Page 19 of Snowbirds
Almost-sex had been followed by the sound of gunshots, the discovery of an open front door, and a freakish collection ofsomething. But they’d found no body and no evidence of foul play. After they’d not exactly broken into the neighbor’s, Ivan had insisted on cruising around again once they’d left the house. They hadn’t found anything. Not a motor-trike in sight.
Another thought struck him. Would Ivan worry that it had been the drinks that Susie had handed out like Halloween candy which had led to Chris giving in to their chemistry? Hopefully not. The reality was, they’d been orbiting each other for a while now. Ever since Morrison had, quite literally, exploded into Chris’s universe. And, recognizing temptation for what it was, Chris had immediately slammed all his mental and emotional doors against Ivan.
Besides, they’d worked together.
Chris would be the first to admit he’d done everything possible tonotsee Ivan, even going so far as to convince himself he was in love with Dante Castone. Chris did believe he and Dante could’ve been good together—if they both weren’t so damned stubborn, and if Andre hadn’t gotten there first.
It had been too easy for Chris to imagine that he and the ex-undercover agent had a connection that was more than friendship. Which in turn had made it easy to avoid any real relationships because Dante was rarely around and Chris was his boss. It made everything so much easier.
Ivan was not easy. He was not simple and malleable. Dante wasn’t either, but Chris had to be honest with himself finally; he hadn’t been in love with Dante at all, he’d just been avoiding…Ivan.
Chris had known he was in trouble last winter when he’d come down with a nasty bout of the flu. Ivan had shown up at his house with a gallon of Tom Yum soup and steamed dumplings, then proceeded to make him drink fluids and eat until he could function again. The house had felt empty after he’d left.
“Did last night really happen?” Ivan’s deep voice was raspy from sleep. “We broke the seal and then stumbled upon the downright weirdest fucking art I have ever seen in my life?”
“Broke the seal?” Chris, of course, immediately focused on Ivan’s choice of words.
Ivan rolled over onto his side, his lips curved into a smug grin.
“You know exactly what I mean… boss.”
“Oh my god. No. I can’t be your boss anymore.”
“Meh, don’t get all worked up. I told you I’m transferring to what’s his name—Madison’s—team.”
“You mean Radisson? Also, no, you didn’t say anything, I would not have forgotten.”
“Oh. Huh. Sorry about that. The transfer is fairly simple since we’re in the same jurisdiction, and it’s not like I haven’t worked on feeb teams in the past. But, yeah, Andrew Radisson, FBI guy, that’s right. Good guy. It’s all good. Everything is very good. Should be done by the time we get back.”
Clearly, Ivan was not at all worried that either of them might have been influenced by an outside force known as vodka lemonade.
“Frankly, Andy has no idea what he’s getting into with you,” Chris said thoughtfully, amused by Ivan’s deflection—he knew Radisson’s name as well as he knew his own.
“He’s not getting into anything with me. That’s your job now.” It was possible that Ivan’s grin grew even wider.
“Is that so? Is that why we’re ‘getting a place together’ when we get back? I still can’t believe you said that to my parents.”
“Your place is alright. But I think between the two of us, we could find something better. When you’re ready.”
Chris rolled his eyes and laughed. “I’m just supposed to go from being a hard-hearted bachelor to?—”
“To mine.” Ivan pointed a thick finger at his own chest. The chest Chris very much enjoyed while running his fingers through Ivan’s silky chest hair. “Zero to sixty, baby.”
He let that roll around in his head for a minute. Was he panicked? No.Huh. After all, his parents had, as they’d told Ivan, met at a Grateful Dead show and rarely been apart since. Maybe it was his DNA.
“Ugh, my parents.” Chris sighed, sinking further back onto his pillow. One voice in his head whispered,This is too soon, it’s not real, while another, louder voice reminded him that he and Ivan had known each other for literal years, so it was not too soon at all.
Calm the fuck down, son.
“What about your folks?” Ivan asked.
“My parents will be happy.” Chris knew he sounded like this was tragic news. They already were happy about Ivan.
“Wouldn’t want that now, would we? Your parents being happy for you. What a fucking tragedy,” Ivan teased.
Chris knew from past conversations that Ivan’s parents hadn’t spoken to him since he came out. They would never be happy for him. They had no idea how incredible their son was. Chris hated them.
“Fuck off,” he retorted mildly. “You know it’s not that.”
