Page 14 of Doing Life

“Well, yes, but…” He closed his eyes, against the heating of his cheeks. Sloan took him right back to being in the service, back to watching what he said, what he meant. “Jesus.”

Lance wasn’t used to being out of the closet. He wasn’t sure there was going to be a closet ever to be in or out of, because he wasn’t sure he was going to want to have sex with anybody ever again. He didn’t know who he was anymore.

He was learning how to be a new…him.

“So my question still stands, and there’s no one else in this coffee shop right now, and the barista girl’s in the back. So, answer me. Do you still love me? If the answer is no, I’ll go back to Santa Fe. I’ll leave you alone. I won’t bother you again. If you’re not still in love with me. I’ll go.” He could hear the truth ringing in Sloan’s voice, truth and hope and pain.

This was it. This was his out.

All he had to do was pretend to look in Sloan’s general direction and say no.

One word.

One syllable.

Two tiny, little letters.

He sighed and swallowed hard.

“Yes.”

Chapter Six

“Sloan. Come into my office, huh?”

“Yessir.” Shit. The police chief, who was a big, buff guy named Frank Martin, rarely called someone into his office. Sloan had learned a lot about his coworkers in the last three weeks, and he tried not to wince as Jeff closed the door and waved him to a chair.

“Is something wrong with my work, sir?” he asked, taking the damn bull by the horns. He knew there was nothing wrong, dammit. So this had to be about something personal.

“No. Nothing wrong at all. You are by the book all the way. Ex-military like me. We always toe the line.”

“I certainly try.” Not that there was much chance to screw up around this place. Not much in the way of crime. “So what’s this about, if I may be blunt?”

“I just want to get to know you a little, Sloan. I’ve barely seen you since you started work.”

He raised his eyebrows, but the ball was in Frank’s court. He didn’t want to misstep. Not even a bit.

“So, I hear rumors that you’re not here to stay.”

“Is that so?” Shit. Had someone up in Santa Fe blabbedthat he was just on a leave of absence? The only person here he’d told that was Lance.

“It is. Now, as your boss, I know that’s none of my business. But as someone who’s concerned about the guys he works with, I just wanted to touch base with you.”

“Well, that’s—” He drew in a breath. “Thank you for being honest. I’ll admit, I have no idea how long I plan to be here. But I’ll do a good job for you.”

“I appreciate that. Do you want to tell me why you’re here in town?”

“I’m not sure.” He met the man’s frank gaze with his own. “How do you feel about LGBTQ folks?”

“I live my life, you live yours, Sloan. I don’t give a hoot one way or the other.”

“Then I’ll be honest. I’m here for a man. A soldier, recovering through the project at the Rocking W.” Whew. That felt like a weird sort of weight off him. Just to say it.

Frank blinked but nodded. “That’s intense. How’s he feel about that?”

“The jury is still out. He asked me to leave, but by the end of our first real talk, he admitted he still had feelings for me.” He could really be screwing himself, talking to Frank like this, but something told him the guy was genuine. That he wasn’t out to get him.

“Well, then, I wish you all the luck in the world, man. Seriously. Matt and Luke LeBlanc are good men, and Rory McConnell— that’s Luke’s husband? He’s a solid gold bastard, but smart and willing to move the earth for the ranch.”

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