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“Pack a bag. Come to my place. Spend it with me.”
Bailey pulled back, disbelief in his eyes. “I just meant a date. You don’t have to—”
“Bailey?”
“Hmm?”
Henri brushed their lips together and whispered, “I want you to come to my place, eat my food, and sleep in my bed.”
“Then I’ll be there. But Henri? I feel like I should warn you. Those walls of yours? I’m going to climb them. And those bridges? I’m going to be the one who burns them down.”
The look in his eyes told Henri that Bailey meant every single word he’d just said, and all of Henri’s greatest hopes and fears rushed to the surface.
Because he’d never had anyone look at him that way before. As though he were everything Bailey had ever been waiting for. As though he’d said all the right things, even though he felt like he’d screwed it all up somehow.
All that Henri could hope for now was that if, and when, this all went up in flames, Bailey would still want him when the ashes finally settled.
Chapter Five
CONFESSION
Fighting with my brother
is our version of “I love you.”
THE WIND WAS howling the following morning, as Bailey pulled his Camaro into the back lot of Deb’s diner, where most of the cops from his precinct gathered after shift when they wanted half an hour to themselves to wind down.
It was just now turning eight thirty, and after debating all of yesterday and last night, he had begrudgingly agreed to meet up with Sean just as he said he would. He wasn’t looking forward to it, though, and as he shoved the car door open and the sharp bite of the wind slapped him in the face, Bailey grimaced and reached for the zipper of his department jacket.
As he tugged the thing up, he wound a scarf around his neck and burrowed his chin in deep. He slammed the door shut and hurried over to the sidewalk that led between two buildings to the front door of the diner. He was cold, hungry, and tired, and the last thing he wanted to deal with this morning was Sean and his pious opinions.
So Henri was a little rough around the edges, had a few brushes with the law to his name. It wasn’t like he’d hidden that from Bailey, nor had he lied when Bailey had asked him about it. Plus, it wasn’t as if Henri could exactly keep it from Bailey. He was a cop, for God’s sake, and Henri’s record was right there for him to see. So this holier-than-thou routine Sean was pulling was more than a little irritating, not to mention insulting.
Did he really think Bailey would hook up with someone who was seriously bad news? That wasn’t exactly his style. He usually gravitated toward the good guys. The “take them home to your family and marry them” kind of guys.
Shit, Xander had been right on with that one, hadn’t he? In the past, the one thing that Bailey had required to make him think about getting into bed with someone was the remote possibility that there could be a future. But one look at Henri and he hadn’t cared what tomorrow would bring. Bailey just knew he wanted Henri any way he could have him.
That had since changed, however. Now, he wanted Henri in every way. As Bailey pulled open the door to Deb’s, he scanned the sea of familiar faces until he saw his brother, who had snagged a booth in the back corner and already had a pot of coffee and two mugs sitting on the laminate table in front of him.
Bailey weaved his way through the tables, acknowledging several of the other guys with a quick wave or nod, and when he finally reached Sean and stopped, his brother looked up.
Jesus, he looked rough. Tired, bloodshot eyes. A couple days’ scruff. His suit jacket was crumpled to shit, and his tie was half undone. Every time Bailey saw Sean like this, he couldn’t help but see their father staring back at him, and that scared the hell out of him.
“Sean,” Bailey said as he slid into the seat opposite his brother.
“Bay, hi.”
Okay, so it seemed Sean had simmered down a little since yesterday, or maybe he’d just run out of gas, finally hit the “I’m too fucking tired to care anymore” wall. Either way, Bailey was happy he wasn’t face to face with a scowl.
“Hi,” Bailey said as he unwound his scarf and unzipped his jacket. “You been waiting long?”
“Nah, ’bout ten minutes.”
“Okay.” Bailey looked over to the counter and snagged the waitress’s attention, then turned back to Sean. “You order already?”
Sean shook his head. “Not really hungry.”
Bailey picked up the menu and eyed his brother over the top of it. “When was the last time you ate?” Sean’s brow creased as though he were trying to remember, and Bailey shook his head. “What’s going on with you?”
