Love Him Steady

by E M Lindsey

  They were surprising words of kindness from Levi, who had been irritated by Lorenzo’s presence since he showed back up at Indulgence and demanded to be allowed to participate. And Lorenzo got what Levi was saying. Not being able to bake didn’t mean he was useless.

  He stared at his final and mangled cupcake, then sighed. “I give up.”

  “Finally,” Levi muttered, and Lorenzo shot him a dark look. “Why don’t you help Theo out front, and Dmitri and I can finish this.”

  Lorenzo pulled his apron off and marched out without answering him, only to be met with Theo who was holding out a latte with a smile. Lorenzo took it with a suspicious frown, then lifted it to his nose like he might be able to detect something wrong with it.

  “It’s not poisoned, Jesus Christ,” Theo grumbled. He stepped back to the register and leaned against the counter. “It’s an apology latte.”

  “What for?” Lorenzo took a sip, and while he preferred black, unsweetened coffee, it was made well.

  “I was a dick on the way to the airport.” Theo shrugged, then hopped up and swung his legs in the space below the counter. “I think Wilder’s going to be super fucking annoyed with me when he finds out about it.”

  “Are you going to tell him?” Lorenzo asked, his brows lifted.

  Theo laughed. “No, but don’t you plan to?”

  “Not on my agenda.” Lorenzo leaned opposite him and really looked at Wilder’s friend for the first time. They were probably close to the same age, but Wilder’s life gave him more weight on his shoulders, more wrinkles by his eyes, early greys in his hair. He had lived twice as long as most people his own age, and Lorenzo had lived maybe half that, but somehow, they fit. “He’s dealing with a lot right now. I don’t want to add to that.”

  Theo cocked his head to the side, then laughed. “You’re a better man than I am.”

  “Trust me,” Lorenzo muttered into his drink, “I’m not. I’m glad he has you.”

  “I kind of forced myself on him, but I don’t think he regrets it.”

  Lorenzo chuckled. “He doesn’t seem to. He knows he’s lucky. It seems like it might be the norm in Cherry Creek to have that—but it isn’t like that everywhere.”

  Theo cocked his head to the side as he studied Lorenzo. “Rocco wasn’t as sad as you.”

  Nearly choking on his drink as he laughed, Lorenzo set it aside and wiped his mouth. “Rocco is…different than most people,” said, struggling to find the words. “He grew up having to fight for everything, but he always kind of liked it. And he never lost—ever. He got used to getting his way. I mean, he strolled into town and took one look at Simon and was like, yes, I’ll have this one. And Simon couldn’t resist.”

  “Simon was already in love with him before Rocco even got here,” Theo said, then flushed and looked away. “I mean, that’s what everyone’s said.”

  “Simon has been in love with Rocco since the first time he saw one of Sylent’s videos,” came Levi’s voice from the doorway. He was smiling a little more now—just a bare hint of it, really, but it looked good on him. It was a smile he only ever got for his brother, and Lorenzo liked that about him. “Rocco was the one thing Simon let himself have when he denied himself almost everything else. And I think he still struggles to believe that it’s real.”

  Lorenzo shook his head. “I’ve never seen Rocco so gone over anyone. He’s…he’s not a different person, but Simon brought out something in him that he never indulged before. He’s happy, you know?”

  “I do,” Levi said quietly. “Not everyone gets happy.”

  “No. They don’t.” Lorenzo picked at his cuticle, then felt a sudden and powerful need to be with his friend since Wilder wasn’t there. He wasn’t going to abandon the bakery, but the little house Gwen had managed to get for him wasn’t near the Manor, and it wasn’t near Raphael’s, and he suddenly didn’t like that.

  “Some people don’t need happy,” Levi went on, “but my brother did. Not many people realized that about him.”

  Lorenzo bit his lip, but the bakery door swung open, and he looked over to see Ronan and another man with short, very black, wavy hair and glasses stroll in walking hand in hand. His heart stuttered in his chest for a minute, but he realized that there was no way Ronan was cheating on Parker out in the open like this.

  “Hey,” Theo said brightly. “When did you get back?”

  “Last night,” the man answered. “I need to eat my feelings. Where’s Wilder?”

  Theo laughed quietly, then moved to the cupcake counter, which gave the man full view of Lorenzo, and he stared openly. “He had a family thing, but he’ll be back soon. We’re holding down the fort.”

  “New employee?” the guy asked.

  Theo looked over his shoulder and snorted. “God, no. This place would be in shambles in a week.”

  “I’m good with the accounting books,” Lorenzo defended, and Theo smirked before looking away.

  “This is Lorenzo. He’s Wilder’s boyfriend. This is Jonas,” Theo went on before Lorenzo could correct him that they hadn’t established anything yet, “he’s Parker and Ronan’s partner.”

  Lorenzo pushed past Theo to extend his hand to the other man and liked that his grip was firm and friendly. “Wilder and I aren’t a couple. Not officially.”

  Theo rolled his eyes. “Sure. Anyway,” he shoved the box at them, “it’s a welcome back gift. Wilder would kick my ass if I charged you for these.”

  Jonas smiled shyly, holding the box close to his chest, and Lorenzo understood immediately what it was that the two men saw in him. Parker was loud and brash and kind of terrifying—and Ronan was imposing and stoic and maybe even a little mean. He could see how this man fit. Like the cog between them as they spun, and he liked that.

  He loved it there, and he wanted to hold tight to whatever Cherry Creek would allow him to have.

  Digging in his pocket, Lorenzo pulled out his phone and stared at the black screen that refused to light up. He wanted to call Raphael or text Wilder—he wanted some connection, but the damn thing was dead. “Fuck.”

  “Want mine?” Theo offered after Jonas and Ronan walked out.

  Lorenzo dragged a hand through his hair. “No. I’ll plug it in the office. You got this?”

  Theo waved his hand at the empty lobby. “I think I can manage the swarm.”

  He didn’t rise to the sarcasm bait, instead pushing through the kitchen doors and moving around Levi before he had to deal with any more smartass comments. The door to the office was half open, the lighting dim and soft the way Wilder liked it. It smelled like him, and there were photos of people around town eating his cupcakes on the walls, pinned to the corkboard, and there were cards from kids from birthday parties he catered.

  It was sweet, and it was perfect. It was pieces of Wilder leaving marks on the town like gentle scars of pride, and Lorenzo wanted some of his own—desperately. He rubbed at his arms, then sat down and fished around for the phone cord, finding it tucked under the desk. He waited for the battery symbol to light up, then he set it down and reached for the one single framed photo that was on the desk.

  He’d seen it earlier, and he knew instinctively the dark-haired woman next to him was his sister. He was younger in the photo—probably before his ex, before everything had gone to hell. But he didn’t look like a child, and Lorenzo was pretty sure that Wilder had lived too many experiences long before he knew his ex’s name. He wished he was there with him, like a physical ache, just to provide some barrier between Wilder and the people who had created those caverns of doubt that lived ugly and present behind his ribs.

  Lorenzo knew better than to think he could heal them, but he could soften the blow maybe—if Wilder let him. But maybe Wilder needed this, and Lorenzo could only hope that being here when he got back mattered.

  With a sigh, he checked his phone again, but as he set it back down, he heard someone coming down the hall. He braced himself for more of Levi’s acerbic comments, or maybe even Dmitri’s quiet fru
stration, but instead the door swung open, and Wilder filled the doorway.

  Lorenzo blinked, then blinked again, like maybe his desperation had driven him to hallucination, but Wilder stayed the same. He was exhausted, and his hands were shaking a little, and his mouth was drawn in a tight line as he gripped the doorway like he might fall over if he didn’t brace himself.

  Lorenzo rose to his feet and took a step forward, then stuttered to a halt. “I—” he said, but he wasn’t sure Wilder wanted voice right then.

  Wilder pushed forward, then shut the door behind him before reaching out and grabbing Lorenzo around the back of his neck. “Say my name.”

  Lorenzo breathed out. “Wilder.”

  “Again,” he demanded.

  ‘Wilder.’ Lorenzo signed it—the name sign Wilder had showed him all those weeks ago.

  His lover released a small, strained laugh. “Now, fucking kiss me, right now, because I’m about to lose my goddamn mind.”

  Lorenzo had a thousand questions, but every single one of them could wait as he crowded Wilder back against the door, pressed a thigh between his legs, and propped him up so their lips could meet. He tasted stale and sour, like coffee and spit. His tongue was warm, and it was soft as it tangled with his own like he needed those kisses to breathe, and Lorenzo cupped his face and held him still as he devoured him.

  “I missed you,” Wilder murmured. He pressed his palm to the side of Lorenzo’s throat, right over his pulse, like he was confirming it beat just for him—and right then, it did. “You’ve been here the whole time.” This he said with wonder and disbelief, and it made Lorenzo laugh because of course he was. Where the hell else would he have been?

  “I didn’t stay long. It only took me a day to get my shit together, and Rocco’s helping with the rest. He says hi, by the way.”

  Wilder dropped his forehead to the top of Lorenzo’s shoulder, and for a moment, he thought he was laughing, and then the tears began to soak in through his shirt. He let out a panicked breath and held him tight, and suddenly a raw, angry sob ripped from his lover, and Wilder clung to him with clawed fingers and an open mouth.

  Lorenzo wasn’t sure what to do. No one had ever cried like this, no one had ever trusted him enough. He wanted to hold him and rock him and promise to never let anything bad ever touch him again, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t bring himself to allow a single lie between them—even if it wasn’t intentional.

  So, he just kissed the side of his temple and the crown of his head, and he held Wilder back just as fiercely as he was being held until Wilder’s grip relaxed, and his breathing began to even out. When he pulled back, he looked like he could fall asleep on his feet, and Lorenzo brushed the remaining tears from his cheeks with his thumbs.

  ‘Did you cry at all while you were there?’ he asked as Wilder pushed back to give him signing space.

  Wilder shook his head. ‘I wasn’t sad. I’ll miss him, but I wasn’t sad.’

  ‘Why now?’

  Wilder didn’t answer, instead tracing the tips of his fingers around Lorenzo’s mouth, around his jaw, his ear, down his neck. He leaned forward and took a breath, like he was trying to confirm he was real—just as Lorenzo had done moments before. “You’re here.”

  “I am.”

  Wilder kissed him again, softer this time, just a press of lips, and he held it until Lorenzo felt his body start to crave a soft, warm bed. “Come upstairs?”

  There was no other answer but yes, as he locked his fingers with Wilder’s, opened the door, and left everything but them behind.

  “Yes,” Wilder groaned, his face buried in the pillow. He had two more pillows under his hips, his legs spread, his hands gripping the sheets as Lorenzo spread him wide and ate him like it was his last meal. It was tangy and full of musk and a little bit of lube, and he felt like he could do that for hours, but the tremor in Wilder’s body told him he was getting close.

  Lorenzo raked his nails up Wilder’s sides and felt his own spent dick twitch against the sheets as he leaned forward to take him in hand. It was harder with the pillows, but he knew it wasn’t going to take much. His fingers from his other hand sought the space behind his balls, his thumb rubbed in a slow circle as he grabbed Wilder’s hard, leaking dick and gave a single stroke. His tongue pushed into his hole and stayed there.

  Wilder gave a violent shake, and a moan ripped from his throat. He fucked his hips into Lorenzo’s fist once, then twice, and then he spilled in hot ropes against the pillowcases that would need to be washed. Lorenzo didn’t care about that now—or ever, really. He’d happily toss them out and buy more every day to let Wilder cover them with his seed simply because Lorenzo lived to make him come.

  He pulled his face away, swiping his mouth on the back of his hand before kissing his way up Wilder’s spine. The both rolled off to the side, Wilder kicking the pillows off the edge of the bed before he snuggled back into the circle of Lorenzo’s arms and breathed out, heavy and soft.

  “Good?” Lorenzo asked against his ear.

  Wilder laughed. “No. There are no words for what you do to my body.”

  Lorenzo grinned, feeling a sort of absurd pride rushing through him because he was able to give Wilder something no one else in the world could. It was just his—just theirs. He rolled Wilder onto his back, then kissed his neck, down his collarbone, down the length of him. He never paid special attention to the scars, but he never avoided them, either. He hated thinking about where they’d come from, but he knew they would always be a part of Wilder, and he wanted to treasure each and every piece of him that existed—because each of them were proof he survived.

  “Can I ask you something?” Wilder murmured, and it startled Lorenzo, who wasn’t expecting to hear him in their afterglow.

  They hadn’t talked much since Wilder had come home. He was jet-lagged, and they traded lazy hand-jobs, ordered Chinese, and then slept. Lorenzo stayed on the next day, and Wilder gave him full access to the technical side of his business, and Lorenzo knew he wasn’t imagining the relief on his face when he could focus just on the baking.

  It was something Lorenzo was good at—and better than that, it was something he was enjoying. Maybe not forever, maybe not even for long, but for now was enough.

  They got through the day, then he let Dmitri take over that week for the Farmer’s Market prep and the stall, and Wilder was able to close up early. Lorenzo cooked, and they watched TV, then Wilder had turned to him and lowered his voice. “I want you to eat my ass.”

  Lorenzo had nearly come right then, like a man who had never experienced dirty talk before. Then he scrambled to obey, and it was the most glorious hour he’d spent since arriving in Cherry Creek.

  Lorenzo smiled and reached out, tracing a touch down Wilder’s cheek. “You can ask me anything.”

  Wilder bit his lip like he was unsure, then took a fortifying breath. “Do you think you’re ever going to get tired of this?”

  Lorenzo blinked in surprise then propped up on his elbow and laid his hand in the center of Wilder’s chest. “Tired of what?”

  “This,” Wilder said and waved his hand between them. “Fucking like this. Having limits?”

  “I don’t know,” Lorenzo told him, and he saw the pain flicker in Wilder’s eyes, but also the appreciation for his truth. “I don’t think so. I think might get tired of only fucking one way—but there are so many ways for me to love on your body without being inside of it.”

  “You’re so cheesy,” Wilder groaned, but he grabbed at Lorenzo and pulled him in for a kiss. “I don’t want to let him dictate what I can and can’t have,” he said after they broke apart. “And maybe someday it’ll be different, but…”

  “Hey,” Lorenzo interrupted, pressing another kiss to his lips. “It doesn’t need to be. This isn’t about your ex.” Lorenzo ran his fingers around the pad of Wilder’s nipple and watched it peak, watched a flush rise on his neck. “It’s about you and what you need—and what you want. Being with you, however we’re togeth
er—it doesn’t feel limiting. Nothing about you has ever felt limiting.”

  Wilder flushed a little deeper, and he ran his thumb over Lorenzo’s bottom lip. “Thank you.”

  He wanted to ask what for or maybe what he’d done to deserve a man like him, but Wilder deserved better than second guessing, so he kissed that thumb, and then he kissed his palm, and then all the way up his arm to his mouth. “I love you. I love you so much.”

  Wilder closed his eyes and breathed out. “I love you too. I want to take you on another date.”

  “Yes,” Lorenzo said.

  “Tomorrow.”

  Lorenzo grinned. “Yes.”

  Chapter Twenty

  “Okay … it out … system,” Theo wheedled as they pushed past a cluster of bushes and made their way to the bank of the creek.

  Wilder blinked at him behind the dark glasses. They were an ill fit and designer and less comfortable than the ten-dollar ones he bought at the gas station, but it had given Lorenzo a little thrill when Wilder picked them up and asked to borrow them for the afternoon.

  “Say that again.”

  “Get it out of your system. The complaint,” Theo clarified, leaning in close so Wilder would be able to hear him over the water. “The fact that I dragged your skinny, pale ass out here for some sun because you were wallowing behind the counter, and now you feel unproductive.”

  Wilder sighed as they climbed onto a flat boulder and sat side-by-side. “I’m not going to complain today.”

  “Yes, you are. Complicated sex thing or dead dad thing?” Theo asked.

  Wilder chuckled at his lack of tact, and he shrugged. “Both? I don’t know.”

  Theo grabbed a handful of rocks and tossed them in, one by one, before he spoke again. “Has your mom texted you?”

  Wilder let out a bitter laugh and shook his head. He wanted to push the sunglasses off his face, but he’d been suffering a post-flight headache since he woke up from his sex-induced nap. And Lorenzo was a pleasant distraction from the pain, but he knew he had a few days left before it went away entirely.