Come in From the Cold

by Tymber Dalton

  “I won’t go. I promise.”

  “You were only with her?”

  A hint of the smile again. “I’ve only slept with two people in my life, and I had a baby with one of them.” The smile faded. “If it wasn’t for Mackie, I…” He sighed. “I’d planned on going to my grave faithful to you. I’m sorry, Sir. If she hadn’t been pregnant, I would have just helped her hide, but I couldn’t risk a baby being put in harm’s way. Even one that wasn’t mine. Not and still live with myself.”

  Connor shoved back the wave of guilt that tried to hammer him to his knees. “I haven’t been with any women. Kayleigh was conceived thanks to a doctor.”

  “I don’t care who you’ve been with, Sir.”

  If Douglas kept calling him that…

  Wait.

  That’s exactly what he wanted Douglas to keep doing—talking to him like that.

  Calling him that.

  Connor kissed him again. “I’m out, I’m open. I mean as gay. The kinky part, obviously, I keep hidden.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Connor reached up with his free hand and used his thumb to brush Douglas’ tears away. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you when you showed up Sunday. I’m so sorry I broke my promise to you.”

  “It’s okay, Sir. I forgive you. I know you’re hurting, and that it’s because of what I did to you.”

  His sweet, gentle boy. Well, a man now, but Connor would always look into the other man’s eyes and see the boy he’d fallen in love with, given his heart to, bared his soul to.

  The boy he could never get over.

  The boy he could never not love.

  The boy his thoughts always returned to, no matter how he tried to forget him with other bodies and other men, or when a certain song would play or a scent would hit him just right.

  The boy he’d watched Cowboy Bebop and Fullmetal Alchemist with.

  The boy who’d held him as he’d cried.

  The only living person besides his mom who he’d ever confessed to about what happened to him…before the day the detective contacted him, that was. And before seeing Doyle and Niall professionally.

  The only person he’d ever truly trusted before his life shattered into a million tiny pieces he never thought he could reassemble and still be whole.

  The last person he’d ever bottomed to.

  The only person he’d ever willingly bottomed to.

  Connor pressed his forehead against Douglas’. “I love you,” Connor choked out, breaking down. “I never stopped loving you. I never stopped wanting you or missing you.”

  “I’ve never stopped either, Sir. I’m sorry I wasn’t faithful to you. I’d planned on it, then Mackie, she…” Douglas sighed. “I’m sorry.”

  “Move in with me.”

  “I don’t know if—”

  “That wasn’t a request.” He nuzzled the man’s face with his lips before kissing his cheeks, his nose, his chin, his forehead, raining kisses across his flesh like sweet, gentle sunshine finally punching through his soul’s gloom, slight stubble gently raspy against his lips. “So let me rephrase it—you are moving in with me. With us. Both of you are moving in with us. We’re a family.”

  “Yes, Sir,” Douglas whispered.

  For the first time since that last time between them, Connor reached up and fisted his boy’s hair, holding on tightly, tipping his head back so Connor could peer into his eyes. “You will marry me. This week. We’ll go this afternoon and get the marriage license.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Connor started to lean in, closing the gap between their lips again, and held back just before contact. “No hesitation?”

  “No hesitation, Sir.”

  “You don’t want a prenup?”

  “I don’t have anything, Sir. Except a car and some books. And Zee.” He blinked away more tears. “I trust you. If you tell me to sign one to protect you, I will. I’ll sign whatever you want.”

  Then it was suddenly Douglas holding Connor as Connor sobbed in his arms, the two of them sinking to the floor with Douglas cradling him much in the same way as Douglas had cradled him that dark night so many years ago when Connor had finally found the words to describe the horror he’d lived through and admit it to Douglas.

  To let the light that was Douglas into his soul.

  Trying to…scourge himself clean, back then, by using Douglas’ love and body and faith in him.

  Trying to make himself feel something, anything other than the self-loathing and anger and dark, draining pain filling his soul.

  It had always been Douglas who’d been his light, his way, his truth. It’d always been Douglas who’d warmed his heart, who’d made him believe maybe, one day, he could feel like a real person and not some shadowy chimera pretending to be fully human.

  He still lay there in Douglas’ lap, all cried out, when Niall knocked some time later.

  Douglas spoke up. “Come in.”

  Connor didn’t even bother trying to sit up.

  Niall stepped in, glanced around, then spotted them there on the floor behind the door, his expression immediately softening. He let the door swing closed and retrieved a box of tissues from his desk. He brought them over, squatting next to them and holding it out.

  “I take it there’s been a therapeutic breakthrough then, eh, Dr. Koenig?”

  Douglas grabbed several tissues and pressed them into Connor’s hand before taking a couple for himself.

  “Yeah,” Connor croaked. He took a deep breath and nodded. “Yeah.”

  Douglas stroked his hair and gave him a sad smile.

  “Brilliant. Five more minutes, then? I do have an appointment in fifteen and I need to prepare.”

  Connor nodded.

  “Thanks, Niall,” Douglas said, his gaze never leaving Connor.

  Niall smiled and nodded, leaving the tissue box there for them before stepping out again.

  Connor finally sat up and blew his nose. Then he turned to look at Douglas and reached out, cupping his cheek. “When do you finish today?”

  “I…I’m technically done. I don’t have any more appointments today. I was going to spend the rest of the day working on reports, but I can do that at home. They’re still easing me into the schedule for individual clients. I don’t have a full caseload yet.”

  Connor leaned in and kissed him. “It fucking terrifies me how much I need you in my life, even after all these years.”

  Douglas sadly smiled. “That’s all right, Sir. I have enough faith for both of us.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  They had put themselves together by the time Niall returned. “I’ve already called home,” Niall told them. “We’re good to watch the wee ones for ye both until nine. I’ve already told Etsu to plan dinner accordingly for Kayleigh. If ye need longer, please be aware Aden needs to be up early for work tomorrow, and it would be best for us to keep them all night if ye need later than that. We don’t mind doing that, either, if ye’d like an evening alone.”

  “We’ll be there before then,” Douglas said without waiting for Connor. “Thank you.” He wanted to be with Connor, but he couldn’t handle a full night away from Zee yet.

  Not yet.

  Just going back to work had been harder on him in some ways than he’d imagined after spending all day, nearly every day, with Zee, since her birth.

  “No worries.” Niall waggled a finger at Connor. “Let the man speak before ye cut him off next time, aye? Ye stupid wanker. Ye could’ve had this settled long before now, and without my help had ye.”

  “I deserve that,” Connor said.

  Niall hugged both of them. “Go on wit’ ye, then.”

  Douglas laced fingers with Connor, who let him lead the way to his office, where he quickly gathered his things. They had to stop at the receptionist on the way out so Douglas could talk to her and update her that he was leaving early.

  Outside, in the employee parking lot, Douglas nearly dropped to his knees when Connor shoved him against the side of
his SUV and kissed him, hard. “Follow me home. Now. I’ll get what I need, then we’ll take your car, run by your place, get what you’ll need, and go get the license.”

  “License?”

  “I meant what I said. You’re marrying me. I know someone who’s a notary who can do it for us this weekend. Three-day wait period to get married. We get the license now, get married this weekend, and then file it on Monday.”

  That’s how, less than an hour later—after leaving Connor’s car at his house, stopping by the hotel, and both of them changing into jeans and T-shirts—they were standing in line at the county clerk’s office. Connor had taken all their paperwork, including Douglas’, to hold it while they waited.

  Connor didn’t seem to care who was there and watching, because he kept his free arm draped around Douglas’ shoulders and frequently nuzzled his forehead, kissed his temple, his cheek.

  Douglas didn’t care. If that’s what Connor wanted to do, Douglas would give thanks for it and rejoice.

  Amen.

  It was a comforting kind of different that his Sir now stood several inches taller than him, and was definitely beefier. Connor wasn’t a steroidal gym rat or anything, but he made Douglas look practically skinny in comparison.

  For once, the priest, the psychologist, and the submissive man were all happy and having a drink together, toasting their apparent success.

  He wasn’t even quite sure how to process this, so he defaulted to going with it and letting Connor set the rules, the pace, their direction.

  Everything.

  The way it used to always be between them. The way he’d always been happiest.

  Whatever Connor wanted, Douglas would do for him.

  On the way back out to the SUV, Douglas was still trying to convince himself he was awake and not dreaming all of this. He’d awakened thinking he was stuck in Hell, and now it felt like he was in Heaven.

  “You look like you can’t believe this is happening,” Connor said.

  “I can’t.” He smiled up at Connor. “But I’m glad it finally is.”

  Connor leaned in to steal another kiss. “Me, too.”

  On the drive to the storage unit complex, Connor finally broached the subject. “I guess if you were married to one atheist, you can handle being married to another, huh?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Why doesn’t that bother you?”

  Douglas shrugged. This was an old conversation he and Mackie had way back in college, several times. And once again after she’d shown up. But it was an analogy he’d used a lot during his years as a priest.

  “People are like radios, and religions are radio frequencies. Not every radio set can pick up every signal. Some can only pick up one. Some pick up several. Some of them can read a wide spectrum of frequencies. And then there are some that only send instead of receive. Or they can only receive under very special circumstances. Doesn’t make any of them ‘wrong’ or ‘broken,’ just different.”

  “Doesn’t bother you I don’t believe in Heaven or Hell?”

  “The God I believe in is love. He made us who we are, and made us perfectly. We might not be perfect people, but that’s okay. He loves us the way we are. That means there’s nothing wrong with our love. We’re two adults. And I know, in the end, He won’t keep us apart just because you don’t believe in Him. Not when you’re a good person. He won’t punish you for your beliefs any more than he’ll reward some bastard who claims to believe in Him and goes around abusing children for years. I cannot believe an infinitely powerful God would be that petty or fickle.”

  “That’s not exactly Catholic dogma.”

  “I’m not exactly a Catholic anymore.”

  Connor seemed to need a minute to digest that. “I don’t want Kayleigh in a Catholic church. Ever. Hard limit.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “I won’t order you not to go to church, but I’m not letting her go. At least, not to one of those churches. And not Zee, either. She’s going to be my daughter now, too, and I don’t want her at risk from a priest.”

  Douglas risked a glance at him since they were stopped for a light. For a moment, he spotted the longing in his Sir’s face, the glimpse of the boy who had once loved the Church and what it represented.

  The boy he knew had been not just physically and mentally and emotionally wounded, but also spiritually.

  “I might eventually find a new church to attend, but it won’t be a Catholic one. I haven’t been to one since I left.” He thought for a moment. “I take that back. I misspoke. I stopped by a Catholic church during a gas stop in Murfreesboro, on my way to Florida. I needed to…talk. The priest there was very kind and heard my confession. It’d been over a year since I’d been inside a church. He offered me lunch, and we talked for a couple of hours. He also volunteered to baptize Zee.”

  Connor slowly nodded. “You didn’t leave her alone with him?”

  “No, Sir. I even took her into the confessional booth with me.”

  “Okay.” He reached over and rested his hand on Douglas’ thigh. “I’ve spent a lot of years angry for a lot of reasons. I know that’s not healthy, and it’s not how I want to raise Kayleigh. That’s why I started talking to Doyle and Niall. Trying to…move on.”

  Douglas laid his hand over Connor’s and squeezed. “I won’t leave you again, Sir. Not unless you order me to go.”

  “Fuck that. I’m tempted to bolt one of those radio tracking collars around your dang neck like they use for bears in Yellowstone.”

  Douglas smiled. “I won’t safeword for that, Sir.”

  “I’d damn well hope not.” His voice choked up. “I told Mom before she died that I was gay. I didn’t want to lie to her when she asked me.”

  Douglas swallowed back the lump in his throat. “What’d she say?”

  “She told me I should try to find you, because she always suspected I was in love with you, and she only wanted me to be happy. Because she’d never seen me happier than when I was with you.”

  * * * *

  Connor blinked back tears at the admission. He hadn’t thought about that afternoon in a long time. It’d been just him and his mom in the hospital room, and they’d been having some pretty deep discussions about…things.

  Like her funeral arrangements—cremation, and a service nowhere near a Catholic church or she swore she’d come back and haunt him in a way that would make The Exorcist look pretty damn tame—and other weighty topics.

  Then she’d come right out and asked him if he was gay.

  “I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you when she died,” Douglas said.

  “There’s nothing anyone could have done for her,” he said.

  Douglas squeezed his hand. “But I wish I’d been here for you.”

  So had Connor, but he wasn’t going to heap extra guilt on him for it. The past couldn’t be changed. “By the time they realized she had the cancer, she was only weeks away from dying. She was never happy after Dad died. Part of her died when we lost him. Then the shit the Church put us through…”

  Connor shook his head. “I’m just glad she didn’t suffer longer than she did.” He brushed at his eyes with his free hand, unwilling to let go of Douglas.

  “We need to talk about health insurance.”

  “We need to talk about adoptions,” Connor countered.

  Douglas glanced at him. “Do you know a good attorney?”

  Connor laughed. “Yeah, Ed Payne. He does work for a lot of the Suncoast Society people. He’s a family attorney. He can handle it.”

  “What about Kayleigh’s mother?”

  “What about her?” His mood darkened. “She signed away her parental rights. She gets no say in my daughter’s future. She put her in danger, risked her safety. She’s in fucking jail right now. She might as well be dead, as far as I’m concerned.”

  “Does she have any family who might fight us on this?”

  “No. She was estranged from them. Told me they were a bunch of drunks and drug addicts.
” He snorted, disgusted. “She left out the part where she was one, too.” He shook his head. “I don’t want them to have any contact with Kayleigh. Not a damn second.” He swallowed back his anger. “What about your family?”

  Douglas sadly shook his head. “No. They don’t want anything to do with me. I know this latest development won’t change their minds, either.”

  Connor squeezed his thigh. “We’re each other’s family. That’s all that matters. And we have good friends, like Doyle, Niall, Aden, and Etsu. They’re our chosen family.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I haven’t even introduced you around yet. There’s family-friendly events we can go to with the kids with the Suncoast Society people.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. Cookouts and stuff. Or movie nights, concerts, things like that. I’ve been to a couple.”

  “I’d really like that. Mackie and I had a few friends. Mostly people we’d met through work. We’d sometimes get together for game nights, or go out to eat.”

  They fell silent for a few moments. “I missed you so much,” Connor quietly said.

  “I missed you, too, Sir.”

  They arrived at the storage place and Connor took over renting a truck. Except when he’d started to get one of the mid-sized ones, Douglas stopped him. “We only need the small one.”

  “Are you sure?”

  The grief on Douglas’ face nearly killed him. “I moved us down here with a six-by-twelve trailer with room to spare. We really don’t need a truck, Sir. The trailer is cheaper.”

  Connor turned back to the clerk. “Do you have one of those trailers?”

  “Not until tomorrow, sorry.”

  Connor wasn’t waiting that long. “We’ll take the smaller truck, then. Returning it tomorrow.” He pulled out his wallet to get his license and credit card.

  “I don’t think I can drive a big truck, Sir,” Douglas softly admitted.

  “I’m driving it.” He reached down and patted Douglas on the ass as the woman started the paperwork. “Let me handle it.” Even that small gesture made Connor want to cry—good tears this time.

  How many times in the past had he used that same gesture with Douglas?