Over and Back, page 8
“Yeah.” He inhaled the scent of his pasta and took a tentative bite, groaning at the richness. “It’s okay, though.” At the moment, it helped cover his distraction, and he had plenty to wonder about.
Chapter Four—A Different Roman Holiday
GRANT HAD been quiet throughout the rest of dinner and the entire walk back to the hotel. No, not quiet—preoccupied. He’d even stumbled over a crack in the sidewalk. Hank had wanted to ask him about it, but Grant was so withdrawn, Hank didn’t feel as though he should.
Hank used the bathroom first and climbed into bed with a book while Grant got ready. He did his best to look busy when Grant came out, but Hank’s gaze followed him across the room. He cleared his throat and turned out all but his reading light. “Good night,” he said softly, and Grant did the same. Hank glanced over as Grant rolled onto his side, facing away from him. Immediately, his mind went to the delightful surprise he’d received earlier in the day when he’d come out of the bathroom. He hadn’t gotten a long look, but Grant had a pert, tight butt that he couldn’t help thinking about. Like the rest of him, it was slim and compact, but adorable. That was quickly becoming the word Hank used in his head when he thought of Grant.
He read for a while, then turned out the light, fell asleep, and woke a few hours later, dry and uncomfortable. Hank hadn’t thought about how dry the air was and got up to get a drink of water. He tried to be quiet when he got back into bed, hoping not to wake Grant. He was mostly successful, but heard Grant get up a while later. Hank yawned and lay still as Grant half stumbled across the room. The water ran and the light from under the door went out, plunging the room into darkness once again.
Grant came back out, moving slowly, and must have caught the edge of the bed with his leg, because he went down, tumbling onto the bed right next to Hank. It would have been funny if Hank hadn’t been warm and lying on top of the sheet. Instead, he ended up with his arms full of Grant, and it felt so good for the few seconds it lasted.
“Oh my God. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall and….”
“It’s all right,” Hank soothed as Grant flailed to get off the bed. “I was awake. It’s so dry in here.” He needed something to talk about other than the way Grant felt in his arms.
“But, I… and you’re… almost naked,” Grant stammered as he climbed into the other bed.
“It’s okay. It’s not very often that a cute guy ends up in bed with me.” Hank meant it as a joke, but there was no response at all. “Like I said, it’s okay. No harm done.” He didn’t want Grant to feel bad or anything.
“Thanks.” The room grew quiet once again. “Are you asleep?” Grant asked a few minutes later.
“No. I’m awake.” Parts of him were wide-awake, but Hank wasn’t going to mention that. The room, and now his bed, smelled slightly of Grant, and it was enticingly sexy. “It feels strange to be in bed at this hour.” He was tired, but his body was majorly confused.
“Yeah. Me too.”
Hank shifted, and in the near darkness, he could just make out Grant sitting up. His mind filled in the details from what he’d seen earlier by the pool, and he had a pretty good idea of how Grant looked: his hair mussed from sleep, his skin slightly pinked from warmth, maybe his eyes half-lidded, his lips parted slightly. At least, that was how Hank pictured him.
“Were you joking earlier?” Grant asked. “About the whole cute guys in your bed thing?”
“I guess I was trying to be funny. I’m sorry if it bothered you.”
“No. I mean, it didn’t…. I mean, you think I’m cute?” Grant asked, and Hank chuckled. “You know, I always thought you had a million guys wanting to go home with you. I see a lot of them watching you at the club all the time.” Grant lay back down.
“Yeah, well… I don’t go out with guys from the club. So, in the end, I don’t go out very often…. And yeah, you are cute, but in a really good way.”
Grant huffed. “There is no good cute,” he countered, which Hank thought completely adorable, especially since his eyes had adjusted to the darkness now and he could make out the tilt of Grant’s head and his air quotes.
“Sure, there is.” Hank scooched up so he could get comfortable. “There’s the fluffy bunny kind of cute, which you are not. Then there’s the little girl in a pink dress with a bow in her hair kind of cute. You are definitely not that either.” He was sort of getting into this. “There’s also the baby in a stroller, giggling as he or she makes goo-goo eyes at you. You’re not that kind of cute either.” Hank could almost hear Grant’s teeth grinding together. “You’re hot cute.”
Grant half snorted. “What the hell is that? I don’t think anyone has ever referred to me as hot before.” His voice lowered and grew softer the more he talked. “Wait a minute here… I….”
“Yeah, hot cute. You have this way about you that’s kind. You even eat gently. Like at the airport when we were waiting in the passport line and you saw that older lady who was having trouble with her bag. You let her go ahead and get through when everyone else pretty much ignored her.”
“That was being polite,” Grant countered.
“No. That was being nice. And in a room with hundreds of people, you were the one to do that. Being kind and thoughtful, caring, is cute, but it’s hot too.”
Grant huffed softly. “It also means I’m an easy mark and people take advantage of me. Like that Jarrod guy. He took one look at me and figured I’d go along with him.” There was hurt in his voice now, the feistiness gone. “I wonder if that isn’t more like the real me.”
Hank shrugged. “Doesn’t really matter. My opinion stands, and I still think you’re hot cute… especially from the back.” He had to get that in.
Grant gasped, then jumped out of bed, and lightly smacked him on the arm. “You could be gentlemanly enough not to mention that. It’s embarrassing.” He sat back on the side of his bed.
Hank did his best imitation of Zach. “Honey, you have nothing to be embarrassed about. Believe me.” He couldn’t help smiling as Grant shook his head. Hank ended up chuckling, and Grant did too, much to Hank’s relief. “With that, we should try to go back to sleep or we’ll be dead on our feet in the morning. We have quite a bit of walking to do, and there are sights to see.” He lay back down, staring up at the ceiling, listening as Grant did the same and eventually rolled over. Hank listened as Grant’s breathing evened out, but he ended up staring at the ceiling for the longest time, his mind running with thoughts about the “hot cute” guy in the bed next to his.
HANK THOUGHT it was hot at home, but holy cow. The sun on the walk from the Colosseum subway station to the tour meeting point made it seem as if they were walking through an oven. Thankfully he’d put an umbrella in his daypack, because shade was nonexistent.
“Wow,” Grant said from next to him as he craned his neck from side to side. “There’s the forum and where the senate met. Over there is what’s left of Trajan’s market and the column. The triumphal arches.” He talked as they made their way to where the tour would meet up. “I can’t believe I’m here. This is like walking in the footsteps of history.”
Hank couldn’t argue with him and found Grant’s enthusiasm contagious. “I’m sure the tour will go over all of this.”
Grant nearly danced as they walked. “I hope so.”
Most of the time Hank had spent with Grant, the younger man had been under some form of stress, or he’d been working, where his energy was contained. But an excited Grant was a thing of beauty. He even outshone Zach in that department—at least to Hank, anyway.
“That is super awesome,” Jeremy gasped softly as they approached the circle. “What is that?”
“A memorial to the man who unified Italy in the nineteenth century—Victor Emmanuel,” Grant explained as they came to a huge, neoclassical white marble building. Hank gaped as they crossed in front of it, taken aback by the sunlight glaring off the stone.
“We meet right over there.” Zach pointed, and they made their way to a small park of sorts with a pineapple water fountain at the end. Hank went over to fill his bottle, already having gone through the water he’d brought along. Many of the others did the same, then sat in the grass under some towering umbrella pines. “We have twenty minutes,” Zach said to the assembled group.
“I can’t believe we’re finally here. In Rome…,” Tristan commented with a smile, then took a long swig of water. The shade made the heat bearable, but out in the sun, it was scorching.
Grant sat next to him, and Hank shared his water. He had forgotten a bottle.
“Drink what you want, and I’ll refill it before we go,” Hank offered. Grant was already sweating heavily. He emptied the bottle, and Hank went to refill it, getting in line with the other tourists who were doing the same. When he returned, Hank offered Grant some more. “I don’t want you to get dehydrated in this heat.”
Grant smiled, and Hank had to fight against giving him a hug. Instead, he turned toward the rest of the group, who’d moved over to meet their tour guide.
“Welcome to Rome,” the woman was saying. “I’m Elaina, and I’ll be your guide for this walking tour. I am a professor of history here in Rome. We always want our guests to learn the facts, as well as the legends,” she said with a small laugh. She had a slight accent, but otherwise she was extremely clear. “Also, I just love sharing the grandeur of my hometown with people.” She had everyone introduce themselves, and then they started their tour.
THE NEXT two hours were amazing and torture at the same time. The tour was wonderful, but the heat and sun were nearly overpowering. Still, he and Grant did his best to stay in what little shade there was.
Grant seemed to soak in everything the guide told them. “This is where they first tried to build a new subway station and found the remains of an entire building. So now it’s an archaeological site, and they’re building the new station over there.”
Hank figured that wherever they tried to dig, they would discover something, but he kept that to himself as the machinery rumbled and beeped in the background.
Their last stop was the Colosseum, right by the subway entrance. As they walked around it, the guide told them all about the Romans’ idea of entertainment—almost all bloody. When the tour was finished, she told them about the restaurants in the area. Hank wondered if she got a cut. Each of them tipped her, and they all said their goodbyes.
“I’m ready to eat,” Hank pronounced. They had all taken a million pictures, and the heat was really getting to him.
“Yes,” Grant agreed from next to him, then stilled. He turned, paling under his light blue umbrella.
“What is it?” Hank followed his gaze, tipping off his sunglasses, and tapped Bull on the shoulder. “I think our unwelcome guest has made an appearance. He’s right over there by the entrance, standing in the shade. He seems to be watching Grant.” He put an arm around Grant to show that he wasn’t alone. This ass was going to have to go through him if he wanted to get to Grant, that was for damn sure.
Bull didn’t turn, but got Spook’s attention. No more was said, and they walked as a group in the direction of a restaurant. When Hank checked whether everyone was still together, Spook was missing from the group.
Jeremy joined them, walking with Grant, talking softly. Hank wished he could hear them, but after a few minutes, some of the tension eased out of Grant’s shoulders.
They found a place where they could sit outside, under an awning with misters. The gentle spray of water made all the difference. It was a place that catered to the tourists, but the food looked pretty good. It wasn’t as enticing as what they’d had the evening before, but the smell from inside was still enough to make Hank’s stomach rumble.
“I think I’m going to get fat with all this pasta I’m eating,” Harry said.
“Oh, stop it,” Angus chastised. “We’re going to walk it all off, so don’t even go there.”
No one else really seemed to notice that Spook was missing until he showed up. He and Bull exchanged looks that even Hank could tell were a mixture of anger and frustration.
“Did you talk with him?” Grant asked, and Spook nodded.
“Not here,” he said half under his breath, and picked up the menu.
Hank could accept that, but Grant was on edge. He nearly fell out of his seat when someone bumped him, and almost spilled his water when a car backfired. Whatever this guy was doing was having quite an effect on him, and Hank wanted it to stop.
“It will be okay. They know what they’re doing,” Hank told Grant just before they placed their orders. The water bottles on the table were emptied fast, and they ordered more. “What have we planned for after lunch?” Hank asked no one specifically.
Zach shrugged as everyone looked at him. “I hadn’t planned anything more. We can wander around. Maybe walk toward the Trevi Fountain. We’re supposed to see it in a few days, but there are shops and things in that area, so if you want souvenirs, that’s probably a good place to get them.”
“I want to pick up some T-shirts,” Grant said. “I need to get one for myself and a few friends back home. I also thought I’d get something for my sister, but I’ll probably see what they have in Florence.” Some of the tension seemed to have left him, but Hank thought that Grant was still wound a little too tightly.
The server brought their lunch dishes and refilled water glasses before hurrying back inside. The misting felt heavenly as Hank ate, cooling the air around them. He sighed and smiled at Grant. He wanted to talk to him, ask him something, but he couldn’t come up with anything that didn’t sound dumb or forced.
“Are you interested in history?” he asked, thinking of Grant’s reaction to the tour.
“Yeah. I was pretty good in school. I used to like the story part of history, not necessarily the places and dates. But I had a teacher who used stories to illustrate what happened, both good and bad, so we could learn from it. He told us all about ancient Rome—the places we’ve seen, and some of the ones we’re going to see—and what happened there.”
“Do you wish we’d gone inside the Colosseum?”
“Maybe. Unfortunately, the floor is gone and the underworkings are pretty well all that’s visible. There are better-preserved Roman-era amphitheaters than the one here in Rome. I think I’d like to see one of those, if time permits. Still, even if we didn’t go in, the outside of the Colosseum was impressive.” He sat back slightly. “This smells really good.”
“Mine is incredible,” Hank said, twirling the spaghetti around his fork, using the spoon to help.
“After lunch, Kevin and I are going to head back to the hotel. We didn’t sleep very well last night and want a chance to rest,” Angus told the group. “If anyone else wants to go back, you’re welcome to join us. But don’t feel like you have to.”
There seemed to be two groups that formed pretty quickly. Zach and Jeremy, along with Bull and Spook, wanted to stay, and the others talked about heading back. Hank was hot and wasn’t looking forward to spending more time in the sweltering heat, but Grant seemed intent on remaining. Hank didn’t want him to feel like a fifth wheel, so he decided to stay as well.
By the time lunch was done and the bills paid, the others headed back toward the subway while their larger group walked the short distance toward the fountain. Hank found himself watching the people around them, looking to see if Jarrod was following. He got the feeling they were being watched, and when they reached the small plaza dominated by the impressive fountain with its cascades of water around the horses and the stunning figure of Oceanus, Hank stepped to the edge of the people clustering around it.
“We’re being followed, aren’t we?” he asked Spook, who nodded once. “What does he want? It’s really freaking Grant out.” Hank spoke softly, and Spook nodded once again.
“He wants something from Bull, but I don’t know what. Bull isn’t going to tell me. He has secrets, the way we all do, and this has something to do with that. I honestly think that Jarrod has his attention on Grant because of the way Bull stood up for him that night at the club. Bull protected Grant, and that might have triggered something in Jarrod’s mind.” Spook took a step farther back into the shade. “I’m going to trust you because you’re his roommate.”
“Did you know him before?” Hank asked as he watched the others work their way closer to the fountain. The milling crowd shifted almost constantly.
“No. He’s someone from Bull’s past. But he’s trained. The only reason we know he’s around is because he wants us to know. He’s playing some game.”
“Has Bull said anything?”
Spook shook his head. “He’s unusually tight-lipped.”
“So basically what we have is a guy following us, trying to unnerve Bull and doing a really good job of scaring Grant. But we don’t know why. It sounds like this guy could go off the deep end at any time.”
Spook sighed. “That’s about it. Bull isn’t going to talk either, probably because he can’t. He did a lot of things that he can never talk about… just like I did.”
“But after all this time….” Hank didn’t understand that.
“Doesn’t matter. We were guns for hire, and that was part of the job. And we don’t know what’s still classified and what isn’t, so we keep our mouths shut.” He turned his head so Hank could look into his dark eyes that gave away absolutely nothing. “Bull and I weren’t always on the same side. But in that world of shifting loyalties…. It was a strange life, and it looks like the cloak-and-dagger stuff has made an appearance once again.” He flicked his gaze to the fountain. “I don’t like this, not one bit. If he was truly after something, Bull would have told me. Then we could get it, and Jarrod would slither back to whatever hole he came out of.” Spook continued watching the crowd like a bodyguard. “Go on and get your picture taken. I’ll be around to keep an eye on things.”
“This is your vacation,” Hank said. This whole situation really sucked.
“There’s no vacation from life… or your past.” Spook grew quiet, and Hank realized that was his last word on the subject for now. He left the shade of the building and joined the others closer to the fountain. When he turned, Spook was gone. Dang, he was never going to get used to that.
