by Lynn Lorenz
Everyone stared at each other. Mitchell stepped back, leaving Brian and Sammi on the front line. Sammi felt exposed, vulnerable as he observed her. Small, like him, she peered back at him with the same dark eyes as his.
He searched for her in the jumble of Brian’s and Mitchell’s thoughts. Brian worried that this had been a mistake. Mitchell hoped he wouldn’t be too hurt if she rejected him.
None of that mattered. He had family. Whether she wanted him of not, he belonged.
“Mrs. Rose Waters, this is Samuel Waters, your grandson.” Brian motioned to Sammi.
“Hello.” Sammi flashed a nervous smile. “Grandmother.” He gave his bangs a flick of his hand to push them out of the way.
“Come on in.” She stepped aside and they entered. After shutting the door, she led them to the living room and pointed to the couch and chairs. Sammi sat on the couch, and Mitchell and Brian sat on chairs.
Mrs. Waters sat next to her grandson.
“And who are you?” She looked at Mitchell.
“I’m Sammi’s friend. I’m here for moral support.” He gave her a smile but her mouth was a thin, tight line.
Sammi felt her uneasiness with the meeting. Unhappy and quite unsettled. Not a good beginning, but he’d work hard to prove himself to her. He could be a good grandson if she’d just give him a shot.
She stared at him then spoke, “So, Samuel, what do you want to know?” She sat back, hands folded neatly in her lap.
Sammi opened his mouth then frowned. “Why you don’t like me.”
She gasped.
“Oh, I look too much like my mother. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” He reached out to her and placed his hand over hers.
She jerked away, her eyes wide.
“Sammi can hear the thoughts of others, remember?” Brian jumped in. “I know it’s a little disconcerting but…”
“It’s all right.” She waved her hand to dismiss his words. “Lydia was just like him.” She stared into his eyes. “You look just like her, Samuel.”
Sammi smiled. “Thank you. Did she look like you or her father?”
“Like me. But she had her father’s willfulness.” She chuckled.
“Mitchell says I’m determined.”
“And stubborn,” Mitchell added.
“Do you remember your mother, Samuel?”
“Call me Sammi. With an i.”
“All right.”
“No, I was very young when she left…” He stopped. “When she put me up for adoption.”
“Where are my manners?” Rose stood, went into the kitchen and returned with a tray holding a pitcher of iced tea and four glasses. “Help yourselves. I’ll be right back.”
The guys looked at each other, shrugged, and Mitchell poured out the tea.
Rose returned, carrying a small box. She sat and took the lid off it.
“These are some of your mother’s things. I kept them hidden from her father. He would have thrown them out with the rest of her things.”
Sammi’s heart was a staccato beat in his chest. His mother’s things. Never in his dreams did he ever think he’d get to see, much less touch, something that had belonged to her.
She dug in the box, pulled out a few pieces of baby clothing, a well-loved doll and a small photo album. “Here. You should have this, I think.”
She handed it to Sammi and he accepted it with trembling hands. He placed it in his lap and opened it. As he turned the pages, taking in each photo, memorizing the face of a beautiful young girl who had never grown up, his eyes filled with tears.
“She’s so beautiful.” He blinked and the tears ran down his cheeks.
“You look just like her.” Rose leaned close and ran her finger over the image. “Same small build, same dark hair and eyes.”
“Your hair and eyes.” Sammi glanced up at her as a wave of longing and sadness poured off her. “Don’t cry.” He reached up and wiped a tear from her cheek.
“You’re a great one to tell a body not to cry.” She returned the favor.
Sammi shrugged. “You know, it doesn’t mean you’re weak if you cry. It means you have a loving heart, strong feelings and a good soul. I can tell that about a person, you know.”
She smiled at him. “Just like Lydia.”
Sammi gasped as a window to her feelings opened. She loved him, and she didn’t even know about him, what he’d done, or how low he’d sunk.
“I’ve had a troubled life, too,” he whispered.
“Do you want to tell me about it?” She placed her hand on his and gave it a squeeze.
“Yes, I do. But I’m afraid once you hear about it you won’t like me or want me.” He searched her eyes but she gave him another squeeze.
“I want you. No matter what you’ve done, Sammi. Besides, I can tell you’re a good man.”
“You can?” Sammi straightened.
“I may not be as in tune to thoughts and emotions as your mother or you, but I’ve always been a good judge of people.” She winked at Brian. “Never would have let you in if I wasn’t.”
“Well, I’ll be,” Brian muttered.
Mitchell caught Brian’s eye and jerked his head toward the kitchen. The men rose and gave Sammi and his grandmother space and privacy.
Sammi sent Mitchell his love and sent Brian his thanks.
Without these two incredible men in his life, he would still be a sex slave, a prisoner, unloved, without friends or family.
“Do you think my mother loved me?” Sammi stared into his grandmother’s dark eyes.
“I’m sure of it.” She smiled at him then turned the page and told him about the next picture in the little album.
* * * *
Moving day. Brian led the convoy in the van as Mitchell drove Brian’s Tahoe, with Sammi proudly following in Mitchell’s Jetta. They pulled up to the small house Brian had rented in Spring Lake. It was simple, but all he needed. Two bedrooms, living area, one bathroom, kitchen, a laundry room and a carport for his SUV.
More than enough for a man living alone.
He backed the truck into the drive, parked and got out.
“Wasn’t your rental agent supposed to be here?” Mitchell asked as he met Brian on the front sidewalk.
“Yeah. I’ll call her. She’s probably running late.” Brian flipped open his phone, searched his contacts and hit the number.
“Spring Lake Reality,” a chipper voice answered.
“This is Brian Russell. I’m at the house and need the keys.”
“Mr. Russell? What house?”
“The house I rented last week. Put down the eight-hundred-dollar deposit for.” Brian was getting irritated.
“I’m sorry. Hold on. Let me get someone to help you.” She put him on hold and country music came on.
“What’s going on?” Mitchell asked.
Sammi waited next to him, his eyes darting from Brian to Mitchell to the house.
“There’s a problem with the house.” Brian shrugged.
“That’s okay. We’ve got all day to unpack.” Mitchell pulled Sammi to him and tucked him under his arm.
“Don’t worry, Brian. It’ll be all right.” Sammi grinned up at him from under that sexy mop of black bangs.
“Not worried. Not yet.”
The phone line clicked. “Mr. Russell. It’s Mrs. Hart. I’m sorry, but Mr. Weston came by my office this week and cancelled your lease. He said you’d found something else and he was handling it for you.”
“What?” Brian yelped.
“Was that wrong? Mr. Weston said he knew you and I had no reason not to believe him. He’s an upstanding member of this community. Been here all his life.”
“Fine. Never mind. I’ll get this straightened out with him and get back to you.”
Brian snapped his phone shut. “That son of a bitch.”
“What’s going on?” Mitchell’s brow furrowed.
“Rush. He canceled my lease.” Brian growled as he fisted his hands. If he ever got his hands on t
he bastard…
“He can’t do that, can he?” Sammi asked.
“Seems so. Seems he’s a respected member of this fair city, and people will do whatever he says.” Brian cursed and kicked the nearest tire of the truck.
He circled around and flipped open his phone. “We’ll just see about that. I have to report to work in the morning, house or no house, and he can’t stop me from doing that.”
“Are you sure?” Sammi’s question froze Brian.
“Just how much pull does this guy have, Brian?” Mitchell chimed in.
“Not enough, I hope. If he thinks he can run me off this easily, he’s mistaken.”
He punched up the police department’s number. “This is Brian Russell. Is the chief in?”
“Hold on, Brian, I’ll see.” The dispatcher put him on hold.
“Chief Whittaker. What’s up, Russell?”
“I’ve got a problem. There’s been a mix up with my lease. I’ve got to find a place to stay tonight, but I’m going to be there in the morning.”
“Hmm. Where are you?”
Brian gave him the address.
“Okay, I’ll expect you in.” The chief hung up.
“Next up. The cowboy.” Brian grimaced as he punched up the contact list.
A black Ford F-250 pulled up behind the van.
“He’s here,” Sammi said.
Brian turned around and watched Rush slide out of the truck, shut the door and walk toward him.
“You’ve got some nerve, you bastard.” Fists raised and ready to do battle, Brian advanced. He’d taken the big man down once—he’d do it again if he had to.
“Wait a second. Hold on.” Rush’s hands went up in surrender.
“You cancelled my rental. That was low, cowboy. But it won’t matter. I’ll just get a motel room until I get this straightened out.”
“I need to explain. Can you just listen to me?”
“Listen to you!” Brian surged forward and Mitchell caught him, pulling him back.
A police cruiser slid to a stop and Chief Whittaker got out.
“What’s going on here?” He looked all business in his khaki shirt, black pants and spit-shined black boots. Pushing his Stetson back from his forehead, he scanned the two men. “Russell, explain why I find my new officer in what looks like the beginning of a fight.”
“Mr. Weston cancelled my rental agreement without my authorization.” Brian pointed an accusing finger at Rush. He might have ruined this house, but not his new job.
Whittaker leveled his no-nonsense gaze at Rush. “Rush, is that right?”
Rush stared at Brian being restrained by Mitchell and his heart bled. He’d wanted to do this, but the growing crowd was daunting, to say the least.
Whittaker stared at him, waiting for an answer.
Brian’s eyes burned with undisguised anger, and in that instant, Rush feared that whatever he said would be wasted.
“Rush, what’s going on here?” Whittaker’s gaze shot from Brian to Rush. “I can see that you two know each other.”
No going back. He’d do what he came here to do, damn the consequences.
Rush took a deep breath, gathered that famous Weston courage and gazed into Brian’s eyes. “He doesn’t need the house. I want him to move in with me and live at the Double T.”
Whittaker straightened, pushed his hat back even higher and narrowed his eyes. “Now, why would he want to do that?”
Rush kept his gaze locked with Brian’s. “He’s my…uh, boyfriend.” It sounded so high school, but still right.
Whittaker cocked up one eyebrow. “Well.” He paused. “Russell? Is this true?”
“Are you serious?” Brian asked Rush, ignoring the chief’s questions.
“As a snake. A rattler, actually.” Rush gave him a soft smile as Brian’s searching gaze plumbed his heart. “I know I’ve screwed things up between us. Maybe for good. But if there’s even a chance, I still want you. If you’ll have me.”
Mitchell and Sammi moved away to the Tahoe.
Brian stared at him. “I don’t believe it.” He ran his hand over his face.
Whittaker cleared his throat. “Rush, you know what you’re saying, don’t you?”
“That I’m gay.” Rush nodded. “And that I’m in love with Brian.”
“Just checkin’.” He turned and faced Brian. “No matter where you wind up living, I’ll see you at seven a.m. sharp at the station.”
“Yes, sir.” Brian nodded, his gaze not leaving Rush’s face.
The chief nodded to the other men, got back in his patrol car and left.
Mitchell, his arm slung over Sammi’s shoulder, leaned against the Tahoe.
“Well, Brian. Where should we go?” Mitchell called out. “To the motel or to the ranch?”
Sammi didn’t even try to hide his grin.
Brian walked up to Rush, stood toe-to-toe with him and locked eyes. “You did it. You came out. To Jack Whittaker, the chief of police.”
“Yeah. After you left, I had to face facts. If I wanted you, wanted any kind of life, I had to accept myself.”
“And you don’t care who knows?”
“Not really.” He sighed and cupped Brian’s face. “All this time I thought I’d been ashamed of who I am, but what I was really ashamed of was my cowardice. Not standing up to my father, or to this town. But once I admitted that there was nothing wrong with how I feel about you, and about myself, it was an easy choice to make.” He exhaled. “It’s so freeing. I never thought it would feel like this.”
“You’re not afraid of what the people here in Spring Lake might think of you? Or losing business?”
“Yeah, I’m scared shitless. I won’t lie to you. But losing you terrified me more.” Rush flashed a smile then he sobered as he took Brian’s face in both hands. “Forgive me. Let me make it up to you, every day of our lives, darlin’. Let’s live together at the ranch until we’re both old, and all we can do is sit on that porch swing and watch the sunsets.”
Brian rested his face in Rush’s calloused hands and closed his eyes.
This was what he’d dreamed of since he’d met Rush in that dark alley. He opened his eyes and gazed into Rush’s brilliant blue eyes. God, he loved this man, despite all of Rush’s screwed-up, fumbling attempts at finding and accepting love. It would be hard, no doubt about that. Rush was going to be a handful, but Brian could handle the big cowboy.
“Mitchell? Sammi?” Brian called.
“Yes?” They stepped forward, all eyes on him.
“Follow us to the Double T. After we unload my stuff, we can come back into town and have dinner.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Mitchell replied.
Rush exhaled and pulled Brian against him.
“Careful, cowboy. Someone might see us,” Brian warned.
“Let ’em look, I don’t care.” He planted a kiss on Brian’s lips. Brian slipped his arms around his shoulders as he melted into Rush.
“Hey, guys,” Mitchell called. “Get a room.”
The two men broke apart. Rush slung his arm around Brian’s shoulder and grinned at Mitchell and Sammi.
“Let’s get going. I need a good night’s sleep tonight.” Brian headed to the truck.
Rush groaned. “I guess that means you’ll have to take the guest room tonight, because if I put my hands on you, there will not be a moment of sleep to be had.” He grinned wickedly and climbed into the driver’s seat of his Ford.
They pulled out, followed by Mitchell and Sammi in the Tahoe, and headed to the Double T ranch.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“That’s the last of the boxes.” Brian fell into the chair in the kitchen and took the cold beer Mitchell handed him.
“How can one man generate so much stuff?” Mitchell asked. “I never realized you were such a pack rat.” He grinned as he sipped from his bottle.
“I’m not a pack rat. There are important documents in those boxes.”
“You should have them scanned, then h
ave them destroyed. There are companies that do that, you know.” Mitchell laughed.
“Destroy them?” Brian’s eyebrows shot up.
“Hey, I don’t mind, darlin’. I’ve got lots of space to store them. We can convert one of the unused bedrooms into an office.” Rush came to Brian’s rescue as he slid into a seat and placed a possessive hand on Brian’s shoulder.
“Thanks.” Brian held up his beer and the two men clinked bottles.
Sammi sat next to Mitchell. “Guys, as much as we’d love to hang around, it’s getting late and someone mentioned dinner?”
“Right.” Rush laughed. “How about the diner?”
“Are you sure you want to go into town?” Brian asked. “There’s easing into it and there’s balls to the wall.”
“You think a group of guys having dinner is balls to the walls?” Rush ran his hand through his hair.
“Well, if you can get Sammi and Mitchell to keep their hands off each other, good luck. Nothing says, ‘we’re into dick’ like those two. Just saying.” Brian shrugged.
Mitchell reared back. “What? We’re the dead giveaway?”
“Yeah. It’s us.” Sammi nodded. “But I promise to behave, if Mitchell does.”
“You got it. Let’s go. I want to be on the road before it gets dark.” Mitchell stood and pulled Sammi up. He kissed him fast and hard. “That should hold you until we head back.”
Sammi grinned. “Yep. But not for long,” he warned.
Brian groaned. “Food. Fast.”
* * * *
After a well-behaved meal, Mitchell and Sammi settled the fight over who would drive back to Houston. Mitchell won, citing the fact that it would be dark and Sammi didn’t have any experience driving at night on the interstate.
Rush and Brian waved them goodbye from the diner.
“Home?” Rush asked.
Damn, that sounded so good to Brian. “Yeah, home.”
* * * *
They went up the porch steps and stopped. “You going to carry me over the threshold?” Brian joked.
“Nope. But here’s your key.” Rush held out a shiny new key. “Give you the honors of opening the door.”
