Page 33 of Stryker

John sat silently for several minutes,and Stryker wished he knew what the man was thinking. Then Johnstood up suddenly and began pacing, and seemed to be mutteringunder his breath. He’d stop for a moment, then shake his head andcontinue pacing. This carried on for several minutes before heturned to Stryker and he smiled brightly. “I’ve had enough ofwalking down memory lane for one day. How about we cook dinner thenI’ll find us something to watch?”

The sudden turnabout in mood tookStryker by surprise but he went along with it. The man was stillprocessing what had happened to him, and if this was his way ofdealing, then fine. For now.

“Sure. If that’s what youwant.”

“I know there’s gotta be abaseball game on somewhere. It’s summer, after all,” Johnsaid.

So we’re going down thedistraction route. Need to keep an eye on thissituation.

“Sounds like a perfectplan. Let’s go. How do you feel about grilled steak? Gator'sapartment has a grill built right into the stovetop, and I’d liketo try it out,” Stryker said.

“I could be talked into asteak. How about I make us some baked potatoes?” John was acting asif his world hadn’t been turned around, spat out by the universe,then trampled into the ground by a pair of size fourteenboots.

“Now I’m getting hungry,”Stryker teased as he stood and reached out for John’s hand. Johndidn’t hesitate. His calloused hand clutched Stryker’s and hesqueezed it, then let go.

“This meal won’t makeitself. Best get started.” John went to the kitchen, Strykerfollowing. They grabbed the steak, potatoes, and a couple of beersand began preparing dinner. It felt natural doing this with John,and Stryker enjoyed every minute.

He’d called Brick, who’d said the newinformation could wait until the morning. There was nothing anyonecould do right now. So Stryker would enjoy the prized moments whilethey lasted because some day he’d no doubt return to his priorlife—one that wasn’t as appealing anymore.

After the food was eaten and thedishes cleaned, the two sat on the couch, watching the baseballgame in comfortable silence. It was the ninth inning, and the gamewould be over soon, meaning another night of him sleeping on thecouch.

John got a little fidgety and hisattention to the game seemed to drop. Stryker wondered what wasgoing through his mind. He found out soon enough.

“Don’t take this the wrongway,” John murmured.

“That’s never a good wayto start a conversation,” Stryker said uneasily.

“It’s not all that bad. Iwas just wondering if you’d like to, or maybe if you’d want to, um,sleep with me tonight in the bed.”

“Really?”

“I don’t mean I’m tryingto have sex with you or anything. I just, it’s been a hard day, andI know the nightmares are going to be fast and furious tonight, andI was hoping.”

“You got it. I promise tobe an angel and keep my hands to myself.”Unless you change the rules. Then all bets areoff.

“Okay.” John laughednervously. “Now that that’s settled, I’m going to get ready forbed.”

“I’ll check everything islocked up tight and shut everything down for the night. I’ll bethere in a minute.”

John nodded and walked into thebedroom.

Stryker had never turned off abaseball game so fast in his life. He did his checks and by thetime he reached the bedroom, John was already in bed. Strykerquickly stripped down to his boxer briefs and crawled in besidehim.

“How do you want this? Meon the opposite side of the bed or somewhere in the middle?”Stryker didn’t want to make assumptions.

“How about we meet in themiddle?”

“Soundsperfect.”

Stryker moved over and opened his armsfor John, who didn’t hesitate to lay his head down on Stryker’schest. Stryker pulled up the covers and reached over to turn offthe table lamp. It wasn’t long before he could hear John’sbreathing even out as he fell asleep. He’d had a long, arduous dayand had to be exhausted.

Stryker couldn’t help himself andgently pulled the man tighter into his arms. If this was all hehad, all he was given, he would take it happily and never regret amoment because, for the first time in his life, Stryker felt wantedand not simply needed. And that was a gift that he’d spend his lifenever being able to repay.

CHAPTER TWELVE

John

John was warm and felt morecomfortable than he’d been since the day he was shot. And as thefog of sleep lifted, he realized why. He wasn’t alone. In fact, hewas lying in the muscled arms of a man who was quickly becoming themost important person in his life.

---