Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 2

combination possible for helping Mickie recover. I could guard him and I understood PTSD. He's been with me ever since; almost two years now. He still freezes around violence but other than that, he has a handle on things. I have no doubt that Mickie is the one who gave Salty access to my bank account."
    "Why would he do that?"
    "Your uncle is involved in a number of charities. He wants me to make sure his commitments are honored."
    Rico nodded, that sound just like his uncle.
    "We should go out for fajitas." Mickie's light voice broke through Rico's buzzed meanderings and brought him back to the present. He hadn't noticed Mickie come back to the table and he let the words bounce around his skull for a minute.
    "Rico," Mickie's face popped into his view. "C'mon Rico, faa.. jjjii.. tasss. You want fajitas, don't you? Steak… peppers… onions… guacamole. " Mickie was practically begging him. "Please Rico. Danny won't go unless you go with us."
    Rico smiled. Mickie was like a happy puppy, full of energy and bouncing all over the place. "Yeah kid, sounds good."
    Mickie snorted and rolled his eyes at Rico calling him kid. "That's your fault," he said as he bumped Dan's shoulder.
    Dan groaned. "Get the car brat, you're driving." They both winced at Mickie's yip of pleasure.
    Dan stood and offered his hand to help Rico up. Rico shivered as the firm, callused grasp sent tingles up his arm, down his stomach and into his groin. He was surprised by Dan's strength as he easily pulled Rico to his feet. He outweighed Dan by a good twenty-five pounds. Not that he was a gym rat or anything, but at a solid one hundred and eighty-five pounds, he was no lightweight either. Dan had moved him like it was nothing. Rico couldn't believe how much that turned him on.
    Dan slapped him on the shoulder as he moved towards the car. "Come on buddy; let's get ourselves on the outside of some food."
    ****
    Rico pulled up to Woodies with a sigh. He was only twenty-five but some days he felt so old .
    He loved being an accountant, really, but was heartily tired of the extra hours during tax season. In addition, he had been so distracted yesterday with everything that had happened, he never got Dan's address or phone number. Rico needed to resolve that immediately. He couldn't have his uncle out of the house and not know where he was. It just wasn't proper. HE was the nephew, it was up to him to keep tabs on his uncle and make sure everything was alright.
    "Hey Rico," Mickie greeted him from a table near the bar. He was typing away at this laptop, an open book and a bag of peanut M&M's within easy reach.
    "Hi Mickie, is Dan here? I forgot to get his address last night and I wanted to see my uncle." Rico's stomach growled and Mickie laughed.
    "Here man," Mickie upended the bag of M&M's into Rico's hand. "Stave off the growling bear." Mickie's attention had already returned to his laptop.
    "Mickie," Rico was trying to be patient. "Where does Dan have my uncle?"
    Mickie glanced up and waved his hand distractedly, "Oh, sorry. Two streets down, make a left, third house on the right. You can't miss it."
    Rico had lost Mickie to the laptop. Shaking his head, he quickly sorted his M&M's by color, popped a couple in his mouth and walked back to his car. He would make an effort to follow Mickie's less than thorough directions before he harassed him anymore.
    Rico pulled in front of a modest ranch style home. A long drive ran beside the house and ended in a two-car garage that faced the street. A blood red, 1970 Malibu convertible with Krager rims was parked towards the middle of the drive. How interesting. Rico enjoyed building model cars and had an extensive collection. He absolutely loved the classics.
    The yard was neat and well-trimmed. There was a date palm on one side of the yard and a few birds-of-paradise near the door. The whole effect was simple, soothing and made him feel welcome. Everything he was learning about Dan made him seem a caring person.
    The door opened before he could knock.
    "Rico, I heard your car pull up. Come on in. Mickie called, said you were starving and on your way here." Dan led the way into the kitchen. His uncle was already sitting with a plate piled high. He grunted and waved at Rico before returning all his attention to his food.
    "We just finished barbequing, grab yourself a plate." Dan said, pointing to a stack of clean plates on the day bar that divided the kitchen and living room.
    There was a steaming pile of chicken