by Rhys Ford
“And what’d they say?”
“That I was a fucking idiot to think they would walk away from me.” The emotions Mace held in all day broke and pierced through the thin layer of control he had left. A sob ripped through him, and its serrated edges tore him apart.
Fear was too small a word for what he’d held inside of him for so long. Without his family—without his brothers—he’d be too devastated to go on. They were everything holding him together, weathered and beaten leather straps fastened tightly around the pieces of himself he’d picked up and tried to make a man out of. They’d given him purpose and salvation, and he’d been so frightened to lose them that he hadn’t trusted them to help him with what he needed the most—to be free of the man who’d broken him and then remade him in his own image.
“Do they still love you?” Rob’s laughter mocked him. “Because I spent the day with them, and they seem fine to me. Jules even came by with the kid, and they all talked about having a barbecue when you felt better. Or are you calling me from a cardboard box behind the grocery store because they’ve kicked you out?”
“I would tell you to fuck off, but that would probably end my chances of a date.” He shook his head and ground his teeth slightly at Rob’s derisive snort. “They still love me. And yeah, you were right. Is that what you called to hear?”
“No. I called to hear your voice.” The line was silent for a few moments, and then Rob said, “I visited you in the hospital, but you were never awake when I was there, so I guess I never heard you say you were okay. And it’s silly because you almost killed yourself coming to see me—”
“I did not almost kill myself,” he objected. “Despite what my brothers think.”
“I saw you. You were one step away from a frizzy-haired doctor strapping you to an operating table and lifting you up so lightning could hit you. Throw in some werewolves and neighing horses and you would’ve been all set to go.” Rob sighed. “What is it about you that you think you need to be invincible? That symbol your dad carved into your back wasn’t an S, but that doesn’t mean you have to try to make it one. It’s okay to fuck up, and it’s okay to say you need help, dude. We all need help sometimes.”
“That’s the hardest thing for me to say. Hardest thing for me to ask for. Right before telling people what I need or want.” Mace echoed Rob’s exhale. “I’ll try to do better. I promise.”
“Good. You do that.” Rob’s whisper grew husky. “Because there’s nothing hotter than a guy who knows what he wants—and can tell me about it—when we’re in bed.”
Seventeen
“IF YOU guys need anything, please let me know.” Mace’s Cantonese stumbled, forcing him to patch in English words when he reached the end of his knowledge. On the other end of the phone, Mrs. Hwang didn’t seem to mind. Her cheery voice was a welcome balm to Mace’s troubled mind. “Mrs. Hwang—”
“No, no, no. Do not call me that.” The silence on the phone was loud enough to hush Mace before he went any further, but then Mrs. Hwang remarked in a gentle, scolding voice, “You called me grandmother—Po Po—in the garage. After those men shot us. It helped me get through the pain, knowing how you felt. So I would not mind if you called me that. Grandma Yu, okay?”
Mace dug his fingers into Earl’s ruff and scratched his nails through the mutt’s coarse fur. The dog’s weight against his thigh was welcome, although he could have done without Earl digging his back paws into his hip. The sectional was a comfortable retreat for Mace, someplace he could listen to the house and sip his coffee while he talked to a woman who could have broken his heart if she wanted to.
He hadn’t expected her to heal, so the words he found spilling out of his brain were disjointed and probably the worst Cantonese he’d ever spoken, but Mace was going to try anyway.
“I’d be honored to call you grandmother,” he choked out. “Just get better so you can come home and cook for me. Right now I am at my brothers’ house and the food is horrible. Nobody knows how to make xiao long bao, and don’t get me started on their chow fun. Besides, I still have to put those shelves up for you, and I need you there so I don’t hang them too high, because I am tall and you are short.”
She hurled gentle abuse back at him, and after a few promises to get better wrapped around an admonishment for him to do the same, his grandmother hung up and left Mace holding a warm phone in his hand. The dog, sensing he had Mace’s full attention, rolled over for a belly rub, and his back paw connected solidly with Mace’s chin.
“Dammit, mutt,” Mace grumbled, giving in to the dog’s demands. “And what did you roll in? Did you get into the herbs? Because you kind of smell like Italian food. Bear is going to skin you alive if he goes outside and finds his rosemary is flat again.”
“That’s a lie if ever I heard one,” a very familiar and welcome voice called out from behind him.
Earl scrambled to get off of the couch, startled by an intruder he hadn’t heard coming in, but in true Earl fashion, he was more interested in reading the new person than defending Mace against attack. Although, he realized, Rob was a part of Earl’s day-to-day life, and he probably saw Rob more than he ever saw Mace.
Carrying in a couple of plastic takeout bags from a taco shop down the street, he was dressed for work in a pair of old jeans, a T-shirt from a band whose members got inked at the shop, and a pair of scuffed black boots in need of a shine. His ink-black hair was a riot of spikes, the ends an intense sapphire blue with a hint of violet. A broad white smile creased Rob’s tanned face, and his plumped cheeks were marked with dimples.
Rob’s joy at seeing him grabbed Mace’s heart and squeezed hard.
“Settle down, dog. You didn’t even notice me knocking at the front door,” Rob scolded when Earl flung himself at him. Lifting the bags up out of dog nose reach, Rob nudged a very interested Earl out of the way with his knee. With a soft woof, Earl declared his disapproval at the food’s distance and snuffled at Mace’s foot. “I hope you’re hungry, because I grabbed some food for us. Since I didn’t know what you liked, I have a carne asada burrito, a carnitas burrito, a pollo asado quesadilla, and a couple of containers of elote. There was a fish burrito, but I had to pay a toll at the door to Ivo, and since I’m working with him and Bear in a couple of hours, I thought it best to give him what he wanted.”
“Don’t take this wrong, but if ever you have a fish burrito, please feel free to give it to him.” Mace straightened up but winced when he jostled his shoulder. “Hope he eats it on the way over, because Bear will want half.”
“That’s his problem. I was also told to make sure you took your painkillers.” Rob set the bag down on the couch next to Mace. “So consider yourself reminded.”
Watching Rob unpack food onto the ottoman was probably the most domestic experience Mace had ever had. His encounters with men were nearly always physical in nature—a quick hot bout of sex someplace Mace could walk away from—and he purposely kept his relationships shallow. There were men who intimately knew his body, but Mace didn’t even know their last names. Then Rob happened. He couldn’t imagine sharing anything as personal as his dislike for fish burritos with any of the men he’d been with before. It seemed like too intimate a detail, too much of a peek into his personal life, and a moment of disassociated sadness washed over him.
“What’s up?” Rob quirked an eyebrow at him, a curious gleam in his golden eyes. “You’ve got a weird look on your face. Haven’t you ever had a Mexican food picnic in your family room before? All the rage where I come from. Right up there with tea parties and ‘painting porcelain rabbit statue’ raves.”
“Sounds more like Wonderland than San Francisco there,” he teased as he took the handful of napkins Rob thrust at him.
“Babe, this is SF. It’s one step away from Wonderland. Only thing we’re missing is a mock turtle.” Rob began to stack hot sauces on the ottoman and arranged the plastic tubs by color. “Ivo told me I’m the first person you’ve had over here. Well, as he put it, first one Ma
ce fucked and the only one he’s let come back for seconds.”
“Sometimes I think we didn’t beat Ivo enough as a child, not that we beat him at all. There’s no filter there. He doesn’t think before he speaks.”
“He’s very trusting. Maybe it’s because he’s secure, like he knows he can do anything outrageous and you guys trust him not to go too far.” Rob snorted under his breath and added, “Of course a lot of people only see the skirt and high heels and not the guy who can fuck someone up if they push him. Learned that the first week I was there. But really, first guy you brought home? Who showed up with Mexican food and pushed his way past the gatekeeper?”
“Yep, first one. I don’t normally mingle pleasure with personal. Hookups? All the time. Relationships? No fucking clue about what to do,” he admitted in a soft voice. “So this is all kind of new to me. Am I supposed to kiss you hello? Offer you a drink? Which makes sense, because that’s what I would do to a friend, but this—you and I?—is a little bit more than friends.”
“Well, I’ve got a couple of bottles of water here, so we don’t need any drinks. Mostly I guess I hug people hello, but a kiss?” He smirked. Rob put one of his hands on the other side of Mace’s hips and precariously supported himself on his palm. “Not a bad idea.”
Rob’s lips were soft on his mouth. There was a bit of an ache along Mace’s collarbone, especially when Rob’s weight dipped the couch cushion down, and Mace couldn’t hold back a hiss of pain. He wanted to enjoy a slow, leisurely taste of Rob’s mouth and suckle on the plump of his lower lip, but the angle was all wrong, and his injury wasn’t going to let him wrap his arms around Rob’s waist and hold the man he longed to have straddle his lap. His cock flared into a hardened state. He knew how Rob’s hands would feel on his chest, how his nipples would respond to Rob’s fingers pinching at them, but Mace was going to have to be satisfied with a simple kiss.
Because he was in no condition for anything more.
Kisses were never gentle. In a lot of ways, they often mimicked the quick, hard sex Mace had with his partners. There was always a lot of give-and-take—mostly take—a profane amount of aggression, and a demand for more as each second went by.
This kiss was so very fucking different.
He could actually taste Rob in this kiss. There was an underlying sweetness, like a handful of pure water from a snow-fed stream. There were notes of brightness and a hint of blue, the ghost of mint toothpaste and something indescribably masculine. His tongue played with Mace’s, a gentle velvet tickle that rubbed first on Mace’s lower lip, overstimulated his nerves until they were nearly numb, and then slid into Mace’s mouth to stroke at the back of his teeth.
A heat built up between them—a sticky tapestry of tightening electrified threads. Mace drank deeply and cupped the back of Rob’s head with his good hand, his fingers tangled in Rob’s product-heavy coarse hair. He angled his mouth, seeking for a way to get more of what Rob was giving him, but then something in Mace shifted and the kiss slowed and became a languid dance of barely touching tongues and pressed lips.
The angle of Rob’s body leaning across of him was awkward, and the cushions shifted as they moved to get closer. Mace wanted nothing more than to plunge himself into Rob’s warm, willing body. He lusted for the press of Rob’s cockhead at the back of his throat and longed for the salty release he knew he could draw out of him. Yet their kiss was a delectable, fragile dance of tissue-thin control and a deeper emotion that Mace couldn’t quite name.
It all came crashing down around them in a clatter of Earl’s excited barks and Bear’s surprised “Shit, I’m sorry” booming through the family room. Rob’s tentative balance broke, and he toppled forward and slammed into Mace’s injured shoulder.
And while Mace would’ve liked to let out a manly grunt, he probably sounded more like the scream his mother made once when a rat ran across her foot.
What followed was a few minutes of panicked examinations and apologies, first from a horrified, contrite Rob, who scrambled off of Mace’s twisted body and then accidentally made matters worse by grabbing Mace’s sling, and then from a few pokes by a not-so-gentle Bear, who had to fight for space on the couch against a very concerned Earl.
“All of you, get off,” Mace ordered as he lightly shoved at the dog, who attempted to climb onto his lap the moment Mace yelped. “Earl, down. Bear, help me get the dog off of me. Rob, you’re fine. Just stay over there for right now.”
There were definitely stars, and his shoulder felt like it would burst into flames any moment, but it soon settled down to a hot throb once everyone gave him some space. Breathing heavily, Mace reached up to adjust his sling and stopped Bear from helping him with a hard glare.
“You probably need some painkillers. Did you already take some, or should I get them from the kitchen for you?” Bear’s massive body cast a long shadow over the couch. The apologetic look on Bear’s face would’ve been comical if he hadn’t seen it through a wash of tears. At Mace’s grunted please, Bear clicked his tongue at the dog. “I’ll grab them for you, and I’ll take Earl down with me to the shop. I swung by to see if you needed anything but—yeah, let me grab your medicine and I’ll just go.”
“I actually should get going too,” Rob said as he glanced at the clock on the wall. “Traffic’s always a bitch, and today’s probably going to be kind of awkward, considering my boss just caught me kissing his younger brother.”
“You can probably bribe him with the carnitas burrito,” Mace said through a hitch of pain. Then he laughed at Bear’s snort. “He already had to pay Ivo off just to get let into the house.” The burning began anew. “Okay, yeah. Pills would be good. And maybe a bottle of whiskey.”
“No alcohol,” Bear called back as he headed toward the kitchen.
“You okay?” Rob eased himself onto the ottoman, careful to steer clear of Mace. “Shit, I didn’t even—”
“No regrets. Okay?” Mace tried to lean forward, but another stroke of pain poured down his arm. “I’d ask for a kiss to make it better, but I think all that’s going to do is make me hard again.”
“Dude, your brother’s going to come right back. I don’t want him catching us doing anything else.”
“I think Bear knows I’m not a virgin. Pretty certain he knows you’re not one either.” Mace chuckled. “House rules are no sex in common areas. I’m pretty sure Rey and Gus have christened the kitchen counters and maybe the stairs. You and I just kissed.”
“Yeah, almost broke you while doing it.” Rob ducked his head back when Bear returned with a handful of pills and a glass of pink juice. “I’d stay and keep you company, but I’ve got a customer coming down in a little bit for a second session, and well, Bear’s here, so it’s not like I can call out sick. How about this? I can give you a call when I’m on break for lunch. It’ll be around four o’clock. Maybe by then your arm will feel better and you’ll have forgiven me for punching you in the shoulder.”
“I’ve got something better to suggest,” Bear interrupted. “How about if you ride down with me for the shift? And when it’s done, I’ll bring you back up here and you can have dinner with us.”
“That sounds like an excellent idea.” Mace grinned up at Bear. The throbbing in his shoulder was diminishing, but he chased after it with the painkillers Bear brought over for him. He hated the bitter taste on his tongue nearly as much as he did the numbing crash he would have in about ten minutes. “I’m going to be useless to the world in a little bit, but if you can swing dinner, I promise I’ll try to remain conscious through it.”
Rob’s face creased with another soul-brightening smile, and Mace heartily wished his brother to go either to hell or possibly another city—someplace far enough away to give Mace time to kiss Rob senseless once again.
“It’s a date.” Rob dug through the plastic bag and came up with a wrapped burrito. “So, we’re back to our original question of what burrito do you want? Carne asada, carnitas, or the pollo asado quesadilla? And don’t ask me
what I want. I’m going to get whatever is left over, because Bear’s my boss and I owe him for not killing me when I nearly tore off your arm. Well, and for the dinner invite, because so far, other than your kiss, that’s the best thing that’s happened to me today.”
ARGUMENTS WERE commonplace in Mace’s family. Some people had pancakes on Sunday. Other families had movie nights together. Mace’s band of brothers pretty much guaranteed a disagreement about something minor would flare up at least once a week. Normally cooler heads prevailed and the loser in the argument skulked off to sulk for a few hours and then came back and pretended like nothing happened.
This time was different, or at least for Mace it was. This time he wasn’t going to give in, even if he was the only one on that side of the battle.
Because he was going to be damned if he didn’t move back into his own apartment soon.
“Look, let’s discuss this rationally,” Luke said as he leaned over the back of the couch. “If you’re going to have a family meeting, we have to agree—again—to hear each other out.”
He’d been in the sun lately, probably working the raised gardens at the center he started for their young clients to care for and take home fresh vegetables. His cheekbones were slightly pinked, but the rest of his face had already deepened to a rich gold, adding a luster to his dark eyes. He was using his counseling voice, a smooth baritone meant to ease a troubled person into talking. At the moment the only thing Luke accomplished was to piss Mace off.
“This isn’t a family meeting.” Mace’s objection appeared to fall on deaf ears, especially when the others murmured to agree with Luke. Pacing near one end of the sectional, he cleared his throat, but none of the brothers paid any attention to him.