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Nathan opened his mouth to argue, no doubt, so Avery continued. “Me? I spent eleven years in the United States Marine Corps. I was Force Recon and good at my job. Uncle Sam found out I could see glimpses of the future and recruited me for the PWP. I spent a year there in training and worked a few missions before they shut it down. That’s me in a nutshell.”

“Great. A jarhead with control issues. Just what I need on top of Malcolm’s psychopathic tendencies.”

“We’ll find him. You need to be patient.” But Avery knew better. Asking Nathan to be patient was like asking him to shut up for two seconds—not gonna happen. “Point of fact: we’re here not only to find your uncle. We need that blade he’s carrying. It’s special, it’s dangerous, and it belongs to our client.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

Nathan rose from the floor and moved to sit on the edge of his bed. He stared down at his hands.

Avery had the feeling he had something on his mind he hadn’t yet shared about the case, but Nathan said nothing more about his uncle. Instead he cleared his throat. “I don’t want you carting my ass out of bars anymore.”

Avery agreed. Four nights was four nights too many. “Then quit getting so drunk you can’t tell one partner from another.” Avery didn’t like how territorial he’d felt last night in the bar. What the hell should he care if Nathan fucked every guy standing? “I overheard your boyfriend say he had plans to share your ass with two of his buddies, and they didn’t seem to care if you were willing or not.”

Nathan remained silent.

“The fact that I heard them and you didn’t is telling. One touch and you’d have known you were dealing with bad news. But you had no friggin’ clue.”

Nathan could touch an object and know its history. Psychometry, the art of knowing the history of an object by touching it. Nathan was the only one on the team with that particular talent, and he’d been an invaluable asset time and time again. Probably the reason Jack kept him on, considering Nathan’s propensity for getting into trouble. Had Nathan reached out and touched his date’s jacket, he would have sensed the bad vibes radiating from the weasel-faced asshole.

“Well, shit.” Nathan ran a hand through his disheveled hair, and it made him look that much sexier.

Avery did his best to ignore the attraction, the way he’d been ignoring it for the past year, and continued berating his partner. “You know all about me. Now you? Who the hell knows? A foursome might be an average night on the town for Nathan Kraft. But no way in hell I’d let a buddy of mine fuck a stranger when he’s so drunk he can barely stand.” Nathan’s clear chagrin gratified. Maybe he’d finally gotten through to the guy. “Don’t worry.” Avery rubbed his bruised knuckles, hidden under the sheet, against the bed. “I left them consoling each other when they knew they couldn’t have you. You want ’em so bad? Go back tonight, sober. I’m sure they’ll be there.” And it won’t bother me one bit. Not at all. Nope. Not going there.

The gay bar he’d fished Nathan out of had been hopping with men out to hook up. Half of them had been fucking in plain sight in the hallways at the back of the club. So not what Avery had needed to see while he’d been carrying his sexy, aggravating partner away.

“Please. That bar was a dive. I was drunk.”

“And desperate,” Avery added for good measure, pleased when Nathan glared at him. If the man was angry, he couldn’t be sad.

“I suppose you want me to thank you?”

“Why would I expect gratitude from you? That would imply you have manners. Look, princess, if you’re done with your hissy fit, can I get some sleep? Hauling your ass around at three in the morning cut into my night. Wake me by ten.” With that, he turned away from Nathan, no longer able to see the man who occupied his thoughts too much for his peace of mind. With any luck, he wouldn’t dream. Or at least, he wouldn’t dream of Nathan.

Nathan glared at the giant mound of testosterone in the bed next to him but couldn’t rightly argue with the guy. Once again Avery had had his back. Maybe Jack had been right to send the big jerk along for the ride. God knew, Nathan wasn’t thinking straight.

He left his own bed and undressed as he walked to the bathroom. He purposely left a trail of nasty clothes, knowing it would annoy the neat freak he’d been partnered with. Nathan didn’t know why, but annoying Avery actually made him feel good when he’d been feeling nothing but bad for days.

He’d been out of his mind with grief since he’d gotten the news, unable to think of anything but his aunt drowning in a pool of her own blood.

No, not my aunt. My mom.

For ten years he’d lived with the woman, thinking her his aunt. After Michelle Kraft died in a hit-and-run accident when he’d just passed his tenth birthday, he’d gone to live with her sister. Life was by no means perfect, far from it. But once they’d gotten Uncle Malcolm out of their lives, he’d found a true home. He’d had a life filled with love and happiness, cared for by a woman who understood him, who accepted his psychic nature and his sexuality without question.

And now she was dead, because the past never stayed buried.

He shut the door of the bathroom behind him, relieved his bladder, and heated up the shower. He stepped inside and let the water sluice over him, as if it could clean away the doubt and confusion and guilt that caked his mind.

Tears welled, and he wiped the offending emotion away. He couldn’t handle thoughts of the past again, so he concentrated instead on the here and now. On the job. Avery had that right at least. Mindless, drunken sex with strangers wouldn’t numb the pain. He’d been there, done that. It didn’t work. Not to mention, it wasn’t safe. He really should thank Avery, but then the bastard would be even more unbearable to live with.

At the thought, Nathan’s cock hardened. As annoying as Avery Holton—Major Avery Holton—could be, there was no avoiding the fact that Nathan responded to him in every way. Excitement blossomed whenever he and Avery butted heads, which was often. But for Nathan, the arguments masked his attraction. Dealing with a half-naked Avery Holton in a hotel room, with nothing between them but a thin sheet and maybe a pair of underwear, was close to driving him insane.

And it made no sense. Nathan was smarter than that. He knew better than to try to convince a straight man to try something new. Recriminations and hatred festered. He didn’t plan to go that route. Once was enough, and he’d learned a valuable lesson.

There were enough playmates to be had without resorting to the unattainable. He had his share of willing men waiting for him at home in Bend. Even out here, in bumfuck Pennsylvania, the gays flocked to him. Hell, if he were some other dude, he’d fuck himself in a heartbeat. He had looks and charm, and he knew it. Aunt Danielle had always said—

No, fucking don’t go there. The hollow feeling in his chest nauseated him, and he reached blindly for the soap. Concentrating on getting clean, he calmed himself enough to think about anything but her.

His looks and outgoing personality had stood him well through life. It didn’t hurt that he liked sports and being physical. The years spent playing football in high school and college had helped his segue into physical training. But in that line of work, the constant touch, learning about things best kept secret, had pushed him out of that occupation into consultant work for various security firms and police departments. He’d made a good bit of money, and then someone from the government called. Why work local when he could work federal? Added to that, they’d offered to help him harness and control his gift, maybe even expand it.