Fish & Chips (Cut & Run 3)

“I agree,” Zane answered as he nodded. “I"m sure it won"t throw our itinerary off too much to make a change.”

Armen gave a courteous nod. “Very good. I shall be in touch.”

Ty remained silent, practically vibrating with the desire to jump in and say something, dig for information, anything before the man left them. He remained silent though, feigning boredom as he looked away with a long sigh. He slid his sunglasses on as if preparing to return to the pool, and he looked back at Armen. With one push of his thumbnail to the inside of the frame, he activated the tiny camera inside the designer sunglasses. He stared at Armen just long enough to hope the camera got a clear shot, then pushed the button again and looked away.

“We"ll see you soon, Mr. Armen,” Zane said, a slight hint of closure clear in his tone.

“Until then, Mr. Porter,” Armen said. He nodded to Ty. “Mr.

Porter.” And then he was gone, through the doors to the promenade.

Ty stepped back slightly, letting his hands slide down and away from Zane"s body as he watched the man disappear. “He"s kind of slimy, huh?” he said, still using his accent for fear of losing it.

“Yes.” Zane watched the doors with narrowed eyes. “That"s a good description.”

“So much for sticking to our itineraries,” Ty murmured. But if Armen was advancing the schedule, perhaps this job would go faster than they"d anticipated. “But hey, now we know where he"s staying,”

he added brightly. “Right the f**k next door.”

Zane finally turned his chin and refocused his full attention on Ty.

“And we don"t need to worry about any meetings for the rest of the day,” he said with a ghost of a smile.

“Good, gives us time to contact the backup team, get some eyes and ears on this guy. I think I got a good picture, which means we"re already halfway done,” Ty answered distractedly as he peered at the doors and reached out for Zane again almost unconsciously. His hand met warm, firm skin as Zane took a step closer.

“Is that all?”

Ty looked at him with a twist of mischief on his lips. “And my accent is slipping,” he claimed as he moved closer to his partner, his fingers dragging against Zane"s skin as he wrapped his arms around his waist. “I think I"m going to need a little more practice before dinner.”

He pressed a kiss to Zane"s chin.

Zane"s lips quirked as his arms slid around Ty"s waist. “Who are you and what did you do with Ty Grady?” he asked under his breath.

Ty smiled and pulled himself closer, brushing his lips against Zane"s. “Don"t get used to it, darling,” he drawled, kissing Zane again languidly.

Zane"s low chuckle was practically a purr. “Then I"ll enjoy it while I"ve got it. C"mon, baby. Finish what you started out by the pool.”

THEY were in foul moods by the time their scheduled dinner came around, mostly because they"d discovered after getting to their cabin that their luggage included a whole lot of lubricant—flavored, scented, warming, desensitizing, stimulating, silicone, gel, and one tiny tube that Ty suspected had glow-in-the-dark and/or explosive properties—but not a single condom to be found.

Ty cursed himself again for not having foreseen that. Zane had gone to take a shower, muttering darkly after watching Ty go through all the luggage. Now Ty could hear things clinking and sliding and thumping on the marble vanity in the bathroom. When Zane stepped into the doorway, his hair was all slicked back, and he wore tailored black pants that rode low on his hips and a braided gold chain around his neck. Nothing else.

“Dinner had better be good,” he said in resignation. His mood had taken a hit with Armen"s appearance and had deteriorated all afternoon, capped off by them losing track of time. Now they didn"t even have time to make the evening interesting before dinner and let off some steam.

Ty looked at Zane blankly and shook his head, trying to see the humorous side of the situation. He failed miserably and grunted at his equally cranky partner. “I know the guy"s all kinds of classy, but you"re putting a shirt on, right, papi?” he asked wryly.

Zane stalked over to the wardrobe to rifle through the choices with an aggrieved sigh. He looked to be visibly wrangling with making himself relax.

Ty grunted in sympathy and scratched at his chin idly as he watched. “We"ll stop by one of the pharmacies and get some after dinner.”

“Oh, that will go over well. Are you worried about getting pregnant?”

Ty cocked his head and narrowed his eyes at his belligerent partner. He deserved to be cranky, but Ty didn"t deserve to be the target. Ty waffled between responding in kind and trying to defuse a possible argument. Fuck it. “Maybe you"re just not a good enough lay, and I"m cheating on you,” he posed finally.

Zane yanked a shirt off its hanger and turned around. “If I found you cheating on me, I"d beat you black and blue. And you"d get off on it,” he growled in Corbin"s voice.

Ty narrowed his eyes further and leaned forward. There had been a couple times now that he actually believed Zane as Corbin. This instance especially qualified. The line between them was easily blurred.

Ty didn"t particularly like this element of Zane"s transformation, possibly because it didn"t actually feel like a transformation. It was like there was a part of Zane somewhere in there really meant the things he said.

Now Zane steadily held his gaze as he pulled a shirt on. Zane"s eyes were deep brown, almost black, and not at all warm. Ty wasn"t at all intimidated, but he was annoyed just enough to want to deny Zane the fight he was angling for.

He smiled slyly. “You"re probably right.”

The icy scowl on Zane"s face thawed a little, as did the chill in his eyes, and one corner of his mouth curled up as he gave Ty a wink. “Of course I am.”

Ty rolled his eyes and stood. “You ready, cupcake?” he asked drolly.

“I"d feel better if I knew where our damn backup was,” Zane groused as he tucked in the black silk shirt. He"d left two buttons undone at the collar, and he looked slimmer, almost wiry, in the all-black ensemble, despite his six-foot-five frame and broad shoulders.

“What about weapons?” he asked as he strapped a narrow stiletto inside one wrist and buttoned the cuff.

“Well,” Ty started with a heavy sigh as he looked down at himself, “I don"t have anywhere to hide mine. But we can stash one or two more on you maybe.” He looked Zane up and down critically. It was relatively easy for a trained eye to spot a concealed weapon, and their main concern was being discovered as frauds. “I guess the real question is, would Corbin go packing, or should we hide it good enough to make it hard to get to?”