Proven Guilty Boys in Blue 05 - (6 page)

It wasn’t until Shawn had opened the bathroom door that he realised James hadn’t got up for work. No steam. No soapy freshness. He knocked on the door from the bathroom to the other man’s bedroom. He thought he heard a muffled groan, so he tapped again.

Shawn opened the door to see James pretty much how he’d left him—naked on top of the covers. Except instead of sprawled on his belly, James had rolled in the middle of the night and currently sported some impressive morning wood.

Shawn took a minute to appreciate the view of the thick, straining cock and full, hanging balls between muscled thighs. From this angle he couldn’t see James’ hole, but the rest of the sleeping man was fair game.

The edge of the mattress reached his waist when he approached the bed. Gently, he shook James’s shoulder to rouse him to wakefulness.
“James. You’re late for work.”
James grunted and threw an arm across his eyes. “Go ’way.”
“Work. Fighting the bad guys. Arresting to make the streets safe. Any of that ring a bell?”
James reached down to scratch himself. Shawn watched the lift and pull of Runyon’s balls, the once-over he gave his cock before deciding that felt good enough to do again.
“Hey, there. You know I don’t mind watching, but you might. You’re not alone, remember?”
James pulled his arm down and peered at him with one eye. “Shawn?” he garbled.
“Mornin’, sunshine. Time for work. You can finish what you started after I leave.”
“What?”
“The wood in your hand. Listen, I’d love to stay and watch but somehow I know you’d make it my fault,” Shawn answered.
“You talk a lot.”
“Sorry.” Shawn turned to leave, a smile on his face. Nothing like seeing a sexy naked man to brighten a day.

There was no pretending James didn’t remember Thursday night. It all came back to him with the head-on collision of a hangover. Aside from the comments he got at the precinct, the guys left him pretty much alone. Greg didn’t, even after the captain lectured him about representing the uniform and keeping his act together professionally and personally.

“It looks bad,” Greg told him after James complained about the captain’s lecture. “I know.”
“So what really happened?”
“I got in a bar fight. Really.” James pushed the three suspect files to the centre of his

desk. “I still like the fiancé for this one.”
“Who threw the first punch?”
James sighed, tired of the questions. “The other guy. I said some stuff about his mom.” Greg hooted. “Shit, Runyon.”
“Can we get back to work now?”
“Yeah, just as soon as you tell me why.”
“There is no
why
.” James impatiently tapped the desktop with his pen. “It’s Shawn, isn’t it?”
James tried to keep his expression neutral, but the downside of working closely with a

partner was the ability to read each other.
“Thought so,” Greg concluded. “Did he kiss you again?”
“Fuck off.”
“Why are you telling me to fuck off? Shouldn’t you be saying that to him?” James stood up so quickly his chair scraped backwards against the floor. “I’m going to

evidence.”
“I’ll come with you.”
“Fuck, no.”
“Fuck,
yes
.” Greg clapped him on the shoulder.
James shrugged off his hand and kept walking.
“Okay, so we’re alone now. Tell me the truth. What was it like?”
James stopped in the middle of the hall and faced him. “You ask me this now?” “Yep. You only feel the need to get a pounding when you can’t take it out on someone

else. Spit it out, partner. The kid kissed you. He lives with you, and he stepped over a line.” “It wasn’t like that.”
“Then what was it like?” Greg pushed.
James glanced back the way they’d come. He was glad they were alone, but he also

didn’t need anyone else getting ideas. “Is that what people think?”
“Do you care?”
“I don’t know. It’s just none of anyone’s business.” James began walking. Greg kept pace. “Holy shit. You liked it.”
James turned lightning fast, pinning Greg to the wall. “You ever tell anyone that and I’ll

tell Vicki you were checking out Jenny’s boobs in the gym.”
Greg’s eyes bulged. “Okay, okay. Shit.”
James released him.
“She’s got big boobs. It’s hard not to look.”
James smiled grimly. “You’d think so, wouldn’t you?”
They walked in companionable silence. When they got to evidence, James signed in and

they walked through to the gated area and beyond.
“Does this mean you’re gay?” Greg asked.
James pulled down a box and carried it to the table. He shook his head. “I don’t know

what it means. Quit asking me.”
“At least tell me what you’re thinking. You know I have your back no matter what.” “Yeah,” James acknowledged. “I know you do.”
He collected two more boxes of evidence and returned to the table with them, while

Greg sorted through the contents.
“Remember that guy from the camp I hassled?”
“Powell, the FBI suit. I remember.”
James pretended to be engrossed in the carton he was searching. “I wanted him.” “Wanted how?”
“Wanted like you think I mean,” James muttered. “Knight had him and it pissed me off.

Greg’s eyes watching him. He appeared cautious, but he was listening.
“I didn’t understand why I was so angry at the time. But what they were doing—God, I
wanted it.”
“You wanted Knight to give you a blow job?” Greg asked carefully.
“I wanted to give Powell—I wanted him to make those sounds for me.” James rushed to
explain. His face burned, but he knew the conversation wouldn’t go any further. “And you’re just figuring this out now? Don’t you think if you were gay you’d know it
before thirty?”
“I knew.”
“Well, I sure as hell didn’t,” Greg countered.
“I knew but I didn’t want to know. If that makes sense. The kiss last week made it
impossible to ignore. Don’t get me wrong, I sure as hell
tried
to ignore it.”
“That’s why you got into a bar fight?”
“Pretty much.”
“Now what?” Greg asked.
“Great question. I’m kind of wearing it around for now.”
Greg nodded thoughtfully. After a moment, he resumed the evidence retrieval. “Okay,
then.”
“Okay, then,” James repeated.
“What are we looking for?” Greg asked, completely letting the subject drop. James smiled with relief, feeling his shoulders drop. “Her ring. She was engaged,
according to her parents and her co-workers. Mindy, the older woman, even commented on
the design. So why haven’t we found her ring?”
“Maybe she didn’t wear it that day.”
James pulled out the surveillance tapes from the diner. “Let’s go through them and see
if we can find out.”
“You think the fiancé has the ring?”
“I’m counting on it.”

The rest of Friday seemed to roll a little smoother, and he found himself whistling as he walked through the front door at the end of the day. Friday was the day Shawn cooked huge quantities of food. He stopped whistling, smiled and inhaled deeply when he stepped through the foyer towards the kitchen. He stood for a few minutes watching his room-mate bustle around.

Shawn had tied an apron around his waist. His hair was mussed and it looked like the unnatural tuft in the front had to do with wet flour, if the smear across his cheek was any indication.

Red sauce bubbled on the stove. Shawn sidestepped, stirred and dropped a lid on top. Then picking up a different spatula, he stirred the contents of a pan that had some intoxicating combination of what smelt like onions, garlic, herbs and mushrooms.

The oven dinged. James felt his face split wider as the frenetic movements of the other man erupted into babble as Shawn talked himself through something in his current plan.
The oven had a casserole dish, foil-wrapped French bread and two covered pots inside. Shawn murmured approval, turned the oven to warm and closed it up again.
Yep, it was Friday. Two Fridays in a row suggested a possible pattern, and a pattern of dinner together pleased James immensely beyond the expectation of some serious food consumption. Standing in the kitchen watching Shawn, he already couldn’t wait to see what he prepared next week.
Last week had been Tex-Mex, when James had gone on a date. Now he wished he could do that day over. The week before, Shawn’s first week settled in the town home, had been curry night complete with naan and yellow rice. Tonight was Italian.
The dude could
cook
, he thought with more than a little affection.
“There’s wine in the pantry. Stop staring and let the bottle breathe,” Shawn instructed without looking up.
James wandered to the pantry. “What’s the case this week?”
Shawn shot him a look, his lips screwed up. “Maybe I just felt like cooking.”
“Nope. It’s Friday. It’s your end-of-the-week scramble to figure out a case before the D.A. slaps a deadline on you. So what is it? Maybe I can help.”
Last week it had been a molestation case. Considering the number of charges, it could very well be the same one. Talking about work seemed to ease the tension that had been growing between them. If the pattern stuck, and James hoped it did, this would be a regular thing for them. Shawn made the place feel like home.
He hooked the neck of the red wine bottle and brought it to the centre island. He moved when Shawn reached towards James’ knees for the cabinet door with the serving plates. Like a dance, he recovered his position and tugged open a drawer for the bottle opener.
“You’re chatty tonight,” Shawn noted warily.
“I’m in a good mood.”
“Should I be afraid?”
James grinned. He felt lighter than he had in days, all because he’d decided to quit fighting himself. He knew his behaviour was out of the ordinary, but he hoped Shawn didn’t make too big a deal about it.
“Tell me about the case,” James prompted.
“You’re not going to like it.”
“That doesn’t sound promising.”
“It’s the guy you got on a technicality for drug charges. I don’t have enough to keep him.”
James frowned. “He’s a neighbourhood dealer. We caught him in possession.”
“No, you caught him carrying the legal limit for his Michigan medical marijuana card,” Shawn corrected.
“Carrying paraphernalia and a grand in cash, in the state of Minnesota. We don’t have medical marijuana permits.”
“It only proves he had a grand in cash unwisely on his person while he was managing a medically diagnosed health issue. He’s saying he’s on vacation. At best, he’ll get a fine and time served. The case doesn’t prove he deals. I need a transaction. A witness who’s reliable and not looking for reward money to feed his own habit.”
“He’s going to walk?” James asked.
“He might. I’m trying not to let it happen, but I need more information.”
James nodded slowly. Thoughtfully. “Okay.”
Shawn stopped stirring and stared at him, eyes wide with shock. “Did you just say okay?”
“Uh-huh,” James agreed.
“You’re not going to argue with me that I have everything I need?”
“No.”
“Why not?” Shawn asked, his eyes narrowing sceptically.
“The guys were testing you.”
“
What
?” The spatula Shawn had been holding clattered into the pan. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“No. They wanted to see if you were actually working to represent their cases or empty the cells without cause.”
“What if I’d made that decision and he’d been sent home to keep dealing? What then? What kind of dumbass planning was that?” Shawn stormed around the kitchen pulling dinner together with more force than necessary.
“They were paying attention. They’d have sent the files up tomorrow if you didn’t ask for them.”
“Of all the bone-headed—” Shawn cut himself off to press his lips together. He shoved mitts on his hands and went for the oven contents. “Let me guess, you are the spy who’d let them know if I was close to letting the guy off?”
“Sort of.”
The casserole slammed heavily on the electric eye. “Bastard!”
“We needed to know you weren’t just feeding us a line.”
“Do you fucking believe me now?” Shawn snapped.
“Yep.”
“Yep?
Yep
?” Shawn set off on another round of under-breath obscenities.
James collected the plates, silverware and stemware. He set the table, taking his time laying the napkins until Shawn quit muttering. James hid his grin. It had been a dirty move from the guys at the department, but watching Shawn buzz around like an angry bee was pretty funny.
The thought registered and he sobered. James’ eyes drifted up. He tucked his chin, watching Shawn. Watching him move, the way his hands worked, the shift of weight that flexed his jean-clad ass catching James’ full attention.
His mind drifted to the threesome porn tape he’d been watching the night Shawn had called about the rental. James grudgingly admitted to himself that the men had been damn hot. So had watching Liam Knight with Andy Powell in the woods that day.
Telling Greg and realising it himself was one thing. But it was still a new revelation and he wasn’t sure he was ready to tell Shawn. Even if Shawn featured in a lot of his illicit thoughts. What if he wanted something James didn’t know if he could do?
What would it be like to get naked with Shawn? James’ face went hot and he immediately shut the thought down. Except for the flashed images of Shawn on his knees in front of him. Shawn cooking in the kitchen with nothing on but an apron.
“Dear God,” James rasped. Maybe he
could
do whatever Shawn wanted him to.
“What?” Shawn blinked at him from across the table.
“What?” James held the back of the chair he stood behind in a death grip. “Nothing. I was—I was just thinking how wrong the prank could have gone. I’m really sorry.”
“Right? I’m telling you, it’s a stupid idea to play with the law like that.” Shawn leant forwards. “Don’t let them do it again. I’m on your side, but I won’t be if shit like this continues to be the norm. Got it?”
“Got it,” James agreed. He took a deep breath, trying to regain control of his libido.
“Help me get stuff to the table.”
James panicked. His dick stood at attention. More arousing than imagining Shawn naked was imagining Shawn naked and yelling at him to pull the collective precinct head out of its ass. An angry, tight-bodied, blond angel in full righteous glory. “Uh, yeah. Gimme a sec. The—the napkins aren’t right.”
Shawn gave him a funny look, shook his head and retreated to the kitchen. “Whatever.”
James tried to keep his mind on the food over dinner. Light conversation had never been so difficult, but all he could think about was the man in front of him. Shawn’s dark blond hair, his bright blue eyes, his laugh seemed to absorb James.
“I didn’t think you’d join me at the table,” Shawn said. “You don’t normally. What changed your mind?”
“Sorry.”
“Not asking for an apology. Just wondering what’s up.”
“I figured you deserved a fair shot. I hadn’t given you one.”
“You noticed?” Shawn asked, surprised.
“Yeah.”
“I’m not in the dog house for not disclosing my sexual preferences?”
James speared a meatball. “Nope.”
“How’re the balls?”
James nearly choked.
“The meatballs,” Shawn clarified, laughing, but there was a wicked twinkle in his eyes that told James he’d intended the double meaning.
“Tasty,” he rejoined, smiling back.
Shawn ducked his head almost as though he meant to deflect the praise, James couldn’t tear his eyes from the dimple in Shawn’s cheek.
The fact that James’ napkin wouldn’t rest levelly in his lap became a bigger problem— his cock insisted on lifting it. Thank God a table stretched between them otherwise Shawn would know exactly how James felt. There would be no hiding that reaction.
One thing he’d always prided himself on was his ability to handle pressure well. As a detective, he hid his thoughts and emotions all the time. So why did it seem like he couldn’t hide them from Shawn? It was as though if Shawn looked straight into his eyes long enough, he would see exactly what James was thinking. And that was a risk James just wasn’t ready take.
The porno came to mind. What would it take to get Shawn to touch him? Did Shawn even want to? Except for the kiss—one Shawn said he’d given because he knew James had wanted him to—he’d never made a move. And if he was to be believed, the kiss hadn’t been because
he
wanted to.
Maybe he wasn’t Shawn’s type?
James definitely needed to call Liam. He needed to call Liam and beat the shit out of him. Liam had started all of this eleven months ago. Almost twelve months ago. James had kept track.
“Are you okay?” asked Shawn.
“I’m fine. Why?” answered James tightly.
“You seem a little distant all of a sudden. And we were doing so well,” he finished with mock wistfulness.
“I’m just really enjoying dinner. Mmm, so good.”
“Wow, that’s really convincing, James.”
“I didn’t realise there’d be an inquisition on how much I enjoyed dinner.” James pushed his fork into the lasagne. He chewed the bite, swallowed and met Shawn’s gaze. “There’s something we need to talk about.”
Shawn seemed to brace himself. He put his fork down. “I’ve been waiting for this. Let’s get it over with.”