Page 8 of Point of Contact

“I know, Dad,” Riley whispered, then pulled away and strode off, wiping his eyes.

A few weeks later Trevor had driven him to the airport in Denver to catch his flight to Georgia and boot camp, and ten weeks after that, flew there himself for graduation. He’d been so full of pride that day, watching Riley march in formation, his face serious and determined.

The sound of jets roaring overhead jolted Trevor out of his memories, and he looked around the parade field for Riley, not seeing him. As he trudged toward the parking lot, Trevor spotted him off in the distance helping to load the storage bay of the charter bus with rucksacks and stacks of equipment.

For a minute he considered going over there for one last goodbye, but in the next instant thought better of it. Riley had said his farewells, and now he needed to switch from son mode to soldier mode. Trevor had to let him go. Even as he watched him, he noticed how Riley all of a sudden seemed older, more focused, his mind on his upcoming mission.

For the next year Riley belonged to the United States and the war it was waging in a country thousands of miles away.

So Trevor turned his back and left him, and it was the hardest thing he’d ever done.

Chapter Three

August 2007—Nine months before

“The wheels on the bus go round and round!”

Jesse opened his eyes blearily to glare at Smitty, who was mumbling the chorus over and over in a slurred voice, chin down, his head swaying side to side with the motion of the fucking train, not bus. Jesse wanted to tell him to shut up, but decided it was too much effort and settled for belching loudly in displeasure.

God, they were all so drunk.

He pressed his cheek to the cool glass of the train window, gazing out at the Italian countryside as it flashed past. It had seemed like a good idea to take the train to Rome for one last blowout before going downrange, but now, nauseous and headachy, not to mention broke as fuck after buying round after round for their table, well, the whole thing pretty much sucked ass.

Smitty was singing; Jesse was trying not to hurl; Enriquez was passed out cold in the seat opposite Jesse, his head down on the table of the club car. And Riley—Riley was the most sober of the bunch, although that wasn’t saying much. He was across the aisle with a girl on his lap, the two of them making out like there was no tomorrow.

And maybe there wasn’t.

Jesse closed his eyes, the excitement and fear that had been a part of him for days flowing through him once again in a shivery wave that ratcheted his nausea into the danger zone. He opened his eyes again, taking deep breaths through his nose, trying to stave off the inevitable.

Afghanistan’s Korengal Valley—the Valley of Death itself. In forty-eight hours, his company would fly into it, and the chance some of them would be flying back out in body bags was pretty high. It was considered the most dangerous posting in all of Afghanistan, and Jesse had heard stuff about eighty percent casualty rates, firefight after firefight. The enemy was running around in flip-flops and clutching ancient, rusty guns but they knew the region like the backs of their hands...

It was a good place to get your combat infantry badge—or get dead.

The girl on Riley’s lap giggled, and Jesse rolled his head to the side to look at them. They were snuggling and whispering and kissing, oblivious to the rest of the world. Jesse envied Riley the brief escape from reality he was enjoying.

He caught him looking and winked, which made Jesse smile despite himself. Riley didn’t acknowledge him much anymore, and Jesse couldn’t deny he’d fucked everything up the night of that party. He hadn’t meant to hurt anyone, it was just...

Riley’s dad, Trevor, at that party. Shirtless, in a pair of loose cargo shorts that hung so low they revealed the dimples right above the swell of his ass. Jesse didn’t go for older guys and Trevor had to be, what, early forties, so Jesse hadn’t taken much notice of him when he’d answered the door. He’d been too intent on handing over his keys and getting to the beer.

But when Trevor had come out to grill, an older man was with him, just as lean, but with salt-and-pepper hair. They were laughing and talking, and as Trevor flipped the burgers, the guy put his hand on Trevor’s lower back, stroking his fingers over skin that had a slight sheen of sweat to it from the heat of the grill. Trevor tilted his face up and they’d kissed, lingeringly, before the gray-haired guy gave Trevor’s ass a little pat and went back into the house.

For the rest of the evening, Jesse watched them closely, taking in all their interactions, the little spat they’d had over something, the makeup kiss...just like any other couple. As the evening went on, Jesse’d gotten more and more pissed, not because of hatred or homophobia like he’d made everyone think, but because of sheer fucking envy. Trevor and his boyfriend were out and proud, happy, with no reason to hide who they were to anyone.

He’d wanted to punch something—or worse, burst into drunken tears. He’d chosen his path. The military had a policy against allowing openly gay people to serve, and most days he dealt with the reality of that. But seeing what he wanted for himself someday so out in the open, so in his face, had made him terrified that everything he was feeling was written all over him. Fear and alcohol had taken over his mouth, and even though ruining his friendship with Riley hadn’t been part of the plan, he’d certainly managed to do just that.

Jesse heaved an unhappy sigh, shoving the memory of that night out of his mind. Deciding he’d better go take a piss before they got to the station, Jesse got up to lurch through the club car toward the bathroom. As he did, he found himself locking gazes with a handsome Italian man, part of a group of college-age tourists and locals that Jesse and his crew hooked up with to party in Rome.

Jesse noticed this guy right away, because he was hella beautiful, but hadn’t thought much of it. Until now. There was an unmistakable look of interest in the dude’s eyes as he checked Jesse out, too. Tensing, Jesse glanced away immediately, not wanting to encourage him. If his career and livelihood were on the line, he was gonna play it one hundred percent safe and assume everyone he met while on the job or around his teammates was straight. No stupid risks.

Jesse kept on moving, shoving into the tiny bathroom at the end of the car with a little more force than necessary. After finishing, drying his hands and pulling the folding door open again, his heart leaped at the sight of the guy standing right outside the little cubicle.

“Um, excuse me,” Jesse mumbled. With a quirk of his lips, the man stepped back a little, just enough for Jesse to squeeze by. When he did, their chests brushed together, the warmth of the dude’s skin even through their shirts making Jesse ache to pull him closer. God, it’d been so fucking long since he’d felt another man’s body pressed to his.

Legs shaking, Jesse made his way back to his seat, a quiver low in his belly. It’d been months since the last time he could sneak away from the Army base in Colorado Springs and drive up to Denver to go to a gay club. He’d made good use of his time there, hooking up with two other guys and having one of the hottest nights of his life. Jesse had staggered back to the barracks at dawn covered in hickeys and bruises, to Riley’s vast amusement. (Jesus, Jess, give me that girl’s number! She worked you over but good.) And God, that memory had sustained Jesse throughout the lonely months ahead.

The train rumbled on, and Jesse drifted, his cheek resting against the cool glass of the window. Riley and the girl fell asleep in an ungraceful heap with her still sprawled across his lap, and Enriquez got up at one point and staggered to a nearby trashcan, puking into it before bitching loudly about needing a cigarette. Club car employees side-eyed them all but didn’t comment, no doubt used to the intoxicated American servicemen back and forth on this route.

When they at last pulled into the station and got ready to disembark, Jesse searched for the Italian man, finding him at the back of the group waiting to get off the train. They locked eyes again, but this time the man bit his bottom lip suggestively and gave Jesse a furtive wink. Arousal made Jesse’s balls tighten, his nipples tingle. He deliberately turned his back on the guy. If anything was gonna happen, they’d need to bide their time. It’d have to be planned out carefully, with zero risk for Jesse.