Valor on the Move (11 page)

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Authors: Keira Andrews

Tags: #gay, #mm, #romance

BOOK: Valor on the Move
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Shane faced Rafa again, and his brows drew together. “You don’t worry?”

“Huh? About what?” Rafa picked up another stone.

“About being apart for months. Pretty girl like that in Paris with all those French guys?”

Tossing the stone, Rafa laughed. “Nope. Frenchmen are wasted on Ashleigh. Now French—” He bit off the
women
just in time. Keeping his gaze on the river, Rafa laughed again, a reedy sound this time. “Um, French pastries are more her indulgence. She’d never cheat. No worries.”

“Hmm. Glad to hear it.” Shane’s voice was even, but did he sound a little…skeptical? Suspicious?

He’s gay too. He’d understand. Maybe I should just tell him the truth. Maybe he’d even…

Shaking his head, Rafa grabbed another stone from near his feet and launched it. Maybe Shane would what? Like him back? It was crazy to even fantasize about it. But he couldn’t deny that it would be wonderful to be out to a man he could trust. Not that Ashleigh wasn’t understanding, but sometimes he really wanted to talk to another guy.

He went to the pack and pulled out the thermos of cold water. He gulped some down and offered it to Shane, who eyed the bottle. Rafa flushed. “Oh, sorry. I forgot cups. Shit.”

“It’s fine.” Shane’s fingers brushed Rafa’s as he took the thermos. “Thanks.”

Rafa watched Shane’s throat work as he swallowed, and heat shot through him. Ducking his head, he busied himself with the food. “I made sandwiches and stuff. Nothing fancy. You probably don’t even want one.”

“You brought food?” Shane smiled. “Of course I want some.”

“You do? Cool. Um, here.” He thrust up one of the foil-wrapped sandwiches.

After he took it, Shane glanced around again. “Thanks.”

Rafa sat on a flat rock by the water’s edge. “Why don’t you sit?”

Shane shook his head before taking a bite. He moaned softly, and Rafa dug his nails into his palm. “Damn. This is amazing. Did you make the bread?”

He couldn’t help but beam a bit. “Yeah, earlier this evening. It was still a little warm when I wrapped up the sandwiches.”

“Mayo too?” Shane glanced left and right.

“Yep. I didn’t make the beef, though. Or the provolone.”

Shane smiled, his cheeks creasing. “Would be a challenge to make a cow.” He peered into the trees again.

“It’s seriously fine. There’s no one out there.”

Shane peered down at him. “Those are what we call famous last words, Rafa.”

Hearing Shane say his name gave him a highly inappropriate thrill. “Good point.” He got to his feet so Shane wasn’t looming over him. “There are some cookies too. Peanut butter snickerdoodles. Oh, I should have asked if you have allergies.”

“I don’t. Love peanut butter.” Shane took another bite of his sandwich. When he swallowed, he asked, “So why are we here in the middle of the night?”

Because I wanted to go somewhere it was just the two of us for miles.
Rafa shrugged. “I like this spot. I thought it would be pretty with the moon. Guess I’m getting a little stir crazy at home. Probably because it’s not really a
home
. Even with the third floor to myself, staff still come up there. You’re never really alone in the White House.”

Shane watched him with an intense gaze. “You’re not alone here either.”

“I know, but it’s different with you.”

“Different how?” Shane still watched him.

Rafa grabbed the thermos off the ground and took a drink. “I dunno. You’re cool or whatever.” He put down the thermos and the rest of his sandwich before stepping up on a rock right by the water’s edge. “It’s peaceful here. I love water.”

“Don’t get too close.”

Rafa rolled his eyes. “I’m not going to fall in.”

“Let’s not make those famous last words either.”

“I know you wouldn’t let me fall.” As the quiet words left his mouth, Rafa’s smile faded, and the air suddenly felt electric. The river hummed, and Shane watched him, his half-eaten sandwich still in his hand.

To break the strange tension, Rafa forced a laugh and went right to the very edge and stood on one foot. “Not even if I did this. Or—”

Rafa swung his arms to keep his balance as the traitorous rock shifted beneath him, but in a blink he was in the water, the cold stealing the air from his lungs as his ass hit the rocky bottom and the current tugged hard at him. Then Shane was there hauling him up, his hands gripping Rafa’s upper arms.

Blinking, Rafa looked at Shane, and then down at where the water rushed around their knees. Lifting his head, he met Shane’s gaze, and after a frozen moment, they burst out laughing.

“I think I’m okay.” Rafa snickered. “I can just…you know. Stand up.”

His shoulders shaking, Shane still gripped Rafa’s arms. “I told you not to get too close.”

“You did. You totally, explicitly told me so.” He tried to stop laughing, but standing there with the water flowing around their knees, it was all just so silly.

But then Shane tugged him forward and wrapped his arms around Rafa’s back, and a giggle died in Rafa’s throat as he held his breath. His arms were pinned at his sides, and Shane…Shane was
hugging
him.

“I’ve got you,” Shane murmured.

He was warm and big, and Rafa’s face was at the collar of Shane’s shirt. If he turned his head he’d be pressing against Shane’s skin, and—

Jerking back, Shane stumbled on the rocks, managing to catch his balance as he reached solid ground. His gaze darted around, and he ran a hand over his shorn hair. “I… We’d better get back. You’ll catch a cold.”

Rafa’s pulse rushed in his ears over the sound of the water.
What just happened? Did he…why did he do that? Does he…? No. It’s impossible. Shut up.
Rafa carefully climbed back up on the rock. He unzipped his sodden hoodie and wrung it out. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… Sorry.”

Shane’s voice was strained. “It was an accident. Come on.”

Rafa quickly packed up the thermos and their abandoned half sandwiches and hurried to the vehicle. Inside, Shane turned on the engine and adjusted the heat.

Rafa pulled his panic button from his pocket. “Um, do these still work if they get wet?”

Shane glanced over. “Yes. Don’t worry.”

“I’m not worried. You’re here, so…”

Silently, Shane shimmied out of his jacket and rolled up his white shirt sleeves. Leaning over, he brushed against Rafa as he turned on the vents. It was lukewarm air as the engine warmed.

Rafa’s throat was dry as he shivered. “Did you…are you very wet? I’m so sorry. Are you going to have to stay in a damp suit all night?”

“It’s fine. I got splashed, but it’s mostly just my legs.”

Rafa reached out and ran his hand over Shane’s damp forearm, as if he could dry him off. “I’m sorry.” He stopped moving his hand, and it rested on Shane’s arm.
What are you doing? Stop touching him!
But Rafa didn’t budge. He could feel damp hair under his palm, and barely resisted the urge to roll the hair between his fingertips.

Shane stared at Rafa’s hand on his arm, and his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. When he lifted his gaze, it was so dark and intense that a breathless shiver spun through Rafa.

Then Shane moved, putting the Suburban in drive, and Rafa yanked his hand back to his lap. He cleared his throat, praying he could speak without squeaking.

“And your shoes. Ugh, wet socks and shoes are the worst. And they’re leather too. I’ll replace them.”

“They’ll dry. It’s fine, Rafa.” Shane kept his eyes on the deserted road as they wound through the trees, but his face softened into an almost-smile. “As long as you’re okay, everything’s good.”

He knew it was Shane’s job. He knew Shane didn’t mean anything more than that. But it still made Rafa warm from the inside out.

Chapter Eight
 

At the foot of the stairs, Shane checked his watch. Eleven fifty-nine.

He held his walkie to his mouth for his report. “Checking in. Valor secure. Over and out.”

The radio crackled. “Ten-four.”

Aside from the one night by the river—which Shane tried very hard not to think about—it had been four nights now that he’d slipped up to the third floor at midnight to eat Rafa’s creations and linger far too long listening to the kid talk.

Rafa.

He should think of him as Valor or Rafael, but the nickname always came to mind first now. Which was fine—most everyone called Valor that. But it wasn’t his role to be spending this much time with his protectee up in that kitchen.

And it definitely wasn’t his role to be
hugging
him. Even if he’d been ridiculously relieved that Rafa was okay after he’d toppled off the rock.
Of course I was relieved. Keeping him in one piece is my damn job. That’s all it was.
Yet it had felt alarmingly natural as they’d laughed to wrap Rafa in his arms.

He sighed. Good thing he had the next day off before rotating to the day shift. Alan would be back too, and things would return to normal.

But Shane couldn’t stop the pang that echoed through him at the idea of not spending time with Rafa alone anymore. He’d really enjoyed their late-night talks and tasting sessions.
Maybe a little too much.

Not that anything had
happened
, but girlfriend or not, there was no question in Shane’s mind now that Rafael Castillo was gay, or at least bi. The desire practically came off the kid in waves. Shane should never have mentioned his own sexuality, but he hadn’t thought about it at the time as being an issue. Not that it was an
issue
now. But the kid clearly had a crush on him.

On one hand, it was sweet and harmless. Rafael Castillo was likely closeted and lonely, and Shane didn’t want to hurt his feelings. But he was treading on dangerous ground. A situation like this could blow up in his face. Aside from a few unfortunate incidents involving alcohol and prostitutes on foreign details, there hadn’t been any scandals in the service the past decade. He sure as hell wasn’t going to cause one now by encouraging this crush and having it go south.

Especially since that dangerous ground was becoming more and more treacherous by the day. It was harmless enough for Rafa to have a crush on him. It sure as hell wasn’t for Shane to have a crush of his own. And of course he didn’t. The idea was absolutely absurd.

Yet that night at the river, when Rafa had touched him—only an innocent touch of his hand on Shane’s arm—Shane had felt it right down to his balls. And on the drive back to Castle, he’d been compelled to share an embarrassing story about falling in a pool at a barbecue in college while trying to balance a case of beer on his head. It had made Rafa laugh and wrinkle up his nose, and Shane wanted to tell him more personal stories.

He shook his head. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d met someone and wanted to spend so much time with them. Of course the irony was that he’d be spending hours a day with Rafa, and it was time to get his shit together and stop blurring the lines.

But he couldn’t just not show tonight—not when Rafa was making avocado soup because it was Shane’s favorite. He could imagine how Rafa’s face would fall if he didn’t show. As he started up the stairs, his pulse fluttered uneasily.
Christ. What do I have to be nervous about? Go eat the soup and call it a day.

The smell of roasting tomatoes—and mmm, bacon—filled the third floor. Shane stopped in the doorway as he reached the kitchen and watched Rafa ladle soup into a bowl with great concentration. Rafa wore jeans and a worn green T-shirt, with flip-flops on his feet. His hair was unfortunately still slicked down, and Shane wondered if he’d ever see it curly again with a strange pang of regret. The denim hugged Rafa’s slim hips and the curve of his ass, and Shane mused about what kind of underwear Rafa had on…

As heat rushed through him, Shane jerked his gaze up and cleared his throat.

Rafa’s face lit up as he glanced over. “Oh! Hey, Shane. The soup’s almost ready. I’ve just got to…” He reached for a small bowl. “I cooked and diced a few strips of bacon as garnish. Thought it was worth a try.”

“Bacon’s always worth a try.”

Rafa laughed. “That’s what I figured. And I made the roasted tomatoes and basil again, but this time with Boursin instead of goat cheese. So you can tell me which one’s better. But here, soup first.” He thrust out a spoon and handed Shane the bowl.

“Aren’t you going to have any?” Shane hesitated. Rafa had a habit of just watching him intently, and it could be unnerving at times. Largely because he looked at Shane like Fred Flintstone eyeing a rack of brontosaurus ribs.

“Oh, yeah.” Rafa went back to ladling.

Shane took a mouthful of the soup. “Mmm. Damn, that’s good.” The creaminess of the cold avocado and the salty hint of warm bacon was perfect.

“Really?”

Nodding, Shane had another spoonful. And another. As he ate, Rafa talked. Everyone thought of him as so quiet, but once he got going, he wasn’t so shy, and he had a lot of interesting things to say.

“And we’re talking about the actual King of England here. I seriously almost tripped him in the entrance hall. But he was just like, ‘Steady on, old chap. Pip, pip,’ or something ridiculously British. And this other time, you won’t believe what I saw in the Blue Room.”

Shane chuckled as Rafa continued. Rafa talked with his hands, his voice never getting very loud, but his eyes sparkling. His teeth were even and white, and gleamed as he smiled.

“Oh, I watched that movie—
Endless Summer
? You’re right, it was really cool even though it was old.”

“Glad to hear it. It’s dated, but it’s a classic.” Why should he care if Rafa liked the movie or not? It made no sense whatsoever, but Shane was pleased. “There was a sequel too. From the nineties, I think. Kelly Slater’s early era.”

Rafa’s face lit up. “Kelly Slater? He’s a legend. I still have a poster of him in my room.” He laughed nervously. “Wow. That sounds super lame. It’s from when we first moved in. I just haven’t bothered taking it down. I’m not…I don’t put up posters anymore.”

“It’s okay. My old room at my folks’ house was like a time machine.” As the words left his mouth, he tensed. He never talked about his parents, but with Rafa the words somehow just came out. Somehow it felt…safe. Shane kept his gaze on his shoes.

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