Chapter 22
THREE WEEKS after Regan’s birthday, a cold snap left Oz very glad that there was usually a warm body to curl up with on his couch and in his bed. Jax was becoming a bit more comfortable around the girls and had almost taken over packing lunches on school nights when he stayed over. He could crank out a sandwich to exacting requirements—peanut butter all the way to the edge and extra jelly—in no time.
Oz leaned forward and grabbed the remote as soon as the credits rolled on the movie Jax had brought for them to watch after the girls were asleep.
“I know the production values aren’t great, but what did you think of it?” Jax’s excitement suggested the answer he was hoping for.
Oz didn’t hate the movie, but he’d thought it was trying a little too hard to be funny and dark, to the point where logic had been thrown out the window. “Didn’t I laugh at the right parts?”
Jax gave that half smile and a look over the glasses he’d reluctantly gotten for long-distance viewing when Oz kept noticing him squinting. “Yeah. I know it’s not perfect, but it was practically his student film. I love this director. Hanson Rede. I really hope I get to work with him again. He even cowrote the screenplay.”
“I like his sense of humor.”
“But?”
“But I grabbed the remote because I thought of a better way to spend a Saturday night.”
Jax bounced off the couch like he’d been shocked. “Thought you’d never ask.”
“I need to ask?”
“It’s your house. Bedtime is kind of….” Jax trailed off as Oz stared at him. “What?”
Oz couldn’t explain it, except in those three words that seemed to make Jax uncomfortable. “I hope you know you’re more than a guest now.”
“Uh—yeah, I know—”
“Is there something you don’t like about the word boyfriend?”
“No. Of course not.” Jax headed up the stairs.
Oz waited until they were in the hall before asking softly, “Jax, have you ever had one?”
“In college. And a couple years after, I was dating this other actor—he was closeted too.”
They looked in on Regan, and then Ayla. Oz went in to redistribute the covers she had flung around and then put one of his grandmother’s afghans over the foot of the bed in case she wanted it.
“I think you’re wearing her down,” Oz said as they went into the bedroom. “There’s a reduction in sighs and glares.”
“Conlon charm is ultimately irresistible.”
“It is.” Oz pulled the covers back and started undressing.
Jax pulled on pajama pants. Oz had told him a robe would be fine, that the girls could live if they saw him shirtless, but he insisted on a T-shirt and pajamas. Oz would see how long the bottoms stayed on tonight.
“Hey,” Jax said as Oz wrapped him in a hug. “I can’t believe I forgot to tell you this. You know how I had to go out to California to go to a meeting with some suits?”
Suits was Jax’s word for anyone involved in the business end of the entertainment industry. Oz had heard him use another expression once, noncreative parasites, but that seemed to be for special occasions.
From Jax’s tone, he thought the news was good. Oz hoped it didn’t mean a job that would keep him in California. Before that latest overnight trip, Jax had mentioned placing his LA house on the market. Oz stared down at the gray of Jax’s T-shirt to avoid looking in his eyes. Could he do this again? Jax wasn’t Joaquín, he’d proven that in a million small ways, but Oz didn’t know if he could go down the Gotta Go Where the Work Is Road again. Even if he could, he didn’t think he could put the girls through it.
“The producer of Family Daze has been working with KIDZNet to do a reboot of the show. Some original cast, some new. A second-generation thing.”
Jax would be Brian Anderson again. Despite his willingness to brush off praise and criticism alike over his time in that role, Jax had loved it. Oz had spent enough time poking around online to know Jax—through his character—had been a teen heartthrob, appearing on magazine covers, lunchboxes, clothing. Despite the show ending in the early days of the Internet, people had fan sites devoted to the character and the show. In the pictures where Jax was interacting with fans, he wore something like his real smile.
“Sounds great.” Oz wasn’t big on lying. He was pretty sure it was obvious in his voice.
“That’s not the good part.”
“No,” Oz agreed. “The good part would be when I say I think I should blow you while I fuck you with that blue dildo.” Because they did a lot of good communication through sex.
“Uh.” Jax went still.
“I’m sorry. You were talking about your trip?”
“I don’t remember anything after ‘blow you.’”
Oz rolled on top of Jax and tongued a line from his jaw to his ear. “I said”—Oz punctuated his words with teasing brushes from his lips and tongue—“I’d suck your cock while I shove that dildo up your ass.”
“Right,” Jax murmured. His smile curved against Oz’s cheek. “And how do you expect me to stay quiet during that?”
“I’m sure we can think of a way to occupy your mouth.”
It worked best on their sides, Oz’s arm over Jax’s leg to get a hand on the dildo that had Jax panting hot, humid air on Oz’s dick. He took his time sliding it in, because in this moment, maybe in just this moment, they had time, and he hadn’t stretched Jax at all.
There were selfish reasons too. So fucking selfish. Slow like this, Oz got to feel Jax growing more and more needy, that desperation spilling out in hunger all over Oz’s cock. Groans, licks, pants, whimpers punctuated the wet, warm slide of Jax’s lips and tongue.
Oz sucked him enough to keep the precome welling steadily, but never hard, never constant, because that made the best whine from the back of Jax’s throat vibrate all over Oz’s dick. He rocked his hips, mimicking the thrust of the dildo. Jax followed the pace as his hand and mouth worked Oz. If Oz sped up with his hand, Jax matched him. When Oz went deeper, Jax’s throat squeezed around him.
Fine-tuning my own blow job. But then Oz couldn’t really think in words anymore. Only feelings. Sensation. He drove the dildo hard and deep, and thought Jax was growling.
Jax’s tongue went frantic on the underside, suction making his lips pop around the rim, a helpless gasp when he sank down again.
Oz gave the dildo a twist. It translated into a garbled plea against the slick skin of his dick, Jax’s hand going like a hypereutectic piston. Oz pulled off Jax’s cock as the friction made the tension in Oz’s balls boil over, flooding his dick with heat and sending come pumping down Jax’s throat.
Jax swallowed against him, licking and rubbing his slippery, coated lips over the head until Oz was so sensitive he had to jerk away.
Oz made a long stroke with the dildo, and Jax made a harsh gasp on wet skin.
“Fuck. Now, uh, what?”
Right. The plan for sixty-nining was to help Jax stay quiet.
Oz grinned. “Have to do your best.” He worked the dildo fast and hard as he wrapped his lips around Jax’s dick and bobbed steadily.
Jax squeezed Oz’s ass, buried his face, nose, jaw in Oz’s balls, and bucked.
Oz drew off for a breath, then went back down, twisting the base, angling the strokes inside. Whatever Jax was saying vibrated into Oz’s skin as a spurt of come coated his tongue. He swallowed and then got the whole load, thick and bitter at the back of his throat as Jax pushed in deeper.
Jax lay there panting as Oz withdrew the dildo and crawled up Jax’s body.
“Jesus, Jesus, Jesus,” Jax muttered in an endless loop.
When Oz rested his chin on a shoulder, Jax took a deep breath. He ran his hand over Oz’s head and then dropped it on the mattress. “Damn.”
Can you get that in California, Jax?
He’d never say it out loud. He didn’t want Jax to stay if he didn’t want to. Oz had had enough of that for one lifetime.
Wh
en their bodies cooled, they got up and brushed their teeth, exchanging smiles in the mirror. Jax mimed sucking dick and then smeared his lips with the foam left from his toothbrush and nodded appreciatively, dragging a laugh out of Oz’s heavy chest.
“So,” Jax said as he—respectably clad in his pajama pants and T-shirt—slid back into bed, “as I was saying before I was so spectacularly interrupted, I had that meeting.”
Jax’s focus was a pretty good indication of how right Oz was to dread what Jax was going to say next. Might as well get it over with.
“Yes. Are they interested?”
“Yes and no. The studio wants to gauge interest before making a big investment. That’s why they’ve been doing those mini marathons. The ratings have been good there, so they want to do something else.”
Was Jax really so clueless that he couldn’t tell how his leaving to go shoot a show in Vancouver or Hollywood would hurt? Hurt Oz, the girls, hurt whatever it was they were building between them? Jax acted like what he was about to say was some kind of wonderful surprise instead of a time’s-up buzzer.
His voice got low and intense—and not in the Oz’s-dick-up-his-ass, husky way.
“They’re going to do a live promo with cast appearances down in Florida at their theme park, KIDZVerse.”
“Uh-huh.”
So he’d be flying to Florida instead of California.
“I checked, and the dates are the week of spring break for all the schools in New York State. I can bring guests if I want. And I want.” Jax’s smile was bright enough to split his face. “I want you and Regan and Ayla to come with me. We get the VIP treatment. Passes to skip lines and early access, and prime seating for shows. They’ll love it.”
The girls weren’t immune to the commercials on TV showing families immersed in Orlando’s assortment of theme parks. But every time Oz thought he had a big enough cushion in the bank to justify that kind of expense, a bigger one would come up. A leaking roof, dead furnace, lawyer fees to disentangle him from Joaquín.
Jax could have been cast as a wish-granting genie. Except for one big thing.
“Don’t you think it’s going to be hard to avoid people asking questions about who you’re with? I mean, I can contain myself from touching you in public, but I’m not asking my kids to lie. And they know you’re my boyfriend.”
“That’s the beauty of the VIP thing. They’ll set up a private kind of tour so we aren’t stuck in lines and things. And the other stuff, the live appearances, that’s just performing. You and the kids could go do other stuff that would be much less boring.”
“Jax….” But Oz didn’t have a good argument ready. He’d never seen this coming.
“I’ve been behaving. Haven’t gone over budget buying them anything. But I really want to see them there. They’d have so much fun. Half the park is completely designed for the under-teen set, not just a few baby rides.” Jax rolled out of bed and grabbed his gym bag, pulling out brochures. “See. This is the hotel where they’ll put us up. We’ll have a suite. And because it’s on their property, we have early access, plus the VIP tour guide.”
Oz closed his fingers around the glossy papers. One thing he knew for sure. It wouldn’t be as easy as Jax seemed to think, but Oz wanted it too. Wanted his girls to be the ones laughing in the picture on the front cover, riding on a big plastic kangaroo that bounced through a magic landscape.
He gave Jax the same answer he gave the kids when they forced him into a corner. “We’ll see.”
DESPITE PLANNING for disaster, or because Oz had been ready for one, the trip went well. The girls were so fascinated by the airports and plane ride that there was minimal whining, and Regan only had to be told three times to stop kicking in her seat. As promised, the park was designed to capture the attention of kids. Water elements, free play structures, and rides kept the girls moving from place to place. And since they’d arrived a few days ahead of the publicity plans for Jax, no one noticed him holding Regan as she pointed out where they should go next.
The park also had a lot of spontaneous entertainment along the strip of stores and restaurants separating the younger-themed Wonderland from the ride-heavier, teen-attracting Adventureland. Oz had video of his wide-eyed girls dancing with costume versions of the cartoon character Belinda and her llama friend Emilio.
On Thursday morning, Jax was out of their suite even earlier than they’d been leaving to take advantage of the early-entry privilege. The girls had been prepped that Jax had to do work while he was there.
During their hotel breakfast, Regan looked up from her chocolate-chip-studded pancake and shook her head. “I’m sorry, Daddy.”
“For what, baby?”
“Jax’s job is much funner than yours.”
Oz smiled. “It is a lot more fun, isn’t it?”
Jax had sworn that the plane, hotel, admissions, and meal plan were all taken care of as a perk of his appearance, and Oz was determined that anything the girls bought or wanted outside that would be on his dime. He’d scheduled appointments for them at the Sparkle Salon, where they would be transformed into their choice of one of the fairies on the Forest Defender Fairies.
Car-buying sticker shock had nothing on the Sparkle Salon. The initial expense for the seating was quickly bolstered by add-ons of clip-in fairy hair, tiaras, costumes, and accessories. But Ayla was enraptured by her reflection, and Regan finally had enough glitter on her face to satisfy her, so Oz tried not to think about the fact it had cost more than two weeks’ groceries to achieve.
A parade was coming down the main strip as they exited the salon, and they stopped to watch. Oz spotted the top of Jax’s head two floats away, so Oz wasn’t surprised to hear the promotional push start over the loudspeakers.
Even he felt a little starstruck as the float rolled by with his boyfriend waving with other grownup actors from his show. Even Ayla called to him, waving her wand. Jax waved at her, at Regan, and aimed a devastating wink in their direction. The sudden flutter in Oz’s gut reminded him of being fifteen and panting over Bo Jackson or Val Kilmer.
“Daddy.” Regan pulled at his hand. “Jax’s job is definitely better than yours.”
ACCORDING TO the times guide Oz carried, the Family Daze crew was doing two appearances on the Dream Big stage. Maybe he could steer the girls over for one to watch Jax in action.
They were late for it. Oz kept forgetting how big the park was, especially with Regan’s short legs. And then there were the necessary pit stops. Oz had felt guilty about using their VIP passes to skip ahead of lines, but he was glad when a scan of their wristbands let them in to the roofed amphitheater and to a roped-off area of benches close to the stage.
A clip had been playing on a large screen to the back, the actors in a semicircle of director-style folding chairs on the stage. The emcee had just elicited chuckles from the crowd, and now he said, “So tell us one of your favorite memories from filming.”
Oz checked the program, finding the small type that listed the appearances, along with the character name, trying to ignore the thrill that went along with seeing Jax’s name there. Blaze Marshall “Skater Anderson” went first, getting some laughs with his story about an unhousebroken puppy on the loose. Jax was up next.
“If we’re talking pets, I can tell you that one of the cast members had some unusual ones.”
“Snakes.” The woman next to him, Alicia Drummond “Gwen McCann,” shuddered.
“Yup,” Jax said.
“Who had snakes?” the emcee asked.
Alicia and Jax chorused, “Blaze.”
He ducked his head and held up his hands as the audience laughed.
“Big snakes,” Jax went on. “Three tanks?”
“Four,” Alicia corrected.
Blaze nodded.
Jax shifted in his chair. “So one day we were filming—it was the episode where Skater proposes to Meredith and we can’t find the ring.”
“Oh God.” Alicia made another dramatic shudder while Blaze l
aughed.
Although it didn’t seem scripted, Jax had no trouble with his lines, playing the audience smoothly. Oz knew when Jax’s gaze fell on them, saw his smile get a bit wider. Or maybe Jax was that good at making everyone feel like he was smiling just for them.
“So we had to do a lot of looking in cabinets and closets and drawers. Every time I opened one, guess what I found?”
“A snake,” several audience members called out.
“Exactly.” Jax’s expression demanded sympathy. “Under the sink, big yellow snake. Up in Skater’s room, big brown snake in the drawer. Now remember, we were filming in front of a live audience, so there was no cutting going on. I had to pretend like I hadn’t seen them. Had to put my hand in there with them too.”
The audience was laughing, the girls laughed too, though Oz wasn’t sure they understood the joke.
The emcee interrupted to ask, “Blaze, did you hide your snakes on the set?”
“Not me, man.”
“Did you ever figure out who did?”
The three cast members looked at each other and laughed. “Konnor,” they all said at once.
The emcee led them into the promotional work. “I understand there’s talk of doing a reboot, with Brian and Gwen married and bad Uncle Skater moves in?”
Blaze embellished a bit, and then the emcee turned to the audience. “What do you think? Do we want to see that?”
There were some squeals, and a respectable amount of applause. Though since the audience here was probably made up of die-hard fans, to Oz it seemed like preaching to the choir.
The emcee started a round of Q&A.
“Can we go on another ride now, Daddy?” Ayla asked.
“Sure.” He gathered their water bottles and put them in the backpack he was carrying.
A preteen girl in the middle of the audience had the first question. “I want to ask if Brian and Gwen were dating all this time.”
Alicia took that one. “Well, in the new show, Brian and Gwen would be married—”
“No, I mean, you and Jax for real.”
“Oh.” Alicia looked like she didn’t know what to do with that one.
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