They had come up here knowing it was a longshot. The Ripper selected his victims carefully, mostly preying on the young men who worked at or frequented gay clubs and bars in the cities and large towns connected by the Interstate 5. He chose a vulnerable segment of the population. Victims who were unlikely to be missed. Victims who, even if they were missed, local law enforcement was unlikely to investigate the circumstances of their disappearance.

And the Ripper had been at it a long time. With no end in sight.

Azure appeared with their drinks and Adam’s dinner. The speed at which that entrée had been delivered was not encouraging. Adam dug in anyway. Azure, now flirting with the guys at the next table, removed their empties and departed.

Rob said in a different tone of voice, “Not that I mind you being here.” He smiled with deliberate charm at Adam and Adam smiled back, relieved that they were getting back on track. If there had still been a case here, they would not be doing this dance. He didn’t believe in getting involved with coworkers and team members. Not after Tucker. Not after the way that relationship had ended. Never again.

But this was not their case, and he would never see Deputy Rob Haskell after tonight.

He smiled back and said, “Good. Because this is right where I want to be.”

Rob’s smile widened.

Three drinks and one mediocre plate of Chicken Alfredo later, Adam and Rob walked back through the soaked grass and tall trees to Adam’s cabin.

The lights were out at Jonnie’s, which Adam was glad to see. Not that Jonnie would have much, if anything, to say about this. That was another reason he hated losing her as his partner. He liked keeping his private life private. I think the word is covert, she’d said when the topic had come up in regards to who he’d be bringing to the wedding.

Adam fumbled with the key and Rob laughed.

“You bothered to lock it?”

“Paranoia is good for the soul.”

“Probably not.”

“Probably not,” Adam agreed. He pushed the door open and groped around for a light switch.

Rob brushed past him, and a moment later one of the table lamps flared into life. “There we go.” He smiled and the triangle of light threw a sinister shadow across his face.

Not his first rodeo, clearly. Not even his first rodeo in this cabin. Which was fine. It didn’t matter to Adam. He was curious though.

“So you are out then?”

Rob, in the process of unbuckling his belt, laughed. He yanked down his jeans and shorts. “I am tonight.”

Yes, he was.

Adam laughed too, shrugging out of his tailored suit jacket and removing his shoulder holster. He couldn’t help noticing that Rob was not wearing his own weapon.

“You’re not carrying?”

Rob tossed his own shirt onto Adam’s computer case. “I’m off duty.”

Once again Adam bit back a comment that might potentially put a crimp in current events. Maybe his very lack of expression was a tell to another LEO because Rob grinned and said, “It’s okay. You’ll protect me, right?”

He realized that he kind of liked Rob’s goofy sense of humor. “Yeah. I’ll protect you.”

Rob, now totally and, frankly, magnificently naked, walked over to him and wrapped Adam in his arms. He whispered, “But who’s going to protect you?”

Adam wound his arms around Rob’s broad shoulders, and bumped suggestively, cock to cock.

Rob’s shoulders were broad, his arms muscular. His thighs were muscular too, pressing against Adam’s. He had a strong, athletic body—tight and toned beneath skin like hot silk. Adam let his hands wander, enjoying touching, exploring…

Rob groaned. “Jesus, there’s something about a man who isn’t in uniform.”

That made Adam laugh. Rob was a funny guy. He was not used to sex being a light and playful thing. Pleasurable yes, definitely. Also biological necessity and stress relief. Rob’s jokes caught him off guard—as did Rob’s attempt to kiss him.

He liked the scent of Scotch on warm breath. Rob’s full lips were both firm and soft, but it was too personal. Too reminiscent of someone else. He dodged Rob’s mouth, nuzzling him beneath his ear, beneath his jaw, bouncing against him again, pointedly now. More thrust than bounce. Whatever they were doing, he wanted to get on with it.

“What do you want?” Rob’s voice was deep and rough. “Just say. Whatever it is…”

That was generous. Unusually generous. “Have you got a condom?”

“Uh…yeah. Hold on…”

“Not going anywh—” Adam broke off, breath squeezing out in a wheeze as Rob ducked, hauling him into a clumsy shoulder carry, and dumping him onto the bed. Something beneath him gave a loud crack, and the mattress sank in the middle like it was deflating.

Rob’s expression was priceless and Adam started to laugh.

“Pretend you didn’t notice that.” Rob was chuckling too, hunting through his jeans. He met Adam’s eyes, mimed frantic haste and ripping his jeans in two, and Adam laughed again.

He didn’t fail to notice though that when Rob landed on the bed next to him, he was perfectly sure of his welcome, amused, and a little smug. Not a clown, but not afraid to play the clown if it got him what he wanted.

“You’ve got really green eyes,” Rob commented. “I can tell the color even in this light.”

“You’ve got a really big cock,” Adam returned, reaching for him. “I can tell the size even i—”

It was good. Just what he’d needed. Exactly what he’d needed.

Adam wore the condom and Rob let himself be taken, hairy legs propped on Adam’s shoulders as he gazed dark-eyed and intense into Adam’s face. Not submission. Just being a good ambassador. Welcome to Nearby. Come for the serial killer and stay for the lousy Chicken Alfredo.

If Adam were staying another day, Rob would wear the condom the next time and Adam would be the one getting pleasurably nailed to the musty mattress.

But if Adam was staying another day, they wouldn’t be doing this anyway.

He glanced down and Rob’s cock was huge, engorged, and ruddy, thrusting up needy and eager over the taut plane of Rob’s abs. His skin was unexpectedly, disarmingly snowy white. Like he didn’t get to spend much time in the sun. Which, this being Oregon, he probably didn’t.

“Yeah, come on,” Rob whispered urgently. “Bring it home.”

Something like that. Adam wasn’t listening. No one ever said anything intelligent during sex. Including himself. It was all about physical sensation, his own mostly, though he hoped it was good for Rob too. From a distance it sounded like it was.

Adam threw his head back and rolled his hips. Rob was pushing back, matching his rhythm easily, and the slick heat of him was just…

“Good. So goddamned good,” Adam muttered. He was down to short strokes now, hips rocking, pumping furiously, a labor of delight. The base of his spine tingled, his balls tightened, hold on…just a few seconds longer…

The world shrank to this. A sweaty, lathered midnight ride, hell for leather, racing through the dark toward—

Oh God.

Hot, wet burst of exquisite release. He saw stars. He felt stars.

He yelled, and somewhere in the night Rob yelled back.

And the urgency, the need that had been driving him slowed, slowed, stumbled to a walk and then a limp, and then stopped, trembling and woozy.

Rob arched, yelled again…only it turned into a yodel. A yodel?

“Yodel-Aye-EEE-Oooo!”

Yeah, a yodel. Followed by laughter. This guy had been in the mountains too long.

“Jesus fucking God that was great,” Rob proclaimed finally. Even in the gloom his eyes were shining and his teeth were white. Maybe he got laid even less than Adam.

Wet, sticky, spent, Adam crashed down beside him. “You were great,” he said, and squeezed Rob’s shoulder. Or he hoped it was Rob’s shoulder. Maybe it was his knee. His eyelids felt weighted. The room smelled of sex and old linens and Rob. That was one hell of a nice aftershave. He closed his eyes.