In the past two weeks, Border hadn’t met Maya, and Jake didn’t mention her. It was as if when Holly had dumped Jake, he’d done something to Maya, as well. Border wasn’t sure what it was, but he had a bad feeling about it.
Since he’d been back, though, his time hadn’t been all about mooning over Jake and trying to plan the rest of his life. Instead, he’d been working, and pointedly ignoring anything to do with the other Gallaghers. And Montgomerys, for that matter. He didn’t want to get tangled up with the ever-growing families until he could be in the same room with Jake and not feel awkward as hell.
While he was in Denver for Jake, and he wouldn’t lie about that to himself even if he wanted to, he was also there to take care of a job he’d failed to complete. He’d failed in the worst way possible, and there was no way he’d let the rest of his mission go by the wayside because he was acting like a damn teenager in heat when it came to Jake Gallagher.
Border wasn’t government, and didn’t have the same rules that those in charge did, but he did have a code. And not letting his charges die in his care was part of it. Of course, he couldn’t tell Jake any of that. It wouldn’t be safe for anyone if Jake had even an inkling of what Border truly did for a living.
He let out a breath and looked down at his phone, reading the latest message from the family he’d handed his last charge off to. They were good people, and he knew they could keep this one safe—unlike the last place Border had been. He closed his eyes and tried to push the memories of the screams out of his head.
It wasn’t like he was some secret agent or anything as media-worthy as that. He just did odd jobs for people who couldn’t help themselves. Everything he did was legal, but sometimes, it toed the line. He protected people when those who should have been able to couldn’t.
And because he worked alone most of the time, he had to learn to trust his instincts. That trust had gotten people close to him murdered, and now he had to face the consequences. He’d left the business, left everything that would have gotten him killed in the next couple of years. He just had to finish this one job, and he’d be clean.
The fact that he could do that in Denver while trying to find a way back to a life he’d thought he wanted had made the idea of coming home worth it.
Only Jake kept pushing him away without even trying, and Border didn’t know how much longer he’d last before he blew up at the other man.
Jake stormed into the living room, clay on his forearms and a mark on his forehead. He’d washed his hands, but they were still wet and fisted at his sides. He growled to himself.
“Problems?” Border asked. He stirred a big pot of chili and raised a brow at the other man.
“I’m fine,” Jake bit out. The other man opened the fridge and looked in without grabbing anything before closing the door. “Why are you cooking?”
Border kept stirring the pot, doing his best not to stir another pot—namely the one between him and Jake. “I’m hungry and wanted food. I’m tired of eating out so I don’t bother you, so I’m cooking dinner for both of us. You used to like my chili.”
So much for not stirring the pot.
“I barely remember your chili,” Jake growled.
Border rolled his eyes. “You remember just fine. Don’t be an asshole because you’re in a bad mood.”
Jake ran his middle finger over his eyebrow. “Actually, I think being in a bad mood is the perfect time to be an asshole.”
Border snorted. Jake had him there. “I guess you’re right.” He dipped the wooden spoon into the chili and brought it up to his lips. His eyes still on Jake’s, he blew on the spoon to cool the bite of chili.
“Want a taste?”
Jake’s throat worked as he swallowed, and he nodded. Border moved the spoon toward Jake’s lips, and the other man opened his mouth. When Jake clamped his hand around Border’s wrist to steady him, Border held back a groan.
Jake’s tongue snaked out and tasted the chili before he took the bite, his gaze never leaving Border’s.
Beans and meat had never been so fucking sexy.
Jake licked his lips and nodded. “Really good. Not too spicy, but it has a kick.”
Border let out a slow breath before washing off the spoon and setting it to the side of the pot. “Good. That’s what I was going for.”
Jake leaned against the fridge and folded his arms over his chest. “What are you doing here, Border?”
Border moved so he could rest his hip on the counter. He mimicked Jake’s pose unconsciously but didn’t move back. Jake wasn’t talking about the chili, and Border wasn’t going to bother to pretend that he was. “I’m moving back.”
Jake’s eyes widened. “For good?”
“Yeah, for good. I told you that already.” Didn’t he?
“You might have mentioned it, but I wasn’t sure if I believed it, you know? You were gone for a long time, and there are other places you could have stayed.”
“And I stayed in those places. I wanted to be here.”
“Here as in Denver, or here as in with me? Because I don’t know what you want, Border, let alone what I want.”