Page 14 of Party of Three

He was supposed to be putting the kid back in his place after their sparring session in the motor court, but Buckley’s cologne was citrusy and slightly sweet, and his half smile carried the seductive power of an embrace. When Jeff looked into his blue eyes, he felt like a sailor heeding the call of a siren. This particular rendition was one of the slowest, most lilting versions of “Bésame Mucho”he’d ever heard.

“Question, firecracker. What was your plan once I found out you lied to get me here?”

He didn’t flinch. “I was going to meet you at the front door and give you a piece of my mind first. I figured by then you’d be too shamed to object.”

“Gotcha. Well, I’m telling him what you did.”

Buckley’s smile grew. “But you haven’t yet.”

“I’ll tell him after, when there aren’t so many guests around.”

“So you’re having a terrible time and you hated seeing him again and you wish you hadn’t come and that talk you had over there was the worst thing you’ve ever experienced even though you were both grinning and laughing like schoolboys.”

Jeff felt himself blush. “A lie’s a lie.”

“I see. The hotel threw in a villa for the weekend. Tell him there. After. In case he gets upset. Which he won’t. Because you’re here, and that’s what he wanted.” Like it was nothing, inviting him back to their romantic hotel suite. Maybe it was nothing. And the truth was, he didn’t want to ruin Mateo’s party.

“I’ll have champagne ready just in case,” Buckley added.

“His idea, by the way,” Jeff said. “That I dance with you, I mean.”

“And you’re only doing it to make him happy, is that it?”

“Basically.”

As if this were a respectful answer, Buckley nodded.

When he shot a look in Mateo’s direction, Jeff followed suit.

The expression on Mateo’s face caught him off guard, maybe because like so many other things about the man he’d encountered that night it was the product of a Mateo who was infinitely more comfortable in his skin than the one he’d first met. Back then, he’d been bashful to a fault. Off base, when he wasn’t standing at attention, he’d bow his head and smile nervously whenever he was uncomfortable, which was a lot. Under Jeff’s strategic bursts of eye contact, he’d usually blush and fold, but for most of the evening he’d been meeting Jeff’s looks head on, returning them with expressions ranging from the joyful to the wounded to the…

How exactly to describe the way he was looking at him now? Leaning forward, elbows resting on the high-top table, watching the two of them with unguarded hunger.

Both of us, Jeff realized.He’s looking atbothof us like that.

“Well, good,” Buckley said. “Tonight is about making Mateo happy.”

“I get it. So you’re that kind of guy,” Jeff said.

“Whatkind of guy is that?”

“The kind who puts everyone else’s needs ahead of their own.”

Buckley cocked one eyebrow. “Pretty big assumption coming from someone who avoided getting to know me for a year.”

“Yeah, well, it usually means one thing.”

“Which is?”

Realizing he’d nervously looked away, Jeff returned his gaze to Buckley. “You’re afraid to admit what you want.”

“And what do I want, Master Sergeant Braxton?”

“You want to answer questions with questions, apparently.”

Buckley smiled. “You don’t ask questions. You make announcements. And give orders.”

“Why didn’t you call me and ask me not to come after you found out about us?”

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