Hidden Passions (Hidden, #7)(34)

Well, hell, Tony thought, watching him disappear around the corner. More free time to climb the walls wasn't what he'd been hoping for.

~

When Tony arrived at the brownstone a half hour later, he was shocked to discover Chris sitting on the front steps. The sun had set, and the light was on in the vestibule. Like most shifters Chris wasn't sensitive to cold. Though it was November, he wore cotton trousers and a light sport jacket. The simple button-down shirt that covered his big chest made it seem like he'd almost dressed up. He looked amazing--his 6'8" height, his gold-streaked hair, his running back's solid legs. Tony hardly knew what to stare at first; every part of Chris seemed designed to appeal to every part of him. In the end, he targeted Chris's eyes.

They squinted at Tony like he wasn't sure of his welcome.

"Hey," he said, rising a little awkwardly as Tony came around the front of Rick's car. Before he went off the grid, Rick had ditched the Buick at Cass's place. Tony had reclaimed it for him.

With a sense of unreality, he beeped the doors locked with Rick's key ring remote. He stopped an arm's length away from Chris. He wasn't going to react, not until he knew what the tiger was doing here.

"You know this is a nosy neighborhood, right?" he said. "Everyone around here knows who belongs where."

Chris smiled faintly. "I did notice a few inquiring looks." He shrugged one shoulder more than the other. "I wanted to make sure you were okay. Evina mentioned your brother, um, hasn't been reachable lately."

"She did."

"I don't think Nate told her much. And I haven't told anyone."

Tony didn't want his heart to race, but it was. He tried to remember the man who'd walked out on him in that gardener's shed, not the one who'd lost his mother and his brothers to a long-ago horror story. Sympathy for Chris wouldn't protect him. Neither would inhaling his spicy-sweet aftershave. "You didn't have to check on me."

"I wasn't sure . . ." Chris shoved his hands in his pants pockets. "Your pack is busy. I wanted to make sure someone was paying attention to how you are."

"And you honestly thought that someone should be you?"

"Tony."

"Fuck," Tony said, knowing he'd responded too harshly. He pressed the heels of his hands into tired eye sockets, abruptly as exhausted as if a twelve-story building had flattened him. His arms dropped like they had no muscles left.


"Couldn't we go inside?" Chris asked in a low voice. "You don't have to talk to me. I can just sit with you for a bit. If nothing else, the company will soothe your wolf."

The funny thing was that he was right. His wolf felt like it had been pacing back and forth inside him since Rick disappeared--despite his alpha's attempt to be supportive. His wolf wasn't pacing now. It was focused on Chris's presence--not happy but calmer.

As they spoke, Chris and Tony's gazes had locked onto each other. Chris's eyes weren't glowing, but little lemon lights flickered in their brown-orange depths. He was feeling strong emotions, whatever they might be. The pulse that beat in his neck matched the one in Tony's. Tony wanted to lick it so badly his mouth watered.

"If I let you in," he said. "It won't be just to sit."

Chris's breath caught softly. "That would be okay with me."

Would it be okay with Tony? He'd been trying to put Chris behind him. Did he really want another taste of the tiger's advance and retreat school of seduction? He knew what his body wanted. He was hard enough to go then and there. He had an urge to grab Chris's hand, but they were outside, in plain view of the neighborhood.

He squeezed the key ring he was holding. "All right. Follow me if you're going to."

Chris followed far enough behind him that their entry wouldn't look intimate. Tony's niggle of resentment over that didn't quash his arousal. His palm was sweating as he twisted his doorknob.

"Holy crap," Chris exclaimed as they entered the apartment. "Are you opening a junk shop? How do you walk in here?"

Tony's current work in progress was a set of harp-backed chairs that might one day grace his dining room. If it turned out they didn't suit, he'd sell them on eBuy. He wasn't the only person in Resurrection who liked fixed-up old things. Of course, since there were six chairs, and none were finished, they did fill up the living room.

Maybe a sensible person would have started off by repairing two?

Flushing, Tony shut the door sharply. "Fixing stuff is my hobby. Anyway, what are you worried about? You're a cat. You're supposed to be surefooted."

Chris turned back, his lips rolled together to control a smile. He gave up a moment later and broke into a laugh. "How the hell do you and that neat freak Nate get along?"

"We get along fine," Tony huffed, fists planted on his hips.

Chris's grin softened. The cat was inside Tony's house, his territory, and they both knew they weren't here to fight. Chris stepped to Tony, taking his shoulders in a partly reassuring, partly erotic hold. Tony's anger fell away, his hands moving a bit too naturally to Chris's waist. The man was literally hot, waves of warmth beating out from him. Tony's fingers dug into hard muscle. His dick was so stiff it hurt.

"I want you," he said, the only confession that seemed both honest and unlikely to get him in trouble.