Tangled Up in Love

Debra Fran Baker


"So, who belongs to which jeans, tiger?" Montana held up two pair of equally stressed and faded denims.

"Good question, babe. Let's figure this out. Give 'em over." To Montana's surprise, his new friend Jim Ellison took both pair, held them for a moment...was he *smelling* them?...and gave one back.

"You sure?"

"Yep." Jim began to wriggle into the pair he'd claimed for himself. Oh, God, even getting dressed, the man was hot. He moved like a cat. Montana was so enthralled he forgot to put his own on."

"Enjoying the show?" Now that was a blinding smile.

"Oh, yeah. Put it *on*."

Jim winked and pulled his jeans up to his hips, but left them unbuttoned. Then he slowly reached for his t-shirt. Montana's breathing caught as he watched Jim use the shirt to stroke his chest, fingertips just brushing his nipples.

Montana knew exactly how that chest felt, too. It took all his will power to not pounce on that graceful cat of a man, but he remembered his colleague downstairs. Even if Jim didn't care, he did.

"What's going on up there, guys? Coffee's up!"

Jim jumped, and hurriedly put on his shirt and closed his pants. Montana sighed in regret - although the guy made a very nice picture fully clothed as well - and got dressed.

He made such a nice picture that Montana could not resist grabbing a firm and tightly encased buttock before they made their way downstairs. Jim leered and pinched a nipple through his shirt.

"Are you sure about this, Jim? It's fun, but there's your friend downstairs."

Jim bit his lip. "There's just something about you, Montana. I can't put my finger on it, but I'm having too good a time."

"Me, too, but let's cool it."

Sandburg was waiting for them downstairs, with some mugs and a pot of coffee on the table. He was still wearing his, or rather, his father's, fedora, with his long curly hair streaming under it. He was grinning. He was utterly adorable. Montana looked at Jim.

Was the man an idiot?

Jim shrugged, and gestured for Montana to sit.

He hesitated. "Are you guys sure you want me here? I could go to my hotel..."

"It's cool, Dr. Jones." He nodded and sat. "Now, then. Jim."

Ellison took a deep breath. "Chief, I swear to you I had no idea you were interested."

"Man, we are going to have to *work* on that gaydar. I practically *threw* myself at you. Practically, hell."

"You were saving my life, Sandburg."

"Yeah...but I was also enjoying myself. And you hit that breakfast I cooked for you *right* on the nose." He turned to Montana, who was completely confused. "He called it a mating ritual, Dr. Jones. I spent the rest of the day waiting for him to do something, especially since he *never* stopped touching me." He smiled. "So, what was it? Was I living with the world's biggest closet case or was I just not your type?"

"*You*? A closet case? Mr. Sandburg, he had no hesitation in the airport."

"Thanks a lot, babe. Blair, I'm serious. I thought you were completely straight, and I didn't want to risk losing you. Maybe it