Free Cut and Run 07 Touch & Geaux by Abigail Roux Page A

“Zane.” His voice was hushed and pensive. “Sometimes I’m not capable of expressing how grateful I am for you.”
    “What do you mean?”
    Ty put a hand to his own chest, visibly struggling to find the right words. “For your . . . So few people have ever understood the way I work. In here.” He tapped his chest. “Thank you for . . . your insight.”
    The words were sincere, but so unlike anything Ty usually said. Zane was struck dumb by the notion. He could only nod.
    Ty rolled out of bed, breaking the spell of the moment. Zane lay stunned for another few seconds as Ty pulled on a pair of sweatpants. Then he sat on the end of the bed, watching Ty, letting his words settle somewhere deep. His fingers rested on the pile of fresh towels, and his eyes were drawn to one of them. He didn’t know why it bothered him, but they were folded wrong, different from the others in the bathroom.
    “Jesus,” he whispered. Ty’s OCD was starting to rub off on him. He forced himself to get up and pull on his boxers and follow Ty to the balcony.
    “You owe me a story, you know,” he said as soon as he stepped out.
    “A story?”
    “Yeah. I told you one of mine, you have to tell me one of yours.”
    “None of mine are quite as lascivious as yours,” Ty mumbled as he settled into one of the chairs.
    “Humor me. Tell me about the Marine you said you got involved with.”
    “Nope.”
    “Ty!”
    “Nope, nope, nope.”
    “Come on! Please?”
    A smile spread across Ty’s face and he glanced sideways at Zane. He was teasing him, the bastard.
    “As you wish,” Ty drawled, amused.
    Zane brought out his pack of cigarettes, but Ty reached and placed a hand over them. Zane met his eyes, prepared to argue for his right to smoke while they were here, but then Ty pulled one of his cigars out and handed it to Zane instead.
    “Cuban?” Zane asked.
    “Only if you’re not a Fed.”
    “Deal.”
    “Where’s your lighter?” Ty asked.
    “I lost it.”
    Ty flopped his hands dramatically. “This is why we can’t have nice things, Zane!”
    The scuff of a boot heel below drew Zane’s attention before he could respond. They both sat up straighter, peering at the edge of the balcony. Zane jumped when a hand reached up and grabbed onto the bottom of the railing. They were five stories high.
    A second later, Nick’s head appeared over the edge. All Zane could do was blink at him.
    Nick grinned and pulled himself up, rolling over the railing and landing with ease and silence. The man was an impressive specimen, Zane would give him that.
    “What the hell, man?” Ty said.
    “Maid parked a housekeeping cart in front of our room. We couldn’t get it to budge.”
    “So climbing the building was easier than climbing over the cart?”
    Nick laughed, then turned to peer over the railing. “Come on, son, you’re getting slow.”
    “I really haven’t had occasion to climb buildings in the last couple years, okay?” a voice said from over the edge. “ Why do you know how to do this so easily?”
    Nick reached down and helped Kelly climb onto the balcony. Kelly leaned against the railing and took a deep breath as Nick clapped him on the shoulder. They both looked at Ty and Zane, grinning.
    Ty glanced at Zane, not even trying to explain.
    Nick pulled two bottles out of his pockets and offered them to Ty and Zane. The one he handed Zane was water. Zane glanced up at him, surprised. How the hell did Nick know he wouldn’t drink a beer? Nick merely gave him a gentle smile. He took another beer out of somewhere and sat in the chair beside Ty, kicking his feet onto the railing. Kelly did the same, settling in the chair on Zane’s other side and producing more bottles, setting them on the ground for later.
    Nick took a long drink as Zane stared at his profile.
    Nick smiled, not looking at them. “We knew you’d be out here eventually. After you got the knocking boots out of the way. The housekeeping around here is kind of aggressive, huh?