Right when he was about to give up pretending he might sleep and go hammer out some exercises, his phone buzzed.
I ate. Soup from a can. You can lecture me about it later. And yeah, tanked up on the fluids.
Linc seized the opening like a kid trying to catch butterflies, dashing off a fast and probably pointless reply, but he couldn’t not send anything.
Good. Maybe if we don’t have a callout tomorrow, I can make you that chicken you liked last time?
The wait for a return message felt like decades, but was actually gratifyingly quick. The one with rosemary?
Smiling for the first time in hours, Linc typed faster. That one. Got some potatoes to use up too.
Guess we can’t have them go to waste. Jacob’s reply buzzed a few moments later, not exactly enthusiastic but as close to a yes as Linc was likely to get.
Nope. Dogs will be happy to see you. His chest hummed, an almost electric sensation, a giddiness at knowing he hadn’t fucked things up with Jacob beyond repair. Even if the sane thing would be to let it end here, he simply wasn’t ready.
Just the dogs? Jacob added a head-scratching emoji. And Linc almost had to literally scratch his, trying to figure out how to answer. He didn’t want to be desperate or needy, but damn, he did miss Jacob, and couldn’t lie.
Not just the dogs.
Jacob sent him another emoji in response, this one sleeping. Just checking. Get some sleep.
And finally feeling settled for the first time all damn day, Linc was able to follow orders, falling asleep to thoughts of cooking for Jacob sometime soon, making things right the best he could. But the next day, on the drive to the air base, the doubts returned. Were they back to normal? Was Jacob still pissed? How the hell was he supposed to both keep Jacob safe and give him the respect he demanded?
Still deep in thought, he almost bumped into Garrick on the way into the headquarters building.
“Sorry.”
“No problem. The rook still pissed?”
“Not sure.” Linc had to work hard to keep the defensiveness from his voice. And no way was he sharing the late-night text exchange as proof of Jacob’s mood.
“Well, he’ll just have to get used to us caring.” Garrick clapped him on the shoulder.
“Yeah,” Linc said, but his mouth twisted. He wasn’t sure which way to feel about being lumped in with Garrick. Because he did care, too damn much, but it sure wasn’t the same as whatever casual meaning Garrick was giving the word. Garrick cared about everything—his elderly neighbor, the people they worked with, his friends—but nothing terribly deeply. Nothing in common with this soul-deep ache Linc got at the mere mention of Jacob’s name.
“Speaking of rookies...” Garrick steered Linc into an empty hallway that led to the offices. They were both a few minutes early for the morning meeting. “Have you heard the latest? Apparently, it’s a-okay to hook up with crew members now.”
“What?” Linc legit sputtered the word, and his knees wobbled. What the fuck had Garrick heard? Who had talked? Or worse seen? His mind raced, trying to think of a response that might do some damage control.
“I take it that’s a no.” Garrick laughed. Fucking laughed. Like this was no big deal. “Apparently, McKenna and Kelley have been hooking up on the sly. And so since apparently that’s the thing to do—”
“What?” This time Linc had to blink. This wasn’t about him and Jacob? Just idle gossip?
“Yeah. That was pretty much my reaction too. But they must have hooked up the night of Jacob’s birthday party. And kept going. Anyway that’s not what I wanted to talk about.”
“It’s not?” Damn. His pulse sped up.
“No. I’ve been thinking... If Sims and Alder let McKenna and Kelley get away with it, maybe I might see what the rook is up for. After the season of course. Because I’m not looking for that much trouble.”
“You want to do what?” Linc swallowed hard. Garrick wanted to date Jacob?
“Life is short. He’s out. And it’s been less of an issue than I would have predicted. Doesn’t hurt that he’s damn good at the job. Even if he is stubborn.”
“And that makes you want to hook up? With him?”
“You don’t have to look so shocked. You know I’m pan. He’s hot. Which you can’t claim not to know. Which brings me back around to why I’m even having this conversation with you. Wanted to make sure I’m not encroaching on any...plans you might have in that area.”
“I don’t have plans,” Linc said reflexively as his mind spun. Since when was Jacob being hot the answer to Garrick’s boredom or whatever the hell this was? His fist tightened, gut roiling at the notion of Jacob as a convenient good time.
“Great. I mean, you guys have been dancing around each other for years. I can’t be the only one who’s noticed that. And you can’t tell me you’re blind to it yourself. But lately you guys seem more like friends.”
A strangled laugh escaped Linc’s mouth. Friends. He might not have plans, but he for damn sure knew they weren’t friends.
“Oh, fuck. Are you guys...?” Garrick’s eyes went wide.
“No.” The harsh denial was out even before Garrick finished the question. His already agitated stomach burned now, a caustic pit of guilt and shame. This was Garrick, whom he’d known for years now, almost as long as Wyatt, and had trusted him with his life more than a few times. If anyone deserved his truth, it was Garrick. But he couldn’t confess. Not now. And truth was, he’d be gone come fall. If Garrick and Jacob wanted to hook up... God, he couldn’t even form the thought without bile rising in his throat.
“Well, okay then.” Garrick’s head tilted, expression saying he didn’t quite believe Linc. “So okay if I sniff around?”
“I—”
“Sims wants to see us.”
He whirled around, and oh, holy fuck. Jacob was right there behind Linc. And judging by his winter-storm eyes and pursed mouth, he’d clearly heard more than he should.
“Jacob—” He reached for his arm but Jacob shook him off.
“Save it. We’ve got a job to do.” Jacob pushed by both of them, disgust rolling off him in toxic waves that almost choked Linc.
“Well, now. This is a mess.” Garrick shook his head, but before Linc could speak, Sims called down the hall at all three of them.
Probably just as well. He didn’t know how he’d planned to try to explain something he had no good answers for, what he could say to Garrick that might correct whatever conclusions he’d jumped to. And fuck, what a mess was right. Honestly, though, he was less concerned about Garrick and more about catching Jacob, trying...