Long Shadow (Veiled Intentions #2) - Elle Keaton Page 0,16
Niall was quickly brushing his lips across Mat’s, nearly drowning in the impulse to take more but retreating because he’d forgotten to breathe. His heart was pounding like he’d run a marathon. Mat looked stunned, which made Niall feel a little pleased and less like he was the only one who had no idea what he was doing.
“Come on, dog,” Niall said roughly as he made his way back to the front door.
Fenrir padded along next to him, Mat’s footfalls quiet against the thin carpet behind them.
Coming around them, Matt unlocked the door and pushed it open so Niall and Fenrir could slide out into the night.
“I’ll keep an eye out for that camper,” Mat said.
Niall turned to meet his clear gaze. There was no mockery lurking in it, just the truth: Mat took Niall’s concern seriously.
“Thanks.”
He sketched out a farewell and made his way out to his car. For once it wasn’t raining, although the streets were still wet.
The draw between them was powerful. Had it always been there? Had he been attracted to Mat back when they were in school together? Niall had put so much of his childhood behind him, locked it in a mental box, that he wasn’t sure if he could remember. Or if he wanted to. Maybe it was better to keep those memories where they were, tucked away inside his head.
His brain had other ideas; Mat starred in his dreams that night. Mat back when he and Niall were scrawny teens in high school. Mat trying to protect Niall even though Niall was two grades ahead. Niall knew he was dreaming, but still he kept trying to tell Mat he wasn’t worth it, he’d never be worth protecting. He was too damaged, broken beyond repair.
“I’m not trying to fix you,” dream Mat replied. “You have to do that yourself.”
The dream shifted to the present in that jarring way dreams do; they were at the beach, and Mat was kissing him—or Niall was kissing Mat, it hardly mattered. Their bodies pressed against each other so that Niall couldn’t tell where he ended and Mat began. The sticky tanginess of the salt air surrounded them, wrapping them in a protective cocoon.
Niall jerked awake, his heart pounding uncomfortably, his bare skin hot and overly sensitive, the scratchy motel blanket snagging on his nipples. It took him a long time to get back to sleep.
Six
Mat
Mat stood next to the glass doors for a few minutes, watching Niall’s car pull out of the parking lot, turn right, and head up the hill toward the Orca Motel, his brake lights reflecting blurry red against the damp pavement. Lifting his hand, Mat touched his mouth where Niall’s lips had brushed against his own. He hadn’t imagined the kiss, as quick as it had been. It had been real and made something a lot like optimism bloom in his chest.
“Huh.”
Back at his desk, Mat returned to poring over the paperwork Birdy had given him earlier that day—or maybe it was yesterday by that point. The data was there, and she was right: the numbers did not add up satisfactorily. But before he acted, Mat wanted to know if Duane could explain himself, if there was a possible explanation as to where money was coming from for the expensive equipment Birdy had seen in his office and the fancy watercraft. Maybe he had inherited money or made good on an investment? There could be a perfectly reasonable answer.
“This sucks,” Mat grumbled as he flipped through the pages.
It was his own damn fault, letting Duane continue to run things the same way Mat’s father had let him. Mat should’ve come in and demanded an audit right away and made sure everything in marine was on the up and up—although marine rescue didn’t run under the same authority as the sheriff’s department. It was kind of a satellite, with Duane giving yearly updates to the island council.
Nearly a decade ago, Mat had been reeling from his father’s death and shocked he’d been elected to follow in Sean Sr.’s footsteps. Asking for more change had seemed… wrong or like rocking the boat. So he hadn’t, and things had continued as they were with marine rescue only having minor oversight. Until now, when the council wanted to expand the sheriff’s responsibilities.
The printed words and spreadsheet numbers began shifting in and out of focus. Mat rubbed his watery eyes with the heel of his hand.