His thoughts veered back to when he’d held RT’s hand, the way RT’s fingers had felt against his skin. As he stood in the surf, letting the sun beat down on his head, Z imagined what it would’ve been like to kiss RT again, to feel the warm press of his lips against his own. It brought an onslaught of memories from the night in Coyote Ridge…
His body was on fire, his blood surging through his veins. Whipping out his dick and jacking off wouldn’t have put a dent in his boner. Not with so many fantasies running loose in his head.
It looked more and more as though he wouldn’t be making headway with RT at this point. When they’d arrived back at the house, Z had instantly noticed the shift in RT. He was back to business as usual, once again pretending nothing had happened between them. Nothing out of the ordinary, anyway.
Yet it had.
Z had touched RT, something he’d thought he’d never get the chance to do again. He’d held his hand, felt the warmth of his skin.
Releasing a heavy sigh, he looked up at the sky. There were a few clouds hovering above and more rolling in. He figured it would rain soon. He’d heard that was a phenomenon that occurred on the coast quite often. Rain wasn’t unusual for whatever reason, even though the sun was still shining.
He was tempted to sit down in the water and weather it, allowing himself time to devise a plan. If he intended to seduce RT, he wouldn’t be able to wing it this time. RT was smart, he was cautious, and above all else, he was hell-bent on ignoring whatever this was between them.
This was a job. An important one, at that.
Still, Z knew what he wanted, and he wasn’t sure he could continue to pretend otherwise.
When the raindrops began to fall, Z turned around and trudged toward the stairs. Instead of going inside, he dropped into one of the lounge chairs shaded by the house, closed his eyes, and allowed the water to pelt him from above.
He heard the glass door slide open, but Z didn’t open his eyes.
“It’s raining.”
Z smirked. “Is that what that is?”
RT didn’t respond, but Z didn’t open his eyes, either. He could feel RT staring, likely taking him in the same way he’d seen RT do a thousand times over the last couple of years. It was the same way Z looked at RT, but neither of them had copped to it.
Z figured it had to do with his extracurricular activities. Trace had assumed Z was out with men, and that was a rumor that had started long ago. Little did they know, but Z hadn’t been with a man in… Damn, it’d been six months? Seven? He wasn’t quite sure, but the last relationship he’d been in had been a while ago. Even then, he’d dated the same guy for almost three months before they’d parted ways. Apparently Z’s job was too dangerous, and most of the men he ended up with couldn’t handle the fact that Z put his life on the line for other people.
But there was someone who appreciated what Z did, and he’d been spending a lot of time with him over the years. Only no one knew, and he didn’t intend to share that information.
“What’re you thinkin’ for dinner?” RT called from just inside the house.
As though prompted, Z’s stomach growled. They’d skipped lunch, so an early dinner sounded perfect.
Turning his head to the side, he glimpsed RT standing in the doorway just over his shoulder. “Doesn’t matter. You gonna cook?”
“I can,” RT replied, sounding very unsure of himself.
Z laughed, turning back to face the sky. “I’ve heard the Trexlers can’t cook. Isn’t that the reason y’all have Lilah?”
Lilah Snider was the Trexlers’ longtime housekeeper. She’d been with the Trexler family for something like thirty years.
“I can cook,” RT said defensively.
“Yeah? Then show me your mad culinary skills.” It was a dare, one he knew RT would take. It really didn’t matter to Z who cooked. Or, hell, they could go out for burgers again. He didn’t much care, just as long as he ate.
“Any suggestions?”
“Food,” Z replied. “Hot food.”
RT grunted, but then the glass door slid closed. Z peered over his shoulder once more to see that RT had gone inside. Just as well. The tension between them was potent enough to set the water ablaze.
*
Z realized he must’ve fallen asleep when the scent of food roused him and he noted the shade from the house blocking out the sun had nearly enveloped the entire deck. Getting to his feet, he stretched and then headed inside to where RT was rummaging through the kitchen.
“What’re you makin’?” he asked, stopping on the other side of the island.
There was food…everywhere. And dishes. The place was a mess, and he couldn’t help but laugh as RT stood there looking completely at a loss.
“So it’s safe to say the rumor’s true?” Z joked as he moved around to stand next to RT, staring down at the blackened food in the skillet. “What was that?”
RT glanced over at him, his blond eyebrows downturned. “Chicken.”
Z snorted. “Maybe you should stay outta the kitchen.” Flipping off the burner, Z took the skillet, tossed the chicken in the trash, and went to the phone.
“What’re you doin?” RT questioned.
“Ordering pizza.”
A small smile tugged at the edges of RT’s lips, but he didn’t give in to it completely. Z proceeded to place an order for pizza, not bothering to ask what RT wanted because, yes, he knew the guy well enough that he already knew RT preferred all veggies on his pizza. As far as Z was concerned, it was practically a sin to exclude meat, but Z didn’t condemn the guy for it. He simply ordered two pizzas, one with only veggies, the other doused in meat—double meat.
Two minutes later, dinner was ordered, and Z helped RT clean up the kitchen.
“I called Clay,” RT said after he finished rinsing the final dish and drying his hands on a towel.
“To help out?” Z already knew they were going to need a third person. It was the only option to get inside the gallery and Jericho’s house. He’d made the suggestion as they were heading out of Jericho’s that afternoon. If they could get a man on the inside while they busied their new “friends” at dinner tomorrow night, they could possibly locate the original painting.
“Yeah. He’ll be down tomorrow.”
“What did he say when you told him that Ally has a place down here?”
RT looked up and grinned; this time it wasn’t forced. “I didn’t.”
“Smart man.” Z chuckled. “He’s got a hard-on for that woman, no doubt, but she makes him nervous. Have you seen him around her? He always looks constipated. And I don’t think he says three words.”
RT nodded. “I figured it was safer to let him figure it out when he was already here.”
“I like it. And she’s famous. Maybe our good buddy Jeri reads as well.”
“That’s what I’m hoping,” RT agreed. “I’ll reach out to her in a bit, see if she’d be willing to help out.”
Neither of them spoke for a moment; they merely stood there, less than a foot apart, staring back at one another. RT, with his blond hair and glittering blue eyes, was one of the hottest men Z had ever encountered. He had a hard edge to him, yet a boyish face, which, Z assumed, was why so many people trusted him.
Feeling bold, Z took a step forward, closing the gap between them, never taking his gaze from RT’s face.
“Y-you…you know this can never happen again, right?” RT stuttered, his voice soft, nearly a whisper.
Z pretended to consider that for a moment. “You know what my motto is, right?”
“What’s that?” RT asked, his eyes briefly darting down to Z’s mouth and then back up to meet his eyes.
“Never say never.”
NEVER SAY NEVER.
Ryan didn’t know how to respond to that. As it was, he could hardly keep his eyes on Z’s, wanting desperately to lean up and close the distance between them completely, to put his palms on Z’s bare chest. They were so close a breath could hardly fit between them. Ryan’s body was vibrating, eager to feel Z’s touch again, to taste him, learn every inch so that it was burned in his memory forever, but his brain wasn’t on board.
This was a bad idea.
It was one thing to pretend for the mission. But here…alone…
The temptation was far too great, and reliving the past was never a good idea.
“Why do you think so much?” Z asked, his voice low, sexy, a smirk on his perfect lips.
“Habit,” Ryan answered.
Z’s hand lifted, his big palm sliding over Ryan’s jaw.