Read A Case of Christmas Online
Authors: Josh Lanyon
were waiting in the next room… He didn’t want to understand, but he did, and though it
made no sense, he was moved. Hell, he was getting choked up over it. Over
what
?
“Then the answer was no,” Linus said. “You don’t get to overrule the owner of the
property just because this is important to you.”
Hupert turned his face away. He said in a stifled voice, “I know that.”
Shane said gruffly, “I’m not that busy, and I’m not that important. I won’t dump
anything without letting you have a look at it first. Fair enough?”
Hupert turned back to them, staring.
Shane added grimly, “But
don’t
try to break into my cottage again. I’m not going to
be amused.”
“No! No, it was just a-an impulse. I couldn’t seem to get it out of my head. Once I
knew everything was still there, had been sitting there all this time, I started thinking I
shouldn’t have reminded you, that you might decide to clear everything out.”
Shane shook his head. “No.” He laid Hupert’s screwdriver on the table.
“What was that really about?” Linus asked quietly as they pushed through the small
gate and stepped out onto the sidewalk.
The blinds parted on Hupert’s front window as he stood in the darkness, watching
them leave.
“Who knows,” Shane said. “Reliving the past? Saying good-bye? Second chances?
Or maybe he
is
still after sunken treasure.”
“Are you going to let him sort through Lacey’s papers?”
“Yes.” He glanced at Linus’s profile.
“I didn’t take you for such a softie,” Linus said. He was smiling.
“I’m not. It’s just a way of getting someone to sort through all that crap. I don’t have
time or interest.”
“Sure,” Linus said in a humoring tone. Yet Shane had the feeling Linus did not
disapprove of his decision to let Hupert off the hook.
“I know something you didn’t tell me the first time.”
“What’s that?”
“You were a cop before you became an insurance investigator,” Shane said as they
retraced their footsteps down the windblown street.
“I was. How’d you guess?”
“The way you handle yourself—now that you
are
yourself.”
Linus said lightly, “You can take a boy out of the force, but you can’t take the force
out of a boy.”
“Why’d you leave?”
Linus gave a short laugh. “The truth? I burned out. I saw that nothing I did made a
difference in the long run. The justice system is broken.”
“It’s got a few weak links, but—”
“We couldn’t touch the big fish. All we ever caught were the little fish, and half the
time the punishment didn’t fit the crime. Meanwhile, the big fish sailed on their merry
way, getting bigger and fishier.”
That was an unexpectedly bleak view. Shane didn’t know what to say. In any case,
they had reached his cottage, and Linus was changing the subject.
“Too bad about dinner,” he said. “You’re welcome to come over to my place. I’m
sure I can fix us something. It won’t be buffalo burgers, but it’s better than going to bed
without supper.”
Shane almost said yes. He wanted to say yes. But the bizarre encounter with Bradley
Hupert had left him feeling off-kilter, almost sad. He had liked Norton a lot. Had maybe
been falling in love with him, regardless of what Linus wanted to think. And all he really
knew of Linus was that Linus was the kind of guy who could walk away and never look
back. Spend every day—and every night—with you for two weeks and then never give
you another thought. And if by some chance your paths did cross again, Linus would
happily be willing to pick up where he’d left off because it didn’t mean anything anyway.
Why he found that depressing, Shane wasn’t sure because he’d always kind of been
the same way.
He said, “I think I’ve had enough excitement for one night. But thanks. I appreciate
the offer.”
There was a strangely naked pause. “Oh,” Linus said. “Right.” Then more briskly,
“Another time.”
“Sure,” Shane said. He wasn’t crazy after all, and he very likely would want to take
Linus up on that implied offer one of these days.
Linus started across the street and then turned back. “What about tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow?”
“Christmas Day. You want to come over for turkey? I’ve got a seventeen-pound
Butterball. I can’t eat the whole thing by myself.” Linus was casual, even cheerful. In the
dim light, Shane could see that he was smiling. And yet…maybe Shane
was
getting to
know Linus because he knew that this was Linus braced for further disappointment.
“Uh, sure.” After all, who wanted to spend Christmas alone—even if that had been
the original plan. “What time?”
The set of Linus’s shoulders relaxed. “Two? Three? Whenever you like.”
“I’ll come over about three. I don’t really have anything to bring, but—”
“Don’t worry about that.” Linus stared at him for a moment. “See you tomorrow.”
He turned away, crossed the street, and disappeared inside his cottage.
Shane went into his own cottage and headed straight for the kitchen where he made
himself a cheese sandwich, which he ate in three bites. He followed that with a second
sandwich, and was tempted to go for three except he had a feeling he would regret it.
Instead, he lit the fire, and poured a glass of Hupert’s Dark Origins. Alcohol wouldn’t
normally affect antibiotics, and if the drink did make him sleepy or tired, fine. He had no
plans.
Which was exactly the way he had wanted it. So it would be silly to start second-
guessing his decision to turn Linus down.
The whiskey had a sweetly smoky taste to it. A hint of sherry? A hint of earth. It
tasted like something pirates—classy, pirates—would drink.
He was just settling into one of the leather chairs in front of the fireplace when the
door jumped under an energetic knock.
“Up on the rooftop, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he muttered. Perhaps the whiskey had not been
the best idea.
He set the glass down, rose, and looked out the peephole. Linus stood on the
doorstep, scowling into the night. Shane opened the door.
Linus turned and said roughly, “I want to explain something to you.”
“Okay,” Shane said warily. He stepped back, and Linus entered the cottage. He
regarded Shane with a dark, troubled gaze.
“Go ahead,” Shane said. His heart was racing with a mix of anticipation and dread.
He really hoped he was not going to hear more bad news.
Linus seemed to struggle, then said in that same choppy way, “I honestly didn’t think
what we had together meant anything more than sex to you. You gave no indication that
it did.”
“I don’t know that it did,” Shane said. But that was pride talking, and by now they
both knew it.
“It wasn’t my intent to—to hurt you.”
“I believe that.”
Shane’s admission didn’t seem to ease Linus’s tension. “But even if you had, I didn’t
have a choice. I was hired to investigate you. How much validity would my report have if
we were involved?”
“We
were
involved.”
“I mean, if we stayed involved. If we began an actual relationship.” Linus shook his
head. “Yeah, he’s one hundred percent in the clear, and he also happens to be my
boyfriend.”
Shane was silent. He hadn’t previously considered this angle.
“What was plain to me from the start was you had no intention of leaving the
Bureau. You wanted your job back. And once I figured out you were one of the good
guys, I
wanted
you to have your job back. I wanted to be able to do that for you. To give
you that. But for that to happen, for me to clear you of any suspicion of wrongdoing…I
had to be an objective investigator with no personal stake in the outcome.”
“You’re saying you walked away without a word for my sake?”
“Shane, I never had a clue you were interested in a relationship. But even if I had
thought that…my investigation had to be by the book. Yes, for your sake.”
“Even if that’s true,” Shane began.
“If?”
“Let’s say it is true,” Shane said. “I had a right to know what was going on. And if
what you’re saying is maybe you had feelings for me too, then I doubly had a right to
know. It wasn’t your place to make that choice for both of us. If that’s what you’re saying
you did.”
Linus’s smile was twisted. “You think you would have chosen me over the FBI?”
Shane’s face warmed. “How would I know? There was never any indication on
your
part that what we had together was anything more than sex for you either. But if there
was something more there, then…we should have discussed it. Together.”
Linus shook his head. “There was no way to do that without compromising my
investigation and my findings.”
“Oh, to hell with your investigation,” Shane snapped. “It’s been over two years. You
could have contacted me.”
“You also could have contacted
me
,” Linus said. “You work for one of the biggest
and most powerful law enforcement agencies in the world. If you’d wanted to find me,
you could have done it.”
“Clearly you didn’t want to be found.”
“Didn’t I?”
Shane tried to read Linus’s expression. “
Did
you?”
“I don’t know.” Linus’s eyes met Shane’s. He swallowed, said, “I thought I was a
joke to you.”
Shane’s jaw dropped. “A
joke
?”
“I
was
a joke to you. And I did it to myself.” Linus smiled, a funny, rueful sort of
grimace. “I created this goofball, and then I was stuck with that character.” He met
Shane’s eyes. “Yeah. I did. I did hope that you might come after me. That I mattered
enough that you’d want to find out what happened.”
It sort of felt like when Schrader’s blade had slid right into his guts. A thrill so deep,
so shocking, it took a few seconds to recognize it for pain. Shane felt winded. Weak.
“I… It wasn’t like that,” Shane said. “I didn’t think
you
cared. I thought it was pretty
clear you didn’t. Even once I figured out that you had been hired to investigate me, it
never crossed my mind that I was anything but a case to you.”
Linus’s brows drew together. “No. Jesus, it was embarrassing how fast I fell for you.
I kept telling myself I needed a little distance, but it was all I could do not to tell you
what was going on. And then, when it was over, I thought that if you did care, you’d
come after me. And if you didn’t, then that was the answer. And I knew that
was
the
answer because you’d made it clear from the start you just wanted a little fun, a little
relaxation.”
“At the start, yeah. But later…” Shane shook his head, whispered, “No. Not even
close.”
He thought he moved first, but who moved first was no longer at issue. He reached
for Linus, and Linus was right there. Their mouths met. Linus tasted cold and like he’d
had a shot of something before he’d braved going out to pound on Shane’s door. His kiss
was careful, experimental—or maybe that was Shane because it was important not to get
this wrong.
You only got so many do-overs, and if that’s what this was—and it tasted as sweet
and intoxicating as a second chance—he didn’t want to ruin it.
Linus groaned softly, and one of his arms slid around Shane’s waist. Shane wrapped
an arm around Linus’s shoulders—he wanted more than the press of mouths—and
Linus’s chilly lips heated beneath the pressure of Shane’s. Or maybe, again, that was
Shane. This was the first moment he’d felt really warm since he’d arrived on the island.
Or left it, that long-ago spring.
Their mouths parted, Linus pulling back enough to look Shane in the eyes. His own
gaze was very blue, very sincere. “I’m sorry. If I had known—if I’d realized—” He
shook his head.
“I don’t know why I was so quick to assume it couldn’t be real,” Shane said. “It felt
real at the time.”
He had never been afraid to take chances professionally, but in his personal life?
Until now he hadn’t realized how few emotional risks he took. None. And this was what
it had cost him. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.
The room was dark, the sheets were a little musty, and there was a draft whispering
from the doors leading out onto the small deck, but it was as if spring had arrived early
all the same. They held each other and kissed and kissed and kissed. Sweet and light
kisses. Dark and deep kisses. Apology and acceptance and aloha, which meant both
good-bye and hello, and seemed appropriate even if it wasn’t something people said on
this island. Shane and Linus were on their own island, and it was in bloom.
“Can we do this? I don’t want to hurt you,” Linus said softly, as they moved from
kisses to fondling and petting. His fingers trailed gently down Shane’s ribs, tracing the
line of bandage.
“Nah, you won’t hurt me,” Shane said. Anyway, maybe you needed a little pain now