Chapter Four

Seth cracked one eye open and checked the time on the clock. Again. It was only ten minutes later than the last time he looked and still too early to call Rueben. But damn, his dick was hard enough to pound nails, and Seth was dying to know if the butt plug Rueben had inserted the previous night was still in place. For the past two weeks, they started and ended their days talking on the phone. They'd spent hours getting to know each other on a deeper level. Sometimes, they buddy-watched TV series or movies on streaming sites, and other times, they talked about the tragedies that had shaped their lives. Seth noticed Rueben's accent became heavier when he talked about Rosa, Lily, and his beloved abuela. The way he rolled his Rs made him think of Rueben's skilled tongue, but they didn't touch the sexual topics or engage in buddy-jerking for almost a week. Looking back, that seemed like a pretty big miracle because their chemistry had always been electric, even through a wireless connection.

Seth rolled onto his stomach, and the sheets created a delicious friction against his erection. Speaking of miracles. How he'd resisted jerking off when Rueben moaned and whimpered his way through inserting the plug was beyond him. He'd woken several times through the night, aching and hornier than he'd ever been in his life. A whiny, desperate voice had pleaded that Rueben wouldn't know if Seth stroked himself off to take the edge off. Maybe so, but he'd know, and that's what mattered. One could question where his stalwart commitment to his constituents had gone. Seth played a very dangerous game with Rueben, but he couldn't work up the energy to care. The few hours they carved for each other breathed new life into him, and Seth's joy withered at just the thought of losing their connection again. Instead of harping on all the reasons he shouldn't talk to Rueben, Seth had focused on not giving anyone cause to look at his phone records. And he'd even suggested that Reuben should periodically swap out burner phones to prevent the same number from showing up in Seth's records. That was the moment he realized he'd crossed the point of no return, and Seth struggled to meet his reflection in the mirror. The shame only lasted until their next phone call, and his selfishness took over. They weren't doing anything wrong. They weren't discussing the case or plotting to frame innocent people. Seth and Rueben were too busy falling in lo—

Nope. Huh-uh. He wasn't ready to go there yet. They were too busy falling in lust to chat about upcoming trials and potential testimony. Seth shifted slightly in bed and nearly spilled his load on the sheets. He rolled onto his back, snagged his phone off the nightstand, and dialed Rueben, who answered with a needy moan.

"Thank fuck. I'm dying here."

Seth focused immediately on Rueben's needs and forgot about his own. "I'm here, baby." Unfortunately for Rueben, Seth got off on delayed gratification, so immediate relief was not on his horizon. "Is the plug still in your snug little ass?"

Sheets rustled, and Rueben's whimpers stoked a fire low in Seth's belly. "Yes," Rue whispered. "It massages my prostate every time I move. It's kept me hard and wanting all damn night."

Seth chuckled darkly. "Sounds like you moved around a lot. Did you jerk off?"

"No. I promised I wouldn't. Did you?"

"No. I promised I wouldn't," Seth repeated.

Rueben's sigh was the sweetest thing Seth had ever heard. "Let's get off together right now."

"Not so fast," Seth said, firming his voice. "I'm going to draw out your pleasure until you can't take it anymore."

"Already there, sexy." More rustling came through the phone, and Rueben moaned.

"Are you touching yourself?"

Rueben's answering moan sent a trail of fire shooting down Seth's spine to settle in his balls. "I'm clenching and unclenching my hole, and the plug pegs my prostate each time. I could come just from this."

"I wish I was there to lick around the base of your toy."

"Yes," Rueben moaned.

"Slick a finger and circle your hole," Seth instructed. "Pretend it's my tongue."

Seth knew the moment Rue obeyed the order because his breath hitched before coming faster. Rueben's skin would be warm, maybe even damp from a slight sheen of sweat. Seth could picture and feel it so vividly he expected to find Rueben in the bed beside him. He didn't want to think about the pressure in his chest when his hand touched cool sheets instead of a warm, slick body. Seth was reluctant to acknowledge just how much these stolen moments meant to him. It would only make the wanting that much stronger, and his yearning was already powerful enough to take down an elephant. It was safer to focus on the sexual stimulation than the sweet little heart pangs Rueben's laughter gave him.

"Make me come. Please." Rueben's thready whisper was nearly Seth's undoing.

"Soon, baby."

Seth slid his hand under the sheet and trailed his fingers up and down his shaft, keeping his touch light and avoiding his super-sensitive frenulum. Reuben could make him come with just a tongue massage there and very little or no sucking at all. He was adventurous and curious, which encouraged Seth to be the same way. He'd learned that giving pleasure was even more arousing than receiving it. Seth preferred to work Rueben up to a long, slow climax. He closed his eyes and pictured the myriad of expressions that crossed Rueben's face during the stages of rapture. And he was so damn vocal, something Seth never imagined he'd like. Rueben used tone and pitch to cajole, command, and cry out whenever a climax swept him away. Seth bit his lip to keep from making a sound that would give his activities away. He wanted all the focus on pleasuring Rueben.

"Are you touching yourself?" Rueben's voice was soft and silky, and he pictured the smug smile playing on his lips.

"How'd you know?"

"Your breathing changed." Rueben inhaled deeply. "I love how responsive your body is and how you give yourself to me freely and without fear." The sheets rustled again, and Rue cried out softly.

"Are you getting off on thoughts of pleasuring me?"

"Yes," Rueben admitted. "And so are you."

Seth fisted his cock and worked it in slow strokes. "I wish I could see you. And kiss you." Pleasure had never tasted sweeter or been stickier than with Rueben. Seth had always been a fastidious lover until Rueben came along and showed him just how beautiful messy could be. "I want to get stuck to you because we waited too long to clean up." Another craving that straddled the fence between the physical and emotional yearnings.

Rueben whined softly. "I love the weight of your body pushing me into the mattress." His voice broke, and his breathing got heavier.

"Can you come without touching your cock?"

"Easily," Rueben said.

"Describe what you're doing. Make me feel like I'm lying in bed beside you."

"Remember how I rode your cock in that rickety-ass chair on the back deck of your cabin?" Rueben asked.

"Mmmmm." Seth's cock flexed at the memory, and he stilled his hand. He wasn't ready to come yet. "You are stunning all the time, but nothing compares to you naked beneath a full moon. You are flawless, baby." And more graceful than one person should be.

"I'm undulating my hips like that but lying on my back. The rocking motion—" A sharp gasp followed by a low groan replaced words, and Seth knew Rueben was close.

"Wait for me, baby." Seth resumed jerking himself off but switched to firmer, shorter strokes. His precum dripped onto his fingers, and he used it to massage the sweet spot beneath his cockhead. "So close."

"Me too. Fuck, I'm coming. Seth."

His name was a plea on Rueben's lips, and it pushed Seth over the edge. His balls tucked in tight, and his breath caught in his throat as the first spurt of cum splattered his chest. The air rushed from Seth's lungs on the next jet, then escaped in choppy pants. Pleasure still curled his toes, and he was already jonesing for more. "Christ, Rue. I can't get enough of you."

"I know." A hint of melancholy tinged his voice. "But I'd rather have this than nothing at all."

But how long would Rueben be willing to settle for phone sex? If Seth were a better man, he'd encourage Rueben to find someone better suited for him. He was selfish, so instead of saying something to push Rue away, Seth uttered a truth guaranteed to pull him closer. "I'd rather have these stolen hours with you than unlimited time with anyone else."

"You fucking charmer." The grin in Rueben's voice made the risk all worth it.

Seth leaned over and grabbed his discarded T-shirt from the night before, and cleaned off his chest and stomach. He heard a similar rustling from Ruben's end and knew he was tidying up too. A glance at the clock revealed he didn't need to hit the shower for another hour, which made him glad they'd been too horny to sleep. Seth tucked his free arm under his head and stared at the thin rectangles of pale blue light on his ceiling that hinted at encroaching daybreak on the other side of the curtains. "Scooby Doo or Inspector Gadget?"

Rueben sucked in a sharp breath. "Dude, that's too tough to answer."

"Hey, you made me choose between Justified and Animal Kingdom."

Rueben huffed again. "Scooby, but only by a hair."

"Cartoon or live-action film?" Seth asked.

"Definitely the cartoon, but I love Matthew Lillard as Shaggy Rogers."

They continued talking about any random thing they could think of, laughing and needling one another as time stretched on. Seth watched the thin blue rectangles on the ceiling spread to meet in the middle and turn soft pink with dawn. "I need to hit the shower and head to the station."

"I need to clean up and go to breakfast with the crew."

That prompted another playful debate about the proper way to cook bacon. When they moved on to discussing waffles versus pancakes, Seth knew he was screwed in more ways than one. He was hungry, running late, and teetering precariously on the edge of love with Rueben.

The intercom on his desk phone buzzed, and Seth lifted the receiver without looking away from his computer. Kerry had forwarded an article Oliver Hawkins had written for the Denver Post about an upcoming podcast he was writing, producing, and starring in for the paper. The subject at the top of the email read: Did you know about this? Seth had not, which he found both curious and disturbing since it seemed like his ex-fiancé had decided to take up temporary residence in the small town he couldn't put in his rearview mirror fast enough.

Seth hit the Reply arrow and typed nope, sticking to a one-word response, which was all the energy his ex and the project deserved. He gave his full attention to his assistant on the other end of the line. "Shouldn't you be at lunch?" If he didn't nag her about taking her break, she'd work until her blood sugar bottomed out, and that wasn't good for anyone.

"I was just on my way out the door." Her tone was the vocal equivalent of an eye roll.

"Mmhmm. You said that an hour ago. Seriously, Elayna. Go. To. Lunch."

"Before or after I patch through a call from the assistant director from the CBI?"

Seth sat up straighter, even though there was no one to see him. Then, he scowled. What did the Colorado Bureau of Investigation want with him? And the assistant director, no less? Of course, Seth's mind immediately went to his late-night and early morning interactions with Rueben, but he dismissed that outright. It was more likely the FBI would investigate alleged illegal or unethical practices in his office on behalf of the Department of Justice. That failed to make him feel better or clear up concern about the blinking light on his phone representing a caller on hold.

"I'll take the call. You take your lunch," Seth admonished. "Everyone wins."

Elayna's responding growl before she hung up hinted that she'd waited too long. The public could be in danger, but they'd have to fend for themselves.

Seth cleared his throat and stretched his neck to get the blood flowing before he picked up the phone and greeted the caller.

"Good afternoon, Sheriff Burke. My name is Amanda Hines, and I'm the assistant director for the Colorado Bureau of Investigation." Her Southern drawl made him think she wasn't a native Coloradan. She sounded like sweet tea, magnolia blossoms, and cotillions. Very cultured and possibly high society.

"Good to meet you, ma'am. How can I help you today?"

"Please call me Amanda, and this call is about what I can do for you."

Seth relaxed back in his chair but wouldn't let a sweet voice and empty promises sway him. "You've certainly piqued my curiosity, Amanda."

"I was in your neck of the woods recently, and I caught a segment on the local news about your cousin Natalie. First, I want to offer my condolences to your family, as I know that time does not heal all wounds."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome," Amanda said. "I've worked in several fields during my tenure in law enforcement, but cold cases just hit differently. There is nothing more exhilarating to me than getting justice for families who'd given up hope. So, Natalie's been on my mind for a few weeks, and I decided to see what role we'd played during previous attempts to solve her case."

"Minimal." But the fault didn't lie completely with CBI.

"I can see that," Amanda agreed. "We rarely insert ourselves into an investigation, so I feel like I'm walking a fine line here, Sheriff."

"Call me Seth. And look, I won't refuse an offer to assist," Seth said. "The original investigation was so poorly executed that it created a nearly unsolvable case. The next administration called CBI for assistance, but there just wasn't much to work with. The primary suspect had died without confessing, and his alibi witnesses didn't recant or budge from their original statements. The river had destroyed any biological evidence on Natalie, if any existed, so there just wasn't much the CBI could do."

"I appreciate your candor, Seth. With all the attention on her case, I just feel it's a good time for a set of fresh eyes to review the file. Forensic testing has come a long way in twenty-five years. We can get incredible results from the most minute samples now. Maybe your cousin scratched her attacker, and we'll find answers in her fingernail scrapings. What wasn't a viable sample before very well could be now."

"Those tests would steal a huge chunk from my operating budget. That's a level of selfishness I can't abide by. I have to prioritize salaries for my employees and protecting the public over everything else." His conscience popped up like an opportunistic fly to remind him about his early morning phone call that could put heinous criminals back on the street, but Seth swatted the pesky bastard away.

"And maybe a part of you thinks the person who killed Natalie is already dead." Amanda kept her voice neutral and free of judgment.

Seth fought back his rising hackles because it wouldn't get him anywhere. Besides, she only spoke the truth. "You don't?"

She chuckled softly at his deflection. "Let's just say there's room for doubt."

"The eyewitnesses?"

"Yes. If I were a defense attorney, I'd be happy if a quarter of the witness statements matched after all this time. A perfect match is unheard of and can't be ignored. I think we have to give strong consideration that Ryan Ulrich didn't kill your cousin. His alibi witnesses account for his whereabouts well beyond Natalie's disappearance and estimated time of death. They had no reason to lie after Ryan died."

Seth wanted to argue with her logic but couldn't. "What do you suggest?"

"I'd like to send one of my cold case investigators down to review the files," Amanda said. "I'd like them to examine any evidence collected for viable forensic testing and take a run at the witnesses again. It's possible they overlooked something vital because all of the questions posed to them were about Ryan."

"It's worth a closer look."

"Wonderful," Amanda said. "Expect to hear from Detective Shayne Abbott soon."

"Thank you."

"My pleasure."

As promised, Abbott called a few hours later, and they arranged a meeting for the following week. Seth updated his calendar and stretched his legs. "I'm going to grab a piece of pie from the diner," he told Elayna. "Do you want something?"

His assistant looked up from her desk and glared at him like he'd threatened bodily harm to her beloved cat. "I'm getting married in two months."

Seth failed to see the point and stupidly said as much.

"My dress fits to perfection, and I want to keep it that way."

Seth figured the dress did not fit to perfection if one piece of pie ruined it. Then again, maybe she feared one slice would snap her control and make her eat the entire pie. Hadn't he behaved as badly with Rueben? One brief phone call of support had evolved into hours of conversation and delicious debauchery over the past two weeks.

"You okay, Sheriff?" Elayna asked.

"Yes. Why do you ask?"

"You looked flushed suddenly."

It was a miracle Seth's body didn't combust on the spot. "Nothing a bit of fresh air and a piece of pie won't cure. I'll be back soon."

Seth needed to get a better handle on his emotions and maybe put a moratorium on thinking about Rueben while at work. That lasted just long enough for him to step outside the station and spot the pink rosebushes and white lilies in the ornamental flower beds bordered the building. Those were Rueben's favorite flowers because they reminded him of his mother and sister. The longing Seth had stifled came roaring back with a vengeance and still held him in its grip hours later when he pulled into the parking lot at the Feisty Bull. Rueben had shared his plans to go to trivia night with Keegan and floated the idea that Seth should swing by and get carryout again.

"Just so we can be in the same space for a few minutes," Rueben had said before they disconnected.

Seth knew it was a bad idea, and had said as much, yet there he was, striding toward the restaurant with purpose. And so what if he'd showered, changed into street clothes, and drove his personal vehicle? That didn't mean anything at all, other than maybe he wanted to drink a beer while he waited for his food. He hadn't worn a fucking fake mustache and wig to disguise himself. There was nothing to see here.

"Evening, Sheriff," the hostess said. "Eating in or carrying out?"

Seth's gaze landed on a table for two in the main dining room before his tongue could form the words "carry out." The spot would give him an excellent view of the casual bar section where Rueben and Keegan would be. "Can I have that table?"

"Of course." She leaned forward to grab a menu before she realized who she was dealing with. "Habit."

Seth chuckled and followed her to the table. Kerry was behind the bar again, smirking like he got paid by the hour to do so. He wished he could give his cousin a proper reaction but settled for letting a dark scowl act as his middle finger. Kerry only grinned broader before taking an order from a thirsty patron. Seth settled in his seat and pretended to study the drink menu on the table while scanning the darker alcove for the face he l-liked a freaking lot. Brown eyes warmer than a fudge brownie snagged his gaze, and his pulse leaped with recognition before his brain assimilated who they belonged to, proving which of his organs was in command. Seth's dick flexed as if wanting to get in on the debate, so he forced his attention to the drink menu. This act of defiance had to be the stupidest thing he'd done to date. Did he and Rueben really expect to sit across a room from one another and not give their innermost desires away?

When a tall figure cast a hulking shadow over his table, Seth assumed Kerry had ambled over to harass him, so he didn't even look up. "Why don't you piss off and send someone over who won't bust my balls while taking my drink order?"

The responding chuckle was just as familiar as Kerry's, but it did not belong to his cousin. Seth snapped his head up in shock and locked his gaze on the handsome face he'd expected to adore until his dying breath. Conflicting ambitions and a refusal to compromise had put an end to their happily ever after, leaving Seth bruised and bloodied. He'd built the defenses around his heart higher, settling for hookups or unattainable flirtations. Seth's protections held strong until a feisty man busted a Rueben-shaped hole through one side.

"Oliver." His flat voice didn't dim his ex's smile the slightest bit.

Seth knew this moment would occur when he'd read the article Kerry sent him, but he'd hoped for a private reunion.

"May I?" Oliver asked, gesturing to the empty chair in front of him.

Seth searched for a polite but firm refusal that wouldn't draw attention to them, and Oliver mistook the delay as consent. He pulled the chair back and sat down, blocking Seth's view of Rueben. Fuck. Seth would have some explaining to do during their next conversation. He could think of a hundred things he'd rather discuss with Rueben. "What do you want?"

"Now, is that any way to talk to someone you once loved?"

Seth barely resisted rolling his eyes like a sullen teenager. "Once is the key word there, Ollie." He realized his mistake as soon as the word rolled off his tongue.

"Aw, you still care."

"It's a nickname everyone uses for you, not a personal endearment."

Oliver sighed and shook his head. "Right. You don't use those. They're beneath you or something."

Or something. Seth lost track of the times he'd called Rueben baby over the past two weeks. It wasn't something he ever intended because he had always loathed pet names and endearments. Apparently, those same rules didn't apply to Rueben. Seth was coming to understand that most rules—logic, law, or otherwise—didn't apply to Rue. He searched his psyche for the underlying fear that would temper his craving, but it eluded Seth. Rueben made him feel untethered and free in ways he'd never experienced before. The urge to connect with him was strong, but a big hurdle stood between Seth and the warm brown gaze he'd sought moments ago. "You didn't answer my question. What do you want?"

Oliver's lips turned down at the corners in a slight frown. "I'm back in town, hoping for better luck with my interview requests." He wanted Seth to poke and prod to get a deeper answer, but he wasn't taking the bait. "For my podcast." Oliver paused again to encourage Seth to ask questions. "About Salvation Anew's crimes and upcoming trials."

"Alleged," Seth said.

Oliver arched a brow. "Pardon?"

"The crimes are alleged until they're proven or acquitted in court," Seth explained. But Oliver knew this, which meant he'd taken the bait after all. "That's probably going to take two to three years, by the way. So, why are you here now?"

"The paper wants to strike while the iron is hot," Oliver said.

"Still trying to be the next Bob Woodward, I see."

Oliver ignored his dig and said, "They're thinking we can turn the podcast into multiple seasons. I'll start investigating the circumstances leading up to the arrest, and I'll come back for the eventual trial. My first attempts to interview witnesses and victims didn't go so well, but I'm hoping the buzz generated from my announcement will fix that."

Seth sat up a little straighter. "What victims and what witnesses?" Rueben hadn't mentioned anything to him, but they'd agreed not to discuss anything closely associated with the case.

"Whoa, ho ho," Oliver said. "Bringing out the big guns to intimidate me?"

"Big guns? My hands are resting on the table."

"It's the voice," Oliver said, running long, slender fingers over his throat. "Gets deeper and huskier when you mean business." He leaned forward and narrowed his green eyes. The romantic lighting in the restaurant picked up the various shades of reds and browns in his auburn hair. Oliver was still a handsome son of a bitch, but the things that had once made Seth swoon didn't create the slightest flutter in his stomach. "I sometimes made you mad on purpose just so you'd use it on me. It really cranked my gears. We had some good times, you and me."

Seth neither confirmed nor denied. Of course, they'd had good times, but the tumultuous final year obliterated all the good they'd shared. If Seth remarked on that, Oliver would inflate his relevance in his life. He ignored their shared history to focus on the present bullshit. "Stay away from the victims and witnesses."

Oliver leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. The sleeves of his shirt pulled tight to show off impressive biceps, but Seth didn't feel a flicker of arousal. Everything about Oliver was contrived, and it took meeting someone who was truly comfortable in their skin to realize it. "Are you trying to intimidate a member of the press?"

"Are you trying to interfere with the prosecution of a criminal case?" Seth countered. He made a mental note to meet with Lyndhurst about filing a gag order with the judge. People might refuse to talk now, but their lips could loosen the longer the prosecution dragged out. If Oliver couldn't get information, he wouldn't have a podcast or a reason to stay. It wouldn't take long for his allergy to small-town life to flare up. He'd been more than eager to leave it behind for bigger opportunities in Denver, and Seth doubted much had changed in that regard.

Oliver guffawed. "You know me better than that, Seth. I'm not your enemy. I simply want to start off with human-interest stories. You and I both know the attention will shift to the perpetrators when this thing gets going, and the victims will get left behind just like they always do. I can give them a voice."

While that sounded noble, Seth knew Oliver had his eye on a bigger prize. A larger paper like the New York Times, perhaps? Some true-crime podcasts garnered millions of followers, which launched careers into the stratosphere. Oliver would want his piece of the pie, and Seth had no intention of serving it up to him, especially not at Rueben's or Keegan's expense.

"You could ruin their lives," Seth countered.

Oliver's brow shot up. "Like this community did to Ryan Ulrich and his family? The dude got tried in the court of public opinion, convicted of killing Natalie, and chased out of town."

Seth narrowed his eyes. "I had nothing to do with that, and why did you bring up that old argument?" It was an enormous source of contention between them every time the subject came up.

"My first trip back to Last Chance Creek to track down witnesses coincided with the twenty-fifth anniversary of her passing, so it's fresh in my mind." Oliver held his gaze without blinking. "And maybe to point out your hypocrisy." Seth bristled at the insult but let Oliver keep digging a deeper grave. "You were eager to remind me that the Carsons' crimes are alleged, but you don't apply the same rule to Ryan Ulrich. You harbor bitter resentment about the way the media handled Natalie's disappearance, yet you want to obstruct my attempts to give the Salvation Anew victims control of their narrative."

Greer, Seth's favorite server, chose that moment to approach the table. "Good evening," she said. "What can I get you guys?"

Seth unclenched his jaw and offered her a smile. "I'll take a Michelob Ultra, and he's just leaving."

"I'll have the same," Oliver said without shifting his defiant green gaze away from Seth. "And a menu, please. I haven't been here in a long time."

Not long enough. Greer bounced her gaze between them before halting curious eyes on Seth, making it clear she'd follow his cue. He wanted Oliver gone but wasn't willing to cause a scene to accomplish it. "He can have one beer, but he won't be needing a menu," Seth told Greer.

Oliver's chuckle pulled Seth's attention to him. "I'll just order whatever he's having." His auburn brow arched higher as if to say, "Your play."

The same arguments and concerns as before rolled through Seth's mind, and he ceded this round to Oliver. "We're in the mood for the steakhouse bacon burger, extra onion petals, and barbecue sauce, please." Oliver tried and failed to hide his grimace. He would've ordered a chicken Caesar salad with dressing on the side to avoid eating too many calories. "Can we get our Parmesan fries extra crispy?" Code for longer time in the grease.

"Of course." Greer finished tapping away on her tablet and smiled at him. "Anything else?"

"That should do it for now. Thanks, Greer."

"My pleasure, Sheriff."

Once they were alone again, Oliver rubbed his chest like he had heartburn just from listening to the food order. "Well played, Seth. I hope the food comes with wet wipes and antacid tablets. I see your eating habits haven't changed in five years." Oliver raked his gaze over Seth's upper body, and appreciation gleamed in his eyes. "How do you stay so fit?"

Seth wasn't about to answer the question and open the door to his personal life. "No comment."

Oliver huffed out a sigh. "Careful, or I'll think you still harbor feelings for me."

A commotion by the hostess station caught Seth's attention. He nearly snorted when he recognized Kerry's stepbrother, Steven, who became Sven years ago when one of their second cousins couldn't pronounce his name. The toddler's abbreviation became a family nickname that just held. Steven morphed into someone befitting a name like Sven. He was glamorous, seductive, and vivacious. So basically, pure trouble befitting the laughter and hugging going on at the hostess's stand. Sven scanned the room and widened his eyes when he spotted Oliver at Seth's table. He looked like he was about to head over until Keegan stood up and waved Sven over to their table.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. There was no doubt in Seth's mind that Rueben would pump Sven for information about the man at his table, which proved accurate when Rueben called him a few hours later.

"So, you were engaged to Oliver, huh?"

Seth knew the questions were coming and had cherry-picked his answers, but he expected Rueben's typical greeting first. "No, ‘hello, handsome' tonight, huh? We're just going to jump right in there?"

Rueben's soft chuckle caressed his ear. "Hello, handsome."

"Hi, baby."

"So, you were engaged to Oliver, huh?"

Seth couldn't hold back his laughter. He adored Rueben's tenacity. "Jealous?"

"Hell yes." The words came out in a sexy growl that curled Seth's bare toes.

"Don't be. It was a million years ago."

"Five," Rueben corrected.

"Damn, Steven."

Rueben snorted. "I knew his name wasn't Sven."

Seth was grateful for the reprieve and launched into a retelling of how Steven became Sven. It was a short story because Seth wasn't even sure which of the second cousins was responsible for it.

"The origin is way less pretentious than I'd imagined," Rueben replied. "Now, back to Oliver."

Seth let a small groan slip. "My time with Oliver feels like five decades ago, not five years. I'm sure you have relationships in your past that you regret too."

"Of course."

"I'll talk about Oliver if you tell me about one of them," Seth suggested. "Or…"

"I can tell you how I wanted to drop to my knees in the middle of the restaurant and suck you off. You're mine, and I want everyone to know it."

Seth closed his eyes and let his mind wander. He pictured running his hands through Rueben's hair as he sucked his dick. A swift, hot longing punched him in the gut. Seth opened his mouth to join the fantasy with Rueben, but the words that tumbled free weren't the ones he'd intended to say. "Meet me tomorrow."

Rueben sucked in a sharp breath. "Where?"

Seth's heart was in his throat. He needed to take the suggestion back and apologize for getting Rueben's hopes up. "Our special place. Eleven p.m."

Rueben's breath came faster. "I'll be there."

He'd just put everything he'd ever worked for on the line, but breaking rules had never felt so right.