Happy Kermit Flail Birthday to Me!

YAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAY!

So yes--I know that this Kermit Flail is a wee bit early, but hey-- September 30th is my birthday, and I can celebrate how I want! As it happens, October 1st is Mate's birthday and my biomom's, Sept. 24th is Chicken's, Sept. 23rd is my Auntie's, and seriously-- there is so much celebrating going on that I get stuff done when I can!

So Happy Birthday to me--we've got some rocking Kermit Flail today!


For starters, we've got rock stars! Huzzah!!! You all know that's one of my favorites!  And R.L. Merrill has given us a real angst sundae here--it looks terrific!

Summer of Hush

by R.L. Merrill



Hush is back… and it’s about to get loud.

After two years grieving the death of his best friend, Silas Franklin is back on the road with his metalcore band, Hush. With a new member, a brilliant new album, and a headlining spot on the last cross-country Warped Tour, life couldn’t be better—unless Silas could meet the intriguing music blogger known only as the Guru. Silas has followed his blog for years and feels the Guru might be the only person who “gets” him.

For years Krishnan Guruvayoor has reported on the metal scene as an anonymous blogger, and he’s just landed an internship on the Warped Tour as well as a potential position with a well-respected music magazine. His best friend arranges for him to meet singer Silas Franklin—but only as Krish the Intern. Their chemistry is instant, and Krish is thrilled to get to know the man behind the music.


The rock star and blogger quickly go from meet-cute to cuddle session, but secrets, overprotective bandmates, meddling media, and a terrible accident all conspire against them. Can their romance survive the summer of Hush?


Buy Here

And next in the lineup we've got the opposite of angst sundae-- we've got sexy theme park operators and Broadway music stars with a cozy mystery thrown in! Come check out I've Got this by Louisa Masters!

I've Got this

by Louisa Masters


Derek Bryer loves his life. His job as an assistant director at Joy Universe, the second-largest theme park complex on the planet, makes him indirectly responsible for bringing joy (pun intended) to millions of people. So what if none of his relationships are that close? Everyone he meets loves him.

Except Trav Jones. For some reason, the visiting Broadway performer would rather Derek just go away. He appreciates Derek’s work ethic, though, and after Trav steps up when Derek desperately needs someone to fill in for his sick staff, Derek seizes the chance to convince Trav he’s not such a bad guy.

Falling in love while distracted by a murder at the park, food poisoning, and colleagues laying bets on their relationship won’t be easy, but between the two of them and with the magic of Joy Universe, they’ve got this.

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So we've got the angst, we've got the quirk-- and then we've got this gem of a book by Kim Fielding. I don't get a chance to read nearly as many books as I'd like to, but I had the good luck to read this one, and it's just so damned sweet. Cal Walters is prickly and Teo is adorable, and together they work really hard to prove that fairy tales can come true. Come check out Drawing the Prince--it truly is an escape from your every day.

Drawing the Prince

by Kim Fielding

Painting themselves a life together will be a royal ordeal.

Small-town boy Cal Walters doesn’t know whether he owes his phenomenal success as an artist to talent or to his connections to famous people. Doubt leaves him secluded—until a lost bet lands him on yet another blind date. But this one is different.

To Teofilo Vabriga-Kastav, playboy prince of the tiny nation of Porvunia and passionate art lover, Cal’s paintings are as intriguing as Cal himself. When Teo invites Cal to his country for an art competition, a whirlwind romance sweeps them up. But it can’t last—loyalties and obligations bind them to lives that are worlds apart.

Cal and Teo might’ve found their perfect complements in each other, but to hold on to their happiness, they’ll have to get creative.

"[A]n enchanting royal affair."--Publishers Weekly

Buy Here 

And finally... well, you know. Jackson. Ellery. Billy Bob, Jade, and Lucy Satan. 

I mean, the gang's all here, right? 

Come join them!

Fish on a Bicycle

by Amy Lane

Fish Out of Water: Book Five

Jackson Rivers has always bucked the rules—and bucking the rules of recovery is no exception. Now that he and Ellery are starting their own law firm, there’s no reason he can’t rush into trouble and take the same risks as always, right?

Maybe not. Their first case is a doozy, involving porn stars, drug empires, and daddy issues, and their client, Henry Worrall, wants to be an active participant in his own defense. As Henry and Jackson fight the bad guys and each other to find out who dumped the porn star in the trash can, Jackson must reexamine his assumptions that four months of rest and a few good conversations have made him all better inside.

Jackson keeps crashing his bicycle of self-care and a successful relationship, and Ellery wonders what’s going to give out first—Jackson’s health or Ellery’s patience. Jackson’s body hasn’t forgiven him for past crimes. Can Ellery forgive him for his current sins? And can they keep Henry from going to jail for sleeping with the wrong guy at the wrong time?

Being a fish out of water is tough—but if you give a fish a bicycle, how’s he going to swim?

Getting to Know You...Jai/George Part 5

It's been a while since I visited Jai and George--I seem to remember there about to be sex...

Which I may not get to tonight--but I WILL get to it.

* * *

George could barely contain himself enough to sit down, but Jai insisted. He'd cooked dinner, was plating it up on camp plates, and had even brought the good quality paper napkins and he kept apologizing for not remembering wine.

George's last boyfriend didn't use napkins and probably would have brought cheap tequila and inhaled it from the bottle.

Watching as Jai cast him surreptitious little glances as he prepared a simple meal on a camp stove was such an improvement.

"So," George said, hating to break the companionable silence. "How was your month?"

Jai shrugged. "My month? It was good. Lots of people trying to destroy their cars between LA and Vegas--Ace likes to say he loves those people, they keep trying to make us rich."

George laughed a little. "Nice. I'll have to try not to be one of them."

Jai rolled his eyes and brought their plates over. "Try harder. For God's sake, if you wanted me to look at your truck, you just had to ask."

Oh how embarrassing. "I'm not!" he defended. "Is it normal for it to need work so soon?"

"No," Jai said matter-of-factly. "The engine is dying. Could be fifty miles, could be five-hundred, but your bearings and seals are going to blow."

George stared at him. "That isn't good."

Jai shrugged and took a bite of spaghetti. "That depends. Do you have three thousand dollars for a new engine, or ten thousand dollars for a new truck?"

"I have just enough money to put money in my gas tank and get back to my little apartment in Northridge and eat noodles until I get paid next week."

Jai's glare was truly fearsome. "Do you have a drug problem?"

"No!"

"Gambling debts?"

"God no!"

"Are you paying a blackmailer?"

"NO! And whatever the next awful thing you're going to ask me, no to that too."

"Are you taking care of elderly parents?"

George paused, wondering what Jai had skipped and then deciding he didn't want to know. "No--they're doing just fine in Palm Springs."

"Student debt?"

George let out a breath and touched his nose. "Bingo."

"But your parents are rich?"

"Yeah, but I ran through a lot of their money studying stupid shit before I decided to get my nursing degree."

"Ah." Jai finally took a bite of spaghetti. "Your misspent youth."

"Yeah." George took his own bite and "hmmd".  "Good stuff--thank you."

"You can drive my Toyota home for a month. Sonny and I will make your car a project."

George swallowed his next bite too fast and had to work hard not to choke. "I am not putting out for you just so you can fix my truck!"

Jai's laughter had not gotten any worse over the last month. Rich, round, echoing--it started a stroke in George's stomach that was like foreplay for foreplay.

"But you are putting out for me?" Jai asked, amused.

"After that kiss?" George challenged. "You betcha!"

"Good." Jai took another bite of spaghetti and George followed. "Now tell me about your month."

"Busy," George said promptly. "I picked up a couple of extra shifts so I could get this weekend off. Amal was going to have kittens when I told him I was coming up camping with a total stranger. I tried to explain that it was a date like any other, but he expects me to turn up missing Monday morning."

Jai chuckled some more. "This Amal--he is a supervisor, or your friend?"

"Both. We tried to date. It was like drinking a caffeine free diet soda."

"Tastes like distilled evil and there's still no point?" Jai asked, horrified.

"Yes! Oh my God--yes. You understand. Everything that was wrong with the world was in that kiss. But we get along so well--it's like the gods said, 'Here, you shall have a work friend you are guaranteed not to loathe!' And boom. There we were."

"What makes him such a good work friend?" Jai asked, polishing off his spaghetti and turning on the picnic bench so they could look at each other. Night had fallen as they'd eaten, and only the faintest twilight threw Jai's face into darkness.

"He laughs at my jokes," George said promptly, and then because twilight was always such a serious time of day anyway, "and he knows how to make me laugh when the job breaks my heart."

"Mm." Jai took George's hand in his and stroked the back of it with his thumb. "The job hurts your heart?"

"ER," George said with a shrug. "Sometimes it's junkies who need detox, sometimes it's homeless people with fungus foot, and sometimes..." Unbidden he thought of the two-car crash he'd attended that morning, with four kids in the back of each car. There'd been three fatalities in the end, all of them children, and hearing the two mothers--both with serious injuries of their own--cry out in pain that would never heal--that had shaken them both. George had gone outside during his break to try to breathe deep and get his emotions under control, and Amal had called a fifty dollar grocery delivery for the entire unit--all donuts, cookies, and pastries.

"It was bad, today?"Jai said, breaking softly into his thoughts.

"Yeah. It was kids. That's always rough. Amal ordered like... six tons of Oreos and an entire cheesecake for the floor. We all walked through the nurse's station and shoved sugar at each other. It was... it was funny, you know? Sad but funny. And sort of awesome. Being human is hard sometimes."

"That is a good friend," Jai said. "Like Ace. He makes me come to his house twice a week for dinner. Sometimes I watch movies and sleep on the couch. There's nothing fancy--and we don't like the same movies at all--but he does it so I know I'm not alone."

"Yeah," George said. He brought his hand up to touch Jail's cheekbone with his thumb. "Maybe that's enough of us talking about other people for a minute."

He felt, rather than heard Jai's gentle smile, and then Jai lowered his head for a kiss.

A kiss like dessert, sweet and decadent and a little overwhelming, George was more than ready to give in to the current and get swept away.

Jai hummed and wrapped his arms around George's shoulders, and rather than feeling powerless, George felt empowered. This man--this massive man--who could care for George better than any man in his life--had made him for a date--on time--and promised to do nice things for him and fixed him dinner. Everything a good man was supposed to be, this gentle giant was. George didn't particularly care how many men he'd killed at this point--he wanted to know what it felt like to be protected and cared for.

All his adolescent selfishness had been leading up to this moment, apparently, because he wasn't going to give up this night for anything.

Jai pulled back, chest heaving, and rested his lips on George's forehead for a moment. "If I don't clean up, there will be animals. Do you want me to build a fire or--"

George took Jai's hand and placed it in a very suggestive, very swollen place. "Fire built," he moaned, wishing he could see Jai's expression.

Jai kissed his temple. "Then you go into the tent and stoke the fire," he said, laughing at the dirty pun, "and I'll clean up. Don't worry. I'll be there shortly." He paused. "Oh! Here." He pulled out his phone and punched a link. "See?"

"Jai Popov-- that's your last name?"

Jai wrinkled his nose. "No. Why would it be my real last name? Are you kidding me? But it was my real blood. See?"

"Negative for all transmitted viruses," George finished, then grinned. "Very romantic."

Jai shrugged, looking embarrassed. "I just... you know--"

"No, I shouldn't have laughed. Here."  He reached into his pocket and pulled out his printout, dated that week. "Here's mine."

"George C. Carmichael. What is the C for?"

George rolled his eyes. "Christopher."

"It is a good thing you had a misspent youth, George, or your name would make you invisible." Jai swallowed, and the air about them grew serious. "Thank you. For trusting me. For... for making a promise and keeping it. I'm going to clean up. I'll be in the tent shortly."

As George made his way back to the tent, left his boots at the entrance, and then undressed quickly in the chilly night, the buzz of anticipation made it hard for him to keep the tremble out of his fingers. Finally he was naked, and, with a little help from one of the disposable ampoules he'd packed, pre-lubed. HIs own fingers had been cold, parting his cheeks, squirting up his cleft--but it had been worth it. When Jai appeared at the tent's entrance, toeing off his own boots and then undressing carefully, he looked so serious. George wanted nothing between them, nothing in the way of what was going to happen next.

He was naked quickly, which was a shame because George could make out nothing in the near darkness inside the tent, and then he was inside the sleeping bag. George was on top of him before he could so much as zip up the side.

"Hell--mmmf..."

George had been waiting for this. Waiting to make love to this giant of a man. From Jai's kisses George knew he could be passionate--knew he could be in control--but George was not prepared for the way he completely took over.

With a growl he rolled back over, putting George on his back and holding his hands over his head.

"Slower," he grumbled. "Forever trying to rush things. I like what comes next."

* * *

... And it will happen tomorrow, when I am not falling asleep!!! Sleepy writers write bad sex--it's true!

Jackson and Ellery Defend A Friend of Mine

So, in celebration of Fish on a Bicycle going on pre-sale at DSP, I thought I'd give a little bit of love to my friend Rhae, who is currently having some trouble with contractors and needs some vengeance.

 *  *  *

Chaos and Cooking

Jackson had put the folder together the day before, and but he sat in on the meeting between Ellery and the defendant with no assumptions whatsoever.

"So, Ms. Camdyn--" Ellery began.

"Oh, honey. You can call me Rhae. It's so sweet of you to see me on such short notice." The woman who sat in their brand new law office with her bag of crocheting and a pretty little shawl around her shoulders did not look threatening.

"Well, yes, Rhae--you caught us as we're just beginning our practice. We've got a few cases under our belt--most of them successful--"

"Oh, I looked you up already. I know your record. That Sampson thing--what a doozy!"

Ellery looked at Jackson who shrugged. Well, "shrewd old bird" was IN CAPS in the top of the damned file for a reason.

"And I heard that your PI had some trouble--" she continued.

"All fine," Jackson lied. He told the truth to Ellery, that was enough.

"Um-hm."  Rhae Camdyn was a sweet, plumpish grandmotherly sort, with graying hair pulled up in a ponytail and bright eyes peering out from gray-framed glasses, but apparently she was computer savvy, and also savvy to the contracting laws of the state.

And according to the printout, she was one hell of a baker.

"So, Ms. Camdyn, you are charged with poisoning an entire construction crew with brownies," Ellery said, still not sure he'd read that right, then heard that right, then researched that right. "Is this true?"

"Is it true that I'm being charged with that? Oh yes, it most definitely is."

Ellery raised his eyebrows, and Jackson shrugged again. How many times did he need to put "shrewd old bird" in caps anyway?

"So, you're being charged with it--what I'm asking now is, did you do it?"

"Definitely not," Jackson interjected, raising one eyebrow. "The report is absolutely clear. Two labs verified it, Ellery. The brownies were homemade, they had two types of chocolate, and according to all the guys on the site, they were delicious. But they were not--repeat not--tampered with or poisoned. There was nothing in those brownies besides your standard ingredients."

Rhae Camdyn smiled an adorable little-old-lady smile and pulled out her crocheting project. "Except a whole lot of love," she said, starting to stitch what appeared to be a purple granny square.

"So the brownies were uncontaminated," Ellery clarified.

"Not a damned thing in them that me and those boys didn't bring in the first place," Ms. Camdyn reassured him, her hands flying with the wool and the hook.

"Then how do you explain what happened next?" Ellery continued doggedly.

"Next?"

Jackson had to hand it to her--she was good. He'd seen a lot of hardened criminals who would have murdered twice to sound as innocent as this woman.

"Yes," Ellery said. "Next. The entire group of contractors--including guys who claimed they weren't on the scene that day--had to be rushed to the hospital with cramps, nausea, and diarrhea. They all swore it was the brownies."

"But how could it be?" Rhae said, not dropping a stitch. "My brownies had nothing in them that me and those boys didn't bring to the table."

Jackson's eyes narrowed. It was the second time she'd said something like that--the third if you counted the police report.

"They were building your house, ma'am," Jackson said, and Ellery nodded because it was obvious he was out of steam trying to figure this one out.

"Well, that's what they said they were doing," Ms. Camdyn said tartly. "They claimed to be putting our pre-fab together, but those things should go up in a relatively short period of time, and those assholes have been mucking about it for weeks."

Jackson knew his eyes widened, but then, he'd talked to some of those guys. They'd gone on and on about the old lady whining at them when they'd been trying to text their girlfriends, and he'd thought they were assholes too.

"That must have been really inconvenient."

"Inconvenient?" she asked, and her sweet-little-old-lady gaze went hard. "We were living in a double-wide--do you know how many fur-babies we have?"

"Says here six?" Jackson asked, just to make sure. "Is that right?"

"I have no idea," she snapped. "But I have grown children and fur-babies and then that rain--"

"Yes, ma'am. Climate change is very destructive--"

"My office collapsed!" she snarled. "Because the prefab was supposed to be up by then! Inconvenient? Do you know I used to do that work? I would put in an honest days work for an honest day's pay, and those fools were telling me that I couldn't tell if they were slacking because I didn't know what they were supposed to be doing in the first place! My husband had to hold me back--we own a shotgun and I know how to use it!"

Ellery's eyes, which had narrowed suspiciously, were now very very wide, and he was looking at Jackson with the teeniest bit of anxiety. "Do you, uhm, happen to be armed now, ma'am?"

"No, young man, where do you think we live? Texas? There's no concealed carry law for a shotgun in California, and if there is, where am I supposed to conceal it? Use it as a cane?"

Jackson hid a smirk behind his hand.

"Uhm, no ma'am," Ellery said, having apparently just been schooled. "You seem very upset--and rightly so. I mean, I could probably make a case for letting you off if you did poison--"

"I didn't poison the brownies!" she said, with extreme emphasis.

"But you did poison the workers?" Jackson asked, just making sure.

"There was no poison involved," she said, her anger fading and her complacency returning as if by magic.

"Ma'am, we need to know. What exactly did you do to the contractors?"

She regarded them serenely from her purple project again. "I cursed them."

Jackson thought his eyeballs might dry out, and Ellery looked like he'd quit breathing.  Jackson recovered first. "I'm sorry, ma'am, but how did you--"

"Brownies were fine. I'm a high level druid, young man. I passed my wand thrice and uttered a 'receive as thou hast given' spell over them. It was a mild spell--I was thinking they'd get a little heartburn was all. I didn't realize they were such assholes that they'd all get karmic dysentery."

There was no air in the room. None. It had all been sucked out and Jackson could only gape like a fish. This time it was Ellery who recovered.

"You absolutely cannot say that on the stand."

"Wasn't planning to," she said, her hook never ceasing that rather hypnotic movement. "I only told you two nice young men because you were so insistent that it would hurt my case if you were surprised."

"Well we're definitely surprised," Jackson managed. "But, well, Ellery's right. There is absolutely no evidence to link you to the mysterious illness that took over the entire outfit. In fact, because some of the people who got sick weren't there, it points to a flaw in their own water supply, and we should probably use that as an alternative theory. I'm pretty sure we can get you off completely."

Rhae Camdyn's ingenuous smile didn't dim one iota. "Oh, I had a good feeling about you boys. Thank you so much. I absolutely must make you something for this office. I think one of Auntie Rhae's afghans would look lovely in the front, don't you?"

"We'd be delighted, ma'am," Jackson said, feeling as though the juggernaut of fate had somehow missed them but breezed a bit of wind through their hair. "Just, you know, don't bake for us."

Ms. Camdyn's laughter tinkled throughout the office, and she left shortly thereafter, leaving Jackson and Ellery to look at each other helplessly.

"A curse," Ellery said.

"That was new."

"There is absolutely nothing proving that is even possible--" Ellery began, but Jackson held up a hurried hand.

"Ellery, do you really want to test that woman? She's knitting us an afghan--for all we know it's got karmic wool or something and every time we tell a lie we'll be jumping like we've got a pin up our ass. Just take the win."

"But--"

"Take the win," Jackson ground out. "Take the fucking win."

"Fine," Ellery muttered. "It doesn't look like we've got a choice. The DA dropped the case."

"Really?"

"Something about the entire office taking a nap after getting a batch of cupcakes."

Jackson expelled a breath. "Take. The. Win."

"I should have been a dentist,"  Ellery told him sincerely.

"Sure. And I should have been a history teacher. We both fucked up. Just this once, we're going to walk away."

"The afghan was purple, Jackson."

"It's for the office," he said diplomatically. "Jade likes purple--she's the one who has to look at it in the reception room. Take--"

"The win. Fine. Come here."

Jackson moved across the room. "Why?" he asked, although he figured he knew.

Ellery raised his face. "Kiss me."

Jackson smiled, but did it anyway. "Why?"

"Because that, at least, I know is real."

MoonFish--Surprise Visit--Part 8--FINALE

*pant pant pant*


So this is it. It was supposed to be a "ficlet" but in reality, it's about 15K--so a full out novella. Now honestly, I don't think this is publishable because too much relies on things from other books, so it's still going on the back of Fish on a Bicycle.

But one of the fun things about following me on social media is you get to see it now.

Enjoy!

Surprise Visit!--Part 8

Jackson couldn’t keep his eyes off monstrosity dangling over his head.

“Really?” he asked nobody in particular.

“I was about to say the same thing,” Ellery muttered, staring in the same direction. “I mean, apart from being hideous—”

“It’s gonna fall on our heads and kill us all?”

The hideous thing in question was a large plywood rainbow arch, painted in neon colors—badly—and suspended about thirty feet off the ground using nylon cord in the branches of trees, and a cherry picker. Besides looking garish and unhealthy, it also looked… precarious. Damned precarious.

Jackson looked at Ellery, and they both looked at his mother, who was lingering over a table of admittedly lovely blown glass baubles that had caught her eye.

“We need to get her away from this thing,” Ellery said, and Jackson nodded in return, his blood running just the tiniest bit cold. This had been the longest four days of his life—but he was damned if it would end with Lucy Satan’s blood on his hands.

He gave the sign, which read, “Crafty, Free, LGBQT!” another dubious look and caught a flash of something shiny from a gap in the cherry picker.

Fucking aces.

With a shake of his head he turned towards Ellery’s mother, who was charmingly terrorizing the poor blue-haired waif behind the counter.

“So, these were blown by your wife? That’s wonderful. Is that her there?”

“Yes ma’am.” She nodded at a tanned, wiry woman waiting on another customer. “She’s been learning the craft from her uncle since she was in high school.”

“Well this must be her calling. And did you make the felted bags they go into? Because they complement the artwork so very well.”

Blue-haired waif smiled weakly and looked toward her wife, who was not in rescuing position. “Thank you,” she squeaked. “We, uh, like color.”

They did indeed. The glass globes were done in a variety of techniques, from color diffused throughout the glass, to the kind that looked like flowers in the center, to the kind with abstract shapes drawn throughout the sphere, the colors undulating and receding with the angle.

Jackson smiled and winked at the poor woman, not talking because he sort of got that wasn’t her thing. Instead he peered at the artwork, as fascinated by the colors as Ellery’s mother seemed to be.

“Which one do you like?” Lucy Satan asked, and for once he didn’t get defensive or snark at her. For one thing, the girl watching them was fragile, and she might not get that with them, being bitchy was a bit of a dance.

“Mm…” Jackson ran his finger down one that was a cluster of white and ebony flowers, with hints of green. “That one’s very Ellery, except it’s a little girly. But pretty.” He smiled at the waif again. She smiled back gratefully. “This one…” He had to reach out and touch it. The colors were rich brown and bright magenta, and they reminded him of his sister’s hair. Back before it had been a thing, Jade had found a way to put a strip of that bright puplish pink in her rich brown hair. She’d done it as tightly kinked curls, she’d done it as waves. Even when they’d been in high school and she hadn’t had the money to get her hair “done”, she’d bought a box of something totally inappropriate for her hair and combed it through her tight mahogany-bronze ringlets. The dye had lasted until her next wash, of course, and she’d needed to cut the ends off because it had fried them completely, but she’d loved that color.

His sister of the heart—he’d put her and her boyfriend through a lot this past year. And she hadn’t wavered, not once. It had been her idea to break off the on-again-off-again thing between them—which was good, because they’d both fallen in love with other people. But she was a lesson—a true good lesson—in how love, real love, wasn’t something you could just fuck away.

“This,” he said thoughtfully. “Reminds me of Jade.”

“It does indeed,” she said.

Jackson risked a look at her, and she was regarding him thoughtfully.

“Did you and Ellery decide on the office?” she asked, catching him by surprise.

“The one on F street.” He sighed. “The parking is going to suck, but you know, he really loves the inside.”

“And you’d do anything for him, wouldn’t you?”

Jackson nodded. “Well, yeah.”


She patted his hand. “I appreciate the two of you, doing what I asked this week. Not asking questions.” She let out a little sigh, and he wondered if she was as tired as he was. “I think I was asked to come here because you and Ellery could handle this situation, and Ellery’s father…”

“Is too sweet for words.”

She gave a throaty little laugh. “IT’s really so very much easier for us to be in danger, isn’t it? Than to let our loved ones be?”

Jackson nodded, and out of instinct, he looked up at the cherry picker.

Burton was standing up and sighting somebody in the cherry picker!

Jackson grabbed Ellery’s mother and wrapped his shoulders around her, hating that she was six inches shorter than he was, even in her pumps. With a quick look around he saw Ellery, standing under the sign, head cocked like he couldn’t’ figure out what in the hell Jackson was doing.

And beyond him, he saw a motorcycle, veering toward them, ready to go up and over the sidewalk and into the crowd like it was out of control.

From far away, he heard Burton shouting “Rivers, get down!” at the same time he said, “Ellery move!”

And then…

Burton had never almost frozen in his entire life.

He’d had them all in his sights. The happy little family, looking at doo-dads, Ellery standing a few paces off, apparently entranced by his mother and Rivers making nice. Wasn’t that fucking adorable, right?

Then Jason had spoken up in his earbud. “I got Charley One, repeat, got Charley One. Charley Two is inbound motorcycle, heading east down K street. He has no options, repeat zero options.”

Uh oh. Bad guys with zero options often got desperate. Burton disregarded invisibility and stood to spot the motorcycle when he saw two things.

One was Jackson, wrapping his body around Ellery Cramer’s mother, and the other was Cramer, standing right in the way of the motorcycle straight toward him.

And then the third thing. The big assed nylon cord, the granddaddy of sailor’s knots that held the entire hideosity of a sign up from this side.

He screamed, “Rivers, get down!” at the same time Jackson screamed, “Ellery move!” and then he prayed for timing and pulled the cord.

Ellery didn’t give a shit what everybody was yelling. Jackson was protecting his mother bodily and Ellery had to go help him. He lunged for the two of them, knocking them both to the ground just as the giant piece of plywood swung down and knocked off some poor asshole on a runaway motorcycle that was heading for the craft fair.

The cycle went sideways and slid across the concrete, coming to a stop about a foot away from Ellery’s backside as he lay on the ground, feeling foolish. The rider—wearing black leathers with a yellow helmet—got unsteadily to his feet and was reaching around behind him for something when suddenly he fell to his knees, and then on his face.

Ellery’s eyes went wide as a thin trickle of blood came out of his helmet and a gun went skittering across the sidewalk.

And out of nowhere, an ambulance pulled up.

Jackson and Ellery’s mother were still climbing creakily to their feet as the ambulance guys—no medics Jackson or Ellery had ever met, and they knew this beat pretty well—gathered the cyclist up and put him on a gurney without even taking off his helmet. Given the lack of movement as a whole, Ellery suspected the helmet was probably holding all the cyclist’s brains in, after the bullet had liberated them from the rider’s skull.

As they clambered to their feet and checked for bruises, Ellery caught Jackson looking over their heads and nodding, before going back to making sure Ellery’s mother and Ellery didn’t have any scrapes.

Jackson, of course, had bloodied his elbow going down, because Jesus Christ, that man.

As the crowd started muttering to itself and stopped looking for police—who didn’t appear to be coming—and nobody noticed that the motorcycle had just seemed to pick itself up and drive away—Ellery looked a question at Jackson.

“So….?”

Jackson shrugged and smiled wearily—and then jumped and checked his pocket. “Uh, so, Lucy? We can go the fuck home now.”

For a moment Ellery’s mother sagged, looking a little older, and a little fragile, and a little like she’d actually needed that protection after all.

Then she stood upright and gave Jackson a level look. “Of course, dear boy. But if you will excuse me, I have a purchase to make, and I’d really love to see the rest of the booths here, don’t you think?”

Jackson let out a little laugh. “Of course, Lucy Satan. Of course.”

They stood back and let Ellery’s mother make her purchases, and Ellery put his hand solidly on the small of Jackson’s back.

“So, is it over?”

Jackson pulled out his phone. One bad guy dead, one in custody. Will text you tonight with the all clear. Nice reflexes, by the way.

As Ellery watched, Jackson texted, Thanks for the apple fritters.

And that was all. “Wow,” Ellery muttered. “So, do we still have to go to the game tonight?”

Jackson just looked at him. “After we’ve invited Jade and Mike? Do you really think your mom is going to cancel now?”

Ellery groaned.

No. No she would not. But they would get to go home and have dinner there and spend some time on the couch. And since his mother couldn’t get another flight out until the day after next, they had an actual day to sit quietly and visit, while Jackson swam laps in the pool and tried really really hard to forget the last five days had ever happened.

Good luck with that, though.

Before she left, Ellery’s mother gave them a charming hosts’ gift.

A hand blown paperweight, with the unlikely color combo of bronze and magenta mingling in the center. Jackson had smiled as he’d unwrapped, and set it down on it’s felt coaster with surprisingly respectful fingers.

Ellery had just cocked his head.

“You don’t like it?” his mother inquired.

“Mm… not my colors,” he said diplomatically.

“Well then, think of it more as Jackson’s gift.”

And Ellery did. But that was okay. He gave his mother a genteel kiss on the cheek. “Something that makes him happy is a gift for me,” he said, feeling sappy.

But his mother just smiled and patted his cheek, and it was time to take her to the airport.

They got back and collapsed on the couch in complete relief.

“Please tell me you won’t miss her,” Jackson begged.

Ellery looked at him, wearing the waterproof bandage on his elbow like a badge of honor. “Jackson?”

“Yeah?”

“If I stripped naked and bent over the couch, would you to get the lube from the bedroom? I’d really like to celebrate being alone.”

Jackson’s chuckle, ripe and filthy, was enough to get him to stand up and start toeing off his shoes.

Epilogue

Jason Constance had learned to sleep on a helicopter a long time ago—but he couldn’t. Not today.

“You dropped a sign on his head,” he said in disbelief.

Burton opened one eye, because he had been sleeping. “You taught us to use the weapon at hand,” he replied, voice mild.

“I don’t even believe how that went down.”

Burton snorted. “I don’t believe you subdued your guy without killing him. It took an awful lot of fun with knives to get that guy to talk.”

Constance shrugged. Like Burton, the physical things—the running, jumping, shooting people while you did it—that part had been the easy part.

It had been holding on to the tiny fragments of his soul that was hard.

“But a sign!”

Burton blew out a breath. “If I tell you a secret, will you shut up about the fucking sign?”

“Sure.”

“Ernie texted me the day after we left. There was ‘Rivers get down’, and there was ‘Pull that thing!’. Guess how it played out.”

Constance started to giggle. “Really?”

“Really.”

The giggles died abruptly. “Let me know if he texts you anything about me, okay?”

Burton just stared at him, and Constance got an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“What? What’d he say?”

“He said that in the end, when it’s all over, you’re gonna be okay.”

And for the life of him, Jason Constance, who’d had a plan all his life, couldn’t think of another thing to say.

MoonFish--Surprise Visit! Part 7

So, yeah-- this is still going on--but we're drawing to a close and that's exciting!

Anyway-- in honor of MoonFish, and me being way behind, we're postponing Kermit Flail until May--so don't forget to send in your stuff if you have a book to pimp! (If I get a ton of stuff for April in the next week, I'll do one for next Monday, but in the meantime, Squish is having a birthday and I'm planning a party... and a class... and some events. So let's just say, you know. Busy.)
So Kermit Flail, first Monday in May, watch for it then. 

And in the meantime, enjoy the MoonFish!

PART 7

“Oh dear God,” Jason muttered, struggling to sit up in the bed of the house they’d co-opted for the operation. “What now?”

“Craft fair,” Burton told him from the computer console that tapped into all the cameras they’d placed around Ellery Cramer’s house in the past week. “Jackson texted last night after we got in.”

“He what?”

Burton grimaced. Technically he never should have contacted Rivers at all, but after things like, say, an emergency trip to the Sierras to rescue a kid out of a tree, he figured that maybe Jackson’s pithy advanced notice comments did more good than harm. 

“Wanted us to know. Craft fair during the day, King’s game at night. I already got us tickets.”

“Kings game? They’re not bad this year.” Jason blinked hard, trying to wake up and Burton let out a sigh. 

“Boss?”

“Yeah?”

“You need a break.”

And maybe because they’d been working the op together for four days and Jackson had almost given Constance a heart attack when he’d climbed that fucking tree, Jason actually said something real.

“I am having nightmares.”

Well of course. The things they’d seen, the things they’d known had happened, and, worse, the things they were anticipating that hadn’t happened yet. Burton had Ernie to go home to, but Constance, he watched over the whole lot of Psycho Unit USA (as some asshole had dubbed their detail, whom Burton would never forgive.) 

“I… Ernie helps,” Burton admitted, because hearing his CO and boss and friend admit that he wasn’t handling shit was a big admission. Nobody took advantage of the free psyche program in their detail. 

Nobody.

“Burton, can I ask you something?”

“Sir, yessir.”

Constance rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and scowled. “Very funny. How did you know? About being…gay?”

“Bi?” Burton shot back, but then took pity on his boss. “I knew. Girls were easier. And since, you know, this job, relationships not a thing, I did easy.”

“Then why Ernie?” 

Ernie hadn’t been easy at all. Ernie had been a spacy, bitter, kind mass of contradictions—who had known deep in his witchy bones that they were destined to be lovers from the moment he’d first heard Burton’s voice. 

Which was about three days before he’d seen his face.

Burton blew out a breath and smiled. “He, uh, wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

Constance’s look of surprise made him laugh. “Really.”

Well, Burton cultivated his silence, his body, his entire demeanor, to be the guy people didn’t mess with. But then, Ernie cultivated his spaciness, his flexibility, his quiet yielding to the brutal winds of the world to be the guy people didn’t notice. 

And yet Ernie had kept bending Burton to his will. Burton had just looked at him and melted. And every time he tried to put up a barrier or put the brakes on, he’d thought about living without Ernie and…

Couldn’t.

“I can’t explain it,” he said humbly. 

Constance let out a bark of laughter. “And I came to you for advice?”

Burton rolled his eyes. “About what?”

Constance shook his head. “Nothing—it’s unimportant.”

Burton let out a sigh. “Jason, do you see those screens?”

“Yeah?”

“To the left of screen four, we’ve got a bad guy in waiting in a follow car. At nine o’clock, our three targets are going to leave the house in that ridiculous SUV of theirs and drive through this weird-ass city to go to a craft fair in the Rainbow District. Which means that in forty-five minutes one of us is going to go first and set up, and the other one is going to follow, and we’re going to be kind of busy for the next couple of hours. But until then, you and me got nothing but time. Now what? We’ve worked together for five years and you are the one person—including my parents—who knows about me and Ernie. So what is it you can’t tell me?”

Jason raised an eyebrow. “One person?”

Burton tilted his chin just enough. He didn’t talk about Ace and Sonny, and their little garage that managed to sustain itself on word of mouth alone. Jason knew, but Burton didn’t talk about them.

“Fine.” Jason blew out a breath. “Not bi, Lee. Gay. Me. Gay. And I haven’t hooked up since I became your CO. Because I’m ten years older than you, and ten years ago that sort of thing could have gotten me fucking killed.”

Burton was conscious that he had to close his mouth. He did that and swallowed to get rid of the dryness. “Really?”

“Would I fucking lie—”

“No. Not about this.” Burton held his hands. “But you heard me calling out for Ernie…” Neither of them liked to talk about the early days in Psycho Unit USA. Knowing who was out there, knowing what they’d been trained to do, knowing that someone from their military had basically set monsters loose on the world—nobody in their unit was okay.

“I guessed. I was right. And so I can talk to you.”

Burton grimaced. “Look. You know that place I don’t talk about?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s home. I… I made myself a home, even before I had myself an Ernie. Do you still live at the base?”

Constance scrubbed his face. “Yeah. God yeah.”

“Make yourself a home. Take your own advice. Get the fuck off the base and find a thing that’s human and real. You don’t need to hookup—you need to connect. And that’s a whole different thing.”

Constance gave half a laugh and nodded. “That’s… that’s some wise words,” he said softly. “I’ll remember that.”

“My pleasure, sir,” Burton said dryly. “You want to shower before we have to get to it? These people have a shower with a steam setting—I feel like all my dangly parts are clean, you know?”

Constance laughed outright then. “I’ll try to make it quick.”

“You completely missed the point. Now go!”

Burton watched his CO disappear into the bathroom and looked back at his screens. Nope, nothing yet. He knew they were out there—he’d seen flashes of one guy, shadows really. They needed them both. Getting one wouldn’t do it—both would help them put pressure on the people who issued the contract.

He was ready for this detail to end already. 

Usually when he was sent to guard a target, there was a hint of wrong doing—some sense that this person had agreed to live dangerously. Ellery Cramer’s mother had done nothing more than issue a few delicate inquiries as to where Karl Lacey had gotten his money. Yes, it was officially poking her nose where it didn’t belong—but issuing a hit wasn’t usually the first protocol for that kind of thing. A runaround would have done just fine.

He thought about the way the woman had ruthlessly dragged her son and his boyfriend through pretty much every public experience known to man. 

Well, maybe not the runaround—but at least try a sternly worded letter of discouragement before death, right?

At his belt his pocket buzzed, three short bursts, like he’d programmed his phone to do with Ernie and Ernie alone.

See you tomorrow, Cruller. Can’t wait!

Burton blinked, and a buzz of excitement hit his stomach, like it had when he’d been deployed and action had been in the air. He didn’t ask if Ernie knew that for certain, and didn’t ask how he knew. 

Took Ernie on faith, which was the only way to take his flaky, witchy, sexy as hell boyfriend. 

Me neither. Love you.

Love you back.

Burton smiled softly at the phone, not feeling dumb in the least. One way or another, he would see Ernie tomorrow—and he was damned if he’d let grieving over friends ruin his homecoming.

He was going to get these guys and he was going to leave Rivers, Cramer, and the woman he was starting to think of as Lucy Satan in his rearview, safe as bunnies on his watch. 

MoonFish--Surprise Visit!--Part 6

Okay folks-- just the MoonFish tonight. Enjoy--

Surprise Visit! Part  6

The trip up was surprisingly quiet, and at first, Jackson thought it was just because the damned tank was so loud without the extra padding and insulation that Sonny and Ace had pulled out to make it slightly more fuel efficient.

Then he'd glanced in the rearview mirror and had seen Lucy Satan asleep, hands folded in her lap, head against the head rest, perfectly composed like a vampire.

But vulnerable still.

He felt bad for a moment. Ellery's mother didn't deserve a hit out on her--but then, she was fighting the same people in court that Jackson and Ellery had fought on the ground that winter, so maybe what she deserved and what was happening had no relation whatsoever.

"What?" Ellery practically shouted in his ear.

Jackson just shook his head, unwilling to tell Ellery that his mother looked helpless, because as far as Ellery was concerned, Lucy Satan was invulnerable and perfect, and Jackson didn't ever want to change that for him. He felt like it was wrong on a cellular level, to let Ellery think his mother could be harmed.

They made it to Kaden and Rhonda's house, which was back in a little development called SugarBaker's Cove. The houses were on four to five acre plots, most of the plots filled with dense woodland beyond whatever yard development the homeowner implemented. Some people had four acres of swimming pools and tennis courts, but Kaden and Rhonda weren't rich, only prudent. They had a backyard big enough for the kids to play kickball in, and a lot of fucking trees.

Kaden and Rhonda, and their children, River and Diamond, were out in front, nervously pacing as they pulled up. Two ginormous fucking Boxer/Mastiff hybrid dogs were sitting patiently at their heels, waiting for the occasional pet so they could slobber on whoever offered.

"Uncle Jackson!" River had grown. She was, what? Eleven this year? A beauty like her mother, she wore her hair back in thick braids, and had gotten tall enough for Jackson to rest his chin on her crown when he lowered his head.

"Hey, pretty girl," he murmured. "What's going on? You haven't found him yet?"

River shook her head and wiped her eyes. "He was weird all week, like freaking out and crying and Mom and Dad couldn't get him to talk and this morning we were supposed to go to school and he was gone before we woke up!"

"It's a good day at school!" her brother Diamond told him. "We get treats and stuff, but maybe not..." He looked at his sister nervously. "Maybe not in the seventh or eighth grade."

"WE get them in the sixth grade," River sniffed. "I don't see why Anthony wouldn't get them in the seventh."

Anthony had started out as a lonely kid who'd taken a job to bug Jackson and Ellery's car. But once Jackson grabbed him--and realized that the one witness to the transaction had been killed--he'd become a witness in need of protection. Kaden and Rhonda had stepped up because Jackson had asked them to--and because the police didn't see the need at first.

But Anthony--who'd been a foster child most of his life--had fit into the Cameron household like he'd been born into it. Kaden and Rhonda had asked if they could take over his fostering, and had been looking into an actual adoption--and the happy ever after that Anthony had cynically believed would never happen to him.

Jackson had no idea what would make the kid take off and leave. Except...

"Don't report cards come out today?" he asked the kids.

"Yeah." Diamond looked at his father. "I don't get real grades yet," he said ingratiatingly, "but if I did, I'm sure they would be A's." His smile--wide and white against the ebony of his skin--was extra sugary sweet.

Kaden rolled his eyes and looked at Jackson. "I so believe that," he muttered.

"Yeah, that totally wasn't a line." Jackson tried to look sternly at his nephew, but Diamond's smirk was just so transparent he couldn't. "God, kid, you'd better get your act together for seventh grade."

Diamond laughed outright. "Well, yeah. They use percentages and letter grades in seventh grade. I know bad things happen to people who can't figure that out!"

The laughter relaxed the little family for just a moment, and then they sobered.

"Well," Ellery's mother said, a big bag of all sorts of treasures over her shoulder, "I'm sure you can completely explain to me why it's okay to not do your best in school when you're obviously smart enough to fool the system, but in the meantime, how about I take you children inside and we make some breakfast and let the adults try to find your foster brother."

"Our brother," River said fiercely. "He says 'foster brother' like he's afraid he's going to get moved to another home, and we keep trying to tell him we want him forever." She pulled away from Jackson to look at him with pleading in her eyes. "Uncle Jackson, we're the only home he's ever had. I don't even know where he thinks he'd go."

Jackson nodded. "I would bet he's not far away," he said softly. In fact, he'd put actual money on it. "Go in with Lucy... uh, Mrs. Cramer, and see what she's got for you." He met Lucy Satan's eyes and she nodded. "She came from a long ways away just to bring you good things."

Lucy nodded and disappeared with the children inside, and Rhonda gave a sigh of relief.

"Oh good, they're gone now, and I can tell you we are losing our fucking minds. Jesus, Jackson, where in the hell could that kid go?" Her eyes got bright again, like they had when they'd pulled up. "He was so happy until about a week ago, and he started slinking around like he was afraid we were going to drop the hammer on him at any moment. I caught him crying when I went to tuck him in, and he said he was just sad, but it's got to be something."

Jackson nodded. "I, uh...look. I've got an idea." He pulled out his phone and punched some buttons. "And better yet, I've got a tracker on him."

Kaden's mouth fell open. "YOu've got a what?"

Jackson shrugged. "Remember? I bought him that phone when I brought him up here. He took it with him, right?"

They both nodded. "Doesn't go anywhere without it," Rhonda said. "Those games you let him buy are like his favorite things."

Jackson smiled a little. "Does he have a charger?" he asked, and Kaden clapped his hand over his eyes.

"He's got my charger! It disappeared last night!"

"I bet he packed a lunch too," Jackson said.

Rhonda--who was Kaden's smarter half--looked at Jackson compassionately. "What is this about?"

"You guys, grades are coming out. This kid hasn't had you for parents very long--how good do you think his grades are going to be?"

Kaden groaned and pinned Jackson with a frustrated glare. "Oh Jesus--I should have known."

"Kaden," Rhonda said kindly, "it's not your fault--how would you--"

"Oh, trust me," Kaden muttered. "I'd know. Well, Jackson, where is he?"

"Let me go find him," Jackson said. "I... you know. I've got a little experience with this."

"Text us when you see him. I need to go have a heart attack."

"Yeah--he's somewhere in the backyard."

"We've been back there--we spent the morning with the dogs going through the area. There's nothing there but trees."  Kaden looked at the dogs. "By the way, you two were a terrible disappointment in the search and rescue department. I thought you liked that kid."

The dogs looked up at him, tongues lolling, and waited for more pets.

"Morons," Kaden muttered.

"Anubis, Orion, door!" Rhonda commanded crisply, and the dogs ran to the front porch and turned around, ruffs bristling, eyes alert for any danger.

"Yeah, honey. They're the dumb ones," she said sweetly. Then, to Jackson, "You can find him?"

"I promise," he said. "But maybe let me go alone."

Ellery grabbed his hand. "Alone?"

Jackson winked at him. "Trust me. We'll be fine."

There wasn't a hit on Anthony anymore, and the more people around Ellery's mother the better.

Ellery kissed his cheek and let him go, and Jackson kept his eye on his phone and sauntered around to the backyard.

Kaden wasn't kidding about it being a lot of fucking trees, but some trees are more memorable to an agile twelve-year-old than others, and Jackson spotted the appropriate tree immediately, then went to stand near the bottom.

"Anthony," he called, looking up, "would you care to explain?"

He wanted to yell--he really did. The kid had dragged him and Ellery out of bed, had scared his entire family, had caused all sorts of trouble, and dammit, over a report card?

But Jackson looked into the kid's tear ravaged face as he peered down from about twenty-feet, and couldn't even be mad. He'd been that kid before. So surprised that anybody would even give a shit about his grades that he couldn't figure out how to fix them before he let that person down.

"You can't tell them," he said, hiccuping. "You can't."

"Yeah, kid. Sure. Here--I'm coming up."  It wasn't a bad climb, really. Jackson was wearing a sweatshirt in deference to the coolness of the hills near Truckee and his jeans were relatively hole free. With a jump and a pull and some scrambling, he managed to make it as high as the kid was, and he stood, holding on to the trunk of the pine tree, wondering if he was going to have to cut his hair to get all the sap out.

Anthony had curly brown hair that framed his pale face, and a lot of that was matted together with pine tar. Poor kid was probably going to miss that hair when Rhonda had to shave it to his scalp.

"So," Jackson said conversationally when he'd caught his breath, "what class are you flunking?"

Anthony looked at him with red-rimmed eyes and a wobbling lip. "All... all... all of them!" He burst into sobs, leaning up against the trunk of the tree by Jackson's knees, and Jackson reached down and stroked his sap-sticky hair.

"Oh kid," he said softly. "Why wouldn't you tell them? Rhonda's a teacher--"

"She's a teacher," Anthony wailed, "and I'm stupid! And how could they want me if I'm stupid--"

Jackson sighed and scrambled down to a sitting position, on a limb about two feet lower than Anthony's. "You're not stupid," he said softly. "You just had other things on your mind these last few years. Which home you were going to, whether you'd have clothes or food, whether your next set of parents would be dicks--man, you've had a full plate."

"But everything's perfect now," Anthony hiccuped. "And I"m a loser who can't pass math! Or English! Or history! Or science!"

"You passing PE?" Jackson asked, hoping for a win.

"I keep forgetting my shoes," Anthony said glumly, and Jackson held back a smile.

"Well, yeah, some years are like that. Look. Anthony?"

Anthony stared at his tennis shoe as it dangled over the ground. "Yeah?"

"You had a raw deal. And you lost out on a lot of school. It's March, and you didn't start school until December, and your life was so damned up in the air. You missed out on stuff. That's not your fault. But Kaden and Rhonda can't help you if you don't tell them what's wrong. Bet you had progress reports, didn't you?"

Anthony nodded. "They're the old fashioned ones that come in the mail," he muttered.

"And that's why computer grades were invented. Believe me, nobody's going to make that mistake again. And that's fine."

"But I"ll have to repeat eighth grade! River and I will have to graduate at the same time and that's embarrassing!" he said. "I mean, she's my sister and I don't have anything to teach her. She knows everything and I'm so fucking stupid--"

"Okay, we're done with that word," Jackson said firmly. "Not stupid. You needed help. And of course you were afraid to ask for it--nobody's ever stepped up to help you before. But man, I've got to tell you that those people I just met in front of the house weren't worried about your grades, they were worried about you. River told Mrs. Cramer she couldn't call you her foster brother--she had to call you her brother. Because they love you, kid. And loving someone means forgiving them when they screw up. Screwing up is what people do. But if you're afraid to admit it to the people you love, you'll never see how much they love you, you understand?"

Anthony nodded. "You think they love me?" he asked sadly.

"You love them, don't you?" Jackson stroked his head again and wished heartily to get out of the damned tree.

"Yeah." Anthony actually looked at him--and then wiped his nose on the sleeve of his T-shirt. "How did you know?"

"Because, kid--you couldn't even run that far. You just climbed a tree where you could see the house. Did you even have a plan here?"

Anthony's stomach grumbled. "I was going to sneak back in after dinner and come back out to the tree," he confessed.

Jackson started to laugh. "That, son, is the shittiest plan in the world."

After a moment, Anthony snorted, like he hadn't been planning to laugh but it had just snuck out anyway. "It really is. See--I told you I was stu--"

"Shut up, kid. Not stupid. New. I was new once. Kaden's mom taught me how to be loved. I'm not great at it, but she taught Kaden everything he knows. You're smarter than I was at your age. I'm sure you'll catch on faster than I did, okay?"

Anthony nodded. "Okay. Thanks, Jackson."

Jackson's pocket phone buzzed, and off in the distance, up in another tree, he saw the flash of what could have been a rifle scope. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and read the text.

Get out of the fucking tree, Rivers, you are giving my boss the heebie-jeebies just watching over you.

Jackson rolled his eyes. Fucking Burton.

I am talking the kid down here. Are there any hit men nearby?

No. Apparently hit men don't know how to react to a fucking tank. They followed you until Roseville and buggered out. But we're here, and you need to get out of the fucking tree.

Jackson snorted and put the phone back in his pocket. "Anthony?"

"Yeah?"

"Hows about we get out of the fucking tree?"

Anthony took a breath that was mostly snot. "Jackson?"

"Yeah?"

"I don't know how."

Jackson let out a cackle. "Okay. So, here's what we're going to do. I'm going to lower myself down to the next branch, and you are going to follow my lead. Think we can do that?"

"Yeah. What about my backpack?"

"Put it on your back, kid. Let's get down."

It took them twenty minutes of breathless swearing and a bunch of scrapes on their hands and one on Jackson's cheek, but they eventually got down. By the time they landed, they'd alerted the people in the house, and there was a crowd around the base of the tree, ready to help Anthony into the house and get him warmed up--and cleaned up--and to discuss a shitton of summer school. Jackson only guessed at that last part, but he figured Rhonda and Kaden would have a contingency plan for a kid who hadn't taken the time to learn how to be a kid.

Jackson finally dropped to the ground and only Ellery was there, but he had a warm wash cloth for Jackson's scrapes and the promise of coffee in the house.

"What was the problem?" he asked quietly as everybody went inside, the babble ensuring that Anthony would be king for the day.

"Was failing all his classes," Jackson said. "Poor kid. I was him once."

Ellery nodded. Jackson had told him how Jade and Kaden's mother had made him make up a semester's worth of work in a week so Jackson could graduate on to high school. "Did you tell him that story?" he asked curiously.

"No. I needed to listen to his story--I mean, we're grownups. It feels like the same story to us, but to him, it was brand new."

Ellery nodded quietly, and then, before they could get to the porch he stopped and pulled Jackson down for a kiss. It was tender and carnal at once, and it reminded Jackson at all the lessons he still had to learn about accepting love, as well as of the fact that he and Ellery hadn't had time alone in their own house for three days.

But mostly it reminded Jackson that he was loved, and he was grateful for it.

"That was a good kiss, Counselor."

"You're a good man, Detective."

They both felt Jackson's pocket buzz, and Jackson grimaced.

"Who is it?" Ellery asked curiously.

Nice. Now get the fuck inside so I can get my boss out of his damned tree and give him a sedative. You people are driving him batshit.

"Burton says hi," Jackson told him without inflection.

"Really? He followed us up here?"

"He'd really like us to go inside now and stop climbing trees," Jackson added.

Ellery's eyes grew big. "Anything else?"

"We owe Sonny and Ace big money for the tank."

"Fantastic. Are you driving back?"

"Yes," Jackson told him. Ellery didn't even want to touch the tank. "Why?"

"Think Kaden and Rhonda have any alcohol?"

Jackson laughed as they hit the porch. "You don't day drink!" he protested.

"Oh I am about to start."

Jackson kept laughing. Yeah, sure, Ellery threatened a lot, but Jackson was pretty sure he wouldn't have missed that morning for the world.