Bet On Us

by deMora, MariaLisa

  “What?” The car’s speed didn’t vary, and the trajectory was still straight ahead.

  “Turn around. I want to go back and look at that house.” Trent peered left and right, finally seeing a street sign just ahead. “Turn in there, and we’ll go back.”

  “What about the grocery store?” The steady click said Jacob had listened, and a moment later, they had pulled into someone’s driveway, leaving it just as quickly when Jacob reversed, deftly aiming the vehicle back the direction they’d come from. “Where was it?”

  “Just there.” He pointed at the road and peered up towards where he’d seen the For Sale sign. “See it?”

  “Yeah.” Jacob drove to the house slowly, his attention out the window much like Trent’s was. “It’s big, Trentie. Probably four bedrooms.”

  “Look at it, though. I didn’t think we’d see anything like that here.”

  Two soaring stories in a neighborhood of flat ranch homes. The first floor had a wraparound porch, and the second had three distinct balconies that Trent could see. The two-car garage was off to the side, but attached, with what might be an apartment over the vehicle bays. White with slate blue trim. From the outside, there wasn’t a single thing Trent would change.

  “Hello, yes.” Trent turned to see Jacob had his phone to his ear, squinting at the real estate agency’s sign. “Is this Emily Delmonico?” A pause, then Jacob smiled, a sure sign he liked the response from whoever he was on the phone with. “Yes, I’m calling about a property you’re representing on Echo Valley Road in Germantown.” Another pause, and a thumbs-up gesture when Trent motioned impatiently. “Emily, can I put you on speaker? My husband is here in the car with me, and… Oh, that’d be lovely, five minutes? We’re actually parked in front of the house now. Yes, sounds good. See you in a few.” Jacob disconnected and stared at Trent, lips quirked in a tiny grin. “She’s just two streets over, finishing an inspection. She can be here in five minutes. Wanna do a tour?”

  “Let me think on it a minute. Ohmygodyes.” Trent squeezed his eyes closed tightly. “It’s going to have termites or mold, or I’ll hate the floor plan.”

  “There’s going to be leaks in the bathroom and the wiring will need to be replaced.” Jacob helpfully picked up where Trent had left off. They went back and forth, listing all the things each of them could think of that would make them hate the house. He started the car again and eased into the driveway. “I don’t know. I can’t think of anything else.”

  “Let’s get out and walk around the outside. Maybe we can rule it out based on property lines or something.” Trent grabbed the door handle, then glanced back at Jacob. “But Jakey, what if?”

  “We’ll know in a few minutes if it’s a flat no, a maybe, or a hell yes. Live in the ambiguity of not knowing for a change.” Jacob was already out of the car by the time Trent had climbed out. “That’s a big yard. A lot of grass to mow. Jericho would get a workout.”

  “I don’t do ambiguity, Jakey.”

  “I know.” Jacob walked towards the house, angling around the side. “There’s another balcony over here.”

  “But what if we like it?” Trent’s feet were stuck in place, cemented by uncertainty as tightly as if he were shackled.

  “If we like it and we can afford it, we buy it.” Jacob’s voice floated from around the corner of the house as he disappeared to the back. “Oh, flower gardens. Those are pretty.”

  “Jakey.” A car turned off the main street headed their way, signage plastered along the side matching what was in front of the house. “Jakey, she’s here.”

  An hour and a half later, Trent and Jacob were back where they’d started, sitting in the car and looking up at the house. Trent absently lifted a hand as the agent tooted her horn, driving away. Now that he knew what was on the other side of the walls, he filled in the gaps with the memory of the dining room and kitchen, all of which was open to the family room spanning the back of the house. Big windows in every room, sunlight and fresh air available at a flick of the finger. Two-and-a-half-car garage, with plenty of room for a workbench and bike racks. And best of all, there was a downstairs room tucked along the side of the house that had already been divided for offices. The arrangement would give him and Jacob independent workspaces but have them only steps apart.

  “That small bedroom upstairs would be perfect.” Jacob was musing, his voice soft and low.

  “Perfect for what? It’s too small for Jericho.” Trent laid his head back against the seat. “I thought the one at the other end of the hall from the master would be good for him.”

  “Yeah, that’d be the one for him. A little bit of privacy, but easy access to the kitchen. All the things a growing boy might need.”

  Jacob was still staring at the house as if he couldn’t believe they’d found something like this when they weren’t even looking. Not yet. The plan had been to come to Memphis and see Jaime, celebrate Jericho’s birthday with family and friends, then go back home until the Christmas break. Jericho was set to start school in California in three weeks.

  “We can’t do this. There’s not enough time.” His subconscious threw him an image of the gorgeous subway tile backsplash over a farm sink just like one he’d been drooling over in a catalog. “It’s a nice house, though. What’d you say about that little bedroom?”

  “It’d be perfect.” The sound of Jacob’s sigh was heavy, filled with something…anticipation, maybe?

  Trent turned to look at him. “Perfect for what, Jakey?”

  Jacob started the car, throwing his arm over the seat back as he reversed out of the driveway. He paused, stared up at the house again, then faced forwards as he pulled away. When it came, his answer was soft, almost inaudible. The words still shook Trent to his core, making his nerves jangle.

  “A nursery.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Jericho

  “I got this, Uncle Trent.” Jericho paused on his way up the stairs, shifting the box in his arms until he could see around it. “This is the last one for my bedroom. I’m just going to unpack and get set up, and then I’ll be back down to help in the kitchen.” Trent’s face was a mass of worry and exhaustion, an expression he’d worn for nearly the entire time he and Jake had been pursuing the real estate deal. Man needs to chill out. “Leave some boxes for me.”

  Trent flipped a hand at him that could have meant he was the most brilliant strategist ever at unpacking or indicated he was annoying as a gnat.

  Jericho grinned.

  Definitely a gnat.

  Continuing on his way, he glanced in the other rooms on the second floor, able to do that because all the doors were wide open to facilitate the transport of boxes, just as he was doing right now. He’d only seen the house through pictures and one video walkthrough the agent had sent them after the paperwork was done and the painting Trent asked for had been completed. They hadn’t bought the house, not yet. There just hadn’t been time. The owners had worked out a lease deal for two months that allowed them to make the move from California in time for school to begin. Jake had already done most of whatever was needed for the actual purchase, and they expected that to go through before Halloween.

  Then they’d well and truly be home. Something Jericho had never really experienced. He and his mom had moved every couple of years at a minimum. The farm had been the place they’d settled into longest, living there for nearly three years. But he’d known the houses were rentals, accustomed to brusque landlords making surprise inspections especially when the rent was late. The realization hadn’t really hit him in California, maybe because his uncles were already settled into their house there, but the idea of living in a house that was owned, one that couldn’t be taken away on a whim—he still couldn’t get over the fact his bedroom had been painted just to suit him.

  Rounding the doorframe, he stood for a moment, staring. His bedroom suite from California took up a chunk of the space but still left enough room for a desk and chair, something Jake had made a priority yesterday. The
y’d gone to a local furniture store, and when Jericho had paused at one set, a desk with a bookshelf, Jake had called a salesperson over immediately. Jericho looked around again. The walls were a soft sand color and the drapes were a rich sage. The effect felt entirely comfortable, soothing and safe, and his.

  Shaking off the amazement, he set to work and within a short time was headed back downstairs. Trent was in the kitchen, a sea of opened boxes around him, none of them more than a quarter unpacked. He looked up and cried, “There you are,” as if Jericho had been gone half his life.

  It was moments like that when Jericho realized how desperately lucky he’d been that he had Trent and Jake. Forget the house or the things—it was the people in his life that made a difference, and as much as he’d loved his mother, he was still angry at her for withholding these treasures for such a long time. As he always did, he shoved those thoughts aside and waded in, looking for ways to help lift whatever burdens he could off his uncles. Not in any attempt to pay them back; he’d come to the realization a long time ago that how he’d been raised to think didn’t factor with family. Now he just wanted to help so he could see more of the happy Trent, the joking Jake, and be surrounded by unstressed love from his little family.

  “Put me to work.” He swung in a half circle, glancing at the contents of all the boxes. “Where do you want me to start?”

  “You’re such a good boy.” Trent pointed to a box near Jericho’s feet. “That’s pantry stuff.”

  He lifted and carried the box to the pantry, and within minutes had organized the contents on the shelves. He knew Trent would reorganize it, probably today, but at least it was out of the box and available. Jericho moved from box to box in that fashion, taking direction from Trent when offered, but all the boxes had to be unpacked eventually, so he knew he couldn’t go wrong as long as he was helping.

  His phone buzzed in his pocket a couple of times, but he ignored the device in favor of finishing faster. The caller would be Nate or Jordan, and the one could wait, while the other would be best answered in private anyway. He felt his cheeks heat up and bent double, hiding his face behind the flaps of a box.

  The kiss.

  The whirlwind trip around his birthday hadn’t given them a chance to be alone again, not anywhere Jericho would have been comfortable for a repeat. But that didn’t mean the whole experience didn’t play on a loop in his head.

  Staring at Jordan across the dining room table later that night, he hadn’t been able to pull his gaze from the man’s mouth. He’d felt off-balance, but in a good way. In an I-know-what-he-tastes-like way.

  Then it had been time to return to California. Jordan had come over early the morning of their flight out, but Jericho had already been downstairs, helping Jaime in the kitchen. He’d been so tongue-tied and shy even Jaime had noticed, directing Jordan to assist with whatever he’d been working on. Jordan had bumped his shoulder, brushed the backs of his fingers with a touch, and at one point had pretended to swipe flour off Jericho’s cheek—when neither of them had been near where Jaime was making biscuits.

  Thank God that all the things Jericho saw as embarrassing, Jordan thought were cute.

  Jericho rolled his eyes and finished with a box, efficiently breaking it down afterwards and stacking the cardboard with the rest. “Done.” He looked around the kitchen with pride. “Done, done, and done. What do you want to start on next?”

  “Dinner.” Trent chuckled as he leaned an elbow on the kitchen island. “Then you need to get to bed early tonight. School tomorrow.”

  “Don’t remind me.” Jericho groaned. They’d arrived in the trucks two days ago and had been frantically unloading for most of yesterday so Jake could turn in the rentals. The unpacking wasn’t finished and wouldn’t be for a while, but this was his last day to really help because somehow in between everything else he had to do, Trent had managed to get all the paperwork he’d originally wrangled to California back to Tennessee. Jericho hadn’t seen the school except from a distance as he’d ridden with Jake yesterday. Even from blocks away the building looked huge, and intimidating, especially when compared to the school he’d attended before. “I could take another week. They don’t go over anything important for the first few days anyway.”

  “Nope. Tomorrow your butt is at a desk and you’re back in learning mode.” Trent offered him a semi-regretful smile. “Sorry, Charlie.”

  “That’s okay. It’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.” Jericho shook his head sadly, camping it up for his uncle.

  “Oh, did I tell you the news?” Trent had turned away and was half inside the pantry, doing exactly what Jericho had expected, shuffling boxed and canned goods around. “Connor got that new job. He’s going to be coaching at your school.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Would it be weird having family around all the time? He didn’t know about that, but Connor was pretty cool, and it didn’t hurt that Jordan thought highly of him. “That’s awesome.”

  “Trent?” Jake’s voice echoed in hard edges off unfamiliar surfaces within the house. Jericho couldn’t pick out where the call had come from. “Where are you?”

  “Kitchen.” Trent twisted back and forth, looking around the rooms visible from where he stood, apparently also unable to decide where Jake was. “Where are you?”

  “Offices.” Jericho turned just in time to see Jake come into view, a wide smile on his face. “It’s like a wild game of hide and seek, only you aren’t really hiding.”

  “I could hide if you wanted, big boy.” Trent’s campy flirting made Jericho laugh.

  “And on that note, I’m going to go to my room.” He grabbed the new backpack Jake had shown up with earlier today, filled with bags from the local big box store. “Take a minute to organize my backpack.” Trent opened his mouth, and Jericho shook his head. “Nu-uh. I never know where you’ve put things when you organize something. Plus, it’ll give you guys time to do whatever it is Uncle Jake has on his mind.” He took the stairs two at a time, calling over his shoulder. “I’m shutting my door. I don’t want to hear anything.”

  Laughter followed him to his bedroom, and he did what he’d told them he would. Door closed, he set the bag on the floor, dropping down beside it. Before he started unpacking bags and opening packaging, he pulled out the phone. There were two missed video calls from Jordan, followed by a text that simply said, Call me when you can.

  Propping the phone against a pillow on the bed, he initiated a video call, keeping his gaze on the screen as it connected and Jordan’s blue eyes filled his view. “Hey, how’s the apartment? Everything okay?”

  Jordan’d had to return to campus early—all athletes were required to attend conditioning camp. It didn’t matter that his scholarship sport didn’t start for months; by the time Jericho had gotten back to Memphis, Jordan had already been gone. His third year was beginning, and Jordan had decided to leave the dorms behind, finding both an apartment and roommate through the college’s housing department.

  “Yeah, it’s good. How’s the move coming?” Jordan shifted the phone, and Jericho saw he was at what looked like a dining room table. From where he’d propped the phone, Jericho could see a couple of thick books opened, visible sections of text highlighted in yellow. “Is that your room?”

  He smiled and nodded, glancing away from the phone to look around himself. “Yeah. It’s awesome. I can’t believe Trent was able to get it painted and everything before we moved in. We’re close to unpacked now, finally.”

  “Enjoy it while you can.” Jordan gestured to the walls behind where he sat. “Housing here is limited to about five colors. So far I think I’ve seen off-white, eggshell, white, ivory, and snow. It’s a giddy moment to find something as off the hook as cream.” Jericho laughed and Jordan smiled, one dimple creasing his cheek. “It looks good.” He paused, and his cheeks reddened when he continued. “You look good.”

  “So do you.” Jericho wished with everything inside him that Jordan wasn’t a couple hundred miles away. Even though t
hey were closer now, and he was certain to see Jordan at the holidays if not before, it still felt entirely too far.

  “Jericho, I—” Jordan jerked out of frame as a pair of arms circled his shoulders, a stranger’s face coming into view instead. Topped with a shock of dark hair, the deep brown eyes bored into Jericho.

  “And who’s this, lumpikins?” Lilting and bright, the man’s voice expressed a great interest in the answer to his question.

  “Daniel, get off me.” Jordan reappeared, turned sideways so his face and Daniel’s were close together. Kissing distance, Jericho thought. Jordan gripped the man’s wrists and ripped them from around his neck. “Knock it off.”

  “But who’s on the video, lover?” The casual way that word flowed from those reddened lips pierced Jericho’s chest, spearing deep and making him jerk in pain. Jordan was still trying to pull free from the man’s grip, but every time he’d remove one hand, the other would latch on somewhere else like an octopus. “Hmmm? Cheating on me already?”

  Jericho’s hand snapped out and his finger was only millimeters from the button that would disconnect the call when Jordan answered, his growled response enough to freeze Jericho in place. “It’s my goddamned boyfriend, Daniel. Get the fuck off me.”

  Boyfriend.

  “Well, why didn’t you say so. This is the vaunted Jericho, then? Hi, sweetkins. Your lovely man here has done nothing but talk about you.” The man pursed his lips, blowing a kiss at the camera. “Nothing but good things, of course. Hey…” His face came closer, eclipsing Jordan’s. “You didn’t think this was… Oh, honey. I’m sorry. I was just messing with him. Trust me, Jordan’s not interested in any booty but yours. Promise.”

  Jericho opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Daniel frowned, staring at him. “Serious, Jericho, he’s all about you. I was just playing around. Jordan, I think something’s wrong.”

  The view on the screen shifted, and then Jordan’s face filled the screen, his blue eyes looking worried now. “Jericho, that’s Daniel, my roommate.”