Operation Green Card by G.B. Gordon

Author:G.B. Gordon [Gordon, G.B.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Riptide Publishing
Published: 2017-11-13T05:00:00+00:00

It was past ten when Jason woke up, and for a second he thought his clock was off. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept past dawn. But then the weight of Arkady’s body on his left arm registered, and one by one the events of the day before flooded back.

He was married. To a guy. Who was now asleep on his chest. He’d kind of prepared himself for the first two as a transaction that had to happen to complete his mission: save Arkady from getting killed in Russia, and put some money toward Lily’s schooling in the process. But that last one, that encompassed everything he hadn’t been prepared for. Desire for one. Mutual desire at that.

He turned on his side so he could look at Arkady’s face. The face of the man who had actually wanted him. It was hard to believe, but Arkady had had no reason to pretend. He’d had his wedding. And Jason had given him no reason to think he wasn’t on board with the rest of the mission to get him his green card.

And no one had been watching them last night. Arkady could have gone downstairs and passed out on the couch. In fact, Jason had been sure that was what he was going to do. After clocking Jason for not keeping a lid on his shit.

Instead, Arkady had taken up the thread Jason had handed him and proceeded to unravel Jason, inch by inch. That was exactly how he felt: unraveled. He wasn’t sure he liked it. There were parts of it he’d liked—hard to deny that. But it was also unsettling, and he didn’t trust it. People just didn’t stay in his life. If you did something right, people might like you, might acknowledge that you had something to offer, but in the end, they still left. And what he’d offered Arkady didn’t require liking, or wanting to stay.

He carefully extricated himself so he wouldn’t wake Arkady up. The poor guy would have the mother of all hangovers when he did. Better give him a few more hours.

Jason collected his stuff and went to take his shower, then dressed in the bathroom in sweats and a T-shirt. He’d been briefly tempted to use the iWALK, like he would have if he’d been alone. The skin around the stump could use a day’s rest, but it wasn’t too bad, and in the end he didn’t feel quite at ease enough to do without the prothesis. Baby steps.

He made a pot of strong coffee and set up his laptop on the kitchen table, where he could connect it to the printer that was living a life of idleness in a recess under the breakfast bar.

He had a truckload of forms to print.

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