by BA Tortuga
“I don’t know that he even remembers.” Hell, Brant wasn’t sure Travis wouldn’t say it again.
“It still hurts.” Lex grabbed a chip, dipped it into the closest thing to Texas salsa Brant had tasted in New Mexico.
“Yeah. A little.” A touch.
“I’m sorry. People say shitty things.” Lex smiled for him, dark brown eyes kind.
“I tried to save him. It was too late.”
“Nothing could have saved him.” The words were firm. Yeah, Lex had seen the autopsy report, he thought.
“No. He was gone before he hit the ground.”
“Exactly. I know that sucks like nothing else, but you have to know you did all you can.”
“I know. I mean, my head knows. My heart will take a few days.”
“Maybe more.” Lex leaned on the table. “I’m not big on touchy-feely, but they made me see a counselor for a bit after the bomb thing. It might help.”
“Yeah, I’ll talk to the girls at work.” They were like counselors in their own rights, and they understood. They were a weird, dysfunctional little family.
“Cool. When do you have to go back in?” Lex asked it casually but watched him closely.
“I’m taking this week off. I need to make sure my head’s on. Those little ones don’t need me distracted.”
“Yeah. I told Trav I’d hang around. Maybe we could go to the zoo one day.”
“Sure. Totally. I think that the Ishams are going to stay one more night and head out, since Travis isn’t having any service.” They were going to have one at home. He’d fly out and go. Travis didn’t understand how important it was to them.
“Sure.” Lex shrugged a tiny bit. “I tried to get him to understand….”
“Hey, that’s not ours.” He held his hands up in surrender. “Trav isn’t going to deal with this any way other than he is, if that makes sense.”
“It does. I know it’s hard for everyone, is all.” Lex sighed. “Tell me about Matt? I hardly spent any time with him.”
“He was a geek. He loved all the geek stuff—Star Wars, Doctor Who, Pokémon, Vampire Hunter D. It was crazy, because we were Mutt and Jeff growing up. I was the football player, the baseball player; he was the computer nerd. Then he went to college, I enlisted, and everyone thought we’d lose touch.” But they hadn’t. They were buddies. Matt had flown to Germany when he was shot, had been there online for all the classes that he never thought he’d get through.
“He sounds like a hoot.” Lex munched another chip. “Travis was drama club and drama llama. I was the one getting my ass kicked standing up to bullies.”
“I can see that. He’s one hell of a teacher. We do connect there, you know, over the kids. We both love them.”
“I bet. I feel like a bad friend, like I got busy and just wasn’t around.” Lex met his gaze, guilt definitely lurking in his eyes.
“We’re all grown-ups, man.” He shrugged. “I just didn’t know where to go after school. I needed somewhere new to be.”
“It grows on you.” That had them laughing, and when their nachos came, it had them both staring, wide-eyed. “I forget how big they are,” Lex said.
“Yeah.” He wasn’t even sure he was hungry, but he wasn’t ready to leave, so he grabbed the tongs.
By the time he’d had one chip with guac and sour cream, Brant felt better. More human. Okay. This was proof there was a God and He loved them.
“Here, try this bite.” Brant held out a chip to Lex.
Lex nipped it out of his fingers, holding his wrist to do it, and his belly went tight. What? Stop that.
Then he reminded himself this was normal. A reaction to stress. Like fucking at a wedding, which they hadn’t done.
Not even close. And there wouldn’t be a funeral to screw up, so yay.
He could just let himself relax, right? Right.
Lex hummed. “Perfect bite, man.”
“Right? It’s all good. Guacamole. Oh God.”
“Yeah. I mean, I like the guac here way better than down south.” Lex smacked his lips. “Did you get some beef?”
“Nope. I need that. It’s good for growing boys.”
“You do.” Lex made him a chip, this one with beans and meat.
“Thank you.” He ate it and groaned, his eyes actually closing.
“I know!” Lex laughed. “I expected more casseroles.”
“Right? All their friends are hipsters. I didn’t know there were hipsters in Albuquerque.”
“I didn’t either. Hell, I thought there weren’t any between Denver and what? San Antonio?”
They got to grinning at each other.
“Austin is just expanding to fill up all the available space.”
“Is it? I haven’t been there in ages.” Lex waved a hand. “I went for a law enforcement seminar once. It was too cool.”
“Well, I’m from way farther north, but I’ve been there a number of times. It’s a great town. Pricey, though.” He wasn’t quite hip enough for Austin.
“Yeah. I always say that about Santa Fe. Sweet place to visit. Too expensive to stay.”
“Right? I have enough to deal with my Los Ranchos love.”
“Yeah. I always wanted to live in Nob Hill when I was a kid. Or Corrales, and have a horse.” Lex snorted. “I tried to ride a horse once as an adult. Bad. Bad.”
“Not your thing, huh?” Oh God, he might pay to see that.
“No. It kept trying to eat my feet.”
Okay, that was unexpected. “That seems… rude.”
“I thought so. They kept telling me to kick it—her?—in the teeth, and I thought that was mean too.” Lex rolled his eyes. “I was a mess.”
“That is adorable. Seriously.” He could imagine it, Lex cussing up a storm, trying not to get bit and not kick.
“I was very frustrated. My buddy was all George Strait, you know? Like his butt was attached to the horse.”
“I hear that it’s part nature, part nurture. I can ride, or I used to. I don’t know if I could mount now.”
“It takes a muscle or two,” Lex agreed. “I had to hoist hard.”
“I have a little damage to work around.” He patted his hip.
“I bet. That can mess a guy up.”
“Yeah.” He’d survived it and saved three soldiers in the process, so he’d take it.
Lex got that serious face again for a moment, but he just munched away on nachos, letting it pass.
There were a lot of ills that nachos could help with.
The little cloud cleared up, Lex back to smiling in no time. See? Nachos.
He wondered what good enchiladas would do.
Maybe he’d ply the guy with them at some point. He made a fair one. Really.
“What are you thinking about?”
“Cooking.” That was sort of the truth. “You cook?”
“Uh, I can make pancakes.” Lex chuckled. “I was thinking the other morning I can make anything you flip.”
He nodded, because okay, that was a weird question to ask a stranger.
“Can you cook?” Lex returned.
“Yeah. Yeah, I like to.”
“Like what?” They were back to even keel, both of them eating.
“Ribs, steak, enchiladas…. I like to make shit up.”
“Yeah? I’m not good enough to do that.” Lex leaned close, lowering his voice. “I make super good cookies, though.”
“Yeah? I’m not a great baker.” He loved cookies.
“I make dozens at Christmas. It’s like therapy, like when I’m all stressed. We should get the stuff at the store. I’ll make salted caramel.”
“Salted caramel…. Okay. You like enchiladas?”
“I love them.” Lex spread his hands. “Born and raised old family New Mexican, hello!”
“Beef? Chicken? Red? Green?” Wait. Was he allowed to do this? Make a date? Enjoy himself?
“Oh, Christmas, man. But I love green chile chicken.”
“Green chile chicken it is. To
morrow? The Ishams are heading home in the morning….”
“Oh, yeah. I’ll bring dessert.” Lex smiled hugely. “I mean, am I coming to your place?”
“Yeah. You can even make cookies. I have a great kitchen. A nice backyard.”
“Sounds amazing. I’m in.” The way Lex stared at him made his belly warm. Happy.
“Yeah? Good. I’m… yeah. Good.” He made up another good bite and offered it over.
Lex ate it, then fed him one, and he thought… yeah, this might be flirting. Crazy and fun.
At least he had a reason to smile. There was something about Lex that intrigued the hell out of him. He wanted to spend more time with the guy, and he would bet Travis had plenty of people about. To be honest, they both needed a break, a breath. Something like this. Even the trip to the grocery store today was for Travis and his folks.
Dinner would be theirs.
A part of him worried, but he squashed it quickly. It was supper. A night away from the drama.
He liked Lex, loved the look of the guy. What could it hurt?
“You’re thinking hard, man. I can tell you live alone.”
Brant glanced up, more than a little shocked. “Huh?”
“You disappeared in there.” Lex grinned. “I mean, I live by myself, but I’m a cop. We’re never really alone, and we talk everything out. Everything.”
“Do you? Do you have a partner in Las Cruces?” He had other nurses, and they could coffee klatch together like mad, but mostly they bitched and talked about where to order lunch, and then they talked about The Walking Dead and This Is Us.
“I do. We’ve only been partners about six months. We get some turnover.” Lex gave him a thoughtful kind of look. “We’re all learning all over again.”
“I’m sorry. That’s got to be hard.” He’d been working with the same doctors for five years.
“It can be. Sometimes it’s good. When the unit asshole leaves.”
“Oh. I know about that. The bad seed. The one that brings everyone down.” They hadn’t had one in the unit for a while.
“Right? We had this guy….” Lex launched into the worst motorcycle cop in history story, which had him in stitches.
He hadn’t laughed so hard in months, howling with it. Lord, he’d needed that. Bad.
Even the servers walking by were smiling by the end.
He wiped his eyes. “Lord, you are a hoot.”
Lex bowed a little from the waist. “Thank you. I’m here all week.”
Brant rolled his eyes and applauded. “Excellent news.”
Lex chuckled. “Would we suck if we got dessert?”
“Totally.” He beamed. “Let’s do it.”
“Levante?” Lex patted his belly. “It’s like tiramisu and it feeds two.”
“Uhn.” That was all he had. Patron, coffee, biscochitos? He was in.
Lex ordered them dessert and coffee, and the moment felt even more like a date.
His phone buzzed, Martha Isham’s number popping up: Can u pls pick up a brisket? Travis is having a service after all. Body was released.
You got it, he sent back.
“Everything okay?” Lex asked, and Brant shrugged.
“Travis is having a service.”
Lex blinked. Then blinked harder. “Huh. Okay.”
“Yeah. I’m supposed to buy brisket.” Assuming he could find one. It wasn’t Labor Day, and it sure as shit wasn’t Texas.
“Well, then, we get brisket.” Lex kinda rolled his eyes. “Families.”
“I know, right? Do you have a lot?”
Lex nodded slowly. “I have an enormous pool of aunts, uncles, and cousins, two sisters.”
“Yeah? That’s cool. I have my mom, dad, and my brother, Bridey.”
“Yeah? Are you close?”
“Close enough. Bridey is a sheriff’s deputy back home. The folks run a big-assed cattle operation.”
“You have a brother who’s a cop?” Lex started laughing again.
“I do, yeah. Why’s that funny?”
“Just makes me smile. Like, I was all telling you cop stories.”
“His are way more stray horses and drunk cowboys fighting in the parking lot.” He grinned. He needed to go see Bridey, spend a week or two back home.
“Ah. Yeah. Well, it takes all kinds.”
“It does. He’s a neat guy. A real Texan.”
“You’re not?” Lex waggled his brows.
“I don’t ride horses much, and I have cats.”
“No shit?” He got a surprised little look. “Aren’t you supposed to have dogs?”
“I work a lot. Cats take care of themselves.” Why did he feel so defensive?
“Are they fancy cats?”
“Two Persians and a Maine coon.”
“Oh, man. Good thing I’m not allergic. I want those enchiladas.” Their dessert came, and Lex stared at it. “It’s like the Mount Everest of tiramisu.”
“I… wow.” He just ogled at the sheer beauty of it. “Where should we start?”
“The edges.” Lex picked up a fork.
“To dessert and best men, huh?”
“Absolutely.” Lex clinked forks with him and started to steadily devour cake.
To dessert and best men.
Chapter Seven
SUPPER AT Brant’s was delayed.
Shit, by the time him and Brant got back with the brisket and twenty pounds of potatoes, there was a whole other shopping list and a huge do planned for the next day.
Travis was frantic, going up and down the stairs, on the phone with all the human beings in New Mexico, all two million of them, plus about a thousand Texans.
Lex was a little disappointed. Not that they were having a ceremony, but that they might not get another chance to do dinner. Every single time he had the opportunity to see Brant, someone was there—Travis or the Ishams or some reporter that had crept in.
So Lex put his head down. He ran errands. He cleaned bathrooms. He made beds.
Martha and John were cooking, while Travis’s folks talked to the funeral home. Well, Travis’s dad. His mom… floated. God, it hurt to see her that way.
It was maddening. The temptation to just get in his truck and drive was huge. He couldn’t do that. Travis needed him.
A little part of him didn’t wonder if Brantley didn’t need him too. He sure hoped so. Lex could use some companionship of Brant’s type. For real. Hell, he hadn’t had an orgasm from someone else’s hand in so long he’d forgotten how. He really had. Maybe Brant could remind him. He liked the big nurse, liked his laugh, liked his strength, liked the way Brant dealt with Travis and the Ishams. He was kind, but he was no pushover. Lex admired the hell out of that, and he liked the way Brant ate dessert. That was important, that a man could enjoy the simple things in life. He could spend a few hours watching Brant lick cream off a spoon.
Maybe a day.
He spent a few moments trying to decide what kinds of cookies to make for Brant as opposed to for the funeral. Those eyes had lit up when he’d mentioned salted caramel cookies, so that was on the list. Maybe peanut butter. Or gingersnaps. For the funeral he’d make some biscochitos and chocolate chip, then a couple of pies. Mr. Isham liked pecan, and Travis adored lemon meringue.
“Lex? Lex, what are you wearing to the service?” Travis was red-eyed and frantic.
“Hey.” He grabbed Travis’s hand, tugging him right into the office, since they’d met at the top of the stairs. “You okay?”
“Just… just stay with me? I don’t want to be nice to all of those people, shake hands. What good is this going to do?”
“None at all except make the Ishams feel better.” He hugged his friend hard. “I know Martha is so grateful.” They wanted to remember their boy, to see that he had friends.
“She is, but I… I just want everyone to leave but you. I don’t even want Brantley there. I keep thinking if he’d done something….”
“I’ve seen the tape, Trav. There was nothing Brant could do.�
��
“I know.” Tears spilled over again, Travis so exhausted and close to the edge.
“Then don’t say it to Brant. I know the urge to take it out on him is strong because he was there, but no one is feeling worse about that part than him.”
“I’m just so mad. I want to go back to that night and tell him not to go to that movie, not to go out, not to see Brant.”
“I know.” He did. Anger was healthy. It was way better than staying in the denial stage too long, but focusing so much of it on Brant was just going to make things worse.
Lex wasn’t blowing bullshit up Travis’s skirt either. He’d seen the video, and Brantley had done everything for Matt. Brantley had been exceptional. He wouldn’t press Travis on that now. “You know what? You should get a couple of hankies, put on some gray slacks and a black shirt, and go drape yourself over the recliner downstairs. Every time someone approaches, just start sobbing loudly. That will get them to leave you alone.”
“Just stay with me. You can sit with me during the service. Hold my hand.”
“I totally can.” He would hope to God he wasn’t pissing off a family member, but he would brazen it out for Trav.
That was why he was here, right? To support Travis.
God, he wanted his supper at Brant’s.
Hopefully, he could still convince the man to do that when all the glad-handing was over. Things would slow down, and Travis would go out of high-alert mode. It had to be tough, having all this overwhelming stuff going on. Hell, Travis was high-alert enough, wasn’t he? Just in general all the time.
Even Matt had said he was high-strung. At the wedding. In a speech.
Lex grinned, glad Travis couldn’t see his face.
“Once this is done, everyone will go home and leave us here alone, right?”
“Yes. They will.” The Ishams had been about to leave. They had a business to run, after all. Brantley had to go to work at some point, and frankly, so did Lex.
Not that he didn’t have a breakfast meeting with his former captain and the guys in a couple of days. He thought it was a fair bet he’d be offered a job.
He might just take it too. He loved the spring down in Las Cruces, but Dusty and Nate were really his only good friends down there, and it was a three-and-a-half-hour drive if he wanted to spend a long weekend with them. Shit, they would meet him in Ruidoso.