

Riptide Publishing

PO Box 1537

Burnsville, NC 28714

www.riptidepublishing.com

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. All person(s) depicted on the cover are model(s) used for illustrative purposes only.

Perfect Kiss

Copyright © 2019 by AG Meiers

Smashwords Edition

Cover art: L.C. Chase, lcchase.com/design-portfolio.html

Editor: Carole-ann Galloway

Layout: L.C. Chase, lcchase.com

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher, and where permitted by law. Reviewers may quote brief passages in a review. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact Riptide Publishing at the mailing address above, at Riptidepublishing.com, or at marketing@riptidepublishing.com.

ISBN: 978-1-62649-923-2

First edition

December, 2019

ABOUT THE EBOOK YOU HAVE PURCHASED:

We thank you kindly for purchasing this title. Your nonrefundable purchase legally allows you to replicate this file for your own personal reading only, on your own personal computer or device. Unlike paperback books, sharing ebooks is the same as stealing them. Please do not violate the author's copyright and harm their livelihood by sharing or distributing this book, in part or whole, for a fee or free, without the prior written permission of both the publisher and the copyright owner. We love that you love to share the things you love, but sharing ebooks—whether with joyous or malicious intent—steals royalties from authors' pockets and makes it difficult, if not impossible, for them to be able to afford to keep writing the stories you love. Piracy has sent more than one beloved series the way of the dodo. We appreciate your honesty and support.

About Perfect Kiss

New Year's Eve

New Year's Day

Day After New Year's

Dear Reader

Acknowledgments

Also by AG Meiers

About the Author

More Like This

So far, Detective David Gallagher has managed to keep his private life . . . well, private. There has always been some gossip about his sexual orientation, but it's nothing the even-tempered cop couldn't handle. All that changes in a flash when a new fire inspector joins his task force. With a few unfortunate remarks, the openly gay Travis Sommer outs David in a bar filled with their colleagues. Suddenly David can't even get coffee without people whispering. To make matters worse, the two men have to work together for months to bring down a dangerous arsonist.

Finally, the case is closed. It's New Year's Eve—perfect time for a new start, but David's anger burns as hot as ever. Rumors have reached his family, and after a tough day, David is ready to blow off some steam. But all bets are off when he runs into the one man who seems determined to cause havoc in David's life.

There is just something about Travis Sommer that makes it hard to stay away, and David has to decide if he wants to hold on to his anger or give the new year a chance.

Crown Council Witherspoon was clearly impressed. Tucked into a corner of the prosecutor's office, David watched the old man humming with approval at Travis Sommer's account of the arsonist case scheduled to go on trial in a few weeks.

Sommer would make a solid witness on the stand—just the right contradiction between nerdy expert and alpha-male firefighter. Articulate with a deep, pleasant voice. Old enough to rock the laugh lines framing his intelligent gray eyes. The man oozed credibility. Whether or not David liked it, he had to admit professionally the fire inspector was top-notch. A solid addition to their small community of first responders.

However, personally Travis Sommer had turned David's life into a shit-show.

"Anything you would like to add, Detective?" Sommer must have caught David's dagger stare.

"No, not at this point," David replied smoothly—covering up the fact that he hadn't listened to a word said in the room for the last ten, fifteen minutes.

Sommer raised an eyebrow and David glared back, daring him to make a comment.

Witherspoon cleared his throat. "Is there a final assessment of the property damage?"

David quickly put on a fake smile and waved at Sommer to continue. The late-afternoon light filtered through the dusty blinds, allowing him to hide in the shadows of the cramped office. With a subtle shake of his head, Sommer pulled out another folder from the pile in front of him and started on the long list of destruction this fire devil had left in his wake.

In all fairness, David should probably stop being a jerk since Sommer was saving his ass here. No way in hell could he have presented the case in the same succinct manner with his mind all over the place after meeting his mom and sister. But it had been Sommer's rash actions that had forced the disastrous lunch with his family. Ever since the fight, rumors had circled him like vultures. David couldn't get a fucking coffee without people whispering. Talk had been vicious—denial futile. Naively, David had hoped that by ignoring the rumors they would go away, but this morning, he'd received a frantic text from his sister. You need to talk to Mom. She's freaking out. His mother had gone through so much with his dad, but David's attempt to save her from another rumor-driven scandal had failed.

"No. No, it's not true. People have it wrong. It can't be true." His mom looked at David beseechingly. She was sitting across from him at the small kitchen table in his childhood home, tugging and pulling on her wedding band. The ring she still insisted on wearing even though his father had left years ago.

"Mom, I know I should have said something much earlier. I know the rumor mill is going crazy—" since that fucking hothead Travis Sommer had opened his stupid mouth "—and I'm so sorry that you had to hear it from others first, but it's true. I'm gay. I—"

"No, I told everybody they are wrong. I told them I know my son. It's not true."

"I—"

"You dated girls. You took Ella Klein to junior prom."

David implored his sister for help, but Amy looked as shocked as he felt. How could Mom not have known—not have suspected? Gently, David tried again. "Junior prom, Mom—I haven't brought a girl home since then."

"You're not gay. You're not like him. I know you—I know my son." She burst into tears at that point. When Amy tried to reach out, she jumped up and ran out of the room.

"You're not like him." The shock waves of his mom's words still shuddered through his system. Maybe David should have expected her to react this way—to make a connection to what happened with his father, but in the moment he'd felt blindsided.

He wished he could have waited—taken the time to prepare her. Started with a few well-placed clues instead of being forced to rush into it. But a part of him had been convinced he was sharing old news. It wasn't only the rumors; there was also the complete lack of girlfriends for the last fifteen years. How could she not have known?

Fuck. David rubbed his hand over his forehead, trying to fight off the headache forming behind his temples. A shadow passing over him made him look up. Sommer was standing right in front of him. David jumped up from his chair so quickly that it banged against the metal filing cabinet behind him with a loud clank. There was a stunned silence in the room. Sommer took a few steps back.

"Sorry." David's voice sounded foreign to him. Rough. Breathy. He knew Sommer's eyes were on him, but instead he focused on Witherspoon. "Are there any more questions?"

"No, I think we covered it all—at least for now," the old man replied. "I have to say excellent work. It's great to see the local police and fire department work together to stop a dangerous criminal. The evidence you both have carried together is impressive."

"Detective Gallagher was leading the joint task force," Sommer said readily. "He made it easy for the rest of us to follow and—"

"Oh, no, honestly, I've got to give the fire inspector all the credit," David interrupted. He didn't need any handouts from Sommer. No fucking way. "He was the one who spent hours crawling through ashes and debris. Putting all the pieces together before making any announcements is a trait of a good investigator."

The sharp inhale behind him told David that Sommer understood the underhanded jab, while an oblivious Witherspoon smiled approvingly. David felt a twitch of guilt because the fire inspector actually had been the one to finally crack the case. Sommer had been relentless during the twelve-week investigation. David might have been leading the joint task force, and he'd made the final arrest, but without Sommer's expertise and persistence the perp would probably still be out there.

"Well, thanks again for coming over on the very last day of the year. I'm sure you gentlemen have plans for New Year's Eve and can't wait to get out of here," Witherspoon joked.

"No problem. I'm glad this case is moving along so quickly, and we'll get an early trial date." Sommer opened the door and held it for David, who barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes. Sommer's misplaced chivalry caused an awkward dance in the tiny space. Grudgingly, David appreciated the other man's aftershave—spicy with a vanilla undertone. David brushed against Sommer's shoulder as he passed, and the casual touch sent sparks of awareness through him. His body never seemed to get the memo that this ship had sailed.

Damn. I can't wait to get out of here. Get a hot shower. A cold drink.

After a quick goodbye from Witherspoon, they walked to the elevator in silence. David's phone buzzed in his pocket. He took a look, hoping his mom had replied to his earlier text—his apology for leaving her because he had to go to work—but it was only Amy checking up on him. This wasn't her first call in the short time since lunch. David knew he would have to answer his phone eventually or she would show up on his doorstep.

"Any plans for tonight?" Sommer asked as he pressed the elevator button.

"Not sure it's any of your business," David shot back.

Sommer blinked. "Hey, what's up with you? Are you mad about something? You seemed . . . distracted just now with Witherspoon."

Distracted? No kidding. His mom's devastation flashed before David's eyes.

"Is everything okay?" Sommer asked again. David only hammered the elevator button a few more times.

"C'mon, I thought we had moved beyond— Recently, you seemed less pissed off at me—"

"Listen, Sommer, spelling it out for you: We work together. Fine. But now the case is closed and there is no real reason for friendly chitchat."

"What? Friendly chitchat. We're way past that. You helped me at the hospital—"

"That was work."

"Bullshit. I called in the middle of the night and you came." The slight disbelief in Sommer's voice that David had actually taken his call in the middle of the night grated on David's nerves.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," he growled. "You called me to talk to a victim who got viciously beaten. Of course I came."

Sommer stepped back, a frown marring his face. "You could have told me to reach out to somebody else at the station. I thought—"

"I should have," David snapped. Relief swept through him as the old elevator finally rumbled to life. Still, he pressed the button again.

"Gallagher, are you okay?" There was that trace of concern again that grated on David's senses. "What happened—"

"A bar brawl happened."

Sommer's whole body jerked back. "Fuck, isn't there a way to get past that?" His voice crackled with frustration.

"Excuse me?" David glared at him—dared him to repeat those words.

Sommer's hands balled to fists as he stepped closer. His eyes narrowed. And there it was—Travis Sommer's famous temper. He'd never back down from a challenge. "I know I fucked up, okay? I should have kept my mouth shut. Like an idiot, I walked into the trap that asshole laid out—"

"Right, you should have kept your mouth shut. And also instead of starting World War III that night, why didn't you just walk away? You know—simply think before you jump. Easy as that."

"I was trying to explain and apologize—"

"I don't care. I. Don't. Fucking. Care." David took two steps back. "I'll take the stairs."

He turned and ripped the door to the emergency staircase open. He almost ran the first few steps until he pulled himself together and forced himself to walk at a more reasonable pace. Goddamn, why couldn't Travis simply leave him alone? Hadn't he done enough that night?

It had been a kick-ass long day of paperwork. David was dying for a beer. Even his captain was coming out with the team to celebrate a high-profile arrest. Happy to have escaped his desk, David walked into the East Street Bar with his partner, Joe. It was early, but most of the guys were already there. Cops at the bar. A bunch of firefighters at their table in the corner. It appeared like they were having a welcome party for a recent recruit. Discretely, David let his eyes roam over the new face. Dark hair, chiseled jaw, striking gray eyes—that looked right back at him across the room. Oh wow. Their gazes locked, and exhausted as he was, it was a few seconds before David realized he'd gone from glancing to staring. Crap. But damn the guy was hot. Unnerved, David turned away, but not before he caught a flicker of something—recognition?—in the other man's eyes. As much as he tried, he couldn't completely suppress another spark of excitement.

Desperate for a distraction, David volunteered to buy the first round, and he and Joe joined the others at the bar.

His own reckless reaction to the stranger just now aside, David wasn't out. The thought of people knowing his sexuality, of it becoming part of his résumé—Gay Detective Gallagher—made him shudder. He hated labels in general, especially those that could change people's perception. David worked hard for his reputation as a police officer and equally hard to keep his private life separate.

The captain came over to congratulate them again, and for a while they settled into a relaxed conversation about the case. Their usually closed-off boss was rather chatty, but when Joe offered to get the next round, the captain—a one-beer-only kind of guy—bid them good night. David excused himself to go to the men's room. A bunch of firefighters called out as he walked by, and waving back, he couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at the number of empty glasses on the table. They're going hard at it tonight.

He'd barely made it inside the restroom when there was a blur of dark blue and he bumped into a large, warm body.

"Sorry." David stepped back quickly and promptly hit his shoulder against the half-closed door that now slammed shut with a bang. He groaned at the pain. A hand reached out to steady him, and when David looked up, gray eyes locked with his—gray eyes, a crooked grin. Warmth seeped through the thin fabric of his shirt where he was wrapped in a firm hold. The temperature in the room suddenly skyrocketed, and David's whole body flared with heat. A ragged breath escaped before he could stop it.

His reaction didn't go unnoticed, and the smile slipped off the other man's face and his eyes wandered lower to David's lips.

Yes, David's whole body whispered, and he wasn't a hundred percent sure he hadn't said it out loud.

A round of raucous laughter jolted David's brain back to life, and not a minute too late, because he barely had enough time to shake off the hold when the door behind him rattled. David pushed himself off and darted to one of the stalls without looking back.

Listening to the joking voices, he cursed himself and waited until the door banged and the room went silent again. Fuck. What had he just done? How could he have lost it so fucking bad? He was always so careful—always keeping himself in check. But somehow the explosive chemistry with the firefighter had lit a match to David's defenses and burned them to the ground.

He gave himself another minute, but then headed back. Joe would send a search party if he didn't show up soon.

David managed to avoid glancing over to the table in the corner and positioned himself next to Joe with his back to the room. A fresh beer was waiting for him, and after a few gulps he felt his nerves settling down. Still, the mood was ruined and he couldn't wait to get out of here.

"This is my last. I'm beat," he said.

"Good plan. Marga will be happy to have me come home early."

"Your wife is a saint."

"She is the best," Joe agreed with a sappy smile, which almost immediately slid off his face.

Before David could turn to figure out what was going on, a nasally voice behind him said, "What's a little princess like you doing in a bar, Gallagher?"

Oh great. Fuller. One of David's least favorite colleagues. What else could go fucking wrong tonight?

"Shouldn't you be lying low, Fuller? Hear you're not in the captain's best books right now," Joe drawled.

"Well, I can thank your faggot partner here for that."

David stomach dropped. Oh God, had Fuller seen? Before he could rein in his panic, Joe jumped up from his chair, getting into Fuller's face.

David grabbed him automatically. "Joe. Not worth it."

Fuller let out a disgusted snort and mumbled another insult—this time directed at both of them, before he made his way over to the firefighter table.

"What an asshole. That homophobic shit he spews around all the time really gets to me." Joe growled. "I can't believe he showed up here tonight. You'd think he'd keep a low profile after his suspension. He fucked up, got caught, faced the consequences; it's time to move on."

Joe was right. Fuller had no clue. David forced himself to take a deep breath. "He didn't get caught. I reported him." He watched Fuller laughing with the firefighters.

"He roughed up a suspect and screwed up the case. I think he got off easy." Joe continued, "I hope he stays away; I'm fucking tired of his underhanded remarks. Too soft for the job? You? Asinine."

Fuller had been running his mouth for a few weeks now—trying hard to get back at David. In his version of the events, he—Fuller—had been the tough guy who did what had to be done while David was a wuss. And even if people around Fuller didn't seem to pay much attention to his hateful rantings, David was getting more and more irritated.

David downed the rest of his beer. He wanted nothing more than to get out of here, when Fuller's booming voice cut clear across the noise of the bar.

"So, you're gay and you're saying anybody could be gay. No matter how tough?"

Beside David, Joe stiffened.

"Fuck, yeah, that's exactly what I'm saying. Everything else is stereotypes and prejudice." The newcomer was engaging with Fuller in this doomed discussion. Unfortunately, he had his back to the bar, so all David could see was broad shoulders in blue uniform.

"I don't know," Fuller said with a dismissive shrug. His eyes wandered over to David, and suddenly the air seemed to be sucked out of the room. "Even the toughest tough guy?"

"Yes, totally." The answer came out a little slurred.

"Like Gallagher over there?" Fuller waved to him at the bar.

"Is that a trick question?" Gray eyes searched out David across the room smiling—clearly looking for confirmation, support.

"Why?" Fuller pushed.

"'Cause . . . I mean you already know he's . . ." David's frozen expression or the sudden hush in the bar must have clued the firefighter in. "I thought . . ."

A triumphant grin spread over Fuller's face. "See, you know he's gay, I know he's gay, but Gallagher over there still thinks he's a real man."

A long second of total silence. He could have heard a pin drop in the place, but then the new firefighter shot forward and threw a well-placed right hook smack into Fuller's face. "Did you fucking trick me into outing—"

The rest of his words where swallowed by the roar of voices as the room jumped to life again. In a place overflowing with testosterone, a firefighter beating up a cop quickly led to the two sides going at each other. It took all of David's willpower not to knock out a few people himself as bursts of fury tangled with chilling dread, because fuck, fuck, fuck—

Of course, he didn't, instead he and Joe threw themselves into the fight to drag a few guys out of the bar to cool down.

Luckily, nothing got broken. There was just a lot of pushing and shoving. Afterwards, he'd been ready to forget the whole incident. After all, no one but David had paid heed to Fuller's shit before. But David hadn't realized that a public fight between cops and firefighters would elevate the rumors to a whole other level. The next day at work, he'd felt a subtle shift around him.

Conversations stopped abruptly when he entered the room—if he was lucky. One time, he was unlucky and walked in to two rookies debating in great detail if he was the one bending over. Mostly, he heard the whispered, Well, that explains a lot, which set off his own paranoia about stereotypes all over again. But he kept his mouth shut, never confirmed any suspicion.

Life was ironic. David had been officially introduced to Travis Sommer a day after the fight. After waiting for almost four months, the fire department had finally managed to fill the much-needed investigator position to make progress with their tricky arsonist case—one of the longest investigations David had been on. The fire devil had been smart and had managed to make the fires look like accidents. Sommer didn't have much experience; however, when David did a quiet background check, he found that the guy had a spotless reputation and a pretty impressive résumé for a thirty-two-year-old. For the three months that followed, David had the pleasure to spend almost every fucking day with the guy who had not only outed him in a bar full of firefighters and cops, but had made it a public spectacle.

David had focused on his case and stayed professional. But the rumors wouldn't die. And today, those stupid remarks had hurt the one person David loved the most in life.

Cold wind hit him as he exited the courthouse. He zipped up his parka and pulled on gloves as he walked across the parking lot towards his car. He threw a last glance at the courthouse, but Sommer was nowhere to be seen.

David had barely turned on his car when his phone buzzed again. Defeated, he pulled out his cell and answered his sister's call.

"Finally. Where are you? Why aren't you answering your phone?"

"Working. What's up?" David said as he pulled out of the parking lot.

Amy was a radiology tech at the county hospital, working in the ER a lot, so she clearly wasn't surprised at David's statement. They both were used to crazy schedules. "Mom will come around. She loves you."

"I know. 'S'all good."

"Bullshit. I saw—"

"How could she not have known?" David hated that he was asking the question, but he was still reeling from his mom's response. "You're not like him." Thank God his sister didn't seem to have picked up on what Mom had implied.

"Hell if I know. I mean, ever since your sexual orientation caused a bar brawl, everybody has been talking about— Fuck, sorry, I didn't mean to bring that back up." Due to her constant contact with EMS paramedics and firefighters, his sister had been one of the first to hear about the fight.

Amy took a deep breath, clearly trying to get her speech back on track. "Honestly, I think Mom just has this picture of you in her head. The perfect son." David's gut clenched. "And because Dad was such a loser and walked out, she holds on to you a little too tight and ignores anything that doesn't fit into her polaroid. But, Davey, she loves you, and once she gets over herself, she'll come around. 'Cause being gay doesn't make you less perfect. You are, the best son and the best brother. I love you, bro. I didn't say that earlier, and I want to make sure you know."

"Love you too." A sigh escaped. "I've been kicking myself for dumping this on Mom."

"You didn't have a choice. Small town. The rumors were bound to reach her eventually. Actually, I think she's heard them for a while but tried to ignore them . . . until last night. Her book club apparently talked about you. Inga Fuller must have said a few nasty things that pushed her over the edge."

"Oh, fuck. It's my fault, but I honestly thought the rumors would die down. Think she is okay? Maybe I'll try to stop by the house again tomorrow."

Amy hesitated. "She texted me that she's going to Aunt Lizzy's."

"I thought she was staying here this year."

"Guess she changed her plans."

"She doesn't want to see me." Fuck, if that didn't hurt.

"Maybe it's a good thing. I'm sure they'll hash it out and she'll realize she made a mess out of it. You know Aunt Liz is a little less dramatic than Mom."

"Yeah. You're right."

"Maybe send her a text to have her let you know when she gets there. I'm sure she'll appreciate it if you reach out."

"I already did and she didn't reply."

"Ahh, shit, Davey, I'm sorry." They both fell silent, and David was about to say goodbye when Amy spoke up again. "To be honest, it took me a while to figure it out too. I mean you had girlfriends in high school. Did you know back then?"

"No, I guess I'm somewhat of a late bloomer—not sure that's the right word. It started with a drunken mistake my senior year in university. A mistake that felt more right than anything else before. So, yeah, it took me a while."

"Still. I remember you bringing Sven home for your birthday party that one year. You guys were pretty obvious. I don't know how Mom missed that he had his hand on your knee during dinner."

"Yeah, Sven and I were together for a while." Sven Larson had been his only real partner who had lasted longer than a night or two of fucking.

"Secretly together?"

"Neither of us wanted to come out and that killed it in the end."

"Sorry, that sucks. I wish I'd said something. Maybe—"

"It's okay. He's moved on. He's living together with his boyfriend."

"Do you want to come over tonight?" Amy asked. "I don't have much to offer, but a New Year's party at seven o'clock with a four-year-old and an infant. Not even sure Keil and I will make it until midnight, but if you're done working, stop by. I don't want you to mope around alone at your place."

The thought of seeing his little niece, Ella, was tempting, but David needed something different tonight. He was too much on edge to veg out on his sister's couch.

"Nah, I think I'll go out tonight. Start the new year with a bang."

Amy snorted. "TMI.TMI."

"Oh shit, that's not what I meant." But he was chuckling too. "It's a new year and after today, I need a beer or two."

"You know what? I think that's a great idea. Go out and get your gay on." Amy laughed at her own joke. "Seems like so far you've dealt with all the shitty stuff about coming out. Tonight you should go and have some fun. Find a cute guy—"

"There's the crazy sister I know and love . . ."

"No, I mean it. Look, just go somewhere where you can be yourself. You're always so worried about—I don't know—appearances. What other people think. Well, I hate to tell you: Whether you ever said the words out loud or not, all of Newbury thinks you're gay. So, why not go to a place where you don't have to hide? Where nobody expects anything from you for a change. You deserve to have fun—be happy."

David chuckled at his sister's sudden enthusiasm. "Okay, I'll think about it."

"Nah, not good enough. It's either my couch or . . . Where do gay guys go to party in Newbury?"

"I'd go to the Shamrock." The words were out before David could stop them.

"Oh, so you do know. Have been thinking about this, huh? Great. Promise me you won't just mope around at home."

"Okay, okay, I promise."

"Good. But no changing your mind. I'll be driving by your place at some point tonight, because Will is still not sleeping in his crib. The only time we're getting him down is by bundling him up in his car seat and driving around. So I better not see the lights on. Go out, have fun. Find a guy and fuck—"

"Bye, sis, happy New Year."

Amy's laughter was the last thing he heard as he hung up. Damn, he loved his sister.

Driving through the cold, almost-deserted streets, Amy's idea grabbed hold of him. It was early enough. He had plenty of time for dinner and a shower before going out.

Lately, hanging out with his friends was a tense affair. Everybody was watching him like a hawk and was waiting for big declarations, which David had no intention of giving. Amy was right—a new year, time to try out something different. And if he saw anyone he knew, well, chances were they'd be in the same boat as him.

Turning on his favorite radio station, he drove home, trying to figure out if he had anything he could wear to a New Year's party at a gay bar.

A shiver went through David. The freezing cold was creeping into his bones. He'd been sitting in the cold, dark car for way too long, but he didn't want to turn the engine back on. The fact that his fingers were slowly going numb should have forced him to finally make up his mind.

He leaned back in his seat and took a shaky breath. Again, he looked across the street. Blinking neon lights taunted him.

Putting this crazy idea for tonight into action was taking a little more guts than David had anticipated.

"Nobody I know would ever celebrate New Year's at the Shamrock. It's gonna be fine." He opened the car door and jumped out.

Shit, it was cold. David quickly locked his car and rushed across the street. When he pushed the heavy entrance door open, he was immediately engulfed by the heat and noise of a packed bar. David knew what to expect. He'd been to the Shamrock before. For work—a disturbing-the-peace call. On Halloween, two months ago. David and Joe had been called in to help break up a fight. The Shamrock wasn't different than any other Irish pub. Just another bar. That's why David had thought about coming here in the first place. If it was getting rowdy again, he'd leave. The last thing he wanted was to run into somebody from work.

"Hi there, gorgeous, come in. And pull that door close, will ya? The cold's freezing my balls off. If you don't mind, we're having a voluntary cover charge tonight."

David's head jerked in the direction of the voice and immediately did a double take. Okay, so maybe tonight the Shamrock wasn't a normal Irish pub. The place looked like somebody had dumped a truckload of glitter in the middle and then walked around with a leaf blower. It reminded him of his niece's princess castle. Yeah, Ella would love this. David? Not so much. But then, he had made it this far and it was fucking cold outside.

Behind a narrow table next to the entrance stood a willowy man in a dark red suit that was about three sizes too small and a black fedora . . . covered in glitter. Even in the dim light of bar David could see that he was wearing a ton of makeup. With a huge smile, he energetically waved David over to the table. "It's for good cause. AIDS research— Oh, it's you . . . Hi, Detective Gallagher."

David took two steps back. How the fuck did the guy know him? David desperately tried to figure out where or when he could have met the man before, but his brain was too busy freaking out. He didn't want to be a gay law enforcement officer. The two things didn't mix. Not in his world. And tonight, he'd just wanted to be himself. David Gallagher, a single gay man in his thirties. Not Detective Gallagher, decorated member of the local police force.

"David?"

David knew the voice before he turned. Oh fuck. Travis Sommer. Couldn't he go anywhere without the guy being a major pain in the ass? But, of course, Sommer would be here. Sommer was gay. The Shamrock was a gay bar. It was New Year's Eve. Stupid.

Without a second thought, David turned, pushed the door open, and rushed back out into the dark.

As he walked into the cold, he hated his flight reaction. By rushing out like this he'd shown weakness. Goddamn, he should have stayed in his car.

"Gallagher, please, wait up, man."

David pressed the button to open his car and, for a second, he seriously considered jumping in and speeding off, but Sommer wouldn't just step aside. If he'd learned one thing from working with Sommer, it was that the fire inspector was stubborn like a mule. Forcing himself to stop, David waited with his hand on the car's door handle until the other man caught up with him.

"Hey, listen, don't leave." Sommer reached for David's arm. David jerked away.

"Don't fucking touch me," he snarled.

"Okay, sorry." Sommer lifted his hand in a placating gesture, but didn't back up much. "Listen, don't leave okay? Go back inside. I'll leave. You stay."

Sommer taking the high road? Too little, too late. David let out a disbelieving snort. His breath turned white as soon as it left his mouth. Shit. In his anger, he'd completely forgotten about the cold. And Sommer was standing in front of him in a chocolate brown, long-sleeve Henley without a jacket.

Good. Hopefully, his balls were getting frostbite.

"I told you, I get it. It doesn't matter how many times I apologize or try to explain. I fucked up. I know there isn't anything I can say. I get it."

"You don't. You don't get it. You ran your mouth and—"

"And it fucked with your life."

"More than you know." As soon as the words had come out, David wished he could take them back. So far, he'd been angry, and he hadn't been shy to let Sommer know, but he'd never shown any weakness or actually admitted how much Sommer's action had impacted him. Until today. Today, he'd shown his hand twice already—at the courthouse and now again.

A car drove by and Sommer's face was lit in the bright beam of the headlights. There was genuine regret in his eyes. He wrapped his arms around his body and his shoulder slumped. The slow exhale from his mouth turned into more white mist. "Go back inside. Please. I'll leave. I owe you."

All this time, David had waited for Sommer to throw David's own actions from that night back into his face. Try to give him part of the blame. Yell that he'd come on to him in a public space—they had almost kissed in the men's room after all—insist that he'd had all reason to believe that David was out, but Sommer never did. He always just apologized.

A harsh shiver went through the firefighter's large frame, and he started rubbing his hands over his biceps, probably trying to keep himself warm. Fuck. Letting the guy freeze to death was satisfying, but also pretty juvenile.

"Why do I feel like the asshole here?" David choked out.

"What?"

"Why do I feel like I'm vindictive—petty—while you take the high road and smell like roses?"

"Because you're a good guy," Sommer said matter-of-factly. "C'mon. I owe you. Give me a chance to make it up to you." At the end of his sentence Sommer's teeth began to chatter, and he let out an embarrassed laugh. "Shit, it's cold. How about one beer? Just one?"

"You're one persistent fucker," David muttered.

"Said in front of a gay bar that statement can be taken a few different ways."

David couldn't help but laugh. He shook his head. Truth was he didn't want to go back to his place to spend the night alone in front of the TV.

"One beer?" Sommer seemed to sense his indecision and pressed his advantage.

"You pay."

Oh shit, where did that come from? Abort. Run.

Sommer froze for a second. Then he broke into a wide grin. "Okay. Tonight's on me. Whatever you want. Do your worst, Detective."

"Don't. I'm not working tonight. Ehm . . . call me David." They crossed the road.

"Okay, got it. No shop talk tonight."

The twink at the door beamed at him when they walked back in. "Yeah, you reeled him in. Good work, Trav. Finally. You've been all mopey about your precious detec—"

"Theo, enough. David is here for a beer," Sommer interrupted, and a little lower he added, "Don't scare him off."

The kid let out a giggle and in that moment, despite his sex-charged outfit, he looked incredibly young. Too young to be at a bar this late. Now that David wasn't in flight-or-fight mode, he recognized the guy under all the makeup and glitter.

At the hospital. A few weeks ago. Sommer had called him in the middle of the night.

"Gallagher, fuck, I'm sorry for calling you so late—"

"Sommer? You got to be kidding me."

"I know sorry, but I— A friend of mine needs help—"

"And you have nobody else you can call?"

There was a moment of silence on the line, then Sommer said, "A friend of mine got hurt—badly. He's at the hospital. I—I don't want to call it in and then have the likes of Fuller show up. David, he got beaten up and he needs to talk to somebody who isn't going to be an asshole about it."

David was still angry with Travis. Furious most days. But the slight panic in his voice struck a chord with him, so he went. He took one glance at the bruised young man with defeated eyes and a defiant scowl and knew that he was looking at a case of domestic violence. They discussed Theo's options for about thirty minutes until a nurse kicked them out. Well, he and Sommer had talked to Theo about his options. Theo had glowered and opted to make use of his right to remain silent.

Sommer completely lost his shit coming out of the hospital. His usually fluent moves had been jerky and abrupt. Frustration poured off him in waves. David hadn't seen him this angry. At least, not since the fight the night they'd met.

"This is so fucked up. I swear I'm gonna kill that motherfucker. Theo is a sweet guy . . . he doesn't deserve that asshole beating up on him."

"Nobody does."

"Did you see him? The bruises and cuts . . . all over his body. He's lucky nothing was broken. He could be seriously injured. The guy—" Sommer gave a trash can next to the entrance a hard kick. Luckily, it was bolted to the ground or it would have gone flying. It gave an indignant rattle.

"Okay, enough, simmer down," David said. "There's nothing you can do."

"What?" Sommer turned to him. His eyes narrowed to thin slits and his fists raised. "There's nothing I can do. That's it for you? What kind of a cop are you?"

David should have been pissed, but he wasn't. Travis was upset and looking for a fight. Anything would probably be better than feeling helpless. David had been there many times, so he let the insult go.

"Why did you call me?" he asked instead.

"Helping people is your job, isn't it? Detective." Sommer took a deliberate step forward, right into David's personal space. In the dim, bluish light of the neon sign across the ER entrance, his chest heaving up and down and his eyes blazing—goddamn, the man was gorgeous.

Suddenly, David needed to know the answer to his question. "Why call me of all people?"

Sommer hesitated. "You're good with words. I've watched you. People listen when you talk. I respect that. A lot, 'cause I suck at it. Theo needs help and—" Sommer's jaw moved as he swallowed "—you're a good guy to have by your side if things get rough."

David's eyebrows were probably touching his hairline. "Come again?"

"You speak up for people, you do the right thing. At the bar, you should have beaten the shit out of me, but you didn't. Instead you helped to cool things down. And you don't like me—" Sommer paused as if he was expecting objections, but David kept his mouth shut. "You don't like me, but you still tried to intervene with the chief on my behalf."

"Yeah, and I made a total fool of myself." David let out a bitter laugh. "That was before I knew you better—before I knew that you go looking for trouble."

David fully expected Travis to come back with a smart remark, but to his surprise the firefighter lowered his gaze.

"Give me your keys," David said. "You're too pissed off. You shouldn't be driving."

"No, that's fine. I'm okay. I don't need you to baby me." There was barely restrained anger in Sommer's voice, but also defeat. "Thank you for coming out tonight, Detective. You—you were good with Theo. You're right I'm a fuckup, but he's a good kid and doesn't deserve this."

Inches away from each other, they both stayed frozen. Time seemed to stretch out. David knew he should step back, but instead he let Sommer's intense emotions wash over him. He slowly raised his right hand, put it on Travis's shoulder, and gave him a gentle squeeze. The other man blinked in surprise. This was the first time they had touched since that night.

"I promise, the minute your friend is ready to press charges, I'll take the asshole down myself. Okay? I'll even take you with me when I put cuffs on him, but until then, you stay away from him. Watch out for your friend. That's fine, but don't take matters into your own hands. You hear me?"

Sommer lowered his head and looked at David's hand on his shoulder. Suddenly aware of their closeness, David dropped his hand. He couldn't help a covert glance around as he took a step back.

"And now give me your damn car keys. I'll drive you home. The mood you're in, you'll probably get into a road rage incident." The minutes the words came out, David regretted them.

"That's really all you fucking think about me."

"Well, I have good reason, so far—"

Sommer raised his hand and waved him off. "As I said, thanks for coming out, Detective. Sorry for calling you in the middle of the night."

"Suit yourself, hothead," David mumbled, but for the first time there was a twitch of unease in his gut. Was he judging Travis unfairly? But then Sommer kicked the trash can a few more times—the thunderous noise following him as he crossed the parking lot—and David brushed the thought aside.

Maybe David would have talked to Sommer about that night, but the next morning he walked by the small kitchen at the station and overheard the two pimply rookies discussing his sexual preferences. "I bet Gallagher is the one bending over. He strikes me as a guy who's in touch with his feminine side. He's always all about communicating—"

At least the kid had the decency to stop running his mouth when he saw David at the door. Operating on too little sleep, for once David couldn't just let the stupid comment roll off his back. Instead it hit him straight on. What used to be seen as his strength on the job—calm demeanor, diplomatic ways, deescalating approach—suddenly was part of a joke. He was overreacting, and knew he should just shake it off, but for once David actually wanted to hit something. As things were going, it wouldn't take long for people to believe Fuller when he said David was too soft for the job. Abruptly, he turned to walk back to his desk.

To make matters worse, he bumped into Sommer, who was scheduled to meet him at the station. No doubt he'd heard the words as well. Before the firefighter could even open his mouth, David snapped, "Done kicking trash cans?"

David had been a jerk. Lumping Travis's concern for a friend in with the firefighter's penchant for fighting—

Sven would like him. Under the dim lights of the entrance, the thought hit David like a rock. His ex-boyfriend would totally like Travis Sommer. Sven liked to fuss about people and make sure they were okay. The way Sommer had worked himself into a fit trying to help Theo that night would have endeared him to Sven.

David shook off his thoughts and took another look at Theo. The excessive makeup suddenly had a whole other meaning. Something in this look must have given him away, because Theo suddenly went quiet, lowered his head, and avoided eye contact.

Oh shit. David hadn't meant to dim the kid's bright sparkle. He pulled three twenties out of his wallet and dropped them onto the table. "Cover charge. For a good cause. Thanks for doing this, Theo."

Theo glanced up in surprise, his eyes widened, and then he gave him a slow, hesitant smile.

"Well, thank you, David. That's real kind of you."

The door opened again and Theo visibly pulled his Happy New Year's mask back in place and welcomed the next party guest.

Sommer had watched the exchange from the sidelines, but now he pulled David along to the bar. When they reached it, Sommer leaned over the counter to get the attention of a clearly flustered bartender. The guy looked like he'd rather be anywhere else but here. And David couldn't help but sympathize. A beer with Travis Sommer. Yeah, great idea.

By some miracle, they managed to secure two seats when a couple got up to join the crowd on the small dance floor in the back of the bar. Sommer dropped himself next to David and took a long sip of his beer. Casually sprawled out, Sommer took up a lot of real estate and while he scanned the room, David secretly checked him out. The lighting at the bar was better than in the entrance, allowing him to take in a few more details. Fuck, Travis looked good tonight: his hair brushed out back and—David squinted at Sommer's face—there was a dark shadow on the firefighter's cheekbone. Without a second thought, David grabbed Sommer's chin and tilted his head so that he could see the new bruise.

"What the fuck, Sommer?" he grounded out. "I thought you were done with this shit? Can't you go a week without getting into a fight?" A blush creeped into Sommer's face as David continued, "Seriously, it's just idiotic. I already had to drive you to the emergency room once. You need to learn how to walk away."

"Come on, give me a break—that was months ago."

In their first week of working together, Sommer had shown up at one of their arsonist's crime scenes with a shiner and a split lip. He'd moved gingerly and suppressed a moan every time he had to bend down. David had watched for a little while, but after Sommer nearly fainted with pain, he'd sent the bitching firefighter home.

"You looked like somebody took a baseball bat to you."

"Just dumb stuff. I can't believe you went to the chief about it."

This was the second time Travis had thrown David's impulsive trip to the firehouse back into his face. Back then David had still been thoroughly pissed at Sommer, but he hadn't been about to stand by when somebody was hurt—or bullied. So after berating a slightly stunned Sommer, he'd made a spontaneous trip to the firehouse to give the chief a speech about his hostile work environment and sensitivity training. The response was still ringing in his ears. The chief had made it very clear that there was no bullying at his house, and Sommer was simply a hothead getting into stupid arguments. After cooling down, David had felt like a total idiot. A closet gay standing up for the out-and-proud guy, who was obviously well suited to fight his own battles. He had no idea why Sommer kept bringing this up over and over again.

"I lost you." Sommer smiled at him with a crooked grin. His eyes looked different tonight. Usually they were a bright, hard gray. Maybe it was the dark-brown shirt, but they appeared warmer tonight. Softer. Deeper.

Slightly shocked, David realized he was still holding the man's face and jerked his hand away as Sommer continued, "I'm telling you, you totally overreacted. I was fine. Just a few bruised ribs. I've had worse, but you went to the chief." There was something almost triumphant in Sommer's tone. "You told my boss you needed me in one piece and fully functioning. Nice one. Is that really true? Why did you? Thought you hated me."

"I assumed you went through some similar stuff at the firehouse as I was facing with Fuller, but guess what—I was told to calm the fuck down because that wasn't the case and instead it was you stirring up shit. I should have known."

Sommer's face fell and David felt that twitch of guilt again. Fuck.

Trying to get back on track, David said, "Okay, listen, Sommer—"

"Call me Travis. Tonight. You said we're not working. If I call you David, then you should call me Travis."

"Travis, I told you before the fighting's gonna have to stop. I do have enough work already. I don't need to be called out to scrape your body off the pavement someday when somebody pulls a knife or a gun on you."

Travis sat frozen for a split second. "I haven't been fighting since—" He stopped abruptly, probably reading the disbelief in David's expression and instead said in a mocking voice, "Ahh, David, don't get my hopes up. One could think you actually cared."

"Fuck you, Sommer."

"Travis."

"Fuck. You. Travis." David drew out every word, but he couldn't quite keep a chuckle out of his voice. Travis laughed and mumbled something that David didn't quite catch, which was probably for the better. Mock banter worked for David.

"Jokes aside. Would you believe me if I said I ran into a door?" Travis asked with a grin.

"Yeah, right . . ."

"No, really, we were cleaning up the engine and one of the compartments jumped open and hit me in the face. No fight. Chief is threatening suspension and I promised you: no more fights."

Promise? David couldn't remember a promise.

"Another beer?" Travis asked into the short silence. David nodded, realizing it would have to be his last because he had to drive. He should have paced himself a little better. It was still an hour until midnight. Yeah, originally, he'd planned to stay for only one beer, but somehow it seemed wrong to leave before twelve.

The bar had gotten crowded. A wide mix of people, but mainly men. A few were dancing on a tiny open space across from the bar, and some couples were making out in the corners or in the narrow hallway to the restroom.

Travis came back with two more beers. There was a moment of awkward silence. Working together for weeks, they actually already knew a lot about each other. David knew what music Travis liked because he'd listened to a playlist on his phone when driving to interview potential witnesses. He knew Travis loved spicy Indian food, which David couldn't stand. So first-date small talk was out. Not that this was a date or anything.

Travis eventually found a fairly harmless topic. "So, what did you do for the holidays?"

"I worked. You know, unmarried guys work Christmas. Married guys work New Year's," David replied. "And you?"

"Yeah, same here. I'm the new guy, so I worked a few double shifts."

"I did manage to stop by my sister's house. Late on Christmas Day. She lives here in town, so I saw my family. I spent some time with them today too." David took a deep breath. Time to clear the air. "I kinda confirmed the persistent rumor about me."

It took Travis a second to catch up, but then his bottle froze halfway to his mouth. "You came out to your folks?"

"Yeah."

"That explains— Shit, man, that's big." Instead of taking a sip, Travis clanked his bottle against David's in a toast.

"Well, not really. I guess I was the only one who wasn't talking about me being . . . gay. For everyone else, it was old news." The lie almost got stuck in his throat.

His mom's reaction still had him rattled. He didn't want to get into it with Sommer . . . Travis. It was none of his business. But more than that, he didn't want Travis to feel totally responsible. Sure, his action had forced David's hand, but that wasn't the whole story. He had had more than ten years to come clean with his family and had chosen not to.

Travis shook his head. "Hey, I'm sorry. I—"

"My mom wasn't at the bar. Nor was my sister." David wasn't gonna tell Travis that his sister had been working at the hospital and had heard all about the fight. Travis had apologized plenty and David somehow—tonight—was ready to move on.

"How did they take it?" Travis asked.

"I always knew my sister would be fine. Amy is pretty laid-back. My mom will be okay."

"And your dad?"

"My dad? Oh, no, he isn't in the picture. He left us when I was thirteen. I haven't heard from him in years."

"That sucks."

It had. Back then. David had grown up the day he'd come home from school to find his mom on the kitchen floor crying her eyes out telling him that he was now the man of the house.

"It was a long time ago." Trying to change the subject, he asked, "And did you get to sneak out and see your family?"

"No . . . we're not close. Except for my youngest sister, I haven't seen them for a very long time." Travis took another long swallow of beer.

David waited to see if he would say anything else, but Travis stayed silent, so David asked, "Is it because you're out . . ." Thinking about Travis, he added lamely, "And proud?" Because it made sense. Travis was out and proud.

Travis focused on the label of his bottle, but then he turned and looked straight at David. "It probably was the last straw, but I would have hightailed out of there anyway as soon as I was done school. They just beat me to it by a few weeks. My dad was an asshole and a drunk. He couldn't hold a job longer than a few months. Luckily, my mom worked at a diner, so we had food most nights. I grew up in a trailer park—white trash." Travis's voice was even, but in his eyes David could almost see the angry boy with an Alaska-size chip on his shoulder. A kid with nothing but his fists to gain respect.

"Sorry, that got a little dark," Travis ended.

"So, we both have daddy issues. Good to know."

Travis had just taken another sip and promptly choked on his beer. He was coughing and laughing at the same time. Once he recovered, he gave David a shove that almost dislodged him from his chair. "Warn a guy, will ya?"

David settled back into his seat—the firefighter really didn't know his own strength. It wasn't like David was small, but Travis had more bulk. His shirt pulled tight over his chest and wasn't hiding any of his sculptured muscles and flat abs. He looked stunning tonight, and the bruise on his face only added to his raw, powerful beauty. "Raw, powerful beauty"? Get a grip, Gallagher!

". . . working holidays." Lost in his fucked-up thoughts, David had missed the beginning of the sentence. "Never dull. There is always something crazy happening." Travis launched into a few firefighter holiday glory stories about burned Christmas trees. David contributed a few of his own. After almost ten years as a law enforcement officer he had quite a collection.

Travis, who had apparently planned better than David and had left his car at home, got another beer, and without a word of complaint switched David over to water. David didn't mind that Travis kept drinking though. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes full of sparkle. He was obviously having a good time and he wasn't the only one. The place had gotten a little rowdy. The small dance floor was packed with men and women laughing and singing with the music.

This was why David had come here tonight. He hadn't come here to get laid. He'd come here for company. Male company. The last few times David had been out with his buddies it had felt forced. Complicated. Tonight, he didn't have to check his words or actions.

Still, every now and then, Travis put his hand on David's leg. Casually. The firefighter was tactile. David had noticed this before. He liked touching. And no matter David's original intentions, he wasn't immune to it. The warmth of Travis's skin—a fleeting stroke of his thumb—every touch sent sparks of arousal through him.

Just then Travis gave his leg a little squeeze. "Lost you again?" he said.

David smiled and shook his head. "No, I'm here and I'm having a good time. A really good time."

Travis beamed. A huge, warm smile. "Me too." Then he added, "That was part of it. You know . . . when I realized I had fucked up with the one guy I could see myself—"

Before Travis could finish his sentence, the lights went bright and the DJ started the countdown to midnight. Midnight? Already? David couldn't believe how quickly time had gone by. With forced smiles, he and Travis stood awkwardly next to each other as the whole room counted out the last seconds of the old year. David cursed under his breath. He clearly wasn't drunk enough for this shit.

At midnight the room turned into a madhouse. People were falling into each other's arms screaming, kissing, and laughing.

 Travis said something, but David couldn't hear a word over the racket, so he shrugged. Turning towards him and with a mocking grin and theatrical flourish, Travis raised his arms for a hug. David rolled his eyes but stepped into the open embrace . . . and the room went dark again. Without sight, David's world tilted off its axis, and he stumbled into Travis, who caught him, wrapping his arms tightly around him.

For a few seconds, before his eyes adjusted to the dim light, David was blind, with all his other senses going into overdrive. He could feel the warmth of Travis's body, and his hands moved over hard, well-defined muscles. Underneath the spicy vanilla of his aftershave Travis smelled so good . . . male.

David had stepped way too close, and his front was pressed hard against Travis's chest now. A scrap of scruff on his cheek. Travis seemed to be just as surprised. David heard harsh exhales—a huff of air against his neck.

Then Travis shifted. He ghosted his lips across David's, a brief touch, and then he pulled back. Hovering inches away. Obviously waiting for David to close the gap again. Leaving the choice to him. As if there was really a decision to make. David leaned in and pressed his lips hard against Travis's mouth. God, yes. Electric currents raced through his body and his heart started hammering in his chest. Travis tilted his head and deepened the kiss. David's breathing hitched when teeth scraped against his lower lip and he couldn't suppress a low moan when Travis bit down gently. Tongues got involved. David let his hands roam over Travis's back and felt him shiver as he found exposed skin right above the waist of his jeans.

It was Travis who pulled back, and the noise of the crowd intruded again. Probably for the better, because David had been two seconds away from starting a slow, heady grind against Travis's groin in a room full of people. He looked up to find Travis's eyes, and his heart missed a beat or two. Damn, Travis was gorgeous: slightly disheveled from their kiss, flushed skin, still breathing heavily.

"Hey." David finally found his voice and immediately wished he hadn't. He sounded rough, husky, and clearly his brain was not at full capability yet.

"Hi to you too." Travis chuckled, but his eyes were warm instead of mocking. "And happy New Year."

"What? Oh yeah, right, happy New Year." David's ears were burning. Luckily, Theo flew up to them out of nowhere, saving him from more sappy embarrassment.

"Happy New Year, big guy!" Theo jumped into Travis's arms. A few other people came over to wish them happy New Year. Travis seemed to know quite a few people. David wondered why they all had stayed away earlier. However, the mystery got solved when Theo with a shit-eating grin started whispering to Travis while throwing meaningful glances at David.

David wasn't sure how to take Theo's matchmaking attempts. This wasn't a date. Okay, they had kissed. And, yeah all right, it had been a hell of a kiss, but David hadn't come here to hook up. Though when he looked around the bar, he could tell he was probably the only one who was planning to go home alone tonight.

Suddenly, he felt out of place. Especially when a pretty redhead, who had lost his shirt somewhere, came up to Travis and started rubbing naked skin all over him. David tried not to stare as the guy plastered himself onto Travis. Red had no shame.

Time to leave. David was probably cramping Travis's style.

Not wanting to interrupt, David called out and gave Travis a quick two-finger salute indicating that he was leaving. At first, he wasn't even sure Travis had seen him and something like disappointment started to form in his chest. He didn't want to sneak out, but he also didn't want to stay and watch Travis go home with someone else. So he turned, but he had only taken a step when Travis called him.

"Yo, David, wait up."

David looked back just in time to watch Travis peel the half-naked kid off and rush after him.

"You're leaving?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm tired." It was a lie, but Travis wouldn't know. "But I had a great time. Thanks again. I guess I'll see you around." Shit, this was awkward. He'd just had his tongue down Travis's throat.

To his surprise, Travis replied, "I had planned to get an Uber, but if it's not out of your way, would you give me a ride?"

"Sure, but ugh . . . don't you?" David tilted his head towards the pissed-off redhead.

Travis twisted around to see what he was looking at and then gave David a hard shove. "Really? C'mon. You're an idiot, Gallagher."

David said nothing, but he couldn't stop a slow grin. Take that, Red. He ain't interested.

"Sure. I'll give you a ride if you wanna leave."

Travis nodded and sprinted to the bar, presumably to clear his tab and say goodbye. When he came back, he had Theo with him.

"You old geezers calling it a night?" Theo asked and promptly got treated to one of Travis's signature shoves. If David hadn't been ready to catch him, Theo would probably have flown halfway across the bar. God, the guy really had no idea of his strength. Theo seemed to be used to Travis's special brand of endearment, because once back on his own feet, he simply ignored the firefighter as if nothing had happened.

Taking a chance, David pulled Theo close and leaned forward so that only Theo could hear his words. "It's a new year. A new start. Too precious to mess it up with the same old shit."

Theo jerked in surprise. David could see the same defiance from the hospital in Theo's eyes. He opened his mouth, obviously to tell David off, but something changed. Theo titled his head and looked at David intently. Trying to read him? Then, he raised one eyebrow. David wondered how much Theo knew about David hiding in the closet, because it seemed like the kid was calling him out on his own pep talk.

David forced himself not to pull back and break eye contact; instead he said contritely, "Yeah, okay, I know. I'm one to talk. I should probably take some of my own advice here. Just—sorry, it's not my place, but think about it . . ." David's sentence trailed off as Theo suddenly leaned forward and pressed his head against David's chest. Nothing else. He simply leaned hard into David. Not sure what else to do, he put his hands on Theo's shoulders. He could feel Theo's whole body heaving as he took deep breaths.

Travis must have realized something was going on, as he stepped a little closer to shield them from people in the room. None of them moved for a while.

"A new year." Theo finally raised his head. "Sure is . . . and maybe you're right, maybe it's time I actually stop lying to myself. Acknowledge that . . . I don't know . . . maybe I need to take a break for a while." His voice was hesitant but calm with a hint of determination, which gave David hope.

He nodded. "And if you need anything, anything at all, Travis knows how to get in touch with me, okay? We've got your back." David stuck out his fist. With a slow smile, Theo fist-bumped David back. Travis didn't have as much restraint; he pulled his friend into a huge bear hug, completely burying Theo's slender frame. David could read the words I love you on Travis's lips.

After another round of goodbyes, they walked through the freezing cold back to David's car, and Travis said, "I'm not sure if I love you or hate you right now."

"Wait. What?"

"I've been talking with angels' tongues. I've threatened to put him over my lap and spank him. I offered to buy him a plane ticket to anywhere in the world. And nothing ever had any impact until you came along and bang . . . the world is a better place."

A rush of warmth spread through David at Travis's praise, but in reality he could take very little credit, so he said dismissively, "Nah, that's just New Year's." Knowing that this was bullshit, he added, "Actually, I bet having you on his side made a difference."

The drive was quiet. A good, comfortable silence. This was probably the one thing David had always liked best about Travis. Silence didn't seem to scare him. When they had worked the arsonist case, they'd been in the car together quite a bit, and if there was nothing to say, Travis didn't feel the need to spout bullshit.

David's regular partner, Joe, sometimes talked his ear off. David loved Joe to death. He couldn't have asked for a better partner, but man, the guy could talk. Especially, when they were on a stakeout at night. Lights went dark and Joe started to babble.

Looking at the large silent figure in his passenger seat and trying to figure out how the two of them had gotten here tonight, David wondered if the story Joe had told him on their last stakeout was true.

"Did you hear," Joe said into the dark of the car, "Sommer got into a fight at the station again?"

David grunted something noncommittal. It was a few days after Sommer's outburst at the hospital and their subsequent fight, and even though Sommer had just delivered the missing piece to potentially close the case, David didn't want to hear about the hothead firefighter. But then he said, "What else is new? The guy has the problem-solving skills of a caveman."

"He got into it again with Fuller, your special friend." David glared at his partner. "Just saying, I heard Midwald and Fuller himself talk about it in the kitchen while I was making copies. They didn't notice that I was standing in the hallway right behind to them. Midwald said that Fuller was lucky Sommer held back this time."

David snorted.

"Oh, come on, you can't tell me you didn't enjoy Fuller getting his balls kicked."

"I didn't," David mumbled. But, hell, he was only human—still didn't mean he had to admit that to anybody.

"Last time looked nasty," Joe said with the unholy glee of a bystander. "Well, seems like there were no fists involved this time, but I heard Midwald say that Sommer had a point and Fuller should let the past rest and just stop talking about you—" Joe abruptly broke off his sentence.

What the fuck! David turned to Joe, who suddenly fidgeted in his seat, and sputtered, "What're you saying? Sommer felt compelled to defend my honor?"

He's standing up for me after I was such a jerk to him at the hospital? And whatever Sommer had said must have made an impression if Fuller's partner, Midwald, had spoken up for David as well.

It'd probably been the first—or maybe second—real crack in David's self-righteous anger. Back then he'd brushed it off as too little too late, but now he wondered how different their story would have been if the fight at the East Street bar had never happened—if they had simply met as colleagues the next day.

"Hey, you need to turn here," Travis called out next to him, effectively stopping his train of thought. The car swerved slightly as David took the turn late.

"Shit, you're seriously in the clouds tonight. I don't think I've ever seen you so . . . I don't know . . . lost in thought?"

"My grandma called it woolgathering and I'm sorry. I just have a lot on my mind. Thank you by the way for running the show with Witherspoon. I know I was an ass, but I appreciate it." David set the blinker and turned into Travis's street.

"Now that you told me you came out to your folks, I get it. That's huge."

"Not sure. I mean, I'm past thirty. It was way overdue."

He stopped the car in front of the old fabric building that had been converted into an apartment complex. He left the engine running though. It was too fucking cold to turn it off. For a moment they sat silently next to each other in the dark car. It was past midnight and the street was deserted. Too late and too frigid for anybody to be outside.

David pulled himself together and looked over to Travis. He wasn't sure what to say, but once he started, it was actually pretty easy. "I had a good time tonight. Thanks for not letting me run out earlier." And he meant it.

Travis smiled widely. David could see his white teeth in the dim streetlight.

"Same here. I'm really glad you didn't run . . ." Travis huffed out a sigh. "Fuck, that came out wrong. What I meant to say was thanks. I screwed up and nobody would blame you for just . . . you know . . . never talking to me again. So what I want to say is thanks for giving me a second chance."

For a split second David wanted to kiss Travis again. It would be simple: all he had to do was lean over and find Travis's lips in the dark. It would feel right—amazing. His heartrate jumped to erratic as he slowly bent towards Travis.

Travis put his hand on David's shoulder. "Dave, I'd ask you upstairs, but I'm drunk. Not completely trashed but too drunk to . . . I don't know." Travis moved closer over the console. "If you ever say yes, I want to be stone-cold sober. I want to make sure I'm with you one hundred percent. Does that make sense?"

Ouch! Travis was shutting him down. Not that David would have gone upstairs to . . . No way. Absolutely not. Still, getting sent home stung. Belatedly, David jerked back, dislodging Travis's hand.

"Hey, it's not . . . I mean what I said . . ."

"No, it's late anyway."

"Listen, I'm still off for another forty-eight hours, maybe we can—"

"And it's fucking cold, so you better get inside."

"Dave, I—"

"I guess I'll see you around."

"Okay. Sure." There was a trace of regret in Travis's voice, or maybe David just wanted to think it was there, because tonight had been good—fucking great—but he should know by now. The two of them were like fire and water: a lot of smoke, but they would never get any further than this.

"He shut me down last night," David grumbled into his phone.

"Maybe he doesn't get it up when he's drunk." There was a chuckle in Sven's voice.

"Bullshit."

"Anyway, today he asked you to come over. You said he sent two messages inviting you to his place to watch a game."

"That could mean anything. Maybe he's just being nice."

"Nice? Yeah, okay—the guy kissed you at midnight and now he invites you to hang out with him on his couch."

"So you don't think I'm crazy?" Rhetorical question. David was parked around the corner from Travis's apartment building—freezing his balls off again—calling his ex-boyfriend for encouragement to go upstairs. It was obvious he had completely lost his mind.

All day long he'd repeated Travis's words from last night like a personal mantra. "If you ever say yes, I want to be stone-cold sober. I want to make sure I'm with you one hundred percent." It really could only mean . . . That simply had to mean . . .

At first, David had dismissed the implied insinuation. Yeah, Travis had invited him over, but it had been very unspecific. Yet, David was here. Showered, groomed, dressed casually, but not sloppily . . . with a bottle of whiskey, because Travis could stay sober if that was his choice, but David was going to need some liquid courage to go through with this.

Sven's laugh pulled him back from his thoughts. "No, you're not crazy. You finally found a man you're interested in. He's single and invited you over. You go for it."

"It's a hookup," David replied forcefully.

"Okay, if you say so. Nothing wrong with that. You're both adults."

"Yeah, then why do I feel like I'm sixteen years old sneaking out the window and stealing my mom's car?"

"You mean you're nervous? Sure. You're human."

David hesitated. "What if I got this wrong?"

"Do you think you got this wrong?"

David's mind went back to the kiss and everything that had happened. Sven continued talking when no reply was forthcoming. "I have to say, I give the guy some credit. He must know you pretty well."

"What do you mean?"

"If you had fallen into bed with him, you'd have been gone before first light. And then shit would have been awkward the next time you see him. This way, he's made it your decision. He's made sure you're a hundred percent on board. That's a smart move and . . . respectful—"

"You're full of shit. I was leaning over to kiss him and he shut me down." David was still not quite over the sting of rejection, but with their arsonist case wrapped up, it could be weeks until their paths would cross again, and he didn't like the idea of not seeing Travis anytime soon.

"Okay, maybe not the right word. All I'm saying, it's a move from a guy who knows you and is pretty serious about you. Sorry, don't want to freak you out, but I don't think your firefighter just wants a quick hookup. He could have had that last night."

"Damn, Sven, you're not helping." Then David added, "Nothing has changed, you know. I'm not planning to come out." Okay so that sounded ridiculous, because in a way, he had come out—had been outed or what-the-fuck-ever. "I mean, I'm not looking for anything serious at this point. I don't need to add fuel to the rumor mills. My family doesn't need more gossip. And I fucking hate all the stupid comments at work. If I hear another person sprout bullshit behind my back—like 'Oh well, that explains it,' I'm gonna kill someone. Beside the lack of a girlfriend, what the hell does me being gay explain?" Sven made a sympathetic hum and David continued, "It feels like that asshole Fuller has won. He's managed to change people's perception—opinion of me. And not always to the better, and I won't let that happen."

There was a stunned silence on the line, but then Sven said, "Fuck, I get it. This totally sucks, I give you that. But despite all this going on, Dave, make sure you don't pass on something good because it makes some waves, okay? You deserve—"

"As I said, I want all this to go away, so I'm not looking to add a boyfriend to the whole clusterfuck."

"Neither was I, but— Well, okay, then go up there and fuck him out of your system. And after that go back to avoiding him like the plague."

This time David couldn't help but laugh. "Okay, I can do that. Thanks."

"See, that's what friends are for. I'm here. Call me anytime." There was some noise in the background. "Jayden says hi. And he tells me to remind you to come down and visit us in Vancouver."

It should have been weird, but it wasn't. They'd been friends before being lovers, and even if it was a little shaky, they'd somehow managed to save their friendship.

"You guys are okay, right?"

"Yes, we're good. The place is finally starting to look like home. Jayden is starting classes next semester. It's all good. And you saw the picture of Spike, right?"

"Your rescue puppy? Yeah, damn cute."

"He's a sweetie. Listen, I know I'm keeping you from something important, so quit stalling and go get your man." Sven hung up on him.

Despite his friend's encouragement, David still managed to find a few minutes to stall. Earlier, he'd sent his mom and his sister a text to wish them a happy New Year. Amy had replied right away, but his mom had only replied with a short Thank you almost an hour later. After blowing into his hands to warm up his fingers, he pulled out his phone to text her again.

David: I hope you had a good time. When are you back in town? I can stop by.

The Read tick appeared almost immediately, then there where the moving dots telling him that she was typing a reply. He couldn't help but get his hopes up. They'd all been close since his father left—the three of them against the rest of the world. If she would just talk to him, then David could explain . . .

Mom: I'll be back tomorrow.

David waited, but no invitation to get together followed. He stared at his screen for a while longer, but nothing.

Officially out of excuses, David found himself standing in front of Travis's door a few minutes later. He wiped his sweaty hands on his jeans for the second time, and then knocked on the door. His heart pounded.

Nothing. David raised his hand to knock again, but at that moment the door ripped open and Travis said, "You've got to be kidding me. No way. I—"

David took two steps back. He felt like the air had been punched out of his lungs. Damn. He'd gotten this all wrong.

There was a moment of awkward silence where they stared at each other, then Travis started to laugh. He stepped to the side and opened the door wide.

"Dave. I'm sorry. Come in. I thought you were Theo. He's been bringing stuff over all day. Just look at this." Travis pointed to a pile of black plastic bags in the corner of the hallway. "I don't get how one guy can own so many clothes. Insane."

"He's moving in?" David's voice sounded a little hoarse—his throat suddenly dry.

"What? No. I mean, I love the guy, but he'd drive me batshit crazy. He's staying with a friend, but storing some stuff here."

"Really? I didn't expect that. I'd hoped he would take action, but I didn't expect him to make such a drastic move so quickly."

"I hear you. It's been going on for months, but something must have finally clicked, because he texted me early this morning and he's been over a few times this morning dropping off bags of stuff. Maybe it's the fact that his boyfriend—if you can even call the asshole that—is away for work for a few more days. I think Theo wants to be out before he comes back."

David nodded and stepped slowly into the apartment. "Wow. This is nice."

Once he got past the trash bags in the front, the apartment was amazing. It looked like a magazine. The main room was dominated by a huge comfortable sectional with a low coffee table. There were bookshelves along one side and a built-in entertainment center with a flat-screen. On the other side, David could see an open kitchen, small, but definitely new. A wood fire was burning in the large fireplace in the back. But what really surprised David was the artwork on the walls: black-and-white photographs of leaves, so enlarged that they almost looked like abstract art.

"My sister took these. She's a photography major. Scholarship. Best of the bunch—pretty proud of her. She gave these to me," Travis said. Observant as always, he must have followed David's eyes.

"These are pretty cool. She's talented." David examined the room again. "Christ, Travis, you got art on the wall, throw pillows matching the freaking curtains. Yeah, this makes it official—you're gay, definitely."

Travis snorted and blushed. "I always wanted a nice place."

David instantly wished he hadn't said anything. Travis had grown up in a trailer park. Of course he would value an apartment of his own a lot more than David, who'd gotten his own room and nice furniture when he turned five.

"Sorry, stupid joke. It's awesome. Your place looks like a home."

"Thanks." Travis preened a little and then turned home-improvement-show host. "Let me give you a tour. The bathroom was redone when I moved in." He opened the first door in the small entrance. "It has a huge shower, which was one of my top requirements. You know. Firefighters. Despite showering the grime off at the station, I like a long, hot shower after my shift."

David nodded and made a few appropriate comments about the size of the room and the giant shower stall, but mainly he enjoyed watching a very animated firefighter show off his home-decorating skills.

Travis opened the second door. "It's only a one-bedroom. I haven't managed to finish this room yet." The bedroom was spacious, stretching across the whole back of the apartment. Except for a few paint buckets and a ladder, it was completely empty. No bed.

David's mind came to a screeching halt. Travis had invited him over for . . . and, damn, there was no bed. Something must have given away his confusion, because Travis stepped closer and gave him a knowing grin.

"The sofa pulls out. It's real comfortable. I sleep in the living room—in front of the fire place." He wiggled his eyebrows, which would have looked sleazy on most guys, but on Travis it was all sexy. Travis took his hand and almost impatiently pulled him along as he gave the bedroom door a quick kick to close it again.

The mood between them shifted. The hyperawareness he always felt around Travis was suddenly back. When they reached the living room, Travis turned him and pushed him against the back of the sofa. He stepped between David's legs and gave him a slow, careful smile. "I wasn't sure you'd come after I was such an idiot last night and let you go."

"You sent me away," David grumbled.

"Yes, it was stupid. I regretted it all night." Travis bumped teasingly against David. "So, I'm really glad you're here."

"Me too. Very glad." David stretched out his hand with the whiskey he was still holding on to. "I know you said you want to be sober, but maybe we'll need it . . . later."

Travis took the bottle and let it slide down the back of the couch onto the seat without looking. His eyes were locked with David's as he stepped even closer. "I'm not sure I can wait for later," he whispered as he cradled David's face with his right hand while his left pulled them together.

"Oh, thank fuck! You meant it, right? You didn't invite me to watch a hockey game?"

Travis seemed to have been about to kiss him, but instead he leaned his forehead against David's and chuckled. "No, I didn't. We can definitely skip the game. However, I did run out and buy eggs and bacon at the only open store on New Year's Day just in case you decided to stay for breakfast."

Then Travis kissed him. Soft lips touching, accompanied by a slow moan. Fuck. This felt good. Teasing licks turned into gentle bites before he coaxed David's lips open and slid his tongue against David's.

After a few minutes, Travis started to pull and push him around the sofa without ever breaking contact. David let himself be maneuvered. Anything—anything to get him where he wanted to be. Naked. Strung out with need. With no rational thought left in his wound-up brain. Maybe Travis felt the same urgency, because when he pushed David down, he immediately crawled over him, straddling his legs. David let his head fall back against the headrest to give Travis better access. He closed his eyes.

"Yeah, just like that. I've got you," Travis whispered.

David lost track of time, but a while later, they were both stretched out next to each other on the couch. Travis's flannel shirt was unbuttoned, and David's sweater and T-shirt gone. Pants undone. Travis was brushing soft kisses against his chest, gradually working his way down. David had a hard time staying still and not trying to progress things faster. He couldn't suppress a growl when Travis reversed direction. It got him an amused smile and another deep, unhurried kiss.

"Impatient much, huh? Thing is, David, I don't want to just fool around. I wanna take my time. I want all of you. I'll go as far as you let me. And unless you're totally against it, I'd love to fuck. I mean, if you're not into it at all, that's okay," Travis added quickly.

"Yes," David's answer burst out. Oh, God, yes, please.

Travis pulled David's hand against his chest, where his heart was beating against his ribs. "Yes as in 'Yes, let's fuck'?"

David nodded and closed the gap. For a few minutes, they got lost in their kiss again, but then Travis broke contact and asked breathlessly, "What do you like? I'm vers. Either is fine with me."

Shit. David hated that question. Slot A, tab B. Of course Travis could simply ask stuff like that while heat rushed over David's face. Travis was so freaking comfortable with everything. David hadn't been with anyone since Sven, and that had been over a year ago.

It wasn't that David didn't know the answer to the question. He knew what he liked. It simply didn't mix well with the first impression people had of him.

Giving himself a mental push, he said, "Fuck me." And then he froze, wishing somehow he could take it back. Shit. He was a big guy. A police officer. A man. He shouldn't want . . . that. A piece he couldn't reconcile. Another part of him he usually kept hidden.

"Aren't you full of surprises." Travis let out a low moan. "You like to catch?"

David went silent. Stupid baseball reference didn't make it any better. So what if he liked a dick up his ass? It didn't mean anything.

"Hey, stay with me, David. Too much? I'll back off if I'm asking for too much. Right now, you look like you'd rather throw a punch at me than have sex. Just forget it, okay? It's not . . . We can do anything . . ." Travis had pulled back slightly, but he kept his hand on David's shoulder. Gentle circles trying to stroke the tension out of his body.

"No, it's . . ." David struggled. "Don't you ever feel like you're letting people down? By not being what everyone expects you to be? Or do you not care?"

"Whoa, what? I asked what gets you off, Gallagher. There is no right or wrong answer." Travis's hand dropped from his shoulder, and David instantly missed the connection. "Letting people down? It's only the two of us here, so what do you got to prove?" The spark of temper with which Travis delivered his reply hit David square in the chest, and his surprise made him even more vulnerable. Why was Travis so pissed at him?

"Sorry, I . . ." Way to kill the mood. The silence drowned out all other sounds in the room and every second seemed to add another foot to the gap that was stretching out between them.

Travis was still on the couch with him but had turned away. Hands balled to fists in his lap. David couldn't handle it any longer. He got off the sofa and scooped up his shirt from the floor.

"Wait. No." Travis jumped up as well. For a second, David expected him to grab his wrist to hold David back, but Travis stopped himself before he actually touched him. There was a flicker of panic in his expression before he broke eye contact. He jerked his hands back against his body.

"Dave, wait. Give me a chance to explain." Travis's head lowered and his voice was forced. "It's not like I don't get it, okay? I grew up with the same shit remarks, the derogative jokes, and the same stereotypes. I get it." Travis swallowed hard. "Me getting pissed isn't about you. People's expectations—that's like a red flag for me. 'Cause those never really work out well for me."

Finally, Travis looked up. David could see his own genuine regret reflected in Travis's eyes. He put on his T-shirt, but then sat back down. A harsh sigh of relief broke out of Travis, and he gave David a small self-depreciating smile. With surprising clarity, David realized that he'd better get used to handing out second chances if he wanted this thing with his firefighter to go anywhere.

"I have a bad temper, so people don't expect much from me. or I should say don't expect anything good from me." A quick shrug underlined his words. "I'm not like you. I lose my shit at the slightest provocation. Always been that way. Growing up, I got into fights a lot. Brawls— that's what people expected from me. Even my own mother predicted I'd end up in juvie." Travis took a deep breath. "And I . . . I spent my life fighting very hard not to become what they expected. For me, the best way is to turn other people's expectations off completely. I don't do well with reminders of how their opinions messed with my life."

Not sure what to reply, David stayed quiet, wishing he could be as fearless as Travis. Damn. The guy had basically gutted himself in front of David. How could he be so honest? They barely knew each other . . .

Liar. The truth roared inside David. Yeah, he'd tried to ignore Travis. Anger had masked his interest and made it easy to push aside the attraction he'd felt from the very start. But it had always simmered between them and fueled David's awareness of every little thing Travis said or did. And now, seeing Travis's more vulnerable side, David's fascination and curiosity flared even hotter. On his own turf, in his carefully arranged apartment, Travis had allowed himself to be exposed, and it felt like David was getting a glimpse at Travis's sheltered dreams. Dreams too precious to share with the world, but he'd shared them with David.

"I'm sorry. I jumped at you. It wasn't fair, because I get it. Totally get it." Travis put his hand on David's legs, and just like that, sparks of arousal were shooting through his body again. "And if tonight is rushing it, I'll back off. I—"

"No, I want you . . . I want to feel you inside me. Now. Here." David's words came out rushed. Breathless.

Travis looked up in surprise. He shook his head and let out a frustrated little huff that turned into a laugh. "Babe, gotta tell you. You've got no game." The warm glow in his eyes took the sting out of his words. He slid off the couch, onto his knees, and moved closer again. "I hear people talk about how smooth you are. The perfect Detective David Gallagher. Good with people. Always finds the right words. Clearly, that's a lot of bull."

Instinctively, David spread his legs wider to make room, and when Travis put his hands on his thighs, a low groan escaped. Shit. He usually had better control, but Travis set his body on fire—had from the very first moment they touched.

Travis titled his head. "Talk to me. Your hot-and-cold routine gives me whiplash, and I think you need to be more specific. Put some of your famous people skills to good use."

David tried a wicked grin. "Can't we just fuck?"

There was a responding smile on Travis's face, but he stood his ground. "Nah, told you before: I want to take my time with you. Not gonna rush this. Talk. What are you worried about? Why do you care so much what people think?"

There was silence. Travis would wait him out. Yeah, he was a hothead when provoked, but he was also stubborn as a mule.

"I grew up with a guy who came up short. I already told you. My dad left us—my mom, my sister, and me—when I was thirteen. And it sucked." David swallowed around the lump in his throat. "And I never want to be that man. I want to make sure I don't let people down. Maybe it's a weakness, but I care what people think about me. It matters to me." David clenched his jaw together to keep the emotions in check. "So I—I do this thing. I keep pieces of me . . . apart if they don't fit what people are expecting. If I'm in uniform, I make sure I'm just a cop, not a gay cop. I can't seem to bring those two parts of myself together." He was leaving a lot out, but he wasn't ready to say more.

Travis stayed quiet for a minute, and then he said, "That's because you think people focus on the wrong thing."

"Have you heard all the stuff they're saying about me right now?"

"Yes, I have—soaked up every word about you for weeks, and David, you are well respected by everyone. Well, everyone whose opinion is worth anything. Right now some people are talking trash and it's an issue—I take the blame—but in the end that's not what defines you." David must still have looked unconvinced, because Travis rushed on. "I'm not doing a good job explaining it. I'm trying to say, most people look at you and they don't focus only on this one piece, label, whatever you want to call it, especially as there is so much that matters more. I'm not saying that to make light of what you said, but don't let a few shitheads derail you." Travis pulled him back onto the sofa and let his hands roam under David's shirt. "Want to know what I think when I look at you—the words I think about are . . . kind." Travis leaned closer and pressed a light kiss against David's collarbone. "Caring and grounded—just solid." Another kiss. A grumpy fucker some days." Teeth scraped over skin. "Bossy . . . and goddamn you're so fucking beautiful . . ."

"What are you doing?"

"Seducing you with the intent to fuck your messed-up brains out. Any objections?"

David chuckled. "No. No objections at all."

Travis pulled the shirt over David's head and then pushed him back down onto the sofa. David closed his eyes and simply focused on the trail of wet kisses and licks Travis laid on his neck and shoulders.

Just let go. Travis has shared some of his soft underbelly. It's okay to level the playing field and for once get what you want—what you need—and not just a quick fuck.

He opened his eyes and focused on Travis's reaction as he slowly raised his hands over his head and locked them together. Travis let out a low growl.

"I got you, babe. I promise." Travis's hands stroked over David's body down to the waist of his jeans. "Can I take these off?"

David lifted his hips to give him better access, and Travis pulled his pants down without any hesitation. David's cock jumped free. Heat flared in Travis's eyes.

"Wow. Gallagher, I knew it: you're packing."

David snorted. "Problem?"

"No, not tonight, it isn't. Just wanna taste you."

Travis crawled over him, trying to get closer to David's dick, and promptly tumbled off the couch, hitting the floor with a low thud. There was a moment of stunned silence.

"Shit, you okay?" Trying to suppress a laugh, David rushed to check on his lover—kicking off his jeans to make sure he didn't join him on the floor.

"Yeah, just— Damn, let's do this right. Get up for a sec. I'll turn this into a bed. I've sheets and all. We can have sex like grown-ups—in a bed."

In a flurry of activity, Travis changed the sofa and managed to lose all his clothes in the process too. Naked, his firefighter was a sight to behold. David shivered in anticipation to explore every inch of exposed skin in front of him.

Lastly, Travis pulled condoms and lube out of a small box next to the couch. David's prick jerked hard and Travis inhaled sharply.

"Come here. No more delays. Fuck. It feels like I've been waiting forever for this." Travis brought them both down onto the bed. Skin touched skin and David's whole body instantly caught fire.

"Don't tease me, Travis," David whispered between kisses. "I want to feel you deep inside me."

Travis cursed. He crawled over him and carefully pushed his hands back over his head. "Don't move. Let me take care of you. Promise to make you fly."

David's blood was drumming in anticipation as Travis kissed his way along David's collarbone to chest. His lips gently teased and sucked one nipple and then gave the other the same attention before he trailed farther down. Yeah, maybe he was moving a bit too slow for David's liking, but Travis Sommer wasn't a tease. He proved it a moment later when he swallowed David's cock whole in one smooth move—David almost jumped off the bed.

"Fuck." Before he could stop himself, his hands came down on Travis's head—stroking his hair. Travis hummed in approval and the soft vibration sent shockwaves through David.

After a few minutes of total bliss, Travis pulled off and there was the distinct click of the lube lid.

Travis pushed David's legs up. Being this exposed sent a slow shivers went through David. He clawed the sheets.

"Hey, I've got you." Travis came up and placed a gentle kiss on David's lips—their tongues tangled.

Breaking their kiss, David whispered. "I'm fine." To make his point, he let his legs fall open. "It's been a while. I've forgotten how intense this is."

"You've forgotten how good—no, great sex feels?" Travis teased him. "Well, let me remind you."

It wasn't quite what David had meant, but Travis had given him an easy out.

He closed his eyes and settled back down as Travis swirled his tongue around the sensitive skin of his cockhead while one hand caressed his balls and then slowly moved farther, stroking between David's cheeks. A finger softly tapped against his hole and then started to circle the edge. It felt incredible. Almost too much and still not enough. A moan tore from David when Travis finally entered him and started to work one digit in and out—moving deeper with each thrust.

For a while he melted into the sheets, simply enjoying the sensation of Travis caressing him inside as he licked and nuzzled David's dick at the same time. After an eternity, one finger turned into two. Thrusting a little harder, Travis finally hit David's prostate. Liquid lightning raced down his spine and a ragged groan escaped. "Yeah. Damn, Trav. So good."

David's whole body flushed with heat, and after only a few strokes, pressure was building in his balls. "Too much. You keep this up and it will be over quickly." His voice was deep and gravelly. Travis eased up a little and then pulled out.

"What? No, don't stop. More. I'm ready. Fuck me."

"Dave, turn around. It'll be better, babe. I don't know how long it's been for you, but . . . you are tight."

"Eighteen months."

Travis blinked. Okay, so probably TMI. David quickly turned and settled on his hands and knees. Travis leaned over him, wrapping him in a loose embrace.

"Fucking beautiful. Been dreaming about this. I want you so bad. But tell me if I'm moving too fast." Travis's voice was a breathy whisper against David's heated skin. "I don't want to hurt you. Just say the word and I'll stop."

David nodded. He heard the tear of the condom wrapper. He twisted to check on Travis and caught him stroking his dick. The view in the golden afternoon sun almost made David come on the spot. Travis was a powerful man, with strong, defined muscles. His dick, fully erect, was glistening with pre-come. His breathing was hard and ragged, and his body shivered with every stroke.

Travis looked up and his moves faltered, but then he started circling over his head, pressing against his slit. His head fell back, and he let out a low moan.

David reached around with one hand and pulled his ass cheeks apart. "Fuck me, Travis. I need to feel you. Don't hold back."

"Oh God. David. You've no idea how much I want you." Suddenly, Travis was all over him again. Touching. Caressing. Kissing. David's desperate need to lose himself rushed back.

"Come. Fuck me." David rocked back against Travis, trying to hurry him along.

Still he tensed when Travis's hard-on pressed against his hole. Travis's free hand stroked soothingly over his spine, but to David's frustration, his muscles clenched. Travis immediately pulled back.

"Relax, babe. Let me in. This will be good."

Travis shifted behind him, the click of the lube came and his finger tapped against David's pucker again. Relief washed through him.

Damn. He hadn't been ready, and Travis had known. How? He was reading his body like an open book.

"Fuck yourself on my finger. Take what you need."

Oh God. Fuck. How does he . . . Travis Sommer seems to have the whole damn freaking manual on my body.

Carefully, he started to move—rocking back and forth and letting Travis finger-fuck him. Once Travis found his prostate, David soared. His brain shut down. All that was left was Travis's body wrapped around his and the soft strokes deep inside him. Travis's touch reached every neglected nerve buried under his skin and heat flooded his whole body "More. I need more."

Travis shifted. A few muttered curses and then his dick breached David. "So tight, oh fuck, love how tight you are."

David closed his eyes and pushed back as Travis sank into him with a few long strokes. The initial pain faded quickly to intense pleasure. Sparks shot through him. He loved the stretch, the pressure, the fullness. He loved getting fucked. At first Travis went slow to give David time to adjust, but soon, they settled into a deliberate rhythm—with Travis holding David firmly in place. David arched his spine to allow Travis deeper. Suddenly he wished he could see his lover's eyes, just to know if he looked as lost as David felt. Because beside all the electric currents that were running through his body, there were flashes of completeness, happiness, or whatever it was—an all-consuming euphoria that had taken hold of him.

Travis growled behind him. "Babe, I hope you're close, 'cause I—" He keened as he pushed forward. "I won't last. This . . . You . . . Too much . . . So good. I—"

With a swift tug, he hauled David against his chest and wrapped his left arm tightly around him while his lube-slicked hand gripping David's cock.

"Yes. I need this. Please," David pleaded. Craving more fiction, he covered Travis's hand with his own. "So good. More."

Travis pulled back and slammed into him. Short, fast strokes hammering his prostate sent him flying. Tremors raced through David and then, without warning, his orgasm exploded. He shattered into a thousand pieces—suddenly weightless—while Travis held him together.

When David slowly came back to earth, he was being crushed into the mattress with Travis sprawled over him. His firefighter was panting heavily, but not moving otherwise.

David twisted around to find a way to get his hands on him. With his brain only sluggishly coming back online, he never questioned this imperative need to get him closer.

"Travis," he whispered. Still no reaction. Only when David pulled Travis into his arms, only then did he let out a sigh and nestle his head against David's shoulder.

David relaxed as he drifted off to sleep—only to jerk awake what seemed seconds later when Travis tried to pull away.

"No. Stay," David mumbled and tightened his hold. He was too exhausted to fully wake up, so he was glad when Travis settled back down against him after wiggling a little. He had his firefighter where he wanted him and wasn't gonna let him go.

"Hey, Dave, wake up, honey. Wake up." Something was poking his ear.

"Leave me alone. Blissed out," David mumbled, trying to get rid of the persistent tickle.

There was a huff of hot air against his neck. "I'm all for a nice cuddle after amazing sex, but you've got me in a chokehold and we really should clean up. We'll be glued together if we don't. You've barely given me enough air to get the condom off."

"Oh shit. I'm sorry." David loosened his grip on Travis and pushed himself up from the bed, examining a deliciously disheveled Travis. "Fucked is a good look for you," he said with a smile.

"Ditto." Travis laughed as he rolled off the edge, stood, and stretched out a hand to pull David up. "Shower? Want to conserve some water?"

"Yeah. Sounds good."

David should have known that a shower with Travis would never be simply a shower. Travis seemed hell-bent on washing every inch of his body—more than once. It wasn't just sexual, but scarily intimate.

"That a firefighter thing?" David asked as he leaned against the tiles under the hot spray and let Travis wash his back for the second time.

"Huh?" The hands moving across David's shoulders like a gentle massage—stroking all the tension out of him—didn't stop.

"You said you like to clean up—"

"A firefighter thing? Gallagher, you're watching too much porn if you think there are orgies going on at the station." Travis gave his ass a soft slap and almost immediately David's eyes rolled back in his head and a low moan tore free. They both froze.

For a second, David wanted to run, but then his brain caught up with him.

Local police officer caught wet and buck naked on New Year's Day.

Shit, what was it with him and the flight reaction? Was that his first response to everything? At work that was never an issue. He had a stellar reputation in a crisis. This was just—

"It's a Travis thing." A warm body pressed against his back. "And there is a lot more where this came from. Your body is a masterpiece and I love touching you."

"Fucking poet." David tried to calm his out-of-control breathing. Travis held him close and simply leaned against him. There was no way he could miss David's heart beating like a sledgehammer, but he didn't comment. "C'mon, let's get out before we grow fins, and we need to find something to eat. I'm starving."

Travis slipped out first to get dressed and to bring David sweatpants and a shirt to the bathroom for him. David had barely dried off and pulled up his pants when the doorbell rang.

He was startled for a second, but then he heard Theo's voice through the closed door. He was probably bringing more stuff. For a second, David considered hiding in the bathroom. There was only one explanation what he was doing here, and David wasn't a hundred percent ready for it to be public knowledge. However, Theo had seen David and Travis kiss at the Shamrock, so it was a bit ridiculous to worry about his reputation. Hell, maybe Travis didn't even want his friends to know they'd slept together.

Pushing through his stupid insecurities, David quickly finished getting dressed and walked outside.

"I swear that's the last box. Don't be such a grump. You can stick them in your empty bedroom. And I brought you food to . . . Oh." Theo stopped as Travis jumped towards David and stood in front of him to . . . to do what exactly? To protective him from twinky Theo? To hide him? Fuck, David had been right. Travis didn't want his friends to see him here.

Theo's eyes widened, and then a huge grin appeared on his face. "Well, hello, David, good to see you again." Then, he spun and pointed his finger at Travis, who had taken a few steps away from David, probably realizing how weird his actions had been.

"You, Travis Sommer, are evil. I knew it. I knew you were hooking up with the delicious detective with the huge dick."

David choked on air. Delicious detective with what?

Theo walked over and poked Travis's chest. "I've got eyes. I saw you two at the Shamrock. I asked you and you just played it off. Not cool. We're friends—"

"Travis, where do you want me to put this?" The redhead from New Year's Eve was standing in the door with a huge box and another bag balanced precariously on top. His eyes caught David. He dropped the boxes with a loud bang. "Oh fuck." Without another word he pulled his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans and handed two twenties to Theo. "Should have known not to bet against you."

Theo took the money and nodded triumphantly. "Yeah, dumbass, I told you Travis has the hots for—"

"You bet on my, ehm, love life," Travis sputtered.

"Oh, that's what we're calling it. 'Love life'?" Theo's evil grin went even wider, and Travis turned beet red in a flash.

David couldn't help himself and broke out laughing. And promptly was rewarded with three pairs of surprised eyes. What? They don't think I have a sense of humor? This whole scene is ridiculous. You'd have to be dead to not find this funny.

Travis walked two steps his way again and then halted, but David didn't miss the warmth in his eyes, and it sent shivers down his spine.

"Awe . . . look at them, the two big tough guys are making googly eyes at each other. That is so cuuute."

"Shut the fuck up, Theo," Travis said without taking his gaze off David, but he broke into one of those crooked grins that David loved . . . Yeah, he fucking loved Travis's smile.

"So, are we're going to eat or what?" Red asked, interrupting the moment.

"No, you and I have a few more things to take care of," Theo said.

"What? No, you said this is the last box. We brought Thai and you said—"

"Change in plans. I don't need food. I need a drink. Come on, Ian, let's leave these two lovebirds alone—"

"But the food."

Travis and David had stood silently, following the exchange between Theo and his friend, but now Travis interrupted. "You don't have to leave. Judging by the boxes in these bags"—he waved back at the kitchen counter—"we'll have enough for everyone." He threw an apologetic glance over to David, but a smile was lingering on his face. Is he enjoying this? Glad his friends are here to see us together? David bit his lip. He was shit at reading him.

"Yes."

"No." Theo simply overrode his friend. "No, we're not getting between you two."

Unease slithered through David. That sounded way too couple-y. This is just a hookup. I can't cope with more right now. But before he could voice his concern, Red countered, "Oh, is that an option?" He moved closer to David with a seductive wink. His hands rose to touch David's shoulder. "I'd love to be in the middle of that man-sandwich. You can both—"

Travis growled—growled! His lover had gone from friendly with a crooked smile to furious—no, jealous? Travis was jealous? David tried to force all warm and gooey emotions that crashed through him deep down into the box labelled This is just a hookup.

"Don't poke the bear," Theo said waving his finger at Red. "Oh shit, that came out wrong. Not that Travis is overly hairy. No, not a bear." His eyes widened. "Not that I would know. Nothing ever . . . We're friends . . . not . . . Fuck. I'm just gonna shut up and take my slutty friend here and get out of your hair—way. We'll get out of your way."

David chuckled again but called, "Theo, wait." David faltered when Theo looked over. "I would appreciate if you could keep this under wraps." He kept his focus on Theo and Red so he didn't have to see the disappointment in Travis's face.

Theo gave him a curious glance, but nodded. "Got it, Detective. No worries. Just don't lead Travis on. He doesn't deserve that."

I won't, David tried to say, but the words stuck in his throat.

"Time to leave, Theo." Travis growled for the second time.

David forced a smile, trying to ignore the quick exchange. "And if you need anything, anything at all, call me, okay?"

"Thanks. I've got Ian here to keep me company." Theo gave his friend a little shove. "He's a bit of a horndog, but he is a good friend. He'll let me crash with him as long as I need a place."

David nodded and stretched out his hand to Red, who took it, clearly surprised. "Nice to meet you."

Ian blushed, which clashed awfully with his ginger hair. "Good to meet you too. And sorry for earlier, sometimes I manage to think before I talk, but not always."

Travis came up behind David. "Who do I owe for dinner?" His voice neutral—too neutral. He pulled money out of his wallet.

Ian nodded over to Theo, who said at the same time, "Nah, don't worry. It's rent for storage."

Travis ignored him and stuffed a few bills into the pocket of his jacket. Then he wrapped his friend in a quick hug. "Anytime. As Dave said, we're here if you need anything or if there's trouble."

Theo stayed in Travis's embrace for a long time and he was wiping his eyes when he finally reappeared. The guy was putting up a good front, but he was clearly struggling. Ian gently tugged his friend's sleeve and said, "C'mon, I'll buy you a drink or two."

Theo visibly pulled himself back together and managed a wobbly smile. "Sounds good. Let's go somewhere I can dance."

The two men shuffled out. The last thing David heard as they closed the door was Theo singing, "Travis and David sitting in a tree."

He let out a low groan.

"Don't worry. They understand. They're good guys—maybe a little silly—but they're not idiots like me," Travis said with a wry smile.

David had fully expected a flicker of temper from Travis—frustration that David had asked his friends to keep quiet, but instead his eyes softened as he walked towards David. Okay, so Travis wasn't easy to figure out, but David felt like he should say something—something nice, reassuring, but again the words wouldn't come. Damn. Maybe he should leave before he fucked up more.

But he couldn't put his scrambled thoughts into action, because Travis smoothly intervened, "And sorry for Ian. He hits on everything with a pulse." His eyes widened. "No, that— You— Fuck, I mean, you're gorgeous and he should totally hit on—"

"You growled," David said, unable to stop himself.

"Yeah, I growled. Don't like to share." Travis pulled him close. "Don't leave. I know you're thinking about it, but I've got all this Thai food now and I'm not eating it alone."

Travis leaned in for a kiss, and David closed his eyes. Hell, I don't want to leave. Against better judgement, David lost himself in all the teasing licks, gentle bites—he must have moaned, because Travis hummed softly in return as his tongue slid against David, coaxing his lips open.

After a minute, Travis eased back. "Tell me you'll stay tonight" he requested again. "I'm not ready to let you walk out of here. I want to feed you. Maybe turn on a hockey game. Hang out. Talk. Fuck in front of the fire. Stay?"

"Yes." Maybe it would be smarter to leave—safer for sure—but with Travis's hard body pressed against him and their lips fused together, David's brain just wasn't getting enough oxygen to make smart decisions—or at least that was his story.

Hours later, David was still glad hadn't left, even though it meant he'd be staying for the whole night, as snow was coming down hard, making it impossible for him to drive home. It had been a long time since he'd felt this relaxed. After talking about work over dinner, they'd turned on a hockey game, but instead of watching, they made out in front of the fire—unhurried, languidly. Unprompted, Travis had switched the channel and turned on late-night news—ending the day with a quick glance at what was going in the world seemed to be a habit they both shared—then Travis had given him some old pajama pants to sleep in.

David was checking his phone again, for the hundredth time tonight, but there was still nothing from his mom. Not a text or missed call. Nothing. He should have called Amy earlier to see if she'd heard from her. Now it was too late. Regret burned away some of his quiet contentment.

"Everything okay?" Travis asked. There was no way he'd missed David constantly reaching for his phone.

"Yeah, everything is fine," David lied as he watched Travis turn off all the lights in the apartment and then crawl into bed next to him.

"Do you need anything else?" Travis asked a little awkwardly into the dark silence.

"No, I'm good. Tired."

"Me too." Travis pulled the warm comforter over both of them and then carefully slid closer. His hand brushed over David's shoulder and settled on his chest—fingers spread out—his palm against David's heart. For a few moments, they lay quietly and David tried to relax again under Travis's touch. He was exhausted. It'd been a long day—after a few long weeks. He stared at the ceiling. The embers gave just enough light for him to see the dark wooden beams. Travis's fingers started to move, gentle strokes as if he were painting small circles on David's skin.

David should have tried harder to reach his mom. It'd now been thirty-six hours. What if she wouldn't come around—a shudder went through David and then another. He grabbed the comforter and balled his fists.

"David?" Travis's voice was soft, laced with concern.

"I wasn't completely honest yesterday. I messed up and dropped a bomb on my mom on New Year's Eve. I assumed she'd heard all the rumors, and she had—she just didn't believe them. We haven't spoken since." The words broke out of David. He hadn't meant to say anything. He pushed himself up and leaned against the back.

"Shit, that's rough." Travis sat up as well. "It explains why you were such a bear at the courthouse."

"I'm sorry for that. It wasn't fair to you—"

"Fuck, David, I outed you in front of your colleagues. You've taken a whole lot of shit from people since then. And now you're telling me that my dumb actions caused a rift between you and your mom." In the low glow of the burned-out fire, David could see Travis's deep frown. "I deserved everything you said and more—it was pretty fucking stupid for me to expect you to easily forgive me and move forward, but maybe . . . maybe I can be on your side going forward. I mean when anybody makes a stupid comment or there are problems, maybe I can be your friend—the one who listens, somebody you turn to. At least that's what I want to be if you give me chance."

David took Travis's words in for a second. He hadn't been able to talk to anyone about the whole clusterfuck he'd been trying to deal with the last weeks. After today, turning to Travis for support wasn't as farfetched as it had seemed a few days ago. Though a part of David still struggled with the fact that he as here—with Travis Sommer—pouring his heart out.

Travis twitched next to him, and David realized that he hadn't replied. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yeah." He leaned against Travis's shoulder, because it was late and he was fucking tired. Watching the glowing ashes, he started. "My mom isn't taking my calls or answering my texts since yesterday. I didn't realize what me coming out would mean to her until the very end—" His own voice sounded foreign to him. Rough. "My father leaving hurt—it fucking hurt. A few years ago, I started looking for answers, and I found out that my father is gay or bisexual, at least not straight. He left us for another man. He's living on the East Coast. Ottawa. He took the guy's last name—cut all ties to us, I guess. I wanted to understand why he left us, and I got more than I bargained for." David took a deep breath. "I always assumed my mom didn't know, but she said something to me New Year's Eve. She said 'You're not like him.' And she meant—she meant my dad. I didn't know she knew. I've never told her. I've never told anybody."

"David, I—"

"My mom and I, we never really fight."

They spoke at the same time, but Travis waved David on.

"Seeing her hurt is hard, and now, I understand that her denial goes a whole lot deeper than just, I don't know, ignoring the obvious." David's throat was closing up.

Travis was silent for a minute, but he reached for David's hand. "Okay I understand you a lot better now, but I'm not sure you should blame yourself. You're not him."

"No, of course not." But he'd needed someone to say it out loud. "No, I'm not him."

Travis's arm came around him and pulled him closer. David buried himself in his chest and whispered, "I just want to talk to her again. I mean, I get that all the gossip made it hard for her. People weren't always kind when they speculated about my sexual orientation. You heard Fuller, right? I think she was defending me and now feels let down. It's on me. I fucked up."

"Fuller is an asshole. I get your point, but David, make sure you don't take responsibility for anybody's reaction, even your mom's. It's on them—not on you."

Travis's arms wrapped tighter around David. And hell if he didn't need that too because he was on the edge of falling apart. Still, he managed to choke out, "I wanted you to know—so that you understand, okay, because I can't—I can't make any promises."

Promises? Where had that come from? He was probably jumping the gun here. This was just one day—one night—who knew what would happen tomorrow. After all, Travis was out—had fought for respect as a gay firefighter while David was still lurking in the closet.

David sucked in another breath and forced his fists to relax. "I don't—I don't want to talk about it. Let's just go to sleep, okay?"

With a few subtle movements, Travis shifted them around and pressed his whole body against David's. He gently stroked David's skin and made weird little hushing and cooing sounds.

For a while David listened, but then he chuckled. "You know I'm not a spooked kitten that you need to lure out of a tree."

Travis immediately stopped. "I'm trying to comfort you, asshole," he grumbled, but David felt the brush of lips on his shoulder and turned over. Their lips found each other in the dark. Travis pushed himself up to deepen the kiss, and David pulled him on top, letting the weight press him into the mattress. After a few minutes, the tension seeped out of David, and he just felt tired. He should be freaking out—he'd told Travis a part of his past that he usually kept buried deep inside, but the panicked flight reaction didn't come. Instead his eyes fluttered shut and he snugged deeper into Travis's embrace.

"David, I meant what I said. If you ever need a friend, I'm here. But there is something else I wanted to talk about. I . . ."

David waited, his heart pounding, but Travis didn't continue. He lifted up his head and tried to read Travis's face, but there wasn't enough light anymore. The last embers had died down. Gently, he nudged Travis's shoulder.

"Nah, it's okay. Let's try to get some sleep. It's late," Travis mumbled.

They settled back down. The room was pitch-black now. Lying in the dark, David listened to the wind howling around the building and the faint sounds of traffic. He tried to steel himself for tomorrow—the awkward day after and the "talk" Travis wanted to have.

Travis didn't seem to be sleeping either. His breathing was too even, too quiet. David turned and pulled him closer into his arms, and then relaxed when Travis came willingly—burrowing into David's embrace. He inhaled Travis's scent—spicy with vanilla, clean sweat, male. At least for tonight, he had this, even if it wasn't going to last.

David startled awake. Slightly disoriented, he tried to figure out why he wasn't in his own bed at home. A low grunt from the warm body beside him instantly reminded him of last night. Travis. His firefighter's back was stretched beside him, and David's morning wood was nestled against his ass cheek. Wow. Heaven.

They were tangled up in each other beneath Travis's warm comforter, but David could feel the cooler air beyond. The form next to him started to move. Instinctively, David pulled him back, not ready to give up the warm coziness of their cocoon of blankets. Travis froze, and David wondered if he was still welcome. But Travis alleviated his concerns when he pushed his whole body back against David's.

"Hey, you don't have to work today, right?" Travis's voice was rough with sleep.

"No. No plans for today."

"Good. It's only six thirty. Let's get a few more winks."

Travis disappeared under the comforter again and nestled back into his spot against David's chest. He let out a low sigh of contentment that made David smile.

David wasn't much of a sleeper. He usually was up early, and he fully expected to stay awake. But the peacefulness around him, Travis's even breathing, and the feel of warm skin sent him straight back to slumber.

A low curse woke him what seemed to be only minutes later. He was alone on the sofa-bed thing, but he could hear Travis close by. There was a clatter of . . . pots and pans? And a steady stream of colorful, muffled swears. David listened for a few minutes, but curiosity got the better of him and he pushed himself up to peek over the back of the couch. Travis's apartment wasn't large, so he had a good view into the kitchen.

Dressed only in sweatpants, Travis was standing at the stove with a serious frown on his face. From a distance, it looked like he was trying to flip an uncooperative pancake.

"Need some help there, Sommer?"

Travis dropped the spatula, and splatters of batter flew across the counter.

"Shit." A frustrated glare hit David, but it was immediately replaced by a wide smile. "You're awake. Did I wake you?"

"Nah, 's'all good. What are you doing?"

"I'm making breakfast. Pancakes. I'm just not very good at it. At the firehouse, they keep me away from the stove."

"Let me get up and help."

"You don't have to. It's still early if you want to sleep more."

"No, I'm good. I can't even remember the last time I slept this long." David stood and stretched while he searched for his own pants. Travis's pj's were too loose on him and had nearly dropped to his ankles when he stood up.

"If you want any food this morning, you better put some clothes on," Travis growled from the stove. Smirking, David found his jeans and swiftly pulled them on. Travis's eyes went wide. "Commando? Are you trying to kill me here?"

David chuckled. "Just give me a minute and I'll help, okay?"

In Travis's oversized bathroom, David looked at himself in the mirror. His hair was sticking up in several directions and—oh shit—he had love bites on his shoulders and chest. But the worst was the goofy, happy grin on his face. This was crazy.

When he came out, the whole room smelled like bacon. David opened his mouth to comment, but then he saw Travis leaning against the counter, his shoulders tensed and his head lowered. Smoke was rising from the frying pan.

"Better check those pancakes," David prompted, even as anxiety did loops in his stomach.

"Shit." Travis jumped into action. He gave David a quick smile but then avoided eye contact.

Suppressing a sigh, David grabbed a cup from the open cabinet and poured himself some coffee. Travis's phone was buzzing on the kitchen counter. "You're gonna check that?"

"Nope. That's Theo." The phone buzzed again. And again.

"What's up?" David asked, alarmed. How could Travis just ignore the texts from his friend? "Anything happen with his ex? Does he need help?"

"No." Travis turned. "Theo wants details. Lots of details. Preferences. Stamina. Size . . . exact size. Kink."

David choked on his coffee. "Excuse me?"

Travis laughed, and then he pointed back to the stove. "So, I have pancakes and bacon."

"Interesting combination," David teased, relieved by Travis's levity. Maybe I'm worrying too much. He went to check his own phone and then dropped it on the counter with a frown.

"Nothing?" Travis asked quietly.

"No." Shaking off the disappointment, David added, "So, pancakes and bacon, huh?"

"Yeah, I wasn't sure what you'd like. We can whip up some eggs if you don't do carbs . . ." Travis pulled his brows together. "Carbs and fat."

"Usually, I just have a cup of coffee. Not really a breakfast person."

"What? Why didn't you say anything?" There was a bit of a blaze in Travis's eyes.

"And miss all this? No way." David stepped closer and almost pulled his vexed firefighter into an embrace, but he wasn't sure he was welcome. He added honestly, "I can't even remember the last time anybody went through so much trouble to make me breakfast."

Just then David's stomach let out a loud growl. They both started laughing, and Travis said, "Well, let me feed you first. Didn't you say you're not a breakfast person?"

"Usually, I don't sleep until ten in the morning, so I'm blaming it all on you."

As soon as the words were out, he regretted them, but Travis answered good-naturedly, "Sure. I can take it." Then he pointed to the coffee machine. "Would you get me a refill while you're at it?"

After filling up two mugs, David grabbed his T-shirt and pulled it on while Travis served their plates. They settled down to eat. It wasn't the best breakfast David had ever had. The pancakes were pretty sweet, and the bacon slightly burned, but watching Travis across from him at the small table made up for it. Travis had pulled on an old flannel shirt, but left it unbuttoned, giving David tantalizing views of naked skin and well-defined abs.

Travis broke the silence first. "I know it's not gourmet. I'm not a great cook."

"Don't worry, neither am I. It's good. Better than anything I have in my fridge at home."

For a moment they both just sat there, then Travis cleared his throat. "Listen, we should talk."

David's breakfast turned to lead inside him. Fuck. Here we go. He wasn't sure what he feared more—Travis simply sending him home right now or pushing him to come out, because in the end, both would mean the same. Why should Travis bother with a guy who didn't have his act together and was stuck halfway in the closet?

He focused on the burned bacon on his plate. It crumbled under his fork. "Okay."

"New Year's Eve and yesterday—it was great. It's been a while since I've had such a good time," Travis started. "And I meant what I said last night. I can't undo the damage I've caused, but I'd like to be your friend—"

"'Friend'?" David echoed. He dropped his fork and leaned back in his chair. Friends should be fine—great actually—but somehow it rubbed him the wrong way.

"Shit. That's not what I meant." Travis brushed through his hair, causing it to stick up in all directions. "But, David, I'm looking for something real—I mean, I'm not interested in casual. I'd like to find a guy and, you know, see where it goes."

David's heart sank six feet. That was it, then. God, I wish this wasn't it. He drew in a long breath. "Okay."

"Okay? Okay what?" Travis shoved his plate aside. Tension radiated off him.

"I get that you're looking for something serious—totally." He waved around Travis's carefully arranged apartment. "And I'm—I'm not the guy for you." Oh hell, saying it out loud fucking hurt. But how could it hurt? He'd known this moment would be coming. And he had to be fair. He couldn't lead Travis on and make promises he couldn't keep. David had been here before with Sven. Back then, the two of them had had so many long and painful discussions, and the result had been predictable—and still devastating. Never again. A fast exit was better.

David's phone rang. Joe's ring. On autopilot, he pushed his chair back, stood up, and grabbed his cell from the counter. But he didn't pick up. Instead he stared blindly at the screen.

"You're not?" Travis sounded strangled.

"Travis, I—" David squeezed his eyes shut. His hands were shaking slightly, and he tightened them around his phone. "I can't be. You're out and you don't care what anyone else thinks. And I'm not—I care."

Travis stood as well and took a half step in David's direction. "I know—I know you care and I l—respect that about you." His voice had a heated pitch. "But don't give that asshole Fuller and those idiots at the station so much power over your life. Fuck, David. For once don't focus on other's expectations—not even mine—for once just meet your own: What do you want?"

All the air left David's lungs and his heart pounded so hard he felt almost sick. The phone, which had briefly fallen silent, began to ring again, harsh in the quiet. David looked at his screen—his vision was blurry. Oh damn. "Sorry. I—I have to get this. It's Joe. It could be work."

David flinched as he unlocked his phone. He expected Travis to be pissed that he was taking the call, but there was only a touch of resignation. "Sure. Go ahead."

Joe's voice blared into his ear as soon he answered the phone. "Hey, Gallagher, happy New Year."

David tried to focus. "What's up?"

Travis had walked back into the kitchen, and started to clean up their dishes. His moves were sluggish—lacking their usual fluency—and he kept his back turned towards David—shutting him out. He's giving up on me.

"Huh? No 'Happy New Year' for me? What crawled up your ass? You've been in a nasty mood for weeks. C'mon, man, it's a new year. You don't want to start it hanging on to the same old shit."

Just forty-eight hours ago, David had given the same advice to Theo. "It's a new year. A new start. Too precious to mess it up with the same old shit." Like walking out on another great guy?

Joe was still talking. "Can you imagine? It was so bad, Boomer said he's gonna retire next year, right before New Year's. I'm glad we had the night off. Anyway, I was wondering if you want to stop by for lunch. Marga's brothers are here, and we're having a spontaneous late New Year's Day party."

"I'm with . . . a friend." That's what David had called Sven—a friend. Goddamn. Same. Old. Shit. It hit him with painful clarity. He wanted more days like today. He wanted to wake up every day with Travis wrapped around him. Have someone around who cared enough to make breakfast for him. And most of all, he wanted to look at himself in the mirror covered in hickeys and a blissed-out grin on his face like this morning. He was tired of being alone—tired of missing out. Travis was right. David was tired of sacrificing what he wanted for himself.

"No problem. Just bring them along." Joe probably said a few more things, but David didn't catch any of it. Travis had stopped moving around. He was standing in front of the fridge, but instead of opening it, he just leaned his head against the surface.

And somehow, suddenly the words came easy. "Not a friend. I'm with someone."

"You're . . . what? No way." Joe caught himself quickly. "Okay, wow, cool. If you want to bring—"

"Him." David filled the gap. "I'm with . . . I'm gay." He couldn't help the death grip on his phone. Last time he'd said these words to somebody he cared about, it hadn't gone well.

"Well, thank you, I'm honored that you feel you can trust me with— Fuck. I can't say that. My wife ain't gonna be happy. She said I need to be supportive, but . . . Duh!"

David almost dropped his phone. A stifled laugh escaped. "'Duh'? That's what you have to say?"

"Yes. Duh! And also I don't give a shit."

David slowly released the breath he'd been holding.

Joe just continued. "So if you want to bring Sommer along, no problem—"

"What? How—how do you know it's Travis?"

"Travis? Aww, that's sweet." Joe snorted. "I'm a detective, remember? Give me some credit, partner. You had your crush nicely covered under your pissy attitude and you two had a bad start, I grant you that, but whenever you thought nobody was watching—"

Travis. David looked up. Travis was still standing, completely still, by the fridge.

"I—I got to go. Bye, Joe. And thank you."

David hung up, a curious feeling of elation mixed in with his lingering anxiety. He'd done it. He'd come out . . . at work. Holy shit.

Travis finally moved his hand over his face. David could hear him suck air into his lungs.

David took a step forward. He wanted to reach out so badly, but instead he froze. "Travis?"

"You told him about us. Why did you do that?" Travis said eventually. "I didn't— I— Why now? You shouldn't—" He shook his head.

For a second David felt as if somebody had pulled the rug and now he was tumbling down a set of stairs. What did I do wrong?

"I don't understand," he said—his voice a hoarse whisper. "You don't want people to know? I assumed . . ."

Suddenly his win over anxiety felt hollow, because he wanted Travis more than anything. He wanted the stubborn investigator, the short-tempered, cocky firefighter with a chip on his shoulder, and the man who was fiercely determined to build a home—the one who had snuck into David's world and turned it upside down. Until now, David had been too busy freaking out and he had missed . . .

Clearing his throat, he tried to speak up again. Damn. So fucking stupid. He'd worried about the likes of Fuller and in the process had let Travis slip away.

Travis raised his hand. "I just want to be sure this isn't like East Street all over again. That was so fucked up."

"East Street?" David couldn't see the connection.

"Yeah. I messed up, but I want to do better. This time, I wanted to be patient for once—wait for you. I don't want to be the guy who pushes you. I want to be on your side—a real friend—"

Travis grabbed the back of the kitchen chair. His knuckles turned white. His head lowered. David's heart broke. Fuck. Finally, he got it: his bold firefighter's own fears were getting in the way.

Softly he said, "Travis. Baby, I—I want to take you on a date. Maybe we could go to Vancouver for a day or two. Away from everything. Simply take the pressure off. A friend moved down there with his boyfriend earlier this year. Full disclosure, Sven is my ex, but we haven't been together for almost two years. We're just friends. He's madly in love with Jayden now and he—they've invited me a few times. I know it's quite a drive, but it's been a while since I've been in Vancouver, and I think it would be fun . . ." Shit, he was babbling. "If you're interested?"

"Vancouver? A date?" Travis asked, his voice packed with hesitation.

David took a few steps forward. "A date. I want us to be together and—as you said—just see where this goes."

"But—"

"No but." Why were they so fucking far apart? David needed Travis in his arms right now. He'd waited his whole fucking life for this—for Travis. His body catapulted across the room. "You need to let it go. I know you feel guilty about what happened that night. The fight. Everything. But you need to let it go—" A slow smile spread over Travis's face, completely derailing David's speech, so instead he reached out to cradle Travis's face—reveling in the scruff, an unshaven Travis was rare, but even hotter.

"You've forgiven me, then?" Despite the grin, there were still traces of disbelief in Travis's voice.

"Well, it may cost you," David joked, but then he added more seriously, "Already have. I'm ready to move on. Just let it go."

David tried to close the gap between them, but Travis stopped him. "Okay, but David, I just want you to know I've learned my lesson from that night, from being around you. I haven't been in a fight for a long time—since you talked to the chief. People don't do that for me very often—stand up for me—take personal risk. You make me want to prove to you that I'm worth it." His voice dropped to a whisper. "Don't lead me on. I— Fuck—" Travis lowered his head, but not before David caught the mix of hope and fear in his eyes.

David brushed his lips over Travis forehead. "I'm not. And while we're confessing. You didn't put any pressure on me. I came out to Joe for myself. I finally put two pieces of me together that I've kept separate for too long and it feels good—fucking great. I'm thirty-two years old. The one and only relationship I've ever had fell apart because I didn't come out. Now, I'm thinking maybe I wasn't with the right guy, because . . . Fuck, Travis Sommer, you didn't put pressure on me, but you're worth it, and I'll spend a lot of time proving that to you."

Travis's shoulders dropped, and David felt the tension draining out of him. Their lips were almost touching now. Travis's breath brushed over David's skin. "You don't need to prove anything to me. And I don't need you to please me, meet my expectations, or shit like that. Never. Because I fell for the guy who fucking hated me. Even when everything went wrong, I couldn't get over how fucking amazing you are. Straightforward. Uncompromising without being an asshole about it. You stood up for me when you thought I was being bullied and the way you helped Theo—" Travis finally gave in and leaned against David, who eagerly pulled him into his arms. "Dave, you have no idea. The whole time, I wished I could turn the clock back and fix it . . . keep my mouth shut . . . or knock the guy out before he ever mentioned your name—"

"Yeah, that sounds more like you."

Travis grinned. "Nope. Reformed. No fighting. Never again."

David raised an eyebrow. Shaking his head, he stepped back into Travis's personal space. "Right . . ."

"Fuck. Okay—work in progress. I'll make it my New Year's resolution."

David laughed. "Same here. I might struggle with being openly gay for a while. Don't give up on me. Work in progress."

"I can live with that," Travis whispered as he pulled David into a kiss. It started slow and gentle, but it turned heated quickly. Travis cupped David's head and deepened the kiss—his tongue probing at first and then exploring possessively.

When Travis suddenly moved back, a dismayed whimper escaped David. The pain he'd felt earlier when he thought he'd lost Travis came back and turned into overwhelming need. He'd almost lost this, and now he wanted to touch, feel, taste—

"I want you. Now." Their lips came together again—hungry, eager.

Travis's next words barely registered over the rushing of blood in David's veins.

"I want to suck you off. I didn't get enough of you last night." Scarcely waiting for David to agree, Travis dropped to his knees and with a few quick moves, freed David's cock from his jeans. Cradling his hard-on with one hand, Travis tilted forward to lick the tip and then swirl his tongue around the head.

David leaned heavily against the counter just trying to stay upright. Flushed lips wrapped around his dick. Heat engulfed him. The night before, Travis had taken his time and it had been incredible, but even then David had struggled to be patient. Now he couldn't handle slow and gentle exploration, but it felt different. Yesterday, David had wanted to lose himself for a few hours; at this moment, all he wanted was to get as close to Travis as possible.

"Oh fuck. Trav." His hips bucked forward—effectively pushing himself into Travis's warm mouth, almost choking him.

"Fuck. Sorry." David tried to pull back, but Travis's strong hands wrapped around his ass and held him in place. Travis let out a low hum and looked up. Their eyes locked.

"You're so fucking hot," David whispered as he brushed his hand over Travis's dark hair. Travis wrapped his lips tighter around David's cock and started sucking him without breaking eye contact. David lasted about three seconds before a guttural moan was pulled from the depth of his soul. Travis took his own dick out and started to stroke himself while he deep-throated David. Travis's low humming sounds sent shockwaves of pleasure through David. Hands down the most intimate blowjob he'd ever had, but it was still not enough.

"Stop." David panted. "I don't want to come like this."

Travis stopped. "What's wrong?"

"I want us to be closer—together. Naked. I want to hold you—no, kiss you. Please." Clearly, Travis had reduced David's brain to pudding, because he couldn't get the words out right, but somehow his lover seemed to get them anyway.

"Come back to bed with me. Now."

While frantically getting rid of the last pieces of clothing, they tumbled into the unmade bed. Travis crawled over David's body and brought their lips together in another wet, openmouthed kiss—both rock-hard, grinding against each other. David roamed his hands over Travis's naked back. "Yes. More. You feel so good," he whispered against heated skin.

"Dave, I'm too close." Travis spit in his hand, wrapped it around both of them, and started to stroke their cocks. David managed to push his own hand between them and cover Travis's as he thrusted into their combined hold. Bolts of pleasure shot through him.

"This okay?" Travis asked, gasping for air. "I don't think I can wait. I need—just need—" He accompanied his words with a few hard, fast strokes. David's vision blurred and he squeezed his eyes shut.

"Oh God. Yes. Yes."

A breathless groan was the only response, and David felt a flare of pride that he'd reduced Travis to moans and grunts. He pushed his head back as he rocked hard into their hands. For the next few minutes, they were a tangled mess of strokes, thrusts, naked skin, and sweat.

When Travis bit David's shoulder, he came with a hoarse cry. Stars danced behind his closed eyes. His cock pulsed and come shot between them. After a few vicious strokes, Travis went rigid in David's arms, let out another strangled moan, and then collapsed on top of him.

Waves of aftershock kept running through David, while Travis's weight pushed him hard into the mattress. Still gasping for air, he nudged Travis to the side so that he could kiss him again. The sloppy, messy kiss was the best one yet—yet being the operative word. I'm never gonna let him go was his last thought before he dozed off with his arms tightly wrapped around Travis. No, actually, his last thought was that his lover was probably going to bitch again that David had him in a chokehold. And somehow that thought made David even happier.

"I honestly never thought that twenty-four hours of kissing and fucking could change my whole life," David said. He was fully dressed, sitting on the edge of the bed. It was dark again—snowflakes swirling outside the tall widows. The only source of light inside was the fire. Travis's skin glowed golden from the flames.

"Ass." Travis chuckled. "Well, that's my magical dick." He pushed his comforter aside to give David a glance at his flaccid penis resting in a nest of dark curls. David laughed and grabbed hold of Travis's hand. He placed a few small kisses on his knuckles and then nuzzled it.

"I really have to go or I'll be late for dinner with my mom. Your idea to text her and tell her I'll bring dinner tonight was a good one."

"I guess she took offense at the implied criticism of her cooking skills. Can't believe she's making lasagna for you instead," Travis joked, but then he got serious again. "Not sure if I can take the credit, but I'm glad it worked. Make sure you call me after, no matter how late. And I'm here. If things don't go well, come back, okay? I have to get up at five for my shift, but we'll make it work."

David nodded. "Thanks."

Travis leaned forward and brushed his lips against David's. Of course, they didn't stop there, but instead deepened the kiss. David marveled how familiar the slide of Travis's tongue felt against his own.

"So fucking hot," David whispered when they finally came up for air. "That's what I thought when I saw you for the first time across the bar. Strong jaw. Beautiful eyes. Fucking hot. I wanted to kiss you so bad—"

A flicker of regret flashed in Travis's eyes. "Babe, I'm—"

David put a finger against Travis's lips. "I just meant that there was something between us from the start. Shit got complicated, but I think I knew back then that you'd be difficult to ignore."

That was probably a cheesy thing to say, but sometime this afternoon between discussing their favorite movies, most disgusting pizza toppings, and the perfect blowjob technique, David had stopped censoring his words.

"You can't say stuff like this and then walk out the door. It already sucks that I'll have to wait three days before I can see you again." Travis moved closer, and suddenly David had his arms full of a very naked firefighter.

"I'll try and change a few things around; right now our schedules don't align well, but we'll figure it out," David said, while pulling Travis closer.

"Yeah, and the first weekend we're free together, we'll go and visit your friends in Vancouver. I have a few vacation days saved up I can take as well. I'm excited. It's been a while since I was down there."

"Sounds good."

For a few moments they just sat silently, then Travis said, "You do have to go or you'll be late. And we can't have that . . . I don't want to be a bad influence on the perfect David Gallagher."

David stood up, in the process dumping Travis back into bed. "Don't call me that." He growled. "And you aren't a bad influence."

"Believe me. People will say differently."

David crawled over Travis and kissed him again. "I don't care." He wasn't going to worry about other people's opinions anymore. After all, it was a new year.

Dear Reader,

Thank you for reading AG Meiers's Perfect Kiss!

We know your time is precious and you have many, many entertainment options, so it means a lot that you've chosen to spend your time reading. We really hope you enjoyed it.

We'd be honored if you'd consider posting a review—good or bad—on sites like Goodreads, Tumblr, Twitter, Facebook, and your blog or website. We'd also be honored if you told your friends and family about this book. Word of mouth is a book's lifeblood!

For more information on upcoming releases, author interviews, blog tours, contests, giveaways, and more, please sign up for our weekly, spam-free newsletter and visit us around the web:

Newsletter: riptidepublishing.com/newsletter

Twitter: twitter.com/RiptideBooks

Facebook: facebook.com/RiptidePublishing

Goodreads: tinyurl.com/RiptideOnGoodreads

Tumblr: riptidepublishing.tumblr.com

Thank you so much for Reading the Rainbow!

RiptidePublishing.com

Once again, a huge thank-you to the whole Riptide team, for giving a rookie author a chance, and a special thanks to Caz, editor extraordinaire, for all the help. And always, always thank you to my amazing husband and my two awesome kids. I could never do this without your support.

Perfect Match

Eighteen years ago, AG Meiers came to the US for adventure and stayed for love. Currently, she lives in New England with her husband and two awesome kids—balancing work, friends and family, and writing.

When she has some free time, her favorite thing to do is travel and visit new places. Her past trips have already brought her to a variety of countries on four continents. She never passes up an opportunity to experience different cultures, diverse people and amazing locations.

Even though she has been dreaming up stories all her life, she has only recently started to write them down and share them with the world. As a writer she loves to put her characters through a lot of challenges, conflict, and heartbreak, before she allows them to find their happy ever after.

Connect with AG Meiers:

Website: www.agmeiers.com

Facebook: facebook.com/ag.meiers.1

Enjoy more stories like Perfect Kiss at RiptidePublishing.com!

A Fortunate Blizzard

There are worse things than being stranded in a blizzard.

riptidepublishing.com/products/a-fortunate-blizzard

Rebound Remedy

"A heartwarming holiday story with a hefty side order of hot, steamy sex!" –Booklist

riptidepublishing.com/products/rebound-remedy

