Gunnar was in way too deep.

Worse, he could barely find time to enjoy it. He and Liam talked every night on the phone, not only sexual, though Gunnar's desire to see the omega naked only grew stronger as the days passed. He almost cheered when Olivia begged him to sleep over at her new friend Erica's house the following Saturday. "Erica's mom says it's fine, and Simon can come too if he's not contagious. Her mom's going to be there the whole night, and we’re going to make a pancake breakfast in the morning. Can I go? Please?"

"Let me talk to Erica’s mother."

With only four days before their Saturday date, Gunnar had to call in a favor with Commander Kelley, whose brother owned the most exclusive seafood restaurant in liberty. Liam ate fish, eggs, and mostly vegetarian unless he was sure the chicken or turkey was free range. Normally, the restaurant was booked out for months, especially on a Saturday, but it paid to have friends. Gunnar really wanted to show Liam a good time. Liam was always giving of himself to others, and Gunnar wanted to spoil the doctor. Just a little. And if it set the right mood, all the better.

Booking the restaurant was about the only thing that went right that week. Gunnar's search for similar cases had turned up many hits, but nothing solid. Unfortunately, prostitution was a high-risk profession, and too many died. Beatings, strangling, and overdoses were too common.

Dobbs’ wife also remained missing. Gunnar wished the passage of time was enough for him to convince himself that maybe she was still alive. But he knew that would be a lie. And Gunnar wasn't very good at lying.

He dropped Olivia at Erica’s with her overnight bag and cell phone. "If you have any problems, you call me."

"I know, Dad."

"It's not your first sleepover, but it is your first time overnight with Erica and her family. You’re going to have a wonderful time."

Olivia gave Gunnar a tight hug before taking her overnight backpack. "I love you, Dad."

"You too, bugbear."

"I'm eight! Stop calling me bugbear!"

"Of course."

Gunnar walked Olivia to the door and watched her squeal with delight when she saw Simon and two other girls already sitting on the living room floor playing with two kittens. Gunnar gave Erica's mother his cell phone number again, and after a bit more small talk, he left.

Anticipation for the evening rose as Gunnar got dressed: navy slacks, matching blazer, vest, and a wine red button-down shirt he'd picked up on a whim but never had a chance to wear. He put on the tie and, staring at himself in the mirror, considered taking the entire thing off and starting over. The suit fit. If anything, he'd bulked up a little since he bought it, and the lines emphasized the broadness of his shoulders. He hadn't dressed sharply since his last anniversary, and then, he'd known what Adam liked.

It was almost a decade since Gunnar last dated. Would he be too formal? Too old-fashioned? He glanced at his watch, a large, silver piece he only wore on special occasions.

No time to change. Liam had met him first thing in the morning, in wrinkled workout clothes and carrying his sickly pet. It would be fine.

Gunnar pulled up in front of Liam's apartment with minutes to spare. It was a warm, clear spring evening, and as the fires of sunset burned orange over the mountain peaks, Gunnar couldn't take his eyes off Liam.

Liam wore a charcoal black suit with a beige vest and matching tie that complemented his honey-brown hair, with highlights of blond. He looked up, blue eyes sparkling, behind thick-rimmed glasses as his lips spread into his full-lipped, gorgeous smile. Gunnar wanted to unbutton Liam’s suit jacket and vest and push him against the wall while kissing him, hard, the way Liam liked it.

Why had Gunnar insisted on dinner, when the desert was so close and so delectable?

No. Liam deserved more than a quick fuck and order-in Chinese food. Gunnar put on his blinkers and stepped out of the car. Knowing how badly Liam had responded to the last set of flowers, Gunnar had brought what he hoped was a gift that would make Liam laugh. He held it behind his back as he walked to the omega. "You look amazing, Liam."

"It's my only suit. I wore it to my sister's wedding."

"It's perfect. I got you something."

Liam tensed. "You didn't have to. I didn't bring anything."

"You brought the best thing."

"What?"

"If it wasn't for your brilliant thought of introducing Erica to Olivia, my daughter would be home tonight. And then we were would we be?"

"I think it's a present for both of us."

Gunnar pulled the present from behind his back. Through the red paper that he’d painstakingly wrapped around it, the outline of a dog bone was clear.

"Is that – – that's for Lucky, isn't it?"

"What can I say, maybe I just want to get lucky?"

Liam groaned, but then he laughed. "That sounds like a gift for both of us, too. I guess I should take this inside. You can come with…"

"We'll never make it to dinner. Come on, you can just put in the car. We'll get lucky later."

"Your puns give me paws."

Now it was Gunnar's turn to groan. "I think you might be barking up the wrong tree with that one."

"Weak."

Gunnar glanced at his watch. "We should go."

"Where are we going? You just said you had reservations, but didn't tell me where."

"No, I didn't. It's a surprise."

"How's Puff doing?"

"Running around like a crazy kitten. He won't leave Olivia's feet alone, so I had to go to YouTube and watch a video on how to trim his nails."

"I could have shown you."

"I wanted to take you to dinner before I asked for house calls."

A giddy sense of excitement bubbled inside of Gunnar as they got closer to the restaurant. It stood a bit above the city, where the river flowed down from the mountains.

Liberty City was no Hollywood or San Francisco, but they got their own share of famous people. Mostly wealthy CEOs and dot com-ers, as well as a smattering of movie stars, the ones who enjoyed the comfort of luxury while getting a bit off the beaten path. Or at least that's what the tourist guides said. And anyone who was anyone, and a lot of people who weren't like Gunnar himself, enjoyed a meal by candlelight at Château Lockhart.

The name was a little bit of a joke which had grown into itself. The Château Lockhart had started as a tiny inn serving gold prospectors. The innkeeper’s oldest son, an omega, and a young single prospector had fallen in love. Of course, the omega’s dad had forbid it, wanting his son to marry into a stable, well-to-do family back east. The pair had run off with each other and had wild adventures that grew wilder with each retelling.

It wouldn’t have come to anything if the alpha hadn’t struck it big, and the omega’s father hadn’t succumbed to cholera and been on his death bed when his son returned withhis own son strapped to his back, and a mountain cure that somehow saved the old man’s life.

Some claimed the omega was a magician who negotiated with the natives, who had their own talent for skin walking, to ensure the city's prosperity and wealth. It seemed far-fetched, but Liberty had managed to avoid the worst of fires, floods, mudslides and earthquakes that affected other parts of the West Coast.

In any other city, the Lockhart Château would be a kitschy tourist trap, but somehow, through the years, the once tiny inn had remade itself into a palace, and become the place for anyone who was anyone to have an unforgettable experience.

Gunnar had brought Adam here, and Adam had loved it. Gunnar wanted to see the same light in Liam’s eyes when he saw the place and bask in the man’s sublime pleasure when he took the first bite of his perfectly prepared meal.

Liam's breath caught as he saw the entrance archway to the three-story sweeping structure of gold-flecked stone and glass.

Gunnar drove his car into the queue for the valet. There were six cars in front of them.

The true magic of Château Lockhart was how the restaurant was constantly re-creating itself without losing his essential character. Thirty years ago, the archway had been plated with neon and chrome. Now, it was mostly glass. In the twilight, warm incandescent lobes above combined with flickering candlelight gave it a warm, elegant glow.

"This is – – how did you – –?" Liam sputtered.

"Friend of a friend." Gunnar grinned. Good. He wanted to get this right.

"I – –."

"I remember you mentioned seeing it from your car your first week here."

"This is too much." Liam looked nervous. "You said famous people come here?"

"Sometimes. Like maybe once a year."

Liam’s shoulders relaxed. "That’s it. Okay. Ummm...good."

"Not looking for anyone’s autograph?” The line of cars moved forward.

“No. I mean, I guess if I met Samuel L. Jackson... Really, this must be costing you a fortune.”

“Friend of a friend, like I said. You've had such a hard time, and you've done so much already for Olivia and me, without even asking for anything. Now let me show you a good time, okay?"

Liam looked across the car to Gunnar with shining eyes. He rubbed his palms on his pants. "This is amazing." He ran his tongue over his lips.

Gunnar’s cock twitched at the sight. He wanted to kiss Liam, smell the omega's aftershave and taste the hint of mint on his breath.

Gunnar took Liam's hand. It was warm, with skin marked by the occasional fine white line. Animal scratches, most likely. Liam had the collar of his shirt buttoned up to the top, and Gunnar realized he wore his shirts the same way at the hospital too.

Two cars left before they reached the entrance.

Gunnar wanted to undo the buttons and bury his face in Liam's soft, light brown chest hair. He'd imagined it so many times this week, what he would do when he got Liam within arm’s length, and now he was hesitating. Maybe because he didn't know how to read this omega’s signs. Liam seemed nervous. But maybe Gunnar was just projecting. Adam had loved being pampered, wined and dined, and generally shown off. And after so long together, Gunnar had known without thinking about it what his husband liked and the little signs that show when he wanted more. Had things felt so fragile in the beginning? If so, Gunnar had probably been too young and too stupid to notice.

"I want tonight to be something special. With the way my life goes, I can't always do these things, and…" Good grief, Gunnar. This was a first date, and he sounded like he was asking the omega to marry him. "I just want us to have a good time," he said quickly.

"Me too.”

One more car.

Liam squeezed Gunnar's hand and tilted his chin up.

Fuck it, they had time for one kiss.

Gunnar went for it. Liam parted his lips almost immediately, and they were going tongue to tongue. Each movement sent tingles of pleasure through Gunnar's body, and he ran his free hand through Liam's hair. It was a little long, and Gunnar loved that.

Liam's omega scent grew stronger as they kissed, and Gunnar was simultaneously grateful to and annoyed that the minivan's design made it difficult for them to get closer without one or the other getting out of his seat.

Behind them, a car beeped.

Gunnar pulled away.

A middle-aged man in a charcoal tuxedo and white gloves stood in the empty space where the last car had been taken away to be parked. The man had his gaze firmly forward. His windows weren’t even tinted, which meant they’d definitely put on a show for the valet. Gunnar’s face flushed, but he couldn’t bring himself to feel bad about it.

Liam ran his hand through his hair. "You think he saw it?"

"I'm going to tip him well enough to forget."

Liam smiled. Behind his glasses, his blue eyes sparkled. Gunnar wanted to see what those eyes looked like without the protective pane of plastic. He wanted to see the blue swallowed by the black of lust. He was grateful for his suit jacket, and more importantly, the loose cut of his pants.

They pulled up, and the valet opened Gunnar’s door. Another man in white gloves approached Liam's car door and pulled it open. Together, they walked down a narrow strip of red carpeting into the restaurant.

It was Saturday night, and almost every table was full, though the way the space was designed, only a low murmur of conversation, punctuated by the clink of silver on fine China touched their ears.

The maître d' looked up as they approached. "Your reservation, sirs?"

Gunnar gave his information, and the older man nodded. "This way."

Though Gunnar had planned this, he still couldn't help gawking a little. Liam walked stiffly, his eyes wide and lips slightly parted as they passed beneath two crystal chandeliers, somehow suspended from narrow gold strips between the wide panes of glass above.

Adam had raved about the architecture of the place on their first dinner here. Liam just looked shell-shocked, and Gunnar felt suddenly uncomfortable. It was beautiful here, but the date was also where you got a chance to know each other. What did the Château Lockhart say about Gunnar?

That he was a pretentious show-off? Trying too hard? Working to fit his current date into the mold of his dead husband?

After the chairs were pulled out for each of them, they sat down.

"I'm sorry," Gunnar said.

Liam furrowed his brow. His eyes fluttered. "For what?"

"I really wanted to make a good impression, but I think I might have overdone it."

"No. I mean, you did overdo it a little, but I don't mind. I'm just more of a farm boy, you know. But it's good to have new experiences. Do you come here a lot?"

Gunnar shook his head. "Only on special occasions. With the right person."

"You and Adam?"

"I don't want to talk about Adam." At least he and Liam were at a different table. And they'd changed the layout and place settings. The last time he had been here was over a year and a half ago, in February, and the tablecloth and draperies had been in shades of wine red and gold. Now, for spring, it was all blues. Blue like Liam's eyes.

There were complicated structural reasons why the sound between tables didn't carry over, putting Gunnar and Liam in almost their own level. Liam took the napkin and, pulling it from the delicate gold napkin ring, unrolled it and put it in his lap.

"Did you want to take a look at the appetizers? They have really good food here."

"Is it in English? I mean, I have working Latin, but it's not food focused."

Gunnar laughed. "Château is really more of a joke than anything. You know the legend, right?"

"There's a statue near City Hall, along the Golden River."

Another of Liberty's affectations, a winding path of yellow bricks that lit up every night so from a distance it looks like a winding yellow River. Originally, there had been flecks of gold in the bricks, but it cost the city too much to have cops watching them at all hours of the day and night to keep opportunists from chipping away their own souvenirs.

"I always thought it was nice. A story about how love conquers all. Well, love, luck, and acquiring massive amounts of gold."

Liam burst out laughing. Finally, at that moment, he seemed to relax. For appetizers, they ordered mussels and a charred vegetable dish drizzled with a house dressing which made Liam close his eyes and sigh in a way that was adorably fuckable.

Halfway through the main course, Liam's gaze flitted to something behind Gunnar, and he then lowered his head and shifted in his chair, lifting his fingers to his temple like a man trying to hide his face.

Gunnar tensed. "What's wrong?" he whispered.

"People are recording. Not us. I think the couple three tables away from us, behind you, are celebrities of some kind."

Gunnar turned to look. He vaguely recognized the woman, a pop singer Olivia had raved about a couple of weeks ago. Gunnar briefly debated asking for an autograph, but even if it wouldn't have been rude, Liam looked so uncomfortable, Gunnar wouldn't dream of abandoning him.

"I just don't want my face online."

"With those two here, no one's going to pay any attention to us."

Liam nodded, his face tight with anxiety.

"What did your ex do to you?"

"I don't want to talk about it. I'm fine." Still keeping his fingers on his temple, he sawed at his fish with the side of his fork.

"If he comes near you, I'll break him into pieces."

"I know you're trying to help."

"Did you want to go?"

"You want a dessert."

"I wanted to lick it off of your cock."

Liam flushed, and he glanced up with a weak smile. "I don't want to spoil your good time."

"I did this to have a good time with you. If you're not having a good time, neither am I." Gunnar looked around for the server, and catching his eye, lifted up a hand to call him over. "Can we take the rest of this to go?"

"Of course, sir. Is everything okay with your meal?"

"Yes. It's wonderful. My companion is just feeling a little under the weather."

"It's really all been wonderful. Amazing," Liam said.

"I understand," the server said. Within minutes, the food was packed up and, boxes in hand, they were walking together to the door. Gunnar felt in his pocket for the ticket for the valet before stepping outside. To his surprise and dismay, a smattering of people with cameras stood across the street, just off of the restaurant property. A camera flashed.

Liam grew pale and swallowed.

"Don't worry, they'll toss it when they see we're nobody important," Gunnar said, reassuring his date.

Liam gave a short nod.

A balding man in a tweed jacket carrying a small notepad walked toward Gunnar. "Detective Justice?"

Charles "Charlie" McCormick. Fuck. He was little better than a tabloid reporter, but he glommed on to the more spectacular local crime circuit as well. What the hell did he want with Gunnar now?

There was no point in lying. Charlie knew him. "What is it, Charlie? Aren't you here for the pop starlet?" Gunnar stepped forward, trying to shield Liam from the reporter's sharp gaze.

Charlie smiled, gleaming white teeth like a shark without the justification. "Gunnar." He nodded. "I was wondering if you had any comment about the discovery of Melanie Dobbs’ body this evening?"

"They found her." Gunnar swallowed down a lump of guilt and anger. "When?"

Someone should have called. The fuck with him being blindsided like this.

But he had his phone on silent.

"Her body was found in a quarry near the state border."

Fuck.

Across the street, another camera flashed.

"I assume her husband will be the primary suspect in her murder. Is the department concerned your negligence might have given a violent man the opportunity to kill again?"

Gunnar saw red. His fists clenched, and for a moment he imagined Charlie's bones crunching beneath the assault of his fists. It would do the world a service. Melanie Dobbs was dead? He'd known it in his guts, but it still hurt.

"Do you believe Mr. Dobbs is responsible for his wife's death?"

Gunnar didn't believe it. He knew it. But he knew better than to give Charlie that kind of ammunition. "No comment."

"Mrs. Dobbs was found severely beaten. The department is being extremely tight-lipped about the specifics."

Gunnar could read between the lines. Beaten and left outside for days to rot. His skin went cold. Had she been alive when he left her? Had she laid there in agony, choking on her own blood and praying for a rescue that never came?

Gunnar had failed her, the same way he had failed Adam.

Inside, the anger still burned, but now it burned cold. "No comment," he repeated.

"Surely you must have some opinion."

To Gunnar's shock, Liam put a hand on his upper arm and stepped forward, so they were side-by-side. He said, "Considering Gunnar just learned about this poor woman's death right now, I don't think he has any idea what the department thinks about any of this."

"And your name, sir?" Charlie asked. His light brown eyes gleamed as his gaze focused on Liam.

"None of your damn business. This is private property, and if you continue harassing us, I will go inside and have somebody escort you off the premises."

"I see. My apologies," Charlie said insincerely. "I didn't realize you were on a date. It's been over a year since your husband passed on, hasn't it detective?"

Before Gunnar could find the breath to speak, Liam said, "That's also not your business. Now go."

Charlie grinned. "He's a keeper," he said and took a step back. "Good evening, gentlemen."

As Charlie was leaving, the valet finally drove up with Gunnar's minivan.

Gunnar was caught in a maelstrom of emotions he couldn't dare show: guilt, sadness, anger, and the fierce mingling of shock and pride in Liam at how, in spite of the omega's fears of being discovered, he had stood up so quickly and boldly in Gunnar's defense. Another valet pulled the passenger door open, and Liam stepped inside. Gunnar walked around to the other side of the car. Charlie wasn't going to let this go. And now, Liam had put himself in the middle of it. Hopefully, any photos of them would be from too far away to be of use. Hopefully. Charlie would try and get them anyway.

What a mess.

When they had driven for a few minutes, far enough away to get out of sight of any more reporters, reputable and not, Gunnar said, "I'm so sorry about this."

"It's not your fault. What a dick. I guess you're going to have to go into work now?"

"It's not my case. In fact, the commander warned me off of it when the news came that she was missing. Considering what happened last time, if I'm seen as taking any part, it will only make the DA's job even more difficult."

"That must be hard."

"I did everything right with the evidence. Not that it matters."

"Mistakes happen."

"This wasn't a mistake." Gunnar's hands clenched on the steering wheel. The streets were crowded, and Gunnar found himself getting frustrated with the thick, erratic traffic. Maybe he was just frustrated with everything.

"If it wasn't a mistake, what happened?"

"Nothing I can prove. And I was transferred out when I tried to confront my partner about it. Maybe they would've transferred me anyway, though. I couldn't prove anything."

"You think your partner did it?"

"It doesn't matter. It only matters what you can prove."

"Why?"

"Loyalty. That's the best I could come up with. He didn't owe anyone any money, and if he was being blackmailed, I never found it."

"Loyalty to what?"

"His mentor. The people who gave him a life and a second chance when he got them off of the street. Dobbs' brother gave their program a lot of money. And my last partner still volunteers there."

"That sounds like something someone should have looked into."

"You can't accuse another cop of deliberately tanking a case without ironclad evidence. All I had were suspicions, and they were after-the-fact. I'm sorry, this wasn't how I wanted our date to go."

"That reporter was horrible. I can't believe he blindsided you like that."

"You're amazing, the way you stood up to him."

Liam shrugged. "It just pissed me off. He wanted you to snap, so he'd have something to hold over you. I hate people like that. It's a special kind of cruelty."

"You saved me."

"I think you could've taken him."

"If I'd started hitting him, I wouldn't have stopped. And then the story would be about an unhinged, alpha cop going berserk on a helpless civilian. Thank you, again. I feel like I'm always thanking you."

"So do you have to go to the police station now?"

Gunnar shook his head. "I'll have to give the commander a heads up about Charlie, but I wasn't exaggerating when I said they didn't want me anywhere near this case. I was really hoping tonight would go differently."

"It's not over yet. I have ice cream in my freezer. It might be a little freezer burned, but – –."

"Yes." Then he remembered Puff. The kitten had been eating both canned and dry, and he got his medication twice a day, but if the night went as well as Gunnar hoped, it would be the first time Puff had been on his own overnight since they brought him home. "Puff has been eating like a horse, and he got his meds. I'm not saying I won't go home tonight, but – –."

"He'll be fine. We can stop by your place tomorrow morning when I take Lucky for his morning walk. I mean, if you want to stay that long."

"I want to stay as long as you'll have me."

"I want you to stay."

The drive to Liam's apartment couldn't go fast enough.

Knowing that in spite of everything that happened tonight, Liam still wanted him, was more powerful than any drug. And once again, Liam was saving Gunnar from himself. If he'd had to be at home alone tonight, he wouldn't have been able to stop himself from going down to his old precinct or driving to the commander's house and begging to be allowed on the case.

At home, by himself, with only the memories of his failure and everything he lost, Gunnar would have succumbed- either to his first instinct to insert himself into the case, or his second to go and hunt down his old partner and find out once and for all what had really happened. Or maybe he'd simply have found solace at the bottom of the bottle.

But it was more than that. In the past week, Liam's voice on the telephone was something he looked forward to hearing every day. He liked the doctor’s sweetness punctuated by moments of sharp wit. He liked Liam's honesty. Liam didn't pretend. He didn't always know what he wanted, but he knew what he liked, and he made no bones about showing it.

Gunnar didn't deserve someone so smart, passionate, or kind, but he was too weak to deny himself what he wanted. Not when Liam so clearly wanted him back.

When they reached the door to Liam's apartment, Liam fumbled in his pocket for the keys. Gunnar slid his hand around the omega's waist, letting his palm rest on Liam's hip. His scent was even more powerful now, a mix of sweet and sexy. Gunnar lowered his lips to Liam's neck, the open space of skin between his jawline and the collar of his shirt, and pressed a kiss on the omega's hot, slightly damp skin.

He was glad they had come back to Liam's place. He had no past here. There would be no knickknacks or photographs to remind him of Adam. Here, he could focus solely on Liam. No ghosts. No regrets. Only pleasure.

Liam opened the door. They stepped inside, and Gunnar pushed the door shut again with his heel. Liam slid his arms around Gunnar's chest, and they kissed, hard and deep. Gunnar didn't hold back, knowing Liam wouldn't appreciate it if he tried. It was lips and tongue, and a touch of teeth as Liam pushed Gunnar back against the door and started unbuttoning his shirt.

"You smell so good. Every time I'm with you, even on the phone, I'm scared I'm going to go into heat."

Gunnar had planned to take this slowly and carefully, but Liam's words went straight to his cock, and all he wanted was to be skin to skin.

"Where's your bedroom?" Gunnar asked.

They could have ice cream later. Or not at all.