Warrior's Cross (25 page)

Julian’s eyes drifted down to the necklace, and then he looked back up and met Cameron’s eyes silently, not answering.

Cameron studied him as he slowly calmed down. “There’s so much I don’t know about you,” he pointed out almost accusingly.

Julian pressed his lips together, and he nodded again. “I’ll tell you almost anything you want to know,” he offered resignedly. “But you’ve got to be aware of the danger in knowing.”

“Danger? There’s always danger, Julian,” Cameron responded, his voice sad and resigned. “Even if you’re a normal, unremarkable waiter like me. You can be mugged at gunpoint. You can catch pneumonia and die. You can be hit by a bus on your way to buy groceries. Lately, I’ve thought the worst danger would be having my heart broken.”

Julian was silent for a moment. “Ouch,” he finally observed in a hurt voice.

Cameron rubbed his eyes and abruptly turned and walked toward the kitchen, where he pulled out a bottle of wine and two glasses, setting them apart from each other. He braced his hands on the bar for a long moment before he opened the bottle with jerky movements and filled the glasses.

“Cameron,” Julian murmured worriedly as he followed hesitantly.

The glass tipped back for a small swallow, and Cameron’s gaze returned to Julian. He had to ask. He had to know. “Do you love me, Julian?”

Julian’s eyes flickered as he watched Cameron. “Yes,” he said with certainty.

Warrior’s Cross 175

Cameron’s eyes didn’t move. “Are you going to leave me because loving me is dangerous?”

Julian blinked rapidly and visibly fought the urge to shuffle his feet. “No,” he answered. “Not unless you ask me to,” he amended softly.

Cameron watched him speculatively before he set down his glass and gestured to the other one. “Then take off your coat and have some wine.”

Julian watched him carefully and then slowly began to move. He shrugged out of his coat, draped it over the back of a chair, and walked to the kitchen to look at Cameron across the bar. “I don’t really need anything to drink tonight,” he said with a wince.

“Had a bad night, did you?” Cameron asked in a hard voice.

Julian raised his head and met Cameron’s eyes, not answering with words or his expression.

Cameron snorted at him. “Why’d you shave?” he asked with a wave of the bottle as he started to refill his own glass.

Julian licked his lips thoughtfully and then looked down at the counter. “Just time for a change,” he answered softly. “Do you want me to grow it back?” he asked as he looked back up.

Cameron tipped his head to one side, focusing on the man across from him. “I’ll think about it,” he said. “What’s your favorite color?”

“You,” Julian answered immediately.

Cameron’s brows jerked up. “What?”

Julian smiled and lowered his head. “Green,” he answered seriously.

Cameron smiled a little. “Where are you from?”

“Just outside of Topeka,” Julian answered without hesitation.

“Kansas.”

Cameron nodded and took another sip of wine. That explained Julian’s complete lack of any accent. It also probably meant that all the culture and polish he exuded was self-taught. Cameron found himself 176

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impressed just by that little fact. He searched for more questions to ask.

“Did you go to college?”

“Several,” Julian answered with a growing smirk.

Cameron smiled wryly. “Yeah, I figured.” He paused. Now that Julian was actually answering his questions, he couldn’t seem to come up with any to ask. “Do you really not like my dogs?”

Julian huffed softly and looked away, watching as the dogs romped. “I… They’re always a welcome sight.”

Cameron’s nose wrinkled. “I think you might be stretching the truth there a little.”

“Yes,” Julian admitted with a nod.

“But you’ll tolerate them.”

“Yes,” Julian agreed with a suddenly tentative smile.

“They won’t get much bigger. A couple pounds, maybe,” Cameron explained. “Eight each, tops.”

“Projectile size,” Julian murmured with a glance at the dogs again.

Cameron’s eyes narrowed in warning, but Julian just smiled at him innocently. “I would never projectile your dogs,” he promised. “Not on purpose, anyway,” he amended.

Cameron snorted softly and took another sip of wine. “Are you always so soft-spoken because of your work?”

Julian blinked at him in confusion. “I… I don’t think so,” he stammered.

“What? You didn’t realize?” Cameron asked with an amused smile. “You’re so quiet most of the time, even when you’re talking to me. The loudest I hear you is when you’re fucking me as hard as you can.”

Julian actually blushed and looked away. It was much more obvious now that he was clean-shaven. He cleared his throat. “I’ve never really thought about it,” he admitted with an embarrassed shrug.

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Cameron watched him for a long moment, taking a couple long swallows of wine. “Do you like your job?” It was an echo of the question Julian had asked him months ago.

Julian hesitated only briefly before nodding. “I’m good at it,” he claimed in a voice that was barely there.

“What are you always writing in that notebook of yours?”

Cameron asked, not allowing himself to linger on what being good at Julian’s job entailed.

“Notes,” Julian answered vaguely. “Notes for jobs and

assignments,” he clarified as he dug out the little moleskin notebook from an inner pocket and set it on the counter between them. He left his fingers resting on top of it. “Sometimes I work things out better if I put them in front of me, instead of letting them rattle around in my head.”

Cameron looked down at the notebook, then up at Julian warily.

“You can read it, if you want,” Julian offered quietly, and he slid the notebook across the counter and removed his hand. “There are things you may not want to see.”

Cameron shook his head and gently pushed the notebook back toward Julian, who picked it up and slid it under his lapel into the pocket once more. Cameron argued with himself about the next question, but asked anyway. “Do you know things about me that I haven’t told you?”

Julian looked at him thoughtfully for a long time. “That’s a hard question to answer,” he murmured finally.

Cameron suddenly felt very uncomfortable. What if there was something about
him
in that notebook? “Hard because you can’t? Or hard because you won’t?” he asked, one hand gripping the edge of the counter.

“Hard because if I say no, I’d be lying, and if I tell you yes, you’ll assume the worst,” Julian answered bluntly. “I know that you tug at your ear when you’re nervous. I know that you talk in your sleep. I know that you like to fix my tie for me, even though you fuss about it. I know a lot of things about you that you haven’t told me.”

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Cameron kept his hand clamped on the counter to keep from lifting it to tug at his ear just as Julian said he would. He looked at his lover evenly, a little annoyance creeping into his eyes. “That’s a lovely, roundabout sort-of answer,” he said before sniffing. “I talk in my sleep?” he asked hesitantly.

Julian lowered his head. Disappointed that Cameron hadn’t reacted better to what he’d hoped would be something sort of romantic?

Cameron couldn’t tell. Then Julian sighed and looked back up, nodding.

Cameron glanced at the ceiling. “I’m not so sure I like that,” he muttered. “There’s no telling what I’m saying to you.” Then he stiffened. God, all the things he worried about happening to Julian, wondering what he would do if Julian didn’t come back, what he could do to keep the other man’s attention… did he voice those worries at night?

“Mostly you try to take my order and tell me to clear tables,”

Julian told him, trying not to smile.

Head snapping up, Cameron looked at his lover, appalled. “No, I do
not
!”

Julian smiled and shrugged lopsidedly. “I’ve heard worse.”

Cameron narrowed his eyes, realizing he’d been pulled off track.

He sighed and filled up his glass, though Julian’s still stood untouched.

Julian was obviously a lot better at talking around things than he himself was. If he wanted to hide something from Cameron, he could probably do it without Cameron ever knowing. It was a sobering, depressing thought.

“What’s my favorite color?” he asked.

Julian gave a slight smile and glanced at the puppies. “Green?” he guessed as he studied them.

Cameron followed Julian’s gaze and smiled slightly as he shook his head. It was a valid guess, he supposed. The dog’s collars were blue, yellow, red, and white. No green to be found. Cameron figured a man like Julian wouldn’t be able to pick a particular dog to name after his favorite color, so he wouldn’t use that color at all. Julian was using Warrior’s Cross 179

that logic and applying it to Cameron. It was sweet, in a way, and Cameron had to fight not to kiss him for it.

“Where do you live?” he asked instead. “When you’re not here with me?”

“At home,” Julian answered as he looked back at Cameron. “What
is
your favorite color?” he asked curiously.

“I don’t ask very good questions, do I?” Cameron muttered after drinking down almost half his glass again. He looked back up at Julian.

In answer to his question, Cameron pulled open the collar of his shirt with one hand and brushed his fingers over the garnet stone in the pendant.

Julian’s eyes followed the movement and then drifted back up to Cameron’s in surprise. “You just need to be more specific,” he murmured in answer to the question Cameron had posed.

Cameron wondered why Julian looked mildly shocked, and he kept his fingers on the pendant, stroking the stone warmed by his skin.

His brow wrinkled as he tried to frame his next question. “More specific,” he murmured. He raised speculative eyes to Julian’s. “Will you take me home with you someday?”

Julian blinked at him and hesitated. “You’d want to see where I live?” he asked uncertainly.

“Yes,” Cameron answered, tilting his head as he looked at him. “Is that a problem?” Julian looked down, obviously trying to think it through or stall before giving an answer. Brows raising, Cameron took another big drink of wine and set down the mostly empty glass with a clink to fill it back up. Julian’s pause was not reassuring. “Is there someone else living there?” he asked, his confidence bolstered by the wine and growing unease. “Boyfriend? Girlfriend? Wife?” he asked pointedly.

Julian looked up quickly. “What?” he asked in shock.

Cameron took his time filling up his glass yet again. “It’s a yes-or-no question, Julian. Actually, they both are. Pretty specific ones,” he rambled a little before unconsciously raising a hand to squeeze the back of his neck and pull at his ear.

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“You think I’m married?” Julian asked, his voice rising unusually high.

“Right now I don’t know what to think. But I do know you well enough to know that if you were going to say no, you’d have said it immediately,” Cameron claimed, waiting to see if Julian contradicted him.

Julian stared at him incredulously. “What, you think just because you hit someone with a hammer, they’re going to immediately say

‘ow’?” he asked.

“I need more wine,” Cameron muttered, filling up his half-empty glass. “You act like two totally different people sometimes, you know that?”

“What?” Julian repeated helplessly.

“All right.” Cameron said sharply, setting down his glass. “Set my mind at ease, one way or the other. Do you live with anyone else besides me on a regular basis?”

“No,” Julian answered with obvious pain in his voice. He stopped suddenly and his brow furrowed as he looked down. “Unless you count Preston,” he corrected.

“Preston? Who’s Preston?”

“My driver,” Julian said as he looked back up at Cameron almost pleadingly, the hurt still showing in the set of his shoulders. “What sort of person do you think I am?” he asked.

Cameron slumped and leaned over to hide his head in his arms on the bar. “You’re upset with me,” came out muffled.

“How long have you wondered if I was married?” Julian asked without responding to the statement. “First I was some sort of… man-whore; now I’m some asshole cheating on his wife? What else do you think of me, Cameron?”

Head snapping up, Cameron decided he was angry more than anything else. “I don’t know what I think of you, Julian! You never talk about yourself! I can’t do anything but guess!” His wine-fueled bravado suddenly waned, and he just stopped talking. “I’ve had too Warrior’s Cross 181

much to drink,” he mumbled, pushing the glass away and moving to cork the bottle.

Julian stood at the counter, staring at him and waffling between appearing angry and hurt. “Fine,” he breathed after a few tense moments of silence. “Get your fucking coat on,” he ordered as he reached into his pocket for his phone.

Cameron looked up from the bottle. Resignation was clear on his face; he knew he’d not just upset Julian. He’d made him angry. One part of him was amazed to get a new reaction out of his lover. He’d never seen him truly angry before. The rest of him just hurt and ached and sort of wanted to cry. “Why?” he found himself asking.

“Because I fucking told you to,” Julian snapped as he held the phone to his ear. He barked Cameron’s address and then jabbed the phone off angrily.

Cameron blinked in surprise at Julian for a few heartbeats before thoughtlessly moving to obey. He scooted around the bar and out into the living room to get his coat. Julian muttered to himself as Cameron moved and then began stalking toward the door.

“Make sure the dogs have food,” Julian said as he yanked the door open.

Cameron did what he was told quickly as Julian, practically vibrating with anger, waited silently. Cameron thought he might understand how Julian scared Miri, but despite how angry Julian looked and acted, Cameron didn’t feel threatened. More upset with himself and ashamed than anything. He swiped his keys off the small table at the door and stopped an arm’s length away from the other man.