Patchwork Paradise

by Indra Vaughn

  I couldn’t blame him. We napped when he napped, and my favorite thing, too, was being held by Thomas while we dozed.

  On Sunday night, Milo went to sleep at eight. Maybe he was as tired from the weekend as we were. We collapsed on the couch. I was about to reach for the remote to see if we could watch a movie, when Thomas’s hand crept toward my leg.

  “Oh, no,” I said, crawling away from him. “Don’t even think about it.”

  He withdrew his hand with a startled look. “Is . . . Are we okay? Did I do something wrong?”

  “Every time you touch me, Milo wakes up and starts crying. I can’t deal with more crying right now, so hands to yourself.”

  Thomas smirked. “I see.” He folded his hands in his lap and faced the TV. I turned it on. And waited. He didn’t try to touch me again.

  Well, damn.

  I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. It could be a smile tugging at his mouth, or he could really be into Midsomer Murders. It was hard to tell. I tried to pay attention to the gazillion killings that always seemed to happen in a town of two hundred people, but I kept being drawn to Thomas. Was he seriously not going to make another move?

  I let my hand creep toward him.

  “Oh, no,” he said. “Hands to yourself, Ollie. Stick to your own rules.”

  My hand kept on creeping. When I was nearly touching the fabric of his shorts, he grabbed my wrist and held it. He kneeled up on the couch and loomed over me as I sank deeper and deeper against the armrest. “What if he wakes up?” he asked as he pressed my hands above my head. I shifted so I could cradle his hips between my legs and we were stretched out with him on top of me.

  “I take full responsibility,” I whispered, and then he was kissing me like there was no tomorrow.

  We’d made out quite a lot this weekend, but not like this. Not with his whole body against mine. I was aware of the hardness of him all over, but mostly where he pushed into my groin, hot and wanting.

  “Thomas,” I whispered, my voice coming out reedy. “If this gets cut short again, I’m going to have to wank in the shower. I’m really sorry, but I won’t be able to stand it if—”

  “I know, shh.” He mouthed at my neck, flicked my earlobe with his tongue, and I squirmed and panted and made needy noises until I felt his hand between us, undoing first my shorts and then his. “Lift your hips a bit.”

  “Oh God,” I breathed, and did as I was told. He let go of my hand, and I immediately petted his hair, his neck, his shoulders, and then, oh, glorious freedom. “Waitwaitwait.”

  Thomas froze. “What?”

  “Lemme see. I wanna see.” I lifted up his T-shirt and Hmm, lovely. “Oh yeah.” He was big enough, but not huge, with a nice girth and a mushroom cap I wanted—

  “You’re making me self-conscious,” he said. When I looked up, he really was blushing.

  “Aw, baby.” I filled my fist with the silky skin of his cock and squeezed, relishing how his eyes drooped shut and a small groan gushed from his mouth. “This is all yummy, nummy goodness.”

  He shoved my T-shirt out of the way and rubbed my belly, just above my pubic hair. I used to groom with Sam, but I hadn’t bothered in a long time. Thomas didn’t seem to mind. His palm tickled my pubes. He grabbed the base of my cock, and I thought fireworks might burst from my ears.

  “Move your hand,” he told me, and I let go. He sank down so we fit together nicely, wrapped his large paw around the both of us, and moved his hips in a slow, sensuous glide. Our foreskins rubbed together, and my ass clenched as I threw my head back. Thomas kissed my throat, gently lapped at my Adam’s apple, and squeezed his hand around us.

  “I am so not going to last,” I told him, and he laughed against my jaw.

  “Probably a good thing, since the baby will wake up soon.”

  The baby. It should’ve been a mood killer, but instead, a different kind of warmth unfurled in my belly. For now though, I pushed the thought aside, grabbed Thomas’s ass, parted my knees wider, and wriggled closer.

  “Jerk me off, Thomas,” I whispered in his ear. “I need to come all over you.”

  He kissed me deeply, and I let him overwhelm me, body and soul. He smelled delicious, he felt even better, and he kissed like a god. It took no time at all for the muscles in my buttocks to tighten as the climax built in my groin. It wasn’t going to be an earth-shattering orgasm—I wouldn’t last long enough for that—and yet in that moment it was the sweetest thing I’d ever experienced.

  “Thomas,” I whispered, clinging to his shoulders. His head dropped to the crook of my neck and nodded. He let go of himself and concentrated on me, and I managed to bite down on his T-shirt in time to muffle the shout. The first spurt of come slicked his grip, and the sound his fist made around my cock was obscene, but I shuddered and hung on, unable to care.

  Before I came down, I wriggled a hand between us, found his cock, and stroked him. “I want to blow you,” I murmured in his ear.

  “Oh God, no.”

  “What?”

  “Ah fuck, I meant, gnnn, if you do that, I want it to last more than a second. Jesus, Ollie, can you—”

  “Oh.” I released the death grip on his dick and petted it a little in apology. “Sorry. I thought you meant—”

  “I know.” He lifted his head and looked at me. His irises had been almost completely swallowed by his pupils, and with his hair covering his forehead in thick, sweaty peaks, he was beyond edible. I moved my hand over his cock and rubbed my thumb over the head, under the foreskin, and watched a dark-red flush creep along his throat. His cheeks were mottled pink with arousal, and his thighs shook with the effort of holding himself up so I could stroke him. He was falling apart, and he was all mine.

  I shifted to the side a little so Thomas could lie between me and the back of the couch. I leaned up on one elbow. I kissed him while I familiarized myself with what he liked and what he loved, until I could feel the tension in him ratchet up. I gave him what he needed. He buried his face against my shoulder and orgasmed quietly, come hitting his T-shirt and bare belly. As I watched him come down, my stomach clenched a little and I closed my eyes. Oh, Sam.

  In that moment, I had to make a choice. I could let Sam come between us and ruin these precious minutes, or I could truly let him go. I opened my eyes and saw Thomas look at me like he knew what I was thinking. I didn’t know if I was ready to make that choice, but life—and love—didn’t wait for opportune times. Even wanting to be happy here with anyone but Sam fed the pit of guilt that gnawed at my stomach.

  Thomas gently caressed my cheek, and I leaned into his touch. The idea of giving up on this, on the other hand, made me feel infinitely worse.

  I pursed my lips, taking in the mess we’d made of ourselves. “So, you ready for round two?”

  His eyes widened, and he laughed as he pulled me down for a kiss.

  “Fuck,” he murmured and pressed our foreheads together. “That was really—”

  “Fast? Belated? Overdue?”

  He chuckled. “Great. I was going to say great. And now I’m going to want to do it all the time, and—”

  Right on cue, Milo began to cry.

  I came home on Monday with a box full of fresh groceries to find the house oddly subdued. Mom was in the kitchen, preparing dinner, and I spotted Thomas and Milo doing laps around the yard. Every once in a while he’d point at something, then walk along.

  Stan had emailed me again, and I had one eye on my phone as I yanked open the fridge to put the milk away first.

  “I’ll do that,” she said.

  I froze as Stan’s words registered.

  “Well, this is it.”

  “What is it?” Mom peered at my phone. “I can’t read that without my glasses.”

  “Sam’s parents agreed to me buying out the house.”

  “Oh, Oliver.” My mom covered her mouth. Her eyes hardened. “I can’t believe those people. How dare they go against their son’s wishes like that!”

  “Money a
nd grief is a weird combination,” I said, even as my stomach dropped to the floor. I hadn’t allowed myself to think of it too much so far, but this meant I’d have to give up every single penny of my savings as down payment or the bank wouldn’t grant me the loan. I’d have nothing in reserve.

  Mom squeezed my arm. “What are you going to do? Are you sure the house is worth it?”

  “It’s my home,” I whispered. “I can’t stand the thought of giving it up.”

  She studied me carefully. “If you’re just trying to hang on to Sam’s memory . . .”

  I shook my head. “It’s more than that. I mean, yes, he’s part of it, but not because I can’t let go of him.” I hadn’t entirely yet, but I didn’t tell her that. “It’s a wonderful house. I don’t want to live anywhere else. And if I sold it, with my fifty percent I’d never be able to afford anything even half as nice as this. I want to do whatever I can to keep it.”

  “Okay.” Her face was drawn with worry. “Just don’t overextend yourself.”

  “Thomas said he’d help,” I told her, although the idea soured my stomach.

  We both turned to the window and watched Milo and Thomas explore the garden. “That’s a short-term solution, Ollie. And one you need to be careful with.” I frowned at her, but she sighed. “You might want to talk to Thomas anyway. He seemed a little down this morning.”

  My heart skipped a beat. “What? Why?” Had I done something wrong the night before? No, we’d changed and fed Milo, and we’d gone straight to sleep in my bed. He’d kissed me awake that morning, right before Milo began to cry, and he’d been playful and happy when I left. It couldn’t be about us. Could it?

  “Go on.” She nudged me out the door. I stepped onto the patio, hands damp with nervous sweat. It was still warm out, even though a dark rain cloud covered the western sky.

  “Hey.” I stuffed my hands in my pockets, and Thomas turned around. He looked tired but had a smile for me, and my heart settled a little when he gave me a chaste but lingering kiss. “Hey, little buddy,” I said to Milo. He made a pouty face and stuck out his tongue. “That’s how the cool kids say hello these days, huh?” I turned my attention back to Thomas. “What’s up?”

  He tilted his head from side to side and sighed. “Liesbeth called today. She wants to see Milo on Wednesday afternoon.”

  “Oh. And that’s bad?”

  “I don’t know. What if she wants to get out of the clinic early? What if she wants to come home and take Milo?”

  “Okay, deep breath.” I put my hand on his shoulder, and he kissed my knuckles. “You’re worrying too much about this. And I get that’s what parents do, but this isn’t you.”

  “I know,” he said. “I know. My entire world has changed. For the better. I don’t want to lose this. But maybe she’s well enough now. I mean, obviously I want his mom to be well. But what if she won’t want me to keep Milo at all? God, he’s hard work. He cries so much. I had no idea babies did that. On the other hand, to think that I won’t see him every day . . .” His face twisted, and I put my arms around him, careful not to squash Milo. Thomas leaned his head against mine.

  “It will be okay,” I said. “You have legal rights. Even if she comes home early, you can get a lawyer and draw up a contract saying he’s with you fifty percent of the time. You work part time now and—”

  “I can’t keep doing that forever, Ollie. I have to pay my rent and pay you. And my house is really not childproof. Who’s going to babysit him once I’m back home? I can’t stay here forever, can I? My dad? He loves me, but he loves his retirement more. And your mom can’t drive to my place every day.”

  “No,” I said, “but you could drop him off at her place on your way to work, if it came to that. You could slowly start looking for a place to live closer to town. Or . . .” I toed the grass with my shoe. “You could move in here. Permanently.”

  He took a small step back. “Ollie . . .”

  “I know. Just think about it.”

  Thomas blew out a hot breath through his nose. I was startled to see he was actually angry. “I can’t. I can’t risk everything. You understand that, don’t you? Give up my home and live here with Milo, and what if it doesn’t work out?”

  “Then we deal with that at the time. I’m not going to force you, obviously, but you could sublet your place to someone using short-term contracts. And I really hope you don’t think I’d kick you out on the street if we broke up.”

  “No, of course not,” he said. “I know you’d never do anything that could hurt Milo, but life happens.” His voice gentled a little. “You of all people should know that. What if something went wrong? I know you wouldn’t kick me out, but I’d have to look for somewhere else to live, and uproot Milo again. I . . . I can’t do it. I’m sorry.”

  That stung. And it wasn’t like I’d fought and won my own battle with guilt over Sam, this house, or loving someone else. At least I was ready to try. Maybe my expectations were unrealistic. Of course he would look out for Milo. I shouldn’t be childish about this. Milo came first. My heart hurt nonetheless.

  “It’s only an idea. You can think about it,” I said again and tried to smile.

  He stopped me before I could walk away. “Ollie. It’s more than just Milo.”

  “What?”

  He ran his fingers through my hair and held me gently by the back of the neck. It sent a hot shiver down my spine whenever he did that. “I don’t want us to step into this domestic routine of parenthood before we’ve had a chance to even explore the honeymoon phase. No beginning of a relationship should be about diapers and midnight feedings and being too exhausted for sex.”

  “So, what?” I demanded, my annoyance finally bleeding through. “You want to wait until he’s off bottles? Out of diapers? Going to college? This is life, Thomas, as you so nicely pointed out earlier.” He winced, but I pushed on. “And I want to share it with you. No relationship should end because someone got stabbed, either. I dealt with it. This isn’t easy for me. Dealing with Milo . . .” I looked down. Milo was sucking on his fist. Soon he wouldn’t be waiting so patiently for his bottle. “It’s my pleasure. I love the little guy, and I hope someday I can prove to you just how true that is.”

  “I’m not doubting you.”

  That stopped me short. “Then what? You doubt yourself? I’m not expecting a marriage proposal here, but I thought we could at least—”

  “This is scaring me to death,” he whispered. He walked away from me a little, tugged at his hair, and turned back. “Two weeks ago I had nothing but my tiny house and my job. Suddenly I have a son and I have you. Before, I couldn’t miss what I didn’t have. But now . . . what if I lose you both?”

  Everything crashed down on me. Sam’s parents, the house, the guilt over falling for Thomas while Sam still lived so close to my heart. It wasn’t fair. Not to Sam. And not to Thomas either. My heart thudded wildly, and I couldn’t take it.

  “You don’t know the meaning of loss,” I snapped. “You don’t know what it means to drag yourself out of bed day after day, realizing the person you loved more than anything isn’t here anymore. There were days when I screamed at the universe. There were days when I didn’t want to get out of bed at all. Ever again. But I pushed myself out of that. I’m here now, and I’m taking a huge risk again, although I feel really torn about it sometimes. But at least I’m willing to try. For you.”

  “Are you sure it’s for me, Ollie? Because it sounds like you’re still in love with Sam. Maybe it’s not me you want. Maybe it’s someone to help you pay your mortgage.”

  I gasped. Thomas looked stricken, but while I stood there trying to make sense of what he’d said, he remained silent.

  “Wow,” I whispered.

  “Ollie, I—”

  “We’re both tired,” I interrupted, staring out into the garden. “We don’t have to make any big decisions right now. You go to Liesbeth on Wednesday and see what she says. We can deal with everything else later.”

  Tho
mas nodded miserably and gently swayed side to side to soothe Milo. “Okay.”

  He bent down, and I turned away a little so the kiss landed on my cheek. His eyes flashed with hurt. I wanted to apologize but didn’t.

  He was afraid of losing what he had. If there was one sentiment I could understand, it was that one. I’d lost everything once, and I was on the verge of putting my heart on the line again. Now that the idea had taken form, I couldn’t shake it. Resentment nibbled at me until the ache grew deeper. If I could risk it, then why couldn’t he?

  I went home early on Wednesday. No matter how much I kept the smile plastered on my face and reassured Thomas that all would be fine, in reality nerves made me consume twice my daily amount of coffee. I made phone calls and wrote emails to get the ball rolling on acquiring the mortgage, which didn’t help my mood. Eventually I had enough.

  My brain buzzed with caffeine overload the whole tram ride home, and I was pretty sure people were eyeing me suspiciously. I didn’t care. I practically ran home from the tram stop and fell through the door, only to have Thomas shush me as I kicked off my shoes in the hallway. He tugged me into the living room and quietly shut the door.

  “Milo went down for a nap.”

  “How did it go? Where’s Mom? Did you eat? What did Liesbeth say?”

  Thomas’s eyes grew larger with each question. In the end he shut my mouth with his. Without breaking contact, he dragged me to the couch, pushed me down, and cushioned my fall with his arms.

  “You taste . . . caffeinated,” he said, and laughed. “Your mom went home when I got back from work, dinner is in the oven, and Milo is fine. Listen, about the other—”

  I wasn’t ready for that conversation, so I grabbed his button-up and tried to shake him, which wasn’t easy from my position. “How. Did. It. Go?”

  He grinned and kissed me again, so I figured it couldn’t have gone too badly. For a moment I let him have his way with me, because, oh God, I really needed to get him all to myself for one night. Just one night. Was that really too much to— He dug his tongue into my ear, and I yelped.