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“Yeah? Don’t hold your breath.”

“He’s played his silly game for ten years—”

Rusty broke in, “Silly game that makes him ten million a year. And he won the Norris Trophy.”

“Ten million is nothing. And that era is over. He’ll need something better to do. Awarding large charitable grants should please him. He already gives more of his own funds to charity than our accountants recommend.”

Maybe Cross would enjoy passing out big money to worthwhile causes, but Rusty couldn’t imagine him sitting in an office.

“I doubt he wants to wither behind a desk. I bet he’ll find a different job in hockey.

He’d be a great coach, or a scout who checks out prospects.

He’s awesome at seeing a player’s skills and weaknesses. ”

LaCroix scoffed. “For pennies an hour and keeping expense reports? Hardly.”

“Look. It’s not up to you or me. Cross gets to decide what he wants to do. I’m here for him, whatever that turns out to be.”

“But for how long?” LaCroix looked Rusty up and down, his lips curled. “You’re so young. Are you even legal?”

“If you have a report, you know how old I am.”

“A teenager.”

Rusty couldn’t deny that so he shrugged.

“RJ will get tired of you, soon enough. He didn’t even hold onto his girlfriend, and she was a much better match.”

“Willow? I hear she bored him stiff.” Rusty faked a grin. “Now, I like him stiff.”

“You’re a child,” LaCroix spat out. “A plaything. How much money are you expecting from him when he gets bored? Was this kidnapping a way to get the funds faster?”

“Fuck you.” Rusty held onto the ragged edges of his temper, his fists balled at his side. “Where’s Marie? Ask her how bored Cross is with me.”

“Marie’s a girl, with a soft heart.”

“I can’t wait to hear you tell her that.”

“I will pay you now. A million dollars, free and clear. How’s that for a few months of work?”

“Cross is not work, and you can shove that million dollars up your ass.”

“Two million. Last offer. All you have to do is stop—”

“Stop what?” Cross asked from the doorway. He crutched forward and when his father didn’t give way, Cross bumped him aside and went to Rusty. “Hey, mon chou, are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Rusty giggled, cumulative stress coming out in a weird laugh, then rubbed his hand over his mouth. I didn’t punch your dad. That’s good, right?

Cross leaned toward him, chin raised, and Rusty took the offered kiss. Cross turned back to his father. “So exactly what were you offering my boyfriend two million dollars for?” His voice held a sharp edge.

“Now, RJ.” His father held his hands out, like he was calming an angry dog. “Listen to me.”

“I did. I heard him tell you to stick a million dollars up your ass, and heard you come back with two million. For what?”

“You know I want what’s best for you, right?”

“No, actually, I don’t know that. You always wanted what was easy for you, convenient. What fit in your plans and didn’t make waves.”

“I let you play hockey when I could’ve used you in the family business. I let you quit college to play hockey, which I’m beginning to think was a big mistake.”

“No, see, the mistake was thinking you had any right to stop me. I was twenty. It was none of your business. Just like what I’m doing with my life now is none of your business.”

“Except you just got yourself kidnapped.” LaCroix glowered. “Thanks to this man. And that could’ve cost me a whole lot of money.”

“You know what? Next time, feel free to not pay it. If you’re worried about losing some of your fortune to get your disappointing son back, then tell them, ‘He’s none of my business,’ right?”

“No, son, no, you know it wasn’t the money I was concerned about.”

“Well, I didn’t think so. But I’m beginning to wonder.” There was a raw hurt in Cross’s voice that made Rusty move up closer beside him, shoulder and hip against his in silent support. Cross threw a grateful glance up at him.

LaCroix said, “When Amy told me you were in danger, I ran out of a meeting. Borrowed a plane from a friend, since Marie has ours in Japan.”

“Marie!” Cross exclaimed. “I should let her know I’m okay.” He pulled out a phone, snapped a selfie that included Rusty, then sent it. Rusty saw him add, ~I made Amy earn the big bucks today, but we’re fine. Pelicans are now my favorite bird.

He kept the screen tilted to Rusty as Marie answered back, ~Don’t do this shit to me, baby bro. I’m at the airport right now.

Cross sent, ~Stay put. I mean it, we’re fine. Dad’s here. He can keep you updated.

~Are you sure?

~Positive. Have some lunch and relax.

“Lunch?” Rusty asked.

“Sixteen-hour time difference. It’s eleven-thirty tomorrow morning there.”

Rusty was suddenly aware that it was early evening and he hadn’t eaten in much longer than he’d planned. His stomach grumbled loudly.

Cross laughed. “And we’ll get some dinner. A pity it won’t be Fedora pizza but maybe another time.”

“Now, RJ…” his father began.

“Nope.” Cross stuck his phone away in his pocket. “You’re not invited, Dad. Maybe we can have breakfast, if I’m over being mad at you and you decide to stick around. And if you can be polite to Rusty.”

“Your mother’s on her way—” LaCroix cut himself off. “You know, breakfast is good. We will both be there. If you’re headed back to Portland, I can get a suite up at the Silver Regency. What time shall I order breakfast for?”

Rusty had to admire LaCroix’s persistence. Apparently Cross couldn’t resist it either, because he mumbled, “Maybe nine.”

“I have to work,” Rusty pointed out.

“Not if the power’s still out at the community center, and if it isn’t, well, you might want to call in sick, at least till we figure out if there’s going to be fallout.”

Amy came striding in at his words. “Not too much, if I can help it.” She glared at Cross, though. “Now maybe you’ll listen to me about personal security?”

“Thanks for the empathy,” Cross drawled.

To Rusty’s shock, Amy grabbed Cross in a tight hug. “Dammit, kid, you took years off my life.”

“It wasn’t his fault,” Rusty pointed out. “We weren’t doing anything.”

“Except apparently dating a sociopath,” LaCroix chipped in.

“They reported Wellington to me, Pierre,” Amy told him, her voice cooling. “The threat should’ve been neutralized.”

“So what happened?” Cross asked, which Rusty appreciated since he really wanted to know how a guy he thought was just a pathetic asshole, safely in jail on a drug charge, turned into a kidnapper with a gun.

“As far as we can tell, he talked about having a way to get at a billionaire to an older ex-con sharing his cell while waiting for trial,” Amy said.

“That guy bailed them both out, and they planned the kidnapping together. Wellington told the ex-con that if they lured Rusty, they could get hold of you without running into your security.” She arched an eyebrow at Cross and let her tone rise.

Cross huffed. “Okay, I hear you. But it was mostly bad luck.”

Amy’s attitude wilted a bit. “To be fair, it was also my error in not making sure Wellington stayed behind bars where we put him. He was strung out, desperate, and managed to hook up with just the wrong guy, someone who already had a history of violence and extortion. Wellington is now spilling everything he can think of to pin all the blame on his accomplice, and on Rusty for mistreating him. Won’t work, but the info’s useful.

Some of his ranting makes me glad Rusty wasn’t in his hands very long. ”

Rusty was really fucking glad too. He shuddered. “Yes, thank you! But how do you know all this info? Cops don’t usually tell anyone shit.”

She set a finger beside her nose like the guys in The Sting . “Trade secret.”

“Either way, we’re grateful,” Cross said. “That could’ve been bad.” He hugged Rusty against his side hard enough to make him stagger and clutch Cross’s shirt for balance.

Rusty asked, “How did you figure out where we were? Or that there even was a problem? Or, whatever, is that trade secrets too?”

Cross said, “I have a tracker—”

“RJ,” his father snapped. “You know we don’t share security details.”

Cross glared at him. “We do with family.” Turning his back on his dad, he said, “There’s a tracker in each of my shoes, and in my phone, and watch, and in my car.

If I travel out of my normal circles with all of them, Amy’s people just monitor.

But if my shoe tracker separates from others farther than five hundred feet without me checking in first, they go on alert.

If I don’t answer the phone when they call, they go on red alert. ”

Amy added, “I dispatched one of my local contractors to send a team to check out the situation. If it was some kind of weird date, you wouldn’t have known they were there. But since they found a couple of armed thugs in an abandoned house and you in the basement, they moved in.”

“Oh. Okay. Makes sense.” Rusty was reeling.

Not just from being fucking kidnapped or from holy fucking tweaked out Tyler with a gun!

But also from Cross saying “we do with family.” Rusty’s stupid throat wanted to close up and his eyes prickled.

He didn’t have family. Hadn’t since the moment he’d said “gay” to his parents.

Since the moment he became as dead to them as Mike. Family. He blinked hard and breathed.

Amy glanced at him. “We’ll have to have some discussion about what precautions make sense for you going forward, Rusty, if you’re going to be with RJ.”

“But not tonight,” Cross insisted. Rusty wasn’t sure how Cross knew he needed his boyfriend’s strong arm around him, but he hadn’t let go.

Cross told his father, “Make that breakfast nine-thirty. We’ll see you then.

Give Mom my love when she arrives.” Then he added to Amy, “Can we get a car and a driver to head home now?”

“Absolutely. But I’m putting a perimeter team on your house, in case those two kidnappers weren’t the whole story. There’s no sign of any third party, but I’m not taking chances.”

“We could go to Scott’s,” Rusty suggested, just wanting to get out of there. “He’d be okay with that.”

“No offense to Scott,” Amy told him, “but his place has rather limited security. You two should be fine at home. I’ll just add some exterior precautions. No one will get in your way.”

Home. That shouldn’t have sounded as right as it did after just two weeks of living together.

But suddenly Rusty wanted nothing more than to fall into Cross’s big bed and hold him for a week.

As much as he hated to seem vulnerable in front of Cross’s father, he couldn’t help leaning toward Cross, pressing his face into Cross’s short, sweat-damp hair, and whispering, “Yeah, let’s go home. ”