and hear Jamie’s voice in his head saying that was how he saw him.

Chase was startled out of his thoughts when two of his friends, Simon Tyler and Dale Miller, nudged him. “Chase! Did you know about the painting? It’s amazing,” Simon gushed.

Chase shook his head. “I didn’t. He can’t really see me that way, can he?”

“With as much as you’ve done over the years to help and protect him, yeah, I think that’s exactly how he sees you,” Dale replied. “Of course, he’s obviously blind. But then, if he showed you as you really are, no one would buy his artwork.” Dale and Simon cackled, and Chase glowered at the both of them.

“Maybe he’s trying to make up for conning you into working with Rhys,” Simon suggested.

“Harrumph! I still can’t believe I said yes, but you really think all this was planned? Seriously?”

“Eh, ignore Simon.”

“We’re going out tomorrow night to forget about the sexy ox, so don’t sweat it,” Simon said and winked. “Now, go congratulate James and smile. You look totally wrong with the scowl on your pretty face,” he instructed, turning Chase and pushing him toward the now advancing James.

DALEMILLER shook Chase awake when he pulled up to the curb in front of Chase’s apartment building. Chase realized, belatedly, that he probably should have stayed in the night before. The sleep deprivation was not going to make spending the next nine hours or so at work, dealing with Rhys, any easier. He’d regretted agreeing to the date the previous night about ten minutes after John, his blind date, arrived. He’d told Simon setting him up was a bad idea, but those big, brown puppy eyes always got him into trouble—every damn time! Of course, he regretted agreeing to work for Rhys Sayer too, but his ability to tell James “no” was worse.

“Come on, buddy. You have work to get to. So do I.” Dale didn’t look much more awake than Chase felt, but he dutifully nodded and managed to remember to unbuckle before he got out of Dale’s little green Toyota Yaris.

“Thanks,” Chase mumbled as he grabbed his jacket and shuffled off toward his apartment on the second floor.

He stopped in his kitchen long enough to start the coffeemaker before heading to his room to strip. Chase glanced at his alarm clock and winced at the time. It was a little after six, Monday morning. Once his clothes were off and in the hamper, he padded into the bathroom to take a hot shower. He firmly believed sweat and smoke on a body were not attractive the next day. He cleaned up and got dressed, only fumbling with his slacks twice. He took one last look in the mirror and grimaced at the somewhat haggard look in his eyes. Bad date followed by friend crying over a broken heart…. Never again, please!

Chase made sure to put his leather cuff back on his left wrist, covering the scar there, and willfully ignoring the memories that always threatened to resurface when he was too tired. It and the silver spoon on a choker, he never left home without. He idly toyed with the double buckle as he thought about what John had said the night before, but wearing a leather cuff did not make him a sub or a bottom, no matter what anyone else thought.

Chase was thankful for the light traffic on his way to The Coiled Dragon Agency, the PI and bodyguard company Rhys and Mark owned. His mind wandered as he drove, reflecting on the changes in his life since he’d left Skye Designs. He’d only stayed so long in the first place to be there for James, but now that James only worked for them on a consulting basis and had dedicated himself to his art career, there was nothing to keep Chase there anymore. Starting his own consulting firm had terrified him at first, but he loved the freedom. Besides, it allowed him to still act as James’s assistant when needed.

He made it to the site right on time. He hoped his annoyance and exhaustion wouldn’t be too visible.

Shoving his keys into his pocket, Chase stepped out of his light blue Cruze, tilted his head back, and welcomed the crisp cool air and bright morning sun as it beat down on him. He knew he needed to wake up more and stop scowling before he met with Rhys, but his nerves had been on edge ever since he’d said yes two days ago.

He took a deep breath, then turned and headed toward the office. Chase’s phone rang as he reached for the door. “Manning,” he answered, no longer hiding the lilt he normally spoke with. He was his own boss now, and he refused to tone down or hide who he was ever again.

“Chase Manning?”

“Yes, this is Chase.”

“Good. I have the right number.” He recognized the voice but couldn’t put his finger on who it was, not with the loud, rumbling background noise.

“Yes, you have my number. Now, do I get to know who you are, or should I hang up?” he teased.

It kind of sounded like Dal, but the chuckle that came through the phone went straight to his gut. “I had you pegged for the studious type that always checks the screen before answering.” He knew that voice now: Rhys.

“What can I do for you, Sayer?”

“You can stop right where you are and not go in that door.”

Chase’s head popped up. He looked around the driveway and the street quickly, not amused when he noticed nothing around him but normal morning traffic. The office was in a converted house; the first floor was the agency. He knew the two floors above were living quarters, though he didn’t know who lived up there.

“Why?” he ground out. “I’m here as a favor to you because James wants us to work together. For now.” He needed more caffeine and sleep if the man was getting to him this fast.

“Mark was called away on another job. I’m on my way back now, so if you go in, you’ll be breaking in, as no one’s in the office.”

Chase ground his teeth as he counted to ten in his head.

“You could have— Whatever, just hurry up or I’m going back home. Even empty, my bed is more enjoyable than you.” Chase snapped his cell shut and slipped it back into his pocket, but immediately drew it back out again and sent a short text to James.

»I SO hate you right now! XOXO«

Right after he hit send, he heard the unmistakable sound of Rhys’s Softail.

His cell chimed.

»LOL« was all James replied.

Chase had debated riding his metallic blue Sabre to work, but between his exhaustion and the fact Rhys would probably think he was “trying too hard” or something equally asinine, he’d driven his car.

Rhys rode up and parked his bike next to his Cruze. Watching the mountain of a man move to stand and dismount the bike had his mind wandering everywhere it shouldn’t and his gaze glued to the hard, tight jeans-clad ass before him. Chase spun around fast to face the door when Rhys started to turn, not about to let The Ego know how much he was lusted after.

RHYSTOOK his time parking and dismounting his motorcycle. He hoped to maintain his aloof demeanor, though God knew it was hard to do with Chase standing there waiting on him. Chase was dressed in a light blue button-down shirt with fine dusky blue vertical stripes that conformed to his lean and lithe chest and abs. On his slender hips hung a pair of low-rise black jeans that were faded on the thighs, ones he was certain Chase knew showed off his form well. His black leather belt had a twin, double buckle that matched the leather wrist cuff he always wore.

Rhys’s gaze flicked up to Chase’s face, and he looked into his eyes, mesmerized by the swirling colors framed by thick chestnut lashes. Chase’s eyes were one part blue and three parts green, with the most beautiful flecks of gold in them that seemed to follow the path of where one color merged into the other. He had never seen eyes with two distinct colors like Chase’s, much less with the intricate, almost lace-like patterns throughout the iris. Then he fixed on the silver hoop through the full, pouty bottom lip on the most beautiful, delicate, yet masculine face he had ever seen.

He broke from gazing at Chase with a slow blink, trying desperately to regain his self-control and professionalism. Keeping a firm grip on his helmet, Rhys strolled to the office door, unlocking and holding it open for Chase to enter ahead of him. He quickly disarmed the alarm and turned on the lights.

“Nichelle, our receptionist-slash-office manager, will be here in a few minutes. Until then, let me show you around and introduce you to your new office area. It’s set up how Kailee wanted, but you’re free to modify it however you desire. Computers aren’t my thing really, but Kailee swore this was the best for what we needed.”

“I checked out this Kailee of yours yesterday, and while I brought some of my own equipment, she’s got a killer rep. So if she designed it, I’m sure it will suffice.”

Chase restrained his words and voice a little more than he expected. Rhys couldn’t help but be enchanted at the wide eyes roaming over the equipment or at Chase bouncing in place as he started touching different items.

“Come on. Let me show you where things are before you go all geek on me,” Rhys said with a rumbling laugh.

Chase froze, hand outstretched. He turned his head toward Rhys, licked his lips, and then asked, “Go geek? Really?”

Rhys swallowed hard at the flare of heat in Chase’s eyes but quickly shook it off. “Is it nerd, not geek?”

Chase growled, his lips compressed as he squinted up at Rhys. “Why don’t you go lift something, or whatever it is you lumbering brutes do, and I’ll go back to my car,” Chase snapped.

“I wasn’t trying to insult you, Cha—” Rhys stopped midword at the look on Chase’s face. “I mean, Mr. Manning. You just seemed so… I don’t know, giddy. I didn’t want to get in the way once you started working on the system. But, um, Nichelle has all the codes and things you’ll need, so….”

Chase looked past Rhys, stomped back out to the main area, and slowly turned in place. After a few moments, he stopped, faced Rhys again, and started talking. “Reception,” he said, pointing to the large, curved wood desk near the front. “Waiting area, obvious by the chairs, couches, table, and reading materials,” he continued, again gesturing with his slender hands. “Tech is here, of course,” he added with a mischievous little smirk that made Rhys want to lick it off his face. “And I would hazard a guess that the two doors over there lead to Mark’s and your offices, yours being the one closest to the front door. Kitchen, restrooms, and of course, storage. Did I miss anything?” Chase added with a grin.

Rhys sighed, shaking his head. “No, not really. You’re good on details. Impressive. I’ll just get out of your way, then, so you can get everything set how you want.”

“Might be nice to know what I’m setting up to do, Rhys.”

“You’ll be doing net research some,” Rhys explained. “We’ll also need you to do some digging through computers, phones, et cetera. It just depends on the case at the time.” He rubbed his eyes before continuing. “And yes, that means hacking into things here and via the net occasionally. I didn’t mess with how Kailee left things, but I figured it’s like anything else—you’ll want things where you want them and not where someone else would.”

Rhys turned to go to his office when Chase nodded his agreement, but drew up short when he heard the bell chime, letting him know someone was entering the office.

He moved around to the front and spotted Nichelle coming in, weighed down with goodies. “Lord, woman, what all did you get? It’s just the three of us for now.”

“Oh shush, you. You said the boy loved mocha but didn’t bother to find out what kind, so I called Mr. Bryant and asked him. So I have a peppermint-and-white-chocolate mocha for him, a regular coffee for you, my drink, and a chocolate cheesecake brownie for you each. Now, where’s our new computer boy?”

Rhys laughed at her rambling. He had adored her since the first time they met, back when she was dating his little brother, Dal. However, he was happier with her working for him than her dating Dal. “You two will get along great. Chase is already in the tech cave.”

“Actually, I’m right here.” Rhys turned and found Chase walking up behind him. Chase extended his right hand to take Nichelle’s, bending to kiss the back of it before placing his other hand lightly on top. “Charmed. You must be the infamous Nichelle I’ve heard so much about.”

She giggled, blushing slightly. “And you, sir, are quite the little charmer, aren’t you? James and Dal warned me about you.”

Chase flashed her a bright smile, which drew more giggles. “My dear, I am many things. A few of them are even safe for public consumption. Now, did I hear something about a mocha, ’cuz I know I smell one,” Chase purred, sniffing the air lightly.

Oh God! Rhys grabbed his coffee and brownie and quickly fled to his office, closing the door before letting out the breath he’d been holding. I am never going to survive having him work for me. Why did I listen to Seth and James?

“Why does he have to be so beautiful?” Rhys mumbled as he sat down at his desk, wanting to find his work for the day distracting, though he didn’t hold much hope.

LEANINGBACK in his office chair, eyes closed, Rhys struggled with his mixed desire and fear. He had long ago given up on doing the books. On his best day, numbers barely held his attention, but today Rhys’s chest ached from the expression of hurt and frustration on Chase’s face that kept drifting into his imagination. He opened his eyes and drew in a deep breath, hoping to banish the phantom look. It didn’t help any. The pains of his past and his fear of accidentally harming the young man again drowned out his appreciation of Chase’s sheer beauty and sensuality.

Comparably, Chase was so fragile, so fluid in his movements and emotions. Rhys knew that were he to give in—if Chase would even consent to try a relationship with him—Rhys was certain he would come away more brokenhearted than he already was or be sent away for being too base a man. It had happened before, and he was determined not to go there again. Ever.

CHASESPENT the next couple of hours continuing to set up and rearrange the tech area, impressed with everything already there. As Chase thought he had things the way he wanted them, he was snapped out of his musing by the loud clearing of someone’s throat behind him.

“Um, Chase?”

He peered up from the floor where he was kneeling, having finished binding the cords up and out of the way completely, and noticed Mark Gentry standing in the entryway. “Oh, Mark, you scared me.” He smiled to show he was teasing. “What do you need?”

The rumbling laugh Mark let out tickled Chase, who was glad he could interact with Mark without the drama and stress he had with Rhys. “Right. You, scared? You have to be the most non-scaredy cat person I know.”

“Aw, you say the sweetest things,” Chase cooed, batting his eyelashes and smiling.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Now, I need two things from you, if you can crawl out here for a bit.” Mark stood over Chase, brow raised and a smirk on his lips.

Chase grinned wider and began to crawl forward.

“Like this?” he asked innocently.

“You’re evil and you know it.” Mark chuckled and took a step back, then motioned Chase to stand, which he did with his usual grace and fluidity.

“You are so not fun.” Chase fake pouted. “Better now?”

“Yes, oh naughty one. Now, I need to see what you can dig up on this guy,” Mark continued. He handed Chase a thin folder.

“Sure, but that’s only one request. You said there were two.” Chase sat at his desk and opened the file, checking what information Mark had provided. “What am I looking for exactly?”

“Financial issues mostly. He’s the reason I wasn’t here when you arrived. He’s causing trouble for a client, and I have a suspicion on the why. I’m hopin’ you can help me find the pieces I need to shut him down.”

“That should be easy. I thought you guys needed help with something hard.” Chase pouted, this time for real, as he still didn’t see why Rhys needed him here.

“Ha-ha. I do, just not for this case.”

“Oh, do tell.”

The sudden flush that spread over Mark’s face and down his neck surprised Chase. “I, um, it’s nothing to do with work. It’s a personal request?"

Chase smiled, motioning him to continue, curious what else his friend could need help with.

“I know it has nothing to do with work, but I hear you’re good with cooking and wine and such, and I really need to impress my guests this weekend and kinda hoped you’d help me?” Mark explained, saying it all together as if it were one long word.

“Company? You’re still seeing Aurora, right?” At Mark’s nod, Chase continued. “So, whatcha need?”

“Her folks are coming to town.” The miserable look Mark gave him had him fighting not to laugh. “And it’s my first time doing the whole dinner-with-the-parents thing. Well, where I’m in charge, at least.”

“All right, hun. Step one, breathe. Step two, let me get some work done and we can chat later about what all you need. Oh, and step three, relax. They are gonna totally love you! Now go, shoo, go on. Don’t want my bosses getting upset with me for slacking off,” he added with a wink.

Mark grinned as he turned away. Chase could hear him laughing all the way back to his office.

RHYSWALKED beside Mark as they wandered the aisles at the Pick ’n Save, fighting the urge to laugh. Mark stood in the baking aisle, looking bewildered and clutching a typed list of ingredients. “Why do I need brown sugar, white sugar, and honey? And why does it matter if the salt is kosher or from the sea or not?”

“I don’t know, man. It’s your list,” Rhys answered, failing to keep a straight face.

“But he swore I needed all this and that it would be easy to fix,” Mark complained. “Should have let him do the shopping part like he suggested,” he added under his breath.

“So why didn’t you? And who is this mystery ‘he’?” Rhys had been curious all week about whom Mark had roped into cooking for him. He knew Mark could cook but would be a basket case if he did so while trying to impress Aurora’s parents.