Except from A Bulletproof Heart
“Protecting others at your own expense is only one part of being a soldier or a man in general.” Jonathan’s expression didn’t change, his eyebrows sharply peaked downward as he frowned. “If you do not have a partner, you will die, and you will die young. You have taken on the most dangerous profession barring being a bodyguard or a police officer. Firefighters who charge into conflagrations have better equipment and more people to watch their back. Interfering in matters of possession, control, and interpersonal violence places you at risk. If you have a bulletproof vest, I suggest you wear it and hope Royce doesn’t aim at your head. If you do not, by God, you need one.”
Tristan blushed. He cares. He took one look at me and decided to be involved. To engage and make a difference. Tristan lost his heart to Jonathan Mann on the spot. An older man had decided to intervene, but instead of sounding like a father or an old codger, Jonathan sounded like a man who offered more. “I own one. I’ll put it on in the morning. Promise.” The promise was an act of flirting again, one he hoped Jonathan detected.
The tension fled Jonathan’s shoulders, and they sagged. “All right.” He slowly took a sip of wine, studying Tristan. “It’s possible Royce will discover you are responsible for the evidence that is going to sway the judge to give Ms. Richardson her restraining order against him. He may retaliate.”
Tristan shrugged. “It’s possible. Like I said, I’ll wear my bulletproof vest starting tomorrow.”
“Do you have any friends who may assist in watching your back?”
“I’ve got two friends here in Nashville,” Tristan said. “Calvin Todd and Regan Wade. They co-own The Rainbow Star Club. I’m sure I could crash at either of their places for a few days if Royce stalks me next. I’m not afraid of him.” Since Calvin and Regan were both retired Army like him, they owned guns. Frank Royce would bite off more than he could chew with either of them.
They finished their supper more peacefully, changing the topic to what Nashville offered by way of entertainment and discussing what plays were being performed over the next month or so.
When they finished, Tristan insisted on helping Jonathan clear the table, despite his repeated protests, and carried dishes into the modernized kitchen with its stainless steel appliances. The dog followed, no doubt hoping for scraps. After the dishes were loaded and the leftovers put away, Tristan found himself facing Jonathan in front of the sink. The last rosy orange of the sunset filled the kitchen window and cast its beams on the cabinets. One ray lit Jonathan’s silver-streaked brown hair, and Tristan found himself gazing into Jonathan’s beautiful deep brown eyes.
“Jonathan,” Tristan murmured. He wanted to gather the smaller man into his arms and embrace him. He’d longed for someone to take an interest and care.
“Yes?” Jonathan leaned forward slightly. Anticipation lit his eyes, as well as an unspoken question. “Do—” He visibly checked himself, swallowing his sentence.
“Can I…?” Tristan stepped closer, running one arm around Jonathan and resting his free hand on Jonathan’s cheek. You’re such a beautiful man. He leaned in, signaling his intent.
Jonathan’s breath hitched, and he tipped his head up, eyes shining. “Yes.” As Tristan’s hand lingered on his cheek, his face turned hot under Tristan’s touch. One hand rested on Tristan’s waist, warm and gentle.
Closing the distance, Tristan pressed a gentle kiss to Jonathan’s warm lips. Heat suffused him. He’d always been attracted to older men, and Jonathan’s interest hit him keenly. Have I finally found my man?