by J. M. Dabney
Waited So Long
J.M. Dabney
Hostile Whispers Press
Copyright © 2019 by J.M. Dabney
Hostile Whispers Press, LLC
ISBN: 978-1-947184-28-2
Cover by: J.M. Dabney
Cover Image by: Golden Czermak (FuriousFotog)
Cover Model: Caylan Hughes
Edits by: AlternativEdits (Laura McNellis)
Proof Edit by: Stephanie Carrano
Cover content is for illustrative purposes only. Any person depicted on the cover is a model.
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
REMEMBER:
This book is a work of fiction. All characters, places, and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places, is purely coincidental.
PLEASE BE ADVISED:
This book contains material that is only suitable for mature readers. It may contain scenes of a sexual nature and/or violence.
For my Readers
I can’t thank everyone enough for their support in purchasing and reviewing my titles and most importantly for embracing my voices who are outside the norm.
Every Body is Worthy!
Special thanks to the people who’ve kicked my ass every time I think about giving up. Tracey, Stephanie, Meredith, Michelle, Laura and Jenn. I love my enablers and the unconditional support y’all show me.
Contents
Blurb
Prologue
1. Devon
2. Bern
3. Devon
4. Bern
5. Devon
6. Bern
7. Devon
8. Bern
9. Devon
10. Bern
11. Devon
12. Bern
13. Devon
14. Bern
Epilogue
About the Author
Also by J.M. Dabney
Blurb
What happens when your best friend’s son comes home and he’s all grown up?
Devon Hoffman has a secret. He’s wanted a Daddy all his own, but when you’re pushing fifty, you’re completely over the hill. Newly divorced and trying to be single again after an almost thirty-year relationship, he’s lost and needs someone to ground him. Except he’s anxious and his depression intensifies until Bern returns after leaving the service and the younger man suddenly takes an interest. Can he let his guard down and risk losing his best friend or should he do whatever is needed to keep his secret safe?
Prologue
Bern
2009
I held on a few seconds longer than I should have, but except for leave, this would be the last time I saw Devon Hoffman. His smaller frame fit perfectly against mine. But the moment was bittersweet. I was allowed to hold him one last time. Devon's husband cleared his throat, and I barely restrained myself from shooting the man a death glare. Lawrence had never deserved Devon. I'd known that fact for years.
In a few minutes, I'd have to walk away from him for a second time to put the distance necessary between us. I was barely more than a teenager when I'd noticed how beautiful he was when he smiled. The musical quality of his laughter. I also knew how he shut down when his husband was too close. So that was the first time I’d had to walk away, and I ran all the way across the country to UVA in Virginia.
He was married, had pledged his life to one man for the past twenty years, and I couldn't compete with that. I released him but took the opportunity to stroke my hands across his lower back to his hips. My gaze caught his for a split second.
"You be careful."
"I will." I'd joined the military at twenty-one to put myself as far from temptation as I could get and I was leaving for boot camp. The need for him had been tearing my heart out because I couldn't have him. Outwardly, I’d understood my love for him was wrong. He was older and married, but my brain still screamed at me that he was mine. I’d never done more than hug him or watch him from a distance, and I hadn’t given my inappropriate needs a voice. That didn’t mean that every night since I figured it out I didn’t live in a fantasy world where we were together.
"Take care of Dad for me?" I asked because I knew it would keep him close. I could ask my dad how he was doing and if he seemed okay. I didn't think his husband would physically harm him, but the emotional and mental abuse were just as detrimental.
"I promise. You'll be home before you know it."
I wanted to confess all the secrets I'd kept to myself. Tell Devon that he was mine and promise I could make him happy.
I was only twenty-one, but at fifteen, I'd known the older man was meant to be mine. Maybe it had been a childish fantasy of the beautiful older man. Yet, I didn't think so. I could see the toll his unhappy marriage was taking on him. He smiled less. No longer found joy in the things he loved.
Every second of the last six years, I'd studied everything about him. His likes and dislikes. The things he took the most happiness in, like the way he'd turn his face up to the sun as he tended his garden. His expression was always serene. I knew what that calmness looked like as it was destroyed by the slamming of a car door. And the way his body would deflate.
I'd bitten my tongue until it was raw. I was chunky and too tall with a baby face. People would say I was too young to know what love was, but I'd learned everything I needed by caring for him in the only ways I could.
I couldn't stay any longer. I turned my attention to my dad. His face was streaked with tears. It had just been the two of us for twenty years since my mom died. Leaving him alone pained me. I worried if he'd sleep if I wasn't there to tell him to or if he'd eat. He was lost without someone to make his life orderly. Mom had done that for him and I'd naturally taken over the role as soon as I realized what he needed.
Being a caretaker came naturally for me. I wanted the kind of love that still shined in my dad's eyes when he spoke of my mother years after we'd lost her. She'd been his everything. His center. His comfort. I craved to know even a sliver of what my parents felt for each other, but I knew it wasn't meant to be. I took one last look at Devon as I told my dad bye. Assured him I'd be fine, but he knew my trips home would be rare. He understood, and that's all I could ask, but he said he'd visit as much as possible.
I released my dad and picked up my bag and turned away. I refused to look back. Hoping the separation and the span of a country—maybe an ocean—would cure me of my unrequited love.
2018
I read the email repeatedly for the last ten minutes focusing on a single sentence in the short message. I'd just rolled from the bed and told the man there it was time for him to go. My phone signaled that I had an email, so I checked it. I was concerned for a moment as my dad only sent me an email once a week with a rundown of his and Devon's week. The subject line had important typed out in all capitals.
The man behind me pressed his lips to my back.
"I said it was time to go."
I barely heard him call me an asshole, and I didn't care about his opinion. I'd picked him up in a bar, and I couldn't even remember his name. To be honest, I hadn't given a damn. I'd just wanted to get off and now that it was over with, I had no interest in a repeat.
Nothing had changed in the years of separation I'd put between myself and Devon. I still dreamed of him and worried every day if he was okay. If he was being loved on or neglected, but I knew everything. Dad kept me up-to-date. The last few years, Dad suspected that Lawrence had been fucking around. He’d left Devon alone for trips a
nd dinners with so-called friends. Devon had meals and spent more time with my dad than he did with his husband.
Lawrence asked for a divorce.
My heart sped in my chest. My boy was free. My boy could be mine.
The door of my apartment slammed, and I relaxed. I knew I wasn't in a relationship with Devon, but I still felt guiltier with every man I fucked. They were always a poor substitute for the one I needed. Months morphed into years, and with every year, I’d lost the tenuous hold on my hope he’d one day be free.
I started planning as I stood up and headed for the bathroom, then I sat my phone beside the sink. The man looking back at me wasn't the one who’d left. I had another year on my contract. I'd need to put in my papers saying I didn't want re-up for another tour.
I was older and harder. While I was happy with my choices, the years in the military had me starting to feel the weight of the expectations. The role I played to keep myself away from Devon.
I washed my face and cleaned myself up, wanting to rid myself of the stranger’s scent. Then picked up my phone and called my dad.
"I knew you'd call as soon as you got it."
His voice didn't hold an ounce of judgment. We'd always promised to be honest with each other, and I'd confessed my feelings to him about Devon the day I experienced the first wave of the crush. Crush—that word lacked the intensity of what I’d felt. Obsession turned to love, then to heartbreak when I had to tell him goodbye.
"What happened?"
"Devon is kind of a mess. He just said Lawrence came home with the papers. Claimed he didn't want to be married anymore. Devon is lost at the moment. He's forty-seven, and after close to thirty years, you think you're in it for life."
"Is he staying with you?"
"No, Lawrence got an apartment and moved out a few days ago. I didn't know anything until Devon showed up tonight. I don’t think it really hit him until Lawrence didn’t come back. I put him in your old room to sleep here tonight. I knew that would satisfy your possessive nature."
For the first time in a long while, a true smile tugged at the corners of my mouth. I loved that Dad got it.
"I'm coming home, but it'll take a bit. You'll take care of him until I get there?"
"I've been taking care of him for you for a long time. A bit longer isn't going to hurt anything. You just do what you have to do. He's going to need some time to process before a bossy younger man makes his intentions known."
I agreed. I was his best friend's son. That wasn't going to be something easily accepted, especially after his long marriage ended. I'd tried not to hope too much, as time passed, I realized how small that spark of optimism had dimmed until I’d resigned myself to unhappiness in settling for a man who’d never completely take Devon’s place.
"Just get home safe, and I'll make sure he's okay until you can take over."
"Thanks, Dad. I love you."
We spoke a few more minutes as Dad caught me up with his life and how he was doing. We said goodbye, and I disconnected the call. Everything I needed to do was playing through my head, but more than that, I was wondering what Devon would think about his soon-to-be Daddy coming home?
1
Devon
2019
My chest tightened as the panic took over, and I popped another pill to bring myself from the edge before I tipped over into the scary abyss of my newfound anxiety. Only six months had passed since the ink had dried on the divorce papers ending my twenty-year marriage, but we’d been together for nearly thirty years. He was my one and only. I’d met him in my senior year of high school and had visited colleges. I’d met him at a club and hadn’t come out yet. The excitement of my first boy kiss had clouded my judgment. I’d gone home with him that night. It wasn’t an enjoyable first time, but I’d figured as firsts went, it wasn’t terrible. We’d started seeing each other when I could sneak up for weekends and then I’d moved there for college.
It all had seemed like a fairy tale at the beginning. But as years lapsed, I felt the weight of what I’d done. I might not have liked it, yet my parents told me relationships take work. Slowly I came to realize that all the work in the world wouldn’t make my once loving husband want me again. My gut told me he’d gone outside our marriage for sex. I hadn’t minded, I’d had my secrets too.
In moments of weakness, I’d tried to analyze what I’d done wrong—if I could’ve done something different? If the sex had turned too routine? A week ago, I’d walked into what had been our favorite restaurant and found him dining with someone else.
The man was close to our age, and from their body language, there was nothing friendly about it. I’d almost left without getting my food in case he’d noticed me and my dinner for one. I didn’t know why it bothered me so much. Yes, I’d noticed we’d started to grow apart but wasn’t that how it was with most couples who’d been together decades—it was natural. Lawrence was always the outgoing one, gym five mornings a week, and wanting to be out every weekend. I was the homebody partner. Dinner at home and curling up on the couch to cuddle.
While I missed my marriage, it was more about the companionship that I no longer had. Our sex life hadn’t satisfied me. I was embarrassed about my fantasies and had refused to ask for what I wanted. And I was too old to be some Daddy’s boy. I wanted someone to love and protect me, guide and ground me. I wanted to be owned by someone.
“Dev, are you okay?”
I lifted my head to find my best friend, Murray, peeking out the back door to where I was seated at the patio table. His presence reminded me of why I was there. Bernard, or Bern as he was known, was coming home. I hadn’t seen him in six years as he’d joined the Marines right out of college. I always seemed to be away on business when he’d come home on leave. I remembered he’d been a sweet-natured boy, always tall for his age and chunky. Because of my traveling schedule, I hadn’t spent a lot of time around him, but Lawrence had always said Bern was a weird kid. Said he was rude, but I’d always found him to be super polite. Always ready to help me with yard work or random chores Lawrence had claimed he didn’t have time to do.
“Yeah, is he here yet?”
“Just pulled in. Come on.”
I chuckled at my best friend’s excitement. Murray had been a single dad since his wife had passed away from cancer when Bern was only a year old. Murray had been friends with my ex, and I was just glad I got to keep him in the divorce. All the other friends Lawrence and I shared went with him. I pushed to my feet and made my way inside, losing sight of him as he disappeared out the front door. When I stepped outside, I froze at the scene playing out. A massive brute had Murray off his feet and hugging the life out of him. That couldn’t be Bern.
Then Murray was back on his feet, and I was the recipient of a huge smile. I almost backed up when he came toward me, but I receive a hug from the muscular man, just not one as manly as Murray got.
“Devon, Dad didn’t say you were going to be here.” That voice was guttural like gravel abrading together. Almost frightening. Where the hell was the boy I’d known?
I didn’t know what the hell to do. “Welcome home. Murray called me yesterday and said you were home.”
“Finally. Dammit, Dad, I got it.”
Bern ran off to pick up the bags Murray was struggling to carry. He easily hefted them from the older man, and he was headed in my direction. He stopped a few feet from me. “Go on.” He smirked at me as he did this gentlemanly bow and sweeping his arm to motion me inside.
I took the steps still in shock. Bern wasn’t the cute, chubby kid I remember when I went to his college graduation. He was muscles on top of muscles, and gritty, dangerous voice. I was feeling a lot older than I did ten minutes earlier. He had a beard for fuck’s sake. Pills or not, I needed a drink.
“Quit fussing around. I’m home for good, so you can worry about me in a few days.”
Murray was a bit anxious all the time. Quick to lose himself when he became overwhelmed. It hadn’t been that way when Bern’s mo
ther was alive. She’d always been able to get him to focus and calm him. Bern had taken over that job when he’d gotten old enough to realize his dad was a bit spacey. Murray and I were both a mess. It was no wonder we remained friends.
Instead of the drink I wanted, I grabbed a bottle of water and leaned back against the counter. I smiled as the younger man got his dad settled with a beer and then grabbed one for himself. Murray suddenly had a sereneness around him. Bern favored his mother. The same ginger curls and blue eyes. I remember she was constantly smiling. Even at her lowest, she’d held it together for Murray and Bern. She’d lived longer than the doctors had said she would. I’d been in awe of her. I think the only thing that kept him going after she died was he had Bern—the mini version of her.
Instead of feeling left out as they spoke in whispers on the other side of the island, I was relaxed and enjoying my friend having his son back. Emails, letters, and video calls weren’t enough. I was happy Bern was home and had put Murray’s mind at ease.
“I better make dinner.”
When Murray tried to stand up, Bern pushed him back down onto the stool and wrapped his arm around his dad. “Dad, you just sit and relax. Have your beer. Unless you want dinner, in that case, I’ll make it.”
“You just got home, son.”
“Ain’t got shit to do with it. You want me to make dinner? Devon, you hungry?”
Those bright blue eyes focused on me, and I felt exposed under his intense stare. I wondered if I’d doubled my anxiety meds because something was off with me today.