Love Is Heartless (Love Can't Book 2) by Kim Fielding

Author:Kim Fielding [Fielding, Kim]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: gay romance
ISBN: 9781635332148
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Published: 2017-01-12T18:30:00+00:00

NORMALLY NEVIN would have had no trouble concentrating on work, where he had more interviews to conduct on the Gillett case as well as piles of paperwork. Other tasks crowded his schedule, too, such as a senior-center talk on avoiding Internet scams and some visits to group homes for developmentally disabled people. But Nevin spent the week trying not to think about Colin, whose image sometimes intruded at damned inconvenient times. Nevin ran long and hard in the mornings and visited the gym in the evenings, but when he ate at all, it was whatever crap he could grab on the fly.

He didn’t feel good. Maybe he was coming down with the flu.

On Friday night he worked until well past dark. He got into Julie and nearly steered her over to the Pearl District—and Colin’s loft—before pulling over on Broadway and poking at his phone.

“Meet me somewhere,” he barked when Ford answered.

“Where?”

“Don’t care. Anywhere with booze and women.” Because he was thinking that maybe if he had sex with a woman—a voluptuous one with big tits and rounded hips—he’d shake Colin out of his head.

Ford was silent, then cleared his throat. “Um, how about if we go somewhere quieter instead?”

Shit. That sounded foreboding. “Yeah, okay.”

They ended up at a diner not far from Nevin’s place. That was good on two counts—he could eat for the first time that day and he was across the river from Colin. The Willamette really wasn’t much of a barrier since there were plenty of bridges, but it provided psychological distance, at least.

Nevin arrived at the diner first and commandeered a big corner booth. By the time Ford got there, Nevin already had a coffee and had studied the menu. Ford had already eaten and just ordered a Coke, but Nevin asked for a burger and fries.

“You look like shit,” Ford observed.

“Fuck you very much.”

“I’m serious, bro. You got bags under your eyes, and I swear you’ve lost weight since I saw you last. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Just up to my neck in shit at work. You’re the one who sounded so fucking ominous when I called. What the hell’s going on?”

Ford shifted, making the vinyl seat squeak, and pointed his gaze at one of the entirely unremarkable prints hanging on the wall. His scalp was freshly shaved, and he was sporting a new mustache. It looked good on him. He’d dressed up a bit too, in a white button-down and new-looking jeans. But the fingernails tapping on the tabletop were a landscaper’s—ragged and permanently stained from his work in the soil.

Nevin leaned toward him. “If you don’t spit it out, I’m going to yank your tongue out of your goddamn mouth.”

For some reason the threat appeared to relax Ford a bit. He gave a weak smile. “Got a new tattoo.”

“That’s what’s got your panties twisted? Unless it’s my face on your ass, what the fuck do I care?”

Instead of answering, Ford unbuttoned his left cuff and painstakingly rolled up the sleeve. His arms were already heavily inked, but a few blank spaces remained.

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