Page 66 of Warrior's Cross

Cameron smiled a little. “Where are you from?”

“Just outside of Topeka,” Julian answered without hesitation. “Kansas.”

Cameron nodded and took another sip of wine. That explained Julian’s complete lack of any accent. It also probably meant that all the culture and polish he exuded was self-taught. Cameron found himself impressed just by that little fact. He searched for more questions to ask.

“Did you go to college?”

“Several,” Julian answered with a growing smirk.

Cameron smiled wryly. “Yeah, I figured.” He paused. Now that Julian was actually answering his questions, he couldn’t seem to come up with any to ask. “Do you really not like my dogs?”

Julian huffed softly and looked away, watching as the dogs romped. “I... They’re always a welcome sight.”

Cameron’s nose wrinkled. “I think you might be stretching the truth there a little.”

“Yes,” Julian admitted with a nod.

“But you’ll tolerate them.”

“Yes,” Julian agreed with a suddenly tentative smile.

“They won’t get much bigger. A couple pounds, maybe,” Cameron explained. “Eight each, tops.”

“Projectile size,” Julian murmured with a glance at the dogs again.

Cameron’s eyes narrowed in warning, but Julian just smiled at him innocently. “I would never projectile your dogs,” he promised. “Not on purpose, anyway,” he amended.

Cameron snorted softly and took another sip of wine. “Are you always so soft-spoken because of your work?”

Julian blinked at him in confusion. “I... I don’t think so,” he stammered.

“What? You didn’t realize?” Cameron asked with an amused smile. “You’re so quiet most of the time, even when you’re talking to me. The loudest I hear you is when you’re fucking me as hard as you can.”

Julian actually blushed and looked away. It was much more obvious now that he was clean-shaven. He cleared his throat. “I’ve never really thought about it,” he admitted with an embarrassed shrug.

Cameron watched him for a long moment, taking a couple long swallows of wine. “Do you like your job?” It was an echo of the question Julian had asked him months ago.

Julian hesitated only briefly before nodding. “I’m good at it,” he claimed in a voice that was barely there.

“What are you always writing in that notebook of yours?”

Cameron asked, not allowing himself to linger on what being good at Julian’s job entailed.

“Notes,” Julian answered vaguely. “Notes for jobs and assignments,” he clarified as he dug out the little moleskin notebook from an inner pocket and set it on the counter between them. He left his fingers resting on top of it. “Sometimes I work things out better if I put them in front of me, instead of letting them rattle around in my head.”

Cameron looked down at the notebook, then up at Julian warily.

“You can read it, if you want,” Julian offered quietly, and he slid the notebook across the counter and removed his hand. “There are things you may not want to see.”

Cameron shook his head and gently pushed the notebook back toward Julian, who picked it up and slid it under his lapel into the pocket once more. Cameron argued with himself about the next question, but asked anyway. “Do you know things about me that I haven’t told you?”

Julian looked at him thoughtfully for a long time. “That’s a hard question to answer,” he murmured finally.

Cameron suddenly felt very uncomfortable. What if there was something abouthimin that notebook? “Hard because you can’t? Or hard because you won’t?” he asked, one hand gripping the edge of the counter.

“Hard because if I say no, I’d be lying, and if I tell you yes, you’ll assume the worst,” Julian answered bluntly. “I know that you tug at your ear when you’re nervous. I know that you talk in your sleep. I know that you like to fix my tie for me, even though you fuss about it. I know a lot of things about you that you haven’t told me.”

Cameron kept his hand clamped on the counter to keep from lifting it to tug at his ear just as Julian said he would. He looked at his lover evenly, a little annoyance creeping into his eyes. “That’s a lovely, roundabout sort-of answer,” he said before sniffing. “I talk in my sleep?” he asked hesitantly.

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