Page 66 of Pretty Poison

Asher cupped his cheek and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “You were and still are the sexiest person in the world. When the bust went down, I volunteered to take your statement. I just had to see if you were as hot up close.”

Rocky laughed. “Then I propositioned you without realizing it.”

“And I knew you weren’t aware the words had come out of your mouth,” Asher admitted.

“And still you came over.”

“I’m not even sure I was consciously aware of it when I drove to your apartment. I remember telling the guys I was heading home instead of the bar to celebrate the big takedown. Next thing I knew, I was knocking on your door. I told you I didn’t know how to be myself, and you showed me the way.” Asher made a little growly noise and tightened his hold on Rocky. “I told myself we’d have sex once and that would be it.”

Rocky slid his hands through Asher’s hair. “Except you never left.”

Asher laughed. “I couldn’t. You were everything I never knew I needed. Your handsome face and sweet ass might’ve lured me to your door, but your wit, loyal heart, and exceptional taste in music is what hooked me. And three months later, I convinced you to marry me. The twelve months that followed our wedding were the happiest of my life.”

“The past fifteen months have been the worst,” Rocky whispered. “But our dreams weren’t broken.”

“Only delayed.” Asher kissed him once more. “Go to sleep, baby. I’ll be here to help you fight all the ghosts,” Asher whispered in the dark just before Rocky drifted to sleep.

“Christ, is this going to be an everyday occurrence?”

Asher’s gruff morning voice stirred Rocky from a deep slumber, but he refused to open his eyes or lift his head from his husband’s chest.

“You should be more concerned if you wake up and I’m not draped over your body like a cheap suit.” Rocky yawned. “Fine. I’ll go back to my side of the bed.”

Asher chuckled and slid his hand down Rocky’s back to grab a handful of his ass. “I like you right here,” he said, then pressed a kiss to the top of Rocky’s head. “Your sleeping position wasn’t what I was talking about, though.”

Rocky lifted his head and cracked his eyes open. He immediately regretted his decision because it felt like sand had gotten trapped under his lids during sleep. He blinked to clear the grittiness, but it only made Rocky’s eyes water and blurred Asher’s roguish face. Taking it as a sign, he closed his eyes and lowered his head back to his husband’s chest. He started to clarify what Asher had meant, but his exhausted brain finally registered something other than his husband’s hunky body. His cell phone was ringing in the living room again. When it finally quieted, faint strands of “Fade into You” teased Rocky’s consciousness. He’d left it playing all night.

How apropos, considering their current position. Rocky hoisted his leg higher over Asher’s thighs, doing his best to meld deeper into his husband. “Probably a wrong number,” Rocky said. Reality snuffed his wishful thinking a second later when the phone started ringing again. “Fuck,” he grumbled as he tore himself away from Asher. “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back.”

Asher rolled onto his side and burrowed his head into his pillow. “Hurry.”

Indeed.Rocky moved swiftly into the living room and nearly tripped over his forgotten fort when he retrieved the phone from the coffee table. He wasn’t at all surprised to see his nana was the one waking him up.

“Good morning, sunshine,” he said into the phone.

“You sound like death warmed over,” Queen Bea said. “Are you sick?”

“No.”

“Hungover?”

“Definitely not. Just tired,” Rocky said, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“I can’t believe you’re still in bed.”

Her incredulous tone made Rocky panic for a second. Was he late for work again? Rocky squinted at the cable box and groaned when he saw the time.

“It’s barely seven o’clock, Nana.”

“Hey, it’s better than five thirty.”

“What in the world propels you out of bed so damn early?” Rocky asked.

“Maureen,” Queen Bea answered.

Rocky ran his fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp while trying to conjure a face to go with the name. “Is she one of the ladies you played canasta with?”

Nana snorted. “Hell no. She’s one of the night nurses who drags us out of bed at ungodly hours. The dayshift nurses get pissy if we’re not up and dressed when they start their rounds at seven. Isn’t that right, Deidre?”