something—a tingling, electric jolt of recognition—when Ben touched him.
He wanted to turn his hand and lace their fingers together. He’d been so long without
human touch he thought he might die from the pleasure of that simple contact.
“I think you’re like me,” Ben whispered. “And I think you’re looking for someone
like me. A man who’s strong enough to keep your secrets.”
“It’s not safe.” Rafe swallowed around the knot of anxiety he’d been feeling since
he’d met Ben.
Z. A. Maxfield | Secret Light
47
“Nothing is safe, Rafe. Driving to work is a gamble. I see accidents all the time. I see
enough tragedy every day. I’m here to tell you, nothing is safe. But I’m careful and
loyal. Whatever part of yourself you want to share, you can put your faith in me.”
Before he even realized what he was about to do, Rafe lifted his hand and cupped
the battered side of Ben’s face. Lightly, he thumbed the mottled skin beneath Ben’s
swollen eye. When Ben grinned at him, Rafe grinned back.
“ This is a tragedy. Such a pretty face all… zusammengeschlagen .” Ruined . In his heart,
he knew he was the cause of the altercation between Ben and his partner.
Ben must not be harmed because of me again.
But Christ , it was intoxicating—the warmth of Ben’s skin, the way those green eyes
studied him. The longing. The tenderness.
Ben had experience, and Rafe knew it. It was written in the calm, almost leisurely
stroke of Ben’s fingers up and down the inside of his arm. It manifested itself in a dozen
different ways but mostly in the deliberate slowing of Ben’s movements—his even
breathing—when Rafe felt like he’d have to gasp for breath or explode from his skin
like popped corn.
Is that fear?
Is it nerves or anxiety or—God almighty—is it desire ? Rafe desperately wanted this
man’s hands on him. His sure, skilled fingers. Rafe wanted Ben to make him feel all the
things he’d barely dared to imagine.
Suddenly Ben rose until he was tantalizingly close. Rafe barely tipped his head and
Ben’s lips met his, causing rockets to burst in his bloodstream. All the colors of the
rainbow throbbed behind Rafe’s eyelids, and he clung for a few seconds to the fantasy
that he could do this. That he could have Ben.
That for once, he could let go of his fear.
The possibility sparkled in the air between them like fireworks, but just as quickly,
the utter darkness of doubt closed in.
Z. A. Maxfield | Secret Light
48
Shaken, Rafe pulled away. He picked up his glass with trembling fingers and
tipped back the last of his whiskey. He intended to rise from where he sat and see Ben
out. But he couldn’t move.
There couldn’t be any more for them than this.
His voice was nearly inaudible when he said, “Good night, Ben. Thank you for
listening to my story.”
Z. A. Maxfield | Secret Light
49
Chapter Six
December 9, 1955
Rafe sat in his office, tapping a pen against his blotter, staring at the same yellow
lead cards he’d been looking at all day. He had to get a cup of coffee and find his
gumption, or the leads would still be sitting on his desk on Monday morning.
Somewhere, in that stack of little yellow cards was the man to whom Rafe would make
his next sale, and getting to it meant he was that much closer to closing the deal.
What was wrong with him? Rafe could not allow his life’s momentum to come to a
grinding halt at the first touch of a man’s lips on his.
But what an astonishing kiss.
Even now he could feel the delicate brush of Ben’s mouth against his, the scratchy
upper lip, the whiskey-scented breath between them.
Why had he done it? Why now ? After a thousand opportunities with men and an
equal number of come-ons from women, why had he given in to temptation with Ben—
a police officer , of all people?
Why?
A tap at his office door caused him to glance up. Jack Gold’s head poked in, but the
rest of his body dutifully remained
He wanted to turn his hand and lace their fingers together. He’d been so long without
human touch he thought he might die from the pleasure of that simple contact.
“I think you’re like me,” Ben whispered. “And I think you’re looking for someone
like me. A man who’s strong enough to keep your secrets.”
“It’s not safe.” Rafe swallowed around the knot of anxiety he’d been feeling since
he’d met Ben.
Z. A. Maxfield | Secret Light
47
“Nothing is safe, Rafe. Driving to work is a gamble. I see accidents all the time. I see
enough tragedy every day. I’m here to tell you, nothing is safe. But I’m careful and
loyal. Whatever part of yourself you want to share, you can put your faith in me.”
Before he even realized what he was about to do, Rafe lifted his hand and cupped
the battered side of Ben’s face. Lightly, he thumbed the mottled skin beneath Ben’s
swollen eye. When Ben grinned at him, Rafe grinned back.
“ This is a tragedy. Such a pretty face all… zusammengeschlagen .” Ruined . In his heart,
he knew he was the cause of the altercation between Ben and his partner.
Ben must not be harmed because of me again.
But Christ , it was intoxicating—the warmth of Ben’s skin, the way those green eyes
studied him. The longing. The tenderness.
Ben had experience, and Rafe knew it. It was written in the calm, almost leisurely
stroke of Ben’s fingers up and down the inside of his arm. It manifested itself in a dozen
different ways but mostly in the deliberate slowing of Ben’s movements—his even
breathing—when Rafe felt like he’d have to gasp for breath or explode from his skin
like popped corn.
Is that fear?
Is it nerves or anxiety or—God almighty—is it desire ? Rafe desperately wanted this
man’s hands on him. His sure, skilled fingers. Rafe wanted Ben to make him feel all the
things he’d barely dared to imagine.
Suddenly Ben rose until he was tantalizingly close. Rafe barely tipped his head and
Ben’s lips met his, causing rockets to burst in his bloodstream. All the colors of the
rainbow throbbed behind Rafe’s eyelids, and he clung for a few seconds to the fantasy
that he could do this. That he could have Ben.
That for once, he could let go of his fear.
The possibility sparkled in the air between them like fireworks, but just as quickly,
the utter darkness of doubt closed in.
Z. A. Maxfield | Secret Light
48
Shaken, Rafe pulled away. He picked up his glass with trembling fingers and
tipped back the last of his whiskey. He intended to rise from where he sat and see Ben
out. But he couldn’t move.
There couldn’t be any more for them than this.
His voice was nearly inaudible when he said, “Good night, Ben. Thank you for
listening to my story.”
Z. A. Maxfield | Secret Light
49
Chapter Six
December 9, 1955
Rafe sat in his office, tapping a pen against his blotter, staring at the same yellow
lead cards he’d been looking at all day. He had to get a cup of coffee and find his
gumption, or the leads would still be sitting on his desk on Monday morning.
Somewhere, in that stack of little yellow cards was the man to whom Rafe would make
his next sale, and getting to it meant he was that much closer to closing the deal.
What was wrong with him? Rafe could not allow his life’s momentum to come to a
grinding halt at the first touch of a man’s lips on his.
But what an astonishing kiss.
Even now he could feel the delicate brush of Ben’s mouth against his, the scratchy
upper lip, the whiskey-scented breath between them.
Why had he done it? Why now ? After a thousand opportunities with men and an
equal number of come-ons from women, why had he given in to temptation with Ben—
a police officer , of all people?
Why?
A tap at his office door caused him to glance up. Jack Gold’s head poked in, but the
rest of his body dutifully remained
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