Valor on the Move by Keira Andrews Page B

do these still work if they get wet?”
    Shane glanced over. “Yes. Don’t worry.”
    “I’m not worried. You’re here, so…”
    Silently, Shane shimmied out of his jacket and rolled up his white shirt sleeves. Leaning over, he brushed against Rafa as he turned on the vents. It was lukewarm air as the engine warmed.
    Rafa’s throat was dry as he shivered. “Did you…are you very wet? I’m so sorry. Are you going to have to stay in a damp suit all night?”
    “It’s fine. I got splashed, but it’s mostly just my legs.”
    Rafa reached out and ran his hand over Shane’s damp forearm, as if he could dry him off. “I’m sorry.” He stopped moving his hand, and it rested on Shane’s arm. What are you doing? Stop touching him! But Rafa didn’t budge. He could feel damp hair under his palm, and barely resisted the urge to roll the hair between his fingertips.
    Shane stared at Rafa’s hand on his arm, and his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. When he lifted his gaze, it was so dark and intense that a breathless shiver spun through Rafa.
    Then Shane moved, putting the Suburban in drive, and Rafa yanked his hand back to his lap. He cleared his throat, praying he could speak without squeaking.
    “And your shoes. Ugh, wet socks and shoes are the worst. And they’re leather too. I’ll replace them.”
    “They’ll dry. It’s fine, Rafa.” Shane kept his eyes on the deserted road as they wound through the trees, but his face softened into an almost-smile. “As long as you’re okay, everything’s good.”
    He knew it was Shane’s job. He knew Shane didn’t mean anything more than that. But it still made Rafa warm from the inside out.

Chapter Eight
 
    At the foot of the stairs, Shane checked his watch. Eleven fifty-nine.
    He held his walkie to his mouth for his report. “Checking in. Valor secure. Over and out.”
    The radio crackled. “Ten-four.”
    Aside from the one night by the river—which Shane tried very hard not to think about—it had been four nights now that he’d slipped up to the third floor at midnight to eat Rafa’s creations and linger far too long listening to the kid talk.
    Rafa.
    He should think of him as Valor or Rafael, but the nickname always came to mind first now. Which was fine—most everyone called Valor that. But it wasn’t his role to be spending this much time with his protectee up in that kitchen.
    And it definitely wasn’t his role to be hugging him. Even if he’d been ridiculously relieved that Rafa was okay after he’d toppled off the rock. Of course I was relieved. Keeping him in one piece is my damn job. That’s all it was. Yet it had felt alarmingly natural as they’d laughed to wrap Rafa in his arms.
    He sighed. Good thing he had the next day off before rotating to the day shift. Alan would be back too, and things would return to normal.
    But Shane couldn’t stop the pang that echoed through him at the idea of not spending time with Rafa alone anymore. He’d really enjoyed their late-night talks and tasting sessions. Maybe a little too much.
    Not that anything had happened , but girlfriend or not, there was no question in Shane’s mind now that Rafael Castillo was gay, or at least bi. The desire practically came off the kid in waves. Shane should never have mentioned his own sexuality, but he hadn’t thought about it at the time as being an issue. Not that it was an issue now. But the kid clearly had a crush on him.
    On one hand, it was sweet and harmless. Rafael Castillo was likely closeted and lonely, and Shane didn’t want to hurt his feelings. But he was treading on dangerous ground. A situation like this could blow up in his face. Aside from a few unfortunate incidents involving alcohol and prostitutes on foreign details, there hadn’t been any scandals in the service the past decade. He sure as hell wasn’t going to cause one now by encouraging this crush and having it go south.
    Especially since that dangerous ground was becoming more and more