Page 43 of Fool’s Gold

Jack sucked in his cheeks. He wouldn’t have called, and he knew it. “That’s different. I’m supposed to be resourceful. You’re a civilian.”

“Yeah. Well.” Matt shrugged.

Someone at the next table stood up. The guy had to have been six foot four, and built like he crushed cars for a living—with his bare hands. He was white and pale and completely bald. “Did you just say you worked for Besse?”

Matt sighed and managed to give him a tired smile. “I used to.”

The guy curled his lip. “You’re that little maggot CEO.” He wound up and swung at Matt.

Jack was moving before he could engage his brain.

One second, he was sitting and mourning what he could have had with Matt. The next, he had the guy face down on the patio, hands zip-tied behind him, and had the screams of his fellow lunch goers echoing in his ears. “What the hell kind of coward punches a man on crutches, huh?”

Irvine yanked Jack away as Morales took over. Adrenaline coursed through Jack. He wanted to do more than just give this guy a bloody nose.

“You have the right to remain silent.” Morales sounded almost bored as he read the bald guy his Miranda rights. “Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.”

Jack took a breath and turned to face Matt. “Look. I left. It was wrong. But I’m not leaving you alone again. “ He picked up the two cat carriers and turned to the server, who’d just dropped their order at the sight of the mayhem before her. “We’ll be taking that to go, ma’am. I’m taking my boyfriend home.”

CHAPTERNINETEEN

Matt’s headspun as the rideshare whisked him, Jack, and (apparently) two confused cats back to the apartment. He wasn’t sure what to think. Jack had come back to... compel him to adopt a cat? It didn’t make much sense. Neither did the idea that Jack would have come back for him, whatever he might have said about having been wrong and being here now.

Maybe Matt had hit his head when he fell yesterday, and he was still lying on the kitchen floor.

The grocery store happily delivered cat food, litter, and toys. They also delivered human food, which Jack had ordered when he took a look at Matt’s kitchen.

“I know Norah didn’t leave you with an empty fridge like this.”

Matt found himself blushing. “Everything had gone bad by the time I got home. She’s doing fine, but I didn’t want her and Samaira here at the house alone, you know? It’s her home, but I wanted her to be safe.”

“I get it.” Jack set up facilities for the cats where he thought it would be appropriate, and the little fur balls started exploring. “It’s just as well for now. I feel like we’ve got a lot to talk about, and maybe it’s best if we have some privacy while we do it.”

Matt looked away, only to find one of the little cats staring back at him. It was mostly black, with some white bits on the chest and paws. When Matt made eye contact, the cat walked up and butted his head up against Matt’s hand. Matt obediently petted him, and found his words.

“What’s to say?” He looked back up at Jack while the cat rumbled with pleasure. “I know I was just a job. It’s okay. I’m not here to push something on you. And maybe I got too attached. It’s not your fault.”

“Kind of is though.” Jack smirked a little. “I mean yeah, our ‘thing’ was never supposed to be more than temporary. But that’s on me for thinking I could seriously go through life and never get attached.” He reached out and took Matt’s free hand.

The tuxedo cat squeaked at him but didn’t move away.

Jack took a breath. “I didn’t have the kind of close family you and Norah made for yourselves. Don’t go feeling bad or anything, it’s fine, but when I joined up with the Agency, they found that I fit a very specific skill set. Which was fine, you know? They had me killing people. Which I was good at, but I was already not exactly great when it came to forming attachments and well...”

“You didn’t want to get close to people you might have to kill.” Matt gave his hand a squeeze. He could wrap his head around that easily enough. It didn’t take a master’s class in psychology.

Jack grimaced. “With the Agency, I trusted the people calling the shots. Until I didn’t, you know? Then I got out, and went to work for Five Star. Less killing people, more protecting people. But I’m still a grown-ass man. I still don’t do the whole attachment thing. I didn’t think Icouldget attached, you know? I have friends, and I care about them, but it’s not like I sit there and pine for them when I’m away.

“Going back to Denver when the contract was terminated was my normal. It was almost instinct—like when you automatically drive your car toward the airport without thinking, before you’ve had your coffee in the morning. But it hurt. It was like an itch under my skin. You didn’t say you wanted me to stay, and I get that the circumstances weren’t exactly great for that sort of thing, what with you being unconscious and all but it never occurred to me that you might want me to. Like, at all. So I should have called and we should have talked it out. And maybe you should have too. And maybe neither one of us was ever going to be capable of that. But we’re here now. We’re safe now. And I’d really, really like to kiss you.”

Matt made a split-second decision. He could hold onto his hurt, or he could enjoy the moment. He’d spent enough time in pain, physical, mental, and emotional, for things that weren’t his fault. None of it had gotten him anywhere. It was time to try something new.

“I think that’s up to Meowstopheles here.”

Jack grinned and leaned in. Meowstopheles fled, presumably to go find his sister, and Jack helped Matt into the bedroom.

Matt decided to take another chance.

CHAPTERTWENTY

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