by JD Ruskin
“Oh God,” he shivered, pulling back just enough to look up at me. “You feel different. You sounded… different right then.”
“Did I?”
His smile was blinding. “Oh shit.”
“Nice.”
“Weber,” he gasped, and he lost it, tears, trembling lip, body shaking. It all happened at once. But he was drunk off his ass, so I understood. “You’re going to stay? Tell me you’re going to stay and move in with me and live with me until I die.”
“I’ll pass before you, idiot,” I told the most hopeful, happy, terrified pair of eyes I had ever seen. “I’m older.”
He climbed me, and I had to laugh because the man had his legs wrapped around my waist, arms around my neck, and his tongue shoved down my throat in seconds. The kiss was hard and devouring and ravenous, and breathing was an afterthought. He ravaged me, and after long minutes, I became peripherally aware of the applause before he tore his mouth from mine to look up.
“We get it.” One of the men close to us smiled brightly at Cy. “He’s yours: hands off.”
“God, that was hot,” someone else chimed in. “I had no idea you had that in you, Dr. Benning.”
“You’re going to stay,” he whispered close to my ear. “And be mine.”
I chuckled, looking up at my sweet man as he pulled back to look at me, his big soft eyes and swollen lips. God, he was pretty, and now that I’d claimed him, I was not about to have strangers ogling him.
“Let’s go home. The car’s outside.”
“Yessir.” He breathed over my face, beaming down at me, his face, his eyes, his smile all infused with more joy then I thought was possible.
I turned, still carrying him as, from how hard he was hanging on, he had no inclination to be put down, and started heading for the door.
“You know what I want?”
“Tell me,” I said, one hand on his ass, the other around his back.
“When we get home, will you hold me so tight that I can feel your heart beating?”
“I will,” I promised and took a settling breath.
“Weber.”
I stopped as I recognized William Reece, one of his friends from my last visit. “Will.”
“Yes.” He smiled at me as I gently set Cy down on his feet. “It’s good to see you. Are you staying this time? From the look on his face I’m thinking you’re staying.”
“I am,” I assured him.
He offered me his hand. “I’m so glad, Web. For both of you.”
But I didn’t even have a job. I was homeless and—
“Weber?”
I realized I had not taken his hand and grabbed it fast, shaking.
“You scared me.” He sighed, and I understood at that moment that he liked what he saw. He liked me. “I want us to be friends.”
“I appreciate that, but you—”
“I meant every word,” he promised, and the look in his clear green eyes, solid, let me know he was telling the truth. “I’m thrilled that you’re going to stay. I look forward to hanging out with both of you. Come say a quick hello to the guys, all right?”
“Next time,” Cy told him, shoving William gently back. “Gotta go home and get laid right now, Will.”
“Oh, okay,” he said quickly, his black eyebrows shooting up as he mouthed the word trashed to me and ended with a wicked grin. “We’ll see you soon.”
“God, you’re drunk,” I assured Cy as I grabbed his hand, yanking him after me toward the front door.
“Yeah, so what?” he growled in reply.
We were stopped outside, before we hit the stairs, but this time by someone I had never met before.
“I saw that over-the-top display inside, Cy,” the tall, handsome man who was barring our path said. “I don’t get an introduction to the man you pined for?”
The ex. I got it.
“Just let it go, Seth. We’re just leaving.”
“So let me understand.” He squinted at me. “I wasn’t good enough, but a homeless drifter is. Explain to me how that makes any sense.”
I moved to walk around him, but he cut me off. And I understood. I really did. Cyrus Benning was a catch. He was beautiful and rich and smart and funny and just Prince Charming in the flesh. I would have tried to get him back if I lost him too. Fortunately for me, I was the one. I was the guy, his guy, the man he wanted to grow old with.
“Move, please,” I asked nicely.
“So,” he said, looking me up and down, “you’re what the fuss was all about. I can’t say I’m impressed.” He sneered at me. “Still riding bulls, cowboy?”
“Nope.” I smirked at him. “I only ride his cock now.”
Not the answer he was expecting.
His mouth fell open.
Cy gasped.
“Are we clear?” I wanted to make sure.
“Get the fuck out of our way before I kick your ass!” Cy yelled, slurring his words, on the verge, it seemed, of taking a swing at the guy.
I turned, grabbed Cy, threw him over my shoulder, and took the stairs easily even with his added weight.
Outside on the sidewalk, I started back toward where I had left the car.
“Put me down!”
“So that was the guy you slept with when I left last time, huh?”
“Weber Yates, put me down!”
“How the hell did he know I was a bull rider?” I asked as though he wasn’t screaming at me.
“Because I told him all about you just like I told every guy I ever dated all about you because you’re the love of my fucking life!”
“Why’re you mad?” I tried not to snicker.
“Because you just told that piece of crap that I fucked you and that was just between us!”
Well, now it wasn’t anyway because he had just yelled it to the whole block. “Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why would you care if I told him?”
“Because it’s private!” He was probably foaming at the mouth, he was so mad. “What we do in our bedroom is no one’s business but ours, and it was beautiful and amazing and nothing I would have ever shared with—”
“Calm down,” I said softly, patting his ass, my voice deep and low.
“I don’t want him to think about you like that, like he could fuck you, because only I fuck you!”
I stopped and put him down because he was still fuming and not losing any of his anger.
“I’m so pissed at you right now!” He was still snarling and yipping like a rabid dog.
“Don’t be.” I grinned before I grabbed him and pulled him close. “I like that you’re possessive of me, of us. It means a lot.”
When I bent to kiss him, he parted his lips for me eagerly, but I took my time, and when I lifted up just barely, not enough to be parted from the feel of his warm breath on my face, I noticed that his eyes were open.
“You’re supposed to close your eyes when I kiss you.”
“But I’m a little bit afraid I’m dreaming right now so I kind of don’t want to stop looking at you.”
“God, you’re so drunk and cute.”
“What?”
“Get in the car,” I ordered him, holding open the passenger side door.
“I am not cute, and I’m not that drunk.”
I shoved him down, held onto his head so he wouldn’t clunk it, and closed the door. Once I was behind the wheel, he reiterated that yes, he was a little tipsy, but not sloshed.
“Okay, darlin’,” I agreed, strapping him in. “Try not to puke in the car.”
“I’m not gonna be sick.” He was indignant. “I drink all the time, Weber.”
Uh-huh.
I didn’t even say I told you so when I had to stop three blocks away so he could hurl up a lung. It would have been mean.
At home, I put a cool washcloth on the back of his neck as he threw up some more and then rubbed his back when it subsided to retching.
“This is supposed to be the most beautiful night of my life,”
he groaned, head on the rim of the porcelain bowl, his skin moist, pale, and chilled.
“But this way it’s memorable.” I smiled at him.
“I’m disgusting.”
“You’re drunk.” I sighed. “Did you even eat anything today?”
He ignored my question. “How can you even be in here?”
“Because all this don’t bother me none. Now get up, wash your face, brush your teeth, and I’ll get you some Tylenol and water.”
“This is gross, but I’m kind of hungry.”
“Okay.”
“And I want a shower.”
“Good.” I couldn’t stop smiling at him. “You do that. I’ll make you a sandwich and some soup. Meet me in the kitchen.”
“Thanks.”
I got up and left him then.
By the time he staggered out to the kitchen and took a seat at the bar, I had a turkey sandwich made for him, just plain except for a light smear of mayonnaise, and a bowl of chicken noodle soup. There was a glass of water as well, and two Tylenol caplets.
He ate and I cleaned up.
“Web.”
I turned around, leaned back against the sink, and looked at him.
“What are you planning on doing now that you’re going to stay?”
“I’m gonna work for your sister and take care of them boys. I don’t think her husband is comin’ back, but even if he does, she’ll still need me. He cheated on her once, she ain’t about to be made a fool of a second time. She won’t have another woman in her house.”
“I agree.” He cleared his throat. “Are you okay with doing that? Taking care of the kids?”
I crossed my arms. “I am. Are you?”
“How do you mean?”
“Well, you’re the one who has to say to people, I sleep with a nanny.”
He choked on his water. It went down the wrong hole, and I moved quickly, taking the glass and shoving a napkin in his face.
“Don’t barf anymore.”
“Well, what the hell,” he yelled at me. “Jesus Christ, Weber, I don’t give a shit what you do. I just love thinking of you here at home, in our home, just puttering around doing nothing, just being with me every single day. All I want is—”
“A foundation.”
“What?”
“You wanna build. You want us to make a life together.”
“Yes. Exactly.”
I nodded. “The other day, Micah had to draw somethin’ that reminded him of me, and he drew me as a mountain.”
“He did?”
“He did, and it got me thinkin’,” I said as I walked around the bar to stand beside him. “I am a mountain. I don’t have roots like you and your family, but I’m here and I won’t move. You can build on me, count on me, and we’ll use your roots, and I can make a home for all y’all.”
He was nodding and not speaking, and it was easy to see that he couldn’t. I turned him in his chair and took him into my arms, cradling his head in my hand, smoothing my hand over his back, rubbing circles there.
“Oh God, please, Weber, be my home.”
“Thank you for believing I could be. I won’t let you down.”
He hugged me so hard, so tight, and kissed the side of my neck before something occurred to him and he leaned back to look at my face.
“What?”
“Who is you all?”
My smile was huge.
Chapter Seven
THE AUDITORIUM was filled with people and our seats were in the middle, so once we were sitting, there was no way to get back up. It was why, before we went in, I was squatting down in front of Pip asking if he had to go to the bathroom.
He was standing, as was his habit, between my thighs, arm around my neck, leaning on me as he considered the question.
“I dunno, maybe.”
“We could go just in case,” I suggested.
He was thinking on it.
“Hey, Weber, Tristan.”
I lifted my head and then my hand in greeting to James Barnes, Tristan’s soccer coach. “Hey, Jim, how’s your daughter?”
“Good,” he said, coming over, “she’s good. Just lost the one tooth. Thank God it was a baby one.”
“That other kid should be out for the year. He’s a menace.”
“Oh, I agree. One red card isn’t enough of a deterrent for him or his father.”
“Is Lily playing in the concert?” I asked him.
“Oh no, my younger daughter, Jane.” He smiled at me. “She’s the same age as Micah.”
I nodded, rising, picking up Pip and lifting him with me. “Lemme introduce everyone. This here is Carolyn Easton, Tristan’s mom, and my partner, her brother, Dr. Cyrus Benning, and you know Pip.”
“Nice to meet you all.” He nodded, shaking both of their hands, but really, you could tell, not giving a crap. His attention was back on me fast. “So, Weber, Thursday the bus for soccer camp leaves at eight in the morning, so I’ll meet you and Tris there at seven thirty.”
“We’ll be there.”
“I’m so sorry I haven’t been able to make any of Tristan’s games,” Carolyn said quickly, getting his attention. “It feels odd to just now be meeting the coach of my son’s team.”
“Everyone’s busy,” he told her. “But you have Weber to stand in for you, and for that you’re very fortunate.”
“I agree.” She smiled at him.
James turned back to me. “And again, I can’t thank you enough, Web. You’re the only guardian that everyone agreed could go. Everybody else has a stick up their—” he remembered Pip was there “—has something to say about some other parent, except you.”
“Well, I appreciate that.” I smiled at him.
He squeezed my shoulder and left us then.
“Lemme take him to the bathroom,” I told Carolyn and Cy before I started across the floor. “You too, Tris.”
The three of us headed for the restroom, and we would have made it quicker, but I was stopped by Micah’s second grade teacher, who wanted to tell me how wonderful his three-dimensional diorama of the inside of a potato bug had looked. I thought it was disgusting, but apparently she had liked it. She was also looking forward to seeing me at the parent-teacher conference since Carolyn would be out of town on business that week. I was waylaid by Tristan’s teacher as well, then Pip’s, and several parents who just wanted to say hello.
The boys and I barely made it to our seats before the lights dimmed and the curtain rose revealing the three rows of kids. The Easter concert was beginning. At Christmas, the whole school participated in the program, but for this one, only the school chorus, of which Micah had become a member at the start of the New Year, performed.
There had been changes. The first thing I had done was ask Cy to invite Carolyn and the boys to live with us. He had all that room, and she was alone with her boys in a house she didn’t love and no longer felt comfortable in. She had been cheated on in what was supposed to be her sanctuary. It wasn’t a good place for her. And having her drive across town every morning to drop off her children and her car with me was just a pain. This way she could go at a slower speed in the morning, collect herself, sit, read the paper, and ready herself for her day instead of jump-starting her heart with the blare of her alarm going off.
Cy was unsure. We had just become an us, and he didn’t want anything to wreck that, wanted to make sure we had the best chance of survival.
“But I’m here,” I told him, staring into his eyes. “And I ain’t goin’ nowhere. You can’t get rid of me no matter what.”
“I’m not worried about that,” he promised. “You’re never leaving me. I won’t let you.”
“So then?”
He agreed because, above all, the man was logical. It just made good sense.
Carolyn didn’t resist me. She wanted her life to be solid again, have a new foundation. She, too, was ready to build it on me, and I was humbled by her faith.
The boys lost their minds, and even as we set down ground ru
les, they were too excited to take them all in. They got a new house, their own rooms, and when Cy brought home a stray that had been found behind the dumpster at the hospital, we were a complete family of six plus a dog named Reba (after my favorite singer in the world) that the vet said was probably half Labrador retriever, half malamute, and would eat us out of house and home. She was big and friendly and sweet until the one day a guy come up on me a little too fast, and there was suddenly snarling, the show of teeth, and her hair standing on end. Apparently, Reba was ten kinds of even tempered as long as you didn’t threaten her family. I was much the same, so I understood.
Christmas had been amazing. We stayed home, and Cy’s folks came to us. They were both thrilled that I was there for good, even more excited by the living arrangement of their children, and when Owen took me for a walk, his arm across my shoulders, I understood that we were going to be friends. He and his wife were crazy about me. It was overwhelming but nice.
Cy put my name on everything, which I didn’t want him to do, but to him, again, it was logical. If, heaven forbid, he died, he wanted me taken care of as well as the boys. He also liked his name and mine together on any official documents, like a deed to a house, a domestic partnership agreement, and things like that. It made him sublimely happy. He emptied my storage facility in Abilene and had everything shipped to me. I appreciated it more than I could say. I had it all stored at a new place close by so that when I was ready to go through it all one day, I could. I wasn’t prepared yet, but there was no rush.