Point Pleasant (15 page)

“I’ll come,” Ben said. “If you want.”

“This is
not
how I wanted this night to go.”

“You think I’m that easy?” Ben deadpanned.

“Of course not,” Nicholas replied, his eyes widening at the implication, but Ben winked to indicate he was teasing.

They donned their coats in the entry hall, and Ben followed Nicholas outside.

“Does it hurt?” Ben asked.

Nicholas gave a slight grumble as he locked the door and led the way to the Sheriff’s Department. Ben trailed behind as Nicholas entered the station and nodded in greeting to the uniformed officer at reception. The man was older and had a grumpy air about him, but he stood at full attention when he saw the sheriff.

“Evening, Sheriff,” he said. Alarm overtook his features as he took in Nicholas’ tensed shoulders and pained grimace. “You don’t look so good.”

“Think I blew out my eardrum,” Nicholas said, and his voice was louder than he probably realized. “Where’s Ford?”

The older officer furrowed his brow, which exacerbated the deep wrinkles on his sun-damaged forehead. Without a word, he disappeared down a corridor. He reemerged a moment later with Daniel, who strode forward with an easy confidence that Ben envied.

“What the hell happened to you?” Daniel asked when he stepped around the front desk to inspect the damage.

“Blew out my eardrum, I think. Went to make a call, got this loud noise on the other end, and now it’s ringing like a motherfucker.”

Daniel pulled a flashlight off his duty belt and shone the light into Nicholas’ ear. “A call on your landline?”

Nicholas nodded.

“What the hell makes a noise loud enough to perforate an eardrum over the phone?” Daniel asked, but he faltered when he noticed Ben for the first time. Daniel’s eyes narrowed as he gave Ben a doubtful once-over.

“He’s with me,” Nicholas said, his tone dismissive.

Daniel eased at the sheriff’s vouch for Ben’s presence. “Nice to see you, Ben.”

“You too, Daniel,” Ben said and tried a polite smile. The deputy offered a brief nod before he returned his attention to Nicholas.

“Well, Sheriff,” Daniel started, “it doesn’t look too bad, but I don’t really have the equipment to check it thoroughly. I can give you something for the pain. You should probably check in with the doc in the morning, though. Get her to give you some antibiotics to be on the safe side of a possible infection.”

“Great,” Nicholas sighed. “Give me a second, and I’ll join you.”

Daniel headed to a room in the back of the station.

“Listen, if you wanna go home, I don’t mind,” Nicholas said, facing Ben. “But this shouldn’t take long.”

“I’ll wait,” Ben said.

“Thank you,” Nicholas said, and the relief that crossed his features was proof that he probably would have minded very much if Ben left. “I’ll be back in a few.”

Ben lingered by the front desk and realized the officer at reception was observing him with a frown.

“Didn’t we have you in a holding cell earlier?” he asked.

“Yeah.” Ben flustered under the man’s stolid condescension. “Hi. Again.”

The officer resumed his paperwork with a disinterested roll of his eyes. Ben’s phone rang in his pocket, and he pulled it out. Kate’s name flashed on the caller ID.

“I’m just gonna go outside,” he said, but the officer ignored him.
Okay.

Ben slipped out of the Sheriff’s Department and answered his phone on the third ring. “Katie?”

“Benji, you out yet?”

“Katie, you saved my ass,” Ben said. “Thank you.”

“I hope you mean that figuratively,” Kate said, scoffing. “Or did you have a cellmate? Was he big? Tell me everything.”

“You’re hilarious,” Ben said. “I was alone.”

“Did you pay the fine?”

“Yeah, all clear. Had a drink with Nic, everything’s good now.”

“That was fast. You couldn’t have made nice
before
he arrested you?”

“Yeah, yeah. It’s complicated.”

“I’m sure it is. Just try to behave and don’t tell anyone else Dad’s stupid story. You’ve gotta stop letting him dictate your life, Ben. You never see him, but you still let him rule over you.”

Ben stood in silent agreement with his sister.

“What, no snide remark?” Kate asked.

“Not when it’s true.”

“What the hell are you doing in West Virginia anyway?” she asked after a beat of silence. “I couldn’t believe it when Margaret told me. I was sure she got the message mixed up and Dad was in the drunk tank or something.”

“I dunno. I just finally thought it was a good idea.”

“Are you sick or something?” she asked. There was a lilt of humor to her voice, but her concern sounded genuine.

“I’m fine, Katie.”

“How is it being back home, then?”

“Weird at first,” Ben said and shoved one of his hands into his coat pocket to fight off the cold. “Then I got arrested.”

“Sounds about right,” Kate replied and laughed.

“You’re enjoying this entirely too much.”

“I’m not the one who spent the evening behind bars, Benji.”

“You haven’t lived, Katie,” Ben said, sounding wistful, and Kate giggled.

“Are you going to be there long? I’ll be in Boston in a few weeks to meet with a client.”

“I’m not sure, actually,” Ben said. “I guess I’ll have to let you know.”

“You do that. Maybe I can fly down to West Virginia if you’re still around those parts. See you
and
Dad.”

“Sounds like a reunion.”

“Yeah,” Kate laughed. “Like getting the band back together. Listen, I’ve gotta go. You stay out of trouble, little brother. Try not to find any more dead farmers.”

“I’ll certainly try,” Ben said. He saw a flash of Freemont’s bloated, blue face and stifled a groan as he forced the memory from his mind. “Thanks again.”

“That’s what I’m here for, I guess.”

“Say hi to David for me. Bye, Katie.”

“Yeah,” Kate replied distractedly as if she had already turned back to whatever deposition she was working on despite it being almost ten o’clock and well past office hours. “Bye, Benji.”

Cold wind bit at the nape of Ben’s neck. He hung up and stared down at his phone for a moment. His thoughts wandered to the kiss in the kitchen, and he let out a deep breath. The lucid part of his brain, now less fazed by alcohol and lust, was a jumble of confused emotions.

Was this all wrong? Was he leaving himself too open? He had no idea how long he would be in town, after all. Or if he would have a reason to stay longer than even he had anticipated. Nicholas had changed dramatically since Ben had last seen him on the sidewalk in front of the Wisehart house so many years ago.

The door to the Sheriff’s Department swished as it opened, and Ben turned. Nicholas trotted down the front steps.

“Hey, van Gogh.”

Nicholas snickered as he drew closer. “I still have my earlobe, Wiseass. This is
really
not how I imagined this night to go.”

Ben’s chest thrummed with the same warmth from earlier as Nicholas uttered the nickname he had once used on an almost-daily basis when they were in high school. “Watch it, Boy Scout. Tell me, did whatever plan you had for tonight always involve you arresting me beforehand?”

“Hey, I have a duty to uphold the law,” Nicholas said, but his grin betrayed the serious air he attempted to affect.

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s get you home, Sheriff.”

Nicholas seemed to consider Ben as they rounded the corner onto to Dunmore. “You should stay,” he said. “At my place. Tonight.”

Ben shifted under the weight of the offer. “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

“No? Well, to be honest, I don’t think I’ll be on my feet for much longer. Ford gave me something light for the pain. And with the beer—I just,” Nicholas faltered for his words. “It would be nice if you stayed. We still need to order that pizza, and I could make you breakfast in the morning. For the trouble.”

“Look at you,” Ben said. “Trying to win me over with food.”

“I’d like to think I still know you pretty well.”

When they reached the front gate that led to the sheriff’s house, Ben grappled with a response. Nicholas offered the same smile he had used earlier when he had asked Ben to join him for dinner, and Ben’s resolve buckled.

“Yeah, okay,” he said finally.
So much for being careful.
“I’ll stay. But
only
because I’m worried about your ear.”

Nicholas beamed, and his eyes shone with something that made Ben’s heart flutter. “I’ll take it,” he said, though they both knew Ben would have stayed anyway. “Come on, then.”

Once inside, Nicholas locked the door and rehung their coats. He headed into the living room and peered around for his phone before he picked it up from where Ben had tossed it on the sofa.

Ben felt a wary tug at the corner of his mind when Nicholas hesitated with the phone.

“I’m not really in the mood for pizza.”

“Same here, actually,” Nicholas replied. Silence flooded the short distance between them. “You wanna go to bed?”

Ben nodded.

Nicholas held out his right hand. Ben took it, registered the coarseness of Nicholas’ palm, and followed him upstairs.

“We haven’t had a sleepover in a million years,” Nicholas said.

“Oh, yeah,” Ben said. “This is
just
like old times.”

Nicholas grinned and led Ben into the bedroom. He flicked on the light as they entered. The room was large, and Ben smiled at the made bed. “Still a neat freak, I see.”

“Cleanliness is next to godliness, I’m told.”

“If you say so.”

Nicholas bit his lower lip, and Ben was transfixed. The sheriff stood at a proximity that was wholly intimate, but he did not make contact.

“I want to kiss you again,” Nicholas whispered, and Ben relished the other man’s warm breath against his cheek.

“Then kiss me, Sheriff.”

Nicholas’ eyes widened at the name, now spoken with fond affection, and he quickly closed the gap between them to press his lips to Ben’s in as firm a caress as before. He pulled Ben close, and Ben drank in Nicholas’ warmth as he returned the kiss.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Nicholas whispered when he pulled away.

“Me too,” Ben said with an earnestness that surprised him.

Nicholas started to undress, his movements casual as he unbuttoned his shirt. Nicholas’ tall build had always been more athletic than Ben’s, but seeing the boy of his every adolescent fantasy all grown up with his shirt open was almost too much for Ben to process.

This is going to be a long night.

Ben unknotted the tie around his neck, though his gaze lingered on Nicholas as he shrugged off his shirt. There was a small patch of scar tissue on Nicholas’ naked left shoulder. “What’s that?” Ben asked, nodding to what had obviously been a relatively serious wound.

Nicholas glanced down and let out a weak laugh. “Haven’t you heard how I was made sheriff?”

Ben unbuttoned his shirt, but he kept on the white undershirt and pretended not to notice that Nicholas eyed his every move. “No,” he replied. “Tell me.”

Nicholas reached down to unbuckle his belt before he unzipped his jeans. “Mayor Stewart was shot at a few years ago,” he said. “Remember old farmer Padgett?”

“That racist asshole?” Ben asked.

Dale Padgett had run the largest apple orchard in Mason County. Ben recalled an eventful Harvest Festival from his teenage years in which an especially inebriated Padgett used a term so offensive to refer to his daughter, Shirley—who he claimed had betrayed their family’s good name with her marriage to Tucker—that a chorus of gasps had erupted throughout the crowded square. The former Sheriff Nolan had intervened before Tucker could take a well-deserved swing at the other man’s wrinkled, sun-hardened face, and Padgett had spent the night in the drunk tank.

A grim expression settled over Nicholas’ face. “He didn’t take kindly to a black mayor and saw fit to try and shoot Silas during his swearing in ceremony.”

“Are you serious?”

Nicholas nodded in confirmation. He slipped out of his jeans so that he was clad only in his boxers. They were tight and black, and Ben felt guilty for admiring them.

Ben stepped out of his pants as Nicholas climbed up onto the mattress and kneeled there.

“So what happened?” Ben asked when he moved onto the bed to mimic Nicholas’ position.

“I saw the gun just before Padgett fired. Dove in front of the bullet, took it to the shoulder. My dad was there. Shot Padgett in the heart. He retired a few months later, and Stewart insisted I be made sheriff for my ‘outstanding act of heroism.’”

Nicholas shrugged as if it was not a big deal, but there was an edge of self-loathing to his recitation of the words. Ben recognized the tone instantly; he used it often enough himself.

“You could have been killed,” Ben said, digesting the recount.

“Then I would have died saving someone else. I’m okay with that.”

“Jesus,” Ben whispered. He reached out and brushed his fingertips along the scar. Nicholas closed his eyes at the touch, but he tensed uncomfortably at the attention. Ben cleared his throat and withdrew. “How’s your ear?”

“The painkillers just kicked in.”

Ben noticed the way Nicholas’ eyelids drooped as he spoke. “You should go to sleep.”

Nicholas kicked back the top cover. He slipped underneath it and kept it open for Ben to do the same. Ben waited until Nicholas had positioned his head comfortably before he slid down against the pillow on the other side of the bed.

“Ben,” Nicholas said, and his eyelashes fluttered.

“Yeah, Nic?”

Nicholas’ eyes drifted shut, and he sighed. Ben reached over and flicked the switch beside the bed to turn off the overhead light. He was careful not to disturb Nicholas when he settled down beside him.

“You should stay,” Nicholas mumbled. The steady intake of breath a moment later told Ben that Nicholas was asleep.

In the faint moonlight that shone from the window over the bed, Ben watched the other man’s form rise and fall with his every inhale and exhale. He wondered if Nicholas would be as candid the next morning.