The Terms of Release by BA Tortuga Read Free Book Online Page A

introduce them. ’Course it helped that the man held a pizza.
    “This is my little girl, Penny. Penny, this is Adam.”
    She sniffed, licked, then dropped her head on her paws, soaking up the last of the sun.
    “She’s a good girl.” They walked inside and Adam held up the bag. “This is pie. There’s an ice pack in there, but you might want it in the fridge.”
    “Pie?” Sage couldn’t help his grin. He’d missed his dessert, and he was stupidly pleased that he could have it again tonight. “Can you put it in there, please? I got to clean myself up some.”
    “You bet. Wilma says hey.”
    “I’ll have to tell her thank you.” He headed to his little bedroom and stripped off his work shirt, found a clean T-shirt, and gave himself a spit bath in the sink with a washrag and a bit of soap. It would work.
    When he got back, Adam was digging out plates and paper towels, looking natural in Sage’s kitchen.
    “There’s Cokes in the fridge, iff’n you want. I got Sprite and Dr Pepper both.”
    “Oh, I like the good Doctor. Which do you want?”
    “I’ll take a Dr Pepper too. It cuts the grease.” Sage had himself a wee wooden cafe table, with two tall chairs. He’d made them for Momma when he was a teenager in woodshop, and she’d kept them.
    “Sure.” Adam finally came to the table and laid everything out. The pizza wasn’t as hot as it had probably been when Adam had shown up, but it was cheesy and spicy and good. Sage ate, not sure what to do, focusing on the food, on not bumping into Adam, not spilling.
    He didn’t have cable. He had a DVD player and a copy of Tombstone and one of 8 Seconds . Neither of them were really pizza movies.
    “That was good.” Adam sat back, patting his belly, which was nice and flat.
    “It was. Thank you. I haven’t had pizza since….” Since he was a teenager. “…a long time.”
    “Well, you’re welcome.” Adam leaned his elbows on the table, looking right at him. “Look, I’m sorry if I’m being pushy. I just—somehow, I want to get to know you.”
    “Why?” Why on earth would a cop be interested in learning about him? He was an ex-con, totally out of place here, and he’d have kept his shame in California if he could have. He couldn’t figure out how to not help Daddy, though, and he owed his folks, big time, so here his happy ass stayed. “It’ll get you in trouble, won’t it?”
    “Oh, I reckon it will make some folks mad.” Shrugging, Adam sat back and held up his hands. “I do that anyway.”
    “So, uh. You were in the Army? Everyone says you’re a hero.” Sage felt about as stupid as anything.
    “I did one tour in the Med, one in, uh, someplace a lot less pleasant.” Adam picked up the plates and went to wash up. “I’m not sure a stint in the Green Zone in Baghdad makes me a hero.”
    “You should take the compliment. There’s nothing wrong with being a hero.” Right? Heroes were… heroes. The alternative was whatever he was. Or a supervillain.
    He wasn’t a supervillain, right? He was a cowboy.
    “I try to. I saw a lot of shit going on over there.” Adam chuckled. “Want some pie? Or is it too soon?”
    “I’ll probably wait a bit. Do you want a cup of coffee?”
    “Sure. I’d love one.”
    Sage made a pot of Folgers, fed Penny, wiped out the sink, and poured two cups. “Black, right?”
    “Yep.” Adam watched him in the most unnerving way. There was no speculation, no maliciousness. Just pure, intense interest. It was like being caught—a butterfly on a pin.
    He handed the coffee over, then sat, about as wigged as he could be.
    “Do you need me to head out, Sage?” Those dark brown eyes were too damned knowing. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. Really.”
    “No. No, I just… I don’t know what to do.” Everything was new. Everything. He had a place of his own, sort of. He had someone there. He had things that were his. He’d been so young when he went in that he didn’t know how to process any of