Shades of Gray (32 page)

250 | Brooke McKinley

The eyes Danny turned on Miller were blinding, so full of guilt that Miller had to look away. He leaned forward, elbows on knees, concentrating his gaze on a smashed pinecone between his shoes. “I’m still figuring that out,” he said. “How I’m going to live with it.”

“You shouldn’t have done it,” Danny whispered. “Not for me.” Miller had vowed that he would keep his temper in check, would ignore the anger that had been simmering since the moment Danny had let Madrigal take him away. But he couldn’t keep quiet, the horror of those moments rising up in him like it was happening all over again, leaving him broken and helpless.

“What about what you did for me? How could you do that, Danny?” he asked, impotent fury barely hidden behind his words.

“How could you have made that deal with Hinestroza?”

“I was trying to save your life.”

Miller shook his head. “It wouldn’t have saved me. It would have killed me if you’d died that day. Don’t you know that by now? It would have killed me.”

Danny closed his eyes, his fingers digging into his leg. “I wasn’t thinking about that. I was thinking about Ortiz and the debt I owed him.

And I was thinking about you, Miller. About finding a way that you could live free and not afraid.”

Miller coughed out a breath. “Do you still not get it? Not understand the way I feel about you?”

“Yeah, I get it,” Danny said, quiet and gentle. “But I don’t deserve it. And pretty soon you’re going to realize it too. That you’ve given up more than you’d be getting in return.”

“Oh, Jesus, Danny—”

“It’s true, Miller. Look at what you’ve sacrificed. Rachel, your job—”

“My job’s fine,” Miller said.

“No, it’s not,” Danny threw back. “I can tell by your face there’s more to that story.”

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Miller rolled his shoulders forward, hiding from Danny’s eyes.

“I’m on administrative leave,” he said after a long stretch of silence.

“So they’re going to fire you.”

“You don’t know that. It’ll be okay.”

“None of it’s okay!” Danny cried, his voice shaking. “I’m a fucking mess, Miller, and so are you.”

Miller didn’t deny it, every word Danny said was true. “What are we doing from here?” he asked. “With us?” But he already knew the answer, had known it the moment they’d hugged and Danny had been the first to pull away.

Danny reached out and ran his hand along Miller’s jaw, but even that wasn’t the same, the white bandages separating Danny’s flesh from his. Miller felt only stiff cotton, not warm skin. He closed his eyes, tried to breathe past the pain.

“You make me want to be a better man,” Danny said. “You make me want to be worthy of you, Miller. But if that’s ever going to stick, if it’s ever going to be real, I have to do it for me. I can’t do it just because it’s who you need me to be. It has to be who I need to be too.” Miller tried to speak but all that came out was a sob, his shoulders shaking with unshed tears. “Danny, please… you don’t have to prove anything to me.”

“Can you look at me right now, look in my eyes and tell me we can make this work, today?” Danny demanded, his own voice pinched with sorrow.

Miller didn’t answer, thoughts of his job, Colin, Rachel, and learning to live with the choices he’d made all floating through his mind in a sticky soup of pain.

“Because right now, I can’t say that,” Danny continued. “And I can’t live with myself if we try and fail because of me. I have to clean up my own life. And I think you need to clean up yours.”

“Is this about Griff?”

“God, no,” Danny said, yanking lightly on a lock of Miller’s hair.

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“It’s never been about Griff, not even before I knew you. It’s about you and me. You said you have to learn how to live with letting Hinestroza go. Well, I have to learn how to live with what I did. With who I was and what I made you give up.” Danny drew in a shaky breath. “Right now, being near you hurts too much.”

Miller wanted to tell Danny that it was all worth it, that everything he’d given up was nothing compared to Danny’s life. But he was nursing his own wounds; he didn’t know how to heal Danny’s too.

He’d never been good with offering comfort, always the first to look away from other people’s suffering. “What are you going to do?” he asked instead.

“I don’t know.”

“Is it over, Danny, between us?”

Danny didn’t answer, just leaned forward and kissed Miller’s eyebrow, his cheek, the corner of his mouth, his trembling lower lip. “I love you,” Danny whispered and then he was up and gone. Miller sat on the cold park bench and, for the second time in his life, watched Danny walk away. Only this time, he understood exactly what he was losing.

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“MATTHEW?”

“No.”

“Jacob?”

“Uh-uh.” Miller shifted against Danny’s body, drawing Danny’s
arms tighter across his bare chest. He’d never thought that two men
could fit together so easily, had always assumed only a woman could
be cradled the way Danny was holding him now. But it wasn’t true. His
back molded itself to Danny’s chest like they were two halves of the
same whole, his head resting comfortably on Danny’s shoulder,
Danny’s breath sighing against his temple.

“Just tell me your goddamn middle name. I’m never going to
come up with it,” Danny said, pushing against Miller’s naked thigh
with his own.

“Quitter,” Miller mocked. “Keep going.”

“Bernard?” Danny guessed, chuckling under his breath.

“Jesus, my parents weren’t that cruel.”

“Hard to tell, judging by your first name.”
Miller barked out a laugh, rolling over quickly to pin Danny
against the bed, using his hands as gentle shackles over Danny’s
wrists. “Asshole. It’s Edward. And Miller was my mother’s maiden
name.”

Danny smiled, his slow, sexy grin full of white teeth, the grin that
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made Miller’s stomach fall so hard he felt almost sick, the one that
made him crazy with wanting, like some teenage boy mooning over his
first love.

“Miller Edward Sutton,” Danny said quietly. “It’s a good name.”
He raised his head off the bed, arms still pinned next to his pillow, and
kissed Miller. Softly at first, then with more pressure, his tongue sliding
hot and wet, taunting a little, pulling back whenever Miller pushed
forward until Miller caught that teasing tongue with his own.

Miller released Danny’s wrists, bringing his own hands down to
run across Danny’s chest, thumbing his nipples lightly, then flicking
them with his tongue. His own breath hitched at the way Danny
moaned, lifting his chest off the bed to get closer to Miller’s mouth.

Miller moved lower, his tongue forging a wet trail. He laid his
cheek against Danny’s stomach for a moment, just breathing him in,
rising and falling with Danny’s exhales, Danny twining lazy fingers in
his hair.

“I’m hungry.” Danny’s words were punctuated by a stomach
rumble, loud in Miller’s ear.

“You’re always hungry,” he noted, resting his chin on Danny’s
stomach. “I thought we were about to do something besides eat.”

“I think I need food first.”

“All we have is peanut butter and jelly.”
Danny gave a noncommittal grunt.

“I take it peanut butter and jelly is not your favorite,” Miller said
dryly.

“I should have reminded you to get something else when you
were out yesterday.”

“I had other things on my mind.” Miller’s eyes skated over to the
box of condoms on the bedside table.

Danny grinned. “At least you’ve got your priorities straight.” He
paused, pinching Miller’s earlobe playfully. “But seriously, would it
have killed you to pick up some turkey?”
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Miller tipped his head downward, his laugh muffled by Danny’s
belly. “Christ, I’ve never met anybody who bitches about food the way
you do.”

“What do you mean?” Danny craned his neck to look at Miller.

“You complain about the sandwich selection, my cooking skills,
the pizza, the cereal, those stale crackers from the hospital.” Miller
tried to sound disgusted, but he couldn’t help smiling.

Danny looked at him without speaking.

“What?” Miller asked, suddenly self-conscious.

“You remember all that stuff?”

Miller stared into Danny’s eyes. “Yeah,” he said. “I do.” He
wanted to make a joke, but he couldn’t back away from what he saw in
Danny’s eyes, couldn’t make light of what was real and alive between
them.

“Come here.” Danny tugged on Miller’s arm, moving him up to
cover his body, his legs braiding their way around Miller’s. Danny’s
hands clutched at Miller’s ass as they rocked against each other, one
finger sliding into the cleft, pushing lightly.

Miller stiffened up—not out of fear exactly, just overcome with
the knowledge that this was one more place he was opening up to
Danny, giving over another piece of himself to the man beneath him.

“Can I?” Danny whispered.

“Yes.” Miller hitched his body upward, giving Danny more room
to explore.

Danny’s finger slid in smooth. It didn’t hurt, the way Miller
expected it might. He felt pressure and stretching, but nothing that he
would describe as pain.

Danny groaned, moving his finger slowly in and out. Miller
curved his back, arching down to kiss Danny with a probing tongue,
matching his movements to the thrusts of Danny’s finger.

Danny pulled back a little, looking at Miller as he pushed his hips
up and his finger deep at the same moment, Danny’s question—

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Someday?—clear in his eyes, and Miller’s answer—Yes—clear in his
own. He’d never in a million years thought he’d open his body for
another man, but for Danny? Yes, he’d do that; he’d do anything.

Danny wrapped his legs over Miller’s shoulders as they made
love, his head tipped back on the pillow as Miller thrust hard. It was
the first time they’d done this face-to-face, and Miller growled through
his pleasure, not wanting it to end too soon, wanting to savor every
second, every expression gliding across Danny’s face, every sound he
made, and the way his green eyes flew open wide as he came, allowing
Miller to see all the way inside.

When it was over Miller slid out slowly, collapsing onto Danny’s
body. “Why,” he panted into Danny’s neck, “why’s it so goddamn
good?” He was surprised at how full his voice sounded, so close to
overflowing its steady banks.

Danny stroked his hair, his lips warm against Miller’s cheek.

“Because it’s us, Miller,” he whispered. “Because it’s us.”
DENIAL. Miller recognized it easily enough, had seen it on the faces of countless suspects, their spouses and children, parents and friends.

He’d seen it in the eyes of fellow agents when a jury shuffled back into the courtroom with a “not guilty” verdict, erasing years of work in an instant. And God knew he’d made its personal acquaintance, hiding behind his own mask for a lifetime. So he knew what he was feeling as he turned a slow circle in Danny’s empty apartment, furniture cleaned out, a few scraps of crumpled newspaper all that was left behind of Danny’s life.

“Did he….” Miller cleared his throat. “Did he say where he was going?”

The apartment manager shrugged, her manner bored and slightly put out. She’d hemmed and hawed about letting Miller inside until he’d told her he was with the FBI, which wasn’t technically true while on administrative leave. Given his larger transgressions, he didn’t think Shades of Gray | 257

playing fast and loose with Danny’s landlady was going to get him in water any hotter than he was boiling in already. “I heard him say he had a long drive ahead of him, so I’m assuming outside the city. But more than that, I have no idea.”

Miller had called Danny every day since Danny had walked away and left him alone on the park bench. Fifteen calls, and the machine had picked up every time. Miller never left a message; he had no idea what to say to make it right again, didn’t know what words Danny needed to hear. Then yesterday when he’d called, a familiar electronic voice came over the wire, telling Miller that Danny’s number had been disconnected or was no longer in service. Miller had wanted to travel through the telephone and strangle the voice speaking words he could not accept.

And now here he was in Danny’s apartment, finally getting off his ass and making a move, and it was too late because Danny was gone.