Page 135 of Too Close To Home

Bigger than the hard-on pressing uselessly between them.

Bigger than almost.

So he tightened his arm around him, drawing him a fraction closer, bringing his other hand up to the back of Harrison’s neck.

After a while, Harrison let out a long breath against him. “This is not especially dignified.”

Jake tipped his head, pressing his mouth to Harrison’s ear. “What? Tough detective crying on a prime suspect’s shoulder with his shirt half undone?” He lifted the corner of his mouth. “Bet this is your play. How you get confessions.”

“It’s very much not.” Harrison lifted his head. “Crying’s not a recognised interview technique. Not in the Met, anyway. Can’t confirm for Yorkshire yet.”

“Never been tried on me.”

Harrison snorted, then sobered. “I’ll wager you don’t often have men cry when you’ve touched them.”

Jake considered that, then shrugged. “Maybe happy tears.”

Harrison held his gaze, as if unsure what to make of that. “Christ.”

Jake chuckled. “Joking.”

Mostly.

Then he brushed his mouth over Harrison’s temple, pressing a kiss so light it barely counted. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you stopped me.”

Harrison was silent for a beat. “Most men usually sound less pleased about that.”

“Then maybe I’m not most men.”

Something changed in Harrison’s face.

Fuck. That came out a bit more earnest than intended.

So Jake rubbed his thumb along the back of Harrison’s neck. “Don’t go spreading that around, though, aye. Got a reputation.”

Harrison breathed out something close to a laugh. His eyes were still bright, his face a little wrecked around the edges, but he was coming back. Jake could see it happening. The panic receding. Harrison finding his feet again. So Jake cupped Harrison’s jaw. Gently. Which was fucking strange in itself, because Jake couldn’t remember ever wanting a man this badly while feeling absolutely no need to do anything about it.

Then he whispered, “Still fancy you.”

Harrison tilted his neck. “Do you?”

“Aye. Bit annoying, really.” Jake sighed. “Cause you’re a copper and, well…unavailable an’ all.”

“Hm.” Harrison dipped his head. “Useful for me to know, though.”

“Thought it might be.”

“Then for what it’s worth…” Harrison met his gaze. “…back at you.”

Warmth spread through Jake’s chest, and he stroked his thumb over the roughness of Harrison’s cheek. “Good. Stick it in your pocket, then. Might come in handy when things are a bit less…” He gestured vaguely between them. “Whatever the fuck all this is.”

“Complicated?”

“Aye. That.”

Harrison chewed on the inside of his cheek. “And if they don’t become less complicated?”

Something about the question landed harder than Jake expected. Because that was possible, wasn’t it? Maybe Harrison wasn’t asking for time. Maybe this was simply as far as he could ever go.