Page 36 of Party of Three

He felt Buckley’s breath against the other side of his neck. When his mouth moved to his it was like one kiss seamlessly flowing into the other.

Before Buckley, before this moment, his life had been full of people he felt he had to please or impress. For the first time, he felt like he was in the presence of two men who could put him back together again. They started by guiding him to the bed.

12

Once Mateo’s breaths turned slow and even, Jeff slipped out of bed and took a quick shower. Bringing the smell of the ocean to bed with him might trigger a flashback for the man in their care.

When he returned, Buckley was sliding from the sheets, no doubt getting ready to do the same.

Was the guy avoiding his eyes as he moved past him toward the bathroom?

As he snuggled against Mateo again, Jeff found himself turning this worry over in his head, even as he felt comforted by the warmth of the man next to him, who was out cold, felled by the adrenaline crash that follows a panic attack.

Quietly, Buckley returned to bed. When his hand found one of Jeff’s across Mateo’s body, Jeff’s anxiety left him and soon he was sleeping so deeply he wasn’t sure if the sounds that eventually roused him were echoes of a dream. By the time he sat up in bed, he was alone with Mateo, the memory of Buckley shifting the sheets, tapping the screen of his phone, quietly sliding on clothes, coming to him out of sequence.

He pushed back the drape. No sign of him on the tiny balcony. He searched for a note. There wasn’t one. No text on his phone either.

His heart dropped. The muscles in his upper back felt like a solid, aching plate.

He’d overstepped. He should have talked over his suggestions with Buckley first, given him a chance to play a role. Buckley was Mateo’s boyfriend, after all. And what was Jeff?That was a four p.m. tomorrow conversation for sure, but in the meantime, he shouldn’t have swept in all Marine Corps rescue-hero like, making Buckley feel like his past efforts had been weak failures.

He pulled on some of Mateo’s clothes, donned a pair of flip-flops, and headed out in search of Buckley.

In the hotel’s lobby, he caught sight of him. Exactly as Jeff had feared, he was heading for the motor court, phone in hand. A total reverse of how they’d first met the night before.

“Yeah, that’s not how we’re handling this,” Jeff barked.

At the sound of his voice, Buckley spun. Jeff closed the distance between them.

“We made a deal. Four p.m. tomorrow we talk about the tough stuff. So if what I did is something we need to talk about, then we talk about it then. But you’re not going anywhere, firecracker.”

“What youdid?” Buckley asked.

Buckley’s phone let out a chime at the same moment a dirt-splotched Toyota Prius pulled into the motor court behind him, looking out of place among the other black SUVs and idling hotel sedan cars.

“You basically put this whole thing together. So you’re going to see it through with the two of us. You don’t get to hop in an Uber and hightail it out of here the minute things get rough.”

The Prius came to a halt behind Buckley. He turned to it, but he didn’t go for the back door. Instead, the driver—a young woman with short, flame-red hair and a tattoo of a slender rosebush crawling up one side of her neck—hopped out, carrying a plastic bag with a CVS logo on it. She handed Buckley the bag, then her eyes met Jeff’s and she said, “You boys have fun.”

As the Prius pulled off, Buckley approached him. His head was bowed, and he was fighting laughter. He held the bag openso Jeff could see its contents. “She wasn’t an Uber. She was an Instacart driver.”

Condoms. Buckley had ordered them some condoms on his phone.

“A rather familiar one if you ask me.” Feeling his cheeks flame, Jeff took the bag from Buckley’s hands, as if that, and his ornery deflection, would somehow make this moment less awkward.

“What was that abouthightailing it outta here, Master Sergeant?” Buckley asked.

“I thought we agreed to lose the rank thing.”

“Sorry, but that was definitely a master sergeant moment. An awkward one for sure, but still…”

“And no making fun of my accent.”

“Oh, I’m not making fun. Believe me. Your accent makes me want to ride you like a horse. Hence the…” Buckley gently batted the CVS bag now hanging from Jeff’s hand. “By your request, remember?”

“You know the hotel’s got a romance kit in the wet bar,” Jeff said, even though he was pretty sure he should stop talking for at least a few minutes.

“It’s only got two, though.” Buckley smiled and waggled his eyebrows.

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