Sticks and Stones by Madeleine Urban ; Abigail Roux Page A

just meant Ty was thinking the same thing. He could still hear the other members of the household moving about, preparing for bed. Until the house settled, they would need to at least pretend they wouldn’t jump each other at the first chance.
    The lights on the landing were still on, and Ty stood to go turn them off and shut the bedroom door. He flicked off the light beside the door, throwing the room into temporary inky darkness. When Zane’s eyes began to adjust, he could see Ty still standing by the closed door. Zane smiled again. He hoped Ty remembered to wake up to do whatever he had planned, because Ty definitely had something in mind. Sex would be great, of course—it always was—but Zane would be happy to settle for simply holding him. Something about hearing Ty breathe, so calm and close, was reassuring in ways Zane didn’t examine too closely.
    “Good night, Ty,” Zane murmured as he scooted under the sheet.
    “Shut up,” Ty grumbled as he moved through the darkness toward the blankets on the floor.

    I T WAS nearly pitch black outside when Ty finally got restless enough to sit up. He sat cross-legged on the cold floor, staring out the bedroom window for a long, dull moment before he pushed the blanket aside and stood. The cool air hit him and made him shiver all over as he looked down at Zane, asleep in the bed.
    Ty stood looking over him in the faint light from the moon through the window. He looked older, worn thin and worried even in sleep. Tense. It was something Ty had tried for weeks to fix, trying to get Zane to just let go of the past and enjoy the present. But the more Zane had resisted, the less Ty had cared about trying to help him. He didn’t like where that left them, but he didn’t know how to change it. The only things they really seemed to be good at were getting into trouble or getting into each other.
    Ty reached over and brushed his fingers against Zane’s cheek. His fingers had barely grazed skin when Zane reacted. He shot up and shoved hard with both hands, sending Ty back to the floor. Just as quickly, his hand was digging under the pillow, scrabbling for his gun. Ty hit the floor with a thump and immediately rolled to his side, covering his head and hoping Zane’s gun either wasn’t loaded or wasn’t there.
    “Goddamnit,” Zane hissed when he didn’t find it, and he swiped at the bedside lamp, almost knocking it over and having to grab for it before fumbling to switch it on.
    Ty was already shaking with silent laughter as he rolled onto his back. He looked up at the side of the bed in a mixture of relief and amusement.
    Zane groaned and flopped back onto the bed, throwing his arm over his eyes. “I knew it was a good idea to leave my gun in my bag,” he muttered half into the pillow.
    “I appreciate that,” Ty assured him in a whisper as he got to his knees and rested his elbows on the side of the bed. Rolling to his side, Zane squinted at him obstinately. “You didn’t want me to wake you?” Ty asked him with a knowing smile.
    Zane relaxed onto his back, his eyes focusing as he looked at Ty. Ty smiled up at him, silent as he listened to make sure no one was coming to check on the noise. When he was convinced that everyone was still asleep, he climbed up onto the bed and lowered himself carefully to rest on his belly beside Zane. Zane threw the covers over him.
    “Thanks,” Ty whispered as he settled into the warmth. “I used to wake up swinging when I came home on leave,” he told Zane quietly after a moment. “Almost decked my mama once. Dad made me sleep in the garage the next night.”
    “No wonder you don’t visit your family a lot.”
    “Oh, a summer spent without being relegated to the garage was a summer wasted,” Ty told him fondly. “I don’t visit as much as I should,” he answered guiltily. “Since the Tri-State case I haven’t at all.”
    “Is it weird for you? Me being here with you?” Zane asked softly.
    “Yeah,” Ty answered with a