For a brief moment, Z’s hand was tense, as though the action had surprised him. Ryan knew how he felt, because he’d surprised himself. But after a few minutes of walking, holding Z’s hand, it felt right, almost as though this was the exact place they were supposed to be at this particular moment in time.
The feeling was incredibly confusing considering Ryan was both scared and content. He didn’t know what he was supposed to feel, and he wasn’t sure whether this was real or temporary. Because they were alone here on assignment, paired together for an undetermined amount of time, Ryan feared they could very well be leaning on one another as a way to pass the time.
As much as he wanted to believe this was real, this was something that might possibly go somewhere in the future, his doubts still outweighed his hope. Then there was the mission, which was not going well, could very well fail because of their lack of focus. That wasn’t something he wanted to think about, because he would never forgive himself if he put his feelings above the importance of the job.
Now, as he peered over at Z, he wondered what he was thinking about, but he couldn’t bring himself to ask. Whether or not that was because he didn’t want to know the answer or simply because he couldn’t bear to think about what would happen after this assignment was over, Ryan didn’t know.
And for now, he was going to have to be content with that.
TWENTY-SEVEN
Saturday evening
FOR MOST OF THE DAY, while they got ready for the gallery show, Z felt as though he were walking around outside his own body. Every time he glanced at RT, he pictured him spread out before him, taking Z’s cock deep in his ass, begging for more, and then… Then Z would remember the way they’d lounged around the house yesterday, swimming in the pool and the ocean before climbing into bed once again and making love. Afterward, RT had pressed up against Z’s side while Z trailed his fingers leisurely up and down RT’s back until they both had fallen asleep.
By far, best day of his life. Up to this point, anyway.
And ever since, it hadn’t been easy to disguise the constant hard-on he sported, but now that he and RT were walking into the art gallery, Z knew he would have to put more effort into not thinking about what had transpired between them over the last forty-eight hours.
Easier said than done, that was for sure. His brain was on the fritz, constantly trying to decipher what was to come, what could possibly happen between him and RT when they returned to Dallas after the assignment was over, whether they would still be able to see one another. Most importantly, whether or not Z would find himself slamming headfirst into that emotional brick wall RT normally kept between them if it came out of nowhere.
There was always that possibility, but he was trying his best not to think about that.
Once they had finally crawled out of bed that morning, they’d showered together again—something Z could quite easily get used to—then headed for the kitchen. Z had made breakfast, and RT hadn’t complained, though it hadn’t been quite as intimate as the day before, because RT was once again in full-out work mode. The fantasy had been completely shattered when Clay had showed up, insinuating himself in between them in order to work.
For most of the day, RT had been on the phone with Austin and Dominic, both of Sniper 1’s tech geniuses, attempting to locate how Jericho Ardent was moving his painting since they’d failed at locating its whereabouts beforehand. After hours of hacking, they’d come up empty. It was clear to all of them that Jericho was serious about protecting his treasure, and for the first time in a long time, Z had to wonder whether they were going to be able to successfully complete this mission.
Granted, Jericho had hired them to protect the painting while at the gallery, and RT had done as he’d told Jericho he would, hiring a handful of rent-a-cops for appearances, so technically the mission was still a go. Colby, who’d been called in to help, had suggested that they bring in their own people as a decoy, hoping for a better chance at retrieving the painting before Jericho could whisk it off to safety once again, but that was shot down immediately. It would’ve been a good idea prior to Jericho and Amahn having seen most of their agents at the party on Thursday night, but now, not so much. There was no way they could pull it off, so RT had opted to go with the original plan.
“What happens if we don’t get our hands on this painting?” Z asked RT now as they roamed the perimeter of the room, surveying all the people who’d arrived. The place was packed, everyone dressed in formal attire, including him and RT, as well as Clay and Ally.
The tuxedo Z had been told to wear was again one that Kira had shipped down to them. It wasn’t Z’s favorite, that was for sure, but he preferred it to the other suits he owned. Tonight he knew he had no choice but to be on his best behavior, so he refused to fidget in the penguin suit. This was the critical moment, the time when they would either make or break this assignment. Protecting the painting for Jericho was second to acquiring it and handing it over to DHS, but until they had a clear opportunity, they’d agreed to act as though their only intention was keeping an eye on it.
Rather than explain the repercussions if the assignment went to the shitter, RT scowled back at him, his lips a hard, thin line.
“Got it.” Z didn’t need an explanation.
It wasn’t typical for them to fail. In fact, it rarely happened. But they weren’t perfect, and no plan was guaranteed to be a success. At this point, Z could only hope for an unexpected twist that would work in their favor.
While keeping a smile planted on his face, Z followed RT around the large, open room, giving the art a cursory glance while taking note of the people he recognized and those he didn’t.
“Update?” Trace’s terse tone rang in Z’s earpiece.
For a moment, he’d forgotten that Trace and Colby were sitting on Jericho’s beach house, ready to go in and grab the fake painting that they’d previously located and reconfirmed a short time ago was still in the same place. They would need it. Eventually.
RT turned to face Z, smiling as he spoke. “Original painting’s in place. A lot of interest.”
“Not from me,” Clay noted, and from where Z stood, he could see Ally peering up at him confused. She’d been warned they would be wearing earpieces, but he doubted she’d expected to have Clay randomly blurting things out.
Z smiled back at RT, nodding in an attempt to join in on the ruse, hoping others would think they were having an intimate conversation.
“We’re bored,” Trace complained via the earpiece, making Z chuckle.
“Jack yourself off,” RT muttered.
“Don’t need to,” Trace instantly answered. “I’ve got a wife now, remember? Oh, that’s right, she’s your sister.”
“Fuck you, Kogan,” RT grumbled, his piercing blue eyes meeting Z’s momentarily.
Z couldn’t help but laugh. Trace had taken to tormenting RT regarding the fact that he’d married Marissa. Granted, those taunts didn’t usually involve details of their sex life, and he could tell RT wasn’t amused.
“We’ve got incoming,” Z told RT when he caught Jericho and Amahn moving their way.
RT turned, greeting the two men with a handshake and a smile.
That was when Z noticed another man, this one a spitting image of Amahn, only younger. The same young man Z had seen in the picture in Amahn’s office.
“I’d like you to meet my son, Amit. Amit, this is RT and Z.”
Amit’s dark gaze scanned them both briefly, clearly unimpressed, but the only greeting he offered was a curt head nod. He didn’t appear happy to be there.
“Amit.” RT acknowledged him but didn’t bother with further pleasantries. “Are you into art?”
“I work here.” Again Amit’s face was stony as he responded tersely.
Z’s brain turned over that information. Perhaps…
“Well, we better mingle with the others,” Amit announced, evidently in a hurry to get away from them.