The look Lucas shot him was fond, and it warmed Elliot’s chest.
He reached over and slipped his fingers into Lucas’s hand, giving him a gentle squeeze.
Kevin glanced their way, but his gaze didn’t linger on their joined hands. His expression was smooth when he turned his attention back to the road.
“That’s pretty cool, bro,” he said with genuine enthusiasm. “You know anything about fixing up an ATV? My buddy said he’d give me a great deal on a pair of them, but there’s something wrong with the ignition. The motor turns over, but it doesn’t start. I already checked the battery. It’s fine.”
“Did you look for corrosion on the spark plugs?”
Kevin nodded. “They were just replaced last year.”
“Could be the ignition coil,” Lucas mused. “The CDI can fail sometimes, but that’s less likely.”
Elliot got such delight out of watching the quick intelligence in his eyes as he puzzled out a problem.
“I don’t suppose you could take a look while you’re here?”
Elliot stared at his brother. He’d introduced two boyfriends — only two — to his family, and both had been treated with barely concealed disgust.
If he’d known the way into Kevin’s heart was through engine talk, he’d have bought all his previous lovers subscriptions to Popular Mechanics on their first date.
He felt a surge of affection for his younger brother, who appeared to have done some maturing in the years since they’d seen each other.
“You should invite your girl for Christmas dinner,” he blurted.
Kevin’s eyebrows shot up. “We aren’t anywhere near that level yet.”
Elliot shrugged. “Can’t hurt to ask, can it? I’d like to meet the woman who makes my little brother smile before I head back to Oregon.”
“I’ll think about it,” Kevin said. He tried to play it cool, but Elliot spotted his quickly bitten off smile.
He socked his brother in the shoulder affectionately, and Kevin gave him a shove back.
It took a ridiculously long time to rent a car, thanks to Lucas’s vehicle snobbery, but he finally deigned to allow Elliot to sign for a CRV.
“Brand new tires on that one,” the man at the rental desk announced as he handed over the keys. “Just in case those clouds overhead dump the snow they’re promising.”
“I won’t hold my breath,” Elliot laughed.
“It’d be cool if it snowed,” Lucas said as they climbed into their rental and started up the defrost mode. He chafed his hands together for warmth in the frigid interior. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a white Christmas.”
“Portland had one about six years ago. Well, it was mostly melted by Christmas Eve, but close enough.”
Lucas shook his head. “I was in Snake River when that happened. It was just another day.”
“Do the inmates celebrate with each other?”
Lucas chuckled. “Prisoners exchanging contraband? Not where the warden could see it.”
“I thought there might have been something… unofficial.”
“Nah.” Lucas settled back into the CRV’s leather seat.
They didn’t often talk about his time in prison. It didn’t do any good to dwell on the past, and Lucas had done an astounding job of moving forward with his life. But once in a while, Elliot was curious enough to risk a question, only to be confronted anew with the horror of someone as good and kind as Lucas living such a grim reality for so many years.
“Did Trish send you anything?” he asked hesitantly.
“She had her hands full with the baby.”
Lucas wouldn’t hear a word against his sister, even if Elliot occasionally got riled up over the way she’d dropped him like a hot potato once he’d been convicted. He’d stolen a car, for Christ’s sake. He hadn’t hurt anyone. He never would.
“The Salvation Army sent me a card and a bible one year,” Lucas offered, looking thoughtful. “It was… nice.”
“Did you read it?”
“Sure, here and there. Wasn’t much else to do.” Lucas shrugged. “The gift itself didn’t matter. You know that saying: it’s the thought that counts? It really hits home when no one in the world is thinking of you, and you know it, and then something shows up that someone picked out just for you. That cheap little book with the red ribbon on it? It mattered. It wasn’t such a bad Christmas that year.”
Elliot couldn’t help himself. He grabbed Lucas’s hand and brought it to his mouth, pressing a kiss to the back of his knuckles. “You have the most beautiful soul I’ve ever known, Lucas Kelly.”
Lucas snorted, but his grin was big enough to show the dimple in his cheek.
“What was your best Christmas?” Elliot asked, changing the subject.
“Easy. I was ten and my dad bought me tickets to a Mariners game. We didn’t have much money, so that was a huge splurge, you know? As soon as the season started, he wrote me a note for school, and he took time off work. We drove up to Seattle and spent a couple of days there, just him and me.” His expression was distant, but happy. He blinked and cleared his throat. “What about you?”
“Does the year our tree fell over on Mark count?”
Lucas laughed. “What’s his deal, anyway?”
“I wish I knew,” Elliot huffed. “He’s always been this way, even when we were kids. Even Dad has always said he’s a cranky, ornery cuss. But for some reason, the rest of the family acts like he walks on water. It’s like his approval is so hard to earn that they bend over backward trying to please him.”
“But not you?”
“I was probably the same when I was younger. But I seem to nettle him more than most, and it only got worse once I came out to my family. I could only beat my head against that brick wall for so long before I gave up. I love him, and I guess he loves me in his own way, but…” Elliot sighed, heart aching like it always did when he examined his strained relationship with his older brother.
The ache worsened when they arrived at the hospital, only to find his mother cradled in Mark’s arms, sobbing her heart out.
“What’s wrong?” Elliot demanded, alarm spiking. “Is Dad—”
“He’s fine,” Kevin rushed to assure him. “They’re releasing him. He’ll be home for Christmas!”
“Then why is Mom—”
“Because she’s spent all week being the strong one,” Mark snapped, glaring over their mother’s fluffy hair. “But that probably never occurred to you. She probably spent all day yesterday trying to comfort you. Must be nice being the sensitive one.”
Rage surged. “You know what, Mark—”
Lucas grabbed him by the arm and yanked him back against his chest. “Let it go, baby,” he murmured. “Now isn’t the time. Let’s go check on your dad and get your mom some coffee.”
Elliot growled — actually growled, low in his throat like a dog — but he allowed Lucas to tug him away.
“That little worm,” he fumed. “I live all the way across the fucking country and I still made it here before him, but I’m the bad son?”
“Forget him, baby. Focus on the good stuff. Your dad is coming home.”
Elliot felt marginally better when Lucas wrapped one arm around his waist, and worlds better when they stopped by his father’s CCU room to find him sitting up in bed, grinning at them. His anger couldn’t hold a candle to the satisfaction of being able to introduce the love of his life to his father after almost losing him.
And nothing — absolutely nothing — could have prepared him for how good it felt for his father to shake Lucas’s hand and rumble, “Welcome to the family, son.”
7
Lucas
It had snowed overnight. Not the giant, fluffy drifts that Lucas always saw on television, but enough that he drank his coffee on the porch, despite the chill, just to gaze out at the smooth white world.
The bite of the air against his freshly shaven face was just this side of comfortable, and his lips tingled from the contrasting heat of h
is coffee.
Across the yard, Elliot’s older brother banged around in the shed. Every now and then he dragged a giant plastic tote into the open, only to disappear and start banging around some more. An occasional curse drifted through the winter air, usually followed by a loud thud.
Lucas watched with amusement, wondering if the man had any intention of lowering himself to ask for help. He wouldn’t bet any money on it.
Mark had barely spoken a word to Lucas in the three days he’d been here, preferring instead to focus on his parents to the exclusion of everyone else. He looked like it physically pained him when he was forced to acknowledge Lucas’s existence, and to a lesser extent, Elliot’s.
Lucas couldn’t believe the guy was a teacher, though Elliot assured him Mark taught high school biology. He behaved like some of the more unfriendly prison guards he’d known. The kids must hate him, or fear him, or both.
A giant plastic reindeer came flying out of the shed, landing with a soft thump in the snow. More followed, and on their heels came a red-faced, cursing Mark. He stood in front of the shed with his hands on his hips, blowing steam like a bull.
“Mom said it was a shame they hadn’t gotten around to putting lights up this year,” Elliot said, hugging him from behind. “Mark took it upon himself to get started before anyone else could volunteer.”
Lucas relaxed back into his chest, breathing deep. The familiar scent of body wash and fabric softener equaled Elliot and home in his instinctual lizard hindbrain.
“That explains why it looks like a scene from National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation over there,” he commented.
“You’ve just been standing here watching him?”
Lucas’s lips twitched. “Yup.”
Elliot laughed and kissed his cheek. “As satisfying as that must be, I’m going to go help. You’ve seen how crazy Mom goes over decorations. It’ll take all day, even with two of us.”
“I guess I can lend a hand, too.” Lucas swallowed the last of his coffee.
“You don’t need to,” Elliot protested. “This is the first time you’ve had off from the garage in three years. You should rest and enjoy it.”
“Are you kidding? I’m bored out of my skull. There’s only so many episodes of NCIS I can watch with your dad before I need to move my body. Besides,” he pinched Elliot’s ass discreetly, “I’m looking forward to seeing you bend over in those jeans.”
Elliot’s cheeks darkened. “I forgot to pack anything but slacks. Mom still had some clothes from when we were teenagers stored away.”
“And I’m very glad she did.” Lucas flicked his gaze up and down Elliot’s long form, appreciating the way the denim clung to his thighs and hugged the curve of his ass. His package was a faint outline against the worn fly.
“I think they were actually Kevin’s,” Elliot mumbled, shifting uncomfortably. “He was a lineman, so his legs were huge, even for a kid. I was a string bean baseball player. My old jeans probably wouldn’t even fit on one of your arms.”
“You’ve filled out nicely in your old age,” Lucas teased, filling his hands with Elliot’s delectable rear end and pulling him into a kiss.
Elliot tasted like coffee and maple syrup, and Lucas melted into the softness of his lover’s mouth. What had started as a quick, affectionate peck morphed into something deep and slow. Lucas took his time, licking up the sweetness of his mouth, sure, but delving deeper into the sweetness of his soul.
He didn’t know what karma he’d earned to deserve someone so good and kind in his life, but he thanked his lucky stars every day.
Elliot pulled away regretfully, lips clinging to his like he couldn’t bear to stop. His voice was rough with need when he said, “Come on, we better go help. He looks like he wants to kill us.”
Lucas would like to see him try. He didn’t say it, though. He was trying to be supportive.
Elliot had enough on his plate, dealing with his father’s recovery. It had been hard on him, realizing that the chance to mend fences had almost slipped through his fingers.
After dinner last night, he’d crawled into his childhood bed, curled up in Lucas’s arms, and sobbed.
Lucas had never seen him so undone, and he’d been helpless to do anything but hold him as tight as he could, stroking soothing patterns in Elliot’s back until he fell asleep.
“You decide to get off your ass and help?” Mark panted, carrying two reindeer under each arm and dropping them in the growing pile in front of the shed.
“I always planned on it. You just got impatient,” Elliot said calmly. He opened up a tote marked lights, revealing bundles of colorful giant bulbs.
“I wasn’t talking to you.” Mark’s gaze slid dismissively over Lucas.
Lucas stuck his thumbs in his pockets and rocked back on his heels, sucking on his teeth in a way that he hoped was every bit as irritating as it felt. “If you wanted my help, Mark, you just needed to say the magic word.”
Mark ignored him. “Do you want the house or the lawn?” he asked Elliot.
“We’ll take the house. It’ll be easier with someone to pass things up the ladder. When Kevin gets here, he can help you.”
Mark grunted and shoved a tote of Christmas wreaths into Elliot’s arms. “Here you go, champ.”
Lucas started up some music on his smartphone and stuck it speaker-side up in his back pocket before grabbing the ladder and following Elliot across the yard.
Thankfully, the house was a single level, so windows were a breeze to outline in twinkle lights and hang with wreaths.
When it came time to tackle the roof, Lucas climbed on top with the staple gun and reached down for the giant inflatable Santa that Elliot’s mother insisted be perched beside the chimney.
“You need a hand up there?” Elliot called.
“I’ve got it! Why don’t you start on the porch?”
Lucas was busy adjusting the tension on the nylon rope he’d wrapped around the chimney when Mark’s voice drifted up to him. “I guess that’s one way he can make himself useful.”
“I’m not dating him because he’s useful,” Elliot replied.
“Why are you with someone like him?”
“Like what? What’s he like, Mark?” The warning in Elliot’s voice caught Lucas’s attention.
“Too young for you, for starters.”
“He’s twenty-seven, you jackass.”
“Yeah, and you’re over forty. What the hell do you have in common with someone like him, besides an interest in your money?”
“My what?” Elliot’s laugh was incredulous. “I work for a nonprofit now. I don’t have any money.”
“Bullshit. You’re the most risk-averse person I know, baby brother. You’ve got a giant nest egg saved up from all those years working for that big shot law firm, you and I both know that.”
“Well, yeah, but it’s tied up in stocks, for the most part. I don’t use any of it for daily expenses. Why the hell am I telling you this, anyway? It’s none of your damned business.”
“When you bring a total stranger to our parents’ house, it is my business.”
“I’m headed down!” Lucas shouted, hoping to distract them.
He left Santa to his own devices and began making his way carefully across the steep slope of the roof. The ladder was on the opposite side of the house from where Elliot was hanging icicle lights from the porch.
He’d only made it halfway down when Elliot asked, “Should I have said the same thing when you married Shirley, then? She’s from the trailer park across town.”
“Leave my wife out of this,” Mark hissed furiously. “There’s a world of difference between the woman I’ve been married to for eleven years and whatever flavor-of-the-month you picked up roller skating by at the gay pride parade.”
“You—” Elliot sputtered. “You know nothing about Lucas. He’s—”
“He’s a punk, just like that last clown you brought by. He’s just on a different end of the pay scale.”
“S
hut it, Mark.”
“Make me, Elliot. Mom and Dad are too happy to see you, and Kevin’s too much of a softie, so someone has to tell it like it is. You’re being taken for a ride, little brother, and not just on his dick. God, how desperate are you to take it up the ass if you’ll let—”
He was cut off by a shout of rage. There was a soft oof and then the familiar grunts and thumps of violence.
Lucas leaped down the remaining rungs of the ladder, kicking up snow as he sprinted around the house.
The brothers were scrabbling in their mother’s snow-covered flower bed. Mark had Elliot by the front of his jacket and had a fist cocked to slam into his face, but Elliot wiggled out of his grasp and knocked him onto his stomach, driving him face-first into the snow with a hard shove. He ducked a wild swing but caught Mark’s elbow as it cracked back against his nose.
They were beyond arguments and had devolved into nothing but grunts and incoherent sounds of rage as they jockeyed for position.
The fury that contorted Elliot’s face was breathtaking. Lucas had never seen anything like it from his peaceful lover. Twin rivulets of blood snaked from his nostrils as he socked his brother right in the mouth, and then again, for good measure. The thick gloves they both wore barely left a mark.
“Whoa, break it up!” Lucas called, wading into the fracas and tearing Elliot away.
Mark used the reprieve to scramble to his feet and tackle Elliot around the midsection, yanking him out of Lucas’s hold and sending them both into a snowdrift.
Kitty bolted out of the doggy door, barking joyfully and pouncing around them, desperate to get in on the action.
“Jesus Christ!” Kevin came vaulting over the front porch railing. “Not this shit again!”
He hooked his forearm around Mark’s throat and applied pressure, keeping him pinned where he was while Lucas tugged Elliot clear.
“The truth hurts, Elliot!” Mark yelled, prying at his brother’s arm, but Kevin looked as if he could maintain the chokehold all day.
Elliot lunged, but Lucas wrapped both arms around his chest and held on tight.
The Rules of Gift Giving Page 5
