Full Disclosure (Real Estate Relations Book 1) Page 3

  There wasn’t much else of value in the apartment, though, so it was hard to discern an intruder’s exact motives. My battered laptop had been with me all day; my TV was ancient. But then who would look at my apartment and think that it contained anything worth money? It was a shithole.

  Thinking of the rest of my shadowy apartment, easily capable of hiding any number of intruders, I jumped to my feet and fumbled my phone into my hand. Quickly, I dialed 911.

  “Hi, my apartment’s been broken into.”

  As I walked through the apartment, I turned on every light I came across, my skin prickling with the sense someone was watching me. Probably my imagination, but I had a feeling my mind would be my enemy tonight.

  I talked loudly on the phone with the emergency dispatcher, hoping that it would dissuade any rash acts of violence should I stumble across someone, but my voice was shaky and my pulse rushed in my ears so loudly I could hardly hear the words on the other end of the phone line.

  After I gave my address and confirmed officers would be arriving soon, I approached my bedroom cautiously.

  The mattress was stripped of bedding and flipped off the bedsprings. There wasn’t a single item of clothing in my dresser or the closet that hadn’t been pulled out and dumped on the floor.

  “Whyyy,” I moaned as I began fruitlessly gathering up clothes, only to drop them into a heap on top of the mattress. My eyes roamed the room, wondering where to start to put it back to rights. I had no idea; it was far too overwhelming.

  Then I remembered the dispatcher’s advice to leave things be, and collapsed on the mattress to wait for patrol officers while obsessively listening for footsteps over the sound of my own breathing.

  The karma pendulum had swung back to misfortune. I should have known my good luck in getting the Ivy Lane listing wouldn’t last.

  ***

  Reid

  “This is a stupid idea.”

  I turned to my passenger, who now looked like a younger, more stylish college student than the rough witness I’d originally met. We’d been on the road for four days, slowed slightly by the time required to obtain proper identification and our stop at a salon to make Lee more presentable.

  He’d gotten his hair chopped into a sharply angled style, and for some reason had decided he needed a chunk of his bangs dyed burgundy. This Lee liked to express himself, he’d told me sarcastically when I gave him a hard time. But maybe he was onto something. The new look fit better with the skinny jeans — not just blue, but some maroon and some black — and mix of T-shirts and fitted button-downs the assistant had bought for him.

  I didn’t forget that youthful face or not, Lee was a criminal. Even if he was just a baby drug pusher, he’d chosen the wrong path and proven he wasn’t a trustworthy person.

  “Which part’s stupid? That they didn’t throw your ass straight into prison or that I’m actually risking my life to protect you?”

  Lee gave me an unimpressed look. “That we have to act like boyfriends. That part.”

  He shuddered dramatically.

  “For a badass criminal, you’re a fucking drama queen, you know that?”

  He flipped me off. “Screw you. I’m just saying it’s a terrible cover.”

  I kept my eyes on the road despite Lee’s rude hand gestures. It was pitch black in this area of the country, where the highway stretched for miles between towns. I was more accustomed to busy metro areas where cities were so close they blended together.

  “We can’t exactly pass as relatives,” I pointed out.

  We were both gay, so the cover wouldn’t be too difficult to pull off. People would probably think I was fucking him, regardless of the story, so we might as well go for the easily accepted “truth.” Why else would a 22-year-old be living with a 35-year-old? Our age gap was pretty significant. We could be co-workers or friends on vacation, but we needed a cover that would allow us to stay for weeks, maybe months if it became necessary.

  Besides, he’d been in the closet at home, so none of the gang members would be searching for a gay couple in the middle of the country.

  In the seat next to me, he huffed. “You and me, though? Come on. People will think I’m some kept boy or something.”

  Lee had a point. He was too young for me, and he had a slim body type that would stereotype him a twink.

  In truth, he was anything but a twink. He and his brothers might have been raised in a comfortable middle-class lifestyle, but before they’d gotten targeted by the gang, they’d immersed themselves in the drug trade enough to earn rap sheets. They’d been running their own circle of drug runners and had engaged in all the violent activity that came with the drug trade. According to his rap sheet, Lee had once beaten a guy to within an inch of his life. The gang never would have bothered with them if they were small potatoes. No, the brothers had been ambitious. Too ambitious for their own good.

  “You’re probably right,” I said.

  “What? And that’s okay with you?” he squawked.

  I grimaced and stuck a finger in my ear. “Swear to God, you’re gonna break my eardrum.”

  “If only,” he muttered.

  With the information leak, time was of the essence, so Lee and I got to know each other on the long drive from California to Kansas. He learned I was gay too and my plans for a cover story. Joke was on him. He’d looked horrified by it, and I chuckled a little every time he bitched about it. And he bitched about it a lot.

  He yawned, his jaw cracking his mouth went so wide. “Should have stopped for the night.”

  “We’re almost there,” I said. “I don’t know about you, but I’m sick of traveling.”

  During our travel time, I’d been busy getting our new lives in place. While on the road, I placed a call to one of my best contacts to get a line on job options for Lee. The more settled we appeared, the better. Besides, the saying about idle hands was all too true. The busier Lee stayed, the less trouble he’d be.

  My contact — who happened to be my mother, not that I’d admit that short of torture — still had a lot of ties with the community where she grew up. With her help, I’d secured a job for Lee at a local sandwich shop with practically no questions asked, but he had to start immediately. The quick turnaround wasn’t ideal, but at least he wouldn’t have time to get restless.

  You have to love small towns — and mothers who know their son’s job well enough not to pry too deeply.

  Flipping on the blinker, I pointed at the sign on the side of the highway. It read “Welcome to Fields, Kansas. Population: 28,901.”

  “We’re almost home, baby.”

  Lee took one look at the sign and dropped his head back against the headrest, eyes closing.

  “I should’ve let them kill me.”

  I patted the man’s thin thigh. “It’s not like we have to be social butterflies. We only have to be boyfriends in public. And hell, if you don’t want to be viewed as some kept boy, we’ll just prove to them that stereotypes are meant to be broken. Right?”

  He sighed. “Whatever.”

  “That’s the spirit!”

  Chapter 4

  Camden

  Two hours after I found my home ransacked, I let myself into the “monstrosity” I’d listed on Ivy Lane.

  The officers had come and taken a report, for all the good it would do. Nothing but the baseball cards had been stolen, so there wasn’t much they could do beyond making a few calls to pawnshops to see if the cards turned up. They also noted the incident in case of future problems. I certainly hoped it didn’t happen again.

  I’d wracked my brain trying to think of why someone would target my apartment. I hadn’t been living there long, so it’s possible the prior tenant was the intended victim. Beyond that, I was out of ideas. The building had seen better days, so while the apartment may have seemed an easy break-in with lax security, it also screamed “no money here.”

  Giving a mental shrug — I’d puzzle on it later — I locked the front door of the Ivy Lane hou
se behind me and carried my duffel bag into the bathroom. It wasn’t exactly appropriate to stay in the property, but I didn’t have many options.

  Miguel was my only friend right now, and he didn’t have the ideal set-up for a house guest. I’d worn out my welcome there when I broke up with Austin. Plus, I didn’t want him to know how dire my situation had become. I had no family nearby and little spare cash to get a hotel room. I’d tried, pointlessly, to get my landlord to fix the door. I’d be lucky if it got done this week, much less in one night.

  So, here I was. Squatting in my own listing.

  I snorted in disgust and stripped off my clothes, eager for a shower.

  It’d been a long day between humiliating hot dog duty and disappointing evening showings that would yield nothing. I wrinkled my nose at my own smell and stepped into the shower. Good thing I wasn’t a germaphobe, because there was a serious case of grime and mold going on. I wore some flip-flops I kept for trips to the gym and avoided touching any walls.

  Immediately, the hot water relaxed me and I hummed in contentment as I lathered and rinsed away the day’s sweat.

  Thank God, the property owner had agreed to have the utilities turned on to ensure everything worked. I might be in a vacant house, but I had hot water and electricity. There was even a bed, though it was probably musty and infested with bed bugs. Shudder. Good thing I’d brought my sleeping bag.

  Cleaned up and in a better frame of mind, I stepped from the shower and gave my skin a quick scrub before securing the towel around my hips. Then, I left the bathroom in search of fresh clothing.

  Turning into the bedroom where I left my duffel, I glimpsed movement from the corner of my eye and jumped.

  Holy Jesus, WTF?

  A man. Big and tall and dark stood in the doorway.

  My heart tried to beat out of my chest, and I pressed my free hand to my breastbone to soothe the ache. My other hand kept a death grip on the towel at my waist.

  “Shit!” I gasped when I could speak. “Who the hell are you?”

  ***

  Reid

  I rested my palm on my hip, my concealed firearm within easy reach in a holster inside my waistband.

  My eyes narrowed on the half-naked man in my great-uncle’s vacant house. When Lee and I pulled up, I’d noticed an older model Honda Accord parked at the curb but figured it belonged to the neighbor. As a precaution, I asked Lee to wait by the door while I ensured the house was empty. The massive amount of junk in the place was no picnic when scouring dark rooms for a malicious presence, and I’d damn near pulled my weapon and shot this guy first and asked questions second.

  I looked at the miles of bare skin on display. At least I wouldn’t need to search for weapons. He couldn’t hide much in that state.

  “Who the hell are you?” I parroted his words back to him.

  Lee was still waiting at the door, and I was uneasy being so far from my witness with this unknown factor thrown into the works. I strained for any hint of sound, but I heard no signs of a struggle. Whoever came for Lee wouldn’t mess around, though. They’d pull the trigger and go. If they used a silencer, I might not hear it. He could be dead even now.

  But it wouldn’t make a lot of sense. Someone involved in tracking down Lee wouldn’t take a shower and traipse around half-naked. Maybe after a killing, if it was particularly messy ...

  Shaking off that morbid thought, my gaze swept the room for other intruders before returning to wide blue eyes, genuinely startled eyes, and blond hair. The stranger’s expression eased my tension a fraction. I had a good track record for reading people, and this guy was sincerely surprised to see me.

  Without my permission, my eyes dipped, taking in the expanse of pale skin over a slender but extremely toned body.

  “I … um,” the man floundered, gaping like a fish sucking air. “Wait, are you Reid Bishop?”

  My eyes snapped back to the man’s blushing face, and my eyebrows shot up.

  “I am,” I said, adding two and two.

  My hand dropped from my hip, and my muscles fully relaxed for the first time since spotting Camden Lewis.

  “You must be my real estate agent,” I added dryly.

  Camden turned bright red, placing one trembling hand over his eyes. “I am so sorry.”

  “I realize I asked you to look after the property, but living here goes above and beyond your duty, surely.”

  Camden’s hand lowered, revealing his gorgeous eyes once more. He really was an attractive man with sandy-blond hair that fell over his forehead and hung a little too low over his ears. His floppy hair framed pretty, almost delicate features and intriguing blue eyes — and not that pale sky blue I had seen so many times before, but a darker shade made up of many layers of color that added depth and richness.

  “I’m not living here,” Camden said with a nervous laugh. “It’s … extenuating circumstances. I realize this is unusual—”

  I frowned, unhappy with the situation and the position in which it placed my cover with Lee. We weren’t ready for an audience, but we had one, and I couldn’t leave my witness out of sight any longer.

  “Get dressed, Mr. Lewis,” I interrupted. “Then you can explain what the hell you’re doing here.”

  “Y-yeah, okay,” Camden stammered, glancing down at his bare chest as if just realizing he was partially naked.

  His flush spread down his neck and chest as he scurried across the room to a duffel bag sitting against a wall. I might have questioned its presence, but the house was still furnished with my great-uncle’s belongings, and the man was clearly a hoarder.

  I turned to the doorway.

  “Hey, honey! Come on in here!”

  ***

  Camden

  I whirled, shocked to realize Mr. Bishop wasn’t alone. How mortifying.

  Hurriedly, I snagged a T-shirt and yanked it over my head before pulling on briefs under my towel. I’d rather dress more professionally for our first meeting, but once you meet a guy in nothing but a towel, business casual takes on a whole new meaning.

  Well, I’d made a lasting impression, if not a good one.

  Please don’t let him pull the listing.

  Footsteps clomped through the door, followed by a startled breath.

  “Who’s that? And why isn’t he dressed? Holy hell, did you just have a quickie while I was waiting by the door?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Reid rumbled, and then lowered his voice.

  I could hear them whispering as I pulled jeans up over my ass, blushing furiously. I couldn’t remember a more embarrassing situation in my entire life, and I worked as a hot dog for goodness’ sake!

  “This is my real estate agent, Camden Lewis. He was apparently watching over the house until I got to town.”

  Lee snorted. “And I’m a schoolteacher.”

  Reid laughed like that was a funny statement. When I steeled my nerve to look at them, I could see why.

  Lee — whoever he was, and I could only assume he was Reid’s lover, given that Reid had called him honey — was about as far from the image of schoolteacher as you could get. He looked young, as in barely out of high school young, and rebellious. His dark hair was cut at an angle, with a large wine-red chunk falling over his eyes. And the planes of his face were sharp, his smile a slash that wasn’t remotely friendly.

  I stepped forward, feeling a pressing need to clarify the situation before Lee decided I was competition. The man exuded hostility in some undefinable way. Maybe it was the dark eyes or the defined muscles that flexed when he crossed his arms over his chest. Whatever the reason, I felt uneasy.

  And a little disappointed.

  Reid matched his sexy voice perfectly. Tall, broad shoulders, dark hair buzzed short and matching his stubble. His skin was lightly baked, which made sense given that he’d just come from California. He looked good enough to eat, but despite being exactly my type, he wouldn’t be my dessert.

  Even if Reid were in my league, I didn’t mess with taken men.
And as yummy as he might be, I wanted this house listing more than I wanted his body.

  “I’d like to explain, if I may?”

  Reid nodded permission, so I took a deep breath and hoped they’d understand.

  “My apartment was broken into tonight, so this is absolutely the first time I’ve been here for personal reasons.”

  Reid’s eyebrow arched. He looked skeptical. His boyfriend smirked, as if the entire situation amused him. I didn’t like the feeling I was either a suspect or a joke, but what could I do? I soldiered on, aiming for my best professional tone.

  “Beyond that, there was a report of suspicious activity at the property. A couple of men were spotted out back. I didn’t find any sign of trespassers, but I figured as long as I was homeless, I could spend the night here and keep an eye on things. Sort of kill two birds with one stone.”

  I hadn’t heard of any suspicious activity at the house since last week, when I’d stopped by, so it was a stretch. But desperate times called for desperate measures.

  “Yeah, right,” Lee said. “That report was probably caused by you, living here in Reid’s house.”

  “No, no, I swear—” I started, waving my hands in dismissal of his accusation.

  Reid cut across my effusive denial. “I believe you, Mr. Lewis. You’ve got an honest face.”

  I sighed with relief.

  “I didn’t realize you were here already. I assumed the house was still empty.”

  “We just got in tonight,” Lee said. He pursed his lips. “Well, this has been an exciting start to my stay in Fields.”

  “And you thought it would be boring,” Reid said with a grin.

  “But what do we do with the homeless real estate agent?”

  I didn’t like that they were talking about me as if I weren’t here. Once again, I was the butt of the joke with this sharp-tongued boyfriend.