Footsteps of the Past (Second Chances #2) - Felice Stevens Page 0,72
He cut himself short and shook his head.
André took him in his arms. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Just overwhelmed.” Eyes blurry with tears, Chess sniffled. “I don’t have anything grand like this to show how much you mean to me.”
“I don’t need anything but you and your love. And trust.”
Chess’s breath hitched in his throat. “You have that and more. Everything I am is you.”
His palm rested on Chess’s face. “Every piece of me is a part of you. I love you.”
Voices sounded from outside the family room, and he watched Chess’s face light up at the sight of Elliot and Win. Trailing a few steps behind them, Wolf appeared, looking weary and slightly travel-worn.
“Sorry we’re late, everyone.” Elliot held up Win’s hand. “Had to wait for this one.”
“I hope I didn’t hold you up. We’ve been investigating a drug and prostitution ring, and I’ve been reviewing closed-circuit camera videos and writing reports all day long. Emphasis on the word long.” Win’s tired smile lent credence to his words.
“Damn. I hope you’re going to be able to stay awake for dinner.” Spencer had filled two glasses with champagne and handed them to Elliot and Win, then gave each a kiss on the cheek. “Dottie is an amazing cook, though I can’t imagine her outdoing the dinner she made last night.”
“No drink for me, Spencer?” Wolf leaned against the wall under the arch, smirking.
“I only have two hands, Wolfie. You’ll have to get it yourself.”
“And here I thought you had magic hands. I guess all those stories on the bathroom wall were wrong.” He brushed by Spencer on his way to the bar.
“Well, you can be certain if they were looking for a good time, it wouldn’t be your name and number they’d find. You’re guaranteed to bring the room down.” He turned his back on Wolf to strike up a conversation with Bianca and Quentin. Wolf’s smirk faded, and he tossed some ice in a tumbler and picked up a bottle of Scotch.
“Don’t those two ever get tired of sniping at each other? Do you think it’s something more?” André murmured to Chess.
Elliot and Win joined them. “What’re you two whispering about over here?”
“André was just asking if I thought Spencer and Wolf poking at each other means more than just each of them trying to get a rise out of the other.”
Elliot’s eyes lit up. “Win and I have this discussion every time we see them.”
“Tell me what you think, Win,” André said. “As the outsiders of the group, I’m curious if your perspective matches mine.”
Win’s eyes twinkled. “Well, you know the old saying—which I’m totally going to mangle: ‘Methinks he doth protest too much.’ Both of them try so hard to shoot arrows at each other. I think it might be too hard, and that they really like each other.”
Elliot shook his head. “And I can’t imagine the two of them together. They’d kill each other. Wolf is so serious, and Spencer lives to ruffle his feathers.”
Chess sipped his champagne, his brow furrowed. “And yet it could make perfect sense. Maybe that’s why they act the way they do. Because there is that attraction and they don’t know how to handle it, so they throw up walls and hope it goes away. What do you think, babe?”
“Here’s my take: I’d lay odds, if I were a betting man, that those two are hiding their feelings from the other. Spencer believes Wolf looks down on him because of his casual sexual relationships, and Wolf doesn’t want to be attracted to someone as reckless and wild as Spencer, but he can’t help it.”
“This should prove to be an interesting few days, then, I think.” Chess raised his hand to wave at Wolf, who’d remained alone by the bar with his drink. “Come over and say hello.”
When Wolf reached them, Chess gave him a hug, careful not to spill his drink. “I hear you and André had breakfast together this morning.”
“Seems like a lifetime ago. I had to run up to Boca, spend three hours at a deposition, then catch my flight in Fort Lauderdale, only to exchange overnight bags and take a car out here.”
“No wonder you look exhausted. Big case?”
“A criminal drug charge. An eighteen-year-old girl being used as a drug mule. They caught her and want to put her in jail for twenty-five years. They don’t know—or I should say, they don’t care—that the cartel’s threatening her mother and young sisters, forcing her to do what they want.”