Colorado luck, p.1
Colorado Luck, page 1
part #10 of Colorado Heart Series
Colorado Luck
Sara York
Copyright © 2019 by Sara York
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Created with Vellum
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
About the Author
Also by Sara York
Chapter One
Grant slid his hand over the cotton sheets, expecting to find Roger, but only cool cloth greeted him. He groaned and rolled over, assuming his man was in the bathroom. The next time he woke, the sheets were still like ice.
“Roger,” Grant grumbled, hoping to elicit some reaction. After another minute, he cracked open his eyes, looking for a sliver of light under the bathroom door.
Nothing.
The time on his phone showed four thirty-two. Where was Roger?
Grant slid from between the sheets, bumped his way into the bathroom and stood with his hand on the wall, steadying himself. Maybe Roger was in the den.
After rinsing his mouth with winter-fresh mouthwash, and drinking a cup of water, Grant pulled on his blue Denver Broncos sweats and headed to the hall, shivering as the cold seeped in around him. They were expecting a foot of snow in the morning, maybe more. But first, the blizzard had to make its way over the mountain.
The light above the oven was still on, but the kitchen and den were empty. The scent of coffee wasn’t in the air, so he knew it hadn’t brewed. He didn’t really want coffee. What he wanted was to grab Roger, haul him back to bed, maybe strip him, suck his dick, get Roger to suck him, or maybe just fall asleep wrapped in his man’s arms.
After checking in the control room, he pulled out his phone and texted Marshall and Zander. If they were up, they’d get the message and reply. Then he texted Roger. A buzz sounded, and Grant’s head whipped up. He dialed Roger. Across the room, the phone vibrated again.
“What are you up to, Roger?”
Grant moved to the kitchen and pushed the silver-colored button to start the coffee. No way he’d go back to bed now that insomnia had taken over. The scrape of a foot on the wood floor drew his attention. He spun, hoping to see Roger. They would laugh about him being up, and then Grant would make him beg for forgiveness on his knees.
But it wasn’t Roger. Davis rubbed his sleep weary eyes as his mouth stretched wide in a yawn, his dark hair stuck up in all directions, and his face looked smushed on his left side.
“Hey, you up for the day?” Davis rumbled then cleared his throat. “Got a mission?”
Grant grunted then shook his head. “No, I can’t find Roger.”
Davis stopped and looked around, his lips turning down in a frown. “Huh, I didn’t hear anything, though I went to bed early. Ryan was up later. Let me go ask if he saw or heard anything.”
Grant shook his head. “No, not yet. I’m going to get dressed and have a look around the property. Maybe he’s out in the barn or walking outside.”
Davis grabbed his favorite red mug Ryan had bought last Christmas and turned to pour coffee from the carafe. “Where’s his phone? Call him, maybe.”
“I tried. His phone is here,” Grant pointed across the room.
Davis grunted. “I need coffee before I can work any of this out.”
“Same.” Grant opened the cabinet and spied Roger’s favorite mug. It was black, with The Spy Who Loved Me boldly written in white. They’d gotten each other joke mugs last year when they headed to San Francisco on vacation.
So much had changed since he’d come to the ranch. The world was crazier. The radicalized people similar, but different in ways that stumped traditional military and police. The FBI and CIA were getting a little better at tracking the worst of the worst, but still, there were problems with effectively eliminating terrorists.
The light over their fireplace flipped on, and Grant turned, hoping it was Roger. No such luck. Suz stepped in, her hair pulled high on top of her head. “You two having a party and forgot to invite everyone?”
“No,” Davis said. “Grant can’t find Roger.”
Suz stopped mid-stride, her eyes going wide. “He was heading into the control room when I went to bed. Did you check in there?”
Grant set his empty mug on the counter. “Sure did. What was he up to?”
She shrugged as she passed by him and grabbed a mug before reaching for the carafe. She poured herself coffee then grabbed Grant’s cup and poured some for him.
“I’m worried,” Grant said.
“Have you checked the grounds?” Suz asked.
“Not yet.” Grant took a sip of coffee, hating the idea that he was about to wake up the whole ranch to find Roger. Where had his man gone?
Suz took another sip of her coffee and then set it down. “Let me get my clothes on, and I’ll help you look.”
“I’ll get dressed too.” Grant took a big gulp of his coffee, the heat almost burned his mouth, but he swallowed, thinking he needed to pour the coffee into a travel mug. Roger was missing, and there wasn’t any way he could rest until he found him.
The search of the barn netted him nothing. Suz was out by the fence, calling for Roger. The porch light on Zander and Marshall’s place flipped on.
“Hey,” Marshall called out. “What’s up?”
Desperation filled Grant. “I can’t find Roger.”
Zander stepped out, pulling his coat on. “I’m headed over to check the computers. I’ve sent a note to Jazz. We’ll find him.”
Zander sounded sure of his abilities to find Roger. Grant hoped he was right. The little twist of fear in his belly made him think he’d never find his man. His mind swirled with anger, fear, and shame. This wasn’t like the last time his lover had disappeared. No way. Roger wasn’t anything like Craig.
There was no way in hell Roger had turned. They were solid as a couple, and Roger was always honest with him. Back when he’d been with Craig, Grant had felt that something was off, but never once had he felt that way about Roger.
They made their way inside, and Grant headed to the control room, turning on a computer before settling. Suz brought in a cup of coffee and Roger’s phone.
“Do you know the passcode to get in?”
Grant took the phone and stared at it. “I do.” Would he be breaking Roger’s trust? He stood and moved to the other side of the room. He had to know.
After entering the code to get into the phone, he checked messages and found nothing. Then he opened Roger’s email, fearful of what he’d find. When Craig had run off, Grant had found a few concerning things. But there was nothing in Roger’s email.
“I found him,” Jazz said as he entered the room.
“What?” Grant spun, and his heart rate picked up. “Where is he?”
“There’s a flight to Jakarta that leaves in thirty minutes. One of his aliases is taking that flight.”
“What?” The room spun, and pain filled Grant’s heart. No way Jazz could be right. His brain seemed to fill with cotton, and thinking was almost impossible. Why would Roger leave and fly to Indonesia without telling him?
“I’m booking you on a flight out this afternoon,” Suz said. “You need to get your bag together and shower. We’ll have food ready before you leave.”
“I can’t just drop everything,” Grant mumbled then turned to the computer to open his email and find the flight information Suz had just booked. The first email that came up was from Roger. His fingers shook as he hovered over the mouse. The time on the email was two in the morning. Jesus, Roger, what are you up to?
Grant clicked on the email, hoping to find an explanation. There wasn’t any.
I have to do something. I’m safe. I swear I’ll be home in a week. Don’t worry about me.
Grant sat back and covered his mouth with his hand. Suz came over and sat next to him, then turned to stare at the screen.
“That’s not much information at all. At least you know where he’s going.”
Marshall came up behind him. “I should go with you.”
“No,” Grant shook his head. “There’s no need. I don’t want to disrupt your life.”
Tex stepped in, his hair damp, fresh clothes on. “I’m going with you. I told Jazz to buy me a ticket on whatever plane you’re on. I’m with you, and you can’t stop me.”
Grant’s chest tightened. He loved that man. Tex had proven over and over again how freaking amazing he was. All the guys were great. Their team really was the best.
“Thanks, Tex. I’m going to shower.” Grant stood and stared down at the computer and his email. Why had Roger taken off to Indonesia? He hoped he didn’t hate himself or Roger once he found the answers
Chapter Two
The email had come a week ago. At first, Roger had shut down the computer and didn’t even want to deal with it. How in the hell could he? Then one night he’d slipped from his bed and opened his computer in the control room, hiding away from the others to sneak a look. He’d stared at the image for a long time, thinking there was no way, and yet he had the proof right there in front of him.
The plane bounced and he shivered. Maybe he should have told Grant, but what could he have said?
My lover who I’m still in love with isn’t dead, or I think he isn’t dead. This photo, it’s him. I have to find him. You won’t mind me going to see my dead lover, will you?
All of it was crazy. How could Hayden be alive? Roger’s chest squeezed and pain filled him.
The intercom crackled. “Ladies and Gentlemen, we’re making our final approach to Jakarta. Please return your seats to upright, make sure you’re buckled up, and as always, thank you for flying.”
Roger hit the button to fix his seat and put away the burner phone he’d picked up. He closed his eyes, thinking about the last good day he and Hayden had spent together. They’d received a few days’ rests. The war still raged, and people were doing crazy shit to kill each other, but he and Hayden had spent twenty-four hours pretending to be on a tropical island on vacation. He loved that Hayden had done stuff like that. He’d changed everything for a little bit, made the war not so bad.
God, how could Hayden still be alive?
When the wheels jumped at touchdown, Roger straightened and squared his shoulders. He had to see this through. If this was really Hayden, what would he do? Could he walk away from Grant? Hayden wouldn’t understand how he felt about Grant. And if Hayden was still alive, why hadn’t he at least attempted to get in touch? Hayden’s death had devastated Roger. And now all of that was being brought up. If this was someone’s sick idea of a joke, he would kill them.
After a quick meal at the airport, Roger headed out to the waiting taxis. He checked into his hotel and then walked over to a motorcycle rental shop. He had an hour ride to Bogor where Hayden supposedly was living.
Could the CIA or another agency have faked Hayden’s death? And wouldn’t that have meant Hayden was in on it?
Even with all he knew, he couldn’t ignore the photo of Hayden smiling at the camera.
Everything he’d seen that day, could it all have been a lie? How could Hayden have faked that?
He shivered and pushed the pain away as he entered the building to rent his transportation. It took him longer than he wanted to get moving on the motorcycle because he also had to buy a chip for his burner phone, but when he finally took off toward Bogor, hope filled him. It wasn’t hope that Hayden was alive, which pushed him to keep looking; rather, it was hope for questions to be answered.
The drive to Bogor was enjoyable, for the most part. He’d expected to see more fields, but mostly it was houses and more houses along with strip malls, shops, and American restaurants.
He probably stuck out with his broader shoulders and long legs. A few people gave him funny looks as he rode past. Closer to Bogor, he pulled off and grabbed a soda and candy bar as he looked over the directions. He would be leaving the more populated city center and heading off closer to the mountains.
If this was a setup, he would be dead. Grant deserved some explanation. He typed in a text but didn’t send it. He had no answers, and communicating with Grant right now would be painful.
His mind was filled with memories on the last part of the ride to see Hayden. They’d been good together. He was different with Grant. Good, maybe better than it had been with Hayden, but different. They’d loved each other but hadn’t had the luxury of loving in a very relaxed atmosphere. Sure, Wild Bluff was crazy, but he and Grant were their own men. They could do what they wanted when they wanted. No COs were looking over their shoulders, checking everything they did. He felt free with Grant in a way he’d never experienced with Hayden.
Roger turned down the street where Hayden was supposed to be and slowed. When he was almost at the house, he pulled off the road into a field and cut the engine. Roger stepped off the bike, his knees shaking.
The door to the house opened, and the world came crashing down on him. The man wore a faded blue t-shirt and shorts along with a wide-brimmed hat. The features were more than familiar, the muscles ones Roger had traced over and over, the smile was exactly the same. No question in Roger’s mind; Hayden stood across the field from him.
He hadn’t even realized he was walking until Hayden looked up, a broad smile breaking over his face.
“I guess you found out. I knew you’d eventually come looking for me.”
Jesus, Hayden’s voice. Roger’s knees buckled, and he almost fell to the ground. Hayden’s lips turned down in a frown as he rushed over. The feel of Hayden’s hands on his body made his head spin like he was riding a tilt-a-whirl.
“Oh God,” was all Roger could say before everything fuzzed together in a swirl of emotions.
Chapter Three
Grant handed Tex his bag as he approached the car rental counter. The guys at Wild Bluff had been working overtime to track down Roger. It was nearly freaking impossible, but eventually, they’d figured out his hotel.
It didn’t take long to get their car. They were on the road, heading out when he received a call.
“Grant here.”
“It’s Suz. Roger rented a bike from a rental place not too far from the hotel.”
Grant glanced to Tex. “I’m handing the phone over to Tex. Give him the address, and we’ll head that way.”
The light up ahead turned red, and he stopped. Driving in Jakarta wasn’t so bad. It wasn’t rush hour, and this wasn’t the most congested area of the city. So far, he hadn’t seen too many motorcycles. Then a couple streamed past followed by two more. Any one of those guys could be Roger.
Tex typed in directions for the shop before the light changed to green. He was about to make the right turn when he saw a bigger guy on a motorcycle. No question, the man wasn’t from this area. Grant paused, watching the guy fly past on the cycle.
“Did that look like Roger?” Grant asked.
Tex stared after the guy on the motorcycle, his brows bunched. “Maybe.”
“I’m following. I think it’s Roger.”
“Shouldn’t we go to the cycle shop?”
Grant knew he should, but they could talk to the shop owner later. Their flight had been better than Roger’s with fewer layovers. They’d gained an advantage that afforded them to be at this location at this exact moment, and he wouldn’t blow it.
He turned and followed after Roger or that guy he thought was Roger. They were headed south toward Bogor. At first, he’d lost sight of the guy on the motorcycle. Relief filled Grant when he spied him again. They were almost beside Roger when traffic grew congested. Roger’s small motorcycle slipped through the mess and took off.
Grant’s heart cracked just a little as he watched him speed away. “Oh shit, we’re losing him.”
“No, we’ll catch up. We’re moving again. Just drive sane, and I’ll keep my eyes on him.”
Traffic surged forward, and Tex said he saw the guy. They were a little over a mile behind him, but Grant could see the motorcycle now.
Then the guy who he thought was Roger took an exit. He moved over, exiting where the guy had, but there was no Roger in sight.
Tex rolled down his window, but there was nothing. A full minute passed and then another. Finally, Grant heard the high-pitched whine of the motorcycle just after Tex said he heard it.
“Turn right!” Tex shouted.
Grant turned and drove for what seemed like forever but was probably only a minute before they saw their target again. If they’d been in an area where more muscled up white guys lived, they wouldn’t have found him. But Roger stuck out like a sore thumb.
