Devoted

by Sierra Riley

  Jake was sure he hadn’t heard him correctly. There was no way Russ was casually asking him about his—their—wedding night. But when he looked up again, he saw that spark of mischief in his friend’s eyes. Right. He was joking.

  Not that Jake would have given him a serious answer, since that answer was probably something like: Except for the part where instead of sitting here talking, you push me up against the wall and kiss me like you can’t live without me for another second.

  And it only got more heated from there. Jake had definitely thought about it. Even before he’d come over here, he’d thought about it. The fantasy played in his mind once more. Ryan would be at a friend’s house. Just for the night, so they could be as loud as they wanted. Russ would lead him to the bedroom and push him down onto the bed. He’d use those big, rough hands all over Jake’s body. That smart mouth would be put to way better use, too.

  And Jake would absolutely worship him. He’d never begged for another man to fuck him before, but he knew he’d beg for Russ if that’s what he wanted. And that moment when Russ filled him would be sheer bliss. The cresting of every feeling he’d kept bottled up inside for years.

  But of course it was just a fantasy. Even if it presently made Jake’s pants feel a little too tight, his skin flushed and his collar seem driven to choke him.

  Christ. Russ was staring at him, too. He’d probably just been sitting there, not saying a damn thing for the last few minutes.

  “Not exactly,” he managed, leading his words directly into a throat clear.

  “Hey, it’s cool. I’d have that same reaction imagining me naked, too.”

  For a moment he thought Russ might be torturing him. But that look of mischief remained, and he had to laugh it off as much as possible.

  “It’s the dad bod,” he said, knowing damn well that if Russ had a dad bod, it was a damn good one.

  Russ leaned back in his chair and patted his stomach. Jake almost rolled his eyes. It was still flat, twenty years later.

  “Better have more pizza, then. I might as well own it.” Russ took out a nearly cold piece of pizza, and Jake was thankfully spared from having to answer any more questions about his ideal wedding night.

  That didn’t keep him from thinking about it, though. He must have read the same paragraph five times trying to focus.

  When Russ spoke again, he held his breath. But his friend’s tone was oddly somber. Serious.

  “Jake… why these rings?”

  He looked up, afraid he’d been caught; that somehow Russ could see the chain under his shirt. But no. Russ had his own gold band in his hand. The sight of it made Jake’s heart skip a beat.

  “I know what they mean to you.”

  He should have known that Russ would realize where they were from. Russ had helped him with the search, after all, and had even offered to loan him the money to buy them back from their new owners.

  “It was for a good cause. I thought they deserved to see some actual use. It’s not like I’m doing anything else with them.”

  Russ gave him a look that clearly said knock it off with the self-deprecating shit. But then he turned the ring over in his palm and touched it in a way that Jake would almost describe as reverent if he didn’t know any better.

  “It’s a nice ring.”

  “I want you to keep it.”

  The words fell out of his mouth before Jake even had the chance to gather them back up. At first, he hoped he’d only thought them, but the slight lifting of Russ’s brows told him that definitely wasn’t the case.

  “It’ll be better that way. For our cover. Just in case we need to pretend to be married again.”

  Russ considered the ring, then eased it back onto his finger. Jake’s heart tripped over another few beats. Russ had no idea what this was doing to him. There was no way.

  “I might have to get it resized. I mean, if you think it’s going to come up.”

  “Couldn’t hurt.”

  Yes, it could. It could hurt a lot more than Jake was willing to acknowledge. But he tried to be as casual as possible, hoping and praying Russ would fall back into joking soon. He couldn’t talk about anything real right now. If he did, he was liable to just admit everything.

  Thankfully Russ put the ring away, slipping it back into his pocket. Their conversation turned light again as they finished the paperwork. It was like they were just two friends trying to help each other with their respective problems.

  If not for the cool metal against his chest, he might have been able to believe that.

  13

  Russ

  The day of Ryan’s pre-op appointment, Russ was back to being a nervous wreck.

  Part of it was just the idea of taking Ryan into a hospital. It was a terrifying building, taunting him with the idea that his son was soon going to be unconscious and under the knife; at the mercy of modern medicine. He’d never had anything against it—never understood those people who freaked out about all the things that could go wrong—until now.

  But the other part of it was definitely the fact that Jake wasn’t with him; he’d had a patient come in needing an emergency appendectomy, and he’d stayed with the family when they went to Hamilton just to make the transition easier.

  Russ had thought it would be fine. He didn’t need Jake with him for every little thing. It wasn’t like they were actually married. And while he knew Jake felt absolutely terrible about having to miss it, he really didn’t want to reschedule. He needed to see if Jake’s insurance worked, and, more importantly, the quicker they got this done, the quicker Ryan could get better.

  Unsurprisingly, his son was the picture of calm throughout the whole appointment. Up until the point when the nurse needed to draw blood, at least, but Ryan had been good for that, and the nurse made sure it was quick and relatively painless. After a thorough examination and a few more tests, they were sent back up front.

  Russ had almost reached a state of calm himself. Until the receptionist called out to him.

  “Mr. Callaghan?”

  Shit. His blood froze in his veins. This was it. They’d already found him out. They were going to have him carted off to jail in front of his son.

  “Why don’t you wait for me right outside, bud,” he said, and Ryan was too wrapped up in his tablet to argue.

  Grabbing his wallet, Russ made his way up to the window. The woman that greeted him wore thick, wire-rimmed glasses that looked straight out a Jetsons cartoon.

  “I just want to confirm: Your Blue Ridge profile shows you were just added to this policy this month?”

  “Ah, yeah.” Russ reached up, rubbing his hand through his hair. “I just got remarried at the end of February. I’m on my… husband’s plan.”

  “Congratulations,” she said, in the sort of monotone voice only a woman wearing those glasses could manage.

  “Thanks.”

  Russ was sure he was about to be called out. His bespectacled arbiter was going to push some secret button under her desk and security was going to kindly escort him outside, where a squad car would be waiting.

  But none of that happened. The receptionist went back to squinting at her computer screen. Everyone in the waiting room seemed none the wiser. And Russ was the only one whose heartbeat raced frantically.

  “Your co-pay today will be twenty-five dollars, Mr. Callaghan.”

  He blinked at her. $25? No way he was hearing that right. One of those sheets they put on the exam tables in the hospital was itemized at more than $25. He remembered from scrutinizing every ridiculous thing they’d stuck him and Carrie with when she had her C-section.

  “You’re sure it’s only twenty-five dollars?”

  “I can check your policy again, if you’d like.”

  Shit. No. Best not give her another reason to do that. “No, it’s fine. Do you take Visa?”

  And that was the end of it. He paid the $25, accepted the receipt—which also just listed his co-pay—and managed to escape the hospital without anyone in a blue u
niform coming anywhere near him.

  But he hadn’t made it two steps out the door before another problem cropped up. His phone rang, and he answered it before checking the number. It was a bad habit, but so few people ever called him that it couldn’t be anything crazy.

  Motioning for Ryan to wait, he held the phone up to his ear. “Hello?”

  “So you aren’t held up in a hospital bed or stuck in a jail cell or something.”

  It took him a moment to place the voice. “Carter?”

  Carter had been… more of an acquaintance than anything else. He’d met the man in one of his undergrad classes. They’d done projects together, but he wasn’t exactly the most interesting person to hang out with. His idea of fun tended to be a spontaneous flash card quiz on the philosophies of nineteenth-century economists.

  “Not last I checked,” he said, glancing behind him to the closing doors of the hospital.

  No need to explain what was going on with Ryan. They weren’t that close. Frankly, he wasn’t sure he’d even spoken to Carter since Carrie had died and he’d sent his condolences.

  “So there was no good reason for you to exclude me from your wedding.”

  Russ’s brow creased. What the hell was he talking about? “You were at my wedding, Carter.”

  He’d been in the wedding party, which didn’t turn out to be that great an idea. Carter wasn’t exactly known for his ability to plan a stag party. Or any party. Thankfully Jake had come through in the clutch there, too.

  “Your second wedding, man. To Jake!”

  Russ almost dropped his phone. His palms were suddenly slick with sweat, and it took quick reflexes to grab his phone before it just plummeted to the ground.

  He didn’t realize he was standing in the middle of the ambulance bay—right in the way of oncoming traffic—until Ryan said something.

  “Dad?”

  “Is that Ryan? Put him on, I want to talk to him.”

  “He’s not feeling great,” Russ said curtly, trying to redirect Carter’s attention. He gave Ryan an apologetic look that was met with a shrug before he let his son lead him safely toward the garage. “How did you hear about that?”

  “It’s in the Tribune. Lifestyles section. Apparently you and Jake were the two-hundredth gay couple to get married in Franklin County. I’d say I didn’t see that one coming, but come on.”

  It took Russ’s brain exponentially more time to catch up after each new piece of information. His name was in the paper. Along with Jake’s. And anyone who read it would see. There wasn’t any mistaking it. Fuck. He had to get his hands on that paper right now to see exactly what it said. Maybe there was a way to just brush it off as a misprint or something.

  He caught up with the casually spoken tail-end of Carter’s comment. A tail-end that wasn’t over, apparently.

  “—knew you guys probably hooked up during college. I mean who doesn’t, right? But I had no idea it would last.”

  Russ felt an immediate urge to leap through the phone and punch Carter in his CFO-of-a-multi-million-dollar-company face. It wasn’t that he assumed Russ had indulged in a little bi-curiosity with Jake. Hell, he’d strongly considered it, and after that kiss, he was afraid those feelings were still there.

  But it was the way Carter said it that got to him. Like it was just some casual thing; two guys using each other to get off.

  When he realized that’s what he was most angry about out of all of this, though, he had to take a step back.

  “Yeah, look. Thanks for calling. I’d appreciate it if you don’t spread the word though, okay? We’re…” Shit. He had to think of something. Fast. “We wanted to wait to do it properly in the spring. When, uh… when his grandmother could come out.”

  If Russ was a religious man, he might have signed a cross over his chest. Hopefully Evelyn Larson wasn’t looking down on him right now, ready to smite his ass for bringing her into this lie.

  “Well make sure my invitation doesn’t get lost in the mail, okay?”

  “Yeah. Of course. You’ll be first on my list.” He looked toward Ryan, who seemed absorbed in his tablet still. When they reached the car, his son got in without any fuss. At least he wouldn’t have to explain all of this to him. “Listen, Carter, I’d love to catch up, but Ryan and I have to get back home. Talk to you later, man. Tell Denise I said hi.”

  He didn’t wait for a response, though he heard Carter start to give one right before he hung up. Half-slumping against the car, Russ let out a long sigh.

  He was so fucked.

  Opening up the door, he slid into the driver’s seat and turned to make sure Ryan was buckled in.

  “What’s happening in the spring?”

  Yep. He was completely fucked.

  14

  Jake

  “So. Care to tell me what the fuck this is about?”

  In all the years Jake had known her, Lynn had always sworn like a sailor. Just never out in the open where underage ears could hear her. So the fact that she did so in the middle of the hall while he was looking over preliminary lab results already set Jake’s nerves on edge.

  Since that day at the courthouse, he’d tried to play it cool. Lynn hadn’t asked him about the DMV—because who the hell wanted to talk about the DMV—and he’d gone about his days like nothing in the world had changed.

  Even if a tiny thing like his marital status technically had.

  But that still didn’t keep him from worrying that somehow Lynn would find out. She seemed to have this uncanny ability to spot his bullshit from a mile away, and if she’d ever had cause to be alarmed, it would be now. Even still, he expected that worry to be washed away in a flood of tremor-inducing adrenaline when he realized she was talking about something else.

  Instead, she held out a copy of the Tribune, and he found himself completely confused.

  “The Lifestyles section? I’m pretty sure it’s supposed to be…” He read from the headline that filled the top margin, “A slice of life in your backyard.”

  Wow. That was worse than he thought.

  “Read the article.”

  He’d never heard that tone before. She was angry. Pissed. But there was something else, too. He couldn’t identify it, and when he glanced up at her, the look on her face wasn’t doing him any favors, either. He looked back at the paper and skimmed the headline.

  Franklin County Celebrates 200th Gay Marriage Ceremony.

  Oh, no.

  Oh, fuck.

  This was bad. It was the exact opposite of low-key. If news of their marriage had somehow made it into the paper…

  He skimmed a few lines, Russ’s name standing out to him immediately. Right beside his own.

  Fuck.

  Oh, God. He was so screwed.

  He felt the blood drain from his face, his mouth suddenly dry, his throat scratchy. He gaped at Lynn, and found no sympathy in her gaze. Just a steely glare that cut right through him.

  “I can explain. Just… not here.”

  He nearly choked on the words, and wasn’t even able to feign a smile when one of the nurses walked by the two of them, giving them a strange look. He and Lynn never fought. Their office had always been relatively free of workplace drama.

  He had a feeling that was going to change today.

  “Pick a room.”

  Her voice was deadly serious. Gone was the biting wit she used with him or the tender care she used with patients. This was a Lynn he hadn’t seen before.

  He didn’t dare try to put it off for later, even though he knew he had patients waiting on him. Better to get this over with now than to have it hanging over his head like the blade of a guillotine.

  There was no chart on the door of Exam One, so he led Lynn into the room and closed the door behind him. Once they were tucked away—or, more likely, once Lynn realized he wasn’t going to bolt—her expression softened.

  But only just.

  “Please tell me there’s a reason for this. Tell me you’ve just been stringing me along and, ac
tually, you and Russell were going at it this whole time.”

  “You know I can’t tell you that,” he said, already squirming under her intense scrutiny.

  “He’s dying. He has some terminal illness and Ryan will end up going to the state without your intervention.”

  “Jesus, no.”

  “Then tell me what the reason is, because I know you must have a damn good one to do something as crazy as this.”

  He had a reason. At the time, it had seemed like a good one. But when he forced the words through his mind—rehearsed them to see how they might sound—they came across as absolutely ridiculous.

  What else could he say, though? He’d dug this grave for himself. There was no sense trying to cover it up now.

  “Russ would’ve gone bankrupt trying to pay for Ryan’s surgery. So I… added them to my insurance.”

  She sat down in a way that suggested her legs had just stopped working, folding out from under her suddenly. Lynn stared straight ahead, her lips slightly parted, a look of utter disbelief on her face.

  Jake almost preferred to see her angry. Staring at him. Yelling at him. Anything but this.

  “I don’t even know where to start,” she finally said, reaching up to press two fingers to her temple.

  Jake could empathize. He felt a headache coming on, as well.

  “We were going to get it annulled right after the surgery. A month at most. It wasn’t supposed to be public. I told him it wouldn’t go public.”

  She let out a soft, disbelieving laugh, then finally met his gaze. The anger was sapped from her expression. Now she fixed him with something worse: pity.

  “Christ, J. This must be killing you.”

  Of all the things he expected her to say, that definitely didn’t make the list. Maybe later on, when he was licking his wounds and limping along, trying to deal with the fact that even his sham marriage was over.

  But not now.

  “You’re not going to tell me how stupid this is? That I could go to…” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Go to jail for insurance fraud?”