Fish & Chips Read online

  Ty looked at Zane blankly and shook his head, trying to see the humorous side of the situation. He failed miserably and grunted at his equally cranky partner. “I know the guy’s all kinds of classy, but you’re putting a shirt on, right, papi?” he asked wryly.

  Zane stalked over to the wardrobe to rifle through the choices with an aggrieved sigh. He looked to be visibly wrangling with making himself relax.

  Ty grunted in sympathy and scratched at his chin idly as he watched. “We’ll stop by one of the pharmacies and get some after dinner.”

  “Oh, that will go over well. Are you worried about getting pregnant?”

  Ty cocked his head and narrowed his eyes at his belligerent partner. He deserved to be cranky, but Ty didn’t deserve to be the target. Ty waffled between responding in kind and trying to defuse a possible argument. Fuck it. “Maybe you’re just not a good enough lay, and I’m cheating on you,” he posed finally.

  Zane yanked a shirt off its hanger and turned around. “If I found you cheating on me, I’d beat you black and blue. And you’d get off on it,” he growled in Corbin’s voice.

  Ty narrowed his eyes further and leaned forward. There had been a couple times now that he actually believed Zane as Corbin. This instance especially qualified. The line between them was easily blurred. Ty didn’t particularly like this element of Zane’s transformation, possibly because it didn’t actually feel like a transformation. It was like there was a part of Zane somewhere in there really meant the things he said.

  Now Zane steadily held his gaze as he pulled a shirt on. Zane’s eyes were deep brown, almost black, and not at all warm. Ty wasn’t at all intimidated, but he was annoyed just enough to want to deny Zane the fight he was angling for.

  He smiled slyly. “You’re probably right.”

  The icy scowl on Zane’s face thawed a little, as did the chill in his eyes, and one corner of his mouth curled up as he gave Ty a wink. “Of course I am.”

  Ty rolled his eyes and stood. “You ready, cupcake?” he asked drolly.

  “I’d feel better if I knew where our damn backup was,” Zane groused as he tucked in the black silk shirt. He’d left two buttons undone at the collar, and he looked slimmer, almost wiry, in the all-black ensemble, despite his six-foot-five frame and broad shoulders. “What about weapons?” he asked as he strapped a narrow stiletto inside one wrist and buttoned the cuff.

  “Well,” Ty started with a heavy sigh as he looked down at himself, “I don’t have anywhere to hide mine. But we can stash one or two more on you maybe.” He looked Zane up and down critically. It was relatively easy for a trained eye to spot a concealed weapon, and their main concern was being discovered as frauds. “I guess the real question is, would Corbin go packing, or should we hide it good enough to make it hard to get to?”

  “Porter’s a thug. A smug one who’s careful, but he’s not paranoid. Too proud for that. I think he’d carry but have it well concealed for use in a pinch,” Zane said.

  Ty couldn’t help the gleam that entered his eyes. “That means we have to be creative,” he said with a certain relish as he scanned over Zane’s body again.

  “Creative,” Zane repeated, and he looked down at himself as he watched Ty study him. “Like… what? I already wear concealed knives.”

  Ty smirked and cocked his head. “Inner thighs are good, right at the groin. Material’s always roomy, so it doesn’t show, but it’s uncomfortable as hell. Also hard to get to unless you feel like shooting off a round right next to your johnson. Lower back is probably the best place. Won’t impede movement, less noticeable, especially if you don’t take off the jacket,” he surmised as Zane pulled a black suit jacket out of the wardrobe. “We just need something to secure it. Other than stuffing it into your belt, of course.”

  “Because that’s so comfortable,” Zane said with a sigh. “But it’ll do unless you have another idea.” He walked over to the small satchel on the bedside table and pulled out Ty’s gun from where it was hidden in a large box of jewelry that consisted mostly of leather and chains. They hadn’t found Zane’s Glock hidden anywhere.

  “I do,” Ty said haughtily as he headed for the only bag he’d been allowed to pack of his own things. There was a single Ace bandage in there, brought along out of habit. He held it up to Zane with a raised eyebrow. “Okay, so it’s not a Molle system, but you make do.”

  Zane cracked a smile and started pulling his shirt back out of the waistband. “Fix me up, then.”

  Ty bit his tongue on any possible response and unraveled the bandage. They used Zane’s belt to make sure the gun stayed in place, and Ty made quick work of wrapping the bandage around Zane’s torso to secure it. It served to hide the telltale form of the gun’s pommel, but that was about it. Ty pushed Zane’s shirt down and stood back with his hands on his hips, surveying his handiwork.

  “It’ll do,” Ty told him, realizing belatedly the dubious tone to his voice.

  “As long as it doesn’t clatter to the floor, it’ll be fine,” Zane said as he tucked his shirt back in and picked up the jacket. “I feel better, anyway.”

  “Oh, what a relief,” Ty muttered sarcastically.

  Zane just smiled and walked to open the door for him. “Let’s go, doll.”

  Ty merely rolled his eyes as he walked past him. Give the man a weapon and suddenly he was all smiles again.

  Come to think of it, that was probably one of the traits that kept Ty interested.

  They walked down the corridor together, Ty glancing surreptitiously at Zane as they moved. He cleared his throat and reached out to slide his fingers into Zane’s, taking pleasure in the ability to do so without fear of being spotted. “At least you make frustrated and cranky look good,” he commented, tongue-in-cheek.

  Zane took up Ty’s hand and kissed his knuckles, offering a rueful look of apology before lacing their fingers together as they walked out into the several-stories-high, glass-walled promenade. “So you think Del is as proud to show off Corbin as Corbin is Del?”

  “No, he’s just after his money,” Ty answered blithely, trying not to smile as he watched Zane out of the corner of his eye for his reaction.

  Zane’s lips twitched. “Corbin can probably afford whatever eye candy strikes his fancy.” He leaned slightly toward Ty as they walked. “But I’m thinking my version of Del is easier on the eyes.”

  “Flattery will not get you laid any faster,” Ty told him with a frown. He was aware of his own good looks and not too modest to use them occasionally, but Zane rarely offered a compliment when they weren’t half-naked already, and Ty didn’t think he’d ever noticed so many eyes lingering on him as he had the past day or so. It was unsettling for a man who’d spent most of his life trying not to be noticed.

  “Somehow I don’t think you keep me around for my seduction skills,” Zane said drily.

  Ty barked a laugh before he could stop himself. He glanced at Zane and smiled affectionately at him. Zane’s goofy lines and occasional unabashedly cheesy attempts at seduction were just part of his charm. Cheesy, goofy, thank-God-he’s-pretty charm. “I think I can safely concur.”

  Zane staggered slightly and clapped a hand over his heart in mock-surprise.

  “Just take comfort in the fact that I keep you around for the amazing sex,” Ty murmured to appease him.

  “How amazing?” Zane wheedled.

  “Don’t push it.”

  Chapter 5

  THEY walked into the swanky restaurant indicated on their ever-demanding itineraries, and a cheerful hostess wearing the ship’s colors and a green Santa hat asked them to follow her through the candlelit dining room. Zane glanced around casually: it was your typical fancy sit-down place with painted cream wallpaper, glittery chandeliers, china, crystal, and linen on the tables, and one bank of floor-to-ceiling windows. Nothing surprising. The hostess led them to a raised dais that ran along one side of the room next to the wide windows that displayed the dying sunset and stopped by a table.

  After a m
oment’s pause, Zane walked to the far side and pulled the chair closest to the wall out, indicating for Ty to sit. Not that he was trying to be extra suave, but he figured he’d go ahead and give Ty the seat that would put his back to the wall. Zane didn’t like people walking up behind him either, but he wasn’t likely to react violently out of instinct. And besides, Ty would warn him long before anyone suspicious got close enough to do damage.

  Ty raised one eyebrow at him in warning despite his good intentions. Too much gallantry on Zane’s part might cause Ty to lose it. Which might be fun to watch. Tonight, though, Ty sat obediently in the proffered chair and laid the linen napkin across his lap as he watched Zane step around the table to sit down across from him.

  The hostess wished them a pleasant dinner and disappeared with surprisingly little fanfare. Considering how staff members had been consistently tripping over themselves and each other to help the guests, Zane was mildly impressed.

  “At least we have a view,” Ty mumbled as he looked out the windows at the setting sun. The fading sunlight fought with the candlelight, casting odd shadows across his face.

  Zane did glance outside, but he preferred to watch his partner instead, still studying the odd contrast of Ty versus Del. He opened his mouth to comment on it when a waiter stopped at the table, left them menus, a wine list, and a specials card, and whisked away after promising to return post haste.

  “Well,” Zane said, leaning back comfortably. “Isn’t this schmanzy.”

  “You’re such a cynic,” Ty accused under his breath.

  “Why do you say that?” Zane asked curiously as he looked around them again. He had to admit that the decor was tasteful. Just upscale, which he’d learned a long time ago didn’t necessarily mean you were getting your money’s worth.

  Ty pointed out the window at the last brilliant rays of sun as it faded below the horizon. The pale blue sky was streaked with pinks and oranges and one splash of brilliant crimson. “That is free,” Ty said quietly.

  Zane nodded slowly. Every once in a while, Ty came out with one of these comments that really made Zane step back and appreciate what he had. Right now, he definitely included Ty in that tally. “It’s gorgeous. We should see about eating dinner on our balcony sometime.” Their suite was on the starboard side, so they could get some sunsets all to themselves, if they wanted.

  Ty smiled, but it was a melancholy one wholly uncharacteristic of him. Zane watched him for a long moment, and then he reached out to cover Ty’s hand on the table with his own. “You okay?” he asked quietly.

  “Just trying to remind myself not to get too comfortable.”

  “It’s okay to enjoy yourself,” Zane answered, phrasing his words carefully. “We’ve got two weeks here. Busy and eventful weeks, but two of them. To ourselves, mostly.”

  “We don’t have anything to ourselves until we’ve done our job,” Ty reminded softly. His voice was even, not at all bitter or resigned like it might have been. But there was something beneath it that was hard to identify.

  “We’re together,” was Zane’s simple answer.

  Ty’s lips compressed as he continued to hold Zane’s gaze across the table, and his eyes warmed like he was trying to hide his amusement. It was enough. Zane would rather see humor at his expense in Ty’s eyes than any kind of pain.

  “So. Want to look at the specials?” he asked as he held up the card. Ty snorted and snatched the card out of Zane’s hand, flipping it over to peruse it with pursed lips. The melancholy was gone, replaced by his usual unique style of bravado. Zane pulled one of the full menus closer. “Anything look good?”

  Ty didn’t respond for a moment, and when he did, his voice was totally devoid of inflection. “I see fish. And more fish. And oh look, shrimp. With fish.”

  Zane opened the menu and skimmed the entrée list. “It appears this would be a seafood restaurant. Besides salad. Although we’re paying enough that I’m sure they’d hoof a steak up here from somewhere for you if you asked.”

  “I like fish,” Ty muttered as he reviewed his own menu. He sounded almost insulted.

  “I know that. But you like steak better,” Zane pointed out with a smile.

  “Shut up,” Ty muttered with a shake of his head. “Maybe I can order fish and chips and feel like I’m at home,” in said a falsely wistful voice.

  The waiter appeared at his elbow, and they made their orders, Zane passing when the man offered wine with the meal. Again, Ty hesitated when the drinks were brought up, as if not sure whether he should order one.

  “I highly recommend the Verdicchio,” a hearty, accented voice said, interrupting the waiter’s explanation of the wine choices. “They’d do well to have an Orvieto, but alas, we must make do.”

  Zane turned his attention to the man sitting at a nearby table who had spoken. He had dark Italian coloring and features to match his accent, and Zane guessed him to be in his early to mid-fifties by the depth of the voice and the gray at his temples. “Sounds like good advice. Doll? Want to try that?”

  “Perhaps another time,” Ty answered softly, watching Zane with narrowed eyes.

  “The wine list is not so extended, but I would call it sufficient, I suppose, considering the surrounds,” the man said, his deep voice easily carrying across the aisle between their tables.

  Zane glanced over to observe a statuesque brunette sitting with the man who had just spoken, and she was commenting in what sounded like Italian, her sentence ending with a name: Lorenzo. And by the tone of her voice, she was chiding him.

  “Ah, yes, excuse me. I do tend to go on,” the man told Zane in apology.

  Zane smiled in response and checked to see if Ty had caught that exchange. A probably-Italian man named Lorenzo eating in the same rotation as they were. Chances were really good that this was their other main contact, Lorenzo Bianchi.

  Ty was looking devotedly at his menu, his head cocked in a manner that said he was indeed listening intently to the couple at the neighboring table. As Zane looked at him, Ty glanced up at him from under his lashes. He had heard.

  Zane ordered the first dish that caught his eye. Then the waiter turned to Ty and took his order before making himself scarce.

  “Ah, and you will feel the want for the Orvieto, choosing such an exquisite and light grilled fish without sauce,” Bianchi said, wagging a finger in the air at Zane expansively.

  “I’m sure there will be plenty of opportunity for wine during the cruise,” Zane said smoothly, turning his body slightly in the chair so he was more open to the Bianchis.

  “Ah, champagne with breakfast, mixed drinks at lunch, cocktails with the appetizers, wine with dinner, and cognac with my cigar. I do indeed like that,” Bianchi said with a smile as he laid his napkin on the table next to his plate.

  Zane had to ignore how dry his mouth had just gotten. That laundry list of drinks was appealing in its own scary way. “Well, it is vacation, after all,” he commented.

  “Bah, vacation. Life is all about love and liquor,” Bianchi said with a grand gesture to the woman with him. “Isn’t that right, Norina?” She smiled indulgently and nodded, and Zane saw the light of it sparkle in her dark eyes. She matched Bianchi for coloring, though Zane would place her as younger than Ty, early thirties at the most. “Ah, to beautiful women in love!” Bianchi proposed, holding up his nearly empty flute before finishing it in two swallows.

  Zane let out a chuckle and nodded. “I’m sure we would join you in some variation of your toast if we had glasses.”

  Bianchi narrowed his eyes, looking between Zane and Ty curiously, when Norina spoke up in a spate of Italian, and his eyes widened in surprise for a moment before he broke into a full laugh as he stood and offered his hand. “Well, then to beautiful people in love. I am Lorenzo Bianchi, and it is a pleasure to meet you finally. You are Mr. Porter, no?”

  Zane smiled as he stood and shook hands with Bianchi. “I agree with both those sentiments. Corbin Porter, yes.”

  Bianchi continued to chu
ckle as he pumped Zane’s hand. “Well, well, Mr. Porter, it is as Norina supposed. Perhaps we meet earlier than planned, but it was indeed a good first discussion, don’t you agree?”

  “Yes, I think so, Signor Bianchi.” Zane turned partway toward Ty. “This is my husband, Del Porter.”

  “Very nice to meet you, Mr. Porter and Mr. Porter,” Bianchi said as he offered his hand to Ty as he gestured with his other arm for Norina to stand. “And this is my gioia Norina.”

  To all three men’s shock, the Italian beauty stood and threw her arms around Ty enthusiastically, talking rapidly in elated Italian as she hugged him. Zane caught himself before responding with anything more than a laugh, but that certainly wasn’t something he’d expected to see. He was sure Ty hadn’t been expecting it, either, and glad Ty had been able to repress the Instakill.

  “Ah, they spent so much time on the computer planning this and that,” Bianchi said with a wave of his hand. “That will be why you and I sit in peace at the poker tables.”

  Zane rubbed at his chin as he suppressed the reaction to frown. So Norina and Del were e-mail pals. That could be good. Or not. “I’m looking forward to it.”

  “Come, Norina, you and Mr. Porter can catch up tomorrow,” Bianchi said pleasantly. “We have that concert to see.”

  Norina chattered a little more as she hugged Ty one last time before giving Zane a brilliant smile. Zane really hoped what she was saying wasn’t something Del was supposed to be understanding and answering, because it was obvious Norina expected Del to understand Italian. They all said their goodbyes just as the waiter appeared with the appetizer and salads, and Zane sat down in his chair to take a deep breath and process.

  Ty remained standing, watching them go with a smile firmly in place. He waved one last time as Norina Bianchi turned and waved back at them excitedly. As soon as they were out of sight, Ty turned to Zane, smile gone and face expressionless, and he sat heavily in his chair. He looked like he desperately wanted to say something, rail against McCoy and God and Donald Duck for putting them on this cruise ship in this position. But he remained silent.