Page 30 of Set Fire to This Cardhouse

Toby trusts him. As little as he knows him, he does trust him.

“It’s just never advisable.” Mike scoots back on the bed, leaning against the wall with his thighs splayed wide, bare feet propped up on the mattress. Toby doesn’t let his eyes linger.

“Thanks for the free lesson; I’ll take it under consideration.”

In all honesty, though, Mike’s got a point. Mike also looks like he’s settling in for the foreseeable future. Boxers in hand, Toby turns, and it’s not his imagination that Mike’s gaze drops, then tracks all the way up, from the towel to Toby’s face. Did it get warmer in here?

“For your information” —Toby busies himself with his clothes, and at this point, he’s really just stalling— “it was my brother and niece.”

Mike’s expression relaxes, and it just shows how tense he was before. “The one who likes vampires? Looks a bit young for it, doesn’t she?”

“So I keep telling her father.” Oh, to hell with it—Toby has never understood guys who are shy about changing in front of others. It’s body parts; everyone’s got them. He drops the towel and, his back to Mike, steps into the boxers. “Unfortunately, my brother was also a bit young to be a father, and his sense of responsibility is underdeveloped. He was one half of those teenage pregnancies that gets tongues wagging.”

And unlike Matt and Toby’s parents, Anne’s parents abandoned their daughter. They hadn’t even found it in them to show up to her funeral. Waste of space, the two of them.

After shrugging into his shirt, Toby turns around. This isn’t over, not quite, but Mike’s values are in the right place. That’s something. It’s a lot.

Mike is watching Toby’s hands.

Inhaling, Toby quickly finishes buttoning up his shirt the rest of the way. Definitely warmer in here. Once he’s fully clothed, he shoves his hands into his pockets and tries for a smile that Mike returns.

“Hey.” Mike sits up. “We’ve got a couple of hours before we need to check out, and our flight’s not until the afternoon. We could use the time to buy a present for your niece. I’m sure we’ll come across a tourist shop willing to sell us something pink and sparkly.”

Pink.

Mike did listen in on last night’s phone conversation.

“I don’t usually bring her presents.” Toby shakes his head. He withdraws his hands from his pockets and rubs them over the denim of his pants before he picks up where he left off, avoiding Mike’s clear gaze. “I don’t want to lie about where and how I got them.”

“Then don’t lie. Just tell her it’s a secret and that you will explain it to her one day, soon.” Mike’s tone implies it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Since he doesn’t know Haley, he can’t possibly know just how many questions she’s able to fire at Toby in a very short time span—more hits per minute than an executive assistant touch-typing, seriously.

“Soon?” Toby echoes. “Like when?”

“Whenever you’re planning to retire from active field work.” Mike shrugs, smiling. “By then, she should be old enough to understand that it has to be a secret. And she’ll have an entirely new appreciation for the presents that you bought for her all over the world.”

They’re not supposed to tell anyone—now or later.

“What about you?” Toby asks. “Do you have relatives who know? Friends?”

A partner? If the way Mike reacted to the possibility of Toby cheating on a family is any indication, it would be taken for an insult. There is no need.

Mike is quiet for a few seconds, and maybe this is getting too far into personal territory. Then again, Mike went through Toby’s stuff, and fair is fair. Toby keeps silent, waiting.

“Not as such,” Mike says a moment later. “My sister Mary has a general idea, but no specifics.”

Mary. Marianne, Margaret, Mariah—Toby stops. It’s none of his business; he isn’t supposed to know that Mike has a sister, and Mike isn’t supposed to know Toby has a brother and a niece. They aren’t supposed to know anything that isn’t directly relevant to the way they work together.

Toby can never explain Mike to Matt. He isn’t supposed to.

“I hate it, you know. The secrecy.” Toby doesn’t put much force into it because there’s really no one he can blame. It just is what it is. “I know why it’s necessary, and it protects us, and our families. But I hate it.”

Three heartbeats pass before Mike says, “I know.”

And the thing is, he probably does.

Toby opens his mouth to say something, then reconsiders and shrugs his shoulders, managing a weak smile. The sun’s glare seems a bit softened, less aggressive. “Yeah, well.”

Another quiet moment drags by while they’re simply watching each other.

---