Seeds of Tyrone Box Set

by Debbie McGowan

  The man—still a kid, really, would he be much use in an emergency?—smiled and said, “There isn’t anything wrong, sir. We’re starting our descent.”

  Descent.

  Landing.

  Airport.

  Seamus…

  Seamus.

  All told, it had been over a year since Seamus left, and even though they’d seen each other practically every day for months, it was always through that damn screen. Now they’d be able to whisper in each other’s ear, feel the breath of the words, nothing lost to a sketchy connection. They could touch, revel in the warmth of their combined bodies, or hold themselves apart and just be together. Chancey could finally tell Seamus that he—

  The plane jerked hard on an air pocket, and Dee stirred.

  As they began to steady out, Chancey closed his eyes.

  He’d been brave enough to board the plane. But hell and heaven only knew if he’d be brave enough to tell Seamus Williams that.

  <<< >>>

  “Three seven double one, right?” Paddy asked, nodding towards the information board.

  “That’s right, aye. Delayed. Ah, crap.” Seamus huffed again, and Paddy shook his head, chuckling.

  “You’re worse than Aidan, so you are.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Mountains of molehills, Seamus. It’s all of fifteen minutes.”

  Seamus scowled hard at the board, as if that might somehow force the information to change. Paddy was right, of course. They’d waited this long. What was another fifteen minutes? Apart from a small fortune in parking charges. He glanced around at the other people standing nearby, all of them staring up at the board, interspersed with the occasional look coming his and Paddy’s way. With his height and Paddy’s flaming orange mop of hair, the attention was nothing new. They shared the same build, give or take a few inches in height, and similar complexion, although Seamus’s hair was much darker, and he was nowhere near as freckly as Paddy, so it was rare for people to assume they were brothers, unless they were overheard in conversation, when even their mam had mistaken one for the other on occasion.

  “Hey, Pad, d’you remember when you called that bloke ‘shitty arse’?”

  Paddy grinned. “I do indeed. I’ve confessed since, mind.”

  “It’s a bit late for that, isn’t it?”

  “Better late than never, I say.”

  “The slap ’round the head won’t hurt any less for you owning up now.”

  “Didn’t he stink though, Shay?”

  Seamus smiled. “He did too.”

  “And anyway,” Paddy said, affecting a disgruntled frown, “I got the blame for all your effin’ and blindin’, so I don’t know what you’re complaining about.”

  “I never effed and blinded, matey. Pure as the driven snow, me.”

  Paddy made a disbelieving pfft sound. “Yeah, right. So, what’s the plan for this stag do?”

  “I’m not telling you.” Seamus was pretty sure Paddy was attempting to distract him and didn’t actually want to know, although beyond heading out on a pub crawl, Seamus didn’t have much planned. There were a couple of gay clubs that he was considering adding to the list, but in truth—and he felt selfish for it—he was so desperate to see Chancey, it was all he could do to remember he was his brother’s best man, never mind planning stag nights or making sure Paddy made it to the ceremony on time.

  “I might not come, then,” Paddy said, interjecting into Seamus’s thoughts. He had to backtrack to remember what it was Paddy might not be coming to.

  “Then there won’t be a stag do, will there?”

  “Aidan’ll be there, and don’t you dare get him tanked up on Guinness.”

  Seamus put his hands over his heart and blinked innocently, as if to say ‘Who? Me?’

  “Yes, you, you gobshite,” Paddy said, laughing.

  “You have my word. I won’t be getting either of you drunk. I’ve plenty else to worry about.”

  “You second-guessing again?”

  Seamus turned his attention back to the information board. The last thing he needed was a Patrick Williams say-it-how-it-is moment, but he was going to get one just the same.

  “I can see it on your face, Seamus. You think he’s come all this way to give your heart a kicking?”

  “No. I just…d’you know, I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Because you’re not used to feeling like this?”

  “No, I’m not. Jesus, it’s like…”

  “You’re in love?”

  “Yeah, exactly that. But with what? The memory of one night? What if we hate each other?”

  “It’s not a blind date, Seamus. You’ve been doing the business online for months, haven’t ye?”

  “Aye, but that’s online, and it was only ‘the business’, if you get me.”

  “Well,” Paddy said, pointing at the arrivals board, “his plane’s landed, so you’ll find out soon enough.”

  <<< >>>

  Dee noticed the Williams brothers before Chancey and she waved at them, but then suddenly overcome with teenage awkwardness, she dropped her hand.

  “That’s them, isn’t it?” She hooked her arm with Chancey’s like she was five and not thirteen.

  There was no mistaking Seamus and his brother, who stood near baggage claim. Patrick Williams, every bit as redheaded as Shay said he was, waved back at Dee.

  Seamus…not two hundred feet from him. Seamus…who he thought he would never see again. Seamus…tall, handsome…just like Chancey remembered. If there had still been lingering anger over Shay leaving, it would have burned out in that moment.

  “You’re not going to run into his arms, are you?” Dee asked, cringing.

  “What? And embarrass you, darlin’?”

  They walked forward, though he couldn’t remember when he’d started to move. His boots on the tile sounded hollow and far away through the rush of blood in his ears.

  “Yeah, well the whole ‘romantic moment in the airport’ is stupid cliché.”

  He could still hear her, but not really, because they had reached Patrick and Shay, and Chancey’s eyes had locked with Seamus’s. His thoughts were definitely not appropriate for the moment, and he thought maybe Shay was feeling the same.

  Seamus had stared at him like this before—that first night together. There’d been hunger in his eyes, like Chancey was the last meal on Earth. Now they were both starving.

  Seamus stood rigid, arms straight at his sides. When he swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbed, and Chancey followed the up and down motion. “Hi, Chance.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five:

  Breathe, Damn it

  Seamus tried to take a deep breath, but it was like he was swimming against the current and being pulled under, gulping and gasping, sucking in water, drowning on the air. Chancey was staring right back at him, the two of them held in an indefinable moment, a bubble beyond which all sound and movement was muffled, indistinguishable, white noise.

  No hat. His hair, clean and recently trimmed, gleamed under the airport lighting. A few more silver strands were ribboned through it than when they had last been face-to-face, and the lines across his forehead had deepened, but man alive! He was a sight for sore eyes. All the while they were locked in whatever this thing was, a constant babbling stream of chatter was happening beyond Seamus’s consciousness. His brain attempted to disengage from Chancey and reconnect with the world, even though nothing else mattered.

  Say hello to Deidra.

  With much effort, Seamus shifted his gaze from Chancey to the excitable girl, who was giggling helplessly, though it took Seamus a moment longer to tune in and figure out why.

  “Hello,” Dee said, looking at Patrick and blushing a telltale shade of crush red.

  “Well, hello there! Aren’t you a lovely one?”

  Her eyes went owlishly huge, and she stuttered, “Will you say ‘top of the morning to you’? Like they taught us in drama class?”

  Patrick guffawed
with laughter. “I’ll do it, but only once you’ve done your best accent for me.”

  “Well I dunno, pardner, wut it is you ’spect me to say? I don’ have any sort of ac-cent.”

  “To be sure, you kissed the Blarney stone, so you did. Aye. Top of the mornin’ to ye!”

  “Say it again, say it again!”

  Paddy shook his head. “I can’t be doin’ that,” he said, still with the same exaggerated Limerick accent that had Dee in pieces. The fizz in Seamus’s ears cleared a little, and he forced himself to home in on his brother.

  “Not bad for an Omagh man,” he teased; their mam was originally from Limerick and they could both do the accent with some degree of authenticity. However, right at that moment, talking, breathing, walking, or any other normal, sensible action was beyond Seamus’s capability.

  Paddy briefly met his gaze and gave him a subtle wink; Seamus hadn’t the faintest idea why. Donning his most charming smile, Paddy crooked his arm and held it out for Dee to take. “Come on then, young lady. Let’s get moving, shall we?”

  Dee quickly shoved her bag at Chancey and hooked arms with Paddy. The pair of them stepped off together, leaving Chancey and Seamus behind.

  “I was going to say hello,” Seamus uttered. He swallowed hard and turned his head towards Chancey, who was staring after Dee and Paddy, and looking like he’d taken a slug to the jaw.

  “She’s…um…” Chancey gestured helplessly at Dee. He blinked rapidly and chewed on his lip.

  Seamus’s abdominal muscles tensed of their own accord, and he clamped his teeth together to suppress a groan.

  “We’re here,” Chancey stated. He sounded breathless. He swept his hair back from his face, his entire arm shaking.

  “Are you OK, Chance?”

  “Yeah?” He laughed at himself and then looked directly at Seamus and smiled. “Yeah. I’m good. You?”

  Seamus nodded. “Me too. I think. It’s er, y’know, kind of a bit…ah, God almighty, what am I tryin’ to say?” Seamus stopped gabbling and took a deep breath. “Shall we walk and talk?”

  “Sure,” Chancey agreed.

  <<< >>>

  “You hungry?” Chancey asked, his fingers twitching at his side. He wanted to grab Seamus’s hand, lace their fingers together, feel their heartbeat—as one—through his palm. But he wasn’t sure if Shay would be comfortable with that overt display of affection. Dee had warned him to not go running into Seamus’s arms, but this not touching at all was murder.

  “Not so much,” Seamus answered. “You?”

  Yes. Fucking starved. For you. Corny.

  “Nah. Wanna sit here?”

  There was a small row of seats near a large window. Outside the glass, cars pulled up to drop off travellers, heading to destinations unknown. One of the long-term parking buses rolled on by. Further down, near the baggage claim, people spilled out onto the sidewalk, happy to be home or, at least, to have arrived.

  Seamus pointed at the corner where a bench was bolted to the wall. Cosy but not completely hidden. Anyone who passed them by would know they were together, assuming, of course, they looked into the shadows of the corner.

  “Were you always so young?” Chancey asked as he took his seat next to Seamus. Their thighs barely touched—warmth spreading through Chancey’s jeans.

  “I’m twenty-seven. Too young?”

  Chancey’s lips twitched into a half grin. “I dunno, forty-four too old?”

  “You know it’s not. Yer hot property, so you are. And I think you’re aware of that fact, Mr. Clearwater.”

  “I’ve heard it said.”

  “So what do we do?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “There’s so much I want to say, Chance.”

  “There’s so much I want to do.”

  “Aye, don’t mistake my wantin’ to talk for not wantin’ to do. If yer daughter weren’t here…”

  “Or your brother.”

  “Oh, he wouldn’t stop me. It’s yer girl, Dee.”

  “She knows we’re together,” Chancey said quietly. When he swallowed, his throat was like sandpaper. “But you’re right—and besides, once I start,” his voice dropped low, “I’m not stopping.”

  Seamus smiled, his fingers laced, elbows on his knees. He stared straight ahead. “That so?”

  “That’s so.”

  “Well, I think I can accommodate that. But we still have an hour’s drive to Patrick and Aidan’s… And as much as I want to ask you to leave Dee with strangers and steal you away to a hotel…” he trailed off. “Gotta make a good impression on her.”

  Jesus.

  <<< >>>

  Paddy and Dee were no more than ten yards away, but on the other side of the window, their faces upturned as they followed the path of a British Airways jet across the sky. Dee looked so tiny standing next to Paddy, a wee young thing enthralled by the wonder of this trip, visiting new places, meeting new people. Seamus trailed a fingertip over the smooth glass, tracing Dee’s outline, his eyes trained on the movement. “I brought Michael with me.”

  Chancey offered no response. Seamus slowly turned towards him, keeping his eyes averted at first, knowing that once he met Chancey’s gaze he’d be locked in, and the words would fail him again.

  “Nothin’ ulterior. Just I’ve known the kid for months, and all he ever talks about is coming to America. He’s gone out sightseein’ with a friend of Aidan’s.” Seamus glanced up. Fatal mistake. Chancey stared right back at him, his eyes blazing and intense, but no anger. Heat…and more. Was that…

  Chancey looked away. “You care a lot about him, don’t you?”

  “Aye. I do. He’s had a hell of a time. You still jealous, Chance?”

  “No,” Chancey confirmed with a chuckle and met Seamus’s gaze again. “You care about Dee too.”

  “Very much. She’s the most important thing in your life, and if I want to stay a part of that life…I’ve got no choice in the matter, not that I’m doing it for your sake. I mean, I like Dee, and she’s important to me, but…” Seamus smirked at his own ineptitude and looked past Chancey, trying to recompose. He swallowed and started over. “Let’s go with I’m a caring kind of guy, and you and me being together makes Dee family.”

  The smile that lit Chancey’s face set Seamus’s heart racing, and his eyes shifted until he was staring at Chancey’s mouth, the tip of his tongue darting across his lower lip before he bit down on it. Seamus fought to drag his attention away, as the urge to do what he’d told Paddy he’d do was about to get the better of him. His leg shifted involuntarily, firming the contact between their thighs. In that moment, all the willpower in the world couldn’t have moved them apart again.

  “I need a smoke,” Chancey said, his voice a husky, deep whisper.

  <<< >>>

  He wished Dee had chosen to sit with him, because Chancey was all too aware of himself beside Seamus in the small back seat. They still hadn’t touched beyond that groin-hardening press of their outer thighs, and Chancey was now purposely leaning against the door, afraid to lose control and embarrass himself in front of his daughter and Seamus’s brother. But getting Dee to sit by him when she had the handsome Patrick Williams charming her with his easy-going stories? Never. His daughter had gone from instacrush to full-on smitten in the time it took them to leave the airport.

  Even though they weren’t talking, weren’t even looking at each other, Chancey could feel Seamus there. He closed his eyes and ears against the sounds of his daughter prattling at Patrick, and imagined what it was going to be like once they pulled open that gate and he came out, riding the bronc. Goddamn, pun intended.

  This drive was interminable. An hour felt like a hundred hours, and Chancey’s head began to buzz. It was the intense anxiety he’d felt being back on the plane, except now it was like an impatient itching, something that went beyond impatience.

  By the time they finally turned into Patrick’s neighbourhood, Chancey had about lost his mind. He practically leapt from the car as
Patrick pulled up the drive, barely waiting until they were at a full stop. With only a passing glance at the house and the large maple tree, both lovely he was sure, Chancey strode to the street and lit himself a cigarette.

  “This the new place?” Seamus asked, his voice carrying to Chancey. “She’s a beauty.”

  “I figured Aidan and I are making this official, we needed a house,” Patrick said. “A home fit for a family. Besides, with Lily due next month, we had to have room for our new little prince.”

  “Already spoilin’ the nephew, and he isn’t even born.”

  “Isn’t that what good uncles do?”

  Chancey listened to them, his nerves easing with the space, the fresh air, or alternately, the nicotine. He turned back to them, a little more ready to face socialising now that he was out of the car.

  Patrick’s fiancé, Aidan, had emerged from the house.

  “You aren’t just going to stand out in the driveway, are you?” He walked up to Patrick and stretched up into a romantic kiss that Patrick immediately deepened.

  When they broke, Aidan looked flushed and embarrassed. Chancey was half-surprised Aidan didn’t stumble, drunk off the kiss, as he approached Dee.

  “Are you Deidra?”

  She nodded, suddenly shy again.

  “Thanks for coming for our wedding. We’re really excited you and your father could be here.”

  “You’re…you’re a man.” Dee blinked, all expression having drained off her face.

  Aidan grinned at her, unconsciously running a hand over his hair. “Last I checked, yes.”

  “I…well, Daddy said we were going to a wedding and…” Her voice got small, fragile, and Chancey bit down on the inside of his cheek to keep from pulling her out of the hole she was digging. She had to learn to navigate these sorts of awkward situations herself. She looked puzzled for another minute and then asked, “Any chance Patrick also likes girls? Like my dad does?”

  Aidan glanced over at his fiancé, who shrugged helplessly. “No, I don’t think so.”

  There was another long moment, where Chancey watched his daughter stand on the precipice between child and young lady. She could fall back into a tantrum or play it off—a step forward or a step back. She blinked and then sighed into an easy-going smile.