Only You by Jerry Cole (the top 100 crime novels of all time TXT) 📕

“I was researching a role!”

“Until you weren't,” Sherman countered. “In fact, I don’t think you’ve even mentioned that role once since —”

“I’ve been distracted!” Bradley didn’t even know why he was arguing. He had been lying after all.

Sherman gave his hands a tighter squeeze. “I don’t care,” he assured him. “I don’t care if you're an actor or a street worker. It doesn’t bother me in the slightest – all I care about is that you’re you. Which...” he pretended to look behind Bradley, as if expecting someone else to pop out suddenly. “...I think you are? I can’t see any evidence that you’re not —”

“But I lied,” Bradley pointed out. “I have been lying since we met.”

Sherman shrugged. “So did I, if you remember.”

“I guess – but that’s different!”

“How?”

Bradley opened his mouth to argue, but then hesitated. Sherman was right, he had done the exact same thing when they’d first met. The only difference was that he dropped the charade a little sooner than Bradley had. So, if Bradley didn’t mind, why would Sherman?

“I’ve been taking advantage of you,” Bradley sighed.

“Believe me when I say I’ve been getting mine back,” Sherman winked and licked his lips.

Bradley blushed. “You’re not mad?”

“Honestly?” Sherman dropped Bradley’s hands, sat up straight and fixed him with his most serious stare yet. “I have one question for you, and you better answer truthfully.” A beat as their eyes met. “Do you want me to book you a first-class flight to Bali, or Business Class? I don’t mind which.”

Bradley was so happy that he could have cried. Indeed, as Sherman scooped his laptop back up and got about finding flights for Bradley to meet him in Bali in three months’ time, he could feel his chin begin to shake and his bottom lip begin to quiver. How Bradley had gotten so lucky, he would never know.

“I don’t care,” he said with a smile. “So long as I’m in your bed that night.”

“Oh... I think we can arrange that.”

“Actually.” Bradley reached forward, grabbed at Sherman’s laptop and pushed it to the side. He then scrambled forward and mounted him, his hand going immediately for Sherman’s crotch. “Why wait?”

“Best that we get a little practice in before —”

Whatever Sherman was about to say became cut off as Bradley’s lips mashed into his. They had one final day on this yacht before both men had to fly back home to Australia. As such, Bradley figured they better take full advantage while they could.

And so, they did... a couple of times, to be fair.

Chapter Eight

“This isn’t going to take very long, is it?” Sherman checked the time on his phone. It was 7:30PM, which meant that he had exactly one hour to get this meeting over with and get back home. He couldn’t be late.

“Five minutes,” Nick shrugged. “Maybe ten if he likes you – but he doesn’t like anybody,” he finished with a nervous chuckle and a readjustment of his tie. Nick rarely looked nervous, so the fact he was right now was telling.

“Good.” Sherman chose to ignore Nick’s clear anxiety as he pocketed his phone. “Because I really don’t want to have to cut this thing sh —”

“All right, all right,” Nick eased. “Jesus — you’re aware that this isn’t like a regular meeting, yeah? I didn’t call the dude’s secretary and have her put this down in the books. He doesn’t do these all the time, like a fucking accountant or something. You got lucky he’s seeing you at all – do you know the risk these guys take, meeting new clients?”

Sherman rolled his eyes. “Yeah, it’s not like I’m paying him or anything.”

“It’s about more than money with these people.”

“I doubt that.”

“Trust. Loyalty. Knowing you’re not going to call the cops the minute you get pissed. These things you can’t buy.” Nick then paused for a moment, when a satisfied smiled came to his face. “For everything else, there’s Master Card.”

“Funny.”

“Thank you.”

Nick must have noticed how tense Sherman was looking because he gave it a minute before shaking his head to himself and slapping Sherman on the back as if to calm him down. “It’s all right, mate. I’ve met him a dozen times. He’s fine... good guy. He’s a good... good guy.” He didn’t sound convincing.

“I doubt it – but that’s not... I just need to be back home in an hour, that’s all.”

“And I’ll get you there – what's it for, anyhow? You were annoyingly brief when I asked you earlier. Hot date? Eh?” Nick smirked and attempted to pull what he must have thought to be a seductive expression on his face. “Will this be the first Friday night in a year that you haven’t spent alone —”

“Business call,” Sherman lied. “About the cruise ships.”

Nick’s face dropped. “Ah, of course... should have known. A fucking business call. Cruise ships, he says.”

It wasn’t a business call that Sherman had to make in what was now, fifty-eight minutes away. The call he had to make was far, far more important than any old business call. But Nick didn’t need to know that. Especially when considering where the two men were and what they were about to be doing.

As mentioned, it was a Friday night, just past 7:30PM, roughly one and a half months after Sherman had returned from Europe. In many ways, Sherman was a different man than he had been when he had left on what he was now referring to as a ‘business trip,’ but only because it sounded a little more professional.

He was certainly a little more confident in himself. He was almost definitely happier, and he was just generally grateful for the little things in his life. And even though he’d had to bite the bullet and