Page 29 of Danger Close
Chapter Six
The suite Ricky occupiedin Ridge House had always been spartan—functional, not personal.A separate walk-in wardrobe, a compact en suite bathroom, a small kitchenette tucked into the corner of the open-plan lounge, and a narrow desk in a nook of the opposite corner that doubled as an office.The real luxury was the wraparound balcony that caught the mountain light in the morning and let the wind whisper through at night.
He’d never decorated.Just kept things clean, organized, lived in like he didn’t plan on staying.
But now Ezra’s presence filled the space in ways Ricky hadn’t expected.A toothbrush beside his own.A spare hoodie draped over the back of the couch.The faint scent of his cologne clinging to the sheets.And it had started to make Ricky think—about permanence, about the future, about what it would mean to make this suite not just a safehouse but a home.
It scared the shit out of him.But he was done lying to himself.
He stood in the doorway of the bathroom, one hand braced against the frame, and watched Ezra step out of the shower, steam curling around his frame.Water traced down the dip of his spine and over skin still marked by recovery—his once-compact muscle a little leaner now, carved sharper by trauma but no less captivating.His dark hair was wet, curling slightly at the ends, and he raked a hand through it absently as he toweled off.
Even battered, even healing, Ezra Navarro was impossible not to look at.
A fighter’s frame.Bronze skin marked with fresh scars and old ones layered underneath.That sharp jaw, those cheekbones that looked like they'd been cut from glass.His body spoke of history—grit, resilience, and hunger.
Ricky exhaled quietly and turned back into the bedroom.He’d been working with Blake on Ezra’s nutrition and strength programs, gently pushing to bring him back to full operational form.But even more than that, he was thinking about the day—soon, he hoped—when Sophia was found.When this man, this sharp, stubborn, scarred man, would be whole again.
He wanted all of it.
Ezra, still towel-wrapped, caught his gaze in the mirror.“You’re staring.”
“Can’t help it,” Ricky said, voice rough.“You’re hot.”
Ezra smirked faintly.“Still got it, then.”
Ricky’s chest ached.He wanted him.They’d made out like teenagers since Ezra had moved in, learning the maps of each other’s bodies with reverent, urgent hands.But they hadn’t crossed the line again—not yet.
And Ricky needed to tell him why.
That the night they’d spent together was Ricky’s first time.That he wanted more, wanted to take Ezra, to know what that felt like.But also needed to understand how to do it right, how to be what Ezra needed, because goddamn it, he wanted to please his man.
Probably some deep, psychological reason behind the hang-up, some flavor of inadequacy or guilt.But he didn’t care about the analysis.
He just knew he was in love.
And he wanted to be worthy of it.
Ezra stepped into the room, drying his hair, and Ricky felt his breath hitch.He was about to step forward and get a little closer to perfection himself, but his phone chimed, a particular sound that signaled they were to report to the conference room.
Soon, he promised himself.Soon he’d tell him.But for now, they had a meeting to attend.
The Ridge conference room felt like it always did—claustrophobic in the way only war rooms could be.The kind of space that remembered more than it recorded.Gray walls.Maps that whispered ghosts if you stared too long.
Ricky leaned against the back wall, arms crossed, trying to ignore the magnetic pull of Ezra seated just to his left.
The screen above the long table flickered to life.Normally, Bateman would be the one standing at the front, voice even, gaze sharp.Instead, it was Marsh, slightly rumpled, eyes bloodshot, looking like he hadn’t slept in days.
Ricky knew why.Knowing that Van’s daughter was out there somewhere alone, would have driven him crazy.He wouldn’t stop until he had her safe.
“We found her,” Marsh said without preamble.
Ezra didn’t flinch, didn’t move.But Ricky saw it, the micro-stillness.The breath he didn’t take.
“Sophia,” Marsh confirmed.“We verified the ID from a flagged NGO transfer video.Cross-referenced with encrypted files we cracked last week.She’s alive.”
Beside him, Ezra finally exhaled.Tight.Controlled.Ricky felt the echo of it in his own chest.
“But?”Ezra said, voice flat but ragged around the edges.“There has to be a ‘but,’ right?If it were just a custody form and a family reunion, we wouldn’t all be here playing Cyberwar Christmas with your damn monitors lit up like Times Square.”
