Page 40 of Donovan's Men

Doc arched an eyebrow. “An hour ago, you called and said you needed some one-to-one counseling. That you weren’t feeling well. And…” He paused dramatically. “Since I’d made a house call to Cole earlier today, would I mind dropping by?”

“I know this is way out of your way—”

He waved off my concern. “I have a car for a reason. I’ve gone as far as Kamloops to offer therapy to those in need.” He glanced at Tyson. “But something tells me this is about more than counseling.”

Tyson tipped his bottle of soda. “And you told me youmight’veremembered something else. Something tells me this is about more than recalling the events of last week.”

Eight days ago.

Had so little time passed?

Eight days obsessing. Eight days remembering. Eight days regretting.

“Yeah…” I bit my lower lip.

Hamish straightened in his seat on the comfortable couch. In fact, both men sat. Neither at the end, but neither in themiddle. And Tyson was more sprawled than the doctor’s prim and proper stance.

I stood, cradling my arm. “They’re taking the stitches out at the end of the week.”

“That’s great.” Tyson eyed me. “You in less pain?”

“Yeah, I’ve ditched the painkillers and only have another two days of antibiotics.”

“That’s excellent news.” Hamish sipped his tea. His green eyes held wary curiosity.

“I want to talk about us.” I grinned.

Hamish and Tyson exchanged a look.

“There is nous.” Tyson fingered the label on his soda. “I mean, it’s kind of flattering that you think you want me—”

“I do.”

“But my circumstances haven’t changed. I mean, my boss doesn’t care if I’m gay. Hell, I don’t even think she cares if I’m in a three-way relationship.”

Hamish sputtered.

“But she will care very much if I get involved with the victim of a crime I’m investigating.”

“I’m so fucking tired of being seen as a victim.”

“Perhaps survivor is a better word.” Hamish leaned forward. “We can talk about perceptions and how to try to find a different way to move forward.”

“Sure. Whatever. If it means you’ll both see me differently, then sure, let’s do it.”

Hamish cocked his head. “Reframing would be for your benefit. Like Tyson, my boss doesn’t care that I’m gay. She likely wouldn’t care if I were in a throuple. She would, however, take great umbrage with me seeing a client.”

“Fine. I’m not your client anymore. I fire you. I don’t need you—”

“Donovan—”

But I cut him off, pivoting my glare to Tyson. “I’m quite certain you’ve wrapped up your investigation. You’ve spoken to everyone. You’ve written your report.”

“Sure, but—”

“Now that’s settled, let’s talk about us.”

Again, my men exchanged a look.