Only You (10 page)

“Yes,” Nick said, words spilling out of him. He shuddered and groaned as he came a second time, a deep ache emptying itself out. “Oh, God, yes. Go on, Barrett. Go on. Want it, want
you
.”

Above him, Barrett froze in place, hand and hips still as marble for the longest breath then shaking, shaking as if he were seizing. Coming inside him and—and—

And putting his mouth to Nick’s throat. To the side of his neck. Teeth sharp on his skin, prickling a warning.

They shouldn’t. If they were wrong, and they had to explain that bite to a stranger—

Nick didn’t care. Wouldn’t care. He put his hand to the back of Barrett’s head and pushed down hard. “Do it,” he ordered.

And Barrett did.

Barrett came out of the red fog that’d clouded his mind only a fraction at a time. He licked his lips, his teeth, and tasted a faint hint of sweet copper.

“Don’t,” Nick said, a dark warm shape beneath him. “I asked for it, so don’t you say you’re sorry.” Hands pressed to his back, gliding slick and rough across his skin. “I wanted it.”

Words wouldn’t come. Barrett bent his head to steal one more kiss. The back of his neck burned, scorching him, and if he couldn’t get some relief soon he’d lose his mind. He pressed his own knuckles against it, buried his head in Nick’s chest, and choked down a frustrated shout.

Nick didn’t let go. And yet…and yet, he slowed down. Telegraphed his moves, muscle by muscle, moving to cover Barrett’s hand with his own—then, to nudge Barrett’s hand out of the way.

It couldn’t be. He told himself that over and over again. They couldn’t be that lucky, Barrett wanted to argue, but he
wanted
it so.

“Don’t,” he said, trying to knock Nick’s hand out of the way. “Don’t make this any harder.”

“I won’t. I’m not,” Nick said. “But, Barrett…what if it is you? What if it’s me? Twice.” He tapped Barrett’s temple with his thumb. “Twice. It might mean something, Barrett. It
might
. And the bite. You wouldn’t have done that if you…you wouldn’t even have wanted to, Barrett.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I know you.”

Barrett shut his eyes again and pressed his forehead tight to Nick’s chest. Hope clawed at him, cruel and cunning, but if there was a chance…and maybe, maybe, there might just be a chance after all.

And all the while, Nick waited for him to speak.

“You look,” Barrett said next to Nick’s breastbone. “Get it done. Get it over with. I can’t do it. You look.”

“All right. All right,” Nick soothed. He carded rough fingertips through Barrett’s short hair and guided him as best he could with nothing but his body, off and down, lying on his stomach. “I’m going to turn on the lamp. Okay?”

Barrett closed his eyes against the
click
of the switch. He crossed his arms beneath his chin and arched his neck at Nick’s light touches of direction.
Please
, he chanted silently to himself.
Just this once, let us beat the odds. Please
.

Nick straddled Barrett’s waist, a warm and familiar weight, everything he did as clearly visualized as if Barrett were watching him. Now he was moving the lamp and tilting the shade, now sitting back to take one last look before he
looked
. Now—

A faint, faint touch to the back of his neck. Whisper-soft, circling his soulmark.

Sweet, sweet surcease at his touch. Snow on a burn. Cream on a dry tongue.

Barrett knotted his fists tight and waited. Waited.

Waited.

He jolted when Nick slid down his body, heavy atop him, his lips suddenly there and warm at Barrett’s ear. “I love you,” he said. “Now and always.”

Barrett didn’t know what he meant by that. He knew what he wanted, but not what was fact, and he’d opened his mouth to say so—to beg, if he had to—

“Meant to be,” Nick said, simple and plain. Ragged with exhaustion. Rough with relief. Raw with triumph. He almost glowed in Barrett’s eyes, alight with happiness. “You dawdling bastard—thank God you caught up at last.”

A burst of joy kindled ablaze in Barrett’s heart and head. He reached back, scrabbling for Nick’s head, and wound his fingers in Nick’s hair. He breathed in, and out, and let himself go with the rush.
Thank God. Oh, thank God.

He knew what Nick wanted, and he wanted to give it. He tipped his head to one side and parted his lips. “Your turn, now. Only you.”

“Too damned right,” Nick said. He set his teeth to Barrett’s throat and bit.

Chapter Seven

“I’m moving in.”

Nick looked up from his low crouch on the floor beneath the pool table, finished at last. He’d rescued all but one of the balls Robbie’s brother Cade had accidentally sent flying with an over-enthusiastic break. “You’re moving in with Ivan?”

Robbie chuffed a quiet laugh. “Yes, actually. We decided a few days ago, but that’s not what I meant.” He gestured at the pool table, using his cue stick as a pointer. “That was me trying to tell you I liked your house. You’ve made a good home here.”

Still in his crouch, Nick cast his gaze around the four walls. Normally cozy with two, and packed to the gills tonight with friends and family. They had done a damned fine job, if he said so himself.

‘Course, it wouldn’t be home if Barrett wasn’t in it. Nick lingered on his soulmate holding court in the kitchen, pouring drinks and warning Abram away from poking at vegetables set out to chop.

Barrett must have felt his regard. He glanced up, and though he didn’t wave or call out, he winked, and that was as good as a long-distance kiss.

Robbie watched them, silent but with a hint of a smile showing in his beard.

“We’re happy here. Mind you, there was a time…” Nick spotted the nine-ball under the table leg nearest Robbie. “Aha, found the little devil. Lend a hand?”

“Sure, no problem.” Robbie scooped up the ball and rolled it across the green felt to Nick, who slotted it into place in the rack. “Stripes, solids, or break?”

“It’s just for fun. Might as well call it when we break it.” Nick took up his cue and twirled it. “Guests first.”

“What about handy helpers?” Barrett enveloped him from behind.

Nick leaned into the warm, sturdy arms and breathed deep. Barrett smelled of baking bread, of crisp apples and of late spring rain. “Gave up on Abram?”

“Hopeless case, that one. Might as well let him have his fun. He can’t do that much damage chopping peppers and onions, can he?” Barrett pressed a frosty bottle of beer into Nick’s hand. “Besides, I got bored.”

“Bored with seven people running around, up to no good, including you and me?”

Barrett shrugged comfortably. “I teach elementary school. Keeping up with seven is like taking a vacation.”

True enough, Nick had to admit. He cast a wary eye at Abram, who wielded Barrett’s chopping knife with far more enthusiasm than skill, and decided to let it go. So they’d have oddly shaped pepper chunks in with their potatoes. Hardly a big deal.

Food was food. It was company that made all the difference. He hummed and leaned back against Barrett, idly stroking his wrist. He could feel Barrett’s warm breath on the faint bite scar on the side of his neck. His hair concealed the mark, more or less. Barrett’s didn’t. They wore watches now, thick and chunky, instead of their cuffs.

No one said anything. Maybe they had all known, after all. It wouldn’t have surprised Nick. Honestly, nothing would at this point. In the end, he had Barrett for keeps, and Barrett had him. They’d registered their marks, and had their status changed.

Soulmate.
My soulmate.
Nick laughed as Barrett nuzzled his neck, and pretended an indignant yelp when Barrett followed that up with a pinch to his ass.

“Hands to yourselves, boys,” Ivan said, ambling over with a beer in each hand. He uncapped them with quick, neat twists then passed one to Robbie, who didn’t seem bothered by the lack of game in progress, but settled contentedly in at Ivan’s side instead. “Stripes or solids?”

“No idea,” Robbie said, resting his head against Ivan’s. “I’ll let you know when I find out.”

Nick glanced backward at Barrett. “Any chance you’ll let me go so I can break? There’s not much point in spending all that time wrestling with getting the thing together if we don’t put it to use.”

“Don’t tell, but we’ve made perfectly good use of it so far,” Barrett said in a stage whisper, favoring Ivan and Robbie with a wicked twinkle. “Even if this would be the first actual game of
pool
played here.”

Ivan groaned. Robbie didn’t bat an eyelash. “I call stripes, then. You’ve met my brother. Takes more than that to throw me.”

“Remind me not to get on your bad side,” Barrett said, sounding impressed. Nick nudged his elbow lightly into Barrett. Barrett pretended to ignore it, while under the table he stroked Nick’s hip. “Your brother sounds like an interesting sort of guy.”

Robbie winced. “That’s one word for it.”

Nick would have liked to stay and listen—nothing like getting the dirt dished out for free—but a flash of light outside caught his attention. He unwound Barrett’s arms and thumped him on the shoulder. “Keep that warm for me. I’ll be right back.”

“Everything all right?”

“As far as I can tell,” Nick said. He kept track of the light and movement outside. No, he hadn’t been mistaken. He nodded at the window to direct Barrett’s focus. “Just curious.”

“You think Daniel’s off?” Barrett asked in Nick’s ear, no projecting his voice this time.

“Maybe. I’ll never know unless I ask.”

“Nosy.”

“Concerned,” Nick said in mild protest. “And a friend. I won’t know the answer unless I ask the question.”

Barrett pretended to cluck his tongue at Nick, but let him go. “Give him my best, too, if he really is heading out.”

Going to see was a thing easier said than done, as crowded as the small cottage was at the moment. Nick had to wind a path around through the kitchen to exit through the back door. He bumped shoulders with Abram as he went. Abram beamed at him, which gave Nick the oddest feeling that if the big man hadn’t been wrist-deep in haphazardly if enthusiastically chopped peppers, he’d have grabbed him up in a bear hug.

“What’s that grin for?” he asked, pretending skepticism.

“It makes me happy to see my friends happy,” Abram said. He pretended to look down his nose at Nick, but spoiled the effect with a wink. “Well done. Nice watch, by the way.”

Which would answer that question, wouldn’t it? Well, so be it. Nick didn’t mind. He raised his watch face-out at Abram in a sort of response. Abram waved him off—thankfully, not with the hand holding a chef’s knife—and turned back to his conversation with Robbie’s youngest brother Nathaniel, who hung back and watched the chaos with wide eyes and a tiny, cute smile.

Nick glanced back over his shoulder at the pair of them.
Huh.
If he hadn’t known for absolute sure Abram was a widower, he’d have wondered about how close they stood…

Nah.

Good thing he’d started when he did. Nick crunched over the new growth of grass in their yard to his side of the stone wall and made his goal just in time. Daniel nearly had his truck packed, and he carried a duffel over one shoulder as he locked his front door. “Leaving without saying goodbye?”

Daniel didn’t flinch, but he did cut Nick a sharp look that softened sheepishly. He gave his doorknob a tug to double-check he’d finished locking up. “You looked busy. I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“It’s not interrupting when you know you’d have been welcome,” Nick said. He should have asked, but Daniel had kept his distance over the past couple of weeks. He and Barrett had let it happen. Barrett had told him enough to fill him in, and God, but his heart went out to the guy. “Still not too late. We haven’t started eating yet.”

Daniel nipped thoughtfully at his lower lip, then shook his head. “I’ve got a lead on a job in Folly’s Bow not far from where he…well. Where he must have made a home for himself. If I drive all night, I’ll make it there in time to put down temporary stakes tomorrow morning.”

“Fair enough.” Nick tucked his hands into his pockets to keep them warm. He no longer had the urge to rub and fret at his soulmark, but times like this reminded him a little too clearly still. “Does he know you’re—?”

“No,” Daniel said, cutting him off. “I need to get a read on things first. He might have a reason for not wanting to get in touch.”

“And if he does?”

Daniel tossed his duffel through the passenger-side window of his truck and rolled his shoulder to stretch the muscle. Must have been heavy, but that was very like Daniel. Always picking up the heavy loads.

“Then I’ll deal with that when it comes,” Daniel said. He scratched lightly at the side of his wrist. “At least I’ll know. It’s always better to know.”

No denying that
. “He’d better appreciate you when you find him,” Nick said. “Or I’ll have to have some words with him.”

Daniel gave one of his rare chuckles, crisp and clean. “That’d be interesting, wouldn’t it?”

“And then some.” Nick held out one hand, glad when Daniel took it and gave it a shake. “Take care of yourself. Let us know how it goes.”

Daniel’s hand was warm and dry and sturdy. A good man’s hand. “Either way, you’ll be the first to know.”

Nick stayed to watch Daniel back out of his driveway, and lingered on after his tail lights faded out of sight around the bend. Longer than he’d meant to loiter. Long enough that, sometime later, Barrett came to find him. He didn’t wrap Nick up in a backwards hug as before, but settled in at Nick’s side instead, one arm around his shoulders. He brushed his mouth across the soulmark at Nick’s nape and blew a quiet breath over the slight moisture left there from his kiss.

Nick shivered, the chill going straight in and down deep, becoming a ripple of pleasure by the time it reached points south. “You’re way too good at that already.”

“I’ve had years to dream and plan. Try to stop me from living the fantasy now.”

“
Not
likely,” Nick replied. He reached across and around, barely able at the awkward angle to tickle Barrett’s nape, but he made his point perfectly well.