MemoriesErasedTreachery (12 page)

Shit.

Each time those memories had come to mind throughout the day, it had been necessary to settle a dispute, hands on, between his cock and his briefs; neither would give an inch. It was a good thing he'd spent most of the day in his office, alone.

Conversely, he had to take responsibility for part of Devin's distraction once he'd brought out the photo albums containing every picture taken of Kiera since she had come home from the hospital. To compound his culpability, he just had to show Devin the priceless film of Kiera's baptism. Devin had laughed so hard he'd had tears in his eyes, declaring Kiera's facial expression to be identical to Ewyn's pissed off look.

Ewyn exited the elevator and glanced at his watch, wondering how much longer Devin and Timothy would be at work. Timothy's admin had sent Ewyn an email to let him know Timothy and Devin had loose ends regarding their last operation to complete.

Hell. Until the last assignment, Ewyn thought he had reconciled himself to the hazards of Devin's profession. But
knowing
how close Devin and Timothy had come to dying wasn't the same. He inhaled deeply. Had to stop thinking about that facet of Devin's job. What Devin did for a living was part of his fundamental nature, and he couldn't expect Devin to give it up. Life is iffy, and the hazards aren't occupational specific, which Cecilia proved with her attempts on his life, and his mother's murder.

Brushing those unsettling thoughts aside, he opened the front door and headed straight for the bathroom. He was running late and had to prepare dinner. After a quick shower, he toweled most of the moisture from his hair, shimmied into sweatpants and a tee shirt, and hurried into the kitchen. Knowing Timothy would be joining them, before leaving for work, he'd taken out a package of butterfly shrimp to defrost, deciding to do a quick shrimp stir-fry.

Ewyn pulled the rice cooker from the cabinet, filled it to the measure line with water. Taking the rice tin from the refrigerator, he scooped out three cups, and dumped them into the cooker to soak. He turned on the stove, adjusted the flame to medium under the wok and added a quarter-cup of vegetable oil. After he set the table, he turned on the rice cooker, took several frozen egg rolls from the freezer and popped them in the microwave.

The oil started to sizzle and he dropped the shrimp and a mix of chopped vegetables, onions, and sprouts into the wok and sprinkled Mrs. Dash seasoning over all. He tossed, stirred, and blended the ingredients until they spit and hissed, and then he put on the cover and left everything to simmer while he removed the egg rolls and placed them on a tray. One final stir, and then he emptied the contents of the wok onto a serving platter, set the micro-convect to warm/hold and shoved the stir-fry and egg rolls inside.

Ewyn was in the process of removing the cork from the wine bottle when the doorbell chimed. He looked at his watch. Patterson, damn. He'd have to invite the man to dinner. "Hell," he grumbled as he grabbed a towel, wiped his hands, and hurried into the foyer. Where were Devin and Timothy? He did not want to share a meal with the Detective.

Yanking open the door, he frowned. "Patterson."

"Mister Kelley." He glared. "You were expecting me, right?"

"Yes. Come in, have a seat. Want a beer, a glass of wine?"

"I'll have the beer, thanks." Patterson followed Ewyn to the kitchen and sat on one of the stools at the counter. "Something smells good. Am I interrupting dinner?"

"No. Devin isn't home yet."

Ewyn pulled a beer from the refrigerator and handed it to Patterson then turned to the rice cooker. He was putting the rice in a bowl when he heard the front door open then close and looked up to see Devin and Timothy come into view.

With his eyes fixed on Devin, Ewyn watched the amber gaze pass over the detective before settling on Ewyn. With his blonde hair pulled back, emphasizing the clear-cut Nordic features, Devin's eyes were full of promise and his firm mouth curved up at the corners in the special way he reserved only for Ewyn. Heat strafed his body as sexual impulses jetted through his veins. Hell. How could he not react to Devin's presence when he looked so damn good?

Not having seen Devin all day, Ewyn was surprised to see him wearing a dark brown sport coat, a beige button-down shirt, and a patterned tie in multiple shades of brown. He had on a pair of tan slacks fitted to perfection emphasizing long legs, drawing attention to strong muscular thighs, and the definitive outline of…
sh-h-yit!
His eyes darted back to Devin's face, hard-pressed to control his laughter.

Eyebrow arched, his gaze traveled from Devin's face to his trim waistline and the belt, complete with gun and badge hovering above his hips. Devin never wore his badge and gun into the condo. He only brought the gun inside to lock in the safe. Hell. Devin had said he wanted to get his point across to Patterson.

Devin removed his sport coat, draped it across the back of the sofa, and strolled into the kitchen. Ignoring their audience, he leaned down and kissed Ewyn's mouth. "Hey," he whispered, his attention focused solely on Ewyn. "Something smells good." He kissed Ewyn again then moved him aside.

Ewyn watched with fascinated wonder as all previous warmth in those clear amber eyes turned hostile when Devin's gaze settled on Patterson. A faint blush tinted the detective's cheeks as he hopped off the stool and straightened to his full height, which fell short of Devin's stature.

"Mister Nilsson." Eyes fixed on Devin's badge, Patterson held out his hand. "I'm Detective Sergeant Michael Patterson." His demeanor toward Devin--a three-sixty from the antagonism he had displayed to Ewyn.

Okay. He had to admit the gun and badge made the difference, especially with Department of Justice clearly etched across the top of the gold shield. In addition, Devin's size and bearing may have been contributing factors.

"Patterson." Devin shook the proffered hand, turned to Timothy, and made the introduction. "My boss and Mister Kelley's uncle, Timothy Ryan."

With an uneasy side-glance at Ewyn, Patterson extended his hand. "Mister Ryan. I didn't know…damn. I should have suspected when I encountered MacGregor and his people at the Calderone estate, but I thought it was a territorial issue because of the mob connections."

"We're not FBI," Timothy stated.

Patterson glanced at Devin's badge then back at Timothy, who didn't elaborate.

"Ewyn, is dinner ready? Maybe the detective would like to join us." Devin looked at Ewyn then Patterson.

"I will, thank you, if it's not an inconvenience," Patterson responded. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

Ewyn looked from Patterson to Devin, tempted to hit both of them, he controlled the impulse and mumbled, "Everything is ready. I'll set another place."

"Have a seat, Detective," Devin said over his shoulder as he left the kitchen. "Going to wash up. Be right back." He grabbed his sport coat as he passed the sofa and went into the bedroom.

Ewyn watched Devin walk away before glancing at Timothy.

"Go ahead." Timothy chuckled. "Patterson and I can manage. I'll show him where he can wash up."

 * * * *

Ewyn opened the door to an empty bedroom. Music emanated from the stereo, Devin's belt and badge lay across the bed, and his gun was on the dresser. He heard running water and strode over to the bathroom, propped himself against the doorjamb and waited. Devin finished drying his hands then looked at Ewyn and grinned.

"Do you think I made my point?"

"Hell, yeah. So much for being a sales rep." He snorted. "So why are we having him to dinner?"

"Intel." Devin walked toward the door, stopped in front of Ewyn and cupped the stubborn chin in his palm. "Need to peep his hold card, see if he's going to be a player or an obstacle." He kissed Ewyn's mouth and strode into the bedroom. Ewyn followed.

Devin opened his dresser drawer, removed the gun safe, and tucked his weapon inside. Turning to Ewyn, he slipped one arm around his waist, took Ewyn's hand in his, and slow-danced baby-boy across the floor. "Are you over your snit?" he whispered against one ear then nipped the lobe.

"Excuse me?" Ewyn leaned away and looked up at his face.

"I know you felt ignored because of all the attention I gave Kieki, but I'm gone more than I'm here, so I need to utilize every free moment I have with her. Hell. Holding her, caring for her, it made me realize I like the idea of being a daddy," Devin acknowledged. "Until Greg returns, this is my only chance to be a parent. Besides being forty years old, my occupation precludes adopting. I wouldn't do that to a child who, more than likely, has already had a stress-filled life."

"I hear you, and I'm sorry about the way I acted this weekend. Knowing your time is limited, I need to get over myself." Ewyn slipped his arms around Devin's waist. "Kieki needs as much love and attention as she can get to compensate for the lack of full-time parents." He smiled half-heartedly. "Honestly, Dev, I don't know who I was more jealous of--you or Kieki."

Devin leaned his forehead against Ewyn's and whispered, "I love you."

"Back at you." Ewyn gave him a quick kiss then moved away. "Oh-kay. Jealousy issue settled, let's go entertain the
po-leece-man
," he teased. He started toward the door then squeaked, "Dev!" Shit. He really had to do something about the girly squealing. He rubbed his ass and glared. "If we didn't have company…"

"Are you issuing an invitation?" Devin leered, wiggling his eyebrows. "I've been away a long time, don't tempt me. I have no qualms about going out there, announcing my intentions, and clearing the house. Do you want me to?"

Ewyn started to reply but thought better of it. Opening the door, he put some distance between them before he responded by childishly sticking out his tongue, thinking his gesture would be the lesser provocation. He had hoped to avoid Devin creating a scene; his optimism was in vain.

"Whoa," Devin called out, loud enough to attract Timothy and Patterson's attention and to stop Ewyn mid-stride. "I could show you several creative ways to utilize a tongue if you'll step back into the bedroom." Ewyn did a one-eighty, eyes wide, mouth opening and closing, at a loss for words. "I'm sorry, I didn't hear you." Devin grinned. "Was that a yes?"

Ewyn rushed over to him and gritted out from between clenched teeth, "Not funny, Devin."

"Funny?" Eyebrow arched, Devin queried, "Have we just met?" He kissed the compressed lips then whispered, "You know
I'm
never embarrassed."

Ewyn growled, "Fuck you."

"Now!" He never could resist teasing Ewyn. "I'm shocked. We have company." He watched baby-boy open his mouth as if to say something, instead he shook his head and stormed away. Devin followed him into the kitchen and came up behind him. "Need any help?"

"No," Ewyn snarled.

Devin chuckled and backed off. He'd wait until they were alone to pursue Ewyn's tempting offer, and to give a demonstration on the multiple uses of the tongue. He walked to the table, picked up the wine and filled each glass halfway before he sat down across from Patterson and Timothy. He dispensed with all humor when his gaze settled on the detective.

"So, Patterson, how do you want to play this?" he inquired coming straight to the point.

Ewyn came to the table with the platter of stir-fry, the egg rolls, and the bowl of rice. Setting them down, he muttered, "You can help yourselves." He plopped down on his chair and scowled.

Devin winked, picked up the rice and spooned a few portions onto his plate before passing the bowl to Patterson.

"Will your involvement be an official investigation or personal?" the detective asked.

"Strictly personal. The ball is in your court. However, we have resources you aren't privy to, and they could be helpful."

"All we ask is you keep us in the loop," Timothy interjected. "If you encounter any snags, we can check them out from our end."

"Will this be a problem with your superiors?" Devin asked. "If so, Tim will talk to them."

"There shouldn't be a problem, once I let them know we're dealing with Feds, unofficially."

"Good deal." Timothy slid his business card toward Patterson. "Contact me, if you need anything from us." He glanced at his nephew. "If you can't get hold of me, call Ewyn. In the meantime, we'll look into things from our end and turn over anything we discover."

"Even if it involves your other nephew, Gregorio?"

Ewyn had remained quiet throughout the conversation, busying himself with eating and sipping his wine while periodically glancing at Patterson. With Gregorio's name thrust into the conversation, he put his fork down, leaned back, and looked directly at the detective. Devin's knee nudged his.

"It's okay, Dev. I know how the detective feels about my family."

"Whoa, now…wait a minute," Patterson said. "You misunderstood. I know your brother's activities come under FBI jurisdiction, so you can't reveal anything connected to them. But, if some of his cronies put a hit on your nieces…"

"We'll let you know," Devin interposed before Ewyn could respond. "Then it's between you and the FBI."

"Right." Patterson sipped his wine and stared at Ewyn, who glared back. "Will you bite my head off if I tell you, dinner was delicious?"

Ewyn couldn't help himself and burst out laughing. "Thank you."

"Truce?" Patterson wiped his hands on his napkin and extended one.

Ewyn stared into Patterson's eyes for several seconds before taking the extended hand. "Truce."

"Okay. It's settled," Devin stated as he stood and proceeded to clear the table. "Ewyn, since you did all the cooking, relax, take our guest into the living room and offer him something to drink. Tim and I will clean the kitchen."

* * * *

Ewyn climbed into bed and snuggled up to Devin. "What do you think of Patterson's change of attitude?"

"Not much." Devin pulled Ewyn on top of him. "If he gives you any more grief, he'll find out about attitude." His hands roved down over Ewyn's body and settled on his ass.

"I can handle him."

Devin snorted. "I was referring to you, after the look you gave him when he mentioned Greg."