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“Fucking liar,” he growled even as the scent of barbecued meat filled the air.
“Got it.”
“Worth swore he’d take the recipe to his grave.”
Noah’s lips rose into a wicked grin and Rowe took a half step backward, his heart picking up its pace. “Worth just needed the right kind of incentive to cough up the recipe.”
“You blackmailed him.”
Noah shrugged. “I blackmailed him.”
“Your comrade in arms. Your squad buddy. The man who watched your back for two years. You blackmailed him!”
Shoving away from the wall, Noah dropped his arms to his side and started toward the kitchen. “If your conscience is giving you issues, then don’t eat the ribs.”
“Bastard,” Rowe muttered but followed Noah down the hall to the kitchen. Nerves still gnawed at him, but his hunger was winning out over his anxiety, and ribs—even if they weren’t Worth’s ribs—tended to overcome all of his reservations pretty damn fast.
As he walked into the kitchen, he found two full slabs covered in barbeque sauce, along with a mound of steak fries and a bowl of coleslaw. A rumble came from his stomach at the sight and there was no hiding it. Edging up to the ribs, he dipped his finger in the sauce and tasted it. His eyes rolled back as the flavors exploded on his tongue. Holy crap! Noah wasn’t lying. It was Worth’s family recipe.
“Oh man, I could fucking ki—” Rowe’s entire body froze as he realized what he was about to say, stopping the words just a little too late. He knew he’d said those exact words at least a dozen times to Noah in the past over trivial, stupid shit, but now...now it was different because he had kissed Noah. Again. And if he was really honest with himself, he wanted to do it again for a hell of a lot longer.
Noah fell back against the counter, cackling madly, causing Rowe’s cheeks to grow ruddy with embarrassment.
“Grab a plate, Ward,” Noah said when he could catch his breath. “It was a fucking kiss. The world didn’t end and nothing has changed between us.”
Rowe snorted, sat, and started digging into the food. Relief untangled frazzled nerves, but it didn’t explain away the short, sharp pain that knifed through his chest at Noah’s easy words. Didn’t matter. He and Noah were good. He also had ribs.
They ate in relative silence. The kitchen filled only with the sounds of happy moans and random comments. Noah talked a little about running to pick up a rental car so that he was no longer dependent on Rowe. He drove around the city, getting a feel for the area, and stopped to pick up a few odds and ends. He’d also purchased a new guitar. Rowe remembered many nights listening to Noah strumming music from the next room, his low voice murmuring random lyrics. Rowe suspected that his friend was also giving him some space to get his head on straight. Fuck knows he needed it.
Rowe leaned back in his chair and groaned, his hands resting lightly on his full stomach. He’d thought he’d never get Worth’s ribs again. They were as good as he remembered. Now he was so stuffed he wasn’t sure he’d make it to the couch to pass out for a couple hours with ESPN blasting out from the TV.
“You ran,” Noah said suddenly. He licked his lips, a smile slowly spreading across them as he pinned Rowe under his narrowed gaze. “You ran…again.”
Rowe flinched at his words. He should have known that Noah would pull something like this, the sneaky bastard. Fill him up with food so that he was relaxed and reluctant to move. “I didn’t fucking run.” Noah arched one of his golden eyebrows in question, prodding Rowe to continue. “It was a tactical retreat…to higher ground.”
Laughter burst from Noah, loud and joyous, filling the small house in a way that hadn’t occurred since Rowe had moved in. But that was Noah. Joy fell from the man like leaves from a tree, touching any who passed closed enough to him. Rowe couldn’t stop the smirk tugging at his mouth no matter how hard he tried.
“Tactical retreat? To higher ground? Is that what you call it?”
“Yep. Gave me the chance to access the intelligence I’d garnered about my opponent.”
Noah’s expression changed, losing its easy amusement to a seriousness that Rowe rarely saw. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table between them. “Never opponent. Nor adversary. Nor enemy.”
Rowe huffed. “That’s not what I meant.”
“But it is how you see me. I’m not trying to change you. Just trying to get you to face something that’s already there.”
“That I’m gay?”
Noah’s eyebrows jumped a little higher and Rowe couldn’t blame him. Anger had crept into his tone, making him sound defensive when he didn’t need to be. This was Noah. His best friend. He scrubbed a hand over his face, trying to get a handle on his emotions. Noah scrambled everything in his brain, making him crazy.
