Page 30 of The Beautiful Mess

“I wanted to look presentable when meeting with Vinny about the lawsuit. Then I threw myself into work and didn’t make time to change.”

“But did you eat?” Keegan asked.

“The crew brought me lunch, but I worked through dinner. I’ve procrastinated on paperwork for too long and needed to dig myself out of the hole. I made a big dent today, and I feel productive.” Kerry stepped between Keegan’s thighs and cupped his face. “Not as good as this makes me feel, though.”

“Thank you for riding to the rescue,” Keegan said.

Kerry brushed back the hair from Keegan’s forehead and traced the shell of his ear. “I’ll always be there for you. No matter what.”

The microwave dinged, and Keegan was ready to forget all about food until he remembered the way Kerry’s stomach had growled.

Kerry retrieved the mashed potatoes, gave it a vigorous stir, and looked down into the bowl. “Maybe I should reheat these a little longer.”

“I’d eat them frozen if it means your shirt comes off faster.”

Kerry’s head snapped up, and a wicked smile spread across his handsome face. “Yeah?” He set the bowl on the counter and went to work on his shirt buttons. “You can gawk while I heat them up some more.” Kerry peeled the shirt off and tossed it on the island but remained out of touching range.

Keegan watched the play of muscles under that gorgeous, inked skin as Kerry put the dish back in the microwave and shut the door. Either it took more muscles than he realized to push buttons on an appliance, or Kerry was flexing for show. Keegan just knew he wanted to touch that warm skin. “Come over here.”

Kerry looked over his shoulder, a hint of a wicked smile curving his lips. “Huh-uh. I’ll burn the potatoes.”

“Then they likely didn’t need to go back in the microwave,” Keegan said. “Come over here.” When Kerry didn’t make a move to comply, Keegan pulled his shirt over his head and dropped it on the island.

Ding.“Dinner’s ready.”

Kerry made no move to open the microwave. He stalked the short distance between them and gathered Keegan in his arms. Kerry’s body heat enveloped him as his kiss devoured Keegan’s mouth. Their hands moved again, sliding over bare skin and taut muscles. Keegan learned the sharp curve of Kerry’s shoulder blades and the smooth flesh between them. He traced the lines of ink he couldn’t see and learned the surprising places that made Kerry gasp, like the sensitive skin under his armpits or the area just under his rib cage. Keegan wanted to move his hands around to learn the curve of Kerry’s chest, but he didn’t want to draw away from him to have room for exploration. Damn, he could really get used to having Kerry’s body against his, over his, and hopefully inside his soon.

As if the universe had plans to fuck him over, a phone rang shrilly from the vicinity of Kerry’s pants.

A savage growl erupted from Kerry’s lips when he broke their kiss. “No, no, no.” He took a few breaths while the phone rang a second and third time. Kerry lifted the phone from his pocket and accepted the call. “Hart.” His gruff voice betrayed his displeasure, and Keegan felt sorry for the person on the other end of the connection. “Holy shit, Curtis.” Kerry stepped away from Keegan and headed out of the room. “I need to change clothes, but I’ll be there as soon as possible.” Kerry disappeared out of sight, but Keegan could easily hear his end of the conversation as Kerry gathered more information on his way upstairs. “I’m only twenty minutes away.” Kerry continued discussing the equipment and tools he wanted on site.

Keegan grabbed his shirt and pulled it on over his head, and then he returned the leftovers to the refrigerator. Kerry returned to the kitchen by the time he finished, and he looked at Keegan with genuine regret. “Maybe the universe is telling us something,” Keegan said.

“The universe is telling us that semitruck drivers shouldn’t drink their weight in beer and then get behind the wheel of a deadly weapon,” Kerry said. A wry expression formed on his handsome face. “Bet good ole Frank wishes he hadn’t sent me that email this afternoon.”

“Sounds like an interesting story.”

“And I’ll tell you all about it later.” Kerry snagged Keegan around the waist and pulled him in close for a quick kiss. “You and I are just getting started. I’ll call you later if I finish the job at a decent time.”

“Bye, Betty,” Keegan called out. “It was nice meeting you.” She cracked open one eye but otherwise didn’t acknowledge him. “She hates me.”

Kerry chuckled. “Betty’s crazy about you. She just might not know it yet.” He walked Keegan to his truck and kissed him one last time. “Be careful going home.”

“You be careful too.” Keegan got in his truck but poked his head back out and hollered, “And make sure you eat something.”

He waited for Kerry to back out first before following. When Kerry reached the road, he turned on the emergency light bar on top of his truck. Keegan followed at a slower pace, and it wasn’t long before Kerry’s truck disappeared. He hoped the interruption wasn’t an omen of things to come.

Only the magnitude of the emergency call kept Kerry’s thoughts from wandering to Keegan and the scary territory they’d entered. An inebriated semitruck driver had fallen asleep while driving over a busy bridge. He’d jerked awake when the front right side of his bumper scraped along the side of the bridge, overcorrected, and lost control of the semitruck hauling a trailer full of goods. He’d gone left of center and crashed through the steel-enforced concrete barrier rail on the opposite side of the bridge. The only thing that kept the truck from plummeting hundreds of feet into the river below was the trailer wedged between the bridge’s steel cantilever arms. According to Curtis, his crew captain, the truck cab was dangling over the side of the bridge. Rescuing the driver meant lowering someone down to the driver’s-side door and hauling the man back up. Kerry was that someone.

It seemed ole Frank Tallus wasn’t so damn concerned about nepotism when his new buddy Chuck couldn’t get the job done. Frank had given him a bullshit excuse just hours ago about why Hart’s Creek Township was looking at other companies to fill their contractual needs. Now wasn’t the time for Kerry to point out the error of Frank’s ways, but they’d definitely have a lot to discuss after he got the driver to safety and his team prevented the semi from plunging into the river. Traffic was backed up for a few miles, but Kerry’s emergency lights and assistance from responding officers helped him get to the barricaded bridge without incident. Several news vans were parked nearby, and their crews were giving live reports. The number of officers and crew on the bridge testified to the severity of the ordeal. An officer moved his patrol car long enough for Kerry to drive up to the action.

He parked near Curtis’s massive rescue truck and greeted his crew, who were busy implementing the tasks their captain had assigned them. Curtis had broken their men into two teams—one to rescue the driver and the other to haul the vehicle safely back onto the bridge. They probably wouldn’t have needed Kerry at all if not for the bit about someone dangling over the side of the bridge to rescue the driver. Kerry had a lot of experience with rappelling, climbing, and skydiving, so heights didn’t usually bother him. He’d never hung from a harness over the side of a bridge, but he trusted his crew implicitly. Awareness made his scalp tingle, and Kerry knew without looking that Chuck was nearby. He’d felt the weight of the man’s hateful stare enough to pick it out of a crowd, but it seemed especially malicious beneath the floodlights his crew had rigged to illuminate the scene.

“Are you about ready for me?” Kerry asked Curtis.

“Almost, boss.” He glanced up from double-checking the rigging on the harness Kerry would wear. “I thought ole Frank and Chuck were going to come to blows.”

Kerry grinned and clapped him on the shoulder. “Can’t wait to hear all about it. I think this rescue calls for a trip to the Greasy Spoon after we leave here.” It would be hours before they cleared the accident, so their options would be limited. The Greasy Spoon catered to long-haul truckers, emergency responders, and anyone unfortunate enough to work the night shift. It might not be his favorite place to eat, but they served strong coffee, crispy bacon, and waffles the size of Kerry’s head. “My treat,” he added.

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