Zane snorted. “It’s not deep down. We really do enjoy… fighting.” He made himself take another drink to stop the smile, his eyes still focused on Ty. God, he wished Ty would wake up and argue with him right now. It would go a long way toward reassuring him that Ty was going to be okay. He could really go for a good fight, one where they yelled about something stupid and pushed each other around and ended up f**king each other silly and then holding each other all night after. He remembered their quiet talk in front of the fire in the trail cabin, where he’d deliberately told Ty something about himself that he knew full well Ty would take advantage of. More ammunition.

“So your observation that you may go forty-eight hours without a fight is actually one of disappointment,” Deuce surmised clinically. “The way you express your appreciation of each other is through insults and barbs. Once you start being nice to each other, it signifies an ebb in interest,” he pointed out with a smirk.

“We’re never nice to each oth—” Zane cut himself off and twitched. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from Ty, even knowing Deuce was watching, and Zane knew right then and there that he wouldn’t be giving Ty up without a fight. Ever. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment before turning a glare on Deuce.

Deuce merely raised one eyebrow and smiled in return. “And how does that make you feel, Special Agent Garrett?” he asked in a slow drawl.

Zane rolled his eyes, reached out, and popped Deuce on the back of the head, just like his mom did. “Asshole,” he muttered as he tried to suppress the panic threatening at the edge of his awareness.

Deuce laughed softly and twisted the cap back onto his bottle. “You’re welcome,” he said smugly.

“You better hope he’s really asleep,” Zane threatened.

“Because you don’t want him knowing how you feel about him?” Deuce asked.

Zane’s shoulders tightened. “He knows enough. Why else would we fight all the time?”

Deuce examined him for a long while before turning his eyes back to his sleeping brother. “I don’t know about that. Has he already started being nice to you?” he asked gently.

“We have our moments,” Zane allowed reluctantly, knowing he was contradicting himself.

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“And you don’t know if that’s just him being a decent human being or if it’s that he’s lost interest in trying to goad you on,” Deuce supplied softly.

Tipping his head sideways, Zane met Deuce’s eyes. “We’re partners. We don’t have to be at each other’s throats all the time,” he said with a slight shrug.

Deuce sat with his feet still propped on the bed and his arm resting on the side of the chair. He ran his finger back and forth across his lower lip as he watched Zane. “Ty has a protective streak a mile wide,” he finally said. “He always has. He takes a lot on himself. He doesn’t like to be leaned on because he’s terrified of letting people down. So being charged with protecting something, especially if it’s a job he’s not sure he can do, it’s something that weighs heavy on him. So when he has a choice, he only protects the things he holds close to his heart,” Deuce continued, giving his chest a pat.

“And?”

“That’s for you to figure out, Zane,” Deuce answered with a shrug.

Zane didn’t have anything else to say. He was pretty sure Ty cared about him, just as he cared about Ty. They were partners. They watched out for one another. They depended on each other. Only Zane was finding himself more and more attached to Ty—and that was something that scared him.

Deuce sat silently as Zane mulled it over, the hiss of his bottle cap as he twisted it off the only sound he made. “I’ll send Ty the bill,” he finally said with a small smile.

Chapter 17

“SHOULD he be traveling as sick as he is?” Mara Grady asked worriedly as she fussed back and forth between Ty and the pies she was preparing in the kitchen. “Maybe he should stay here until he’s feeling better.”

“I’m feeling better, Ma,” Ty called out from where he sat on the couch, covered in blankets and holding a mug of hot chocolate his mother had shoved into his hands.

“You are not,” she insisted from the kitchen as she banged a pie plate onto the counter and began rattling utensils and plates.

“God hates me,” Ty muttered from under one of the heavy quilts she had draped over him.

Zane snorted from where he was sprawled in a rocking chair across from the couch, under an afghan of his own. Mara had taken to mothering him too. “If God hated you that cat would have bitten you somewhere more sensitive,” he said, teasing.

“Yeah, wait ’til the drugs wear off and I can tell which one of you is real,” Ty grumbled at him. He sniffed at the air as the smell of apple pie began to waft to them.

“When do you have to go?” Mara called.

“Leave the boy alone,” Earl told her from his seat in the kitchen, and their voices dropped as they continued talking quietly to each other. Ty sat and scowled at Zane.

“I’d say it’ll freeze that way, but you might like it to,” Zane murmured as he rocked, the chair squeaking a little.

“When are we leaving?” Ty asked.

Zane was quiet for a long moment as he watched Ty. “I’m leaving tomorrow.”

Ty inclined his head and frowned harder. “You’re not leaving me here,” he whispered harshly.

“Don’t you think you need to rest and heal up instead of driving all the way back to Baltimore?” Zane asked. “It’ll be a hell of a lot easier for you to fly home. It’s only a short drive to the airport in Charleston.”

“Don’t you think you should be baking pies or something?” Ty responded gruffly.

“I bet you already know how,” Zane said. “Deliverance.”

“What the hell does that have to do with pie?” Ty asked in annoyance.

“Just a comment about your wide and varied skills.” Zane paused. “Of which healing seems to need some practice.”

“I heal just fine,” Ty argued. “And you’re one to talk,” he added, pointing at the colorful bruise that stretched from his very black eye along the full line of Zane’s cheekbone, which was apparently so painful that Zane hadn’t shaved his beard off yet. Zane wrinkled his nose and winced.

“You boys want more hot chocolate?” Mara called out as Deuce came thumping into the living room and threw himself onto the couch beside Ty.




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