by Amy Lane
“No,” Tino told him, near tears himself. “I’m not. Because Nica—she was supposed to rule the world. And it would be okay, you know? If I maybe… maybe I slacked off, and maybe didn’t try to go get the job in Tokyo or Mexico City and set the world on fire. I could maybe let my little sister rule the world, but….”
Jacob frowned at him. “Tino, what are you talking about?”
Tino shook his head, wondering what he was going to tell Channing, wondering what sort of job he could work while trying to be a parent to Sammy. Because Channing was right—Sammy needed to be thought about, and he needed to be cared for. And Channing, he had his own business, and Tino, he was just starting out. It was clichéd, wasn’t it, for the younger one to be the little wifey, but it was what would have to happen, right?
But even that didn’t kill Tino’s urge to find out what life would be like if mornings started out in Channing Lowell’s arms.
“Nothing,” he said, more confused than ever. “Nothing, I just—”
Jacob shook his head and ruffled Tino’s hair. “Man, whatever. If you’re falling in love with your boss, you’re falling in love with your boss. I’ll do whatever I need to do to make sure Nica gets the sort of future she wants the most. This guy’s worth your time, he’ll do the same thing.”
It’s not fair of me to ask you for a commitment when all you’ve seen is how to watch Sammy and how to fire the maid.
Channing had said it too.
“You’re very wise,” Tino told Jacob now, not ironic at all. “And you’re the best mechanic in Roseville—if you can’t make a business run with my sister helping, nobody can.” He smiled, still troubled but a little more hopeful, and patted his friend’s arm. “And you’re a good friend too,” he said, because he didn’t want Jacob to doubt. “You’re honest, and you don’t try to do stupid things like sneak around and be all about the drama.”
“What, am I dying?” Jacob asked, wrinkling his nose. “Oh my God—that’s the nicest you’ve been to me since, like, freshman year, when I got that really big zit on my nose right before homecoming. You remember?”
Tino burst out laughing. “How could I forget? You were going to have that thing take your tests for you. It was practically sentient.”
“I’m sayin’!”
They laughed companionably, and Sammy spoke into the falling silence. “Is it pizza time yet? It’s getting cold in the pool!”
“By all means, come along,” Tino called, and then he stood up to get Sammy a towel while Jacob set the table.
They were well on their way to a second slice of pizza when the door to the patio opened and Channing ushered through one of the most stunning women Tino had ever seen.
“Damn,” Jacob said matter-of-factly. “Tino, if I wasn’t seriously in love with your sister… I’m saying.”
Tino nodded, his eyes practically bugging out of his head. “And if I wasn’t gay, same.”
“Hi,” Channing called happily, striding to the patio alongside the gorgeous brunette woman in the cobalt evening dress. She had round little cheeks and a pert nose, bright blue eyes, and full lips with a wicked tilt to the side.
And she could walk on a pool patio wearing stilettos, which impressed the hell out of Tino.
“Did you eat all the pizza?” Channing asked when they “arrived” at the picnic table. “Jen may be able to function on canapés and champagne, but I usually need real food.”
“That’s what salad is for,” Jen teased. “And hello, I’m Jen, and you must be Tino,” she said, bowing her regal updo in his direction. She looked politely at Jacob, and her smile never wavered. “I’m afraid Channing hasn’t mentioned you,” she said, “but it’s awfully nice to meet a friend of Tino’s.”
“This is my stupid friend Jacob,” Tino said, elbowing Jacob in the ribs. “And he’s trying not to tell me that he has evil designs on my sister, but I’m not that dumb. I figured it out.”
Channing laughed and offered a high five. “Well done, young man,” he said, and Jacob returned the five with interest.
“Yeah, well, I had to do something or Tino would have run off to be captain of business and left me in the dust.”
Tino bit his lip and shook his head. To think he’d been worried about being able to leave his friend—his family—behind. “Tino doesn’t have the balls to be captain of business,” he said quietly. “Tino will just have to be happy to get an interview at some point in time so he can prove they don’t give away degrees for free.” He’d given his portfolio to a headhunter this past week, with the understanding that he couldn’t interview until the last week of August, but he didn’t want to think about that now, not with Channing there for what felt like the first time in a week.
“Tino needs to stop talking about himself in the third person,” Jacob said, looking at Channing for backup. Channing wasn’t looking at Jacob, though. Channing’s eyes were all for Tino.
“Channing?” Jen prompted. “Were you going to have some pizza with Sammy? I need to go inside to make some calls.”
Channing shook his head like he was pulling himself from another place and then smiled. “Of course—thanks, Jen. Let me have dinner; then I’ll run in and change and we can go.”
“No problem, sweet cakes.” She raised her face for a kiss on the cheek, which Channing gave without question. “Just remember I’ve got that whole art exhibition next week, and you’re totally on for that, okay? My mother is going to be there, and she doesn’t nag me when you’re my pretend date.”
“Deal,” he said and then slid onto the picnic bench across from Tino and next to Sammy. “In the meantime, go be a procurer of fine arts, and I’ll try not to make us late.”
“Bye, Sammy,” Jen chirped as she turned away. “Don’t be mad at him for leaving—he’s doing this for you.”
Sammy watched her go, and Tino had the impression he hadn’t even noticed the woman until she’d glided back into the house.
“What did she mean?” Sammy asked between dogged chews of his pizza. “What are you doing for me?”
Channing leaned forward and bumped noses with him. “Well, tonight is sort of a celebration, you see? I moved part of my business up to Sacramento. It’s why I haven’t been here much. I wanted to be able to be here all the time, so I made it easier to get to and from the office so we can have dinner together almost every night and I can see you off to school, even.”
And Tino could admit it—he was exhausted. He was exhausted and growing resentful of being saddled here in this nice house that he didn’t even have time to clean, with a child who had been so, so hard to please, for nearly the past month.
But Sammy’s slow smile suddenly made it all worth it. “I was so afraid,” he said, sober gray eyes peering up at his uncle. “I know you live a long way away, and you kept having to go back. I didn’t want you to go anymore, but….” His voice cracked. “I didn’t want to leave my friends either!”
Channing wrapped an arm around those narrow little shoulders and slouched down, pizza in his other hand. “I didn’t want you to.” He smiled and dropped a kiss on Sammy’s head. “And I’m so glad you’re happy I’m staying.”
Oh… oh man. Tino had so much he had to think about, so many things he needed to address with Channing, with Sammy, with his future.
But this moment, Channing tired but hopeful, Sammy grateful and sweet—Tino yearned to be a full-fledged member of this little family, and he wasn’t sure if the thing that was holding him back was as important as the thing that was urging him on.
Channing finished his dinner shortly after that and stood up. “Time to go,” he said regretfully. “Tino, could you walk up with me?”
Tino nodded. “Jakey, if you clean up, we can go in and watch videos with Sammy. Sammy, go put on some dry clothes, okay?”
Sammy nodded. “Cookie time?” he said with great amounts of hope.
“You betcha.”
And then he trusted Jacob with Sammy like he was going to have to trust him wi
th Nica, and followed Channing through the patio doors.
As soon as the darkness at the foot of the staircase swallowed them, Channing turned and took Tino’s face between his palms, kissing him hungrily. Tino, needy and melancholy from the revelations of the day, kissed him back, drank from him, fed by his warmth and his strength and his want.
Jen’s voice rose and fell in the sitting room, and that alone pulled Tino back when Channing broke off the kiss. They stood for a moment, panting, Tino’s hands at Channing’s waist, Channing’s hands underneath Tino’s shirt, and regarded each other in the purple shadows of the unlit house.
“I can wait for you,” Channing said roughly. “I can wait as long as you need me to. Just… just….”
“I’m thinking,” Tino agreed. “I don’t wanna stop. I don’t wanna let go—”
“Don’t,” Channing urged and took his mouth again, hands roaming Tino’s chest under his shirt. God help him, Tino had hung on to his sexual innocence for twenty-two years, but he was so hungry for that touch right there that he could probably have given himself in the space underneath the stairs, fallen to his knees or bent over in blatant invitation, if only Channing would keep touching him, keep holding him, keep wanting him just like….
The front door opened, surprising them both. They were invisible in their little corner by the stairs, but they could see Mirella’s sharp features clearly outlined in the light from the porch. Channing’s arms tightened around Tino’s shoulders, and Tino could see his jaw hardening and anger bunching the fine lines by his eyes. His body strained, taking a step forward, and Tino held him back.
“No,” he said. “You can’t be here tonight—”
“If she’s planning to rob the house, I’d rather she not be either!” Channing muttered.
“We don’t want to force her hand!” Tino said, thinking about how the maid had been generally sliding out of her place in the home already.
“Well too bad,” Channing said, and Tino realized he wasn’t going to allow this person—this unfriendly, possibly unsafe person—in his house any longer. He pulled out his phone and started punching buttons, talking as he did so. “You stay here. Don’t let her see you, don’t let her know you’re involved. I called a different security company earlier this week”—he pressed Send with a flourish—“they’re on their way over. They’ll keep an eye out until I get back tonight.”
Tino scowled, uncomfortable at best. “But what about her boyfriend?”
Channing’s jaw assumed a no-nonsense cant, and for the first time, Tino really understood the sort of power a man like Channing Lowell was used to wielding. Leaving his domestic business in the hands of someone else—and subjecting Tino to the vagaries of an unstable situation—had not sat well on him these past weeks.
“Well, since I told the original security company why I was leaving them, maybe he’ll get fired.”
He kissed Tino hard and fast and turned away.
“Stay there,” he cautioned and then strode forward.
Tino watched him fire Mirella from the shadows—and he did it damned fast.
“I’m sorry, but at a time when my family has needed the most help, you’ve been a nuisance at best. I’ve called a security company to escort you out. You have less than an hour to—”
Mirella narrowed her eyes. “Don’t bother,” she snapped. “My stuff is already gone. You and your little… manny can fuck each other all the time now!” She looked around but didn’t see Tino. “Did you hear that, Tino! You have fun while you can, you little faggot!”
Channing didn’t lay hands on her, but he did lean forward. “Get. Out.” He said it through clenched teeth, and while Tino couldn’t imagine the gentleman who had been so patient—and gentle—over the past few weeks laying hand on a woman, he could imagine this man doing anything necessary to keep his family secure.
Mirella glared defiantly at him for a moment and then turned around on her heel and walked out without another word.
Channing grimaced when the door slammed, and returned to Tino’s spot in the shadows. “Sorry about—”
“Don’t you apologize for her,” Tino rejoined. “She doesn’t get your ‘sorry’—not her.”
“All right, then—so, I can stay until security arrives. I mean, I can stay all night if you don’t want to worry about—”
Oh no—Tino was not going to let that woman deprive this man of a very well-earned celebration. “No, go—go change. You have celebrating to do, and I need to remind Jacob not to knock up my little sister.”
Channing glared at him. “You’re bossy,” he said as though this had just hit him.
Tino nodded. “And now you know. I’m not little wifey who takes care of the kid and gets your suits pressed. I’m a bossy, irritating bastard, so there. Do you still want to kiss me?”
The glare turned just that fast. “You’re not a bastard. You’re….”
“If you say bitch, I will go smudge all your shiny shoes,” Tino threatened seriously.
“No,” Channing protested. “I was going to say asshole. But whatever. You be as bossy as you want, just….”
And like that they were back to where they had been before Mirella had come in, their bodies needing to be skin-on-skin.
“Just don’t go,” Tino said, nodding. “I understand.”
Channing raised a hand to his jaw. “The next month is going to be busy. Not as busy as it has been. Just nine-to-seven busy. But I want… I have a thing,” he said, and Tino was close enough, knew his scent and his heat enough, to smell his blush in their cool little corner of the house. “I have a thing I want to give you. A plan. But….” He swallowed. “So young,” he murmured, smiling slightly. “So much future. I don’t want to take that from you, Tino. I just… I have a thing—”
“Channing, are you ready yet?” Jen called from the living room.
Channing groaned. “God—”
“Go!” Tino shooed, and Channing disappeared up the stairs. Tino ventured into the fancy sitting room—the one with the piano—and turned on the lights. “He’ll be down in a second,” he said.
She made a skeptical chuffing sound in the back of her throat, completely at odds with her beautiful gown and collected appearance.
“No, really—”
“Tino?” she said, her voice choked with laughter.
“What?”
“You, uh, might want to button your cargo shorts and pull your shirt down in the back.”
“Oh dear God,” he muttered, completely mortified. This was Channing’s ex, for hell’s sake! He fixed himself with hurried movements and had one foot toward the doorway in a planned exit when she stopped him.
“Tino?” she said, and there was no laughter in her voice this time.
He turned hesitantly. “What?”
“I was his first—and his first girl. But that was back in early college. I’ve seen him through a couple of breakups—girls, boys, he’s equal-opportunity, you know?”
Tino swallowed. And very much more experienced. Yes, Tino got it. “Yeah.”
“He cares about you. And I know you’re young, but… when Channing cares about you, even if the… the being lovers thing stops, the caring doesn’t.”
Tino regarded her in the lamplight and wished he had something—something coherent and not deeply personal—to say. “Oh.”
She smiled slightly, and for a moment he saw someone who might have been a vulnerable college student once, someone as light-struck by Channing Lowell as Tino himself. “I just thought… you know. That might be important to you.”
It was his turn to smile. “It is,” he said, his stomach buzzing uncomfortably. “It’s… it’s everything. Thank you.”
He turned away then, because he wanted to make sure Jacob and Sammy were settled and that Mirella didn’t have a chance to say anything to them about the mess or dinner or… anything. God, it made him uncomfortable just having that woman in the house.
Sure, Tino. You’ve got an erection that astronau
ts can see from space and you’re wandering the house half-dressed. It’s the maid who makes you uncomfortable.
SAMMY was happy that night.
He didn’t seem to notice that Mirella had left, or that Tino had watched through the front window as she’d stood outside for nearly half an hour with security guards beforehand. Tino excused himself to go make sure the guards were taking her, and as soon as he’d walked out, he’d heard her yell—in French—over the phone. Tino hadn’t been able to make out much beyond “This is almost over, dammit” before he went back into the house—but the whole thing made him uneasy.
He hid it from Sammy, though. Tino had his favorite cookies and Jacob was one of his other favorite people. When Jacob asked the little boy if he could bring Nica—Dinner Box Girl—the next time he came, Sammy nodded with excitement.
“Can she bring lasagna? Tino’s been cooking for the last week. He’s not as good as Nica.”
Jacob stared at Tino in pity. “You’ve been cooking? Dude, you burn grilled cheese!”
“I worked at Panera!” Tino protested.
“I know—if you don’t have a Panini maker, you’re lost!”
Sammy laughed. “He can make grilled cheese, ham sandwiches, and open soup!” he said. “And frozen pizza, frozen hot pockets, frozen chicken nuggets—he’s the best cook ever!”
Jacob collapsed into sobs of laughter, and Tino rolled his eyes. “Ignore him,” he said, nodding soberly. “I am the best cook ever, and he’s a big goober with no taste.”
Jacob howled some more, and Tino turned up the television in answer. They were watching Home tonight, and Sammy hadn’t seen it before. Tino was a fan.
Ten minutes into the movie, Channing came down the stairs and murmured to Jen, and together they popped their heads in and waved.
Sammy and Jacob were immersed in the movies by that time, but Tino waved back.
“We won’t be too late,” Channing promised, and Jen made a growl of frustration.
“Channing, you busted your ass for this new office and this party—I’m driving. Please don’t promise to come home early.”