Best Laid Plans

by Tinnean

  “In dating him? No way, JT! He’s too old, too short, and way too serious!” Was JT going to call him on his emphatic denial?

  “Too old? He’s only a few years older than you.”

  “But I’ve never gone out with anyone more than a few months older, and most of the time we’re the same age.”

  “That’s true.” He gazed at Tad thoughtfully. “Do you think I’m too short for your father?”

  “God, no. You and Daddy are perfect together.”

  “So you shouldn’t let height, or the lack of it, stand in the way. As for too serious... sometimes people just need someone to help them lighten up.”

  “JT, are you trying to set us up?” I hope, I hope, I hope…

  “No.” He ruffled Tad’s hair again. “God forbid.”

  Well, shoot.

  “I just don’t want you closing off any options. Now. I’m going over to Office Depot to check out the new computer software. Want to come?”

  “You bet. There’s a new game out, and I want to take a look at it.”

  ***

  NOW THAT JT had mentioned Rush’s lack of smiling, Tad noticed it himself. He also noticed the shadows in Rush’s eyes, and that when he did smile, it lit them up, making them appear almost amber in color.

  Tad started looking for ways to make Rush smile.

  From there it was a small jump to finding ways to make him laugh. Rush would look startled, bite his lip, turn pink as he tried to stifle his amusement, but then it would erupt, a snort or a chuckle or once even a guffaw.

  The more he saw of him, the more Tad liked him, even to the point of considering asking him out for a beer. The thing was, Rush was working for Daddy and JT, and if he started something and their... friendship... went nowhere, it would make things difficult all around.

  Besides, Rush still hadn’t come out, not to him at any rate, and so, reluctantly, for the next six months, Tad left him alone.

  ***

  TAD STROLLED into the kitchen to get an apple. Dinner was still a couple of hours away, and—he grinned to himself—he was a growing boy.

  The kitchen wasn’t unoccupied, however. Rush was standing by the sink,

  He was glad he hadn’t bothered to tuck his shirt in; it hid the erection he usually got when he was in Rush’s vicinity.

  Rush had been working out with JT, and he no longer looked “peaked.” He could still use another five or ten pounds, but other than that, he looked damned fine. His ass was tight, his arms nicely muscled, and his package, which Tad would glance at discreetly when they were all swimming in the big pool out back, was enough to make his mouth water.

  Tad enjoyed observing Rush, something he found himself doing whenever he had the opportunity. He’d like nothing better than to tumble Rush into bed—he’d casually mentioned his liking for boys to see Rush’s response, but other than blushing and saying, “Oh, that’s nice,” Rush hadn’t seemed interested.

  Right now there was tension in every line of Rush’s body, and more than one shiver ran through him. Tad didn’t think he was aware that anyone else was in the room.

  He cleared his throat, alerting Rush to the fact he was no longer alone. “Hi, Rush. No classes today?” He took an apple from the basket on the table.

  “Oh!” Rush dropped the spoon he’d been holding, and bent to pick it up. “Oh, uh... Hello, Thaddeus.” He opened the dishwasher and placed the spoon into it before turning around. He was paler than Tad could remember seeing him in quite some time, and he didn’t meet Tadder’s eyes. “Yes, I had classes, but they were in the morning.”

  “What I meant was you don’t usually work on Thursdays.”

  “No, Thursdays are when I hit the library and computer labs, and... but Jan needed this afternoon off and...” Rush was rambling. “... and Mr. Weber said it would be okay if I covered for her.”

  Tad immediately went on the alert. “What’s wrong?”

  Rush finally raised his eyes to Tad—they weren’t amber today, but more a muddy brown—and asked with some bravura, “What makes you think anything is wrong?”

  You mean aside from the fact that there’s a bottle of Pepto Bismol on the counter and you’re rubbing your belly? Aside from the shadows that are back in your eyes? After six months, they’d seemed to be gone, but now they were back.

  “You’ve called Tom ‘JT’ almost from the first day you came to work here.”

  Rush’s surprise was obvious.

  “Hey, just because I’m blond and letter in swimming doesn’t mean I’m a dumb jock. I’m more observant than people give me credit for.” For instance, Rush had called him ‘Thaddeus’ because that was the way JT had introduced them. Tad sighed. What would really be nice was if Rush called him sweetheart or babe or blue eyes... He banished those pet names from his mind. “Tad” would do fine, and he was willing to settle for that.

  “Sorry,” Rush mumbled, red staining his cheeks. He seemed fascinated with a button on his shirt, and if he worried it any more, Tad knew it was going to fall off. “I’m o—”

  “Don’t tell me you’re okay, Rush. I won’t believe you.” He bit into the apple with a noisy crunch.

  “What....” Rush raised startled eyes just as juice ran down Tad’s chin and Tad stuck his tongue out to catch it. Rush’s lips parted, and his own tongue peeked out. Almost as if he wanted to lick up the juice? Rush flushed and looked away, and Tad pretended he hadn’t noticed.

  “I... I did the stupidest thing. I don’t know how I’ll be able to look Mr. Weber in the face again.”

  “What’d you do, screw up an order? It’s no biggie. We’ve all done that.” Tad spoke from experience.

  “No. If it was only that, it wouldn’t be a problem. As you say, everyone’s done it.”

  “You want to talk about it? I’ve got an ear and a shoulder, and I’m willing to lend you both. Or don’t you want to, because I’m a jock and an undergrad?”

  “You really like to play the dumb jock card, don’t you?” Rush’s laugh wasn’t one of the surprised, happy ones that Tad enjoyed hearing. It was choked, and when Rush brought his hand to his face, Tad realized with some dismay that it was to hide the tears in his eyes.

  “Ba—buddy, what’s wrong?”

  “Oh, Jesus, Tadder, I’m so fucked up.”

  Tadder? Oh, he liked that! Could he get Rush to call him that more frequently?

  Tad put his arms around him and held him. A good seven inches taller, he liked the way Rush fit in his arms, liked the warm breath that stroked his skin above the open collar of his shirt, liked the feel of Rush’s hair under his chin.

  “It can’t be that bad.” He was pleased that Rush didn’t seem to be in any hurry to step away from him. In fact—was Rush leaning into him?

  “You wanna bet?”

  “Tell me what happened.” He was really enjoying the feel of Rush in his arms, and he angled his lower body away so Rush wouldn’t know how hard he was.

  “You’re gonna think I’m such a... a wuss, such a baby.” His shoulders slumped, his forehead rested against Tad’s shoulder, and he began rubbing his stomach again.

  “I don’t think so, babe.” Oh, shit. It had slipped out that time. Maybe Rush wouldn’t notice? “C’mon. Spill.”

  “I... I... There was a letter for me in today’s mail.”

  Phew. Rush hadn’t noticed. That was a relief. Wasn’t it?

  “Okay. What does that have to do with JT?”

  “I’m trying to tell you.” The irritation in Rush’s voice relieved Tad. He’d rather hear that than the hopelessness that had been there. “After I read it, I went to the gym. You know how JT and I work out together sometimes?”

  “Sure. I’ve worked out with him plenty of times too.”

  “Yeah, well, I bet you never....” Rush’s posture became stiff, but he still didn’t look at him.
“... never stopped paying attention.”

  Somehow, Tad had the feeling that wasn’t what Rush had intended to say. “We all daydream.”

  “I was spotting him. The weights could have fallen and crushed his head or his chest. He could have been seriously hurt because I was thinking about... something else.” Rush’s gaze skittered away from his.

  “Don’t do it again.” Tad shrugged, and Rush glared up at him and tried to pull free. “I’m not letting you go, so stay put.”

  “Pain in the ass. Think just because you’re the boss’s son and... and tall and gorgeous you can tell me what to do?”

  Rush thought he was gorgeous? Tad leaned down and kissed the tip of his nose, and Rush stopped struggling.

  “What did you do that for?” he asked in astonishment.

  Because I’ve wanted to for ages, although I’d have preferred to lay one on those luscious lips of yours. “To get your attention. I can understand you being pissed with yourself for letting your thoughts wander when they shouldn’t have, but I don’t understand you being so upset you have to take Pepto Bismol for it. Now, come on. Tell Uncle Tadder what’s really bothering you.”

  Rush’s face twisted. “I cried all over Mr. Weber, all right? Like some... some candy-assed punk.”

  “You’re not.” Tad would have smiled at the use of JT’s favorite epithet, but he could see how upset Rush was. Does he expect me to make fun of him for crying? “So you cried on JT’s shoulder. So what? You think Becca and I never have? Even Daddy has at one time or another.”

  “Well, it’s not something you do in my family.” Rush’s voice was barely above a whisper.

  He tipped up Rush’s chin with his thumb. “Want to tell me what was in the letter?”

  Rush looked confused for a second, then his lower lip trembled and he shook his head. In spite of the negative gesture, the words came spilling out. “It was from my mother. My... my oldest brother, Gratton, got engaged.” A flush ran from the collar of his shirt to his hairline, and he glanced away.

  Tad had enough experience with his own relatives to know families could be way weird. He kept his mouth shut and waited to see what else Rush had to say.

  “The party was last weekend.”

  “Why didn’t you go? Daddy and JT would have given you the time off.”

  “I just found out today.” Rush raised his eyes to meet Tad’s, and it physically hurt him to see how much pain was looking out at him. “I wasn’t...” He paused to clear his throat. “Tadder, I wasn’t invited.”

  “Oh, baby.”

  “I understand Mother not telling me until after the fact, but Gratton.... Why didn’t he phone or email me?” A tear rolled down his cheek, and he brushed it away. “I’m sorry. I should be able to… You don’t need to hear this.”

  “Sure, I do, Rush. Don’t you get it? You’re part of this family now.”

  “Thank you, Thaddeus.”

  “Hold on a second. Wasn’t I just Tadder?”

  Rush shook his head. “I shouldn’t have—”

  “I like it, so yes, you should.” He ran his fingertips over Rush’s cheek.

  Rush nodded jerkily and licked his lips. “Tadder. You don’t....” He licked his lips again, and Tad was tempted to lean forward and lick them as well. “I’m sorry; I’m not handling this well.”

  “Well, neither would I, if I’d learned Becca was getting married and I hadn’t been invited.”

  “Oh, I’m invited to the wedding. In fact, it will be a command performance. Father is even going to pay for my tux.”

  “You’re going back to Atlanta?”

  “I guess I’ll have to.”

  “When?”

  “June. Not next year, the year after.”

  “If you want, I’ll go with you. For moral support,” he rushed to conclude. He didn’t want Rush to think he was coming on to him.

  “You’d do that for me, Tadder?”

  “Sure I would. We’re friends, Rush.”

  “We are?”

  Rush clearly needed a hug, and Tad surrendered to his own need. He pulled Rush close and hugged him, pleased that he made no effort to break away. Tad ran his nose along Rush’s cheek and into his hair.

  “I like the shampoo you use.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “It smells nice.”

  “You really like it?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “What....” Rush turned his head, and their lips were a breath apart. “Oh!” Rush’s lashes lowered, concealing his eyes, which were amber now, and he leaned toward Tad.

  The side door slammed. “I’m home!” Becca sang out. “Where is everybody?”

  “Dammit.” Tad swore softly and let Rush go. “I don’t know where Daddy and JT are, Becca,” he called, “but Rush and I are in the kitchen.”

  By the time Becca bounced into the kitchen and dropped her books on to the table, Rush had opened the fridge and was bent over, studying the contents, while Tad was leaning against the table, bringing the apple to his mouth once more. And admiring the curve of Rush’s ass.

  “Phew. What a day. I’m glad it’s over and that I don’t have any classes tomorrow.” She washed her hands and took an apple from the basket. “So, what are you guys up to?”

  “Guy stuff, Becca.”

  Rush straightened, met Tad’s eyes, and blushed.

  Becca noticed. His little sister was sharp as a tack. She shot him a glance, and he returned her look steadily. After a moment, she nodded. In spite of the three year age difference, they had an almost twin-like ability to know what the other was thinking. It had come in handy when they’d lived with Momma in Grandpa Eleazar’s house.

  “Where’s Jan?”

  “She switched days with me.”

  “She wanted to spend the day with her boyfriend?”

  “I guess, although she didn’t say.”

  “Hmm. I’ll give her a call and see if she’s having dinner with us. It’s my turn to cook,” she said. “I think there’s some ground chuck in the fridge.”

  “Yes, there is,” Rush murmured.

  “Okay. Hamburgers or meatloaf, guys, what’s your pleasure?”

  “We’ll have hamburgers at the barbecue tomorrow.” Every Friday Daddy had his work crew break early and come to the ranch for a barbecue. They’d swim in the pool and grill chicken and burgers and hotdogs. “Would meatloaf be too much trouble?”

  “Nope. Meatloaf it is.”

  “Cool. Give a yell when dinner is ready.” Tad closed his fingers around Rush’s wrist—did Rush feel that little electric tingle? From the way his pulse jumped and was pounding under Tad’s fingers, it seemed likely. “Come on. Let’s leave the kitchen to the little woman.”

  “Watch it, hot shot. The ‘little woman’ can put things in your dinner that will make your life miserable.”

  “Hey, you wouldn’t do that to your favorite brother, would you?”

  “Oh, wouldn’t I!”

  “She’s a cruel sister, Rush,” Tad whispered, just loud enough for Becca to hear, and she stuck her tongue out at him. “Okay, you win.”

  “Darn tootin’, I win. And I am not cruel. I just know how to deal with you.” She grinned at them. “You’ve got about an hour until dinner. Go do your guy stuff.”

  “Come on, Rush. Let’s go to my room. Have you ever heard Semisonic? I want you to listen to this CD. It’s their last studio album—All About Chemistry. I think you’ll like it.”

  ***

  RUSH ALWAYS THOUGHT of Tad Jackson as Tadder—his own personal pet name for the tall blond one—but he felt it was more prudent to call him “Thaddeus.”

  At first Rush had thought Tom Weber would be the ideal man on whom to have a crush. He was nice, and he was so in love with Jack Jackson that he’d never realize someone else might be interested i
n him, especially someone as inconsequential as Rush Dalton. JT would never know how Rush felt, and Rush would never have to worry about being rejected.

  But then Becca had seated him across the table from her brother. Rush had looked into those cheerful, uncomplicated blue eyes, and he’d completely forgotten that the plan was to love Tom Weber safely from a distance.

  Rush liked Tadder a lot, but the last thing he wanted the boss’s son to discover was that all it took for Rush to get an erection was a whiff of Tadder’s aftershave or his own natural scent when he’d been working out in the family gym.

  He’d never had a boyfriend, and he knew Tadder was bisexual. Tadder had actually mentioned once that he liked boys. It would have been the ideal opportunity for Rush to seductively murmur, “So do I,” and proceed to ask him out for a beer—no, wine would be more in keeping with seduction—but instead what had he said? “Oh, that’s nice.” He’d blushed too, hadn’t he?

  Oh, yeah. Real seductive. Way to go, Dalton.

  He sighed. While Tadder wouldn’t punch him or call him names if he asked him out, Rush had seen some of the guys he hung with, and there was no way he could measure up to them.

  Tall, blond, and blue-eyed, Tadder was what Rush would have wanted if he could have a single wish, but he knew wishes didn’t come true, not for him at any rate. A cute jock like Tad Jackson wouldn’t want anything to do with a short computer geek like himself who’d wasted time and money on a degree he had no desire for.

  Emmett, his middle brother, always referred to him as the runt of the litter. He said it matter-of-factly, without malice, and had been surprised when Rush became upset. “Not your fault, Shorty. You just don’t have the family looks.”

  And that was true. Hadn’t Father told him as much, stating that it was only his resemblance to his grandmother that kept Father from assuming Mother had had an affair nine months before he’d been born? Father had said it in the heat of an argument, but all that meant was his tongue wasn’t as zealously guarded as it usually was, not that the belief wasn’t lurking in the back of his mind.