Out Of My Mind Read online

  Thinking back to when he'd first met Nick, he tried to remember if he'd had any particularly unusual reactions to him then. He'd come to work one Monday morning to discover he was being assigned a partner--a young man who'd just moved up the coast from Boston. His previous partner, Lou, had retired for health reasons, so Rafferty had been solo for a couple of months. His first thought when he'd met Nick had been that he was a good-looking, fresh-faced kid with a cocky attitude. He'd soon discovered, however, that Nick's cockiness wasn't all swagger and talk. The kid was good. And he wasn't a show-off or an asshole as many young men might have been. Nick had been willing to listen and learn.

  By the end of the first week, they'd bonded on the job and worked together as if they'd been doing it for years rather than days. By the end of the second week, they'd already begun to hang out together after hours. And it had been that way ever since.

  "How's your mom?" Nick asked, pulling him from his reverie. "It's been a couple of months since you let me tag along on a visit to her."

  Rafferty winced internally. Since his obsession had begun and he'd been trying to spend less time with Nick in hopes of getting this crazy longing out of his system. He felt bad about it, though, because his mom always enjoyed Nick's company and she'd asked about him the past few times Rafferty had been to see her in the assisted care facility where she lived.

  "She's doing well. The docs changed her meds around, so she's having less balance problems. And someone new moved into the room across the hall from her, another woman with MS. I guess they've hit it off. This other woman is as passionate about movies as Mom is, so they've been whiling away a lot of hours watching all the old 'classics,' as Mom calls them." He glanced over at Nick. "When I was up there this week, she said to send you her love."

  Nick's smile tugged at something funny deep in Rafferty's core.

  "She's a sweetheart, Annabelle Jones. I'm glad she's found a new friend. Friends are what make the world go round."

  Rafferty swallowed around the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat. "Yeah, they do," he said hoarsely.

  Best keep that in mind, Rafferty. Nick's your friend. Don't do anything to ruin it.

  "So," he said, trying to get his wayward thoughts and emotions back on an even keel. "You wanna take the wheel for while?"

  This time Nick's soft laugh was uneasy. "Sure...if you want me to. But I think it's worth mentioning that it still makes me nervous. This is, after all, your pride and joy."

  Rafferty grinned. "So's my Mustang, but you don't seem to have a problem driving it."

  "Yeah, well, I've been driving cars since I was old enough to reach the gas pedal," Nick said, a smile teasing the corners of his lips. "We start young in Kansas...you know, the whole driving the farm truck to help with chores thing. But that's a little different than handling a boat on the ocean, thanks. And you didn't put three years worth of work into your Mustang, either. I had to listen to too many hours of detailed descriptions about what all you did to this thing, how much it cost, how much blood, sweat and tears you poured into it. Kind of puts the fear of God in me every time you want me to take the wheel."

  "Come on, get over here, kid. I'll make a seaman out of you yet."

  Yeah, being friends is good. I can do this and put all that nonsense out of my head.

  But when Nick stepped close to take the wheel, for an electric instant their shoulders and then their hands brushed, and the surge of heat that spread from the points of contact throughout Rafferty's body nearly stole his breath.

  In that instant, Rafferty knew he could try to pretend all he liked, but somewhere along way, the line between friendship and...well, something else had blurred.

  * * * *

  Around noon, they anchored on the leeward side of a tiny unnamed island and dug into the ham sandwiches Nick made in the galley.

  As they reclined in their chairs on the deck, the warmth of the sun beat down on them, and a handful of fluffy white clouds scudded across the sky. The sound of the waves lapping at the boat lulled Rafferty into a mellow mood.

  "Too bad the water temperature's so cold this time of year. That little sandy beach there"--he pointed a hundred yards away to the narrow strip of beach on the southern edge of the island--"would have made a good spot to hang out this afternoon. But we'd freeze our asses off to swim there, and the water's not deep enough to get any closer in the boat."

  "Excuse me, but the water up here in the frozen north is always too damned cold for me, even in the dead of summer," Nick said.

  "The frozen north?" Rafferty snorted a laugh. "You big wimp. What the hell are doing up here then? You should have moved to Florida if you wanted warm water."

  "Hey, I didn't see you swimming much this summer either, so don't even think about giving me shit." Nick's grin was contagious. "I'll just sit here and admire that stretch of beach from a distance, thanks. But if you want to take a dip, go for it and I'll cheer you on."

  "In fifty degree water? I'd be lucky to make it to shore without giving myself a heart attack from cold shock. I'll just sit here and admire it with you."

  "A sensible decision."

  "Yeah, well, you know me...I'm all about sensible."

  "Yep, a sensible, stubborn Mainer."

  "That's Mainah, not Mainer, kid," he said, exaggerating the dialect used by most locals. "If you're going to live here, you've gotta learn to talk the talk."

  Nick snorted. "I've been here four years. You'd think if I was going pick up the 'talk' I would've done it by now. I hate to say it, but I'll probably always sound like a good Midwestern boy. Sorry, Raff, but you'll have to learn to love me as I am."

  A ragged twinge hit Rafferty square in the chest, making it hard to breathe.

  Thinking fast, needing to cover himself in case he'd let the jolt of shock show on his face, Rafferty held up his beer bottle and clinked the rim of it against Nick's. "Here's to my two-month anniversary of freedom."

  Nick sobered. "Has it been exactly two months today?"

  "Yep. May Candace... Hell, may she and her boy-toy live happily-ever-after in my house with my furniture and my high-def plasma TV."

  Nick's easy smile curved his lips. "But not your Stones albums."

  Rafferty gave him what he hoped was a scandalized look. "God forbid. Bite your tongue!"

  "And she didn't get your boat either."

  Rafferty had to chuckle at that. "She'd rather have burned in hell first. She hated this thing. Hated the time I spent working on it. Hated the money I put into it. She was pissed and didn't talk to me for a month when I bought it. Told me I was out of my mind to buy an old, beat-up wreck that'd never float."

  "Hence the name of the boat," Nick said with a grin.

  Rafferty tipped up his beer bottle and swallowed, a grin flirting at his own lips. Candy had been such a bitch over him buying it, so he'd taken her words and named the boat Out Of My Mind. He'd meant it as a tease--albeit a defiant one--but she'd been so furious she hadn't ever, not even once, come to see it when he was working on it. And at their final divorce hearing her last words to him had been, "I hope you and your fucking precious boat make each other very happy."

  He supposed if he'd been smarter and a little less oblivious, he should have seen the signs way back when he bought the boat that their marriage wasn't in real healthy shape.

  "So..." Nick said, his brow suddenly furrowed. "Seriously... are you doing okay?"

  "Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

  "Well...let's see. We're sitting here celebrating the fact that two months ago your marriage was officially over."

  Rafferty took another draught of beer before he responded, still wondering at how truly unemotional he'd felt all along over the break-up of his marriage. He just...didn't care. No, that wasn't true. He did care, but what he felt was profound relief it was done. "My marriage was over long before the divorce was final. Long before I caught Candace having an afternoon delight at the house."

  "I know. But still...divorce sucks. And yo
u really did look kind of weird when I first came onboard this morning. Has Candace been in touch with you about anything?"

  "Ha! She got pretty much everything. What could she possibly ever need to talk to me about again? I'm telling you, Nick, there was no love lost between us. There hadn't been for years. To tell the truth..."

  He paused, gazing deep in thought out at the distant horizon, where the faintest hint of clouds brewed. "I suppose I'm not real proud to say this, but I'm not sure we ever really loved each other. We met at a bar, she was turned on by the fact I was a cop, we went to bed together, and got married a month later. Not one of my brighter moments."

  "There must have been something there. You guys were married for almost five years."

  "I think for all she bitched about it never being enough, she liked my paycheck. Because as long as she was married to me, it meant she could work part-time instead of full-time. I think that's what ticked her off the most when I filed for divorce. It meant her gravy train had come to an end." Rafferty sighed. "I don't know exactly when it started going downhill, though. In the beginning, I guess the sex was good and that was enough. But we came from two different worlds. She had dreams of bigger and better things, wanted to escape this place and live somewhere better, fancier, like her wealthy grandparents down on Long Island. And I..." He shrugged. "Well, you know me. I'm just a practical, boring guy, and more than content right here."

  The weight of Nick's warm hand on his shoulder startled him. He looked up to find his friend's gaze on him. "Practical you may be. It's a quality I appreciate about you. But there's nothing boring about you, Rafferty. And if Candace couldn't see that, screw her."

  His words and gaze held an intensity Rafferty had never seen in Nick before, an intensity that sent slow pulses of heat through his veins, almost making him lightheaded. For a moment he wanted to believe maybe there was more to Nick's look and words than lay on the surface, but then he scoffed at himself, knowing better.

  Nick gave Rafferty's shoulder a squeeze before he removed his hand. Rafferty immediately felt the loss of its warmth, and for a fleeting moment, wondered what Nick's hands would feel like without his shirt in the way, on his bare skin.

  Stop it. Right now. Just stop it.

  He swallowed hard.

  "Don't let what happened with Candace get to you," Nick advised. "You're not, are you?"

  "God, no." Rafferty looked into Nick's warm gaze and felt something inside him shift.

  You're what's gotten to me. And I don't know what the hell to do about it.

  Chapter 2

  * * *

  They spent the rest of the afternoon cruising along the coast and islands. Rafferty pointed out several lighthouses and rattled off their histories, they watched the gulls circle, and they talked. Mostly about work, Nick noted. Which was pretty much the way things had been recently--all work and not a lot of play.

  Something was bothering Rafferty. Something that had caused him to pull away and draw into himself over the past few weeks. He tried to hide it, tried to act normal, like everything was copacetic, but Nick had known him long enough to be certain something wasn't right. He'd been hoping this weekend on the boat would give him a chance to dig the truth out of his friend.

  Too bad he'd gotten exactly nowhere with that plan. When Rafferty dug in his heels, it could be like trying to pry a stubborn barnacle off a boat's hull to get the man to share his feelings.

  Nick had figured maybe the reality of Rafferty's divorce had finally sunk in and was bringing him down. It could be damned lonely to live alone--something Nick knew all too well. And although he'd never been through a divorce himself, he had been through the break-up of a long-term relationship and there was a certain amount of emotional fall-out that tended to linger once everything was said and done.

  But now he wasn't so sure the divorce was Raff's problem. Each time Nick had managed to slide it into a conversation, Rafferty's reaction had been pretty consistent and indicated he wasn't suffering too much over it. He seemed to genuinely feel it was for the better.

  What Nick had noticed, however, was that there'd been something odd in the way Rafferty had looked at him today, with a kind of troubled expression in his golden-brown eyes.

  Shit. A ripple of worry spread through him. After all this time, had Rafferty found out about him? Could that explain why Raff was suddenly holding him at a distance?

  Yeah, it could explain it. But at the same time, Nick's cop sixth sense told him that wasn't it. He didn't know why he felt so certain except he just had a gut feel that if Rafferty had seen or heard or somehow homed in on something, he wouldn't shut Nick out or avoid him...he'd say something about it. Rafferty wasn't exactly open-feeling guy when it came to sharing his own deepest emotions, but he tended to be pretty straight-up and speak his mind when it came to other people.

  Which was a trait Candace had never appreciated about him. Nick hadn't spent a ton of time with her, mostly because he'd gotten the distinct impression from the start that she didn't like him for whatever reason...and as much as Nick valued his friendship with Raff, life was too short to hang around with someone who just wanted you out of her sight, even when it was your best friend's wife. But from what he'd seen when he was around Candace and had watched her and Rafferty together, Candace had wanted a man who fawned over her every word, who agreed with her on every subject, and kept his mouth shut if he didn't. And that just so wasn't Rafferty. The man was as solid and real and down to earth as the New England coast that had shaped him. You always knew where you stood with him. And unlike Candace, Nick more than appreciated that about Rafferty. It was one of the things he loved best about him.

  Shit, if he were being really honest...he loved the man period. He'd known it for ages, but had schooled himself long ago to accept the fact his and Rafferty's relationship would never be more than partners at work, and platonic friends outside work.

  And most of the time he was okay with that. As okay as anyone could be, under the circumstances, anyway.

  Now, watching Rafferty's capable, tanned hands on the wheel of the boat, the straight, confident set of his broad-shoulders, and the way the curls of his dark hair fluttered in the breeze against his neck under the navy blue baseball cap he wore, Nick fought the urge, as he had for too long to remember now, to go to him, wrap his arms around him, and pull him into an embrace. He never would, of course. But the quiet craving was never too far from his mind.

  Nick hadn't been looking to get involved with anyone when he'd moved up here from Boston. He'd come to make a fresh start. So it had caught him by complete surprise when he was drawn to Rafferty from the moment they'd met. He'd known from day one, however, that his new partner was off limits. The wedding band on his finger, along with the picture of his blonde bombshell of a wife on his desk, had said as much on Nick's first day of work at the Cavanaugh Bay Police Department. And that had been just as well. It had given Nick peace of mind that he could concentrate on his job without fear of distraction.

  But the ring and the picture had disappeared last winter when Raff caught Candace screwing that young little weasel she worked with. And that's when things for Nick had gotten murky. No longer had the clear and obvious line he could never cross been there. He'd been beating himself over the head ever since with the basic fact that wife or no wife, Rafferty was a straight man and therefore still a hundred percent off limits. But Nick's body and, even messier, his heart kept telling him they didn't care. And more and more frequently of late, he'd found Rafferty in the starring role of most of his sexual fantasies.

  It hadn't helped when Raff had stayed at his place for a week after Candace took possession of their house and Raff was looking for a place of his own. Knowing Rafferty was asleep in the room next to his, wondering if he slept in the nude, how he'd look stretched out on the bed in the moonlight, his dark hair disheveled, his cock erect and seeping as he dreamed, had kept Nick awake most nights that week. And the sounds of Raff in the shower, and the visions th
at had continually popped into Nick's head of how the man probably looked, sculpted and beautiful, with the water sluicing over his skin... Nick was almost ashamed to admit he'd beaten off more that week than he had in probably the entire six months before.

  Breathe, man. Just breathe and get over it. You can fantasize all you want, but that's all it can ever be, and you know it. Which is for the best. It's always been for the best. And, anyway, this weekend isn't about you and your secret desires. It's about finding out what's troubling your best friend.

  He sighed. Yeah, but getting Rafferty to talk about whatever was on his mind was easier said than done.

  By the time they anchored in a shallow cove of one of the outer islands for the night, he was no closer to knowing anything than he'd been before.

  Dinner was an oddly tense affair, as if something had been brewing inside Rafferty all day and had reached the point it was barely contained beneath the surface. Nick had volunteered to cook, as he had on past trips, and Rafferty had readily agreed. But unlike in the past, Raff had stayed out of the cabin completely, hadn't offered to help in any way, and had puttered out on deck doing what even Nick, as a landlubber, knew were made-up jobs to stay busy.

  After the dishes had been washed, they played a few hands of poker at the small table in the cabin, but it was clear Rafferty's heart and mind weren't in it. After half an hour, he said, "I'm really beat. I think I'm going to call it a night."

  Nick checked his watch and saw it wasn't yet eight o'clock. As he helped gather the poker chips and return them to the box, he opted for the direct approach. "What's on your mind, Raff? You haven't been yourself all day."

  Rafferty rose from the table and put away the cards and chips in one of the latched cabinets.

  He shrugged, his back turned to Nick. "Just tired. Got up early this morning."

  Nick rose, too. With both of them standing, the cabin felt almost too small to contain them...especially with the tension radiating off Rafferty like a live thing.