Spark & Blaze (A Guns & Hoses Novel) (16 page)

BOOK: Spark & Blaze (A Guns & Hoses Novel)
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Brett enjoyed coffee while Evan showered. He tried not to enjoy the domesticity of the morning, but it was a futile attempt. Sitting at Evan’s kitchen table and waiting for the man to come down the hall to join him felt too good.

“Ready to go get my truck?” Evan asked before he leaned down and pecked Brett on the lips. The easy affection he felt for the older firefighter came naturally. Touching Brett intimately was just something he did without thought.

“Yeah,” Brett replied and stood to place his coffee mug in the sink.

They walked outside to Brett’s Camaro and both men came to an abrupt halt at the same time. Shock was too soft of a word to describe how they felt at the sight of Brett’s sweet Camaro. The tires they could see were obviously slashed.

Evan reached Brett’s car first and couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Vandalism in his neighborhood was unheard of so seeing the assault on Brett’s car threw him for a loop.

“What the fuck?” Evan exclaimed and looked up and down his street as if he would find the culprit.

Brett didn’t know how to react to seeing his tires slashed. No one had ever fucked with his baby before. He walked behind his car to check the driver side and found those tires were slashed as well.

When he looked over the roof of the car he saw Evan still frozen in shock by the rear quarter panel. It wasn’t Evan’s fault and he didn’t blame the guy. His tires being slashed had nothing to do with Evan. At least that was what he thought before he circled to the front of his car.

Red spray-painted words covered the hood of his Camaro over the black racing stripes that ran down the center of his hood.

He is MINE
.

“Rookie?” Brett glanced toward Evan and away from the hood of his car. “Is there something I need to know about?”

“What?” Evan’s gaze tore away from the rubber of the tires that had several slices in them. He met Brett’s stare, but had no idea what the man was talking about.

“My hood.”

Evan looked toward the hood of the Camaro and could see the faint glimmer of red reflecting in the morning sunlight. It wasn’t until he stepped closer that he realized the red he had spotted actually spelled out words.

“What the fuck?” Evan repeated and was aghast at what was spelled out on the hood of Brett’s sweet Camaro.

The look of shock was so genuine on Evan’s face that Brett was 99% sure the guy had no idea who declared ownership over him. Still, he had to ask in order to be sure.

“You have a bad breakup recently or an ex who could be jealous of you moving on?”

“What?”

Evan’s eyes shot from reading the spray-painted words that desecrated the beauty of the black racing stripes and back to Brett’s. In the back of his mind he realized he had only uttered ‘what the fuck’ and ‘what’ since they had left his house, but sadly those words were the only ones that seem to escape his lips unconsciously.

“No.” Evan met Brett’s doubtful look. “I haven’t dated anyone steady in years.” Evan glanced back at the graffiti on Brett’s Camaro. “Aside from one night stands, who were never repeats, there has been no one.”

“Well, someone must think they have a claim on you.”

Brett knew what he saw on the hood of his Camaro justified his words. He also believed Evan and felt the man was telling the truth. The horror in Evan’s voice at the graffiti and message on his car couldn’t be faked.

“I don’t know who could have because the only people I really know are at the station.”

Evan was sure in his conviction. The people he shot pool with at Bubbalouie’s were barely acquaintances let alone friends or potential romantic interests. The only people he had gotten close to were Flame, Brostowski, and their boyfriends. Oh, and Austin, but he knew the flirty arson investigator was happily taken even if his boyfriend was antisocial.

Brett met Evan’s gaze again and once more had no doubt the guy was telling the truth. He also knew that he had to report the vandalism to his car. The smart thing to do would be call the police, but Brett was hesitant. Before he could even figure out why he wasn’t already calling the cops to file a report, Evan’s voice broke into his thoughts.

“Thanks, Flame. Yeah, we haven’t touched the car and we’ll be here.” Evan hung up and stuffed his cell into the back pocket of his jeans. He didn’t hesitate to update Brett on the call he had just completed. “I called Flame and asked him to ask Tig to come over.”

“You what?” Brett replied before he thought.

The tightness in his chest exploded and the Mac truck that liked to park on his sternum made an appearance. His breath became rapid and he knew he was suddenly in the midst of a full-blown panic attack.

Evan watched Brett go from looking at his car, to him, then pale as if he had seen a ghost. Brett started panting and sweat broke out on his brow. The signs were obvious enough for Evan to realize the man was having a panic attack. He had no idea why Brett was suddenly panicking, but when the large firefighter started to sway, Evan rushed to his side. Brett was scaring the shit out of him, but he snapped into EMT mode.

“Breathe, Brett,” Evan ordered and maneuvered himself under Brett’s arm. “Come sit on the curb.”

Evan started guiding Brett toward the curb and prayed the man’s knees didn’t give out before he was able to sit him down. If they did, they’d both be screwed because there was no way in hell that Evan could keep Brett from crashing down face first into the ground. Thankfully, that didn’t happen. Evan managed to ease Brett down to the curb and encouraged him to lean forward.

“Brett, you’re having a panic attack. You need to breathe. In through your nose, out through your mouth.” Evan rubbed Brett’s back to encourage the man to relax. “C’mon, babe. Breathe with me. In through your nose, out through your mouth.”

Brett vaguely realized he was no longer standing. He also vaguely felt a hand rubbing in comforting circles on his back. However, there was no vagueness about the soft voice that uttered the tender endearment and encouraged him to slow his breathing down. That voice continued to ease him and he focused on it until he had no choice, but to follow the instructions to breathe with the caring tone.

Finally, Brett seemed to get himself back under control and Evan dared to say something other than his coaching words for the man to breathe.

“You okay now?” Brett barely nodded before Evan had to ask, “What set that off?”

Brett raised his head from his knees and met Evan’s worried pale gray eyes. There was no way that Evan would understand the level of panic that consumed him at even the thought of anyone at work finding out he was gay.

Evan called Flame to ask for Tig’s help since Tig was a cop. Rationally, Brett knew his panic had everything to do with Flame and nothing to do with Tig since he had hooked-up with the man over a year ago. Tig knew he was gay because of that hook-up. He also knew Brett was in the closet at work, but Brett trusted he wouldn’t say anything to Flame.

However, there was no way Flame wouldn’t connect the dots about his sexual orientation. Especially, after they were all at Bradley’s the night before and he was now standing, well sitting, on the curb in front of the rookie’s house. His pulse was starting to spike again.

“Brett, look at me.”

Evan’s voice was just what Brett needed to fend off the panic that threatened to consume him again. He grasped onto Evan’s concerned tone as if it were a life raft and he raised his eyes that he wasn’t aware he had even lowered again.

“You’re fine. You. Are. Fine.”

Brett nodded and actually felt his body relax. He leaned into Evan’s embrace and let himself enjoy the feeling of the younger man’s arms over his shoulders.

“Tell me what brought this on,” Evan asked again sincerely enough that Brett was embarrassed.

“They don’t know,” Brett managed to whisper. “Now they will.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Yes.”

“Why? I know you’re not out at work, but they are gay. We work with Flame and I know nobody gives a shit that he’s gay.”

Brett knew what Evan said was true, but he still couldn’t stop the tightening in his chest over being outed at work.

“You wouldn’t care if everyone knew?” Brett had no idea where the question came from, but he felt like he needed to slap Evan with a dose of reality. The guy’s response ricocheted and slapped him back instead. Evan’s reply jolted him hard enough that Brett rocked back.

“Why would I? Who I fuck or who I love is no concern of anyone’s. All that matters to me is how I feel about someone. Not how other people react to how I feel about them.”

All Brett could do was blink and envy how easily Evan embraced accepting his attraction to men without a care of what other people thought. He didn’t seem to give a shit about how anyone would view him at work or otherwise if he wanted to have a relationship with a man. Brett was saved from thinking of a reply when Flame’s F150 pulled up behind his Camaro.

“I’ll talk to them,” Evan said before he stood, squeezed Brett shoulder reassuringly, and walked toward the men that were rounding the front end of the pickup.

Brett sat on the curb. He knew he should at least stand up and talk to Tig about the vandalism to his car since the man was a cop. However, he couldn’t make his legs propel him upright. So instead, he followed every movement Evan made while he talked to Tig and Flame. Several minutes passed before Tig walked over to him. Brett didn’t tense or panic and knew his lack of reaction to the man was because Tig already knew he was gay.

“Looks like Evan has a fan,” Tig said after he looked at Brett’s Camaro and stood in front of him.

“You think?” Brett replied dryly.

“Saw you leaving together last night,” Tig seemed to throw out randomly.

Brett tensed and held his breath for whatever his one-time hook up would say next.

“Did you notice anyone paying particular attention to you guys while you were dancing?” Tig’s question let Brett know the man had noticed his interaction with Evan on the dance floor. And if Tig had noticed than Flame would have noticed too.

“Hey, Brett, breathe.”

Tig’s voice made Brett realize he was starting to hyperventilate in panic again. He forced himself to take several deep breaths through his nose and exhale them through his mouth.

“No,” Brett finally was able to say.

“How about on your way to the parking garage?”

“No.”

“Alright,” Tig said in a totally professional tone. “I need to question Carmichael. You and Flame should go inside and have some coffee.”

“Okay.” Brett nodded before he gave any thought to Tig assuming he would know about where Evan kept his coffee let alone how Brett knew how to make it. After he stood, he also gave no thought to Flame trailing behind him toward the house.

 

Chapter Fourteen

 

 

 

 

Bret
t
made coffee while Flame sat at Evan’s kitchen table. The pressure in his chest was still there, but Brett fought off the panic attack with everything he had.

Place filter, get coffee from cabinet, put coffee in the filter, fill coffeepot, pour water in machine, turn on coffee maker
.

Brett forced himself to say the steps mentally to combat the panic attack he knew would come the moment he turned around to face Flame.

Mugs. Four mugs. Sugar, creamer from the fridge.

Brett took a deep breath, turned, and took everything to the table. He held off looking at Flame until he set everything down and had no other choice. He wasn’t sure what he expected to see in Flame’s expression, but he was sure it wasn’t concerned laced amusement. So, he braced himself for what the man might say.

“Anyone who would do that to a car as nice as yours should be shot.” Flame frowned.

Brett just stared at Flame before he muttered, “what?”

“Your car.” Flame stared back. “Whoever would do that to it is fucked in the head.”

“Yeah,” Brett managed to reply.

Flame’s comment about his car wasn’t what he expected the man to say. Thankfully, the coffeepot took that moment to interrupt by sputtering to let them know their java was ready. Brett retrieved the pot and filled their cups. Silence seemed to settle around them, but Brett knew it wasn’t going to last. And it didn’t.

“So, I didn’t think the rookie was gay,” Flame said casually and Brett’s eyes shot up from where he was staring down into his mug.

“He isn’t,” Brett replied without thought.

“Looked like he was pretty into you last night at Bradley’s.” Flame raised a brow as if daring Brett to say otherwise.

Flashes of Evan dancing at Bradley’s and everything that happened between them after they came back to Evan’s house flickered through Brett’s mind like a slideshow.

“Maybe he’s bi,” Flame continued. “Because I’m sure you know that chasing straight men only leads to disaster.”

The panic that Brett was holding down by the skin of his teeth roared to the surface. He was barely aware that he was hyperventilating again and that Flame had moved to his side.

“Breathe, Brett.” Brett did and finally lifted his head to look at Flame.

“I know this panic attack isn’t because you’re in the closet, man.” Flame smiled while he took a seat across from Brett again. “So, does it have to do with the rookie or did I just trigger some straight guy trauma memory? If I did, I’m really sorry.”

“Which one told you?” Brett asked softly. “Tig, Brostowski, or Simon?”

“Told me what?” Flame looked genuinely confused.

“About me.” When Flame still continued to look at him as if the guy had no idea what he was talking about, Brett continued. “That I’m gay.”

Flame chuckled. “They didn’t tell me anything though I probably should be pissed that I’m the last one you are admitting it to.”

“What?”

“I had an idea you were gay since before I came out last year.” Flame smiled. “But I wasn’t sure until recently.”

“What?” Brett was shocked to hear Flame make the claim and felt his panic rising again. “H-how?”

“You didn’t do anything at work to out yourself if that’s what has you panicking.”

“So what made you think I was gay, then?” Brett really wanted to know because he thought he had been so careful at work and around anyone else who he worked with at the station.

Flame lifted his hand and used his fingers to count off the things that confirmed his suspicion.

“One, in the three years I’ve known you, you’ve never had a girlfriend or even talked about hooking up with any chicks like the rest of the guys do. Two, you never go out with the guys from work. In fact, my invitation a few weeks ago is the first one you’ve accepted to hang out except for a few bachelor parties. Three, you barely paused when I invited you to hang out with me and Brostowski even knowing our boyfriends would be there. Most of the guys don’t care that we’re gay, but they still keep their distance when it comes to hanging out. And...”

Flame paused.

“You barely batted an eye when we invited you to Bradley’s. You hesitated to accept, but seemed more relaxed about that invitation than the one to Guns & Hoses.”

Perceptive fucker
, Brett thought because he
actually
was more comfortable with the invite to Bradley’s than he had been with the one to Guns & Hoses.

“That brings me to number four,” Flame flicked up another finger. “You knew exactly where Tig was sitting at the bar after you walked in. That should’ve been my clue that you had been there before and had at least seen him there.”

Flame paused again and Brett could see the wheels turning behind Flame’s eyes. He braced himself for the obvious conclusion he knew the man couldn’t help but make.

“Guess that’s why you freaked when you first “met” him at Guns & Hoses.” Flame used his fingers to stress the word met. “Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if you guys hooked up in the past.” Flame laughed and shook his head. “You are his type. Hell, you’re my type, too, but I’m getting sidetracked.”

Brett couldn’t describe the relief he felt that Flame wasn’t pissed about any history he had with Tig. He wasn’t sure what to make of Flame’s comment about being their type. In fact, he never really thought about it. But now that Flame mentioned it, they all stood over 6’, so he guessed Flame and Tig really did have a type.

“Back to Bradley’s last night.” Flame continued to grin. “There’s no way in hell a straight guy would’ve put up with the double team flirting Austin and Sy hit you with and there sure as hell was no way a straight guy would allow himself to be sandwiched between those two on the dance floor.”

Brett felt his cheeks flush at the memory of how Austin and Simon bumped and grinded against him. His face became even warmer when he remembered Evan doing the same.

“And five,” Flame moved his thumb out until his palm was spread wide. “You and the rookie were all over each other at the bar and low and behold, you’re here this morning.”

“Shit,” Brett muttered at the same time he realized he wasn’t panicking over Flame’s words.

He didn’t even feel the first twinge of tightening in his chest that normally indicated the damn Mac truck was on its way to park on his sternum. Instead, he felt a strange sense of calmed relief.

Tig and Brostowski might just be right about it not being too bad on the other side of his closet door. Evan claimed having the support of the other guys at work would be a good thing. Just the thought of that support made him realize what Flame had said earlier about being the last person Brett admitted being gay to and that made him laugh.

“Shit,” Brett repeated. “Everyone knew except you and Austin.”

“Oh, I’m sure Austin knows.”

“Fucking Simon,” Brett cursed and was surprised at the lack of heat in his words.

“Nah, Sy wouldn’t have told Austie if he promised you that he would keep your secret.” Flame chuckled again. “Sy was a bartender at Shadows and is the most perceptive person I’ve ever met. The little shit and Austin is just as bad,” Flame said fondly. “Austin probably knew the moment you didn’t run screaming when they started fucking with you in Bradley’s.”

Brett groaned at the memory. “They always like that?”

“Yeah. It’s funny as hell to watch them get guys flustered, but somehow not be dick teases when they do.” Flame smirked. “But, you’re probably safe from them now.”

I was safe from them last night
, Brett thought, but didn’t say so. Instead, he just raised a skeptical brow at Flame.

“They don’t fuck with guys who are taken.”

“I’m not...”

“You sure about that?” Flame interrupted.

“Sure about what?” Tig asked when he walked into the kitchen with Evan on his heels.

“Nothing,” Brett said quickly at the same time Flame totally talked over him.

“Whether he’s taken by the rookie.”

“Jesus,” Brett muttered.

“Really?” Evan asked and sounded more hopeful than Brett would have expected after the guy had never been with the man before last night.

Brett met Evan’s pale gray eyes and couldn’t stop the slow smile that pulled at the corners of his lips. That smile turned into a surprised gasp when Evan circled the table and didn’t hesitate to plop his ass right down on Brett’s lap.

“Oh shit,” Evan sputtered.

He just realized what he had done without any thought to who was in the room with them. Evan was so happy to hear that Brett wasn’t going to treat last night and this morning like he was a one night stand, that he paid no mind to who had shared that tidbit of information with him.

Evan tried to scramble off Brett’s lap and his mind raced to figure out how to repair the hole he just blasted in Brett’s closet door at work. However, before he could do more than lift his ass a few inches off Brett’s muscular thighs, strong arms wrapped around his waist and held him in place.

Evan’s fear laced, shocked gaze, turned to one of confusion when Brett prevented him from escaping. He gave the rookie a slight squeeze before he lifted him up, literally, and lowered him into a more comfortable position on his lap.

“It’s okay, babe.” Brett smiled and didn’t break his stare with Evan. He hoped the man would believe him and see how much he really wanted Evan to stay put.

“You sure?” Evan whispered as if he thought Flame and Tig wouldn’t hear him.

“Yeah,” Brett reassured Evan. “More than sure.”

Tig cleared his throat and both Evan and Brett blushed at the reminder they weren’t alone in Evan’s kitchen. Still, that reminder didn’t dampen the building arousal they felt for one another.

“Since I work drug vice, I don’t handle vandalism or stalkers.” Tig informed them once they turned to look at him.

“Stalker?” Brett asked and never realized he had growled out the word or that his arms had tightened around Evan.

“Yeah,” Tig confirmed. “The message on your car is clear enough, but add in the texts that Evan has been receiving...”

“What texts?” Brett interrupted.

The angry look that Brett leveled on him made Evan shiver. It was scary and sexy as hell all at the same time. And as hot as it was, the possessiveness in the older firefighter’s heated gaze made Evan’s cock so inappropriately hard that it was almost funny.

“I’ve been getting some weird text messages,” Evan started explaining to Brett what he had already told Tig. “They all came from different unknown numbers and I just thought it was someone’s girlfriend or boyfriend who texted to the wrong number.”

Brett could hear a trace of fear entering Evan’s voice and couldn’t help but be curious about what those text messages said that could cause Evan to be afraid. They must have been bad because Evan hesitated like he didn’t want to continue.

“But?” Brett prompted.

“Well, it wasn’t until Tig specifically asked about any strange or threatening text messages that I remembered them. That made me realize the last one was especially creepy.”

“Why? What was different about that one?” Flame asked what Brett was thinking.

“Because it referred to Brett.”

“What?” Brett growled again and tried to keep his anger in check. “When the hell did you get a text message about me?”

“It didn’t mention you by name, but referenced us in the truck bay the other morning when I lost my shit. It came in during our down time yesterday afternoon.”

“That was the reason for your outburst,” Brett stated instead of asked and Evan nodded.

A rapid knock on the front door interrupted any further conversation. Evan went to stand, but Brett held him securely within the circle of his arms.

“That’ll be Silver and Gold,” Tig informed them before he turned toward the front door.

“Who?” Evan asked because he doubted any cops would actually have those last names and actually be partnered together.

Tig just laughed as he walked to the front door to let in the officers who would be handling this case. He introduced Detectives Silverstone and Goldstein after he led them into Evan’s kitchen. Detective Goldstein looked to be in his early forties and was attractive for his age. Slight graying in his dark hair at his temples only enhanced the attractiveness of his Roman features. He had piercing blue eyes that Evan doubted missed a single thing.

Detective Silverstone was younger. Evan estimated him to be only a few years older than Brett. He wasn’t as attractive as his older partner, but still exuded a rugged sex appeal with his broad shoulders and tapered waist. Short, cropped, light brown hair and dark eyes took all of them in.

However, Evan had the impression that detective Goldstein was the more dangerous of the two cops and it had nothing to do with his older age. No, it had everything to do with the way the man carried himself.

Why am I even noticing?
Evan thought and couldn’t stop himself from shooting an accusing glare at Brett.

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