Julian met Ty’s eyes, but he didn’t show a hint of emotion or an inkling of what he was thinking. The guy made the hairs on the back of Ty’s neck stand up, and he found himself putting his hand on his gun without first being aware he was doing it.
Zane dug around in the plastic bags in the trunk for a minute, then walked around the car toward Ty. He had a small plastic package in one hand and a wad of brown cloth in the other.
“What’s all this?” Ty asked as he straightened. He reached out to run a hand down Zane’s arm, not caring that he shouldn’t when they were working. Before this morning, he hadn’t seen his lover in days, had barely touched him in a week, and he knew fishtailing in the car had to have set Zane’s teeth on edge. Echoes of a nasty crash that had almost killed them both would do that.
Plus, Ty didn’t care if the criminals knew he and Zane were an item. It was one thing to stay hands-off for a seven-hour flight. Entirely another for a two-day drive. He was tired of being so careful that it looked like he didn’t care.
Zane offered him a more natural smile as he held up the plastic package. “Wet wipes.” He then shook out the brown fabric. It was a T-shirt, and on the front it displayed a picture of a blue robot with yellow eyes and the words “Overkill is one of my many modes.”
Ty laughed and took the shirt and the wipes. “Thanks, Zane.”
“It sounded like you,” Zane said before taking back the wet wipes to open the package so Ty could use them.
Ty watched him with a growing sense of calm. Just having Zane here with him was enough to keep him sane.
After pulling open the package, Zane glanced up at him. “All right, Grady. Strip down or you’ll be sticky and miserable, and then we’ll all be miserable.”
Ty muttered at him but pulled his wet jeans off, right there on the side of the road. Several cars passing by honked at them, but this didn’t even register on the scale as far as Ty’s embarrassing life moments went. He put the T-shirt on, and they used his other shirt to pat down the front seat. Then they tossed his wet clothing into the trunk, where the smell of the spilled coffee wouldn’t make him want to kill things. He changed into a pair of dirty jeans from the small bag he’d been carrying with him and slid back into the driver’s seat.
He sat in the silence of the car and looked into the rearview mirror. “Next time he won’t be aiming at you,” he told Julian.
Cameron’s eyes widened as he looked from Ty to Zane, but Zane was looking out the windshield rather than back at them and offered no comment.
“Understood, Agent Grady,” Julian said. He didn’t seem put out that his attempt had failed, nor did he seem upset with the overt threat to his lover. That bothered Ty more than he liked to admit, and the simple fact that Julian Cross made him nervous also made him angry.
And he wanted to know how the hell Julian had slipped those cuffs so quickly.
He started the car with a grunt. “Buckle up,” he told them, even though neither man could comply because of their handcuffs. He pulled back out into traffic with a less than gentle yank of the wheel that sent both men toppling sideways.
Chapter 6
CAMERON looked out the window at the Comfort Inn, thinking it looked like it had landed right out of the seventies. Two floors, dark wooden plank construction, narrower and higher windows than in newer hotels, but it seemed nice enough for being out in the middle of nowhere, northern Indiana, off the toll road. It was almost three, and Cameron was exhausted. Surely Ty and Zane were too, and after Julian’s attempted escape, they didn’t seem to be willing to take any chances.
He dozed some while Zane was inside arranging their room, leaning his head against Julian, who had pulled as close as he could while handcuffed to the ring on the floor. The handcuffs were something new for Cameron. He’d watched in horror as Julian picked his lock in the car with a flick of his wrist and nothing more, wondering at how much practice something like that would take. His lover never ceased to amaze him with all his nefarious skills.
Cameron sometimes wondered about his own moral makeup, that something like that could sort of turn him on.
He smiled and turned his head to press his cheek against Julian’s shoulder. Julian turned his chin to try to kiss the top of his head, an almost unconscious gesture, but he couldn’t reach due to the way they were cuffed. He sighed, an exasperated sound that Julian rarely made, and he looked out the window, eyes narrowed.
Ty sat in the front seat, muttering to himself, his knee bouncing so quickly it was more a vibration. That Red Bull hadn’t done the man much good, and it had only had an hour to wear off. Cameron was almost amused by the dichotomy of the two federal agents. Zane was so calm and steady and dark, taking things in stride, tolerantly handling any adversity that came their way until Julian’s escape attempt. And then Ty seemed the complete opposite. He was wired to the sky, and he struck Cameron as a big floppy puppy, cracking jokes, attention bouncing from one thing to another, patience thin as a wafer. Ty was the Omega to Zane’s Alpha.
They were both handsome, and while Zane was more Cameron’s type than Ty was, there was something about Ty’s rugged exterior that made him more approachable and attractive.
They certainly were the odd couple of partners, although Zane was the one who felt like a threat to Cameron now that he’d been exposed to them both. Julian obviously felt the same way. Cameron could still feel the tension invested in his tall frame. “Can’t you relax just a little? You’re so wound up,” he whispered, looking up at Julian.
Julian turned and cocked his head to meet his eyes, then smiled. “No more than usual,” he murmured, his voice low and gruff.
“I can tell,” Cameron said, wishing he could get close enough to touch him with something besides his foot or his nose.
“It’ll be okay. Just do as they tell you.”
“Quit with the whispering,” Ty said in a sharp voice.
Cameron could see the reflection of his eyes in the rearview mirror, looking back at them. “So you can scoff at us for having a quiet moment? I don’t think so,” he said with a sniff as he tried to cuddle closer against Julian.
“Kid, I don’t think you really understand the situation, here, so let me make it perfectly clear,” Ty said, voice going harder and hazel eyes flashing with anger. “You and your boyfriend are federal prisoners, and you do exactly what we tell you, when we tell you, without the attitude and without the cute little remarks. One coffee in my lap is all the free pass you get, and we don’t have to f**king be nice about it. You whisper, I leave you on the side of the road and he rolls in the trunk. Got it?”