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“Hello,” Len said stiffly as he stepped onto the porch. 135

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“Hello,” Pete responded cautiously. “Mind if we talk out here?”

With a short laugh, Len shook his head. “Don’t blame you, after how I acted earlier.” He sat on one of the steps and gestured to the space next to him. “Have a seat.”

Pete did, although Trevor remained standing, propping himself up on a porch support post.

“I’m…ah, sorry about what happened,” Len told them, leaning his elbows on his knees and staring out over the lawn. “I’m not normally like that.”

“Thank you,” Pete said. “Mind telling us what the problem was?”

Len looked over his shoulder at Danny, who had boosted himself onto the porch railing. “Dan, go inside, would you?”

“No.” Danny’s face set. “I went and got them. I want to hear.”

“Inside!” Len barked. “Now.”

There was a tense moment as the two stared at each other, neither looking away nor blinking. Finally, Danny made an impatient noise and jumped down. He slammed his way into the house and Len turned back around.

“A few months ago,” Len began quietly, “I began to wonder if Danny was…” His hands moved, as if they were trying to grasp the right word.

“Gay?” Pete offered.

“Shh!” Len hissed at him, shooting a glance at the closed front door. Trevor made a noise suspiciously close to a snort. “I think Danny knows the word.”

Pete cleared his throat. “What made you think that?”

“I put one of those tracking devices on his computer,” Len said slowly, the tips of his ears darkening in the glow of the porch light. “You know, one that shows what websites he’s been going to? It takes a screenshot every few minutes. He’d been looking at…”

When he trailed off, Trevor offered, “Hot-bear-hunting-dot-com?”

Resisting the urge to kick him, Pete just shot him a “shut-up” glare and turned back to Len. “Have you talked to him about it?”

“No!” Len stared at him. “How do I talk to him about
that
?”

“I don’t know,” Pete said, trying hard to keep the bitter sarcasm from his words.

“Maybe, ‘Son, are you gay?’ If he is, you could always tell him it’s okay, that you love him, that you accept him for the person he is, that you’d rather have
him
as your kid than this imaginary son who you made up in your head who likes girls and beats up on gay kids.”

Len was shaking his head, staring at the ground. “I tried so hard. When my wife died, Danny was only three. I should’ve dated more, remarried. He needed a woman around, obviously.” His whole body slumped in defeat. “I loved her so much though. I couldn’t look at anyone else. I tried to be enough for him.”

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“You didn’t cause him to be gay,” Pete told him. “He just is. If your wife had lived, he’d still be gay. If you remarried, he’d be gay.”

“But what if it’s not too late?” He looked up at Pete with a desperate hope. “There are camps for kids like him, right?”

“No,” Pete snapped. “There are camps for parents like
you
, who’d rather make your kid hate himself than just accept your son is gay.”

The hope faded from Len’s gaze and he looked away from Pete. “I don’t know if I can do that—just accept it.”

Looking at the stubborn jaw of the man sitting next to him, something cracked inside Pete. “Well, you have no fucking choice.” He stood abruptly. Len looked up at him, startled.

“You’re his father,” Pete bit out. “Unconditional love is part of the deal. You can’t just stop because he likes dicks instead of boobs.”

“I love him,” Len protested, pushing to his feet and standing toe-to-toe with Pete.

“He’s my son—of course I love him.”

“What about everything you said before—‘homo’ and ‘fairy’?” Pete demanded. “Is that what you call someone you love?”

“I didn’t call
him
that!” Len’s voice was getting louder.

“Y-you did!” His voice was betraying him again. Pete took a breath before saying more quietly, “Every time you say those things, you say them to him. What is he supposed to believe? That you hate all gay people
except
for him?”

Jerking back as if struck, Len sputtered, “I don’t…I don’t hate gay people.”

“Danny said you do,” Pete told him. “I doubt if he thinks he’s the exception.”

Len stared at him and then sat heavily on the step. “He’s my son. He knows I love him.” There was no certainty in his words.

“Pete,” Trevor said quietly, taking his hand. “We should go.”

“Just a moment,” Pete told him before turning back to Len. “Did anything happen?

Between Greg and Danny?”

The shock in Len’s expression as he looked up answered the question before he even spoke. “Greg and…? No, of course not! Why would you even ask that? I mean, I didn’t agree with the way Greg slept around or how he treated Michelle, but he was no child molester. That’s just sick!”

“I didn’t think so.” Pete started to turn away and then faced Len again. “I’m not either, by the way.”

“You’re not what?” Len raised his gaze to Pete’s. He looked tired.

“A child molester. What you said earlier…”

Len waved away the rest of Pete’s sentence. “I know. I never really thought you were.”

“So why this?” Pete gestured toward the bruise on his jaw. 137

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“I don’t know,” Len sighed. “You two just kind of brought it all to a head. I’d talked myself into thinking his web surfing was just curiosity, a stage he’d grow out of, and then you two moved in across the street. Two attractive men, living together, working outside with their shirts off, kissing…” Staring across the street at Pete’s house, where Rhodes and Wash waited on the front porch, Len shook his head. “I could tell Danny was fascinated by you. It bugged the shit out of me that you were making it look so easy.”

“Making what look so easy?” Pete asked.

“Being gay.”

“It’s not easy,” Pete told him. “It’s hard. Danny already knows that. He doesn’t have a choice, so don’t make it harder. You’re his dad. Act like it.”

Len gave a grudging nod and Pete turned to go, Trevor next to him. As they walked back to the house, Trevor put his arm around Pete’s back, giving his shoulder a squeeze.

“I don’t know if I did any good just now,” Pete muttered.

“You did,” Trevor assured him. “Plus I think you eliminated one suspect, at least.”

“Yeah.” Pete shot a quick look over his shoulder at Len, who still sitting where they’d left him, watching them walk away. “I think his denial was pretty genuine, don’t you?”

Trevor nodded. “Yeah. He might not be the greatest dad but at least he didn’t kill Greg.”

With a short laugh, Pete told him, “When you put it like that, it sounds like something you’d put on a gravestone.”

Trevor gave an amused snort. “Think we’re a little punchy.”

As they climbed the porch steps, Rhodes and Wash moved in close.

“Thought we were going to have to ride to the rescue at one point, Petey,” Wash told him.

“What? Just because they were yelling at each other with their noses two inches apart?” Trevor scoffed.

“We weren’t yelling,” Pete protested.

Wash rolled his eyes. “Please. If your faces were any closer you would’ve been kissing.”

Pete shook his head. “Not Len. Pretty much any other male in this neighborhood though.”

“The kid’s gay.” The way Rhodes said it—as a statement rather than a question—

made Pete cock his head.

“You guessed?”

Rhodes gave a short nod. “Little too interested in watching you and Trev together.”

“True,” Wash agreed. “A straight kid would’ve been in Marsha’s tree, not yours.”

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Looking toward the front door longingly, Pete asked, “Mind if we go inside to talk?” He really didn’t want to hang out on the porch, looking across the street at Len.

“Sure.” Wash held the door and they made their way inside.

“Fuck,” Trevor sighed, sitting heavily in his camp chair. “What I wouldn’t give for a couch right now.”

“Want to shop for beds tomorrow after we get the lawn under control?” Pete offered.

“While you do that, we can start on the floors down here,” Rhodes offered. Wash’s head snapped around to stare at him. “‘We’, darling Rhodie? That would be you and who else? Do you have some hottie on the side who refinishes floors between blowjobs?”

“’Course not,” Rhodes told him, a smile tugging on one side of his mouth. “You’re the only one I let refinish my floors.”

Wash laughed. “How reassuring.” He stretched out a leg so he could bump his foot against Rhodes’. “Ass,” he said fondly.

Rhodes just smiled at him. Pete looked back and forth between the two. They were so easy with each other, so settled. He’d never had that—fuck, he’d never even
known
a relationship like that. It warmed him just listening to their banter, the undertones of affection. It made him feel safe.

He shook off the thought. “You don’t have to keep working on the house,” Pete told them. Both men looked at him in surprise.

“Is that your way of telling us to get out?” Wash asked, sounding amused.

“No! Of course not,” Pete insisted, flustered. “I just thought… Don’t you have a business to run?”

“We’re on vacation,” Rhodes said, stretching his legs in front of him. “Cleared up all the urgent cases and gave Carlos the week off.”

“You’re wasting your vacation babysitting me?” Trevor asked. “In a house with no furniture?”

“Best vacation we’ve ever been on,” Wash told him, grinning. Rhodes cleared his throat. “
Only
vacation we’ve ever been on.”

Flapping a shushing hand at him, Wash shook his head. “Don’t listen to him. He’s loving this do-it-yourself shit. Plus there’s a murder, we get to keep an eye on Trevor
and
meet his new boyfriend. It’s Rhodie’s vacation wet-dream.”

With a snort, Rhodes scoffed, “Like you’re not loving this too.”

“Of course I am,” Wash agreed. “Murder, paint fumes, power tools, Trev’s bare ass… It’d be anyone’s vacation wet-dream.”

“Okay,” Trevor said. “That’s enough about my bare ass.”

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“Speaking of the murder…” Pete changed the subject, flushing. Just the mention of Trevor’s naked bits was enough to start a slow burn in his groin. “I asked Len if he thought there’d been something between Greg and Danny.”

“Yeah?” Wash sat forward.

“He was pretty sure there hadn’t been,” Trevor told him.

“You believe him?” Rhodes asked.

Trevor shrugged and looked at Pete. “He sounded sincere.” Pete nodded. Wash sat back, looking disappointed. “If it’d been true, that would’ve been such a good motive for Len to cut off Greg’s dick.”

“At least it narrows the field a little,” Pete said. “Now we’re down to Marsha, Michelle and Terrance for suspects—at least in the neighborhood.”

“Don’t forget the wife,” Rhodes told him.

“He said her already,” Trevor reminded him. “Michelle.”

“Not Michelle,” Rhodes said. “Terrance’s wife. What’s her name?”

“Abby,” Pete said. “Right. Forgot about Abby.”

Trevor looked thoughtful. “I think Abby gets forgotten a lot.”

With a snort, Wash said, “Especially by her husband, when he’s got a dick up his ass.”

Pete stared at him. “You’re right. I’d totally dismissed her as a suspect. I need to talk to Abby. Trev, you should come with me—you two bonded over tomatoes.”

“Sure,” Trevor agreed. “We should probably give the hot sheriff a call too and give him an update on what we know.”

Scowling, Pete asked, “Do you have to call him that?”

Wash snickered. Even Rhodes’ cough sounded as if it were covering a laugh. Trevor widened his eyes in mock-innocence. “Does that bother you?”

Giving him a glare that promised future retribution, Pete said evenly, “We’ll call the average-looking, definitely-not-more-than-a-six-and-a-half sheriff tomorrow morning.”

Rhodes, Wash and even Trevor laughed outright at that.

“So by six and a half,” Wash asked, “do you mean on a one-to-ten rating scale or the size of his—”

“Okay,” Rhodes interrupted, although he still looked amused. “Sounds like tomorrow’s filling up. We should probably get to bed.”

Wash frowned at him. “I’m just doing a little investigative questioning here.”

Standing up, Rhodes offered a hand to Wash and pulled him to his feet. When Wash was standing, Rhodes gave another sharp jerk of his hand and pulled Wash against him. Tipping his head forward, he said something in Wash’s ear. Pete could see Wash melt against the other man. His mouth was dry as he watched the intimate moment. Even though they were fully clothed and weren’t even kissing or 140

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doing much of anything except standing close together, desire was thick around them. Pete swallowed.

“You going to keep watching those two or do you want to go to bed?” Trevor growled in his ear. Startled, Pete turned his head to see Trevor’s face next to his. He was standing behind Pete, bent over so their heads were level. Trevor wrapped his arms around Pete’s shoulders.

“Bed,” Pete tried to say, although no sound managed to escape. Trevor must have understood him, however, since he smiled, a slow, hot, knowing smile. Unable to resist those curved lips, Pete touched his own mouth to them. Trevor stilled at the kiss, his small moment of dominance disappearing beneath Pete’s lips. Grabbing Trevor’s enfolding arms, he tugged, easily breaking the hold without interrupting the kiss.

Taking Trevor’s hand, Pete drew him around in front of him and tugged him onto his lap. Trevor came eagerly, sitting sideways across his thighs and diving into another kiss.

Wrapping one arm around his hips, Pete cupped the back of Trevor’s skull with his other hand and pulled him forward, meeting his lips roughly as a fresh surge of need drove through him. He nipped at Trevor’s lips until they opened on a gasp and then plunged his tongue inside. Trevor sucked at his tongue with an urgent moan and Pete’s hips bucked beneath the other man’s weight.

The thought of Rhodes and Wash watching made Pete break off the kiss and look around, but the other two men had vanished, turning off the light as they went. Pete heard a low laugh from upstairs and then a bedroom door shut with a definite click.
Privacy
, Pete thought with a rush of anticipation. “Stand up,” he said out loud. Trevor stared at him for a moment, his eyes confused and hot.