by Tara Lain
Braden pressed his back against the wall and let his knees give out. He wound up on his ass on the floor. In fourteen years, Jo-Jo had never said that before.
“Come on, you like Ian. Is it so bad that I like him too?”
“You can’t fuck my friends!”
Sweet Jesus.
He leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes. “Jo, he’s my friend. My—” What could he say? “Please, just open the door and let’s talk. We’ve always been able to talk things through. Come on, Jo.”
Silence.
Braden closed his eyes and drifted. “Jo, open up and let’s talk.”
“Fuck off.” The voice sounded muffled and dripped with tears.
“Jo, please, I don’t want to hurt you—”
From what sounded like far off, the front door opened. “Joseph? Where are you?”
No, dammit. Braden pushed himself up.
Jo-Jo’s door flew open and Jo ran straight down the hall. “Mom!”
Braden made it to the living room in time to see Taylor ushering Jo out the front door. “We’ll get Mireille in the morning.” She looked up at Braden and smiled. Cold, gleeful, and glassy-eyed.
Braden stepped forward. “Taylor, you’re on something. You can’t drive.”
“It’s none of your fucking business, but I had a couple of drinks since I thought the kids were safe with you. As if. So Elena’s driving.”
“Daddy, what’s happening?”
Mireille stood behind him, hanging onto her Frozen doll.
Taylor swooped down on her. “Come on, baby. We’re going home tonight.”
“Don’t wanna.”
“I said, we’re going. Now come on.” Taylor pulled her arm and Mireille followed, though she looked back at Braden like he damned well should have done something.
A great truth.
Taylor glanced at Braden as she left with her spoils of war. “I’ll see you in court.”
Ian sat on the couch, sipping coffee and petting Anderson. Stroke. Stroke. That silky fur kept him from flying apart into a million pieces. All his recriminations of the night before had turned into a dull gray fog. Gotta go to work. Don’t want to.
“Hey, bro, what up?” Jim emerged from the back of the house, wearing only his sweatpants, muscular chest stretching as he yawned. He looked happy and satisfied, which made Ian want to smile, if he could have forced it out. Jim shuffled into the kitchen and emerged with a mug. “We missed you last night. Everything okay?”
“I came home late. I was at Braden’s.” He stared at his coffee.
Ken’s voice made him look up. “At Braden’s? Okay, sounds like some progress got made.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean he’s a good man who cares about you, and it was time he admitted it and you two stopped pretending to be fuck buddies.”
For a second, Ian just stared at Ken. Then he dropped his face into the hand that had been petting Anderson.
Jim scooted beside him and took the coffee mug from his hand before wrapping an arm around his neck. “Uh-oh, looks like something went to shit.”
Ian raised his head. “I’m the shit.”
“What happened?”
“I couldn’t keep it in my pants and sneaked into Braden’s the last two nights.”
Ken frowned. “He didn’t know about it?”
Ian sighed. “No, he knew, but I kind of pushed. Anyway, Jo-Jo caught us kissing and freaked the hell out.”
Ken sat on his other side. “He’s an adolescent. They’re weird about sex. They want it but hate thinking their parents ever had any.”
“Shaz says Jo-Jo has a guy crush on me.”
“Very possible.”
“Hell, I spend as much time playing with him as I do with Braden.” He shook his head. “You know what I mean.”
“Yeah. But he’ll get over it. He needs some time to settle down and think of you in a new way.”
Ian flopped back against the couch. “Sadly, it’s more complicated than that. Braden’s in a fight for custody of those kids. He says the judge will likely ask the kids who they want to live with.” He slid an arm over his eyes. “Shit. Why was I such a self-centered idiot?”
Jim pulled his arm away. “Come on, bro, this isn’t all on you. Obviously Braden wanted you there, and he knew the consequences.”
“But I’m the experienced one in the relationship. I should have been more responsible.”
Both Jim and Ken burst out laughing at the same time.
Ian frowned. “What?”
Jim patted his knee. “Baby brother, you’re a piece of work, and any guy would be lucky to get you.”
Ian fought the heat behind his eyes. “That sure as fuck has not been my recent experience.”
Braden hunkered down in his office chair with the phone pressed to his ear.
Percy’s voice sounded tight. “So Taylor’s lawyer is practically dancing, she’s so excited. What the fuck happened, Braden?”
“Jo-Jo caught me kissing, uh, my boyfriend.”
“Boyfriend? Since when?”
“It’s kind of new.”
“Bad timing, but you do get to have a life. Joseph knows you’re gay, right?”
Braden sighed. “Yeah, but he thinks of this guy as his friend, and I think he was just shocked to discover he was my, uh, romantic interest.”
“His friend?”
“They play video games together.” Jesus, he wanted to crawl under the fucking desk.
“How old is this guy?”
“Twenty-one.” Braden wiped a hand over his hair.
“Jesus, Braden.”
“I know.” He took a breath. “But I like this man, Percy. I like him a lot, and I don’t give a fuck how it looks.” Or at least he wished he didn’t care. He hit Send on his e-mail. “I’ve got this photograph I just sent you. I don’t know how to use it or even if we should, but for what it’s worth.”
“Oh, okay.” Pause. “Holy shit! How did you get this?”
“Actually, the same guy I was kissing last night took it.”
“What? He’s a private dick? A paparazzi?”
“No. It’s a long story, but when I went to Hong Kong, the kids wound up with a babysitter because Taylor took off at the last minute. She told the kids she was going away. Anyway, the babysitter got sick and Jo-Jo called Ian—that’s my guy—to come and stay with them. He went to Taylor’s with Jo to pick up something he forgot. They both thought the house would be empty. Instead, while Jo was upstairs, Ian heard a noise and saw this.”
“Jo-Jo called this guy to take care of them?”
“Yes. I told you he thinks of him as a friend.”
“This is damned confusing. Anyway, I don’t know what we’ll do with this photo. It’s not as if she asked the kids to watch, and just like you, she gets to have a life—even a pretty kinky one.”
“The scary part is I think she’s on drugs. Ian said he thought he saw drugs on the table, and last night when she came to get the kids, she looked high.”
“That’s a different matter.”
“I can’t prove it.”
Percy was silent for a minute. “Maybe we won’t have to prove it.”
“You want to explain that or remain inscrutable?”
“Inscrutable for now. Okay, so tomorrow at ten we show up at the judge’s office.”
“Will this ruling be final?”
“Nothing’s ever final with kids, but it’s important.”
“Shit. I’m nervous.”
“Don’t worry. See you then.”
Don’t worry. Right.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Ian focused on the renderings for the Romign building, guarding against every stray thought that tried to intrude.
“Hey, Ian, you okay?” Ted leaned in the doorway, looking worried. Nice that he cared.
“Yeah, thanks. I got really sick after getting exposed to the flu. I just recovered. Missed a few days’ work.”
“Glad you’re okay. Wa
nt to do lunch?”
Did he? “No thanks, Ted. I’m going to try to catch up. Is everything okay on your project?”
“Yep, going great. We used some of your ideas. I tried to pass them off as mine, but Shirin’s a smart lady. Anyway, the client is happy so far.” Ted laughed, and Ian joined in. “I guess I’ll be seeing you?”
“I’ll be here.” He stared back at his screen and heard the footsteps receding. Ted had turned out to be nicer than he’d thought, but he felt too raw right now for phony smiles.
A couple of minutes later, another tap sounded on his cubicle wall. “Yeah, Ted, what—” He stopped. Braden stood there looking serious and delicious.
“Can I talk to you, please, Ian?”
“Uh, sure.” He waited.
“In my office, please.” Braden didn’t wait for a reply. He took off, leaving Ian staring after him. Guess you can do that when you’re the boss.
He sucked in a breath—and sucked it up. His brain fried and sent him shaky messages on all the shit he wanted to say. Walking down those halls felt like some combination of instant and eternal. He stepped into Braden’s office.
“Close the door, please.”
He did.
“Sit.”
Direction followed. Connection between brain and mouth—zero.
Braden perched on the end of his desk and leaned forward. “I’m not leaving you.”
“What?” He leaped to his feet and stared like some spaced-out marmoset at Braden.
“I don’t care what happens, I care about you, and I won’t leave you. I know I’m an old man to you, and I’ve got more baggage than a Saudi Arabian prince. I make a crappy prospect, but I’m in. I want to give this thing a little air. A chance.”
“What happened?” Ian plopped back in the chair.
“When?”
“After I left.”
“Jo-Jo called his mother, who picked up both the kids.”
“Shit.”
“Is that all you have to say about my well-rehearsed speech?”
Ian sighed, and Braden frowned. Ian said, “You may be the old man in this relationship, but I’m the gay professional. I need to be responsible and realistic.”
Braden snorted, and Ian flashed him a look. Bray shrugged. “Sorry. I thought gay men were romantic.”
“If me being in your life threatens your custody battle, we’re toast. You know that. I’d never blame you for choosing your children over me, but it’s a fact.”
“That’s not going to happen.”
“Even if it doesn’t, Bray, if Jo-Jo can’t forgive me—or you—it will strain the hell out of any relationship we have. On top of that, you’re a gay newbie. Maybe I look good to you now. Hell, sex is compelling. But what about when you start getting hit on by your actual peers—handsome, accomplished gay men who want to be with you? I’m going to start looking like a callow kid with more in common with your son than with you. I’m going to look like your babysitter.” As the words came out of his mouth, they rang with truth.
“That won’t happen either.” Braden stared at his shoes.
“I’m deeply honored that you want to give us a try.” He forced a smile. “I really like you. I love having sex with you. I enjoy your company, and I adore your kids. I want to leap up and throw my arms around your neck and never let go.” He wiped at his eyes. “But one inch deeper and leaving you will wreck me. I think we need to wait and see. See what happens in court. See what happens with Jo-Jo.”
“And in the meanwhile?”
“We work together. Stay friends—I hope.”
“You going to go back to dating Ted?” Braden’s Adam’s apple bobbed.
“No. After they’ve seen Paree, as the old saying goes.” He smiled.
“I really like that idea about throwing your arms around my neck and not letting go.” Braden’s turn to run a hand over his eyes.
“I like it too.” Ian swallowed hard.
“My hearing is tomorrow.”
“Wow. So soon?”
He nodded.
“So we won’t have too long to wait—before we know something, I mean.”
Braden smiled. “It feels like long.”
“Yeah. It sure does.”
Their eyes met and clung. God, he’d never wanted to kiss someone so badly. If everything went to crap the next day, he might not get to kiss Braden again—ever. That hurt almost too much to stand.
Ian extended his hand. Braden took it and held on as if for dear life.
Ian finally squeezed out the words. “So I’ll go back to work on Romign.” They never unclasped hands.
“Okay.” His thumb caressed the soft webbing between Ian’s fingers.
“I’ll have it for you by close of day.”
“Okay.” Braden licked his lips, and Ian whimpered.
“See you.” Finally, by some force of will, Ian pulled his hand away and walked to the door of the office.
One glance back at that beautiful face, and then he opened the door. It flew out of his hand, and Doug Kendrick pushed past him. He thrust the door closed, but it stood ajar. Doug’s voice echoed down the hall. “Braden, you know these glass walls give no privacy. What the hell was that little emotive display with Carney that entertained the entire office all about?”
If half the office heard Doug, the next couple of buildings probably heard Braden. “Doug, fuck off!”
Braden paced the hall of the courthouse outside the judge’s chambers. Percy had gone in ages ago. Why the hell did he have to stay out here? He glanced down the hall and saw Taylor sitting on a bench next to Elena. At least she wasn’t inside. Man, Taylor looked wasted.
He forced himself to sit. Crap, everything depended on whatever was happening in that room.
The door opened, and Braden leaped up. A door from the other end of the chamber also opened, and Taylor’s lawyer stuck her head out. Braden looked at Percy for some sign. Neutral. “Fuck, tell me something.”
“The judge will explain. Come on in.”
He walked into the big, paneled room that was so much the movie cliché of a judge’s office, it actually worked. The slim, balding man sitting at the head of the large oak table reviewing notes must be the Right Honorable Judge Mason McCracken—the guy who held Braden’s life in his hands. A woman with a laptop sat next to him. Percy led Braden to a chair at the table, and they both sat.
Quiet except for the clicking sound of the laptop keys. Suddenly Taylor’s voice shrieked through the door, “What the fuck?” The judge looked up and motioned the woman toward the door. She got up, walked to the connecting door to the next room, opened it, and announced, “The judge is ready for you.”
Desperate whispering came from next door, and then Taylor walked in with her lawyer. Now she looked both glassy-eyed and red-faced—a disturbing combination.
Judge McCracken pushed away his notes. “I’ve reviewed the facts of this case. I know that both parents are asking for custody of the children, and that both are claiming the other parent to be unfit for full custodial responsibility.”
Taylor snapped, “Fuck you.”
“If you’ll reserve your comments for another time and place, Mrs. Lord, that will be appreciated.”
The lawyer, Franklin, leaped in. “Our apologies, sir. My client is simply astonished that her husband would claim she’s unfit after raising her children for so many years. She wonders how a gay man would really know who’s fit. Especially one who flaunts his indiscretions in front of his children.”
Braden tightened his hands into fists. Here it comes.
The judge waved his hand. “Yes, yes, I know all about that. As you’re aware, I’ve spoken with Joseph and Mireille.”
Braden looked up. “You did?”
“Yes. That’s quite common in custody cases, especially when one child is as old as fourteen.” He smiled. “And the other is as precocious as Mireille.”
He wanted to slide to the floor and weep. If he’d waited a week, a month, to start taking
chances with seeing Ian, maybe he wouldn’t have lost the opportunity to have Jo-Jo say good things about his life with Braden. Like Ian said, they’d blown it out of pure selfishness. He wiped a hand over his neck.
The judge folded his hands on the table. “I had an interesting conversation with both children. Mireille is a loving child who said good things about both her parents.”
Taylor smiled and leaned back in her chair.
“She has a special affection for her father, and also seems very devoted to a friend named Mr. Carney and his cat.”
Tears flashed to Braden’s eyes, and he blinked.
“This relationship appears to have a great stabilizing influence in Mireille’s life. Apparently, this man’s care has given her a greater sense of safety.”
Braden stared at Percy, who smiled.
“Now, as for Joseph.”
Braden took a breath while Taylor grinned.
“He admits to being extremely angry with his father in the recent past, apparently also involving Mr. Carney. An unfortunate moment of public affection really confused and upset him.” The judge sighed. “What parent hasn’t had those experiences? Fortunately, Joseph is a levelheaded boy. He realized that his anger was misplaced. He admits that he values Mr. Carney’s friendship and would rather see him as a partner to his father than anyone else he knows.”
“What the hell?” Taylor jumped up and was pulled down by Franklin.
“Both Joseph and Mireille have expressed a preference for being with their father.”
Taylor hissed, “You did this, you asshole.”
The judge gave her a narrow-eyed look. “In light of this preference, as well as other evidence which has come to light, along with the relative abilities of the two parents to provide for the children, I’ve awarded full custody of Joseph and Mireille to Braden Lord. Visitation rights by Mrs. Lord will be only under supervision until it’s clear to this court that she is not under the influence of drugs or other intoxicants that could place the children in danger.”
Taylor’s mouth worked, but nothing came out. Her lawyer clutched her arm. Yanking hard, Taylor leaped to her feet again. “You won’t get away with this. You’ll give me everything I’m entitled to. Fifteen years of being married to a fag! I should have it all.”