Page 163 of Naughty Dreams
“You can’t assume anything.”
“Roy.” Tina, the other gatehouse guard, elbowed Luis aside. She waved a clipboard at Roy. “Here are the people allowed in, no matter what, no questions asked.”
She thrust it at him. The list had Moss and DJ’s signatures. Roy was at the top of the list, followed by Sy, Trey and Hal. Then a handful of others. Two of the names made his lips twitch, fighting back a reluctant smile.
Hanging the clipboard back to Tina, he gave both security people a nod. “My apologies.”
“It’s okay. You look…wound a little tight. Tighter than usual, I mean. Are you okay?”
“Yes, thank you. Is Marjorie still here?”
“Yes, but she’s off premises right now. DJ had a driver take her into Asheville for a craft fair.”
Roy nodded, paused. “Tell me. Have Ed Quinn or Sam Worthington actually ever been here?”
“No, but DJ keeps hoping. That’s why they stay on the list.” She gave him an appraising look. “Come to think of it, you look a bit like EdandSam. A composite of sorts.”
“Sloppy seconds, as always. Story of my life.”
She laughed. “Good to see you, Roy."
As he drove past the gate, three other names on the list brought more somber reflections. Steve, Tal and Pete. The list had been updated recently, so DJ had done it intentionally. He didn’t want to remove their names, the same way a widower didn’t remove his wedding ring, not willing to let the connection go.
Milton gave him a totally out of character hug before he regained his composure and directed Roy to the pool. DJ’s acoustic guitar and notepad were at one of the poolside tables, while he floated around in swim shorts on the unicorn raft.
He was wearing his fish necklace, and Roy saw Gilda’s charm bracelet with the trio of beaded ones DJ liked to wear. Roy had on hisBe Kindbracelet today. They were both in a nostalgic mood. DJ’s hands were folded on his flat stomach, and he wore his sunglasses. From his relaxed position, he was asleep.
The bruising on his abdomen looked better, a waterproof bandage over the surgical site where they’d had to go in and repair the damage. His two fingers were held with a brace and white tape.
DJ’s hair was damp, so it was either okay for him to be swimming, or he’d decided it was.
Going on an impulse, Roy shed shoes and socks, jeans and shirt, and entered the water in his black boxers. Moving like a shark, he slid closer to the raft, stalking his prey. When he was close enough, he prepared to slide him off the raft. Very gently.
Instead, he got a face full of water as the kid rolled off the raft and right into his arms. He managed to knock Roy off balance and dunk him for a few seconds.
Roy allowed it, because no way was he going to wrestle with him. When he surfaced, he pushed away. “That was taking advantage of your invalid state.”
“You bet. Gotta milk this stuff as long as you can.” Though DJ’s voice was casual, his eyes weren’t. He’d wanted to do more in that brief embrace, and so had Roy.
Neither of them had. The pool might as well be lined with eggshells.
As Roy wiped water from his face, DJ moved into the shallower end, his chest hair gleaming and skin beaded with drops. He sat down on one of the steps, breathing heavily, which made Roy worry, but his grin was genuine. In just the few days he’d been gone, DJ’s hair had grown out some more.
“Did you grab yourself a beer from the bar?”
“I might later.” Roy trudged over to him and took a seat on the steps as DJ leaned back, stretching an arm out along the concrete lip of the pool. “So the guardhouse told you I was coming?”
“Would they dare not to? Luis said you about ripped him a new one for letting you in without verifying you were on the list.” DJ gave Roy a long look. “How could you think you wouldn’t be, Roy?”
Two rare situations in the same timespan. DJ had gotten the jump on him, and he’d asked a question that left Roy at loose ends on how to answer it.
He was used to being sure of how something would play out. The way DJ was looking at him, so serious, his eyes hooded, wasn’t giving him anything.
“I mean, you saved my life,” DJ added. “You’ll always be on that list, man. Always.”
“Yeah. Of course.”
“You know…” DJ ran his palm back and forth over the surface of the water, watching the resultant ripples. “Henry isretiring this year. It was already in the works, but he says he’s getting too old for this crazy shit. I need a replacement. That boyfriend who tried to shoot me, that wasn’t even related to Paul. And I get all sorts of weird mail. Moss wants me to do another world tour, and there’s a shitload of security stuff for that which could use eyes like yours.”
