Hidden Passions (6 page)

Chris's job was his life. Being a leader, saving people, gave him a sense of worth nothing else equaled. He loved knowing he did it well. Hell, he loved the excitement. He wasn't about to throw that away just to admit he was gay. Chris
needed
to be a fireman more than he needed that.

He, of all people, couldn't afford to indulge his longing for honesty.

His eyes burned as he watched Tony sleep. The wolf's cheeks were untouched by lines, his slumber as untroubled as a child's. Chris wondered if he'd hit thirty yet. Tony seemed young to him, though he was older than Chris's brothers had gotten a chance to be . . . older than all their years put together, he suspected.

Leave
, he ordered and made himself do it.

One night and done was what this had to be.

~

Tony wanted to kick himself when he woke hours later. The sun was extremely up. Nate's front windows were blazing.

He knew at once Chris Savoy was gone. Tony hadn't meant to sleep that long. The sex had just been so damn good and relaxing. Plus, he'd thought for sure the fireman would want a second round.

Him preferring to shower alone should have rung a warning bell.

Chris's nightmare had
not
been nothing. Tony should have pushed him to talk about it and not let him run away.

"Right," he drawled to the industrial struts on the loft's ceiling. Being pushed to talk always worked fabulous. Just think how he'd reacted back when women tried it on him.

He got out of bed and hit the bathroom--which smelled of Chris's shower. That didn't stop him from using it. Barely less grumpy but squeaky clean, he stumped to Nate's kitchen. Chris hadn't left so much as a post-it to say goodbye.

Thanks for last night. Sorry I had to rush out early
.

"Fuck," Tony cursed.

He'd definitely heard Chris mention a next time. Maybe the cat had thought better of it, or realized the sex wasn't spectacular after all. Tony planted his forearms on the island's black countertop. He could find Chris's number. He was a detective. No one had to know he had it either. Not Evina and not those macho ass-hat tigers. So what if Tony's nature wasn't dominant? He was more than his wolf. He could make the next move if he wanted to.

He made a fist, thumping the counter for emphasis. "The sex
was
spectacular, damn it."

Of course, it might only have been great for him. Maybe Chris's
next time
was like other guys'
I'll call you
.

Tony had uttered that phrase a time or two.

"Karma's a bitch," he said. The flare of humor lightened his mood a smidge. He'd try to call Chris. Once. Discreetly. To prove he wasn't a crazed ex-virgin stalker boy. Then he'd see what happened. If Chris could forget their night together, so could Tony.

"We are done," announced a melodious voice. "Would you like to unload us?"

Tony's heart lurched into his throat.
Shit
. The voice came from the dishwashers. Nate must have programmed them to remind him.

"I'd love to unload you," he assured, though they probably couldn't hear. The Brownies' soap was magic. The dishwashers were just pricey machinery.

He began to empty them, oddly soothed by the simple task. Whether he saw Chris again or not, he'd finally popped his gay cherry. The experience had been good, probably better than most people's. That, he decided, was reason enough to feel all right.

~

Eight days later, Tony was catching up on paperwork in the spell-warded basement of the downtown precinct. The wards protected the squad room from magical sneak attacks, a consideration in a town like theirs. He and Carmine had the space to themselves. No more than once every ten minutes, Tony checked the untraceable burner phone he'd stashed in his desk's locked drawer. Despite his vigilance, the cell refused to give him new info.

No calls. No texts. No fricking two-word voicemails.

He'd called Chris four days ago. Just a:
How are you, man? I've got that thing you were looking for. Get in touch if you still want it
.

The message was the soul of discretion. He'd used no names and no lovey-dovey stuff. Chris could claim it was a wrong number if he wanted. Despite the consideration, Chris hadn't responded.

Could the fireman have forgotten what Tony sounded like?

No, no, no
, Tony ordered when his restless hand reached for the drawer again. He'd sworn he'd call Chris
once
. Shifters didn't forget voices. If the tiger wasn't getting back in contact, he wasn't that into him.

Across the detective squad room, Carmine hung up his phone.

"Hey," he called in Tony's direction. "You free to ride with me to Elfyunk? I need to interview a shop owner."

Carmine was Tony's older cousin, a married wolf with two boys in high school. He outranked Tony but not by much. He had to ask the junior man to do things; straight out orders wouldn't work. Carmine's ride-withs tended to be boring. Important cases rarely fell to him. Carmine was as solid as a fireplug but not brilliant.

"I'll buy coffee," he said when Tony hesitated.

Tony relented. Carmine was a good guy, and Tony had lots of reasons to respect him. "Coffee's on me. As long as you tell a story from the old days."

"Oh I've got stories," Carmine promised. "Your IQ will go up ten points before I'm done with you." The older wolf rose and hitched up his pants. He didn't really have a belly. That wasn't a shifter thing. Sometimes, though, he used the mannerisms of a fat man.

Like it was nothing, Tony shut and locked the drawer with the burner phone.

"Ready," he said. He pushed up from his swiveling chair, grabbing his jacket along the way. A touch of his hand verified that his gun was secure in its side holster.

When he was close enough, Carmine slung his arm around Tony's shoulder. "You okay, kid? You've been quiet lately."

With a start, Tony realized Carmine didn't actually need him to come with. He was checking up on Tony. He was concerned.

"I'm good," he said, touched enough for his eyes to heat. "I've been practicing shutting up so you can dump all your experience on me."

"
Dump!
" Carmine exclaimed. "More like honor you more than you deserve."

Tony smiled as they took the stairwell to the precinct garage. It was at least five minutes before he thought about Chris again.

TONY didn't think it was right that Nate was calmer than him. Nate was getting married this afternoon. Tony was only the best man.

Nate and Evina's engagement had been brief. Barely a month had passed since the big party on his roof. The couple was sure about their feelings, and Nate wanted them to be official before the cubs' next parents night at school. He was comically excited about attending--in contrast to his I'm-too-cool-for-the-room demeanor over walking down the aisle.

The ceremony, once everyone had their tails on straight, was taking place in Tiger Park. Tony was keeping Nate company in the Groom's Pavilion, a fancy Indian-style building.

Unlike Wolf Woods--which was a private preserve for werewolves--the public had unrestricted access to Tiger Park. Today, the twentyish acres blazed with October color. The city's runners loved Tiger Park. It stretched along the North River, on the same side as Resurrection's downtown core. The paths were flat and shady, and the park's stray cat population kept it blissfully free of gnomes. Visitors who relished a slower pace could meditate in a peaceful garden honoring fallen firefighters. Most beloved by the city's children was a slightly inappropriate petting zoo.

It housed the sort of game wild tigers enjoyed eating.

The section of the park roped off for Nate's wedding included two enclosed pavilions, a banquet hall, and a nice grassy stretch for tents. Nate wasn't a tiger, but Evina had decided rather than exhaust the family savings hiring some swank hotel, they'd hold a less expensive, more eclectic celebration here.

The future Mrs. Nate was in the Bride's Pavilion, along with kids, mom, girlfriends, and some of her firefighters--one of whom in particular Tony tried not to think about. Nate would have had more of an entourage except for an unforeseen disaster involving marigold decorations inside the wedding tent. Rick, Adam, and Carmine had left to help sort it out. On the female front, their alpha's wife Ari had whisked their baby daughter to the petting zoo, in the hope that the antelopes would cure her fussiness.

Nate didn't seem to mind the general abandonment. He was dressed and ready, as sharp as a fashion plate in his close-fitting tuxedo. His trademark ponytail had a glass-like sheen only magic could account for. He knew he looked good. The long stretch of mirror in the dressing room had received his brisk nod of approval. His own fineness seen to, Nate turned his attention to Tony's lack of imposingness. Thus far, he'd redone Tony's bowtie, straightened his lapels, and refolded his pocket square.

Resigned to more of the same for the duration, Tony braced his hips on the back of the room's beat-up couch.

"Stop hunching," Nate scolded mildly as he tucked the now-perfect handkerchief where it belonged. "Don't you know how tall Evina's best man is? Do you want me to lose face in front of her tigers?"

Tony knew exactly how tall Evina's beta was. He also knew how many days it had been since he'd overoptimistically called him. Rather than share either fact with Nate, he tugged at his snug collar. "This penguin suit isn't very comfortable. Are you sure that demon tailor did what you told him to?"

"Idiot." Nate smacked his hands away from the shirt. "It's impeccably fitted. And you look great in it. Why are you so squirmy?"

"Why are you so calm? You're about to get leg-shackled."

"Sheesh." Nate slapped his chest lightly. "Just wait till you fall in love."

"Don't want to," Tony grumped. Him shoving the never-called burner phone in the very back of his closet was proof of it.

Nate didn't listen to his claim. Nate smiled beatifically. "You'll fall in love," he predicted. "And I'll tease you mercilessly."

Tony didn't doubt that part. His scowl deepened until he realized he wasn't being a good friend. "I am happy for you," he said.

Nate broke into a laugh.

"I am. Evina is terrific."

Nate's expression turned sappy. "She is, isn't she?"

Oh Lord
, Tony thought.
Look how the mighty skirt-chaser has fallen
.

Nate's face changed without warning. He looked like he wanted to ask something important.

"I have the rings," Tony said, hoping to head him off.

"I didn't doubt it for a minute--though that's good. I was going to say, I went through the Civil Code."

The Civil Code was ten volumes in tiny print--basically a bunch of legal crap devised by the ever-so-superior fae on the Founders Board to keep lesser supes in line. The fae had created Resurrection. Letting anyone forget that wasn't part of their master plan.

"You've lost me," Tony said.

Nate looked awkward. "There's nothing in it to prevent gay people from marrying."

Now Tony was amused. "You couldn't give me time to find a boyfriend before you have me exchanging vows?"

"Oh shut up," Nate huffed. "I thought you'd want to know."

Tony hadn't been concerned, but the fact that Nate had was kind of sweet. The fact that he'd searched the whole ten volumes was impressive. "If only you were gay," he joked. "Think how easy my life would be."

Nate frowned. "It'd never work. You're too big of a slob."

Evina and her cubs were kind of messy, but Tony didn't mention that. When the right person came along, people forgave all sorts of flaws.

"I'm taller than you," he said. "That's why I hunch when you're next to me."

Nate looked at him like he was crazy.

"You told me to stop hunching, but you're dominant to me. My wolf thinks we should be lower down."

"Jesus," Nate said. "Really?"

"Really. You're a sucky subordinate, so you don't think that way, but I'm pretty good at being submissive."

"Shit," Nate said. This of all things seemed to upset him. "I don't want you to think that way around me."

"You don't?"

"I absolutely don't. You're my friend. You be as tall as you damn well please."

His voice was gruff. Tony dropped his gaze to his shiny black shoes and smiled. "Now I really want to marry you," he teased.

~

Chris had never seen his old friend this rattled.

"I shouldn't have worn this," Evina moaned, frowning at herself in the triple mirror in the bride's dressing room.

This
was a breathtaking orange and gold sari with a sky-blue fitted top beneath. A coordinating gold-bordered veil covered her long black curls. His alpha had the coloring and the curves to carry off the outfit. She saw something different, apparently. She plucked at the shimmery silk that flowed down her legs like water.

"I look like I'm costumed for Halloween. I've never been to India. Why did I think these clothes were a good idea?"

"Maybe because you're beautiful in them."

Evina twisted around to glower at her back view. "This skirt makes my butt look fat."

Chris snorted.

"Sorry," she said, instantly repentant. "I'm being a girl, aren't I? Please don't tell the others I lost it."

The others were in the outer room. Evina's hot-as-curry eighty-something mother had yanked them there so Chris and her daughter could have a pre-wedding talk. As best man, it was his job to confirm her mental state. His job as beta was pretty much the same. Whether male or female, on the rare occasions tiger alphas married, their seconds ensured they made it safely to the altar . . . and that they wanted to.

"You
are
a girl," he pointed out, amused by her uncharacteristic insecurity. "Your butt looks exactly how it's supposed to--not that Nate would mind if you prowled down the aisle naked."

"He'd probably like that," Evina admitted.

She was still making faces at her reflection. Chris put his hands on her shoulders. His head topped hers in the mirror. For just a second, he felt like her big brother. He suspected she sometimes thought of him that way.