Public Enemy, Undercover Lover Page 5

  “We…dated,” Isaac sputtered—and what the hell was he thinking?! “Briefly.”

  ‘WHAT?’ Andrew mouthed in disbelief, but he must not have been able to think of a better answer either, because he screwed his face into embarrassed shock for Dalton’s sake and said, “Yeah! Very briefly. Boy, that must sound super weird since he’s your dad.”

  “Not…weird,” Dalton said, glancing stoically between them. He had Isaac’s knack for hiding his emotions unless he wanted others to know them. “I mean, we’re all adults. You’re a good guy, Andrew, and Dad’s—”

  “A criminal,” Andrew blurted, unable to keep his floundering word-vomit under control any better than Isaac had. “That’s why we broke up! Detective, thief…you know…”

  “Conflict of interest,” Isaac saved him.

  “Exactly!”

  “Sure.” Dalton nodded as if that made perfect sense, which it did, but that didn’t alleviate any of the awkwardness.

  Andrew had deflated several inches, and when the silence stretched on for too long, he stammered, “Sorry, I’m still processing…this.” He gestured vaguely between them but turned soft and sympathetic when he looked at Dalton. “I remember how much you wanted to find your dad but didn’t know who he was.”

  “Mom finally told me. Before she died.”

  “Oh, I…I’m so sorry. I hadn’t heard.”

  “I’ve had time to adjust. It’s tough, you know all too well, but I’m okay. A while after she passed, around Christmas, I found Dad, and we’ve been getting to know each other ever since.”

  “Christmas?” Andrew snapped to Isaac.

  “After the breakout.”

  “The same night!?”

  “It was a very full evening for me.”

  Andrew’s blush might have given them away then, but the situation already called for embarrassment.

  “So, you two dated before Dad went to prison?” Dalton asked.

  “Yeah…” Andrew said slowly, looking to Isaac for corroboration, but he had no idea what to add.

  “And now you’re competitors?”

  Shit. Why hadn’t Isaac used that excuse for why they knew each other?

  “Dad…” Dalton frowned at him.

  “It wasn’t an intentional slight.”

  “Could have fooled me,” Andrew muttered.

  “I told you. What else would I be good at?”

  The silence stretched again, but like before, Andrew was the first to cave.

  “I should go. This is weird. You’re trying to have personal…father-son time,” he said like he’d smelled something rancid from the kitchen.

  “But we both have reason to catch up with you,” Dalton said. “Do you want to join us?”

  “I don’t know if—”

  “Dalton—”

  “Come on, please? I don’t want to miss the chance to catch up with either of you.” He slid into the booth, seated across from Isaac, and patted the space beside him. “Unless it’s really so terrible being around each other?”

  “Not…terrible,” Andrew said.

  “Oh no?” Isaac raised an eyebrow at him, remembering those same words spoken last night for very different reasons.

  “You have your moments.”

  “Great!” Dalton patted the seat again. “Then you can sit.”

  Andrew did so, but with the next awkward span of silence readily on deck, he spoke up quickly. “So, Dalton, what are you up to? Did you get that job at Avalon?”

  “I did! Working directly with Doctor Vallancourt. She’s incredible.”

  “That’s great. I’ve met her a few times now. Avalon had some break-ins when I was a detective.”

  “Really? So, you know my boss, and you dated my dad? Good thing we never slept together, or this would be a real mess.” He snickered, and Andrew’s face turned green, while Isaac felt bile in his stomach. “Relax! Seriously, Dad, we both had boyfriends when Andrew tutored me.”

  Thank God.

  Wait…

  “Boyfriends?” Isaac questioned

  “I’ve had boyfriends,” Andrew said, and then remembered the lie Isaac had neglected like an amateur. “Before you.”

  “How did you two meet anyway?” Dalton asked.

  “Series of chance encounters,” Isaac said.

  “More like obvious flirting disguised as playful banter,” Andrew murmured.

  “Obvious? And here I thought you were oblivious.”

  “Just because I didn’t give in doesn’t mean I didn’t know what you were doing.”

  “But you did give in eventually,” Dalton interrupted, “so what changed?”

  He finally broke up with his girlfriend.

  “Um, well…Ford always puts on this persona,” Andrew said. “All suave with smooth drawls like nothing can shake him. I was curious if anything could. He never drops his mask around me though. Makes me wonder what the real Isaac Ford might be like.”

  “Exactly the same,” Isaac affirmed.

  “Bullshit,” Dalton said. “He only talks big and lofty like that when he’s putting on a show. He’s a huge dork deep down. He likes jazz and sci-fi movies—”

  “Dalton—”

  “—and has this crazy old comic he keeps under glass. The Shadow?”

  “You like The Shadow?” Andrew brightened. “I used to listen to the radio show when I was a kid!”

  Of course, he had, but as much as Isaac enjoyed seeing this boyish excitement in Andrew, that didn’t change the current disaster.

  He couldn’t keep Dalton safe if everyone learned about him.

  “No wonder you broke up if you didn’t get to know each other,” Dalton said. “You have a scary amount in common, if I think about it. Must have only been in it for the sex.”

  Isaac choked on a swallow of water, and Andrew managed to choke on nothing at all.

  “Kidding! Geez. Please don’t tell me about your sex life, Dad, but you are allowed to have one.”

  “I think Andrew would prefer to have one elsewhere.” Isaac raised his eyebrows to get Andrew to realize that now was the time to dash.

  “Right, um…it’s been really good seeing both of you.” Andrew started to get up.

  “Wait,” Dalton stopped him, “was the reason you two broke up really only because Dad got arrested? I mean, I get it, but you’re not a detective anymore, Andrew, and Dad has completely turned his life around.”

  “I know that.” Andrew froze halfway out of his seat. “But there’s, um…the age difference, and uhh…we run competing businesses now, and…”

  “And what?”

  “Um…” Dark eyes flashed to Isaac in panic.

  “Andrew’s father was a detective, his brother still is one, and he carries a gun.”

  “That’s not a fair reason.” Dalton frowned.

  “It’s a smart one.”

  “What about what you two want?”

  “Dalton…”

  “I just think it’s sad if that’s why you broke up when you never even learned who each other is.”

  “Trust me,” Andrew said, “we know who each other is. I even knew about the jazz!”

  “But does Dad know how much you kill at karaoke? Or does Andrew know how much you’ve donated to abuse shelters over the years?”

  “Wait, really?”

  “See!”

  “Wellesley!” the person behind the counter called.

  “Don’t go anywhere,” Dalton said and climbed over Andrew to zip away as if only too eager to leave them alone.

  Isaac wished he had something stronger to drink than water.

  “I thought you were gay,” Andrew spat.

  “Equal opportunity. Dalton is gay.”

  “I know that.”

  “You knew before I knew he existed, apparently.”

  “I had no idea he was your son!”

  “Wouldn’t have expected you to, but now I expect you to keep this to yourself.” He made sure his tone broached no argument, his expression hard as he lea
ned across the table.

  “You’re that worried about him?” Andrew furrowed his brow, looking to Dalton gathering the tray of food at the counter and then heading to the corner to get silverware and napkins. “You’re worried your enemies will target him.”

  “I made a lot of them at Christmas. Everyone knows I cut a deal.”

  “I won’t say anything.” Andrew nodded dutifully. “Well, except to Candace. She knows Dalton. And I have to tell Kevin.”

  Isaac scowled.

  “No one else, I promise!”

  “Art History?” Isaac said after a beat.

  “A bachelor’s in Police Science requires credits in arts and humanities, too.”

  “I’m sure it does.”

  “Why did you have to say we dated?” Andrew dropped his head back with a groan. “So, we’re both…equal opportunity. That doesn’t make this any less weird.”

  “Better than admitting I screwed my arresting officer and assisted in two hand-jobs yesterday.”

  “I can’t believe all that happened, and you still thought I was straight.”

  “People have done crazier things after a breakup.”

  Andrew glanced away.

  “That’s what happened at Christmas, isn’t it?”

  “That’s none of your—”

  “Business. I know.”

  There was a brief stint of silence again before Andrew said, “Of course we broke up. I was in a foul mood that night, which I already apologized for. You’re the one who pushed for more when we saw each other yesterday.”

  “I did. And do you regret giving in?”

  “No. But you’re still an asshole for entering the same line of work as me. If we weren’t competitors—”

  “What? You’d ask me out for real?”

  “That…would be a disaster.”

  “And yet a purely physical relationship seems to be working wonders.” Isaac eyed him gaugingly. He couldn’t go back in time and prevent Andrew from learning about Dalton, but there was no reason anything had to change between them. “You do still owe me a ‘next time’, Andrew. Unless you’re no longer interested?”

  Andrew’s eyes darkened and his cheeks flushed before he could answer.

  “Okay! I think this is everything.” Dalton set two trays on the table filled impressively with his and Isaac’s orders. The tension between Isaac and Andrew had to be palpable, but he acted as though he didn’t notice.

  “Online order—Wen!” the person at the counter called, and when Andrew slid from his seat before Dalton could climb over him again, he did so with finality.

  “I need to take this to go. It was good to see you, Dalton. I hate that we lost touch. I’d like to do this again sometime when I’m not rushing out the door.”

  “Me too. Here, let’s exchange numbers at least. I’ll give you a call sometime. Or you can call first. I’d really love to see you.”

  Andrew took Dalton’s number and sent him a text that lit up his phone with what Isaac saw was a winky-face. “I will. Soon. And Ford, guess I’ll…see you next time?” There was challenge in his expression, but promise, too.

  “Next time,” Isaac agreed and tried not to watch too closely as Andrew retrieved his food and exited the café.

  “Andrew, huh?” Dalton grinned at him.

  “Don’t.”

  “Technically not day job related—”

  “He’s my competition. That’s related enough. And I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “That might be tough the more I start seeing him again. As a friend, wow. You are so transparent.”

  “New rule,” Isaac said with a frown. “No security talk or talk about my love life.”

  Dalton raised his hands in placation, but he wasn’t remotely believable when he said, “Whatever you say, Dad.”

  * * * *

  Two days later, someone broke into Avalon and stole half of Dalton’s research and equipment on absolute zero. When instead of calling his father’s firm for assistance, he called Andrew…

  Andrew said yes.

  Chapter 3

  Andrew hadn’t told anyone about Dalton yet, though he might have to now, considering he was walking into Avalon to investigate a theft.

  On behalf of Dalton Wellesley—Dalton Ford, in a way, which was insane but somehow made perfect sense.

  It was the eyes that gave them away as father and son, so blue and intense. They’d caught Andrew off guard the first time he met both men, though under very different circumstances. Dalton in the library at college when Andrew started tutoring him. Ford the first time he came in for questioning on one of his many unproven thefts.

  Andrew had hoped to learn something useful when he followed Ford the other day, maybe recoup a few losses. He hadn’t thought it would lead to another amorous encounter, or that the next day he’d discover an old friend was his nemesis’s son.

  He chuckled at the thought as he moved through the R&D labs at Avalon. A flustered, floundering Ford had been a sight, not that Andrew had been much better. The idea of them dating was ridiculous but easier than admitting the truth.

  Ford didn’t want Dalton getting caught up in his past, including the part where Andrew had arrested him, and things had been awkward enough without admitting the sex part—which was further reason why they shouldn’t have any more rendezvouses.

  Even though the thought of ‘next time’ had been keeping Andrew up at night.

  And how attractive Ford was.

  And confident.

  And sexy.

  That line of thinking was not helping. Maybe he just needed to tell someone finally about this whole situation, Christmas and all, to clear his thoughts.

  “Hey, Andy.”

  But not Steven.

  Definitely not Steven.

  “Hey, Steve. What have we got?”

  The main area of the floor they were on was large and open with various workstations and complicated looking equipment. Staff members in lab coats milled about, as well as officers and CSI, but once Andrew walked in, the uniforms all gave him a wide berth. It was probably his imagination, but it never felt like it.

  “Still questioning the staff,” Steven said, passing Andrew a scrutinizing once over. “Why’d you run out of the precinct the other day? You didn’t even stay to talk.”

  “Um…” The last thing Andrew wanted to tell him was the truth—that he’d had to ditch his underwear. “Sorry. Work thing came up. Had me on the run all afternoon. But I appreciated the intel.”

  Steven grunted like he either didn’t care for that excuse or had something stuck in his throat. “Sounds like this Wellesley asked for you by name. Finally getting a reputation?”

  Andrew winced at the unintended jab. Steven didn’t mean to be an asshole; it just came naturally. “Not with this one. I know him.”

  “Hn.” He grunted again, making Andrew feel about twelve years old, never living up to big brother’s expectations. “Since he asked for you, you’re welcome to consult, but you’re here for security only, not police work. Don’t overstep.”

  “I’ll do my job,” Andrew bristled.

  “Speaking of…I know things have been tough,” Steven’s voice hushed, his eyes taking on a familiar look of pity. “That’s why I threw you that bone about the briefing. Can’t be easy losing so much business to Ford. I never bought that crook’s 180.”

  Even only days ago, Andrew would have agreed, but now he felt a stir of indignation.

  “This case is a big one, being Avalon. I’m glad you have a friend who trusts you enough to bring you in, but there’s always a place for you back on the force.”

  “Steve—”

  “I’ve already talked to the captain. He’s willing to—”

  “You what?” Andrew’s voice raised before he could censor it, and several people turned their direction.

  “I’m just looking out for you,” Steven hissed. “If you want something more stable, the chance to start fresh—”

  “I am starting fr
esh.” Andrew stepped closer to drop his voice. “This was my fresh start, and I’m not giving it up. It’s been tough, yes, but I’m making it work.”

  “How? By losing jobs to a conman?”

  Outrage boiled in Andrew’s gut, and his fists clenched. He was so sick of having this argument, but it incensed him more to have Ford dragged into it. “Better his shadow than yours.”

  “What’s that supposed to—”

  “Andrew!” Dalton called, waving as he approached them.

  Andrew and Steven stood by the only area with broken glass and toppled equipment, where Dalton joined them with swift strides. He dressed so differently from Ford’s simplistic black, more preppy and colorful, just like he had in college, with a collared shirt and quarter-zip sweater.

  Relieved at the interruption, Andrew reached for Dalton’s hand with a matching smile, a strong collision and squeeze rather than a shake.

  “Not exactly how I hoped to see you again,” Dalton said, “but glad it got us together sooner.”

  “Steve, this is Dalton Wellesley,” Andrew introduced them, making it clear with the dart of his eyes that he had no intention of continuing their conversation. “We went to the U together.”

  “Well, I was a freshman to Andrew’s early-release senior.”

  “You graduated early too.”

  “Yeah, but you graduating early meant our movie marathons had to come to an end.”

  “Hate to tell you this,” Andrew tipped forward with a conspiratorial whisper, “but I replaced you and finished the Star Trek movies with someone else.”

  Dalton gasped dramatically and slapped a hand to his chest. “Betrayer. And here I thought our time together was special.”

  They shared a laugh, falling in step like they’d never been apart.

  “Do you two need a moment?” Steven asked wryly.

  “Sorry,” Andrew said. “We ran into each other the other day, and it’s been nice catching up.”

  “Don’t worry, Detective,” Dalton added. “I know we need to take this seriously. That’s why I’m glad to have Andrew here. My research was at the turning point of some very important discoveries on absolute zero. Not only does this set me back months,” he gestured at the material carnage around what was obviously his workspace, with a taller table for equipment, and a separate smaller desk for his computer, “but what was stolen could be dangerous in the wrong hands.”