29. Twenty-Nine

My pulse raced as I turned into the junkyard driveway. Gravel crunched under the tires, the sound grating on my nerves like never before. Coming clean about me and Dante to everyone wasn't going to be easy. I was less worried about what his bandmates and the label execs thought, and more concerned about how Boone would react.

After working together for so many years, Boone and I were more than friends. More than brothers. He was one of the few people in the world I would trust with my life. His respect meant something to me, and I could be throwing that away by telling him the truth. Once he knew I'd been messing about with Dante while on the job, he'd never trust me on another assignment again.

I ran Bowie's words through my head over and over, reminding myself that Boone had married the man from his last job. Maybe he'd understand, but even if he did, he should fire me after everything that'd happened.

I pulled into my parking spot and put the vehicle in park.

Dante put his bandaged hand over my arm. "It's going to be okay, kitten. "

"I know," I said with a sigh. "But things are going to change after this. Are you sure this is what you want? That I'm what you want?"

He took my face in his hands and smiled. "I've never been more sure of anything in my life, Christian," he said, and pressed a kiss to my lips.

I leaned into the familiar warmth of him, wishing I could pull him against me. It'd been too long since he'd touched me like that, too long since we'd been alone. I'd nearly lost him and the weight of that felt immense. Just feeling his skin on mine was such a relief, more so than I'd expected.

I strained against the center console separating us to put my arms around him and pull him closer, only to let him go when he let out a pained squeak. "I'm sorry! Are you all right?"

He laughed and reached to unbuckle his seatbelt before leaning across to capture my lips again. "Never better," he said, and went back to kissing me.

I didn't think about how we might be discovered sitting there in the parking lot. Anyone could wander by and see us making out in the front seat, but I didn't care. Nothing mattered more than having him alive and smiling in my arms. Whatever happened once we went inside, I'd survive it as long as I had him. In the short time we'd been together, we'd already been through so much. It would hurt to lose my job, but nothing could ever hurt as bad as when I thought I'd never get to see that cocky smile again, or taste his lips, or run my fingers through his hair.

A knock against the window made me flinch. I let go of Dante and twisted in the front seat to find Boone standing on the other side. My heart sank when he took a step back and crossed his arms. He did not look pleased.

I looked back at Dante, who shrugged, and we got out of the car. I was fully expecting Boone to unload on me as soon as I closed the door behind me, but he didn't say anything. He just stood there wearing a frown. Dante came around to stand beside me. Boone's attention snapped down to where our hands joined, but I didn't pull away. Fuck it. Dante was right. We had to be done sneaking around. The only way this was going to work was if we were honest with everyone, including ourselves.

"The rest of your band and all their security are already up in the meeting room," Boone said, addressing Dante. "We're still waiting on the label execs to get here, but I'm sure they're eager to see you."

Subtle , I thought, but if he'd said he wanted to speak to me alone, Dante might've objected.

Dante turned and kissed my cheek, whispering, "You've got this, kitten. I'm with you a hundred and ten percent."

"Same to you." I squeezed his wrist so I didn't hurt his injured hands, and he walked toward the office. I waited until Dante was out of earshot to say to Boone, "I know what you're going to say."

"Oh, do you now?" He scoffed and unfolded his arms, putting his hands on his hips instead. "This ought to be good. Go on then. Let's hear it."

I stood up straight, towering over Boone, but it didn't matter. The man was my C.O. It didn't matter how big he really was. He'd always feel bigger than life. "I'm aware that fraternizing with clients is strictly forbidden in article seven, paragraph four of my employment agreement, and I understand that violating this rule is grounds for dismissal."

Boone arched an eyebrow. "That's it? That's all you've got to say for yourself?"

I folded my hands behind my back and fixed my gaze straight ahead. "If you're expecting me to apologize, that's not going to happen. I'm not sorry for getting involved with Dante. That man—troublesome as he is—is the best damn thing that's ever happened to me. If continuing my relationship with him means walking away from the best job I've ever had, then… Well, it's been an honor serving under you, sir."

He paced back and forth in front of me. "Dammit, Church. You know I've never been any good at this shit. I hate being a damn disciplinarian. Thankfully, I don't need to do that here." He stopped in front of me.

I frowned. "Sir?"

"You really think I'd let you go because you fell in love?"

"But my employment contract—"

"You mean this?" He pulled out a stapled stack of papers and waved it in front of me before ripping it in half. "Words on a page have no business dictating matters of the heart. I can't fire you for finding someone that makes you happy. Do I look like a monster? Or do you take me for a hypocrite?"

Boone cast a long look over at the shop, where Xion leaned against a wall, smoking a cigarette. His jumpsuit was filthy and his face stained with streaks of oil, but that had never mattered to Boone. Xion could be an annoying little shit, but even I couldn't deny that the two of them were irrevocably, disgustingly in love. They were perfect for each other, just as Dante and I were.

"Maybe in the old days I would've been a hardass about all this," Boone continued. "But I ain't that man anymore. Maybe I've gone soft. Hell, maybe I lost my damn mind when I gave up drinking and got married, but I don't really care. This is my operation, and I get to change the rules when I feel like it."

"Sir—"

"Oh, cut the sir crap, Church." He rolled his eyes.

"You're my commanding officer," I pointed out .

He snorted. "Not anymore. I just ripped up your employment contract."

"But you said…"

"That I wasn't going to fire you. But that doesn't mean I'm still your commanding officer." He put a hand on my back and started slowly walking us toward the office. "This thing between you and Dante deserves a fair shake, and I hear long-distance relationships suck. I can't imagine it'd be easy for you two if you had to stay here while he went back out west. Eventually, you'd either grow apart because of the distance or you'd quit and move out west with him. So, the way I see it, I'm doing us both a favor. You don't have to go through that song and dance, and I get to expand the business. It's about time, I say. Honestly, it's past time. We've got too many jobs and not enough people to do ‘em."

I pulled away. "I'm sorry. I don't understand."

Boone grinned. "The Junkyard Dogs are expanding! We're opening an office in Los Angeles, and I want you to run it. What do you say?"

I didn't know how to react to the news. I'd opened this conversation expecting him to fire me, not to be promoted. What could I say but yes? I grabbed his hand and shook it so hard I wound up shaking him. "Yes, of course!"

He chuckled. "Good, ‘cause I didn't know what I was going to do if you turned me down."

"But what about here?" I looked around.

"Oh, I got a feeling we'll figure out how to survive without you." He winked and adjusted his bright blue trucker cap. "Besides, you deserve to live in a house where you don't have to duck through doorways. I do expect you to keep in touch and to check in with monthly reports. And you'll have to fly out here a few times a year for meetings and whatnot. It's not all puppies and rainbows. "

But I'd get to be with Dante without having to give up the work entirely. I might even be able to go on tour with him before officially opening the doors. That was something we'd have to talk about later, but I was pretty sure Boone would be open to the idea, and I had plenty of savings to carry me through. A year off wouldn't be the end of the world.

Now all we had to do was break the news to Dante's label and hope they didn't drop him over this whole fiasco.

Xion kicked away from the wall and flicked his cigarette off into the rocks as we approached. "I gather from the big smile he took the job?" he asked Boone, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jumpsuit.

Boone patted my back. "You're looking at the brand new captain of The Junkyard Dogs West."

"Congrats, Captain," Xion said, though he didn't offer his hand. He wasn't big on handshakes.

I nodded once. "Thanks."

Boone tugged the rag from Xion's belt and used it to wipe the oil streak from his cheek. Xion rolled his eyes like he hated being babied, but I suspected there was a part of him that liked the way Boone took care of him.

"Go on up and give your man the good news, Church," Boone said. "I've got to wait down here for the suits."

I went in past the auto bays and took the stairs up two at a time, only to pause outside the door. A smile touched my lips as I listened to the music coming through it. Dante and his bandmates were on the other side, working their way through some familiar bars of music. He was teaching them to play the song he'd been working on, the same one he'd been singing when I found him half drowned in the mine.

I pushed open the door and leaned against the doorframe, watching Dante lost in the music. He'd removed most of his heavy bandages. Even all the cuts and scrapes on his fingers couldn't stop him from playing like he was meant to. Eyes closed, his fingers moved expertly over the strings of his guitar while his bandmates followed along on the bass and keyboard. The drummer tapped out a melody on Boone's desk with his sticks, all of them nodding along as Dante sang through the chorus.

As the last notes faded, Dante opened his eyes and caught sight of me standing there. A grin spread across his beautiful face.

I couldn't help but return his smile. His smile was infectious.

"Guys, this is Christian." He gestured to me. "My boyfriend."

I tensed, though hearing him call me his boyfriend sent a flutter of joy through me. The others might not be so happy about his casual coming out.

But to my surprise, the band members all greeted me warmly, flashing friendly smiles.

The other guitarist was the first to get up and offer me his hand. "Remi Cordell," he said as we shook.

The drummer chimed in, "About time he found somebody decent to keep him on the straight and narrow. I'm Gabe Teller." He passed his drumsticks to one hand to shake mine.

"I'm Trevor. I hear you pulled our little mermaid back to shore." The keyboardist leaned back and gave me a lazy smile and a wave.

The bass guitarist elbowed Dante and whispered, "He's adorable. I want one. Tell me he has a younger brother."

Dante wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me closer to his side, his eyes never leaving mine. "Sorry, Jake. He's one of a kind, and he's all mine."

Trevor grinned mischievously at me before turning to Dante. "Seriously, man, he's a keeper. Treat him right or I might have to steal him away from you. "

"Watch out for that one," Dante nodded to Trevor before pressing a quick kiss to my temple, making me blush.

Remi kicked out another chair. "Pull up a seat, boyfriend material."

Dante's eyes went wide, and he snapped his fingers. "That's it!"

"What is?" I asked with a frown.

"The name! For the song! I've been trying to think of one all day and that's perfect! I mean, we'll have to change around a few of the lyrics, but it still fits and I like it even better." He was practically vibrating with excitement while the others laughed.

"I haven't seen Dante this excited since we signed him," Jake offered with a smile.

Remi snorted. "Not sober anyway. Are you sure he's not on something?"

Dante chuckled. "Nope. Church and music are the only drugs I need now. I've been clean and sober for over a week thanks to this big, beautiful Brit." Dante sat in my lap, guitar in hand. "Mind if we play through it again?" he asked me.

I nodded. "Please do."

He beamed, and they started playing, pausing occasionally to adjust the lyrics, which Jake diligently made note of. Dante's passion was infectious, and I found myself getting caught up in his excitement. The way his face lit up when he talked about his music made my heart swell with pride and renewed adoration for this man. He was a wonder, and I couldn't imagine myself ever not looking at him in awe. Dante was everything I wanted, everything I hadn't even known I was missing in life, and he was right here. Best of all, he wasn't going anywhere. He was mine, and I was his for as long as we could stand each other, and I hoped to God that would be forever. I could do with a lot more of his infectious joy in my life. If I saw that smile all day, every day for the rest of my days, it still wouldn't be enough for me to grow tired of it.

The doors to the office suddenly flew open, and the band stopped playing as a short, stout man in a Hawaiian shirt hurried in, his face scrunched in worry.

"Dante!" exclaimed the man in the Hawaiian shirt and he darted across the room to hug Dante, sending a surge of jealousy through me. Just who the fuck did he think he was putting his hands all over my man? "Thank God you're all right."

Dante squirmed away. "I'm fine, Sam."

Ah, so this was Sam, the manager responsible for Dante being miserable and in the closet for so long.

"What the hell were you thinking, kid? And you…" Sam turned on me and marched over to stand toe to toe with me. "How can you call yourself a bodyguard after everything you allowed to happen to Dante while he was in your care? You can expect to hear from his lawyers, Mr. Bishop! I hope, at least, your boss has had the sense to fire you on the spot."

I met Sam's accusatory stare, jaw clenched. The tension in the room was palpable, a storm brewing just beneath the surface. I was ready to pommel this jackass so hard, he wouldn't need a plane to fly back to LA.

Dante placed a calming hand on my arm, his touch grounding me.

"Sam, calm down," Dante said firmly, his voice cutting through the room. "Church did everything he could to protect me."

Sam scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "Protect you? Look at where that got you, Dante. You were kidnapped twice under his watch. You nearly died down in that mine shaft!"

"That wasn't Church's fault," Dante shot back, his tone unwavering. "I owe him my life."

The other band members shifted uncomfortably in their seats, eyes darting between Sam and Dante. It was clear there was a history here, one filled with resentment and unspoken words. Maybe Dante wasn't the only one who'd suffered with Sam as their manager.

"Actually, I owe him more than that." Dante took my hand. "Church and I are together, and I'm not going to hide it."

Sam's gaze softened slightly as he looked at Dante. "I'm glad you're safe, Dante. But you need to think about your future. We talked about this. The label might not be happy about all this gay stuff."

Dante squared his shoulders, a defiant glint in his eyes. "First of all, Sam, I'm not gay. I'm bisexual. Not that it matters, especially to you because it's none of your damn business. Second, I don't care how the label feels about it. I love Christian. He makes me happy. I'm done hiding who I am and what I want from the world. They can either accept that, or not. Either way, if the label has a problem with me—the real me—I don't want to work with them, anyway."

My heart swelled with pride and I squeezed Dante's hand back lightly.

Remi stood up, guitar in hand. "If the label drops you, they'll have to let me go, too."

"And me," Trevor added, standing.

"And me, too." Jake stood and Gabe was close behind, voicing the same sentiment.

Dante looked back at his bandmates, eyes watering. Their support meant the world to him, and I was happy to see it. He turned back to Sam. "You tell the label if they want to be homophobic jackasses, they're going to lose their biggest stars. All of them."

Sam's expression darkened. "You're making a mistake, Dante. Are you really willing to throw away everything for one man? Think about this! "

Dante shook his head, his voice steady. "I'm done living my life for others. I'm going to do what makes me happy, even if it means I have to walk away from being a rock star. I don't need fame and flashing lights to be happy. All I need is music and Christian at my side. I certainly don't need you. Sam, I'm sorry you came all this way for nothing. You're fired."

Sam's face turned red as he sputtered, "You can't fire me!" He looked to the rest of the band for support, but found none.

"You heard him," Remi said.

Jake just smiled and waved.

"You're going to regret this," Sam spat. Without another word, he stormed out of the room, his departure echoing loudly in the tense silence that followed.

Despite the lingering tension, a sense of relief settled over us. Dante had finally taken a stand for himself and I couldn't be prouder of him.

Dante turned to me with a smile that lit up the room, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "I can't believe I just did that," he whispered.

I squeezed his hand. "I'm so proud of you, Dante." I pulled him into a hug and a kiss that had the band cheering and clapping. When we parted, my face had never been redder, but Dante's smile had also never been wider. I wouldn't have traded either for the whole world.

A strum from Remi's guitar broke through the clapping and cheering, and he began to sing.

"Goodbye, Sam.

It's been nice to know ya.

Don't let the door hit you

Where the good Lord split you.

Life's too short to dance

To someone else's tun e

So goodbye, goodbye Sam!"

Gabe picked up his drumsticks and started tapping out a rhythm on Boone's desk, and Dante went back to his guitar. Pretty soon the whole band was back to jamming, making up lyrics as they went.

Music filled the room once again. I leaned back against the wall, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips as I listened to the band laughing, playing, and having a good time.

In the midst of the music and laughter, Dante caught my eye and mouthed a silent "thank you," but I didn't know what he was thanking me for. Maybe I'd pulled him out of that mine and come just in time to keep Oscar from kidnapping him from the bar, but he'd saved me just as much as I'd saved him. Maybe not in the same way, but he'd shown me what love could look like, and that my happiness was worth fighting for. So was his.

"That boy's chaos on two legs," Boone muttered, leaning against the wall next to me. "You sure do know how to pick ‘em."

I chuckled softly, the tension of the earlier confrontation slowly dissipating. "What can I say? I like a man who keeps me on my toes."

Boone grinned. "Well, Dante definitely does that. But hey, you got your guy and saved the day, and he canned his management. The chances the label is going to drop their best performing band are less than zero, so everybody wins. I think this counts as a happy ending, at least in my book. Now there's only one thing left to do."

I glanced over at Dante, who was engrossed in playing his guitar and sharing a smile with Remi. The weight of everything that had transpired, but it felt lighter somehow knowing Dante was by my side, now and forever.

"What's that?" I asked, watching Dante with a soft smile .

"Ride off into the sunset with your man by your side for the next adventure." Boone clapped me on the back. "Good luck out there. You're gonna need it."

We shook hands one final time. "Thank you, Boone. For everything."

"I know you'll make me proud." He patted my arm.

The song ended, and Dante handed his borrowed guitar off to Remi before coming over to me. "The guys want to know if you want to go to In-N-Out for some burgers."

I frowned. "What's an In-N-Out?"

"Only the best cheeseburgers in the country, man," Jake scoffed.

Remi agreed with a grunt. "Debatable, since they're not all over the country."

"We'll have to take the jet," Dante said with a shrug. "But I'm sure we can touch down in L.A. before they close. If we call ahead, they'll even clear the restaurant for us, but I think it'd be nice to just…show up. Sam would hate it. We might need someone to help with security, though." He gave my arm a light punch. "How about it, kitten? Unless you've got another job lined up?"

I smiled and shook my head. "Nope. I'm all yours now."

He laughed and kissed my cheek. "You've always been mine. You just didn't know it yet."