* * * * *
The terrain had changed quite a bit from that morning: sunbaked bluffs and stony slopes giving way to chinquapin shrubs and manzanita which yielded in turn to hillsides of oaks and conifers leading to a series of meadows and lakes.
After leaving the junction campsite, they followed a trail which descended the north wall of East Hancock Gorge. The drop was moderate at first but ended with a series of steep, rocky switchbacks.
Taylor’s legs were shaking by the time they reached the bottom of a long trench where a green and sparkling tributary tumbled in a suicidal fall off the mountainside. They still had that mountainside to get down, and he was glad he wasn’t carrying his pack — in fact, it seemed worth two million dollars to have unloaded it. He was cold, he was hungry, and he was depressed.
Even the thought of having recovered the money from the Black Wolf Casino heist didn’t particularly cheer him up; maybe Will had a point if recovering a couple of million dollars felt less important than the rift in their partnership. Maybe his priorities were getting screwed up. At this point he was too tired to care.
He followed Will down a narrow, deeply shaded trail to a clearing where white steam rose in the rain-swept air from what looked like a rough, rock-ringed pool. Will stopped and lowered his pack, so apparently they were taking another break, and thank Jesus for that. At this point, a few weeks of being stuck on desk duty sounded like paradise.
“Junction Hot Springs,” Will said. “There used to be a hotel a few miles down the mountain. I think it’s a private lodge now. If it’s still there at all.”
“A hotel here?”
“It was a health resort. People used to come up here for the fresh air and massage and the miracle waters.”
Taylor was rolling his head from side to side on his shoulders, trying to work out a crick. “I wouldn’t mind a massage.” He heard the echo of his voice, and just managed to avoid looking at Will.
After a minute, Will said, “Well, how about a hot bath anyway? Get you nice and warmed up, take the ache out of your muscles.”
Will was already pulling his olive drab sweater over his head, followed by his thermal top, and then his snowy white T-shirt. Beneath all the layers, his chest was brown and smooth, the soft dark hair bisecting his taut, muscular torso and disappearing beneath the band of his camo pants.
“Are you serious?”
“Yeah. We could both use it.” Unself-consciously — and why should he be self-conscious? They’d dressed and undressed in front of each other plenty of times — Will stepped out of his pants and boxers, lowering cautiously to the man-made cement bench inside the pool.
Hands propped on his hips, Taylor studied him, but Will just sighed and closed his eyes, putting his head back. “Come on, MacAllister,” he murmured. “Relax for five minutes.”
Swearing under his breath, Taylor peeled off his vest, flannel shirt, T-shirt and wriggled out of his Levi’s. Will ignored him, still soaking, face skyward while the steam drifted up around him.
Taylor slid into the water and yelped, standing up and preparing to jump right back out. “Jesus, it’s boiling!”
Will’s eyes opened. “It’s about one hundred and fifteen degrees.” Will was a stickler for accuracy. He always insisted on looking over Taylor’s reports before he handed them in — not that Taylor was any less accurate — but Will was a little bit of a control freak. “Stay still,” he advised. He was flushed and perspiring, but on him it looked good. Sexy. But then Will looked sexy whether he was staring down the barrel of an M4 or eating a sloppy joe.
Taylor leveled him a look but held motionless, giving his body time to adjust to the heat. Finally, he eased the rest of the way down on the stone bench and sank back, the water level rising as he did, sloshing gently back against Will, who stretched his arms out along the back of the tub.
The steam settled on Taylor’s face, and his forehead broke out in sweat. He breathed in deeply, hot moisture invading his nostrils.
Will smiled lazily.
Taylor spread his legs, the water rippling gently with his motion, and let the wet heat suffuse every part of his body. Yeah, that was better. The water was silky soft, and now the heat felt caressing, sinking into every pore, every cavity. Startling, but good. In fact, it was the first time he’d felt really warm in days.
He glanced over and Will was staring. He looked down. His chest was still a mess of scars beneath the soft dusting of returning hair. The scars would fade in time but they were ugly now. He let himself slip lower into the water, hiding the ugliness from Will.
Will’s eyes moved to his face, and Taylor said, “This was a good idea.”
Will nodded.
“Finally,” Taylor added, and Will chuckled and kicked water his way. And because Taylor was lying so low, he took a wave of hot mineral water in the face — which couldn’t go without retaliation.
A second later Will was the one with his hair plastered down his face. He whipped his hair back and laughed. Water sparkled on the tips of his eyelashes and his teeth were very white.
“You’re living dangerously, buddy boy.”
Taylor lazily flipped his foot, spattering Will with smoky wet.
“Bring it on, cowboy,” he drawled.
Will dived for him and they grappled amiably, hands slipping on slick bodies, tussling and twisting in the steaming water. They stepped on each other’s feet, but avoided kneeing anything vital, the rough stone scraping their backs and butts — panting and laughing.
Finally, Taylor managed to wriggle free, and half-lunged, half-waded over to the other side of the tub. Will turned
