Chapter Nine

 

Solomon wasn’t sure how he ended up at the family bar with no family member in sight, but after the last few days he needed a drink, and he’d rather not spend his evening drinking alone. There was sad, and then there was pathetic.

Hugo had canceled their plans. Again.

He’d been apologetic. Kind. But after the fourth night in a row, it was starting to look like a pattern to Solomon. Like Hugo was pulling away from him, and for the life of him he didn’t know why.

You’ve been too needy.

Had he? Hugo seemed to like the attention. The nightly phone calls, the private dinners, all the lost time they’d been making up for. He’d never given any sign that it was too much.

He glanced at the phone he’d set on the bar. Nothing. No suggestive texts. No missed messages. No sexy dimple selfie to add to his growing collection. No clue of any kind. Just absence.

We’ll see how it goes. No pressure. No promises.

Solomon had a problem with that. He wanted the promises, damn it, and he had from day one. He didn’t want to wing it or go with the fucking flow. He wanted family schedule juggling and rushed breakfasts and the whole damn ball of wax.

Hell, maybe he had been moving too fast for Hugo. But it wasn’t as if anyone had drawn him a relationship diagram. He was flying blind here, with only his family’s recent history of whirlwind romances to judge a relationship on.

But it felt right. He’d never experienced anything like it. It was more than sex. It was waking up every day knowing it meant something. Going to sleep with a smile. Something inside him had opened up and let him believe for the first time that he could have this. That he could share his life. Love and be loved.

He’d been so sure of where they were headed that he’d laid out his requirements to the beleaguered mayor and several city officials after agreeing to the meeting last week.

“Before you offer me anything, you need to know that I’m gay and currently involved in a serious relationship with a man who also used to work in my precinct. He’s a nurse now, so there’s no conflict of interest, but considering the publicity my family name has generated in the past, and the interest reporters are paying to your current situation, you can guarantee it will come up if we decide to go in that direction.”

A few of the officials were thrown by Solomon’s admission. In part, he knew, because he’d never allowed anyone to bring his personal life into any professional conversation. It was one of his unbreakable rules the last time he’d worked for the city, and he’d begun the meeting by tearing that wall right down.

The mayor hadn’t flinched. In fact, it seemed he was having a difficult time keeping the smile off his face.

“If you were trying to dissuade us, Finn, you haven’t seen our latest polling data. The amount of pushback the community is giving us since Miller’s been in place, and for that matter, the recent recall of that bigoted AG that was trying to fight our own state legislation on LGBT issues tells me everything I need to know about where this city’s heart is.”

“I’m not going to be a poster boy for your political ads, Jim. I still consider my private life my own.”

“I never doubted it for a minute, Solomon. But you’re right, it will come out and you will have detractors. Still, I can offer you the full support of this office and your resume will do the rest. I think we’re all in agreement that we need to do whatever it takes to stop this power hungry little tyrant from causing anymore chaos.”

That’s when he’d been given the file on the ongoing internal investigation of Chief Miller’s activities. The more he read, the more his head ached.

Not only was he dismantling every program Solomon had put in place over the years, but he had a history of verbal abuse, including specific complaints about racial and sexually degrading slurs going back to the beginning of his career. He also had a habit of going his own way and grandstanding for shock value and press attention.

By the time he’d gone through the information, he might have lost his temper, asking what the hell the mayor had been thinking. To his credit, he took it well, patiently answering all of Solomon’s questions with as much honesty as he could.

When he finally wound down, he was given four files and a choice.

“We are fixing this problem, Solomon, one way or another, and we need your help. Those are potential successors. I’m asking for your expertise and allowing you to request the help of your brother’s fiancé, to seek out any missing or less than factual pieces of information. Your recommendation will carry invaluable weight with us and our constituents. Be aware, we unanimously believe that you’re the right man for the job. Our first and best option is your return to that position for which you are the most qualified. We can give you two weeks, but we’d prefer your answer sooner rather than later. I’m sure you understand our need to resolve this swiftly and efficiently.”

He understood. He’d brought the files home, contacted Brady and Ken and then left a message for Hugo, wanting his input before he made any final decisions. But Hugo hadn’t had time for long talks about the future that night.

A week later, and Solomon was still waiting.

“So I get this call about you from Fiona.” Brady’s voice startled him, and he turned his head in time to see his brother slide his large body onto a stool.

Ken Tanaka leaned into him, smiling over at Solomon. “Which was fate, as far as I’m concerned, since I wanted to talk to you about what I’ve learned about Miller and the four potentials. Have you talked to the mayor today?”

Unlike Hugo, the mayor called every day. Every. Single. Day. “That man is a pit bull.”

“Cuddly and loveable? That’s why I voted for him.” Fiona said as she set down drinks in front of the men she was obviously expecting. “Or, oh, you mean stubborn.”

Solomon stared at her until her smile started to waver. “I think someone needs a drink on the other side of the bar.”

Brady frowned. “That was rude, Younger. Fiona’s practically family.”

“I know it. I’m just not in the mood tonight.” For anything.

“Then let’s get the business end over with before Rory and his boy band shows up to distract you.”

“Rory’s coming? Who called him?”

Brady snorted. “Doesn’t take the Scooby gang to figure it out. Fiona’s phone is connected to Wyatt’s gossip bone.”

Ken smirked. “I thought it was connected to his dick bone.”

“Dicks tell no tales.”

Brady started laughing. “I say we make that t-shirt and give it to Trick for Christmas. Detective. Dick. Right?”

Solomon shook his head. “I say this family stops with the damn t-shirts already. It’s getting old.”

He set down his beer and turned on his stool, staring steadily at the wealthy hacker his brother loved. “Tell me.”

Ken nodded, instantly all business. “No skeletons found for our alternates. At least, not the chasing secretaries or secretly wearing diapers in the bedroom kind of skeletons. And any one of them would be a better option than the motherfucker currently stinking up your office in my opinion.”

He restrained himself from reminding him it wasn’t his office anymore. Not yet. “I hear a But.”

“But there are life decisions, personal donations and interviews that could be twisted and made to look unflattering. And our sources on the inside that aren’t named Finn have given us a head’s up that Miller knows.”

“What does he know?”

“Everything.” Brady’s lips curled into an angry snarl. “Someone told him about the meeting. He knows the names of his potential replacements, is pissed that you’re the one making the recommendations, and he’s about to leak any bit of dirt he can on all four of them to muddy the waters.”

Ken nodded his agreement. “His plan is to make it look like a witch hunt. He likes that phrase, and so does the media. Someone needs to remind him that it was men like him that started those witch hunts as an excuse to go after women who made their tiny little egos nervous.”

If someone told Miller about that meeting, then he’d also know about Solomon’s relationship status. Damn it, he needed Hugo to talk to him, so he could give him a head’s up. “That’s fucking great, but it’s also pushing our timeline. We can’t give him weeks to hold briefings and spread his bullshit. We need to choose and get the mayor announcing that choice ASAP.”

Ken reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small flash drive. “Agreed. But based on their psychological profiles—and don’t ask me how I got access—at least three of them have career ambitions that will make them instantly back down as soon as Miller attacks. Future political ambitions, so, you know—”

“Yeah.” Cowards. He lifted his hair off his hot neck and leaned heavily on the bar. “So which one is most likely to do this voluntarily, come out intact and still be effective and acceptable to the department as well as the community they’re serving?”

Ken set the flash drive on the bar and pushed it in his direction. “Only one, my friend, and he’s not on the list. I think you knew that before you asked.”

“Shit.”

“Shit?” Brady looked at him, confusion stamped on his handsome features. “Look, I know I wasn’t fit for that uniform, neither is James and we all know it. Only you, Younger. You were made for that job. I understood taking time off, but—”

“Don’t, okay?” Solomon pierced him with a look. “I don’t need every member of my family second-guessing my decisions. Not when I’ve stood by all of yours. I’m also a little tired of everyone telling me what I’m supposed to be when I grow up. What if Noah told Zachary he had to be a fireman? That he didn’t have a choice? We’d take our brother out back and show him what we thought about not giving our nephew the chance to decide for himself who and what he wanted to be, right?”

“Of course, man.” Brady placed his hand on Solomon’s shoulder, his expression softer now. Pity? He didn’t need that either.

He needed Hugo, goddammit.

“What’s on the drive, Tanaka?”

“Insurance, but that can wait.” Ken crossed his arms, studying Solomon as if he could read his mind. “What did you do?”

“What are you talking about?”

Rory slid onto the stool on his other side and patted his back with more force than strictly necessary. “Couldn’t help but overhear. A little bird that lives in a phone tree mentioned something about trouble in paradise. As in, Hugo is acting the same way he did when he first left the police force, and you’re growling like a wounded, longhaired bear. So what did you do to mess things up?”

Solomon turned his head slowly, watching as Rory’s eyes flickered in momentary anxiety before forcing himself to rein in his irritation. Rory didn’t deserve his anger, he knew. He was only trying to help.

Fuck you, Elder. For making him wonder, even for a second... 

“Where’s your entourage?” he teased gruffly, forcing himself to relax. “Still trying to figure out that complicated dart board?”

Rory snorted, nudging him with his shoulder. That quickly, his confident, cocky expression was back in place. “Until your thumbs are nimble enough to survive five minutes of Halo without getting your head blown off, smack talk is off the table.”

Brady leaned around Solomon with a smile. “You know he’s too old for games, kid. Aren’t you, Younger?”

“Games? He would never.” Rory agreed, waving at Fiona as she brought him his usual.

Smartasses. Both of them. He had no idea who they’d gotten it from.

“I don’t know what I did to mess things up with Hugo, okay? Everything was great between us. I thought everything was great. We didn’t fight. I didn’t forget to call. He’s… Now he’s not talking to me. He’s too busy to see me, which is bullshit and we both know it, but he won’t tell me what’s really going on.”

“Did you break into his place and refuse to leave until you got what you wanted? I’ve heard that works on some people.” Brady’s words were light but his expression was one of concern.

“How about tricking him into an empty threesome mansion while naked? Did you try that? Don’t be subtle now, Younger. We are not the subtle Finns.”

Ken chuckled. “Are there any subtle Finns? Fiona have you met any?”

The bartender mimicked zipping her lips as she walked away from them. For his sake, Solomon knew. He really needed to apologize to her for being such a dick.

“I haven’t been that subtle, but he’s had us on lockdown. No promises, he said. I’ve made them, but I haven’t asked him for any because I don’t want to screw this up.”

He pushed his hair back and groaned into his hands. “I’m too fucking old not to know how to do this. He wanted to set rules and I said fine, let’s have rules. Then he says forget the rules, let’s see where this goes. Great. I’m here for that too. Now I can feel it slipping away, and I want to fight for it, for him, but what if I’m already pushing too hard and he’s not ready for more?”

“And people say relationships with women are complicated,” Rory muttered, glancing over his shoulder at the two men talking quietly at another table. His men.

“Believe me, they are,” Fiona interrupted, biting her lip and backing away with an apologetic glance. “Sorry.”

“No stay.” Solomon reached out his hand. “We might need some professional help here. Just don’t tell Wyatt or Thoreau.”

Her smile curved in understanding. “I don’t tell them everything. I promise you can trust your bartender. Talk to me. You’re doing that more now, I’ve noticed. It’s good.”

He swore softly. “I’ll talk if you tell me what it means. The way he’s put me off all week, is it a test? Am I supposed to bash in his door and claim him or do I wait to prove I can stick things out? I’d give him what he wanted if I knew what it was. I owe him that.”

“You owe him? Why?”

He could feel everyone staring at him and it made his cheeks flush. “Because I’m the fuck up here. When he was ready for a relationship, I was too busy being Chief Finn, the guy who didn’t acknowledge he had needs. The robot…”

“What?” Ken said. “I think I saw a light bulb explode over your head.”

“I caught that too,” Fiona murmured. “Epiphany Central.”

Was that it? Everything had been fine until he’d called to talk about meeting the mayor and the possibility of taking his old job back. “I have to go.”

“I just got here,” Rory said plaintively. “I had this whole paying it forward Finntervention speech about deserving love ready to go.”

Solomon got to his feet with a laugh, mussing Rory’s hair the way he had when he was little. “I’m sure it would have been epic. But I’ve been around for a few of those recently. I think I have the gist.”

“Ever the damn buzzkill.” But Brady was smiling and looking relieved.

“That’s me.”

Before he got to the door Ken grabbed his arm. “Younger wait.” He slid the flash drive in his jacket pocket. “You’ll need this. Kneecap the son of a bitch before he has a chance to talk to the press.”

“Bloodthirsty, but thanks.”

He might not need it. He might not be going back at all. Everything depended on Hugo.

 

***

 

He was curled up on the couch with Bronte’s latest blanket, eating caramel corn and staring blankly at the television.

Alone.

What the hell was the point of living with or next to most of his siblings if none of them were available to distract him when he really needed it?

Hugo could usually count on Bronte, but even she’d abandoned him, with no hint as to where she was going or why. Austen was on another date and Thoreau, well he was usually busy and he barely slept in his bed as it was, so he couldn’t complain about it now.

But he wanted to.

He was pathetic. Without anyone here to talk him out of it, all he could do was think about Solomon and wonder if he was making the right decision by backing away.

It was hurting them both and he knew it. All the ignored phone calls and excuses were dick moves he’d have judged people for in the past, but he couldn’t make himself stop. It kept hope alive, and he needed that hope right now. He couldn’t cut Solomon out completely. Not yet. Not until he knew.

Maybe he should pick up more overtime. Thoreau had a point. Sleeping was overrated.

He reached for his phone to text Bronte again, when he heard someone knocking on his door. His heart sped up, wondering if it was Solomon.

It wasn’t. Instead, it was the last person he’d ever expected. “Boone?”

The handsome salesman smiled and reached up to grab the doorframe, leaning in a way guaranteed to be considered sexy by the stupid and misinformed gay man.

“You remembered my name.” He scraped his teeth over his lower lip as he gave Hugo’s shorts and threadbare sweater a meaningful onceover. “That’s a good start, Hugo Wayne. I’ll take it.”

He managed to restrain his eyeroll. Robert would now be Nora forever. “What are you doing here? How did you even get our address?”

“I have my ways, and you weren’t taking my calls so I had to get creative.” He was smooth. Practiced.

“Look, I’m not a sale you need to close, Boone. And I don’t appreciate you putting me in this position. There was a reason I didn’t pick up the phone. You should have respected that.”

Boone leaned closer, staring at his lips. “I heard that reason isn’t an issue anymore, so I decided to take a chance that you were ready for something new and improved instead of old and basic.”

Hugo’s lips twitched. He couldn’t help it. “Thank you, Boone. Sincerely. I’d been in a shitty mood and you definitely snapped me out of it with one line.”

“I’m here to serve. Why don’t you let me in and we can enjoy that better mood together?”

The balls on this guy. “Why don’t you—”

“What the fuck is he doing here?”

Hugo froze in the doorway as Solomon strode out of the shadows, fists clenched and anger setting his blue eyes on fire.

Boone winked at Hugo as if they shared a secret. “I’m here to take care of our boy, since some people can’t get the job done. What are you up to? Bake sale for extra cash?”

Hugo ignored him. “Solomon, I was ju—”

“No,” he growled, holding up his finger to cut him off before turning his attention back to Boone. “We deal with this first.”

“For fuck’s sake.” Hugo crossed his arms and met Boone’s disbelieving gaze. “Boone…whatever you’re last name is, I’m not interested. No matter who I am or am not dating, now or at any time in the future, I will still not be interested. You don’t do it for me. At all. Stop calling, stop creeping around my family, and work on those moves before you bother someone else. Now leave.”

He caught Solomon’s satisfied smile from the corner of his eye and scowled.

“Is this a joke? Are you seriously choosing this washed out mother—”

Boone let out a startled shout when Solomon gripped the back of his neck, applying just the right amount of pressure. “Let’s not say something you’ll regret. I believe this man asked you to leave the premises.”

“Get your hands off me.” Boone jerked away from him, his eyes wild. “You want to pity fuck this down on his luck Irish joke? Fine. I have other places I could be. Too bad about your brother though.”

Hugo stepped forward, fighting the urge to knock Boone on his ass himself. “Are you seriously threatening my family because I turned you down for a date? Am I supposed to worry?” He rolled his eyes. “Leave, Boone. Do whatever you think you need to do.”

Boone opened his mouth but Solomon took a step into his space, looking down at him with grim anticipation until the man swore and turned on his heel, stalking towards the shiny sports car Hugo would have been able to pick out of a line up.

Solomon brushed by him and into his place without asking permission, anger rolling off him in waves of heat that singed Hugo’s skin. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

He laughed and turned toward him with a hint of pain in his eyes. Pain and jealousy. “I should have come earlier and beat the line.” He blew out a harsh breath. “Why didn’t you tell me he was calling you?”

Hugo closed the door and strode back to the living room, rubbing the chill from his arms. “I never took his calls because he wasn’t important.”

As soon as Solomon stilled, his body rippling with tension, he knew he’d made a mistake. “Like me, Hugo? You don’t take my calls anymore, either. What’s wrong? Tired of your pity fuck?”

He was about to wrap the crocheted blanket over his shoulders but at those words he turned and pushed against Solomon’s chest, knocking him back a step. “I don’t do pity, you ignorant asshole. And I don’t need you dropping by in the middle of the night, acting like a jealous boyfriend! I didn’t give you the right to do that. We didn’t make any promises, remember?”

Without warning, Solomon dragged him closer, his hands sliding down to grip his ass and press their growing erections together. “Consider this my first promise.”

The kiss rocked Hugo back on his heels and changed his outrage to pure arousal in a heartbeat.

He should push him away and he knew it, but his arms were too busy pulling him closer, one hand sliding into his hair and the other into his back pocket, searching for his wallet and what he knew he kept there.

They dropped to their knees together, tongues still mating as Hugo flipped open the leather and pulled out the packet of lube he’d made sure Solomon always kept on hand.

Four days without touching him and Hugo was dying for him. Desperate. He dropped the packet and the wallet on the floor and unbuckled Solomon’s belt with clumsy hands.

“Need you,” Hugo moaned against his lips, pushing his jeans over his ass and gripping the flexing muscles. “God, I need inside you now.”

Solomon kicked off his shoes and jeans before rolling Hugo flat on his back, straddling his thighs. He reached for the lube, staring down at him with blue eyes so hungry they made him moan.

Neither of them said a word as Solomon prepared himself, the wet sounds and his rough breaths making Hugo’s cock drip with precum, every part of him focused on what his lover would do next.

When he took Hugo in hand they both held their breath, feeling the head of his erection pressing firmly against Solomon’s clenching ass. Still looking into his eyes, he let gravity fill him, their muted groans mingling as Solomon took him completely inside.

Fuck. “Younger. Jesus, I’m in you deep like this. So tight.”

Solomon arched his neck, his blond hair grazing the middle of his back and his thick cock curving against his abs as he started to rock against him, taking Hugo with a singular focus that was as erotic as it was frustrating.

“Look at me. Let me see your eyes.”

Hugo reached up to cup the back of his neck and that gaze followed. The one that burned straight through to his soul, possessing him. “What are you doing to me?”

Solomon leaned close, scraping his teeth across Hugo’s stubble. “Giving you what you want,” he growled. “Let me fuck you, Hugo.”

Yes.

“You like being on top?” he murmured, hand knotting in Solomon’s hair, desperate for control. “Show me, Younger. Ride my cock, baby. Use me. Fuck yourself hard.”

Solomon groaned, shaking his head in denial even while his body moved to obey. He gripped Hugo’s shoulders, his thighs tensing as he started fucking himself on Hugo’s thick shaft.

Hugo couldn’t stop watching him reach for it. Couldn’t stop touching him. His thighs, his back, his ass. He spread Solomon’s cheeks and started to guide his hips, changing the rhythm.

Faster. Harder. So fucking good.

Solomon took him, rode him until he was flushed and glistening with sweat, eyes always on him.

It was the most intimate sex Hugo had ever had. He tugged Solomon down and rubbed their lips together, not deepening the kiss, just connecting. Just sharing each breath and needy moan.

Hugo slid his hand between their bodies and took his erection in hand.

“Oh fuck,” Solomon groaned. “Oh fuck, not yet.”

But he was too close and he wanted them to come together. Needed it. He bucked his hips off the ground, pressing deep. “Take it,” he urged. “I want you to take what you need.”

Each deep stroke had them gasping, begging for something that was just out of reach. One more. One more…

Don’t stop, baby. Never stop.

Solomon’s cock jerked in his hand and he was coming, Hugo one hard thrust behind him. They were so connected he could feel every clench and flex of muscle, every struggling breath of his lover, even as he shuddered into his own release.

He saw Solomon’s hard features soften in ecstasy. He wanted to make that happen again. Every day.

Shit.

Solomon burrowed into him, kissing his neck, his jaw. “Missed you. Missed you so much,” he murmured raggedly.

When he lifted himself off Hugo’s body and lay down on the floor beside him, Hugo ached. He already missed the weight of him. The warm tight haven his cock belonged in.

No promises. No promises.

Solomon was kissing his shoulder, tracing a pattern down his arm. “You okay, Hugo?”

“The judges haven’t made a ruling yet,” he said absently, staring at the ceiling as he fought down his panic.

No promises.

“Speaking of decisions, I realized something tonight.”

“Oh yeah?”

He felt Solomon’s nod against his skin. “You’re worried about me changing if I take the job again, aren’t you? That I’ll start pretending again.” He paused, but Hugo didn’t respond. “I wouldn’t, not about you, not ever again. But I understand why it’s a deal breaker. That’s why I’ve decided to turn them down.”

Hugo felt the shock of that all the way to his toes. He hadn’t been expecting it, and it only made the panic worse. “You’re doing what?”

No promises.

“Turning down the job. I’ll recommend someone and that’ll be the end of it. We can go back to—”

“Jesus Christ, Younger, what the hell am I supposed to do with that?”

Hugo rolled to his feet, snagging his shorts and struggling into them, too upset to be graceful. “Am I supposed to be happy now? Happy that you’re willing to throw everything away because I was worried I wouldn’t get enough attention?”

He could feel Solomon’s confusion. “Wasn’t that what you wanted?”

“Yes! No!” He paced away from him, then back again, his heart thrumming in his ears.

What was wrong with him? Solomon was giving him what he wanted. Again. It was selfish of him to want it, but he had, and the man didn’t even fight about it.

Solomon always gives you what you want.

Hugo crossed his arms, barely holding himself together. “Do you like the color you painted your kitchen, Younger?”

“What? Of course I do, why are you asking me that?”

“What about the couch? If I hadn’t mentioned the one that reclined, would you have gotten something just like it?”

Solomon stood slowly, watching him the same way he imagined he would a cornered, wounded animal. “Hugo, what’s this about?”

“The things you’re doing, the decisions you’re making aren’t about you, they’re all about me. What you think I want from you. What would make me happy.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Before me it was your family. Your father.” He saw him flinch but he couldn’t stop. “You’re the big brother, the Chief, the one everyone relies on and right now I’m trying like hell to remember you making a decision to go after something you wanted. Something that wasn’t about helping someone else, and I can’t do it.”

“Hugo—”

He shook his head, stepping back toward the door. “I can’t be responsible for this decision, Solomon. It’s your career. What if I chose wrong and you spent the rest of your life blaming me? When I left that station, I did it for me. Because it was what was best for me. You need to know what you want, Solomon. Some decisions you have to make for yourself.”

Solomon got dressed in silence, looking down at his hands. When he walked to the door, all Hugo wanted to do was drag him back and apologize for being crazy. One minute they were making love and the next, they were over?

Oh God, was it over?

He opened the door and looked back over his shoulder, his eyes bright with anger and frustration. “You were my selfish decision. My only one. I wanted you for myself. And if you don’t know that by now, if you can’t see how I feel…”

He left his words hanging in the air as the door closed behind him. Hugo climbed onto the couch, wrapping himself in his sister’s blanket and calling himself a fool again.

The first time he’d walked away because he wasn’t getting enough from him. This time he’d gotten everything he’d wanted and he still wasn’t able to trust it.

Maybe Solomon wasn’t the only problem.