about Jack’s position on global warming?”
“Nope. Global warming doesn’t exist and it’s a left-wing conspiracy.” Stone rolled his eyes. “All I have to do is say pretty much the opposite of what I think, and I’ve got this guy nailed.”
“His foreign-policy positions are generally sensible,” Christian retorted.
“Yeah, and I’ll bet you wrote every one of them, didn’t you?”
“Well, maybe.”
Stone grinned and started for the door as a knock announced the arrival of their late snack.
“Sit,” Christian ordered firmly. “You’re the senator. Other people do the menial chores for you.” He was amused at the ensuing tirade from Stone, delivered entirely under his breath. “You must be fun in a foxhole with a mouth like that.”
“You have no idea,” Stone drawled, sticking his tongue in his cheek.
Christian rolled his eyes at the crude gesture. “Crawl back up onto the curb.”
“Hey, you’re the one who said it.”
And that was how eating egg-salad sandwiches turned into a metaphor for their relationship. Stone grinned unrepentantly and charged ahead, while Christian glared disapprovingly and held back.
After the light meal, he asked, “Do you need me to go down to your suite and get any of your stuff for you since you’ll be staying here now?”
“Actually, my gear needs to come down here where I can keep an eye on it.”
Glad for an excuse to escape Stone’s magnetic appeal, he headed down the hall. The metal trunk in the corner of Stone’s room was surprisingly heavy. He hoisted it onto his back and hauled it down the hallway without any trouble, though.
Stone jumped forward to help with the trunk as he swung it off his back in Jack’s suite.
“What’s in this thing, anyway?” Christian asked.
“Surveillance gear. Spare ammo. Bullet-resistant vests. The usual.”
Right. Usual. “You live in a strange, strange world, Mr. Jackson.”
“And getting stranger by the second.”
He went back to Stone’s room to fetch underwear, razor, and toothbrush. Impersonating Jack Lacey could only be carried so far, after all.
It felt weird to be handling Stone’s personal stuff. Which was disconcerting, given that they’d crawled all over each other’s bodies already. How much did he really know about the security man? He’d been so gobsmacked by all that sizzling sexuality that he hadn’t really stopped to know the man himself. And he couldn’t very well start asking Stone a lot of personal questions now. He needed the guy to immerse himself in being Jack Lacey, not dredging up childhood memories and digging into what made Stone Jackson tick. He sighed.
He found a small sports duffel and stuffed in Stone’s undies and toothbrush. He was careful to leave the room looking lived-in, in case a maid from the hotel were to say something to the wrong person. Which was probably a little more paranoia than the situation called for. But he was more nervous about pulling off the impersonation ruse than he cared to admit.
It might be Stone’s job to anticipate everything that could go wrong, but it was his job to focus on everything that could go well. Stone needed a cheerleader right now, not a naysayer. The man was already skeptical enough about this project without him adding his own doubts and fears to the equation. As always, he repressed what he was really feeling and painted on a positive face as he stepped back into the senator’s suite.
“Thanks, man,” Stone said warmly as he took the bag from Christian and peered inside. “That was thoughtful of you.”
“That’s me. Always thinking.”
“Yeah. I noticed. Do you ever let your hair down and go off the clock? You know, just relax?”
“I met you in a bar. Drinking. I was relaxing.”
“That’s unwinding, not relaxing. Doesn’t count.”
He’d been more relaxed than he had been in years when he’d woken up in Stone’s bed. But he wasn’t about to hand over the power that sharing such a detail would
“Nope. Global warming doesn’t exist and it’s a left-wing conspiracy.” Stone rolled his eyes. “All I have to do is say pretty much the opposite of what I think, and I’ve got this guy nailed.”
“His foreign-policy positions are generally sensible,” Christian retorted.
“Yeah, and I’ll bet you wrote every one of them, didn’t you?”
“Well, maybe.”
Stone grinned and started for the door as a knock announced the arrival of their late snack.
“Sit,” Christian ordered firmly. “You’re the senator. Other people do the menial chores for you.” He was amused at the ensuing tirade from Stone, delivered entirely under his breath. “You must be fun in a foxhole with a mouth like that.”
“You have no idea,” Stone drawled, sticking his tongue in his cheek.
Christian rolled his eyes at the crude gesture. “Crawl back up onto the curb.”
“Hey, you’re the one who said it.”
And that was how eating egg-salad sandwiches turned into a metaphor for their relationship. Stone grinned unrepentantly and charged ahead, while Christian glared disapprovingly and held back.
After the light meal, he asked, “Do you need me to go down to your suite and get any of your stuff for you since you’ll be staying here now?”
“Actually, my gear needs to come down here where I can keep an eye on it.”
Glad for an excuse to escape Stone’s magnetic appeal, he headed down the hall. The metal trunk in the corner of Stone’s room was surprisingly heavy. He hoisted it onto his back and hauled it down the hallway without any trouble, though.
Stone jumped forward to help with the trunk as he swung it off his back in Jack’s suite.
“What’s in this thing, anyway?” Christian asked.
“Surveillance gear. Spare ammo. Bullet-resistant vests. The usual.”
Right. Usual. “You live in a strange, strange world, Mr. Jackson.”
“And getting stranger by the second.”
He went back to Stone’s room to fetch underwear, razor, and toothbrush. Impersonating Jack Lacey could only be carried so far, after all.
It felt weird to be handling Stone’s personal stuff. Which was disconcerting, given that they’d crawled all over each other’s bodies already. How much did he really know about the security man? He’d been so gobsmacked by all that sizzling sexuality that he hadn’t really stopped to know the man himself. And he couldn’t very well start asking Stone a lot of personal questions now. He needed the guy to immerse himself in being Jack Lacey, not dredging up childhood memories and digging into what made Stone Jackson tick. He sighed.
He found a small sports duffel and stuffed in Stone’s undies and toothbrush. He was careful to leave the room looking lived-in, in case a maid from the hotel were to say something to the wrong person. Which was probably a little more paranoia than the situation called for. But he was more nervous about pulling off the impersonation ruse than he cared to admit.
It might be Stone’s job to anticipate everything that could go wrong, but it was his job to focus on everything that could go well. Stone needed a cheerleader right now, not a naysayer. The man was already skeptical enough about this project without him adding his own doubts and fears to the equation. As always, he repressed what he was really feeling and painted on a positive face as he stepped back into the senator’s suite.
“Thanks, man,” Stone said warmly as he took the bag from Christian and peered inside. “That was thoughtful of you.”
“That’s me. Always thinking.”
“Yeah. I noticed. Do you ever let your hair down and go off the clock? You know, just relax?”
“I met you in a bar. Drinking. I was relaxing.”
“That’s unwinding, not relaxing. Doesn’t count.”
He’d been more relaxed than he had been in years when he’d woken up in Stone’s bed. But he wasn’t about to hand over the power that sharing such a detail would
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