Embrace the Fire

Home > Other > Embrace the Fire > Page 11
Embrace the Fire Page 11

by Felice Stevens


  Before he could answer, Luke chimed in. “I think it’s a great idea. Esther’s house is big enough for the both of you, and she’s right. It’s a chance for us to reconnect and get to know one another again.” His voice dropped. “Ash and I never stopped thinking about you, wondering if you were safe or even alive.”

  Jordan rubbed Luke’s back and leaned against him, Brandon surmised, giving support and love. In all their years together before they were torn apart, Brandon hadn’t ever remembered Luke’s eyes so bright with happiness.

  “I thought about you too, hoping you were still alive.” Brandon’s voice stuck in his throat. “I thought, maybe…” Tears threatened for a moment, then receded. “I’d given up on ever finding either of you. Now to have you both here?” Everything that had happened this afternoon hit him at that moment. “I’m overwhelmed.”

  At both Ash and Luke’s nods, he made his decision. His lease was month to month, so it wouldn’t be any trouble leaving. “I’d love to come live with you, Esther, but I intend to pay my way. And I can cook too.”

  The tension broke in the room, and they all laughed. Esther looked at him, then over to Ash, then Luke.

  “Well?” She folded her arms.

  “Well, what, Esther?” Ash cocked his head. “What’s the matter?”

  “As long as I live and as old as I am, I will never understand men.” She shook her head and took Ash and Luke by the hand, leading them over to Brandon. “Give each other a hug. After all you’ve gone through to get to this point, you need to do it to make this day perfect.”

  They stood for a moment, looking at one another, then grabbed each other tight, holding on, rocking back and forth. The feel of his brothers’ arms around him and the warmth of their bodies wasn’t a dream any longer. It was real; it was forever. They were home at last. After another moment or two, they broke apart, with Ash returning to Drew’s side and Luke to Jordan’s. Each of his brothers had found his happiness, and for that Brandon was grateful, knowing now how both had suffered.

  The noise level rose around him as Esther planned a big Sunday dinner for them next day, and Jordan argued with Drew about whether the Yankees would ever make the World Series again.

  It all was so homey and perfect. And so wrong without Tash there.

  Chapter Eleven

  Two identical turquoise gazes tracked Tash’s movements. Once he opened the refrigerator, the cats hopped off the sofa and padded into the kitchen, winding themselves in between his legs.

  “I know you’re here, guys.” He bent down to pat them, then, with a sigh, closed the refrigerator door. He had no appetite, but that didn’t mean his pets had to suffer. After giving them some treats, he sat at the gleaming butcher-block table and stared off into nothingness.

  That about summed up his life. Nothingness. While he had a full complement of patients and projects to keep busy professionally, it was the downtime, the absolute solitude of his life sometimes that hit him like a slap in his face. Friends could only offer so much comfort. And even though he’d chosen it, having witnessed Brandon’s miraculous reunion with his brothers and seeing how they enveloped him so naturally back into the fold of their family brought his own lonely life into razor-sharp focus.

  Five years was a long time to mourn and have regrets. Danny’s behavior, his lies, disappearance, and subsequent death had taken so much out of Tash; he’d given up thinking his heart could ever regenerate and heal. He’d forgone finding love and someone who could share his life. Drained and betrayed, he’d chosen to go through the motions of life, since the reality of it was too painful.

  Until Brandon showed up and sent him into a tailspin with his giving nature and purity of heart, breaking through Tash’s wall of loneliness. Desire, long neglected, had rushed through his bloodstream when they’d kissed the other day. And, this afternoon, if Jordan hadn’t interrupted them, he’d have kissed the man again.

  Whatever it was that pulled him toward Brandon, it was an invisible force he was fighting against like a riptide in the ocean. He vowed not to get pulled under but to do what was recommended, swim with the tide until the waters cleared. Maybe Brandon had a bit of a crush, and God knew he himself was lonely. Tash refused to listen to his heart and his head, which were speaking to him in concert, telling him Brandon was different, that he could be a man worth getting to know and possibly love.

  A loud meow rent the silence, and before he knew it, Cleo jumped into his lap. As he stroked her, he thought about the miraculous events of the day.

  Now that Brandon had found his brothers, his life would take a different turn. They’d be able to introduce him to the life he should’ve had. What Tash still didn’t completely understand was why Brandon had run away, lived under an assumed name, and never tried to contact anyone. Although Luke had changed his name, Ash hadn’t. Surely Brandon would’ve looked for his older brother at some point.

  The doorbell rang. Caesar stalked off into the depths of the house, and Cleo followed him, jumping off Tash’s lap to race behind her brother. He wasn’t expecting anyone but figured Valerie was the most likely person. After all, who else would come see him but his sister?

  It was a bit of a shock, therefore, when he opened the door and found Brandon on his doorstep. In a calmer state than he had been earlier, Tash hesitated, then leaned his shoulder on the door frame, not offering Brandon entrance into the house. Tash could see Brandon noticed his actions as he’d already taken a step up as if to walk inside, then stopped, an uncertain expression on his face.

  “Um, hi?” Confusion reigned in Brandon’s eyes.

  Tash’s stomach tightened with unaccustomed nerves. “Hi. What are you doing here?” Why was Brandon not with his brothers and their family?

  “What’s wrong? Are you mad at me or something?” Brandon wrapped his arms around his waist as a chill wind blew in from the river. It smelled like autumn: the dampness of the air mixed with the smell of fallen, decayed leaves and the smokiness of people’s fireplaces. Tash had yet to light his; it was one of the things he loved about the season.

  He knew he’d sounded angry—harsh and more blunt than necessary—but maybe that would keep Brandon at a distance.

  You’ll thank me for this. I’m doing what’s best for the both of us.

  “No. I’m surprised to see you is all.” The chill was becoming too much for him in his thin clothing and bare feet. With a resigned sigh, he moved away from the entrance and opened the door wider. “Come on in.”

  Now it was Brandon who hesitated. “Are you sure?”

  No. Because if I let you in, I’m going to want to kiss you again, and I know I shouldn’t.

  “Yeah, come on. I can’t let the cats see the door open.”

  Brandon stepped inside yet made no movement to enter the house, remaining by the front hall. Tash raised a brow.

  “Let’s go in the kitchen. I was about to make something for dinner.”

  Without waiting for an answer, he turned and walked away but heard the tread of Brandon’s footsteps behind him. The kitchen was safer than the living room, with its wide and comfortable sofa. Nothing sexual would be happening against the cabinets or hard countertops.

  “Can I help?” The hesitancy in Brandon’s voice saddened Tash.

  Help me understand why I can’t stop thinking about you.

  “Uh, sure.” He indicated the big pot on the stove. “Can you fill it with water?”

  “Sure.” Brandon hefted the pot and brought it to the sink. “What were you going to make?”

  “Just some pasta and sauce.” Tash shrugged. “You know I don’t really cook, even though I buy all this delicious-looking stuff from the supermarket, intending to try. At the end of the week, I usually have to throw it away. There’s still all the things you bought from the supermarket in the refrigerator.”

  “Would you let me make you something?” Brandon stayed on the far side of the kitchen.

  Before he could stop himself, Tash said, “Sure. Knock yourself out
.”

  The smile that broke across Brandon’s face would’ve brought Tash great pleasure if he hadn’t already decided to keep away from the man. Still, he warmed to the sight of Brandon busying himself, chopping mushrooms and zucchini and frying them in a pan, then adding a can of crushed tomatoes. Soon the delicious aroma of garlic and onions cooking permeated the air. The comforting sound of the sauce bubbling in the pot mellowed Tash, and he relaxed his guard.

  “That smells fantastic.” Tash’s stomach grumbled, and he laughed. “I don’t think I’ve eaten since breakfast.”

  “You’re still recovering from being so sick; you need to take better care of yourself.” Brandon stirred the sauce and tasted it. “Mmm, that’s tasting pretty good already.” He dipped another spoon into the pot and brought it over to Tash. “Here, try it and tell me if you like it.” He held out the spoon.

  Tash obediently opened his mouth, and Brandon slid the spoon inside. Flavor exploded inside his mouth, and he moaned around the spoon. “Oh, that’s amazing.” He licked his lips. “Where in God’s name did you learn to cook like this?”

  When Brandon failed to answer, Tash glanced up, only to wince at the expression of longing residing in Brandon’s eyes. Instead of asking him again, Tash walked to the opposite side of the kitchen, hoping that a little distance between them would cool down the flame of attraction that had been building between them all day.

  “Why don’t I open a bottle of wine?”

  Brandon blinked. “Uh, yeah, sure.” He returned to the stove.

  Tash picked a bottle of red from the wine rack and opened it, pouring himself a small glass first and drinking it down quickly. He then poured two glasses and brought Brandon’s over to him.

  “Here you go.” Their hands touched briefly, but Brandon merely nodded and placed the glass on the counter. He poured the ziti into the salted, boiling water.

  “I’d like the sauce to cook a little longer, but I’ll cook the pasta anyway.”

  “Why are you here?” Even though it may have been abrupt and rude, for the life of him, Tash couldn’t understand what a good-looking young man like Brandon was doing spending his Saturday night with him.

  “Why did you leave today?” Brandon countered, then took a hasty gulp of wine and wiped his mouth with his hand. “As amazing as finding Luke and Ash was, it kind of dimmed the celebration without you there to share it with me.”

  “I didn’t belong there. I barely know you.” Tash returned to the table to sit. He stared into the crimson depths of his wineglass. “It was a time for family. I’m surprised you’re not with them all now.”

  “Luke and Jordan wanted me to come back home with them,” admitted Brandon. He joined Tash at the table, and the two sat, sipping their wine until their glasses were empty. Tash poured them each another glass.

  “Of course they did. I’m sure Ash and Drew want you with them as well.” He sipped the wine, his fingers tightening around the stem. “That’s why I don’t understand why you’re here. With me.”

  Several moments passed before Brandon answered. “You know, all my life I only wanted to belong, to have people who loved and cared about me. Everyone wants that. I had Ash and Luke, of course, and I was luckier than most in the system.” He traced the bottom of his wineglass with his finger. “We were different, ’cause we never knew our parents, and our foster home was less than perfect.”

  “To say the least,” said Tash grimly.

  “Finding Luke and Ash today was the culmination of everything I’d hoped for—all the years I spent on the street and at the shelter, it’s the only dream I had. All of us together, safe, and happy? I never thought that would happen. But you know what?”

  Tash finished his second glass of wine. The warm glow of the kitchen light played off the golden highlights in Brandon’s hair. The wine had relaxed Tash to a comfortable mellowness.

  “What?” He smiled at Brandon.

  “In the back of my mind, it wasn’t enough. Something was missing.”

  “Missing? What could possibly be missing?” Tash couldn’t imagine what Brandon meant. He knew how ecstatic Luke and Ash were to finally have their family reunited.

  “Not what, who.” Brandon grasped Tash by the hand. “I missed you. You shouldn’t have left with that lame excuse about intruding on family. In some ways, I know you better than I know them.”

  “Don’t be silly.” Tash knew his protest sounded weak, but what could he say when his heart was pounding in his ears and hazy need coursed warm and thick through his body? Even as he struggled against it, a pleasurable ache rolled through him. This couldn’t happen; he had to stop it right now.

  But Brandon persisted, refusing to back down. “I’m not. You keep fighting this attraction between us, and I don’t understand why. That nonsense about our difference in age doesn’t cut it with me.” Still holding his hand, Brandon stood, pulling Tash up flush against his chest. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. Ever since I met you, I haven’t been able to think of anyone else.” His breath blew hot against Tash’s cheek, smelling sweetly of the tomatoes and wine. Tash’s head spun.

  “It’s so quick, and you could do so much better than me.” But even as he spoke, his lips found Brandon’s in a scorching kiss. They clung to each other, hungry and desperate, tongues tangling as their mouths slanted across each other, deepening their kisses.

  “I don’t want anyone else.” Brandon gasped, then moaned as he flexed his hips against Tash’s, their erections pressing against each other through their pants. “I want you. Please, I really need you tonight. So much about today has been unreal, but not you. You’re the only real thing I feel like I have to hold on to right now.”

  How could he say no to that? Staring into the uncertainty of Brandon’s eyes, the years fell away and hope flooded through him, along with a need to hold Brandon in his arms.

  “I want you too,” admitted Tash, “but—”

  “No more buts. I may be confused about my life right now, but the one sure thing in it is you. The way you make me feel and why. You’re caring.” Here Brandon stopped and kissed Tash on the lips. “Concerned.” Another kiss. “And so incredibly handsome.”

  The kissing didn’t stop for a long time then. When it did, Brandon touched Tash’s cheek, his eyes soft with need. “One thing I’ve learned is that nothing in life is ever certain. When I was little, I thought my brothers and I would always be together. That didn’t happen, but I’m all right. Now that I’ve found them, I don’t want them to think they have to be responsible for me.”

  “You’re incredibly mature for your age.”

  “I’m twenty-five, not ten,” Brandon snapped, raking his hand through his hair. “You need to stop focusing so much on our ages. I told you once before I’m not your average twenty-five-year-old.”

  “I don’t think there’s anything average about you at all.” Tash slipped his hand to grasp Brandon around the nape of the neck. He pulled Brandon close and rested his lips against the soft, warm skin of Brandon’s temple. “In fact, what I know is that you’re amazing.” The atmosphere had changed from casual to intense, heavy with the promise of passion. Tash brushed Brandon’s lips with his, then, swept away by the man’s immediate response, pressed his lips to Brandon’s. Tash leisurely explored Brandon’s hot mouth with his tongue, deepening their kiss. The fierce desire he’d suppressed all day rose within Tash; nothing could have stopped him at that moment.

  Was there anything better than kissing someone you wanted so badly your body actually hurt from the suppressed tension? It had been so long, too long without the touch of another man. Tash could sense the impending orgasm in his body as a tingling rush seared through his veins. With regret, he pulled away from Brandon’s lips and stood stock-still with his eyes squeezed shut, willing his body to cool down.

  “If you’re going to tell me to stop and leave—”

  “No.” Tash reached over to brush a hank of that glorious hair off Brandon’s forehead. �
�I need a moment, however. If we keep going, this might be over before it begins.”

  Sharing a grin, Brandon reached out and traced Tash’s jaw with the tips of his fingers. The touch, though tentative, was one Tash longed to sink into.

  “Okay. I’d better turn off the pasta water anyway. We don’t need to burn the house down.”

  Tash concentrated on the long lines of Brandon’s back, watching the flex of muscles play through his thin Henley shirt as he brought the pot to the sink and drained out the water and wondered if Brandon, young, virile, and obviously experienced, would find him lacking. After Danny died, he’d spent a year mourning what might have been and the life he’d lost. There’d been no need for sex or even friendships with other men. Darkness, solitude, and guilt followed him, making him invisible to the world. After coming out of his self-imposed exile, only because Valerie threatened to call their mother, he decided to rejoin the living. Innumerable nights were spent aching to be touched, to rid himself of the sheer loneliness that clung to him with a talon-like grip.

  Well-meaning Valerie had set him up on dates, even forced him into a singles club. He’d had no fight left in him and went simply to keep her happy and off his back. Inevitably he met men and even had a few short-lived flings, but nothing that left any mark on his life. He’d be hard-pressed to remember their names or faces now.

  As Brandon walked toward him, an uncertain smile appearing, then disappearing as quickly as it came, Tash knew with certainty he could never forget this man, and though his heart hurt because he knew Brandon’s youth would eventually separate them, the promise he’d made earlier to stay away disappeared like late spring snow on the city streets.

  Tash was a veteran of the war of love and heartbreak. He’d been a prisoner but never yet a victor, and though there wasn’t a doubt in his mind he would lose yet again, he kicked the doubting devil off his shoulder. Tash held out his hand to Brandon.

  “Come with me.”

  Chapter Twelve

 

‹ Prev