The Trouble With Tony (12 page)

There was a knock on the door. Jack came to his senses and broke away, panting. “Oh my God! Oh shit, I shouldn’t have done that.”

“I want you,” Tony said desperately, trying to pull Jack back into his arms. “You know I don’t feel that way about just anyone, or hardly anyone. Please, Jack. Go out with me. Let’s get to know each other outside this place. Give us a chance.”

Jack yanked free. “There is no ‘us.’ I’m your doctor!” It came out harsher than Jack intended, his own raging conflict feeding his anger and frustration.

Michael opened the door. He looked at Jack and then at Tony, standing a foot or so apart. He raised his eyebrows with a smirk.

Jack tried to collect himself. “Um… Tony, this is Michael Lamont, one of our highly valued surrogates. Michael, this is Tony.”

“Hi, Tony,” Michael said with a sweet smile.

“Yeah, nice to meet you,” Tony said gruffly. “Nothing personal, kid, but I won’t be needing a surrogate.” He gave Jack a wounded look, something on the order of,
How could you
? and stalked out.

Jack managed to bite back a groan of frustration.

Michael sniffed the air. “What’s that I smell? Oh yum. Sexual tension.” He winked, licked his finger, and planted it in the air with a sizzle sound.

“Oh fuck me,” Jack said, burying his face in his hands.

~18~

J
ACK
was still thinking about Tony when he left work that night. He was the last to leave the clinic, and he was distracted as he locked up.

What was he going to do? Tony seemed to be sincere about wanting to date him. But was it just a temporary case of doctor-patient transference? Would Tony have been attracted to Jack if they met elsewhere?

Tony had his diagnosis. He could either leave therapy or Jack could refer him to another doctor. Maybe Trudy would take him. And then…. Would Tony be willing to wait a number of months before pursuing this? Would Jack?

As he was approaching his car, Jack had so much on his mind that it took him several moments to notice the bundle of clothes on the ground. It took a second longer to realize it was a person.

Loretta.

Jack’s first thought was
heart attack
. His fingers punched nine-one-one on his cellphone as he ran to Loretta’s side. He dropped to his knees, feeling for a pulse on the unconscious woman’s neck.

“Two-two-one Pike,” he said into the phone. “We need an ambulance.”

He realized his mistake a moment later when he heard a noise behind him. He turned to see a man standing there with a baseball bat.

“You fucked my wife. Now you’re going to die.” The man swung the bat.

Jack ducked and rolled.

T
ONY
had to talk to Jack, make him see reason, but he couldn’t do it at the clinic. Inside his office, Jack was all doctor. It would be better to confront him at his home, where there was less of a patient-doctor barrier. And where, if Tony was being honest, he might kiss Jack again, and Jack might respond as he had this afternoon—dear God, that had been the hottest kiss of Tony’s entire freaking life. There would be nothing to interrupt them there.

He knew it was stalker behavior, but hell, there had to be some benefit to being a private eye. He watched from down the street as Jack locked up and walked around the side of the building. He waited for Jack to pull his car out of the parking lot so he could follow. He didn’t.

Tony started to get an itchy feeling. Something wasn’t right. He got out of his car and walked toward the alley. His ears picked up a faint shout. He began to run.

Tony burst into the alley and was greeted by a terrifying sight: Jack Halloran and Brent White locked in battle. Brent had a baseball bat and four inches on the doctor. Nevertheless, Jack looked calm, his face set in deadly and fearless resolve. Brent was trying to back Jack into a wall. Jack risked a glance behind him.

Brent took the distraction as an opening for attack. Tony screamed a warning and began to run as the large man drew the bat back. But Jack’s movement had been a ruse. As Brent drew the weapon back, Jack was already diving forward, bent low. He plowed into Brent’s stomach with his head while sending a hard fist into Brent’s groin.

Brent gave a short
oof
of pain and fell to the ground. Jack was on him, punching. He was like a terrier, ferocious and deadly. He gave Brent three solid body blows and then flipped him. Jack straddled his back and got his neck in a headlock.

Tony just stood there, dumbfounded.

Jack glanced up at him. “Are you going to do something?” Jack panted.

Tony blinked and pulled out his gun.

Jack just looked up at him like he was stupid. “Call the police perhaps?” he gritted out.

“Right.” Tony put the gun away and dialed the cops. He asked them to notify Detective Mark Woodson. As Tony hung up, he heard sirens. “That was fast.”

“I called for an ambulance. Loretta is over there. Show them where she is, please.”

It was amazing how perfectly in control Jack sounded, even as his face was red from exertion and Brent was making choking sounds under his arm, flailing weakly.

Tony ran out to flag down the ambulance.

Fifteen minutes later, Loretta was stabilized and on her way to the hospital. It appeared that Brent had knocked her out with the bat, but hadn’t swung hard enough to do any serious damage. Jack looked her over and said she didn’t even appear to have a concussion. Brent White was being shoved into a police car. He never looked up.

Mark Woodson stood with Tony and Jack, watching.

“I have no idea who that guy is,” Jack said. “He said I fucked his wife. Unless I have a multiple personality disorder that I’m unaware of, he’s wrong.”

“It’s Brent White, Marilyn White’s husband,” Tony said quietly.

Jack looked at him. He blinked twice, his face closing off. “How do you know that?”

Tony knew he was probably about to blow it, but the look on Jack’s face—he just couldn’t lie. “I’m a private detective. I was hired by Marilyn’s parents to investigate her death.”

Jack just stared at him, his eyes steely and his jaw set.

Mark cleared his throat. “Well… glad you escaped unharmed, Dr. Halloran. Guess I’d better get this guy down to the station. You coming?” He looked at Tony.

Tony shook his head. His eyes never left Jack’s. “Tell him you found Amoxapine in the soil by the dead rose bush. He’ll confess.”

“Sure,” Mark said dryly. “Ah… did we?”

“It’s in the lab. But it’ll be there.”

“Aces. I’ll let you know how that goes then, shall I?” Mark said sarcastically. Mark watched Tony and Jack stare at each other for a moment longer then shook his head. “Don’t mind me. I’m just the fucking police detective.” With a
hrmph
, he walked toward the cruiser and got in. It pulled out, and Jack and Tony were alone.

“You were so bad ass,” Tony said, his voice low and dark.

“Don’t change the subject,” Jack said, but his steely gaze softened just a bit.

“You were. Did they teach you that shit in the Army?”

Jack pursed his lips. “I was gay and working on the front lines. I figured some hand-to-hand would come in handy, yeah.” He folded his arms and waited.

Tony swallowed. “Okay. So here it is. When I first came to see you, it was part of my investigation into Marilyn’s murder. You were a suspect. That’s why I made up the whole sex addict thing. But then… everything I told you about my picky dick problem—that was true. And what I said, about you being number five, that’s true too. I swear on my mother’s grave.”

Jack studied his face, giving nothing away. “So you’re saying that you lied to me from the very start? You were my patient under false pretenses?”

Tony felt his stomach knot with fear. He pleaded with his eyes. “Yeah. But I—”

“Thank God!” Jack lunged for Tony, grabbed him by the lapels, and crushed their mouths together.

Tony groaned. He grabbed Jack’s face in both hands and eased the kiss so that he could suck and nibble feverishly at Jack’s lips and jaw. Jack made a tiny mewling sound. His arms went around Tony’s waist and pulled him tight. He felt the doctor’s full length against him, chest to thigh. Jack’s erection aggressively rubbed Tony’s hip, sending signals to his brain that had a lot to do with sinking to his knees right there and then, and very little to do with avoiding a ticket for public indecency. Tony pressed his answer into Halloran’s belly.

Then he remembered he wanted more from Halloran than a quick grope.

“Jack,” Tony panted. “Wait.” He forced himself to push back. He put his hands on Jack’s shoulders, keeping space between them. “This isn’t just sex for me. I want to go out with you, get to know you. I like you. I wanna do this right.”

Jack’s serious face blinked up at him. He swallowed, catching his breath. “Good. Right. Right. Me too.” They stood there staring at each other. Jack’s eyes were dark with passion and they suddenly got a wicked little gleam. His mouth quirked up. “Does that mean I can’t fuck your brains out right now?” He ran a finger down Tony’s chest.

Tony’s dick throbbed, delirious.

“Oh God. Okay, yeah.” He pulled Jack back into a deep and erotic kiss. “Ya try to do the right thing, and where does it get you?”

Jack chuckled. “It was a lovely thought. But in my medical opinion, we’re both long overdue for some hallelujah time. My place or yours? My car’s right here.”

Tony glanced behind him at the clinic. “Well, um, I was thinking….” He kissed down Jack’s neck.

Jack groaned and squirmed. “Yes?”

Tony licked Jack’s ear, then spoke low and dirty into it. “I was thinking about those stirrup thingies, and how I’d really love to have you in those, and about all the things I wanted to do to you while you were in them.”

Jack seemed to stop breathing for a moment. “Oh
fuck
,” he breathed. “Yeah. Clinic.”

~19~

J
ACK
knew he should have taken Tony at his word, backed off, gone out on a few dates before thrusting himself, literally and figuratively, into the Italian’s bed—the Italian
PI’s
bed, he corrected himself.

But Jack had lost his taste for games and niceties and running around what he really wanted like a nebbish maiden. He’d lost those things in the war, long before he lost his ability to perform delicate surgery.

Tony felt right. He’d started to feel right even when Jack thought he shouldn’t, and now that Tony’s deceit had managed to push the whole ethics issue off the table, Jack could acknowledge the truth. Tony felt like exactly the right finger in the right hole in the dam that was Jack’s psyche. And Jack knew all too well how rarely “right” came along to lose out on his chance to grab it.

They entered the darkened clinic, and he locked the door behind them. He paused.

“I should call Trudy,” Jack said, “Tell her about Loretta.”

Tony swallowed. “I need to call the Whites. Tell them about Brent.”

They parted reluctantly to make their respective calls. Jack went into his office.

Trudy was shocked at the news and determined to drive right to the hospital to see Loretta. Jack promised her the clinic was undamaged and that he’d close up for the night. He didn’t mention that it might take him awhile.

He was just ringing off when he felt strong arms around his waist. Tony pressed into him from behind. For a moment, Jack just gave in to the feeling of being held against a warm, welcoming body. Tony smelled like the outdoors, fresh and free of smoke and blood and the pungent scents of a hospital. Jack closed his eyes and let himself slide into that open, pain-free space.

“Everything all right?” Tony asked. He kissed Jack’s neck, and Jack felt a renewed trickle of desire slide down his spine.

“Yes. Trudy’s going to go see Loretta in the hospital. I’ll probably go over there later, too.”

“Hmmm.”

“How did the Whites take it?”

Tony hesitated. “I think they already suspected Brent, but it’s still hard to hear. There was some crying. But they’re relieved to know the truth.”

“I liked Marilyn a lot,” Jack said simply.

“Yeah.”

Tony pulled him tighter, tight enough that Jack could feel how hard he was. The slow burn in Jack’s groin quickened, but for the moment, he didn’t feel in a hurry to address it. It felt perfect just to be wrapped in Tony’s arms.

“I like
you
,” Tony said softly. “I can’t believe I’m touching you. I’ve been wanting to for a while.”

“You have?”

“Yeah. You became my number five the day you did the prostate exam. Remember that?”

Jack chuckled in surprise. “Is that why you ran out of here so fast? That’s a first. Most men hate it.”

“It wasn’t the exam, it was you. I like how tough you are, how smart. I like the way you forced me to be real. And when I make you smile? It’s like the heavens open and angels are singing on a fucking light beam.”

Jack smiled but he felt a pulse of sadness. “I wish you’d known me before. I’m no prize now. I got kicked pretty hard to the curb.”

“Screw that. If you were any more perfect, it would kill me. Anyway, maybe now a schmoe like me actually has a chance with a guy like you.”

Jack wanted to argue that Tony was hardly a schmoe. He was younger than Jack, good-looking, and funny. And, most importantly, he was still relatively whole. But Jack would probably just end up sounding bitter, and there were better ways to get his point across.

Jack pulled Tony’s arms tighter and pressed back into his erection, rubbing it against the top of his ass. “Jesus, you’re hard,” he said, impressed.

“I told you, Doc, when it’s on, it’s on.” Tony nibbled at Jack’s ear, his low voice rumbling through Jack’s body. “And
you
make it come on like Con-Ed.”

Jack closed his eyes and let his body remember the easy sensuality he’d once taken for granted. He continued to rock against Tony, firm but slow, and he tilted his head back on Tony’s shoulder, asking silently for a kiss.

Tony gave it, sweet and warm, tasting vaguely of coffee and a hint of the enticing marinara smell Jack remembered from that first physical exam. Jack circled one arm up to hold Tony’s neck. As if taking advantage of the open space, Tony slid one hand down, with agonizing stealth, to cup Jack’s erection with a large palm.