by Sean Michael
He got up and moved to the TV, grabbing the remote and tossing it back on the mattress. “What do you want? Action?”
“If there are explosions, we’ll have to move her.”
He wasn’t sure moving her was going to be a good idea. It would leave them alone.
“We could watch a black-and-white.” His one weakness—Eric was the only one who knew of his soft spot for the golden age of Hollywood.
“I would love that.”
The funny thing was, Brock knew Eric meant it.
He put in Top Hat and went back to the bed, ready to watch Fred and Ginger as he and Eric had done more nights than he could remember. He slid in next to Eric, who relaxed against him. He put his arm around Eric’s shoulders, refusing to think about what this might mean.
Chapter Eight
BROCK SLID his suits into his bag, adding a few pairs of underwear and some socks. Four shirts and his swimming trunks and he was basically packed for the short business trip he had to go on. He checked his briefcase: the Trussle file, the Branson file, the… wait, where were the Pruitt file and the catalog mock-up?
He growled and searched his bedroom, then the dining room and the kitchen. No luck. Fuck.
He could hear Eric in the bathroom, showering with Mark’s help, the stitches finally removed. Had he had the files in the bathroom? He’d check in there after Eric was done.
“Daddy Bee!” Josie came out of her room, waving brightly colored papers in one hand, the nanny packing to go for the day. “I drawed for you!”
“You did?” He could plaster the walls with the pictures Josie’d done for him, but he always made sure she felt like that latest ones were the best. “Let me see.”
She handed the papers over, telling him about what was on there, but he didn’t hear her.
His file.
His file, covered in crayon.
“What did you do? Damn it, Josie, you’ve ruined my work!”
Her flow of words stopped, eyes staring up at him. “I drawed.”
“On my files!” He grabbed them from her and shook them in front of her face. “This is important and you’ve ruined it!”
Those big eyes filled with tears and she stumbled back. “Daddy….”
“Sir?” The nanny walked out. “Is something wrong?”
He shook the files in the nanny’s face. “What’s wrong with you? Couldn’t you see these were important papers? How could you let her have them?”
“Daddy!” Josie ran to the bathroom door, little fists pounding on it. “Daddy! Daddy!”
“Oh, God. I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t notice. I was cleaning up.”
The bathroom door opened, Eric’s red-cheeked face appearing. “Josie?”
“Daddy!” She pushed in, clinging to his leg and sobbing.
Guilt warred with anger and he flung the files down, striding off before he yelled again.
It didn’t take but a few minutes before Eric was there in a bathrobe, holding a sniffling little girl’s hand. “What do you say, Jo?”
“S… s… sorry.”
“And?”
“I p’omise. No draws on papers at Bee’s house. No more.” The tears started again, Josie’s thumb going in her mouth.
“I’m sorry, too, Brock. Can I pay to have more copies delivered somewhere?”
He rubbed his face. God, he was the biggest heel in the fucking world, making that sweet girl cry. “Don’t be stupid. I’ll call Stephanie—I’m sure she’s got copies. It’s okay, Josie. As long as you don’t do it again.”
She shook her head, hiding behind Eric’s legs.
“She won’t. We’ve talked. I’m sorry; I should have kept a closer eye.” Right. Because after getting seventy some-odd stitches out of his chest, Eric was feeling fabulous.
“I shouldn’t have yelled, I just….” He rubbed the back of his neck. He was more stressed than usual over this trip; he wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t anything complicated or unusual.
“It’s cool, Brock. Josie, go get a book and sit on your bed. I’ll read to you in a minute.”
The little dark head bobbed, then big black eyes stared at him a second. “No draws. No more. Josie is a good girl.” Then she ran back down the hall.
“What can I do to help, man?”
“I don’t know—is there anything to get this horrible guilty feeling to go away?” Those dark eyes were lethal.
“Not that I know of.” Eric winked at him, then sighed. “I am sorry. She didn’t mean to ruin them. She’s just too young to understand.”
“I know. I just reacted. Does she hate me now?”
“No. She’s afraid you’ll never love her again.”
“Oh, baby, I was mad at her for ruining the files, I never stopped caring about her.”
“I know that, turkey, but I’m not three.”
“Right.” Man, this dealing with kids thing was hard. He really admired Eric for his stamina and patience, for doing it all on his own. “Should I go talk to her?” And whoa; he was more worried about whether or not Josie was upset than he was about getting his file replaced before he headed to the airport.
“She’d love that, but if you don’t want to, I understand.”
“I don’t want her to think I hate her.”
He made himself stop and call Stephanie first, arranging to have the file delivered to his hotel room by 8:00 a.m. Then he pocketed his cell phone and headed for Josie’s room, feeling like the big bad wolf.
Josie was in her room, holding her baby doll and sniffling, rocking it back and forth. When he walked in, she shook her head. “No draw. Holding baby! Josie is a good girl!”
He crouched down in front of her. “I can see that. Look, what you did was wrong, but I’m sorry I yelled at you. I’m sorry.”
“I sorry. No more draws at Bee’s house, ’kay?” The tears started again, and she hugged her baby tighter.
She was just about going to kill him with those tears. “Oh, honey, you can still draw. Just ask first, okay? When I get back from my trip, I’ll buy you some paper just for drawing on, okay?” Please stop crying.
“Josie paper? Just for me?” She scooted closer, reached for him with one hand. “Bee goes bye-bye?”
He gathered her up and sat on the bed with her in his arms. “Yeah. I have a business meeting. I have to catch a plane in a couple of hours. It’s not for long, and when I get back I promise to get special Josie paper—just for you.”
She was stiff for about three seconds, then she cuddled in, holding on tight. “No be mad, Daddy Bee. Please. Come home.”
“I’m not going away because I’m mad, honey. I have to talk to some men about money. I’m not mad, I promise.”
“Love you.” The words were sure, fingers clutching his shirt.
He held her tight. “I love you, too,” he whispered.
She nodded, then kissed his cheek. “Daddy Bee.”
“Yeah.”
Was it wrong of him to hope that they never caught that last kidnapper, so he had an excuse to keep Eric and Josie here indefinitely?
He looked over her head at Eric, who stood in the doorway watching them, lean and tousled and fine.
It didn’t matter; he could come up with another excuse.
Chapter Nine
THE BUSINESS meeting had gone well, and he was just wrapping it up with a dinner with the CEO and CFO of the company and their wives. It was fancy and expensive and on their dime, which made it even better.
He couldn’t wait for tomorrow, though, when he got to fly home. It had been a short business trip as business trips went, but for once he was longing to be back at home. He imagined it had something to do with a certain little princess and her daddy.
His phone buzzed, indicating a text message. When he looked, it was from Eric. B. Someone is missing you. If you have time, call her? If not, see you tomorrow. E. He smiled. Josie was missing him.
Mrs. Abney leaned over and grinned. “That must be a good message.”
“It is, yea
h. I need to make a call, though. I hope you can excuse me for a few minutes.”
She laughed and waved her hand. “Go on, the boys won’t even notice you’re gone now that they’re into the golf scores.”
He headed out to the vestibule and hung a right into the hall where the restrooms were. There was a little bench and a potted plant. He sat down and dialed home.
Eric answered on the second ring. “Hello?”
“Hey, baby.”
“Oh, hey, Bee. I hope I didn’t bother you. She’s just really upset.”
“No, that’s fine. We were having a celebratory dinner. She really misses me that much?”
“She’s been asking about you all day. She’s scared you got taken.” Eric sighed.
“Oh, man. I guess there are repercussions from that, huh? Put her on.”
“Jo! Jo, Bee called for you.”
“Daddy Bee? Daddy Bee!” He could hear the shrieks of joy.
A warm feeling squeezed around his heart. He was grinning like a fool.
“Daddy Bee! Come home! Come home! Josie is waiting!”
He chuckled. “Hey, honey. I’m going to be home tomorrow.”
“Tomorrowday? P’omise? I miss you. We’s lonesome.”
God, she was cute. “I promise, honey. So your daddy is lonely, too?”
“Uh-huh. His belly hurts.”
“It does?” He frowned. “What happened? Did he do something to it?”
“I dunno. You want to hear a song?” She started singing.
He chuckled and sat back as her little voice regaled him. The song was random and tuneless and seemed to involve him and Eric and a kitten named Screwy or Louis or something.
He listened until she was done. “That was really nice, honey. I’m going to say good night now, since it’s probably time for you to get ready for bed. Can I speak to your daddy again?”
“Uh-huh. Love you, Daddy Bee. See you tomorrowday.”
“See you, honey.” Christ, that was sweet.
The phone changed hands, and then Eric’s voice sounded. “She’s all smiles. Thank you.”
“Hey, I’m smiling, too.” Grinning, in fact. And then he remembered why he’d wanted to speak to Eric. “Hey, baby, what’s wrong with your belly?”
“Jack called. The baby’s on the way. He’s tickled.”
“That’s nice.” Jack had what? Twelve kids? Thirteen? “What’s wrong with your belly?”
“Huh? Oh. My incisions are bruised from where they took the stitches out. They look gross.”
“Are you in pain?”
“It aches more than hurts. Itches. I. Brock, they haven’t found Tim McCarthy yet, but last night, his grandfather was attacked.”
“Shit. Do they think it was Tim?” He looked at his watch. He bet he could catch a flight home tonight if he cut the rest of this dinner short.
“I don’t know. I just don’t.” Eric’s voice lowered. “I kept Jo in today, just in case. You think I’m being a worrywart?”
“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean you’re not right. You let the security guys know, right?” He was definitely finding a flight back tonight.
“I did. I feel silly, but… I’m not strong enough to fight a hyped-up kid.”
“Nobody’s strong enough to fight a gun, baby. You let security protect you. I’ve got to go—I’ll see you tonight.”
“You mean tomorrow, love. Have a good night.” Eric was chuckling softly as the line went dead.
He only meant tomorrow if Eric was asleep when he got home.
He called up Stephanie, even as he made his way back to the table to make his apologies to his hosts.
IT WAS just past 1:00 a.m. when he finally got home.
Brock stepped off the elevator and nodded to Sergei, their night security guard, who offered him a tight smile.
“Any problems?”
“All quiet, sir.”
“Cool.” He opened the door and let himself in. The apartment was quiet but changed. There was a little jacket hanging from a doorknob. The hospital bed was there but empty. He peeked into Josie’s room, shaking his head at the sight of Eric there beside her, lying on the floor, sound asleep.
He went in and looked down at Josie for a long moment, smiled. Then he crouched next to Eric, hand going to one shoulder to gently wake him.
Eric’s eyes fluttered open. “I. Bee?”
“Who were you expecting?”
“No one. No one at all. Is everything okay?’
“Yeah, it’s all good. Come on to bed.”
He helped Eric up, and they headed into the bedroom, like it was the most natural thing in the world to do. He helped Eric into bed and then stripped down to his boxers and slid beneath the covers.
“You have a good trip?” Eric stared at him.
He found himself turning onto his side so he could see Eric’s face comfortably. “Yeah, it went well.”
“Cool. Jo was pretty good, until tonight. I talked to my principal, Charles. He has me on leave for the rest of the school year.”
“That’s good. You’re going to need the time to recover, let alone anything else. What set Josie off tonight?”
“I think she was reading my stress, and she saw the bruises and incisions for the first time. That scared her.”
He reached out and slid Eric’s T-shirt up, wincing. “Wow, that’s…. Yeah.”
“Ugly, huh?” Eric sighed, hand sliding over the scars.
“It’s not pretty, baby, that’s for sure. I can only imagine what it must look like to Josie.”
Eric nodded and pulled his shirt down. “I’m like Frankenstein’s monster.”
“Only you’re actually alive.”
“He was alive, wasn’t he?” Eric grinned at him, winked.
“It’s one in the morning and I am not debating Mary Shelley with the English teacher, thank you very much.”
They used to, though. They used to stay up until all hours of the night talking about anything and everything—books, movies, plays, politics.
“Coward.” Eric chuckled, reached out and touched his cheek.
He smiled and nuzzled into the touch.
“God, you’re beautiful,” Eric murmured.
He chuckled at that. “You’re maybe a little biased. And possibly stoned. And you have this thing for Italian guys.” Some of the antipain drugs they had Eric on made him fairly loopy.
“No. No. You’re just… fuck, Brock.”
“That’s right, baby. I’m just Brock.”
“I want you to know, I’m sorry we broke up. I’m not sorry about Josie, I never will be, but I’m sorry we aren’t… us. Anymore.”
“Me, too. Don’t be surprised. There hasn’t been anyone since you.” Lots of fucking, no loving.
“No? I haven’t… I mean, I’m a single dad, you know?”
Brock chuckled. “Yeah, I can see how having a kid puts a crimp in your dating life.”
Eric muttered something he didn’t quite hear.
“What was that?”
“It doesn’t matter, man.” He thought he could feel the heat of Eric’s blush.
“It’s almost two in the morning, baby. That’s secrets-sharing time. Spill.”
“I wanted you, you know? If there were offers, they weren’t the right ones.”
He wasn’t surprised to hear there were offers. Eric was a catch, he knew that. “You deserve the best. So does that little girl.”
“I want you.”
“That’s those drugs talking again.”
Eric gave him a soft little smile, kissed his forehead. “Sleep well, Bee. You look tired.”
“So do you.” He reached up and stroked Eric’s cheek.
“I bet. Jo will be tickled to see you in the morning.”
“You’re going to rest, right? Sleep? I came home because I was worried about you guys.” He yawned, the travel starting to catch up with him.
“Uh-huh. Gonna watch you for a little while.”
Brock snorted, already half-a
sleep. “Watch me.” He snorted again.
“Yeah. I know. I’m stupid. Humor me.”
He reached out and patted Eric’s shoulder. “Sleep, baby.”
“You, too, Bee. You, too.”
THE ONLY warning he got was an excited squeal that half woke him from sleep, and then something small but heavy with pointy elbows and knees landed on his stomach. Brock groaned, arms going automatically to wrap around Josie even as his knees and shoulders drew up from the hit he’d taken.
He grunted something that might have been “Don’t do that” or “Good morning.” He wasn’t sure he cared which.
“Daddy Bee! My daddy Bee!” Kisses peppered his face, little hands on his cheeks.
He chuckled and blinked his eyes open, looking into Josie’s dark eyes really close up. “Hey, honey.”
“Good morning!” She laughed happily. “Missed you. Missed you so bad.”
He gave her a big hug. “I missed you, too. I didn’t know I could miss anyone as much as I missed you.” It was true, too. She was something special.
She started talking to him, telling him about this and that—he only understood about 70 percent, but that didn’t matter. What mattered was that smile.
He reached out and found Eric’s hand, squeezed it.
Eric squeezed back, so warm and right there. “Hey, Jo.”
“Daddy! Daddy Bee home!”
“He is.” Eric chuckled and patted her back.
“I am. And I’m taking the day off. Do you think we should ask Daddy if he feels up to going out for pancakes?”
“Pancakies!”
He turned to smile at Eric. “Are you up to it?”
“Absolutely. Jo, go pick out clothes.”
She nodded and kissed his cheek, then toddled off.
“You’re sure, right? You’re not going to faint taking the elevator or anything?”
“I promise. No fainting. Besides, we have to stop in and see if there’s a new baby.”
“Okay, we’ll go, then.” At least to breakfast. He hoped security was in the mood for pancakes.
Eric nodded and slid out of bed, heading for the hallway. Jesus, the man had to have lost ten pounds, easy.