in his best interest, he pulled out his phone. “But my car’s been on the fritz a lot lately, so if it was just to get the mechanic’s number…”
Nicky’s smile lifted his cheeks. “Yeah. Yeah, just so I can call with the guy’s number. I mean there can’t be too many people who know what they’re doing with your kind of car.” Nicky bounced on the balls of his feet. “I’m two-oh-six, five-five-five, three-eight-oh-seven.”
Michael typed in the number and let it ring until Nicky’s voicemail activated. That way Nicky would have Michael’s number too. “Okay?” Michael’s nerves strung tight until he felt a tension headache gathering under his scalp. He shouldn’t have shared his number. This guy could be a psycho, or a stalker. Or worse, a guy who wanted to see Michael on the side, keeping it some big, hairy secret until Michael was left sobbing manly tears into his pillow.
“So, call me with the number. If you want.”
“Yeah.” Nicky rubbed the back of his neck. “Soon as I run into him again. I have to work tomorrow.”
Michael nodded. “Yeah, well, whenever.”
“Yeah.” Brown eyes searched, roaming all over Michael’s body like they were looking for some answer to a question. “Bye.”
“See ya.” Michael unlocked his car and slid into the front seat.
When his engine coughed to life and cooperated enough to get him rolling out of the park, Michael glanced at Nicky in his rearview mirror.
Nicky hadn’t left his spot on the sidewalk. Maybe Michael imagined it, but Nicky swiped his hand like he was making the sign of the cross.
Feeling guilty about what they’d done? Or hoping they’d do it again?
Michael shouldn’t be getting involved with a guy still in the closet. He’d be thinking about that stupid gesture all night, trying to figure out what it meant.
Chapter Four
Nicky wished he could have gone to the gym and gotten the number for Michael the next day, but since his twenty-four-hour shift started at eight a.m., he didn’t have time to think about Michael much less come up with an excuse to call him. All day, he ran between building inspections, training sessions and a car accident that thankfully had no casualties. As evening closed in, he was in a bunk in the firehouse, resting his eyes for a few minutes, so he’d be fresh if he had to go out on a call.
His phone rang like a siren under his fingers—the ringtone he’d set for his mother.
Nicky tensed before he even answered. “Mom?” His mother never called when he was at work.
“Nicky?” She paused to take a labored breath, as if she could barely get in enough air to talk. Instead of speaking, she coughed in a wet hack.
“Shit, Mom.” Panic washed away his guilt over cursing. “Don’t worry about talking, okay. I’m on my way home.” He kicked out of his bunk and dropped to his feet. “You just have to tell me one thing.”
“Mm-hmm?” His mother coughed more softly.
“Do you need me to call an ambulance?” God, those were expensive. His mother had needed one after her second surgery when she’d developed pneumonia. Nicky hoped like hell she didn’t have that again.
“No.” Her breathing was a little calmer now. Labored, but not gasping. “Just, come home.”
“Yeah.” Nicky tucked the phone under his ear as he rushed out of his station uniform and into his regular clothes. He shoved into his shoes, trying to catch his boss’s eye, since Hank was busy with Cody by the truck. “I’ll be home in five minutes, okay? Set your clock if you want.”
His mother said “Mm-hmm” again, like she didn’t dare speak or she’d cough.
“Be right there.” Nicky clicked off the phone.
As he strode in his boss’s direction, Hank looked up. His quick frown and the slump of his shoulders said that he knew what Nicky was coming over to say. “What’s going on?”
Nicky hated having to leave work. With how many personal days he’d already taken, his leave bank was nearly empty. “My