Make Me Whole Page 3

  Galen stepped up to the second statue. In it the naked man stood with his legs wider apart than in the first. The lines of his muscles spoke of tension, and the corded throat with his head thrown back, the parted lips, and half-lidded eyes conveyed pleasure. His hands were outstretched low in front of him and his cock jutted out from a nest of curls. Every time Galen laid his eyes on him in that stance it brought a visceral punch of desire to his gut.

  Galen imagined the man’s companion on his knees, leaning forward to take the offering. Maybe he could talk Knox into doing some of his charcoal renderings to complete the set on paper. If Galen had any of his inherited fortune left, he would give a good chunk of it to see them complete. He turned toward the third statue and heard the sound of Suzane’s heels on the hardwood floors as she entered the room.

  “I hate to admit it, but they look good,” she said, her tone grudging. “I think they will really bring the display together. Now if we could just get the people at the British Museum to part with the Warren Cup for a year, I’d be the happiest woman alive.”

  “Does this mean we’re not going to have an argument about them staying?” Galen crouched in front of the third statue. The man leaned on his hands and knees, back arched, buttocks clenched in midthrust. “Because I’m keeping them. Did you have any luck on the research?”

  “I found some maddening, vague hints to an obscure myth about a pair of lovers who pissed off a goddess. One of them, Dexios, got turned into a statue. You know those crazy gods in mythology, always having to take matters to an extra level. Someone could’ve used the story as a basis for your hottie. If that’s the case, the timing could be right. Just do me a favor and don’t go announcing this until we know for sure.”

  Suzane laid her hand on his shoulder and waited until he looked up at her. “These statues belong to somebody, and they might want them back. We should look into what legal standing we have. And if they turn out to be a big, fat joke, I don’t want to see your reputation screwed with because you let your passion overrule your judgment.”

  Galen turned back and traced the intent furrow across the man’s brow. Something about Suzane’s words struck a chord deep inside him. Dexios. Why did the name sound familiar? Maybe he had heard it from Nick. He had two loves: geek stuff and wreck diving to salvage lost art. He seemed to recall Nick mentioning statues a couple of times, though Galen was pretty sure that wasn’t why it was familiar.

  Nick. Thinking of him awoke the ache again. Galen would love to see Nick’s excitement over this discovery, to hear his thoughts about where they might have originated. Hell, it would be just good to talk to him, period.

  “And sometimes you lose too much when you let go of passion.” He rose and shook his head. “Sorry, I don’t know where that came from.”

  “Are you okay? You’ve been pretty distracted the last few days.” Suzane’s voice came from far away as Galen’s fingers dropped down to the man’s full lips and jaw. “I know this place is your life, but when was the last time you went out? Had a hot date?”

  Galen shrugged and stuck his hands in his pockets. “Dating is overrated. I haven’t been able to get into it.” Meaningless sex, on the other hand… he’d gotten pretty used to those kinds of hookups. Until Nick. The man had brought feelings into the matter, and Galen had been unable to reciprocate at the time. Now that he’d regained his equilibrium again it seemed he would be paying for his sins by having Nick haunt his thoughts on a constant basis.

  Suzane squeezed his arm. “It’s been almost two years since Bryan’s accident. I’m sorry I made the comment about dating. I know you can’t put a time limit on mourning, but you can start living again. Find new things to enjoy outside of your work, a hobby maybe. Hell, get a cat.”

  “I’ve been giving it a lot more thought lately. I’ll take it under advisement.”

  “You always say that. One day you might actually listen and I think I’ll die of heart failure. In the meantime, why don’t you try sleeping in your apartment more and your office less? I’ll leave my research notes on your desk before I leave.”

  “Hey, Suzane?” Galen caught her hand and gave it a squeeze. She was dealing with her own crap and still had the energy and compassion to be a pillar for him when he needed it. He hoped he did the same for her. “Thank you.”

  “Anytime.”

  Galen watched her go, grateful for her unwavering support and friendship for the last five years and finally at a point where he could tell her. It was like he’d been stunted since the night of Bryan’s accident, a part of him ripped away, and he hadn’t been able to find a way to fix the empty hole inside of him.

  Being at the museum and watching his dream come to life helped. He felt almost normal until he went home and the echoing loneliness hit him. Time had eased it even more. And Nick had borne the brunt of his inability to let anybody new close. If he had one regret in this last year, Nick was it.

  He turned to the final statue, struck again by the way it stirred him up inside. The man lay on his side, his arm curled around as if clasping another body to him, his head bowed with a tender expression on his face. “You really loved him, didn’t you?” Galen crouched down and slid his fingers down the length of the man’s arm.

  “Make me whole.”

  The low, deep voice with a strange accent sounded right next to his ear. Galen jumped and fell back on his ass at the murmur and glanced around the room only to find that Knox had left and Ella had gone back to her mural. “What the hell? Did you say something, Ella?” No, that had been a man’s voice, no mistaking it.

  Ella shook her head, her face inches from the wall while she worked on some small detail. “I didn’t hear anything.”

  He got to his feet and dusted himself off while he stared at the statue. Man, he was losing his mind. Maybe Suzane was right—it was time to get out of the museum for a bit. He pulled his phone out of his pocket as he left the room. It had been a couple of days since he’d called Nick, and he’d been thinking of him even more. A little thrill of anticipation raced through him. It would be good to hear his voice again, and maybe hearing about the mysterious statues would pique his interest enough for a dinner date. Nick liked talking art. It wouldn’t hurt to try, and if Nick didn’t want to see him again, he only had himself to blame.

  But maybe, just maybe, the heavens were smiling down on him and Nick was still interested.

  NICK hung up his suit coat and opened the cockatiels’ cage. Rory chirped and twittered before he climbed to the door and squawked. His mate, Amy, cocked her head, let out a trill of greeting, then went back to preening her feathers. “Let me change, and you can help me cook dinner.” He brushed a finger down Rory’s brilliant yellow crest, and the cockatiel rewarded him with a tender nip on his finger.

  He yanked off his tie, tossed it over a chair, and was already shrugging out of his dress shirt by the time he reached the bedroom. This was the best part of the day—getting home and changing into something comfortable with birdsong in the background. Ten minutes later, dressed in track pants and a Team Zissou jaguar shark T-shirt, he returned to the kitchen and grabbed a can of soup to heat up on the stove.

  Rory glided into the kitchen and landed on his shoulder. His talons dug through the thin T-shirt as he shifted and found his balance. Amy called out to him from the living room and Rory answered with a series of whistles before ending his conversation with a gentle nibble on Galen’s ear.

  “Oh, you have time for me now, is that it?”

  Nick’s cell phone sat on the kitchen counter and the lit-up message icon mocked him. When he saw Galen’s name on the screen after all of these months, it had been a shock, and it brought back a whole flood of desires and feelings he’d thought he’d dealt with and shoved away. Apparently not. Even now, he was still wrestling with them. He wanted Galen, and not just in his bed. The memory of Galen’s smile still captivated him and made him want to see it again. He’d never smiled enough.

  So Galen had called back. Nick had h
onestly thought he wouldn’t. The first twenty-four hours he’d debated whether or not he should pick up the phone first. The second, he’d congratulated himself on being right and not falling for Galen’s tease. The third day he’d cursed himself for letting an opportunity pass him by. Now what the hell was he doing? He still stared at the icon and still resisted listening to the message after several hours. He had to be touched in the head.

  He dumped the can of Italian Wedding Soup into his saucepan, added a little roasted garlic and some seasonings, then set it to simmer. Amy winged in, lit on her perch on the back of a chair, and bobbed her head along to the radio that Galen had going above the microwave. “What do you two think? Delete or listen?”

  Rory launched himself from his shoulder and joined Amy. Rory had been incredibly pitiful until Nick had found a companion for him. It made Nick smile to see them, Rory a beautiful shade of gray that contrasted with Amy’s pristine white. Both had the yellow crest, though Amy’s was a paler shade, and both had the orange spots on their cheeks, which made them look like cheery troublemakers in Nick’s opinion. “You two are no help.”

  Finally, he picked up his phone, set it to speaker, and hit the voice mail button. He’d regret it the moment he deleted it if he didn’t listen first. Moments later, Galen’s low, husky voice filled the kitchen and Nick’s pulse leapt. He didn’t understand how he could’ve let one man get under his skin so much.

  “Hey, Nick. I know you probably never expected me to call.” Nick stopped stirring the soup. Was that nerves in Galen’s voice? No, that would require Galen to desire something past his own immediate gratification. That brought memories of a naked Galen back to his mind. If Galen knew anything, it was gratification, and Nick’s body hadn’t forgotten that either.

  “I’ve been thinking about you a lot. I didn’t think I had the right to call until I had my head on straight, and then it seemed like too much time had passed and you didn’t need me stirring up things again.”

  Nick added some more pepper to the soup and took out a bowl. He should just delete the message and not respond; he didn’t need the heartache. Galen would get the point, and after all this time he doubted the man would try another hookup again, but he continued to listen, curious despite himself.

  Galen paused before continuing in an excited voice. “So I have these statues that showed up in my storeroom. They look Hellenic or maybe Roman in origin, and I wondered if you’d be interested in taking a look at them. I know you’ve done some wreck diving and you like art history. I thought you might have some insights into them.”

  The tiny hope inside him died and Nick ground his teeth because he shouldn’t have allowed himself to feel it at all. Business. He should’ve known better to think that Galen would’ve wanted to speak to him for anything else. It was time to delete the voice mail and drop the past. Galen had made it very clear from the first night they met that he had no interest in pursuing a relationship. Nick should’ve known better than to think he could change his mind.

  “The statues are strange, obviously old, and they seem only half-finished. It looks as if there should be a mate to them.” Galen’s voice trailed off and Nick froze, his skin tingling as adrenaline raced through him. No fucking way. “A missing lover…. I’ve never seen anything like it. I think you’d be fascinated. Please give me a call back. I should be at the museum for the rest of the day; maybe we could have dinner together. I’d really like to see you again.”

  Nick’s hands trembled, and the wooden spoon he’d been stirring with clattered down on the stovetop. The Dexios Collection. It had to be. How the hell had Galen come across the statues? They’d been lost before over the many centuries, and they’d always somehow ended back in his family’s hands, except this time.

  He had to find a lawyer, get the paperwork proving ownership. Only that meant he’d have to talk to his dad. Nick winced at the thought of another painful, awkward conversation with him. His brothers were even worse. He’d have to deal with lectures along with the awkwardness. He did not want to put up with that right now.

  Nick switched his thoughts back to the problem at hand. Galen would want to keep them. Nick couldn’t blame him there, but they belonged to him. No, wait, he should see the statues first, make sure they were the Dexios Collection before he started jumping around all over the place and causing trouble.

  There was a long pause, and then Galen continued in a softer voice that cut through Nick’s thoughts. “I’m sorry for the way things ended between us. I was an ass, and it’s past time I acknowledged it. I just thought you should know, I am sorry.”

  Nick stared at the phone, and his mouth dropped open. The tension that gripped him ever since Galen started to talk business melted away. Nobody could tie him up in knots and turn his emotions inside out like Galen. Damn the man. Nick couldn’t help the small smile that crossed his lips. Wasn’t that what had enthralled him in the first place?

  Nick shoved away the thoughts of a nonexistent relationship and concentrated on the important issue. First things first. He had to establish whether or not the statues were the Dexios Collection. After that he could go from there.

  Nick grabbed his phone, called Galen back, and cursed under his breath when it went to voice mail. “Galen, it’s Nick. Call me back. Look, if those statues are what I think they are, it’s huge. They’ve been lost for decades. Please call me back. I want to take a look at them. How the hell did you manage to get your hands on them? Call me, please, I don’t care what time it is when you get in.”

  He tossed his phone on the counter, willed it to ring, and drummed his fingers while he stared. He glanced at his watch with a curse. The museum would’ve been closed for hours, which meant that Galen was probably off to one of his clubs, trolling for a hookup. Nick couldn’t wait till morning. He had to see those statues. And if they were the Dexios Collection, they were his. Galen would have to come to Nick on his terms for once.

  Last time they’d started with the sex and had somewhat become friends. At least that’s what Nick had thought until they parted ways. But if Galen had felt anything other than lust for him, he surely wouldn’t have waited this long. This time, Nick was determined to keep their relationship focused on purely business. He would not fall for Galen again.

  “I hate to do this to you, guys, but it’s back into the cage you go. I’ll be back as soon as I can, I promise.” He lifted Rory and Amy to his shoulder. Amy screeched when he transferred her to the cage and Rory followed, his crest flattening in distress. “I’m sorry, guys. I’ll make it up to you; I’ll bring out the bath tonight.”

  Nick headed for the door and turned back with another oath to shut off the stove. At this rate, he’d come back to a gutted apartment. Good going, Nick, good going. Get a fucking grip.

  CHAPTER THREE

  GALEN shut his laptop with a sigh and rolled his chair over to look out the arched window to the side of the desk. Night had fallen hours ago; the moon had risen above the window so the only light that spilled across the pervasive gloom came from the little lamp on his desk. The Space Needle stood out like a beacon against the bars, clubs, and theaters that sparkled like a field of fireflies across the cityscape. That nightlife had drawn him in once.

  He walked over to the window, leaned his arm against the brick, and looked down. Nick hadn’t called him back, so he’d sent queries out to some other scholars he knew at the university to see if they could track down more information on the myth Suzane had discovered. So far he hadn’t been able to find out any more than she had.

  Nick hadn’t called him back. His thoughts flitted back to that very important fact. Well, if he wanted some kind of sign, that was the slap in the face he needed and no doubt deserved. He had no business being disappointed, yet that didn’t stop the sinking in his gut and chest. Would it have been too hard to have taken a chance with Nick six months ago?

  Galen stuffed his laptop in its carrying bag and grabbed his keys. His stomach rumbled with the demand for sustenance wi
th more substance to it than coffee and pretzels. He checked to make sure the massive fire station doors along the workshop and the storefront were locked tight. When he reached the doorway to the museum proper, Galen paused and shut off the alarm. He wanted one more look at the statues in their proper setting before he went back to his empty apartment.

  Shadows blanketed the hallway, but he had grown accustomed to making his way through the museum with just the security lights for illumination. The museum wasn’t that big, and it didn’t take him long to get to the new exhibit. Galen paused in the doorway, stunned by the sight before him. The security lights hadn’t been set up here yet, but the row of skylights stretching across the roof faced the rising full moon, and the room was awash with a pale-blue glow. In the shadows and light, the statue facing him looked almost alive, ready to move at any moment and finish the action he’d started.

  Galen walked over to him, his heart thudding, and laid his hand on the man’s forearm. How surreal. For a moment it almost seemed like heated flesh beneath his fingers and not cooler bronze. “Who are you, Dexios? And why do you seem so familiar to me?”

  Silence answered him, and Galen had the insane urge to slip under those embracing arms to press himself up against the man. He stepped back with a short, uneasy laugh and stuck his hand into his pocket. With his luck he’d get stuck. He didn’t want to hear Suzane’s laughter the next morning when she found him entangled with a statue. He’d never live it down.

  This obsession, this inability to get these statues out of his mind, was unhealthy. He needed to go home and relax, as Suzane had suggested. Go home and find some way to get Nick out of his thoughts.

  “Shouldn’t you prefer flesh and bone to metal? You never were one to put your faith in the mystical.”