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Oh, how those lovely dark eyes blazed.
“I’m sorry.” Nic held a hand up to his ear. “I didn’t hear your answer.”
“None,” Cam gritted out between clenched teeth.
“Right, none,” Nic said. “And Brady lost to who? Oh, that’s right, twice to Eli fucking Manning and once to a fucking backup.” Nic planed his arms like a flying bird and grinned. “Fly, Eagles fly.” Cam’s face reddened, the color in his cheeks even lovelier than his swirling black eyes. “Is that the Manning Face you’re—”
The rest of Nic’s words died, silenced by a whiskey-and-stout-laced kiss. Cam had flown across the cab, grabbed his chin, and shut him up faster than a judge’s gavel. The taste of his beer on Cam’s lips, on his tongue, was enough to blank Nic’s mind, to make him groan his want down the agent’s throat. Taking advantage, Cam shoved him back against the elevator wall and dove deeper into the kiss.
But Nic didn’t let him hold the upper hand for long. He wanted a deeper taste too. Hands tunneling through Cam’s dark hair, he forced his tongue between Cam’s lips and claimed a better taste of the mouth he’d wanted for months. And fuck him if it wasn’t better than his wildest dreams. Just like the hard body pressed against him and the other hard parts grinding against each other. If Nic kept going, there was only one place this would lead. Where his dreams always did these past months. But those dreams were just that, fantasies. Because reality, making itself known again with the ding of the elevator, stood between them.
Cam saved him the wasted willpower, pulling back first for breath, Nic’s jaw still held in his hand. “If you ever accuse me of having Manning Face again, I swear I will turn a keg of your best beer green.”
“I believe this is your floor, Agent Byrne.” Using one of the moves he’d learned as a Navy SEAL, Nic easily dislodged Cam’s hold, got behind him, and shoved him out of the elevator. But not before copping a feel of Cam’s firm, round ass. “Later, Boston.”
Cam grinned over his shoulder, dark eyes heavy-lidded. “Sooner, Price.”
Against his better judgment, Nic sure the hell hoped so.
JAMIE
Standing by the beach house bay window, Jamie ignored the ocean view in favor of the titanium and emerald circle around his left ring finger. A part of Aidan to carry with him every day.
Partners, always.
That was what they had promised a year ago and reaffirmed today, in vows written by their niece. Jamie smiled, remembering the perfect simplicity of Katie’s words.
I, Uncle Jamie, take you, Uncle Ai, to be my husband.
To make you smile big and make you happy forever.
I love you, and that seals the promise.
Jamie had addedPartners, always, as he’d slipped his ring on Aidan’s finger, voicing the promise he was making, swearing before God, the law, and all their gathered friends and family.
Autumn eyes glassy, Aidan had repeated the same vows back to him, added the same promise as he’d slid the ring on Jamie’s finger, and a watery laugh had escaped at the end when Katie giggled and clapped with glee.
Mel had pronounced them husbands, and they’d kissed, longer than was strictly polite, to boisterous applause.
So much happiness. Jamie didn’t know what to do with it all. His chest felt as if it would explode, too much love and joy trying to cram in there. When he’d left the NBA a decade ago, he’d never dreamed he would wind up here. Coaching the sport he loved, making a difference in kids’ lives. Out of the closet and showing off his fiancé—now husband—every chance he got. Having the love of two families who accepted him, of friends who would risk their lives for him, and of a brilliant, gorgeous man who had conquered demons, real and emotional, to love him.
To marry him.
His own eyes grew damp, the emeralds refracting like a prism.
He blinked the wetness back as strong arms circled him from behind. “You’ve been quiet since we left the reception,” Aidan said, propping his chin on his shoulder.
The contentment in his husband’s lightly accented voice, the Irish lilt escaping more freely, almost brought the tears back. As it was, Jamie struggled to force out words around the lump in his throat. “I’m happy.”
“Me too.” Aidan tangled his left hand with his, their rings clinking together. Emerald green and Carolina blue, side by side. Danny had lobbied for whiskey-colored topaz, but Aidan had demanded the blue, to match Jamie’s eyes. Jamie would have been fine with either, his ring on Aidan’s finger all he needed. “Thank you, Whiskey, for marrying me today.”
Jamie’s chuckle sounded as waterlogged as Aidan’s laugh during the wedding. “Hardly a trouble.”
“But I was, and I’m sorry for that trouble, for ever hurting you.” Using the hand in his, Aidan turned him around and cupped his cheek with the other. “You scared the hell out of me, Jameson Walker.”
Jamie lifted a hand, lightly holding Aidan’s wrist. “Scared you?”
“The prospect of loving you, of having this, then losing it, terrified me.” Aidan leaned forward, softly kissing his lips. “I didn’t make this easy on you. I hid behind my grief, my job, other... walls, but you chipped away at them.”
