Puzzle by Nora Phoenix

34

He’d slept in his own bed the first night. Ryder hadn’t been sure what to do when it was time to call it a day. He and Branson had spent the rest of the evening getting Ryder settled by assembling his bed, putting his clothes in the closet, and they’d had fun with all of Ryder’s puzzles for a good hour. Branson had tried a few, but he hadn’t been able to solve even one.

But then it had been bedtime, and Ryder had wondered what to do. Would Branson assume they’d have sex? Did he have to initiate something, give some kind of signal? In the end, Branson had made it easy. He’d leaned in, giving Ryder plenty of chance to protest, and then kissed his cheeks and said, “I’m thrilled you moved in, chéri. Sleep well.”

And with that, he’d walked out. Ryder had taken a shower, sticky from sweating during the move, and crawled into his own bed. So they weren’t in each other’s way as they got up that morning. He drew a deep breath, then walked into the kitchen, where the coffee machine was already spluttering as it filled a large travel mug and where the smell of bacon hung in the air.

“Good morning,” he said hesitantly.

Branson swiveled around. “Good morning. Did you sleep well?”

“I did.”

“What do you eat for breakfast? We didn’t discuss that yesterday.”

“Oatmeal with milk, but anything else is fine.”

“Oatmeal?” Branson shuddered. “Why on earth would you subject yourself to that horror every day? You genuinely love that stuff?”

“Love? No. But it’s quick and easy to make, and it’s healthy.”

“Perhaps, but so is avocado, and that shit tastes like snot.”

Ryder snorted. “I don’t like it either.”

“See? We can agree on that. Anyway, the discussion is moot, since I don’t have oatmeal. I can make you some scrambled eggs and bacon?”

Ryder bit his lip. “You don’t have to cook for me. That’s not… That isn’t part of the deal of me living here.”

Branson put a hand on his shoulder. “It’s breakfast, chéri. I’m making it for myself anyway.”

“Okay. Yes, please, in that case. I love bacon.”

Branson let go of him. “If you didn’t, I’d have ordered your head examined. I’m suspicious of people who hate bacon.”

Ryder chuckled. “What about vegetarians and vegans? You don’t trust any of them?”

Branson scratched his chin. “I’ll make an exception for them, but if you like meat but not bacon, there’s something wrong with you.”

He turned back to the counter, where he deftly cracked a few eggs in a bowl, added some salt and pepper and a dash of milk, then whisked them.

“Why don’t you grab plates?” he said to Ryder.

“I…I don’t know where everything is.”

“So open all the cabinets and drawers to find out. You live here now, chéri. This is your home, so treat it as such.”

Right. This would take some time to get used to, wouldn’t it? He found plates and silverware, as well as napkins. Branson’s coffee was done, and so Ryder put a lid on his mug. He studied the machine. He was used to a Keurig, but this was a different kind. Did it even use pods?

“I’ll show you how to make coffee after we’re done eating,” Branson said. “Why don’t you pour what’s in my travel mug into two mugs so we can share it?”

Bless him. This was way too much thinking before Ryder had drunk his coffee. Minutes later, they both sat at the high top in the kitchen behind a steaming plate with eggs and bacon, though Ryder was far more interested in the coffee that tickled his nose with its tempting aroma. He tentatively took a sip. The rich, robust flavor exploded on his tongue, and he moaned. “Holy crap, this is good coffee…”

Branson grinned, raising an eyebrow. “If I’d known that was all it takes to make you moan…”

Ryder laughed but quickly took another sip. This was by far the best coffee he’d ever had. They chatted during breakfast, then put everything away. Operating the coffee machine was complicated, but Ryder was certain he’d be able to do it himself next time. For now, they both had a lovely travel mug filled with delicious goodness.

“Do you want to drive together?” Branson asked.

Oh, right. Ryder hadn’t even thought about that. His initial reaction was to say he’d drive himself, but why would he? They went home at the same time anyway. He might as well lower carbon emissions by ridesharing. “Sure. Your car or mine?”

Branson quirked an eyebrow. “Do I want to take the brand-new, environmentally friendly Tesla or my fuel-guzzling SUV? Sheesh, hard choice.”

Ryder held up his hands. “Fine, fine.”

The ride to work was quick and relaxed, and Ryder was surprised by how normal it felt. He’d expected some awkwardness, especially considering they’d slept together, but it felt natural.

The morning flew by as he caught up on emails, and before he knew it, it was time for lunch. Should he ask Branson to come with him? They’d been sharing lunch more often than not lately, so why wouldn’t he? The fact that he had become his roommate shouldn’t make a difference.

He stopped by Branson’s office and found him chatting with Weston. “Hey, Ryder,” Weston said. “What’s up?”

“Nothing. I mean, I wanted to check if Branson wanted to have lunch, but I can come back later.”

“No, you’re fine,” Weston said. “We were done anyway. Coulson called. We can expect the first boxes and files here around three. The FBI has raided Kingmakers and the four contractors, and they’ve taken all computers, files, and paperwork. They’re still cataloging it to preserve the chain of evidence, but they’re sending the first batch over as soon as possible.”

“Yay.” Ryder rubbed his hands. “I can’t wait to see what they’ve been hiding.”

Weston and Branson both laughed. “I love how excited you are about fraud,” Branson teased.

“Not about fraud. About discovering fraud, about proving it,” Ryder corrected him, but he hadn’t taken offense.

“You two make a great team,” Weston said. “I’m stoked you fit in so well, Ryder. You’re an asset to our group.”

“Thank you. Oh, I wanted to ask you. I moved over the weekend. Should I tell you the new address or send an email to HR?”

“To HR is fine. Where did you move to? You were up in Frederick, no?”

Ryder nodded. “To McLean, so a much shorter commute. I moved in with Branson.”

He saw no reason to keep that a secret. HR would find out anyway when he put in the change of address.

“Oh, congrats! I didn’t know things were going that fast between you two,” Weston said, sounding warm.

Things were going fast? What was he talking about? Ryder shot Branson a sideways glance.

“He moved in as my roommate, Wes. Not my boyfriend,” Branson said, and as soon as his words registered, Ryder’s cheeks heated. Oh shit, did Weston think they were together? How the hell had that happened?

“Oh, I apologize,” Weston said quickly. “I meant no offense.”

“None taken,” Branson said.

“We’re not together.” Ryder cursed himself for even opening his mouth. “Not that there would be anything wrong with it, seeing as how we don’t report to each other, but we’re not. I just wanted to make that clear. Not that I’m offended you would think so. I mean, I’m gay, and Branson is…” He let out a sigh. “I’m going to shut up now.”

Weston laughed. “All good, Ryder. See you guys later.” He was still laughing as he walked down the hallway.

“I’m sorry.” Ryder felt miserable. “For some reason, I blurt out really stupid things when I’m nervous.”

“Do you now? I hadn’t noticed.”

Ryder had been staring at his feet as he shuffled them across the gray carpet, but now he looked up and found Branson smiling at him, his eyes dancing with laughter. “You’re mocking me.”

“I’m not, chéri, I promise. You’re adorable when you get all flustered…”

He swallowed. “Adorable?”

Branson stepped closer to him, and Ryder’s heart skipped a beat. “You don’t like being called that?”

The faint smell of Branson’s cologne surrounded him, a sensual aroma that was all masculine, a fascinating mix of leather, bitter, and sweet. Tom Ford’s Fucking Fabulous, it was called. Ryder had spotted it in the bathroom that morning and hadn’t been able to resist taking a whiff.

“I…I don’t know. I don’t think I mind. You mean it in a positive way, don’t you?” he stammered.

Branson caressed his cheek with a single finger. “Of course, chéri. I mean it in the highest of praise, the bestest of ways. Come, let’s eat lunch. You look hungry.”

Ryder followed Branson to the cafeteria. The highest of praise? At the surface, it sounded like mocking again, but his tone had been genuine. Plus, Ryder had asked him, and somehow, he knew Branson wouldn’t lie to him…which meant he’d been serious. He really found Ryder adorable in a good way. What did that mean?

He was still pondering it when he reached the cafeteria, his brows furrowed, when Branson cupped his cheek and met his eyes. “Let it go, chéri. I promise it’s all good.”

He took a deep breath. He’d trust him. “Okay.”

At three fifteen, Ryder received the first batch of files from Kingmakers, and he dove straight in. It only took him half an hour to find a foreign bank account he hadn’t known about and then another hour to find two more. When Branson walked in just after five, Ryder was bouncing in his chair with excitement. “I’ve got it!” he exclaimed as soon as he saw Branson. “I’ve found the link.”

“What link?”

Ryder clasped Branson’s hand, then tugged him close so he could look over Ryder’s shoulder. “Look.” He pointed at his screen. “That’s a wire in October 2013 from a secret account Kingmakers had in Switzerland to another Swiss bank, registered to the Alhuriya Group, a company headquartered in Dubai. The owner of the Alhuriya Group is Sameh El Sewedy…Yazid El Sewedy’s father. I found the first link between them.”

Branson’s face broke open in a wide smile. “That’s fantastic! I can’t believe you found this so quickly.”

The joy on Branson’s face hit Ryder. Not just his brain, which was happy with the compliment, but something inside him. He loved Branson’s smile. It did something to him, deep in his belly, where feelings swirled he didn’t understand.

He swallowed. “Bran?”

Branson’s brown eyes grew dark. “Yes, chéri?”

“Can I kiss you?”

“You can kiss me anytime, chéri. Consider this blanket approval for any and all occasions where you feel the urge to kiss me.”

“Okay.”

He’d half expected Branson to take the initiative, but he didn’t. He kept his head close, though, patiently waiting, it seemed. Ryder brought his mouth to Branson’s, then pressed it against those soft lips. A moan escaped him at that first contact, and he deepened the kiss. And Branson let him, allowed him to set the pace, which, much to Ryder’s surprise, was far slower than he usually wanted. This kiss was endlessly tender, making him feel like he was floating.

“Chéri?” Branson whispered against his lips.

“Mmm?”

“I need you to stop kissing me now before we commit multiple counts of indecency in the office…”

It took Ryder a moment before it registered, and then he pulled back. “Good point.”

“But you know what the good news is?” Branson kissed him one last time, a firm, much more claiming kiss.

“What?”

“We can continue this when we get home.”