What Chris Wants

Yeah, Matt and Priss had bonded from the get-go. Because she had no other family, Matt had even stood up with her at her wedding to Trace.

It had been kind of hilarious how Trace had reacted to their fast friendship. Never mind that Matt was gay; any man who got too close to her earned Trace’s scrutiny. Well, before they were married, anyway. Now Trace still kept a very watchful eye on her, but he acted less like a caveman.

Matt waited, probably hoping that Chris would explain why he hadn’t been the one to invite him. Instead he asked, “Where is Priss?”

“Up at the house.”

Few people knew of Dare’s house, much less set foot on his property. It required an invitation, and admission past the high-tech security system.

Trust was not an easy commodity among the men. And yet…they trusted Matt.

Because Chris trusted him.

Matt’s pale-blond hair stood up in spikes atop his head. Repeated trips to the lake had left his muscular shoulders tanned. A small silver earring glinted in his ear.

It took a little effort, but Chris looked away. “If you came to see her—”

“You know I came to see you.” With hardly a ripple in the water, Matt drifted closer. “Because she’s a friend, I asked Priss if you were seeing anyone else.”

That had to be a joke. “You gossiped about me?”

Matt ignored his ire. “She said you aren’t.”

“Hate to break it to you, but Priss isn’t privy to my social calendar.”

Uneasy, Matt looked around, waiting, listening. Voices carried on the lake, but the drone of conversation up the hill continued uninterrupted, ensuring that no one listened to them.

Chris used both hands to splash his face with the cold water, but it didn’t help him get it together. Matt’s nearness left him hot and antsy. His persistence was…flattering. Damn it.

In a much quieter tone, Matt asked, “So you are?”

“No.” Unwilling to say more, Chris swam away, going to the end of the dock.

Before he could swim out into the open, Matt caught his arm. “Do you want me to leave?”

Yes. No. Fuck. Summoning up his usual, cavalier tone, Chris said, “Stay if you want.”

“I’m asking what you want.”

Keeping his back to Matt, Chris stared out at the smooth surface of the lake. This was his home. A part of him. But he understood the parameters of belonging here.

He avoided a direct answer. “I like my life here.”

“Being Dare’s errand boy?”

Even knowing that it was hurt more than disdain that put the sneer in Matt’s tone, Chris’s temper spiked. He rounded on Matt. “That’s what you think?”

Matt didn’t back down; he closed the small distance between them. “That you’ve built your life around Dare? It’s obvious, isn’t it? Caring for his dogs, living on his property in a house he gave to you.”

“The house is part of my pay.” A perk, for being so indispensable. And given the extent of Chris’s duties, he’d more than earned it.

The comfortable home suited him perfectly. He was close when sudden business took Dare out of town, but he had his own measure of privacy. And the dogs…damn it, he loved them like they were his own.

Only…they weren’t his. He ran a hand through his wet hair.

Matt touched his shoulder. “You could have more.” Unspoken, but loud and clear, was his message: You could have me.

Chris’s chest tightened. He told himself it was anger at being pushed, but he knew the truth.

What he felt was regret.

“I want this.” Over the years, he’d gotten so comfortable with his routine—a routine that accommodated every facet of Dare’s life—that he could no longer imagine working a nine-to-five job, punching a clock for someone else. Driving back and forth to work. Sitting in an office. Wearing a suit. He shuddered at the thought.

Frustration palpable, Matt narrowed his eyes. He released Chris and instead braced a hand on the wooden ladder leading up to the dock. Gaze averted, he muttered, “So that’s it, huh?”

What else was there to say? He didn’t want to leave his life, to start over, and more than that, he didn’t want to abandon Dare.

Chris followed the progress of a spider in the boards over his head, watching as it went from one end of a web to another.

It was then that he saw the very blue eye staring down at him through a space in the decking.

Scowling, he pushed out from under the dock, grabbed the ledge and hauled himself up.

Stretched out on her stomach, Arizona smiled at him. “Hey.”

“You were listening in!”

“Well, duh. Seriously, guys, we could all hear you.”

Chris looked beyond her, up the hill. Everyone made a show of talking, interacting…trying to pretend not to pay attention. Bringing his gaze back to Arizona, Chris said, “But you’re the only one down here butting in.”

Going up to her elbows and propping her chin on her fists, Arizona nodded. “Yeah, that’s me. The pushy one.”

“What do you want, Arizona?”

“To tell you that you’re an idiot. But I wanted to say it to Matt, too, so…” She put her face back down to the dock and peered down at Matt. “You might as well come on out, you big chicken.”

Up at the house, Spencer called, “Arizona, honey, come back up here. Leave them be.”

She yelled over her shoulder, “No.” And then, with another smile aimed at Chris, she said, “You know I want you to be happy.”

God. As Matt climbed the ladder to join her on the dock, Chris dropped back with a splash.

“Chris?” She came to stand at the edge, staring down at him.

He splashed her, soaking the front of her shirt. “Butt out.”

Gasping at the cold water, she held her shirt away from her body and huffed. “Don’t be childish.”