Frost
Frost knocked on the door to the one story house that stood facing the bay. The slight breeze felt good after the heat from earlier in the day. He rolled his neck to ease the stress that had built up.
“When are you going to ask Seth out?”
“Shut up or I’m not going to invite you to dinner anymore.” He narrowed his eyes at his friend. Fucking Roscoe and his meddling. The guy only laughed at his empty threat.
“Roscoe!” Karen Potter’s face lit up at the sight of the agent. Karen was tall and put together nicely for a woman of fifty-five. She didn’t worry about appearances and wore faded blue jeans beneath a flowing floral top. On her feet were brown flip flops, and in her hand was a dish towel.
Roscoe lightly hugged the woman. “Hi, Ms. Potter.”
“How many times do I have to tell you to call me Karen?”
“Um, okay, Karen.” Roscoe eased past her when she reached for Frost.
He smiled and folded Karen into his arms. “Hey, Karen.” He genuinely liked his father’s fiancé, she was the real deal, but more importantly, his father loved her.
“I’m so glad you came today. Your father has been grumbling about the long time between visits.”
“How is he?”
“Today is one of his better days.” She smiled and led the way into the room.
Tennessee Grayson struggled up from the table, smiling. Frost reached for and gently hugged his dad.
“Son,” Ten said, beaming, and then winced as he retook his chair. His dad suffered from severe back pain as a result of an accident over ten years ago. The accident had not only killed his partner, but had taken Ten from a career in law enforcement, a job the man had loved doing for years.
Chasing a suspect, his dad’s patrol car had flipped and rolled doing eighty miles per hour. His father had several metal pins in his neck and lived in constant pain.
“Hey, pops,” he greeted. “Look who’s here.”
“Roscoe!” His dad grinned.
“Hey, Mr. Grayson.” Roscoe smiled in return.
“Dammit, Ro. Call me Ten,” his father said, urging Roscoe to take a seat.
“Ten,” Roscoe agreed, dropping into a chair.
“So, what have you boys been up to?” Ten asked while Karen went about putting dinner together.
“Oh, you know. Trying to get your son to change his wicked ways,” Roscoe teased.
He rolled his eyes. “Please. Like you’re any better,” he snorted.
Roscoe and his dad got into a heated debate about a sports game on television. He stood for a moment, watching the two go at it before he turned and went in search of Karen. He found her in the small wash room away from the kitchen.
“How are you set for money?” He got right to the point.
“We’re good. I have yet to touch what you put into his account last month,” Karen replied, smiling as she folded towels and placed them on top of the dryer. “His social security and Medicare cover everything.”
“Is Maryanne still stopping by?”
“Once each week. She said she’d come in daily, but seriously, with me here, I don’t see why she should.”
Maryanne Simpson was an in-home care nurse, and Frost paid her to come look in on his dad. The woman was a gem. Not only was she his dad’s nurse, but also a longtime family friend. The woman had worked in the ER when his dad had been brought in with a gunshot wound. The pair had stayed in touch over the twenty-five years since.
When Ten had problems after his career-ending injury, Frost had called Maryanne. She hadn’t said a word, other than to tell Frost she would take care of everything. He’d hoped that after his mother bailed, Maryanne and his dad would hook up, but they never did.
“She’s cared about his health for a long time,” he murmured. Much longer than the two years Karen had been around. “I want her to continue to come in at least once a week.”
“I know.” Karen smiled slightly. “She means well,” she agreed.
“Hey, you two,” Roscoe called from the other room. “Is this done? I’ve been stirring it for ten minutes.”
“Oh shoot!” The woman scurried around him and into the kitchen where she took over stirring the pot from Roscoe.
Frost headed over to sit near his dad. They picked up with the game of chess they’d had going for weeks now. He knew his father still missed his mother. Tennessee had repeatedly told him how his mother was the love of his life and any woman afterwards was second best. He would never understand it. His mother was a cheating whore. The woman was like the plague, a tsunami, wreaking havoc on any poor, unsuspecting bastard she could manipulate. He had watched her walk out after the accident that had left his dad crippled. He’d never seen his dad so broken.
For a while there, he’d watched over him, afraid he’d eat a bullet. It wasn’t a bullet that finally brought Tennessee Grayson to his knees, it was the bottom of a bottle. Frost watched Ten drink until the man had ended up in the hospital from alcohol poisoning. At his wit’s end, Frost had called Maryanne. She’d come and read his father the riot act, then took him to an AA meeting where he’d gotten a sponsor the very same day. His dad had sobered up and had remained sober to this day, but the desertion of his wife when he needed her the most had taken a toll.
Karen called them in for dinner and he helped his dad back to the table. He really liked Karen, she was one of a kind. He was thrilled when his dad had proposed to her. Karen was funny and sweet and really good for his dad. It wouldn’t change his mind, though. After what his mother had done and continued to do, he’d seen enough cheating to last a lifetime. Relationships were traps wrapped up in pretty words and lies.
“It’s beautiful out here.” Roscoe patted his full belly.
“Yeah, it is.” He nodded, taking in the sun hovering over the ocean.
They stood looking over the bay. His father’s house was located in Alameda, an old, military island. The military had long since pulled out, but the people had stayed. Frost was third generation Alameda born. He lived in the house just a few blocks away that his grandparents had owned when they were alive. He was grateful Stefano had chosen to put their headquarters in Oakland, not far from there. Being able to see his dad often was a nice change.
“So, what’s Storm’s deal?” Roscoe asked out of the blue.
“Storm?” The question caught him off guard. “Why?” He wouldn’t say much about a fellow operative.
“He just seems angry all the time.”
“That he is.” Frost nodded in agreement. Storm was very aptly named.
There was a long moment of silence penetrated by the sound of seagulls squawking over a discarded piece of bread and the quiet splash of the ocean against the rocky coast.
“What happened to your mom? Did she pass away?” Roscoe asked, turning to look at him.
He choked on his sip of beer and cleared his throat at the abrupt subject change. Although friends for some time, they had never broached the subject.
“No, but she’s dead to me,” he said flatly, hoping to kill any further questions.
Roscoe looked at him and he shifted, turning away from the man’s searching gaze. After a moment of silence, he shrugged.
“She’s on husband number four.” He gave a harsh sigh. “I have so many step and half siblings, I don’t know all their names. She walked out after the accident that ended my dad’s career.”
“Wow, that’s fucked up.”
“It was. He wasn’t even out of the hospital yet. But I truly believe that what goes around comes around,” he murmured, moving his gaze over the shoreline where people were walking their dogs on a small path that ran along the water’s edge.
Karen and his father had joined them, but were sitting at a table near the far end of the deck. They look cute together. He hoped it worked out between them, he really did. But from what he’d seen, people typically came together and promised happily ever after, but it was just a bunch of bullshit. Because everybody eventually cheats. The best thing for him was to keep it casual and avoid forever kind of men. And he’d been doing that for years without incidence. So yeah, he had hook ups, but he didn’t let them evolve into anything else.
Seth wanted to be like him. He didn’t think the man had it in him. Seth seemed like a forever kind of man. Perhaps the experience Seth had with his ex-boyfriend had changed him. And while he would miss the softer side of Seth, he’d take full advantage of the new version. If the hot brunet wanted to have a fling with no strings attached, then he was all in.
Maybe now, Seth understood that relationships were dead-ends leading to nowhere. If that was the case, then they could hook up and have fun. And if he could coax Seth into his bed, all the better. That fucker who had left Seth had dented the guy’s self-esteem and Frost was just the man to fix it.
A few hours later, he pulled up outside of Roscoe’s apartment building, idling the jeep.
“So, you never answered me. When are you going to ask Seth out?” Roscoe pressed.
“If Seth wants to have fun and get laid, then I can certainly accommodate him,” he answered after a moment.
Roscoe snorted. “Dude, you’re like the grim reaper of relationships.”
He tapped his fingers against the steering wheel. “I just know how that shit turns out.”
“Not all relationships end badly.”
“Maybe not,” he said, looking through the windshield at the deserted street. “But they aren’t my thing.”
“After hearing about your mother, I get it.” Roscoe clamped a hand on his shoulder for a moment. “Have a good night.”
“You too, man.”
Roscoe turned, holding the cab door open. “I’m going to check out that house tomorrow. Maybe we missed something on Miller.”
“Watch your six, Ro.”
“I will.”
Seth
Headquarters was humming with activity. Sure, the stakeout watching Yakov hadn’t produced evidence, but it wasn’t the end of the investigation. For the third time, he combed through the data they’d collected.
Catching Jagger Miller and then having to release him had been all kinds of screwed up. What wasn’t screwed was having a voice on tape shooting someone. If they found the suspect that matched the voice, it might lead to enough evidence to make an arrest.
The atmosphere in the room suddenly changed, and Seth lifted his head. He could feel the sizzle in the air. Glancing over at the door, he watched Asher stalk into the building and prowl toward the kitchen. Asher was finally back! For some reason, much to his disappointment, Asher had stayed away the past few days.
He jumped out of his chair and it went rolling. Reggie’s snicker followed him as he made his way after Asher. Thankfully, Reggie’s taped wrist hadn’t diminished his ability to type. Otherwise, Stefano would have asked him to take over the guy’s duties.
Coming to an abrupt stop in the breakroom door, he looked his fill. Asher stood with his back to him, pouring a cup of coffee. Oh man, the guy was so sexy. All hard muscle and attitude, and he wanted to latch onto Asher and climb him like a tree. He wanted to sink his hands into those firm cheeks. His mouth went dry when the man’s package was suddenly presented as Asher turned.
“Seth?”
“Hmmm?” He absently lifted his eyes from Asher’s crotch. “Oh!” His face burned. “Hi.”
Asher narrowed his gaze, slammed the cup to the counter, and prowled toward him.
Seth backed away, not out of fear, no, but because he wanted the wall for support. His hands latched onto Asher’s wide shoulders as the man settled between his spread thighs, his legs purposefully parted to allow the bigger man room.
Seth groaned. Lifting his hands, he fisted them into Asher’s dark hair. When Asher’s head dropped, he was ready for him.
Finally! He opened his mouth to return the hard kiss. His nails ran over Asher’s unshaven jaw. He loved the scruffy look the dark and dangerous agent wore.
Asher lifted his head from the hot-yet-all-too-brief kiss. “I want you,” Asher said gruffly.
“Yes, come to my place tonight,” he breathed.
“You don’t have a place.”
“Oh!” He sucked at this. “I can get a hotel.”
“Oh, um- hi,” a voice interrupted Seth’s haze.
He jerked back and shot a quick look at Reggie. The techie strikes again. Seriously, the guy should win some type of an award for showing up at the wrong time. Behind Reggie stood Allison, and she glared daggers at Asher. Asher stepped back and smirked. He lifted his coffee from the counter and before Seth could protest, he was gone.
“Thanks,” he pouted at them.
“What? For cock blocking you?” Allison snarked.
Reggie sputtered.
“Yes, as a matter of fact.” Seth rolled his eyes and turned to pull down ingredients for making a new pot of coffee.
“That dirt bag sniffing around?” she jeered.
“He’s not a dirt bag,” he argued. Asher was just misunderstood. The man was all confidence on the outside, but Seth sensed a gentleness beneath the surface. Or maybe it was only with him, because for the life of him, he couldn’t ever remember Asher being gentle. Ever.
Allison was just pissed at Asher because he’d had a fling with one of her friends and the guy was heartbroken when Asher hadn’t called. He’d heard all about it a hundred times already.
“Don’t fall for his line.” Allison slammed her palm on the counter, making Reggie jump. “Frost led one of my friends on.”
Oh boy, here we go again. He exhaled.
“Um… I’m out,” Reggie said, and beat a hasty retreat.
“I’m sorry about your friend.” Seth held onto his patience. “But Asher doesn’t have a line.”
“Yes he does, and he uses it on every person he comes into contact with. Well, every hot guy.” Allison hitched a hip against the counter.
“Maybe he’s different,” he mumbled.
“What? Different how?”
“Different with me.” He ducked his head and put the filter in the coffee pot and carefully measured out the grounds.
Allison sighed briefly. “Just be careful. He’s not one to be trusted.”
“What do you mean?” He gave her a shocked look. Asher was highly respected in their unit.
“I mean with your heart.” Allison rolled her eyes. “Of course, I trust him with our lives.”
“Oh! My heart.” He smiled with relief. “Yeah, I will.”
Asher was considered a catch because nobody could catch him. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to catch Asher, but the guy was clearly interested. That much he did know. Did Asher feel the same connection or was this all just a game to him? Still smarting from Dennis’s desertion, Seth knew he shouldn’t even be looking at another man. But if he were truly being honest with himself, he had looked at Asher long before Dennis had come and gone.
They’d been dancing around their attraction for years. At least, he had. Memories surfaced of the first time he’d ever seen Asher. He had been eighteen and timid as hell at the time. His uncle, trying to figure out what to do with him, had delivered him to Stefano’s office. Stefano, as a favor to Rossi, had hired him. Around that time, Seth had been going over reports in Stefano’s office. A man called Frost arrived unkempt, unshaven, with eyes hard and wild from being in the field for so long. It had taken his shaking fingers only seconds on the keyboard to find out the guy’s real name, Asher Grayson.
Asher had left without even glancing in his direction. Because a good deal of the assignments Phoenix handled were out of the country and Asher appeared to like those best, it would be almost another year before he would run into Asher again.
This time, though, the moment their gazes collided, he knew in his heart they’d have their day.
It was in that moment when he had become even more wildly aware of Asher. For one split second that day, he’d seen the hard edge of Asher’s mouth soften. Even from a distance, the heat between them blistered. But then Asher had disappeared again and Seth had met Dennis at a party. People made bad decisions when lonely and Dennis had been one of his.
He stared at nothing, lost in the past, and then smiled when Allison shoulder checked him.
“I’m not saying people can’t change, just… be careful,” she cautioned.
“I can’t stop thinking about him,” he admitted.
“Him too, apparently. He stares at you all the time.”
“He does not.”
“Then why is he watching the kitchen like a hawk, waiting for you to come out?”
He glanced over and sure enough, there was Asher at the copier. “Because he’s terrified of you and won’t come back in until you’re gone?” he joked, but an unexpected thrill chased down his spine.
Allison rolled her eyes. “Smart ass.”
“Hey! That fight you two had wasn’t pretty.” He poured a cup of coffee and lifted it to his nose. He took a tentative sip. Coffee was nirvana.
“I told you.” Allison pursed her lips.
“Yeah, I know. He was shitty to your friend,” he recited.
“What’s really the problem?” she probed when he avoided her gaze.
“I just don’t know if I’m any good at love.” He avoided looking at her as he picked at the small chip along the rim of his cup.
“What?” She sounded surprised.
“Well, Dennis took off, and you know about my mother.” He ducked his head, adding more creamer to his coffee.
“Yeah, let’s not bring up that bitch,” Allison snarked. “And Dennis is a douchebag.”
Seth gave a short, grateful laugh. “Thanks.”
“He is. I never liked him. He used you and now he’s gone.” Allison hesitated. “Don’t let other people define who you are or who you can love,” she finished.
“Okay,” he responded because that sounded like really good advice. Snagging a tiny wooden stick from the bundle on the counter, he used it to stir his coffee.
“What do you see in him anyway?”
“Okay, here we go.” He sniffed and tossed her a look. “What happened to love?”
Allison huffed and turned so her back was resting against the counter. “Yeah, but Frost? Pulllease.”
“It’s Asher, actually,” he corrected.
“Whatever.”
“I like him.”
“Why now, though? You’ve known each other for years,” she pointed out.
He took another swallow of his coffee, trying to come up with a good enough answer. “I don’t know, but there’s definitely a connection between us.” He glanced at the door. “It’s like when a person comes along, you just know they are going to change your life.”
“Well, hopefully it’s for the better,” Allison said quietly.
“Me too,” he murmured. Asher enthralled him. Intrigued him. Set his blood boiling and his heart racing.
For the first time since Dennis had walked out, he was looking forward to the day.