When Jonathan McKinney meets Jonathan McKinney, intrigue sizzles in the Tucson heat. Except for sharing their name, date of birth, and hometown, Jon and Nathan have nothing in common. Nevertheless, their mutual attraction is impossible to resist.
As passion ignites, their worlds collide. Where Nathan thrives as a dermatologist, Jon is all rough edges and hard lessons. With their love growing deeper every day, no challenge seems big enough to tear them apart.
Until the universe deals Jon a double blow: a friend’s death and a shattering family secret. Questioning everything, Jon no longer believes he’ll ever be happy. Not only does he push Nathan away, he goes back to his old, dangerous lifestyle.
Now Jon has a decision to make: fight for the man who feels like home, or protect him by walking away.
“Nathan, could you stop checking me out? Or at least be more subtle and pretend to look at your phone?”
“What?” he quips, way too fast not to be casual about it. “I’m not ... I’m ... Okay, maybe a little. Sorry, it’s just ... I’m trying to understand your deal.”
“My deal?”
“Yeah. You’re a hard man to figure out. Why would you offer me food to keep my anger in check and give me a schooling on racism while you’re at it? You don’t know me. I could be a giant asshat. Yet, here you are, being kind.” He raises his long palms and adds, “Okay, and you’re easy on the eyes -- in a bad boy on the mend kind of way, if you must know. There, I said it. Happy, Jon?”
I smirk. “Very. Always wanted a rich dude to call me pretty at a police station. Yup, I’m ticking it off my bucket list when I get home.”
Snorting, he says, “Shut up. I’m not that rich.”
I roll my eyes over his features head to toe and back.
“I’m not.”
“Okay, whatever you say. Shame about my bucket list, though.”
He laughs. “You’ve got issues, man.”
“Wow. Pot and kettle much?”
“Hey. At least my issues are out in the open. Who knows what darkness lurks behind all those ... those muscles and tattoos and -- and your stoicism? Between the two of us, guess who’d be the psychopath?”
“You,” both of us say, then chuckle. Fuck, this guy is fun. It’s been a long time since I had this good a time with a guy fully clothed.
“Jonathan McKinney,” the front desk lady yells.
Nathan stands at the same time as me. “Okay, Jon, thanks for the protein bar. It was nice meeting you. I know people say that all the time like it’s common decency, but I mean it.”
He must have figured out my full name is Jonathan. I can’t help but note the 180 turn in his demeanor. I did this. I helped transform this handsome, yet angry stranger back into a well-mannered citizen. Maybe this wasn’t such a waste of time after all.
“You’re welcome. You too. Oh, and drive safe.” I wink.
His lips stretch into a wide smile. “Will do.”
I pull my backpack over one shoulder and head for the front desk to get this over with, all the while seeing my saggy couch in my head inching closer.
“Uhm, Jon?” Nathan says, one step behind me. “What are you doing? She said Jonathan McKinney.”
“I know.”
“Well, that’s my name.”
“No, it’s not. It’s mine.”
He frowns and steps closer. “Jon, are you feeling okay? Been out in the sun a lot?” Despite the kindness in his eyes and the softness of his voice, I suddenly feel threatened by this gorgeous man. Trusting people is what got me in trouble in the first place. These days I like to believe I’ve learned from my mistakes.
“No. I mean, yes, I’m okay; no, I haven’t been outside that much. My name is Jonathan McKinney. What are you trying to do here, Nathan? Stop harassing me already. It’s not funny.”
He huffs, then crosses his long arms over his chest. “Excuse me? Harassing you? I agree. It’s not funny at all. Therefore, you might want to stop acting like you’re me.”
“Gentlemen, no one is harassing anyone, so stop whatever this is,” Miss Kaneki says, twirling her finger at us, “It actually is funny. It appears you’re both named Jonathan McKinney. Come on. Let’s see your driver’s licenses or IDs.”
Just like Nathan after fiddling with his brown leather wallet, I slap my driver’s license on the counter.
The hell?
“What the fuck?” Nathan says. “Is this some kind of prank?” He gasps. “Identity theft, that’s what this is. Who the fuck are you, and where do you get off using my name and reputation, huh?”
There it is. My good old friend accusation crawling out of the darkest corner in my mind to torture me some more. I don’t know which is worse: Nathan looking at me like I’m a criminal or me shutting down completely, staggering backward like I really am guilty. Out come all my insecurities. No matter what I say, no one will believe my word over this pristine-looking man who smells of privilege. My breathing speeds up, adrenaline at the ready to prepare for a lightning-quick exit if need be.
“Sir, I’d keep my accusations to myself if I were you. According to our databases, you’re both legitimately named Jonathan McKinney, and were both born on December 5th, 1993, here in Tucson. Wow, just when you think you’ve seen it all.”
Trying to wrap his head around what’s happening, Nathan’s head turns from me to Miss Kaneki and back, jaw dropped and brow pinched.
“The words you’re looking for are I’m and sorry,” she adds, still absorbed in the contents of her computer screen.
“Right. I’m sorry, Jon. That was uncalled for. I swear I’m not always this big of a jerk.”
Breathe. You’re okay. They’re not coming for you.
