Chapter 10

Waylon clearedthe condo while Chayce waited in the car. He whistled when he got inside. Luxe hardwood. Leather couches. A kitchen to die for. And a huge king-size bed.

He could live like this happily.

It was clear, and he did a visual sweep for devices like cameras and bugs, but he would have to go over the place more in depth later.

He didn't like leaving Chayce out there alone.

By the time he got out, Chayce was unloading the car, bringing bags up to the door. That wasn't exactly staying put.

"Car was supposed to be running."

"Yeah, yeah. You can tell it's a ghost town." Chayce handed him his go-bag. "There are always signs if someone is around, even if there's no cars."

Waylon tilted his head. "How's that?"

"The vents up there would be throwing out steam if someone was here with the air on. Hot or cold."

"Good to know. Smart cookie."

"That's me. Brilliant." And Chayce had proved too interested in how things worked, so it was a win-win.

"Well, your primary place is clear, so come on. I'll grab the rest of the bags."

"There's not much. Maybe your Slim Jims," Chayce teased.

"Then you got the condoms." Oh, he was in rare form. He loved matching wits with his lover.

"And the heating lube. Go team us." Chayce slipped in. "You like my condo?"

"I do. The bed looks amazing." Waylon headed off to the car, locking it after pulling out the last bag of snacks.

They walked into the condo, and he left all the bags on the kitchen counter. God, his back was stiff.

"We should fire up the hot tub," Chayce told him.

"Hell yes."

"Oh." Chayce blinked at him, then grinned. "I expected you to say no."

"You said it was inside, right?"

"Yeah, it's in the greenhouse room. Keeps things warm and humid for the plants."

"Well, then we're golden." He could totally soak the last few days away. His whole body would thank him for that.

"Yeah, come see. It's sort of hidden back here. The person I bought the place from was growing marijuana back here, I think, but I just have houseplants, a pool, a sauna, and the big hot tub."

Just.

Jesus.

The hot tub was like… heaven. Waylon would spend all his time right in this room if he could. This was not the kind of setup he thought of when he thought condo. "This is stunning, honey."

"Yeah, that's why I don't rent to strangers. This is like a compound, a songwriting think tank."

"I bet. I can see y'all jamming." Waylon checked all the sunroom windows, but it was all secure. "When do we get naked?"

"You're the boss. I'm just the artist in residence." And Chayce was stripping down already.

"Oh, woo-hoo. Me the boss." He flung off his shirt.

"Yep, you're it, and—" Chayce stopped, stared to one side. "What the hell are you doing here? I haven't rented the place out."

Waylon whirled around, pushing in front of Chayce and backing him toward the door they'd come through. "Who the fuck are you?"

The guy was unkempt, skinny, short hair sticking up all over. All Waylon saw was the revolver, pointed at him. "You kidnapped my lover. I've been waiting for him to come home, and you brought him to me."

"Your what?" Waylon started calculating, his mind racing. .22 revolver. Unless the guy got him in the head or right through the ribs, he would probably survive, but this was close quarters. Chayce needed to just get to the doorway, and he could run. "I've never seen him with you."

"He's with me every day on tour! He asked me to be with him!"

He heard Chayce draw in a breath to speak, and he put a hand back to warn the man not to say anything. "Well, he's with me now, buddy. Like all the way. And you know you can't measure up to this." He flexed, hoping the kid saw all his hard-earned muscle and saw red. Made a bad move.

"I don't know him," Chayce whispered.

He nodded once to show he'd heard, but he had to watch the kid's eyes and hand.

"Tell him. Tell him before I kill him that you're mine."

"You hurt him, I'll kill myself. I'm serious. If you know me, you'd know I'll do it."

"No!" Spit flew as the guy screamed. "You told me! You told me at that bull riding in Kansas City! You said you liked my style. You signed my shirt!"

Oh Jesus fuck, save him from demented fans!

"He's not yours, man. You give it your best shot and then I'm gonna take that gun and shove it up your ass." He pushed Chayce back one more time, and Chayce cleared the doorway. "Go!"

"No!" The stupid fucker followed Chayce with his eyes and the gun.

And that was all he needed. Waylon leaped, locking his fingers around the guy's wrist, pushing the gun away from him and Chayce both, then locking that skinny arm into place while he turned the guy and wrapped an arm around his neck.

"Chayce, call the cops."

"On it." Chayce had his phone in hand, even as he ran in and picked up the firearm, getting it out of the way.

"How could you betray me?"

"I don't even know you, asshole!"

"Get me something to tie him up, baby?"

"Uh-huh. Hey. I'm at a condo at…" Chayce rattled off the address. "I have a stalker who broke in and tried to shoot me."

"I'm his lover!"

"This son of a bitch is insane. Hurry, please. My private security has him."

Waylon knew they had to be getting more information, because Chayce was answering questions with yes or no, and hunting around for something to tie up their overwrought nutbag.

"You don't understand…He's just scared. He loves me. He hired me!"

"Shut UP!" Chayce screamed. "I did not such fucking thing, you motherfucker!"

"Buddy, I hate to do this, because I don't want to damage your brain…" Not that he really cared. He squeezed with his arm until the asshole passed out.

"I don't know him. I mean, he looks vaguely familiar, but it's nothing… amazing."

"Send your show manager a picture." That way they had an ID for when the cops arrived. As private security, he wasn't going to rifle through the guy's pockets and risk getting accused of stealing.

"Okay. Okay, yeah." That took about a minute before Chayce's phone buzzed. "Motherfucker. He's a bass slinger for the band. Hired on at the start of the tour."

"I knew he had to have access." The guy had a backstage badge. He could throw fireworks, shoot things. But he'd signed on long enough before Waylon to have passed the early background checks. Dammit. "Why was he here?"

"I don't know. I haven't been here since the tour started." Chayce found an extension cord. "Does this work?"

"Perfect." He secured the kid's hands and feet after he cut the cord in half. "Thanks. You okay?"

"Great. It was a fucking psycho. I thought it was Chris! I ghosted him!"

"He was acting pretty sketchy, baby. You can apologize but tell him he pushed the boundary." Waylon was just damn glad his lover, and his primary, were safe.

Chayce shook his head, sitting down on the edge of the hot tub. "Where are the cops? I want him gone."

"They should be here soon. This isn't a thriving crime area." He heard sirens a few second later, in fact. "Thank you for going with me on that." Chayce could have made it hard.

"I wasn't going to leave you. I was drawing his fire."

"I know. I know you too well by now. But it worked, and I'm grateful." His hands were shaking. His hands never shook. So he grabbed Chayce up and kissed him silly the moment he was on his feet. "Let's not do that again," Waylon said when they broke for air. "The gun and stalker thing."

"Fair enough. No more. I want this fucker gone. I'm going inside. No media. Fair?"

"Perfectly. If they need to talk to you, I'll make it short, and you'll never be without me." But he knew better. He would be able to give the statement. Waylon could be persuasive.

"Thank you. I'll be inside. I'll call the folks."

"I'll be in as soon as I can." He checked the perp's bonds, then went out to meet the police, tossing his shirt back on before he did.

It took nearly an hour to answer all the questions, but he managed to spare Chayce the grilling for now, and the cops finally left with the stalker, hauling him off in cuffs and a spit collar wrapped around his head.

"Baby?" He stepped into the condo. "You in here?"

"I am." Chayce was in the center of the bed, blankets piled around him. "It was Erik. My drummer. He came out for a couple of weeks before the tour started, and he was recognized by a fan that worked out in Atlanta when he was renting a car to get up here."

"That's how he knew about this place, you mean?" He would send that info to the detective he'd spoken to. Waylon moved to perch on the bed.

"We all think so. I'm flying in and out for the last bit of the tour. I just want it over with. Do you know which condo he was in?"

"They found evidence that he was squatting in the one-bedroom." He reached out to take Chayce's hand. "You want to go to your place in Santa Fe or something instead of here?"

"No. No, this is my home. I may just have a contractor in, make it a single-family dwelling, instead."

"Sure. I bet you could do that in pretty short order and just make the courtyard a central wonder." He wasn't sure what to do. Was he still just an employee? Was he a lover?

"Would you like that? I mean, we'd have visitors, but I want something special for us to share…"

Relief flooded him. "I would love that. I mean, I need a home gym."

"We need to plan. You're going to stay with me, though, right?" Chayce seemed vulnerable. "Not because I need security…"

"I am." He scooted closer so he could pull Chayce into his arms. "In fact, I'm off the job market and intend to become a kept man." Not that he wouldn't be Chayce's security head. He would. He knew his shit.

"Yeah? Oh good." Chayce met his gaze, worry there, a layer of stress. "I think… I think you and I need a couple of days to relax."

"We do. I want that hot tub bubble tomorrow. I'll call in a cleaning crew in the morning."

"I have one I trust," Chayce told him.

"Good deal. Are you good here tonight?"

"If we lock up, and you stay with me, yeah. I'm not letting him ruin my home."

"Then we'll just snuggle and watch movies after we get a shower. I want him off me." He kissed Chayce hard. "I wasn't lying. You're mine now."

"Me either. I love you, and I want you to stay. Full-time."

"I love you too, baby." As wild as it sounded, it was true. Then he laughed. "Man, this is really gonna piss off your mom."

"That's just a bonus, lover. Trust me, she'd be madder if she had to keep paying you."