And Call Me in the Morning (2 page)

Eli had to admire Zane at work. They could have used a laser stare like Zane's on the force back in the day. He'd have had perps pissing their pants with nothing more than a look.

Zane turned it on Diana. “Look at you, Mrs. Robinson.”

Diana possessed not the smallest trace of shame. “You wish you had my cojones.”

“True.”

Their byplay didn't stop Holly. Nothing did, as far as Eli could tell. Hell, her husband egged her on; Eli held it in private opinion that the pair of them enjoyed more kink than a Slinky. She folded her hands beneath her chin and gave Zane her best you-can-trust-me psychotherapist face. “It just seems obvious to everyone but the pair of you.”

“It's true,” Diana said. She started to pick through the packages of fake and real sugar, searching for Splenda. “You go to the symphony together. Ball games.
Brunch
, for God's sake. And when was the last time you went out with a woman, the pair of us aside?”

Eli opened his mouth, closed it, and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “So it's been a while. I don't have time for playing the field when I'm trying to get ahead with my career.”

“But you have time to spend with Zane,” Holly said sweetly.

Eli gave up. For the moment.

Diana didn't. “Take, for example, the way you two are sitting. Shoulder to shoulder.”

“The table is crowded,” Eli protested. “Four-person table, five people jammed in. You're plastered against Taye.”

Diana smiled like a cat who'd just gotten her first taste of the cream and said nothing.

Fine, that hadn't helped. Frustrated, Eli looked to Zane for support. No luck; Zane was busy waving for more coffee all around.

Eli wasn't an idiot. When he examined Zane through objective eyes, he could see the appeal. Zane looked closer to thirty than forty, excepting the smile lines and small sprinkling of silver in his hair, and it was a trim, fit thirty with a body he kept in tip-top shape with rigorous exercise.

Not that Eli had anything to be ashamed of on that count, either. Zane's enthusiasm for biking and boxing had chivied Eli out of the threat of middle-aged spread and back into better shape than he'd been on the force. Handsome, fit, successful.

So yes, he noticed these things. Didn't everybody? And so they spent most of their time together. Mankind wasn't made to be alone. Big deal.

Zane's beeper shrilled. He rolled his eyes to the heavens. “I'm going to take this in my car. If the waiter comes around, order for me, but no meat. As soon as we're done here I'm going back to Immaculate Grace and carving myself a filet of intern. Not you,” he said as an aside to Taye. “You're doing great. Keep up the good work. Eli, tell them I want the usual, okay?”

Eli didn't let Diana or Holly ask. “Yes, I know his usual. Belgian waffle with cinnamon sugar and whipped cream, the real stuff, and a fruit salad.
No
strawberries.” He swatted Zane's hip as Zane scooted behind him and away. “Don't worry; I've got it covered.”

“No strawberries?” Taye asked.

“He's allergic,” Eli said. Medicine fell outside the personal-business umbrella, and Zane considered nothing taboo anyway. Still grated Eli's nerves a bit to answer. “I've never seen how allergic, but he carries an EpiPen. No sense taking chances.”

Hoping the subject would be dropped, knowing there was no way he'd get that lucky, Eli studied the menu until he could no longer ignore the women clicking their tongues at him. Approximately thirty seconds. “What?”

The women exchanged Highly Significant Looks. “Doth the gentleman protest too much?” Diana asked.

“He doth,” Holly agreed. “Let me ask you a question, Eli.”

“Since I'm well aware that I can't stop you, please, proceed.” Eli crossed his arms and waited for it.

“How much time did you spend with your ex-wife before she took off for—where was it again?” She shushed him before he could answer. “It's Austria with Pieter, by the way. I actually know this, and you don't. Now tell me: how much time do you spend with Zane?”

Eli scowled and said nothing.

Holly pounced. “You see? I'll bet you can even tell me where Zane was night before last.”

There was no way he would win here, was there? “My place,” Eli admitted. “Takeout and
Die Hard
. What's your point?”

“I think their point is that you're all but married,” Taye said. Apparently he'd chosen sides. Good to know. For that, he would pay. “Look, I know a few things about what it's like to love your own gender. It's strange as hell at first.”

Diana's face fell in a way that would have been heartbreaking if it hadn't been ever so satisfying instead. “You're—”

Taye blushed but kept his chin up. “Yes.”

“No disrespect to you personally intended, Taye, but can I just say
ha
?” Eli pointed at Holly and Diana in turn. “Your gaydar needs a tune-up.”

Diana didn't take defeat graciously. She narrowed her eyes at Taye. “Prove it.”

“Hey.” Eli straightened. “Nobody around here has to prove anything. Diana, leave him alone.”

Taye's color heightened. “I can fight my own battles, thanks.”

Eli held up his hands in mock surrender. “Suit yourself, tough guy.”

Maybe it was the lack of sleep followed by the powerful coffee, or maybe Taye was one of those fortunate fools who didn't hesitate to jump in where mortals feared to tread. “Excuse me.” Taye touched the waiter's arm as he approached, coming in on the third round of coffee refills. “Would it be all right with you if I kissed you?”

The waiter stared at him. Eli waited for the “No!”

Instead, their waiter did a quick check to make sure no managerial eyes were on him, slid his carafe onto the table, and pressed in close to Taye. “I thought you'd never ask, handsome.” He stood on tiptoe and—

Eli sighed. Holly made cooing noises that unfortunately didn't cover up the noises of a highly enthusiastic kiss. A darker mood still shadowed Eli's thoughts when the sound of the smacking prompted a stir in his groin.

He tapped his foot thoughtfully.
All right, so maybe it's been a longer dry spell than I'll admit to this crowd. I'm a busy man. That doesn't mean listening to two pretty boys make out turns me on
. Or
Zane. It just means I need to get laid, or at least spend a quality afternoon with my right hand.

“Is that what we're leaving instead of a tip?” Zane made his reappearance without fanfare or notice from anyone except Eli. “If that's the case, we should take Taye out with us more often.”

Eli chuckled. “I was just enjoying the sight of Diana proved wrong.”

Diana scowled at Taye. “He's your boyfriend, isn't he? No wonder you were willing to brunch instead of crash.”

“Can you blame me?” Taye kissed the waiter again, this time on the tip of his nose. “See you later, handsome.”

Was he? Eli couldn't see the appeal, himself. Waiter-boy was shorter than Taye by at least half a foot, wiry, curly dark hair, a button nose… Okay, maybe he could see it a little. Discomfort at PDA aside, Eli was man enough to admit the pair of them were almost cute. He knew he'd be just as fidgety with a hetero couple. The last time Holly's computer-something-or-another-engineer husband, Keith, had come along to brunch, he'd almost wanted to crawl under the table.

Not even Diana could stand up against that. She sighed and shifted fully from tigress on the hunt to full-fledged fan club member. “Worth it.”

A faint touch at his elbow drew Eli's attention to Holly. “You see?” she asked, quiet as a mouse. A far-too-knowing mouse. “That's the way you and Zane look at each other. You're the only two who can't see it.”

“Be that as it may. We're not interested. Not homophobic, Taye, so no offense to you. You two ladies, stop going there. This is the last time I'm going to ask. We're friends. That's all. Leave it alone.”

Diana clicked her tongue against her teeth. Eli didn't like the look on her face. Too suspicious by half. “Let me ask you this. How do you know there's nothing more to it? Have you ever tried?”

Even Holly tried to shush her at that, but the damage was done. “I think we're done here.” Eli dropped his napkin on the table and stood. “My private life is just that: private. I've had about enough of defending myself.”

“Like I said. Protesting too much,” Diana said. She wasn't one to back down. Normally Eli liked that about her. Normally. Not so much now. “Look it up.”

Zane caught him up before Eli had reached the parking lot. He might have expected it. Did, to tell the truth. Eli stopped midreach for his keys and waited.

Zane fell into step beside Eli, pretending to busy himself with reaching for the pack of smokes and lighter he kept on him at all times. A doctor who smoked. Eli had never quite gotten the sense in that, but everyone had at least one vice to keep 'em human.

Didn't mean he'd silently suffer secondhand. “Light that around me and die.”

“Nice.” Zane wrinkled his nose. He slid the Zippo back into his pocket and tapped the cigarette filter against his wrist instead. “I'm still hungry. Want to take one car and swing by a drive-through?”

“You don't have to leave. This is my issue.”

“No? Hate to break it to you, pal, but you're not the only one they had in the hot seat.” Zane shaded his eyes to look up at the sun. “Speaking of which, it's going to be strangely warm today.”

“Zane.”

“What? I'm just saying.” Zane stopped at last but in front of Eli, effectively halting his progress as well.

“We've got to do something about them. You realize that.”

“Calm down. They'll get tired of heckling us sooner or later.”

“Really? How long have they not gotten tired of it so far? Two years and counting?”

“Two years' worth of overpriced bread and jam,” Zane agreed. “Maybe you should cut them a break.”

Eli flicked his ear. “Come again? I couldn't have heard you right.”

“They just want us to be happy. What's so bad about that?” Zane scruffed his hair. He wouldn't quite look at Eli, but then again, that wasn't so unusual. The man had a strange and, in his own special way, brilliant mind. In Eli's experience, Zane saw life as one giant chess game, and he tended to keep an eye on three or four possible moves in the future.

Huh. On second consideration, Eli wasn't too sure he liked the possible applications here. “Spill it. Whatever you're thinking, it can't be good.”

“Suspicious, aren't you? It's almost like you know me.” Zane snapped back to the here and now, all casual joie de vivre again. “Promise you'll hear me out first.”

“This should be good.” Eli glanced behind himself and propped his hip on a behemoth of an SUV that would hide them nicely from the bistro. Unintentional cover, but he'd take what he could get. “Fine. Lay it on me.”

“Interesting choice of words.” Zane's lips quirked. “Here's the skinny. They keep nagging at us. We keep saying no. They're not hearing the 'no.'”

“I'm with you so far.”

“Ask yourself: why are they not hearing the denial?”

“They're stubborn deviants who don't have the sense to come in out of the rain?”

Zane laughed. “That too. But they're scientists, like us. For a given value of science. I think Holly's got some kind of voodoo going for her instead.”

“Can't argue with you there. Where were you going with this?”

Eli watched the sunlight play off Zane's hair in glints as Zane visibly sorted through what he wanted to say next. He'd moved past the overdue-for-a-haircut stage and into the length that only a guy with the kind of presence Zane had could make work. There were a couple of pictures of Zane floating around in his apartment, college-era vintage, where he had hair down to his ass and a goatee that went surprisingly well with his tie-dyed T-shirts and stonewashed jeans.

Eli could wish he'd known Zane back then, except that if they'd met, he'd have probably been there to arrest him. Zane had known how to sow his wild oats. He wondered how long that stage had lasted.

Zane rubbed his chin, the fine layer of stubble, just dark enough to be visible, rasping against his palm. “Remember you said you'd hear me out. I'm holding you to that.”

“Now I really don't like the sound of this. But yes, I promised.” Zane didn't make a habit out of leading Eli astray. Might be an interesting ride, but they got where they were headed in the end. Usually.

“Here's what I figure. We're science brained.” Zane twirled his finger by his temple. “A good doctor is also a cynic. We require proof before conclusions. Shouldn't be too hard.”

“And exactly how do we get this proof?” Eli crossed his arms, and his legs at the ankle.

“Let me kiss you.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Eli, hear me out.” Zane came closer. Not that they didn't invade one another's personal space as a matter of course, but there was a certain intent to his moves now that made Eli go very still. “It makes sense.”

“From an unbiased perspective? Yes. Doesn't mean I want to kiss you.”

“What if I want to kiss you?” Zane laughed at Eli when he gaped. “For proof, you big dumb ox. We try it. It's terrible. A sloppy mess. Then we can present them with the evidence and that ought to do the trick.”

“This is Diana and Holly we're talking about here. They'd want photographs. Video.”

“Diana might. Holly will take us at our word, and she'll work Diana over if she's convinced. Besides, do you really want pictures floating around?”

“Good point.”

Zane, Eli couldn't help but notice, hadn't stopped his slow but steady forward progress, way past even a friend's boundaries of personal space. They were a hairbreadth away from touching chest to chest now, and Eli could smell the light crispness of Zane's cologne. Maybe that was what made him slightly breathless.

“Details are important.” Eli kept his hands tucked firmly under his arms. They twitched, wanting to—what? Reach out and touch someone? This wasn't him. SUV or not, they were in public, for Christ's sake. He'd had a hard enough time kissing his wife. Just wasn't anyone's business but his own.

Then again, this was Zane, who let it all hang out, so much so that Eli sometimes wondered if he had anything left inside.

Nevertheless, Zane was a guy, and this wasn't ground Eli had trod before. Understandable that it'd put a man on edge, right? Maybe. Maybe not quite as much an excuse for making him light-headed and torn between
yes
and
no
.

Zane seemed to know exactly what Eli was thinking. He had a way of doing that. Mind reading, or he just knew Eli that well. No telling which, sometimes. “It's me, Eli. You trust me, right?”

Only one answer for that. “I do.”

“Then let me take over here. I've got it under control. One kiss and we're done with this nonsense for good. Do it for me, okay?” Zane was suddenly touching Eli's face again, a different experience this time. Though his hands were still cool and soothing, they lingered instead of briskly checked, and the feel of them made a knot thicken in Eli's throat.

“I still don't think it's a good idea.”

“Noted. Now shut up,” Zane said and kissed him.

Eli kept his eyes open, stunned into immobility. He'd thought a
peck
, not—whatever this was. Zane's lips were soft and insistent, and dear God, was that a flicker of tongue tickling at the closed seam of Eli's lips?

At first, the kiss was every bit as bad as Eli had predicted. Both he and Zane were used to being the dominant, the one who called the shots. They both zigged when one should have zagged, both pushed forward when one should have given way, and the sensation of rasping stubble made the experience surreal.

But then…then Zane sighed, a whisper of breath, and the kiss grew slower, softer, deeper. Zane tilted his head just—
so
—and then it was the most natural thing in the world for Eli to thread his fingers through Zane's hair and pull him closer. For Eli to rest his hand at the small of Zane's back and anchor him there. To slide his tongue between Zane's lips and stroke. He tasted of coffee and cherry jam and something different, something completely unlike kissing a woman and maddeningly enticing.

The cigarette dropped unlit, forgotten, to the pristine gravel beneath their feet.

Eli had never kissed anyone who kept their eyes open too, and once he and Zane had locked stares, Eli couldn't look away. He was drowning in clear, shocked gray and didn't surface when they parted, breathing shallowly through their mouths. Zane stayed otherwise put. So did Eli. More than his lips had reacted to that kiss, and if Zane moved one fraction of an inch closer, he'd know more than Eli wanted him to.

My God. This was supposed to put an end to the whole question. Not raise a hundred more.

Guess he never was too old to be surprised by life, was he?

* * * * *

Men were not the greatest of communicators. Eli would be the first to own up to that. Especially him. Sometimes men didn't talk because they didn't want to. Sometimes because they had no idea which words they could possibly use after what he'd just done. They'd done. Jesus.

“So…that happened,” he said and immediately wanted to kick himself.
Smooth, Eli. Smooth like glass.

Zane's breath was warm on Eli's lips, his gaze stunned, and his fingertips trailing over Eli's jaw. “My God.”

“Yeah. Him. Allah, Buddha, Vishnu, and Ganesha too.” Eli stepped back, out of immediate reach. Funny how it didn't seem to help ease the tightening panic in his chest. “I should go.”

“What?” Zane switched to fingering his own lips. The movement drew Eli's eye to kiss-swollen firmness and the faint strawberry hue of light beard burn.

Right. That, Eli couldn't take. He made himself turn his back. “I'll see you later.”

He'd hoped Zane would linger in his daze for a while. Often happened that way when something had his attention by the short hairs. As luck would have it, not so much now. “Do you really think walking away is the way we should go here? Give me a break, Eli. We're friends. It'll be fine.”

“What else should we do?” Eli couldn't keep his back to Zane. Honor demanded he at least face the guy. “What the hell are you smirking at?”

Ungenerous. Zane wasn't smirking but smiling. Grinning. Amused. “It bothers you that much, kissing me and liking it? Because in case you missed it, you weren't alone there.”