With Abandon: With or Without, Book 4

on his arm. “Matt? I can’t take it back. I’m sorry. I wish I could, but you know why I can’t. Things have to remain a secret.”
    This time the smile Matt gave him was a little more certain. “I know. I’m not upset. I wish it could be otherwise, but I do understand. And it’s not like I normally go around telling people I’m gay or something.”
    His face softened, letting Aubrey know he really did understand, then his eyes took on a mischievous glint.
    “Race you.” He took off like a shot.
    Aubrey laughed. No other man he knew would do something so carefree.

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    When Matt stopped next to a grayish-green Cadillac CTS, Aubrey laughed harder. In Matt’s defense
    the CTS was very similar to Aubrey’s Lincoln in appearance if you couldn’t rely on colors for
    identification. However, Aubrey was in his Caddie today and it was a totally different body style than the one Matt had gone to. It must be strange being color-blind. Talk about a pain not being able to easily
    distinguish your car from others or not knowing if your clothes matched.
    Matt smiled. “What?”
    Aubrey didn’t answer. Instead he hit the unlock button on his key fob and opened the car door. “I
    win.”
    Groaning, Matt shook his head, but the amusement in his posture was hard to miss. Finally he
    chuckled and walked three cars back to the XLR. Tossing his backpack onto the passenger-side floorboard, he rolled his eyes. “Smart aleck.”

    Aubrey was still smiling when he walked into work an hour and a half later. Lordy, he was full. Those
    enchiladas had hit the spot. He’d dropped Matt off at school so he could get the bike and go to Tara’s. If Aubrey could get his work done in time, he’d head over there himself. Tee was getting Matt to assist her in restoring her dad’s old Mustang. It was a neat car, and Aubrey wouldn’t mind helping.
    As the elevator doors slid open, Carson came careening around the corner. His pale expression was
    the first thing Aubrey noticed. The scent of his fear was the second. He glanced past Aubrey, like he was looking for someone. Which was ridiculous, since they had the entire section of the floor to themselves.
    They had a private elevator, and the only other access was the stairwell a few yards down the hall. “I’ve been trying to get a hold of you. Didn’t you get my text?”
    “Yeah, but I was already on my way back. What’s going on?” Aubrey stepped off the elevator, and
    Carson fell into step beside him. Aubrey sniffed just to make certain they were alone. They were. There was a lingering scent of someone, a human he didn’t recognize, but no Boskie.
    “This came for you.” Carson handed him a brown ten-by-thirteen-sized envelope as they reached
    Aubrey’s office.
    Hmmm… “Who’s it from?” He turned the envelope over but there was no name. Tossing it on his
    desk, he walked around to his chair, still trying to figure out what had Carson spooked.
    “I don’t know. I thought it was the specs for the new bar, and I opened it.” He bit his bottom lip, and the scent of fear surrounded him again. “It came by messenger.” Fidgeting from foot to foot, Carson’s gaze swept past Aubrey out the window. “I called to check on him five minutes ago, but it went right to his voice mail.” His gaze darted back and forth erratically. They were twenty floors up so his actions didn’t make sense. It put a fine point on his panic though. Carson was rattled.
    Damn you, Boskie. Taking off his jacket, Aubrey laid it over the back of his chair and rolled up his sleeves. Boskie had already come damn close to making this a pack problem, as well as a work one, when
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    With Abandon
    he attacked Matt. Aubrey had hoped the fierce warning would do the trick, but apparently it hadn’t. What a clusterfuck.
    “Called who?” He sat in his chair and motioned for Carson to sit in the one on the other side of the
    desk.
    “Matt.” Carson sat on the edge of the seat, his spine stiff.
    “Matt is on his way to Tee’s. He’s on the bike so—” Goose bumps exploded onto Aubrey’s skin, and
    a shiver raced up his back. What did this have to do with Matt? He ripped the unsealed envelope in his
    haste to lift the reclosable flap.
    Eight-by-ten black-and-white photos scattered across his desk. He tossed the torn envelope aside and
    spread out the pictures. A chill swept over him. There was one of Matt on the Ducati.