Fingerprints and Muddy Feet

by Carol Lynne

  Carol’s eyes went wide. “What has got into you? Are you dying or something?”

  Nate chuckled. “Nope, I just realised how important those words can be.”

  Carol shoved him back to his side of the truck. “Get out before you make me cry.”

  Nate climbed out of the pickup and grabbed his small bag from the backseat. “See you Monday,” he said before closing the door.

  Because he didn’t have his keys with him, Nate went around the side of the house to the back door. Stepping into the house, he was greeted by the ear-piercing sound of a football game in progress and a mess. He opened his mouth to yell at Will for tracking mud into his house, but stopped short when he noticed the size of the prints. Rio. Nate grinned when cheers from his family erupted in the TV room. He decided he liked the noise and the mess if it meant they belonged to the people he loved most.

  Nate set his bag down and shrugged out of his shoes and coat. He followed the noise to the family room and quietly watched Rio and Will wrestle on the floor while Hannah texted on her phone and Ryan lounged on the sofa. Perfect.

  “Did you miss me?” Nate asked, announcing his presence.

  “Uncle Nate!” Will shouted, detangling himself from Rio. He flew at Nate with abandon and launched himself into Nate’s open arms. “We missed you,” Will said, wrapping his arms around Nate’s neck.

  “I missed you, too, little man.” Nate kissed Will’s cheek before releasing him. He stopped beside Hannah’s favourite chair and leant down to kiss her forehead. “How’s Cricket?”

  “She’s full of drama, as usual.” Hannah smiled up at Nate. “I’m glad you’re home. Ryan’s cooking’s making me fat.”

  “I didn’t hear you complaining as you were shovelling it down your throat,” Ryan interjected.

  “If you put something good in front of me, I’m going to eat it. At least Nate doesn’t fry everything he can get his hands on,” she countered.

  Nate hugged himself. “It’s so good to be home.”

  * * * *

  After a dinner of chili and Kyle’s cinnamon rolls, Hannah handed Will his coat. “I’m going to take Will to visit the horses while you guys clean the kitchen.” She glanced at the clock. “We should be gone about thirty minutes. Will that be enough time?” she asked with a gleam in her eyes.

  Embarrassed, Ryan cleared his throat. Had their need for each other been too obvious? “Should be, although if you decide to feed and water the horses while you’re out there, it may take you a little longer.”

  “Forty-five minutes. Got it,” Hannah said, wrapping a bright red scarf around her neck.

  The moment the kids were left, Ryan locked the door. “We’re going to hell.” He lowered the kitchen blinds as Nate and Rio began stripping off their clothes. “I don’t think child services would approve of sending two children out into the cold just so we can fuck.”

  “We didn’t send them out. It was Hannah’s idea, and they’ll be in the heated barn. Besides, I was watching Will and he doesn’t have a clue why Hannah suggested it.” Rio was the first to finish and began to help Ryan catch up. He knelt at Ryan’s feet and pulled his jeans down before taking Ryan’s flaccid cock into his mouth.

  “God I love kitchen sex,” Nate said, moving to stand beside Ryan.

  Ryan angled Nate so Rio could get at both their cocks. “The way I figure it, we have thirty minutes of fun before we have to clean up.”

  Nate glanced down. “We can do a lot in thirty minutes.”

  “You know it,” Ryan agreed, running his finger up and down the crack of Nate’s ass. “So, are you gonna tell us how your visit to DC went?” In lieu of lube, Ryan spat into his hand and smeared it against Nate’s hole.

  Nate braced his hands on Rio’s shoulders and leaned over enough to give Ryan better access. “It was very…cathartic,” he sighed when Ryan worked a finger inside him.

  “So have you washed your hands of him?” Rio asked, releasing Nate’s cock.

  “Not at all. To be honest, I feel the hate’s gone but possibilities still exist for some kind of relationship with him in the future.” Nate gestured to his cock. “Why don’t we finish talking about this when our thirty minutes are up? ’Kay?”

  Ryan tapped Rio on the shoulder. “Nate’s been without us for a few days, we might need lube.”

  Rio stood and glanced around the kitchen. “Vegetable oil?”

  “No. The last time we used that, it took me days to feel clean. I didn’t spend the last few days living as a monk.” Nate held up his hand. “Let’s just say we’ve become reacquainted.” He pointed his two middle fingers to the ceiling. “Especially these little guys.”

  Rio groaned. “Fuck him raw.”

  With his cock hard as steel, Ryan didn’t have a problem with the request, but he did have an issue with their current position. “Table time,” he announced.

  Rio immediately stood and moved towards the table. It was a familiar dance and they were all familiar with the steps.

  While Rio began stacking used chili bowls, Ryan helped Nate onto the raised surface. “Have you tightened the legs lately?” Nate asked, stretching out.

  “Last week,” Ryan confirmed. He hooked his forearms around Nate’s thighs and pulled the smaller man closer to the edge. “Missed you. Missed this.” He gathered a mouthful of saliva before pushing Nate’s legs back. Bending over, he slathered Nate’s hole with spit while stroking his own cock.

  The table creaked as Rio climbed over Nate in a typical sixty-nine position. It was one of their favourite ways to pleasure each other. Not only did Nate get sucked and fucked at the same time, but Rio’s cock and hole were accessible for Nate’s fingers and throat. Ryan moaned as he explored Nate’s hole with his tongue.

  “Yeah, I’ve missed this,” Nate agreed.

  “We’re making a deal right here, right now,” Rio began. “Every Monday, Wednesday and Friday that the kids have school, we’re coming home for lunch.”

  Ryan was sure they’d already agreed to planned kitchen sex, but he nodded anyway. Their earlier concerns about their sex life dropping off had proved unfounded. They could still continue to have plenty of pleasurable and exciting sex, it just needed to be planned around their time with the children.

  Confident that Nate’s hole was ready, Ryan stood and slid the chair back. A quick glance at the clock told him they still had plenty of time. “Fifteen-minute mark,” he announced.

  Rio chuckled. “Not a problem.” He sucked Nate’s cock back into his mouth as he swivelled his hips.

  Ryan moved enough to see around Rio to Nate. “Ready?”

  Nate gave Ryan a thumb’s up without removing his mouth from Rio’s cock or his fingers from Rio’s hole.

  Yeah, the way they were going, they’d have plenty of time to spare. Ryan held his cock by the base as he pressed the crown against Nate’s stretched hole. At the last second, he pulled back and gathered another mouthful of spit to slick his cock. The last thing he wanted was to hurt Nate, and even though Rio told him to fuck Nate raw, Ryan knew neither of them would do anything to damage Nate in any way.

  “Tell me if you start to feel dry,” Ryan said as he rocked his way inside Nate. Fuck. The delicious squeeze of Nate’s channel bathed Ryan in euphoria.

  Just as Ryan had found his rhythm, there was a banging on the door. “Uncle Nate! I think Will broke his arm,” Hannah yelled.

  Without a backward glance, the three of them sprang apart and began dressing in a frenzy. It wasn’t the embarrassment of getting caught that prompted them to rush around the kitchen, it was the worry that Will was seriously hurt. Ryan buttoned his jeans and stepped into his boots beside the door without bothering with socks. It said a lot about his growing feelings for the children that all thoughts of fucking had been pushed to the backburner the moment they heard that Will needed them.

  * * * *

  Nate stared at the bright lime green cast in horror. “I can’t believe you chose that colour. It won’t match anything.”r />
  Will laughed. “Dr Jeffries said it’ll glow in the dark,” he announced. “It’ll be like having a night light with me all the time.”

  Nate rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I guess that’s the upside.” He ruffled Will’s hair. “Have you learned your lesson about playing on the hayloft ladder?”

  “Yeah, I’ll hang on better next time.”

  “How about if you don’t use it for a jungle gym. If you want a swing set, I’ll have Rio put one up for you.”

  “Really?” Will’s face lit up.

  “Sure. You’ll probably have to wait for spring, but in the meantime, maybe if you give him a big enough hug, he’ll throw a couple of ropes over one of the beams in the barn and put up a makeshift swing for this winter.” Nate draped Will’s winter coat over his shoulders. When he’d entered the barn to find Will crying and holding his arm, his heart had nearly broken. Never again did he want to feel as helpless as he had at that moment. His common sense told him accidents would continue to happen, especially when raising a boy, but he wanted to wrap Will in his protective embrace and never let him go.

  “You ready?” Ryan asked, sticking his head into the exam room. “I got the insurance stuff sorted, so we’re cleared to go.”

  Nate ushered Will from the room, stopping long enough to give Ryan a quick kiss. “I think I’ve aged ten years in the last three hours.”

  Ryan wrapped his arm around Nate’s waist as they walked into the waiting room. “I think we all have,” he whispered in Nate’s ear.

  “That’s cool,” Rio cried as Will showed off his cast.

  “It glows in the dark,” Will proclaimed, holding it out for Rio to examine.

  Rio looked genuinely impressed. “I’m jealous. Maybe I need to be a knucklehead and fall off a ladder, too.”

  Will’s nose crinkled. “I wouldn’t advise it. It hurt.”

  Rio pulled Will into his arms and hugged him. “Don’t ever scare me like that again.”

  “I’ll do my best,” Will replied.

  Nate waved to Matt Jeffries. “Thanks. We’ll see you in a few weeks.”

  Matt waved back. “Good luck.”

  Nate stared after his family as they filed out of the clinic. “I already have it,” he said with confidence.

  Also available from Totally Bound Publishing:

  Brookside Athletic Club: Soul Restoration

  Carol Lynne

  Excerpt

  Chapter One

  “Hey, Pete, John wants you to head over to the Wilson job after you finish here,” Brent barked, shoving his cell phone in his pocket.

  “Sure thing,” Pete Braxton answered. He opened the last bag of coco shell mulch and sprinkled it around the freshly planted fountain grass. It was almost five, which meant he’d get overtime for making the trip across town. Cool. He could use some extra cash. With a leaking water heater and his truck payment overdue by a week, anything beyond his normal six hundred a week was gravy.

  After quickly cleaning up his supplies, Pete climbed behind the wheel of the company truck and took a left out of the driveway. When the local news came on the radio, he reached for the knob to change the station but stopped when he heard his brother’s name.

  “In overnight news, Shawnee Mission Parkway was the scene of a deadly head-on collision. Both drivers, Braxton Investments owner and CEO, David Braxton, and Wayne Potts of Lenexa were killed instantly.”

  Pete slammed his fist against the knob, effectively breaking the radio and splitting his knuckle open. “Fuck.” He shook his hand while looking for the nearest place to pull over. Despite their estrangement, he’d always hoped there’d be time to make up, to become brothers once again. That wouldn’t happen now. It was over. He was well and truly on his own. Coming to a stop in a grocery store parking lot, Pete searched through the glove box and finally came up with a couple of drive-thru paper napkins.

  What now? What was a brother who wasn’t wanted supposed to do? Pete felt lost, like he was adrift without a boat. Which didn’t make any sense since he’d been on his own for almost ten years, but having a brother who didn’t want him was different than having no brother at all.

  How can I be mad at a dead man?

  Pete’s phone rang, startling him. He glanced at the caller ID before answering. “Hey.”

  “Where’re you at?” John, Pete’s boss and the owner of the landscaping company, asked. “Brent called and told me you left, but that was over thirty minutes ago.”

  Pete looked at the clock on the dashboard. Jesus Christ, how long have I been sitting here? “Sorry, I just heard some bad news,” he mumbled.

  John cleared his throat. “So you heard. Sorry, man, that’s why I wanted to see you. The police called looking for you, but I didn’t want them to get to you first. News like that…”

  “Yeah.” Pete swallowed. “So, am I supposed to call the police or something?”

  John paused. “David’s body’s already been identified by his secretary. I think the police were just looking to inform the next of kin of his death.”

  Pete nodded to himself. It felt weird to hear himself referred to as David’s next of kin. Sure, technically, he was, but David had readily gone along with his father’s wish to have Pete out of the family and their lives. “Okay.”

  “They told me if I saw you to have you call David’s lawyer. I’ve got a number right here.”

  “Miller, Cambridge and Stone, right?” Pete recited the name of the law firm the Braxton family had used for years.

  “No, actually, it’s a man named Matthew Field. He’s got an office out in the ‘burbs somewhere,” John corrected.

  Matthew Field. “I’ll give him a call.”

  “You need a few days off?” John asked.

  “Not sure yet. I’ll give you a call as soon as I figure it out.” Pete knew he hadn’t processed the news of his brother’s death because he still wasn’t sure how he was supposed to feel about it. Was it callous to hate someone who’d just died? “Thanks, John.”

  “Call if you need anything,” John said before hanging up.

  Pete took several calming breaths before heading home, back to the one bedroom house he shared with Cheddar, a huge, long-haired orange cat.

  The minute Pete stepped into the house the cat was there, waiting for him. Cheddar’s favourite means of getting attention was to headbutt Pete’s calf until he got what he wanted. “In a minute,” he said, ripping the napkin from his hand. The cut to his knuckle had dried, but he’d need to get it cleaned up eventually.

  He opened the old console stereo he’d bought at a second-hand store down the street and withdrew the yellow-paged phone directory. While searching the attorney section, he was continually assaulted by Cheddar. Pete ripped out the page with Field’s phone number. “Okay, dinner, got it,” he told the cat.

  Cheddar let out a mew that sounded more like a cuss word.

  Pete rolled his eyes and stuck the page to the fridge with a take-out menu magnet. “Technically, it’s not even time for you to eat, so don’t get all snippy with me.”

  Nonplussed by the admonishment, Cheddar sauntered over to his food bowl and plopped onto his side. He stared up at Pete and yawned, evidently trying his damnedest to exert his dominance over the situation.

  “Fine, for that, I’m not even going to wash my hands before I get your dinner.” Pete retrieved a can of cat food out of the cabinet and used the easy-open pull. His odd relationship with Cheddar had been his lifeline for years.

  Pete filled the chipped pottery food bowl and rubbed his companion behind the ears. “Okay, I’m not mad anymore.”

  Cheddar didn’t bother looking up from his dinner, obviously unconcerned with Pete’s mood when he had a bowl of flaked tuna and cheese in front of him. Cats definitely weren’t meant for people who suffered from low self-esteem. Pete loved Cheddar, but other than the occasional purr and rub against him, his beloved pet rarely gave more than a sympathetic ear. Well, two, but most of the time Pete felt Cheddar was only hal
f listening to him.

  “So, my brother died last night,” Pete informed his furry friend while getting a beer out of the fridge. “I haven’t seen David in…hell, nearly eight years.” He glanced down at Cheddar. “It was before you came along, so no need for you to feel jealous. I saw him at a restaurant on The Plaza. I looked up from my twenty-first birthday celebrative steak dinner to find him standing five feet away from my table. At first I thought he was glad to see me, but just as quickly, he shut down and turned away.”

  Pete upended his can and walked to the living room, leaving Cheddar to finish his dinner in peace. The recliner he’d picked up on Craig’s List fit his ass perfectly. It was an ugly gold colour and beyond its prime, but it was his. He grabbed the remote and turned on the local news. As a landscaper, the most important segment had always been the weather, but he barely heard the teaser the meteorologist gave at the top of the hour about the chance of precipitation coming up in the extended forecast.

  When a publicity picture of his brother came on screen, Pete sat transfixed. Older. David looked so much older, like the life—the vitality—had been sucked right out of him. Is that what running a multi-million dollar investment firm did to a person, or could it have something to do with trying to live up to his father’s demands? Not that dear old Dad was demanding much since his death three years earlier.

  Pete had also heard that tidbit on the news. Although he hadn’t gone to the funeral, he’d hoped that David would reach out to him. Of course, that hadn’t happened. It seemed their father hadn’t been the barrier between them after all.

  Instead, Pete had briefly mourned the loss of his father before moving on with his life. His millionaire father had thrust him into the world of the working poor only a month after Pete’s mother had died. As a college freshman who had never before held a job, it hadn’t been easy for Pete to take the five thousand dollar check he’d been given by his dad’s attorney and start a new life, but he’d done it.

  Looking around the living room, Pete studied the cracks in the ceiling and the walls that could use a fresh coat of paint. It was nothing like the 1920’s mansion he’d grown up in, but he’d bought it with his own money after saving for over five years. He’d always referred to his six hundred and thirty square foot bungalow as the house that desperation built.