“I reserve the right to add rules,” Ty responded with a deeper flush as he crossed his arms protectively over his jacket.
“What about me?” Zane asked, fascinated by Ty’s mind at work despite the shuffling it had suffered. The man was obviously struggling with something he didn’t want to admit. Zane thought, perhaps, Ty wanted him and didn’t want to say so. Perhaps.
“What about you?” Ty asked uncomfortably.
“Do I get to make rules?” Zane asked, moving slightly closer.
Something about Ty had changed. He seemed more approachable, more moldable. Definitely more fuckable. Like the hit on the head had knocked some of the abrasive stubbornness out of him.
“Maybe,” Ty allowed warily.
Another step forward, so they were practically chest to chest again.
“Only maybe?” Zane rumbled.
Ty breathed out heavily through his nose and tilted his head to the side restlessly.
Zane tilted his head to match him. “How about we take turns making rules?” he purred, putting both hands on the leather jacket and pulling it out from between them. This he could do. Sex he could do. Sex with Ty he could definitely do.
Ty just licked his lips and watched the jacket as if it were a lifeline slipping away. Zane laid it aside on the table, reached up, and turned Ty’s chin toward him. Hell, sometimes just looking at him made Zane hard, and all good sense went flying out the eighth-story window. What being this close was doing to him …Ty was a goddamn narcotic.
“What about not-surprise kisses?” Zane rasped.
Ty swallowed heavily and inclined his head slightly, his chin still in Zane’s grasp. “I don’t think those have been banned yet,” he finally answered hoarsely.
Zane realized that he finally had Ty just as off-kilter as Ty had him.
And Ty was a very strong man. Strong of will and strong of opinion.
“Good,” Zane replied. “Just wanted that clarified. Now. You want me to not-surprise kiss you or walk away?”
“Neither,” Ty answered gruffly, lowering his head stubbornly before reaching up and grabbing the back of Zane’s neck to pull him that last inch closer and kiss him.
Joining in the kiss, Zane pulled Ty hard up against his body, wrapping his arms around him. Fuck, why did they always talk so much? This was the way they related best. This was the way they clicked. What were they supposed to do with that?
Ty finally pushed away and held him at arm’s length. “Now what?”
he panted breathlessly, his breath hitching painfully as his ribs protested the festivities.
Zane shook his head. “Are you feeling this, too?” he rasped. This insane, blown-away pleasure, the near impossible-to-assuage hunger, the ache deep inside, contrasted by short moments of tenderness that seemed so out of place. Zane certainly wasn’t sure where they came from, but oh, God …
Ty watched him, still trying to slow his breathing and holding him at arm’s distance. “No,” he lied blithely.
Knowing full well what Ty was saying, Zane let out a pent-up breath before slowly shaking his head. “Me, either,” he said, voice more intent than he’d meant it to be. His eyes stayed unswervingly on his partner.
Ty was nodding almost fervently even as Zane spoke. “Good,” he breathed quietly. “That’s good.”
Zane nodded slowly. “Yeah … good.”
ROUGHLY an hour later, Zane and Ty sat in a booth at the Hard Rock Cafe, Ty shifting restlessly in a new jacket he had sworn he would never like as they both pretended not to be watching the door.
“I don’t know why you’re pissy about the jacket,” Zane said to him, admiring the black leather as he tapped his unlit cigarette on the table. Damn no-smoking-in-restaurants ordinances. “I should have gotten one. Been a few years since I had a leather jacket.”
“It’s black,” Ty huffed. “And it smells new.”
“They had brown,” Zane pointed out, eyes studying the busy crowd.
“There’s no help for it smelling new, unless you want to find some dirt and roll around in it, maybe drive over it a few times with the SUV.”
“My other one got run over by a motorcycle once,” Ty responded hopefully, leaning forward on his elbows. “And the brown ones was all too small."
Zane smiled, noticing the way Ty’s accent was stronger and his grammar was worse when he was irritated. The more he got to know him, the more obvious it was becoming that a lot of Ty Grady was a façade—or layers of several masks. Zane wasn’t sure if he would ever see the real man, and it made him slightly sad. He thought maybe he would really like the real man.
“You could have waited,” he pointed out. “Lord knows there’re enough stores in this town.” He sat back, stretching his legs out to the side of the table almost into the aisle. “Maybe I’ll go get one yet.”
“Yeah, that’ll be fun, being twins,” Ty muttered under his breath.
Finally, he growled and shrugged out of the squeaky new leather and tossed it across the table at Zane. “Fucking take it,” he muttered.
Catching the jacket just before it hit him in the face, Zane grinned and shook it out, looking over it gleefully. Without even blinking away from the jacket, he murmured, “Henninger’s here,” before saying louder, “Thanks, Grady, it’s not even my birthday.”
“You can go fuck yourself,” Ty muttered, loud enough for Henninger to hear as he approached the table.
“Well, it’s … good to see you’re still the same sweet pair,” Henninger murmured as he nodded at them and glanced around idly before sliding into the booth beside Zane.
“What can I say, it’s still the honeymoon phase,” Zane answered dryly, picking up his iced tea.
“My condolences,” Henninger responded flatly, nodding at Zane.
“What the hell is going on?” he asked as Ty growled wordlessly.
“You tell us,” Zane retorted, still sitting back, relaxed. “I imagine the shit’s still hitting the fan at the office.”
“And it’s dripping off the walls,” Henninger nodded in answer. “Is there a … particular reason, by any chance, that you two haven’t come back in yet?” he asked carefully. “Are you okay?” he asked Ty with a small frown.
Zane glanced at Ty, who was doing a good job of looking bored and disinterested. That or his head was still pounding and he really wasn’t paying attention. It was hard for Zane to tell. “He’s got a little headache. He’s fine,”
he answered for the other man. “And we’re rather fond of our skins,” he continued. “The office seems to be a hotbed of opportunity for assassinations right now,” Zane said. “Can you get the information we need?”
“You think someone in the Bureau is trying to kill you,” Henninger murmured almost under his breath, repeating his words from the day before but sounding slightly more convinced. The noise of the busy restaurant covered their conversation perfectly. “How did he find out why you were here?” he asked, apparently wanting them to know that he agreed with their assumptions. “And why risk confirming what, up to now, has just been a suspicion?”
Zane just raised his brow, and they sat back quietly as a server appeared to take Henninger’s drink order and drop off Ty and Zane’s appetizer. Snapping out of his supposed daze, Ty reached forward and snagged a chicken finger, crunching on it as he watched Henninger thoughtfully. The kid seemed to be having a hard time coming to terms with the fact that the serial really was an FBI man.
“It ain’t just us he’s trying to off,” Ty said to the younger man.
“There was an attempt on you as well, in case you forgot,” he reminded softly. “This boy knows what we’re doing before we do it. He knows how to get in and get out without getting on tape. He’s a step ahead of us all the way.”
“Look, we’re not going back in there, and we’re not reporting in again until we get some hard evidence to take to someone high up,” Zane said. “You can get us the information we need from inside—and you’ve proven you can keep your mouth shut.” He reached out and took up a loaded potato skin. “We’ll take care of the rest,” he murmured, meeting Ty’s eyes.
Ty merely sat and stared, and Henninger looked between them with a frown. “I don’t like this,” he finally muttered. He shifted uncomfortably and looked away. He had several healing cuts on his face and a laceration that had been stitched up on his neck.
Ty watched him with a small frown. It had taken a lot of guts for the kid to come out here and meet them, knowing they were AWOL. And he appeared to be legit, which Ty found almost surprising. No tail that Ty had seen. Risking his neck to try and help them just days after getting metal and plastic shrapnel to the face, the kid was earning Ty’s grudging respect.
“Okay,” Henninger finally said softly as he looked back at Zane and then at Ty.
Zane smiled crookedly. “Good. Here’s what we need.”
STANDING outside the SUV smoking, Zane waited as Ty finished talking with Henninger before they went their opposite ways. The kid had balls, that was for sure. He still seemed so damn naïve, though. Shaking his head, he leaned back against the door, tapping ashes to float to the ground.
“That shit’ll kill you, y’know,” Ty murmured as he walked up to stand beside the SUV.
Zane gave him an amused look as he pulled the cigarette from between his lips. “This was the least destructive of my vices. Quit as many as I did and see if you don’t need one to keep the others in line.” He thought about that for a minute. “I suppose I could have kept whoring instead.”
“That’ll kill you, too,” Ty responded simply.
Taking another drag, Zane tipped his head. “Maybe I’ll think about it when I don’t need the stress relief,” he allowed. He blew the smoke up into the air away from Ty and chuckled darkly. “They were all good for that.”
“Why not troll the bars?” Ty asked curiously, unable to help himself.
“You’re a good-looking guy. Did you just get a kick out of paying for it?”
Zane smiled. “Did I catch a compliment in there?” he asked, flicking ashes to the side as he looked at his feet. He took another pull off the half-gone cigarette before answering. “Breaking the rules is addictive, too.”
Ty inclined his head slightly and peered at Zane through the dark lenses of his brown aviators. “How in the hell did you make it past the psych exams?” he asked finally in exasperation.
Breathing in deeply and blowing the smoke out and away, Zane looked resigned. “You’re not the only one good at lying through your teeth.”
Ty was silent for a long moment before he leaned closer and lowered his sunglasses enough to meet Zane’s eyes. “If you turn out to be the killer I’m going to be all kinds of pissed off, got it?” he warned.
Zane threw back his head and laughed. “I got plans for a lot more fucking before any mercy killing, man,” he said, taking a last drag of the cigarette before dropping it and grinding it under his boot.
Ty snorted in response and looked up and down the sidewalk slowly before reaching for the door handle and opening the passenger side door.
“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” he muttered. “I got a headache.”
Keys jingling in hand, Zane climbed into the SUV along with Ty.
“Henninger said he’d put in the paperwork for the car so they won’t tag us for it,” Ty said as they both got settled. “He also said I never actually called him about those damn personnel files. I could have sworn I did.”
“I think we got distracted by food, then the NYPD called and off we went,” Zane answered regretfully. “Did he say he’d get on it?”
“He said he’d need the original files. They’re in the old room,” Ty answered.
“Holiday Inn?” Zane asked.
Ty nodded. “I want my other jacket,” he grumbled in answer.
Zane looked down at his dandy new black jacket and smirked. “Off we go, then.” He went quiet for a long minute as the radio played. “Whiner.”
“Shut up,” Ty muttered, trying not to watch the traffic passing so it wouldn’t make him sick. He took his sunglasses off and rubbed his eyes. “I should not have eaten,” he murmured after a moment, and he leaned his head against his hand and covered his eyes with his fingers.
Glancing over at the other man, worry showed on Zane’s face. “We can go back to the Tribeca for a while,” he offered. “I don’t particularly want to see you puking your guts up.”
It spoke to just how lousy he was feeling that Ty didn’t argue. He just swallowed heavily and nodded in agreement. Zane turned at the next right and twenty minutes later they pulled up at the doors. “Go ahead. I’ll go park the truck,” Zane said.
“No,” Ty answered with a shake of his head as he looked up at the hotel. “We need to stick to each other as much as we can.”
Without saying another word, Zane put the SUV back in motion and drove down into the parking garage. When he stopped the truck, one glance at the other man worried him more. “Ty, you don’t look so good.”
“I don’t feel so good, neither,” Ty muttered. A violent shiver ran through him, and he looked over at Zane with a frown. He had lost his color, and he was feeling slightly light-headed.
Zane’s eyes widened. “Is this left over from before? Are you that sensitive to drugs?”