by J. M. Colail
“You didn’t do it, because that wasn’t who you really were.”
D let his hands fall away from Jack’s body and into his own lap. He stared down at them. “I don’t deserve you, or none a this,” he murmured.
“Jesus, D. Can we not do this again? That is just another way for you to disengage. If you don’t deserve us then you don’t really have to work at being a part of this relationship, do you?”
“Christ, ya know I fuckin’ hate it when you talk like a shrink!”
“Then don’t make me do it! It doesn’t matter if you deserve this or not; you’re here and I’m here and this is what we’ve got. Maybe I don’t deserve it, either.”
“Why, you got a trail a fuckin’ bodies behind you that I don’t know ’bout?”
Jack grabbed D’s face in his hands. “Look at me. I can’t spend the rest of our lives repeating myself. I want to be with you, and to do that I have to learn to live with your past. I’m not going to tell you I’m fine with everything; you’d know I was lying. Nothing’s perfect. Neither of us can do anything about what’s happened in the past. I’m just….” He paused, surprised to find himself choking up. “I’m just grateful we have each other now,” he said past the lump in his throat. “And all we can do is make it good.”
D reached up and clasped Jack’s hands in his own, bringing them down between them. “I came home early ’cause the whole time I was in that room with those bodies, all I could think about was that I hadta get ta you as soon as I could and tell ya I love you,” he said. “Love you so much that… well, don’t hardly know what ta do with it most a the time.”
Jack smiled, the lump in his throat growing larger. D didn’t say that very often. He leaned forward and pressed his forehead to D’s. “I love you too,” he whispered.
THEY THREW on boxer shorts and went downstairs to find something to eat. They ended up sitting on the couch in the den eating leftover Chinese food straight out of the carton with pretzels and Twizzlers on the side.
“I’ve got a… thing tomorrow night,” Jack said through a mouthful of kung pao chicken. “Abe Avendale is moving to Tucson, and he’s having a going-away party at his house. I’m more or less obligated to put in an appearance. I’ll make it as quick as I can.”
“Mmm. Don’t hafta.”
“You just got home. I don’t want to be gone all night—”
“I’ll go with ya.”
Jack blinked. “You… you will?”
D shrugged. “Yeah, what the hell. Frank says I oughta try talkin’ ta some regular folks now ’n’ again.”
“I knew I liked Frank.” Jack grinned. “Well, good then. Oh, and I have some news!”
“Yeah?”
“I talked to my broker and he says that I ought to be able to pay you for half the house in a few months.”
D paused mid-chew, then slowly set down his carton of lo mein. “I told ya you don’t gotta do that.”
“I know. I want to.”
“Bought this house fer you. You don’t gotta pay me for half.”
“I don’t want you to buy me a house, Anson. It isn’t a gift like a new tie or a bike. It’s something we ought to share.”
“Why cain’t ya jus’ let me do that?” D said, getting agitated. “Lemme spend this damn money on somethin’ good, take away the stain a how I earned it!”
“Fine, you spent it on something good. Now I’ll pay you for half with the money that I earned fixing faces. Nothing wrong with that money, is there?”
“Why you gotta be so stubborn ’bout this?”
“Because I’m not your little wifey, D!” Jack exclaimed. “I won’t be set up in housekeeping like a mail-order bride! I don’t need you to support me. Do you know how much money I make? What else am I going to do with it? Buy fancy cars and gourmet coffee?”
“Y’always said ya wanted ta travel.”
“I’d love to travel, but you won’t go anywhere.”
“I gone places with ya!”
“Yeah, we had our little tour, but since you started working it’s been all I can do to get you to go down to Hocking Hills for the weekend.”
D’s face fell. “You don’t like Hocking Hills?”
“I like it fine, but….” Jack eyed him. “What?”
“I was gonna take you down there next weekend. Once that boy’s surgery’s done.”
Jack sagged a little. “Oh. Well, that’s… nice. But if he has complications I won’t be able to leave.”
“He’ll be fine. We’ll go on down and get a cabin and spend the whole weekend in the hot tub.”
He nodded. “All right, D. All right.”
TWO A.M. and D was wide awake. He lay in bed with Jack in his arms, sleeping peacefully against his chest, his breath stirring the sparse hair there. After their improvised dinner they’d spooned up on the couch under an afghan and watched the news, then Jack had taken his hand and led him back upstairs to their bedroom where they’d made love again, slow and more thorough, leaving any and all troubling discussions aside.
He looked down at Jack’s face, his dark lashes lying against his cheek. He lifted a finger and riffled it through the soft hair at the nape of Jack’s neck, feeling that still-strange bubble of contentment swelling in his chest, always surprising that such an emotion could be his.
D had never imagined he could be as happy as he was with Jack. Their relationship wasn’t perfect. His long absences wore on both of them. His happiness was perpetually tinged with fear that it’d be taken from him, not to mention doubt that he deserved it. His instinct to take care of Jack drove Jack crazy. Jack’s recklessness about his own safety and freedom with their private details drove D crazy. And always, always there was the elephant in the room that they both saw but did not discuss: the fact of D’s criminal past and what he’d done to ensure Jack’s safety.
He had to make himself believe that these things could be overcome. He didn’t know if he could change. He often doubted it, and just waited for the day it became too much for Jack, and he’d lose him. But for now, he could just enjoy that surge of joy that came through him when he got home and saw Jack smile at him, that big happy grin that seemed to say that D was all Jack had been missing to make his life complete. He could relax in the company of someone who truly knew him and accepted him, even if he hardly understood how that was possible. He could hear Jack call him “Anson” and feel that the name was his to bear again.
And it was… peaceful. Life with Jack was peaceful, and peace was a strange thing to his soul. Even if Jack was continually trying to drag his ass into a greater participation in the world than he would have preferred. He could stand it if that was Jack wanted.
He’d never dreamt of having the kind of sex life he had now, either. His relations with Sharon had been perfunctory, obligatory, pleasant but sometimes hardly worth the trouble. Sex with Jack, on the other hand, was… well, he wasn’t sure he could describe it. It was humbling to know that Jack could have him panting like a dog, groveling at his feet if he so desired. He was powerless before his desire for Jack, and that was scary sometimes, but the payoff was well worth the sacrifice in the self-control department.
He hugged Jack a little closer. Jack stirred and resettled his head in the crook of D’s shoulder, then relaxed back into sleep.
He’d almost said it tonight. He’d wondered if now was the right time, and it had almost popped out. Marry me, Jack. Lemme put a ring on yer finger so the world’ll see that yer spoken for. Tell me it’ll be ’til death. Promise me.
There’d be time for that. All this was still so new.
But he had plans. Plans and intentions. First on the list was to protect this man who slept in his arms so trusting, so open. Nobody would ever hurt Jack, ever… and nobody would ever take Jack away from him.
Not ever.
Jack and D’s adventures aren’t over.
Visit www.janesevillebooks.com for exclusive Web-only short stories, news, and Jane’s blog.
JANE SEVILLE
owns a bookstore in Columbus, Ohio, and can’t believe she’s actually written one of these book things she’s been selling to others for years. Her coworkers are a little surprised that her first effort is about a gay relationship, but she isn’t. She grew up in Syracuse, New York, where her mother directed the local gay men’s chorus, and she attended a women’s college. Sometimes it’s the straight lifestyle that seems alternative to her.
Jane lives in a house too big for her that she got in her divorce. She shares it with a Newfoundland and a pack of unruly friends who come around every few days to be fed. She’s a pathological reader and collects cookbooks, of which she has over five hundred. She frequently visits the Columbus neighborhood where Jack and D live, and she’s even picked out a house for them. She’s waiting to be invited over for dinner.
Visit Jane’s website at www.janesevillebooks.com.
Published by
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of author imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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© 2015 Paul Richmond.
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Digital ISBN: 978-1-63476-611-1
First Edition May 2015
Diplomacy previously published by Dreamspinner Press, January 2008.
Cover Design by Mara McKennen.
Wes & Toren previously published by Dreamspinner Press, January2009.
Cover Design by Mara McKennen.
True North previously published by Dreamspinner Press, January 2009.
Cover Design by Mara McKennen.
A Note in the Margin previously published by Dreamspinner Press, March 2009.
Cover Design by Mara McKennen.
Zero at the Bone previously published by Dreamspinner Press, April 2009.
Cover Design by Paul Richmond. http://www.paulrichmondstudio.com
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