Page 12 of Snowbirds
Eventually, they laughed themselves out. The room turned quiet and Chris was watching him closely—probably wondering if Ivan had finally lost his last marble. Ivan quieted down, feeling twitchy under the piercing scrutiny.
“So, we’re boyfriends, right?” Chris asked, wiping his eyes. “Just clarifying, getting the story straight, so to speak. And we’re moving in together as soon as your lease is up?”
So,notwondering about Ivan’s grasp on reality then. That was a relief.
“You know what happens, Chris.” No way was he uttering the word boss at this moment. “A thought gets into my head and suddenlyboom. Your mom surprised me, and it just popped out.” And anyway, Chris wasn’t his boss anymore, or almostwasn’t, even if he didn’t know it yet. He really needed to tell Chris he’d put in for a permanent transfer to Radisson’s team.
“It just popped out,” Chris repeated, snorting again. “Look, Ivan, Iknowyou, not only as part of my team but also from reading your file. You’ve withstood interrogations by hardened motorcycle gang members. You’ve infiltrated gangs running drugs, weapons, and humans from Canada to Mexico. My mom is not that scary.”
“Her lemonade is damn strong.”
“I may be a little drunk right now,” Chris continued. “Okay, a lot drunk. But I’m pretty damn sure that Mom’s lemonade didn’t make you say those things. Or sit there and flip through all seventeen of the photo albums she and Dad put together.”
“Eighteen,” Ivan corrected. “Susie said she just finished the last one this past winter. And, oh my god, that picture of you and your folks at your college graduation. I think that’s my favorite.”
“See?” Chris pointed a wobbly index finger in his direction. “That’s what I’m talking about.” His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “You want to think there’s something interesting in me—always dropping by the office, hanging out, sharing your five-alarm take-out, trying toconnector something. Which is”—he shrugged and flailed his hands—“ridiculous. I am the world’s most boring person. Add to that the fact that I pined—pined—after someone for fucking years when I knew he wasn’t interested in me? Boringandan idiot. Go figure.”
Wait. Ivan stopped breathing for a moment.
Chris thoughthewas boring? Was Morrison having an auditory hallucination?
“You’re not boring,” Ivan said seriously. “You’re reliable. Although you have to admit, the phad Thai from that food truck is amazing.”
“Hmph.” Skepticism oozed from the single word. “I’m reliable. So reliable that I racked up enough vacation to havemyself literally forced by the higher-ups to take time off. And there was nowhere for me to go except my parents’ fifty-and-up retirement community in Arizona. I have nothing better to do than work. ‘Get a hobby,’ they say. What the fuck should I do? Start needlework? Does a person just randomly wake up and decide, ‘Today is the day I am going to start collecting rocks’?”
Morrison leaned over and kissed his boss.
On the lips.
SIX
Chris
Ivan’s lips moved tentatively against his at first. The scruff of his beard was unfamiliar, but not unwelcome. When Chris didn’t immediately pull away, Ivan pressed harder, his large hands lifting to frame Chris’s face, holding him in place.
As if he was going anywhere.
Chris was shocked, but not the way he knew he should’ve been. He should’ve been stopping Ivan. Saying no. But he didn’t want to and he wasn’t going to. In fact, he wanted Ivan closer. Reaching around the bigger man’s body, he tugged at Ivan’s t-shirt until the man got the damn hint and swung one leg over Chris’s lap so he was straddling him.
“We’re gonna break this damn couch,” Ivan murmured between gentle caresses.
“We’ll buy what’s-his-name a new one,” Chris said, his voice rough.
“Frank,” Ivan reminded him.
He’d never allowed himself to imagine Ivan as a lover; it was a line he’d not permitted himself cross. Or a line he’d evenadmitted existed between himself and Ivan. But somewhere buried inside, he’d known the attraction was there.
Even so, gentle Ivan was a surprise. Deep in his brain, Chris noted that it shouldn’t have been so. He tucked that thought away to examine later. Maybe Ivan was worried Chris would shrink from his touch. Push him away. Order him out of the house. Chris thought he might shatter, but it wasn’t going to be because Ivan’s gentle hands were on him. It was going to be because he hadn’t known how much he’d really wanted this.
Ivan Morrison, chaos factor. Gentle like lightning.
Ivan must have sensed his distraction. “Is this okay?” he asked, his tone laced with concern and possibly a dash of insecurity.
“Yes,” Chris said firmly, trying to pull him closer so he could wrap his arms around him.
“You’resuresure?” Now it was Ivan who hesitated, pulling away to look Chris directly in the eye. “This isn’t vodka induced, right?”
“No. And, yes, I’m sure. I know when my mom’s drinks are influencing me—and this isn’t one of those times.”
