Page 19 of Donovan's Men

Tyson winced. “Sorry. Already worried about traffic. Plus, I’m never going to see the guy again.” He glanced back. “Really nice guy—I think he can help you.”

Oh, I was pretty sure as well that Hamish could—just not in the way Tyson meant. “He’s cute.”

Tyson disarmed his car and opened the door for me. I resented the help but was also grateful—my left arm had gotten quite a workout today. I slipped in, and he shut the door. Before I could blink, he was around to his side, in the door, and reaching over to secure my seat belt.

All my other chauffeurs in the past day had let me struggle. Tyson had let me struggle earlier, at the studio. Obviously, something had changed. He was getting more comfortable with me. I was getting more comfortable with him.

How do you see this playing out?

Articulating the idea in my mind proved challenging, but I was undeterred. I wanted Tyson. I wanted Hamish. I’d do everything in my power to get both.

Chapter Four

Tyson

As I waited in my cold car for Donovan to come down from visiting Cole Hamilton in the hospital, I went through a series of debates in my mind.

Should I turn on the heat?

Nope—global warming is a thing, and you don’t want to contribute to carbon pollution.

Should I offer Donovan cab fare and head back to the office?

Nope—you offered to take him home, and you want him safe.

Should I offer to see him to the door and go in if he invites me?

Danger. Danger. Danger.

And yeah, of course you should. There…might be a burglar in his house or something.

Or something.

Donovan would be safe. From the outside world, at least. From me was a whole different story.

I wanted to fight the attraction—to deny the urges my body made when I looked at the man. Over the years, I’d trained myself to never use a description of the body first. I’d say to a woman that she was intelligent, witty, smart…thencompliment her attractiveness. By the same logic, I should find something about Donovan I found attractive other than his hunky body.

Like his quick wit, willingness to sacrifice his own life, or his deep understanding of what made people tick.

His treatment of Dr. Hamish McAllister made that abundantly clear.

At every turn, Donovan had Hamish’s number. I’d never seen a man blush so often. Or do it in just such a flawless way. Dochad pale skin that perfectly reflected his every sentiment. He had no guile. Let everything show. How he survived as a counselor, I had no idea. I was on the pale side myself—mid-winter, at least—and I ensured my features were always schooled.

Hamish’s blushes had me wanting to delve deeper with him as well.

The men presented a study in contrasts—and I found both attractive.

It’d been a long time since I’d let myself feel attracted to a man. Being married for all those years had me closing off aspects of my sexuality—I’d had my wife, and that had been enough. I hadn’t looked at other peoplethatway. Sure, I could note someone met or exceeded society’s arbitrary definition ofbeautiful, but I never let myself sink into wanting them physically. I maintained fidelity in both body and mind. Truthfully, I’d been okay with that.Death do us partand all that. I believed then—and still did today—that someone could pick a partner and be devoted for their entire lives. Twelve years I’d given Tammy—a good chunk of my adult life. For all that, she’d left me anyway.

And Donovan? Hamish? Neither’d come out and said they were gay, but I’d have bet money both were. Donovan seemed like a guy who might swing both ways, but that was just an impression. Maybe because he’d be so clearly attractive to both genders.

Well, so would Hamish. All lean and endearingly awkward. Chicks dug guys like that…and certain men would as well.

I’d never had a type. Yeah, that sounded improbable, but I was just being honest with myself. I could be looking at someone devastatingly beautiful—and if they had a black heart, I wouldn’t give them a moment’s notice.

Glancing over at the hospital, I was just about to turn on the engine when I spotted Donovan sprinting over. I leaned over to open the door, and he caught it, slid in, and had it closed.

He exhaled, then cocked his head at me. “You like icicles?”