Page 27 of The Cartographer

“Beats preparing TPS reports.”

Hart nods but looks distracted.

“You can ask me anything you want. I can almost guarantee I’ve been asked before, and I’m annoyingly hard to embarrass.”

He looks up, his head turning slightly so he doesn’t have to ask while looking at me straight on. “So you’re…into that, uh, stuff?”

My throat constricts with a held-back laugh. Given “that, uh, stuff” is basically my entire existence, I’d say yes. Also, it’s a good opportunity to poke the bear. “Yes. As are you.”

He gets that same look on his face he’d had when I suggested he wanted to suck cock. Ire covering up uncertainty and perhaps a feeling of too-close-to-home truth.

“How the fuck would you know?”

“Because you’ve already done it with me.”

Sure, Walter, pour gasoline on the fucking flames because that’s always a good idea.That’s what he looks like too, with flames about ready to shoot out his ears and nose. Probably more uncomfortable than a French Blonde, but I wouldn’t know.

“What are you—”

I tick the reasons off on my fingers. “You got on your knees for me. You gave me control of your orgasms. I think you liked it when you called me ‘sir’ at the bar. Shall I go on?”

“I’m not some sort of pussy.”

“I didn’t say you were. On the contrary, bottoms and subs are the strongest people I know. Good ones are worth their weight in gold. Also, female genitalia is amazingly resilient, unlike men’s, so I’ve always thought pussy was a ridiculous slur and I don’t appreciate its use.”

He looks decidedly disconcerted, so I decide to give him a break. It’s a lot to think about. “Enough about me and kink. What about you? What do you want to do when you grow up?”

His eyebrow quirks up, and he shakes his head slightly. “I was already doing it. Army. Infantry.”

“Why’d you stop?” Most people, if they’re lucky enough to find what they want to do with their lives, don’t ever let it go. Except for two reasons: love or money. Which one was it? I have my suspicions, but I want to hear it from him.

“My sister married one of my buddies from my unit, even though I told her not to. Military life isn’t easy, and if something happened to both of us, it would’ve killed her. She’d still have my mom and my other sisters, but they’re back east and Kendra wouldn’t want to move back there. So when my time was up, I didn’t sign up for another haul. Figured if I didn’t go into the reserves, I’d have more options. Thought I might be able to make better money outside the military than in it. Lamar was moving up faster than I was, had plans to be an officer, and then while he was on tour in Afghanistan, he got killed.”

Loveandmoney. Ideas are starting to come to me, though. If he’s trained with weapons and wants to make good bank, private security might be the way to go. Good help is hard to find in that arena, and I know of two firms where I could put in a good word and Hart would be as good as hired. I can picture him now: dark suit and darker sunglasses, talking into his wrist while he escorts some starlet on the red carpet. He’d be good at that. He’s personable and nice to look at, but can put on the veneer of a threatening heavy at the drop of a hat.

If my mind conjures an image of him stripping out of said suitcoat to reveal a leather holster strapped around his broad shoulders and how else I might put said holster to use…well, where’s the harm in that?

“So you like guns?”

He shrugs and looks sheepish. “Sure. The bigger, the better.”

“Do you have any?”

“No.” He’s emphatic, his clipped tone emphasized by a crisp shake of his head. “Can’t secure one in my truck, and there’s no way in hell I’d ask Kendra to keep one for me. Not with the kids around. I know there are safes and everything, but I wouldn’t be able to sleep at night wondering if my nephew figured out how to get into it. If anything happened to them…”

The faraway look in his eyes says his life wouldn’t be worth living. It probably wouldn’t be, as a man haunted by guilt and ruin. Unlike me, he’d probably never be able to tip the scales, to believe he’s done more good than harm. That’s how I’ve always justified my continued existence.

“Ever think about joining the infantry again?”

“If I could do it with the promise of not getting shipped out, I probably would. Not that it’s not still dangerous, but over there… Who’d look after Kendra?”

I bite my tongue on the “I would” I’d like to say. Because I would. A small price to pay to let Hart do what he’d really like to do. I’d be more than happy to give up what would be chump change to me for him to be happy. However, I get the feeling I’d get the angry eyebrows and another “fuck off.” Which I’m not in the market for. I’m in the market for more information.

“That the only thing that’s stopping you?”

“Yeah. I liked being in the Army. I was good at it. But it’s not worth the risk.”

“Do you ever think about having a family of your own?”

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