Free Sunset Hearts by Macy Largo Page A

little after seven. Despite that, Alan still didn’t cross the kitchen to kiss him hello.
    “Hey,” Alan simply said.
    Jerald nodded and set the plastic bag on the table. “Hey.” He glanced over and noticed Daphne struggling to get off the couch and into the office chair. He dove for her, catching her as she lost her balance when the chair skittered out from under her.
    She blushed. “Thank you,” she softly said as he helped her into the chair.
    He wondered if she ever raised her voice. She sounded so timid that it led credence to her domestic abuse story. “No problem.”
    “I’ll leave you guys alone.” She started scooching her way across the living room floor, using her toes to move the chair.
    Jerald reached out and grabbed the back of the chair. “That’s okay. Don’t worry about it. You don’t have to leave.”
    She warily eyed him. “I don’t mind giving you two privacy. I’ll go eat in my room.”
    Out of the corner of his eye he saw Alan watched their interaction.
    “Don’t be silly,” Jerald insisted as he pushed her across the living room to the kitchen table. “I’m off duty. I promise, no interrogations or bright lights. I even left my rubber hose at home.”
    She actually laughed, despite blushing again. Even her laugh sounded quiet.
    “Don’t let him fool you,” Alan joked. “He keeps a spare rubber hose in his pants.”
    She laughed again, sounding a little more relaxed. Jerald bit his tongue not to reply, but his heart raced at the playful smile on Alan’s face.
    He’d been forgiven.
    When Jerald stepped behind Daphne’s chair, Alan silently mouthed, “Thank you,” to him.
    Jerald felt heat fill his face. He nodded before taking a seat at the table.
    “You’re staying for dinner, right?” Alan asked him. “I made plenty.”
    “Yeah, thanks.”
    Alan was in the process of breading cube steaks. He rinsed the flour from his hands and opened the plastic bag. He arched an eyebrow at Jerald as he held up the spool. “Fishing line?”
    “You said you needed some,” he mumbled. “I figured I’d pick it up for you.”
    Alan winked at him again. “Thank you. That’s very thoughtful. I appreciate it.”
     
      * * * *
     
    Alan desperately struggled not to laugh as he turned his back on them and set the spool of fishing line on the counter, out of his way. Fishing line!
    So it wasn’t flowers or a card. In Jerald Carter’s world, it meant a lot more than some mushy, sentimental mumbo-jumbo. Alan had mentioned a few days ago that he needed to add a spool of fishing line to his next shopping list, but he’d forgotten to do it.
    Jerald might appear to be a stonewalled hardass to those who didn’t know him, but inside hid a sweet, lovable marshmallow.
    Translated, fishing line was Major Carter-ese for “I’m sorry I acted like an asshole.”
    That and the fact that he’d tried to make nice with Daphne.
    While Alan cooked dinner, his back turned to them, Jerald talked with Daphne. Alan sensed her starting to loosen up around Jerald, which would be good for both of them. She had no family, no friends who could take her in. He didn’t know her whole story, but he would get it out of her eventually.
    She wasn’t going anywhere if he had anything to say about it. He didn’t want to lose Jerald, but the other man would have to get used to having her around for the foreseeable future.
     
    * * * *
     
    During dinner, Alan’s cell rang. He left the room to take it, then returned a moment later. “Would you mind if I took a charter tomorrow morning?” he asked Jerald.
    “Why would I mind?”
    He nodded toward Daphne, who sat with her back to him.
    Jerald realized what he meant—babysitting. “I’ll be around in the morning.” He had been hoping to start moving in. Who was he kidding? He didn’t have much. He could have been totally moved in by lunch if he got his butt in gear early enough and with both of them packing his stuff.
    That wouldn’t happen now, though.