"I'm sure my cousin won't mind. Her parents are rolling in dough—what's one more guest out of a list of hundreds?"
Jamie had accepted, until he recalled he was signed up for Saturday morning lab work on a critical experiment that couldn't be put off. If Tuck waited for him, they'd arrive too late.
"It's okay,” Tuck had assured him. “I'm sure there'll be plenty of other boring family obligations for us to go to together."
Jamie smiled warmly at the recollection of that conversation. Tuck's easy assurance and all it implied of a real relationship between them, something lasting, something he wasn't afraid to share with the world, made Jamie feel warm and happy.
He glanced at the clock. He needed to get his ass out of bed and to the lab. After that few hours work, though, he'd have the whole weekend to himself. Maybe it was a good thing he hadn't been able to go to the wedding. Maybe some time apart would give them both perspective.
They'd spent nearly every night together in the two months they'd been home. Though Tuck had stopped bringing up Brendan, Jamie knew he was still on his mind. In fact, only two nights before, Tuck had been calling for him in his sleep. Jamie had shaken him, trying to wake him without startling him. Tuck had bolted upright, crying out, “Brendan, watch out!"
Jamie took him into his arms to soothe him. “He was being buried alive in an avalanche and I couldn't get to him. It was horrible.” Tuck's voice cracked. “I miss him, Jamie. I miss him so much."
Jamie missed Brendan too, though he remained angry with him for abandoning them the way he had. He tried to understand what it must be like to be so uncomfortable with your sexuality that you denied it, not only to those who loved you, but to yourself.
Jamie was lucky in that regard. He'd never had hang-ups about being gay. Sure, there had been guys, especially in high school, who tried to pick on him for being what he was. Maybe because of the support he'd received at home from parents who never judged him and were always supportive, he'd found the confidence to stand up to the bullies. It didn't hurt that, even in high school, he was nearly six feet tall and naturally muscular and athletic.
He didn't like to fight, but he'd done it when he'd had to, enough to establish that he wasn't someone to be messed with. The worst it got was in eleventh grade, when Randall Clements had left a note on his locker, telling him to meet him behind the bleachers. He'd gone, tired of the constant veiled threats and attempted intimidations by Clements and his two sidekicks, whose names he no longer recalled.
As he'd expected, they'd all three been there. “Oh, look, the faggot is here. Probably hopes we'll butt fuck him. Drop your pants, faggot. I've brought a broom.” The asshole had actually waved a broom in his direction, his piggy eyes glittering with malice. The sidekicks sniggered. Jamie saw red.
"Touch me, motherfucker.” Jamie kept his voice calm but resolute. “And you'll regret it."
Clements laughed, signaling to his pals to stand ready, real brave, three against one. Clements was bigger than he, but slower. When the bully moved to take a swing, Jamie feinted to the side and punched him hard, his knuckles cracking bone when his fist collided with Clements’ jaw. As Clements reeled, Jamie punched him again, this time three hard blows to his gut, to make sure when he went down, he stayed down.
When he turned around to deal with the others, he saw them running away across the field. So much for standing by their friend. After that he'd had no more trouble, even when he brought a guy to the senior prom.
It must really suck for Brendan, he thought, to be so uncomfortable with what and who you are. Brendan, who had kissed him with such tender, sensual passion it had taken his breath away. Brendan, who had held him tight in his arms while Tuck took him from behind, his heart beating a hundred miles a minute against Jamie's own.
Yes. He missed him too.
What a shame he'd shut them off, and himself as well. What a waste. Love was so rare, how could he turn his back in the face of it?
Maybe he would go talk some sense into him.
He rolled from the bed and went to his bureau to get some underwear for after his shower. He felt the crackle of paper and pulled out the wadded-up sheet he'd found in front of the porch the week before and, for some reason, had saved, though he hadn't let Tuck know he had it.
In Tuck's loopy, angular hand the words Brendan Aaronson had been scrawled over and over on the page, like a schoolgirl mooning over her first crush. At first Jamie had been hurt by this evidence of Tuck's continued longing. But he understood it. Tuck and Brendan had had something even before Jamie had come onto the scene. Watching the two of them together, it was obvious Tuck was in love with Brendan. And, deny it as he would, Brendan had been in love with Tuck as well.
Was Jamie lucky Brendan had run away? Would he have lost Tuck to Brendan if he'd stuck around? He sat again on the bed, recalling the sweet, hot intensity that had been shared between the three of them.
While he loved what was developing between Tuck and himself now, he had to admit it would be even hotter if Brendan were there to explore it with them. If only it hadn't ended so abruptly.
It was a strange thing to wish for, when back then they'd felt desperate to be rescued, but if only they'd had one more day. With one more day, they could have seduced Brendan completely, he was sure of it.
What would it have been like to watch Tuck take the virgin Brendan, while Jamie sucked his cock? Or would Brendan have been the one to press his thick, hard shaft into Jamie while Tuck lay beneath them, eagerly gobbling Jamie's cock?
Jamie shivered at the delicious possibilities. He could visualize those two built, sexy men having their way with him, filling every orifice, fucking him every which way to Sunday until he collapsed with pleasure and exhaustion.
And whatever else Brendan was or wasn't, he was easily the best looking of the three, with his sunny blond good looks, that movie star smile and those amazing green eyes that turned to gray when he was concentrating.
Jamie loved the contrast between the two men—dark, seductive Tuck with the flashing white teeth and brooding eyes, and sunny blond Brendan with that wide, engaging smile that completely disarmed Jamie each time it was bestowed upon him.
There were so many delightful variations possible when two became three. And what had been so special between the three of them was the love thrown into the mix. Yes, he would admit it. It was love, however fleeting, however contrived because of the desperate situation in which they found themselves.
He had fallen quickly and fallen hard for both men, and losing Brendan so soon after having found him had been bad enough for him. It must have been exponentially worse for Tuck, who had carried a flame for him ever since their meeting the summer before.
Damn it, what the hell was wrong with Brendan? He didn't have the right to just opt out. To wash his hands of them and deny his feelings. At least he could have explained himself better, instead of offering some lame cock-and-bull story about love in the trenches or whatever the fuck he had spouted to Tuck.
Maybe he would drive up to Seattle, talk face-to-face with Brendan and demand an answer, the real answer about why he'd run away.
He would be done in the lab by noon at the latest. After that he had nothing but time. He checked on the Internet for the best route from Carmel to Seattle. Whoa—fourteen hours. He thought a moment and shrugged. He'd make better time than that on his Harley, he was sure.
He wouldn't tell Tuck he was going. Plenty of time to tell him later.
And he wouldn't tell Brendan he was coming. Why give him a chance to prepare his excuses, or worse, to refuse to see him? No, he'd just show up on his doorstep.
What would he say when he got there?
He had no idea.
He'd play it by ear.
* * * *
Hugging the motorcycle's body between his thighs, Jamie flexed his leather-gloved hands, trying to keep them from cramping. He'd been gripping the bars for hours, flying up the highway toward Seattle, the wind in his face, the s
un beating down.
With the sun's setting, the air had turned cool, too cool for a thin leather jacket and jeans. Not to mention, after seven hours on the bike, every muscle in Jamie's body screamed for a break.
What had he been thinking? No way was he going to reach Brendan's at a decent hour. While he'd definitely made good time, especially once he'd made it onto I-5 North, he was still a good four-hundred-fifty miles away from Seattle. Better to find a cheap motel, get some rest and head out first thing.
Thus he found himself in the parking lot of a stucco two-story building painted a bright flamingo pink with a neon sign advertising vacancies in glowing orange. He parked his bike and made his way into the brightly lit lobby. He asked for a room for the night, thinking he'd grab something to eat at the diner located next door.
"You just passing through?” The woman behind the counter was young, maybe early twenties, with lank blonde hair and too much makeup on a pretty if uninteresting face.
"Yeah. Trip's taking a little longer than I was hoping."
"That your motorcycle out there?” She handed him the keycard to his room, her fingers brushing his as she fixed him with a limpid gaze. “I just love motorcycles. They're just so ... masculine. I don't know, virile. You know what I mean?"
Jamie withdrew his hand from beneath hers and smiled, shaking his head. “Yeah. I know what you mean.” He pocketed the key and his wallet and turned from the counter, eager to nip whatever ideas the girl was getting in the bud. “Well, have a good night."
"I get off my shift in fifteen minutes. Maybe you could take me for a ride. We could go out for a drink or something.” She blinked rapidly at him in a way he knew was meant to be seductive and pressed her arms against the sides of her small breasts in an effort to create cleavage.
He was used to women hitting on him, and usually he handled himself with more finesse, but he was hungry and too bone-weary to behave with his usual tact. “I would, but my boyfriend is super jealous and if he found out, he'd beat the crap out of me,” Jamie lied, suppressing a grin. “So I'll have to pass, sorry."
The girl's eyes widened, her mouth falling open as she took in the implication of his words. Her arms fell to her sides and she stepped back from the counter as if he'd struck her. “I—I see,” she stammered. “Well, have a good night and welcome to Medford."
The room wasn't bad. At least it was clean. He sat on the slippery polyester bedspread and pulled out his cell phone, punching in the speed dial for Tuck. It went to voice mail, Tuck's low sexy voice suggesting he leave a message. He was probably at the reception by now, toasting the happiness of his cousin.
"Hey, Tuck. Jamie here. Just wanted to say good night. Let you know I'm thinking about you. No need to call back. We'll connect in the morning. Love you."
Love you. He'd never actually said the complete sentence—I love you. Nor had Tuck. Yet they ended phone conversations with those two words, a sort of substitute for goodbye.
I do love him, though. Next time I see him face-to-face, I'm going to tell him so.
His tummy rumbled, reminding him he hadn't eaten since the beef jerky he'd bought at the gas station some four hours before. After washing his face and running his fingers through his hair, he left the motel room, heading toward the diner and a meal for one.
* * * *
Jamie fumbled with his cell phone. “Yeah?"
"Jamie? Hey, were you sleeping? I'm sorry. I had left my cell phone back in the room so I missed your call earlier."
"Tuck. Hey. That's okay. What time is it?” Jamie sat up against the uncomfortable headboard in his motel room. It was dark outside, the orange glow of the neon sign from outside his window blinking against one wall.
"It's midnight. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have called so late. I just missed you."
"Yeah?” Jamie adjusted the pillows beneath his head and slid back down. “Cool. Was the wedding fun?"
"Fun?” Tuck laughed. “No, it was fucking endless. The groom is a Greek Orthodox something or other and the service lasted over two hours. I thought I was going to keel over from the boredom. I kept looking around at all the people, most of whom had the same glazed expression. I imagined the whole congregation, on cue, all slumping over to one side and sliding down onto the floor."
Jamie offered a rueful grin. “I wish I could have been there to prop you up. Was the reception good at least?"
"Yeah. It was great. The food was fantastic, the bar was open and there were even a few hotties I had my eye on."
"Male or female?” Despite their light tones, Jamie couldn't help feeling a jolt of jealousy.
"Both. That's the advantage of playing both sides of the fence.” Tuck laughed. “Hey, I'm just teasing you, babe. No one there held a candle to you, I promise."
"So you're settled for the night? How's your room?"
"Oh, it's fine. Sophie reserved three entire floors of the hotel for guests and got a great rate. I just wish you were here with me. Or better yet, that I was back in your cozy cottage by the sea."
Jamie didn't respond right away. He toyed with the idea of telling Tuck he was actually somewhere in Oregon, on his way to see Brendan. But he didn't want Tuck to try to talk him out of it, so he remained silent. He would do this on his own. Instead he said, “So, you miss me, huh?"
"I do. I've been thinking. When I get back, I'm going to try out those nipple clamps I've been threatening you with. What do you think of that?"
Jamie shivered and touched his chest, his nipples perking to attention. Tuck had a knack of saying things that gave him an instant erection. “Jesus, Tuck. I was asleep and now look what you've done to me. I'm harder than a rock.” He lifted the sheet, staring down at his erection.
"I wish I could look. Save that cock for me, okay? I miss it. I miss you."
"I miss you too, Tuck. A lot.” It was true. “Tuck, I...” Again he almost confided where he was and what he was doing. Was he making a mistake? Should he let sleeping dogs lie, let Brendan fade away from their lives? Well, whatever he was doing, there was no turning back now. He was more than halfway there. He would see this thing through, however it played out.
"Yeah?"
"Nothing. Love you."
"Love you."
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Chapter Fifteen
Brendan squinted in the early morning light slanting into the bedroom window. He was naked, on his stomach, the covers twisted around his legs, his arm hanging over the side of the bed.
The doorbell was ringing, that's what that sound was that had awoken him. It was followed a moment later by a loud knocking. Brendan looked at the clock by his bed. It was seven o'clock on a Sunday morning, for crying out loud. Who in God's name was banging on his door at this hour?
He pulled himself up and grabbed the jeans he'd dropped on the floor beside the bed the night before, not bothering with underwear. As he weaved unsteadily toward the living room, his mind raced over what emergency might be awaiting him at his front door.
His parents had retired to Arizona and both his sisters lived in Southern California. If something had happened to any of them, he'd be getting a phone call, not a personal summons via a fist on the door. If something was wrong at the lab, again, he would have been called. So who the hell was out there? Surely not Lynn. Her style was more subtle, icy rage, not banging and bell ringing.
Brendan had spent a second lonely night experimenting with the dildo and drinking himself numb. His head was aching and he didn't feel ready to face whatever was on the other side of that door.
He peered out the peephole. He froze, his heart constricting, his breath catching. Jamie Hunter stood there, real as life. He was wearing a soft brown leather jacket over a white T-shirt, a helmet cradled beneath his arm. His face was sunburned, making his blue eyes even more brilliant than usual. He jabbed the bell several times in succession and lifted his hand to rap at the door. Brendan pulled it open.
Jamie dropped his hand and took a step back, as if surprised som
eone had actually opened the door at last. “Brendan. Hi."
"Jamie.” Brendan pulled the door open and stepped back. “It's seven in the morning. Is everything okay?” The sudden horrible realization everything might not be okay hit Brendan like a ton of bricks. He nearly reeled with the thought. “Oh my God,” he breathed. “Tuck...?"
"Tuck's fine.” Jamie's tone was brusque. He moved past him into the room. “He doesn't know I'm here."
Brendan realized too late he'd left the bottle of scotch and empty glass on the coffee table, evidence of his lonely night. Thank God at least he'd removed the dildo to the bathroom sink and thrown out the packaging it had come in.
"You, uh, you drove here? All the way from Monterey?"
"I came on my bike, yeah. Stopped in Oregon overnight. I couldn't sleep so I headed out this morning again around two."
Brendan still didn't get it. He wasn't fully awake, for one thing, his head still fogged with sleep and the aftereffects of too much booze the night before. Jamie turned to him, his hands on his hips, his tone at once apologetic and defensive. “Look, I'm sorry I just came bursting in here at this hour. I had to see you. I couldn't wait another second."
"Me? You had to see me?"
"Yeah. We have some stuff we need to talk about. That and I—I missed you.” He moved closer. Brendan stepped back and Jamie scowled.
Silently Brendan cursed himself. Aloud he said, “Uh, you want some coffee or something? I'm not really awake yet."
"Sure. Yeah. That'd be good.” Jamie followed him into the kitchen, where Brendan busied himself with the coffeemaker while he tried to figure out what the hell was going on.
He set mugs, sugar and cream on the table and gestured for Jamie to sit. “I just need to use the bathroom and get dressed. Help yourself to the coffee when it's done. I'll be right out."
He hurried to his bedroom, still not completely processing who was in the other room. Jamie Hunter. Jamie. Over the last two nights he'd shed tears, trying to come to terms with the fact he'd never see this sexy, handsome guy again, forcing himself to admit he'd closed the doors on something amazing between the three of them because of his own cowardice.
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