Lord of a Thousand Steps: An Age-gap, Sexy Babysitter, Single-dad MM Romance (Love in Laguna Book 4)

by Tara Lain

  “Your boyfriend’s a lucky guy. How’s he doing, by the way?”

  Try to talk over the pulse hammering in your ears. “I just heard from him tonight, as a matter of fact.” It felt good to be able to say that. “He said it was sad there, and he’s glad I don’t have to go through it.”

  “I’ll bet you wish you were there with him.”

  Ian nodded. “That’s exactly what I wish.” And I wish Rico knew it too.

  Braden’s smile seemed kind of sad.

  Ian carried his teacup to the sink. “So are you going on another date?” He shoved every ounce of enthusiasm he could muster into that question.

  “I agreed to, yeah.” Braden’s eyes flashed a lost puppy look. “But do you think it’s a good idea?”

  Some perverse part of his brain screamed Hell no! “Hey, sure. Dating may suck, but it’s a stepping-stone toward something more meaningful. Don’t give up yet. You just got started.” He laughed.

  “Hey, Dad.” Jo-Jo stood in the entry to the kitchen, hair sticking up and the imprint of the couch cushion on his face.

  Braden gave him a big smile. “I hear you got drugged on frozen yogurt.”

  “Yeah. And Ian taught me some CAD stuff you never told me about.”

  “Ian knows many things about which I’m totally ignorant.” He raised the eyebrow that seemed to unite the family, and Ian laughed.

  Ian walked toward the kitchen door. “I guess I better see if there’s any chance of prying Anderson away from his new life partner and taking him home.” But then, Anderson wasn’t the only Carney who didn’t feel much like leaving the Lord house.

  Ian disappeared out the front door with his protesting mountain lion over his shoulder. Braden laughed.

  From behind him, Jo-Jo said, “He’s a great guy. He helped me with the CAD, and he’s really good with Mir. As babysitters go, he’s not bad.”

  Braden walked into the living room and sat on the sectional, flipping on the TV. The tea had made him kind of drowsy, but no time like the present to talk with Jo-Jo—if he was up for it. The TV added teenage smoke screen. Let’s both pretend this isn’t a serious talk. He chose a late-night talk show, designed to not fascinate either of them. “Want some more yogurt?”

  “Nah. I’m pretty full.”

  “So what did you learn from Ian? On the CAD, I mean.”

  “I showed him I could do a floor plan, so we worked on stairs, railings, and some on columns.”

  “That’s great.”

  “Yeah. He said he’s always wanted to be an architect. He goes to USC.”

  “So I’ve heard.”

  “His brother and, uh, the guy he’s engaged to send Ian to school.”

  “Yep. Heard that too.”

  “He’s gay.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “His family threw him out.”

  “It happens more than you’d think.”

  “Well, I think it’s crap.” Jo-Jo wiped a hand over his head.

  “I agree.”

  “Is that why you never came out? Would you have been thrown out?”

  Wham! Just like that. Out on the table. Braden leaned back on the couch. They both stared at the TV like it hosted the second coming. “I’ve got to confess, I never gave them a chance to react one way or another.”

  “Why? Were you scared?”

  “In a way. I guess I didn’t want to be gay. It was even tougher when I was a kid, and my friends said nasty things about gay guys. I wanted to believe I was straight. I married your mom, had you, and that set my life on a course.”

  Jo-Jo turned and faced him for the first time. “But how can you have two kids and be gay?” It came out like a wail.

  “Man, that’s a good question.” How the fuck do I answer it? Shit, dive in. “Do you get a lot of erections?”

  “Dad!”

  “Come on. You asked me an important personal question. I want to answer truthfully. Let’s try it. Do you?”

  “Yeah.” He stared at his hands.

  “Are there always girls around, or somebody you think is sexy, when you get hard?”

  “No.” Braden barely heard that answer it was so soft.

  “Right. It’s a normal part of male physiology. For young guys, even more so. When I helped create you, I was twenty-one. Ian’s age. It didn’t take a lot to make me hard or make me, uh, ejaculate.”

  “So, you’re saying Mom didn’t turn you on, but you could still have sex.” Jo-Jo paused. “What about Mireille?”

  Whew. Tougher one. “That involved a lot of alcohol.”

  He frowned. “You got drunk?”

  “That’s right. Not because your mom isn’t beautiful or desirable. She is.” Maybe stretching the truth a bit. “But I just wasn’t turned on by girls. If I hadn’t been trying so hard to lie to myself, I would have saved everyone a lot of grief.” He turned and looked directly at Jo-Jo. “But then I wouldn’t have had you and Mireille. That would be worse than all the years of lying. I hurt your mom. I hurt me. I might even have hurt you. But to not have you at all? That wouldn’t be a life I’d want to live.”

  “Oh shit, Dad.” Jo-Jo hurled himself at Braden, who scooped him up. They both pretended not to cry for several minutes.

  Braden hugged him tight. “I’m going to try to make this whole divorce as painless for you and Mireille as I can.”

  Jo-Jo pulled back and nodded but didn’t meet his eyes.

  Braden sighed real quietly. “Tough having a gay father. I get it.”

  Jo-Jo shrugged. But sadly, that shrug conveyed a world of hurt.

  Ian lay on the couch, staring at the television, with fifteen pounds of pissed-off feline sitting on his chest. “Get over yourself. You want to go live with Mireille?”

  Go study.

  Don’t feel like it.

  What the fuck is wrong with you?

  The front door opened, and Jim and Ken piled in, laughing and gazing at each other like sex couldn’t be too far in their future. Shit, why did that make him feel worse?

  Jim peered in the living room. “Hey, you two. What’s up?”

  “Nothing. Watching baseball.”

  “What the fuck? You hate baseball.”

  “Yep. That’s why I’m not paying much attention.” He laughed.

  They headed down the hall toward their bedroom, but Ken said something in a low voice that included the name Rico. A few minutes later, they both came to the living room and sat in chairs, since he and Fuzzface hogged the couch. Ian petted Anderson. “How was the visit with Mama-san?”

  Ken laughed. “She’s got over three hundred and fifty people lined up for this shindig.”

  Jim leaned back, propped his bare feet over the arm of the chair, and rubbed a hand across his hard chest, straining the long-sleeved T-shirt. “We’re having the gay wedding of the season.”

  “Of the century.” Ken batted Jim’s foot, then started rubbing it. Jim moaned.

  Ian smiled, but it felt odd. Tight. “At least she’s really happy for you guys.”

  “What’s wrong, Ian?” Ken cocked his handsome head. “You seem sad. No word from Rico?”

  “No. I heard from him yesterday. Really nice message. I guess things are tough there. He didn’t say anything about when he’d be home.”

  “I know you really miss him.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Is that all that’s wrong? I mean, that’s plenty. Hell, he’s been gone a long time.”

  Was it? “You know, a funny thing happened yesterday. I took Anderson to the beach.”

  “What?” Jim slapped his leg, and Anderson jumped but didn’t leave Ian’s chest.

  “I know, but he just seemed to want to go. Anyway, I ran into Braden Lord at Thousand Steps.”

  “That’s a name that seems to be cropping up a lot.” Jim gave Ken a significant look.

  “Sort of, but he owns that beautiful house on the cliff above the beach. You know, the one Ken loves?”

  “Wow.”

  “Yeah. I shoul
d have guessed. It’s totally his aesthetic. But anyway, he had his kids—a little girl who fell in love with Anderson, and the feeling was mutual. He also has a teenage son. I ended up babysitting the kids last night.”

  Jim threw his feet to the ground and stared at Ian. “Holy shit, we leave you for one day, and you’re the babysitter for your hot boss? This is starting to sound like the plot for a porno.”

  Ian snorted. As if. He swung his legs over the edge of the couch. Anderson rode him like he was in a logrolling contest until he came to sit on Ian’s lap. “Actually, I feel—weird. The kid—the teenage boy—asked me if his dad is gay.”

  “That’s awkward.”

  “I tried to answer as best I could, and I warned Braden that he needs to talk to Jo-Jo, but after I left—it’s like my brain switched.”

  Ken smiled softly. “How, dear?”

  “I remembered how I felt when Dad threw me out, and that I couldn’t imagine how he could feel betrayed by a person he supposedly loved over something I couldn’t help. I mean, it was inconceivable.” He took a deep breath, staring into space. “But then when I talked to Jo-Jo, I suddenly realized how hard it would be to have your father suddenly declare he’s gay. The kid said to me, ‘How can he be gay when he has two kids?’”

  Ian shook his head. Jim and Ken just sat quietly, like they wanted to hear, so he kept on. “I don’t know how I’d have felt if my dad suddenly came out when I was fourteen, but I don’t think I’d have liked it. And I’m gay! Somehow, it kind of makes your life a lie or something. Like you weren’t born out of love like the sex ed books all tell you.”

  Ken nodded. “You’ve thought about this a lot.”

  “Most of the night. I feel so bad for Jo-Jo, and my heart breaks for Braden.” He leaped to his feet, and Anderson flew through the air like a furry Flash. “Then I got pissed. Who the fuck said people get to tell you you’re less or not okay if you’re gay? That your kids should be ashamed or, worse, that you should be ashamed so you have to hide and lie? Fuck, I want to hit somebody. I want to shake the homophobes until they get that they’re not even nice people, and yet they feel they have the right to tell me I’m inferior. I want to go beat on church doors and scream ‘Where do you come off swallowing some two-thousand-year-old crap that was invented to get people to have more children and use it to hammer a whole community of human beings to dust?’” He slammed a hand against the wall—which hurt more than he wanted to admit. “Who the fuck are these people?”

  Jim and Ken got up and wrapped Ian’s shivering body in their arms. “Yes, dear. That’s the question.”

  Chapter Seven

  “Hey, Carney.”

  Ian looked up at Max, who leaned around the edge of his cubicle. “Hey. Need me?”

  “You working on the parking structure for Woodley?”

  “Yes. I’ve descended to the third level of parking plan hell.” He grinned.

  “That’s what you get for being so good at it.”

  “Don’t encourage me to fail.”

  “I’ll have a more exciting project for you soon, promise.”

  “Deal.”

  “So you must have a new fan.”

  “Always welcome. Who?”

  “Our new client, Audrey Romign.”

  “Oh yeah. Nice lady.”

  “She’s having this big fund-raising event for women’s entrepreneurship in Africa or something. Anyway, along with Braden, Doug, Shirin, me, and a couple of others on her team, she’s invited you.”

  “Me?” He didn’t know whether to smile or frown. “Why me?”

  “She specifically requested your presence. Mine is not to reason why.”

  “Fuck. Excuse me, I mean, when is the event?”

  “Thursday night. Black tie, baby.”

  “Will anyone notice if a black tie is all I wear?”

  Max laughed. “It might come up.”

  “Thank you. I think.”

  Max walked away, and Ian pushed back his chair. What the hell? He’d certainly liked Audrey when he met her at Antonio’s, but why would she do this? Don’t complain. It’s gotta be good for the career. Need to share.

  He grabbed his phone and texted.

  Just got invited to attend a client’s black tie event! Any chance you’ll be home by Thursday? Miss you awful. Love you.

  He hit Send and leaned in to conquer his parking places. Where can I get a tux? Ken will know.

  His phone buzzed and his heart leaped. Rico!

  Dad very bad. Things crappy. Have fun.

  Well, hell, he hadn’t meant to slap Rico’s face in his frivolity. He wiped a hand over his neck. Why did they feel so far apart? Three years they’d been together. Rico had nursed Ian through the whiplash of being disowned by his father. I just want to return the favor. I want to help. Be there. Hell, I thought we were in this together.

  “Hey, Ian.”

  He dragged his eyes away from the phone screen. Ted Miller, one of the other gay guys in the office, leaned in. Interesting. Ted was an architect—a favorite of Doug Kendrick—who seldom deigned to talk to a mere intern. “Yeah? Hi.”

  “Heard you’re going to Audrey Romign’s fund-raiser.”

  “Jesus. You must have known before me, because I heard it about three minutes ago.”

  Ted cracked a smile. “Good news travels fast.”

  “Okay.” What the hell did he want? Ian’s eyes flicked back to his phone.

  A crease popped between Ted’s eyebrows, then vanished. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to interrupt.”

  “No, it’s okay. What’s up? Have a parking structure you need calced?” He delivered his best snarky grin.

  Ted grinned back. “I just wondered if you want a date to the fund-raiser?”

  What the—? Ted had never given him a second glance—until Ian suddenly raised his profile with the clients. “I’m hoping my boyfriend might be back from Mexico City by then.” Not exactly a lie. He did hope Rico’d be back, even if it wouldn’t happen. “But thanks. I’m sure there are other guys you can ask.”

  “Uh, no, I—”

  Ah-ha, so Ted didn’t get invited to the fund-raiser and is wangling an entrée. Asshole. Ian just smiled sweetly and let him flounder.

  “Well, if your guy doesn’t show up and you want company, just let me know.”

  “Oh, thanks. I will.” He smiled beatifically as Ted scurried away, then let it fade to a frown. Maybe this fund-raiser didn’t sound like so much fun after all.

  Braden stared at his shaking hands.

  His lawyer’s voice cut glass. “Mr. Lord has given Mrs. Lord everything the law demands and a great deal more. He’s also assured that they both have equally accommodating environments for the children. Joint custody is appropriate and expected.”

  Taylor’s lawyer, a woman named Franklin who made Gloria Allred look like a Maltipoo snacking on bonbons, cut in. “Quite the contrary. You can’t expect a judge—an Orange County judge—to award joint custody of a teenage boy to a single gay man. Imagine the influence.” The witch knew that except for Laguna, the infamous OC gave Texas a run for its money in conservatism.

  Braden forced his voice to stay even. “I’ve raised Joseph for fourteen years, and he’s none the worse for it.”

  Percy, aka Percival Ashkenaz, slipped a hand on Braden’s leg to shut him up, but the opposition pounced.

  “And who knows how much damage has been done, even with his mother’s balancing influence? You know a court will see our point of view.”

  Taylor Lord smiled tightly along with her lawyer. Man, she looked bad. Glassy-eyed, pasty skin. For a woman who spent all her time taking care of herself, she seemed to be neglecting her pet project. Could she really be upset?

  Braden’s hands clenched and unclenched. Fifteen years. He’d been married to her for fifteen years. If a person could die of stupidity, he’d have been under the ground for a decade.

  Percy’s voice remained steady, but the snarl rumbled beneath the surface. “If Mrs. Lord is so d
esperate to have full custody of Mireille and Joseph, why are we talking? We’ll simply go to court, and if your assumptions are correct, she’ll receive everything she wants.”

  Braden sucked in breath, but Percy’s hand tightened on his leg. Taylor’s eyes widened just a fraction. Right. The bitch didn’t want the kids.

  Ms. Franklin smiled. “With the current division of property, my client faces the prospect of having to return to work at some time after devoting the best years of her youth to her children.”

  Braden raised an eyebrow. “Return? When did Taylor work?”

  “Motherhood is considered a job, Mr. Lord.”

  “Is that the kind of work she’s planning to return to?”

  Taylor slapped the table. “You asshole! You’ll never get those kids!”

  “As if you want them!” The grip on his leg had to be causing bruises.

  Taylor literally wiped spit from the corner of her mouth. The legal reporter recording their meeting looked at her, startled.

  Franklin raised a hand. “We know feelings run high where children are concerned, but let’s maintain civility.”

  Percy gave a tight smile. “Mr. Lord has divided all the family assets and given Mrs. Lord two-thirds of them. She has the house she wanted, the car she says she needs, and a generous monthly income.”

  “You said ‘given,’ Mr. Ashkenaz. Mr. Lord hasn’t given her anything. This is a community property state.” Franklin licked lipstick off her teeth.

  “Of course, but he has given her one-half of his own share of the family assets as a gift. A gift for which he’ll have to pay taxes, I might add. So in that case, given is an appropriate word.”

  “Yes, but it’s well-known that Mr. Lord’s primary asset is his business.”

  Ah yes, finally the heart of the matter.

  Percy cocked his head. “And it’s also well-known that Lord and Kendrick is a public corporation in which Mr. Lord owns stock. He’s already accounted for the value of that stock in the report of assets.”

  “A value we question.”

  “Mr. Lord has no authority to encumber the corporation with any demands of Mrs. Lord’s. He owns a certain percentage of stock. That stock has a market value.”