Owen nodded slowly, managing a small, sad smile. “Look at us. Couple of idiots on the verge of making ourselves cry.” He wiped at his eyes, unshed tears making them sting.
“We could always go tell Kayla how cute she is,” Jude suggested.
Owen liked that idea. He was glad he’d gotten a few things off his chest, but it was enough for one day.
With his present starting to work out and his future looking good, dwelling wasn’t useful. He didn’t need to look back when he had so much to look forward to.
“Do you maybe wanna watch a movie or something? If you’re not busy.”
Jude smiled, the sadness that had been clinging to him starting to fall away. “I’d like that,” he said.
It was good to have him around.
Chapter Twelve
Since Kayla had gone back to Lisa’s parents in the afternoon, Jude had watched Owen progressively deflate, his hard-won good mood from earlier in the week all but vanishing.
He knew there was nothing he could do about Kayla not being there anymore, but he needed to do something to improve Owen’s mood, provide him with a little comfort.
In an ideal world, he would have crawled into Owen’s lap and kissed him until everything was okay again. In this world, he knew it wouldn’t be appreciated.
It didn’t stop Jude fantasizing, but fantasizing wasn’t helping Owen.
He needed to find another avenue of approach. Something more neutral, but still comforting.
The idea came to him almost immediately.
“If I make nachos, do you want some?” he offered, hoping that the prospect of junk food would lift Owen’s mood a little.
“I’m never gonna say no to nachos,” Owen said, looking up from his laptop with hope in his eyes.
Nachos had been their go-to snack when they were kids, so it was good to know that some things never changed.
“I’ll be right back.” Jude stood, heading for the kitchen. If it would help Owen feel better about missing Kayla, he’d make nachos six times a day.
He hadn’t expected to, but Jude missed Kayla, too. Not as much as Owen did. He couldn’t imagine what it was like for Owen, not at all. But the house felt a little emptier, the world a little less bright without her around.
Jude had never expected to want a baby, but he’d fallen for Kayla instantly. He knew now that he wanted a child—children, maybe—in his life. He was already looking forward to finger-painting with her.
He half-expected the ping of the microwave to summon Owen from the living room, ready to dig in while the cheese was still molten and too hot to eat. The fact that Owen didn’t even react told Jude that things were worse than he thought. Owen was as food-motivated as the average Labrador, usually.
That just meant that Jude needed to be there for him. Which was fine. After all, what kind of husband would he be if he wasn’t?
Owen had been very clear that he intended to provide the emotional support a real spouse would. That meant Jude was free to do the same.
Even if the prospect of more emotional intimacy with a man he was trying to hide his feelings from was terrifying.
“I’m so glad I married you,” Owen said as Jude walked back into the living room, nachos in hand.
“I wouldn’t be here to make you nachos if you hadn’t,” Jude responded as he sat down, leaving Owen to grab the first chip. They’d been known to fight over it when they were younger, a stupid game that hadn’t really mattered, but Jude knew it would make Owen just that little bit happier to win.
Any little bit of happiness counted right now.
“That’s actually exactly why I married you,” Owen said. “What would I do without someone to make me nachos when I’m moping?”
Jude snorted. Owen knew what was going on, but hopefully that wouldn’t affect how well it worked to improve his mood.
“Make your own nachos, probably. And then you wouldn’t have to share them,” Jude added, taking a chip from the bowl and crunching down on it eagerly. He wasn’t starving or anything, but he couldn’t resist the smell.
“I like sharing them.” Owen closed his laptop and set it aside. “It’s not the same on your own.”
“True,” Jude agreed. There was only so much aloneness he could take, so he understood where Owen was coming from. He was much happier having someone else to live with. That was why he hadn’t left home until his mom had died. He’d even kept paying the rent on their house for a while after, not wanting to move, until it was too much for him to handle by himself.
The apartment he’d moved into should have been his dream place to live, but it had always felt empty. Lonely. Not at all like the home he’d left, that he couldn’t ever get back.
It was good to have a place that really felt like home again with Owen.
“You wanna pick a movie?” Jude asked, handing his phone over. It was nice to finally have an excuse to get a Netflix subscription now that he had someone to watch movies with. It felt like much less of a waste of time that way.
“I must really seem miserable if you’re being this nice to me,” Owen said. “Seriously, I’m okay. It’ll pass. They promised me I could see her again in a few days. It’s not the ideal solution, but… it’s better. At least I’m allowed to have her overnight now.”
“That’s an improvement, but she is your daughter. You’re entitled to full custody.” Jude hesitated. “Can I ask how that’s going?”
Owen hadn’t really talked about it, but he’d been in contact with a lawyer. Up until now, Jude hadn’t wanted to pry. He was starting to think Owen wasn’t telling him because he thought he didn’t want to know.
“Slowly. Like all legal things.” Owen sighed. “And I know it’ll be worth it, but it’s hard to keep going right now.”
Jude made a soft, sympathetic noise. “I can help, you know. Even if it’s just making a phone call.”
“Thanks.” Owen smiled wryly. “I promise I won’t always be like this.”
“You’re fighting to get your baby back,” Jude said. “I’d fight for Kayla, too. I will fight for her, just point me at whatever needs doing, and I’m there.”
Aside from owing Owen that much loyalty, Jude liked the way his life was right now. He liked Kayla. He liked being married, and having someone to curl up on the couch with. Whatever he needed to do to maintain that was worth it.
“She’s lucky to have you as a step-dad,” Owen said.
For a moment, the entire world seemed to fall silent. Jude hadn’t thought of that before. The idea hadn’t even entered his mind. Up to this point, he’d just been living with his best friend—sure, they’d gone and done the wedding thing, but that seemed like a formality.
Jude had never realized that he was a dad now.
“You okay?” Owen asked after a moment, apparently realizing Jude had been silent for too long.
“I just… never thought of myself as her step-dad before,” Jude said.
He was still processing the idea, but he liked the sound of it a lot.
“Well, I mean… only if you want to be. I mean, you are, but no pressure on acting like one.”
“No, no, I, uh. I really like that, actually. I’d like to be part of her life.”
The more he thought about it, the better it sounded. He already had a child in his life, one he was being given permission to call his own.
That was awesome.
“Good.” Owen said, taking another nacho. At this rate, they were going to need a second bowl. “Like I said, she’s lucky to have you.”
Owen finally picked a movie and started it. Jude hadn’t been paying attention to the TV, so he had no idea what he was in for. He trusted Owen not to choose something awful.
After taking one last nacho, Jude sat back, leaving the rest for Owen and settling in to watch whatever he’d picked.
Cautiously, he shuffled a little closer, not quite enough to touch, but close enough to feel Owen’s warmth seeping through his jeans. He wanted to lean against him, curl u
p beside him, but he wasn’t sure Owen would allow it.
Or rather, he was sure Owen would allow it—Owen wouldn’t actually move away—but he wasn’t sure what kind of effect that would have on their relationship, or what the consequences might be.
He knew that physical affection would have made him feel better under the same circumstances, but he wasn’t sure about Owen. And even if it did, would he want it from Jude? He’d been surprisingly calm about the idea of being married to a man, but…
“You done with these?” Owen asked.
“Yeah. I have a tiny stomach,” Jude said. He’d gotten used to eating small meals more often to keep his blood sugar as even as he could.
“You’re not just leaving them for me out of pity?”
“When have I ever done that?” Jude shuffled a tiny bit closer, reacting to the tone of Owen’s voice. He still seemed so needy that Jude couldn’t help but want to be close to him.
He remembered Owen holding his hand when he’d needed it most. Maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing to at least make the offer of a hug.
“Good point,” Owen said, taking another nacho. “I appreciate you taking care of me, though.”
This was Jude’s opening. His heart pounded as he inched closer to Owen, his pulse deafeningly loud in his ears as he held his breath and slowly, carefully rested his head against Owen’s shoulder.
The world didn’t end. That seemed like a good sign.
Owen barely seemed to react at first, as though he hadn’t even felt Jude leaning on him. Then, after a moment that felt like an eternity, he shifted a little.
Jude held his breath, bracing for a gentle rejection.
It never came.
Instead, Owen wrapped his arm around Jude’s shoulders.
It felt like a miracle. Of all the outcomes Jude had expected, this one never even entered his head.
Heart still pounding, he stayed as still as he could, waiting for everything to go wrong. When the shock wore off and Owen still hadn’t moved, Jude finally managed to relax.
This was nice.
“This is nice,” Owen said, as though he’d read Jude’s thoughts.
Jude hummed softly, not wanting to incriminate himself, but wanting Owen to know that he agreed.
Maybe it was worse to have these slightly-too-intimate moments than nothing at all, but right now, Jude didn’t care. He was cuddling on the couch with his husband, the man he loved, and nothing else mattered.
Chapter Thirteen
Owen liked to think that in the years since he’d been a teenager, he’d mellowed out and become a calm, rational man. So the urge to throw his laptop across the room after yet another unnecessarily critical, total bullshit email from his new manager took him by surprise.
He suppressed it long enough to close the laptop and shove it aside, making room to bang his head against the kitchen table.
He groaned as his forehead hit the wood, the sick feeling of anger swirling in his gut. He hated feeling helpless like this, and he didn’t love never feeling as though he wasn’t working, either. When he’d had an office to go to, he’d been able to walk away at the end of the day and forget about the stress of work.
Now, he was never away from work. Not really.
He didn’t understand how Jude did it.
As if summoned, Jude chose that moment to walk into the kitchen. Owen wanted to look up and greet him, pretend everything was fine, but he couldn’t bring himself to.
Jude had been so comforting last night, and while he didn’t want to ask for it, Owen hoped that he’d feel like he could do that again. He hadn’t expected to want to snuggle up next to Jude, but here he was, hoping it’d keep happening.
He didn’t want to examine that too closely.
“I’d ask if you were okay, but I can see that you’re not,” Jude said. “Can I help?”
“No.” Owen straightened up. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”
“I think the table would disagree with you.”
Owen scrubbed his face with his hands, trying to shake the feeling of hopelessness that came with dealing with his manager. He could hear Jude moving, coming closer, but he couldn’t bring himself to turn and look at him.
Right now, work made him feel useless. He didn’t want Jude to see him like that.
Owen jumped as Jude’s hands landed on his shoulders.
“Sorry for startling you,” Jude said. He didn’t even attempt to move his hands.
Owen was okay with that. He could feel the warmth of them seeping through his t-shirt, soothing tight muscles.
“Don’t apologize,” Owen mumbled, rolling his shoulders back and hoping that wouldn’t make Jude move. He was already getting into the contact.
He moaned as, instead of taking his hands away, Jude squeezed his shoulders. The muscles protested, not wanting to be worked at all, but if Jude would just keep going…
“You sound like you need this,” he said, pressing his thumbs deep into Owen’s back. It hurt at first, but it was the kind of pain that hit just before relief, and Owen was more than happy to endure it if it meant Jude was going to keep touching him.
“You don’t have to,” Owen said, cursing himself even as the words left his mouth. Jude knew he didn’t have to, and now Owen was risking making it sound like he didn’t want him to.
“What kind of husband would I be if I let you sit here and brood alone and in pain?” Jude asked.
Owen grunted as Jude shifted his hands, pressing on new tender spots. The first shock of pain was followed by a ripple of pleasure that rolled its way down Owen’s spine, making him shiver. He moaned a low, needy moan that would have been embarrassing in front of anyone else.
“Probably pretty average,” Owen responded.
Jude laughed. “Well, you’ve been good to me. It’s only fair that I’m good to you.”
Owen wasn’t sure that doing what he could to stop someone from literally dying was being good to them, but he wasn’t going to argue. He liked Jude’s attention too much.
Jude kept going, his fingers finding every tender spot across Owen’s back and working each knot out, one by one. Relief washed over Owen with every loosened muscle, a pleasant warmth pooling in the pit of his stomach. He knew he was still making embarrassing sounds, but they weren’t slowing Jude down, and he didn't want them to stop. Instead, he bit down on his lip and focused on Jude’s fingers.
He closed his eyes, wanting to savor the moment as Jude ran the pads of his thumbs up the back of Owen’s neck. A tiny, broken moan escaped him as Jude started working on the tension there, too. He was gentle, and methodical, and nothing like Owen had imagined.
Not that he’d ever really taken the time to imagine, but Jude was kind of scattered at the best of times. Having all of his attention was intense.
“Do you wanna tell me about why you were headbutting the table?” Jude asked after a moment.
Owen’s stomach twisted again, all the anger and uselessness surfacing past his newfound state of calm.
This was like a knot of muscle too, though. It wouldn’t stop hurting until he worked it out.
“My new manager is an asshole. I’m so tired of dealing with his crap. Every time he talks to me he does it like I’m five and I have a history of not following clear instructions.”
Jude made a sympathetic noise. “I know it doesn’t help, but he shouldn’t be doing that. You deserve respect. You’re good at your job.”
Owen sighed. Jude only had his word that he was good at his job, but it was nice that it was enough.
“It’s nearly six o’clock. You’re done for the day. No more work.”
Owen glanced over at the microwave to check the time, surprised that it was later than he’d imagined. “How do you do that? Just stop working when you could get so much more done if you kept going?”
“Sometimes I don’t. But experience has taught me that I’d go crazy pretty quickly if all I ever did was work until I passed out, then got up and started again. You h
ave to draw a line in the sand. Especially when you’re getting a salary instead of being paid for finished work. They don’t own you.”
“This is one of those things that’s easier to say than do, right?” Owen asked.
“Of course.” Jude slid his fingers all the way up to Owen’s scalp, moving them in small, gentle circles.
Owen forgot all about how much he hated his manager. His eyes fell closed, his entire body relaxing at once, a soft, needy sound escaping his throat.
Jude chuckled behind him. “Guess I found your sweet spot.”
Owen wriggled in his chair, warmth building in his gut again. He hadn’t felt this good in a long time.
“Yeah,” he agreed, not wanting Jude to stop. “You have great hands.”
“I’ve heard that before,” Jude said, the warmth in his tone washing over Owen, another layer of soothing on top of the touch of his hands.
“I bet,” Owen murmured. Jude must have been an amazing boyfriend, if this was any indication of what he was like. All his past partners were lucky to have had him.
Owen hadn’t asked about that, unsure if it was something they were supposed to discuss. Since Jude had never brought it up, either, he figured it was better not to ask. That was in the past, and Owen knew he was sacrificing that part of his life for this arrangement.
It was a shame, but there was a tiny part of Owen that liked the idea of having Jude all to himself, anyway. Jude was his best friend, and his husband, now. He didn’t want anyone else staking a claim.
Owen’s stomach growled before either of them could say anything else, the sound embarrassingly loud. He didn’t remember having lunch today, and he was suddenly starving.
Jude laughed behind him, brushing his fingers over the top of Jude’s ears. “Hungry?”
“Apparently,” Owen said, blushing. He didn’t want this to end, but his body had other ideas.
“Then you can help me start dinner,” Jude said, taking his hands away slowly. Owen had to bite down on a whimper, but he’d known it wasn’t going to last forever. Nothing did, and especially nothing that good.
Drawn In Page 7