we can get dirty.”
Despite his stress and worries, and the ache in his muscles from a long day on the farm, Brian’s body responded enthusiastically to that low, sexy tone in Nick’s voice. He couldn’t wait to shed his overalls and boxers and the smells of the day, and just be naked Brian for whatever Nick had in mind.
Chapter 9
Nick woke with a gasp. The details of his nightmare slipped away— Brian, driving something, crashing, I didn’t help him— leaving only the lingering echoes of panic and loss and guilt, and the fast beating of his heart. He tapped his phone, the screen glow shielded by his hand, and saw it was almost three.
Beside him on the bed, Brian lay sprawled, undisturbed. Some nights, it was Brian who woke from bad dreams he wouldn’t discuss, but tonight he looked peaceful. He had his head turned, one cheek pillowed on his hand like a sleepy child. His face had smoothed out in sleep, until he looked like an innocent teen. Brian was still an innocent, by any measure Nick knew, no matter what he’d done, or shared, or had done to him. He had an innocent heart.
Nick, on the other hand, did not.
He eased up off the mattress and out of the room, letting the door click gently shut, and wandered down the hall. Enough moonlight filtered in through the patio doors to light his way, and he stepped up to the glass to look out. Luger rose from his bed in the corner, stretched, and came to sit silently by his knee.
The ragged deck out there was his next project, a minefield of half-rotten boards and loose nails. He was tempted to leave it as part of their home defenses, except the damned dog was going to step in the wrong place and get hurt going out to pee. Nick reached down to rub Luger’s soft ears. Luger was a better deterrent anyway.
Beyond the deck, the scrubby backyard ran a hundred yards downhill to a tangle of poplars and cottonwoods. Moonlight silvered the landscape. The glass door was chilly when he set his palm on it, and the mostly-bare branches against the moon could’ve been a Minnesota forest.
Damon was out there, somewhere.
That should have been the least of his worries, with how much Damon cared for his siblings, but trouble of a deep and bloody sort followed Damon around. Nick would’ve been happier knowing Damon was on the other side of the country, doing whatever the hell he’d done for that three thousand more dollars. Stay away. Take care of Lori, if you must. Leave Brian to me. Nick wasn’t gullible enough to imagine that was how it’d work, though. The man was freaking codependent.
The local vandals were out there too. Not Nick’s problem, except they’d targeted Yasmin once, and might again, and Brian could end up in the middle. No one had been hurt so far, but fire was unpredictable. Clearly they didn’t much care where the damage spread, from a greenhouse or across a field at Brian’s feet.
He’d soaped Brian for a long time in the shower, pretending to wash him for the sexy effect when he’d really been cleaning the smell of danger off that pale, perfect skin. So much for peaceful country living. The sheriff seemed competent, with her cool eyes and no-nonsense style, but Nick had plenty of history with knowing that no one, however competent, could keep the people he loved safe.
Nick wondered why she’d been fishing for information about him and Brian. She was too sharp to believe this was anything but a local problem. The targets weren’t random. Pricey pieces of equipment, with no lives lost? That wasn’t kids, either. Someone had an agenda, even if their goal wasn’t clear yet. He wondered if she’d looked into the insurance angle, maybe one fire for profit and the rest for cover… Not your monkeys, not your circus, not your job. He pulled his mind away from the puzzle, but apprehension still sang through his nerves.
There was no way he’d get back to sleep right now. He wandered around the main room, picking up empty cups to put in the sink. Brian’s dirty boots were tumbled by the door, smelling of sheep shit, and he picked them up by the laces and opened the front door. For a moment, he thought he saw someone move near the driveway, a shadowed figure lurking under the trees. He dropped the boots, grabbing for the holster that