Tracefinder - Kaje Harper Page 0,88

like bubbles. Pip, plip, pop, plop,” at midnight. He turned to run his tongue around Nick’s rough finger. “I might have my uses.”

Nick slid his hand behind Brian’s head and pulled him down for a kiss. Luger whined in his throat at Brian’s knee and Nick laughed. “Let your damned jealous dog out once more and then come to bed. Bring the champagne. I’ll get the glasses.”

“I can do that.”

When the clock hit midnight, Nick was spilling champagne across Brian’s naked belly and licking it off, one slow stroke at a time, then rising up to kiss the flavor into his mouth. Brian’s glass was on the floor somewhere, and a formal toast was the last thing on his mind. The old year ran out for him in breathless panting and soft chuckles, and heat and tongues and bubbles, in a way that his younger self would never have dared imagine.

****

Nick watched Charlie press his elbow in against his ribs, adjust his weird stance, and place three more rounds in a nice tight grouping on the target. Brian had been right. Charlie was bored. Coming along to the range and figuring out how he could fire a handgun without jarring his bad arm had clearly been good medicine. His eyes were bright, and he stood straighter as he holstered the gun at his hip, then drew fast and fired one round. He winced, but his smile didn’t fade.

They stepped back and took off their ear protection. Nick teased, “That last one killed a cow in the next county.”

“Bullshit. I nicked it.” Charlie reeled in the target to look at the pattern. One shot had taken a bite out of the edge of the target. He pointed. “There, not too bad, and the rest are better than yours.”

Nick couldn’t deny it. He was a good shot but Charlie was better. “I should get Brian out here, too.” He’d taught Brian enough to be safe with guns in the house, but his peace-loving boyfriend resisted any effort to get him actually good at it.

“He hates guns.” Charlie suddenly raised his voice and made it brassier. “You and I, on the other hand, are damned fine shots and we don’t care who knows it.” He gave Nick a smack on the shoulder that made him stagger.

The change in tone was a warning, so Nick wasn’t surprised when Reggie said from behind him, “That’s some decent shooting. What’re you using?”

Nick moved aside, watching as Charlie and Reggie buddied up and discussed handgun choices and the pros and cons of the nine mil that Charlie preferred. When the talk shifted to long guns, he joined in. Reggie was amused that he’d lived in Minnesota and never hunted, but seemed to believe his eagerness to change that now he was in “real country.”

“What about that Neighborhood Watch thing?” he asked, when they’d talked long enough for it to sound casual. “Did you ever get that off the ground?”

“Still working out the kinks.” Reggie shrugged. “A couple of us guys started something up.” He grinned at Nick. “Including Sam, so don’t shoot the stupid motherfucker if you see him out and about.”

“I’ll try not to, but he’s pretty obnoxious.”

Reggie laughed and clapped him on the back. “Tell me about it.”

“You need a hand? As long as you don’t put me on patrol with Sam.”

“Not yet. We’re keeping it small. Doin’ nothing but blowing gas money on it so far.”

Damn. But he couldn’t be too obviously disappointed. “Well, I hope you catch the motherfuckers. If you do want another guy on patrol, I’ll be back here looking at rifles soon enough. Let me know.”

“You that bored?” Reggie smirked. “You buy a nice expensive gun from me, and I’ll think about it.” He left to deal with a customer in the store. Nick and Charlie policed their brass and checked in with the range attendant, handing back the rented muffs and eye pro.

“We sell those here, if you’re gonna be back,” the guy said, pointing at the safety gear. “Hell of a lot cheaper than renting.”

“Yeah. I’ll look at what you’ve got next time,” Charlie said. “Gotta head out now.”

Nick nodded. Every valid excuse to come by and hang out counted. As they stepped outside, the warmth surprised him. “It was snowing. Now it’s fuckin’ fifty in January?”

Charlie’s grin was as bright as the sunshine. “Makes you want to do more home repairs, doesn’t it?”

“Hell, no.” The handyman stuff was satisfying in a way, even when he didn’t actually

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