by Mari Carr
They never had a problem looking each other in the eye, which meant Oliver knew whatever his foster brother said next was going to piss him off. “Oh yeah?”
“I’m not sure this living situation is working out. Thought it might be a good idea if I head back home, stay with Sean, Chad, and Lauren until the pub and apartment are rebuilt. Give you and Erin a chance to shack up together properly. Good practice for your future marriage.”
“No.”
Gavin frowned, confused by his short, one-word response. “What?”
“You’re not leaving.”
Gavin’s confusion quickly turned to annoyance. “Don’t remember asking for permission, your highness.”
“Doesn’t matter. I’m not about to let you revert to type.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“Things get tough, someone gets too close, you look for the closest escape. Took years before you stopped trying to run from me. Now you’re doing the same to Erin.”
Gavin wanted to argue the point—Oliver could see it in the way his best friend’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t. That was when he knew his foster brother couldn’t argue—because Oliver was right.
“How many people have you let in, Gavin? In your entire life, who do you feel safe enough to truly be yourself with?”
Gavin looked away, and it was obvious he didn’t want to answer.
“Me,” Oliver said, giving him the easy answer first.
Gavin nodded, still refusing to look in his direction, looking instead out the window. “You.”
“And our folks…to some extent. Though I think you still hold back with them too. Never calling them mom or dad, still using their real names, refusing to let them see your scars.”
Gavin shrugged but didn’t deny Oliver’s assertions.
“Maybe Paddy,” Oliver said after a minute more. “Not completely, but you’ve cracked the door, right?”
Gavin nodded, finally facing Oliver again. “A little. Yeah.”
“Who else?” Oliver asked, perfectly aware that there was just one more name on the list, and it was a big one.
Gavin picked up a slice of toast, tearing the crust off of it.
“Say it,” Oliver prodded.
When Gavin continued to stare at him in silence, shredding his toast to crumbs, Oliver decided it was time to put all his cards on the table. “Erin told me you showed her your scars last night.”
Gavin nodded. “Yeah. I did.”
“Why?”
Gavin closed his eyes, and that was when Oliver noticed the dark circles under them. Even though he’d just woken up, Gavin was the poster child for exhaustion. Obviously, he hadn’t slept any better than Oliver.
“What do you mean, why?” Gavin asked.
Oliver held his gaze. “You’ve never shown anyone but me. You always wear a shirt with your lovers, and you haven’t even let our parents see them. Why her?”
Gavin blew out a long breath. “I don’t know why.”
Oliver made a buzzer sound. “Errrrr. Nope. Not accepting the cop-out answer. If you really don’t know why, then sit there a minute and think about it.”
“You’re a pain in the ass.” Gavin’s words were deadpan, completely lacking any emotion.
Oliver laughed. “I’m the product of not one but two psychologist parents. You know as well as I do, we were raised on introspection and self-analysis. Mom and Dad never let either of us get away with nonresponses.”
Gavin chuckled. “Jesus. You’re not kidding.”
“And you do know why you showed Erin, so just say it,” Oliver said, putting their conversation back on track.
“I showed her because I wanted her to know…” Gavin paused, considering each word. “To know me better. She thought my mom was dead.”
Oliver nodded. “I know. You never corrected that.”
“Neither did you,” Gavin pointed out.
“Wasn’t my story to share. Isn’t that sort of the point of trust? Respecting the other person’s privacy?”
Gavin took a bite of bacon. “It is.”
“Why do you want Erin to know you better? The two of you are already good friends.”
Gavin fell silent. Oliver could tell by the look on his face he wasn’t going to answer. So he let him off the hook. Again. It was either that, or the two of them would sit in silence for hours on end and they’d never accomplish a damn thing.
“I saw you last night.”
Gavin glanced up, frowning. “Last night?”
“I know you watched me and Erin.”
He had to hand it to Gavin. The guy’s poker face was rock solid. He cleared his throat uncomfortably. “I should have walked away.”
“Why didn’t you?” Oliver asked.
Once again, Gavin clammed up.
“Gavin,” he pressed.
“Leave it alone, Ollie.”
“No. I’m not backing down. Not letting you walk away from this. From us.”
“Us?” Gavin scoffed. “There is no us. Just you and Erin, with me hiding in the hallway, skulking in the shadows.”
“Why were you hiding?” Oliver prodded, tired of always backing down, always giving Gavin a bye. He wanted answers. He fucking needed them.
“Goddammit.” Gavin raked his hand through his dark brown hair, messing the thick mass up. “Just stop already.”
Oliver shook his head, even as Gavin’s face grew red with anger.
“No. Tell me why you watched us.”
Gavin tossed his fork down and it clanged loudly on the plate. Neither of them had eaten more than a few bites. “I couldn’t leave!” Gavin shouted, rising and stomping over to the counter, his back turned to Oliver.
“Why not?”
“Because of her. Fuck!” Gavin ran his hand through his hair.
“Her?”
“I couldn’t stop looking at her. I…I wanted her.”
Oliver opened his mouth, then closed it, words defeating him.
The silence lingered, but he’d be damned if he could think of a thing to say to that shocking revelation.
“Oh sure. Now you shut the fuck up.” While his words were light, Gavin didn’t turn to look at him. Oliver suspected he was probably afraid of what he’d see.
“Turn around, Gavin.”
Gavin lowered his head, shaking it miserably, so Oliver stood up and walked over to him. He leaned his ass against the counter Gavin was staring at intently, determined to avoid Oliver’s gaze.
Oliver shifted closer, nudging Gavin with his shoulder. “You want her,” he said, not bothering to hide his grin.
Gavin saw his too-pleased expression and cursed. “Please don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
Gavin gave him an exasperated look. “Go where you’re going. It was one…weird…night. And…Jesus, I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but…” Gavin’s eyes traveled skyward as if what he was going to say next would hurt. “I was pretty shaken up after showing her my back. I’m worried my feelings are sort of fucked up. Like…maybe it wasn’t attraction. It could have been gratitude or…something…and I’ve misread it all. Transference or some such shit.”
Oliver gripped Gavin’s shoulder. “Mom would be so proud of you. That’s next-level psychobabble there. I mean…it’s completely wrong, but you used a really cool, big word.”
“That’s super helpful, Ollie. Probably a good thing you followed in Sean’s footsteps.”
“You want my analysis?” Oliver asked.
Gavin shook his head and crossed his arms. “No. Absolutely not.”
Oliver laughed, then forged on. “What I think you’re saying is…you actually are bi.”
His joke hit its mark. Sort of.
While he didn’t laugh, Gavin’s eyes narrowed, though there was no heat in the look. “You’re a fucking asshole.”
“I’m a fucking happy asshole.”
Gavin sighed. “You know I’ve never been with a woman. I don’t have a clue how…or if…”
/> Oliver squeezed Gavin’s shoulder. “I’ll teach you. Now come on. We need to make a list and hit the store. You and I are going to seduce our girl tonight.”
Gavin huffed out a harsh breath. “Wow. That escalated quickly. You just totally went there. After I told you not to.”
“It’s me. And I’ve been waiting for this moment for-fucking-ever. Of course I went there.”
“Seriously, Ollie. How about we see how tonight goes before you start picking out china patterns? Maybe we can just have some dinner and talk and…I mean…what if I’m wrong? What if I can’t…”
“You can.”
“You know, just saying that doesn’t make it true. If I can’t… Jesus. I don’t want to think about what I might screw up if what I’m feeling is wrong. I don’t want to hurt her.”
“You won’t hurt her—you love her—and it’s not wrong. We can take it slowly, but we’re not walking away from this. Please. Try it. For me. For Erin.”
“Erin,” Gavin murmured. “What if she doesn’t want this?”
Oliver rolled his eyes. “You’re joking, right? You were there. You heard her call out your name.”
“Why did she do that?”
“Because she wants you, you idiot. She knew you were watching us last night too.”
That didn’t comfort Gavin, who cursed again. “Shit!”
“It turned her on.”
“It did?” Gavin asked.
Oliver nodded. “We both want you to be with us, Gavin. I know it’s going to take time for you to believe that, but it’s still the truth. And if you open yourself up to what I’m suggesting, if you really give it a shot, then we’ll have the rest of our lives to show you how much we love you. How much we need you to be with us.”
Gavin glanced away, but Oliver could tell it wasn’t a dismissal, rather a way for his foster brother to hide the emotions riding close to the surface. “I’ve been with you, with your family, for nearly a decade. I wish… I’m sorry I’m not better at…” Gavin ran his hand through his hair again, making his bedhead hairstyle even messier. “For fifteen years, my mother alternated between telling me I was a piece of shit who didn’t deserve to be happy to telling me she couldn’t survive without me. Makes it hard to hear one thing without waiting for someone to pull the rug out and flip the other way.”
“I get that.”
“I’m not using that as an excuse, I’m just saying…even now, after all these years with you and Sean and Lauren and Chad, it’s hard for me to really believe…”
Oliver pulled Gavin into his arms. “I love you, Gavin. And I’ll say it every day, bro. Every day until you believe it.”
Gavin hugged him back, and for the first time in his life, Oliver felt like all the pieces were clicking into place.
“So about tonight,” Oliver said as they parted. “I think we start with a candlelight dinner.”
8
Erin walked into the apartment, trying to shake off her exhaustion. It had been a busy shift in the E.R., and all she could think about was stripping off her scrubs, pouring a glass of wine, and conking out on the couch.
That plan changed the second she crossed the threshold and saw Oliver lighting candles on her small dining room table.
He frowned when he saw her. “You’re tired.”
She nodded. “Yeah. Long day. What’s this?” she asked, gesturing to the table.
“You’ve had quite a few long days lately.”
“Short-staffed. Lot of nurses out with the flu. Plus, it’s the holidays. Too many suicide attempts and drug overdoses.”
Gavin walked out of the kitchen with a glass of red wine in his hand. He handed it to her. “You’re late.”
“I know. I was just telling Ollie we were slammed. I got stuck filling out some last-minute paperwork. Did we have plans?” she asked.
Oliver shook his head. “Nope.”
She considered that for a second, and then panicked. “Are we celebrating something? Oh my God. Did I forget a birthday or anniversary or something?”
Oliver chuckled and repeated himself. “Nope.”
She took a sip of wine, glancing from Oliver to Gavin. “Gonna give me a clue here?”
“Gavin and I wanted to do something nice for you. Our way of thanking you for taking us in. Two homeless waifs, out on the street at Christmas.”
Erin laughed. “You could have moved back in with your parents.”
Gavin shook his head and feigned a shudder. “Two grown-ass men living at home? No thanks. Talk about ruining our street cred.”
Erin playfully patted his cheek. “Oh, aren’t you cute? You think you’ve got street cred.”
Gavin grabbed her wrist before she could lower her hand. She wasn’t sure how to react when he kissed her palm, stroking it just once with a quick brush of his tongue. The kiss distracted her enough that it was easy for him to grab her wineglass and take a big drink.
“Hey,” she protested. “That’s mine. I really need wine tonight.” Before she could reclaim the glass, Oliver reached out and took it, stealing his own sip. Setting the now-empty glass down on the table, he pulled her toward him.
“We’ll get you more. We’re going to take very good care of you tonight,” he said.
“I like the sound of that,” she said, not even bothering to shield the weariness in her tone. She really was wiped out.
“Thanks for letting us live here with you, Erin.” Oliver sealed his appreciation with one hell of a kiss. The two of them had kissed in front of Gavin plenty of times before, but those had been quick pecks of hello or goodbye. They reserved these kisses—these open-mouthed, lots of tongue, spine-tingling, toe-curling kisses—for when they were alone.
Twice, she tried to pull back, cognizant of Gavin watching and not wanting to make him uncomfortable, but Oliver merely tightened his grip. When he did finally release her, the cocky man had the audacity to give her a wink.
Although, she had to give him credit. She wasn’t nearly as tired as she’d been mere seconds ago. He always knew how to help her find her second wind.
“Where’s my kiss?” Gavin asked.
Erin gasped softly, uncertain what exactly had happened today between Oliver and Gavin, but clearly she’d missed a step or twenty while she was at work.
“I’ve never seen the two of you kiss,” she whispered.
But holy shit, did she want to.
Gavin shook his head, stepping closer—not to Oliver but to her. “I’m not kissing Oliver tonight. We’re thanking you, taking care of you, remember? Tonight is all about you.”
“But,” she started stupidly, “you don’t—”
Gavin wiped away any chance she had at finishing that thought. He placed his large calloused hands on her cheeks and drew her to him.
His kiss, like Oliver’s, left nothing to the imagination. She was motionless for a full twenty seconds before her brain engaged and told her body to get in the game. Lifting her arms to his shoulders, she parted her lips for him, tasting the wine they’d just shared, on his tongue.
The kiss was surprisingly gentle, despite the intensity of it. Gavin held back nothing, his fingers stroking her cheeks, as if she was made of delicate glass.
She started briefly when Oliver moved behind her, his hands resting on her waist, his chest pressing against her back.
Gavin broke off the kiss, his gaze locked with hers.
Erin held her breath, waiting, hoping, praying. She got a sense Oliver was doing the same, and that he’d positioned himself so that, like her, he would be able to see Gavin’s reaction to the kiss. They’d become good enough friends over the past year that she knew she was the first woman he’d ever kissed.
But why had he kissed her? What could that mean?
“Put me out of my misery,” she whispered when the silence lasted a second or two too long.
“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met,” Gavin said.
Erin drank in the words even as she tried to wrap her head around w
hat was happening.
“What’s going on?” she asked, trying to catch up.
“What’s going on is we’re about to embark on my wild dreams,” Oliver murmured, placing soft kisses against the side of her neck.
Erin watched Gavin’s face as Oliver explained. He appeared hopeful, yet…reticent?
“Gavin?”
His eyes softened as he cupped her cheek with one hand. “I’ve never been with a woman, Erin.”
“I know,” she whispered.
“But I want you.”
Only Gavin could make a statement like that sound equal parts amazed and anxious. Regardless, she smiled, and even laughed a little. She couldn’t help it. It was as if she was feeling happiness for the first time in her life. “Me? Really?” she asked, excitedly, struggling to believe this was all true.
Gavin shook his head, his huge grin matching hers. “God. You and Ollie and these goofy fucking grins. Yes, really.”
From behind her, Oliver chuckled. “Come on. Let’s eat dinner. Something tells me we’re going to need the extra calories tonight.”
Erin reluctantly stepped out from between the two of them and led the way to the kitchen. “Wow,” she said, as Gavin pulled a pot roast from the oven. “That smells incredible.”
“It’s Aunt Riley’s recipe. Called today to get it from her,” Oliver said, picking up a knife and slicing the meat. It was so tender, it basically fell apart, and Erin’s mouth started to water.
“We were slammed today so I missed lunch. Only managed to choke down a granola bar,” she said.
Gavin wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close, placing a quick kiss on top of her head. “You work too hard.”
She melted inside, loving this new closeness with Gavin. He’d become one of her best friends over the course of the past year despite the rocky start. She’d had to fight hard to push away her attraction to him, comforting herself with the knowledge it wasn’t her he didn’t want but women in general.
“I could say the same thing to you two.” Oliver and Gavin had always pulled long hours, never clocking out after an eight-hour day, but those hours had grown even longer since the fire at the pub. She suspected if it was up to them, they’d both work round the clock, desperate to put the pub back together.
