Chapter 11

"Let's go through this again."

Dix couldn't miss the barely hidden disgust in Detective Reginald Marsh's voice. He knew the source of Marsh's irritation: the officer plainly wasn't happy with the course of the conversation thus far, although they'd been at it for nearly four hours.

It's a good thing we've got beds for the night. They were going to need them after this shitshow.

Maybe it was time to bring said shitshow to a much-needed conclusion.

Dix leaned back in his chair, his arms folded. "We can go through it as many times as you'd like, Detective, but the answers are not going to change." He counted off on his fingers. "Dr. Tanner contacted Dr. Joshua Malone, writing that he was in trouble and needed help. Dr. Malone arrived at the location stated in the email, where a bomb exploded, killing dozens of people and injuring three times that number. I went in and pulled my client, Dr. Malone, from the building. We spoke with the feds and gave them the same story." He forced a smile. "You're welcome to contact them. In fact, I've given you the number of Jeff Chalmers, the Special Agent-in-Charge, if you want to verify our story."

Marsh ignored Dix's statement and peered at his notes. "And you just happened to stumble across the body almost fourteen hundred miles from where CrossBow is located? That seems awfully convenient, wouldn't you say?"

Dix took a deep breath. His hands ached to wipe that look off the asshole's face. "As I've stated—several times—Dr. Malone researched Cliff Tanner's whereabouts, and he discovered that Tanner had purchased that building. We went to see if we could find any clues as to his location. That's when we found the body."

"Why would anyone buy that place? It's nothing but a pile of bricks."

Dix met his stare. "No clue. And if that is Tanner's body, as we suspect, it's not as if he can tell us."

Marsh mimicked his body language, folding his arms. "So you're telling me this needed five of you?" he scoffed. "To watch one guy? That's the part I find difficult to swallow. I just don't buy it."

Dix exhaled sharply, his patience finally worn thin. "I don't give a flying fuck whether you buy it or not, Detective." Marsh's eyes grew flinty, but Dix was past caring. "We have reason to believe Dr. Malone is a very high-priority target for persons as yet unknown. He's also very important to the owners of CrossBow, and we're doing everything we can to ensure his safety." He leaned forward, his fingers laced. "I've cooperated with you until now, but frankly? This is bullshit. All the information I've given you is the truth, and if I'm honest, I'm tired of these games. Have you spoken with the rest of my people? Or with Dr. Malone?"

The detective grumbled, then fixed Dix with a harsh glare. "Yes. The members of your team all tell the same story as you."

"And have you contacted the Special Agent I told you about?"

"He corroborates it too." The reply was almost a snarl.

"Then what's the problem here?" Dix stood, ready to be done with this crap. "If there's nothing more, I need to see my client, Dr. Malone, to ensure he's okay."

"He's fine," Marsh snapped. "That fed you just mentioned? He and a couple of others pulled Dr. Malone into a room less than ten minutes after we started questioning him."

That the feds had Doc under surveillance was no big surprise.

"Then what else do you need from me, Detective Marsh?" Then he realized something. Yes, they'd been annoying as fuck, but throughout the whole wasted four hours, they hadn't once threatened to charge them or jail them.

They know something.

He straightened. "Or have the feds told you to cut us loose because we're part of an active federal investigation, and you're seeing if you can delay releasing us?"

The asshole's cheeks went nuclear. "Get the fuck out of here!" he bellowed. "I don't want to see your face in Racine again." He pointed to the door. "Malone is in room two with the government guys."

Dix grinned. "You'll see my face wherever it needs to be, Detective. And if you've got a problem with that, take it up with the feds."

With that, Dix turned and strode out of the door. The place was a small maze, but eventually he found room two. Two men stood outside it, looking very anal with their pressed polyester suits, matching ties, and… sunglasses? Really?

Whatever.

He walked up to the door, but neither man paid him any attention. He grabbed the knob and gave it a twist. Inside, he found Doc sitting at the table, a shake and a burger in front of him. Dix recognized Special Agent Chalmers instantly. He'd been involved in the investigation at CrossBow the previous year. He stood with his back to the wall, gazing at Doc with obvious bemusement, then glanced at Dix.

"Mr. Meeks, it's good to see you again."

Dix gave a nod. "Special Agent Chalmers. Nice to see you're taking care of our guy."

Chalmers snorted. "Do you have any idea how far we had to go to get him a vegan burger and shake? We were almost in Bay View."

Dix frowned. "I knew you were vegetarian, but I didn't know you were vegan, Doc—Josh."

Doc grinned. "I'm not, but I figured if they're going to be stalking me, the least they could do is put in some real effort and buy me a meal."

Dix burst out laughing, especially once he caught sight of Chalmers's open-mouthed stare.

Time to get Doc out of there.

"I take it we're okay to go now?"

Chalmers nodded. "You were free to do that a while ago." He inclined his head toward the door. "It seems the local police didn't want to part company with you."

"You noticed that, huh?" Dix peered at Doc. "Wanna bring the food with you?"

Doc's eyes gleamed. "Maybe the detective who interviewed you is hungry by now. He can have it."

"Then let's find the others and go breathe clean air."

His nose wrinkled. "So it's not just me. That gets my vote." He pushed his chair back and stood. Dix gave Chalmers another nod, then stood aside to let Doc past him.

It didn't take long to find Brant and the rest of the team. They sat on chairs near the front desk, all staring at either the ceiling or the floor. The smiles that greeted Dix told him they'd been through pretty much the same rigmarole.

"First dinner, and then we hit the hotel. What does everyone want?" He was starving, so he figured they had to be too.

"Spaghetti!"

"Subs!"

"Steak!"

"Chicken!"

Dix sighed. "Pizza it is."

Carl let out a whoop. "Thank God." He was on his feet in a heartbeat, hurrying to the door and holding it open for everyone to file past him. Jazz got on her phone, and Dix knew she was on the hunt for a good pizza place.

Lance stood in the police parking lot and turned his face skyward. "It's awesome to breathe fresh air as free men."

Dix shook his head, chuckling.

"I thought we'd never get out of the slammer," Lance continued. "I could feel myself aging with every passing hour. I was even worried I'd never see my kids again. I had visions of them growing up without their daddy. My wife would have to find a new husband, and that bastard had better treat her right. I have contacts on the outside, and I could make his life effing miserable."

"Drama queen," Jazz said with a snort, not glancing up from her phone.

"He's not wrong." Dix let out a growl. "How many times did they need to hear the exact same story? You wanna know what was worse? The feds told them to cut us loose, but noooo, they kept trying to keep us a little while longer." He glanced at his wrist. "It's a good thing you booked rooms, Jazz. I'm way too wiped to fly back tonight."

Jazz raised her chin. "I think we all are." She yawned. "I already called home and told them I wouldn't be back until tomorrow. Lottie said she figured, and that she'd keep the bed warm for me."

"You're lucky your wife is so understanding," Lance muttered. "Mine was pissed when I told her." He snickered. "Of course, that's why I took the assignment. It got me out of the house for a while."

Jazz patted his arm. "Don't worry. We'll never tell Maya you said that—as long as you buy the coffee the next time."

"Blackmail. Et tu, Jazz?"

She shrugged. "I'm not really into coffee, but if you're paying, I'll drink it." Then she grinned. "Got it. Renzo's Pizzeria and Trattoria. Looks as if it's pretty authentic Italian, judging by the reviews."

Lance snorted. "I'll be the judge of that." When everyone stared at him, he smiled. "Hey, my mom is Italian."

Dix glanced at Doc, who seemed to have zoned out. "You okay?"

Doc blinked. "Huh? Oh. Yeah, I'm fine. I could eat, though." He gave a half smile. "As long as you don't try to feed me a vegan burger."

"Speak for yourself," Carl said with a huff. "I like vegan food."

"Can we stop talking and go eat?" Brant whined. "My stomach thinks my throat's been cut."

Lance gazed at him, eyes wide. "And what does that mean?"

"You mean it needs explanation? Jeez. It's like my stomach thinks something terrible must have happened to my throat because no food is coming in." Brant rolled his eyes. "My mom is Italian too, but my dad's Irish. I learned all kinds of weird sayings growing up."

Dix removed the car keys from his pocket and aimed the fob at the parked Chevy. "Then let's go see how authentic Renzo's really is."

Maybe a little food would do Doc some good.

Dinner was a loud,raucous affair. Each of them told their favorite story about the people they'd guarded, and the more they talked, the funnier they got. Josh had asked about beer—not for him, because he didn't drink—and they'd all stared at him like he was nuts.

"Doc, even if we're done with this, we're still your guards. We take that very seriously." Dixon's expression matched his words, and Josh felt a rush of warmth.

He'd never felt so protected, so safe.

"Are you going to eat that?" Brant indicated Carl's plate.

Carl glared at him. "Touch my calzone and you're a dead man."

"Here." Jazz handed Brant what was left of the Renzo fries, deep-fried pizza dough sticks with marinara sauce.

Brant rolled his eyes. He grabbed a couple of fries and dunked them, then demolished them in two bites. "That marinara sauce is heavenly." He peered at Lance. "Well? Is the food like Momma used to make?"

Lance grinned. "Better, but don't tell her I said that."

Josh couldn't repress his yawn, and the result was instantaneous as everyone around the table joined in.

Dixon laughed. "Okay, I think that's our cue to leave." He chuckled. "That is if we can tear Brant away from his fries." He touched Josh on the shoulder. "Bed for you."

Josh couldn't resist. "A good night's sleep is just what the doctor ordered."

He was probably right. Josh might have considered the idea that Tanner was dead—discovering what had likely been his remains was something else altogether.

What now? Where do I go from here?

Those were questions he'd deal with when his mind was refreshed.

By the timethey reached the room, Dix was more than ready for his bed. He opened the door—and came to a dead stop, blocking Doc's view.

"Oh."

Why didn't I ask when they gave out the key cards?

He'd been too goddamn tired, that was why.

"What's wrong?" Doc pushed past him and surveyed the room. Dix had to admit it was pleasant enough, with a couple of chairs, a wide screen TV?—

And one bed. Granted, it was a king—better than nothing—but still…

Dix pointed to it. "If that's gonna be a problem, I can always go down to the front desk and get them to give us a room with two beds."

Doc snorted. "Are you kidding? I'm so tired, I'll be asleep the second my head hits the pillow. I won't even know you're there."

"Okay, then a few ground rules. There'll be no hogging the covers or stuff like that. Got it? You'll be on that side, me on this. That's it. Nothing else." Certainly not the images that flitted through his head right then. Images of Doc, naked, in his arms, under him, pinned to the mattress….

Then he realized Doc had gone quiet, and Dix glanced in his direction, shoving aside the delicious fantasies that trickled through his mind.

Doc appeared puzzled. "Nothing else like what?"

Well, fuck. Dix had forgotten Doc was essentially an innocent.

Doc shrugged. "Look, if it's going to be an issue for you, then you take the bed and I'll sleep in the chair. It looks comfy enough." He headed for the bathroom, closed the door behind him, and seconds later came the unmistakable sound of him taking a leak.

Dix removed his jacket, after placing his gun on the nightstand. Then he sat on the edge of the bed and kicked off his shoes.

Well, this is awkward.

What made it so was Doc. There was no way Dix would let him spend the night in a chair, but the alternative….

Dix was no stranger to sharing a bed with a guy, but that was usually after they'd burned up the sheets for a couple of hours. It had been a while since he'd done that, however. Sure, there'd been numerous hookups before he started working at CrossBow, but since that day, he'd done everything he could to prove to Gary—and now Michael—that they weren't wrong for hiring him. Before then, he'd never known where he'd be from one moment to the next, and he'd grabbed every sexual opportunity that came his way.

Starting as OP manager had changed all that. For the first time, Dix was thinking about his life. He had stability, something that had eluded him for a long while. But the more time he spent around Doc, the more convinced he became that he was missing out.

Stability isn't enough. Not anymore.

He glanced toward the bathroom door, hearing the toilet flush. Dix wasn't about to delude himself. He wasn't the kind of man Doc would go for. And there was no way Dix was going to let anything slip that would make Doc feel awkward around him.

The door opened, and Dix stood.

"I'm going to have a shower." Anything not to see Doc undress. To see what lay beneath the layers of clothing.

Keep that for my fantasies.

Doc walked over to the chair by the window. "Okay."

Dix pulled the shirt off over his head and tossed it onto the other chair. It was only then he realized that Doc wasn't used to being around half-naked men. "Oh, sorry." He started toward the bathroom, then stopped. "If you need me, call and I'll come running."

The shower would allow him a little privacy. The thought of spending the night with Doc in such close proximity had already resulted in a semi-stiff cock.

"I'll be out in a few minutes," he muttered, then marched into the bathroom, leaving the door slightly ajar. Once inside he turned on the taps. He knew Doc was in the next room, and it felt wrong to leave him there alone. Dix should be there, protecting him.

Best to put him out of your mind. The man was unattainable, and Dix would have to accept that.

Except there seemed to be a battle going on inside Dix's head.

You've never backed down when you wanted someone. Why are you hesitating now?

It was a good question, but Dix already knew the answer. Doc was a lot like a bunny, cute and sweet and fluffy. Watching it was fun, but if you startled it, then it would dash away and might never return.

He didn't want to scare Doc off so badly that he didn't come back.

So then you're willing to go on with this half-relationship? That's not at all like you.

That inner voice had nailed him. Dix never hesitated when he wanted someone. He would march up to them, make eye contact, and that was it. If they were amenable, they'd go off and do what bunnies did. If not, he'd find someone else who was interested.

But Doc was different. He had an air about him that made Dix want more.

Lots more.

Dix wanted to wake up in the morning and see Doc's hair all sleep-rumpled, his eyes not focused yet because his glasses were on the nightstand where he'd left them the night before. He wanted to hear Doc's whimper when he realized how early it was. Dix wanted to come home and make him dinner, because he knew Doc hadn't eaten even though Dix had delivered food to him. To remind him that he needed to go to bed at ten, because they had an early meeting the next day. To crawl into bed and have Doc complain about the sub-arctic temperatures Dix kept the room at, then purr when he was pulled in for a cuddle.

Lord, how Dix yearned to fucking cuddle. That was unbelievable in and of itself.

He showered as quickly as he could, being mindful to keep his hands away from his crotch. He couldn't spend ten minutes in the shower jacking off. Besides, his cock would go down eventually.

Right?

Then the sound of Doc humming reached his ears, and bam. He was hard all over again.

This night is going to kill me.

Josh stared at the door.

What on earth is he sorry about?

He looked at the chair, then the bed, then back to the chair again. It had been a noble gesture on his part, but the more he thought about it, the more tempting the bed became. He could stretch out on it for the duration of Dixon's shower, just to see if it was as comfortable as it appeared.

And if it is?

Maybe he'd rethink the noble gesture. It was only one night, after all.

He sat on the bed, bouncing experimentally on the mattress. In the bathroom, the sound of running water died, and Josh glanced at the door. Through the gap, he caught a glimpse of the bathroom mirror, and his mouth went dry.

Oh dear Lord.

He spied Dixon in the act of getting out of the shower, and the sight sent heat flushing through him. Josh had seen naked men before, but not one of them was Dixon, and damn it, he wanted to stop looking, but he couldn't pull his gaze away from those broad shoulders, furry chest, and firm thigh muscles.

Then Dixon reached down and tugged on his penis, and Josh's own dick reacted. He palmed the stiffening bulge in his pants, unable to look away.

What was it Christopher had said? Something about how much Josh would love his cock? He doubted Christopher's appendage was any kind of match for Dixon's. And even if by some miracle his was bigger than Dixon's, it was Christopher, so… ew.

"Doc?"

Josh jumped, as though Dixon had caught him looking. "Yeah?"

"D'you think you could call room service and see if they have any chamomile tea?"

He blinked. "You like that?" Dixon continued to surprise him.

"Yeah. It helps me relax. And while I might have been yawning my head off downstairs like everyone else, I seem to have gotten my second wind. I need to turn my brain off."

Josh reached for the phone. "Sure. Calling them now."

Anything not to keep staring at that gloriously firm body.

Who was he kidding? His attention was focused on Dixon's thick cock.