So. Long(32)

Not bad.

He grins. “I’d like to do that again.”

This time, he pulls me closer and presses his lips to mine. Then his tongue slides along the seam of my lips, tentatively, as though he’s asking permission.

Adam doesn’t ask—he just does.

Fuck.

Get out of my head, Adam.

I open to Hunter, allowing his tongue to sweep in. He holds me tighter and deepens the kiss. I do my best to participate, but…it’s just—he’s—not Adam.

Crap.

Shit.

No fair.





I pull a longneck from the fridge.

Spike gives a low whine.

With the toe of my boot, I nudge his bowl. “Water for you, my friend. Beer’s for those of us who pay the mortgage.”

Spike flops onto his back, baring his stomach and turning his head so he can plead with his eyes.

“You’re lucky, boy. Women don’t get under your skin.” Using my ring as a lever, I pop off the top and salute him with the bottle.

I turn toward the living room, and a flurry of fur and feet scrambles to follow.

He jumps into my recliner, as though I’m going to let him have the only seat in the house. After I push him to the floor, I settle in and pull out my wallet and my phone.

I dig a wrinkled picture from between my driver’s license and my bank card.

It’s the first of the month. As much as it guts me, and it does every fucking time, I have a call to make.

I bring up Jen’s number and down half of my beer.

We settled in for the night with sand up our asses and in our boots. But it didn’t matter. Exhaustion makes those things less important than they’d be in the real world. And this wasn’t the real world. This was another world, a different world—dusty and dirty and dangerous.

I took a swig from my canteen and passed it to Shulls.

Carter saluted me with it. “Thanks, man.”

“No problem.”

He leaned toward me, his voice raw from a day in the dry heat. “You know, you’re the best guy I know.”

I grinned. “Shush. Don’t tell anyone.”

His smile faded, and his eyes got this intense look. “Seriously, Hardick…you’re my best friend. I don’t have anyone else I trust as much as you.”

I reach for my fly. “If my cock weren’t coated with desert, I’d let you jack me off, but as it is, I’d probably get sand burns.”

Shulls let out a laugh. “Yeah, and I’d end up with something I can’t wash off, as much as you spread that shit around back home. No thanks, dude.”

I settled down, pulling my helmet over my eyes, hoping to catch at least a couple of winks. But before I could blank out, Shulls tapped my shin.

“You asleep?”

I pushed the helmet up enough to crack one eye at him. He pulled out his flashlight and the wad of papers he kept tucked into his breast pocket.

“You know, Jen and the kids love you. Always have.”

“Jen picked the wrong guy. I’m better looking, and my dick’s bigger. You know it. I know it. She knows it—well, she knows I’m better looking, anyway.”

Shulls kicked the side of my leg with the heel of his boot. “Shut the fuck up. I’m trying to talk to you about something serious here.”

“Life is too fucking serious, man. All I’m doing is trying to lighten the mood.”

Carter held out a creased photo, shining the beam of his flashlight on it. “See them? They depend on me. I depend on you. If something happens, I gotta know you’ll be there for them.”

I sat up straighter as my chest tightened. “Nothing’s gonna happen to—”

He kicked me again. “We don’t know what’s going to happen. Hanson bought it last week and the week before that it was Bateman.”

“Yeah, but they were in the wrong places at the wrong times.” The heaviness in my gut was getting to be too much. “Besides, Bateman was an asshole.”

Carter shined the light into my eyes. “Shut the fuck up, man. You’re gonna bring bad juju on us. Don’t you know you should never speak ill of the dead?”

I hung my head, knowing Shulls wouldn’t be happy until I showed how contrite I was. “Sorry. At least Bateman loved his momma. God bless him.”

Carter shoved his photo into my hand. “Anyway, I need to know you’ll take care of Jen and the kids, you know—if something happens to me.”

My scalp prickled. I pushed the helmet off and scratched the top of my head. “Nothing’s gonna happen to you, Shulls. But if it makes you sleep better, I promise, if something does, I’ll be there for Jen and the kids. Whatever they need, whenever they need it. Day. Night. Rain. Shine. Drunk or sober. I’ll be there.”