Tagged And Bagged

It’s the quiet ones who are the most dangerous.

Houston is used to being the official wallflower of

Flint’s EMS community. Not only has he grown up that
way, because he was always so soft-spoken, but he was
usually too busy cleaning up his twin’s messes to have
time to worry about anything else. Then, when his twin
falls in love, Houston finds himself alone and
floundering as he tries to adjust to all the changes.

Born and raised in Flint, Rich knows how hard life

can  be.  When  he  joins  the  police  force,  he  becomes
even  more  jaded.  The  last  thing  he  expects  is  to  find
himself  attracted  to  is  one  of  the  biggest  brats  in  the
city.  Sure,  most  people  think  Houston  is  meek  and
quiet, but they’ve never seen the real side of the medic
like Rich has.

Then Houston makes the mistake of pissing off the

most dangerous criminal in Flint and Rich finds himself
rushing to the rescue. Will Rich be in time to save
Houston, or will they both end up tagged and bagged?

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entirely coincidental.

Tagged And Bagged

ISBN: 978-1-77111-222-2

Cover art by Martine Jardin

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Chapter One

’m trapped in a pair of handcuffs and need your
help

It wasn’t the first time Rich received a text message

that read along those same lines, and he hoped it
wouldn’t be the last. At that moment, though, he
wanted nothing more than to throw his cell as far away
as he could and forget that he ever saw the message.

His heart raced as he felt a rush of panic…no, it was

anger…okay, it was panic. But he had a really good
reason. Even the bravest man would be shaking in his
boots if he were in Rich’s position.

For the message hadn’t just come from anybody. It

had come from the one person who had the ability to
make Rich want to run and hide under the bed. Just like
he used to as a kid, only the person in question was
much smaller than the fabled Boogie Man.

The phone registered the sender as Avoid At-All

Costs. Of course, Rich had never let the caller know
that’s how his number was listed. Mostly because Rich
had been doing his best to avoid him at all costs.

He ran a hand through his hair as he sank down on

the edge of his bed. The clock read midnight, and he
had to be to work at five in the morning. Leave it to this
guy to not make anything easy.

Tagged And Bagged

He should just ignore the call. He could say he never

got it, and eventually the brat would move on to another
victim.  No  doubt  it  would  be  his  twin,  the  one  that
everybody  said  was  the  real  trouble  maker  in  the
family.  Oh,  but  how  wrong  they  were.  They  didn’t
know the guy like Rich did.

Houston—AKA Avoid At-All Costs—AKA Tagged

and Bagged.

The cell chirped again, almost as if it were mocking

Rich. When he looked down at the new message, he let
out a soft curse, Can you hurry? These ladies are
getting real handsie.

Was handsie even a word? Rich shook his head,

realizing  he  could  never  make  sense  out  of  anything
Houston  said  or  texted.  The  guy  liked  to  talk  in  a
language  of  his  own,  and  if  the  rest  of  the  world
couldn’t keep up, too damn bad.

The fucking phone chirped again, and Rich swore it

was laughing at him, Hello? Are you out there? Answer
me. It’s really hard to text while cuffed, and I don’t
want to be talking to myself here.

Okay, consider him sucked in, because there was no

way Rich could not reply to that. If it’s so hard, then
why are you sending out novel length messages?

Quick as fire, a reply came back, The written word

really is a lost art form. Don’t you agree?

Rich actually began to strangle his phone at that

point. He stopped when he realized two things—first,
the phone wasn’t under warranty, and, two, it would
feel so much better to strangle the real thing.

Where are you? Rich only prayed Brat wasn’t three

cities over.

Stephani Hecht

I’m at Haley’s bachelorette party. I was supposed to

be the entertainment

Rich didn’t know whether to laugh or feel sorry for

Houston.  Haley  was  an  RN  at  St.  Michael’s  hospital.
Since  she was popular  and a  bit of  a party animal,  her
little  gathering  probably  had  dozens  of  woman  at  it.
Poor Houston was cuffed and at their mercy.

Alright, Rich just wanted to laugh.
Since he still had a bit of pity left in him, he typed

back, I’ll be there in ten.

A couple seconds later the phone alerted him that he

had a reply, but Rich didn’t even bother looking at it.
Instead, he rummaged around for something half-clean
to wear.

He eventually found a pair of jeans and a t-shirt that

didn’t smell and weren’t too wrinkly. He cast a gaze
over the bedroom. Like the rest of the apartment, it was
a tad messy. Housekeeping had never been his favorite
thing. Plus, it wasn’t like he had visitors over.

He put on his shoes, grabbed his bastard of a phone,

and went out to his car. Of course, it started raining,
because it was just his night—cue sarcasm. The only
things missing were the locusts and fiery hail.

True to his promise, he pulled up in front of Haley’s

in  under  ten  minutes.  He’d  been  there  plenty  of  times
before,  since  she  did  love  to  throw  a  party.  He’d  even
spent one New Year’s Eve in her bathtub.

Ah, the memories.
Since her driveway was full, he had to park in the

street. Even at that distance and with the rain, he could
still hear the noise from the house. There was loud
music, cat-calls, and some whistles. Most telling of all

Tagged And Bagged

were the screams of, “Come on, Houston, shake it
baby!”

Rich braced himself before he opened the door and

let himself in. He walked into the living room and burst
out laughing.

Houston had taken cover in one corner of the living

room. His brown hair sported several cowlicks, most of
which looked as if they were made by somebody
pulling on it. His hands were cuffed in front of him, but
he still had his cell clutched in his fingers. Almost as if
was his only lifeline.

He stood slightly, and Rich could see the guy’s red

shirt was torn and stretched at the collar, and the fly of
his jeans were undone. The funniest thing of all was the
fact that Houston only wore one battered tennis shoe.
The other foot was clad only in a sock that was halfway
off.

Haley spotted Rich and lifted up a cup in greeting.

“Rich! Thank God you’re here. We have a naughty boy
who won’t cooperate.”

“Yeah, spank him, officer,” another voice called.
Houston took a step toward Rich, only to pull back

when one of the ladies grabbed his pants and tried to
pull them down.

“How many times do I have to tell you? I am not a

stripper,” Houston shouted as he jumped back.

“Then why did you come to a bachelorette party

with nothing but your cute ass and a set of handcuffs?”
somebody yelled.

“Because Haley said she wanted me to give you

guys a magic show.” Houston used his cuffed hands to
bat away a few of the more touchy gals.

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Rich gave Haley a really? Look. “Tell me you did

not trick him into coming here?”

She grinned and gave a shrug. “It was so easy to do,

too. He’s way too trusting.”

“How did that become a character flaw?” Houston

demanded.

“The second you found yourself cuffed and at the

mercy of a house full of woman,” Rich replied.

Houston raised up his cuffed hands and looked up

from  under  his  lashes,  his  brown  eyes  pleading.  Rich
would  have  been  lying  to  say  he’d  never  imagined
Houston  in  that  exact  same  position.  In  fact,  Rich
thought  about  it  so  much  that  some  nights  he  could
hardly sleep. Of course, in Rich’s mind it had just been
he and Houston, minus a house full of women.

Remember, Avoid At-All Costs!
Then Houston gave him a crooked smile that was

equal parts cute and fuck-me hot, and Rich could
scarcely remember to breathe, let alone keep his wits to
recall why he and Houston were a bad idea.

For a while, Rich had stupidly let himself believe

that  he  could  actually  try  to  make  a  go  for  it  with
Houston. Rich had even gone so far as to ask around to
see if Houston was single. Then, just as Rich was about
to  ask  the  brat  out,  a  letter  had  arrived.  It  was  just
simple  short  sentences,  but  it’d  changed  everything  in
Rich’s  life.  Or  maybe  a  better  way  to  put  it  would  be
that it reminded Rich just how much the world sucked.

Houston represented everything good. He was

innocent, with just the right amount of devil thrown in.
He always thought the best of people. Most of all, he
wasn’t jaded. Rich knew that if he spent too much time

Tagged And Bagged

with the boy, his bitterness would rub off on Houston.

Rich would rather be shot than for that to ever

happen.

Houston shook his hands a bit. “Are you going to

take these off or not?”

“Hey, Rich! Did you bring your tomahawk and

Indian feathers with you? You can strip with Houston”
somebody yelled.

Houston shot off a glare as the angel fled and the

devil took center stage. “Hey, Cadence, how many
times do I have to tell you that shit like that isn’t PC?
It’s Native American. Catch a clue for once.”

Houston shifted his gaze back to Rich, then said,

“Just ignore her. She’s had too much to drink.”

“How about you?”
Houston rolled his eyes. “They told me I won’t get

anything until I start stripping.”

“Just as well. You’re such a lightweight that after

one cup, you’d be passed out. Then you’d really be at
their mercy.”

“Yeah, you may have a point there.” Houston held

his hands up again. “Now, will you get me out of
these?”

“No.”
Houston crinkled his brow. “Why?”
Rich decided it was time for him to admit to his own

big mistake of the night. “I kind of forgot the key at
home.”

“Oh…I kind of did the same thing. Either that or one

of these girls stole it.”

“I’d put my money on the latter.”
“Why? They all know I’m gay. With the way they’re

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acting, you’d think I was a teen wolf or vampire.”

Rich knew full well what they all saw in Houston.

The medic had the adorable thing down pat, all the way
from his awkward mannerisms to his big, doe eyes. He
just had a way about him that made people want to take
him home, tuck him into bed, and feed him a big plate
of cookies.

“So, how am I supposed to get out of these? I have

to work tomorrow, and I won’t be any good like this.”

Rich bit back a laugh. “You sound so sure of that.”
“Oh, I am. One time Matt cuffed James and Randal

together.”

“While they were working?”
“Yes, it was when they were closing down that one

hospital, and we had to transfer all the patients across
the city to a different facility. There was a lot of hurry
and waiting going on, so Matt got bored and, well, we
all know that never ends well.”

Rich pinched the bridge of his nose. God save him

from medics, because Satan surely put them on the
Earth solely to drive Rich batty.

“Where is your handcuff key?” Houston pressed.
“Back at home in my nightstand.”
That earned him a look of shock. Rich looped a

finger through the chain and jiggled it. “Where did you
get a set of standard issue cuffs?”

“I borrowed them from Charlie.”
When Houston shifted his gaze to the side and began

to hum under his breath in an act of pure innocence,
Rich knew Brat was a liar.

“Borrowed or stole?”
“Since I was planning on returning them, borrowed.

Tagged And Bagged

I’m not a thief.”

“You’re not?”
“No, it’s bad for your karma to do stuff like that.”
Rich ran a hand through his short hair. It was a good

thing he didn’t keep it long or else he’d be tearing out
chunks of it by now. Houston had a way of being
frustrating and desirable at the same time.

“Call Charlie and tell him to drive over here with his

key,” Rich suggested.

Rich realized the comment would come off as a bit

irrational, since it would be quicker if he and Houston
just drove back to his apartment. But there was no way
Rich could take Houston there. It was way too close to
Rich’s bed for his comfort. His self-control already felt
ready to snap as it was.

When Houston bit his bottom lip and glanced away

again,  Rich  knew  he  was  in  trouble.  His  heart  even
pounded  a  bit  harder  as  a  cold  sweat  broke  out  of  his
body.  He  wondered  if  this  was  how  a  rabbit  felt  right
after  it  spotted  a  big,  hungry  kitty  cat.  For  while
Houston  might be the smaller of them, Rich knew  Brat
could  take  him  down  with  just  a  simple  snap  of  his
fingers.

“Charlie and Dakota aren’t replying to any of my

texts,” Houston confessed.

And there it went…the great big, figurative piano

falling on Rich’s head. The only things missing were
Bugs or the Road Runner.

Houston must have realized Rich’s frustration. The

medic let out a soft sigh as he used his socked foot to
trace a circle in the carpet. “That’s okay. I’ll just call
Benny.”

Stephani Hecht

That name hit Rich like a kick to the nuts. “Benny? I

didn’t know you guys were a couple.”

Rich told himself that the emotion making his

stomach churn and blood boil was not jealousy. In fact,
he was glad Houston had moved on to somebody
else…honest, he was.

So, if that was the case, then why did Rich want to

find the other detective and punch him in his perfectly
shaped nose.

“We’re just talking”
“Talking—talking?”
And just like that, Rich had stooped to the level of a

love-sick high school kid. Next, he would be the one
yelling for Houston to shake his money-maker.

Houston shrugged. “We’ve exchanged numbers and

talked a few times, but it’s not like we’re shopping for
matching wedding rings or anything.”

Houston stood on tiptoe and yelled at the woman.

“And if I do ever get married, all of you are coming to
strip at my bachelor party.”

Somehow, Rich didn’t think that Houston expected

for that announcement to get a bunch of hell, yeahs and
cheers.

Houston’s smile faded as he paled a bit. “Oh, shit.

They really mean it, don’t they?”

Looping his finger back in the chain, Rich started to

lead Houston toward the door. “I’m afraid so. They
seem pretty excited, and you don’t want to let them
down.”

“Damn,” Houston cursed again as he shot a look of

pure fear at the party goers. “Hey, where are you taking
me?”

Stephani Hecht

Chapter Two

ouston scrambled to keep up with Rich, all the
while praying he didn’t trip and fall on his face.

The last thing Houston wanted was to make an even
bigger fool out of himself than he already had.

“My shoe,” he finally remembered.
Letting out a long-suffering sigh…as if he had been

the  one  who’d  been  mishandled,  Rich  somehow
managed  to  find  Houston’s  shoe  in  the  mess.  Which
wasn’t easy, because every time Rich bent over to look,
the  women  would  rate  his  ass.  It  didn’t  do  much  for
Houston’s  ego  when  he  heard  Rich  getting  a  higher
rating than his.

Rich found his shoe and held it up. Houston tensed,

expecting him to just toss it at him, but Rich came over,
knelt down and picked up Houston’s foot.

“You don’t have to…I mean, I can do that,” Houston

stammered, a heat coming over his face.

“Just make sure you don’t lose your balance and fall

on top of me,” Rich grumbled.

“I’m not the twin who does that kind of thing.”
In fact, the whole reason he’d earned the nickname

Tagged and Bagged was because Dakota, AKA Status

Tagged And Bagged

Dramaticus, was one day going to get both of them
killed. While they’d only been medics for a short while,
Dakota quickly earned the reputation of always being in
the center of trouble.

Houston, on the other hand, was known as the dull

twin, the predictable one, or Mr. Reliable. In other
words, one hundred percent forgettable.

Rich reached and tugged at the handcuff. “You look

like you’re creating all kinds of drama tonight.”

Didn’t Houston wish. Sure, Dakota might always be

in some kind of trouble, but at least his life was
interesting. The only excitement Houston got was
secondhand.

“This doesn’t count. I was trying to help, and I

didn’t mean to get into trouble,” Houston felt
compelled to point out.

“You know what?”
Houston let out an aggravated sigh. The last thing he

wanted to do was play guessing games. “What?”

“I’ve heard Dakota say the exact same thing on

numerous occasions.”

“I’m not my brother!”
When the entire house went silent, Houston realized

he’d shouted that pretty loud. Horrified, he closed his
eyes and just wished that he could have a whole do-
over on the evening.

“You’re right. Dakota would have never fallen for

the magician story,” Cadence said.

“One more word from you, and I’m going to find the

smelliest, grossest guy and bring him to your ER
tomorrow,” Houston threatened. He then paused before
asking, “And how do you know that Dakota wouldn’t

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have been fooled?”

“Because he’s the cagey one, while you’re the

cutie.”

“Was that an insult or a compliment?” Houston

whispered to Rich.

“Just smile and nod, so we can get the hell out of

here,” Rich advised.

So Houston did just that while Rich led him out like

he was just some other criminal under arrest. When
they went outside and Rich tried to put Houston in the
backseat, that was it. Digging his heels into the gravel,
Houston began to pull away, “Nah-uh.”

“What’s your problem now?”
There was no mistaking the irritation in Rich’s

voice. A smarter man would have just ducked his head
and become obedient. Instead, Houston began to shake
his head and continued to try to get away. Maybe
Cadence did have a point after all, and Houston was as
dumb as the rocks under his feet.

“I’m not getting in the back seat. I want to sit up

front.”

Rich let out a sigh, and Houston could hear him

counting to ten. “I have crap piled in the front, so just
get in the back.”

“I don’t have to. This isn’t a real cop car, and I’m

not under arrest.”

“It’s just a short ride. You can deal with it.”
“I get carsick if I don’t sit in the front,” Houston

sang, playing his ace card.

For a moment, he thought Rich still was going to

stuff him in the back. The cop’s brown eyes grew dark
with anger, and a tic developed over one of his highly

Tagged And Bagged

arched cheekbones. He even let out another one of
those muttered curses. In the end, he finally said, “Fuck
it! Fine, get in the front, but don’t touch anything.”

Houston held up his cuffed hands. “I don’t think

that’s going to be a problem.”

Rich still had to help Houston get in and buckle up.

Once  he  was  done,  he  went  around  the  car  and  got  in
behind  the  wheel.  Turning  on  the  ignition,  Rich  said,
“We’re just going to my place to get the key, and once
you’re  free,  I’m  going  to  bring  you  right  back  here  to
get your own car. We’re not dallying around.”

Houston rolled his eyes. “I was planning on

wallpapering all your walls, but if you’re on such a
tight time crunch, you can forget it.”

“Don’t be such a brat.”
“By the way, you are the only person I’ve heard use

the word dally. Well, the only one other than my
grandmother and her bridge club.”

“Shut up, or I’ll drive you to her house instead.”
“Good luck with that one. As soon as she sees my

mug, she’ll slam the door in our faces.”

It gave Houston some satisfaction to see Rich wince.
“Sorry, kid. I forgot.”
“Let me guess, your family is all accepting, and they

just adore you. They probably have your pictures up all
over the place.”

“My parents are dead.”
“Oh,” Houston replied, feeling ten times a jerk.
He shrank back against the seat. Way to go! Now

he’ll like you for sure. While you’re at it, why don’t you
just buy him a puppy, just so you can kick it around a
bit?

Stephani Hecht

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know,” Houston apologized.
“That’s okay.”
Houston still felt like an ass. “I never heard Charlie

mention it, either.”

One would think that since Rich and Charlie worked

so closely together, they’d know everything about each
other.

Rich’s face was set in an emotionless mask as he

stared out the windshield. “I don’t talk about it much.
All I have left is my grandmother and some cousins.”

“My family disowned Dakota and me when we came

out,” Houston offered, in hopes of letting Rich know
that he wasn’t the only one who knew how sad it was to
be alone.

“Yeah, I heard something about that.”
“Do you want to know a secret? It’s something I

never told even Dakota.”

Houston stared down at his hands, his heart thudding

a bit harder as he wondered if Rich would hate him
once he found out the truth.

“What secret is that, Brat?”
Funny, when Rich said it in a gentle, kind tone, that

word almost sounded like an endearment.

“My dad told me that it’s all my fault that Dakota is

gay.”

Rich finally looked away from the road long enough

to shoot Houston an incredulous look “You know he’s
full of shit, right? You can no sooner make somebody
gay than they can turn you straight.”

“I know, but at least Dakota could pass if he tried.

Even before we came out to our parents, I was a
disappointment. I was too quiet, too slow. I liked

Tagged And Bagged

science fiction movies and books, instead of football or
hockey.  The  entire  time  I  was  growing  up,  my  father
never  forgot  to  remind  me  of  all  my  faults,  too.  I
sometimes  wonder  if  Dakota  had  been  the  only  one
who was gay, if they would have been okay with it.”

“You don’t honestly think they’d use that as an

excuse?” Rich pulled into an apartment complex and
parked the car.

Houston just shrugged in response, then waited for

Rich to come around and help him out. Rich then took
Houston by the arm and began to lead him toward a
stairwell.

By the second step, Houston was irritated enough to

try getting out of Rich’s hold. “You don’t have to
handle me that way. I’m not one of your bad guys.”

Rich cocked a brow. “Bad guys?”
“Okay, the perp, the suspect, the collar, the criminal

mastermind…” Houston beamed at him. “See, I know
the right terminology. I watch Law & Order reruns all
the time.”

“God help us all,” Rich sighed.
He stopped at one of many doors lining the hall and

unlocked it. Once he opened it, he ushered Houston in.

Houston was all set to make a sarcastic comment

along the lines of Is this where I get my strip search,
Officer? But when he saw the condition of the inside,
all that came out was, “Ah, shit! You don’t clean much,
do you?”

Actually it wouldn’t have been too bad had it not

been  for  the  numerous  boxes  scattered  all  over  the
place. Some of them were opened enough  for Houston
to see they contained  everyday  household  items,  while

Stephani Hecht

others  were  taped  up  tight.  The  only  furniture  was  a
sparse  card  table  and  one  folding  chair  in  the  kitchen.
The  living room  boasted of a  large screen HD TV that
was mounted to the wall and a battered futon.

“Did you just move here?” Houston asked.
“No, I’ve been here for three years.”
Rich led Houston back to the bedroom.
“Then why are there…oh, never mind.” Houston

shook his head.

If Rich wanted to live out of boxes, who was he to

judge?  Houston  knew  there  would  be  some  who  took
offense  to  his  own  décor.  Although  for  the  life  of  him
he  couldn’t  understand  who  wouldn’t  get  excited  by
vintage  Star  Wars  collectables.  It  wasn’t  Houston’s
fault that the theme had kind of taken over most of his
space.

Houston half-expected to find more boxes and

maybe a blow up mattress, so when he saw a nice,
heavy oak bedroom set, it came as a surprise. Sure there
were clothes scattered all over the place, but the bed
was halfway made and the sheets looked clean.

Before Houston could make a comment on that,

Rich led him over to nightstand. When Rich opened the
door, Houston stood on tiptoe in hopes of seeing what
else the nice officer might have stashed there. Rich’s
big body blocked the way, though.

Rich turned, the key in his hand. “Give me your

hands.”

“When I changed the topic back in the car, I didn’t

do it because I was a jerk or anything,” Houston blurted
as he lifted his wrists.

That made Rich pause, his face unreadable. “What in

Tagged And Bagged

the hell are you talking about?”

Okay, that was not the reply that Houston hoped for.

He  didn’t  want  Rich  to  think  he  was  just  another
asshole  who only wanted to talk about himself and  his
problems. Houston swallowed as  he tried to think of a
way  to  explain  himself  better.  The  only  problem  was,
whenever he got nervous, he tended to get too chatty.

“When you were talking about your family, I could

tell  it  hurt  you,  so  I  thought  that  if  maybe  I  told  you
about…Well,  if  maybe  you knew that  you weren’t the
only one who…” Houston took a deep breath. He so did
not want to mess this up, so he needed to get a grip.

“You can be one confusing little ball of terror

sometimes,” Rick said.

Since the cop still wasn’t showing any damn

emotion, Houston didn’t know if that was a good thing
or not. At a loss, he finally just spilled, “Look, I know
you’re not ready to talk about your family situation, but
I’ll be here for you whenever you are.”

When Rich just continued to stare and say nothing,

Houston felt a heat creep over his face. Just when
Houston thought the evening couldn’t have possibly
gotten worse, he had to pull off a grand finale.

Houston nipped at his bottom lip as he eyed the

door. Maybe it would just be better if he made a run for
it and left while he had some dignity left. There had to
be somebody else out there who could help him with
his handcuff issue. If not, Houston felt pretty certain
he’d learn to adapt enough to wear them the rest of his
life. How bad could it be?

Letting out a sigh, Houston turned and started for the

door, only to have Rich pull his cuffs up short. “Where

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are you going?”

“I may be stupid, but even I know when it’s time to

leave.” Houston gave a tiny smile.

Rich stared down at him, and, for the first time,

Houston saw a flicker of emotion in the cop’s eyes.
While Houston wasn’t a profiler or anything, even he
could recognize anger and frustration. Neither of which
boded well for him.

“I’m sorry if I pissed you off. I didn’t mean to,

honest. I just thought that we were friends, so you
would feel comfortable talking to me,” Houston said.

Rich grabbed him by the shoulders and gave him a

shake. “The last thing I think of when I see you is
friends.”

Houston’s mouth opened in a soundless O as pain

sliced through him.

“Okay,” he finally managed to get out as he tried to

take a step back.

Oh damn, he should be used to rejection by now.

Aside  from  Dakota,  that’s  all  Houston  got  from
everybody  else.  He  reminded  himself  that  it  would  be
better  to  know  now  instead  of  later  when  he’d  gotten
really emotionally invested.

Oh, save it. I’m already emotionally invested.

Otherwise, it wouldn’t feel as if Rich just ripped my
heart out and stomped on it.

“Just let me go,” Houston began to struggle.
He felt a frantic need to get away. He just wanted to

be back in his own room, where he could be surrounded
by all his things. It was the only place where he really
fit in, and he’d been an idiot to think otherwise.

When Rich wouldn’t let go, a burst of rage shot

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through Houston. “I get it, okay! You fucking hate me.
Don’t worry, the stupid idiot got the message loud and
clear. I’ll never bother you again.”

Rich’s features softened. “I don’t hate you.”
“Then why—”
Houston’s question was cut short when Rich dipped

his head down and captured Houston’s lips in a kiss that
was so hot…so sexy…so good that Houston’s anger
quickly melted into desire.

Pulling back just a bit, Rich whispered, “The

problem  isn’t  me  not  liking  you.  I’ve  already  decided
that  I  like  you  way  too  much  for  your  own  good.  In
fact,  I’m  fighting  with  everything  inside  me  not  to
throw you on the bed and fuck your brains out.”

Houston lifted his cuffed hands up and looped them

around Rich’s neck. Then tilting his head back,
Houston dug up every bit of his courage to say three
words, “What’s stopping you?”

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Chapter Three

ich knew he’d made a terrible mistake by ever
going in for that first kiss, but damned if that

didn’t  stop  him  for  going  in  for  a  second  and  then  a
third  one.  Maybe…just  maybe  Rich  might  have  had  a
chance of ending things then, but when Houston looped
his  wrists  behind  Rich’s  neck,  all  of  his  self-control
shattered.

“So good,” Houston whispered, his fingers twirling a

piece of Rich’s hair.

That was one thing Rich could agree with. Then

Houston did a little hop and wrapped his legs around
Rich’s waist, and things became explosive. Houston
even did a little swivel thing with his hips so their cocks
ground together.

Even with desire shooting through his body, Rich

forced himself to pull back a bit. “Slow down, Brat, I
don’t want to hurt you.”

Houston began to rain kisses down Rich’s neck.

“Don’t worry. I’ve done this before.”

That was interesting since it was a well-known fact

that Dakota had been a virgin before Charlie. Not that
the couple had gone public with that news. Dakota’s

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asshole of an ex was a firefighter with a big mouth. One
of his favorite topics was how he’d strung Dakota along
forever, not even so much as giving the medic a kiss. It
had been some sick game to the fireman. The last time
the idiot had been at the bar, Rich had almost punched
the guy right in his smug face.

“You’ve had sex before?” Rich asked, just to be

sure.

He’d learned the hard way that it was always better

to get all the details from Houston instead of just
nodding and then moving on. While Houston never out-
right lied, he did have a nasty habit of keeping certain
tidbits to himself.

“Sure, I even had a threesome before.”
That comment shocked Rich enough to pull back so

he could get a better look at Brat. “What? When? With
who?”

“Two guys I picked up at some club.” Houston

ducked his head. “It wasn’t all that I thought it would
be.”

“Did they hurt you?” If they had touched one hair on

his brat’s head, Rich would hunt them down and hurt
them—a lot.

Houston shook his head as he blushed. “No, they

just kind of really got into each other and forgot that I
was there.”

“They left you out?”
“Yeah, that’s something they never show happening

in  the  porn  movies  or  dirty  books.”  Houston  let  out  a
sad  sounding  sigh.  “After  a  while,  things  got  really
awkward. Well, at least for me,  it did. There I was, all
naked  and  ready,  but  no  place  to  go.  Meanwhile,  they

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were just inches from me, going at it like the fate of the
world depended on it. I didn’t know whether to sneak
out quietly or to break out the pom-poms and start
cheering them on.”

Rich couldn’t help but laugh at that last comment.

He shifted  his  hands down, so he could cup Houston’s
ass.  While  Rich  had  taken  plenty  of  mental
measurements,  he’d  always  wondered  how  Houston’s
cheeks would feel in his hands. Rich found that it was a
perfect fit.

He gave a few experimental squeezes. Houston let

out a yelp, his head tilting back to display a neck just
made for biting.

“So, we know that you don’t like threesomes.” Rich

leaned forward and gave Houston’s throat a long, slow
lick. “Tell me something that you do like.”

Houston swiveled his hips again, a soft whimper

falling past his lips. “Just one?”

“We can start there.”
“I like to be fucked hard. Not only so I can feel like

the  other  guy  is  really  into  me,  but  so  I  have  bruises.
That  way,  I  can  look  at  them  the  next  day  and
remember  all  the  hot  sex  I  had.  It’s  even  better  if  I’m
sore,  too.  That  way,  every  time  I  move,  I  get  to  think
back on the encounter.”

Rich nearly dropped Houston’s lower half. “Are you

trying to kill me?”

Houston gave a slight mock pout. “No, because then

you wouldn’t be able to fuck me.”

A man could only take so much teasing. Letting out

a growl, Rich turned their bodies slightly, so they could
fall on the mattress. They landed, Houston on his back,

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Rich spread out over him. Rich grabbed Houston’s
arms and lifted up, so his cuffed hands no longer held
them in an embrace.

“Are you going to finally unlock me?” Houston

asked.

“No, I have something more entertaining in mind.”
Before Houston could ask any more questions, Rich

hooked  the  cuffs  around  one  of  the  headboard  posts.
Houston  let  out  a  little  gasp,  his  eyes  widening  in
understanding,  before  he  let  out  a  moan,  his  body
arching up slightly.

Sitting up on his knees, Rich straddled Houston’s

hips and then looked down at the fucking-fantastic gift
under  him.  Some  would  consider  Houston  on  the  thin
side,  but  to  Rich,  the  man’s  body  was  the  perfect
combination  of  muscles,  dips,  and  ridges.  There  were
even  a  few  spots  that  could  be  labeled  as  baby  fat,
although Rich wasn’t brave enough to voice that aloud.

Houston let out a keening noise as he arched up

again. This time Rich went up farther on his knees, so
Houston couldn’t rub off on him. The handcuffs rattled,
and Houston’s breath hitched.

“Please…touch me. Or at least help me get off

before I explode.

Rich traced a finger down the center of Houston’s

chest. “That’s a real romantic way to put it.”

“Screw the romance, I just want your cock inside my

ass.”

Those words, coming from the normally sweet, shy

man, turned Rich on like nothing else ever had.
Houston’s urgency spread to Rich, and the cop knew
that he needed some real skin-on-skin action.

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The collar of Houston’s shirt was already ruined, so

Rich didn’t feel any guilt as he ripped the item of
clothing in half. Houston let out a low hiss as his chests
become exposed to Rich’s fingers.

Touching soon wasn’t enough, and Rich began to

rain  kisses  down  the  medic’s  skin.  When  he  reached
Houston’s  nipples,  Rich  took  extra  time.  Mostly
because  of  the  way  Houston  reacted.  Not only  did  the
younger  man  let  out  a  string  of  curse  words,  but  the
handcuffs rattled as  he  fought to get  free.  Rich  had  no
doubt  that  if  not  for  the  restraints,  he’d  be  on  the
receiving end of some pretty serious hair pulling.

Not that he would hate that to happen—it was just

that he enjoyed having Houston at his mercy too much
to give it up quite yet. Houston bent his legs and lifted
his ass off the bed some, as if he were desperate to get
closer to Houston. That was a feeling Houston could
entirely relate to. Every lick and nibble of Houston’s
hot flesh added another layer to Rich’s desire.

“You taste sweet. Just like that crap you eat all the

time.”

Houston laughed. “Most people call it candy.”
“Whatever, after this I’m going to buy you cases of

the stuff.”

Rich got back on his knees and unzipped Houston’s

fly  the  rest  of  the  way.  He  left  the  pants  up  for  the
moment and stretched over to the nightstand. Grabbing
a  bottle  of  lube  and  condom,  Rich  tossed  them  on  the
bed  and  then  reached  for  the  waistband  of  Houston’s
jeans.

Rich slowly peeled them down, making sure to take

the boxers with them, so he could fully see each inch of

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flesh. When he got down to Houston’s feet, there was a
bit  of  awkwardness  when  Rich  realized  he’d  forgotten
Houston’s shoes. But they  laughed over  it, and  it soon
felt  just  as  right  as  any  other  moment  they’d  shared
since walking into the bedroom.

Once he had all the clothes off, Rich tossed them to

the  side  and  looked  down  at  Houston.  Thanks  to  the
way his hands were bound, Houston’s body arched just
perfectly,  so  all  of  his  muscles  were  accented.  Then
Rich noticed a tattoo right above the medic’s right hip.
Leaning down, Rich traced it.

“It’s the Star of Life,” Houston explained.
“Does Dakota have one, too?”
“Nah, one night Matt, Lucas, and I had too much to

drink and wandered into a tattoo parlor.”

“Let me guess, it was Matt’s idea.”
Houston gave him a crooked smile. “Actually, it was

mine.”

“That doesn’t surprise me. I’ve already figured out

that you are nowhere near as boring as you think.”

And damn Houston for being so interesting and

desirable, too. For while part of Rich still screamed that
they shouldn’t be doing this, a larger part of himself
knew that there was no way in hell he could stop the
encounter.

“You need to get naked, too,” Houston pointed out.
Still staring at the tattoo—who knew they could be

so  sexy—Rich  began  to  pull  at  his  clothes.  All  the
while, he could practically feel Houston’s gaze burning
into  him.  While  Rich  knew  he  wasn’t  a  troll,  he  knew
he  wasn’t  a  muscle  man,  either.  Yet,  when  he  spotted
the look of utter adoration on Houston’s face, Rich felt

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like a god…or at the least a demi-god. One should
always have realistic expectations, after all.

Houston let out a moan. “Damn, you’re hot.”
Getting back on the bed, Rich leaned down and

nibbled on the tattoo. Houston let out a sound that
sounded suspiciously like a giggle.

“Sorry, that tickled.”
Since Houston was bound and helpless, of course

Rich did it for several more minutes. It wasn’t every
day that he had his brat bound and at his mercy. Rich
wanted to take full advantage of it.

Then, just as Houston was gasping for air, Rich

moved his head and wrapped his lips around Houston’s
thick cock. Houston let out a yell, the cuffs clinking
against the headboard.

“What happened to warning a guy?” Houston asked

with a shaky voice.

Rich sucked him off for several moments before he

grabbed the lube and held it up. “How about this? I’m
going to slick my fingers up and fuck you with them.”

“And yet you accuse me of being unromantic,”

Houston drawled.

The comment didn’t fool Rich for a moment. “You

love it, and you know it.”

He opened the bottle and poured the liquid over his

fingers, making his movements slow and deliberate so
there was no way Houston could miss them. Houston
licked his lips, his eyes darkening with desire.

“Yeah, I do,” Houston admitted.
Rich hooked the other man’s knees over his

shoulders. All the while he watched Houston’s face
carefully to make sure the new position didn’t put too

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much pressure on his wrists. While Rich felt pretty sure
Houston would have plenty of interesting bruises
tomorrow, he didn’t want to do any serious damage.

Looking down at Houston’s ass, Rich admired the

way it sloped perfectly. Rich even moaned his approval
as he ran the palm of his hand over one cheek. He left
behind a bit of a mess when lube got all over
everything, but that was what the laundromat was for.

When he finally began to use one finger to rim the

outside of Houston’s tight opening, they were both
tense with need. Houston pulled on the cuffs and
whimpered, “Please, I can’t wait any longer.”

Rich thrust in one finger, then paused to give

Houston time to adjust. Houston let out a frustrated
growl. “What part of the word masochist is confusing
you? Give it to me hard.”

Rich added a second finger, but no more. When

Houston opened his mouth to bitch, Rich gave him a
sharp slap on the ass. “You’ll get it when I say you’re
ready and not a second sooner.”

He half-expected Houston to keep complaining, so

when he let out a moan and nodded instead, it came as
the most pleasant kind of surprise. “Good boy.”

Rich then added a third finger, the sounds coming

from  Houston  so  hot that  it  was  a  wonder  Rich  didn’t
give into the brat’s demands and take him right away. It
was  only  by  reminding  himself  that  Houston  would
probably  like  being  able  to  walk  around  the  next  day
that made Rich hold back.

As soon as he felt Houston was loose enough, Rich

almost let out a cheer. Since even he knew that would
be a tad too much, he grabbed the condom and opened

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it instead.

“Yes, that…please,” Houston panted.
“It’s a good thing I don’t have neighbors on the

other side of this wall. They would have probably
called in a noise complaint by now.”

“You love it, and you know it,” Houston replied,

echoing Rich’s earlier words.

Sliding on the condom, Rich said, “Yeah, I do.”
He then picked up Houston’s legs and put them back

in place. It was going to make Houston more bent than
a nun on crack, but Rich liked how he looked in that
position. Not only could he see Brat’s face but also
almost every bit of his tight body.

“Remember, I want it hard,” Houston ordered.
“I should make it slow and teasing, just to teach you

not to be bossy,” Rich warned.

The look of horror on Houston’s face was so

priceless that Rich laughed. He then gave Houston
exactly what he wanted. Lining up the tip of his cock,
Rich plunged in with one hard, quick, deep thrust.

When Houston cried out in pleasure and curled his

toes,  Rich  felt  a  heady  thrill.  Then  Houston  locked
gazes with Rich, the medic’s eyes so full of passion and
need that Rich forgot to  breathe. It was at that moment
that  Rich  realized  he’d  been  frigging  delusional.  He
hadn’t  been  the  one  in  charge—not  by  a  long  shot.
Houston,  brat  that  he  was,  had  all  but  crooked  his
finger, and Rich had played the ever-obedient lap dog.

It should have made him mad or at the very least

miffed. Instead, it made him want Houston all the more.
Letting out a groan, he grabbed Houston’s hips in a
punishing grip and began to pound into him.

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“Fuck, yeah!” Houston yelled.
Who knew the quiet medic was such a hellion in

bed? Talk about great things coming in small,
mysterious packages. Rich felt like he’d just won the
Publisher’s Clearinghouse and the Mega Millions Lotto
at the same time.

The sounds of the headboard slamming against the

wall filled the room. The handcuffs still continued to
make clanging sounds, adding a whole level of
eroticism to the whole situation.

“I’m going to come,” Houston warned.
Rich reached down to help him along, but Houston

was already shooting off, hot ropes of cum slashing on
his stomach and chest.

The fact that his partner had come untouched, and

the way Houston’s ass squeezed his cock, shoved Rich
over the edge. Yelling out Houston’s name, Rich threw
back his head and then filled the condom.

The orgasm seemed to last forever. Rich rode it out,

still giving an occasional thrust, which made both of
them shudder in pleasure. It wasn’t until Rich noticed
Houston wince that he finally pulled out.

Taking off the condom, Rich tied it off, then laid on

his side. Houston gave the cuffs a pointed look. “So, are
you going to take these off?”

“Maybe in a bit. I’m still not done playing with you,

yet.”

Houston grinned. “I like the sounds of that.”
So did Rich, which just showed how attached he

already was to Houston. Damn it, but it was going to
hurt to let the brat go.

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Chapter Four

ich lay on his side and watched Houston
sleeping—which must be nice, since Rich hadn’t

gotten  a  wink.  Then  he  reminded  himself  that  was
because  he  spent  the  last  few  hours  having  the  most
amazing  sex  of  his  life,  and  suddenly  he  didn’t  feel
tired at all.

The good thing about Houston being asleep, aside

from  the  fact  his  mouth  was  shut,  was  that  he  wasn’t
aware  of  how  sappy  Rich  was  being.  And  Rich  was
being  sappy  with  a  capital  S.  The  only  thing  missing
was  a  sketchpad  and  some  charcoal  pencils,  so  Rich
could make some broody, yet sexy, portrait.

Which would be really, really interesting since Rich

couldn’t draw worth a shit.

He reached out and ran a finger along Houston’s

side. His skin felt a bit cool to the touch, so Rich got up
and pulled a blanket out of the closet.

The early morning sun was creeping through the

window, so Rich had a good view as he came back over
to the bed. There were several finger shaped bruises on
Houston’s hips, ribs, and arms. Plus, there was an
impressive looking bite mark on Houston’s shoulder.

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While Rich hadn’t broken the skin, there was still a nice
purple contusion there.

After he tucked Houston in, Rich realized he was

running late. He knew he should probably wake Brat up
and  drive  him  back  to  his  car,  but  he  looked  so
comfortable.  Rich  didn’t  want  to  bother  him  after
Houston  had  been  so  damn  good  to  him  the  past  few
hours.  So,  he  decided  to  write  a  quick  note.  To  show
that he wasn’t a complete asshole, he also left behind a
fresh  shirt  and  some  money,  so  Houston  could  call  a
cab.

Rich dressed quickly and gathered up his work

things. The handcuffs were on the nightstand, and Rich
picked them up, so he could return them to Charlie. He
only hoped Charlie didn’t ask too many questions. Rich
had a sinking suspicion his work partner wasn’t going
to like the fact that he and Houston were only going to
be a one night deal. Charlie had a tendency to be
overprotective of his boyfriend’s twin.

Speaking of the devil, a text came through from

Charlie to let Rich know his partner was there. Since
they were going straight into the field instead of the
precinct, they’d decided to car pool.

After he gave Houston one last look of longing, Rich

rushed outside. It was cold and a bit rainy, like most
other days in Michigan. Rich shivered a bit as he picked
up speed. He made a mental note to stop and get some
coffee, both to keep his ass alert and so he could warm
up.

He got in, then did up his belt before he handed the

cuffs over to Charlie. Just as he feared, a smirk came
over his buddy’s face as he took them. “Do I even want

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to ask where you got these?”

“You damn well know where I got them, so just

stuff it,” Rich grumbled.

Charlie cocked a brow. “Wow, you’re grumpy this

morning.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t get any sleep last night.”
Shit! Piss! Damn! As soon as those words left his

yap, Rich wanted to suck them back in. Especially
when that I-know-what-you’ve-been-doing

smirk

popped back on Charlie’s mug.

“You know you shouldn’t smile like that. With your

blond hair and blue eyes, it makes you look like a
demented Ken doll. All that’s missing is the plastic,
big-boobed beard on your arm.”

“Really? This is the insult you’re going to use?”
“Come on, tell me you don’t think Ken is using

Barbie as a cover.”

“Don’t try to change the subject. I want to know

something. Did you have a certain somebody with you
that was keeping you awake?”

“If that’s your half-ass way of asking if I spent the

night with Houston, then yes.”

Charlie laughed. “I can’t believe it worked.”
Suspicion filled Rich. “And what exactly is that?”
“Haley knew you wouldn’t be able to resist coming

to Houston’s rescue.”

Oh, they did not! Rich did a mental inventory of

how many bullets he had on him, because from the
sounds of things, he had a slew of people to pay back.
“Are you trying to tell me that everything that happened
last night was a setup?”

Ever the bastard, Charlie grinned. “Yeah, the nurses

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thought it up and asked us to help set it up.”

What the hell! Since when did flash mob pranks

become a thing?

“Was Houston in on it, too?”
“No, in fact, I’m pretty sure he’s going to be ticked.”
It made Rich feel a little better to know that Houston

hadn’t been a part of the big RN led scheme.

“It doesn’t matter anyway. It was just a one-time

deal,” Rich bit out.

He put a hand to his chest, wondering why it hurt so

much to say that.

Charlie narrowed his eyes. “Was that your idea or

his?”

“Come on, Charlie. You know I’m not stable enough

for any kind of relationship. After what happened with
my family, I’m not fit to raise a plant, let alone be with
a person.”

“That was years ago. They would want you to get on

with your life.”

Rich thought back to Izzie. How her long brown hair

had always seemed to end up in her eyes. The way she
would blow it out of her face, two dimples appearing on
her cheeks as she smiled at him. The way she would run
in his room whenever there was a thunderstorm. Her
tiny body snuggling into him for comfort, because Rich
was her big brother, and he could protect her from
anything.

Except the biggest monster to walk on the earth. On

that night, Rich hadn’t been there. The time when Izzie
had needed him the most, too. He often wondered if she
cried out his name during the attack. If she resented him
for not being there to rescue her.

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“I thought you were doing better. You said the

therapy was helping,” Charlie said.

“I got a note from Grandma. They paroled him. Even

though he killed Izzie in cold blood, they are letting the
fucker out.”

Rich didn’t say that he also added his parents’ death

to the bastard’s list of crimes. For while he might not
have physically murdered them, the heartbreak he
caused had left them too broken to go on.

“Did you tell Houston any of this?” Charlie pressed.

“Or did you just give him a general brush off?”

“He was sleeping when I left, so I left him a note

saying I had to go to work,” Rich shrugged.

Charlie’s lips parted in shock. “That’s all you said in

the note?”

“Yeah, I also left him a clean shirt and some money

for a cab.”

“You left him cash?” Charlie’s outrage echoed

through the car.

Rich didn’t see what the big deal was. “He left his

car at the party. How else was he going to get home?”

Charlie let out a low whistle. “I pity you.”
“Why?”
“Because you have no idea what kind of shitstorm is

coming your way.”

“Houston isn’t going to make a big scene. He’s not

like Dakota.”

“Who said anything about Houston? It’s not him you

need to fear, but every medic, nurse, and doctor in Flint.
They all love Houston, and once they find out what you
did to him, you’re going to be toast.”

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* * * *

Houston stared down at the pile of money, tears
building up in his eyes.

How dare Rich treat him like he was some cheap

rent boy or something? Not only had he snuck out after
Houston had fallen asleep, which took considerable
talent since it had been Rich’s own damn place, but
he’d left behind a fuck-off letter and a pile of cash.

Houston balled up the letter and tossed it across the

room. Fuck Rich and his money, he could choke on
them as far as Houston was concerned. He could find
his own damn ride home.

Getting out his cell, he called Dakota.
“You dirty slut,” Dakota said by way of greeting.
While the comment might have sounded insulting,

the teasing lilt to his brother’s voice let Houston know
he wasn’t trying to be mean.

“I need…” Houston took a deep breath. He was not

going to cry, damn it. Rich didn’t deserve any angst. “I
need you to come pick me up.”

All the good humor fled Dakota’s tone. “What

happened?”

That was enough to set Houston off. Pacing, he

began to cry and try to tell the story at the same time.
“Handcuff…wouldn’t come off…I think I may have
been

sexually

harassed…Rich…took

home…key…this

place

pigsty…we

fucked…note… money…ditched me, like a cheap
whore on Monday!”

Dakota let out an outraged gasp. “You have got to be

kidding me? After rescuing you from a bunch of

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handsie nurses, Rich took you back to his place, fucked
you, and then snuck off in the morning without even an
see-ya-later-bitch?”

Nobody could fault Dakota’s skills at twin-jabber-

translation. Houston sniffed. “Yeah.”

“You wait right there. I’ll be right over.”
After they hung up, Houston finished getting

dressed, save for the shirt. There was no way in hell he
was letting anything of Rich’s touch him again.
Houston didn’t care if the temperature dropped to a
hundred below. He’d let his nuts freeze off before he so
much as touched that damn shirt.

Irritated, he started pacing. The pacing made him run

into boxes. Looking at the boxes led him to start putting
things away. He was on the third box before he realized
that he was actually playing housewife to some asshat.
Letting out a growl of frustration, Houston kicked a
box…one that still happened to be full.

Letting out a yelp of pain, he began to hop around on

one foot. Of course, that was the exact moment that
somebody had to knock on the door. Left with no other
option, Houston hopped over and answered it.

“I’m going to kill him,” Dakota growled as soon as

the door swung open.

Houston let out a sigh. “I’ll just settle for you taking

me home. I have to get ready for work, and I just want
to forget last night ever happened.”

Dakota froze, his gaze honing in on Houston’s bare

chest. “Where in the hell did you get all those bruises
and is that a bite mark on your neck?”

“Yeah, but I wanted them put there.”
Houston realized he left his shoes in the bedroom, he

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went to get them, Dakota trailing after him. “What do
you mean you wanted them?”

A heat came over Houston’s face. “I kind of like a

little bit of pain with sex.”

“And here I thought your only kink was

threesomes—or rather, being left out during a
threesome.”

“I should have never told you about that.”
Houston started to look around the piles of clothes

for his shoes.

“Damn, this guy really has commitment issues.”

Dakota kicked at a pile of clothes.

“Yeah, I kind of figured that out myself, thanks to

the note and pay-off money he left for me on the top of
his dresser.”

Houston found one shoe and began to look around

for its buddy.

“Well, that and the way he keeps this place, too.”
“What did I tell you about playing Dr. Phil?”
“That I wasn’t allowed to give the hookers free

therapy. Since Rich isn’t a lady of the night, I’m not
breaking your rule.”

“Did you just say lady of the night?” Houston looked

under the bed.

When he spotted his missing shoe, he let out a soft

whoop of delight.

“Yes, what’s wrong with that term?”
“Nothing, it’s just a bit old fashioned. Next you’ll be

declaring you have the vapors and that you need your
fainting couch.”

“Ha! Ha! What I’m trying to say is that Rich must be

pretty terrified of losing things, since he’s afraid to even

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become attached to a damn apartment.”

Houston stood up. “Are you actually trying to say

that the reason Rich is a slob is because he has a fear of
losing shit? Okay, I take back the Dr. Phil comment,
because you’re wandering into pure Hoarders territory
now.”

Dakota threw up his hands. “Fine, don’t believe me,

but I think I’m right.”

“No, you just don’t want to admit that your twin was

dumped, yet again.”

That hurt to admit, too, because it had become the

story of Houston’s life. His family didn’t want him, his
old friends despised him, so why should Rich be any
different?

Dakota came over and put his hands on Houston’s

shoulders. “Don’t say stuff like that about yourself.”

Pain sliced through Houston. Not wanting Dakota to

see how broken he really felt, Houston lowered his
gaze. “I sometimes wonder why you’ve put up with me
so long.”

“What would make you think that I wouldn’t? You

and Charlie are the two most important people in my
life.”

“If it hadn’t been for me, you would have had a

much easier life.”

“I would have been lonely and lost without you.”
“Face it, he always despised me, and he couldn’t

wait for an excuse to get rid of me. I just hate that you
got caught up in the fallout.”

A long pause settled over the room. Houston waited

for Dakota to make his usual denials and to tell Houston
how wonderful he was. That’s how the argument had

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always gone down in the past. So when Dakota popped
Houston on the back of the head, it was more than a
little bit shocking.

“Ouch! What was that for?” Houston demanded.
Anger burned in Dakota’s eyes. “I am sick of this

whole martyr thing you have going. Dad was an
asshole. I know that’s wrong to say since he’s dead, but
it’s true. It’s not your fault that he was too stupid to see
how great you are. But it will be your fault if you
continue to let him affect your life.”

Rage burned through Houston as he stepped back

and squared against his twin. Houston’s mind worked
on overtime as he thought about the best insults he
could throw back at his twin. But try as he might, only
one thought came to him, Oh, my god. Dakota is right.

“Shit,” Houston growled. “I hate it when you win an

argument.”

Dakota beamed at him. “Not me. In fact, I’m going

to mark this down in my memory book. It’s not every
day that I get the best of my super smart brother.

“That is so sweet,” Houston said, touched. Then he

recalled something. “Wait! You don’t even have a
memory book.”

Dakota gave a dismissive wave. “Details! Details!

You know what I meant.”

“Yeah, I do.”
Stepping forward, Houston gave his twin a hug. At

least  he  had  Dakota.  If  he  saw  promise  in  Houston,
maybe  that  meant  that  the  rest  of  the  world  would
someday catch up.

Stephani Hecht

Chapter Five

ven before they went to St. Michael’s and Rich met
the sea of angry glares, he knew he was the most

hated man in Flint. If the rush of blistering texts hadn’t
been enough to clue him in, there had been the scalding
calls he received from most of the RNs. Usually Rich
could hold his own in an argument, but even he
eventually let the calls go to voicemail.

To make matters worse, Charlie thought the whole

situation was funny! His partner even had the balls to
pull out a pad of paper and start keeping track of all the
hate coming Rich’s way.

As they were approaching the doors leading to the

ER, Rich felt as if he were walking to his own damn
execution. A sweat broke out over his body, and his
heart raced.

Shit, he hadn’t been so afraid in his entire career as a

cop, and since he worked in Flint, he’d seen some crazy
scary things. But all the criminals in Flint combined
didn’t have one iota of terror when compared to one
small, medic with doe eyes and a sweet smile.

It would have been different had Rich been able to

be indignant about the whole thing, but even he realized

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what an ass he’d been. He’d even tried to send Houston
a couple texts, to which he received a total of one reply,
Fuck off! I’m sick of being treated like Jan, when I’m
really a Marsha! Marsha! Marsha!

Rich hadn’t even known what that meant, let alone

been able to figure out a savvy reply besides a meek
LOL?

The silence after that message had been pretty

telling.

As soon as they passed through the sliding doors,

Haley glared at him. “What are you doing here? You
big, fat, jerk!”

“Love you, too, Hales,” Rich drawled.
He got the hand. “Whatever! Charlie, since I’m not

talking to Rich, maybe you can tell me what you’re
doing here.”

Charlie smirked. “There was a gunshot victim

brought in about an hour ago?”

“He’s in Trauma Bay 2,” she replied, then after

giving Rich one last scathing look she walked away.

“It really, really sucks to be you right now,” Charlie

laughed.

“Yeah, story of my life.”
As they walked toward the room, Rich’s heart

dropped  when  he  saw  Houston  and  his  work  partner,
Ryder.  A  shy  blond  who  never  said  more  than  two
words, Ryder was the first one who saw him. Even the
introverted  kid  still  shot  Rich  a  dirty  look.  Ryder  then
elbowed Houston and whispered something.

Oh! So now Ryder decides to get all chatty. Nothing

like some shared anger to bring out the social butterfly
in everyone. Rich was half-tempted to ask if they’d

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already formed a hate club in his honor and if so, how
much membership dues were.

“Go to pharmacy and get the drug box stocked, and

I’ll clean the rig,” Houston told Ryder.

The blond nodded, then left, but not before giving

Rich one last scathing look.

“Ouch! I’ve never seen Ryder get upset over

anything,” Charlie mused.

“Thanks for the support,” Rich shot back.
“Why don’t I go interview the victim while you try a

bit of groveling?”

“Who said anything about groveling?”
Even as he asked that, Rich was fighting the urge to

run over to Houston. It would have been one thing had
the  medic  come  over  and  yelled  at  Rich,  but  what
Houston did was ten times…no, a million times worse.
Houston let out a soft sigh, then nibbled on his bottom
lip—the  way  he  always  did  whenever  he  was  sad,
angry,  or  hurt.  Then  Houston  turned  and  all  but  ran
outside.

“Shit,” Rich breathed.
He didn’t stop to think twice before he gave chase. A

couple  people  shouted out  his  name  as  he  passed…no
doubt screaming  for  his  execution.  Rich  ignored them,
intent  only  on  finding  Houston  so  they  could  smooth
things out.

As Rich ran out, he saw the back doors to the

ambulance  open,  but  no  Houston.  Undaunted,  Rich
went  around  and  saw  Houston  leaning  against  the
passenger  side.  The  medic’s  face  was  down,  but  Rich
could still see the hurt etched on the brat’s face.

It tugged on Rich to know that he was the asshole

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who’d  done  the  hurting.  Somebody  as  sweet  and
innocent—well,  as  innocent  as  a  left-out  threesome
participant  could  be—as  such  Houston  should  only  be
smiling or laughing. He sure as hell shouldn’t look like
somebody had ripped his heart out and pissed on it.

“Did you come out here to rub lemon juice into my

wounds?” Houston asked.

Rich started, shocked that Houston knew he was

there. “I didn’t mean to make you so upset.”

Houston let out a bitter laugh. “Don’t worry. The

plain doormat got the message and he won’t make the
mistake of thinking that you actually give a damn
again.”

“Shit, Houston. That’s not what I meant. You’re a

great guy, and if I could, I would—”

Houston turned on him. “Do not give me the it’s-

not-you-it’s-me speech. At least let me have some
fucking dignity.”

“I never meant to hurt you.”
“You left me a fuck-off note, an old shirt, and some

frigging money,” Houston nearly shouted. “You know
people have made me feel rotten over my past, but until
you, nobody made me feel like a used-up, unwanted,
second-rate whore.”

Self-loathing filled Rich as he fully realized just how

much  he’d  managed  to  fuck  everything  up.  Shit!  Shit!
Shit! Why hadn’t he realized how just leaving behind a
crap  letter  and  some  money  would  look?  Oh,  yeah!
That’s  right,  because  he  was  a  dumbass.  He  didn’t
know  what  felt  worse,  the  knowledge  that  all  the  hate
texts had been right or that he’d actually been so stupid.

“I don’t think that about you. I swear. I just freaked

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out this morning,” Rich explained.

Houston gave a slow nod. “So, you’re saying you

freaked out when you woke up next to me is supposed
to make me feel better how?”

Rich ran a hand through his hair. “Damn it, I’m

really fucking this up.”

“Yeah, you really are.”
Before Rich could counter that quick, blistering

comeback, Ryder came rushing out. “We have a call.”

Houston flashed Rich a fake smile. “Sorry, the

freaky whore has to go.”

“Houston, damn it. You know that’s not what I

meant.”

But Rich was only speaking to air because Houston

had jumped into the rig and they were already pulling
out. Rich could only stand there like some sap as he
watched the ambulance disappear.

“Hey, we have to go,” Charlie yelled as he came out.
“Yeah, that’s happening a lot around here,” Rich

groused as he waved at the empty parking spot.

Charlie arched a brow, but didn’t bite on that one.
“What’s up?” Rich asked.
“Teddy’s daughter was just in a car accident.”
Fuuuuuuuuck! Things had just gone from worse to

FUBAR. Besides  having the  most ridiculous nickname
in  criminal  history,  the  man  had  a  record  a  mile  long
and was behind most of the shady dealings in Flint. He
also happened to dote on his only daughter.

“Guess who just went on a call?” Rich said as they

approached the car.

“Houston? Are you sure it’s this accident?”
“Yeah, because karma just loves to kick me in the

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nuts.”

They got in and turned on the siren. All the way

there, Rich kept replaying the conversation he had with
Houston  back  in  his  head.  He  still  couldn’t  figure  out
how  he’d  gone  out  there  to  apologize  and  only  made
things  worse.  Rich  felt  like  he  couldn’t  catch  a  damn
clue or a break.

The only thing he did know for sure was that he

hated that Houston was so hurt. So much so, that Rich
was about to fund the Rich Hate Club himself.

As they approached the scene, Rich could tell that it

wasn’t  too  bad.  While  the  car  might  have  flipped,
Rich’s  trained  eye  could  tell  by  the  unhurried  way  the
EMS  crew  moved  around  that  nobody  was  in  mortal
danger.

As they got out, he scanned the area, looking for

Houston.  When  Rich  spotted  only  Ryder  standing  by
the  car  accident  victim  who  was  strapped  to  a  cot,  his
stomach  dropped.  Running  over  he  demanded,
“Where’s Houston?”

The patient, a teenage girl, gave him a coy smile.

“Why, hello, Rich. It’s been ages.”

Ryder gave her a confused look. “You know him?”
“Oh, yeah. He’s really close to my daddy.”
One time Charlie had called the girl the Flint version

on Cher from the movie Clueless. Not only did she
share the same name as the movie character, but they
could have almost passed as twins. The only difference
was this girl in front of him was the daughter of one of
the most dangerous men in the state of Michigan.

“Be good, Cher,” Rich replied.
“Are you the one who broke Houston’s heart?” Cher

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demanded.

Rich shot Ryder an are-you-kidding-me glare. “How

in the hell does all of Flint know about my personal
life? Did you guys take out a Facebook ad or
something?”

“It was a Google banner ad, actually. We thought we

could get a more diverse audience that way,” Ryder
replied back dryly.

“Never mind. Just tell me where Houston is.”
“He went to get Muggles,” Cher replied.
“Who is Muggles?”
“My dog. He was trapped in the car, and Houston

promised to rescue him.”

Horror filled Rich because he had no doubt in his

mind that Houston would do something that heroically
stupid. When he looked over at the wrecked car and
saw a pair of feet sticking out of one of the rear
windows, Rich’s suspicions were proven.

A small group of firefighters were standing by and

they didn’t look happy about the situation, either. That
was until they spotted Rich. They all gave him glares to
show that they’d spotted the Google ad, too.

“The whole world hates me,” he muttered.
“Yup,” Cher replied cheerfully.
Just as Rich was about to go over and drag Houston

out, the brat scooted out on his own. When he stood, his
face was smudged with dirt, but he looked otherwise
okay. In his arms, he held the world’s ugliest dog.

“What in the hell is that thing?” he asked.
“Be nice to Muggles. She’s very sensitive about her

looks,” Cher snapped.

“I would be, too, if I looked like that.”

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“You are such a jerk. And not just for trying to put

my daddy in jail.”

“Has anybody told you that you have a way with

words?” Rich asked sarcastically.

She rolled her eyes. “Ha! I was just about to ask you

the same thing.”

Houston came over and handed the dog, if a hairless

rat could even be called that, to Cher. The girl
immediately began to make cooing noises at the
hideous thing.

“Okay, now can we go to the hospital?” Houston

asked.

It hadn’t escaped Rich’s attention that Houston was

refusing to so much as a glance in Rich’s direction. The
very public rejection both stung like hell and pissed
Rich off.

Then just when Rich thought things couldn’t get

worse…they did. After they loaded Cher into the rig,
her huge massive bodyguard tried to climb into the
back of the rig only to get the stiff-arm from Houston.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Houston

demanded.

“With Cher,” the guard growled.
“Are you related to her?”
“No?”
“Then you can go sit in the front passenger seat.”
The guard glared at Houston. “My job is to protect

her.”

“Which you can do from the front.”
Rich and Charlie exchanged looks of horror. Nobody

talked to Teddy’s goons that way. Not if they wanted to
live.

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“He doesn’t know about Teddy,” Rich called to the

guard in a desperate attempt to smooth things out.

A cold sweat broke out over his body at the mere

thought of Houston being harmed. A sweet brat like
that wouldn’t stand a chance against scum like Teddy

Houston wrinkled his nose at Cher. “Is that really

your dad’s name? It makes me want to ask where his
bear is?”

“Ah, fuck,” Rich breathed, as horror clawed at his

chest.

It was no secret that Teddy was very sensitive when

it  came  to  his  name.  Rich  wished  more  than  ever  that
they had enough to finally collar the criminal. That way
he  wouldn’t  be  able  to  hand  Houston  his  ass.  Rich
wondered  if  maybe  they  had  a  witness  relocation  deal
for these kinds of situations.

“Ton, get in the front and stop holding us up,” Cher

huffed. “Muggles is very upset and wants to leave.”

The guard nodded and got in the front. That still

wasn’t good enough for Rich. He wanted more than a
teen diva protecting his brat.

“You’re going to insist on going along, too, aren’t

you,” Charlie said.

“You bet your sweet ass I am,” Rich went to the rear

doors. When Houston looked like he was going to balk,
Rich shook his head. “Sorry, police business takes
precedence.”

Houston didn’t look like he bought that for one

moment, but he didn’t have a choice, and they both
knew it.

“Fine, just make sure you stay the hell out of my

way,” Houston snapped before he went over to gather

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up his medic bag.

Rich got in the back and took a seat across from

Cher. She had been yapping in baby talk to her dog, but
as soon as she spotted Rich, her smiled morphed into a
glare.

“You better not hurt him again,” Cher snapped.
Rich bristled. After the shitty day he’d had, he’d be

damned if he let some teen tart order him around.
“What will you do about it? Post a mean FaceBook
message about me?”

Cher gave a smile that was so cold, so calculating, so

mean that she looked every bit her father’s daughter.
“No, worse. I’ll tell Daddy about it, and he’ll make you
cry. And then he’ll make you die.”

“Did you just threaten me?” Rich demanded.
She gave a shrug. “Yup, I sure did. Nobody hurts my

BFF and gets away with it.”

“You just met him, so how can you guys be best

friends.”

She gave another shrug. “He just is, and I won’t let

you hurt him again.”

Staring at the girl, Rich realized two things. The first

being that criminal masterminds could still have bratty
kids. Two, that she had a point. He’d hurt Houston
badly, and he had a hell of a lot of groveling to do.

The big shocker was how much it terrified him that

Houston  might  not  forgive  him.  Wanted  or  not,  Rich
had  strong  feelings  for  his  brat. So  much so, that  Rich
was finally ready to risk being vulnerable to hurt again.

He only hoped he hadn’t fucked things up too bad.

Stephani Hecht

Chapter Six

ouston snuggled deeper into his chair as he stared
at the huge bonfire.

He should have never let Dakota talk him into

coming to this dumb party. Not only was it colder than
hell, but Houston just wanted to be home and alone, so
he could lick his wounds in peace.

Worse of all, since there were no secrets in the EMS

world, everybody there knew all about Houston’s
humiliating experience. While they were all nice and
sympathetic about it, every time somebody came up to
hug him, it only reminded him of all the painful details.
Which made him feel worse, not better.

They wouldn’t let him drink himself into oblivion,

either—even after he’d pointed out that it wouldn’t cost
much since he was such a lightweight. They’d all said
that he needed to work through his issues, not drink
them away.

Killjoys! And they were supposed to be his friends?
He pulled the blanket up to his chin as he continued

to stare into the flames. All around him, the rest of the
party goers were talking, laughing, and having a good
time. Meanwhile, Houston felt like he was dying inside.

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Okay, maybe that was a bit dramatic, but he was

Dakota’s brother, after all. So Houston figured he was
due some drama of his own for once. Although, he
would have liked it to be a bit more private.

Dakota flopped into the seat next to him. His twin’s

face was flushed, and the buttons on his top were all
messed up, letting Houston know that he and Charlie
hadn’t snuck off into the woods to do some stargazing.

Just looking at the happy, dopey expression on

Dakota’s face felt like a blade to Houston’s chest.
Unable to stand all the happily-ever-after coming off
his twin, Houston looked back at the fire.

“How are you doing?” Dakota pressed.
Terrible. Awful. Sucky. Since Houston already felt

like a jerk for being jealous of Dakota, he didn’t want to
add to his sins by making the guy upset. After all,
Dakota loved Houston and was only trying to look out
for him.

“Fine,” Houston fibbed.
“You were always the worst liar,” Dakota chided.
Houston sighed. “I’m trying. It’s just hard.”
Dakota reached over and brushed a lock of hair from

Houston’s face. “I know it is, sweetie.”

“Why can’t I ever be enough for people?” Houston

rasped.

“You are. They’re just too stupid and blind to see it.”
“I thought he would be different.”
“I know. I did, too.” Dakota opened his mouth to say

something else, but let out a gasp instead. “What the
fuck?”

Dakota’s eyes grew dark with rage. He even let out a

low curse as he balled his hands into fists. “I’ll kick his

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ass myself.”

Since his brother hated violence, that comment

stunned Houston. “Who?”

Before Dakota could answer, Houston spotted Rich

coming their way. All the air left Houston’s lungs as he
struggled to keep his face clear of emotions. The last
thing he wanted to do was to let Rich know how much
his cold rejection had hurt.

Even so, Houston couldn’t help but notice how hot

the guy looked. He wore a pair of dark jeans that looked
molded to his body and a dark blue Flint PD shirt. He
held a white envelope in his hand.

“What’s that?” Dakota asked.
Houston snorted. “Probably a restraining order. He

must think the loser is going to stalk him or
something.”

“He better hope not, for his sake. If it is one, then

I’m going to shove it up his ass.”

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s quite how restraining

orders work.”

“Since when have I cared about rules?”
Houston was saved from answering when Rich

walked up to them. On closer inspection, Houston noted
how haggard Rich appeared. His eyes were bloodshot,
and his gaze could only be described as bleak. Despite
himself, Houston felt a tinge of sympathy for the cop.

“Can I talk to you for a second?” Rich asked.
When Dakota opened his mouth to fire off a scathing

comment,  Houston  put  a  hand  out  to  stay  his  brother.
Swallowing  hard  and  trying  his  best  to  keep  his  face
expressionless,  Houston  said,  “I  don’t  know  if  that
would be such a good idea.”

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Rich gave him a beseeching look. “Please? I know I

don’t  deserve  it.  Believe  me,  I  do.  I  know  that  you
probably  won’t  forgive  me,  and  that’s  okay  because  I
realize that I don’t deserve that, either. I just wanted to
make  sure  that  you  knew  a  few  things  before  you  got
back to not talking to me forever.”

Damn, Houston wanted to say, no. His wounded

pride screamed for some payback. But as he glanced
back up at Rich’s imploring expression, Houston caved.
“Fine, you have five minutes.”

A small grin came over Rich’s face. “Thank you.”
Rich held out a hand, and Houston only hesitated a

moment before taking it. Rich helped him to his feet,
then led him into a nearby cluster of trees. The noise
from the party was somewhat muffled there, and it gave
them some semblance of privacy.

Houston pulled his hand free and wrapped his arms

around his stomach. “What did you want?”

“I was wondering if you’d start by reading this?”

Rich held out the envelope.

“If it’s another one of your letters, then I’ll pass.”
“Please? I promise it’s not long, and I didn’t write

this one.”

Despite his better judgment, Houston reached out

and snagged it. He opened it, finding a thin piece of
paper. As he unfolded it, he got the faint whiff of
magnolias. It was darker by the trees, so Houston had to
pull his phone out and use the flashlight App to read it.
Rich was right, it was short,

They let the bastard out. Izzie is still dead, yet he’s

free to walk the streets.

-Grandma

Stephani Hecht

A feeling of dread and horror filled Houston as those

two sentences hit him hard. While he didn’t know the
whole story, yet, those few words were telling, and the
message wasn’t good.

“Who’s Izzie?” he asked.
“She was my younger sister,” Rich’s voice cracked a

bit.

“What happened to her?”
Houston normally wouldn’t have pushed like that,

but he knew that was the reason Rich had dragged him
to the trees in the first place.

“She was murdered,” Rich took a deep breath. “Or

maybe the better way to put it would be is that some
animal butchered her.”

Houston’s heart broke as he watched his strong cop

crumble a bit. Unable to stand by and watch him suffer,
Houston went over and wrapped his arms around Rich.
“It’s okay. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t
want.”

Rich returned the embrace. “No, I want you to know

everything. Then maybe you’ll understand why I’ve
been such a huge jerk.”

“Okay, but take your time. I’m not going anywhere.”
“The man who killed her was her husband. She was

really too young to get married in the first place, but she
thought she was in love and bugged my parents until
they gave their permission. At first, she seemed really
happy. Then, after a few months, she barely came home
to visit anymore. The few times she did show up, there
were always bruises or some kind of other injury.”

“Let me guess, she told you they were all

accidental,” Houston surmised.

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It was the same excuse EMS workers heard a million

times over from battered wives. It both frustrated and
angered Houston because he always wanted to do so
much more for the abused spouse.

“Yeah, and then one day she stopped coming home

at all. A month later, the police showed up at our door.
As soon as I saw them, I knew. Mom did, too. She
screamed, then dropped to the ground. I still can hear
her sobs to this day.”

Houston didn’t say anything. He just stroked Rich’s

back in an effort to offer a scrap of comfort.

Rich continued, “They said my sister and her

husband got into a fight, and he lost it. He stabbed her
so many times that it took them a while to make a
positive identification. They even had to hire a
specialized cleaning crew to come in after and get up all
the blood.”

Outraged filled Houston. “And they let him out,

even after he did all that?”

“Yeah, and he managed to do more, even while he

was in prison. While he may not have stabbed Mom or
Dad, he’s just as responsible for their deaths. My
parents never got over Izzie’s death. Dad drank himself
to death, while Mom just stopped caring. Since she had
diabetes, it didn’t take her long to pass, either.”

Houston reached up and cupped Rich’s face.

“You’ve been all alone ever since, haven’t you?”

Rich shrugged. “I have Grandma, but it’s not the

same.”

There was a long pause while Houston thought that

one through. “Oh, my god, Dakota was right. You’re
afraid of getting too attached to anything. That’s why

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your apartment looks like a mess.”

Rich rolled his eyes. “It’s just boxes!”
Houston just cocked a brow and waited him out.

After a moment, Rich let out a sigh. “Okay, he’s right. I
am afraid to get too attached or close. I don’t want to be
hurt again when I lose something important. And that
plan was going perfectly until a certain brat popped into
my life and ruined my perfectly good plans.”

Taking on a fake old man’s voice, Houston quoted,

“And I would have gotten away with it, too, if not for
your meddling kids.”

The corners of Rich’s lips kicked into a smile. “Are

you daring to use Scooby philosophy against me?
That’s pretty dangerous since I’ve seen each episode
dozens of times.”

“Wow, looks like I’m not the only nerd. You’re just

exposing all your secrets,” Houston teased. Growing
serious again, he said, “It hurt when you pushed me
away like that.”

“I know, and I hate myself for doing that to you. I

know that your family thrust you away like yesterday’s
trash,  and  I  went  and  made  you  feel  the  same  way.”
Rich  ran  the  pad  of  his  thumb  over  the  bite  mark  on
Houston’s  neck.  “I  swear  that  from  now  on,  I’ll  only
make you feel the right kind of pain.”

Those words sent a shiver of desire through

Houston. “Oh, I like the sound of that.”

“Does that mean I’m forgiven?” Rich asked,

hopefully.

Houston went on tiptoe and pressed their lips

together. “How can I stay mad at a fellow geek? Just
promise to spend next Saturday watching all the

Tagged And Bagged

Underworld movies with me and we’ll call it even.”

“Brat, I plan on spending a whole life-time of

Saturdays with you.”

Houston ginned. “I like the sounds of that plan.”

Six months later

Houston put away the last of the groceries, then

stood back to glance over their apartment. A heady
thrill came over him to see the once messy and unloved
place look so homey and pretty. Better yet, it was
something that he and Rich had done together.

All the boxes were gone, and the rooms were now

full of nice furniture. While there was still a card table
in the kitchen, it was only because they were hosting
the weekly card game that night. After that, it would be
tucked away in the closet.

The walls were decorated with pictures and posters,

the biggest one being a portrait of Izzie. She was above
the fireplace, so she looked out over the whole
apartment. As silly as it sounded, it gave Houston
comfort to know that she was watching out for them.

The front door opened, and Rich came walking in.

His arms were full of pizza boxes, and he had a small
gift bag looped around his wrist.

“Here, let me help,” Houston rushed forward and

took some of the boxes.

“The place looks great,” Rich said.
“Thanks, I was going to light some candles, but I

decided that not even we’re that gay,” Houston teased.

“I bought you a present,” Rich held up the bag.
Houston grinned. Rich loved to give presents, which

Stephani Hecht

worked out perfectly since Houston loved receiving
them. Taking the bag, Houston reached in and pulled
out a pair of handcuffs.

They felt heavy and the chain and cuffs gleamed

brightly. Even without seeing the receipt, Houston
knew they’d cost a lot.

“They’re beautiful,” he breathed.
“Read the inscription.”
Looking closer, Houston saw their names followed

by a date.

“It’s when I realized that I love you,” Rich

confessed.

Houston’s heart raced. While they’d been together

for half a year, this was the first time either of them had
dropped the l word.

“But the date is when Haley had her party,” Houston

replied.

Rich came over and wrapped his arms around

Houston’s waist. “You were so cute and lost that my
heart melted on the spot. I was just too stupid to realize
it at the time.”

Joy soared through Houston. “That’s okay, you

weren’t the only lunkhead. I’m pretty certain that’s
when I fell in love with you, too.”

Houston held up the cuffs and they shared a laugh.
“Who knew that a simple pair of handcuffs would

bring us together and make us so happy,” Houston
mused.

“Are you really, truly happy?” Rich asked.
Houston didn’t even have to think that one over. “I

never realized that life could be so good.”

He tilted his head back. Rich got the hint and

About the Author

Stephani  Hecht  is  a  happily  married  mother  of  two.
Born and raised in Michigan, she loves all things about
the  state,  from  the  frigid  winters  to  the  Detroit  Red
Wings hockey team. You can usually find her snuggled
up to her laptop, creating her next book.

Contact her at:
Email Address:archangelwriter@yahoo.com

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http://twitter.com/StephaniHecht

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http://stephanihechtauthor.blogspot.com