Irons and Works: The Complete Series

by E M Lindsey

  Wyatt laughed as he felt along for more rough spots, going back to sanding. “I might take you up on it. I’ve only been to the ocean two times in my life.”

  James’ eyes widened. “I mean, you ain’t missin’ out on much. Lot’a sand and gulls stealin’ your shit. Not my favorite place.”

  “Most people love it. Maybe for the view though, eh? So it might be lost on me.” He smiled at his quip, but there was a tension there James wasn’t used to.

  Sitting up, he set his wrench aside and decided he could attempt to be a good friend about this. “You uh…you get bad news or something?”

  Wyatt’s jaw went tense, and he was quiet for so long, James thought maybe it was his way of telling him to fuck off. Then he cleared his throat. “My right eye is losing what vision I have left. I was born with no real usable vision, and it isn’t much, but it’s something. There’s nothing they can do so…what can I do but move on?” He gave a half-shrug, then put his hand back on the car, though he didn’t start working again. “My blindness was never a loss until now. I don’t know how to process it.”

  James crossed his legs in front of him, poking at the titanium bars near his angle hinge, and he thought about waking up in the hospital to the news that he’d never walk on his own two legs again. That he’d eventually be on some feet— but not his. That his life would be okay, but it would be different. That he wasn’t useful anymore. At least, not the way he’d been before.

  “I get it,” he said softly.

  Wyatt’s smile brightened a little, and he laughed. “Yes. I thought you would, but…I talked to my brother yesterday, and I told him. He…” He breathed out a small sigh. “He asked me why it bothered me. He doesn’t understand that even if what I can see wasn’t very useful vision, it was mine.”

  James shifted closer to him. “Anything I can do?”

  “This is helpful,” Wyatt told him. “I think if I was back home, it would feel worse.”

  “Even with your family there?” James asked. It was an honest question, because he knew exactly how suffocating family could be in the face of differences or adversity. But Wyatt had never come across as the sort of man who’d gone through what James had.

  “They love me, but they don’t understand,” Wyatt said. He felt for the box, then set the sandpaper square down, clasping his hands between his spread knees. James watched his eyes, the way they always moved, never focused, never still. The soft browns of his irises caught an edge of sunlight and in that moment, they looked molten gold. If it hadn’t been for Rowan, James might have felt brave enough to try something. To offer himself, even for a night. “It was like that when my husband—my ex-husband—destroyed our marriage. They didn’t understand the fact that I was gay, they didn’t understand that my marriage falling apart wasn’t an opportunity to try something else, something they considered normal.”

  James let out a bitter laugh. “Okay, I get that.”

  Wyatt turned his head a little to face him. “Ah, ouais? Your family’s the same?”

  “My daddy’s a Baptist preacher. He’s convinced all us gays are goin’ to hell in a handbasket, and he’s ready to tie the dang bow on himself. When I woke up from my injury, I was so tired. I came out, told him I liked men and that’s just who I was. He told me that maybe my fall was an act of God, tryn’a get me to change my ways. Be the man God wanted me to be.”

  Wyatt’s brows furrowed, his jaw tense with anger. “That’s…I don’t believe that.”

  “Do you believe in God?” James asked.

  Wyatt shrugged one shoulder, tapping out a little rhythm on the top of his knee. “Sometimes I think I do, sometimes maybe not. My family is very strict Catholic, and I was never allowed to miss Sunday Mass, never allowed to question. But I was never made to feel like a sinner for who I loved. At least, not openly. They loved me. Maybe in spite of it, but they loved me.”

  “Do you think that’s better? To be loved in spite of who you are instead of for it?” James asked in a small voice. “Do you think that’s what the whole God thing is about? That God loves us in spite of all our sins?”

  “I think man cannot presume to know the mind of God, and those who claim to, are doomed by their own arrogance,” Wyatt said simply.

  That hit James like a physical blow, and he took several breaths. “I…yeah. I guess that makes sense.”

  “You are really asking me if I think we’re going to hell for living as the men we were created to be, eh?” Wyatt chanced.

  James nodded, then remembered himself. “Maybe, yeah.”

  “Then no. Why would God create something so beautiful just to punish us for accepting this gift?” He swiped his hands on the side of his trousers, then pushed himself to stand. He used the side of the car to keep himself oriented as he turned to James, then offered a hand. “Can I encourage you to be a bad employee and close up shop if I bribe you with buying dinner?”

  James was startled as he took Wyatt’s hand and clambered to his feet. “You hate take-out.”

  Wyatt laughed. “I hate the terrible take-out all of you bring home. But I know a few good places. You can drive, I can direct.”

  James laughed, then clapped him on the shoulder. “Fine, you win. I’ve been distracted all day and some actual good food sounds amazing right now. Let me go get cleaned up.”

  Wyatt grinned at him. “I’ll wait here.” Just as James started away, Wyatt called after him, “For what it’s worth, if we do end up in hell, I think we’ll be in some very good company.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  It was probably the fact that he was inches away from being actually drunk that James found

  himself lying prone on the sofa, his legs in Wyatt’s lap as the man massaged his stumps, Mat sitting a few feet away going at his prosthetic foam covers with his scalpel. He was stuffed to the brim with pizza and Ruby’s beer, and he was feeling floaty and awesome.

  “I think I’m going to fall in love with Rowan,” he murmured.

  Wyatt’s hands stilled until James whined and wriggled his legs. The other man took up the tense end of his leg and began to massage along the sensitive scars. The accident had ripped his limbs from his body, so he didn’t have the luxury of a thin, careful scar along the rounded bit of calf. His were jagged, like someone had cut his limbs off with bits of broken glass. He was still too sensitive to have them tattooed over, but one day he’d want it enough to go for it, pain be damned.

  “Did you just fucking say you were falling in love with Rowan?” Mat asked.

  James covered his face, then peered through parted fingers at Wyatt who had a small grin on his face. “Whatever is said in this room doesn’t leave it.”

  “Who do I talk to?” Wyatt asked with a small chuckle. “Just Mat, and sometimes Sage will ask me how I am, but you two are my only friends.”

  “Okay that bums me out,” James said. He pushed up a little to look at his renter. “You’re awesome.”

  Wyatt laughed and reached out, pushing James back down. “Couché.”

  James scowled at him. “Why does that sound like a dog command?”

  Wyatt laughed harder. “Because it is. Lie back and let me work on your muscles. You must be in pain during the day.”

  James huffed, but it’s not like he could deny it. It had been a few years since his accident, but his orthotist and prosthetist both warned him it would be a few more before he plateaued. He wriggled into the cushions, then let Wyatt get back to work on him. “You should do this.”

  Wyatt frowned. “Moi quel fais?”

  James had a rough idea of what he was asking, and he wriggled his stump against Wyatt’s hand. “This. You’re good at it. That’s not…this isn’t what you did, right? Massages? Like physical therapist or something?”

  Wyatt smiled softly. “Mais non. I was a teacher. Professor of Literature and English at a high school. I’ve told you this.”

  “Probably,” James said, then yawned. “But I’m drunk.”

  “Excuses,” Mat
said, smiling, but James could see the look wasn’t directed at him, and it was giving his drunk brain ideas—which was bad

  “So anyway, I’m falling in love,” he said. Changing the subject would be the only way to stop himself from saying something stupid and sending Mat running, and that was the last thing he needed. “With Rowan. He’s beautiful and he’s perfect and he’s so good in bed.”

  “It’s not like you have a lot to compare it to,” Mat muttered, then froze, looking up with vague horror, cheeks pink. It wasn’t like Mat to blurt shit out like that, which only confirmed what James was thinking when it came to Wyatt. Mat was feeling something. “Shit, I mean…”

  “You know what,” James said, pushing up halfway again. “I don’t care. Wyatt, I was a virgin before Rowan.”

  Wyatt’s hands stilled. “This is… a secret?”

  “Like a big fuckin’ secret,” James said, but he shot Mat a look that he hoped told his friend it was okay.

  “Because of God,” Wyatt said, and it wasn’t a question. “You were so afraid today, and that’s why you’ve never…”

  “My daddy wasn’t a nice guy. He spent a lot’a years tellin’ me what was comin’ for me if I didn’t walk the straight and narrow—in the very literal sense of the word. I was scared of bein’ a homo, scared of sex outside marriage. Scared of my own dang shadow most of my life,” he said with a bitter laugh. He flopped back down again and realized Wyatt’s grip on him had gone very gentle. “Rowan came along and I just… I was so tired. And he’s so pretty, and so good.” James dragged a hand down his face. “It’s been real nice, the two of us.”

  “So, are you two a thing now?” Mat asked. He set James’ leg within reach, then settled himself on the floor on the other side of Wyatt’s legs. James didn’t miss the way Mat pressed against them, but he also resolved himself to say nothing.

  “We’re nothin’ more’n this,” James said, waving his hand around in a half circle. “He’s leaving soon.”

  Mat’s face fell. “Shit.”

  James shook his head. “It’s fine. Really. I could fall for him if I let myself, but I needed this. I needed to get over everything my daddy built up inside me that wouldn’t let me just fuckin’ live.”

  Mat leaned over Wyatt and rubbed his hand down the side of James’ shorn head. “But are you alright?”

  James grinned at him. “Fine as a frog hair split four ways, darlin’.”

  Mat blinked, then laughed. “I hate you.”

  James shrugged and rolled fully onto his back, groaning when Wyatt picked up the massage again. “It ain’t a lie though. I might be gutted when he takes off, but I’ll find someone else. It’s nice to stop feelin’ so afraid.”

  Mat gave him a look like maybe he didn’t quite believe him, but he didn’t call him out on it, and for that, James was profoundly grateful.

  * * *

  Rowan hadn’t seen James in six days. Six long, impossible days which he started with a jerk-off session in the shower to the memory of James coming apart inside him. He’d end those days with another long, drawn-out moment with his hand around his dick at the memory of sliding his mouth around James’ cock. It wasn’t like he was purposefully avoiding the other man, but when James left his place the following morning, he’d finally gotten the call he’d been expecting.

  His mom wasn’t as apologetic as he wanted her to be for keeping everything from him, but she also didn’t fight him when he told her his plans to transfer his clients and head out there to take care of her.

  “At any rate, it’ll be good to see you. And we don’t know how long this is going to last,” she told him.

  It was only now that he knew that he could hear the weakness in her voice, hear the faint puffs of oxygen he hadn’t known she was on. She was slipping away, but even the doctor told him that it could be a year or so more before it took over completely.

  Of course, her MS complicated things. She didn’t recover the way most people did, and with every drop in her oxygen levels without pulling back up, he knew it was a tick in the column of her reaching the end.

  He’d never really contemplated the idea of watching his mother die slowly. He was a pragmatic guy, he didn’t need to come to terms with the fact that he’d lose her someday, but he hadn’t expected it to be like this. It was a lot, and late at night when he couldn’t sleep, the knowledge that he’d have to be there the entire time as she slipped away threatened to choke him.

  Those were his weak moments, the moments he’d picked up the phone and thumbed open his text thread with James. The guy hadn’t tried to contact him, and Rowan didn’t know what to think about that, but he appreciated it in a strange way. If he was a weaker man, or a more selfish man, he might have given in. But James deserved better than to be some distraction while the rest of his life fell apart.

  So, he let the silence fall between them, let the chasm grow until there was no coming back from it. It was painful, but ultimately it would be best.

  Rowan closed up his office permanently the day before Sam’s final hearing. It was going to go well. They had a new judge—one with a record of siding with disabled parents in cases like these, and Rowan could see that Sam’s caseworker knew she was fucked. They were more scrambling to save face than to try and get the judge to award in their favor.

  But it wouldn’t matter. If it went to plan, Sam would be given a clean slate—an opportunity to start over the right way instead of having to jump through hoops that shouldn’t exist in the first place. When it was over, he’d tell Sam he was leaving, that he’d be back for the adoption hearing, and then he’d put his condo on the market and call it a day.

  It hurt, but it was what it was. When his mom finally passed, he’d take care of her estate and go from there. It wasn’t ideal, but he was a fucking adult, and he’d face it with the backbone he was raised to have.

  His stomach rumbled, and he sighed, not really in the mood to cook. There were a handful of shops not far from his condo, so he pulled on his running shoes, grabbed his phone, and had a short, internal debate between Chinese and Greek. Rounding the corner to the little strip of shops and restaurants, he came to a skidding halt when the door to a familiar pick-up swung open and James got out.

  He wasn’t alone. Wyatt and Mat were with him, and he was distracted for the long moments Rowan was able to drink him in, unobserved. It didn’t last, though. Mat noticed him first, freezing mid-step which sent Wyatt bumping into him. James glanced up at the slight commotion, and Rowan’s heart hammered in his chest when their gazes locked.

  “Oh. Hey,” James said, clearing his throat. “Y’all go grab a table, I’ll be right in.”

  Mat leaned in, murmuring something to Wyatt who nodded, and it was obvious they were both aware that there was something between James and Rowan. Rowan hadn’t really expected James to keep it a secret, but it made something inside him feel worse at the way he was about to just leave. Part of him wanted to turn on his heel and escape, to block James’ number, to just get through the next day’s hearing and leave it at that.

  But looking at James’ face, he knew he wouldn’t be able to. It was a struggle enough keeping that bit of distance between them, even as he stepped closer. “I wasn’t expecting to run into you here,” he confessed.

  James laughed quietly. “Uh, yeah. It was a last-minute thing. I would have texted, but we haven’t talked in a while, so I figured you were over it.”

  Rowan groaned, stepping close enough that he could touch James if he just reached out. “I’m leaving,” he blurted, then hated himself more for the way James’ face momentarily crumpled. “My mom. She uh… she’s not doing well, so I’m helping Sam with this last hearing and then I have to go. I don’t know how much time she has, but I’ve decided to shut down my practice until she…until I figure things out.”

  James’ face fell again, but it was with sympathy this time. He took his own step forward, gently pressing his hand to the top of Rowan’s shoulder. “Can I do anything?”
<
br />   Rowan’s throat tightened. Fuck, he was so close to falling for him. The danger was obvious—if he gave himself even another second in James’ presence, he’d tumble right over the edge. “Thank you,” he managed, “but no. It’s just something I have to do.”

  “I get it,” James told him earnestly. His thumb brushed along the exposed side of Rowan’s neck, and Rowan’s breath escaped him in a shaking rush. “I want to see you before you go.”

  Rowan dared himself to meet James’ gaze and tell him no, but the moment their eyes locked, his resolve failed him. “I’d be leaving right after. And I mean right after, like first thing in the morning.”

  James’ smile was so soft, it made Rowan ache. “I know. I understand, I’m not ever going to ask for more than you can give. But I uh…” He stepped even closer and lowered his voice. “I don’t think I can let you walk away without you bein’ inside me first.”

  “Fuck,” Rowan breathed out, his head tipping forward. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to will his cock to stay at least semi-soft. “James.”

  James’ hand moved to the side of his face, cupping his cheek. “It’s okay if you want to say no.”

  “I don’t want to say no,” Rowan said with a half-hysterical laugh. “I want to throw you in the back of my car right now and fuck you until all you remember is my name.”

  “Lordy,” James muttered, a flush coloring his cheeks.

  Rowan swallowed thickly, desperately scrabbling for his self-control. “I have court tomorrow until three, and then I have to finish up some paperwork. I have a flight at eight am the following morning.”

  James licked his lips. “I’m guessin’ your place is all packed up.”

  “I was going to stay in a hotel near the airport,” Rowan confessed, not stepping back even though he knew he should.

  James gave a firm nod. “Cancel the reservation. I know it’s more of a drive, but I want to be greedy for these last few hours I have you. Stay with me.”