

The Artist's Boxer

Yours to Protect: Book One

Este Holland

The Artist's Boxer

Copyright © 2019 by Este Holland.

All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

For information contact :

(estehollandauthor@gmail.com; www.esteholland.com)

Book and Cover design by Este Holland
Chapter 1

Vegas—Rake

"Punch his lights out, kid!"

Luis's voice boomed over the roar of the crowd as Rake ducked and bobbed. His fist flew out and connected to Ramon's jaw, felling him like a dead tree. The fans all said Rake's fists were heat-seeking missiles, disconnected from his body.

Luis Orvidas, Rake's manager, and Hunter, his best friend and one if his trainers, knew otherwise. He'd perfected his hits and worked on his strength and reflexes since he was nine years old. His father had insisted on it.

He waited and bounced on his toes as the ref counted down from ten.

"Three, two, one." The ref slapped the floor of the ring and stood.

Rake's hand was up in the air before he could blink, and the crowd stood on its feet and went crazy. Luis and Hunter ducked under the ropes and lifted him onto their shoulders.

He'd done it. He'd won. The joy came in a hot rush.

His stomach somersaulted as the men bounced him on their arms and lowered him. He hugged them both with slaps on their backs.

A salt-and-pepper-haired man named Jonesy stuck a mic in his face. "Rafael da Silva, how does it feel to be the new welterweight champion?"

"It's surreal. I've been training for this my whole life. I owe a lot to my trainer and best friend, Hunter Champ, and my manager, Luis. It's definitely been a team effort."

After a few more questions, he climbed out of the ring and was congratulated by dozens of people. Luis ran off with Dick Martin, one of the biggest sports agents around, so endorsements were coming. He didn't know what to think about that. He'd be shit at acting in commercials.

Alone, Rake sat in the freezing locker room while his ears rang from the sudden harsh silence. His father, Ray, hadn't come. What else had Rake expected? Being owned by the Corsetti crime family didn't give one a lot of free time for things like supporting your son. Not that he'd anticipated anything different.

The doors opened with a bang, and Rake paused as he unraveled his tape. Ramon came in, still wobbling from Rake's last hit. They stared as the bloodlust tried to reclaim them, but being professionals, they held it at bay. They nodded at each other, and that was it.

After a shower, Rake left in his Toyota. Maybe he could buy a new car after his winnings were deposited into his bank account...after he paid the taxes on them, of course. His father had beat that into his brain, sometimes literally. "Never give the feds an excuse to look your way, Rake. The fuckers would do anything to get a piece of the Corsettis."

Raymond da Silva suffered from delusions of grandeur. He fancied himself an important mobster, when in reality he was a glorified accountant. Sure, he was a criminal, but just because he had regular monthly meetings with Damian Corsetti did not mean he was a "made" man.

"Whoever has the money has the power." His father's favorite saying came to him, and the truth of it rang in his ears.

His fingers tightened on the steering wheel. With this win, technically, Rake was a millionaire...and his father would know it. Damian Corsetti would too. Not that Rake owed him a damn thing, but Corsetti wouldn't see it that way. He'd want his cut, like he did with every fight in Vegas. His men spread out into the Vegas streets like a virus and took what they wanted, paying off cops as they went.

Rake dragged in a deep breath and released it along with his anger. He wanted to let the rage loose, but it'd be pointless. He saved that for the ring.

He needed a drink. He took a left and wound around some alleys and one-way streets until he came to Hollywood and Wine, Hunter's bar. He parked in the employee lot, and as he reached the door, it opened with a bang. Lila came out carrying a black trash bag.

"Rake!" She hurried over, and he picked her up. The bag hit him on some fresh bruises, but he didn't mind.

"Hey, Lila."

"Congrats on the fight! We were all watching." He set her down, and she eyed his battered face. "How are you?"

"I'm fine. Can't even feel it."

"Is that a good thing?" Lila laughed as she chucked the bag into the dumpster. "Come on in and have a drink on the house."

Rake followed the petite brunette into the bar. The atmosphere was perfect with its dark, noir theme. Pictures of Bogart and Bacall, Stanwyck and Cagney adorned the burgundy walls. The bar took up half the front room. Rake ran an admiring hand over the smooth wood as he sat on his favorite stool. Custom ordered by the previous owner, the bar was the main reason Hunter had wanted this place. He'd sunk every penny he had into buying and fixing it up, and it showed.

Rake smiled as everyone congratulated him and asked for autographs, then took a sip of the bourbon that appeared in front of him.

Hunter had beaten him there, taken his favorite spot behind the bar, and pulled beer on tap. He wore a black T-shirt with the name of the bar. A tall man with blond hair—lighter than Rake's own dirty blond—his green eyes crinkled with laughter. "How're you feeling, Champ?"

Rake grinned. "I'm fine right now. It'll hurt in the morning. He's not called The Hammer for nothing."

"I know. I was there watching him pound your ass."

Rake waited a beat before he smirked. "Now that would have been a much more fun way to spend my night."

Hunter laughed and shook his head. "You have issues, my friend. Public indecency is a crime."

"Hey, I've never been convicted."

Rake's fingers sought out the little brass plaque underneath the lip of the bar. He'd long ago memorized the name and address of the marker. He traced the letters: Rio Danvers - Metal and Woodworking. Riverbend, Utah.

"Want another?" Hunter asked as he drained his glass.

Rake shook his head. "Better not. Have you heard from Ray?"

Hunter's frown was all he needed for an answer. Rake nodded and swallowed, keeping his gray eyes on Hunter's.

"What do you think he's going to do?"

"I don't know," Rake said. "He'll probably try and collect for Corsetti."

"Luis—"

"Luis can't do shit. And he wouldn't anyway."

Hunter sighed. He knew the score. He was born and raised in Vegas, running in and out of bars and boxing rings his whole life, just like Rake. It was their way of life.

"Let me know if you need anything." A commotion by the pool table caught Hunter's attention, and he straightened from his lean while flexing his wide shoulders. "Time for some fun."

Rake stood and followed Hunter as he rounded the bar and walked toward the rear. Two men plowed their fists into each other's stomachs. The smell hit him first. One of them had puked after being hit.

One of the hangers-on shouted at his friend, but the men didn't stop.

Hunter pulled the big guy off by his arms and locked him in a half nelson. The other rounded on them with blood in his eye.

The friend grabbed his shoulder. "Shithead, knock it off! Can't you see that's Rake da Silva?"

Hunter's guy stuttered. "F-fuck. Okay. I'm fine. Let go."

Rake lifted a brow.

The one standing cocked his head and studied Rake. "You ain't bare-knuckling."

Rake grinned. "Shithead, was it?" He nodded and cracked his sore knuckles. "Let's see what you've got."

Shithead scowled and jerked forward with a wild haymaker. Rake shook his head and lifted his fist. It connected to the other man's ribs so fast, the small crowd gasped. Shithead sucked in air, or tried to, and doubled over when he realized he could no longer breathe.

"Dammit, Rake. Did you break his ribs?" Hunter deposited his cargo in a booth and told him to stay.

Rake shook his head. "Nah. Just knocked the wind out of him."

The man kneeled on the floor, one hand on his ribs while the other clutched the edge of the pool table.

He cringed. "I think."

"Very impressive, Rafael."

A chill raced up Rake's spine. That voice. Even over the yells of the crowd and the music playing through the speakers, it stood out, low and serene, like looking into a deep well when you were dying of thirst. The well had what you needed, but you'd drown before getting it.

Rake turned to meet his fate.
Chapter 2

Riverbend—Rio

"You'll never give up your heart."

Rio watched his sort-of not-boyfriend, Chaze, pace around his living room with one shoe on, his short black hair a mess as he ran his fingers through it. "You'd give me your kidney, your money, your house. Hell, you'd probably die for a complete stranger, Rio, but you won't ever love me. Not like I need. As more than a friend you occasionally fuck."

No reply came to Rio's mind. Chaze was right, so what could he say? He wouldn't lie. "I'm really sorry." Rio stood and walked over to stop Chaze's pacing. "You deserve more than that. More than me."

Chaze closed his eyes and exhaled long and loud. "Stop being so goddamned nice."

Rio stepped away and shoved his hands into the back pockets of his jeans.

Chaze came after him with a contrite frown. "I'm sorry. That was out of line. It's not a bad thing to be nice." He grabbed Rio's broad shoulders and slanted his dark eyes up to meet his. "But you aren't passionate about me, and you never will be."

Rio nodded. He didn't have anything else to say, and they'd been around each other enough that Chaze recognized his expression. He frowned and turned away.

After locating his other shoe, he grabbed his jacket and keys and opened Rio's front door. "Bye, Rio. I had fun."

"Good-bye, Chaze. I'll see you around."

He left without another word.

" 'Dun, dun, dun. Another one bites the dust, and another one gone, and another one gone. Another one bites the dust!' "

Rio glared toward the disembodied voice that came from the direction of his patio. "Fuck off, Carter."

Carter Thorn laughed as he walked into the house and made a beeline for the fridge and the cold beer that lived there. He wore dusty jeans and a gray T-shirt with the words "You don't want to know what I'd do for a Klondike Bar" on the front. The material stretched around the small beer belly that appeared a few months ago. He refused to acknowledge it, showing off his sculpted arms and chest to compensate.

"You do know it's only nine a.m., right?" Rio asked as Carter took a beer and twisted off the cap. He went to the coffeemaker and poured the last of the hazelnut crap Chaze liked down the drain and started a pot of his own.

"Not if I haven't been to bed yet." Carter saluted him with the bottle.

"You also know time doesn't work that way, right?" Rio laughed at Carter's middle finger. "What was his name?"

Carter sighed. "Jacob. He was beautiful. And he's leaving in two weeks. Part of some geology study group. So, he's fucking perfect."

Rio stopped. "A student?"

"Fuck you. He's a grad student." Carter drained his beer and belched. "Unlike you, I have to take it where I can get it. The gay men who will stay quiet are few and far between in this town. Besides, not all of us have the exotic good looks of a mahogany-headed, black-eyed god, like some people."

Rio poured some coffee and took a drink while he eyed his best friend. "Are you coming on to me?"

Carter grinned. "I admit I'm curious, but no. That'd be like fucking my brother."

"Good," Rio said.

They both shuddered as they pictured Eugene Thorn.

"Why did I say that? Fuck. Now it's in my head."

"Mine too, asshole." He paused. "Mahogany-headed?"

"I haven't slept, dude. Give me a break." Carter rubbed a hand over his stubbled face.

"Which god?"

"Shut up," he growled.

Rio laughed and headed outside to his studio in the barn. His kitchen opened onto the gray flagstone patio as if the outdoors were a natural part of the house. Rio had a gorgeous view from his perch on a hill high above Riverbend. A mourning dove cooed, and a breeze through the trees kicked up a little dust. A scorching day loomed on the back of the wind.

The scent of his grandfather's pipe tobacco preceded him as Rio opened the doors.

"Rio. Finally. Where've you been?"

"Sorry. Chaze was leaving."

Fox Hawkwing grunted and slid off the high stool at the metal workbench. He wore his usual outfit of faded blue jeans and a flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled to the elbows. Rio couldn't remember him ever wearing anything else, except during ceremonies. "You need to come to the sweat lodge. Sparrow can get all the negative energy out of you."

"How do you know I have negative energy?" Rio moved to his design blueprints and set his coffee cup aside. He fiddled with a short pencil as Fox came over.

"You're of my spirit, boy. I know when you're hurting."

Rio shook his head. "I didn't love him."

"No, but it's never fun being rejected." He squeezed Rio's shoulder. "Also, you think I don't know what that jackass Jim Slade said to you the other day?"

"Let it go, please. You can't fight people like that."

"Your grandma and I have had to defend our relationship our whole lives. Back when we married, it was unheard of for a tribal member to marry a white girl. I hate that it's a new century, and you kids still have to defend your mixed heritage."

"It gets better every day. I just stay out of their way."

"Well," Fox grumbled. "Let me know if he gives you any more grief."

Rio's smile was tremulous at best. "Thanks. I might do that."

"If you don't come to the sweat lodge, you could go to the bar—what's it called? Butts Up?—and get laid."

"Fox," Rio warned.

"What?" He pushed his graying hair off his shoulder. "Sex is sex. It's healing."

Rio shook his head and concentrated on his newest design. "Bottles Up. And it's too far of a drive."

"Best way to get over someone is to get under another."

Rio snorted a laugh.

"You're too good to be alone, River Hawkwing."

Fox switched to their native language, and without a hitch, Rio reciprocated. He'd learned along with his sisters, just as they'd learned English, at their grandfather's knee.

"Thanks, Grandad, but I need to do some soul-searching first."

"What you need is a spiritual quest. Go out to the desert."

"Maybe." It might be a good idea. He hadn't done that in years. "Only if you come with me."

"As if you could stop me."

Rio smiled. "Are you going to help me or bug me about my sex life?"

"Why can't I do both?"

"I suppose you could. How's Grandma?"

That set the old man off on the latest exploits of Rio's grandmother, Ava, and he listened as he gathered the materials for his next piece.

Maybe he could use a drink, but he wasn't going to drive two hours to go to a gay bar. The local watering hole would have to do for now. If he was lucky, he might find that certain someone to help him get over this latest hurdle.

Chapter 3

Rake

"Let's talk." Damian Corsetti looked him up and down and walked away, knowing Rake would follow. He led the way across the bar to a corner booth while his thugs followed close behind. "Sit."

Rake slid in and stayed near the edge, but Corsetti's thug, Christopher, slid in beside him and pushed him toward the corner.

Corsetti took his time getting comfortable. Hunter came over to take his order, his face devoid of emotion, though he flickered a glance at Rake.

"Top shelf. Whiskey."

"Yes, Mr. Corsetti." He brought it over in a flash and gave Rake a fresh one.

The smell turned Rake's stomach, but he stayed still. He wasn't as good at hiding his contempt as Hunter, but he'd try his best.

"Congratulations on the fight, Rafael."

"Thank you, Mr. Corsetti." Smug son of a bitch.

Rake gritted his teeth and gripped his glass, though he didn't lift it. He met Corsetti's blue eyes and his eyebrows twitched. Was he imagining things, or was Corsetti amused? Like he knows what I'm thinking. Rake needed to be careful.

Corsetti wore a black summer-weight suit and a blue shirt that made his eyes stand out. If he didn't know any better, Rake would have called it Tardis blue. But that was ridiculous. His thick brown hair lay slicked back but somehow not greasy, and a pair of unframed glasses poked out of his breast pocket. Corsetti lifted his glass to drink. With the exception of a vintage gold Rolex, he wore no jewelry. A gorgeous man—fortysomething and getting better looking with age. If Rake hadn't been so disgusted with him as a human being, he might've tried his luck getting him into the nearest bed.

Corsetti drained his glass and set it down with a quiet click. "You've been working hard. I could use a guy like you. Trustworthy. Loyal. Strong."

Rake strained to hear his low voice over the ruckus. "I'm flattered, but I have a career."

"I respect that. I'm not trying to take it away from you."

"Then what are you trying to do?"

Christopher, the mean-looking son of a bitch, shifted and smacked Rake behind the head. "Watch it."

"You can watch my fist when it disappears into your face if you touch me again." Rake bit his tongue to stop the words that spewed out of his mouth, but he didn't take them back. He wasn't his father; he had to at least try and stand up for himself.

Corsetti waved Christopher off and regarded Rake with a cool stare. The hair on his arms rose, but he refused to look away.

Corsetti broke eye contact and stared at the crowd. "I like you, Rake. Your father says you're obstinate, but I see that as an asset."

"How so?" Rake asked after Corsetti paused.

His eyes flicked to Rake. "It'll be more fun to break you."

Rake choked on air. "Something tells me you're not talking about the fun kind of breaking."

Christopher's hand left the table and aimed for Rake, but he was too slow. Rake snatched his wrist and twisted. Christopher grunted but held on. Tough bastard.

"I told you not to touch me."

Corsetti lifted a finger, and Christopher pulled his arm out of Rake's hold with a snarl.

"What if I say I don't want to work for you?"

Corsetti's grin caught Rake off guard. It made him look ten years younger and carefree.

"You can owe me for the fights, then. Sixty-five percent of your winnings." He pressed his index finger on the tabletop. "Starting now. You refuse me, and you won't be fighting anyone. Work for me, and I'll only take thirty percent."

Hollowness expanded in Rake's chest, and waves of heat and nausea spread from his gut. "I don't have it. You know, it's not like they hand me the whole purse at once. I only get a percentage, after taxes and paying my manager and trainers."

Corsetti sighed and stood while he buttoned his jacket. "You've been fighting since you were sixteen, Rafael. I've left you alone long enough, out of respect for your father, but it smacks of favoritism. You're bound to have money saved—it's not like you live extravagantly or gamble it away. I would have heard if you did." Corsetti leveled him with a cold stare. "You have until noon Friday."

They left, and Rake slumped into the corner.

Hunter appeared at his side. "What did he say?"

"I have to give him sixty-five percent of tonight's winnings by noon Friday, or work for him."

Hunter sagged next to him. "Well, fuck." He gestured to Lila for a bottle, and she brought it over with a worried frown.

Hunter poured them each two fingers, and they drank.

***

The next morning, Rake entered his bank at nine a.m. on the dot. He left several minutes later with his life savings, which didn't add up to much.

Corsetti hadn't considered Raymond da Silva's debts when he'd calculated Rake's net worth. He'd spent a hell of a lot of money over the years paying back his father's loan sharks.

Rake hadn't done it for his father. He'd done it to save his own kneecaps. Those fuckers didn't care who first borrowed the money; he and Ray had the same last name, so one or both would pay them and that was that.

Hunter met him on the sidewalk with a takeout coffee. He was barely awake after being up all night with him to talk strategy. "Rake, you're not a gambler. Do you even know how to get to twenty-one in blackjack?"

Rake was too hungover to argue. "Fuck you. I know the face cards are ten." I think.

"What's a straight? A full house?"

He ignored him, and Hunter stepped in front of him, forcing him to stop. "That's your entire life savings. What are you gonna do when you lose?"

"If. If I lose. That's why it's called gambling." Rake shoved around his friend, but Hunter pulled him to a stop. "What the hell else am I supposed to do? I won't get that money by Friday, and even if that were the case, I have other debts that have to be paid before Corsetti can get a cut, and I refuse to work for him." He blew out a breath. "Hell, maybe I should let Corsetti and the loan sharks fight it out and see who wins."

Hunter ripped off his sunglasses, not one to be distracted from his point, and said, "Borrow it from Luis. Christ, I'd give the money to you if I had any!" Hunter scowled at a tourist in a fanny pack and his wife who stared. "What?"

Gasping, they scurried away.

Rake kept walking. "I know you would, man, and I love you for that. Luis won't give me anything. He barely pays for gym fees."

"Wait. Just wait." Rake stopped. "Seriously, what are you going to do if you lose? Are you going to work for him?"

Rake stared at his friend, then closed his eyes as his shoulders fell. "I don't know. I don't have any way to fight against him, and you know as well as I do, he owns the cops in this town. If I don't win, and I refuse to work for him, he'll kill me. If I lose," he shrugged with a nonchalance he didn't feel, "the only thing left to do...is run."

Crestfallen, Hunter nodded. "I'll do what I can to help."

Rake gripped him behind the neck and brought him in for a hug. "Thank you. You're a good friend." With a thump on the back, he let him go and continued through the crowds on his way to the Bellagio while Hunter followed.

He prayed to God this worked.

Chapter 4

Rake

Yellow headlights flashed through the dark blur that was Interstate 15. After he lost to that smarmy bastard from Texas with a royal flush, he'd rushed home and thrown some clothes and toiletries into a duffle bag. He took every dollar he could from his checking account out of the ATM, then drove like a bat out of hell.

He'd stopped at a few places along the highway over the past several nights, but none of them were right. The only destination that came to mind was from the plaque on Hunter's bar.

Riverbend, Utah. The name called to him somehow. It sounded mellow, and he hoped, out of Corsetti's reach.

The exit sign pointed to the right, and Rake took the ramp with a grateful sigh. He hated to drive by himself for hours on end. He needed company.

Something flashed in the headlights, and Rake slammed on the brakes. Were those wings? A quick look in the rearview—no one was behind him, thank God. He leaned forward and peered through the windshield. Someone stood in the middle of the road. Rake couldn't tell if it was a man or a woman, though they had long dark hair. They wore some sort of shapeless beige outfit.

Rake worried he might have clipped them, but he hadn't heard anything hit the car. He stepped out and took a few steps forward. Harsh shadows hid the face as the legs glowed in the headlights.

He squinted. "Are you okay?"

They didn't speak, so Rake took a few more steps forward, all the while telling himself this was how people got murdered. "Hey? Do you need help?"

"You will."

Rake paused at the deep voice. Was it a man, or a woman who smoked a lot?

"I'll need help?" With the way his life was going, he couldn't disagree. "Are you planning on hurting me? Because I gotta warn you, I'm a professional fighter."

"Take heed, Rafael. You will need those who love you."

"Right. Well, that's like maybe one person, and he's not here. So..."

"Love comes in many forms."

Rake jerked. "Wait a fucking minute! How do you know my name?"

The lights of his car dimmed, and he automatically turned to check behind him but saw nothing there. When he whirled around, the figure was gone.

"What the hell?" Rake sprinted to his open door, got in, and checked the back seat just in case.

"That was fucking insane." The click of the locks was loud in the quiet darkness.

Rake kept an eye out for more crazy people as he followed the signs to town. A few minutes later, the strange figure was forgotten as he drove into Riverbend. Rake never thought he'd miss the neon lights of the strip, but the two-lane roads with the quaint fake gas lamps on each building was like going back in time. Hunter would love this place. Fuck, he didn't want to think about his friend and the mess he'd left behind. He hoped and prayed Corsetti didn't believe Hunter knew where he was. Hell, Rake barely knew where Rake was.

Lights from a parking lot shone on several people standing in groups, so he pulled over. Resting for a moment, he stared out the windshield of his old car. The bass beat of a song filled the air as people who sat on tailgates and car hoods talked and laughed.

All types flocked to Vegas, so cowboy hats and boots were nothing new, but these people were the real deal. He bet they had farms or ranches and all kinds of shit here.

Fuck, he hoped they had Wi-Fi. They had to, right? Main Street only had three stoplights, so anything was possible.

A drink sounded perfect, and maybe a nice ass to look at. Rake didn't care whether it was attached to a man or a woman; he wanted to forget his fucking life for a while. Nobody in the places he'd stopped at the last few days had caught his eye.

Dry heat rushed into the car when he opened the door. A few people smiled at him as he crunched his way over the gravel lot and to the front door of a bar called Thorns. The smell of beer and sawdust hit his nose as he entered and made his way through the crush of people, catching more than one interested eye. Too early to pick, though.

A blistering country song began to play, and people dancing hollered and started to grind against their partners. He wandered closer to the writhing mass of sleek bodies in jeans and short-shorts. It wasn't a gay bar, but a few men stood close, flirting. Nobody paid them any attention.

Rake smiled at a server and pivoted as a few people parted to let him through. He stopped dead in the middle of the floor. As he stared, a sleek-figured man pushed at strands of thick brown hair falling into his eyes. His long legs and high, tight ass encased in dark denim shifted over the floor as he stood talking and swaying to the music. He tilted his head to take a drink from a longneck beer, and Rake's hungry gaze followed the move.

All that was great, but the striking looks of the man had Rake frozen with wonder and lust. His eyes flashed dark as midnight under the lights, and it wasn't the club lights, because the man who stood next to him had blue eyes. He had a deep olive skin tone with a hint of rust, like someone baked in the desert sun. His lips—good God—were so curved and smooth, Rake wanted to bite them and watch them wrap around his dick.

The shape of those eyes, the angle of his facial bones...the exact color of his skin, paired with his hair color, gave him an exotic flavor. His features blended into something beautiful. Someone beautiful. He was a mixture of different cultures, a mystery waiting to be figured out. Christ, if Rake had an artistic bone in his body, he would paint this man. Artistic he was not—however, there was one bone he did have, and he wanted to give it to him.

Rake walked closer and signaled to the server. "Hey," he said to the mystery man. "Can I get you another one?"

The man turned to him with one raised brow. He had a fifty-fifty chance of getting a fist in the face, or a "fuck off," but how the hell could he pass on this opportunity? Simply standing next to this guy was worth a punch. Rake caught a whiff of the man's scent. He had no idea what it was, but he liked it. His dick liked it too. Calm down, buddy. We'll get there.

The man's pretty mouth curled up at one corner, and the tension in Rake's shoulders eased.

"Sure, thanks."

Rake asked the server for two more beers. "I'm Rake." He coughed at the end, and the man had to move closer to hear him.

"Sorry?"

Rake lips quirked in triumph, and the man's dark eyes sharpened.

"I'm Rake."

"Rake?" he asked. "Like a hoe?"

Rake threw his head back on a laugh. "Exactly."

"Rio." He smiled. His hand, when they shook, was rough with long, slender fingers.

Why does that name sound familiar? "Rio? As in, 'Her name is Rio and she dances on the sand'?"

His brow scrunched, and he tilted his head. "What?"

"Duran Duran? 'Rio'?"

"Oh! The eighties band?" Rio chuckled. "No, it means river in Portuguese. And Spanish, I guess."

Rake grinned as the tip of Rio's tongue snuck out and licked his lips. Oh yeah, he's interested.

The server brought their beers, and Rake slipped a ten on the tray. He tapped the top of his bottle against Rio's.

"I have to tell you something." He leaned against a pillar and crooked a finger for Rio to follow. A thrill shot through his balls when he did. Rio leaned in close and his unique scent tickled Rake's nose as he inhaled.

"What's that?" Rio asked, his voice deep.

"You are fucking gorgeous."

Rio's nostrils flared and his chest expanded. "Thank you." His eyes swept over Rake and goose bumps rose in their wake. "You have the whole bad-boy vibe going on. You're not from here. So...Vegas?"

Rake jerked. "How did you know that?"

Shrugging, Rio explained, "It's not that far away, and you have a city look."

Rake cursed silently. "Do me a favor, and don't mention that?"

Rio moved his head back, eyes curious. "No problem, but a little advice?"

Rake paused and nodded for him to continue.

"You may want to get different clothes."

He looked down at his strategically torn black jeans and black leather jacket, then up with a salacious grin. "You got any I can borrow in the morning?"

When Rio realized what Rake was saying, he scoffed and shook his head. He tried to conceal a grin with another drink. "Does that line ever work?"

Rake stepped in closer and said into his ear. "How about this one? They can stay in your closet 'cause I'd rather be naked with you."

Rio's lips curled, his head near Rake's. "What are you, an exhibitionist?"

He laughed again. "Maybe a little, but nothing too crazy." He placed his fingers on the sculpted bicep under that tight black T-shirt. "Besides, I don't think being naked in your bed counts as exhibitionism."

"What does count?" Rio retreated a few inches to drink.

"How about a glory hole?"

"Depends on where it is."

Rake grinned. "The middle of a Halloween party."

Rio pursed his lips in a silent whistle. "Not bad. Was it fun?"

"Sure. Have you never tried anything like that?"

"There's not much like that around here. We don't even have a sex shop."

"No shit? Do you have Wi-Fi in this town?"

"Yes, of course." Rio rolled his eyes. "It's how I run my business."

"Good. Now, where were we?"

"Glory holes."

"Oh, right. Well, what do you do for fun around here?"

"Besides semi-public sex?"

"Semi-public?" He shook his head in mock disapproval. "I mean, if you think you can top that, feel free."

Rio's smile became less guarded as his eyes crinkled.

"I go hiking and camping a lot."

"Hiking? Like in the woods?"

Rio's eyes stayed on his as one cheek dimpled. "That's kind of the point." He shook his head and laughed.

"Oh sure, make fun of me. It's not very nice to laugh at people with hiking disabilities."

He rolled his lips inward to stop smiling. "It's a very serious predicament."

Rake sniffed and sighed. Then he remembered the person on the road. "Do you hike at night?"

"Not as a rule, no."

"Huh."

"Why?"

"There was a person in the middle of the road when I drove in off 15. I thought it was a bird at first, but I got out and talked to someone."

Rio cocked his head. "Strange."

An awkward silence fell over them, and Rake could have kicked his own ass for his stupidity. Way to make him think you're a weirdo.

"So, what do you do for fun?" Rio asked.

"Uh..." Rake tried to remember the last time he'd had fun. "I go to my friend's bar. Other than that, I train pretty much constantly."

"Train? In what?"

Rio leaned a shoulder against the pillar beside Rake, and the closeness set off a maelstrom of lust.

"I'm a boxer."

Rio's dark eyes swept over his face. "That explains the bruises."

Rake fingered his black eye and shrugged. The glass bottle wept from the heat of his hand, so he drank while it was still cold. He lifted his gaze and licked his lips while looking at Rio's mouth.

Rio's eyelids lowered as he stared and swallowed. "I think we should get out of here."

He never took his eyes off Rio's. "I agree, because I want to suck your cock."

Time stopped as they stared at each other.

Rio blinked and took a step back. "Come with me."

Rake followed as he drained the last dregs of his beer and pitched it into a bin with a clatter. A thought hit him. "Wait! Rio?"

A few heads turned their way at the exclamation, and Rio's steps faltered.

"Rio Danvers? Metal and woodworking?"

Rio's brows rose. "Uh, yeah. You know me?"

Rake didn't believe in fate, but this was a huge coincidence. "I know your work. A bar in particular." Okay, maybe not huge. It was a small town, after all, and if he'd stayed, he was bound to run into the man at some point. Right?

Rio nodded at his explanation, and Rake continued to walk after him.

"Well, it didn't take you long, Rio."

Rake stopped as a twentysomething man of mixed Asian descent stepped over, wobbling a little before he caught his balance. Rake grinned in anticipation.

This place was starting to grow on him.
Chapter 5

Rio

Every eye near them in the bar turned to gawk when Rake yelled his name.

One of which... "Chaze." A very drunk Chaze.

"Rio." He wore a too-big ten-gallon hat, stolen from—Rio looked over—Jack Slade, of all people.

Great. Just what I need.

Rake came to a stop beside him with an amused smile. "You okay, there?" he asked Chaze, who narrowed his eyes and gave him a once-over.

Chaze scoffed. "Seriously? It hasn't even been a day."

Rio aimed a direct stare over at Jack, who glowered. "Really? You want to do this now?" Rio asked.

Chaze waved behind him, dismissing Slade's presence. "Oh, please. I'm not hightailing it out of here with a stranger."

A soft laugh came from Rake, and Rio glanced over at his huge smile.

Rake winked.

God, he's hot.

Ripped arms and leg muscles that stretched his jeans, a solid core, and strong, even facial features under a dirty-blond fade haircut. His eyes...now those were pretty. They reminded Rio of angry clouds with a hint of sunshine peeking through.

"Not even a day, Duran Duran?" Rake placed a hand over his heart. "I'm flattered."

The nickname made Rio pause, but he shook it off and said to Chaze, "I'm not doing this now. You're drunk."

Slade wandered over, the stamp of his father's sneer on his face. "Yeah, run away, Danvers. It's what you people are good at."

Rio ignored him, but the barb struck its intended target. Chaze shook his head and dislodged his hat, which Rake caught with a quick move and handed it to the smaller man. He took a single step toward Slade, no longer smiling. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Rio stopped him with a hand on his arm. "Forget it. Have fun with that, Chaze." Rio gave a pointed nod at Slade, took Rake's hand, and pulled him away. He'd been heading to the bathroom, which was a stupid thing to do in his best friend's bar, so he changed direction. He was a little grateful for Chaze's cockblock, because the blood returned to his brain. That was, until Rake slid his fingers into Rio's back pocket and squeezed his ass.

Staggering heat pumped through his cock, and he almost stumbled. Rake's smile sealed the deal for Rio: sweet, dirty and fun. How did he manage all three at once?

Rake cleared his throat and asked again, "So, not even a day?"

"We weren't really together. More like friends with benefits."

"Then why's he upset?"

Rio squirmed. "He started to feel more. I didn't."

Rake let go of his ass. "I'll follow you." He dug keys out of his jacket pocket and strode toward a sedan.

"Follow close. It's up the mountain."

Rake saluted him, and Rio jumped into the 1967 Chevy pickup truck his grandad gave him. Fox had driven it sparingly because he preferred to walk when he could, so it was in pristine condition: powder blue with a white top.

Faded yellow headlights stayed in his rearview mirror as he drove up the winding road toward home. He pulled into his large circular gravel drive, and Rake parked behind him. The house blended into the scenery, echoing the colors of the landscape. Burnt sienna was prevalent, but also reds, greens, blues, and yellows. The stone had been cut locally, and part of the house was dug into the mountain. The dark flagstone of the front porch stretched from the driveway and continued into the great room. The large front door, one of many Rio had carved from a fallen redwood tree, featured a wolf among trees.

"Come on in." Rio left the door open, amused by Rake's captivation.

"This place is...wow."

Rake came to a stop as he looked around inside. The great room flowed into the patio and the yard beyond it. An opening to the kitchen was separated only by large, wooden support beams and featured the same flagstones on the floor. The walls were painted cream, one accented in dark blue with a large stone fireplace. Above it hung an oil painting of a Navajo man.

"Want a drink?"

Rake shook his head. "Who's that?" he asked as he headed straight for it.

Rio smiled. Everyone went for the painting first. "My grandfather. My grandmother painted it."

"It's beautiful."

He studied the painting, then Rio. "So, you're part Native American?"

"Navajo." Rio braced for...he didn't know what. Suspicion? Affront? Some people, like the Slade family, only had it in for one race or culture. Rake was an unknown, so he had no idea how he'd react, but he'd seemed fine with the painting.

"Cool." Rake walked over, lifted a finger, ran it across Rio's cheek, and continued to his neck.

Rio grabbed his hand and pulled him closer, relieved by Rake's cavalier attitude. He needed to get the Slade family out of his mind. "I believe you said something about sucking my cock."

Rake grinned. "I believe you're right." He looked down. "Though I don't think my knees will like this floor."

Rio spun on his heel and pulled Rake behind him, who followed with a low chuckle. The bedroom had little in the way of decoration. White walls, sturdy furniture he made himself, and a Navajo rug over the hardwood floor.

Rake tugged his belt loop, and he stopped.

"Here's good." He popped open Rio's jeans and slid the zipper down. "First, though..."

Rake leaned forward, and Rio leaned back.

"No, not right now."

Rake blinked. "Ah. No kissing strangers?"

"Not unless you want to start dating." Rio shrugged. "It's a rule of mine."

"Well, I can't say I'm not disappointed, because your lips are gorgeous. But I understand."

He kneeled as Rio took himself out of his boxer briefs.

"Here's something else gorgeous. Is any part of you not perfect?"

Rio snorted. "I'm not perfect."

"Well, you're pretty damn close."

Rake took Rio's hard cock in his fist and pumped several times.

Rio's head fell forward, and he let out a deep breath. He and Chaze had fooled around that morning, but Chaze had uttered the three little words that brought everything to a screeching halt, so he hadn't come. And it had been a while before that.

Rake's warm, wet tongue dipped into his slit. "Mmm. Salty."

"You don't have to swallow. I'm clean, though."

Rake winked up at Rio. "Me too."

He buried his nose in Rio's groin, licked a stripe from his balls to the tip, and sucked him into his mouth.

"Fuck!"

Rake tightened his fist and jacked. He sucked on the head, went as far down as he could, his mouth hot and wet.

Rio cupped the side of Rake's face as his head bobbed and his lips tightened with suction. The stubble there tickled his palm.

"So good," Rio groaned.

Rake alternated licking, sucking, and jacking him until Rio's knees began to wobble. Rake's other hand moved around his hip to grab Rio's ass. He squeezed and ran his cool fingers under the cotton of his shorts, digging into the flesh. His cheeks parted and one fingertip pressed on his hole.

Rio moaned and thrust forward. He wanted to fuck Rafe's mouth, but that hand around his cock held him prisoner. He growled in frustration, and Rake laughed. He brought his hand out and sucked on his middle finger while he continued to suck on Rio's cock. His finger zeroed in on Rio's hole once again and went in a few inches, but he may as well have thrust his cock in deep. It felt that good.

Rio clenched and thrust with a shout as he came down Rake's throat. "Oh, damn." He ran a hand over his damp face and staggered a few steps to sit on the bed, while Rake rose and wiped his chin.

"You're welcome." Rake smirked and sat beside him. He lay back with his hands under his head.

Rio sat up and leaned over. His eyes landed on Rio's lips and stayed there; his pupils were blown wide, cheeks flushed with desire.

"What do you want?" Rio asked.

He bit his lip. "Can I fuck you? Or do you want to give me a blowjob?"

The urge to kiss Rake grew until he found himself inches away. His tongue came out to lick his dry lips, and Rake opened his mouth, ready to receive him.

Rio froze and swallowed. He had a good reason for not kissing strangers, but Rake called to him on a visceral level. He stared at Rake's full bottom lip and thin upper lip. He'd seen prettier, but the crooked tilt of his smile, the flash of his white teeth and pink tongue, made them a sensual tease.

He pulled away, and disappointment flared in Rake's eyes.
Chapter 6

Rio

Chaze's words had burrowed into Rio's brain. Not that he wanted to let Chaze dictate what he did, but part of him agreed that inviting another man into his bed, not even twenty-four hours after Chaze left it, might be a bit much.

Rake shook his head and chuckled. "Sorry, what were we talking about?"

"Blowjob," Rio said. He checked Rake's expression, but it hadn't changed. "You were disappointed about the kiss, but not fucking?"

Hands still behind his head, Rake shrugged and said, "Either way, I get to come."

He did a half sit-up and held there while he took off his jacket, then lay on Rio's pillows. Rio unbuttoned and unzipped Rake's jeans but didn't take him out. The hard outline of his cock pushed against the fabric of his tight fuchsia briefs, and Rio ran his thumb along the center of the rigid shaft, pressing until Rake made a small sound.

He palmed the sac below and cupped Rake's balls, massaging and rolling them around in his fingers. Rake shifted his hips and pushed his jeans down, toed his boots off, and kicked everything away with growing impatience.

Rio continued to play with him and sucked on his shaft through the cloth, getting it wet. Another wet patch appeared from the leaking slit, and Rio licked it and tasted the musky flavor.

He peeled the waistband down and got an eyeful of his prize: girthy and a little longer than his own, with a thick vein that ran up the underside of his cock.

"Talk about perfect."

"Thanks." Rake grinned and ran a hand through Rio's hair with light tugs.

Rio sucked kisses along the length, then mouthed his balls, trying to take one into his mouth. Succeeding, he sucked until Rake squirmed. He let it go with a wet lick and moved to fit the head of his cock to his puckered lips.

"Do you like a finger in your ass?"

Rake lifted his head and blinked the fog of lust from his eyes. "Hell, yes."

Rio bounced off the bed and snatched the lube from the top drawer of his bureau. He came back before Rake could protest, pulled his underwear off, and settled between his legs. Rake spread them wider to give him more room and did that half sit-up again, giving Rio an up-close view of the eight pack he sported.

"How many sit-ups do you do a day?"

Rake was lean but cut. His muscles looked like they'd been chiseled out of granite. He had little in the way of blemishes or freckles, and a smattering of fur along his chest and treasure trail. Trimmed pubic hair angled into the fuzz on his belly, but his cock and balls were bare and flushed a dark red. The rest of him gleamed pale peach in the overhead light.

"On the floor or hanging upside down?"

"Fuck, man," Rio said, making him laugh.

He lubed two fingers on his left hand and grabbed Rake's stiff cock with his right. And hot. So hot. He aimed the head at his mouth and took it in without further teasing.

Rake tensed and moaned. His hips thrust, but Rio held on. He could deep throat but needed to prepare first. Rio circled Rake's hole with the lube and eased one finger inside while he took Rake's cock in until it hit his throat. He memorized the flavor of Rake's precome and skin. He tried to swallow and gagged a little.

"Shit, don't hurt yourself."

Rio popped off. "I like it."

"Oh. Well, then...have at it."

He thrust his finger in farther and added another, timing it so he fucked Rake's hole at the same time he went down as far as he could.

"Oh, shit! Rio." Rake gasped.

Legs tense, he lifted them to either side of Rio's body and squeezed his ribs. His large hands tugged at his hair and Rio bobbed and sucked, continuing to thrust his fingers into the tight channel. He could tell he'd hit Rake's prostate when he vibrated and swore, coming in a hot rush down his throat.

He let out a string of curses. "Jesus, fuck. You are really good at that."

Rio smiled and moved up to lie beside him. They didn't speak again until Rake had his breath back.

"Do you want me to leave, or will you feed me first?"

Rake's head lay on a pillow, his hair a mess, with his eyes closed.

"I have food. And no, you don't have to leave until you're ready."

"Cool. Just gotta use the bathroom." He stood and strode naked to the en suite without carrying his clothes. Rio, who knew anyone could walk into his house at any time, grabbed his jeans and pulled them on. He left his shirt off and headed to the kitchen.

He washed his hands, then opened the fridge. Footsteps padded on the floor behind him.

"How does fried chicken sound?"

"I wouldn't say no."

Rio spun around when his sister spoke. He cut his eyes to the left toward the patio.

"Zorah, hey. Where's Zadie?"

"Studio."

Rio nodded. Family and friends treated his house as a general gathering place. They sat on the old leather couch in the studio barn, played music or pool, and talked. Or they came in and raided his kitchen. They restocked it regularly, so that was fine with him.

But... "I've got company."

"Grandpa said Chaze was history." Zorah tilted her head and her white-blonde braids slid over her tanned shoulders. She wore a long skirt and a sleeveless top with her jewelry-making business logo on the front.

"He is."

She grinned and her eyes lit up with gleeful malice. Rio wouldn't have been worried, except for the fact that she wasn't looking at him.

He whirled and groaned when Rake walked out of the hallway, naked. He rushed over to hide him from his sister's view. Not that either of them cared. Rake admitted to being an exhibitionist, and the twins were no different. Hell, there were things about his sisters' love lives and bodies no brother should ever know.

"My sisters are here."

"Oh, shit! Sorry." He spun around, and with Rio blocking the view of his ass, returned to the bedroom.

"I already saw everything," Zorah yelled.

Rake laughed and called out, "Yeah well, I don't want to give your brother a heart attack. I have plans for him."

Rio groaned again as Zorah chuckled and mouthed, He's hot. He returned to the kitchen and pulled food out of the fridge. Fried chicken would be good cold, but he put some rolls in the oven to warm while he made a plate for Rake.

A minute later, the man in question popped up over his shoulder, fully dressed...in Rio's clothes. He'd taken his advice at the bar to heart.

Rio handed him the plate and brought more over to the kitchen table where his sister sat.

"Zorah, this is Rake. Rake, one of my sisters, Zorah."

She and Rake smiled at each other, but Rake's stomach growled, so he began to eat without comment. Rio brought over the rolls and butter as Zadie walked in. She wore an identical outfit to her sister's in reverse colors.

"Oh, hello."

Rake waved his fork as he chewed. He swallowed and introduced himself.

"Rake? Is that a nickname?" Zadie asked.

"Yep. My name's Rafael."

"Shouldn't it be Rafe, then?"

"My mom dropped me off with my dad before she split. He didn't hear her say 'Rafe' properly, so he called me Rake until he realized his mistake, but by then it had stuck."

Rio, sensing Rake's discomfort, changed the subject and asked, "What can I get you to drink?"

"Water's fine, thanks. This food kicks ass. Did you make it?"

"No. It's my grandma's chicken, and I'd say Zadie's macaroni salad."

The twin in question smiled and stuffed a roll into her mouth.

"What are you two doing here so late?" Rio asked. "Where are your partners in crime?"

"Jen is at the ranch this weekend. I couldn't go," Zadie said.

"David is home watching football," Zorah said with a wrinkled nose.

Rake chuckled. "Not a fan?"

"Sports aren't really my thing." She turned to her brother "How's the new piece going?"

"Good. Grandad helped me this morning."

"Oh, you're working on your stuff?" Rake asked. "What are you making?"

Rio leaned back and crossed his arms. He remembered Rake's comment about the bar, and he'd only made one so far. A custom job for a man in Vegas. He didn't mention it though, since Rake seemed reluctant to talk about the city.

"It's a set of custom wood and iron barn doors."

"You made your door, didn't you? With the wolf?"

Rio nodded.

"That's incredible."

"Thank you."

"He and Gramps made everything in this house," Zadie said.

"We're an artistic family." Zorah tore a chunk of chicken off and popped it into her mouth. "I make jewelry."

"And you?" Rake looked at Zadie.

"I make pottery. What do you do?"

"I'm a professional boxer."

Zorah's button nose wrinkled again, and Rake laughed. "I could tell it was something physical. Your body is insane."

Zadie raised a brow at her sister.

"He was naked when I came in."

"Damn. No fair. Give me a peek?" She batted her lashes at Rake.

He laughed, and with a wink at Rio, lifted the borrowed shirt to show off his chiseled abs.

Zadie whistled. "Hot stuff."

Rake grinned, eating it up. "You two are a trip. Did you switch places as kids?"

"All the time," Rio answered for them. "I used to call them both Z because I never knew who I was talking to."

He stood to clear the table, and Rake jumped in to help.

"We were strongly against any form of favoritism, so we figured it was better if Dad and Grams and Gramps didn't know who we were."

"Besides, the favorite was always Rio," Zadie chimed in.

Rio rolled his eyes.

"You have different dads?" Rake asked.

"How did you know?" Zorah asked. Her eyes zipped to her brother.

"Just a guess."

"Mom met Rio's dad on a backpacking trip, and he didn't want anything else to do with her," Zadie explained as she ignored the byplay between her siblings. "When she came home, she met our dad."

Rake nodded and caught Rio's eye. Lips tight, he studied Rio's face; then he turned to the twins and asked, "So, what do you all do for fun? Please don't say hiking."

Tension leaked out of Rio's shoulders as Rake deftly changed the subject. How had he known Rio didn't like the subject of fathers? The same way Rio noticed Rake hadn't liked talking about his parents, he guessed. Evidence that he paid attention. Rake was a curious mix of attentiveness and lightheartedness.

Chapter 7

Rio

His sisters claimed to be tired—though he spotted the fake yawns—and left. It gave Rio the opportunity to show Rake the studio. The mini fridge was always stocked with drinks, so he grabbed two beers and joined Rake where he stood admiring some of Rio's more personal work.

The barn was a huge space. The twins each had a section of their own, separated by shelving and Rio and Grandad's hand-carved counters. Paintings and dreamcatchers decorated the walls, while sculptures and pottery sat on the shelves. Zadie's kiln was in the rear of the building, so they could open the doors when she fired her pieces.

"This is insane." Rake spun in a slow circle. "I love it."

"Thanks. We spend a lot of time in here."

"I mean, I like your house, but it's a little...minimalist. Is that the right word?"

Rio hid a smile, drank his beer, and went to sit on the couch by the front wall. They had a sort of hang-out space up front and a shared office in the loft along with finished pieces waiting to be shipped.

Rake joined him and sat close. His knee bumped against Rio's until he smiled.

"I like your sisters."

"Me too. Most of the time." He paused. Did Rake want to get personal? "Do you have any?"

Rake shook his head. "Only child. You ready to kiss me yet, Duran Duran?"

That was a no to getting personal. The nickname annoyed Rio, but he didn't mention it. He figured Rake would get tired of it eventually.

"Not yet, Guns N' Roses." He drained his beer and set the bottle on the floor.

Rake moved in before Rio could straighten from his lean and shoved him so he lay on the couch. He slid between Rio's legs, nudging and shifting until he was comfortable. The smell of fried chicken and beer hit Rio's nose.

Rake's eyes zeroed in on his lips, but he kept his distance. "I like you without a shirt."

He didn't have Rake's abs, but he was firm from his work, with some definition. "Thanks. You're not so bad yourself."

"Well, when you train as much as I do, it sort of just happens." He gave Rio a small grin. "I'm sorry about your sister seeing me naked."

"It's fine. They've done worse to me."

Rake's grin widened. "Tell me."

Rio paused with a self-deprecating smile. "We had a party in high school. Everyone was drunk on light beer and Jell-O shots. So anyway, the twins decided to lose their virginity at the same time—just in different rooms and with different guys."

Rake nodded with his head propped on one hand.

"They made a bet to see if either of them could...you know, feel it when it happened to the other one, so they each had a stopwatch going to record the time."

"Jesus." Rake laughed.

"As soon as it happened, they both ran out of their rooms naked, waving the watches at each other." Rake shook with laughter on top of him. "They didn't even let the guys finish."

"Oh, my God," Rake cried and fell on him laughing. He lifted up. "So they"—he popped his fist—"and left?"

"Pretty much. I had the severe misfortune of being in the hallway when they ran out."

"That would have made an awesome Doublemint gum commercial."

Rio's whole body shook as he cracked up. "I don't know what they were thinking," he said when he caught his breath. "What the stopwatches had to do with being psychic was more than their drunk minds could comprehend."

"The important question is, why did you guys have two stopwatches?"

***

Rake

Rio's laugh was like the rest of him, smooth and a little reserved. It sparked a fire in Rake's belly, and he moved his lower body until their crotches aligned. He rubbed himself back and forth. Their lungs worked harder as blood went south. Rio gripped Rake's ass and pumped his hips to give him better access. The friction from their jeans caused a hint of pain, but neither of them cared. The pleasure outweighed the pain. The moment went from fun to hot in zero-point-two seconds.

"Rafael," Rio moaned.

Rake's hips stuttered at the sound of his full name on those lips. He liked that. He liked it a lot. He took both their cocks out and wrapped his hand around them. He moved his fist while Rio thrust up, dragging their skin together.

"Fuck. Need lube," Rake muttered.

Rio groaned and pried Rake's hand off and spit into his palm. Rake did the same and used their combined saliva to smooth the friction.

He forgot himself as he sighed in bliss and leaned down. His lips glanced off Rio's, and they both froze.

"Shit, sorry. I didn't mean to."

Rio shook his head. "It's okay, keep going."

Rake pumped his fist faster, but he thirsted for what he'd inadvertently started. Rio's eyes blazed with need, and they stared at each other until one, or both of them, moved. The kiss was everything Rake wanted, hot and heavy with carnal intention. Their tongues slid together, smooth and bitter from beer. Rake sucked and nipped, moaning, happy to taste those lips.

Rio grunted as he came all over Rake's hand, which tripped Rake's orgasm. He came with his tongue in Rio's mouth. God, Rake knew those beautiful lips would be like this. He didn't want to stop, but he couldn't breathe. He lifted his head and his sticky hand. Rio lay under him, blissed-out and debauched.

Fuck, he's sexy. As Rake devoured him with his gaze, he couldn't believe he'd met this man a few hours ago. Sex with a hookup was one thing. Sex with Rio felt like coming home.

"That was...I don't have words." Rake moved off the couch and headed to the utility sink where he washed his hands.

"Hot," Rio said.

Rake turned around, drying his hands while Rio fixed his clothes with smooth movements. He ran a hand through his hair in an attempt to tame it.

"Yeah, definitely hot." What was this feeling? Comfort. Like he'd known Rio his whole life. His insides were warm and fuzzy. It was like being around Hunter, only with lust and fucking. Well...hopefully fucking.

"You can sleep here," Rio said as they walked to the spartan master bedroom.

The house was beautiful—Rio obviously made a good living—and the handmade furniture was out of this world, but did the man have an aversion to things? There was nothing in the bedroom, except the bed and a long bureau. The bed was a masterpiece, the bureau sleek and modern, but no pictures adorned the walls, no electronics, no movies or books. Where on earth was all his stuff? Rake already mourned the loss of his DVD and Blu-ray collection and his giant TV.

Rio went into the bathroom and shut the door while Rake undressed and climbed under the covers. He'd get his bag out of the car in the morning, and his toothbrush.

Reality crashed in as he lay down, and he didn't like what it brought. He'd run away. Cowardly? Maybe. But what else was he supposed to do? People didn't say no to Damian Corsetti, and that was exactly what Rake had done.

Now, there he was, in Rio Danvers's home, his bed, after getting off twice with the man. The man who'd built the bar where he'd sat and laughed with Hunter for years.

Maybe it would all be okay. Deep inside, where he seldom looked, something told him it would be. He was solid and safe. Untouchable. But was that arrogance?

What had that figure in the road said? Love came in many forms, accept help...or something like that. Well, he sure as hell was. Rio had taken him in, fed him, kissed him, and invited him into his bed.

Rio came out of the bathroom and slid in next to him.

"Thanks for everything," Rake said as they got under the covers. Rio wore sleep pants while he remained naked.

"Everything?"

"Bringing me here, feeding me, letting me stay. You don't know anything about me."

Rio stared at him until a soft expression came and went in his dark eyes. "You're welcome."

He got comfortable, and oh God, the bed was so nice. Rake burrowed deeper.

"About what happened in there," Rio began.

His heart thudded, and Rake stilled. "What?"

"You kissed me. You know what this means?"

"What?" Rake asked again, his voice going up an octave.

"We have to go on at least two dates before we do anything else."

Rake sprang up, taking the covers with him. "Are you serious?"

"Very. I told you, I have a rule."

Rake pursed his lips. "So, if we're going on a date, that means I can kiss you again."

He leaned over to do just that, but Rio stopped him. "Not until after the first date."

"Dude, seriously, what's with all these rules? Don't you ever go with the flow?"

"Go with the flow?"

"Uh, yeah."

"You mean like meeting a stranger in town and bringing him to my home?" Rio asked, amused.

"Well...kind of—not really." Rake scowled. "You know what I mean."

Rio chuckled and pulled Rake down beside him. "Get some sleep. I'm always up early."

He snapped off the light, but there was no bedside lamp.

"How did you do that?"

"There's a button on the side of the bed. There's one on your side too."

"Oh, cool." Rake searched around until he found it and pressed it on and off a few times.

He settled back and got comfortable again. His leg bumped Rio's, and he threw it over him, hugging a pillow to his chest.

" 'Nite," he said around a big yawn.

"Good night."

He liked not knowing what the hell time it was, or when he had to get up to train in the morning. He lived on a tight schedule Luis and Hunter set for him. When had his life become so rigid? He never had any free time. Even his downtime at Hunter's bar had to be scheduled in.

"I like kissing you," he whispered into the dark.

He wasn't sure if Rio had already fallen asleep, but he didn't answer.

Chapter 8

James Kairo, aka Kai

The full moon shone bright and the light bounced off George Strazoli's head as he drove his pearl-blue, 1979 Lincoln Continental on the deserted road. George may have been old as dirt and short, but he still had skills.

Georgie Boy's old boss hired James Kairo to track him down, so he could "ask" George where he'd stashed the embezzled funds he'd taken from the mafia twelve years ago. Apparently, it was a lot, and they were still pissed off.

Now, normally, Kai wouldn't be caught dead working for the mafia, pun intended, but they'd somehow found out about a particular weakness of his. He'd managed to make a deal with them. They just had to stick to it, which, let's be honest, wasn't going to happen. But he could hope, and in the meantime find something else they wanted more than keeping him on a short leash.

Breath coming in short pants, Kai shook the shaggy brown hair out of his hazel eyes and ran up the road, looking for a place to hide. He could run all damn day, but he'd never be faster than the car once George finished playing with him.

Kai veered right, sprinted, jumped, and grabbed a low-hanging tree branch. George lumbered past and hit the brakes. Kai got a foothold and hauled himself up the tree. His cell phone rang while he watched the car, and he dug it out of his pocket as he waited to see if George would get out and try to shoot him or keep driving.

"James Kairo," he answered.

"Kai! It's Lila. How's it hanging?"

Kai looked down at his legs as they dangled over the dark ground lit by the brake lights of the old mobster's car. "Pretty high-up right now. How are you, darling?"

"Fantastic, only we've got a bit of a situation on our hands over here. Hunter wants to give you a job."

Kai frowned as he recalled the last time he'd worked for Hunter. "Uh, well..."

"Oh, come on, Kai. You're not still holding a grudge, are you? Hunter is like that with everyone."

The car door opened, and Kai tensed. "Lila, the man threatened to tear out my windpipe the next time he saw me, and that was not just a figure of speech."

"Like I said, he's like that with everyone," Lila deadpanned. "Hunter wants you, so he'll have to behave."

Kai made a noncommittal noise as he kept an eye on George's slow exit from the car. "I've got a bit of a situation here, sweetness, but I'll try to make it tomorrow if possible."

"Okay, but hurry. It's life or death."

Kai ended the call as George finally emerged from the car. His stooped-over posture made guilt well up. He yelled down, "George, we can play this game all night, but—"

George lifted a .357 Magnum, braced against the car, and aimed at the tree. Kai ducked behind a branch as George's shot rang out into the still night. It missed by a mile, but Kai wasn't going to take any chances. He liked his hide.

"Now look, old man, you'd better put that gun away before you get hurt!"

George got off another shot, but hadn't braced himself well, and fell over. Kai sighed and banged his head against the tree. It was going to be a long night.

***

Rake

Morning arrived and Rio had disappeared from the bed. Rake staggered into the bathroom and did his business. He sniffed his armpit. Yep, definitely need a shower. The large white-and-jade tiled space was still damp from Rio's shower and smelled like oranges and eucalyptus.

He used everything except the razor, stepped out, dried off, and tied the towel at his hips. He found some mouthwash under the sink. He needed his bag. If he planned on staying, that was. Rio had been more than kind the night before, but Rake couldn't stay there forever. Maybe he could find a hotel in town, though that would eat through his cash if he wasn't careful. Plus, he had no clue if Corsetti was, in fact, actively searching for him. If that proved to be the case, he shouldn't linger. Maybe he thought Rake wasn't worth the trouble?

His father came to mind, but he wouldn't be any help. Ray'd tell him to come back and do what he'd been told.

Rake stepped out of the bathroom and, figuring Rio hadn't cared about his stolen clothes last night, rummaged in Rio's closet and drawers for jeans and a shirt. He shivered in the morning chill, so he fished out a flannel shirt as well and threw it on. It smelled like Rio—the same scent he remembered from the studio last night.

He stepped out into the hall and crashed into someone. "Whoa."

Hands reached out to steady him. A stranger's hands. Geez, is Rio's house a freaking visitor's center?

The stranger was handsome, though nowhere near as striking as Rio. He had the frat-guy look with short, reddish-gold hair, a square jaw and strong chin. He was taller than Rake's six-foot height by a couple of inches, and wider.

His blue-green eyes swept over Rake as he lifted a corner of his mouth. "Carter Thorn."

"Rake. Nice to meetcha."

"Likewise." He let Rake go and crossed his arms over his wide chest. His biceps bulged and blocked half the hallway. "I have to say, those clothes look better on you than Rio."

Rake considered the man. "I don't know about that. I'm pretty sure Rio could make parachute pants look good."

Carter chuckled and unwound his arms. "You must be the guy he left the bar with last night." Carter stuck out his hand for a shake. "I turned around and my wingman was gone."

Rake took his hand back from the hard grip with an amused smile. "I hope I am. Two men in twenty-four hours is fine, but a third might be pushing it."

Carter let out a full laugh this time. He slapped Rake's shoulder, put his arm around him, and pulled him to the kitchen.

"Ah, Chaze doesn't count. And I don't mean that in a bad way. Chaze is a good guy. It just wasn't really like that for Rio."

Rake helped himself to the coffeepot and a mug hanging from a little tree on the counter, while Carter leaned against it and watched him.

"Where is the man of the hour?" Rake asked.

"Studio."

Rake nodded and sipped. "I'll just go..."

"I'll go with you."

Carter gave an insincere smile, and Rake bit off a sigh. Rio's friend had a bug up his ass. Was it Rio or Rake he was annoyed with?

They walked in silence to the studio until the sound of a band saw shrieked through the air.

Carter raised a hand. "It's best not to surprise him when the saw is on," he shouted.

The noise stopped and Carter opened the door wide. "Honey! I'm home."

Rake shook his head with a bemused smirk. Rio pulled goggles off his face and turned toward them. Even covered in sawdust, he was stunning.

He ran a forearm over his brow and smiled at Rake. "Good morning. Hey, Carter."

"Morning."

" 'Hey, Carter?' That's it?"

Rio took out small ear protectors. "What?"

"Nothing." Carter waved him off.

Rake wandered over to see Rio's work and got swept into his magnetic pull.

"You're cute when you sleep, you know."

Rake stilled and raised a brow. "Cute? I've never been accused of such a thing."

Rio grinned. "What?" he asked Carter.

"You...never mind. I'm guessing you saw Chaze last night?"

"Briefly."

Carter looked at Rake, then at Rio. "That explains it."

"What happened?"

Carter walked over to sit on the couch. "He got kind of belligerent. I had to escort him out and talk him down."

Rio's brows flew up. "Chaze did?"

When Rio glanced at Rake, he shrugged.

"He was with Slade and saw us leaving."

Carter nodded. "Don't worry about it."

Rio sagged against the workbench.

"What's the matter?" Rake asked.

"I don't know. I feel a little responsible. I mean, I could have let him down a little more gently."

"Why would you do that? Then he might hold out hope that you secretly like him." Rake moved over to Rio's side. "Unless that's what you want."

Rio and Rake stared at each other while Carter's eyes pinged between them.

"No, that's not what I want."

"Huh." Carter grunted as he stood and walked to the door. "Well, like I said, don't worry about him. I'll take care of it."

"Carter. Come on, man. He lives in town."

"I know that!" He scowled. "I didn't say I was going to fuck him, for Christ's sake." He left with a backward wave.

"Well, that was interesting."

"Was he an ass?" Rio asked. He took Rake's coffee and finished it in one swallow.

"Just a smidge."

"Sorry about that. He can be...overprotective." Rio frowned at his choice of words, set the cup on the counter and pushed Rake against it, boxing him in. He leaned in, his lips an inch away. "I really want to kiss you."

"You have my blessing."

But instead, Rio ran his nose along Rake's cheek and down to his neck. He swiped a wet strip with his tongue and followed it with a kiss below his ear.

"About this cuteness of yours."

Rake snorted. "What did I do? Snore? Talk? Drool?"

"I'll take it to my grave." Rio grinned and kissed his cheek. "Come on. I'm starving."

Chapter 9

Rake

Rio pulled Rake by the hand and shut the doors. Instead of heading to the house, he led Rake around the walkway to his truck. He brushed sawdust off his clothes before he got in, and Rake jumped in beside him.

"Classic truck."

Rio smiled over at Rake as the sun bathed him in light and made his dark hair shine with a copper glow. They drove down the mountain to a cozy little place made of logs tucked in a corner of the quaint town.

Rio parked and stepped out.

"Rio!"

They turned at the shout, and Rake stood off to the side while a man and woman with a small boy walked over.

Rio talked to them for a minute, looking behind him at Rake, in question, so he walked over.

"This is my friend Rake."

"Hi, there."

They greeted him with warm smiles, then moved off when an old man with long black-and-gray hair came over and took their place.

Rake did a double take. "You must be the grandfather."

The old man smiled at Rake with an assessing eye. "Fox Hawkwing." They shook hands.

"Rafael da Silva. Nice to meet you."

"Likewise. The only way you could have recognized me is if you saw my portrait. Which means you've been in my grandson's house."

Fox pivoted and slapped Rio's shoulder. "Good for you, River. You got yourself a live one this time."

"Grandad," Rio warned.

Ignoring him, Fox said to Rake, "I told him to go out and meet you."

"Oh, yeah? Well, thanks. I owe you one."

Rio groaned and walked off while Fox and Rake grinned at each other.

"Oh, crap. Gotta go."

"Rake, wait." Fox grabbed his elbow. "I'll come with you."

"Weren't you leaving?" Not that Rake cared. Fox was a cool old man.

"And miss this? As if."

Rake walked arm-in-arm with Fox, who had a slight limp, into the restaurant, behind Rio. The two men were hailed by everyone in the place. Rake saw a few curious gazes on him, but no one was overly concerned. They gave him smiles and nods.

"Wait." Rake came to a stop. "How did you know my nickname is Rake?"

Fox pursed his wrinkled lips and looked off to the side. "I must have heard it from one of the girls."

Rake assumed by "girls" he meant Zorah and Zadie. He nodded in thought. Plausible. But suspicious.

Decorations consisted of old oil cans and gas pumps, but the smell of bacon and coffee made Rake's stomach growl. He sat beside Rio in a booth, and Fox took the opposite seat. Rio stared at his grandfather while Fox stared back with slow blinks.

A black-haired server came over. "Hey, Rio." He was young, in his late teens or early twenties, and he looked at Rio with hearts in his eyes.

"Hi, Jared. Can we get coffees all around and a plate of biscuits to start?"

"Sure."

He hurried off, and Rake opened his menu. Before Rafe had even read two items, a carafe came. He fixed a cup, and the biscuits came over, all steaming and buttery a few seconds later.

"Are you like royalty I don't know about?" Rake chuckled. "What's with the fast service?"

Rio cleared his throat and buried his head in the menu.

Fox leaned forward and whispered, "Jared has a little crush on Rio."

"Ah. That explains it." Rake held his smile in check while Jared returned before they could blink.

"Ready to order?" Jared stared at Rio, bottom lip between his teeth, oblivious to everything and everyone else.

Rake bit his own lip and cleared his throat. Jared winced and blushed. Rake got it. Rio packed a powerful punch. The kid stood no chance.

"I'll have the sunshine platter."

"I'll have pancakes and bacon."

They handed off the menus, Fox waving his hand in dismissal—he must've already eaten—and Jared scurried away.

"So, Rake," Fox began. "Tell me about your birth."

Rake paused with his cup hovering in front of his lips. "Uh...sorry, what? My birth?"

"Grandad," Rio warned. "Don't."

"Why not?"

"Because I know what you're doing, and just don't." Rio grabbed a biscuit and slathered it with butter.

Rake leaned into Rio's side. "What's he doing?"

Rio sighed. "It's—he's...it's kind of like he's figuring out your spirit."

"My spirit?" Rake questioned Fox.

"Your spirit," he said as if that clarified it.

"A-ha." Rake stuffed half a biscuit in his mouth to buy time. "Well, I was born in the back of an ambulance on the way to a hospital, addicted to heroin."

Rio's hand landed on his knee and squeezed. Fox nodded for Rake to keep going.

"Um, my birthday is July thirty-first. I'm a Leo?"

Rio snickered, then coughed when Fox turned familiar eyes on him.

"Rio's a Capricorn."

Response at the ready, he stalled when their meals arrived and forgot everything but his food for a while. People stopped on their way out as the three of them each lingered over another cup of coffee. A portly windbag with a bad comb-over shot nasty glances at their table before he paid the check and hustled his family out the door.

Weird town.
Chapter 10

Rio

Rio spent more time watching his grandfather than eating. He also had an entire conversation with Fox without a word. The man spoke volumes with his eyes.

Rake hadn't run yet. He'd suffered through surprise nakedness and sisters, Carter's attitude, and now Fox's interrogation, and he'd done it with a smile and a laugh. Fox wasn't finished, though. Funny that he'd never done this with Chaze.

Jim Slade and his family, minus Jack, sat at a nearby table, because of course they had to be there. Oh, the joy of living in a small town. Rio did his best to ignore them. They left soon after, thank God.

"Rio and I are going on a spiritual outing soon. You should join us."

Rake dragged his attention away from his food. "Oh, I wouldn't intrude on family time."

"Nonsense. Anyone's welcome."

Hank Johnson came over to engage Fox in his spiel for the new town gazebo, and Rake leaned into Rio's side.

He pretended to hold a microphone to his mouth. "What exactly is a spiritual outing?" He moved the invisible microphone to Rio's mouth.

"It's a way to get guidance from the Great Spirit. You don't have to come. Don't worry."

Rake sat back and stared at him. "What if I want to? I could use some guidance."

"Then it's settled," Fox cut in. "Thursday we'll drive out and stay the night."

"Rio," Hank said. "Thank you for the work you did on City Hall."

"You're welcome. It was no trouble at all."

Hank was a short, round man with a bald head, shiny and red. His eyes glittered with mirth as he placed a hand on Rake's shoulder. "Great win the other night, son. Welcome to Riverbend."

Rake's hand was pumped and let go as Hank found someone else to talk to.

"So, what now?" Rake asked. He fished his wallet out of his jacket pocket and threw a twenty on the table next to his check, completely bypassing Hank's comments.

"I don't know about you, but I'd like to go on a date. So we can have fun later," he whispered into Rake's ear as they scooted out of the booth.

Rake smirked. "Fine by me."

Fox rubbed his hands together and started a prayer.

Rake looked to Rio for advice, but he shook his head. Shrugging, Rake stood still while Fox chanted.

"It's kind of like he's cleansing your aura," Rio said in a quiet voice.

"I know you're not embarrassed, River Hawkwing." Fox's voice rang out in the sudden quiet.

"No, Grandad. I'm just trying to explain it to Rake. It can be confusing for people who don't know you."

Fox grunted and nodded. "True."

Marybeth Clearwater brought her young son over to them. "Would you mind, Mr. Hawkwing?"

Fox gave Jimmy a blessing, and Rio steered Rake away as he watched in fascination.

"That language is Navajo?"

"It is, yes."

"It's beautiful."

Rio stopped at the passenger door of his truck and turned to Rake, who waved at the front door with a smile.

"You think so?"

Rake's face folded in confusion. "Well, yeah. Why wouldn't I?"

He shook his head. "You'd be surprised by how many people would like to see it erased."

Rake's confusion morphed into outrage. "Yeah, and those people are called bigoted assholes."

Rio agreed and opened the door for him. He climbed in, and Rio did the same on his side.

"So, where are we going?"

"Patience."

Rake accepted that with a smile. "The more family members of yours I meet, the better they get."

Rio grinned with one hand on the wheel and the other arm braced on the window. "They are great."

As he drove, Rake teased him mercilessly about Jared's crush until he pulled up to a large warehouse. Dozens of cars were parked on the grounds.

As the dust from the gravel settled, they jumped out and Rake read the sign by the door. "Indoor Flea Market?"

Rio grinned and held out his hand. Rake took it and linked fingers with him. He liked that Rake didn't care if they were in public.

"Yep. I can find something for my grandma's birthday."

He opened the door and they walked into the cavernous space. Cubicles arranged with tables and shelves held every kind of art and antique imaginable. There was furniture and retro clothing on racks. Johnny Cash played from somewhere nearby, and the smell of kettle corn filled the air.

"What does your grandma like?" Rake asked.

Rio steered him to the right. "Paint supplies, jewelry, gardening, and her grandkids."

Rake grinned when he spotted where they were headed. Twin blonde heads bopped to the music as they arranged their wares.

"Rio!" Zadie cried as she spotted them. "Rake!"

Zorah smiled and waved but continued speaking to a customer.

"What are you doing here?"

"We're on a date," Rake announced. He bounced on his toes, and it made Rio smile.

Zadie grinned and bounced on her toes, too. "That's awesome!"

"Rake, I want you to meet my husband, David." Zorah came over with a giant man with red hair and brown eyes. The adoration in his gaze was sickly-sweet as he looked at his wife.

"Rafael da Silva. Great to meet you, man. Awesome win the other night."

"Thanks. I had no idea people would recognize me outside of the ring."

Zorah laughed. "David is a sports nut. He knows obscure things about everyone. He owns a sports memorabilia shop."

"That's cool. I'd love to check it out."

"I have a table here if you make your way around."

Rio pulled Rake away from his sisters. "We've got a gift to find. Catch you all later."

Rake followed behind Rio as he hunted around the tables and skirted elderly folks and kids. Someone stopped him every few minutes to chat and ask after Fox. He should have known this would take forever. His grandad was so well-known, it was impossible to go anywhere without someone mentioning him.

"I've never seen so many friendly people in one place." Rake put on a fedora and looked in a handy mirror. "Is it always like this?"

"Yep. Grandad is famous around here." He hesitated before he added, "I guess you're a little famous yourself?"

Rake snorted and turned to him after he replaced the hat. "Hardly."

"Hank and David recognized you."

"Yeah, that never happens."

"So, you're good?" Rio asked. "You won something?"

Rake tried to hide his smile. "I won the welterweight championship."

"Wow. That's huge! Congratulations."

"Thanks." Rake's smile faded, and he stared off in the distance.

"What is it?" Rio moved them out of the aisle and took his hand.

Rake's gray eyes caught a shaft of sunlight. "I can't stay here. I'm sorry. Not that we've made any promises—we just met—but I don't want to up and disappear on you either." He hesitated, then continued, "I kind of like you. And your family. And this small town. So far."

The fear in Rake's eyes made Rio's chest tighten. "What are you running from?"

Rake gripped Rio's hand. "I can't get you involved. I've been here too long as it is." He shook his head when Rio tried to speak, and walked over to another stall. "Have you ever wanted to leave?" Rake asked.

"Sure." Rio shoved his hands into his pockets. "I left for a few years of college, but it wasn't far. I don't know. I like to travel, but my family is here. My friends. My studio."

Rake nodded. "I don't have anything keeping me in Vegas besides boxing. I'd miss my friend Hunter, but that's it."

Rake walked backward while Rio stepped forward between his boots. He reached out and snagged Rake's shirt before he hit a table, and they both chuckled.

"What about family?"

Rake shook his head, and Rio dropped it.

"Why is Fox famous?" Rake asked.

"He's a tribal elder."

"So, he's kind of like a public official or something?"

"Yeah, sort of. I guess well-respected would be more appropriate than famous."

"What about your parents?"

"Mom is gone most of the time. My stepdad, Aaron Danvers, raised us with our grandparents. He adopted me as soon as Mom had me."

"Where is your mom?"

"She travels a lot. She's a part of this...I guess you could call it a band of gypsies, though they're more like a hippie group. It's hard to describe. You just have to see them."

"And you all are okay with that?"

"Not always. I used to have a lot of resentment toward her and my biological father." Rake listened while Rio spoke and picked up random things. "Grandad helped me through it. We've gone on countless camping trips."

"Spiritual outings, you mean?"

"Right." His lips curled into a smile, and Rake's eyes lingered there.

"And you need another one right now?" Rake's voice wavered and he cleared his throat.

He stopped and gave him a look. "I think he knew it wasn't just me that needed it."

"But didn't you plan this before you met me?" Rake's brow furrowed.

He chuckled. "Grandad always knows."

Rake was still confused as Rio pulled him over to a booth run by Mrs. Larson. She made beautiful pressed-flower window ornaments in glass.

"Perfect."

"Those are nice."

Rio paid and took the wrapped package.

"Let's run by David's table—then we can get out of here."

"Do we get to make out now?" Rake asked.

Rio grinned. "Hell, yes."
Chapter 11

Corsetti

The punch landed on the side of Ray's head. Tiny pulled it, or else he'd be in Lala Land.

"I find it odd you don't know where your son is, Ray," Damian said.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Corsetti. The boy never had much respect."

"That much we agree on." Damian adjusted the black tie over the black silk shirt he wore. Ray da Silva was a pathetic human being. Happy to give up his son. For what? He wasn't earning any respect that way.

"I try to keep up with him, but he hides a lot from me."

Ray continued to whine, and Damian tuned him out. He motioned for Tiny, and the man shuffled over. When he picked up his feet, things tended to rattle around.

"Call that private dick. What is his name?"

"James Kairo," Tiny rumbled.

"Yes. Have him find Rafael. I don't want to waste money on the kid, but I don't like being disrespected like this. It's bad for business."

"Yes, sir." Tiny picked Ray up by the back of his jacket and dragged him out of the office with him.

Damian sighed as he sat at his desk. He was alone for the moment. That wouldn't last long. The phone rang and he closed his eyes, praying for patience.

"Why are you dragging a civilian into this?"

Damian knew that voice well. It haunted his dreams. "I don't want a paper trail."

"Why look for da Silva at all?"

"You're joking, right? He ran from me. People will take that as a sign of weakness. I can't afford that right now." He ran a hand over his damp face. "Not with people already suspicious."

The voice was silent for a moment. "Fine. But you know the drill."

"Yeah, I got it."

Damian slammed the phone in the cradle and swore. Rafael running away couldn't have come at a worse time. The little shit. He'd find him, no matter what.

***

Rake

Rake stumbled through the front door, and Rio's arms steadied him. He sucked in a breath through his nose while he tried to walk backward and keep his lips on Rio's at the same time.

He hit the wall and grunted, and Rio crowded him, chest-to-chest, groin-to-groin. His tongue delved deeper into Rake's mouth and he moaned.

God, the man could kiss.

Rio hiked Rake's leg up and shoved his hips forward, smashing their cocks together.

He tore free and gulped in oxygen. "Damn." Rio's lips were like magic. Every time they touched him, his skin tingled, and a deep yearning rose from his belly and tried to claw its way closer to him.

Rio kissed his way to Rake's neck and shoved his hands behind him. He grabbed each ass cheek and squeezed.

"I thought you said two dates?" Rake said through panting breaths.

Rio leaned in to kiss his lips. "For sex. We're just making out."

"Well, you're going to make me cream my jeans—I mean, your jeans."

Rio eased away with a grin. "Fine. Since you can't hold on, we can do something else."

"Wait, I never said I couldn't hold on."

"You literally just did."

He huffed. "Well, now I'm focused."

"Mm," Rio hummed against Rake's mouth. "Sounds intense." He slid his lips over the stubble on Rake's cheek.

"Oh, baby, you have no idea."

Rio smiled against his skin and thrust his hips forward.

A breeze blew over them from the open door, and Rio kicked it closed. As he moved into position, Rake nipped and sucked at Rio's ear, and when he shivered, blew a stream of air on it and down his neck.

Rake wasn't kidding. He possessed the focus and stamina of a world-class athlete, and he'd use every bit of it to drive Rio out of his mind. He tamped down on the need to come, and back-walked Rio to the living room and the brown leather sectional there. He gave Rio a little push, so he fell to the couch. Rake stood for a moment to admire the long male form of physical perfection spread out before him.

A half smirk adorned Rio's face, but his eyes blazed with need. "You going to stand there and stare?" He reached down to massage his bulge.

Rake licked his lips as he remembered the taste of Rio's come the night before. "I'm planning."

"Planning what? All we can do is make—oof!"

Rake landed on top of Rio and attacked his lips. He notched his hips against him with every thrust of his tongue into Rio's mouth. Rio moaned and dug his fingers into Rake's back. He lifted one leg and threw it up on the cushions to give him room. Rio's erection pushed against his as he changed course and moved down his body. He rucked his shirt up, licked his nipples until they were stiffened peaks, and sucked on them while Rio thrashed. He shoved his hand between them to grab his cock, but Rake intercepted it and planted both hands on each side of his head.

"Ohnoyoudon't. No coming, remember?"

Rio cursed, raised his hips, and wrapped his long legs around Rake's lower back. Rake swirled his groin and caught Rio under the balls.

He gasped and writhed. "Rake." Rio panted. "Rake."

"Hm? What?" Rake kissed each rib.

"Fuck! I can't. I can't."

Rake tilted his head to meet Rio's eyes. "You forfeit?"

Rio pushed his head into the couch and groaned. "Fuck you. When did this turn into a contest?"

Rake grinned and continued to tease his ticklish ribs. Goose bumps rose and Rake licked a wide path across his stomach, following the faintest trail of hair to the top of his fly.

He stopped to gauge Rio's reaction and lifted a brow. Rio scowled. Rake chuckled and suddenly found himself flipped over. Rio straddled him and bore down on his thighs. Rio grabbed Rake's hands to link their fingers and leaned over.

"Payback."

"Give it to me, baby," Rake said with a grin. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had so much fun. Most of the time Rake's dates consisted of a little flirting and a lot of fucking; then he was out the door. But Rio wouldn't stand for that. Oh sure, he'd have a one-night stand, that had been the intention before they'd kissed after all, but with the rule only Rio understood, he'd drawn a line and by God, he wouldn't step over it.

Rio kissed him with small, teasing nips and sucks, followed by a hard and deep thrust of his tongue down Rake's throat.

He leaned away with a mischievous glint in his eye. "You like to get a little dirty, right?"

Rake's lips spread into a slow smile as Rio's throat worked hard to swallow. Oh, he liked where this was headed. "Yes. Fuck, yes. What is it? Do it. Do anything you want." Mesmerized, he squirmed under Rio's delicious ass and punched his hips up. Blood rushed. Skin burned.

Rio used his thumb to open Rake's mouth wide and spit into it. Rake's cock stiffened more than he thought possible. Rio held him still and lowered his head. His tongue came out, and he licked at the saliva on Rake's tongue. Rake groaned as Rio lapped at it, then shared it with him once again. He kissed him and sucked on his tongue.

"That's so fucking hot."

Rio rolled his hips over Rake's hard cock. His ass rubbed Rake's groin raw inside his jeans, but he didn't care. It felt too damn good to stop.

Rio's hands snuck under his shirt and pinched his nipples. He cried out and bit his lip hard to stop his orgasm. Fuuuck...any minute now. He couldn't last.

Rio bucked and yelled. He fell toward to bury his face in Rake's neck.

"Goddammit," Rio muttered.

Rake's laughter made Rio lift his head.

"That was un-fucking-believable, but I really need to come right now."

"Do it." Rio moved to the side, so he was half lying on him.

Rake unzipped, shoved his jeans down, and squeezed his cock. He lifted his hand to Rio's face, and Rio licked the palm. Rake stared at Rio as he jerked his hot cock hard and fast. The air leaving Rake's lungs flowed into Rio's open mouth.

"Yes."

Rio stared at his flying fist, then into his eyes. Desire pulsed in his veins from the sensation of Rio watching him get off. He cradled Rake's balls and slid a finger down to press on his taint. Rake let loose with a barrage of grunts, gasps, and curses. The smell of come ripened the air.

Rio sighed and moved to stand. "You want to rinse off with me?"

Rake stood beside him and lifted his sticky hand once again to Rio's face. "Do you want to lick my jizz first?"

His eyes darkened with need. Oh yeah, he likes that.

Rio took his hand and led him to the bedroom. Turning, he shoved Rake against the counter and took his hand in both of his. He started with one finger, and one-by-one, sucked them down to the knuckle and gathered every last drop. He finished with a lick and kiss to the back of his hand.

Stunned, Rake's heart thumped hard. Rio disrobed, and Rake smiled, took off his own clothes, and followed Rio into the shower. His ass was a work of art and Rake stared at it while he washed. He moved in and palmed the flesh, separating the cheeks to see Rio's hole.

Rio twisted around. "What are you doing back there?"

"Just looking." He wanted to taste him. He licked his lips, but Rio twisted around and grabbed his face before Rake could lower to his knees.

"I want to shove my tongue in your ass," Rake said, his voice gritty.

Rio's eyes darkened. "I have to get to work."

"Oh."

Rio grunted and laughed. "There you go being cute again."

"What?"

"You're pouting 'cause you can't eat my ass."

He opened his mouth to deny it, but Rio kissed him. He got lost in the taste of him until he pulled away. Rio flipped the water off and together they dried themselves.

Rio threw clean clothes at him, and they got dressed. He was once again surrounded by Rio's scent....It made his heart stutter.

His cell rang, tearing him from his thoughts, and Rio smiled and left to give him privacy. He sank onto the bed as his father's name flashed on the screen. He shouldn't. It wouldn't help.

"Ray?"

"Boy, where the hell are you?"

"None of your business."

"Don't take that tone with me. You just won shitloads of money, thanks to me."

He'd had this conversation with his father many times. Ray believed Rake owed him for the training. Rake repaid him. Rake paid his loan sharks. Rake paid for everything. He was done with his shit.

"I didn't see your ass in that ring." He gritted his teeth. Dammit. He knew better than to let Ray get to him.

The line went silent long enough for Rake to check the screen. "Come home, boy," Ray said in an eerie falsetto. "Corsetti agreed to an extension. We'll get the money."

Rake's heart hammered in his chest. There was no way Ray wanted to help his son. No fucking way. "Let me guess. Corsetti threatened you, too?"

He heard Ray's teeth grinding through the phone. "This is your fault. If you hadn't run, we could have figured it out! You fucking pansy! We could have taken out a loan until your winnings cleared. But no, you had to run away like the little coward you—"

Rake hung up.

Chapter 12

Rio

"What's wrong?" Rio asked.

Darkness passed over Rake's face when he entered the living room. He'd been fine earlier, so it must have been the phone call. It bothered Rio.

Odd how fast he'd come to recognize Rake's expressions. The man had been unfailingly cheerful, except for that conversation at the flea market about him needing to leave.

"I should probably grab my own clothes and get out of here." Rake ran a hand through his wet hair and squeezed some moisture out.

Rio's stomach clenched and he blew out a slow breath. "Why?" His voice came out rough.

"I told you, I've stayed too long as it is. I can't—I won't get you involved in my mess."

Rio went to stand in front of him and stared deep into his eyes. "What if I want to be involved?"

Rake's brows scrunched in that cute way. His eyes held so many emotions, Rio couldn't keep up.

"You don't know what you're saying."

"Then tell me." He lifted a hand and placed his palm against Rake's unshaved cheek.

Rake spun around and walked out of the room. He paused to admire the view before hurrying after him.

"Do you think I'll be okay letting you walk out the door while knowing you're in trouble?"

Rake stopped with hands on his hips and scanned the kitchen. Rio opened the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water.

Rake scowled as he took it. "How did you know that's what I wanted?"

"Because you've had nothing but coffee all day and you're an athlete. You know the importance of staying hydrated." He grabbed one for himself and leaned against the counter.

Rake twisted the top off and chugged. "Look, I appreciate what you're saying, but you don't have the first clue about what's going on. I won't bring my shit to your table. You don't know me."

He slammed the bottle on the counter, and Rio walked into his space to grab him behind the neck. Giving him a small shake, he kissed his nose. Rake puffed out a small laugh.

"Rake, you don't know me either. Even if we weren't fooling around or dating, I would never let you walk away if I could help in some way. That's not who I am."

Rake sagged and rested his head against Rio's shoulder. "I'm sorry I went off."

"It's okay."

Rake stepped away. "I appreciate you saying that, but this isn't something you can help with. It's too dangerous."

"Dangerous?" He looked Rake over from head to toe. "Mafia?"

Rake's mouth sagged open. "How the fuck...?"

"Vegas. Boxer. Danger." Rio ticked off. "It doesn't take a genius to figure it out."

Rake paced the kitchen. "Yes. Okay? Damian Corsetti came to me after my win. He wants me to be an enforcer for him." He whipped around. "An enforcer! Do you know what that means?"

"Rake."

"He wants me to beat people who don't do what he says. Possibly even kill them! He also wants a shitload of money."

"Rake. Calm down." He stepped into his path. "Deep breaths." An idea came to him. "Come on. I know what you need."

Rake followed him into the studio. Rio gathered some supplies and set Rake up in his sister's area. Rake sat on the stool and stared as Rio plopped a huge glob of wet clay in front of him.

"Pound it. Shape it. Whatever you want. Dip your fingers in the water when it gets too dry."

He slapped Rake's shoulder and went to his own bench. He had work to do. Everything else could wait. Their problems would still be there.

***

Rake

Rake stared at the wet lump of brown in front of him. What the hell was he supposed to do with it? He rolled up the sleeves of Rio's plaid flannel and poked at it. It was...oddly satisfying. So, he grabbed more and squished it between his fingers.

He peeked over the high counter. Rio was absorbed in measuring, so Rake made a fist and punched the clay. It sank in and left an impression of his knuckles. He kept it up and soon lost track of time.

It felt good. Cathartic. He tried to shape a bowl but ended with a lumpy dish. He didn't care; he was just glad to get out of his head for a while.

Crap. Had he acted like an ass? It hit him like a slap to the face. He'd wanted a distraction from his messy life, but he didn't want to use Rio to get it. Maybe Rio knew what he was doing, making rules and sticking to them. There was less confusion and heartache that way. Rake stood and stretched, shocked by the angle of the sunbeams through the high windows.

How long was I doing that?

He washed his hands, dried them, and checked the time. Three hours had flown by. He grabbed a water bottle out of the mini-fridge and settled in to watch Rio work.

Planing, that's what it's called. Rio's muscles bunched and released with the motions of the tool. Stunningly gorgeous with wood chips and sweat covering his sculpted, tanned forearms, Rio stopped and glanced over his shoulder.

"How are you feeling?"

Rake smiled. "Better, thanks, but now I'm starving."

Rio put his tools away and washed in the utility sink. "Let's go see what I've got. I'm not much for cooking."

"Me either, but I can make a mean grilled cheese."

He followed Rio into the house, and together they scrounged up some bread, cheese, and butter.

"How did you know that would help?" Rake asked as he polished off his third sandwich.

Rio smiled. "Zadie always comes in to pound clay when she's pissed. Usually at her girlfriend, Jen, who is notoriously flaky."

He picked at the crumbs, staring at nothing. Rio waited without saying a word.

"I was tempted, you know?" Rake whispered. "Nobody says no to Corsetti." He squeezed Rio's hand but refused to meet his gaze. "But I was scared. My father works for him, so it was inevitable. I guess they were waiting until I was actually worth something. So, I ran."

"And that makes you, what? A coward?" Rio guessed.

Rake whipped his head up. "Of course it does!" He exploded from his chair and ran his hands through his hair.

Rio stayed seated and crossed his arms. "No, it doesn't. It's your life, Rake. Why should you stay there and let that asshole control you?"

He stopped pacing to stare at the man. He was crazy, an oddball. Rake liked it, but still... "Everyone I know in Vegas would disagree. Well, except maybe Hunter."

"Everyone would be wrong." Rio stood and walked over to him. Midnight eyes bored into Rake's as Rio grasped his shoulders. "You're not a coward. You left everything you knew, a championship career, and I'm guessing a hell of a lot of endorsements, your family and friends because you refused to compromise your morals and hurt people. That took a hell of a lot of courage." Rio leaned in and kissed his lips. "I'm in awe of you."

Tears pricked his eyes, and he blinked hard. Rio tugged, and he fell into warm, strong arms. He buried his face in Rio's neck and inhaled the crisp, clean scent. That was the smell he couldn't place, from the wood he carved.

"Thank you," he mumbled against Rio's skin. He pulled away with reluctance. "But he's going to kill me, Rio. Or beat me and threaten me until I give in. Or worse, kill someone I care about." He met Rio's dark eyes with trepidation.

Rio gave a worried frown. "Listen, I have a friend with the US Marshals in Salt Lake. Let's go talk to him."

A small kernel of hope unfurled in his chest. "You do? Do you trust him? Corsetti has people in his pocket, and Salt Lake isn't that far from Vegas. I couldn't go to the cops there because everyone knows they take kickbacks."

Rio grinned, stunning Rake stupid with his beauty.

"Not Judge."
Chapter 13

Kairo

Kai followed the bread crumbs left by Rafael da Silva to a small town called Riverbend in Utah. Rafael's phone was still on, so it hadn't been difficult to track him. For Kai anyway. Not any ole' PI off the street could track people via cell phone, but Kai had a buddy at the phone company who also took cash for favors.

Kai was in a pickle. He'd been hired by two different clients to find Rafael da Silva, and he didn't know who to give the man to. He owed a Hunter a favor, but Damian Corsetti would kill him.

Choices, choices.

Dust swirled and settled on his shitty Ford as he came to a stop outside of the first motel he found. The Bluebird was quaint with its hand-painted signs. A bell above the door jingled as he opened it, and he coughed from the dust in his throat. He spotted an old water cooler in the corner and drank several tiny cups full, the cold water soothing the irritation.

He surveyed his surroundings. Midcentury, not-modern, the place hadn't been redecorated since the '70s, at least. Everything was old except for the TV in the corner and the laptop on the counter. The olive-green carpet and wood-paneled walls made him nostalgic, which was odd because he'd never had those things in his home as a child. His mother would have had a coronary.

Music played from somewhere as Kai sauntered over with a big grin. The little guy manning the counter had a nametag that said Rufus, and he squinted at Kai with brown eyes. He was about thirty, Kai guessed.

"Hi, there. I was hoping you could help me." He leaned on one elbow against the counter, shaggy hair falling into his eyes. "I'm looking for a man named Rafael da Silva. Goes by Rake." Kai pulled a press clipping from Rake's last fight and showed it to him.

He studied it while shaking his head. "Nah. He's not a guest here."

Kai clicked his tongue in disappointment and put the picture in his pocket. "This is a pretty small town, right?"

Rufus scoffed. "You got that right."

"Have you heard any rumors about a boxer from Vegas in town?"

Rufus's face scrunched as he scratched at a patch of uneven stubble. "I haven't heard anything. Maybe you could try at the Daisy Bell."

Kai nodded. "And where's that?"

"Just past Main Street at the curve before the mountain."

"Well, Rufus, thank you for your help. It's been a pleasure." Kai shook the man's hand with a parting smile. It never hurt to keep the locals on his good side. He was a little surprised Rufus hadn't asked him who he was, what he wanted, or demanded money for information, but he chalked it up to small-town mentality.

Kai got in his car and wiped at the sweat on his brow. Damn Corsetti. He couldn't say no, not with what they had on him, but turning Rake over to them would be a shitty thing to do. He recognized da Silva, sort of, through Hunter. Rake was a decent guy, but Kai had no choice.

He banged his fist on the wheel a few times before he pulled out of the lot toward Main Street. The Daisy Bell was exactly where Rufus said it'd be. He parked and got out of the car, nodding and smiling to the locals. Blending in was his specialty, and skulking around while ignoring people would get him noticed.

He pushed his sunglasses up on his head as he entered the restaurant. Forgoing a booth, he chose a seat at the breakfast bar and ordered a coffee with a dash of cinnamon and settled in to wait.

"He looked so good today." A young man's voice carried from behind a large silver beverage machine.

"You say that every time he comes in," came an exasperated female voice. "What I want to know is, who was that hottie with the body with him?"

"I have no idea. I've never seen him before. I heard Hank say something about him winning something."

A man ran over, and in a harsh whisper said, "Jared! Cece! What have I said about gossiping about customers?"

"Do it in the back where they can't hear us," they said in unison.

"Exactly."

Two servers came around the machine and the male jolted at the sight of Kai grinning right at him.

***

Rio

The drive to Salt Lake took two hours. Not too long, but long enough that Rio found out Rake liked to sing Queen songs. All of them, loudly, with the accompanying guitar solos. Cute, but he had to turn the music off after hour one.

He'd let Judge know they were on their way, so they could meet somewhere private. He'd texted back an address that Rio was pretty sure belonged to Judge's place. They'd find out soon enough.

"So, tell me about your family. You said your dad works for Corsetti?"

Rake glanced over and sighed. "Yeah. He thinks he's some big shot mafioso. He's not. He saw The Godfather one too many times. He launders money and fixes the books. Some of the books, not all." Rake shook his head. "He had me in training by the time I could walk. I could throw a punch before I could talk. He wanted me to win money, and maybe make a name Corsetti'd want to know."

"And your mother? You said she left you with your dad."

Rake nodded. "I don't remember her. I have a picture, that's it. Ray said she was a showgirl, but I think he was being generous."

It took Rio a few seconds to work out what Rake meant. "She was a..." he trailed off.

"Prostitute. Most likely."

Rio nodded. "Any other family?"

"A couple of cousins and an uncle or two. I only met them a handful of times. I have my manager and Hunter, and a few other casual friends. That's it." Rake shifted in his seat to see Rio's profile. "Tell me. How on earth are you friends with a US Marshal?"

Rio chuckled at the incredulous tone of Rake's question. "Judge is my sort-of-not-legal stepbrother." He glanced over at Rake, who raised his brows in question. "His father is in the same traveling hippie commune as my mother."

Rake's expression cleared. "Ah, so they"—he made a circle with his fingers and inserted his index finger—"bump it?"

He cleared his throat. "Thank you for that imagery, but yes."

Rake grinned. "Sorry. That's cool. And you trust him?"

"I do. He's loyal, and probably the most honest person I've ever met. He can come off as an ass, but he doesn't mean it that way. He just says whatever he's thinking."

"What's his full name?"

"Jericho Alvarado."

Rake paused and shook his head, eyes out the window.

"What is it?" Rio took his hand and linked their fingers.

"Will he be able to do anything against Corsetti?"

"I hope so, but if not, he has a boss and he'll know who to talk to."

Rake squeezed his hand. "Okay. Thank you for doing this. I know you said you'd help even if we weren't dating or whatever we're doing, but I really appreciate this even though we just met. You're a good person, Rio Danvers."

"I'm glad I can help."

He pulled into a gated condo complex and parked in the numbered spot associated with Judge's apartment. They got out and followed the walkway around to the foyer entrance. Rio pushed the elevator button and the doors slid open. Rio stepped in and hit three for Judge's floor, and the elevator rose without a hitch. No front-door security, but the place was nice. The doors opened to a hallway with laminate floors and framed portraits on the walls, of generic beaches. They must have figured people got enough of mountains and deserts in Utah.

Rio knocked on Judge's door. No sounds came from within, but the door flew open and he was engulfed in his friend's arms.

"Ha ha! Rio, you elusive son of a bitch! Where the hell have you been?"

"At home. Where else?" Rio slapped Judge on the back and disentangled himself. "It's good to see you. Judge, this is Rafael da Silva. He goes by Rake."

They shook. "Nice to meet you," Rake said.

"You too. Come in. Want a beer?"

"Sure, thanks."

"Rio?"

"Water." Having never been to this new condo, Rio was curious. Several of the pieces he and Fox made sat on light hardwood floors with colorful area rugs. Pictures of friends and family were scattered around, and a flat-screen TV hung on the wall over a black console.

"So, Rake. What sort of trouble are you in?"

Rake stood next to Rio, near the breakfast bar, as Judge set their drinks in front of them. He looked the same as the last time Rio had seen him. Taller than him at six two, with hard muscles honed from training and fighting in the Seals. His brown hair was cut short, and he still had that patented, full-lipped, sarcastic grin. His eyes made Rio pause. The usual mischievous twinkle wasn't there.

"How did you know I was in trouble?" Rake asked.

Judge slid his gaze to Rio and winked. "Rio wouldn't have brought you here so suddenly if you weren't."

"Well, uh, it's a long story, but the short version is I'm running from Damian Corsetti. He's trying to blackmail me into working for him." Rake ran nervous fingers through his hair.

Judge crossed his arms and scowled. "Corsetti? I've heard of him. He's a mob boss in Vegas. Blackmailed with what?"

"Maybe blackmailed isn't the right word. Extorting or whatever it's called. He wants a sixty-five percent cut of my fight winnings." He twisted his bottle around and around. "My father works for him, and he'll hurt or kill my best friend if I fight back. And he's going to come after me if I don't pay him."

Judge stared at Rake. "Are you willing to testify against your father if it comes to that?"

Chapter 14

Rio

Rake's jaw tightened at Judge's question, and Rio put a hand on his arm. "He gave me over to Corsetti without a thought."

Judge nodded and his eyes flicked to Rio's hand. "You're a boxer. You know any other moves?"

Rake blinked. "Yeah, I've trained in MMA. Why?"

"A good fighter knows the importance of mixing things up. You won the welterweight, so you're good. Let me guess, Corsetti didn't approach you until after you won your first championship?"

"That's right. How did you know?"

"Because you said blackmail. Maybe you didn't mean it in the traditional sense, but he's using your newfound fame and fortune to control you. Or trying to anyway. So, in a way, it is blackmail. He's essentially saying, 'Do this for me or I'll ruin you.' "

"Right. That's what I meant," Rake said with a puzzled frown.

Rio hid a smile at Rake's stunned expression. Judge was intense on a good day.

"Let's sit and let me think. Rio, how's Fox doing? And those troublemakers you call sisters?"

Rio chuckled. "Everyone's good. Grandad has recovered from his stroke."

"I'm glad to hear it."

Bewildered, Rake asked, "Fox had a stroke?"

"Yes, about seven months ago."

"I'm sorry to hear that." Rake squeezed his knee. "He seems pretty spry."

Nodding his thanks, he ran his palm over the back of Rake's hair. "He won't slow down."

"Never," Judge said with a laugh.

Rake turned to Judge, who sat in the leather-and-wood chair Rio had made. "How did you know I'd won the welterweight, and that it was new for me?"

"Rio told me your name. I did some basic research before you got here."

Rake nodded. "So, what are my options?"

"I'd have to talk to my boss and probably the District Attorney's office in Vegas, but we could go a few ways. Wire you and get as much on Corsetti as possible." Rio's heart plummeted at Judge's words, and Rake's frown deepened. "Witness Protection," Judge continued. "Or you go home, and we run surveillance and see what he does to come after you, and hope we get something on him."

Putting him, and everyone near him, in danger.

"None of those are good options," Rake said.

Judge turned solemn eyes on Rake, and said, "You're pretty much screwed. Unless Corsetti does something majorly dumb to get arrested."

Rake jumped up and began to pace, and Judge glanced over at Rio. He could guess Judge's thoughts. Rake's presence put Rio in danger, and by extension, his family and friends. A painful knot took root in his stomach. He refused to abandon Rake to his fate. Not to set up Corsetti, or to enter Witness Protection.

Fox had taught him many things. One of the most powerful being how to listen to his instincts and pay attention when the universe tried to speak to him. It said—no, screamed—not to abandon Rake. Why? he asked, closing his eyes to concentrate. Not that I want to, but why him?

No answer came to him, but the knot in his stomach didn't budge.

***

Carter

Carter hauled the ice over his shoulder as he made his way through the crowded bar. As one of the only adult hangouts in Riverbend, Thorns always had a crowd.

He went up the step stool and emptied the bag into the top of the soda machine. From there, he had a view over the tops of everyone's heads, and he zeroed in on Chaze Pullman right away.

He was there again, drinking and flirting with every man in the place. His eyes tracked him like a lion with a gazelle as he led Jack Slade to the restrooms. Carter gritted his teeth. Chaze was smarter than that. People loved nothing more than gossip in this town.

He jumped down, earning a glare from one of his servers, and tried to hurry through the crush of people. He made it in time for the men to disappear into the bathroom.

Carter stepped in and slapped open the swinging door with his large hand. A drunken chuckle came from the handicap stall.

"Chaze, come out here, please."

"What the fuck?" came Slade's voice.

The stall door cracked open an inch, and Chaze's dark eye peeked out. Funny how eyes could be so many different variations of the same color. Chaze and Rio both had the dark brown eyes of their ancestors, but they were nothing alike.

"Carter!" He opened the door wide and stomped out. "Why do you have to keep ruining my fun?"

"Because this isn't a club where you can hook up with random guys in the bathroom."

Slade snorted from behind Chaze. "He's just doing it because of Danvers."

Chaze cut his eyes away from Carter's.

"What the hell do you know about Rio?" Carter crossed his arms and faced Jack as he came out of the stall while zipping his pants. He cracked his knuckles with his thumb. "Oh, that's right, you're a racist asshole. Didn't you know that, Chaze? I'm surprised Jack here is willing to be seen with a guy who isn't white."

"Fuck you, Thorn. I'm not racist."

"Oh, no? So, it's just the Navajo you have a problem with, or is it all Native Americans?"

Carter prepared himself as the wind from Jack's punch flew by his cheek. He twisted and grabbed him by the back of the neck, throwing him to the floor. He landed in a small puddle by the urinal.

Chaze gagged behind him, and he turned in time to watch as Chaze threw up all the beer he'd consumed that night.

He sighed. Fucking Rio. You owe me.

***

Rake

Rake paced off his agitation, but what he wanted was his heavy bag. He needed to punch something. He cracked his knuckles.

"You got a punching bag anywhere around?" he asked Judge.

Judge studied him with a grin. "Yeah, sure. My gym is right down the block."

He gave Rake some athletic clothes and green wrap gloves. As soon as they got there, Rake attacked a bag in the corner of the gym. A few other guys lifted some weights, but otherwise the place was quiet. Judge and Rio talked by the ring while Rake lost himself in the movements and the shock of reverberations in his bones.

The bag was Corsetti's face, and his father's, as he hit it again and again, then used his legs when his arms grew tired. Judge came to hold the bag.

"You want to go a few rounds in the ring?"

Rake stopped and propped his fists on his hips. He inhaled and exhaled a few times to steady himself. "Yeah. You sure you're up for it?"

Judge's smile was feral. "You're not the only fighter here, da Silva."

Rake's inner beast stretched and grinned. "Let's do it."

He guzzled some water before he climbed into the ring after Judge. He shook out his arms while hopping from one foot to the other. Judge stretched his triceps and shoulders and took his stance.

They circled each other. Eyed movement. Gauged distance.

"Straight boxing, or MMA?"

"MMA," Rake said. "We don't have on padded gloves. Don't want to mess up that pretty face more than it already is."

Judge's laugh boomed out and echoed around the room. The men, and a few women Rake hadn't seen, wandered over to watch from weight benches. Rio stood at the ropes with his arms crossed, attention focused on Rake. He either didn't notice or didn't care about the women who sidled closer to him.

Judge made the first move. Rake jerked and blocked his kick with his shin. He gave Judge no time before he kicked with one leg, then the other and backed him into the corner of the ring.

Judge blocked his liver, grunted, and laughed. "Not bad."

He grabbed Rake in a surprise move and took him down to the mat.

Being a boxer, Rake didn't spend a lot of time on his ground game, so he slipped out of Judge's hold and rolled to his feet. They played for a while, not doing any damage. Mostly, Judge let him blow off steam.

Rake collapsed to the ground, spread-eagle.

Judge's shadow fell over him. "You done?"

"Stick a fork in me."

He laughed and held out a hand. Rake grabbed it and Judge hauled him up.

"You've got serious moves, man."

They climbed under the ropes.

"What were you expecting?" Rake asked with a raised brow. He tugged off his gloves and drank the water Rio handed him with a wink.

"Honestly, I'm not sure. Professionals have a lot of rules to follow, so it's not always raw. You know what I mean?"

Rake nodded. "That's why I like to mix it up."

"How do you feel?" Rio asked.

"Good." He leaned in and gave Rio a kiss on the cheek, not a single fuck given about the others in the gym. There hadn't been a moment in the ring he wasn't aware of Rio. His magnetic pull kept Rake centered on him.

He'd cleared his head, but he still had no idea what he wanted to do.

"So," he said as they walked back to the condo. "What now?"

"Now, I talk to my boss, Gannin West."

"Do you want to go home?" Rio asked him.

Rake's heart skipped a beat at Rio's word choice.

Home.

Rio had meant his home in Riverbend, not Vegas. Pensive now, Rake's stomach churned. He didn't want to leave Rio behind with a kiss and a wave. But if he stayed, he'd put Rio in Corsetti's sights. Then it'd be too late. Rake would fight to protect Rio, but fists were no match for guns.

He turned to Judge. "Can I stay here? I've already put Rio in danger."

"Rake—"

"No. You know I have. We talked about this."

Rio's mouth formed a hard line, and he walked ahead and into the building's foyer.

Judge rubbed his chin. "You can stay with me, but are you sure that's what you want?"

Rake whipped around. "Are you serious? You want me to put a target on his back?" He pointed to where Rio had gone.

"No. I don't want Corsetti anywhere near him. But Rio's not a fool, Rake. Make no mistake, he can take care of himself."

"And what about Zorah and Zadie? Fox?"

Judge sighed. "It's up to you. But do me a favor? I can already see how attached Rio is to you. Don't break his heart." He walked ahead, then spun around. "Oh, and don't underestimate Fox Hawkwing, either. That man has connections you wouldn't believe."
Chapter 15

Rio

Rio jabbed at the elevator button as Judge and Rake came into the foyer behind them.

Stubborn fool.

A door marked Authorized Personnel Only opened, and two men walked through. Rio didn't pay them much attention, still annoyed at Rake. Maybe Rake was right, and he was being selfish.

"Rio, move!"

A hand grabbed him, and his muscle memory took over. He struck the assailant with an elbow to the nose, twisted his torso around, and punched the man's liver the way Judge had taught him. The man howled in pain and staggered back, blood pouring down his face from Rio's blow.

Rake pummeled another man, and Judge held a third at gunpoint. Rio hurried to Rake and pried him off.

"Rake! Stop." Rake's knuckles were red, but he was otherwise unharmed. They moved to stand behind Judge.

"What the hell do they want?" Rake asked.

"Sorry, guys," Judge said without further explanation. "Rio, can you call 9-1-1?"

"Yeah." Rio dug out his cell and made the call. Sirens blared not far off thirty seconds later.

The man with the broken nose cursed and glared at them while he tried to stem the flow of blood. The one Rake had beaten moved and groaned as the officers came through the doors with guns drawn.

Judge lifted his hands in the air. "US Marshal Jericho Alvarado."

One officer pointed his gun away from them. "Hey, Judge."

He lowered his arms. "Hey, Steve. How's it going?"

Rio rolled his eyes as Judge started to yammer with the officer as if nothing had happened.

"So, what's going on here?" Steve finally asked.

"Not sure," Judge said. "They might work for Hellstrom."

"You don't think it was about me?" Rake asked.

"I doubt it."

Rake sighed and put a hand on Rio's arm. "You okay?"

"Yeah. You?"

He nodded. "Nice moves over there."

Rio snorted and pivoted on his heel. "I'll be upstairs," he called to Judge, who waved him off.

The other officer, who introduced herself as Officer Cummings, halted him. "Sir, we need your statement first."

They separated them for statements and contact information and then let them go when they were done.

Rake grabbed something from Judge and jogged after Rio. "Hold on! You forgot the keys."

They rode in silence, but Rio took Rake's hands and examined the bruised knuckles. He kissed the swollen flesh. Rake smoothed Rio's cheek with a thumb and set off a kaleidoscope of butterflies in his stomach. They exited the elevator and unlocked Judge's condo.

"So," Rake asked as he shut the door behind them. "Did that count as a second date?"

"Fuck dates." Rio slammed his lips on Rake's. His rules were gone. He'd never felt this all-consuming need for another person before. The heat clawed at his skin, boiled his blood, and raged inside his heart. Rake devoured him, clutched his hips and grinded their cocks together through layers of fabric.

"Bedroom," Rio gasped out. "Clothes off."

"Fuck. Wait." Rake tugged him into the living room.

"What?" He was ready for Rake's cock. So horny, he salivated at the sight of Rake's skin when his borrowed T-shirt rode up.

Rake ran a hand through his hair. "You have those rules for a reason, babe. I don't know what they are, but it doesn't matter. Don't compromise your morals because you're hopped up on adrenaline."

Rio stopped in the middle of the room and crossed his arms while Rake sprawled on the sofa. Rejection didn't sit well, even if Rake said it for him. Still...anger mixed with gratitude in his stomach and made him nauseous. Come to think of it, maybe Rake was right about the adrenaline. "So, you don't want to fuck me?"

Rake turned his head to face him, and the heat that flared in his gray eyes made Rio want to take a step back. He held his ground as Rake's gaze singed his body and landed on the tight bulge in his jeans.

"If you think for one second I don't want to take you into that bedroom, rip your clothes off, and pound you into the mattress, you haven't been paying attention."

He closed the distance to the sofa. Impatient, he sat next to Rake, who slid long fingers into Rio's hair. He massaged his scalp, and Rio's eyes drifted shut as tingles spread down his spine. He breathed in—lungs expanding—and let it out while he counted to five.

Rake pulled Rio's face toward him. "You're so fucking sexy, you're killing me."

"You're the one who decided to be all noble."

Rake growled and nipped at Rio's lips. "I should be sainted."

Rio opened his eyes and grinned at his dazed look. "I still want you, but I appreciate what you said." He leaned in to kiss him and slipped his tongue past Rake's eager lips.

"So, did that count as a second date?"

Rio checked the time. "It will if we go and eat."

***

Rake

He couldn't help but chuckle at Rio's logic. Food counted as a date but pummeling his friend at the gym didn't. He adjusted his legs in the truck to make room for his chubby.

Judge sent an officer to follow them, claiming he didn't trust that those were the only thugs around. Rake had no idea who Hellstrom was or what those men had wanted. He didn't have room for anyone else's trouble at the moment, so he hadn't asked.

Rio didn't drive far for dinner. Slowing down had been one of the hardest things he'd ever done, and his dick hated him for it.

Sorry, buddy. You'll thank me later.

The fantasy of Rio's hot breath on his face as Rake pumped his cock inside his tight ass was so real, Rake squirmed as they pulled into a small parking lot.

"Were you talking to your dick?"

He'd never blushed so hard. "What? No! Shut up. You were."

Rio wore that You're so fucking cute expression again, so Rake scrambled out of the truck.

He didn't bother to check what kind of restaurant Rio chose—he was too busy staring at Rio's ass as they walked in. The smell of fried meat and spices hit him as they stood by the hostess stand. Mexican food. Perfect. They were seated at a high-top table in the bar area. Rake was sweaty, and he still wore Judge's athletic clothes. Would he ever wear his own clothes again?

"Rake?"

Rio's velvet voice snapped him back to reality. The server waited for his drink order.

"Oh, sorry. Water, please."

"You okay?" Rio asked once she was gone.

Rake dipped a chip in queso. "Do you know what that was all about? I saw you talking to Judge as we left." He'd changed his mind. Maybe he should let someone else's problems distract him for a while.

"He said it's an ongoing investigation. A criminal is pissed at him and decided to do something stupid."

"This is just another day for him, huh?"

"I guess. I don't get to see him that often to say for sure."

"How long have you known each other?"

"Seventeen years."

Rake whistled. "And you two were never..."

"What?"

"Attracted to each other?"

Rio paused with a chip halfway to his mouth. Rake tried not to stare at his pink lips as he imagined where they'd go, what they'd do to his body.

"No. Not really. We were just kids when we met, and then he left for the navy at eighteen."

"Tell me what you guys got up to as kids."

As Rio regaled him with fun tales of a childhood spent running wild and free, Rake listened and memorized his face. The sight of his eyes crinkling in the corners when he smiled made Rake wish that he could stare at him for eternity.

"Something's not right with him."

"What do you mean?"

"There's a look in his eyes I've never seen before."

"What kind of look?"

Rio's face shifted as he thought. "Despair."

"Will you talk to him about it?"

"I can try. He's the type that likes to pretend everything's completely fine until things start blowing up in his face." Rio made a face eerily similar to Judge's and said, "Pfft, it's just a little bullet wound. I'll be fine."

Rake gave a dark chuckle. "Well, it sounds like you might have to wait for him to come to you."

Rio sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. "If he ever does, I'll be shocked."

The food arrived, and they ate in silence. Rake had been hungrier than he realized, and he demolished a plate of enchiladas and all the remaining chips and dip. They paid and strolled out of the restaurant to Rio's truck. Rake caught sight of Officer Cummings in her cruiser across the street and waved.

"So, what did you decide to do? Are you staying here or coming home with me?"

Rake groaned. "I have no idea. Out of all those choices Judge gave me, what would you do?"

Rio clicked his seat belt and stuck the key in the ignition but didn't turn the engine over. "I want you to come home with me, but I get that you don't want to bring them to my door. I appreciate that, really, but the thing is you're not even sure anyone's after you. Let them do surveillance and try to gather evidence if they can." He reached over and grabbed Rake's hand. "Stay with me. At least until we know if it's dangerous. Then we can reevaluate." He hesitated before his next words. "If we have to, just to buy the Marshals more time, I can give you the money."

Rake stared at Rio, the man he'd met a few days ago, who was willing to put himself in the crosshairs for him. Him. "Thank you for what you said, but I haven't told you everything." He inhaled deeply. "Ray's in deep with loan sharks, and the thing is, they don't care who pays them, as long as they get their money."

"You've been paying them?"

"Yep."

"What about your winnings from the championship? It's a lot, right?"

"It's a lot. And it will wipe out the remaining debt with them. But it won't be enough for Corsetti. Not after taxes and my manager and trainers get their cuts." Rio's concerned eyes made Rake rush to say, "I doubt paying him will solve anything, but I appreciate the offer. You have no idea." He smiled. "Just hearing you say it makes me feel like I'm not alone."

"Let's go home."

Rio's smile grew, and he sent Judge a text. "Let's go."
Chapter 16

Rio

Once home, Rio flipped on the lights as he opened the front door. Rake had fallen asleep on the drive and had woken with a yawn when the truck stopped. A soft light glowed from the kitchen. He didn't think anything of it, but he stopped when an unwelcome smell reached him. "Cinnamon?"

"Hmm?" Rake nuzzled at the back of his head.

"I smell cinnamon."

Rake moved to his side. "And?"

"I'm allergic to it."

"Oh." Rake frowned and sniffed the air. "That's weird. Let's see where it's coming from."

Rake walked toward the kitchen and flipped on a light. "Rio, run!"

He started at Rake's yell, but he didn't run away. He ran toward Rake with his heart in his throat.

"Now, wait a minute." The voice was carefree, friendly even, but with an underlying edge that made Rio's spine stiffen.

He skidded to a stop, and Rake tried to shove Rio behind him. "Who are you? What are you doing in my house?"

A gun sat snug in a holster at the man's side, but he didn't reach for it. He sat on a stool, with a takeout cup of coffee. That was where the smell came from.

"I'm allergic—"

"To cinnamon. I heard you." The man walked over to the sink and poured the coffee down the drain and rinsed it out. "Better?"

"Yes, thanks. Now answer my question."

He turned and leaned against the sink with his arms crossed over his chest. "I'm a PI. My name is James Kairo. I was sent to find you by Damian Corsetti."

"Shit." Rake fell back a step and took Rio's hand. "Get out of here, Rio!"

"No."

"Goddammit!" He put himself in front of Rio and tried to block him from the PI's sight.

Rio studied Kairo as he, in turn, studied Rake. The same height as Rake, he had solid muscles, though he wasn't as ripped as Rake. His shaggy brown hair fell into his eyes, and he whipped his head to the side to move it. He had on a blue Hawaiian shirt, worn jeans, and—Rio looked at his feet—flip-flops.

"Rake, relax. Listen to what he says." He stepped around Rake to stand at his side.

Rake glanced over with a beetled brow. His instincts likely told him to run, but Rio's were calm. This man wasn't a threat. No matter how big his gun.

"Thanks." Kairo nodded with a small wink and gave Rio a slow, deliberate once-over and a smirk.

Rake rolled his shoulders and stepped forward, but Rio kept hold of him. "Why don't we sit?"

Rake put himself between Rio and Kairo, and Rio let him. Rake chose a seat at the far end of the kitchen table, while Kairo sat in the chair closest to the nearest exit.

"I can make some coffee, since you had to dump yours."

"I'd appreciate that. Thank you, gorgeous."

"He's not your 'gorgeous.' "

That lethal stare aimed to protect Rio made his dick twitch.

"As far as I can tell, he isn't yours either. You've only known him, what, two or three days? When did you get here?"

"Fuck you. That's when."

Kairo chuckled and a dimple showed in his left cheek. This aggressive Rake was new. He wasn't sure how to take it, but his libido decided it was hot. Go figure. He stood and walked over to make a pot of coffee. He also grabbed a couple of bottles of water and a plate one of his family members had made. He peeked under the tinfoil. Cheese and Vienna sausages.

He set it out, grabbed the cream and sugar, three mugs, and carried it all over as the fast-brew pot sputtered to a stop. He glanced at the table. They both sat with their arms crossed, but Kairo only had eyes for Rio.

"Why didn't you run?" Kairo asked.

"Huh?" Rio glanced over. Kairo was so close, the dark ring around his green irises was visible.

"Why didn't you run when he told you to?" Kairo nodded at Rake without taking his eyes off Rio.

"Well, first, because I wasn't about to abandon him, and second, once I saw you, I didn't get a dangerous vibe."

"Vibe?" He chuckled. "Really?"

"Yes, really." Also, he'd been around firearms his whole life, and that one was fake. He didn't say it out loud. He didn't want to back Kairo into a corner.

"I like that."

"How did you find me?" Rake broke into their conversation. Rio poured the coffee and distributed the cups.

"Easy. You didn't turn off your phone."

"What?" Rake's mouth sagged open. "Shit. Is that a real thing?"

Rio shrugged when Rake glanced at him. He barely used his phone.

"Oh, it's real. If you know who to go to."

Rake took his phone out of his pocket and shut it off. He threw it on the table and ran both hands over his face. "So? Now what? You found me. Are you going to take me to Corsetti?" He dropped his hands and glared at Kairo. Clearly, he wouldn't go without a fight.

"I don't know yet." He drank some coffee and looked out into the inky night through the patio doors. Rio followed his gaze and saw the studio lights were on. Shit. Someone's here.

He must have made a noise, because Rake's hand smoothed over his forearm. He smiled into Rake's eyes. Having him stay was Rio's new number one priority. For Rake, he'd be calm and sturdy.

Kairo's sigh brought their eyes back to him. "You shouldn't have run, Rake."

"Fuck you," Rake said. "You don't know what he wants me to do."

"I can guess," he said in a serious tone. "Look," Kairo leaned forward, "I don't want to take you to him. I have to."

Rio straightened his spine. "He's forcing you too?"

Wary, Kairo's eyes shuttered and he pressed his lips together. "I can't get into it."

"I have a friend. He's a US Marshal. He can help you."

Kairo snorted. "Yeah, right. The only people they want to help are themselves. Oh, sure, they start out all nice as pie, but as soon as it looks like their case might be in jeopardy, or their career, they write you off to fend for yourself."

Rio faltered, stunned at the outburst. Rake glanced at him with wide eyes.

"Okay, well, this one won't," Rio said. "He's going to help Rake as much as he can. If they get Corsetti, it will help you too, so it's probably in your best interest to cooperate."

Kairo now had inside information and a chance to warn Corsetti, but Rio's gut told him he was trustworthy. Kai's eyes screamed how badly he wanted to leave Rake alone.

Calmer, Rake asked, "What does he have on you?"

Kairo scowled. "None of your business."

"Fair enough."

Rio took his own phone out of his back pocket. "I'm calling Judge."

"No. Hey." Kairo made a move toward his gun, and Rake's hand shot out so fast that it blurred in the corner of Rio's eye.

"Don't you fucking move," Rake growled. He gripped Kairo's arm, and he winced and tried to pull away. Rake kept his hold.

Rio left the room to make the call. "Judge," he said when the line opened. "I have to tell you something."

"This isn't Judge."

"What? Where is he?"

"Is this Rio Danvers?"

"Yes. I was just there talking to him about my friend."

"Yes, I have that information."

"Who are you?"

"I'm Gannin West. Alvarado's boss."

"Why are you answering his cell?"

"He's missing."

Rio's heart jumped into his throat. "What? But...we were just with him."

"It seems he disappeared shortly after you left."

"Oh, God. Does it have to do with those men who jumped us?" He ran a hand over his mouth.

"We don't have information yet. I can't get into it now. Listen, I know you're worried about da Silva, I'm going to start looking into Corsetti."

"Well, something's come up. That's why I called." Rio rubbed his chest. Rake's hand landed on his neck and he leaned into it. His knees wobbled, and Rake pulled him to the sofa where he collapsed.

"We have information on Corsetti, but there are some people I need to coordinate with before we can do anything. This isn't going to be solved overnight."

"No, we know that. It's just that when we got home, a man was here."

"What?" West barked. "Who?"

"He's a PI. Corsetti sent him to find Rake. He's in my kitchen."

"Actually, he's right here."

"Was that him?" West asked.

"Yes, sir."

"Let me speak to him."

Rio held the phone out, and Kairo took it with a frown. He walked off and Rio didn't listen.

Rake kissed his temple. "What is it, Rio? You're scaring me. Hell, you even scared Kairo."

"Judge is gone," Rio croaked. "He's missing, I mean."

Stunned, Rake asked, "Was it those assholes that jumped us?"

"I don't know. His boss wouldn't tell me."

"Oh, babe. I'm so damn sorry." He kissed his shoulder.

He shook his head and held on to Rake's hand. "He's okay. Judge has been through a lot worse than anything those idiots could do to him."

"I believe you."

The conviction in Rake's voice settled some of Rio's worry.

"You do?"

"Yes. He wiped the floor with me in that ring, and that's no easy feat."

It made Rio smile a little. "You did look wiped."

"Hey, now." He nudged him with his shoulder. "I held my own pretty well."

Rio relaxed into Rake's arms. His family needed to be told. Rio checked the time. Two a.m. He'd tell them in the morning. "You're the one that said it—"

Rake's kiss cut off the rest. "I know," he whispered. "I like being right."

Rio let himself sink into Rake's kiss until a cough broke them apart.

Kairo fidgeted with the phone and scowled. "Well, West was convincing. He's asked me to go to Salt Lake and talk to him."

They stood and faced him.

"And Corsetti?" Rake asked, muscles tense.

Kairo gave an apologetic grimace. "I haven't told him where you are."

Rio took the phone. "I think we can trust him."

Rake gave him a resigned smile. "Really?"

"Yes. My instincts rarely steer me wrong." He dismissed thoughts about the last time they'd done exactly that. This was different.

"I'll leave first thing in the morning," Kairo said.

"You can have the guest room." Rio moved ahead, and Rake caught his arm.

"Whoa. Wait. What's wrong with a hotel?"

Kairo looked between them. "It's fine. I can go to The Bluebird."

Rio frowned. "It's no problem. People use that room all the time."

Rake blew out an exasperated sigh. "Rio!"

He looked at Kairo, then Rake, and leaned in. "We want him on our side, so be nice to him."

Rake licked his lips and stared at Rio's mouth while his pupils expanded. "Yeah, okay. Whatever. But I'm not being quiet."

Kairo laughed and tried to cover it with a cough. "Thanks. I appreciate it. You won't even know I'm here."

Rio made sure the house was locked this time. The lights in the studio had gone out. Whoever had been there had left. He showed Kairo his room while Rake went ahead to the master bedroom.

"You're a, uh...an interesting man, Rio. Anyone else would've kicked up a fuss, tossed me out, or called the cops." He scratched the back of his head with a sheepish smile.

Rio handed him a stack of fresh towels from the linen closet. "I believe in giving people the benefit of the doubt before I condemn them." He held on when Kairo grabbed the towels and caught his eyes. "I don't trust blindly, but I'm a good judge of character. And I think you want to do the right thing here, James. If not," he shrugged a shoulder, "you'll find out how interesting I can be when I make you wish you'd never come to Riverbend."

Kairo held his stare for several tense seconds before he relaxed into a flirtatious grin. "So, you and the knuckle-bruiser, huh?"

"Yes." Rio restrained an eye roll and headed for the door.

"Any chance I could convince you—"

"Nope." Rio cut him off and shut the door on his snort of laughter.
Chapter 17

Rake

Rake stripped on the way to the bathroom and took a quick shower. He didn't want to leave Rio alone with that PI, but he'd built up a sweat sparring with Judge and he stank. His stomach twisted as he thought of the tall man with the booming laugh, but he agreed with Rio. Judge could handle what came his way.

He swiped a towel over the major areas and held it close as he hurried out to the bedroom. He stopped short and gasped at the sight of Rio, naked and sprawled on the king-sized bed.

"Sweet Mary, Mother of God. Give a man a heart attack." The towel fell to the floor as he reached for his cock and squeezed. "All the blood in my body just went straight to my dick."

Rio chuckled and stroked his own hard-on while eyeing Rake's. "Are you going to stand there all night?"

"Give me a minute." He refused to rush through this first time. The most beautiful man he'd ever seen lay spread out before him like a banquet, and he wanted to savor every second. His bronzed torso reflected the low light, hairless except for a thin trail down his belly.

Rio bent long legs dusted in dark hair and showed Rake the path all the way to glory. His ass cheeks were tan due to his heritage, but the lighter skin of his balls and hole exposed his vulnerable side.

Rake squinted. "Is that lube?"

"I got ready when you were in the shower."

He growled, grabbed the condom, and rolled it on while he knee-walked over the mattress. He almost fell, but he made it to Rio.

"I wanted to eat you out first."

"You can do it later. I want your cock inside me. It's all I can think about."

Rake sucked his bottom lip between his teeth. "I want that too."

He stretched out over Rio's body, and they both hummed as their skin connected. There were no words for what the feel of Rio's naked body did to Rake. Rio was warm and real.

This thing between them grew with every passing hour. Rake found himself searching for Rio's hand, when he'd always been alone. He wanted to see Rio's expression after he told a joke, when he'd never given a fuck about anyone else's opinion. He wanted to smell the fresh-cut wood on Rio's hands after he worked all day, taste the coffee on Rio's tongue in the mornings, and slide into bed beside him at night.

Rio's scent surrounded Rake as he massaged Rio's thigh and let his hand drift toward the wet and ready hole. Rio squirmed as he fingered the outer edge. One digit, then another went in without much resistance. Oh yeah. He was ready. He pumped a few times and thrust in up to the knuckle.

Rio threw his head back and groaned. "Rake, come on. Inside."

"I am. I promise." He kissed Rio's flushed cheek, his neck, and glided his lips along smooth skin to his firm chest. He sucked on a nipple while he searched for Rio's prostate with his middle finger, bombarding him with sensations.

"Fuck! Right there. Yesss," he hissed.

Rake milked it for a few seconds and withdrew. He shifted his hips and made sure his cock dragged along Rio's balls before he gripped the shaft and directed it to the slick hole waiting to be filled. Rio bore down as soon as Rake's head met his skin and popped inside.

Heat.

Pressure.

Rio.

Rake stilled inside Rio's tight channel. He wanted to tell Rio how good it felt, but his breath stuttered and backed up in his lungs, so he groaned instead. He shoved forward until he was balls deep and stopped to savor the feeling. Rio panted as he stared up at him. Rake lowered his head to kiss Rio and pushed his tongue in as deep as he could. He wanted to fill every empty space of Rio and stay there forever.

Fuck Corsetti.

Fuck the real world.

This was everything he needed.

"What is it?" Rio shifted and wrapped one leg over his. "You're staring at me."

Rake pumped his hips and made Rio gasp.

"I can't help it. This is so surreal."

Shallow thrusts made Rio chase his cock. Right when his muscles coiled as if to take over, Rake slammed in hard.

"Oh, fuck!" Rio clamped down with his hole and his fingers as if afraid he'd leave.

"I'm not going anywhere, babe." Rake laughed at Rio's grunt. He mixed it up, so he wouldn't come too soon and end the fun. Slow and steady, then fast and hard. He favored a deep, grinding thrust. He wanted to crawl inside Rio's skin and never leave.

Don't be weird, he chided himself.

Rio gripped his shoulder. "Flip over."

Rake pulled away, though it nearly killed him to do it, and Rio was quick to climb on top of him. Rio spread his knees wide, grabbed Rake's cock and aligned it with his ass. He pushed down and began to bounce.

"Fuck!" Rake dug his heels into the mattress to stay still. The sight of his dick disappearing inside Rio's body brought him to the edge. He had to hold on. At least until Rio was ready to come.

"Rake," Rio ground out through clenched teeth. He moved until he propped his hands on Rake's knees. He shouted and groaned, and Rake knew he was hitting that magical spot deep within him. He took over and pounded into Rio's body, pushing him hard until he screamed and fell into orgasm.

Rake grabbed him as he slumped and held him still as he fucked in quick staccato bursts and came inside Rio.

"Yes! Oh, fuck, baby. So good."

He laid Rio on a pillow and collapsed beside him. Rio searched for his hand and laced their fingers together. Rake had every intention of getting up to toss the condom, but sleep claimed him before he could finish the thought.
Chapter 18

Rio

The smell of bacon and coffee woke him the next morning. Rake's sleeping face made him smile. So fucking adorable with his slack jaw and fluttering eyelids. One arm locked around his waist and a leg in between his. Impossible to move and not wake him, but he had to pee. Rake blinked and a smile spread across his face.

Rio hummed before he kissed Rake. "Morning."

"Good morning, beautiful."

Okay, that did it. His heart fucking melted. "Damn."

"What?" Alarm filled Rake's eyes.

"I can't believe how sexy you are right now."

Rake snorted and stretched all those muscles while Rio went to the bathroom.

"Bedhead and morning breath are hot?" he called out, making Rio laugh. "Hey, did you clean me?"

"Yeah. You passed out."

"Aww, thank you."

After he dressed, and a kiss and a squeeze from Rake, Rio went to the kitchen where Kairo stood at the counter. He wore what Rio could only assume was an apron brought over at some point by one of his family members. Bacon sizzled in the cast iron skillet on the stove as Rio helped himself to some coffee with a splash of cream.

"How do you like your eggs?" Kairo turned and smiled with a spatula in his hand.

"Scrambled. You didn't have to do this."

"I like cooking. I eat way too much fast food on the job."

Rio stepped to the fridge, grabbed some cheddar cheese, and began to grate it on the wood block cutting board.

"Are you headed out after breakfast?"

"Yeah. I'm supposed to meet Westley at eleven."

"West."

"Whatever."

Rio shook his head. "Will you let him help you?"

"I don't trust cops." As he talked, Kairo pulled a pan of biscuits out of the oven. "But I don't think I have much of a choice here. I'm not willing to hand da Silva over to Corsetti. And running and hiding for the rest of my life, or his, isn't really my style. I'm way too lazy to be moving and changing my identity all the damn time. So, it's this or nothing."

"That seems...very logical. But why don't you want to hand him over? You don't know him."

"Because I don't like bullies, and that's all Corsetti narrows down to. A bully with muscle and money backing him. Rake didn't do anything to deserve this."

"Well, thank you."

He chuckled and poured beaten eggs in the now empty bacon pan. "You're welcome, but I'm pretty sure you gave all your appreciation to him last night."

Rio smirked. "Not all of it. I have a lot left."

Rake walked into the kitchen, showered and dressed in more of Rio's clothes, which he secretly loved.

"I can't wait for more," Rake said with a lecherous grin.

He slid behind Rio and maneuvered around to fill a cup with coffee while holding him against the counter with his hips. A shiver racked his spine when Rake pressed a kiss to the nape of his neck.

"I told you I wasn't going to be quiet."

Kairo laughed as he dumped the cheese into the pan and stirred. "This is ready."

Rio grabbed the utensils and Rake helped carry food over to the kitchen table. They concentrated on filling plates and eating instead of talking. Rake's thousand-yard stare worried him, but he left him to his thoughts until he was ready to share.

Apparently, they both had demons to fight when it came to relationships of any kind.

"I have to go and talk to my family about Judge." He took his plate to the sink and started to rinse dishes and stack the dishwasher.

"Who's Judge?" Kairo asked.

"He's family."

"Oh. That's what upset you last night? Well, I hope he's okay."

"Thank you. Rake, do you want to come with me?"

Rake didn't look at him as he picked at his remaining eggs. "You mean, meet your dad?"

Rio stilled and considered Rake's question. "Yes. And Grandma probably."

Rake's hesitancy twisted like a thorn in his stomach. The longer Rake remained silent, the worse it hurt.

This is why I don't get so involved. Dammit.

"I guess I'll head out." Kairo glanced between them with pursed his lips. "I'll let you guys know what happens in Salt Lake."

"Thanks, James." He held out a hand. "Take care."

They shook, and Kairo left after a long look at Rake. Silence filled the room as Rake avoided eye contact.

Rio paused and wiped his hands on a dish towel. "So, what's going on? You've already met half my family."

"I don't know." Rake sighed and stood to pace. "Parents are different." He pressed his lips into a thin line.

"And you're not ready for that?" Rio pushed off the counter.

"The last few days were crazy and...last night was incredible." He grew quiet. "I admit I've started to have feelings for you, but—"

Rio stiffened. "That's fine. You can hang out here. I'll be back shortly," he called over his shoulder.

He needed out of the house. He walked to the studio first to check that everything was as it should be and noticed his grandad's artwork on the barn doors. He ran his hand over the bear and smiled. Fox always had a fascination with bears. He said it was his spirit animal. The bear was strong and stubborn. A fearless leader and protector of its territory. He often told Rio stories of the Great Spirit who wandered the earth in the shape of a bear. He'd welcome Grandad's wisdom right about then.

What to do about Rake? Too soon for commitments, but they were on the same page. Weren't they? And last night had been unbelievable. But sex was sex, not love.

Christ, was Rio doomed to walk the same path again?

Love? Rio didn't believe in lasting love. Look at his grandparents. They were still together, but their love had changed over the years. They'd separated, fought, and almost divorced twice. Was that love or was it like the bear, stubborn and unwilling to admit defeat?

Chaze's words rose from his recent memory. "You'll never give up your heart." He flattened his hand over his chest. Maybe he already had. But would it be enough?
Chapter 19

Rake

Rio's truck disappeared down the mountain into town, and he kicked at a rock. Fuck! Why am I such an asshole?

Rio didn't deserve that shit, not after last night. If he wasn't careful, he'd be one of those guys who jetted after he got some ass. Sure, he played the field, but the guys always knew the score beforehand. Rio was different. Had been since Rake laid eyes on him. And that scared the ever-loving shit out of him.

Life was too uncertain right now. He couldn't ask Rio to follow him. What if he ended up in Witness Protection? He wouldn't ask Rio to abandon his family. What if they got together and Corsetti killed Rio or someone he loved? They'd never forgive Rake.

He'd never forgive himself.

Rake grabbed his toiletry bag from the bathroom. His duffle was still in his car. That was it. His mark on Rio's home was a small zippered pouch.

Once outside, he closed the door behind him. He flipped his keys around his finger and considered his actions. Should he leave a note? Rio might worry Corsetti kidnapped him, or worse. He turned to go back inside the house.

"Gah! Fox. Shit. You scared me!"

"Going somewhere, son?" Fox stood silent as a statue and just as sturdy in jeans and a plaid shirt. His hair was tied in a low ponytail.

Rake braced his hands on his knees as he caught his breath. "I was just..."

"Skulking off?"

"Hey!" He snapped upright. "You don't know what I'm facing. I'm putting Rio in danger by being here." Shit, I probably shouldn't have told him that.

Fox eyed him with a furrowed brow. "Does he know that?"

"Yes, of course."

"Then it's his decision." He frowned at Rake. "Don't go trying to do things behind his back with the excuse, 'It's for his own good.' Believe me, it doesn't help."

Rake looked away. "I don't know what to do. I can't sit here waiting for danger to find us."

"Nobody's asking you to." Fox closed the distance between them and put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. "Why don't you tell me what's going on, and we'll go from there?"

***

Rio

Rio walked into his childhood home without knocking. The place never changed. Consistent, that was his dad. When their mom took off, returned, and took off again, Aaron kept the ship on course. The same herbs and vegetables grew in the garden in the yard. The same artwork made by them as kids and his grandma, Ava, hung on the walls. Their bedrooms had been untouched even though all of them lived within twenty minutes of the house. Aaron had always been there for his kids, no matter how angry and rebellious Rio had been, or how wild Zadie got.

Grandma didn't live there. She and Fox lived out toward the edge of town, but she was always there, weeding and cooking and whatever else needed to be done.

She stood at the stove and stirred something in a crockpot.

"Smells good." He kissed her velvety cheek.

"Oh, River. Your grandfather tells me you have a new man."

Rio tried to smile but ended with more of a grimace.

She pushed her glasses down to her nose. "Oh, dear. Is that how it is?"

"There's something else I need to tell you all. Is Dad here?"

"Yes, he's in his workroom."

Rio went to the basement where his dad tied fishing lures. He'd retired a few months ago when it was clear Fox and Ava needed help after his stroke.

"Dad! Can you come up here?"

A garbled yell floated up the stairs, and as he and Ava settled in the living room, his dad came in.

"Hi, son." Aaron Danvers stood average height, with receding brown hair and a spare tire around his middle. Rio's mother, Evangeline, was the exact opposite in every way: tall and slim with Ava's blonde hair and Fox's dark eyes.

Aaron's eyes and kind heart caught Evangeline's eye all those years ago. She often waxed poetic about his gorgeous blue eyes. She'd picked him to help raise her kids because she knew once he'd met infant Rio, and she became pregnant with the twins, he'd never abandon them. Some would say she used him, others that she'd done the best thing for her kids.

"Hey, Dad. I've got some bad news. Judge is in trouble. His boss talked to me last night. He's disappeared."

After revealing the little bit of information he had to his worried family, they decided Aaron would get in touch with their mom and Judge's dad, Ned, if he could find them.

"Dad, you mind if we talk some more?"

"Of course not. Come on, I'll show you my jigs."

Rio followed him to the basement where he made the appropriate noises of appreciation at the hooks and feathers.

"You look heartsick." Aaron sat on a stool in front of a long counter with scattered paraphernalia and several desk lamps turned on. An old TV Rio remembered from childhood played a baseball game in the corner.

"How'd you guess?"

"I know your face, and I've only ever seen you look this way when Makay left."

Rio evaded his father's eyes and stared at the TV. He hated to think about Makay. The one man he'd given his heart to and he'd stomped it flat and kicked it into the dirt.

"I don't know what this is. We haven't made any promises. He's told me several times now that he can't stay in town long. But I..."

"What?" Aaron leaned forward.

"I don't want to let him go."

Aaron sighed and gestured for Rio to sit beside him. Rio obeyed and waited for his father to speak.

"Sometimes the only thing you can do is let them go."

Rio gave his father a sad, understanding smile.

"I don't know what's going on with this man, but I do know your mother. Do you think for one minute, if I'd put my foot down and asked her to stay, she would have been happy?"

"No."

"No." He sighed. "She would have been miserable, and she'd have made the rest of us pay. Not intentionally, of course, but her unhappiness would have bled over into her parenting skills and our relationship."

"I wish you'd meet someone new, Dad." His father didn't pine for Evangeline, not anymore, but he'd never had much of a dating life, either.

"Well, you know how it is with small towns, not many fish in the barrel, so to speak." Aaron flicked one of the lures. "Listen, son. If this guy needs to go, then let him go. Make sure he knows how you feel first, and if you want him to come back or not. Otherwise, you might regret it."

"I don't know exactly what I want either, though. After Makay..." He stopped and swallowed. "After him, it's hard to open up. You know?"

"It's understandable, but if you want this new guy, you're going to have to go all in, don't do it half-assed."

Rio laughed. His dad rarely cursed. "You're right. Thanks, Dad."

"You're welcome."

***

Rake

Fox listened without interruption while Rake talked. He told him everything. From his fucked-up childhood to his best friend, Hunter, and his career, all the way to why he ran and when he'd met Rio.

"And now, I don't know what I'm doing. Rio is so amazing. I've never met anyone like him before, but I can't be in a relationship. I don't know how. And I could be on the first bus out of here, ticket paid for by Uncle Sam. Or I could end up murdered at the hands of Corsetti's thugs. I don't want Rio to go through any of that."

They stopped walking, and Rake took in their surroundings for the first time. He marveled at the gorgeous view of hills, the red desert in the distance, and the small town not too far below. "Wow. This is incredible." A few puffy clouds broke the endless blue of the sky, and a breeze blew fresh air. A rare occurrence in Vegas.

"It is. My people have been on this land for centuries." Fox's dark eyes were fathomless pools of hard-earned wisdom. "People are all the same. In every culture, relationships and love are strange and wonderful things. People will do whatever it takes to be loved, even if it means letting it go. And it comes in many forms. All you have to do is open your heart and accept help."

A thought niggled at the back of Rake's mind at those words, like déjà vu. "Well, Judge was—is going to help, but he's uhh...he's missing." Rake winced, not sure if he was the right one to tell Fox that.

Fox nodded.

Rake blinked. "Wait, you already know? How?"

"I have my ways."

Rake pursed his lips as he studied the old man. "You have friends that know Judge in Salt Lake who told you." Now Judge's words about the old man made sense.

Fox side-eyed him. "Don't tell my grandkids. I'll lose all my cred with them."

Rake laughed. "My lips are sealed." His smile fell. "His boss said he's going to help, but I don't know what to do. Should I go undercover? Stay and hope they pin something on him before he finds me? Go into hiding until they do?"

"Well, I can't say I like having my grandson in danger, but if you leave, you'll be alone. If you stay, you'll have him and me and everyone in our family on your side."

"I appreciate that, more than you know—and don't take this the wrong way—but I don't think Zadie and Zorah would be of much help."

Fox waved his hand. "Don't underestimate them. Especially Zadie, she'll light a fire under your ass."

Rake chuckled and they turned to walk to the house.

"Life is short, Rake. You should spend it with the ones you love."

Rake sucked in a breath. "Love? I just met him."

"I didn't say his name, but I will say there is no timeline for falling for someone. I've been with my wife for fifty years, and we married after three dates."

"Wow, that's incredible."

"It was hard sometimes, but worth it."

Fox's words stayed with him all the way back to Rio's home.

Chapter 20

Rio

He pulled into his driveway and killed the engine. The doors to the studio were open, and as he stepped out of the truck, the Rolling Stones sang "Give Me Shelter" from the stereo in the studio, which meant Zorah was there. The smell of the charcoal grill drifted on the air. Carter must have come over with fresh ground meat.

Rio stood with his eyes closed, taking it all in, somehow knowing Rake was still there and safe. He smiled as he opened his eyes and walked around to the rear of the house. Everyone was gathered on the patio furniture with drinks and watching Rake, laughing as he spoke.

Rio guessed from the way Rake's hands waved around, he was telling them about one of his fights. Zadie sat with her knees tucked up beside her girlfriend, Jen. She'd always made Rio think of a pixie, with her long, curly red hair and a button nose. Zorah and David sat on the porch swing. David, sports nut that he was, leaned forward, enraptured by Rake's story.

Fox stood talking with Carter at the grill and spotted Rio and sent him a wink. Rio nodded to tell him he was okay and walked over to sit beside Rake.

He stopped midsentence and grinned. "Hi, there."

"Hi," he said and gave him a quick kiss.

They stared into each other's eyes. Each tried to read the other's minds.

"You guys are going to ruin my dinner." Zadie took a healthy swallow of daiquiri. "Too lovey-dovey."

Rio picked a stray piece of bread from someone's plate and lobbed it at her head. She ducked and stuck out her tongue. Jen laughed and picked it from her shirt.

Rake chuckled. "Have you eaten?"

Rio shook his head and kissed him again before he stood and grabbed a plate and bun.

As he doctored his burger, Carter gave him a long look. "You okay?"

"Worried about Judge. And Rake."

"Fox gave me a condensed version. What can I do to help?"

Smiling, Rio said, "Thanks, man. I'll let you know. How are you? What's been going on?"

"Eh, the usual. Work's been crazy, so I haven't had much downtime. This is nice, though. Being here. You know how my family is."

He nodded. "No time for fun."

Carter pointed the spatula at him. "Exactly."

"That's it? Nothing else you want to tell me?"

Carter set his spatula down with a frown. "Who told you?"

"Chaze texted me. A drunk text. Said you creamed Jack Slade in the bathroom at Thorns for talking shit about me."

Carter shrugged. "He was drunk and fell."

He shook his head at the lie. "Thanks. You're a good friend."

After everyone was seated with fresh drinks, Rio called for their attention. "You might have all heard already, but Judge is missing." Nods all around. "Dad is going to try and find Mom and Ned."

"Any idea where they are?" Zadie asked. She'd always had trouble with their mother's absence, more so than Rio and Zorah.

Rio shook his head. "Last time we got a call, they were in San Francisco."

"He's smart. He'll be okay," Zorah said. Her husband wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

Fox appeared at Rake's elbow. "More importantly, he's clever."

"Jesus! Make some noise next time," Rake said with a hand to his chest.

Laughter broke the tension in the group.

Rio placed his hand on Rake's thigh, and he grabbed it to link their fingers together. He wasn't done eating, but he didn't care. He loved that Rake got along with his family. They were important to him, after all. If he hadn't...well, Rio didn't like to think about what ifs. They liked Rake, and that was it.

As people either went home or drifted into the studio, Rake tugged Rio into the bedroom and closed the door. "I'm sorry about before. I hope I can still meet your dad and grandma."

"It's okay. There's no reason we have to move at lightning speed here. I got my feelings bruised a little, but I'm fine."

Rake stared into his eyes. "Except, there kind of is. A reason, I mean. If Corsetti has anything to say about it."

They sobered at that, and Rio reached for his hand. They fell together onto the bed and held each other close. Rio didn't know who to undress first, but soon enough they were naked. They kissed until their lips were too sensitive. Rake moved down Rio's body with a kiss to every inch of flesh. He hoisted Rio's legs in the air and stared between them.

"Finally."

Rio choked on a laugh as Rake's tongue delved between his ass cheeks and licked at the skin around his hole. He hummed in pleasure and grabbed underneath both of his knees. Rake took advantage and went in deeper, lying on his belly and holding him open with both hands. His wicked tongue swirled and dipped until he could push it in a few inches.

Rio moaned and writhed but tried to keep quiet in case anyone came into the house. God, so good. Rake sat up and wiped the wetness off his chin. He took Rio's cock into his mouth and sucked. He pushed a finger into his wet hole and didn't stop what he was doing until Rio came down his throat. Fast and raw, it made Rio's heart ache. Rake jerked up and jacked himself until he came with a grunt and shiver on Rio's stomach. They lay together in silence until Rio stirred.

"Hey, tomorrow's our camping trip. You still in?"

"Hell, yes."

Nerves and anticipation rolled through Rio as he tried to fall asleep. What would tomorrow bring? He'd find out soon enough.

Chapter 21

Rake

Nighttime in the desert was both magical and creepy. Thank God Rio and Fox were there, or else he would've been in trouble. They built a fire, and Rake had not paid attention to the fact that there were no tents.

"Don't need them," was all Fox would say. He'd been quiet on the drive and kept his eyes closed while he murmured to himself in the passenger seat.

Rio smiled.

Rake darted glances around at the shadows beyond the fire, and asked, "What about like coyotes or whatever?"

"They'll stay away from the fire."

"Oh." A yipping howl came from the distance, and Rake crowded closer to Rio on the old log. They hadn't even brought chairs. Rio had dressed him warmly and given him some old hiking boots that were worn enough to fit.

"Food?"

"We'll have some in the morning. We need clear heads tonight."

He chewed on his lower lip. "No s'mores, Duran Duran?"

Rio knocked his shoulder. "Relax. I've got you, Def Leppard."

He smiled as Fox stoked the fire.

Fox and Rio spoke in their native tongue. Rake didn't care that he couldn't understand, happy to sit with his eyes closed and let it all wash over him.

The fire grew, and Rake relaxed more as the flames danced in the small breezes. The sky turned indigo on the horizon, and large shapes that were the craggy mountains loomed tall and ominous in the distance. Stars winked into existence, one at a time, until the sky became a blanket of shimmering darkness.

Fox kept up a steady song or chant. Either way, its rhythm hypnotized Rake. He didn't know how many hours passed before his head emptied of all thoughts. Priorities were clearer out in the desert. Simpler. Survival was more important than power or money.

Truth.

Love.

Rake needed them. Not wanted necessarily, because he wasn't good at that stuff, but needed. Perhaps more than he knew.

Rio stared into the fire with a serene expression. The flickering flames sharpened his cheekbones and jawline to thin orange and black blades.

Everything Rake's heart needed was right in front of him. But was it okay to put that much on one person's shoulders? Shouldn't he be reliant on himself?

His concentration broke when the flames sputtered and hissed. A voice rose from deep within him.

Love isn't the same as dependency. Everything you give to those you love will be returned threefold.

***

Rio

Fox spoke to Rio about the importance of life and how he chose to live it. "Heal your heart before you give it to another, River. Otherwise, he'll be holding a million pieces, trying to keep it all in one place for you. But you are the one with the glue to put it back together. Only you know which piece goes where for it to be whole again. But when you do, he'll keep it safe, so it never shatters. I have a good feeling about him. You two will live a long happy life together. The Crow Spirit told me."

Rio had listened and nodded.

Later, he sensed the moment Rake gave in to the prayers and the flames. His body remained upright, but his thoughts were gone. Rio let himself go after that and gave in to the warmth from the fire and the cool desert air behind him. The smoke burned his eyes and lungs, but he breathed in deep anyway.

His heavy soul dragged his mind down into a buried hole. A place as familiar as his own bed. The memories of his anger and resentment from childhood lived there.

Makay was also there, but he never thought about his former love. He'd never grieved after his heart was broken. Instead, he'd closed the door and did everything he could to forget, to protect himself.

His grandparents falling out of love was an excuse born of fear. They loved each other, but life was hard, and it got in the way. They'd fought their way through it and found themselves again. Maybe they weren't the same people they'd been when they met, but that was okay. Everyone changed.

And he couldn't base his own relationships on what his mother or biological father had done either. He was nothing like them in that regard. He loved being at home and in his studio, near his friends and family, traveling for a vacation every now and then.

You would go somewhere else for Rake. Not because of him.

The realization slapped him in the face, and he blinked out of his meditation.

The Great Spirit.

Why was he willing to give up his life in Riverbend for someone he hadn't even known a week ago? Could it be true? Had he fallen that fast?

Rake gazed into the flames, shadows marring his bold features. This man, who was so afraid of endangering Rio and his family, was willing to run all alone. Willing to give up his career and put himself in danger in order to not hurt people he'd never even met. Willing to push Rio away.

Well, no more. If he had to go, Rio would follow. Life was too short to sit back, afraid of what could happen. He was more afraid of what would happen if he stayed behind. His father's words echoed in his mind, but he wasn't going to ask Rake to stay; Rio was going to tell him he'd do what it took to be with him.

Or he'd tell him when the night was done.

The flames settled, and Rio and Rake crawled into their sleeping bags close to the heat. They didn't speak. Rio rose a few times to add logs to the fire—Fox left at some point—while Rake slept through the night.
Chapter 22

Rake

They woke to a banked fire in the chilly dawn. Rio stoked it and made cowboy coffee in a small tin pan over the fire. He also cooked some biscuits and warmed some honey. Rake never had a breakfast like that.

Once at the house, he borrowed some workout clothes and went for a run. It helped clear the anxiety. He needed to be alone for a few minutes. Not that Rio suffocated him, but he was a distraction, and Rake couldn't think.

Indecision crippled him. Since childhood, whenever he was faced with two or more life-altering consequences, he froze. Or ran.

Guess things don't change that much.

He couldn't hide anymore. Not if he wanted to get out of this mess and get his life back. Time was running out. He powered his phone on and messages flooded in. Worry and fear from Hunter. Annoyance from Luis. Anger from his father.

One message chilled his blood. "You have two days to come and see me." Corsetti didn't sound upset, but Rake didn't know the man well. He certainly wasn't going to buy Rake a coffee and pat him on the head. The voice mail had been left just over eighteen hours ago.

In the light of a new day, his epiphanies from the night before played on a loop, still valid, but now out of reach. How could he keep endangering Rio? He needed to deal with Corsetti in Vegas, far away from the man who held his heart like a tiny, baby rabbit in large callused hands.

The run helped clear his mind, but Rake didn't like the conclusion he'd reached. He showered one last time and dressed in his own clothes. At the last minute, he stuffed Rio's red flannel into his bag and headed out of the house.

The band saw shrieked from the studio. Rake hesitated as he looked toward the open doors and hoped for...what? That Rio would rush out to stop him? What nonsense. He'd made his decision. He had no idea how to begin a conversation with Rio about a relationship.

He left a note on the bed saying he'd return when it was safe. Rake threw his bag onto the back seat of his old car and drove down the mountain. He ignored the tears.

He called Hunter, whose voice shook with relief to hear from him.

"You're coming home?"

Rio's face loomed in his mind, and his gut ached with sadness and guilt. "I'm coming to Vegas. I'm leaving home."

"What do you mean?"

Rake laughed at himself. "Fuck, man. I don't even know where to start. You have time? I've got a few hours to drive."

"Of course. One sec." Shuffling noises and soft murmuring came through the phone in a tone Rake recognized.

"Shit, sorry. You're with someone?"

"It's fine. Okay, go."

Rake started from when he left his house and left nothing out. He spent a long time describing Rio and his family, what he'd experienced at the campsite and why he'd left.

"Sounds like you're in love."

Rake took a hand off the wheel and drove with his knee while he scrubbed at his face. He squinted at the road as the sun came out of hiding behind some clouds. "Fuck, I-I don't know how it's possible."

Hunter's sigh was filled with every unspoken thought. He knew Rake well, and his trouble with relationships. "What are you gonna do about Corsetti?"

"Can you put the word out that I'm back in town, so he calls off his search? I don't want anyone else finding Rio. I got lucky with that PI, Kairo. He's a halfway decent human being."

"Kairo? James Kairo?"

Rake pulled the phone away from his ear at Hunter's yell. "Yeah. Why?"

Hunter scoffed into the phone. "I hired him to find you, not Corsetti."

"That's not what he said."

"That son of a bitch was working for both of us!"

"Well, he's in Salt Lake right now, cooperating with that Marshal, West."

Hunter was quiet for a few minutes, breath harsh. "How far away are you?"

"I don't know. About two hours, maybe."

"I'll come and stay with you. I don't want you to be alone when Corsetti's thugs come knocking."

"No way. I'm not putting you in danger too."

"Rake, come on. You need to let someone help you."

"I am. They're called US Marshals and, I don't know, probably the FBI, that's after him. I know you want to help. So does Rio, but there's nothing either of you can do."

Hunter's frustrated growl was music to Rake's ears.

"I missed you, man. I'm sorry I disappeared on you."

"It's cool. But I'm still coming to see you. Drive safe." And with that, he hung up.

"Stubborn jackass," Rake muttered with a smirk. He was surrounded by them.

***

Rio

The saw stopped spinning after Rio shut it off. He removed his protective gear and took a long drink of water. Air flowed through the studio but sweat still poured off him. He drank some more and checked the time. Why hadn't Rake come in after his run?

Rio had been so lost to his work, several hours had passed. Rio had good instincts, but he didn't realize Rake was gone until he glanced at the front of the house as he left the studio. Rake's car was gone. Rio ran to the front and stopped in the driveway. He had to stop himself from jumping in his truck. Rake had to be long gone by now.

He recalled his conversation with his father, and his epiphany while he stared into the fire the night before. Two parts of his soul were at war. Let him go or fight to keep him?

Rio made his decision. Rake was it for him, so he listened to his instincts and pulled his phone out. He had some calls to make.
Chapter 23

Rake

Rake entered his apartment, weary from the drive, and dropped his bag by the door. The light from the open blinds faded into twilight. His apartment was as he'd left it. Old furniture, beige-colored carpet—once white, if the spots where furniture had been were any indication—a huge flat-screen on the wall, and a console stuffed with movies. His bookcases held photos, books and treasures collected over the years, like his POP! of Rocky, and his walls featured posters of his fights and others.

He showered and dried off, slung the towel around his hips, and headed to his bedroom, intent on finding his most comfortable pair of jeans, when he walked into a wall.

Well, it felt like a wall, but walls didn't have hands that lifted people clear off their feet and slammed them into things. Rake's instincts took over and he fought, but he didn't make much progress except to lose his towel somewhere on the floor. The wall, one of Corsetti's thugs, Tiny, carried him to the living room and deposited him in the armchair by the TV without breaking a sweat.

"Jesus, fuck!" Rake straightened. He wanted to spring from the chair swinging, but the gun in Christopher's hand told him it'd be wise to stay still.

"You shouldn't have run, Rafael," Corsetti said. He sat on the striped couch, dressed all in black. Even his gloves were black, which Rake did not like. It made him think Corsetti didn't want to leave any fingerprints on his dead body. His hair was tousled, and he had dark smudges under his bright blue eyes. What did mobsters lose sleep over?

Rake shook off his fight instincts and settled in the chair, not caring that every inch of his body was exposed. If they didn't like it, they'd let him get dressed. "I didn't feel like I had any choice."

Corsetti lifted a brow. "Then why did you return? Do you have my money?"

"Nope." Rake didn't know what to say, so he lied. "I was worried about my dad after he called me."

The sharp stare from Corsetti gave him a zing of adrenaline, but he held the man's eyes without blinking. He could do this. He had to do this if he ever wanted a normal life again. A life that he hoped included Rio. He put Rio out of his mind. He needed to concentrate.

The scent of expensive cologne drifted in the cool apartment. A chill raced up Rake's spine as those bright eyes drifted over his body. He'd never been shy, but that look gave him heart palpitations. Not the good kind. He had no clue if the man was gay or bi, but he had to be one of them, because no straight man looked at another that way.

"Louie, take him to get some clothes, please." Corsetti settled in his seat.

The request surprised the hell out of Rake, and he glanced at Corsetti, who gestured for Rake to follow the giant. He tried to affect a calm demeanor but didn't dawdle and threw on his favorite jeans and a gray gym shirt.

Tiny didn't allow him to linger and pushed him out into the living room.

"What do you have to drink?" Corsetti asked.

He paused by the kitchen. "Maybe some beer? I haven't been here, remember?"

Tiny growled—honest-to-God growled—deep in his chest, and Rake braced himself, waiting for him to turn into a werewolf.

"Respect," was all he said.

Impressed, Rake lifted his hands. "My bad."

He glanced at Corsetti. Had he stifled a laugh? He wanted to know what the hell was going on. That wasn't a man bent on murder or revenge. Maybe Rake didn't matter that much to him in the grand scheme of things, which he prayed was true. But why come here, in person, tonight? Why not just send his thugs?

He grabbed several cans of beer, returned to the living room, and handed them out. Christopher and Tiny didn't touch theirs, but Corsetti cracked his open and drank. Rake did the same but tasted nothing as it went down.

Rake glanced around as he sat in the armchair. Christopher's gun was gone. "Why do I get the feeling this meeting is different than the last one?" he asked, eyeing all three men.

"Because there's no chance of us being overheard here." Corsetti scanned the room, then nodded at his men. "Chris and Louie are the only ones I trust."

Rake glanced at them but kept his attention on Corsetti. "What do you want?"

"I want out."

The simple statement in that calm voice unnerved Rake. "Out? Like out of the business? I don't understand. You're the one with the power here." It grated to say it, but if they were going for honesty, Rake would try his best.

"Not really, no."

That stopped Rake's comeback. He ran a hand through his hair and thought hard. "You have bosses, you mean?"

One brow raised in disbelief. "Of course, I do. And they pull my strings like a fucking marionette."

"Okay, what does that have to do with me?"

Corsetti leaned forward. "You are going to help me."

Rake shook his head. "I'm sorry, it sounded like you said you want my help against your bosses?"

"That's right. And you will do as I say, Rafael, or you can kiss that handsome artist in Utah you like so much good-bye."

Rage and fear churned in Rake's stomach. He clenched his fist around his beer and crinkled the can. He slammed it on the table, not caring that it spewed everywhere.

"How the fuck do you know about him?" Had Kairo snitched after all? Or had someone else been here? Is Rio in danger?

"Calm down. You will do what I say, or so help me God, you and everyone you care about will pay."

Rake tried to settle and took slow breaths. Flying at Corsetti and punching his teeth out wouldn't help. He'd fucking love it, but it wouldn't solve anything.

The bags under Corsetti's eyes made sense now. He was terrified. Trapped, just like Rake.

"What happened between sending Kairo after me a few days ago and now?"

"That's not your concern."

Rake pushed any sympathy aside. "What do you want me to do?" he asked through gritted teeth.

"We'll delay the money...for now. What I need first is an in with your new Marshal friends without anyone else knowing. They can't tell any superiors or write up any reports."

Rake was shaking his head before Corsetti stopped. "How the hell...? I don't have that power."

"Maybe not, but I think your new boyfriend has a way."

"You mean Alvarado? He's indisposed right now."

Corsetti gave a slow blink. "That's not my problem." He lifted his chin and glared at Rake with all the arrogance of a man who knew he was in charge. "Make it happen, and I'll give you more time to get me the money." Before Rake could speak, he continued, "I'm being very generous. Don't throw it back in my face. I could demand the money now, kill your boyfriend, and still force you to help me."

Rake's stomach lurched. "Fine. I'll get in touch with Alvarado as soon as he's available. Leave Rio alone."

Corsetti stood and Rake mirrored him.

"You have my word no harm will come to him...for now."

They didn't shake or say good-bye, which was fine with Rake. He slammed the door. It didn't make him feel any better, so he grabbed his gloves, ripped off his shirt and attacked his standing bag in the second bedroom.

Corsetti was an evil bastard, giving Rake hope one moment and snuffing it out the next. He punched and kicked and elbowed until his arms were dead. He collapsed on the floor.

Movement caught his eye. "Gah!" Rake jerked and sat up fast. "Jesus Christ, man. You gave me a heart attack. How does everyone keep sneaking up on me?"

Hunter chuckled. "I told you I was coming."

"I know, but Corsetti was here when I got out of the shower, so I'm a little jumpy."

Hunter cursed. "How the hell did he know you were back? Are you okay?" Hunter reached down and hauled Rake to his feet.

"I'm fine. He wanted to renegotiate his terms." Rake was on the fence about telling Hunter. He wanted to keep his friend safe, not drag him into his mess any further.

"Renegotiate?" Hunter crossed his arms with a furrowed brow. "That doesn't sound like him. What does he want now?" Rake's hesitance pissed him off. "Stop with the 'trying to protect me' bullshit. I'm already in this. Knowing the details isn't going to make it worse."

Rake ran a hand over his sweaty chest. He needed another shower. "Come on. But you can't tell anyone." He pulled his shirt on and led Hunter to the kitchen for a glass of water. He told him about the new deal.

"Corsetti wants out?" Hunter whispered as if the man was nearby and could hear him.

Hell, maybe he could. Maybe he'd planted a bug in there and that was how he found out Rake was home. Although, he could have terrified one of his neighbors into tipping him off.

"That's what it sounds like."

Hunter's lips puckered in his thinking face. "I wonder if the Marshals will play ball?"

"I have no idea. But he expects me to be the middleman."

A tentative knock came from the door, and Rake swore. "Now what?" He didn't want to answer it, but with Hunter as backup he went to look out the peephole.
Chapter 24

Rake

Rake tried to tear the door off the hinges to get it open. "Rio?" He grabbed the beautiful man by the shirt front and hauled him to his chest. Rio's bag dropped to the floor, and Rake buried his face in Rio's neck and held on.

"What are you doing here?" he mumbled against his silky skin, inhaling the welcome scent of his shower gel.

"I followed you after you left without a word, you jerk." Rio punched him on the back of the shoulder.

"I left a note."

Rio moved a few inches—Rake wouldn't let him go far—and looked him in the eyes. "I saw it. I ignored it."

"How did you know where I live?" He blinked hard at the wetness in his eyes.

"I saw your license and memorized the address. I figured you'd do something stupid like this."

"When did—"

"Are you going to let the man in, Rake?" Hunter grinned like an idiot.

"Oh, yeah. Come in." Rake moved aside, Rio stepped in, and he shut and locked the door. "Rio, this is Hunter Camp. Hunter, this is my boyfriend, Rio Danvers."

"I don't think I've ever heard him use that word before," Hunter said with a chuckle as he shook Rio's hand.

"What word?" Rio asked with his head tilted in that adorable way.

"Boyfriend." Hunter still grinned like an idiot as he studied Rio.

"Oh." Rio flushed a little, which Rake loved. Rio didn't embarrass easily. "Yeah, that's new." He slanted a look at Rake, who shrugged.

He plucked at Rio's shirt tail. "Seriously, babe, what are you doing here? You know it's dangerous." Rake took his arm, turned him around and latched on to his waist.

"Why don't you two go in the bedroom for some privacy? I'll order some food, and then we can talk about Corsetti." Hunter, ever the organizer, shooed them away.

Rake led Rio by the hand, closed his bedroom door and waited as Rio studied his bedroom. He had more stuff lying around in there than Rio did in his entire house, not counting his studio of course. Books sat in various piles on the nightstands and dressers. A smaller flat-screen sat on the long, brown dresser against the wall along with several scattered DVDs and Blu-rays. A few clothes lay on the floor around the laundry basket, which he scooped up and threw in.

Rio sat on the edge of the bed, and Rake balled his fists to stop himself from attacking the man. Only a few hours had passed, but he already missed the shape of Rio under his hands. Fuck, he looked so good in his faded blue T-shirt and jeans.

He sat on the bed with one leg folded to face Rio.

"I decided I wanted to be here with you." Rio frowned. "I'm not sure how to explain it." He paused and licked his lips. The gesture made Rake hungry for a taste.

"I came to the realization," Rio tried again, "that I'd go with you for you, not because of you." He stopped and met Rake's eyes. "Does that make sense?"

"So, you're saying you're here because it was your decision, not because you thought you had to come?"

"Exactly. I'd rather be with you than waiting at home, worrying."

Rake blinked, stunned at the words. "What about your work?"

"Grandad and Grams are handling the last of the barn doors for me. My sisters will watch the house. The rest can wait."

"I don't know what to say," Rake's voice cracked. "No one's ever...no one's—"

Rio reached out and dragged him closer. He kissed the side of Rake's head and held on tight. Rake slid his arms around him and clung. He'd never clung to anyone before, but he needed Rio's strength.

"I'm here for you, Rafael."

A small gasp and sob escaped Rake, and he held on to Rio tighter. He squeezed too hard, he knew, but couldn't stop. "Thank you." He breathed deep. "Thank you for being here for me."

Rio kissed his ear, jaw, chin, and lips. Rake returned them as he tried to settle his thumping heart. He kissed harder, overcome, unable to restrain himself. He sucked Rio's tongue into his mouth as his hands rucked his shirt up to touch the skin of Rio's broad back. The muscles bunched and shifted as he moved.

Rio pushed him to the mattress and hovered over him, one hand braced by his head, the other slid down his chest to his stomach, and lastly, his cock. It strained against the confines of his jeans. Rio opened the button and lowered the zipper, not wasting precious time, and pulled Rake free. He fisted the hard length and pumped several times to get him harder, until he writhed on the bed.

"More," Rake moaned. "Rio, I want you to fuck me."

Rio paused as he lowered his head and smiled, then sucked the swollen head of Rake's cock into his mouth. He cried out and speared his fingers into Rio's unruly hair. He'd never been so hard in his life. Who knew grand gestures could be such a turn-on?

He pumped his cock into that eager mouth as Rio kept pressure on the base of his shaft and suction on the tip. He came in a flurry of curses and groans and collapsed. Rio moved to lie beside him, and Rake reached out to massage the rigid length trapped in his jeans.

Rio kissed his lips. "Later. Hunter is waiting."

He scowled, but Rio was right. His friend had heard them fooling around, no doubt—not that he cared. Rio went to the bathroom to wash his hands, and Rake buttoned up and attempted to tame his hair.

Hunter lay sprawled on the couch, watching Rake's last fight on the DVR. He smirked at Rake and bounced his eyebrows.

Rake rolled his eyes and sat beside him. "Sorry to keep you waiting."

"No worries. I was making mental notes about your training."

"Don't know if I'll be up for that anytime soon, man."

Hunter gave a slow nod. "You need to call Luis. If Corsetti still expects money from you, you'll have to keep fighting."

He heaved a sigh. "I know." Another headache for Rake to deal with. "He's going to be pissed."

"Who's going to be pissed?" Rio asked as he came in and sat in the chair. Rake missed his heat, but he'd endure.

"My manager, Luis. He's been blowing up my phone, threatening to drop me if I don't answer."

"Why don't you call him?"

"Because I don't know what to say. He'll be on Corsetti's side. My dad was the one who hired Luis for me in the first place." Rake leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "Rio, I need to tell you something, and ask you for help."

"Anything I can do. I told you that."

Rake nodded, and Hunter nudged him with his elbow. "I like him."

He acknowledged that with a smile and gathered his courage before saying, "Corsetti and two of his men were here when I got back."

Rio started. "What? How did they find out? What did they do?"

"They probably got a neighbor to watch for me. He wants me to get him in touch with Judge. He says he wants help getting out from under his bosses."

Rio straightened his spine, eyes wide. "Judge? I can't—"

"I know, babe. I told Corsetti he wasn't available right now." Rake hesitated with his next question. "Have you heard anything about him?"

Rio frowned. "No, not yet."

"Who's Judge?" Hunter asked, eyes pinging between them.

"He's the Marshal I told you about on the phone. I met him when I was with Rio. They're family. He's on another case right now, out of reach."

Rio gave him a grateful half smile for his careful words. "I can call West. We need to anyway, to tell him you're here."

"Yeah. That's on my list."

"Listen," Hunter said, "I'll talk to Luis for you. I'll tell him you need a break."

"Thanks, man. He won't be happy."

Hunter scoffed. "Since when have I ever cared what he thought? I'm your trainer. I say you need a rest."

They stood and Rake walked him to the door.

He pulled Rake into a hug. "Be careful. Nice to meet you, Rio."

Chapter 25

Rio

"It was nice to meet you too," he called out to Hunter as he left. Rake locked the door behind him and went to the kitchen for the Chinese food Hunter ordered. He made two plates and set them on the breakfast bar that separated the kitchen from the living room.

"Come and eat."

Rio took a stool and glanced over at Rake. "You still have to pay him, don't you? Corsetti? That's why you're not jumping with joy right now."

Rake nodded with a mouthful of noodles.

Rio blew out a breath and kept eating. He'd been too upset earlier to eat. Hunter had been nice. A solid presence in Rake's life.

Rake had been overwhelmed when Rio first arrived, but he'd calmed down. Fuck Corsetti for showing his face. Rio was glad Rake had someone else in his corner. His father and manager didn't count.

What can I do? Besides his connection to the Marshals through Judge—and Rake had West's number now—Rio didn't have much to offer.

"Hey." Rake put his chopsticks down, grabbed his chin and turned his face toward him. He kissed him, then let go. "It's going to be okay, Duran Duran. If we keep talking to the Marshals, we'll get through this."

"I'm allowed to worry. And I don't know how to help you."

Rake's soft smile comforted Rio. "Knowing that you're out there thinking of me helps. If I disappeared, you'd notice."

"Of course I would. So would Hunter."

"He would, but he can't go against Corsetti in this town. But you. You gave me the feds." Rake cocked his head and grinned. "Just don't give yourself an ulcer. It'll work out."

"I should be the one reassuring you."

"We can reassure each other." He kissed him again. "I'm actually kind of glad I came back. I want to get this over with."

"Me too." Rake returned to his food, and marks on his skin caught Rio's eye. "What is this?" He pulled at the collar of Rake's shirt. "You have bruises."

"What? Oh." Rake fingered his neck. "One of the thugs kind of threw me around a little. I'm fine."

Rio's heart raced. "You sure? They look bad."

"I'm sure." Amusement glittered in Rake's eyes. "I can take hits."

"I guess you can," Rio conceded. "Do you have any balm?"

"Yeah. I should shower first, though. I'm all sweaty from my workout."

Rio placed light kisses on the abused skin. "When did you have time to work out?" Rio asked as he followed him to the bathroom.

"Before Hunter got here. I was stressed out from Corsetti."

Rio nodded. "I'll put the food away. Meet me in the bedroom?"

Rake pulled him close and kissed his neck. "I'll be the naked, wet one."

"I'll just be naked."

Rio dealt with the leftovers and wiped the counters before he headed to the bedroom. He found Rake's lube and condoms and took his clothes off. The comforter and sheet went on the floor, and Rio settled on the mattress. He gave himself slow, firm strokes until he fully hardened. He almost missed when the shower shut off.

Rake took a few minutes to come out. Rio made sure the condom was close by as Rake walked in. He'd been right; he was naked and wet.

"You are so fucking hot." He sat up, reaching for all that glorious skin.

Rake leaned into his touch and smiled. "I still want your cock in me, babe."

He stifled a groan. "Lie down."

They switched places, and he smeared some lube on his fingers, going straight for Rake's hole. "You got yourself ready?"

Rake nodded and licked his lips. "Some, but I probably need more lube. It's been a long time since I bottomed."

Rio eased one finger inside as Rake pushed out. It went in without much trouble, but the second finger caused Rake to wince, so Rio slowed down and massaged the inner walls. By the time he tried a third finger, Rake was panting and writhing on his hand.

"Come on. I want it." He moaned when Rio quirked his fingers. "Wanna feel you inside me."

Rio took his hand away and rolled the condom down his length. He lined the head of his cock with Rake's stretched hole and moved forward. He stopped when he reached too much resistance, but Rake bore down, and the head popped in. He slid all the way home, seated to the hilt.

He moaned long and loud. "So tight, Rake."

"Yesss," Rake hissed as he gazed at Rio. "Move."

Rio obeyed the command. He thrust forward and sprung back as if his hips were made of coils. Rio fucked him, and Rake scoured his skin with blunt nails and bit Rio's forearm. He grunted, and Rake licked and kissed the love bite in apology.

Rio wanted it hard and dirty. Skin slapping skin. The squelch of lube. But the closer he came to orgasm, the slower he went. Rake tried to speed him up. He clenched his hole around Rio's cock and bounced his hips, but Rio wouldn't give in.

Rio stopped altogether and lay on top of Rake. He wrapped his legs around Rio when he clued into what Rio wanted. Rake kissed Rio hard. He licked Rio's tongue and sucked on it while he flexed and released his ass muscles with Rio's cock as far inside him as it could go.

Slow movements made with purpose, every touch of their hands and every kiss made breathing harder, and the tightening of their balls more apparent. He kissed Rake with all he had, not able to hold off any longer. He stared into Rake's eyes and fucked deep. He threw his head back as Rake shouted and shuddered. Rio's orgasm chased Rake's, and he came hard, eyesight dimming before the pleasure loosened its hold on him. He fell on top of Rake and didn't move.

"I don't want you in danger, but I'm so glad you're here," Rake said between puffs of air.

Rio smiled into Rake's skin. "Me, too." He pried himself off Rake to get rid of the condom.

"Are we...I mean is this crazy?" Rake glanced at Rio, then away. "I've never felt this way before. Is it the same for you?"

Rio took too long to answer, and Rake sat up and stared.

Finally, he said, "It is the same for me. I like you, Rake. A lot. But I have been in a relationship before. I was in love with a guy named Makay once." He paused to gauge Rake's expression. "This is different. You're different," he hurried to say.

Rake's eyes softened, and he lay down with his head propped on one hand. "Babe, it's okay. I'm not upset. What happened?"

Rio rubbed the heels of his hands in his eyes to stop the memories, but they barreled in anyway. "We were in love. Well, I was," he corrected. "We lived together, got engaged, sort of." Rio took his time, and Rake didn't push. He cleared his throat. "We met and started to fuck right away. Before dating. I've had one-night stands before and since, but we kept getting together and having sex. It wasn't a relationship...until it was, and we were living together. Only he didn't agree. He apparently considered us roommates who fucked."

"That had to hurt." He ran a hand up Rio's chest and rubbed the skin over this heart.

"It did."

"What about the engaged thing?"

Rio huffed an unamused laugh. "When we finally talked about it, and he figured out I was in deeper than he was, I think he panicked because he was living rent-free and didn't want to get kicked out. He proposed, said he loved me. He'd always said that though, so I was really confused."

"I bet." Rake lowered his head and kissed his jaw.

Chasing his lips, he said, "I shouldn't have said yes. It was a knee-jerk reaction." He took in a careful breath. "He left in the middle of the night with all my cash and anything else he could carry."

"What? That piece of shit! Is he still in Riverbend?" Rake jumped off the bed as if he were going to charge all the way to Utah.

"Easy there, Slayer. He's long gone."

Rake's chest puffed out; then he exhaled and fell onto the bed. "The police didn't catch him?"

"No. But there's a warrant for his arrest." They threaded their fingers together.

Rake scrunched his brow. "I get the no sex without dating now, but is that why you have so little stuff in your house?"

Rio's mouth flattened. "I didn't want to replace it. In some ways, it's like a reminder."

"I'm so damn sorry he did that to you. I will beat his chickenshit ass if I ever meet him."

Rio sat up and caught Rake's face in both hands. The kiss that followed was the sweetest he could make it.

Rake hummed as he pulled away. "Babe?"

"Yeah?" Rio asked as he chased his lips once again. Why was the man so damn elusive?

"Did you call me Slayer?"

"You called me Duran Duran earlier!"

Rake tackled him to the bed with a laugh and continued the kiss where Rio left off.

Chapter 26

Rake

"Come on. We're going out."

They'd been holed up in his apartment for three days, and while the time alone getting to know each other better—and the sex—with Rio was amazing, Rake was going stir-crazy.

He had called Judge's boss West and was told off for making a move without his say-so. Rake had held his tongue since he needed their help. West had to clear a few things before he could meet them in Vegas. He hadn't liked Corsetti's insistence of an off-the-books meeting, but he'd given his word not to tell anyone. Yet, he'd stressed.

Rio raised a brow. "Is it safe?"

"I think so. Corsetti wants my help now. Hopefully he won't change his mind."

Rio powered off the TV, rolled off the cushions, and stood with a long stretch. Rake salivated and reached for him, but he swatted his hand away with a laugh. "Haven't you had enough?"

"Nuh-uh. Never."

Rio's smirk softened into a smile.

They got dressed, and this time he gave Rio some clothes. Dark jeans with an ankle cuff framed his ass beautifully, and a tight shirt in a deep ruby red that made his skin and eyes glow.

Rake wore a soft blue V neck shirt over faded jeans and scuffed brown boots.

Rio put his arms around him when he exited the bathroom and fitted his nose under his jaw. "God, you smell good."

"Thank you. You look good to enough to eat." He pretended to bite into Rio's jugular.

Rake locked the door and led Rio out to the busy street below to flag down a cab. He lived close to The Strip on East Flamingo Boulevard, so there were cabs everywhere, and soon enough they were on their way to Hunter's bar to get their night started.

Rake hoped Corsetti wasn't casing the place. They both needed a night to unwind. Although the immediate threats were off the table, he didn't trust the man.

"Have you ever been to Vegas? I never asked you."

"A few times. Carter and I and a few other guys came once for a bachelor party. And once just the two of us, to do a little gambling. I didn't win anything."

Rio held his hand in the back of the cab, and his balls tingled when he ran his thumb over the sensitive skin on his wrist.

He shifted. Down, boy. "Did you have fun?"

"Yeah. I had a massive hangover, though."

"Which time?"

"Both," he said with a grin.

Rake chuckled. "I don't drink much. Hunter lets me have some, usually after a match."

"I guess you have to have a pretty strict diet and training program."

Rake nodded. "I like it, though. Well, I did, despite the fact that my sperm donor was the one who made me do it."

Rio gave him an understanding glance and shifted lower in the seat. He wasn't being seductive on purpose, but the man breathed, and Rake got hard. He moved their joined hands over Rio's knee and inched north.

Rio twitched and huffed a quiet laugh. "Where do you think you're going?" He gasped and stifled a moan when Rake cupped Rio's hand over his own balls.

Pressing his lips to Rio's ear, he lowered his voice and whispered, "I'm not going anywhere. It's all you, baby."

A cough interrupted their stare-off. "That'll be twenty-five."

Rio swiped his debit card, and they got out. His sheepish grin made Rake laugh. He loved to tease the man who was always so cool and collected.

He led Rio into Hollywood and Wine and spotted Hunter behind the bar.

"I remember this piece." Rio walked up to the bar and ran his hand over the top. "This wood was difficult to work with."

Rake leaned into his shoulder. "I'll give you difficult wood, Duran Duran."

Rio rolled his eyes with a laugh. "You've given me plenty the last three days."

"Rake mentioned this was your work." Hunter rapped his knuckles on the bar. "Beautiful job. We get a lot of compliments on it."

"Thank you."

Hunter gave Rake a concerned look but didn't say anything. "What'll it be?"

"Usual."

"Beer for me, please."

Rio sat on the stool next to Rake's favorite spot, but instead of sitting, Rake stood between his spread legs and nudged in closer.

An unofficial gay bar, Hunter had the rainbow sticker on his door. Anyone who gave others grief got the boot, so he wasn't worried.

They chatted with Lila and Hunter, and a few people asked Rake for autographs.

Rio poked him in the stomach. "I knew you were famous."

"No, I'm really not. It's been happening more after the Championship match."

After a few beers, they grabbed a booth in the far corner where it was dark and away from the crowd. Hunter kept junk on the table to deter people from sitting there and using the shadows to conceal what their hands and mouths were doing. Exactly what Rake planned to do.

He scooted in and pulled Rio close while he cast an assessing eye over the area. Hunter had gone into the office to deal with an absent employee, and Lila covered the bar.

No one paid them any attention.

"What are you—"

Rake kissed him and shoved his tongue in as far as he could without finesse. He flattened it against the roof of Rio's mouth and slowly pulled out. Rio gripped Rake's shirt to bring his lips close to his. Rake explored every inch of Rio's mouth, licked and bit at his lips, and sucked on his smooth tongue.

"You are so fucking sexy. You drive me insane."

Rio blinked in a daze. "Come back." Rake teased him with tiny kisses to his face and neck. His fingers crept up the inside seam of Rio's jeans until they reached the prominent bulge at the apex.

"Does it hurt, baby?"

Rio moaned. "So bad."

"Do you want me to take care of it?"

Several seconds passed before Rio understood what he'd asked. He stared into his eyes, then flicked his gaze around the bar. "Right here?"

Rake's grin was wild and wicked. "Right now." When Rio hesitated, he leaned in. "You don't have to do anything if you're uncomfortable, but if you want to, you can close your eyes and relax." Rake whispered the last words into Rio's ear, brushing the sensitive lobe with his lips. "I'll do all the work and keep an eye on the crowd."

Rio let his head fall back and closed his eyes. "I trust you."

The music drowned out the rasp of the zipper, and Rake pulled Rio's cock out of the confining denim. Rio groaned in sweet relief. He kissed him one last time before turning to shield him from any eyes that might penetrate the shadows.

As he watched the crowd, Rake jacked Rio off under the table. He kept his movements loose and soft, so as not to arouse suspicion. Rio's breath caught, and he writhed his hips in small circles, seeking more friction, more heat from Rake's hand.

The calluses on his hands worked to his advantage as he dragged his rough fingers over Rio's sensitive skin. Rake gripped the base of Rio's cock and milked it, squeezing precome out of the slit and using it to wet the tip. He flicked his thumb on the sensitive gland and Rio's hips jerked.

Rio was so turned-on, he bit Rake's shoulder hard to stop a groan as he came in a hot gush over his fingers. Rake cupped his hand to catch the come before it stained Rio's jeans and grabbed a napkin from the table dispenser to clean up.

Rio puffed, out of breath, and said, "Holy shit. That was hot."

Rake smiled and kissed him. "Yes, it was. You were hot."

"I can see why you like it." Rio fixed his pants.

Rake laughed and drained his glass of bourbon. "That was way better than some shitty glory hole when I was nineteen and stupid."

They got up to leave, and Rake made a pit stop in the bathroom. When he came out, he stopped at the sight of Hunter holding James Kairo by the shirt front.

He rushed over to help. "What are you doing here?"

"I came back with West." Kairo coughed when Hunter gave him a shake.

"You piece of shit. You were working for both me and Corsetti!" He shook him again, but a man with a short black beard that covered the entire lower part of his face, put his hands out and tried to extract Kairo from Hunter's grip.

"Let's all try and relax."

Hunter scowled as he let go. "What were you gonna do, huh? Give Rake to Corsetti and take money from both of us?"

"No!" Kairo adjusted his shirt and swiped a hand through his hair. "I didn't know what I was going to do until I met him and Rio." He jerked his thumb over at the man in question who sat on a stool at the bar.

As Hunter calmed down, the onlookers dispersed when they realized there'd be no floor show.

The bearded man walked over to Rake with his hand out. "US Marshal Gannin West."

Rake shook it. "Rake."

Rio was next. "Rio Danvers."

West eyed the small group and said, "Is there somewhere we can get some privacy?"

Chapter 27

Rake

Hunter obliged and led them to the employee break room. The space was small, but they all managed to find somewhere to perch or stand. Rake glared at Kairo when he smiled and winked at Rio. Kairo's smile made Rake wonder when he and West had arrived. Had Kairo seen them? Rake didn't care, but Rio might.

West chose to stand with his arms crossed, which made his biceps strain the sleeves of his dark long-sleeved shirt. West had chocolate-colored hair and light-brown eyes. His skin was pale under his black beard, and he stood at a similar height to Rake.

"First thing to discuss. Rio, we've located Judge."

"What?" Rio shot up from his chair. "Is he—"

"He's fine. He'll be here soon."

"Fine? He's not hurt?"

"No."

Rio fell into his seat and sagged against Rake. "Oh, thank God." He pulled his phone out of his pocket. "I have to tell my family."

While Rio texted his dad, Rake studied West. He stood straight with a gun tucked into the back of his pants. His badge was hidden away, not that it helped much. He screamed law enforcement.

Kairo was another matter. Rake had to stifle a laugh. The man who had been so relaxed in Rio's kitchen was now stressed and tense beyond belief. And he stared at West. Hard.

West pretended not to see, but there was zero chance of that since they stood only a few feet apart.

"Here's what I decided," West continued. "Since Damian Corsetti wants to keep this quiet, I'll set up a meeting and talk to him with Alvarado when he gets here. I haven't spoken to my boss or the District Attorney's office here. Yet. That will be the first thing I'll convince him to do. Rake."

He snapped his spine straight. "Yes?"

"The next thing I'll do is get him to leave you alone."

"He said he still expects to be paid."

West's arrogant look settled the deep-seated worry in Rake's gut that had been planted and taken root the moment Corsetti had approached him in this very bar.

"That's not going to happen."

Rio gripped his hand and pulled it over to his lap to hold. He tilted his head and asked, "How can you be sure?"

West registered their clasped hands without expression. "Because we have something he desperately needs."

***

Rio

Judge shuffled in, disheveled and exhausted when he reached Rake's apartment later that night. Kairo and West had gone to a motel to grab some sleep, and they had returned to Rake's since the urge to go to a club had vanished after West's appearance.

Intense was too tame a word for that man. No wonder Judge trusted him with Rake's situation. He gave off serious competency vibes. Rio's worry for Rake lessened after the meeting in the break room.

Rio hugged his friend, his brother. The tension in Judge's shoulders melted away as he squeezed Rio.

He set Judge back to peer into his drooping eyes. "Are you okay? You look like shit."

"Yeah." Judge nodded to emphasize his words when Rio frowned. "I'm tired."

"What happened?"

"I can't tell you. Maybe one day, if it's ever resolved."

Rake stood beside them. "Glad you're okay, man." He thumped his broad shoulder. "You had everyone worried."

"Thanks. So, West said he spoke to you?" He phrased it as a question as he collapsed on the couch.

"Yes. He seems to know what he's doing." In the kitchen, Rio grabbed a glass of water for Judge and walked it over to him.

"You can sleep here," Rake said. "There's a bed in the second bedroom."

"Thanks, Rake. I appreciate it."

After Judge fell into bed, Rio followed Rake as he took him by the hand. They undressed and crawled under the covers.

"It feels good, doesn't it?"

Rake smiled, not needing clarification. "Yeah, it does. Judge is okay, and they're going to help us."

Us. Rio's heart thumped hard once and then settled. It sounded right. He linked fingers with Rake and drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, he woke alone. The TV rumbled in the living room, along with the low murmur of voices. He wandered into the kitchen while he rubbed his chest and yawned. "Morning."

Rake's soft smile warmed his stomach. "Hey, good morning."

"Ugh. You're going to put me off my eggs." Dazed but rested, Judge's brown hair stuck up in clumps all over his head.

Rio snorted and moved to the coffeemaker. "Nothing can put you off food. You're a bottomless pit."

"That's the truth." Rake dragged Rio between his legs where he leaned against the counter. "He's had three plates already. I'd hate to have your grocery bill." He kissed the nape of Rio's neck and caused a small shiver. "Hey, isn't your name Jericho? Why the nickname Judge?"

He gave a humorless snort, and said, "Back in the Seals, people called me the judge, jury, and executioner."

Rake gave a silent whistle but didn't ask questions.

"Did you sleep okay?" Rio asked Judge.

"Like the dead."

"Good." He rinsed his cup and set it in the drainer. "I'm going to grab a shower."

Rake followed close behind, tugging at the waistband of his pajama pants and almost tripping him.

He laughed as Rake yanked him backward and slid his hands over his stomach and up his chest. "Whatcha doing there, handsy?"

"Did you say handsome?"

"No, I said 'handsy.' " He whirled around and shook his head at Rake's fake lip quiver. "But you're handsome too."

That made him grin. "I thought we could save water by showering together."

One fun shower with slippery hand jobs later, they came out of the bedroom dressed and ready for the day. The relief West and Judge brought with their presence hadn't dispelled the niggle of worry in Rio's stomach. He wasn't even going to be at the meeting with Corsetti, and his stomach was in knots.

A bang on the door made him jump.

"Whoa. Easy, Duran Duran. It's just West."

"Duran Duran? That's priceless." Judge snorted with hilarity and put his eyes to the peephole with one hand on his gun. He opened the door, and Kairo and West walked in.

The two didn't speak and retreated to opposite sides of the apartment as fast as they could.

Rio poured the rest of the coffee for everyone and set the cups on the counter.

"Thanks." West took one and downed it without bothering to check the temperature. He didn't flinch.

Judge's eyebrows disappeared into his hair. "Long night, boss?"

"If it wasn't so early, I'd ask for some whiskey in it."

Kairo sipped at his own coffee and scowled.

Rio poured West another cup, and he took it over to the living room window. "Corsetti's men are out there."

"Fuck." Rake raced over and peeked out. "It's Christopher and Tiny."

"What're their last names?" Judge asked.

"I have no idea." Rake grabbed his cell off the counter. "Yo, Hunter—shut up, I know what time it is. What are Christopher and Tiny's full names?" He listened for a few seconds. "Thanks. Christopher Nunzio and Louie Smalls."

As Judge put a call into someone, Rio fidgeted and paced. Idleness sucked. He sat on the couch beside Kairo. "How's it going?"

Kairo snorted and shook his head while he eyed West, then glanced at Rio. "It's interesting. These guys aren't like any cops I've ever known."

"Known a lot of cops?"

"I'm a PI. They hate me." He crossed his legs and laced his fingers over his knee.

Rio smiled. "I can understand that."

He scowled. "I'll have you know, I'm amazing at what I do, and I try very hard to obey the law."

West scoffed. "That's why you've been arrested for breaking and entering, stalking, vandalism—"

Kairo straightened in alarm. "All right. We get the picture. My point is..." His brow furrowed. "I can't remember my point."

"None of us can."

He chuckled while Kairo glared at West. Rake came over, nudged him over to sit beside him, and snuck his arm around his shoulders. Rio relaxed into his side while Kairo riled Rake up.

Judge brooded in front of the TV.

"Hey. You sure you're okay?"

Judge woke from wherever he'd been with a grimace. "Yeah. Mostly." He stood before Rio could continue and walked to West's position by the window. "What are they doing?"

"Waiting."

Rake broke off his bickering with Kairo to ask, "For what?"

"To see what we do, where we go and who we talk to. If you've kept your word."

"What, he thinks I'm going to the cops?"

"Maybe. Or that Judge and I will go to the DA here or the FBI."

"Do the other Marshals know you're here?" Kairo asked.

"They know we're in the city, but I haven't told them why yet." He unfolded his arms. "Let's get started."

As Judge followed his boss down to the street, Rio joined Kairo and Rake to watch. Rake opened the blinds and windows and leaned out as West and Judge emerged from the front lobby.

The squeal of tires echoed on the quiet morning street. A beat-up Chevy Camaro careened toward the building as the window lowered. Their vantage point gave them the perfect view of a gun emerging.

"West, look out!" Kairo yelled.

"Judge!" Rio yelled at the same time.

Chapter 28

Rake

Rake cursed and pulled them back from the windows as bullets erupted from semi-automatic weapons in short staccato bursts. Every shot rang with amplified clarity as they lay on the floor. It deafened them from three stories away, so the noise on the street must be horrendous. Rake covered Rio's head, and he struggled out from under Rake with a scowl.

The shots faded, and the street grew quiet. Kairo kneeled by the window and poked his head out, searching the scene. "They're alive."

Rake sat against the couch. "Are they hit?"

"I can't tell from up here, but I don't think so. It looks like Chris and Tiny took the brunt of it."

Rio joined Kairo at the window and let out a relieved exhale. "Judge is moving."

"Come on. Let's go down," Kairo said. They hurried downstairs and out to the sidewalk. Rio went to Judge, and Kairo went to West; he had blood on his arm.

Rake gasped for air. Christ, he couldn't take much more of this shit. He tried to slow his breathing but choked. Then Rio was there. He sat with him and helped keep him calm. He wrapped an arm around him and refused to leave his side.

They sat and observed the scene while Rake settled. Funny, how they could ignore all the cops, emergency personnel, and forensic people who buzzed around them.

Judge walked over and sat on the curb beside them. "You can go on up to the apartment."

Rio nodded at West, who stood talking to a man in a suit and tie. "West is okay? I saw the EMTs leave."

"Yeah. He's fine. Bullet just grazed him."

He'd been hit on the shoulder as they dove for cover behind a parked car. Kairo had been right about the gunman's target. Christopher died from his wounds before the ambulance arrived. Tiny was on his way to the hospital.

Rake leaned around Rio. "So, it wasn't about you guys or me?"

Judge rubbed at his chin. "I doubt it. Most likely, this was a move against Corsetti. Either someone wants to take his place, or they know what he wants from us." After a beat of silence, broken only by the shout of a cop to an onlooker, Judge said, "Go on up. West and I will be clearing this mess up for hours."

Rake was calm, so he let Rio pull him to his feet and together they made their way upstairs. They locked themselves in and found Kairo eating chips and watching the news of what happened.

"And while US Marshal Gannin West was hit by a stray bullet, the Marshal's spokesperson is claiming they had no official business at the scene of the shooting. West is expected to make a full recovery."

Kairo lowered the volume as the news went on. "Somebody knows what Corsetti is up to."

"That's what Judge said."

He flopped on the couch and Rio sat in the armchair. His legs bounced, and he rubbed his hands on his thighs.

Kairo caught his gaze. "Let's eat some lunch, then go to the hospital and see Tiny."

"What? Why?"

Kairo shrugged. "Because I'm a nosy bastard and I want to see if he makes it, or if Corsetti shows up."

"They aren't going to let us in to visit him, Kairo," Rake said.

He grinned over his shoulder as he walked into the kitchen. "Oh, I can get us in. And call me Kai. Rio, you can call me sexy."

He laughed as Rake threw a pillow at his head.

***

Rio

A half an hour later, Kai led them to his car parked two blocks over from Rake's building.

"I thought you came with West?" Rio asked.

"I did. I had a friend drop my car off in case I had to split."

"Shotgun!" Rake yelled. He cut Rio off with a laugh.

Kai sang along to Mungo Jerry with his car radio while Rake sat in the back seat not pouting, like Rio suggested, because he'd lost rock, paper, scissors.

"Shotgun trumps everything. Everyone knows that's the rule."

Rio peered over the top of his sunglasses at Rake and grinned. "It's Kai's car. He made the rule."

Rake scoffed. "He wanted you up there, so he could look at you."

"He's not looking at me, Rake. He's driving."

"Yeah, Rake. I'm driving." He gave him a wolfish grin in the rearview mirror.

He narrowed his eyes and flipped him off.

Kai didn't stop chuckling until he pulled into the parking garage near the hospital; then he got serious. "Okay. Stay with me and don't speak. You'll blow my cover story." He opened his door and got out and they followed. "Just try to look sad." He popped the trunk of his car and rummaged around bags of stuff. The dim interior of the garage didn't give him much light to find what he was searching for. Before long, he produced a blue blazer and some Oxford shoes which he put on. He even slicked his hair behind his ears with a little product.

Gone was the man in flip-flops with the laid-back attitude. Kai transformed into a serious man on a mission. He hurried through the hospital doors, frantic, and up to an elderly woman in a pink and white uniform.

"Ma'am, I'm looking for Louie Smalls. He's my cousin. He was brought in with a gunshot wound, I think."

"Oh, you poor thing." She checked on her computer and said, "He's in the OR. Third floor, east wing. Follow the signs through the right-sided elevators." She gave him a family visitor name tag and wished him luck.

"Thank you so much."

They took the stairs next to the right-side elevators, and on the third floor, Kai told them to stay as he slid through the door.

Rake put his arms around Rio from behind. "Why are we waiting?"

"In case there are men here for Corsetti."

"Oh. Right. That makes sense." Rio gave him a fond smile, and he huffed. "I would have figured that out. I'm still rattled by what happened this morning." Rio patted Rake's hand on his stomach, and Rake rolled his eyes. "You're patronizing me."

Rio whipped around, startled. "I am not."

"You patted my hand like I'm a little kid."

"I was being comforting. I don't think you're an idiot."

Rake moved away with a scowl. "I said 'kid.' Not idiot."

Rio winced. "Sorry. I misheard you."

Rake's eyes bulged. "They don't sound anything alike!"

"Rake, I'm sorry."

"Uh, guys? You're kind of blowing our cover." Kai poked his head in the door and gestured them onward.

They followed Kai in strained silence down the white hallway. He pushed them into a bathroom and blocked the door with his foot.

"What is wrong with you? There could be mobsters with guns out there, and you're bickering like an old married couple."

"Sorry."

"Sorry. But for the record, I didn't appreciate it when you covered my head when those shots were fired. I can take care of myself," Rio whispered.

"Oh, excuse me for caring if you get your head blown off!"

"Guys!"

"Shut up!" They whisper-shouted in unison.

"You treated me like a kid first." Rio crossed his arms and dared him to speak.

"Okay. Fine. I'm sorry. It was a reaction. I know you can hold your own. I saw you do so in Salt Lake."

Rio unbent a little. "Well...thank you. And it's not like I don't appreciate you caring if I get shot. Of course, I do. I don't mean to sound ungrateful."

Rake pulled him in and kissed his jaw.

"Okay, now? Little tiff over?" Kai asked.

"Fuck off."

Kai booted the door open and ushered them out and to the left. "In here." He waved them over and they entered an empty patient room.

"Wait!" Rake stopped. "I was pissed first. How did you do that?"

Rio raised his brows. "I already apologized."

"Oh, you're trouble, aren't you, Duran Duran?"

Rio turned to Kai. "Did you find out anything?" He sat on the bed and crossed his feet at the ankles.

"Corsetti called but hasn't shown. There are a couple of feds in the waiting room down the hall, and they had to almost empty their supply of A negative blood for Tiny, but he's alive so far."

"How did you find all that out?"

"I have a contact here. He has all the gossip."

"So, what now?"

"Hey!"

Their heads swiveled toward the door in unison. They'd forgotten to whisper.

Chapter 29

Kai

"What are you doing in here?"

He stepped forward with a friendly smile. "I was checking on my cousin. The waiting room had some odd people in there."

The nurse relaxed. "Those are police and federal workers. It's perfectly safe."

"I see. Thank you."

She led them out and left as they neared the waiting room. Kai dropped the act and they exited through the stairwell door before the cops took notice.

"That was fun," Kai said as they walked into the parking garage.

A shout and slammed door echoed in the cavernous space. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Shit."

West marched over, having parked on the same level, indignation stamped on his handsome face. He was a confounding man. Kai told Rio the truth; he'd never met cops like West before.

"Did anyone see you? Is Corsetti here?"

Kai faced off with him, effecting a bored slouch. "Nope. He called to check on Tiny, though."

West seethed. "You could have been spotted by the shooters."

"We were careful, West. This wasn't my first rodeo."

West ignored him in favor of frowning at Rake and Rio. Kai straightened and scowled, not liking being ignored.

"And you two. You shouldn't be anywhere near this mess. Alvarado has gone to find Corsetti and set up the meeting. Go home."

They nodded and got into Kai's car.

"That guy needs to work on his charm. Seriously," Kai said as he pulled out of the garage, "he has the personality of a stump. A dead one."

"At least he's helping us," Rio said.

Kai wasn't sure if that made it any better.

***

Jericho, aka Judge

The afternoon heat pumped off the asphalt, enough to cause a stroke in the elderly. Sane people were inside in the AC. Jericho never claimed to be sane.

Besides, the heat wasn't new to him. He'd traversed deserts and jungles and swam in the open ocean. The concrete jungle of Las Vegas was no different. He'd handled the mess with Hellstrom, hadn't he...mostly? The arms dealer and trafficker was technically still at large.

Jericho scowled as he snapped a piece of pineapple gum between his teeth. He needed to concentrate on Corsetti now. Rio was involved, and he'd never let harm come to family.

He crept around the side of the large ranch house purchased under a company called Settcor Inc. A bastardized acronym of Corsetti. It was a front. They knew, the FBI knew. And Corsetti knew they were on to him, which was why he'd used Rake to reach out to the Marshals. Nabbing his bosses would be a huge coup, and Corsetti was playing the Marshals against the FBI like a maestro.

West said he'd deal with the FBI, so Jericho could do what he did best.

The snick of his favorite switchblade was the only noise as he jimmied the lock on the side door. Illegal? Eh. He had a blanket warrant. Besides, if Corsetti wanted to play ball, he'd keep his trap shut.

Closed blinds and curtains shrouded the house in shadows, and he waited for his eyes to adjust in the gloom. Open floor plan, with strategic columns and furniture placement to separate spaces. White walls and furniture let the colors from the artwork pop. Corsetti favored blue and green abstracts.

He listened. No alarm rang. No dogs charged him. Odd. Of course, the alarm could be silent. He put his knife away and pulled his Glock from the holster at his back. He moved on silent feet to the hallway and peered around the corner. Empty. He moved on and found the office on the left.

Jackpot. Water ran from somewhere in the rear of the house. Shit. Corsetti was home after all. He ignored the desk and began to search for a safe. Nothing behind the paintings or under the floor. Nothing on the bookshelves. Damn. It had to be elsewhere in the house, maybe the bedroom, or somewhere else entirely.

The water shut off, and Jericho made sure he hadn't disturbed anything. He sat in Corsetti's desk chair and waited.

Several minutes passed before Corsetti walked in, head down as he stared at his phone.

Hmm, maybe he'd gone completely digital with the evidence? That was a stupid move for a man like him. Then again, he'd left his house unarmed when people were trying to kill him.

He wore a white robe and his dark hair was slicked off his forehead which made the bright blue of his eyes stand out.

"You should pay more attention to hidden cameras." Smirking, he waved his phone at Jericho.

A tiny image of himself in the desk chair was on the screen. "So, you're not stupid after all. I was wondering why it was so easy to get in here."

Corsetti leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms. He slid his gaze over Jericho's long legs propped on the corner of the desk and lingered on his black boots. "Do you mind?"

"I don't, no." He dropped his voice. "What I do mind is you threatening people I care about."

Corsetti cocked his head. "Ah, yes. Rio Danvers. I've seen his photos." He pushed off the door and strolled over, flashing pale legs sprinkled with dark hair under his robe. "He's pretty to look at, but why is he worthy of so much loyalty? It was stupidly easy to get Rafael to cooperate. All I had to do was say his name."

His jaw ticked where he clenched his teeth, but he kept his expression cool. "Rio would do anything to help people. He'd lay down and die for me, for Rake. Loyalty isn't something you know a lot about is it, Damian?"

A grin slashed across his face. "I don't know. Are you still loyal to your country after what they did to you, Judge?"

He was screwing with him. Trying to make him angry, to make him say something he shouldn't. Jericho smiled, and Corsetti narrowed his eyes on his lips. Oh, what's this? He lowered his boots and stood with only the corner of the desk between them.

He leaned in a few inches, and Corsetti's nostrils flared as he inhaled. "I'm here to set up a meeting with you and my boss. Unless of course, you want to take your chances with the men who killed your guy and put another in the hospital?"

Corsetti clenched his teeth, and Jericho refrained from gloating.

"Tonight. Ten o'clock." He moved around the desk to grab a pen, scribbled on a Post-it, and slapped it against Jericho's chest. "This address. The less people there, the better."

He took it off his shirt and glanced down. It gave Corsetti a chance to step into his personal space. His head jerked up, and they stared at each other from inches away. That close, Corsetti's aftershave invaded his nostrils. The expensive stuff made his nose twitch, and if he was honest, his cock. Unwelcome and disturbing.

"I don't trust the FBI. There are far too many of my colleagues that have informants within their ranks. That's why I needed the Marshals in an unofficial capacity. A little less corruption. Oh, and da Silva needs to be there. I'm not finished with him."

That "a little less" rankled. "Unofficial for now. We can't keep this off the books for long."

Corsetti studied him before nodding once. "For now."

***

Corsetti

After Alvarado left, he poured himself a drink and sat on his patio that overlooked the pool with the short waterfall an ex had begged for.

That cop disturbed him. A PI much better than James Kairo had taken photos of Jericho Alvarado, and in them Corsetti had seen a tall, handsome man with short, messy hair wearing aviators and a bulletproof vest over tactical pants.

The photos revealed little of the man who stood in his office earlier. Intense, intelligent eyes with an arresting magnetism. Not one iota of fear had shown in their green depths.

He'd watched on his phone while Alvarado had searched his office. He hadn't cared. The house was a shell, after all, a place to sleep at night. There was nothing tied to him there.

Alvarado—Jericho—had been calm and methodical as he'd looked. Danger whispered off the cop, and Damian had to pause and think before he said anything stupid.

He was so close to gaining his freedom, now was the time to be at his most cunning. Some of these steps had taken years to put into place. He had to count on others, which was unheard of. Now, he had no other choice but to go forward or lie down and die.
Chapter 30

Rio

Rio stretched his sore muscles as he lay alone in the bed. Rake had given his ass a pounding as he worked off the frustration of their argument and the fear from the shootout. Rio had gathered him close after they'd showered off the sweat and come and run his hand over his back and into his hair. He'd repeated the pattern until Rake fell asleep. Rio had lain awake for a while afterward, but he'd drifted off.

He checked his phone and answered a group message from his family, and one from Carter. Still early, at eight p.m., his stomach growled to remind him they'd skipped dinner. He rolled out of bed and got dressed.

"Rake?" The apartment was quiet, the bathroom empty. He grabbed his phone and called him while he walked into the kitchen. Voice mail.

"Hey, where are—" A note on the refrigerator made him stop. "You went to the meet with Corsetti without telling me?" he continued in the voice message. A rush of anxiety rolled through him, and he tried to slow his breathing. "Rake, be careful. God, I can't believe—look, I know you don't have a lot of experience with relationships from what you've told me, but you should have woken me and told me. Please, please, come back in one piece." He hung up, wishing he'd said I love you.

His fingers tingled with the need to call Judge, but he was scared to interrupt something dangerous. He cursed. He'd already risked it with Rake's phone. Judge had enough sense to silence his phone, but what if it was the one time he hadn't, and Rio's call got him or others hurt? He'd have to wait.

A slip of paper on the floor by the front door caught his eye. He picked it up and saw an address. He opened his map app and typed it in. The outskirts of the city near the speedway.

What would he do once he got there? He'd be in the way. But wasn't Rake in the way too?

It would be stupid. Reckless.

Rake's keys sat on the kitchen counter, begging to be used.

"I'll just stay in the car. I won't go in."

He grabbed his wallet and locked the door on his way out.

***

Rake

The vibrating phone ripped Rake from a deep sleep, and he grabbed it before it woke Rio. He'd passed out after two rounds of vigorous sex, and Rio had soon followed him into dreamland.

"Hello?" he mumbled as he ducked into the bathroom.

"It's Judge. Tonight, at ten. We'll pick you up in half an hour."

He rubbed at the crust in his eye, and asked, "Why do I have to go?"

"Corsetti insisted. I guess he figures if a civilian is there, there's less likely to be gunfire. From our end anyway. I'm sure he also wants a witness who isn't a cop. Wear black."

Rake stared at his phone after Judge hung up. He didn't want to go. He didn't care if it made him a coward. Fistfights he could do, but guns were not his thing. When the shots erupted on the street below, his bowels had rumbled in fear. Kind of ridiculous that someone who made a living off violence was scared. But he was only human.

Rake snorted at himself. He'd have to get over it if he wanted this shit to end. He tiptoed into the bedroom and grabbed some black jeans and a black shirt and hoodie. Rio lay naked in Rake's bed, skin burnished gold in the low light, gorgeous ass peeking halfway out of the sheets.

Oh, he was going to be pissed, but there was no way he'd drag Rio along and put him in the line of potential fire.

He dressed in the living room, scribbled a note to Rio and pinned it to the fridge, then opened the door when footsteps echoed in the hall.

Judge's hand was raised, ready to knock. "Eager much? I thought you didn't want to go." He wore black tactical pants and a long-sleeved black shirt.

"I don't. I just want to get this over with."

"Where's River?"

"He's sleeping."

"Sleeping?" he asked, astonished. "And he knows you're leaving to meet Corsetti?"

Rake stared at Judge, then glanced over his shoulder. "Um."

Judge snorted and tried to push past him.

"I don't want him to worry," Rake said as he blocked the way. "If we're lucky, he'll sleep through the whole thing."

"Yeah? And what are you going to tell him when you see him next?"

Shrugging, Rake said, "That we have the chance for a brand-new start."

Judge pinched his nose and sighed. "Rake, he doesn't have a bad heart, so he's not going to drop dead from fright. You don't have to shield him." Judge's eyes pierced through him. "Did he tell you anything about his past?"

"You mean that asshole Mackie, or whatever?"

"Yes. If you know about him, then you know how much Rio values open and honest communication."

Rake's cheeks puffed out as he exhaled. "You want him there?"

"No."

"So, you want him sitting here by himself worrying about both of us?"

He opened his mouth, closed it, and scowled. "All right, fine. But if he gets pissed, duck and cover. And I am so pointing all ten of my fingers at you."

"Fine. Let's get this over with."

Judge led the way to the car parked under a dark streetlamp. West was behind the wheel, dressed the same as Judge. They drove toward Nellis while Judge told him the rules, with the occasional interjection from West.

"Don't engage with anyone unless I give you the okay. If the shooting starts, duck and run. Don't wait for us, just run." And so on. He stopped listening after the third time he reminded Rake to run.

West parked a few blocks away. Judge had explained that arriving first was in their best interests to get the lay of the land. They'd already studied the blueprints, but nothing compared to direct sight. The trunk popped open, and they handed Rake a bulletproof vest.

"Tight."

Judge smirked. They loaded up with guns, batons, and extra ammo, and set off on foot to the rendezvous point.

West stopped Rake at the corner of a building while Judge jogged ahead. Huge, round, white buildings surrounded them. Rake smelled fuel and oil, the air dry and hot. They were near the air base and the speedway. Every now and then, the zoom of engines floated on the wind.

They waited next to an admin building for the site. Does Corsetti own this place? He wanted to ask West but bit his tongue. They'd specifically told him not to speak unless it was an emergency.

Rake started when West gestured for him to follow. It was hard to place his feet without sound like the Marshals did. He wasn't crunching on fallen leaves, but gravel and other stuff shifted underfoot.

They entered a smaller building of what looked like offices, and Rake went to stand behind Judge.

Corsetti, dressed in a blue suit and loafers, stood by another door made of opaque glass. "Bit early, aren't you?"

Judge moved his shoulders. "So are you."

The harsh tone surprised him. Not that he wanted them to coddle Corsetti, but they did need his cooperation. Although, West said he had something Corsetti wanted. Rake had no idea what he'd been talking about and frankly, he didn't want to.

West stepped forward and stood at full height, arms loose at his sides. "I'm the Head of IOD in Utah, US Marshal Gannin West. You have information regarding certain individuals involved in organized crime?"

Corsetti leaned against the wall, bright eyes on Judge, then flicked them at Rake. "I do. What are you going to offer me?"

"Witness Protection."

Corsetti never took his eyes from West's. "Fine. But I'll not be testifying in court. I will give you physical deposition and physical evidence. That's all. And I want him to lead my case." Corsetti nodded at Judge.

This surprised both Marshals, and they glanced at each other.

"He's an investigator, not WP—"

"I don't care. He can still investigate, but I'll go through him and only him."

Corsetti's voice was strange. An accent slipped in on certain words, one that Rake had never heard.

West rubbed at his furry chin. "Why?"

"Because I saw him in action, and I know he'll do what it takes to keep me alive."

West and Judge had a conversation with their eyes. How they could see in the dim room was anyone's guess.

A shoe scuffed and both Marshals pulled their guns.
Chapter 31

Rake

"Dad?" Rake pressed his lips together after the outburst.

"Rake."

"Raymond da Silva?" West asked.

"That's right." Ray eyed the Marshals with disdain. He was pale and sweaty, with pit stains under his white dress shirt. He'd looked like Rake once upon a time, but too many casino buffets packed on an extra forty pounds. His hair had started to thin on top, and he used the old standard comb-over.

"Are you joining Corsetti in giving testimony?"

"I have the books." He held up a tablet. "I'll hand them over, but that's it. I'm leaving."

"You don't want protection?"

"Hell, no. Not from no pigs."

West and Judge didn't blink, but Rake bristled. Why the hell was he there?

"Fine. Hand it over." Judge took out his phone and started to record.

"Hey!" Ray pulled up short. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Recording the hand-over, so no one can say we coerced you or took them by force or illegal means."

"Get that out of my face! I can't have anyone know it was me."

Judge lowered the phone, but it still recorded from a lower angle, his father's face still visible. He didn't want his father to be killed, but he couldn't tell Judge to stop.

Ray looked at the Marshals, then Corsetti, then Rake. "I'll give them to my son."

West frowned but said nothing as Rake stepped ahead a little, but as the tablet reached his fingers, the door opened.

West kept his gun on Corsetti and Ray as Judge whipped his around to point at the newcomer faster than Rake could follow. "Federal Marshals! Don't move."

"Rio?" Rake went to rush forward, but Judge stopped him as Rio stepped inside the room with a gun held to the back of his head. The blood drained from Rake's face and the room tilted under his feet. He took a deep breath...and another. He couldn't pass out. Rio needed him.

"Who are you?" Judge asked.

"You don't need to know." The gunman pushed Rio's shoulder. "You should keep a better eye on your pets." He was a barrel-chested man, though lean in the hips and legs. He held Rio's shoulder with one meaty paw. He was dressed in a black tracksuit with black gloves and balaclava.

Through clenched teeth, Judge said, "We are conducting an official handover and witness testimonial. You need to put your gun down and step away."

"Oh, I'm aware. Corsetti chose his location well. I couldn't get a clean shot on anyone, so I had to join this little party."

Rake kept his eyes on Rio, calm, with his hands held at chest level. Calmer than Rake was, anyway.

Rake was so focused on Rio's face, the next few moments were a blur of loud noises and fast movements. He didn't see the gunman point his weapon toward Corsetti, which took it away from Rio's head.

Judge yelled at Rio, "Get down!"

Rake lunged forward to grab Rio as Judge fired at the gunman. His fist flew out on instinct. Thousands of hours of training took control of his muscles, and he connected with the bastard's face. West dove to cover Corsetti as the gunman kept firing, and according to Judge, Rake's hit saved them.

He yanked Rio behind the reception desk and ducked.

It lasted only a few seconds, and when the noise stopped, he waited for the ringing in his ears to cease. They finally heard Judge call their names.

"Yeah," Rake called out. "We're good." He turned to Rio whose tanned skin resembled a corpse. "You're good?"

He nodded. "You?"

"Yes. What the hell are you doing here?" He didn't yell because he was still reeling, but he wanted to.

"I needed to be close, in case something happened. I hadn't planned on leaving the car."

"Well, something happened." He pulled Rio into a hug and kissed his head. Rio squeezed him hard.

"Come on out, guys." Judge appeared over the top of the desk, eyes somber. Rake's heart thudded low in his chest.

"Rake, I'm sorry."

"Ray...?" He rounded the desk and took in the mess around them. Plaster dust and ripped up papers from stray bullets littered the floor, and Ray lay in a pool of blood, eyes wide and afraid, unmoving.

Shocked, Corsetti sat on a nearby chair. The gunman had vanished.

"He got away," West said as he came through the door.

Rake hadn't even noticed his absence.

"The cops?"

"I called them. They're blocking off a sixteen-mile radius. They'll be here in fifteen."

"No cops."

Judge glared at Corsetti. "Shut up. Give me the tablet."

Corsetti held it in his hand for some reason. He stood and surprised them all by obeying.

"You're still interested in Witness Protection?"

"Yes. He will be back. And probably others."

West scanned the mess with fists on his hips. "You know him?"

"Of him. He's a hit man."

"Right. That's just one of the things we'll go over with your testimony."

"I told you, I won't testify in court."

"We'll see. But you're still going to talk to us."

Rio put his arms around Rake as he stared at his dead father. He felt very little. He'd worry about that later. At that moment, the only word that came to his mind was pity. Pity for the man who had wasted his life. Rake vowed right there that he'd never make the same mistake. He was going to live a full and happy life, hopefully with Rio by his side.

"He's not worth mourning, Rafael. He never cared about anything but himself."

He flicked a glance at Corsetti. "I know."

Corsetti lifted his eyes from the corpse and met Rake's. "I'll call us even, and our business done. As an apology for this."

Rake barely listened as he turned and tugged Rio away.

"Are you okay?" Rio asked.

"I think so. Just shaky."

Rio nodded and placed both hands on Rake's face. "Rake, I'm so sorry. If I hadn't come, he wouldn't have had the opportunity to come in here."

"He would've come in one way or another. It's not your fault."

"But—"

"Rake is right." Judge stepped up and pulled Rio into a tight hug. "He'd have either stormed in, catching us unaware, or picked us off as we exited. You actually gave us a minute to process what was happening."

Rio frowned as Judge set him back.

"I'm serious. As soon as he moved that gun from your head, I knew I had the shot."

"You shot the gunman?"

"I did." Judge turned Rio loose. "And you." He pointed at Corsetti. "I find it funny that you think you'd still be in any position to extort money from Rake when you're in federal custody."

Corsetti's smile was unpleasant. "Oh, there will be a lot of positions I could be in while in your custody, Marshal."

They all paused at the innuendo.

West coughed. "I hear the sirens. Let's head outside. Hands up, everyone. This is going to be a long night. Oh, and nobody talk to anyone from the FBI."

Chapter 32

Rake

The night was over, and Rake led a bleary-eyed Rio into his apartment where he threw his keys somewhere in the vicinity of the counter. He began to undress them both as they headed for the bedroom. He took off his shirt, then Rio's. Next, came the shoes and jeans, finally socks and underwear.

They fell together and wrapped themselves in a cocoon of blankets. Sharing one pillow, they stared into each other's eyes as Rake tangled his legs with Rio's.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I'm so fucking happy it's over."

Understanding and acceptance shone in Rio's eyes, and Rake's gaze skittered away.

"Rake, you don't have to talk about your dad if you're not ready, but I'll listen if you want to."

He swallowed, gripped Rio's callused hand, and rubbed his thumb over the skin. "I don't know how to feel," he croaked. "I told you the reason I couldn't pay Corsetti was because I had to back my dad's loans. With my winnings, they'll leave me alone for good, but Ray didn't give a fuck that they threatened to kneecap me. He didn't care that Corsetti wanted me." He stopped to take a deep breath, fighting tears. "I wish..."

Rio waited and smoothed the hair away from Rake's face.

"I just wish he'd wanted something better for himself." He lifted his gaze to Rio's eyes. "You know what I mean?"

Rio nodded. "I do." He kissed Rake's eyes closed and nipped at his nose and lips.

"He lived to impress a mob boss, not his son," he continued. "Everything he went into debt for was to make himself seem more successful than he was. A sports car, Rolexes, suits. He lived a pathetic life and died by a hit man's bullet." Rake pulled Rio closer. "I don't want to end up like him."

"You won't." Rio's voice caught, and he swallowed hard. "You've already proved you're not like him. You were willing to throw all that money and success away. Your father would never have done that." He kissed Rake's forehead. "You're a good person, Rafael da Silva."

He let the tears flow, as Rio held him close. "I love you, Rio." He let out a big sigh as he calmed. "I was so scared when I saw that gun to your head."

Rio shifted his legs and pulled Rake between them. "I was scared too. But I knew it'd all be okay."

"How?"

Rio grinned. "You'll think I'm nuts."

"Tell me." Rake poked him in the stomach.

"Fox told me. He said he knows I'll live a long happy life."

"But he's not psychic."

"Not really, no. Just intuitive. He listens to what the Great Spirit tells him."

Rake hummed. "Do you think it was him I met on the highway the night we met?"

Rio's face lit up. "Oh, I forgot to tell you, I asked him about that. Fox said it was the Crow Spirit. They told him you were coming," he blushed, "and that we'll live a long happy life together."

He grinned so wide, his cheeks hurt. "We will, huh?"

Rio's smile turned timid—a new look for him. So fucking sweet. "He was right, because I'm in love with you." He buried his head in Rake's chest. "Do you believe in that stuff?"

"Soul mates?" Rake considered that. "I suppose it's a possibility, but I also think relationships are about a lot of things. Hard work, for one. You taught me that."

Rio laughed and pinched him. Yelping, Rake grabbed his hands and trapped them between his legs.

"Well, hard work lesson numero uno. Don't go off to meet mobsters without telling me."

"Right. Never again, babe."

He kissed him and Rio moaned. They were exhausted but touch was healing, so they moved against each other's bodies, feeling and frotting in the warm darkness. Rake kissed everywhere he could reach, and eventually used his hand to make them both come. They fell asleep wrapped in each other's arms.

***

Rio

The next morning at breakfast, Judge stopped by to give them an update. "I'm taking Corsetti to an undisclosed location. I'll call you when I get a chance."

"Be careful. It was awful not knowing what happened to you when you disappeared."

"Don't worry. I check in regularly with West."

Rio nodded. "Good."

"And next time, Rake, maybe tell him what's going on." He turned. "I tried to make him see reason, Rio."

Laughing, he said, "I'm sure you did."

Rake pouted into his coffee cup. "Wait! Rio, how did you even know where we were last night?"

"The address was on the floor."

Rake's eyes bugged out. "You didn't."

Judge scratched his nose. "You weren't treating him fairly."

"He could have been killed!"

Judge scoffed. "So could you, or me, or West."

"That is not...help," he pleaded with Rio, who laughed.

After Judge left, they vegged on the couch and watched goofy comedies to decompress.

"So, what are we going to do?" He pushed Rake's hair off his forehead.

"You mean about us?"

"Yeah. I have to go home and work."

"Well, I get my money from winning the championship in a week, and since I don't have to pay Corsetti, I can take a break from boxing."

"Then, you'll come home with me?"

"Sure. If you'll have me. Oh." Rake sat up. "Is it too soon to live together? I could get an apartment or a house or something."

Rio laughed again and tugged him down for a kiss. "I don't know. What do you think?"

"I'm not opposed. I just don't want to get on each other's nerves too soon."

"How about this, you can stay with me while you look around and see if there's anything suitable. By then, if we feel okay, we can decide if you want to take it or stay with me."

Rake relaxed and kissed Rio's forehead. "Perfect."

Epilogue

Four years later

Rio

Lightning flashed and thunder rumbled overhead. Rio paused his carving when Molly the goat bleated next door.

"It's okay, girl. It's not a bad storm."

Molly continued to cry, so he put his tool down and took off his work gloves and goggles. He opened the door between barns and stopped with a huge smile.

Rake. Beautiful, idiotic, ridiculous Rake stood there holding an apple out of Molly's reach.

"Are you trying to pay her back for headbutting you?"

"I should, but no. I was trying to lure you away from your workbench."

They'd built the second barn and added a few horses and goats and even one happy pig. Rake surprised Rio by falling in love with horses. He now gave people riding lessons and coached a few guys at the gym in the next town in boxing and MMA. He'd said he wanted to retire from boxing before he lost brain cells from too many punches to the head.

Rio's business continued to grow. He'd made a few more bars, including a new one for Thorns.

Rake tossed the apple to the stubborn goat and walked over to him. "I do love it when you're all sweaty and covered in sawdust."

He put his arms around his waist, and Rio kissed him. "Yeah? I like it when you smell like hay from the new barn."

"Weirdo."

Rio laughed, and they ran to the house as the rain fell in sheets.

In the kitchen, Rake picked him up under the ass and plopped him on the counter. He kissed the rain from his cheeks and licked at the drops on his chin and neck.

"Mmm, my favorite drink."

Rake took Rio's mouth with a passion that stirred Rio's blood like nothing else. It had been a wonderful, crazy, insane four years, and Rio loved every minute of it. Even when Rake and his mother first met, and she'd proceeded to greet him with a kiss that rivaled a scene from a porno. He shook off that thought.

Soon, Rio was half-naked and bent over the kitchen table while Rake shuttled his cock in and out of his ass with deep, strong strokes.

Rio panted, groaned and came with a shudder. "Rake."

Rake sped up his thrusts and came inside him with a grunt.

"I'll never get tired of that," he said with a sigh.

Rio's heart swelled. "Me either."

As he pulled up his pants, the monitor clipped to his jeans lit up, and a baby's cry wailed through the speaker.

"It's your turn," they said at the same time.

Rake's lip punched out. "Rock, paper, scissors?"

"You are so fucking cute." Rio pecked his lips. "But no. I can't walk, I'll drop him."

"Okay, but you get the first morning diaper."

"Deal."

Joking around about their son, Xanth, was one of their favorite pastimes. What they said was the opposite of what they felt, often confusing people who didn't know them. In reality, Rio sometimes had to beg Rake to hand Xanth over so he could hold him.

Rake walked off with his pants still unbuttoned and his hair a mess, and Rio couldn't help but smile.

"Hey, Bon Jovi."

Rake poked his head out from the hallway, knocking into the family portrait that hung there. "Yeah?"

"I love you."

Rake gave Rio his favorite smile. The one reserved for those moments.

"I love you, too."

The End.

Thank you!

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About the Author

Este Holland is a writer and reader of all things Romance. She's also a treasure hunter, a word wizard, a lover, and a fighter. She was born and raised in WV, and now lives in Virginia. She works in marketing during the day. She began writing novels in 2012.

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