Only for the Weekend

by Jen FitzGerald

  Cole frowns and nods again. “Mostly, yeah. But worse than that, they all want to hook me up with someone’s brother or son or cousin, and I’m not there yet.”

  Tucker nods, but thinks Cole’s full of shit. The part about not being ready. He gets not wanting to be hooked up. People think they know you, what you want, what your type is, but choosing a hookup, much less a significant other, is so personal.

  “And my mother keeps asking for grandkids. Of course, Connie gets that question too, so that doesn’t bother me quite as much as the rest.”

  Tucker shrugs his shoulder and slides his backpack to the floor. He leaps onto Cole’s bed, star-fishing his long arms and legs. “King size bed. Nice. Plenty of room to play doctor.” He winks.

  Cole blushes and rolls his eyes.

  That’s something at least, and Tucker sits up, cross-legged. “Okay, so this is your show. I can be whatever you want me to be. Serious, fun, aloof. If you want my opinion, and you want to sell this thing between us, then let’s just have some fun. I’m handsy as fuck, though, even with friends, so if that’s going to bother you, I can try to keep my hands to myself.” Tucker sweeps his hands like he’s making angel wings next to himself on the bed. “I take it we weren’t going to sleep together, literally or figuratively, huh?” And isn’t that a shame? But, hey, he gets it.

  “No. I was going to put you in the guest room.”

  Tucker slides his gaze down and up Cole’s well-built physique. “Can’t say as I’m disappointed though.”

  Cole opens his mouth to shoot Tucker’s hopes down, but Tucker holds up a hand. “Hey, no, I get it. I’ll stay on my side of the bed.” He says that, but he’s a restless sleeper and a cuddler. Chances are high he’s gonna be on Cole’s side of the bed come morning. But no sense in worrying Cole about it now.

  “So. How long have we been dating?” Tucker asks.

  “The last family gathering was the Fourth of July, so maybe right after that?”

  Tucker nods. “How’d we meet?”

  “Through Kara. That’s one less lie we have to keep track of.”

  “Right. Well. Perhaps we ought to head back down. Saying hello properly is one thing. Disappearing for twenty minutes—” Tucker waggles his brows “—is something else.”

  Cole’s luscious lips purse.

  Tucker’s cock twitches. Seeing them wrapped around his hard-on would be amazing. Too bad Cole’s already put the kibosh on sex.

  Tucker shrugs and scoots off the bed. “I am who I am. It’s going to be a long weekend for us both if you’re gonna freak out every time I open my mouth.”

  “I…” Cole closes his eyes and hangs his head, hands hanging off his hips. Faint sounds of Connie moving around downstairs permeate the silence. He looks up and nods. “You’re right. It’s a long weekend anyway—I mean a holiday weekend. Barring a veterinary emergency, I really do want to have fun for a change.”

  “Okay, so let’s have fun. Let’s be boyfriends then.”

  “Okay.” Cole smiles, a small but shy though genuine smile, and Tucker’s stomach clenches. This man is sweet and gorgeous and Tucker so wants him to have a good time. He’d rather the good time include sex, ‘cause heaven knows Cole could probably use a really good, friendly fuck. Tucker’ll do what he can to encourage that happening, because it sounds as though Cole hasn’t gotten laid in a while, but also because Tucker definitely wants to tap that.

  “One more thing…” says Tucker.

  Cole nods, inviting Tucker’s comment.

  “My version of being boyfriends is probably way different than your version. If I do something that you can’t live with, please, please pull me aside and say something. This is your family and your weekend. I don’t want to alienate you or makes things horribly awkward with your family.”

  Cole nods again. “Yeah. Okay. I can do that. And thanks. I really don’t know why you’re doing this.”

  Tucker shrugs. “Because you’re nice and deserve a break, and I could do worse than spending a three-day weekend with a good-looking guy, enjoying the weather and good food.”

  “You think I’m good looking?”

  Tucker gets right up in Cole’s space and looks into those shiny chestnut-brown eyes.

  Cole stares back.

  “I think you’re hot as hell.”

  Cole’s eyes dilate slightly.

  And I want to jump your bones. Instead of saying that, though, Tucker cups Cole’s face and presses their mouths together, although he keeps the kiss chaste. Then he slides his hands down Cole’s arms and takes his hands. “That’s what you’re in for. Let’s eat.”

  Cole appears a bit taken aback, but nods. Tucker lets go of one hand, but tugs him along by the other.

  “Sorry ‘bout that,” Tucker says upon entering the kitchen. “Cole was just getting me settled.” He tosses a wink Cole’s way.

  “I see…” Connie is clearly amused, and Cole’s trying to go with the flow, but looking a bit awkward.

  Connie pulls the baking dish from the oven and delivers it to the dinner table. There’s a bowl of salad, three bottles of dressing, and a little container of bacon bits. The scent of butter and garlic tells him there’s garlic bread somewhere—maybe in the basket with the steam emanating through a checkered cloth.

  “Who cooked?” Tucker asks, sliding into the seat next to Cole and bumping shoulders. “This is a meal fit for a king.”

  “Connie made the lasagna,” Cole says. “I made the salad.”

  Tucker peers into the salad bowl and peers at Cole. “Looks fabulous.”

  It’s quiet as they each serve themselves and prep their meals. Connie doctors her salad and Cole cuts his lasagna into bitesized pieces. Tucker takes his first bite of the lasagna and groans. The flavors pop in his mouth. “Oh, God, this is delicious,” he tells Connie. “I’m super excited to finally meet y’all’s family. We haven’t talked much since we started dating…” Tucker puts the implication out there. The statement is true regardless.

  Cole coughs.

  Connie smirks.

  “Is there anyone I need to be especially careful around?”

  “Careful about what?” Cole asks, a crease forming across his forehead. Bless his heart.

  “Careful about being gay,” says Tucker. Even the most inclusive family has at least one asshole.

  “No,” says Cole.

  “Doug,” says Connie at the same time.

  Tucker looks from one to the other.

  “Doug’s our stepbrother,” explains Connie. “Our mother married Thom and Doug’s dad. He’s a bit of a pompous pr—”

  “He’s an asshole; doesn’t mean he’s a gay basher,” Cole says, shaking his head. “And Doug’s presence doesn’t mean the rest of us have to walk on eggshells so as not to set him off. Tucker could show up in drag for all I care, and Doug can kiss my ass.”

  Connie busts out laughing. “Oh my God. I’d love to see his face. But,” she sobers a bit, “Cole’s right. You absolutely should be your adorable self. Just beware and be prepared.”

  “Always,” he says. His estimation of both Cole and Connie just tripled. Each of their comments indicates a level of acceptance he hadn’t expected. Oh, sure, they’d have tolerated him for the weekend, but Cole’s specific mention of coming in drag—something that is a very real occurrence in some of Tucker’s circles—indicates an awareness and recognition of alternate lifestyles. And an affirmation.

  Forks clink against plates as they settle into eating for another few minutes.

  “Three days for a family reunion, huh? Is there, like, a set schedule or anything?” Tucker finally asks.

  Connie snorts. “The Hansards do love to party.”

  “There’s only one must-attend event,” says Cole. “Sunday brunch. Otherwise, it’s just three days of visiting, eating, and drinking. But there’s the lake, so swimming and boating if you’re so inclined. There’s usually cards and dominoes going on. Someone will inevitably set up horseshoes. Dancing in the even
ings. Fireworks on Sunday night.”

  “Sounds like fun.” After wiping his mouth, Tucker leans over and presses a kiss to Cole’s cheek. “I know this is a pretty big event at which to reveal your boyfriend.”

  Cole ducks his head, a slight flush creeping up his neck, and nods. He meets Tucker’s gaze. “Yeah. I… Thanks for agreeing.”

  “Of course,” Tucker says with a wink. “Nothing a queen loves more than a dramatic entrance.”

  Chapter Three

  Tucker awakens and registers several things all at once. He’s hard, which happens just about every morning. He’s not in his own bed, which happens rarely. And most importantly, he’s plastered against Cole’s backside—hard-on snug in Cole’s ass. He can’t remember the last time he’d woken up in such a position. Not that he’s complaining.

  More than anything, he wants to start a little something-something, but he’d promised Cole he’d stay on his own side of the bed. Of course, Tucker’d known that was a promise he wouldn’t keep, but he doesn’t have to add insult to injury by instigating sex.

  Tucker scoots away from Cole. “Hey, sorry. I’m a cuddler. If there’s a warm body in the vicinity, I gravitate toward it.”

  Cole says nothing. He gets out of bed and disappears into the bathroom.

  Well, shit. Tucker stepped in it that time. What more could he do than apologize? Unless, of course, Cole’s not mad. Maybe he’s—oh, hell—maybe he’s turned on and is embarrassed. Which, the more Tucker thinks about it, the more he believes that’s the case. It’s a good sign, too, although he doesn’t want to push. So he’ll apologize again and then just be as tactile as he can be. As tactile as Cole will allow. And see what happens.

  Cole exits the en suite a minute later, looking somewhat groomed.

  “I really am sorry.”

  Cole shakes his head, gaze barely grazing Tucker’s. “No, no, it’s fine. I just had to pee is all.”

  Just had to pee, my ass. The lack of eye contact supports Tucker’s theory of embarrassment. Tucker’ll take the excuse for what it is, a deflection, and move on. “My turn, then.”

  There’s a knock at the bedroom door as he comes out of the bathroom and he tugs the comforter half off the bed as Cole opens the door. Cole looks at him askance, alarm edging his features.

  Connie’s eyes flick from Cole to the bed to Tucker, wearing nothing but a towel. “Mornin’ boys,” she says. “Coffee? Breakfast?”

  Tucker doesn’t know her well, but he thinks there’s a smirk playing around her smile. “Yes, please. Lemme get dressed and I’ll come help. I make a mean French toast.”

  She heads out of sight with a nod.

  “What’d you do that for?” Cole asks when the door’s closed, waving a hand toward the bed. “Now she thinks we slept together.”

  Tucker arches a brow.

  “I meant—” A bit of a flush colors his neck. “You know what I meant.”

  “Had sex, and, yes, I know. You want to sell it, don’t you? Do you honestly think she wouldn’t have wondered anyway? From the little I know, your family’s never seen you in a relationship, so they’re going to be curious. How many straight people see a gay relationship up close and personal?”

  Surprise flashes across Cole’s face. “I-I don’t know.”

  “Not many, unless a close friend or family is in one. The percentage of gay people in America is actually pretty low—less than five percent—and people are naturally curious. Some are plain nosy, some are just obnoxious about it, but most are just curious as to how it works, especially with two guys.” Tucker shrugs and yanks off his towel. “Be prepared.”

  Cole’s eyes get big, but he shakes his head and buries his face in his phone while Tucker gets ready for the day.

  He stops Cole from opening the door with a hand to his arm. “Remember what I said last night.”

  “About?”

  “First, things might get a little awkward with your family; that’s just the way this works. Decide how much you can live with. Which leads into the second thing—communicate with me. When you start feeling out of your comfort zone, say something, all right? I won’t be mad or take offense.”

  “Okay, yeah. Thanks.” Color creeps over Cole’s collar and he ducks his head.

  And isn’t that charming. Tucker could have so much fun teasing this man, but he won’t. He’s not that much of an ass. “You ready?” Tucker asks.

  “This is supposed to be a fun weekend.” Cole gathers himself and nods, smiling at Tucker. “Let’s have some fun.”

  * * *

  Cole pulls into the parking lot of the pavilion at the lake. A dozen cars fill the shady spots close the building, but he parks his big truck at the outskirts, just in case there’s a vet emergency he has to leave for. That’s his story and he’s sticking to it. There’s absolutely no reason for his heart to be hammering against his rib cage or for his breakfast to be congealing in his stomach.

  “Stop worrying. It’ll be fine.”

  As if Cole’s panic is flashing in big neon letters. “I know, I know… Let’s do this.”

  Tucker comes around the hood of the truck and Cole’s blown away again by how attractive he is. A snug raspberry pink tank shirt showcases his long, toned arms and well-rounded shoulders. It also matches the pink/green plaid of the ass-hugging shorts he’s wearing. Cole may not be interested in Tucker for more than the weekend, but he’s not dead and he’s certainly not blind.

  Tucker’s fingers twine with his and a spark flashes up his arm as if he’s been shocked and his arm jerks. Tucker doesn’t let go.

  Cole glances from their hands to Tucker’s grin. “Boyfriends. Fun in the sun. Remember? It’s not like we’re going to fuck on the picnic table.”

  Cole’s eyes get big. Tucker laughs.

  “I’ll be good, I promise.”

  Cole’s heart is thrumming—there’s still so many things they didn’t talk about. Honestly though, he has no idea what they should have covered.

  The pavilion is a large wood structure with big windows on three sides, looking out onto the lake on one side, a covered patio with a scattering of picnic tables on another, and a large tree-shaded grassy area on the third. Inside it houses restrooms and a commercial kitchen. Large round tables covered with plastic tablecloths and surrounded by chairs are set up on one side of the long rectangular space so folks can eat or chat in the relative cool and take a break from the summer heat.

  “Cole, my love, how are you?” calls his mother.

  He swallows the urge to throw up. It’s ridiculous to be so freaked out. He takes a breath. What’s the worst that could happen? Everyone teases him mercilessly? They’re gonna tease him anyway. That’s better than being pitied. So. Yeah. He can do this.

  Tucker squeezes his hand and lets go.

  Mom’s arms are open, inviting his embrace as she walks toward them, though her eyes are wide, flitting back and forth between him and Tucker. His stepdad follows in her wake, smiling widely, bald head shining even in the dimness of the indoors. A ruff of light brown hair circles his head like a wreath.

  “Hi, Mom.” Cole hugs her as expected, but only for half a second. She pulls away and turns to Tucker. “You must be Tucker. I’d love to say I’ve heard so much about you, but—” She throws Cole a look. “I haven’t.”

  Tucker holds out his hand, but she pulls him into a hug as well.

  “Oh, well,” he says and huffs in amusement and hugs back, “nice to meet you, Mrs. Hansard.”

  “Oh, goodness, no. Call me Elaine. This is my husband, Thom.”

  The two men shake hands.

  Cole releases a relieved breath. Not so bad at all. But it’s his mother. He’d have to bring home a serial killer for her to not be pleased. It’s everyone else he’s got to worry abou—

  “As I live and breathe,” hollers another voice from across the room. “Cole Reid with a—is that a boyfriend?”

  Cole’s stomach drops and a cold chill washes over him. He’d forgotten about Pammy.
He shakes off his freak out and flashes her a grin as he closes the distance between them. “Hey, Squirt.” He scoops her up and whirls her around.

  “Cole, my favorite cousin,” she says loudly, “I want you to meet Rafe Sanchez, my boyfriend. He works on one of the rigs north of town.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Cole says, taking Rafe’s large hand. While clean, it’s mottled with dark spots here and there. He’s got dark brown eyes, black hair, and the dark complexion of someone with a Hispanic heritage who works long hours in the sun. Bright white teeth shine when he smiles.

  “Nice to meet you too,” he replies in mildly accented English.

  “This is Tucker,” says Cole, and there’s another round of hugs and handshakes.

  Pammy eyes Tucker up and down, lips pursed, eyes considering. “Well, I gotta say, you’re not what I was expecting Cole to bring home to meet the family.”

  Tucker stiffens beside him, and shit .

  Pammy winks then. “But God, you’re gorgeous.” She curls a hand around Tucker’s arm. “Come with me,” she says and propels him toward the outdoor patio.

  “I’m in big trouble,” Cole says to Rafe. Pammy may not care who he brings home, but she knows how so not-a-boyfriend Tucker really is.

  Chapter Four

  “ Soo… Tucker, how long have you and Cole been doing the horizontal mambo?” Pammy asks, tugging him into the shaded heat. She stops at one of a dozen ice chests he can see scattered around the patio and under the trees and digs around, coming up with a can of root beer.

  “A gentleman never kisses and tells,” he says pleasantly, but on guard. He’s not sure what her deal is, and Cole only mentioned her in passing. But if her directness and her sense of humor is anything to go by, Tucker thinks he’ll like her. The fact that she has blue hair, several tats, and a piercing in her eyebrow bodes well for him on a couple of levels.

  She holds the can away from them both and pops the top with a pssht . The faint scent of vanilla wafts up, reminding him of warm summer days back in Diller’s Hollow. Back before he became the family pariah. He hasn’t had a root beer in a dozen years. He pushes the memories of his cousins away; he’ll get maudlin later. This is Cole’s weekend.