Winter Kill - lanyon Josh (электронные книги без регистрации TXT) 📗

Adam said, “Serial killers are not the exclusive property of big cities.”

“If Tiffany is not involved, where is she? Do you think she’s dead?” He hated to think so. She was a good little citizen. Kind of a smartass, but kind-hearted and helpful. If she’d been killed, he hoped it had been quick, that—like her mother—she’d never known what hit her.

Adam said wearily, “If she’s dead, I don’t know why we don’t have a body. There was no attempt to hide Joseph or Azure. Why conceal Tiffany?”

“I don’t know either,” Rob said. “I think we should forget about it for now. Let’s just have a quiet evening. A nice meal, a couple of drinks, a good sleep.”

Adam smiled with what looked like genuine relief. “That sounds like a great idea to me.”

For the next half hour they chatted about basically nothing. Rob asked Adam if he liked to ski. Adam did not. He asked Rob if he liked to sail. Rob did not. “But we get a lot of people here with sailboats during the summer,” he suggested.

“I used to have a boat,” Adam said. “I wouldn’t have time to go sailing now days anyway.”

“Everybody needs time off,” Rob said.

Adam frowned like this was an alien concept.

They moved on to movies and books. It turned out that neither of them watched much TV or had a lot of time to read fiction. “I think the last film I saw was a James Bond movie,” Adam admitted.

“I like Disney musicals,” Rob said. “Especially the ones with princesses. Little Mermaid? Pocahontas? That one’s great.”

Adam gave him a funny look and he grinned. “Just kidding.”

“You are quite the kidder.”

“I can be serious too,” Rob said.

Adam met his eyes and then looked away.

So it was that kind of conversation. The kind of conversation you made on a first date, except this was not a date.

Rob served the chicken over pasta. They ate in front of the fireplace, sitting at opposite ends of the long, leather sofa. Rob talked Adam into having another drink. He thought it was a good sign that he didn’t have to try too hard. Adam was fairly relaxed by then, or as relaxed as he probably ever got.

“That was great.” Adam set his plate aside and gave a deep, appreciative sigh. “Thank you very much.”

Rob shook his head. “I’m a passable cook. You just don’t get many home-cooked meals.”

“True.” Adam’s gaze turned speculative. “Is it difficult being a gay man in a small town?”

“In some ways, sure. I don’t bring a lot of guys home to dinner. Let me put it that way.”

“With a hundred thousand visitors a year, you must not lack for company.”

“No, I’ve never lacked for company,” Rob said. “That doesn’t mean I’m not choosey about who I spend time with.”

“No. I’m not implying anything.”

“Imply away.” Rob gave him a hard, bright smile. “I never felt any need or desire to settle down.”

“Sure. Settling down is not for everyone.”

“Not because I wouldn’t like to. I just never met the right guy.”

“Sometimes that’s true too.”

“What about you? You said you got involved with a coworker and it ended badly?”

“I feel like I’ve been doing all the talking.” Adam smiled. It was a you’re-in-my-space smile. “I’m interested in you. What made you join the sheriff’s office?”

Rob pushed his plate away and moved closer to Adam, closing some of that leather-cushioned distance. Adam tilted his head, acknowledging Rob’s approach. His mouth quirked.

Rob said, “I don’t know. I needed a job. Do you think people get asked why they wanted to become an accountant or a pilot?”

“Nobody wants to kill you for being an accountant. Except maybe at tax time. If you go into law enforcement there are people who want you dead just because you’re LE. So it’s natural to wonder why someone might choose that path.”

“Why did you join the FBI?”

“My father was in the FBI.” Adam hesitated. “I admired my dad a lot when I was growing up. I guess I wanted to be just like him.”

Rob said cautiously, “Is your dad still around?” He liked the way Adam’s face looked in the firelight. His hair seemed gilded, his eyes shone, the silver bracelet glinted. Rob found that bracelet encouraging. It was simple and discreet but it seemed to hint at a whole other Adam. An Adam who might not object if Rob leaned forward and kissed him.

“He is. I see even less of him now than when he was with the Bureau.” Adam’s mouth quirked derisively. “I like my job and I’m good at it. I don’t have any regrets. I can’t think of anything I’d rather do.”

Rob stretched his arm along the back of the leather couch and Adam smiled at him. “Would you like another drink?” Rob asked.

Adam moved his head in negation. “If I have another drink, you’ll have to carry me to bed.”

“I’ll carry you to bed.”

Adam laughed.

Rob’s hand closed on Adam’s shoulder, and he drew him closer. “Come here,” Rob whispered.

He saw something flash through Adam’s eyes. Doubt? Hesitation. Adam tilted his face and their lips brushed. Tentative. Sweet. A much more cautious kiss than Rob was used to. Shy? Something melted in his chest and he kissed Adam again, very gently, as though Adam were a nervous young girl he needed to woo and win.

Adam tasted like alcohol, and he smelled like Rob’s shampoo and Rob’s soap, which should not have been erotic, but somehow was. His mouth curved beneath Rob’s, his lips unexpectedly soft. He liked this approach, he liked being kissed. Rob kissed him again, still gentle, still courting. They breathed together in easy harmony. Rob could feel Adam’s heart pounding against his own and Adam’s eyelashes flickering against his eyes.

Rob liked kissing—he had wanted to kiss Adam the first night, and had not missed the fact that Adam did not want to be kissed—this was even better than he had imagined. He used every bit of skill and delicacy he had, and he felt the moment Adam stopped thinking and simply surrendered.

Adam’s hand landed lightly on the base of Rob’s skull, and he applied a little pressure of his own. More…

Rob gave him more kisses, hotter, harder, wet kisses. Adam kissed him back openly hungry and feverish. He slid down onto his back, pulling Rob with him. And there they were, having a good old-fashioned necking session right there on Rob’s oversized couch in his under-furnished living room.

All Rob’s good intentions flew out the window.

“Jesus, I want you so much.”

Adam tore his mouth away and gasped, “What about the guest room?”

“We can do it in the guest room if you want.”

Adam’s laugh was breathless, his free hand fumbled with Rob’s zipper. “No, if we’re going to do it, let’s do it.”

That sounded like there was a chance he was going to change his mind, and Rob wasted no time tearing his clothes off—just about literally—and then remembered protection. Was startled that he’d nearly forgotten. When was the last time that had happened?

“Time out.”

Adam raised his head. “What the—?”

Rob pounded out of the room, up the stairs, down the hall, and into his bedroom. He rifled through the bedroom drawer and raced back downstairs. As he sprinted through the open floor plan he saw Adam sitting up on the sofa looking beautifully naked, with the expression of someone who has missed his bus.

Rob pounded his chest and gave a Tarzan yell as he sprang for the sofa.

Adam’s jaw dropped. He raised an instinctive, defensive leg, and that was almost the end of the evening’s proceedings.

“AAAHHHH AH AH AH aa owww!” Rob landed half on top of Adam who had watched his advance with astonished disbelief.

Adam offered a strangled, “Uhhhh…”

“OW,” Rob repeated. He lifted off, studying the footprint in his chest. “That hurt.”

“You’re crazy.” Adam still looked amazed, but he was starting to laugh. “You’re the craziest guy I ever met. That I didn’t have to arrest.”