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Jane, tired of waiting for stupid humans to get a hint, started yowling louder. “For the love of Christ, cat, we’re having a moment here. I’m coming.”
“I don’t like him,” Nick said much later, after they’d moved the bedding and other stuff into Five—even though Nero Vik wasn’t arriving until tomorrow. After their shower in the still-too-small shower stall. After they were in bed with the covers pulled over them again, and Jane was curled up at their feet.
“You don’t like anyone, Nick,” Martin said, his voice muffled by his pillow. He had one arm wrapped around Nick, spooning him. Keeping him close. Nick liked it.
“He’s shifty,” Nick insisted. “What’s he doing here, in town? He’s after something.” Nick didn’t know that for certain, but he had a feeling, a gut instinct. Something about this guy rubbed him the wrong way.
“He’s fine, Nick. He’s just a guy, and no doubt we’ll get to know him while he’s in town. Maybe he’s down on his luck?” Martin pulled Nick even closer. “Maybe he’s just a little lost and stopping for a while will give him that chance?”
“Maybe he’s a rando serial killer. Seriously, I want to know, why is he here? In January? Who comes to Cooper Springs in January?”
“Didn’t I hear that Liam’s moms are visiting?” Martin pointed out.
“That’s different. They used to live here, they know what it’s like.”
Martin snorted, and it tickled the back of Nick’s neck. “Go to sleep. Tomorrow will be here sooner than we like. I’ve got a long list for you.”
Nick started to insist he wasn’t sleepy, but a massive yawn betrayed him. “Fine, but I’m running a background check on him tomorrow. What kind of name is Nero Vik anyway? He should be easy enough to find.”
“If that’s what you need to do,” Martin said, his voice slurry.
Pleased, Nick shut his eyes, knowing it would take forever to get to sleep. First thing tomorrow, he would check out Nero Vik.
“Ready for coffee, Sleeping Beauty?”
Nick dragged one eye open; he’d slept through the night—again. He almost felt human.
Wearing only a pair of cotton boxer briefs, Martin stood in the doorway smiling at him. Nick’s foolish heart beat faster.
“Did I tell you Liam is carving a bunch of male princesses?” he asked. Martin wasn’t a princess—although Nick thought Liam’s princesses were sexy and beautiful—but Martin was a king.
“No,” Martin said, moving to stand next to the bed. “Are they better than your dicks?”
Rolling his eyes, Nick arched his back and kicked the covers off, trying to get a rise out of Martin. “My dicks—all of them—are works of art.”
He’d dropped the ball on the dick carvings, busy with other things recently. He’d bang out a few this week just to keep his hand in.
“Not arguing,” Martin said, watching Nick’s cock swell.
Wrapping his fingers around his erection, Nick first squeezed and then caressed himself, running his fingertips up and back down his length. His dick hardened further and his balls too.
Martin appeared mesmerized, his gaze molten.Wanting. The bulge in his boxers growing as Nick watched. He wanted Nick and it blew Nick’s mind.
Shaking his head as if he really had been hypnotized, Martin quickly stripped off his briefs and tossed them aside. His cock was thick and long, just like he was. It bobbed as he moved, swinging Nick’s direction. As he watched, a droplet of precome oozed from the tip, sending a throb of desperate need down his spine.
“I’m not quite ready for coffee yet,” Nick said, his voice hoarse, “but I’m ready for you.”
“Where is he?” Nick growled. They’d cleaned up, had coffee and bagels, and finished organizing Cabin Five. It was noon now and Nick was feeling impatient. Martin had texted Nero Vik a half hour ago telling him the cabin was ready, but he hadn’t answered.
Nick was standing at the window, arms crossed over his chest, frowning at the forest on the other side of town while also watching the misty rain float down from the heavy clouds over Cooper Springs—as if Vik might just appear out of nowhere somehow. Jane perched on his shoulder like a tiny gargoyle, also peering out the window.
“Somebody forgot to tell Vik that cell coverage in the area was random,” Martin said from where he was sitting on the couch, “or his phone is dead.”
Or the creep knew Nick was on to him and had changed his mind about staying with them. Maybe he’d given Martin a fake number.
“It’s not a big deal, Nico,” Martin said, as if he knew exactly where Nick’s thoughts were headed. “We’ll just head over to the pub and see if he’s around and if he’s not, we can leave a message for him there. Probably he went into Aberdeen or something—we don’t know where he’s been staying—and we’ll see him when he gets back.”
All true facts, and yet, also irritating.
