A Case of You [Suncoast Society] (Siren Publishing Sensations ManLove)

by Tymber Dalton

  Learning about carbs. Something his own auto tech training had been sorely lacking in, simply because the cars he’d worked on at the dealership, the majority of them had fuel injection systems.

  On his way home, he had to pass the dealership he used to work at and decided to stop in to say hi.

  Even better, the shop manager saw him talking to one of the mechanics and walked over.

  “Hey, how are you doing?”

  “Not perfect, but better. A lot better than I was before they diagnosed me.”

  “When you going to turn wrenches again?”

  “That’s not going to happen any time soon. I still get tired too easily. I can’t be on my feet all day, either.”

  “How about sitting on a stool behind the parts counter?”

  “Huh?”

  “Bob Edmund hurt his back playing with his grandkids over Christmas. He’s going to be out a couple of months, at least. He needs surgery. They haven’t even advertised the job yet. You interested?”

  Jeff wasn’t sure he’d heard him correctly. “I thought Bob was only part-time?” Bob was a nice guy, had retired from his first career as an airplane mechanic before starting work at the dealership part-time.

  “He is. Twenty hours a week or so. You should go talk to Carl Dorsey, the parts manager.”

  “I…I will.”

  Technically, he should be talking to Brandon and Stuart, but this was too good an opportunity to pass up. Sitting behind the parts counter part-time?

  That was perfect!

  He hurried inside to find Carl and talk to him.

  Twenty minutes later, Jeff was sitting in his truck and thinking about the conversation he’d just had.

  The job could be his. It was only guaranteed for four months, though. After that, they’d talk to him and see if there were other options, or if they could keep him on part-time once Bob returned to work.

  If Bob even returned to work.

  But Jeff would have to let them know by tomorrow morning, or they’d advertise the position.

  It wasn’t even the money at that point. Jeff had health insurance through Brandon’s job. Anything he made he could put toward their household funds. Maybe toward the mortgage, or even their retirement accounts.

  Start really contributing again.

  And it wasn’t even full-time. Five mornings a week, Monday through Friday.

  Perfect!

  He headed home and barely remembered he needed to get dinner started for everyone.

  Maybe his luck had finally changed for the better. He’d been taking it easy, and between using the hot tub, doing the gentle exercises his doctor prescribed, and seeing Nate once a week, it seemed to be helping.

  Was he “cured?” No. The doctors warned him that, at this point, it looked like this was his new normal.

  Okay, so he’d deal with that.

  But a chance to go back to work, doing something he was qualified to do, and which was physically easy to do?

  He had to take the chance.

  While he thought about calling Brandon to ask him, he knew this conversation was best had in person. Stuart needed to be involved as well, because it would impact him.

  Em and Grace were sitting at the dinner table with them when Jeff’s opportunity arose.

  Brandon had been asking the girls, then Stuart, about their day.

  Then came Jeff’s turn. “So what’d you do today, buddy?”

  He took a deep breath. “I ran up to Brooke’s to hang out for a while. And then I stopped by the dealership to say hi to some of the guys.”

  “Yeah? I’m guessing you didn’t wear yourself out today.”

  Jeff fought the urge to let his body respond to Brandon’s implied tone, and the way the corner of his mouth quirked up, that Brandon would be interested in having some fun that night.

  “No, but I had an interesting conversation at the dealership.” He went for broke and laid it all out, all four of them now motionless and listening as he told them about the job offer.

  No one spoke, awaiting Brandon’s response.

  “What did you tell them?” he finally asked.

  “I said I’d let them know tomorrow morning.”

  Brandon’s blue gaze met and held his. “I’m guessing you really want to take the job?”

  “I do.”

  “They know about your health issues? I won’t agree to you working if you’re going to be killing yourself.”

  “Yes. I won’t have to do any deliveries, or heavy lifting, just man the counter and answer phones and look up parts. It’s inside, air-conditioned. Part-time, in the mornings when I’m feeling my best anyway. And I can sit for most of it.”

  He saw more than heard Brandon’s sigh, the way his shoulders dropped a tad as he stared at Jeff. “Is this something you feel you can do?” he finally asked.

  “Absolutely.”

  “It’s not that much money. Are you willing to have that trade-off for your energy and pain levels?”

  “I thought I could put it in our retirement account, or toward paying off the mortgage principal. I know it’s not a lot, but I figure every little bit helps, right? And if we’re paying our bills now, that would probably be the best place for it.”

  Ed had set up a trust for all of them. Even though the house and mortgage were in Brandon’s name, they all were partners in it. That way, if something happened to Brandon, they wouldn’t be left unable to access anything. As Brandon’s legal husband, Jeff wouldn’t have as difficult a time, but Brandon wanted to make sure Stuart was protected, too.

  Brandon slowly nodded. “Let’s put it toward the mortgage principal. Anything we pay early saves us interest in the long run.”

  Jeff grinned, for the first time in nearly a year feeling like he was actually contributing again.

  And understanding that comment meant Brandon was going to say yes.

  “When do you start?” Brandon asked, confirming Jeff’s suspicion.

  “I can start as soon as I want to. I told them I’d call them in the morning.”

  “Okay, then.” He reached over and patted Jeff’s hand. “One condition you must agree to before I say yes.”

  His smile faded. “Yes, Sir?”

  Brandon’s blue gaze bore into his. “If, at any time, I feel your health is being negatively impacted, I have the right to tell you to quit. I don’t mean if you have a bad day here or there. I mean if you start on another downward trend like you were before, and it’s not getting better. If your health chronically sinks. No arguments, either. Deal?”

  Jeff’s grin returned. “Yes, Sir. Deal.”

  Although Jeff couldn’t imagine how this would possibly hurt his health. It literally wouldn’t be doing much more than he already did in a given day. Sure, he’d be driving back and forth to work every day, but driving wasn’t hard work. And he’d feel useful, get to be around people all day long. No more isolation.

  This is going to be great!

  * * * *

  From the blatant hope painted on Jeff’s features, Brandon knew he couldn’t say no.

  Not yet.

  Not this time.

  He’d wait and see. Hopefully, Jeff’s health had taken a turn for the better and would hold. If so, he’d loosen the tight grip he’d held on his man and let him once again take control of his life in that way.

  Because if Jeff had proven one thing to him and Stuart both, it was that Jeff was never the best barometer of his overall health. He would push himself past the point of no return, repeatedly, to the detriment of his body and soul.

  Brandon and Stuart had watched this pattern repeat itself, both before his Lyme diagnosis, but especially after.

  Jeff would feel better, push himself, crash himself, and sink into a depressive funk, hating on himself.

  Which only made the pain worse.

  Lather, rinse, repeat.

  Yet Brandon knew if he forbade Jeff from taking the job, it could lead to resentment from him. An unanswered what-if.

>   Should Brandon have taken the conversation private, just the three of them? Maybe, but he wanted Emma and Grace to hear it, because they spent more time with Jeff during the day than he and Stuart did.

  They were his willing spies.

  They wouldn’t hesitate to rat Jeff out if he wasn’t feeling good, or if he was pushing too hard, so Brandon wanted them to hear the full conversation. Witnesses for when he had to put his foot down.

  And his early-warning defense system if Jeff’s health spiraled downward.

  Once dinner ended, Jeff stood to help the girls clear the table while Brandon headed toward their bedroom. Stuart hurried after Brandon, and once they were alone, he pounced.

  Stuart kept his voice low. “No offense, Bran, but are you fucking crazy?”

  The fact that Stuart used his real name meant he wanted a no-bullshit talk, husband to husband, not slave to Master. “No, but we have to let him try.”

  “He’s going to crash himself. Again. How long then before he pulls out of it?”

  “He’s not a baby. He’s almost forty. But this is the last chance I give him. Maybe he’s right and he’ll be fine. If so, it’s a win-win. He feels better mentally and emotionally, and we pay the house off a little sooner.”

  “His health isn’t worth saving six months’ of interest fees.

  “I know that, and you know that. The only way he’s going to know that is for him to try. If you and I are right, we’ll be there to help him climb out of it again, and we’ll have the final proof that you and I are right.”

  Stuart ran a hand through his brown hair. “I don’t like this, Bran. I don’t.”

  “I didn’t say I liked it. But I also swore to both of you I wouldn’t control your careers. I hated ordering him to quit work before. I can’t put my foot down this time, either. Not yet.”

  “Sure you can. You’re his Master and husband. You simply tell him no!”

  Brandon rested his hands on Stuart’s shoulders. “My income is enough to pay all the bills around here. You quit your job and stay at home with him.”

  Stuart blinked. “What?”

  “It’ll be tight, sure, because I’d have to pay your health insurance, but we can cut back on some expenses.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “I’m ordering you to stop working. Call Cedro in the morning and quit.”

  “I can’t!”

  “Sure you can. I just told you to. I’m your Master, right? Isn’t that what you just said I should do to Jeff?”

  “But I don’t want…” Stuart’s eyes dropped closed as the sigh escaped him. “Okay,” he said. “I get it.”

  “Do you?”

  “Yeah.” He opened his eyes again, green, sweet, flecks of amber and brown giving them a darker shade in the bedroom’s low light. “I get it.”

  He squeezed Stuart’s shoulders. “Then you understand why I have to let him try.”

  “Yeah.”

  Brandon pulled him in for a hug. “Master does not mean asshole. I refuse to do that to either of you. You have to want to serve me and follow my orders. Or at least understand and agree with the logic, even if you don’t like the order. If I have to force you to do something, usually it means I’m doing something wrong as your Master.

  “But more importantly, as your husband, I refuse to treat you like an object without feelings. Maybe some people are happy being treated like that, but it’s not something I can do. Not and still look at myself in the mirror every morning.”

  “When do we pull the plug? Because you know that’s what’s going to happen.”

  “We’ll know. We wait. We talk to the girls. What we absolutely do not do is constantly pester him about how he’s doing. He’ll stubborn-up and make it worse on himself by trying to hide how bad he feels. I know that’ll be hard to do, but we have to be hands-off. We’ll know when it’s time.”

  “Do I get a say in that?”

  “I get the final say, but you can come to me and talk to me about what you see, yes.”

  “I hope you know what you’re doing, Master.”

  “Me, too, boy.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Despite his ever-present levels of pain, when Jeff got out of bed the next morning with Brandon and Stuart, he actually felt better than he had in months.

  Emotionally, at least.

  He was going back to work. Yes, it was only part-time, and working the parts counter.

  He didn’t care. It was work.

  It meant he wasn’t a total waste of skin and bones anymore. Was it contributing to their household budget? Not in a meaningful way, but it meant he could actually feel like he was.

  He still couldn’t believe Brandon and Stuart hadn’t overruled him on it. That proved how much they loved him.

  Instead of calling Carl, he was going to drive there and let him know in person. If he was lucky, maybe they’d put him on the parts counter today.

  Otherwise, at the very least, he’d have to fill out employment forms and update his information with human resources.

  Emma had already left for the morning, her swimming practice schedule back on track now that the winter holidays were over.

  “What time do you think you’ll be home today?” Brandon asked Jeff.

  “Probably around one. Earlier, if they don’t have me start today.”

  “Make sure to leave the girls a note so they don’t worry if you don’t beat them home.”

  “Good point.”

  Brandon leaned in to kiss him. “Have a good day today. Good luck. Love you.”

  Emotionally, Jeff felt lighter than he had in months. “Thanks. Love you, too.”

  Stuart also kissed him and wished him well. By the time he was on his way to the dealership, a travel mug of coffee in hand, Jeff knew this was a great new start for him.

  Carl was already at work when Jeff arrived. Twenty minutes later, Jeff was filling out forms and barely able to contain his smile.

  Absolutely, he could work today. They were short-handed and needed the help.

  Within an hour, he was familiarizing himself with the computer system. He already had experience with it from when he worked there before. Now he’d have to become an expert in parts instead of repairs.

  He didn’t mind. It was a good challenge to have.

  It was actually close to two o’clock when he finally clocked out after the other guy had a chance to go eat lunch.

  “Thanks for coming in today,” he told Jeff. “This is great. Glad to have you back.”

  “Feels good to be back.”

  “Sorry you’ve got Lyme disease, but it’s nice having a guy behind the counter who understands repairs. It helps a lot. Especially when you have to deal with DIYers who don’t know the names of what they’re looking for.”

  Jeff had already dealt with a couple of those that day, both on the phone and at the parts counter. The bulk of what he did was look up and pull stuff for the mechanics, or local repair shops, some of whom already had the parts numbers for what they needed.

  When he returned home, Emma met him at the door. “Are you all right?” Grace watched from where she sat at the dining room table. It looked like they’d been working on their homework.

  “I’m fine, sweetie. Didn’t you see my note?”

  “Yeah, and I told Dad I’d rat you out if you had trouble.”

  “I’m okay.” He grinned. “Had a great day. I’m going to go sit in the hot tub for a little while.”

  His theory was if he proactively did that after getting home, maybe it would help him counteract the pain. He even did some light stretching while he was in there. He followed that by a few minutes in the pool to cool off, then grabbed a shower.

  When he emerged from the bedroom again, he smelled dinner underway.

  Grace and Emma both turned when he walked into the kitchen, staring at him.

  “What?” he asked.

  Grace wagged a finger at him before nudging her glasses up her nose. “We’ve got our eyes on
you, mister. You’d better take it easy.”

  “I appreciate the concern, but I’ll be okay. It’s super-easy. I sit on a stool, look stuff up on the computer, talk on the phone, and sometimes walk to get something. The parts aren’t heavy. If something is too heavy, I swear I’ll have someone get it for me. They know I have restrictions. It’s okay.”

  Emma walked over and kissed his cheek. “Don’t overdo it. Remember how bad you were before Thanksgiving.”

  “Yeah, and I admit that was my own fault, too. This is nothing.”

  * * * *

  Wednesday morning, after the alarm went off and Stuart and Brandon climbed out of bed, Jeff lay there for an extra minute.

  Everything.

  Fucking.

  Hurt.

  Not as badly as when he’d crashed himself before Thanksgiving, but definitely more than he’d expected.

  I need to wear my old work boots. He’d worn sneakers yesterday, and they didn’t have the arch support his work boots did.

  That’s the problem.

  He waited for Brandon and Stuart to hit the shower before downing some ibuprofen and his morning meds. He wasn’t on as many as he had been, and it was easier on his stomach. He’d nuke a frozen breakfast sandwich and take it with him for the drive.

  I just need to get used to my new routine is all.

  * * * *

  By Friday morning, Jeff’s pain levels hadn’t increased past what he’d awakened with on Wednesday morning.

  They also hadn’t decreased, despite including extra stretching in the morning and in the afternoon, as well as spending time in the hot tub every afternoon after work. He suspected his pain would be a lot higher if he wasn’t taking those extra steps, but he didn’t want to test the theory.

  His fatigue also increased. To the point that when Saturday morning rolled around, he opted to stay in bed despite their family plans to go out to breakfast and then attend an art festival in Venice.

  Brandon sent Stuart out of the bedroom to go get in the car with the girls. Then he sat on the edge of the bed and nailed Jeff with the intense blue gaze he knew meant business.