by Lynn Hagen
But that was water under the bridge now.
“And you,” Stanton said after he’d deposited all his clothes in two washers. “You need to do something about Buttercup. He’s another terror that thinks anything in the house is his chew toy. He even pissed on the dining room carpet three times in the past four days. Our house is starting to smell like urine, and that’s just nasty. No amount of your scrubbing is getting that smell out.”
Horace wasn’t sure what to do with Buttercup. He’d thought getting him from the shelter would help his loneliness. Stanton worked all the time, and Layne and Stevie no longer lived there. Horace didn’t like living in such a quiet house. He missed talking with someone, arguing over what they would watch and who was gonna cook dinner. That was why he’d gotten a dog.
But the dog was proving to be a problem. In truth, he wasn’t even supposed to have a pet, but Horace had gotten him anyway. “I’ll scrub the carpet again when I get home.”
Stanton hugged Horace. “I know why you got him, but I don’t think he’s worth the trouble. Maybe Buttercup needs a home with a bunch of children running around.”
Horace looked over at the kids sitting with their mother. They had high energy, and so did Buttercup. But Horace couldn’t imagine parting with his dog. They both needed each other. Two sad, lonely souls who depended on one another.
“Maybe.” He shrugged Stanton’s arm off him. “I have to wipe things down.”
Stanton chuckled. “The place already looks immaculate and smells incredible, but don’t let me stop you.”
Horace would try his dang best with Buttercup. Maybe there was some inexpensive doggy class he could take Buttercup to that would teach him not to pee in the house and chew on everything.
After his shift ended, Horace headed home. He cried out when he walked inside and found one of the throw pillows shredded all over the living room floor.
And there was a large wet stain in front of the coffee table. Horace was so over it as he walked down the hallway. He stopped when he saw a roll of toilet paper torn up by his bedroom door.
“Buttercup!” Horace stormed back toward the living room. The dog ran to Horace and wagged his tail, excited. “What am I going to do with you?”
He scooped the dog up and hugged him before setting him down and getting to work cleaning up the messes. By the time he was done scrubbing the carpet, in two places, he was starving.
His phone rang, interrupting the graveyard silence, making him jump at the loud noise echoing from his pocket. He pulled it free and answered while eyeing Buttercup to make sure the dog didn’t find another spot to pee. “Hello?”
“I need you to come over,” Stevie said. “Quinn had something to do, and I’m determined to put this crib together myself, but I need help because I swear these instructions were made to confuse and frustrate people. None of it makes any damn sense.”
If he wanted to do it by himself, why was he asking for help? “If you feed me, then I’m there.”
Since there were only two roommates in the house now, money was tighter than ever before, and the cupboards were looking bleak. He’d considered getting a second job, but that would mean leaving Buttercup alone even longer, and if Horace did that, he might not have a house to come home to once Buttercup was done tearing it apart and drowning everything in urine.
“I’ll order whatever you want.” Stevie sounded ecstatic. “Just get here and help me before Quinn gets back.”
“But you just found out you’re pregnant. Why’d you get a crib already?”
“I couldn’t wait.” Stevie chuckled. “Stop asking so many questions and get your butt over here.”
“Fine, I’m on my way. I’ll have to bring Buttercup with me so I can keep an eye on him. I don’t trust him at home by himself.”
“Buy a crate,” Stevie advised as if he were an expert on dogs. “One of those small cages. A lot of people use them.”
Horace hadn’t thought of that and hoped they weren’t too expensive. He would be able to leave the house without Buttercup destroying it.
Horace took a quick shower before driving over to the O’Brien's. The place was huge, and Horace was so jealous. The brothers were talking about remodeling the inside since it looked dated. He just bet it would look fabulous when it was done.
Too bad he couldn’t help. Horace would love to roll his sleeves back and pitch in.
Before he could knock, Stevie opened the door and pulled him inside. “Come on. We don’t have much time. Quinn will be back in about two hours. He went to the pub to help with inventory.”
Stevie pulled him upstairs and into his bedroom. The crib box was on the floor, and all the parts were lined up by the bed in neat rows. Stevie grabbed the instructions and waved them at Horace.
“You know I suck at putting things together. Here, you’re in charge of reading these and telling what goes where.”
“But don’t you want to do this with Quinn?” Horace flipped through the pages. It seemed simple enough to him. He wasn’t sure why Stevie couldn’t follow them.
“You and I haven’t been hanging out much.” Stevie grabbed the packet filled with various screws and bolts. “And Quinn won’t mind.”
With a shrug, Horace settled on the floor and helped Stevie assemble the crib, all the while wondering if Keller was there. Just thinking about the tall drink of a man had Horace’s heart racing and his palms growing sweaty. But he was never lucky with love and he needed to put the doctor out of his mind.
Chapter Two
Horace was in the house. Keller could smell the male, and his panther went on the prowl. Keller kept telling himself to leave the human alone, but his beast wouldn’t listen. He closed his eyes and tried to fight the urge to find Horace, to stop this madness, but it was like trying to stop breathing.
Keller was powerless. He wanted to hear Horace’s sweet voice, wanted to look into the sparkling green eyes, and…god, the thoughts that raced through his mind of what he wanted to do to the guy.
He moved silently toward Stevie and Quinn’s bedroom, listening to Horace’s soft voice, his light laughter, and Keller couldn’t help but become fascinated with the male.
“You guys better not be planning anything for my birthday,” Horace said from inside the bedroom, unaware that Keller was just outside the door acting like a creepy stalker. “I’m getting too old for parties.”
“Dude, you’re gonna be twenty-five,” Stevie said. “You’re not exactly ready for a rocker and joint cream.”
“I’m feeling old,” Horace said.
The sadness in his voice made Keller’s heart clench. He knew how the guy felt. At the ripe age of thirty-three, Keller felt like he was the one who needed to sit in a rocker. Marcus had put him through the wringer over the past few years. Keller couldn’t recall the last time he’d laughed. A good, deep-down belly laugh.
“Will you stop letting Buttercup eat the instructions before we’re done with them?” Stevie asked. “I can’t believe you really got a dog. I didn’t even know you liked them. Didn’t you get bit by one when you were ten?”
Ah, so they had something in common. Keller forced himself not to think that way. He wasn’t looking to hook up with Horace. He wasn’t looking to find what they shared. The guy was single, gorgeous, and it was nothing more than chemistry he felt toward the human.
“Yeah, but that was a big, nasty dog,” Horace said. “Buttercup is tiny enough that I don’t fear him.”
“Any reason you’re eavesdropping?”
Keller looked to his right. How had Quinn snuck up on him? He’d been lost in the conversation. That was how. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m checking out this dated wallpaper and trying to decide what color would look nice if we painted.”
“For a guy with a brilliant brain, you suck at lying.” Quinn nudged his arm. “You’re hot for Horace, aren’t you? You can admit it to me.”
The object of Keller’s fascination appeared in the doorway, the tiny dog tuc
ked in his arms. Fuck, he really was gorgeous. Those big green eyes were stunning, and his messy dark hair had Keller’s fingers itching to comb through the soft-looking strands.
His body actually ached for the guy, which pissed Keller off. He’d just broken up with Marcus, still felt a pang of…something toward the man. He shouldn’t be lusting after another guy like this.
“What’s going on?” Horace eyed Keller, and damn if that innocent look didn’t set Keller’s blood in fire. His gut fluttered, and his cock threatened to harden as he gazed at the tiny god. Keller’s panther yowled and it took everything in him not to reach out and pull Horace into his arms.
“My brother was thinking of painting and wanted to know if you’d help him,” Quinn said.
Keller stared daggers at Quinn. The last thing he needed was to spend more time around Horace. He didn’t need the temptation.
And Horace was tempting as fuck.
“What did you want to paint?” Horace asked. Buttercup snarled at Keller, and Keller thought he would make a really good outside dog. Or better yet, someone else’s pet.
“The upstairs.”
Quinn just wouldn’t shut up. Keller needed to put a stop to this before—
“I’d be happy to help.” Horace smiled, and Keller’s resistance melted away. Fuck. Now he was stuck tearing down wallpaper and painting. He hated painting, but Horace bit his lower lip and blushed so beautifully that Keller couldn’t find it in himself to deny whatever the human wanted.
Those eyes that sparkled like gems. The hopeful look on his handsome face. Those nimble fingers that cradled the dog with care and love. That compact body that would fit so perfectly under Keller as Horace cried out his name.
“When do you want to get started?” Horace asked. “Ever since I saw the wallpaper, I’ve wanted to rip it down. How cool is it that I get to actually do it?”
“Yeah, how cool is that?” Quinn asked with humor shining in his eyes. Keller was seconds away from smacking that damn smile right off his brother’s face.
Buttercup started wiggling fiercely, and Horace lost his hold. The dog hit the floor, got up, and latched onto the hem of Keller’s pant leg, tugging and snarling until the material ripped.
“Buttercup, no!” Horace grabbed the tiny terror and tried to pull him away, but the dog wouldn’t release his hold. “Bad doggy. We don’t attack nice people.”
Keller reached down and grabbed Buttercup by the scruff and lifted him off his pants. He held the dog in the air, right in front of his face, as Buttercup barked and kept wiggling.
“I’m so sorry.” Horace pressed one of his delicate hands to his chest. “I don’t know what’s gotten into him.”
Keller knew. “He’s trying to assert his dominance around a bunch of felines.”
Quinn gave a hearty laugh. “I think the little shit is trying to mate with you.”
Keller glowered at Quinn as he handed the dog back to Horace. He had to put distance between them, to stop this crazy feeling that was filling him up and making him wish for things he shouldn’t have. Horace was off-limits and Keller needed to remind himself of that. “Maybe you should find other arrangements for him if you’re going to be here helping me.”
Horace’s face fell as he hugged the dog to him. “But he didn’t mean it. You heard Quinn. He’s just a little scrapper trying to prove himself.”
“Be that as it may, keep him at home when you come over.” Keller hadn’t meant to act like such a dick, for those rude words to escape. He wasn’t even sure where they’d come from. He was trying to put distance between them, not hurt Horace’s feelings.
Fuck. He’d been around Marcus too damn long. His boyfriend…no, his ex-boyfriend was a pompous asshole who thought he was a god because he was a brain surgeon.
Clearly the guy had rubbed off on him, and not in a sexy kind of rubbing.
“You know what?” Horace glared at Keller. “Screw you. You can find someone else to help you.”
Talk about a punch to the gut. Why did Horace’s words sting so badly? Keller watched as Horace stormed from the hallway and down the steps, regretting what had just happened.
“Damn,” Quinn said in a tight voice. “I know doctors have egos, but I didn’t know they were complete bastards. Let me know when you’ve gotten off your high horse, your majesty.”
There was disappointment in Stevie’s eyes when Keller looked at him. The two went into their room and closed the door, leaving Keller in the hallway to feel like a complete asshole.
Damn it. He didn’t want to leave things like this. If he was going to stick around Kendall, he didn’t need tension in his own home. But was he really going to stick around? Was that what he really wanted?
The part of him that missed Marcus was thinking right now. Aside from his job and broken relationship, Keller had nothing in California. He spent most of his time at the hospital, and when he wasn’t there, he was either sleeping or reading.
That made for a lonely existence. Maybe that was why he’d dealt with Marcus’s bullshit for so long, why he’d tolerated the crap his ex had thrown at him when Keller deserved so much better.
He headed down the steps and walked outside to the setting sun. Horace was already gone. Keller took a seat in one of the chairs on the front porch and recalled playing in the front yard when he was younger. The house, the town, held so many memories for him, and for the first time in a very long time, not counting his recent treatment of Horace, Keller felt at peace.
He wasn’t driving through the crowded streets, inhaling smog, buying an overpriced coffee, or dealing with Marcus’s narcissism. Keller was sitting on the porch, watching the few cars that drove by, hearing a neighbor’s dog bark, and listening to the calming sounds of the light breeze rustling the leaves.
He looked to his right when the front door opened. Layne came out with the stroller. Keller jumped up and grabbed the stroller, carrying it down the few steps.
When he set it down, he smiled at Connor, who was fast asleep. Even that young, the baby looked like an O’Brien. Keller couldn’t be prouder of his nephew or his brother for having such a handsome little fella.
Damn it. He ached so badly to have a family of his own, to find the happiness Nash and Quinn seemed to be drowning in. It was as if fate was taunting him, dangling Nash and Quinn’s relationships in front of him, reminding Keller of what was out of his reach.
“Where did Horace go?” Layne looked around. “He was supposed to go on a walk with me.”
Keller didn’t want to tell Layne that he’d acted like a damn jerk. “Maybe Stevie will want to go with you.”
It was a nice evening, plenty of sunshine, and not as humid as it had been yesterday. There were even patches of clouds to play peek-a-boo with the sun, giving them some relief from the humidity.
Layne rolled his eyes. “From the noise I heard passing their room, Stevie is occupied with his mate.”
Keller chuckled. “What about Nash?”
“He’s busy with remodeling plans for our bathroom. I loved your aunt, but the bathroom is hideous. I don’t know what she was thinking when she decorated this house.”
Keller had grown up with the wallpaper and “old lady” look all around him. As an adult, he never paid the interior much attention. But now that Layne mentioned it, Keller’s room could use a facelift. He didn’t like the paneled walls or the darkness to his room. If Keller was staying—and he wasn’t sure yet—then he wanted bright and cheery and an openness to his room so the sun could reach every corner.
Layne grabbed Keller’s hand. “Come on. You’re going on a walk with me.”
“Well, I guess I’m going on a walk with you.” Keller smiled, but he was still thinking about Horace and how he could make it up to the guy. He didn’t plan on having sex with the human, but that didn’t excuse how Keller had behaved.
“I love this town,” Layne said as he wheeled the stroller down the street. “You’re a lot older than me and my friends, so you probably don’t
remember me from back then.”
“I remember you,” Keller said. “I recall eating at your parents’ restaurant on more than one occasion. You worked there at the time.”
“And you don’t remember Stevie, Horace, or Stanton? They hung out there a lot.”
Keller shook his head. He was sure he would’ve recalled someone as gorgeous as Horace. Then again, he was eight years older than Horace. He wouldn’t have noticed someone so young.
“Well, they did hang out there a lot. Stevie grew up with alcoholic parents and an abusive dad. He hung around to escape his home life.”
Keller gnashed his teeth together at the thought of anyone laying a hand on Stevie. The guy was the sweetest.
“I know that look,” Layne said. “But Stevie’s parents won’t be bothering him again.”
Keller didn’t know what that meant and didn’t ask.
“Stanton’s parents are loaded, but they were always gone, leaving him with the help at home. So my family was irresistible to him. I didn’t mind. Stanton’s a really nice guy.”
Layne lifted the front of the stroller over uneven sidewalk and then continued on. “Horace. Now he’s the saddest of them all.”
Keller wasn’t sure he wanted to know Horace’s story. He was trying his best to keep his hands to himself around the guy. He didn’t need reasons to pursue him.
Even so…“What about Horace?”
Layne gave him a look that said he knew why Keller was interested. There had been just a little too much curiosity in his voice.
“He made the mistake of coming out to his dad when he was fifteen. His father kicked him out, and Horace was forced to live on the streets. He tried to hide that fact, but once I learned the truth and told my mom and dad, they insisted that Horace live with us.”
Keller’s stomach curdled. Why would a parent do that to their child? As an ER doctor, he’d seen things that twisted his heart and angered him. Little kids coming in with broken bones from “accidents.” Keller had known that to be a lie by the way the child acted around his mother or father. He’d also dealt with spousal abuse, drug seekers, and rape victims, to name a few.