by Willa Okati
Still. They’d always made it up. She wouldn’t think the worst now. It was believe that or give up, and Tuck? No way he’d quit after coming this far.
Only…
As soon as Tuck judged Hannah to be out of earshot, he stopped three steps above Cade, watching him carefully. “I’m going to ask you something, and you need to answer me.”
Cade stood as still as a statue, but that didn’t reach all the way to his eyes. He inclined his head.
“One bed,” Tuck said. “Was it just for the girls, saying so, or are you really okay with that?”
Cade didn’t say anything, not at first. But he touched his lips, still slightly red from being kissed. He swallowed hard enough for Tuck to see the jerk of his throat. “I don’t know.”
He meant it. Even if he did turn fast and thump down the stairs in too much of a hurry for the narrow treads, that’d been the truth.
Tuck stayed behind, his head busy. That, what’d just happened, that was…enough to make a man wonder.
Enough to make him hope.
He’d started to doubt, hadn’t he? Thomas throwing him for a loop sure hadn’t helped.
But there was that kiss. That one good moment when they hit Richmond. What’d happened in his apartment, the night Cade said yes.
They weren’t over. He wasn’t the only one thinking that now, was he? Or had he ever been?
And you know what? Maybe it’s smart, maybe it’s not, but it’s about damn time I got busy doing something about that again.
Starting now.
Chapter Seven
Tuck was pleased to see Cade, Hannah, and Megan deep into chatter when he carried drink refills for all outside on the veranda. Suzie-Q had draped herself contentedly just below the broad steps and fallen asleep in the grass, paddling her legs and dreaming of chasing cars. Did his heart good to see these things. He could almost even overlook Thomas’s presence.
Better still for Tuck to see Cade nod at him as he joined them, no prompting needed.
“We now join your regularly scheduled conversation already in progress?” Tuck leaned over Cade to pass the glasses of iced tea. “What did I miss?”
“Nosy,” Megan said. She and Cade fingered cubes of ice out of their drinks at the same time and crunched down.
Tuck shared a look with Hannah, filled with mirth between the two of them.
“You look better,” she remarked out loud. “If dunking your head in the sink is that much of a pause that refreshes, I should try.”
“Eh,” Tuck said, neither confirming nor denying. The fresh start did more for him, but he’d keep that to himself. He sat slightly behind and to Cade’s side. “Come on. You know I’m a buttinski. Fill a guy in.”
Megan pretended to groan like a woman in serious pain drawing on her last scraps of stoicism. “We’re talking wedding crap. What do you think?”
“I think you’re living proof that romance is dead,” Hannah said.
“I think you’ve got a winner who’s actually willing to marry you, and you ought to treat her like one,” Tuck shot back.
Megan made a face. “Stop being rational. I’m in a mood.” She laid her head on Hannah’s lap. “Sorry, babe.”
Tuck reached over Cade, even if it was an awkward angle, to snag a chip of ice to crunch on. Even odds whether Cade would turn to frown at him or shake his head in wry amusement and let it pass.
Didn’t matter. The point was to remind Cade he was there and staying.
“Define wedding crap,” he directed the girls.
A flicker of a smile ghosted across Cade’s lips. “You always did have a silver tongue,” he murmured, and hey, that wasn’t bad at all. Tuck would take banter.
“Born a charmer and I’ll be a charmer till the day I die.” Tuck made a second stretch to snag another piece of ice. “Seriously. Anything I can help with, ladies?”
“Not unless you know any good private eyes.”
Jeez. Tuck refused to react. “How come?”
Hannah bit at her thumbnail. “We wanted to see if Father Michael would come.”
A Catholic priest at a lesbian wedding? Not usually a recipe for success. But Father Michael… He’d been different. Worlds away from other men of the cloth and a good guy all on his own.
“So what’s the problem?” Tuck asked.
“He left the church,” Thomas said in that low baritone of his. “Not long after Hannah and Megan came of age and left St. Pius.”
Tuck blinked at him. This was news enough to make him put aside, just for the moment, his issues with Tommy-boy. “You’re shitting me.”
“Silver,” Cade murmured.
Was he easing up? Tuck thought maybe so. Subtlety, not one of his strengths, but he was giving serious thought to learning the art.
“Yeah, yeah.” Tuck kneaded his shoulder as if it were still natural between them. “When? Why?”
“I don’t know,” Megan answered instead of Thomas. “But when he left, he left good. I tried to track him down, but I’d have better luck bagging and tagging Jason Bourne. Mmm. Jason Bourne.”
Hannah swatted her. “So now you have a crush on a man?”
“I’m bisexual, not blind.” Megan crunched ice. “And I’m marrying you, aren’t I? Damon’s some sweet eye candy, yes, but otherwise? Bourne, schmourne.”
Tuck hid a chuckle behind his hand.
“I think we should leave him in peace,” Cade said gently but firmly. “He might not appreciate the past coming back to the present.”
“Yeah, well.” Megan sat upright and resettled the chopsticks in her hair. “I sent an invitation to his last known address. We could get lucky again. And besides, even if he doesn’t want to come, he’ll know we still care. He’d fit here. Like peanut butter and jelly.”
“If you like PB&J,” Cade said.
“Who doesn’t? Unless you’re allergic to peanuts. That’s got to suck,” Tuck mused. “There’s other examples. BLTs. Ice cream sundaes with cherries on top…”
There. He’d set the two girls off on discussions about what did and didn’t go together. Tuck listened long enough to hear Megan launch into an old-school argument for ketchup on ice cream and for Cade to shudder before he bent and whispered next to Cade’s ear, “Ice cream with ketchup isn’t bad. Try it sometime.”
Cade stilled. “What are you doing?”
“Just proving a point.”
“And that is?”
Tuck tweaked Cade’s collar back. “That if you give me an inch, I’m going to take a mile.”
Now. Tuck dropped the chunk of ice, concealed in his palm for just this occasion, down Cade’s back and jumped away before Cade could finish convulsing and smack him.
That would’ve been good. What happened was even better: Cade laughed, a real laugh, even if it held more than a thin edge of surprise. He twisted his shoulders and swiveled his hips. “You—little—shit!” He pivoted fully in his chair and stood to untuck his shirt and shake out the melting, freezing ice.
“Champion!” Tuck raised his arms in the victor’s salute while Megan and Hannah rocked with laughter.
“Oh God,” Megan said, tears in her eyes. “Cade, you should have seen your face!”
“You think that’s funny, do you?”
“I really do.”
Cade scowled. He bent to pick up the ice and dropped it down Tuck’s shirt front. He pressed his hand to the ice and rubbed hard, sending Tuck yelping and wriggling to and fro.
Tuck grinned up at Cade, as cheeky as he could possibly be.
“You,” Cade said, the rest of the world and all fading out around them, leaving nothing but Cade in his line of sight. “You’re unbelievable. You do know that.” He drew his thumb over Tuck’s cheekbone. “And you never do change.”
“I am what I am,” Tuck said. “Don’t be surprised when I prove it.” He loosely encircled Cade’s waist and coaxed the man back down on the step beside him. Sitting thus, they mirrored the pose Hannah and Megan had subsided into. “So. How piss
ed are you?”
Cade’s glare was so clearly feigned that it delighted Tuck. “I’m still deciding.”
Pure instinct moved Tuck to brush Cade’s lips with his own. Not much of a kiss, more of a tease, but the way Cade reacted couldn’t have been better: a quick smile he couldn’t hide and that did reach his eyes.
It must have looked as cozy as it felt, being in Cade’s arms. Like lovers ought to be. Funny, that, when Cade was saying, “You never change. Can anyone? Really? I mean, I try, and I try, but—” He shut his mouth with a snap, shook his head, and subsided into the thoughtfulness of a tangled mind.
Tuck told himself it didn’t matter, as long as he had Cade in his arms; he’d take what came next as it came.
Thomas sat just beyond them. Part of the crowd but not at the heart of it. Tuck nodded at him, once.
Thomas did the same, but with eyes for Cade and Cade alone, not Tuck.
Ten years past time he did something about that too, Tuck thought. But later. Right now, Megan squirmed out of Hannah’s arms and turned around to kneel on one of the veranda steps. Best pay attention.
“Now?” she asked Hannah.
“No patience,” Hannah chided her. She kissed Megan’s temple. “Okay, okay. For starters, and since we all have fine crystal at hand—” Hannah lifted her glass. “I wanted to say thank you.”
Tuck glanced at Cade and found Cade glancing back; Cade’s forehead was furrowed the way Tuck’s felt to be. “For what?”
“For coming, dumb-ass,” Megan said. “It wouldn’t have been the same without you. I worried that you wouldn’t, but you came through. Family is what you make of it. So, here’s to family.”
Now that Tuck could raise a glass to. He tipped his glass back for a deep draft. Mmm. He could learn to like iced tea, especially if the flavor would carry this memory of a good night, a good moment in time. “To family.”
“Family,” Cade echoed. Did Tuck imagine it, or was that the smallest pressure of Cade leaning into him, against his leg? He chose to imagine it was, and to enjoy it.
“And…” Hannah drew the word out two syllables past its norm. She took both of Tuck’s hands in hers. “There’s one more thing. How many weddings have you been to?”
“I can count them on less than the fingers of one hand,” Tuck admitted. He and Cade had never done anything formal. Maybe they should have. “Why?”
“There’s this thing,” Megan chipped in.
Tuck propped his chin in his hand. “They sure did teach you to talk fancy at math camp, didn’t they?”
She scowled at him. “Shut up. This is new for me.”
“I hope so. If you’ve been to more than one wedding that’s your own, Hannah probably ought to know.”
Cade’s shoulders were definitely shaking. He kept his head turned, but Tuck knew a laugh when he saw one, even if he didn’t hear one.
“I’ll be good, I’ll be good,” Tuck promised before some female or another slapped him. “What’s this ‘thing’ you speak of?”
“The first dance at a wedding is traditionally father and daughter,” Megan said, biting her lip in appeal. “But if you want, if you choose, it can be a brother-sister dance instead. I’d hoped Cade would dance with me.”
“And Tuck with me.” The kid Hannah had been and the woman she was came together in a shared moment of nerves and the fear that he’d say no outright. No one ever got past that, not really. “Please?”
Cade could sit stiller than anyone on earth, but he trumped himself now. Worried, Tuck bumped knees with him to ask silently, you okay?
“I’d be honored,” Cade said at last, husky and low. “I’d—thank you.”
Megan lifted her glass again. “Now that’s what I’m talking about.” She tossed back the last swallow and hurled herself forward into Cade’s arms.
He barely caught her, oofing, but he put his arms around her with far less hesitation this time, and wasn’t that a pretty sight to see?
Family, Tuck thought with deep satisfaction. Family is what you make of it. It’s not what I expected, but what ever is? I’m glad we came.
He copied Megan and got the tea down—and nearly choked on it. “Fuck me,” he blurted. “I don’t know how to dance.”
A man could wish for another glassful to hide behind amid the peals of feminine laughter—and Thomas’s quiet chuckle. At least Cade behaved.
“I did remember,” Hannah said, relaxing into an easy pose of fond observation. “Cade knows how. He can teach you.”
Um. Tuck stalled, trying to work this into his developing plan of attack.
“I’ll do what I can,” Cade said before Tuck had gotten through Thought One. Faint humor crinkled up the corners of his eyes when he glanced back at Tuck. Still a little wary. But less so. Be damned. “Fair warning that I can’t work miracles.”
Tuck wanted to take Cade’s hand, and he did.
And Cade let him.
“Thanks,” he said, hoping Cade got how he meant that to encompass more than one thing.
Cade didn’t smile, but it felt as if he had.
Tuck would have been content to go on sitting there all night, but such plans didn’t account for the energy of kid sisters. Megan dusted off her hands and popped up. “Hannah, do you think they’ll be out tonight?”
“She has this much energy after someone drags her away from that table,” Hannah explained. “Like a jack-in-the-box gone haywire. Come sunup she’ll be right back where she started, muttering about cosines and theorems, and I’ll pretend I have a clue what she’s talking about.”
“You don’t fool me, babe, but you make the effort. That counts.” Megan tugged at Hannah’s arm. “Leave the leftovers here. The ants can have fun, and we’ll hose it all down before we go in for the night.”
“Let her have her way before she has your arm out of the socket,” Tuck advised, not joking. God help anyone who stood in the way of a hell-on-wheels like Megan. He stood, reluctant but intrigued despite himself. At least Cade was right behind him. Still feeling as if he were smiling.
“Where are we going in such a hurry?” Cade asked.
“Somewhere amazing.” Hannah sparkled at both of them. “How long has it been since you’ve seen fireflies?”
* * *
“Fireflies, really?” Tuck scanned the deepening twilight in the vain search for pinpricks of light. Hannah and Megan had left them far behind, arm in arm and head to head, whispering to one another. That was okay. Thomas followed behind by about ten feet, taking his time. No hurry about anything from him.
Tuck would like that, if he hadn’t been able to feel Thomas watching him. Them. Every second. He drew Cade to a stop and gestured impatiently at Thomas with an extra dash of “warning” in there.
Thomas raised an eyebrow at Tuck, but he went on by. He didn’t look back. How the hell Tuck still felt those eyes on him, he didn’t know, but it made the back of his neck itch like a fucker.
“Fireflies,” Cade said. Right. He didn’t have his mind on glowing bugs at all. Didn’t take a genius or even someone who knew him well to figure that much. “Tuck…”
“I’m not going to like whatever it is you’re going to say, am I?”
“I wasn’t.”
If he hadn’t already pulled to a standstill, Tuck would have. “Say again?”
Cade laughed. Quietly, but still. He gazed up at the skies, not really seeming to see them, and shook his head. “I wasn’t going to say anything except to ask you not to talk. Because I don’t know what to say,” Cade answered his unspoken question. “Just stand here and let me think.”
“Stand here with you?”
Cade nodded.
Tuck didn’t understand. Not a bit. But if it made Cade happy, then hell, he’d at least try.
Hannah’s light touch on Tuck’s arm surprised him out of the kiss he’d started game-planning for. He hadn’t even heard her coming. “Look,” she whispered. “Up and around. See?”
Tuck blinked, adjusting his eyes to t
hings not Cade and the cooling dusk. He didn’t see them at first. Then—hundreds of them, a cloud of flashing gold among the old trees, weaving and dancing together in a pattern no human could ever map with the naked eye. Being themselves and rejoicing in it.
He’d seen a few things in his time he might have called sacred. This was one of them.
“Beautiful,” Hannah said, and she spoke for all of them. Of everything.
Chapter Eight
Hannah lingered in the open doorway to the room she’d made up for them. She wore comfortable old sweatpants and a T-shirt, and she’d only just managed to tame her hair into a thick blonde braid. Tuck liked that. No pretenses, just herself and knowing she was good enough.
“Suzie-Q’s as happy as she can be in the kitchen, keeping Megan company,” she reassured Tuck as he idled his way through those sleepy, admiring thoughts. “Megan won’t forget to feed and walk her if they both stay up all night. Don’t worry. What about you two? You’ve got everything you need?”
Tuck hesitated. He could feel Cade’s presence behind him, standing quietly at the foot of the bed. Sounded like he’d started unpacking his duffel to lay out his old favorite pajama bottoms and a T-shirt. Soap and shampoo and shaving cream.
Maybe even some of Tuck’s things, the way he used to, with that small curve of his lips that no one else got to see. The one that said this gave him some kind of pleasure only Tuck sort of understood.
He used to love watching the ritual.
He wanted to see it again now.
“Tuck?” Hannah plucked at his sleeve. “Hi. Are you in there or have you been replaced by an actual zombie?”
Tuck blinked and shook his head once to clear away the wisps of fog. “Nope. Nobody in here but us pigeons.” He took her by both hands and swung them. “A decent night’s sleep and I’ll be acting human again. Scram and let us old jerks get some rest, huh?”
“Uh-huh.” The dimple deepened in sync with the quirk of an eyebrow. “‘Rest.’”
“By any other name,” Tuck temporized. Yeah. With Cade behind him like this, however it shook down, sleeping wasn’t going to happen. He tugged the end of Hannah’s braid. “You and Megan get some rest too, huh? Drag her away from those books if you have to.”