:: Robby ::
I couldn’t believe that I was a nervous wreck. Why, you ask? Mike’s coming home today. After ten long days in the hospital, he was coming to my house, to finish his recuperation and to hide out until we could catch Conrad Bass. I had cleaned the house from top to bottom and had the guest room prepared, secretly hoping that it would never be used. I wanted Mike in my bed, in my arms. He was already in my heart.
I’d been thinking more and more about him, I found. Nights of patrolling were interrupted with my calls to the hospital and he always answered with laughter in his voice.
You’re such a mother hen!
Clark laughed his ass off, thoroughly enjoying the sight of his usually super-masculine partner in the grips of love. He thanked me for the entertainment, saying that he now knew what he had looked like when he courted his wife. My spare hours were spent at the hospital, either watching Mike sleep or grabbing a few Zs in the chair, next to his bed. My partner was right. I was in love.
I went over the preparations in my mind again. I had a bouquet of roses in his bedroom, new soap in the shower and fresh towels there, too. The fridge was full of chocolate milk, his favorite and two snowy bottles of champagne were in the freezer, chilling nicely. Did I forget anything?
The doorbell startled me into motion and I almost tripped over my feet as I sailed to the door. Mike and Clark stood on the doorstep, Mike’s injured shoulder in a dark blue immobilizer. “Hi.”
“Hi. Come on in.” I wanted to kiss him but I didn’t want to gross Clark out. My partner softly snickered as he entered, setting several bags and a suitcase on the floor. “Want a beer, Clark?”
“Naw. I can’t stay. Sondra’s making chateaubriand for two tonight.”
“For two?”
“Yeah, the kids are at her mother’s, so … “ He winked. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“Make sure you’re able to walk tomorrow. I don’t want to have to carry you around all night.” I called as he ducked out.
He laughed. “Yeah! And make sure you take your own advice.”
:: Michael ::
I didn’t know what to expect from him so it was a shock when he closed the space between us and pulled me into his embrace, his mouth devouring mine with authority. I couldn’t help the tremble that snaked down my spine and I put my good arm around his waist, pressing my body against his. I sensed a difference in him and something in the way he responded to me partially wiped the uncertainty from my mind. I had worried that he was only interested in the sex and not in me. Now …?
“That’s a hell of a welcome.” I breathed, catching his dark sparkling eyes. He lowered his gaze, clearly uncomfortable with the passion he’d expressed.
He needs control.
The answer suddenly struck me.
He can’t control his feelings for me and he doesn’t know how to deal with that.
“No one’s ever accused me of being inhospitable.” He joked awkwardly, letting me go and taking a step back. I sensed the protective cop persona slipping back into place. “Are you hungry?”
“No, but I could use a drink.”
“Would champagne be okay? I bought a couple of bottles … “ He shrugged his shoulders, avoiding my eyes and stubbing the toe of his loafer into the carpet.
Oh, God! He’s nervous!
“Champagne would be marvelous.” I replied. “Champagne and a bath. A
real
bath.”
“That can be arranged.” His smile was genuine. “How about we get your bath started and pop the champagne?”
“Okay.” He gave me a quick tour of his house and I was surprised to find that it wasn’t overly masculine, like many apartments’ I’d seen. The furniture was tasteful. A bamboo couch, ottoman and armed chair occupied most of the living room along with bookcases filled with leather-bound books. I paused to read some of the titles, amazed to find Dostoevsky and Thoreau huddled on those shelves.
The kitchen was spartan, a lone non-stick pan on the stove’s top. Green and red apples were perched in a teak bowl on the island and I noted that he liked green apple Palmolive to clean his dishes. The basement was musty-smelling and carpeted. A big screen TV was in one corner surrounded by comfortable chairs and a bar was just opposite. An upended bongo drum held cue sticks for the forest green-felted pool table and the other corner was occupied by a treadmill, weight machine and rowing machine.
There were three bathrooms, one each in the basement, main floor and second floor. The top floor contained three bedrooms. The first room was an office workout area, complete with computer. The second room was the master suite, done in varying shades of blue. The king-size bed had an inviting plump comforter and loads of pillows. The side wall held a grouping of watercolors, mostly of water scenes, fishing boats and one of an elderly woman holding a dog.
“My grandmother, Elisa.” He offered. “She sat for that just before she died.”
“Did you do these?” His silence gave me an answer. Robby Munroe was such a conundrum. Hard on the outside, soft as a gooey caramel on the inside. I scrutinized the paintings, amazed at the emotion that oozed out of the watercolors. “You should show these, Robby. They’re magnificent!”
He nodded slightly and moved through to the next room. Another room, again tastefully done and colorful, especially with the dozen roses in the dresser vase. “Are these for me?”
“Yes.”
I slipped one out and inhaled the gentle scent. I broke the bottom of the stem off, tucking it into a buttonhole of his shirt. “How about that bath?”
:: Robby ::
I opened the champagne, put the frosty bottle into the steel bucket and placed it on the tray beside the chilled glasses and carried it up to my bathroom. Mike was soaking in the water, his eyes closed and his injured shoulder above the water line. I set the tray on the rattan stand, his eyes opening lazily at the noise. I opened the bottle, handed him a glass and poured the foamy liquid. I filled my own glass and looked at him.
“To us.” Our glasses clinked and I watched, hypnotized by the sight of his soft lips on the edge of the glass. “Thank you for becoming my protector.”
I didn’t know what to say. He was talking to the cop in me and the cop responded in kind. “It’s not a problem.”
“Would you protect everyone like this?”
I answered truthfully. “If that’s what was required, yes.”
