Cop Out

by KC Burn

  Davy reluctantly placed the bottle on the table, but looked poised to grab it away from Kurt.

  “Relax. Smells great.” Kurt took a bite. “So fucking good, Davy,” he mumbled around a mouthful. Davy was a great cook. Even with the ready access to his mom’s cooking at Finn’s, he was going to get spoiled. And he’d have to hit the gym more often.

  Relaxing, Davy dug into his own food, and when the game started, there wasn’t anything to do but eat and yell at the screen.

  Kurt sat at his desk waiting for Simon to return from a meeting. He flipped through the most recent set of baby pics Davy had sent him. He’d almost think Davy was Oliver’s dad, instead of doting uncle, but then, he’d been terrified of losing another person he loved, and it wasn’t a crime to love your family. Kurt did, even if they frustrated him sometimes.

  The birth had had an unintended side effect. Davy now felt comfortable enough to send him texts. Often. Kurt was reminded a little of passing notes in class, but that didn’t stop him from eagerly checking each time his phone bleeped. And he saved them all, going back and re-reading them, like an obsessed idiot. This phase had to end soon. Problem was, he didn’t know how to stop it without cutting off from Davy altogether, and he couldn’t bring himself to take that step.

  “Hey. Got something good on there?”

  The phone clattered to the desk after a guilty fumble.

  “No, just a friend’s baby pics.” Kurt willed himself not to flush, but he didn’t think he succeeded too well.

  Simon rolled his eyes. “Don’t show Jen those. She’s been making noises about wanting a baby. I’d like to be a little more settled first.”

  Kurt slid his phone back into his pocket “Speaking of Jen… you two free Saturday night?”

  “Maybe. Why? Wanna go on a double date?”

  If Kurt hadn’t been blushing before, he sure as hell was now. Mostly because he was reminded of the night he took Davy out for his birthday. With Simon and Jen there, it could have been a double date.

  Simon leaned in and lowered his voice. “Sorry, man, didn’t think.”

  Kurt shook his head. “No, uh, my parents are throwing a party at their restaurant for my brother’s birthday. They’d love to meet you and Jen.”

  “Oh, cool. Yeah, I’ll see what we can do. You ready to head out? I got those addresses we need to check out.”

  Oh thank God. No more talk of dating. Between Tiffany and Davy, his head was so messed up.

  “Let’s go.” Kurt pulled on his coat and followed Simon out to the parking lot.

  Chapter Eleven

  Kurt saw Simon as soon as he stepped through the door, dusted with snow. He was taller than everyone else. Presumably Jen was beside him, but she was so tiny, the crowd swallowed her up. Saturday was always a busy night at Finn’s.

  He waved an arm above the crowd, and Simon nodded before heading toward him. It was a full house tonight, but most of the other guests had been to his parents’ parties often enough to know the party was in the back room.

  “Hey, how’s it going? So this is the family business.” Simon clapped Kurt on the shoulder.

  “This is a great place,” Jen said as she leaned in to hug him.

  “Yeah, it used to be an old brewery that my parents bought shortly after they emigrated here. They fixed it up, named it after my grandfather, and never had thoughts about doing anything else. But it sucked growing up because we were always enlisted as waitstaff or busboys. When business stabilized, they were able to hire regular staff, and now we only occasionally help out, mostly to give mom or dad a break.”

  Kurt turned and led them to the back.

  “Oh, Kurt, love, who’s this now?” As always, his mom was the first to spot a new face.

  “This is my partner, Simon, and his wife, Jen. Simon, Jen, this is my mom, Deirdre.”

  Simon pulled his mom into a big hug. She looked surprised, but giggled anyway. Jen rolled her eyes, but she wasn’t at all upset.

  “Nice to meet you, Mrs. O’Donnell.” Simon set his mother back on her feet.

  “Oh, now, didn’t you hear my baby? It’s Deirdre.”

  “Deirdre. Got it.” Simon grinned.

  All of Kurt’s family noticed the arrival of Simon—how could they not? Mike was the first of his siblings to make his way over to them. His mom was making small talk with Jen when Mike arrived.

  “This is your new partner, squirt?”

  “Squirt?” Simon asked, a brow raised. Jen stifled a laugh with her fist.

  “Simon, Jen, this is my big brother Mike, the birthday boy. He’s an old man today. Forty-three.”

  Mike narrowed his eyes, but graciously accepted Simon and Jen’s birthday wishes.

  “So, squirt?” Simon asked again.

  Kurt groaned, and Mike laughed. “Yeah, well, we all thought the last of the litter was going to be the runt, but he ended up proving us wrong. Ended up the biggest of the lot.”

  “It’s just because mom loves me best.” Kurt stuck his tongue out, and Mike made a move to grab him around the neck in a prelude to a noogie, but he stopped and settled for a quick squeeze.

  Kurt hoped it was out of a sense of decorum rather than a lingering after-effect from his near-death experience six months ago.

  “How you feeling, squirt? Haven’t seen you around much lately.”

  Nope, not decorum. “I’m fine, Mikey. Honest. Look, all healed up.” He pushed his sleeve up to reveal the scar on his arm. Only a hint of pink revealed how recent it was.

  “Okay, okay.”

  Kurt stared at it, remembering Davy’s fingers tracing its path, whisper light, and he smiled before he pulled his sleeve down again.

  “I’m sure this fine young man will look out for my baby.” His mom squeezed Simon’s forearm. Kurt could hardly believe how different the dynamic was already between his family and his new partner, compared to their previous—and few—interactions with Ben.

  “I will indeed, ma’am.”

  “Good boy. Now, Mikey, I know it’s your birthday and all, but would you please take Simon and Jen to get a drink? Introduce them to the brood?”

  “Oooh. You’re in trouble now,” Mike sang as he led Simon and Jen—grinning like fools—away.

  Instead of berating him, as Mike clearly expected, his mom gave him another hug, as she’d done when he first arrived.

  “So, when do I meet her?”

  “Meet who?”

  “Your girl.”

  “Shi—I mean, shoot. Mom, have you been talking to Erin? There’s no girl.”

  “No, I haven’t talked to Erin about this, but I will now. You’re lying to me, boyo. Only time I saw that look on one of my sons, Mike had just started dating Heather. I knew then he’d ask her to marry him.”

  “Marry! Jeez, mom, I’m not even dating anyone!” As long as no one counted dinners and evenings with a man that were more fun than any date he’d ever been on.

  His mom looked up into his eyes and rested her hand on his scarred forearm. “Oh, baby. I don’t care if you’re dating. You’ve met her. Something about this scar made you think of her. And I could see it clear as day. My baby’s in love.”

  It was a him. And Kurt wasn’t fucking in love. His mother had to be crazy. Or drunk.

  “I’m not, Mom, I swear.” Kurt hoped his mom didn’t know how to interpret the high-pitched, panicky squeak that prefaced his words. She had to believe him.

  “Okay, baby, okay, don’t you worry. She’ll come around. You’re a fine catch for any girl.”

  Shit. She had heard it.

  “Just remember you can always talk to me. I may be your old mum, but I know a lot about girls.”

  Kurt let out a breath of bitter laughter. She wouldn’t be so quick to see him settled if she knew what was going on in his head. His mom was a good Catholic. She’d hate him, not offer up advice, if she knew. His whole family would hate him.

  “Hey, squirt.” Ian approached him and thrust a beer in his hand—the only reason
he didn’t get a glare and get flipped off. “Met your partner. Seems a good guy.” Dylan stood behind him and nodded.

  “C’mon. We’ve challenged him to a game of pool, and we need a fourth.”

  Kurt let himself be dragged off, thankful to be away from his mom’s scary insight. God. If she even had a hint he was infatuated—not in love, for God’s sake, he wasn’t gay—but sexually fantasizing about another guy, she’d flip out. Probably disown him. As would the rest of his family.

  “Hey, man, what’s going on? I’ve never seen you looking so freaked,” Ian said.

  “Mom was talking to me about getting married, settling down.”

  “Oh, shit, that sucks. Why would you want to do that? There are so many women as yet untried.”

  Dylan snorted. “But not for lack of trying, eh? Really, though, just one woman forever? Maybe in a few years I’ll be ready for that.”

  For all that Kurt was the baby, there were only three years between him and Dylan, with Ian falling almost exactly in the middle. They all had plenty of time before thinking about settling down.

  “You don’t have a girlfriend you haven’t told us about, do you?” Ian asked.

  “No.” Kurt needed to stop talking about this, now.

  Ian and Dylan shared a funny look. Oh, God. Surely they didn’t suspect? How could they?

  “So… pool….”

  Simon was almost as good as the three of them, which was saying something because they’d been practicing at this table since they were tall enough to see what they were doing. But others were waiting, and after quickly clearing the table, they stepped away, turning the table over to other friends.

  Jen wandered over, a beer in hand for Simon. “Thanks, hon.” He bent down to give her a sweet kiss.

  “I like your family,” she said to Kurt.

  “Thanks. I like ’em too, most of the time.”

  Jen smiled, and Ian lightly punched him in the shoulder.

  “We’ll be back in a sec,” Dylan said, as he and Ian both inspected their empty beer bottles.

  “Bring one back for me,” Kurt called. Ian flipped him off.

  “I’m sorry, I should have gotten you one,” Jen said.

  “No, of course not. I’ll go grab one in a minute. He’s just being an ass.”

  Caitlyn bustled up to the table. “There you are,” she said to Jen. “C’mon, bring Simon.” She turned a frown on Kurt.

  “You should have told me you knew Jen.”

  “When and why would I have done that?” Kurt didn’t think it unreasonable to be annoyed at her accusing tone. He spent the least amount of time with the twins—they were always doing stuff together with their own little nuclear families.

  “We just started working together. We didn’t realize until tonight that you and Simon were partners.”

  “Oh well, of course I should have known you worked together.” Sarcasm dripped from his words, but his sister was, as ever, oblivious. He probably would have known, if Caitlyn didn’t change jobs as often as some people got oil changes. How could he be expected to keep track?

  “Go on,” Kurt said when Simon looked reluctant to leave. “I’m going to the bar.”

  He picked up another beer and leaned against a nearby wall. All around him were couples. His sisters had invited a few single women friends, but Kurt didn’t think dating them was any better an idea than dating someone at work.

  “Hello. You must be Kurt.” A short, generously endowed dark-haired woman stood before him… far too close for a stranger. She was quite pretty, though, and with his height, he could see straight down her cleavage. A hint of pink lace peeked out from the edge of her deep neckline.

  “I am.”

  “I’m Heidi. One of Heather’s friends.”

  “Nice to meet you, Heidi.”

  “Heather tells me you’re a cop.” Heidi leaned in even closer and rested her tiny fingers gently on his bicep. He rather thought he should put his sister-in-law’s friends in the same undateable category.

  “You must be very brave. And you’re obviously very strong.” Heidi squeezed his arm.

  Kurt drank a large mouthful of beer to avoid rolling his eyes.

  Still… he tried to imagine leaning down to kiss her. Stripping her. Feeling the heft of her breasts in his palms. And he couldn’t do it. Not even a flicker of interest in his groin—even less than when he went home with Tiffany.

  Oh fuck.

  He tried again. This time, putting them in bed together, naked. But she wasn’t tall enough. Didn’t have dimples.

  Oh fuck. Sweat sprang out all over, and he tried to back away, but the wall prevented his escape.

  “There you are,” Simon broke into his reverie. Heidi had plastered herself to him, her fingers burrowed underneath his sweater as her breasts pressed against his abs.

  “Sorry, Miss, I need to borrow Kurt for a bit.” Simon smiled at her, disengaged her hand, and steered Kurt back to the pool table.

  “Thanks for the save.” Kurt could breathe again. He’d been heading for a repeat of the Tiffany debacle, and he didn’t think his ego could take another blow like that.

  “Don’t thank me, thank Jen.” Simon pointed, and Jen waved at them, a sympathetic smile on her face. “Said she knew a shark when she saw one.”

  A shark, eh? More like she figured out how freaked he was. Great. Just fucking great. He couldn’t be mad, though. He’d rather have Jen save him than put up with Heidi’s unoriginal and heavy-handed come-on.

  “You want to play another game? Jen and me against you?”

  “Nah, you two play. I’ll watch.”

  Kurt sat on a stool with his back to the wall. He had a great view of the table, but the game didn’t hold his attention.

  His brother Mike, with a happy smile on his face, kissed his wife, Heather. His dad grabbed a heavy platter from his mom with a grin. Erin’s husband tenderly brushed a lock of her hair behind her ear. Simon cuddled up close behind Jen, ostensibly to show her how to make a tricky shot, but her breathy giggle told another story.

  Surrounded by friends and family who loved him, and he’d never felt so alone. He shouldn’t have let his fear keep him from inviting Davy. In fact, his reasons for doing so were so strongly reminiscent of Ben’s actions, shame scalded him. He knew Davy would have gotten along with his family. They’d love him, and Davy would have kept him company all night. Simon was a good friend, but he had Jen. Ian and Dylan were great, but they’d left the party already, probably trying to drum up “dates” for after. They didn’t like to fish in a pond so close to home either.

  But he couldn’t have Davy here, even if he wished it. He couldn’t risk anyone guessing, speculating.

  Jen knocked a ball into the pocket and squealed, bringing Kurt’s attention back to the table. She’d won, which given Simon’s skill, probably didn’t happen that often.

  “Hey, man. We’re going to head out,” Simon said, arm around Jen’s shoulders. “Thanks for inviting us.”

  “Anytime. My family thinks you’re great. Glad you were able to come.”

  Jen hugged him, and as they left, Kurt checked his watch. After midnight. He could leave too. Although he wanted a shitload more, he’d only had a couple of beers—he could still drive.

  He said good-bye to his family, except for Ian and Dylan, who were still missing in action, and left the party room to make his way through the throng in the public part of the restaurant.

  Someone grabbed his arm, and he tensed before realizing it was just Ian.

  “Where are you going? That hot new waitress just invited us to a party later. Her friends are strippers,” Ian hissed.

  “And they’re twenty.”

  Ian gave him a so what look.

  God. A party filled with aggressive women like Heidi. Women with expectations he wouldn’t be able to—didn’t want to—fulfill. And within full view of his promiscuous brothers. He’d rather have his eyes gouged out with a swizzle stick. His shitty, empty, lonely apartment wi
th its almost-full bottle of vodka was calling him.

  “Not tonight, Ian. I’m tired. It’s been a long week.”

  “Best cure for a long week is a quick fuck with an easy lay.” Ian grinned at him.

  Kurt shook his head. There was almost a hint of desperation in Ian’s actions. Maybe he was having an early midlife crisis. “Don’t let Mom hear you say that. And I’m still not going.”