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“We know all about it.”
Maxwell crouched in front of them and knocked his knuckle on the plaster enveloping Tyler’s leg. “The Klah’Eel do the cast?”
“Yeah. It fucking itches.” Tyler bared his teeth as though that were the worst thing about his situation.
Maxwell chuckled lightly. “I thought so. Typical Klah’Eel work.”
“Did they mess it up?” Tyler’s snarl dropped, and his eyes widened. “Will it not—”
“It’ll heal just fine.” Maxwell stood and patted Tyler’s upper arm. “Their work is effective, just not comfortable. We’ll replace it with something lighter back in the clinic.”
“Thanks, Maxw—holy shit—” Tyler stared over Maxwell’s shoulder.
Maxwell and Garrett followed his gaze to the ship on the left, specifically to the men and women descending the gangway.
Older, grizzled, gaunt, and scarred—they looked like people who had spent a long time in the prison of a militant alien race. There were six of them, and they all looked dangerous as hell, but Garrett could see exhaustion and hope peeking out in their eyes.
Garrett didn’t recognize any of them, but Leon approached the big man in the front with a look of wonder.
“Kurt Buck?”
The large man’s dour features broke into a smile that showed him off to be quite handsome under the weathering time had done to him. “Little Leon? All grown up.”
“We never knew you’d made it.” Leon clasped Kurt’s hand tightly. “We thought you’d died in the crash.”
Kurt chuckled, deep and rumbling. “I don’t know that I made it, but I didn’t die.” He took a deep breath. “It’s good to breathe free air, even if it does smell like fish.”
Maxwell’s back hit Garrett’s chest, and Garrett caught his shoulders before he could trip. The man trembled under his palms, making Garrett’s heart clench. He dipped his lips to Maxwell’s ear. “What’s wrong?”
Maxwell swallowed so loudly Garrett could hear it. “I—” He stumbled back into Garrett as though trying to get away but not knowing the way out. “I need to—”
“Maxwell?” Kurt’s bright green eyes locked onto them, and his grizzled face softened into heartbreaking yearning. “Maxwell, baby.”
Before Garrett could think to do anything, Kurt pushed past Leon and headed straight for them. Maxwell pulled out from under Garrett’s palms but not toward Kurt—sideways and back, obliquely, as though he couldn’t move closer but he couldn’t quite move away either.
“Oh god, baby, I thought of you every single fucking day in there.” Kurt reached out for Maxwell.
Maxwell stood frozen, and Garrett’s heart twisted in on itself.
Maxwell finally swayed backward. “Kurt—”
But Kurt cupped Maxwell’s face in his huge palms and silenced him with a claiming kiss. Rage flared in Garrett’s chest, and he shoved it back down even as he shook with it. Kurt moaned and angled Maxwell’s head, and Garrett could see him plunge his tongue into Maxwell’s yielding mouth.
Rage. No, just jealousy—possessiveness. Fury. Goddammit, Garrett wanted the bastard’s hands off him!
“I missed you so much.” Kurt left off Maxwell’s mouth just long enough to mutter endearments against his bruised lips. “I’m so sorry for leaving you. I’m here now. I’ll never leave again.”
“Kurt—” Maxwell tried to speak, but again Kurt muzzled him with a forceful kiss, never mind that Maxwell’s arms hung dead at his sides and his eyes squeezed shut in nothing like rapture.
White-hot anger exploded into a growl in Garrett’s chest. He wasn’t jealous, he was protective, and he wasn’t going to stand for this. Garrett lunged forward and wrenched them apart. He ripped Kurt’s hands off Maxwell’s shivering body and pushed between them, nudging Maxwell safely behind him.
Once he’d broken them apart, Garrett swallowed his fury enough to speak in a normal voice with just an undercurrent of threat. “Maybe finish your introductions first.”
Kurt blinked his shock away quickly before narrowing his eyes. Still, he held out a hand. “You’re right. I don’t think we’ve met. Kurt Buck.”
Garrett glanced down at the hand as calculations zipped through his mind. He didn’t know this son of a bitch, and he didn’t want to touch him. But he also didn’t want to be the brute in this scenario, and he didn’t have any interest in a power struggle with some old soldier.
He shook his hand. “Garrett Twal.”
