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“I’ll kiss you for free.” He slid his arm out of a crutch, reached up, and guided Rusty down for easy access. Kissing Rusty was different every time. This felt more like sweet comfort than heat, which suited Cross.

He parted his lips for Rusty’s tongue, but Rusty delivered the barest touch, then brushed their lips together and leaned back. “Did you miss me all day, being a wealthy dude of leisure?”

“In between the physio, the workout, and the ice soaks?” Cross asked. “Yeah, maybe.”

Rusty bent and kissed him again. “Sorry, I know healing’s a full-time job.”

It really wasn’t, which was part of Cross’s problem, but he grinned. “Working hard at it. What about you?” He re-engaged his crutch. “Come eat and tell me about your day. I want to hear about the kids.” And Tyler, but I won’t push.

They sat across from each other, making inroads on broiled chicken, broccoli, and gravy fries. Somehow, snatching fries off each other’s plate became a game. Cross slapped at Rusty’s hand as he grabbed the last one, but missed.

“Too slow, old man.” Rusty made a show of sucking the fry in between his lips and Cross was torn between laughter and appreciation.

My life is so much better with Rusty in it. Cross was about to say something sappy when Hector appeared in the kitchen doorway. “Mr. LaCroix? Rusty?”

“Call me Cross,” he emphasized. He wasn’t about to be Mr. when everyone else was going by first names. “Did you find anything?”

“Yep.” Hector held up a metallic bag. “Really basic. Air Tag stuck up under a ledge in the truck bed. That’s a misdemeanor to begin with, although getting access to the owner info can be a waiting game even with a subpoena.

We’ll check it for prints and see if the partial phone number connects up to Wellington’s. ”

Cross asked, “Can he be arrested?”

Hector wrinkled his nose. “In theory, yes. In practice, we might have to incentivize the cops enough to care about someone stalking a six-foot-four, broke hockey player, especially with no violence. Better bet, my people can sniff around Wellington, find something else to get him on. Stalking with an Air Tag is both lazy and stupid. Those kinds of people usually make other mistakes.”

“I think he’s doing drugs,” Rusty said. “Uppers of some kind, maybe meth. He looked like some of the tweakers around home.”

“That would make our job easy,” Hector agreed.

“So you don’t need to see my phone?”

“I still should. He might’ve done both.”

Rusty pulled it out and passed it over with visible reluctance. “There might be stuff on there.”

Hector had a nice smile, creasing his tanned face in warm lines. “I’m not looking and if I happen to see something, I have a very short memory. Unless you have child porn on there, you’re good.”

“Jesus, no.”

“Tell me your lock code, and make sure you change it when I give it back. That’s good policy in general.”

“HD4NHL,” Rusty said.

“Got it.” Hector vanished around the corner with the phone.

Cross tried to get back their mellow mood. “So we’ve found out Tyler’s both lazy and stupid, and he won’t be able to track you anymore. That sounds like a good evening’s work. And I’m stuffed. Want to veg on the couch and watch tape, or a movie?”

“I’d like to but…” Rusty looked down. “Tyler talked about selling you out to the tabloids. If he was following me around, maybe he has proof.”

Cross reached across the table and took Rusty’s hand in his. He traced the back with his thumb, spread his fingers underneath Rusty’s, smiling at the half-inch difference in finger length. “I like your hands.”

“Um.”

“I like your everything. If Tyler decides to spill the beans and has enough proof to make some media source run with the story, it’s not going to destroy me.

” Certainty pooled in his chest like a lake of warm honey.

Rusty’s worth coming out for. “I have good perimeter security and no one’s caught a sign of Tyler out there, so hopefully he has nothing.

But if he does, we’re still fine. I’m in no rush to be a queer icon, but it’s not the threat he thinks it is.

I won’t pay the bastard one red cent to keep him from outing me. ”

“Oh.” Rusty closed his fingers on Cross’s, leaned in, and kissed him.

Differently again, this one strong and sure, warm and slow to match that certainty.

Cross tangled his fingers in Rusty’s hair and kissed him back, sun-bleached strands slipping through his fingers.

Time stretched and slowed in the perfect, strong motions of Rusty’s mouth and hands on him.

A cough from the doorway broke them apart.

Hector came over and held out Rusty’s phone. “No trackers or spyware that I could find, and I guarantee I’m better at it than Wellington. Change your pass code. I’ll send my report to Ms. Nelson and let her use her planning skills on how to go after Mr. Wellington.”

“Thanks.” Rusty took the phone.

“Don’t worry. We have you covered. Good night, gentlemen.” Hector vanished.

They sat quietly until they heard the front door open and close, and the beep of the alarm resetting.

Rusty took a slow breath. “I said I wouldn’t use your money to fix my problems, and now your whole security team is looking after me.”

“They’re looking after me,” Cross pointed out. And you, because by now Amy knows how important you are to me. “I was the one he threatened to out. Anyhow, taking Tyler Wellington off the streets is a public service.”

“I guess. They’re not going to, like, frame him or anything?”

“We’re not that Machiavellian. Totally above board,” Cross promised, although in fact, he wasn’t a hundred percent certain Amy wouldn’t put a thumb on the scales of justice if need be. Probably no need with Tyler, though.

Rusty sighed. “I admit, I’m going to be happier when he stops popping up beside my truck like the freaking ghost of blowjobs past. Hey, you want to go make out on the couch and watch game tape?”

Cross smiled. “Nothing in the world I’d rather do,” he said truthfully.