by Willa Okati
“It’s true.” Cade dropped the bottle and wrapped his arms around his chest. “So where does that leave us? Where do we go from here, Tuck?”
“Forward,” Tuck said. “That’s all I know how to do. It’s up to you if you’re coming with me or not.”
“I want to,” Cade said. “I don’t know if I can.”
Tuck accepted that. Something about this day, start to finish, had changed him. “What’s it going to take to help you figure that out?”
Cade laughed humorlessly. “Telling you the truth. Back to square one.”
“Does the road go on from square one?”
“Maybe. I’m not sure which way.”
Tuck thought about that one. “It beats sitting still,” he decided out loud, reaching for the keys dangling from the ignition.
“And you’re all right with that?” Cade asked, sounding dubious.
“I can try,” Tuck said. Honesty went both ways. “There are worse places to start.”
He changed his mind about the keys; his legs had begun to grow restless, and they didn’t stop now. The hummock on the side of the road was gentle in grade and looked as if it might just lead up somewhere a guy could walk and stretch his legs in peace. “Take a walk with me?”
Cade nodded and reached for his door handle. He stopped after he’d opened it and before he’d gotten out. “I think…” he said under his breath. “I think we’re both becoming something. I don’t know what.”
“But not a bad thing?”
“I don’t want it to be bad.”
“Then that’s better. See, that gives me something to work with.”
Silence fell, but it was a peaceful silence. Tuck enjoyed it for one beat, two beats, three, and then elbowed Cade with affection in his nudge. “C’mon. Fresh air will do us both some good. I’m a convert. See? Things can change.”
One of those rare smiles softened the curve of Cade’s lips. “Maybe.”
He exited the car first, and Tuck followed after.
Chapter Sixteen
They ended up on a more or less quiet street in an older neighborhood, its houses dignified in the way of a grandmother who ruled the roost but didn’t need to make a fuss about the fact. Spread far enough apart for stretches to walk between and distant enough from the road to admire at a distance.
Cade walked beside Tuck, hands in his pockets, Tuck content to be as quiet as him for once.
Should’ve known that was the calm before another storm, but foresight had never been one of Tuck’s strengths.
“I need to ask you one thing,” Cade said abruptly, without preamble.
Tuck sighed. “Go ahead.”
“You’re not going to like it.”
The softness of fresh-cut grass not yet raked up blew across Tuck’s feet. He shrugged. “I don’t want to fight about it either. You say I won’t like it, fine. Try me and find out.”
Cade swung in front of Tuck and stopped, bringing him to a halt. Crap. Whatever it was, he meant business. Tuck mirrored him, hands in his pockets too, waiting.
“Lay off of Thomas,” Cade said. “I mean it, and I won’t ask again. Either you agree or you don’t, and I can’t… Look. He tweaked me out at first, sure. Not for the reasons you’re thinking. Now he’s more of a comfort. I need that. Do you understand?”
Ah, hell. Tuck nodded, biting at the inside of his cheek. “Got to ask you one thing myself, then. Why?”
“Why not?” Cade returned, though wryly.
Man, Tuck just didn’t have it in him anymore. “Did you know he wants you?”
“I know.”
Tuck stopped in his tracks. “You what?”
“I always did. And I knew you thought I didn’t.”
Well…hell. “Why are you saying this now? To get me to drop it?”
Cade looked him in the eye. “Yes. It’s not your problem. It’s mine.”
“The fuck you say.” Tuck’s temper prickled. “The guy I hate wants the guy I love, and I’m supposed to just let it ride?”
“My only love sprang from my only hate,” Cade murmured. “Who am I with right now? Thomas or you?”
And what the hell was a guy supposed to say to that?
Cade touched the key around his neck, as if it were already an old habit. “Thomas is… He’s not what you think. There’s more to him than that. His being here helps.”
That stung and confused, and Tuck let it show.
Cade rubbed at his shorn head, pressing knuckles to his scalp. “I don’t—I can’t explain it. Not yet. Give me a chance.”
Hell and hell again. “I don’t have to worry he’s going to take you away?”
“God. Not even close.”
“You sure about that? I’m not joking.” Now Tuck was the one blocking Cade’s path. “Well? Leave the other shit be for now. Okay. It’s just—Thomas, he…”
“Threatens you,” Cade said.
Yeah, and Tuck wasn’t going to tell Cade how direct that’d been. A man’s pride had its limits. “He makes me think he would have been a better man for you than I am.”
Limits, of course, being defined by what came out of a man’s mouth and what he managed to bite his tongue on.
Tuck sighed. “Forget I said that.”
“No.” Cade tilted his head to one side. “You really—Tuck. No. Not ever.” He stopped himself, jaw working. “I couldn’t be with Thomas. If you don’t believe me, then at least pretend.”
“For how long?”
“Until I figure out how to…” Cade pinched the bridge of his nose. “Until, I don’t know.”
Tuck nudged at the edge of the blacktop with the toe of his shoe. “You’re asking a lot.”
Cade toed at Tuck’s shoe in turn. “I’m aware.”
Tuck might have said no. He sure as hell wanted to, but when Cade asked something of him, something he needed—well. When had he ever been able to spit that word out? “I’ll try,” he said. “Can’t promise how good I’ll be at it, and I don’t want to. Know that for sure. But I’ll do my best. For now.”
The relief in Cade’s smile and the easing of his shoulders made that worthwhile. “Thanks.”
“That, I don’t want your thanks for.” Tuck crossed his arms and rubbed them to ward off a chill from a brisk breeze that’d sprung up. He sniffed the air. It was a smell long forgotten but familiar once he’d put a name to it. “Smells like rain.”
Cade did the same. “I’d forgotten. It doesn’t smell like this in the city.”
“If we’d made it to that house I’d wanted for us, we could have—”
“Yeah.” Cade was stronger when he took Tuck’s arm, and not just in muscle. Easing up made him tougher. Somehow. Tuck didn’t get how that worked.
He bumped his shoulder against Cade’s. “Come on. Let’s go home.”
* * *
Cade had changed. Tuck could see it still more when Cade opened the car door and tucked himself inside the way he used to, not as if something Tuck drove was a thing to be wary of. Still on edge. Just—not a razor’s edge.
He watched Tuck the way Tuck had grown accustomed to watching him.
“You weren’t done out there, were you?”
“Almost.” Cade wanted to reach for him. Tuck could tell. But he held himself back.
With a sense that it was only for now, not for forever. It made Tuck catch his breath.
Gave him the strength to listen when Cade said, “Tell me one more time. You keep saying you’re mine. And even if you knew the worst, you’d still love me?”
“There’s worse to come? No, stop. Sarcasm at a bad time.” Tuck rubbed his face. “Would I love you then? Yes. Even if it ripped me open and left me bleeding.”
“I might have to hold you to that promise. Sooner or later.”
“Then do.”
“God, you’re unreal. And you’re going to regret what you said.”
“You don’t know that.” Tuck took Cade’s hand. “As long as you’re mine too.”
“You
’re going to regret it,” Cade repeated. “You know how you’re always saying ‘I can’t help this’ and ‘I can’t help that’?”
Tuck nodded.
“I can’t help this either. Or…” Cade hesitated, and there was a little making himself do it, but truth too in the way he reached out for Tuck and drew him closer. His lips brushed Tuck’s neck. “Or this.” He pressed them next beneath Tuck’s ear to make him gasp and shift in his seat. He’d gone right for the hot spot.
“Cade—”
“Do you want this? I need you to tell me.” Cade was almost pleading.
Tuck never could say no. He couldn’t stop himself from saying now, “Yes.”
“God.” Cade pressed his face against Tuck’s neck. “It’s what I can give you.”
That made sense, but it didn’t make Tuck as happy as he wished it did. He stroked Cade’s nape where once he would have rumpled Cade’s hair. “Yeah, babe. I know.”
“And you still…?”
“What?” Tuck pinched his lover’s ear. “You’re still doubting me?”
Cade snorted. “And you’re still making me laugh.”
“If you don’t like it…” Tuck trailed his fingers down Cade’s back as far as he could reach. “Then make me do something else. I dare you.”
“You’re sure?”
“You start the music, or I will. Actually, you know what? I can already hear the tune.” Tuck reached for the levers that’d lower his seat and Cade’s, taking them almost onto their backs. “Your ears pricking up yet?”
“Maybe.” Cade stretched most of his body over Tuck, sliding Tuck’s shirt up to bare his stomach. “I’m trying.” He pressed his mouth to the soft spot between ribs and stomach. He traced his way down with kiss after kiss, each so gentle it made Tuck lock tight. “Sometimes I think I might have gone deaf. Does that make sense?”
Not really, but Tuck let it pass. “As much as anything else.”
“Which isn’t much at all.” Cade laid his hand on Tuck’s belt. Teasing the rising swell of Tuck’s cock with the barest brush of his fingertips. “This. It’s a different language.” He drew on that new strength; Tuck could see him do it. “Yes. I want it, and I’m asking. Now.”
Tuck let go and let it happen. “Then give me what you’ve got, for now.”
“Thank you. I know. You don’t want to hear that. I needed to say it. And now I’m done.”
Tuck doubted him, at first. Before Cade proved his word to be good, kissing each wing of Tuck’s hipbones, cheek bumping Tuck’s cock and nudging him harder, thicker. He ran his hand up Tuck’s stomach to hold him down as gentle as feathers and inflexible as iron.
He worked Tuck easy, slow, never going faster no matter how Tuck begged—and beg he did, time and again, breathing in deep gulps and chanting broken words. Cade kept his cool even when the thickness of his cock distorted his slacks, and he shifted his hips in half circles, needing the friction but denying himself. Tuck remembered how Cade used to do that—hold back as long as he could to work himself up to a fever pitch. Used to love winding them both up as high as they could climb before letting them both jump off the edge and fly. He’d loved it then; he loved it now.
Tuck flashed back to the apartment, the night Cade had agreed to come with him, and would have laughed if it hadn’t come out as a sob. “Cade, please…” He undid his zipper himself, even if he did risk bad things doing that with his hands shaking so.
Cade mouthed along the side of Tuck’s cock with the faintest scrape of teeth. “I’ve got you,” he said. He laughed. “For once, I’ve got you.”
Tuck groaned as Cade licked the tip of his dick and sucked on the crown alone. “Come down my throat. I want to swallow you. Keep you inside me. I’ll taste you tomorrow. That’s it, that’s right, more, like that,” he said, speeding when Tuck did as he’d been told, on the fine edge of losing control.
Cade gripped himself through his slacks and kneaded hard, too hard, his breath going ragged but still talking; fuck, he chose his moments, but Tuck couldn’t—he wasn’t—
“I’ll fuck you tonight,” Cade promised. “The way you like it. The way I do. Because”—Tuck noticed the pause but was past asking why—“because,” Cade said. He rocked into himself, bringing himself close enough to thrust against Tuck’s side. One leg slid over to pin Tuck’s down. “Because I need you, God, help me, I need you—I—”
He shook his head once, hard, too hard, but Tuck couldn’t stop him. He took Tuck in hand and slid down smooth, taking him deeper than Tuck could remember, down into his throat, and swallowed.
Oh fuck. Oh God. Fuck! Tuck let the shout loose; no, it ripped its way out of him when he came, and when Cade swallowed him all, every drop. He had no voice left when Cade let go, shoved his face against Tuck’s stomach, and stilled, warm wetness spreading thickly between them.
Cade’s face was red with arousal, pale with exhaustion, and fully grown into itself when he made Tuck look at him. “If you worry about me choosing Thomas over you, ever again, that’s what I’ve got to say. Do you believe me?”
Tuck shut his eyes. He could taste the scent of sex that permeated the car, thick as a drug. It should have made him glad. He believed Cade. He did, when Cade said that was his answer. Cade meant it. Now.
But would he always? Tuck would have believed him for good, once upon a time.
Now he wasn’t sure, and he died a little inside when he let himself think so.
“Yes,” Tuck said.
Lied.
He thought Cade even believed him. Figured, didn’t it?
Cade brushed the back of his hand against Tuck’s cheek. “You’re impossible sometimes, you know that? And sometimes…” He sobered. “Sometimes you’re more possible than you used to be.”
Chapter Seventeen
“Think they’re awake?” Shoes in hand, Tuck slipped as silently as he could across the paving stones that led around back of the good professor’s house.
Cade followed behind, less carefully but not entirely careless. “If they are, they’ll have heard the car pull in.”
“Yeah, well. This feels like sneaking back into bed before morning.” He glanced over his shoulder at Cade, just like old times back at St. Pius. It pleased him to see Cade’s small smile returned for the wicked flash of a grin Tuck couldn’t help.
“You’re not wrong.” Cade stroked Tuck’s arm with two fingers from the shoulder to the wrist, ending by braceleting him before pressing their palms together.
Pressure in his chest made Tuck unsteady, just enough for Cade to notice. “Getting into practice again, or doing that just because?”
Cade studied him in that way he had, the way he used to, as if Tuck were the only thing in the world. His small smile lingered, softening the curve of his lips. “Both.”
The kitchen light flicked on. “Awake.” Tuck wanted to hold back and drag his steps. “Is it just me, or is there something off about this?”
“It’s not just you.” Cade tried to let go of Tuck.
Uh-uh. Tuck tightened his hold on Cade’s hand. He needed more of that strength to lean on. Funny how things changed. “Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.” Cade started up the veranda steps, heading toward the closed door. He noticed that at the same time Tuck did and frowned at him, that one eyebrow drawn into a sharper question mark.
Tuck tried to shrug. “It isn’t locked and barred. That’s a good sign, right?”
The darkness of the doorway filled abruptly, silently; if Tuck was the kind of guy to believe in ghosts, he’d have jumped and sworn.
Then again, no one could move as swift and deadly as a girl who’d grown up fighting for herself the way Megan had.
She’d abandoned messy-chopsticks hair for a tangled dark brown mane that fell down her back and over her shoulders, bangs heavy in her eyes—no glasses. The multiplicity of oversize hockey jerseys she’d worn had disappeared for a tight-fitting white something or other that any real dad would have whipped her tail for,
blue jeans that fit as well, and bare feet. Fists clenched at her sides, she looked like one of the Furies in old-world stories.
And she was on the move, fast, Hannah barely noticeable as a corona of gold rushing behind her, trying to catch her, one of those fists uncurling into an open-handed swing.
Tuck caught her wrist before her hand met Cade’s cheek and pushed himself between them. He’d hoped this wouldn’t happen. Didn’t mean he hadn’t been prepared. “Uh-uh, little girl. If you’re gonna slap someone around here, you take a swing at me first. This was my idea.”
Megan always had been as good with the left as she was with the right. Sure, he’d expected the slap. He hadn’t figured on how much it’d hurt, but Tuck took it like a man, lips pressed tight and not moving. “I deserved that. Go again if you want to.”
“I should.” Megan twisted her wrist, trying to get free. Suzie-Q barked sharply at them from the safety of the warm kitchen, not at all pleased. Megan made a face but eased up. Just a little. Maybe a little would be enough. “Goddamnit, you dicks. What were you thinking?”
Tuck could see Thomas behind them, a dark shape in the background. That helped, oh yeah. “Thinking we didn’t want to hurt you before you got married.”
“Babe.” Hannah kneaded Megan’s shoulder. “I told you. They meant well.”
Megan growled. Kittenish, but kittens had teeth and claws too, and better not forget it. Especially lioness cubs. “I should twist the nipples off all of you.”
“You could kick me in the shins,” Tuck said. “Like you used to.”
“Asshole.” Megan didn’t deflate. A tough chick like her wasn’t built for that. She did exhale, and with that long breath went some of the tension that held her strung tight. She splayed her fingers wide. “No one’s getting slapped. Let me go.”
Tuck checked with Hannah, who nodded. He got what she meant.
Okay, then.
But he’d gotten it wrong. The second he let go, Megan dodged past him and landed a slap to Cade’s cheek that made Tuck’s ears ring and his already burning cheek sear hot in sympathy.
Cade took it better than Tuck would have thought, almost as stone-faced as a cliffside. Sort of. In a strange, strange way. He touched the five red marks forming on his paler skin. “Thank you.”