One #2

His words, banged up , were the understatement of the century. How he could even be so cavalier about it was truly a testament to the healing power of time. Because the injury Carson Cress sustained that night in Phoenix twenty years ago under the bright lights of the Fiesta Bowl was nothing less than devastating.

I could vividly recall the hit that ended his football career in one gruesome moment of perfectly timed, bone-crushing, muscle-and-tendon-snapping disaster. Many experts had debated if his right arm would ever be even remotely functional. Lifting a cup, writing his name, had seemed ridiculously optimistic. Since it was a catastrophic injury, of course the footage had been played over and over on practically every channel. I, along with most people, had been sincerely happy he’d been knocked unconscious by the hit. It was for the best. An arm was not meant to bend like that. It had been horrible to witness. So now, watching him use the arm again was mind-blowing.

“That throw was amazing,” I told him, checking on Kurt, who now had a hand raised to keep the dogs away from Baylor. The guy was finally sitting up but still cradling his left bicep. “But what made you think you had to?”

“I dunno,” Carson admitted, and when I met his gaze, I noted again, as I had on our first meeting, that his indigo eyes were really something. An amazing color I’d never seen on anyone else. “Whatever they were talking about went on too long.”

“You’re the conversation police, are you?”

He shrugged. “You know what I mean. From here it looked uncomfortable.”

It had looked that way from where I was standing as well.

“Kurt kept trying to come back to the house, and Baylor kept getting in his way.”

I nodded, feeling concern, irritation, and anger start to rise in the pit of my stomach.

“Kurt put the dogs in with you,” Vince informed me, “so they could talk out here uninterrupted, which made no sense. Why did Baylor need the dogs locked in the house when they talked privately?”

“I dunno,” I answered, my eyes back on Kurt, who was trying to help Baylor stand. The problem was, whenever he bent over to try and assist his acquaintance—I didn’t want to say friend because they weren’t that; they’d just known each other forever—the dogs went to move in close to guard Kurt. Once he straightened up, they stepped back. It looked like a dance. He kept pointing toward the house, but the dogs weren’t budging, clearly not about to leave him. What was funny was that they always listened to him, always followed his direction except for right this second. To me, it was quite telling. They were not fans of Baylor Donovan, and no way, no how, were they leaving Kurt alone with the man.

“We came out here to check and make sure everything was all right,” Vince explained. “I mean, it’s good to keep an eye on all your friends, but with Kurt, you know, after the attack, I never want him to feel uncomfortable with anyone.”

Neither did I.

“It was different before the incident,” Vince added. “I never worried before then.”

“Sure.”

“It’s not like he’s small, and he can defend himself.”

He could. Even more so now, as he’d been taking Tae Kwon Do classes with my… I had no idea how to classify her. With Hannah. My Hannah. A piece of my civilian job, at Sutter Incorporated, was to protect Aaron Sutter’s goddaughter, Hannah Kage. I was her driver, her bodyguard, basically the guy who kept her safe. But that was such a small part of what she was to me, of what she’d become over the years. It felt more like she was the little sister I never asked for but might have actually wanted.

She taught Tae Kwon Do, and in class she had been giving Kurt, along with the rest of her students, select skills that could help them out of tight spots. Just the very basics. The point was not to stand and fight, but to do quick damage and run. Escape was the point, not winning at hand-to-hand combat. But Kurt had wanted to learn more, so he went further, and was now a blue belt. I was happy for him, and even more so for me. The better he was at defending himself, the less I worried. So I understood what Vince was saying. Kurt was no shrinking violet. He would not fall apart if threatened. Not that he had all those years ago. He’d fought like hell then as well. It was the reason he was still alive.

Ten years ago now, Kurt was attacked and nearly killed by a patient. Tobin Wellesley had originally gone to prison, but a year ago, was moved to a psychiatric facility. He was now being treated, and once his doctors were certain he was sane enough to finish serving his sentence, he would be transferred back. From what Kurt told me, Wellesley wanted to return because he didn’t like the drugs and mandatory visits with so many different doctors. He preferred to be left alone. But until he was no longer a danger to himself or others, there was no other option. Kurt, for his part, hoped his former patient received the care he needed. He also preferred him medicated and on the receiving end of mandatory psychiatric therapy. Kurt had hopes that someday Wellesley would fully understand what he’d done. Being a pessimist by nature, I had no such thoughts. I was prepared to disembowel the man if he ever came near the man I loved. And some people said things like that, but when push came to shove, no one could say for certain if they would be able to end another’s life. For me, I didn’t have to guess. I knew. I’d killed men in defense of my country, and in defense of people I was paid to protect. For the man I held in my arms, I wouldn’t even have to think twice.

“Not that Baylor would ever hurt him,” Carson apprised me, returning my focus to him. “But still, whatever he needed to say, like Vince said, why the hell couldn’t the dogs be there? What were they gonna do, come back inside and tap it out for us in Morse code?”

I liked them both, had from the first time I met them.

Kurt had realized after the attack that he needed a complete change of scenery to even begin to heal. Vince had suggested Kurt leave California and move in with him and Carson. They had room in their home in the Gold Coast area of Chicago, and Kurt meant a lot to both of them. After Carson and Vince had changed colleges, Kurt and Vince’s friend Matt Cooksey—who actually worked with Vince now—had been the two people who’d made sure to visit Vince and Carson, and they remained close. I was glad Kurt had people like that in his life.

“It’s funny,” Carson said as we watched Baylor weave toward the house with Kurt beside him. The dogs flanked them, stopping and moving into an alert stance several times, likely concerned with how Baylor was lurching. “When Vince and I first got together and Kurt would visit, I was so jealous because I knew Kurt had a thing for him.”

I glanced at Vince, who shook his head.

“He did,” Carson insisted, slipping a hand around Vince’s neck and drawing him close, tucking him into his side. “But I also quickly put it together that at that time, Kurt had never had sex with a man. It was his interest in Vince, as was mine, that told us both we were bisexual.”

“Wow, Vince,” I teased him. “Turning all the boys on, huh?”

He rolled his eyes. “Ridiculous.”

“Nope,” Carson was adamant. “That’s the God’s honest truth right there.”

“But you got to him first, huh?” I asked Carson.

“No. Kurt knew Vince before I did. I just got lucky that he liked me better.”

Vince was shaking his head again, letting me know that the man he loved was an idiot.

“No?” Carson gave an over-the-top mock gasp, clutching at his heart. “It was Kurt?”

“You’re such an ass.”

“Whatever do you mean?”

“Once you steamrolled into my life, I couldn’t see anyone but you.”

Carson kissed his husband on the temple. “Yeah, well, what can I say. I knew who I needed to make my life perfect.”

“ Perfect is laying it on a bit thick.”

“Not to me,” Carson said sincerely. “I knew you were the one.”

“You’re unbelievable,” Vince muttered, reaching up to take hold of Carson’s face and ease him down for a quick kiss, after which he asked, “May I go and get you some ice for your shoulder? Do we think that would be a good idea?”

“Yes, please. And maybe get some for Baylor as well.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“What?” He cackled. “He’s dyin’ out there.”

“You wait right there!” Kurt threatened him as he and Baylor took the stairs toward us, a dog in front and one behind.

“Can’t,” Vince replied. “My husband needs to ice his shoulder.”

“So do I!” Baylor yelled.

“This is what I said a second ago,” Carson declared innocently.

“Well, he wouldn’t have to ice it if he didn’t throw the goddamn ball.” Kurt sounded both indignant and accusatory.

“C’mon. That was an accident,” Vince deflected. “I dared him to hit the tree, and he missed and hit Baylor.”

“That’s your story?” Kurt thundered at him. “It was unintentional?”

“Of course, that ball wasn’t even traveling that fast. If he’d hit him with his full power from back in the day, that ball would have been moving at between sixty-two and sixty-five miles per hour.” Vince sounded so matter-of-fact. “Now that would have stung a bit.”

“No shit,” I said to Carson.

He waggled his eyebrows at me.

“ Stung a bit ?” Baylor was still yelling, even though we were all together on the deck now. “Are you fuckin’ kidding me? That, what he did, hurt like a motherfucker, Vince!”

“I could see that if he’d hit you in the head.” Vince shrugged. “But it’s just your bicep, isn’t it?”

“Is there ibuprofen in your medicine cabinet?” Carson asked me.

“Yes, there’s?—”

“I’m going to sue you,” Baylor told Carson.

“For what? An accident? A tap with a ball?”

“ A tap ?” He was incredulous. “You hit me with a football in the arm. I might have nerve damage.”

“From a ball thrown by me?” Carson mocked. “Me?”

“Yes, by you. Are you kidding? I know how hard and fast you?—”

“Not anymore,” Carson said with an evil grin. “Not for years. I mean, c’mon, Baylor, every one of my doctors will tell you I can’t possibly throw with any real power. Those days are long gone.”

“You’re insane! I felt how?—”

“No, you’re mistaken,” Carson mollified him. “That’s impossible, and everything about my throwing arm is documented.”

“The hell are you talking about?” Baylor sounded worked up now.

“It’s no big deal.”

“ No big deal !” His face was getting red.

Before Carson could say anything else, Vince took hold of the arm that was a miracle of modern medicine and rehabilitation, and led him toward the house.

“I think maybe you should be happy it was a tap with a football and not a tap with a bullet,” I warned him.

“What?” Baylor gasped.

“You had to have heard me,” I goaded him.

“Is that a threat?”

“What else could it possibly be?” I sneered at him.

When he took a step toward me, Geri was there so fast, head down, teeth bared, a low warning growl in the back of his throat.

Baylor made the mistake of wheeling on Kurt then, and Freki pushed between them, same stance, unsure of Baylor’s intentions.

“Ohmygod, your dogs are insane! That’s why I told you they had to stay in the house.”

“C’mon let’s—let’s just go in. Javi will check you out.”

“He’s an ear, nose, and throat specialist, Kurt. What the hell is he going to do?”

“He’s still an MD, Bay. He can at least tell you if you should go to the ER.”

Go to the emergency room for what?

Baylor charged toward the sliding glass door that Vince and Carson had purposely not closed, leaving me and Kurt alone on the patio with the dogs.

I squinted at him, and he shook his head.

“Carson overreacted,” Kurt said. “It was nothing.”

“It was obviously something.”

“Baylor and I knew each in college—he actually played on the team with Carson back in the day.”

This was old news I already knew from Vince, but I said nothing.

“We were also in California at the same time, after my run-in with Wellesley.”

I remained quiet, listening.

“He moved here a couple of months ago and was happy to find out I did as well, and?—”

“This was before the dogs?”

“I’m sorry?”

“You didn’t have the dogs when you were both in California?”

“No, I had them.”

I nodded. “That’s interesting.”

“How so?”

“The dogs are really smart, yeah? They remember your friends.”

“But it’s been years since I last saw him.”

I shrugged. “Plus, they warm up fast to others.”

“I—”

“Take me, for instance.”

“You’re very?—”

“And Vince and Carson.”

Quick huff of air. “I get where you’re going with this.”

“Do you?”

“Listen––”

“So they never warmed to Baylor.” It was a statement. I wasn’t asking a question because I already knew the answer.

“They—no. No, they did not.”

“Which is why he didn’t want them outside with the two of you.”

“Probably.”

“Or maybe,” I said as he stepped in close to me, hands on my hips, “he didn’t want the dogs out there with you for some other reason.”

“There was no nefarious intent,” he said, really looking at my face. “You know, you have bags under your eyes that look like bruises, they’re so dark.”

“Maybe there was flirtatious intent.”

“Stop,” he ordered, far more interested in me than talking about Baylor Donovan.

“He hit on you, didn’t he?”

“Not really,” he stated, which was an absurd thing to say because he either had or hadn’t made a pass at my fiancé. Not really made no sense.

“Care to elaborate?”

“No.”

“No?”

“Love, it doesn’t even merit a discussion.”

Normally, I would have been incensed that a man had come to my own house to hit on my fiancé, but there was no doubt in my mind that Kurt was treating this like nothing because to him, that’s how insignificant it was. I had all his attention and concern.

“That’s really fuckin’ rude of him, wouldn’t you say?”

“God, why are you even up? You should be upstairs, comatose.” His face crumpled as he looked at me. “I knew I should have canceled this whole thing.”

“No,” I murmured, letting my crutch go and grabbing him tight with my right arm, crushing him against me, liking the sharp gasp I got as I showed him the strength in my body. “I want you to keep all your friends. I don’t want to isolate you in any way.”

“You don’t. You wouldn’t,” he said with a sigh, carefully wrapping his arms around me, both of us enjoying the closeness.

“I’m not going to break.”

“Yes, but when you were in the shower, I saw all the damage…”

“I was cleared to come home,” I reminded him. “Which means you can hold me as tight as you want.”

“I worry about hurting you.”

“Only way you hurt me is by not showing me that I was missed.”

His exhale was long. “You’re always missed.”

“I dunno, maybe you were thinking Baylor would be easier to have around.”

“Honestly, that’s beneath you,” he said flatly.

“Oh, is it?”

“Yes, and you’re insane, and you’re lucky I’m into that.”

I grunted.

“Don’t even kid. You know you’re perfect for me. That’s why I’m marrying you.”

“I need convincing.”

“Annoying man,” he griped before he lifted to kiss me.

I kissed him breathless, and when I finally eased back, he leaned with me, keeping the contact, until I smiled.

“You’re awful,” he pronounced.

“You are less than believable at this moment,” I ribbed him as he slipped his hand up my nape and into my hair.

He suddenly chuckled.

“What?”

Tipping his head, I turned mine so we were both looking at Freki, who was sitting and holding my crutch.

“I wondered why I didn’t hear that hit the ground,” he said smiling. “You’re lucky he caught that.”

“I knew he would,” I told him. “He’s a good boy.”

“Plus you’ve got him trained to catch all kinds of things these days.”

“Yep, Frisbees, tennis balls, cooked spaghetti, French fries––”

“You shouldn’t give him––”

“––an umbrella so he doesn’t get wet if it starts to rain on our walks, the broom when I forget to grab the dust pan, that drone that asshole from three doors down sent into the yard. Big mistake when he flew it too low.”

“Yes, you and your dog are quite ferocious.”

“Hey, don’t forget Geri,” I said, and when I did, I noted Freki’s brother wagging his tail. “He can catch things too. He caught my favorite beer when I accidentally knocked the bottle off the counter. Both of them have amazing reflexes.”

Kurt smiled at me.

“What? They do.”

He sighed deeply. “They do, yes.”

“Then what’s with the smile like I’m crazy?”

“You’re not crazy and I’m so happy you’re home.”

“Me too. Especially since I wasn’t aware that Baylor was on the prowl.”

Huff of breath then. “Listen to me, all kidding aside, Baylor has not made any other advances or––”

“I don’t want him at the wedding.”

“Okay,” he agreed without a moment’s hesitation.

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure.”

“And I don’t think he should be invited back to game night. Nobody seems to like him.”

Warm chuckle. “Yeah, I’m getting that.”

“I mean, you don’t want Carson to hurt himself throwing footballs at Baylor’s arms or maybe even his legs next time.”

“That’s true, but for the record, I had no idea he could even do that anymore. It was amazing—once I got past the shock.”

“Yeah.”

“And not nice of him.”

Did I agree with that?

“Hey,” Javier said, leaning out onto the deck.

I turned to look at him. Kurt couldn’t be bothered, more interested in gently kissing along my jaw.

“Did that asshat hit on you while you were outside?”

Kurt was too busy slipping his hands up under my shirt to give his friend any attention.

“He’s talking to you,” I told Kurt.

Slowly, with a great deal of effort, he turned to look at Javier. “What?”

“I want to know if Baylor hit on you.”

Kurt grimaced. “Not really.”

Javier shook his head. “The answer can only be yes or no.”

“I second that.”

Kurt shushed me, and then looked back at Javier. “Fine. He did. Yes.”

“Then he’s banned from game night, because that’s a shitty thing to do, and especially not cool in the house you share with your fiancé.”

“I agree,” I muttered. “It’s very poor form.”

“It’s fucked up is what it is,” Javier growled.

Surprising to hear the normally mellow ENT with the kind eyes swear. The surprise must have shown on my face.

“What? It is,” he assured me.

“I’m not arguing with you.”

“No more game nights for him,” Kurt stated. “And he’s not invited to the wedding.”

“Good.” Javier took a breath. “So Claudia put ice on Baylor’s arm, and it’s a little red, but I think that’s gonna be about it. I mean, will it bruise? Possibly. Did I hurt myself more falling off the ladder while cleaning my rain gutters last week? Yes. Yes, I did.”

“You fell off a ladder?” Kurt asked, squinting at him.

“Don’t say it like that. It’s not my fault. We’re not all…” He gestured at me.

“What does George have to do with this?”

He scowled back. “Is there anything George can’t do?”

“I’m not a doctor like you, buddy,” I pointed out.

“Yes, but I’m sure you’ve saved more lives than I have.”

“That’s very nice of you to say.”

“Only stating the obvious. But tell me, have you ever fallen off anything?”

I had to think.

“See?”

“Aw, you sound so sad,” Kurt commiserated.

He got flipped off for that.

“So about Baylor’s arm, will he still have full use of it?” I tried to sound serious.

“Is that an honest-to-God real question?”

“He was pretty upset about getting hit with the ball,” I pointed out.

“If he wants to compare injuries, you’re the one with blood in your right eye and a bruise on your left cheek. I suspect there’s more damage than that, yes?”

I shrugged.

“I don’t suppose you’d let me take a look at you.”

“I thought you were an ear guy,” I teased him. “And I have to tell you, mine are fine.”

“That’s a specialty, you understand? I’m still a doctor.”

“Yes, I know. Kurt vouched for you earlier.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course.” Kurt chuckled.

“But so you know, I was cleared to come home by the US military.”

“That does in no way fill me with confidence.”

“I’m good,” I said as Kurt wrapped his arms around my neck. “He’s got me.”

“Yeah, well, that’s probably for the best. I don’t think any of us can get out there to you anyway.”

“Why not?” Kurt asked.

Javier pointed at Bubs, who was sitting on the deck, a foot from the entrance. He was puffed up and making that low warning noise cats made right before they ripped your face off. “He’s much scarier than the dogs.”

That was probably true.

“I hope Baylor doesn’t keep up the whining, because Claudia is this close to telling him what he can do with his whole I-can’t-move-my-arm bullshit. It’s really ridiculous.”

“Oh?” I asked.

“Yeah. Like Carson can throw a ball hard enough or fast enough to hurt anyone anymore,” he scoffed. “I mean, didn’t Baylor see what happened to him at the Fiesta Bowl all those years ago? No one gets better from something like that.”

“Absolutely not,” Kurt was in total agreement. “That’s crazy.”

It certainly was.