Page 76

Chas hated danger. Hated the unknown. No way would he want to sit at home waiting for Gunner to come home from dangerous assignments. Especially not now that he’d had a taste of what Gunner’s life in the field was like.
Dammit. The very mission that had brought them together would be the thing that would push them apart. It figured. He never could catch a break when it came to his personal life. Never had. Never would.
Chapter Seventeen
FOR CHAS,the next few days passed in a blur of being sick of sitting in a car, staring at thousands of miles of pavement, and overall general exhaustion. After their romantic interlude at Yellowstone, Gunner had inexplicably shut down. He wasn’t laughing, wasn’t joking around and shooting the breeze. Hell, he was barely speaking to him.
What had gone wrong? Chas had plenty of time to replay the evening while they drove across the country back toward the East Coast. For the life of him, he couldn’t figure out what he’d said or done to make Gunner withdraw so completely into his own personal emotional cave.
One thing he did know: now was not the moment to spring his demand on Gunner that he find a safer job if they were going to have a long-term relationship with each other. That left him feeling grumpy and frustrated too, not in any mood to break through Gunner’s sullen silence.
By the time they hit Virginia, he finally resolved that whatever was going on in Gunner’s head was the guy’s problem to solve—not his. He washed his hands of trying to show Gunner Vance how to be a normal human being and have a normal human relationship. The SEAL in him had won, apparently. Which sucked rocks.
If a faction of the Oshiro gang was following them back across America, they saw no sign of the black SUVs nor of any armed men. Chas wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or a bad one. Gunner was tense, always watching everything and everyone around them. But Chas didn’t know if that was real concern or just habit. Either way, Gunner’s tension was contagious, and Chas was a nervous wreck by the time they finally pulled into the driveway of the old farmhouse late that night and were greeted by Spencer and Drago.
Chas and Gunner fell into bed without talking much to their hosts. They’d been driving nearly around the clock, taking turns napping and only stopping for fuel, food, or pit stops.
God, it felt good to stretch out on a comfortable bed that wasn’t vibrating or rumbling, without cranking his neck and back into unnatural angles not meant for human beings.
Gunner groaned under his breath beside him. Chas felt Gunner move, pressing a hand against his right rib cage. He’d been doing that a lot recently.
Chas murmured, “Any chance you cracked a rib in your parachuting accident?”
“I’m thinking I cracked about four of them.”
“Four?” Chas exclaimed, sitting up. “Why on earth didn’t you stop and get those checked out?”
“Nothing to do for cracked ribs but let them heal.”
“Can’t you bandage them or something?”
“Elastic strapping helps make the pain bearable, but I still have to breathe, and every breath flexes them.”
“Simple breathing hurts you? How long has that been going on?”
“The docs gave me some sort of epidural painkillers in the hospital and said it would last a couple of weeks. It has been starting to wearing off for the past few days.”
“And you never said anything before now?” Chas exclaimed, indignant.
“It’s just a little pain. No big deal.”
“Four broken ribs isno big deal?”
“They’re only cracked. Actually my spine is the worst of it. I messed up some disks, apparently.”
Chas flopped back down to the mattress, aghast. “And all that sex we had. Did that hurt you?”
“Some. Although I was a little bit distracted from my pain.”
Chas swore heartily. Enough to make Gunner chuckle, in fact, and to make him swear some more.
“Language, Mr. Reed. Language.”
He turned his back on Gunner in a huff.
“Sleep while you can, Chas. Things could get exciting around here for the next few days.”
“I have no desire to find out what constitutes ‘exciting’ in your world. Not after spending the past week with you.”