Free A Case of Christmas by Josh Lanyon Page B

findings.”
    “Oh, to hell with your investigation,” Shane snapped. “It’s been over two years. You
    could have contacted me.”
    “You also could have contacted me ,” Linus said. “You work for one of the biggest
    and most powerful law enforcement agencies in the world. If you’d wanted to find me,
    you could have done it.”
    “Clearly you didn’t want to be found.”
    “Didn’t I?”
    Shane tried to read Linus’s expression. “ Did you?”
    “I don’t know.” Linus’s eyes met Shane’s. He swallowed, said, “I thought I was a
    joke to you.”
    Shane’s jaw dropped. “A joke ?”
    “I was a joke to you. And I did it to myself.” Linus smiled, a funny, rueful sort of
    grimace. “I created this goofball, and then I was stuck with that character.” He met
    Shane’s eyes. “Yeah. I did. I did hope that you might come after me. That I mattered
    enough that you’d want to find out what happened.”
    It sort of felt like when Schrader’s blade had slid right into his guts. A thrill so deep,
    so shocking, it took a few seconds to recognize it for pain. Shane felt winded. Weak.
    “I… It wasn’t like that,” Shane said. “I didn’t think you cared. I thought it was pretty
    clear you didn’t. Even once I figured out that you had been hired to investigate me, it
    never crossed my mind that I was anything but a case to you.”
    Linus’s brows drew together. “No. Jesus, it was embarrassing how fast I fell for you.
    I kept telling myself I needed a little distance, but it was all I could do not to tell you
    what was going on. And then, when it was over, I thought that if you did care, you’d
    come after me. And if you didn’t, then that was the answer. And I knew that was the
    answer because you’d made it clear from the start you just wanted a little fun, a little
    relaxation.”
    “At the start, yeah. But later…” Shane shook his head, whispered, “No. Not even
    close.”
    He thought he moved first, but who moved first was no longer at issue. He reached
    for Linus, and Linus was right there. Their mouths met. Linus tasted cold and like he’d
    had a shot of something before he’d braved going out to pound on Shane’s door. His kiss
    was careful, experimental—or maybe that was Shane because it was important not to get
    this wrong.
    You only got so many do-overs, and if that’s what this was—and it tasted as sweet
    and intoxicating as a second chance—he didn’t want to ruin it.
    Linus groaned softly, and one of his arms slid around Shane’s waist. Shane wrapped
    an arm around Linus’s shoulders—he wanted more than the press of mouths—and
    Linus’s chilly lips heated beneath the pressure of Shane’s. Or maybe, again, that was
    Shane. This was the first moment he’d felt really warm since he’d arrived on the island.
    Or left it, that long-ago spring.
    Their mouths parted, Linus pulling back enough to look Shane in the eyes. His own
    gaze was very blue, very sincere. “I’m sorry. If I had known—if I’d realized—” He
    shook his head.
    “I don’t know why I was so quick to assume it couldn’t be real,” Shane said. “It felt
    real at the time.”
    He had never been afraid to take chances professionally, but in his personal life?
    Until now he hadn’t realized how few emotional risks he took. None. And this was what
    it had cost him. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

    The room was dark, the sheets were a little musty, and there was a draft whispering
    from the doors leading out onto the small deck, but it was as if spring had arrived early
    all the same. They held each other and kissed and kissed and kissed. Sweet and light
    kisses. Dark and deep kisses. Apology and acceptance and aloha, which meant both
    good-bye and hello, and seemed appropriate even if it wasn’t something people said on
    this island. Shane and Linus were on their own island, and it was in bloom.
    “Can we do this? I don’t want to hurt you,” Linus said softly, as they moved