David, Renewed

by Diana Copland

  “So, do we have a deal?” Beverley held her hand out to Jackson and waited. After what seemed a long time, and David wondered if he’d ever get used to the lengthy pauses, Jackson took her hand and shook it.

  “Excellent!” Beverley smiled at him, clearly pleased. “What time do you start work in the morning so I know when to be here?” They settled on seven forty-five.

  “David.” His mother stood and pushed her chair in. She scooped up the canvas bags the food had come in and held them out. “Take these out to the car, will you please? I’m going to put the bowls in the dishwasher, and I’ll be right behind you.”

  “Beverley, seriously, I can load the dishwasher,” Jackson protested.

  “I’m sure you can, and no doubt you’ll get the opportunity to quite a bit in the next few weeks.” She gave him a pointed look. “For right now I thought you’d rather walk my son to his car.”

  David felt a surge of embarrassment at his mother’s forwardness. He loved her, but honestly. “Maybe he doesn’t want to.”

  “No, actually.” A smile curled Jackson’s lips. “He really wants to. Thank you, Beverley.”

  She smiled at him sweetly. “You’re more than welcome, Jackson.”

  Jackson caught David’s free hand, pulling him up from the table, then through the doorway into the living room. “My jacket,” David said as they walked by, and Jackson didn’t even pause, just grabbed it from the back of a chair, tossed it over his broad shoulder, and pulled David out through the front door.

  When they got to the red car in the driveway, he opened the door to the backseat and tossed in the padded carrying bags.

  “Are you cold?” Jackson pushed the door closed.

  “A little,” David admitted. Actually he was a lot cold. The temperature had plummeted with the sun and now their breath made soft clouds of condensation around their heads. Jackson held up David’s jacket, waiting. Charmed by the courtly gesture, David slipped his arms into the sleeves. He hadn’t even settled the heavy fabric on his shoulders when Jackson gripped his arms and turned him.

  David’s eyes widened when Jackson grabbed the open front of his jacket, pulling him in until they were pressed together.

  “I don’t know what I’d have done today without you.” Jackson’s voice was rough.

  David searched the handsome face so close to his. “I can’t imagine not being here. You needed someone.”

  Jackson slowly shook his head. “Not just someone. You. I needed you.”

  Jackson bracketed David’s face with his hands and his palms felt warm against David’s cheeks. He leaned forward and kissed David, a sweet, smooth brush of lips. Then he leaned back, staring into David’s eyes, and he must have found what he was looking for because the next kiss was anything but sweet. Jackson pulled him in, angling his mouth over David’s in a kiss both firm and unmistakably carnal, and David let his eyes drift shut. He leaned into the firm body and opened his mouth when Jackson’s tongue pressed insistently against his lips. He let him in on a welcoming sigh.

  Jackson’s tongue tasted of italian wedding soup, but the homey flavor mingled with something else, something that was Jackson’s alone. David responded to it, chasing the flavors through the warm heat of Jackson’s mouth, and when he caught David’s tongue and sucked on it, David’s knees went weak. Jackson encircled him with his arms and pressed David’s back against the car. Jackson’s coiled strength and heat pressed into his body and his heart began to pound hard. One of Jackson’s knees slid between his legs and he whimpered when Jackson lifted his muscled thigh and pressed it against his balls.

  The screen door slammed loudly and Jackson jerked back, ending the kiss abruptly. David looked up into his eyes, his breath short and his cock aching as Jackson gathered himself and stepped back reluctantly. David managed, with difficulty, to straighten where he stood, glaring at his mother as she calmly walked down the curved brick walkway.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow,” Jackson murmured, then turned to Beverley. “I’ll see you in the morning, Beverley.”

  “Oh yes, you will.” She reached out and patted his arm as she passed, then she was standing before David where he still leaned against the car trying to gather himself. She looked up at him, her head cocked to one side. “You plan on driving, dear? Because the steering wheel is in the front seat.”

  Beverley walked around the car to get in on the passenger side, and Jackson gave him a wry smile as he held David’s gaze. David couldn’t help but return his smile, and he didn’t notice the passing of time or the cold or anything at all. Until his mother beeped the car’s horn.

  David jumped at the sound and Jackson chuckled.

  “She’s not that funny,” David muttered.

  “Oh, I don’t know.” Jackson dropped his hands into his pockets. “She’s pretty funny.”

  “Don’t ever let her hear you say that. I have to live with it.”

  Jackson’s teeth flashed white in the light from his porch, and regretfully David opened the door to the car and got in, when what he wanted to do was climb inside of Jackson’s shirt and stay there.

  “I wondered if you planned to go. Or if you were going to let me sit here all night.”

  David gritted his teeth, started the car, and backed out of the driveway. Beverley waved brightly to the tall, slender man who lifted one hand in farewell.

  “I’d have stood in the living room a little longer, David, but it looked like things were about to get out of hand in the driveway, which wouldn’t have done Jackson any good in this neighborhood.”

  “You were watching us?” He ignored the fact his voice had gone up at least an octave. “Jesus, Mom!”

  “Well, honey, there were only two bowls. It didn’t take that long to load the dishwasher.” She sent him a grin. “It does look like the boy knows his way around a kiss.”

  David thought he must be glowing in the dark, his face was so hot. “I am not discussing this with you.”

  She smirked as he drove her home.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  DAVID HAD just dropped into his desk chair when a soft knock sounded on his office door. It had been another hellish, pointless day, and he wanted to hide and ignore it. He was relieved when he saw it was Michael, who closed the door as he came in. Collapsing in one of the chairs facing David’s desk, Michael hooked one long leg over the arm. He was wearing designer jeans and a V-neck sweater, the sleeves pushed up on his slender arms, and he looked casually elegant. But then, Michael always did.

  “Please tell me we’re going to stop using Conderson’s,” he said, referring to a very tardy furniture manufacturer. “This is the third time, David.”

  “I know.” David leaned back in his chair. “But I didn’t pick them. The client did.”

  “Can we gently suggest someone else next time? Or pull their photos out of the sales book? Something? Because we’re the one left holding the bag when they can’t deliver.”

  “I know we have to do something. I can’t keep making excuses for them.” David pressed his fingers into his temples where a headache brewed. “I’ve got to tell you, Michael. We keep having more and more days like this. I’m getting to the point where I’d rather be doing almost anything else.” David had never said it out loud, but it was true, truer by the day.

  Michael linked his hands around his knee, his expression pensive. “All I have to say is if you ever decide you’re leaving, you need to take me with you.”

  “But if I left, you’re next in line for department head.”

  Michael grimaced. “And do it without you? No, thank you.” He gave David a searching look. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

  David stared at his blotter. So many things in his life were changing. Financially it was probably the very worst time to be considering a career change. But for his peace of mind, and his life?

  “I won’t lie to you. It’s tempting.”

  “Yeah,” Michael replied, his eyes beginning to shine. “But you do have to eat.”

>   David smirked. “Well, there is that.” David’s cell phone buzzed, and when he picked it up, he felt a surge of pleasure when he recognized the number. He scooped the phone up with a bright smile.

  “Oh my God, look at that smile.” Michael gave him a crooked grin.

  “You hush,” David scolded, and his ears were hot. He pressed an icon on the screen. “Hello?”

  “Hey.”

  Just the one word in Jackson’s deep voice had chills dancing over David’s shoulders. He smothered a happy sigh. “Hi.”

  “Sorry to call you at work….”

  “No, it’s fine. I’d so much rather talk to you than the other people I’ve had to deal with today.”

  “I think I’m offended,” Michael said in a stage whisper. David flipped him off.

  “I have a couple of things I wanted to touch base on.”

  “Okay.” David knew he sounded breathless. The more Jackson talked, the more David wanted to drive home, climb in his back pocket, and live there.

  “I have some guys who can get to that roof patch this weekend, if it’s okay with you.”

  “That’s fine. I’m delighted I don’t have to replace the whole thing.”

  “I knew you’d like that part.” Jackson was smiling, and David could hear it in his voice. “Manny’s also available on Saturday to put a camera through the pipe to the street to see if there’s a break in that line. We don’t want to wait on that. If they have to dig it up, it needs to be done before the ground freezes. That way you can start showering at home.”

  “That would be nice,” David answered. He had to get up forty minutes early in order to run over and shower at his mom’s. She didn’t mind, but heading out at six thirty when the temperatures were in the low thirties was no fun.

  “Oh, and if you wanted to hire Gil to paint, now would be a good time.” Jackson paused, another of those weighted pauses David had come to expect. “He’d been hired to paint a house out in the valley.” His voice went soft, but there was something faintly off in it. “The owners pulled out of the job at the last minute. It was a big contract too. He’s lost a couple of grand. It’s not so hard on Gil, but it really hurts Vern when they lose the labor.”

  “Why did the owners pull out?” David frowned. There was something Jackson wasn’t saying; David could hear it.

  “Gil’s not positive,” Jackson answered, “but he thinks it might have something to do with the rainbow-flag decal on his truck’s bumper.”

  “Seriously?”

  “You know how it is, David.” Jackson didn’t need to elaborate for David to interpret what he was hearing in his voice. He’d lost jobs for the same reason, and David clenched his teeth.

  “Yeah, well, it’s crap.”

  “What’s crap?” Michael whispered, a frown between his brows. David held up his hand and Michael subsided but remained watchful.

  “The people paid for the paint,” Jackson went on. “But Gil lost all of the profit on the labor.”

  “Well, their loss is my gain.” David forced a bright note into his voice. “I’d love for him to get started at my place.”

  “He can bring paint chips by this evening, if you like.”

  “That would be perfect.”

  “I’ll let him know.” Another silence stretched out and David forced himself to wait. It wasn’t easy. His first instinct was to fill the silences with mindless chatter; it’s what he’d always done when he felt nervous. Jackson had taught him to wait. “Are you sure you can do that right now?”

  “What, have Gil paint? Yeah, it’s fine.”

  “As long as it’s not going to cause you a budgeting problem.”

  “No, it’s fine. Do you need any more…?”

  “No, so far we’re good.” There was a weight to this hesitation. “Am I going to get to see you today?” His voice dropped even further into an intimate timbre that instantly made David’s cock twitch and his balls feel heavy. He caught his breath, his pulse beginning to race at the base of his throat. “I told your mom I’d be home by six, and I know that’s kind of early for you….”

  “It isn’t. I can leave here at five.”

  Michael’s brows shot up and his smirk deepened.

  “That’s good.” Jackson all but purred, and David swallowed heavily. If he said much more in that deep, rough voice, David wasn’t going to be able to stand up without embarrassment. “See you then.”

  “See you.”

  David hung up, taking a deep breath and trying to get his erratic heartbeat into a normal rhythm.

  “God, you’ve got it bad.”

  He looked up at Michael, a quick denial springing to his lips. But he couldn’t say it, because it was true: he did have it bad. It had gone too quickly, and he should know better, but there it was.

  “I’m so screwed,” he said instead, laying his forehead heavily on his desk. “What am I doing?” A moment later he felt a soft touch on the back of his head.

  He lifted it and found himself looking into Michael’s face as he leaned forward over David’s desk.

  “Following your heart.” Michael let his hand drop away, a small smile on his face. “Maybe this time, it’ll be worth it.”

  David sighed. “God, I hope so.”

  Michael gave him a hopeful look. “Me too.”

  DAVID DROVE to his house, breathless excitement thrumming through his veins.

  There had been a few raised eyebrows when he walked out at five, but Michael told everyone else they were getting out on time for a change. David hadn’t even looked back, just headed out of the building and to his car with a spring in his step that hadn’t been there in a very long time.

  Rush hour traffic was heavy and even though he only lived ten miles from downtown, it took him close to twenty-five minutes until he was turning onto his street. He braked for some kids playing basketball and waved to Jordyn, who was walking down the sidewalk pushing a stroller, Bootsy trotting along at her side. He gave one happy bark when he saw David waving, and David liked to think the little dog recognized him. Then there was Jackson’s truck parked in front of his house, and he pulled into his driveway, his heart drumming rapidly at the base of his throat.

  The makeshift workstation wasn’t in the driveway when David parked in front of the garage. He stepped out of the warmth of his car and a cold wind lifted his hair and chilled his cheeks. Fall had arrived in earnest and the temperatures were in the high forties. He hurried up his front steps and tried the knob, grateful to find the door unlocked. Warmth brushed his face and he closed the door behind him, leaning against it.

  Gil’s dad’s elegant furniture gave David a rush of pleasure, and he noticed immediately the discordant note in the room was gone; the ugly recliner was missing from its place near the wall.

  “Hi.”

  David looked up to find Jackson leaning casually against the wall between his living room and dining room, arms crossed over his chest and one ankle crossed over the other. He was wearing jeans and a snug T-shirt, his dark hair windblown, and he looked like sex on legs. His tool belt was missing, and David wondered if he had finished up early and was waiting for him.

  He hoped so.

  “The chair?”

  “I gave it to some Jehovah’s witnesses who knocked on the door.” Jackson’s lip curled in his slow smile. David arched a brow skeptically. “Okay, fine. I took it out behind the garage. I didn’t think you’d mind.”

  “You’re right. I don’t mind.” David walked to him slowly. “How’s your mom doing?”

  “Surprisingly well. More alert after a night’s sleep than she was yesterday.”

  “That’s good.” David smiled.

  “Yeah. She was glad to see your mom. They were having coffee and eating homemade cinnamon rolls when I left.”

  “She brought you cinnamon rolls and didn’t save any for me?” David huffed. “I may have to disown her.”

  Jackson grinned. “Good luck with that.”

  David stopped a couple of feet
in front of him. “I’m glad your mom is better, and I’m glad my mom is there with her. It gives you a chance to work without worrying, and my mom something to do. It’s a win-win.”

  Jackson reached out and caught the front of David’s coat, tugging him closer. “You getting off work earlier than usual is a win-win.” The long-fingered hand curled in the fabric and David caught his breath as he pulled them together. “Are we done catching up?” One dark brow arched as Jackson’s full lips curled in a smile. “Because it’s almost five thirty, and this is cutting into our make-out time.”

  David’s mouth went dry. “Oh. We’re going to make out?”

  Jackson nodded, slipping his strong arm around David’s waist and bringing him taut against his chest. David’s hands came up to cup Jackson’s biceps. God, they were hard. “We are so going to make out.” Jackson lifted one calloused hand to cup David’s jaw, his thumb stroking across David’s lips. “Now—” The arm around David’s waist tightened. “—can we stop talking, please?”

  David nodded, and Jackson’s smile ripened as he leaned forward and captured David’s lips.

  Where the kisses they’d shared before began tentatively enough, this one didn’t. Jackson almost immediately pressed his tongue forward and David opened to him. Jackson’s kiss was searching and anything but uncertain, and in a daze, David lifted his arms and wrapped them around Jackson’s neck, letting Jackson take him wherever he wanted to go.

  There was nothing sloppy about Jackson’s tongue in David’s mouth. He curled it around David’s, stroking slowly then sucking, and David moaned as the sensation sent a thrill of need straight to his groin. He’d been half-hard in anticipation when he walked in the door, but he was so hard he ached now.

  With a nudge from Jackson’s hand, David’s coat slid from his shoulders and fell to the floor. Jackson kicked it aside and took a few steps, and David held on and let himself be walked backward. He was maneuvered until the backs of his knees hit a soft surface, and Jackson turned them, falling, pulling David down. They were horizontal on the long leather couch, David sprawled on top before he knew what was happening.