A Mended Man (The Men of Halfway House Book 4) (29 page)

Jessie stood and walked over to sit cross-legged on the bed, granting Aidan some distance. He grabbed his phone from the nightstand, swiping his finger across the display until he found what he needed, then returned the phone back to its place, careful to avoid any harsh sounds or movements.

The complex melody of the piano sonata filled the room, each strike of the instrument's ivory keys bringing with it a calming mix of tones that echoed in the otherwise silent room. The rhythmic chorus of sounds accompanying a rise and fall of single notes with elegance.

Aidan's grip in his hair loosened, his body slowly relaxing. He wrapped his arms around his knees, still shielding his face.

"You're safe here. You're home. And there's no one here but you and me," Jessie said in a soft tone he hoped mirrored the smooth wave of sounds from the sonata.

Aidan's toes curled and his hands fisted. "I want to be alone," he croaked.

"I'm not leaving you when you're like this. I'll sit here until I know you're okay. Then I'll leave if you want me to."

Twenty minutes and three full sonatas later, Aidan rested his chin on his knees, his face still half hidden behind his crossed arms. "I don't understand why you stay with me."

"There isn't enough time on this earth for me to give you all the reasons why."

Aidan shook his head and sighed. He peeked over his arms, his eyes filled with a well of pain that twisted Jessie's heart. "I tried."

"I know."

"I'm sorry."

Jessie slowly rose from the bed, conscious to not make any sudden moves. He knelt in front of Aidan again and reached out, sliding his fingers in Aidan's hand.

Aidan immediately gripped onto Jessie's hand like a lifeline. "I'm sorry I scared you," he whispered.

"I wasn't scared. I was worried. I shouldn't have pushed you tonight."

"You didn't push." Aidan laced his fingers with Jessie's. He slowly slid his feet along the floor, straightening his legs and opening his arms. "C'mere."

Jessie immediately crawled into Aidan's lap and rested his head on Aidan's shoulder.

Aidan wrapped his arms around Jessie and sighed. "We can try the bed thing again another night, but give me a little time before we go for round two."

"I'm sorry. I just thought you liked the couch better. I didn't know the bed would be a problem." Jessie stroked his fingers along Aidan's skin, reveling in the warmth and safety the strong arms always provided. "You let me know whenever you're ready."

"Promise," Aidan said, placing a gentle kiss at the side of Jessie's head.

"Does this happen often?"

"No…not really."

"So the nightmare from that night and tonight are the only times this has ever happened?"

Aidan sighed. "Never used to happen this often." He paused, probably debating if he should say anything more. "I'll get an occasional flashback, but it's not usually strong. Lately, it's a little tougher. I don't know if it's the cases I'm working on or all this stupid therapy talking shit that seems to have opened some fucked up vault in my brain."

Jessie brushed his fingers along Aidan's arm, enjoying the closeness and the rare intimacy of Aidan sharing something he most likely would have preferred to keep quiet.

"How did you know the music would help me?"

"I read that it helps to have something stimulate your senses that ties you to the present. A cold glass, a smell you associate with good memories, and sounds…like talking to yourself or playing music."

Aidan tightened his hold and buried his face in Jessie's hair. "Thanks for thinking of me."

"I'm always thinking of you."

"That's so stalkerish."

Jessie smiled, knowing a snarky Aidanism was a sign his Aidan had returned. He reached up and placed a tender kiss on Aidan's lips. He closed his eyes and rested his head on Aidan's shoulder, finally relaxing into the embrace. He focused on the up and down rhythmic stroking of the fingers against his arm and the slow, calming sounds of the sonata streaming in the room, lulling him to sleep.

Aidan gave him a sense of peace unlike anything he had ever experienced. He hoped to someday offer the same in return.

* * * *

Jessie let the consistent buzz of the chainsaw and the sway of the chair numb his senses as he wrapped up his research notes on a case. A few more paragraphs on his report and he could finally focus on the distracting eye candy drawing his attention.

He lazily swung in the chair hanging from the corner of the back porch of their home, fighting the urge to peek above the edge of his laptop. The wicker seat hung like an open birdcage from the top of the porch beam and always seemed to rock him to sleep if he closed his eyes and let the sounds of the day fill his senses. Aidan hated the hanging chair and rejected the idea of sitting in it but also refused to take it down since Jessie loved it so much. They often spent some quiet time together on weekends—Jessie in his hanging chair and Aidan on the bench at his side—simply enjoying the company of each other or stealing a short nap in the early evening.

A weekend nap was not on his to-do list today. The moment he'd seen Aidan in his worn out tank top and holed shorts, Jessie had grabbed his laptop and figured work while enjoying the view in the backyard was a far better alternative to his afternoon. He needed to finish this report and email it before the end of day—his work ethic wouldn't allow him to miss a deadline. But dammit, the very enticing and distracting view hindered his progress.

After several hours, he was thankfully close to finally wrapping up the report which would have taken him thirty minutes to complete at the dining room table. He totally had time to sneak in a rewarding peek at Aidan.

"Are you going to cut the whole thing down?" Jessie asked, shielding his eyes from the afternoon sun.

Aidan wiped the sweat from his brow and switched off the chainsaw. "What was that?"

He watched the thin sweat-drenched tank top hang off Aidan's body, wishing like hell Aidan hadn't worn the stupid thing that just blocked his view of all that ink he loved so much. "I asked if you were going to cut the whole tree down."

"Just the parts that are too close to the house."

"Why don't you take a break and drink something? It's too damn hot out here."

Jessie looked down at his laptop, trying to finish the sentence.
Dammit
. He'd lost his train of thought again. He needed to wrap up the conclusion of his report so he could focus on Aidan and every inch of visible skin in his sweaty outdoorsman performance. Screw it. He glanced up to sneak another peek.

Aidan stepped down the ladder and set the chainsaw on the ground. He walked toward Jessie with that prowl-like gait that always made Jessie's heart beat a tiny bit faster and his throat dry. The corners of Aidan's lips curled into a smile.
Tease
. He walked up to Jessie and braced his hands on the sides of the wicker birdcage chair, stilling the swinging motion. "Are you getting any of that work done you wanted to do or am I a distraction?"

"You're not a distraction." Jessie returned his focus to his laptop and pecked away at the keys.

"Really?" Aidan asked, leaning in a little more.

Jessie shook his head, trying to focus on the report from hell. No, he wasn't thinking about the trickle of sweat traveling down Aidan's neck he could see in his periphery or the strong, heated scent coming from Aidan's body. Nope, not for a second.

"Not even a little bit?"

"Nope," Jessie said, popping his lips on the "p" as he typed.

"Good." Aidan pushed off the wicker seat, resetting the slight swinging motion again. He fisted the sweaty material in the center of his back and yanked the drenched tank top up and over his head, rolling it into a ball and pitching it to the corner of the porch floorboards.

Jessie swallowed heavily, peeking over the laptop at Aidan's inked torso and the way it glistened with the beading sweat. He licked his lips, feeling the sudden urge to run his tongue along the newly exposed salty skin. His eyes met Aidan's teasing hazel stare.

"Good thing I'm not a distraction," Aidan said with a grin.

Jessie smiled and shook his head. Payback for something he had done or some teasing comment made. Oh, he could totally play that game with the playful side of Aidan that sometimes surfaced. He resumed his typing, anxiously working through the remaining few sentences of the report while Aidan returned to his tree-chopping task. Another sentence completed, another rewarding peek for his viewing pleasure. He glanced up at Aidan as he finished trimming the lower branches from the tree. His hair stuck up in all directions and his holed-jean shorts were a darker shade along the waistline.

Jessie took a deep breath. He wouldn't dare get caught dirty, sweaty, or messy. Just the thought triggered a chill to travel up his body. But damn. His inner-swine wanted nothing more than to rub itself against all that sun-kissed, sweaty, dirty, tan skin.

Finish. The. Damn. Report.
He forced himself to focus and wrap up the last few sentences. Jessie mentally fist-pumped as he composed the new email, attached the file, and hit send. He closed his laptop with a sigh, now able to finally enjoy his private little show.

Aidan glanced over his shoulder toward him, scowled, then switched off the chainsaw. He stepped down the ladder and walked over to him with a seriousness that overtook his entire body. "Jess, I think you need to go inside."

"Why?" he asked with a pout.

"I think you're burning."

"But I'm under the porch." He stretched his arms out, looking at his fair skin for any redness. Damn, how long had he been sitting in the chair? The porch's pergola roof construction minimized the sun but obviously didn't block out all of it nor did the woven material of the chair. He looked up and had to squint to block out the brightness of the afternoon sun.
Shit
.

"C'mon. Let's take a break and grab something to drink." Aidan held the wicker seat as Jessie stepped out with his laptop tucked under his arm.

Even though his private little show had been cut short, he certainly wasn't going to argue. He remembered a trip he once took on a boat. The day was overcast so he hadn't given a sunburn a second thought. Until that night when he looked at himself in the mirror to see his body swollen and blistered with sun poisoning. That look definitely wouldn't work to seduce a certain hot detective.

"Is it okay if I get a little wiring work done in the house?" Jessie asked as they walked inside, setting his laptop on the breakfast bar.

"You don't have to ask. Just make sure you have someone here with you if you don't know the worker. I don't want to let our guard down until we have that bastard in custody. If it's weekend work, let me know, and I'll be here. Or we can call Bull and have him come in if you want."

Jessie nodded and sat on one of the barstools, while Aidan entered the kitchen. "I was going to ask Cole if he could get a hold of some of the guys from his old crew."

"I'm not sure I want to know what you're planning." Aidan grabbed the lemonade from the refrigerator and filled two glasses.

"It's a surprise." Jessie leaned over the countertop and gave Aidan a quick kiss before grabbing the drink. "Don't ask."

"Mmm. I think you need to do that again so I'm distracted and don't start to wonder what the hell you're up to."

Jessie smiled, leaning in to give him another quick kiss.

Aidan inched back, pulling his lower lip into his mouth as if still savoring the lingering taste of the kiss.

"So
I'm
a distraction?" Jessie teased, sipping his lemonade.

Aidan's eyes scanned Jessie's face and a frown slowly tugged at his lips. "Take your shirt off."

Jessie perked up…and so did his dick. He yanked the shirt up and over his head.

"Shit."

Sooo not the reaction I was hoping for.

"You did burn. Go jump in the shower while I pick up the stuff outside."

Jessie sighed, sliding off the barstool and making his way down the hall to the bathroom.

"Let me know when you're out of the shower so I can put some aloe gel on your back," Aidan yelled out.

Jessie slowly turned and let his gaze travel up Aidan's body. "Are you going to rub my front too?"

Aidan stifled a chuckle. "I will rub whatever skin was exposed."

"You're no fun," Jessie grumbled, turning to make his way to the shower.

Jessie sat on the couch, closing his eyes, enjoying the cool gel spread across his neck. Or maybe it was the rippling chill in his body at the rough fingertips brushing against his skin. It didn't matter. This had been a tiny excursion to heaven. First, his back, then his legs and arms with the finishing touches on his face and neck. Even though he knew this was Aidan's way of taking care of his sunburn, he just closed his eyes and enjoyed embellishing his thoughts farther than Aidan wished to take this little exploration.

"You…need to stop that."

Jessie's lips parted when one of Aidan's slick fingers worked its way down his throat. He opened his eyes when the contact vanished. "Huh?" He blinked, trying to focus his thoughts on what Aidan had said. "Stop what?"

Aidan wiped his hands and capped the bottle of aloe gel.

Jessie reached out, resting his hand on Aidan's arm, hoping to draw his attention and avoid his retreat from intimacy. "Stop what?"

"You were…moaning."

Jessie raised an eyebrow. "I was?"

Aidan swallowed heavily and nodded.

"Why's that a problem?" Jessie inched forward on the couch. "You never answered my question from before. Am I a distraction?"

Aidan's focus snapped back to him, a fierce fire staring back at him in those hazel eyes.

Jessie's lips parted on a breath.
Damn
. He wanted to know what it felt like to have that same level of passion unleashed upon him.

Aidan looked away again, trying to hide from the scrutiny.

He knew all of Aidan's hiding places. The back porch was his calming place, his place of solace—where he went when his frustration reached epic proportions and he needed to clear his mind. He'd sit on the porch bench for lengthy stretches of time without uttering a single word, staring off into nothingness until he was calm enough to return to whatever he was doing in the house. The couch was his pondering place—where he'd absently look at the television, but his mind was elsewhere. He'd cross his arms and prop his feet up on the coffee table, quiet, statue-like, with a vacant look in his eyes. It was tough to imagine there was anyone inside that shell, but it was obvious when the gears were spinning wildly in his mind. He'd also find his escape in work, sometimes burying himself in a case file spread out at the dining room table or at his office desk in his bedroom. There, his focus was obvious and laser sharp with no distractions.