Page 10 of Party of Three (Sapphire Cove Suite Secrets)

Jeff started for Buckley across the dance floor, reminding himself he’d faced down far more formidable opponents in his life, some of them armed. A close slow dance didn’t have to be awkward or tense. It could be a perfect opportunity to talk some quiet, forceful sense into the situation.

He’d apologize for hurting Mateo with his radio silence, but he’d also make clear he had every intention of telling the guy about Buckley’s lie.

All in a reasonable, mature tone, the kind he used with his junior Marines.

And he’d do it pronto, establishing dominance before the dangerous cupid could unleash that wicked little mouth on him. Again.

But when he took Buckley’s hand, looked into those big, beautiful eyes that seemed to smile even when his bow-shaped lips didn’t, all that came out was, “Where’d you find the band, firecracker?”

“Marisol did. They’re old friends of theirs from Huntington Park.

Most of them have regular gigs playing backup for big musicians so they get together on the weekends and do the songs they grew up with.

” The drowsy, lilting love song seemed to wrap its gently swaying arms around them both, and Jeff felt himself being seduced into forgetting his complaints about the evening entirely.

But it was Buckley who broke the silence.

“His parents can take away their support, but they can’t take away his culture.

That’s the theme for the evening, basically. ”

The statement’s sincerity and quiet force tugged at him, proved Buckley Mitchell could use his determination and smarts for something other than deception.

The idea of someone else doing such a good job of loving Mateo, protecting Mateo, warmed his heart.

What that said about his love for the guy felt as complicated as everything else about this night.

He was supposed to be putting the kid back in his place after their sparring session in the motor court, but Buckley’s cologne was citrusy and slightly sweet, and his half smile carried the seductive power of an embrace.

When Jeff looked into his blue eyes, he felt like a sailor heeding the call of a siren.

This particular rendition was one of the slowest, most lilting versions of “Bésame Mucho” he’d ever heard.

“Question, firecracker. What was your plan once I found out you lied to get me here?”

He didn’t flinch. “I was going to meet you at the front door and give you a piece of my mind first. I figured by then you’d be too shamed to object.”

“Gotcha. Well, I’m telling him what you did.”

Buckley’s smile grew. “But you haven’t yet.”

“I’ll tell him after, when there aren’t so many guests around.”

“So you’re having a terrible time and you hated seeing him again and you wish you hadn’t come and that talk you had over there was the worst thing you’ve ever experienced even though you were both grinning and laughing like schoolboys.”

Jeff felt himself blush. “A lie’s a lie.”

“I see. The hotel threw in a villa for the weekend. Tell him there. After. In case he gets upset. Which he won’t.

Because you’re here, and that’s what he wanted.

” Like it was nothing, inviting him back to their romantic hotel suite.

Maybe it was nothing. And the truth was, he didn’t want to ruin Mateo’s party.

“I’ll have champagne ready just in case,” Buckley added.

“His idea, by the way,” Jeff said. “That I dance with you, I mean.”

“And you’re only doing it to make him happy, is that it?”

“Basically.”

As if this were a respectful answer, Buckley nodded.

When he shot a look in Mateo’s direction, Jeff followed suit.

The expression on Mateo’s face caught him off guard, maybe because like so many other things about the man he’d encountered that night it was the product of a Mateo who was infinitely more comfortable in his skin than the one he’d first met.

Back then, he’d been bashful to a fault.

Off base, when he wasn’t standing at attention, he’d bow his head and smile nervously whenever he was uncomfortable, which was a lot.

Under Jeff’s strategic bursts of eye contact, he’d usually blush and fold, but for most of the evening he’d been meeting Jeff’s looks head on, returning them with expressions ranging from the joyful to the wounded to the…

How exactly to describe the way he was looking at him now? Leaning forward, elbows resting on the high-top table, watching the two of them with unguarded hunger.

Both of us , Jeff realized. He’s looking at both of us like that.

“Well, good,” Buckley said. “Tonight is about making Mateo happy.”

“I get it. So you’re that kind of guy,” Jeff said.

“ What kind of guy is that?”

“The kind who puts everyone else’s needs ahead of their own.”

Buckley cocked one eyebrow. “Pretty big assumption coming from someone who avoided getting to know me for a year.”

“Yeah, well, it usually means one thing.”

“Which is?”

Realizing he’d nervously looked away, Jeff returned his gaze to Buckley. “You’re afraid to admit what you want.”

“And what do I want, Master Sergeant Braxton?”

“You want to answer questions with questions, apparently.”

Buckley smiled. “You don’t ask questions. You make announcements. And give orders.”

“Why didn’t you call me and ask me not to come after you found out about us?”

Buckley’s smile got bigger. “Because I’m not sixteen.”

The scathing accuracy of the answer left Jeff’s mouth dry.

“Or it was a keep your friends close but your enemies closer kind of thing.”

Buckley’s slow nod seemed like a mask over a deeper, possibly painful, reaction, but he didn’t seem all that upset. This was definitely the guy you wanted holding your hand in the ambulance after you’d broken both legs.

“So you’re my enemy?” Buckley finally asked.

“Competition, maybe. Or you think so. And you’re wrong.”

“Since we’re doling out assumptions here, I’m going to go ahead and say I think you believe the worst of everyone because it makes you feel like you’re in control.”

“Trust me, I’ve got no illusions about controlling you, firecracker. Mateo says you’re unstoppable, and I believe him.”

“When I think something’s the right thing for someone. For someone I love. That’s why I spent a week trying to find your new address.”

“What’s the right thing for you though?”

“I love him more than anyone I’ve ever known, and his life isn’t complete without you. So I want you in it. Regardless of the risks.”

What risks was he referring to, especially since he’d just said he didn’t consider Jeff his competition? He wasn’t about to ask. Describing the risks might make him more susceptible to them.

“You know, this is one of his favorite songs,” Buckley said.

“Consuelo Velázquez wrote it before she’d ever kissed anyone.

She was twenty. When they asked her how she came up with it, she called it a product of her imagination.

He used to play it in his room when he was a kid and imagine kissing other boys.

He calls it his Consuelo Velázquez era.”

“How’d you two meet?” Jeff asked.

“Dating app.”

“Sweet. Traditional.”

Buckley laughed. “What, you thought I met him dancing on a bar?”

“I don’t know. You’ve certainly got the moves for it.”

“Thank you. I guess.”

“The moves he needs, anyway.”

“So he doesn’t get to have the man he worships in his life because he couldn’t bottom for you?”

“Watch your step, firecracker.”

Buckley squeezed Jeff’s palm and smiled. “I’m leading, if you haven’t noticed,” he whispered.

“I’ll tell you what I just told him. I didn’t want to get in the way.”

“I see. So you think you’re my competition?”

“Before you were in play, there was a serious risk of Mateo giving me something he didn’t want to give ’cause he knew how bad I wanted it. I didn’t want him doing that. To himself or to me. That’s what I think.”

“So when it comes to him, we’re both martyrs, is that it?”

“I prefer mature .”

“Uh-huh. So turning your back on someone you love because you can’t own their ass is mature .”

“Lying to get what you want isn’t exactly what I’d call adult.”

They’d ended up back where they’d started this evening, but Buckley seemed delighted to be there again, and damn if Jeff didn’t feel a powerful heat in the hand with which he gripped Buckley’s, damn if he didn’t find it impossible to look away from the twinkle of a mischievous smile in Buckley’s stare.

Damn if it didn’t thrill him to think about the sweaty and passionate hours this strutting, confident man had spent drawing out the flirty, comfortable, self-assured version of Mateo he’d fallen in love with all over again that night.

He couldn’t decide if he wanted to turn Buckley Mitchell over his knee or taste him from head to toe, and he was starting to suspect if he put the decision to Buckley, the guy would say, Why choose?

“Lawyers for parents, right?” Jeff said. “You’re good at interrogations. Both sides of them.”

“My dad sold a tech company he started when I was a baby. My mom was his business affairs person. They were retired as long as I remember. Mostly they partied and traveled.”

“Gotcha. So raised by one lawyer, and you put people back together for a living. Sounds like you were the only adult in the house growing up.”

“That’s fair. And you?”

“Only lawyers my family ever dealt with were public defenders. I raised my little sister. Our parents weren’t really in the picture.”

“How’d that go?”

He hoped the memory stabbing him in the gut didn’t show on his face—he and his baby sister standing on the front porch of their old double-wide, their uncle pacing furiously before them as a dark realization set in.

It wasn’t the first time their parents had gone off on a bender.

But it was the first time they’d been gone more than two weeks.

And how did their uncle react once he realized he had no choice but to take in his alcoholic brother’s kids?

Blamed them for their parents’ addiction, that’s what.

If you kids hadn’t been so much stress , he’d said through clenched teeth, they wouldn’t have run off like this .

Forty plus years later, Jeff tried to breathe through the memory of the most stable person in his family accusing him and his sister of destroying their family through the crime of being six and seven years old.

It didn’t take a therapist to see why Jeff struggled to feel like he belonged in any place where he wasn’t given a specific rank along with a manual outlining standard operating procedures. And boy, was this night lacking in both.

“She’s a doctor today at Parkland, so I’d say, well enough.”

Buckley nodded, studying him as if he’d sensed the memory moving through him like a dark but fast-moving cloud. “You certainly did a good job with Mateo,” he finally said, softly, as if he wanted the words to be a comfort to a man clearly fighting pain.

“He’s not my child.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Thank you. But I’m still telling him you lied to get me here.”

He felt an arm curve around his shoulders, thought for a second that Buckley had grown a third one, then realized Mateo was enfolding them both in a wide embrace as he crooned the last words of the song.

Then he kissed them both on the cheek and tried to ruffle Jeff’s close-cropped hair with one hand, but his hair was so short the gesture turned into a rough rub that sent delicious chills coursing down Jeff’s back.

The same response Jeff had whenever Mateo touched him.

Crazy thing was he was getting it from Buckley’s grip now too.

But Mateo’s expression showed that same mix of fear and excitement Jeff had heard in the guy’s voice when he’d asked Jeff to slow dance with Buckley.

Buckley said, “Jeff’s going to come back to the villa with us after and hang out for a bit.

He has something super important to tell you.

” Buckley rolled his eyes so hard Jeff thought about smacking him on the butt.

“I’m going to go hand out some tip money and start wrapping things up.

It’s 6E in case anyone gets lost. Try to hold off on the big revelation until I get back. ”

Then Buckley was gone, and Jeff was trying to forget the villa number as hard as he could, even as it carved itself into his memory.