Chapter Three

The scent of coffee permeated the air. Cutler savored the smell as he enjoyed his scone. He did everything alone. Always had. At fifty, he had long given up the dream of trusting anyone enough to let them close enough to love him. He had made the mistake of loving someone once. He still had nightmares about it. Sitting inside a packed cafe, surrounded by chatting people, these were the moments when he felt the lack of company the most. Not always. Just sometimes, he would look around and realize he was the only person who sat alone. That was why he tried to keep his gaze locked on his phone, reading the news or doing puzzles. There was nothing for him in the world surrounding him. Some people were just like that. Destined to be alone.

A shadow fell over the table a moment before the chair across from him filled. Cutler looked up to find Gable’s smiling face. Cutler’s eyebrows rose. “This is becoming too common to be a coincidence.”

Gable’s smile grew. “I assure you it is.”

Cutler found that hard to believe, but he would entertain this. He set his phone aside. “Considering we live more than a thousand miles apart, I call bullshit.”

“Actually, I live here now. I had a slight career change shortly after we met.”

He had Cutler’s attention. Cutler leaned back in his chair and eyed Gable. “You’ve left the CIA?”

Gable shook his head. “I didn’t actually work for the CIA when we met. Officially, I worked for the FBI back then. I was just a liaison between the two agencies, so I split my days between the headquarters. Then, making a long story short, I got a new boss at the FBI. An order I received before he took the position put me in the path of his wrath. I thought it best to remove myself from the situation and take a job I’d been offered with the CIA here in Atlantic City. So, this is where I’ve been for a few months now.”

Cutler inspected him. He was dressed casually today. A t-shirt showed off his muscular arms and intricate tattoos. He truly was a sexy guy despite his almost military haircut. Cutler wasn’t a fan of anything the least bit authoritarian. “You look relaxed today.”

“I have the day off. When I ordered my coffee, I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw you sitting here. You know what this means, right?”

Cutler lifted his eyebrows in question.

An evil-looking smile stretched Gable’s lips. “You have to tell me your story. A deal is a deal.”

Damn. He had said that. “I can’t imagine this is the place.” His admissions couldn’t be made in public.

Gable eyed him, as if trying to decide if Cutler only tried to back out of their deal or if he was serious. “Let’s take this to go, then. My place isn’t that far. I could make you lunch.”

A laugh escaped him. “I don’t know. By your own admission, I don’t know you. Should I go home with a stranger?”

Gable’s eyes danced with laughter. “I feel certain you can handle yourself.”

Cutler grabbed his coffee and the helmet that sat on the chair next to him. “Lead the way.”

Gable’s gaze dropped to the helmet. “Is the Harley out front yours?”

Cutler nodded. “My midlife crisis mobile,” he admitted with a laugh. A little because he needed to highlight the age difference between them. That kiss haunted him, but he doubted it was the same for someone so much younger than him.

“Good choice.” Gable never stopped smiling. “Maybe we could go for a ride sometime. ”

He sounded genuine. Cutler didn’t know what to think. “Sounds great. Anytime you want. Except today,” he added with a laugh. “I don’t have a second helmet with me.”

“Actually, I meant I have a bike too.”

Great. Cutler was back to being confused. He didn’t understand if Gable tried striking up a friendship or something more. “Awesome. I can’t wait to take a look.”

With a huge grin, Gable fell into a spiel about specs and customization. Cutler nodded along as they made the walk to the parking lot. Cutler put on his helmet. Gable motioned toward a nearby SUV that looked exactly like it belonged to the CIA.

“Just follow me. I’m seriously like five minutes from here.”

“Sounds good.” Cutler straddled his bike and crossed his fingers this wasn’t a mistake. He was too old to make a fool of himself. Gable had him dangerously close to wanting to do just that.

The thing about spending years as an agent was, it made him entirely too good at lying. Gable had known exactly where to find Cutler. He had since the moment Cutler returned from the cruise two weeks ago. Gable had just been trying to decide the best way to arrange an organic-looking meeting. Plus, he wasn’t totally sure what he wanted from this. He found Cutler incredibly hot. Gable had a feeling the guy was intelligent and interesting. He just wanted to see more. Plus, that goddamn kiss. Wow.

Still, he used the five-minute drive to berate himself for immediately inviting the man back to his place. He honestly wanted to know why Cutler had been inside the CIA headquarters and in Alabama, of all places. But he totally understood not being able to talk about work in public. Next to no one knew anything about him, and it would always be that way. That hard truth made it impossible to have a genuine relationship. He wanted someone he could be real with.

As Gable turned into his driveway, the garage door slid open. He pulled into one bay before jumping out and hitting the button on the second so Cutler could park next to his bike. The doors slowly closed as Cutler climbed from his motorcycle and pulled off his helmet. He walked a circle around Gable’s Harley.

“Damn. That’s badass.”

Gable’s chest expanded with pride and spilled into his smile. “Thanks. It’s my midlife crisis mobile. ”

Cutler barked out a loud laugh that made the ridiculous statement worthwhile. “Surely you have awhile for that yet.”

Gable shrugged. “Between the tattoos and the bike, my mom keeps asking what I’ll have left to do when I start worrying about growing old. I tell her I’m already old and then she punches me in the arm.”

Cutler’s smile never dimmed. “Good for her. Tell her to hit you from me too next time. If you think you’re old, I can’t imagine what you think of me.”

“I don’t even know how old you are.”

Cutler’s eyes flashed with humor and intelligence. “Liar. I guarantee you know everything about me you could possibly dig up. Otherwise, you never would’ve invited me to your home.”

“True.” Gable motioned for Cutler to follow him inside. He spoke over his shoulder as he went. “With that said, there’s not much to be found about you. It’s almost like you didn’t even exist before twenty years ago.”

“That’s because I didn’t.”

Gable toed off his shoes inside the back door. Cutler followed his lead and pulled off his boots. Gable led him to the kitchen table. He didn’t continue until they were seated, and he could watch every nuance of Cutler’s expression. Gable was good at his job. He could read anyone. “If you didn’t exist, then who are you?”

A way too sexy smile touched Cutler’s lips. He looked deadly in that moment in a way Gable never expected. While he knew exactly what Cutler did for a living, this was the first time he recognized he stared at a killer. When he spoke, an entirely different accent emerged. “Cheslav Makarov.” His voice automatically returned to perfect flat American. “But I haven’t been that person in a long time.”

Gable’s mind stuttered for a moment. “Why do I know that name?”

Cutler stood. “That’s probably my cue.”

The memory struck. “Holy shit. You’re the son of Antinko Momarov.”

Cutler looked uncomfortable and ready to bolt.

Gable motioned toward the seat Cutler had vacated. “Sit. It’s fine. I’m surprised, of course, but if you’re here and you were allowed to walk in and freely walk out of CIA headquarters, I assume you’re nothing like him.”

Despite still looking unsure, Cutler sat. “It’s okay if you don’t want me here. I’m very accustomed to being the only son of Russia’s most feared mafia leader. I’ve seen and done a lot of terrible things, but I’m not him, nor could I stop him.”

Gable was fascinated. “But you did, right? Didn’t you testify against him?”

Cutler gave a jerky nod. It was obvious he expected Gable to reject him at any moment. “He hurt children, and I could never. The things he did and helped others do were unspeakable. So, I did what I had to do and then I was smuggled to America by a connection in California.”

“Zander Kapra.” Gable couldn’t keep the know-it-all out of his voice. Everyone knew who ran the west coast, and they were lucky it was a good man. Zander also had a hard-on for destroying all things child sex crime related. The guy would help Cutler. In fact, he could protect him in ways no government ever could. No one had even known what Antinko’s son looked like. Antinko had kept his only child secreted away from the public eye. Gable had also been a child back in the day of Cutler taking him down, so there was zero chance he would have recognized him. He had so many questions, he didn’t know where to start.

“Why were you at CIA headquarters the day we met?”

Cutler shrugged. “I was taking a road trip when Zander asked me to meet with a friend of his at the agency. You know what I do. He wanted me to do it for him.”

It was funny the way they skirted around the fact that he killed people. “You must’ve lived an interesting life.”

A laugh burst from Cutler. “Damn. Just call me old next time.”

Gable had to concede that comment had sounded like something he would say to a grandparent. “I didn’t mean it like that. Your life has just been very diverse. I can’t imagine all the things you’ve seen.”

Cutler’s smile fell. “You don’t want to imagine the things I’ve seen.” His expression immediately shifted again, as if becoming someone new. “But what about you? That swim time a couple of weeks ago was impressive as hell.”

A swell of pride rose inside Gable. It was out of his control. He didn’t get praised often. “Top of my class,” Gable admitted with a chuckle. He looked around. “So, I’d planned a disgustingly cheesy homemade mac-n-cheese for lunch, but I can make sandwiches if you’d prefer.”

“I like cheese.”

“Good.” Gable wasn’t ready for Cutler to leave. He was fascinated. He needed to know more.