by E M Lindsey
James released him as they sat, and Rowan hooked his right ankle over his left knee. “Any word?” he asked, knowing Rob would understand what he meant.
“I was able to get adoption records sent over. It wasn’t a closed adoption, which was how she was able to obtain her original hospital records,” Rob said. Rowan heard James make a curious noise, but for the moment, he ignored it. “It looks like your mother had a biological child when she was seventeen. She gave birth at St. James’ in Seattle, she spent four days in-patient, and the baby was released to the adoptive parents.”
Rowan dragged a hand down his face, heaving out a sigh. “So why now?”
“She was just diagnosed with an autoimmune disorder, and she was trying to find out if it came from her maternal or paternal side,” Rob said matter-of-factly.
Rowan swallowed thickly. “MS?”
“To my knowledge, no,” Rob said. “But I spoke with her last night and she is asking if she can meet you.”
Rowan startled when he felt James’ hand take his, but he was grateful for the reminder that he wasn’t alone in this. “Okay. Uh…okay. I suppose I should…I mean, does she have any idea that I don’t know my family medical history?”
Rob folded his hands on the desk and looked at him carefully. “I’ve only given her a basic outline of your mother’s life. From what I understand, your mother has family records in the house, kept in the basement that you’re welcome to go through and offer to her.”
Rowan nodded, his stomach twisting uncomfortably. His mom had a daughter. This daughter, on some level, had just as much claim—if not more—to anything his mother had kept. Biologically, Marie had been his cousin, but he wasn’t sure that was enough to deny the woman anything. “What’s her name again?”
“Anna Grant. She was raised in Vancouver, then moved to Tacoma after she graduated from the University. She has one daughter, she’s been divorced six years, and she works as an RN.”
Rowan glanced down at where James’ fingers held his own. “Can you arrange the meeting for me? I have to go down to the funeral home after this and give the final approval for the services, but after that, I’m free.”
“If that’s what you want,” Rob said.
Rowan breathed out a puff of air. “I don’t think I’m ready to talk to her just yet.”
“Of course.” Rob made a little note on his post-it stack, then looked back up. “It’s okay to say no. Especially right now.”
Rowan shook his head. “Might as well get it over with. As soon as I’m done going through mom’s stuff and getting her house on the market, I’m not staying.” Rob’s eyebrows shot up, and Rowan deliberately kept his gaze from James’ as he said, “I’m heading back to Denver. To stay. So, I’d rather tie up any loose ends I have left.”
He didn’t miss the soft noise James made, or the way his hand went so tight over Rowan’s, his bones crushed together, but he didn’t try to pull away. Maybe it was the wrong way to tell him, but Rowan’s bravery right now only went so far. He wasn’t even sure James wanted him to go back. A stupid insecurity, he knew, but after everything, he couldn’t help it.
“I’ll be in touch as soon as I settle on a date and venue,” Rob said after a beat. “We’ll meet again after the funeral to discuss the will?”
Rowan blinked at him. “Is there someone else named?”
Rob smiled at him. “No. See you then?”
With a small frown, he nodded and rose, taking James with him. Neither man said anything as they headed out the front doors, but when they got to the car, James laid a hand on his shoulder to stop him.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked quietly.
Rowan scoffed. “About the random daughter I just learned about?”
James’ face fell a little. “I know it’s none of my business…”
Rowan shook his head, pulling James a little closer to him. “It’s not that, I promise. I just didn’t know how the fuck to process it. Rob told me the day before my mom died, and neither of us were sure she was legit. I don’t…” He trailed off with a huff, dragging both hands down his face. He didn’t put up a fight when James drew him into a hug, instead burying his face against the other man’s chest. “It’s just so fucking much. And I have to see a bunch of family who never bothered to step up when she needed them. They didn’t give a shit when my mom was so drunk she was choking on her own vomit in front of her three year old, and they didn’t give a shit when I was ripped away from the only parent who ever cared. Now they’re going to show up and pretend like they always loved her. I don’t know if I can stomach it.”
James dragged his fingers through Rowan’s hair, and Rowan didn’t care that it was being mussed to hell. “It’s almost over. And then…” He went quiet and Rowan pulled back to look at him. “You’re coming home?”
Rowan closed his eyes and nodded, breathing out slowly. “If that’s okay with you.”
James touched his cheek, and the moment Rowan’s eyes opened again, James leaned forward and kissed him. It was deep, messy, possessive, and Rowan fucking loved him for it. “I will never ever not be okay with having you near me. Got it?”
Rowan laughed wetly, swiping his eyes which had begun to leak again. “Got it.”
James pushed him toward the car. “Come on. We have a lot of sad shit to finish, and when we’re done, we’re getting takeout and I’m going to fuck you until the only thing you can remember is my name.”
Rowan shivered in the best way, and he felt one of the few genuine smiles on his face he’d been able to muster in a damn long time. “Sounds good, babe.” He got into the car with the sound of James’ laughter, and never felt so put together in his life.
* * *
James had followed through on his promise. They had separate showers, James utilizing the shower chair and even his mom’s old manual wheelchair so he wasn’t forced to be in his legs all night, and as much as Rowan fantasized about slipping behind the curtain and sucking James’ cock into his throat, he felt strange about doing that there. It was one thing to take each other in his room, but quite another in the rest of the house.
James didn’t seem bothered by it. He sorted out the food as Rowan cleaned up, then the pair of them crawled up on the bed and ate their curry on the duvet. Rowan brushed away the naan crumbs and bits of rice while James dug into his bag and came up with a new bottle of lube, the dildo he’d showed Rowan before everything fell apart, and an unopened box of condoms.
Rowan’s mouth went dry at the sight, and his hands fell into his lap, not quite sure where to start. “You really want to?”
James’ eyes were nearly all pupil as he stared at Rowan, his lips parted gently with a sigh. “I want to do so many things with you, darlin’, but I did say I was gonna make you forget everything but my name. If you still want it.”
Rowan got to all fours, crawling atop the covers and backing James all the way against the headboard. When he was pinned and straddled, Rowan lowered his mouth in a filthy kiss, wet and sloppy and so fucking perfect. Rowan gripped the back of his neck, pulling away with a series of pecks, then pushed their foreheads together and breathed in the sweet, clean scent of the other man.
“I want you inside me tonight,” Rowan said. “I was…fuck, I was feeling so alone, and I just need it. I need to feel you days later.
James let out a soft moan, tugging at Rowan’s thighs until he dropped down, grinding their erections together. “I think I can do that. Do you want it like this? Do you want to fuck yourself on me while I watch?”
Rowan shuddered with need, drawing his bottom lip between his teeth as he nodded. “Yes.”
James swallowed thickly, then nodded. “Okay.” With that, he leaned all the way back and put his arms behind his head.
A sharp jolt of realization hit Rowan that James meant it literally. He meant to literally sit there while Rowan opened himself up, then bounced on James’ cock until they both came. “Fuck,” he gasped. He couldn’t get out of his clothes fast e
nough, and when he was naked, he moved to help James, but the other man pushed him away and nodded toward the dildo still in the box.
“Use it while I get naked,” James ordered.
Rowan felt a sharp thrill at being told what to do—not something he was normally into, but James’ requests only ever had Rowan’s pleasure in mind, and that’s what made them so easy to follow. He laid down on his side as he reached for the dildo, throwing the packaging over the side of the bed, then fumbled with the lube until he got the seal off and the cap open.
It was a frustratingly slow process, but by the time he was slicking it up and aiming it at his hole, James had resumed his former position on the bed. He had one hand behind him, the other gripping himself, and he was slowly stroking as he watched Rowan’s hands.
“Do you want to see?” Rowan asked.
James’ eyebrows flew up, and his cheeks pinked. “Yes,” he breathed out. He ripped his hand away like his cock was on fire, and Rowan knew he was too close to touch himself.
The thought that James was near the edge just from watching him was heady, powerful, and he couldn’t get enough of it. He rolled onto his side, using one hand to pull himself open on display, then he carefully eased the head of the toy inside. He heard James swear quietly, heard the sheets rustle as he shifted on the bed. Rowan closed his eyes and imagined it was James doing this to him, and his cock gave a firm throb, the tip leaking a steady stream now. It didn’t take long for him to get the thing fully inside, but instead of fucking himself with it properly, he let it sit, feeling the stretch, the faint burn. He didn’t want to take pleasure in this —not more than knowing James was enjoying the sight of it. No, he wanted everything he felt to be from the other man pushing inside of him.
“You have no idea how gorgeous you are,” James murmured.
Rowan groaned, clenching around the dildo before drawing it out almost all the way. “I want you,” he said.
James cleared his throat, and Rowan looked over to see him watching with hooded eyes, a thin sheen of sweat on his brow, lips parted. “Yes. If you’re ready, then yes.”
Rowan tossed the toy off to the side before grabbing the bottle again. He liberally coated James’ cock before he remembered the condom, and he looked over balefully at the box, knowing he should, but he couldn’t help his hesitation.
“You’re the only person I’ve ever fucked,” James told him softly. “Have you been tested?”
Rowan nodded, not looking away from the condoms, his hand stroking James still. “A month before I met you. Negative, and I’ve always been careful.” He let out a small laugh. “Hell, it had been so long before I met you it felt almost pointless, but I always keep my appointments.”
When he finally looked over, James’ gaze was fixed on Rowan’s hand. “I trust you.”
Rowan wanted to argue, to tell James he shouldn’t trust anyone, except he wasn’t lying. He loved James far too much to ever put him at risk. “I haven’t cleaned myself out properly. It might…get messy.”
James laughed, grabbing Rowan’s wrist and tugging him over. “Isn’t that what we are? Messy?”
Rowan couldn’t help but grin back, even as James urged him to crawl over and position himself for the waiting cock. “We’re a fucking mess, and I love it. And I love you.”
James’ eyes squeezed shut like the words were too much, even as he grabbed onto Rowan’s hips and urged him to take the first bit of him. The initial slide burned, ached, and felt so fucking good with nothing but flesh inside him. It felt hotter than usual, and Rowan knew the exact angle he wanted as he sank all the way down.
“Fuck, fuck,” he cursed. He bounced a little, feeling the tip of James’ cock brush his prostate. Liquid-hot pleasure shot through him, and his cock gave a valiant twitch, already waiting to spill. James didn’t follow through with his plan to sit back and let Rowan use him, but it was perfect anyway. His hands kept a firm hold of Rowan’s waist, guiding his rhythm, his hips bucking up off the bed to meet him with every thrust. Rowan wanted to watch ecstasy spread over James’ face as he came, but he couldn’t manage to keep his eyes open.
It was too much. It was just all too much. A wrecked sob fell from his mouth as he grabbed his dick, stroking once before his balls tightened and he spilled over. He collapsed forward even as James finished rutting against him in a frantic rhythm, and Rowan gasped the other man’s name over and over.
“James…James, god…I…”
“I’ve got you,” James said, sounding just as breathless, but a little more coherent. He ran his hands up and down Rowan’s spine, bringing him back to earth, and the world stopped spinning, and things settled back into place.
Rowan breathed out for several moments, then carefully eased himself away. He rushed for a wet cloth, cleaning them both up as best he could, then let James drag him back onto the bed. In spite of winter rushing in full-force, they were both over-heated and let the cool air brush across their sweat-soaked skin.
“That was…damn,” James said.
Rowan laughed. “I have to agree, babe.” He rolled over, shifting down a little as James reached his leg up and hooked his knee and stump over Rowan’s hip. It gave Rowan full access to the gears and shifts carved in ink, and he traced some of it with his finger. “What do you call this style again?”
“Biomechanical,” James murmured, his voice soft and sleepy. “I went for a consult about this surgery where they implant part of the prosthetic directly to your bone, but I didn’t qualify. The accident didn’t leave enough bone below the knee, and what’s left is really weak. They’d shatter, unless I want to have them amputate up higher. Above the knee.”
Rowan traced his finger along James’ jaw. “Would you hurt less, if you did it?”
“Some people say yes. But I don’t know if I’m quite willing to lose more of me just yet. Maybe someday.” He blinked up at Rowan and leaned in for a kiss. “You ever thought about gettin’ ink?”
Rowan frowned, shrugging. “It never occurred to me. At least, not until I met you guys.”
James laughed. “Believe it or not, we hear that a lot.”
“I believe it,” Rowan said with a huge grin. He traced some of the stark black design just behind James’ left ear. “I’d like to see what you’d design for me. I’ve never really thought about something I’d want to carry on my body before, but I don’t hate the idea.”
James frowned thoughtfully. “Somethin’ for your momma, maybe? Less she was one of those religious types who’d think you were hell-bound for it?”
Rowan couldn’t help his laugh. “That definitely wasn’t her. She got a tattoo right after her MS diagnosis. A butterfly on her ankle, which I know is one of those dumb tattoos that everyone gets, but it meant something to her.”
James shook his head, pulling Rowan’s hand down to kiss his palm. “Darlin’, I don’t judge.” When Rowan gave him a flat look, he rolled his eyes. “Alright, I might judge when some stoner comes in wantin’ a piece of pizza with googly eyes, but I never tell them no, long as they’re in their right mind. And butterflies can have strong symbolism to a lot of people —they mean rebirth, and I’m never gonna tell someone not to put that on their body. Is that what you’re thinkin’?”
Rowan shook his head. “No. Not that. Uh…when I was little, she used to call me her Willow Tree. Which is stupid. Rowan is a tree, but it’s not a willow. It was just a thing between us. I think…I think I might want something like that.”
James smiled at him and drew him in for a sweet, tender kiss that made his toes curl and heart beat fast against his ribs. “Lemme think on it. I might ask the guys for help, but if you want it, we’ll get it perfect for you.”
“I trust you,” Rowan whispered softly.
James took their hands and laid them over the steady beating of his heart. “Oh darlin’. You’re everything.”
Rowan closed his eyes, basking in the fact that he knew exactly what James meant.
Chapter Twenty-One
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nbsp; James wobbled a little at the top of the stairs, gripping the banister as he stared down at the dimly lit basement, not sure anything he was holding was going to keep him from plunging down to a broken neck. He could hear Rowan down there, shifting boxes around and stacking papers, and he turned slightly sideways as he willed the joints in his prosthetic ankles to bend the right way and not seize up.
Steep stairs like this were the bane of his existence, and luckily, he managed to avoid them most of the time. But he didn’t want to leave Rowan going through his mother’s old things by himself—especially when most of them hadn’t been touched since he was a young kid.
He made it to the bottom with a relieved sigh, then turned the corner to find Rowan sitting on the ground, surrounded by half open boxes and piles of papers he was sorting. The light was uncomfortably low, but James squinted through it as he eased himself down beside his lover.
“How bad is it?” James asked, squinting around at the walls. “Are we going to breathe in spores and die?”
Rowan rolled his eyes, elbowing him lightly. “No. My mom had someone come in and treat it once a year. I don’t know when the last time she went through all this shit was, but I don’t think it was much longer than right after she took guardianship of me.”
James pulled a box closer labeled RECORDS in neat capital letters. “She never did adopt you, right?”
Rowan closed his eyes a second, shaking his head. “No.
She uh…she didn’t see me again until after I turned eighteen.”
James leaned in and pressed a kiss to Rowan’s temple, feeling a little triumph in his belly when Rowan managed a smile. “So, what are we looking for?”
“Anything to do with the adoption. Since it was technically open, she might have some records of Anna, maybe letters or pictures from her adoptive parents. Any evidence as to who her birth father was. She’s going to have questions and I’d like to have at least some answers for her.”