by Tara Lain
“Sometimes it’s just about having too much money and privilege before they know what to do with it. My dad was, I mean is, really well-off, and I went to fancy schools and shit too.”
“You turned out good.”
“Thanks. I had a lot to hide, so I never got cocky. I didn’t really come out until I was eighteen. I didn’t date girls, but people just thought I was too busy with all my architecture stuff. They didn’t know I was sneaking off and making out with guys.”
“What’s that like?”
He chuckled. “Probably a lot like making out with girls, but hairier.”
Jo-Jo snorted. “Yuck. Yeah, I’m definitely straight.”
“That’s the thing. If you’re straight by birth, then you’re kind of turned off by gay stuff. Which is fine, except when people decide because they don’t do it, it must be unnatural, and start piling their shit on us. And there are a lot more straight people.”
“That’s got to be hard.” He rested his head back against the couch.
“Yeah, it can be. It can make gay people hide, even from themselves.”
“Like Dad.”
“Yep.”
Jo-Jo sighed, and his eyes drifted closed.
“Hey, fella. Before you fall asleep and test my ability to carry you to bed, want to give up and head for your room?”
“Yeah. Tired.” He dragged himself up and started toward the hallway, then turned. “Thanks a lot.”
“My pleasure. On all counts.”
He waved, yawned, and was gone. Ten minutes later, Ian looked in on him. He’d managed to make it under the covers. Whether any teeth got brushed—another story. Ian quietly closed the door.
Kind of tired too. Should I call Braden?
No. Everything’s cool.
Chapter Nineteen
“Daddyyyyyyy!”
The shriek brought Ian straight to sitting. Where the hell—oh, right.
He slid out of the guest bed and grabbed his T-shirt. If he was staying, he had to go home for clothes.
Pulling it on, he stepped into the hall. Whimpers and cries came from the room at the end. Mireille! He threw open the door and rushed in. She thrashed about in her covers, eyes still closed.
“Mireille.” He gently touched her shoulder. “Hey, sweetie, it’s Ian. What’s wrong?”
Her lashes fluttered. “Don’t feel good.”
Shit. “Tell me how you feel.”
“Cold. Throat hurts.”
“Don’t worry. You probably caught what the babysitter had.” He pulled the covers tight around her neck. “You stay here and I’ll get you some water, okay?”
“Umm-hm. Ian, when is Daddy coming home?”
“Not too long, sweetie. And I’m here, so don’t worry.” He rushed to Braden’s bathroom and searched the drawers, catapulting off Braden’s lube stash and noting a general lack of condoms. Finally a thermometer appeared, and some aspirin. Was that okay to give to kids? Shit! He grabbed the supplies and hurried to Mireille’s bedroom, glancing at the bedside clock in Braden’s room. Five a.m.
Sorry, Ken. He dialed his house. One, two, three rings.
“Hullo.” Sleepy Ken.
“Hi, it’s me. So sorry, but Mireille seems to have caught the flu from the damned babysitter. I’ve got some aspirin and a thermometer.”
“Give her lukewarm water, take her temp, and I’ll be right there.”
“Thanks, man.” He hung up and did as he was told. Temperature, 102 degrees. Crap, wasn’t that really high?
Okay, time to fess up. He left Mireille sipping water through a straw and grabbed his cell phone. No answer from Hong Kong. What the hell time was it there, anyway? He tried to keep his voice from shaking as he left a message. “Hi. It’s Ian. I was trying not to bother you, but the kids’ babysitter took sick, and I came over to stay with them. Unfortunately, Mireille caught what the sitter had. I think it’s the flu. I have Ken on his way over, so don’t worry. But I thought you should know.”
“Ian.”
“Okay, bye.” He clicked off and rushed back into Mireille’s room.
“My tummy hurts. And my head.”
He sat on the edge of the bed and put a hand on her forehead. “Don’t worry. Do you remember my brother Ken?”
“You mean your brother’s husband. The pretty one?”
“Yes, that’s the one. Well, guess what? He’s a doctor, and he’s coming right now to see you.”
“That’s good.”
“Yes. Close your eyes and rest until he gets here, okay?” He pulled the covers over her, and she snuggled in but made little whimpering noises that ripped his heart out.
The doorbell rang. “Be right back.”
He blasted out to the entry and let Ken and Jim in. “Thanks, you guys.”
Jim looked around. “Holy crap, what a great house.”
Ken said, “How did you get here?”
“When the babysitter got sick, Jo-Jo had the presence of mind to call me.”
“Where’s his mother?”
Ian rolled his eyes. “Another whole story for another time. Come see Mireille. Her temp is 102. Isn’t that high?”
“Kids’ temperatures get high really easily. I brought some acetaminophen. It’s better for a child that age than aspirin. I also brought some homeopathic stuff that works great in some people.”
Ian led him down the hall, with Jim following. At the door, Ken turned. “Better stay out here, love. No use you getting it too.”
Ken went straight to Mireille, who smiled listlessly. He gave her the pills. “Are you hungry?”
“Maybe a little.”
Ken looked at Ian. “We brought some chicken stock and vegetable soup from the pantry in case you don’t have any.”
“Must confess, we went shopping yesterday, but those items didn’t make it onto our list. I’ll go start some soup for her.”
“Hey, you guys.” Jo-Jo appeared in the doorway. “What’s going on? Sorry to tell you, but I don’t feel so good.”
Shit and hellfire.
Braden pressed the accelerator and hoped the Laguna police were deeply distracted. When he’d gotten Ian’s message, he’d panicked, rushed to the airport, and sat there on standby for almost twenty-four hours. Finally, he’d gotten a flight. Ian assured him Mireille was okay and that Jo-Jo just had a light case. Thank God for Ken.
He accelerated through the yellow light at the medical center and raced down PCH. Finally, he turned into the driveway. Ian’s car sat there. No other vehicles. I guess that’s good.
Leaving his bag in the car, he ran to the house, keyed his way inside—and stopped. Mireille lay at one end of the sectional, covered in multiple blankets, with a large white furry extra blanket beside her. Only her moving right hand, scratching under Anderson’s chin, signaled she was awake. Jo-Jo lay at the other end with his own tower of blankets, clearly sound asleep.
Braden closed the door softly and stepped farther into the living room. Ian dragged out of the kitchen with a tray containing a bowl of something steaming and a large glass of water. He saw Braden, gasped, and the tray wobbled, but he managed to get it to the coffee table.
“Hi. Sorry I had to disturb your trip. Everything’s pretty good now. I think, anyway.”
Shit, the guy looked worse than Braden felt. He stepped over and put an arm around Ian’s lean, broad shoulders. “You’re amazing. How can I ever thank you?”
“It was my pl-pleasure.” And he passed out.
His eyes fluttered. Why am I awake? Feel like crap warmed over. He shivered and reached for the covers to pull them tighter. No go. Wouldn’t move. He raised his head and spied the long body stretched out beside him, on top of said covers, snoring softly. Braden. Safe. Oh yes, safe. He closed his eyes and slept.
Braden wiped a hand over his son’s hair. “Why on earth did you think to call Ian? I mean, it was a great idea, but what made you think of it?”
Jo-Jo looked uncomfortable. “I, uh, knew Mom was busy, so I tried to thi
nk of who Mireille would like. Some random sitter Regina could find wasn’t going to cut it, Dad. Hell, Mireille barely tolerates Regina. I figured Ian was the best bet. I called your office, told them I had a message for Ian from you, and they believed me. They gave me his cell, so I used it.”
“That was resourceful and responsible, Jo. Great thinking.”
“I guess we about killed the poor guy.”
Braden smiled. “He’s not used to being a dad. He didn’t have to walk floors with you two for days on end. Plus, that flu bug is really contagious.”
“Glad Ken was around.”
“Yeah. I guess it’s handy to have a doctor in the family.”
Jo pushed away the last of his soup, and Braden set it aside. Jo-Jo curled under the covers and closed his eyes. “But it was Ian who really took care of us.”
Braden wiped a hand across his cheeks.
Braden sat on the couch, an arm slung over his eyes, trying to stay awake. Between jet lag and trying to care for three sick people, he hadn’t really slept in two days, not counting his night at the airport. Still, Ian’d had the worst of it, when the kids were really sick. Now, only Ian was still shivering and barfing. Mireille looked a little pink in the cheeks, and Jo-Jo practically qualified as his usual self—just sleeping more and eating less.
The soft knock brought his head up. He rose and opened the front door for Ken. Man, what would they all have done without him? Braden smiled. “Hi. They’re all sleeping.”
They walked into the living room. Braden flopped on the couch, and Ken took the chair opposite. “Is Ian’s temperature lower?”
“Yes, practically back to normal.”
“Good. He’s on the mend. He’ll feel like crap for a couple more days, but the worst is over for all of them. Are you sure you don’t want me to take him home?”
“No. No point in exposing Jim. I have to be here with the kids anyway. I don’t mind taking care of Ian. Hell, he saved the day for this family.”
“Yes. Ian’s all about family.”
Braden wiped a hand over his face. “I noticed. Everyone always thinks he had all these brothers and sisters, he’s so good with kids.”
“I think it’s because he didn’t have much of a family that he longs for one so much.”
“He’s a great guy.”
“Yes, he is.”
Braden looked up into Ken’s level gaze. “I’d never want to hurt him. I know I’ve flailed around some, but I want the best for Ian.”
“I believe that. Knowing what’s best is the hard part.”
He leaned back against the couch cushion. Suddenly, everything felt too exhausting to bear. “I expect it doesn’t have much to do with a thirty-six-year-old man with two kids, an ugly divorce, and a world of hang-ups about being gay.”
Ken smiled. “Braden, Jim and I are getting married in a week in a far too grand wedding ceremony planned by my controlling Japanese mother for three hundred plus guests, most of whom Jim and I barely know or don’t know at all.”
Braden barked a laugh.
Ken leaned forward. “Would you and your children come?”
Braden cocked his head. What did this gracious gesture mean? “We’d be honored. Assuming they’re all well, of course.” He smiled. “May I ask why you’d want us to come?”
“First, you’re Ian’s friend, and you’ve done a lot for him. He’s very special to us. And also because both your kids were so interested in the fact that Jim and I are getting married. I thought it might be—” He shrugged. “—educational.”
Braden nodded. Maybe educational for all of us. “Thank you for thinking of it. How about we come to the wedding, but I wouldn’t want to further strain the guest list at the reception.”
Ken laughed. “Are you kidding? My mother’s saved every dime of her extremely penurious life to buy this wedding. She’d be mortified if you felt unwelcome. Please come.”
“In that case, we’d be delighted.” Maybe I’ll discover why he really wants me there.
Ken rose. “How about we make it a surprise? Don’t tell Ian.”
Curiouser and curiouser. “Sure.” He smiled. “But you may have to bring Anderson.”
Ian sat on the edge of his bed and pulled on his dark socks under his tuxedo trousers. Dressed up again. He took a deep breath. That flu sure took it out of him. Well, the flu and a lot of other shit.
“How are you feeling?” Jim stood in his doorway, looking big, hunky, and handsome in a black silk tuxedo mandated by Mama-san.
“Good—or at least good enough. I’m really excited about standing up for you, bro. Honored, really.”
Jim gave him that low-key Carney smile. “Who’d have guessed when you sat outside my ratty apartment with a dirty kitten in your jacket that you’d make the biggest difference in my life? Only Ken has had a greater impact—and truthfully, it’s a toss-up.”
“Heck no.” But it sure made him smile that Jim thought so.
“Heck yeah. You pulled me out of the gutter and gave me excitement, hope, and confidence. Enough confidence to believe I might actually be interesting to a world-shaper like Ken. Thanks, Ian. From the bottom of my heart. There’s no one else who could ever stand beside me as I wait to marry the guy I love.”
Ian sprang up and grabbed Jim in a big hug. The world spun, and he sat back down hard. “Sorry, got up too fast.”
“Hey, are you okay? Should we postpone this shindig?”
Ian laughed. “Right. I think stopping D-Day might have been easier. No really, I’m fine. Still a little shaky, but Ken pronounced me one hundred percent noncommunicable, so that’s all that matters. I wouldn’t miss this for anything. You two are my family. Seeing you happy is, like, the world to me.”
Jim shook his head. “How did a rat bastard like our father produce such a great kid?” He laughed and ran a hand through Ian’s hair.
“Hey, I spent hours on that do.”
Jim stared at Ian’s hair and laughed. “Yeah. I’ll be ready in five. Ken has to go separately, since his mother insists we can’t see each other before the wedding—if you don’t count the last three years.” Chuckling, he ambled away.
When Ian walked out of the bedroom, Jim handed him a glass of thick, frothy green liquid. “A present from Ken. He says it’ll make you strong.”
“If it doesn’t kill me first.” Ian took the glass tentatively and sipped with great suspicion. “Hey, it’s not bad.” He swallowed a mouthful. “What’s in it?”
“Secrets known only to gorgeous doctors.”
“I’ll have to find me one of those.” He took another swig.
“How are you feeling about the whole Rico thing?”
He sighed. “So much has happened, I haven’t focused on it. That’s probably good.”
“Did you love him? Or maybe I should say, do you?”
Ian leaned against the counter and finished his smoothie. “I don’t know, Jim. I see you and Ken together and I see real love. I’m not sure I ever had that with Rico, exactly. I loved the idea of him a lot. Moving in together, creating a family, having friends we shared, pets, you know.”
“That anxious to get rid of us, huh?” Jim grinned.
“Oh no. I don’t mean that. I love living here with you and Ken.”
Jim took Ian’s empty glass. “I know. And I understand about wanting a family of your own. It’ll come in time.”
“You promise?”
“Absolutely.” He glanced at his watch. “We better go before I get a frantic call from Mama-san.” He started toward the door and Ian followed.
Funny that he never asked how Ian felt about getting thrown over by Braden Lord.
Chapter Twenty
The valet took Jim’s car, and Ian followed him into the hotel where the wedding would be held, followed by the reception. A flow of people, many of them Asian, entered around them, and all seemed to be headed in the same direction. Since it was afternoon, Jim and Ian stood out in their formalwear and got smiles and glances from the g
uests.
As they approached the ballroom, Mrs. Tanaka, aka Mama-san, bustled forward, decked out in beautiful rose-colored lace for the mother-of-the-groom. One of the grooms. Jim and Ian hadn’t seen their mother in years—not that she’d ever won any Good Housekeeping awards for parenting.
Mrs. Tanaka clapped her hands. “So handsome. So handsome. Both of you.” She took Jim and Ian’s hands and led them to a small anteroom beside the large chamber where the ceremony was to take place. Ian had missed the rehearsal—Ken pronouncing he had to save his energy—but as long as he followed Jim and didn’t drop the rings, he was golden.
Inside the room, Mrs. Tanaka turned to Jim. “How are you feeling?”
He smiled down at the tiny woman. “I’m really excited, Mama-san. Ken and I are honored that you would do this for us.” He bowed solemnly.
She waved a hand. “It is nothing. Only a trifle. A really good mother would do much more for her boys.”
“Oh no, Ken and I know that we are the envy of the entire community, and after today everyone will know that we have the finest, most loving mother in the world.”
Ian grinned. Ken was polite and affectionate to his mother, but no one played the game like Jim. All those years of reading yaoi comics had trained him. Mrs. T. obviously burst with pride at his flattery, not because she was gullible, but because she knew he genuinely loved her. She glowed. “You are the second-finest son a mother could have.”
“I am deeply honored, Mama-san.” He bowed again.
“So you know when to come in?”
“Oh yes, and I’ll make sure Ian understands all his responsibilities as best man.”
“Excellent. We are very proud of you also, Ian.”
Ian bent at the waist. “Thank you, Mrs. Tanaka.”
“And when are you going to find a young man and settle down like Ken and Jim?”
Jim laughed. “Give him time, Mama-san. He must finish school and get an excellent job first.”
“Yes, I know he will.” She beamed at Ian and fanned her face with her hand. “I’m so excited. I’ll see you after the ceremony.” Before he could blink, she was out the door.