by A. M. Arthur
“Helps Slater walk without using regular crutches,” Derrick replied. “It’s called a hands-free crutch.”
“I love it for getting around our apartment,” Slater added. “Makes cooking a lot easier when I’ve got two free hands.”
The “our apartment” had probably slipped out without thought, but Trevor focused in on it fast. “Wait, you two are living together?”
Slater glanced at Derrick. Derrick said, “It’s not that we’re super serious, but it was the best solution for Slater’s recovery, so I offered.”
In exchange for five weddings and his daughter’s high school graduation.
Derrick would never live it down if Trevor found out he’d had to negotiate for dates this summer.
Conrad and Sophie returned with plates of food, and Slater eased Mia into her carrier so he could strap on the crutch. They joined the line, which moved at a steady pace as the ladies who prepared the food served portions of whatever folks asked for. Derrick followed behind Slater, in case he tripped or had trouble with the crutch, but they got through the line and back to their table without incident.
The food was incredible, and it was probably close to an hour before everyone, including the bridal party, had their food and was seated. Derrick half listened to the Best Man and Maid of Honor speeches, the other half of his attention on Slater. Their proximity at the table, the way their elbows sometimes brushed. The faint scent of Slater’s skin and sweat. Derrick felt eyes on him and looked up, right into Conrad’s smirking face.
Derrick kept eating.
As the meal slowly came to an end, folks rose and mingled, and the DJ played dance music in the far corner of the auditorium. A few of his aunts stopped by the table to investigate Slater, probably hearing through the grapevine that Derrick was no longer available to them for pairing up with a “nice girl from church.” Which was the entire point of bringing Slater along.
The trouble was, every time Derrick introduced Slater as his boyfriend, the entire thing felt more real. Less like the illusion it was supposed to be.
After all the official dances were over, the DJ invited everyone out to dance floor. “I’d ask if you dance,” Derrick said to Slater, “but you’ve got a bum foot.”
Slater snickered. “I’m a decent dancer, I guess, but nothing quite beats my wrestling moves.”
“I remember.” He’d loved how Slater had tossed him around on those blue mats—nope. Sexy thoughts would lead to a boner his thin slacks wouldn’t be able to hide. “But yeah, dancing would be a bad idea. You’ll need to get that ankle elevated as soon as we get home.”
“It’s already throbbing a little.”
“You need a pill?”
Slater considered it. “In a little bit. I want to be able to tolerate some pain and don’t want to risk getting hooked.”
“Good man.”
“You men are adorable,” Mom said from across the table. “Never thought I’d see the day when Derrick genuinely fussed over a romantic partner.”
Derrick hid a grin and sipped his soda, both pleased by the compliment and slightly embarrassed by the lie behind it. Slater wasn’t his partner, and he likely wouldn’t ever be. Despite Slater’s confession about Rachel, he hadn’t opened up about anything else in his past since, and he did his best to avoid Derrick’s subtle attempts to engage him in personal conversation.
Sophie returned from feeding Mia. She promptly handed the baby off to Derrick, grabbed her husband’s hand, and led him to the dance floor. Mom and Dad headed out during a slower number. Derrick enjoyed watching everyone dance to “The Time Warp.”
“If you want to go dance, you can,” Slater said. “You’re wiggling in your chair like you want to.”
“Are you sure?” He kind of did want to dance, especially if “The Electric Slide” came on, because he could bust that out.
“Absolutely. Go. Have fun for both of us.”
Derrick didn’t want to leave Slater’s side, but it had been ages since he’d gone out dancing, and his body missed it. Missed writhing around in close quarters to other gyrating bodies. Not that anyone was gyrating at a wedding reception full of kids, but Derrick could make do with what he had. He joined a diverse group of cousins and danced.
The DJ was good, mixing up the dance songs with party songs, and then a slow one once in a while. Derrick ended up dancing with his Mom to “Wonderful Tonight” because Dad’s bad knee needed a break.
“I think you’ve broken a lot of hearts today,” she said as they swayed to the music. “The family’s prize bachelor is off the market.”
Derrick grinned down at her. “Took me long enough, huh?” And in that moment it didn’t feel like a lie at all. He truly enjoyed his life with Slater, and he wanted it to be more than an arrangement, but so much of that hinged on Slater opening up. Sharing himself with Derrick the way Derrick was sharing his entire family with Slater.
“You and Slater look like you make each other happy.”
“We do.” Truth. At least on Derrick’s end. But Slater wasn’t the same broody guy Derrick remembered from the ranch. This Slater smiled frequently, did needlepoint and latch hooking, and he’d even made friends with Lucky the cat, who joined him and Dez in the foyer some afternoons.
“Then you hold on and you fight, if this is what you want.” Mom’s eyes were serious a beat, before she smiled. “All I’ve ever wanted for my boys was for you both to be safe and happy.”
“I am, I promise.”
They finished out the dance in a warm hug, and then Mom went to sit with Dad. Slater was holding Mia and chatting with one of Mom’s sisters. Slater seemed completely at ease, so Derrick kept dancing.
* * *
Slater had had no real expectations for how today might go when he got up this morning, and the entire production had gone smoothly. He got a few hostile looks from some of the older folk, and he didn’t read too much into it. Derrick had mentioned some of his relatives were not very accepting of him being bi, and the looks rolled off Slater’s back.
And he totally understood why Derrick was charmed by Mia. She was a very quiet baby compared to Rachel, who’d fussed about everything for the first six months or so of her life. Mia calmly took the world in, and he could tell Sophie was glad for the break. Holding the infant also reminded him of all the years he’d missed with Rachel.
He’d missed out on a lot of her childhood, but she turned eighteen this summer, and Slater truly hoped they could have a relationship as adults. He wanted that more than anything else in the world.
“You okay, honey?” the woman beside him asked. She was one of Derrick’s aunts and had been nattering on about something when Slater’s mind had wandered. He’d been terrible with names before his fall, but after? He likened his new memory to a colander: the big stuff stayed in but the little things slipped out and disappeared.
“Yes, sorry,” he said. “You were saying?”
She continued the story of how the law office she worked for had ordered Dream Boxes from Derrick’s nonprofit and how much fun it had been to decorate small totes and fill them with travel toiletries for distribution at a local women’s shelter. The story endeared Slater to Derrick even more as he learned more about what the man’s job was and who they helped. He’d had no real concept of nonprofits before now. But in a way, Arthur Garrett’s horse rescue was a similar animal. They took in horses that needed help, made a modest salary and did good work bringing abused creatures back to life.
His heart panged for that ranch in a way it hadn’t in weeks. Despite being somewhat limited to the house, Slater spent some mornings simply sitting on the front stoop, enjoying the sunshine. Not the same as his long walks around the ranch property, but he wouldn’t be going on any long walks for a few more weeks, at the earliest.
Maybe it was the fact that Derrick’s living room alone was larger than the entire ranch cabi
n, and that he had the foyer, too, but Slater didn’t feel as cramped or claustrophobic in that house. He didn’t need those long walks as much as he used to.
But is it really the house, or is Derrick part of the equation, too?
What if Clean Slate Ranch wasn’t his final destination after all?
Eventually, his bladder panged and Slater reluctantly gave Mia over to Sharon Massey, who was delighted to hold her grandbaby. She also pointed him in the direction of the bathrooms, which were back near the auditorium’s entrance. Without Derrick as wingman, navigating the room on the hands-free crutch was more daunting, but he managed without stumbling or falling. The throb in his ankle was getting worse, though, so he’d have to get an oxy from Derrick soon. Take the edge off.
On his way back from the bathroom, a young woman he didn’t recall meeting inserted herself directly in his path. “Are you really dating Derrick?” she asked.
Slater gaped at her. “I...yes. Who are you?”
“I’m his cousin Jada. Are you guys really dating?”
“Yes.” Despite the dating thing being a ruse, it still felt real to Slater. Not that he’d ever say as much out loud to Derrick or anyone else. Really dating meant really talking, and he wasn’t ready to do that. Maybe ever. Not about certain things. “Why wouldn’t you think we are.”
“Well, he’s dancing alone.”
Slater waved a hand at his crutch. “I can’t exactly bust any moves right now. And Derrick is a great guy. I’m lucky he wants me around.” So much truth in those words. “I’m not going to tether him to our table if he wants to dance.”
Jada eyeballed him for a few more seconds before smiling. “Okay. I love Derrick, and he’s never brought a boyfriend or girlfriend around, so we’re kind of protective.”
“I get it.” Sort of. Slater didn’t have a big, extended family to rely on, but Derrick did and he was glad for that. Glad that when this arrangement inevitably ended, Derrick would have his brother, parents and cousins around to help soften the blow of their “breakup.” Derrick wouldn’t be alone.
Slater would receive sympathy from his coworkers at the ranch, but he couldn’t imagine confiding in any of them. Or wallowing in his own feelings over the matter. Not that he expected to wallow. It wasn’t as if real feelings were involved here. He and Derrick were friends, and after they “broke up” they’d remain friends. No drama. No mess.
They’d each go back to their own, separate lives.
“So rumor is,” Jada said, “you broke your ankle on a dude ranch?”
“I did.” Slater really needed to sit, and Jada wasn’t going away, so he told her a bit more as she followed him back to the table. Then she managed to get Mia from Sharon and cooed over the baby, her focus finally off Slater. He hated talking about himself, but that’s what people did at these gatherings. Hopefully, by the end of the summer, he’d become a lot less interesting.
Derrick returned a while later, his skin glistening with perspiration, and he gulped from a cold bottle of water. “Damn, I haven’t done that in forever. Miss dancing but my body is telling me why I don’t go out like I used to.”
“He just turned thirty, and he’s already ancient,” Sharon teased her son. “Wait until you’re my age.”
Slater fiddled with his own cup of soda while Derrick’s words floated around in his head. The last couple of Saturdays, Derrick was home when Slater’s ranch friends came over to eat and play cards. Instead of going out and doing whatever he wanted, he’d chosen to get to know the ranch guys.
I can’t read too much into that. He has to be there or we won’t sell the couple thing.
Instead of commenting on the dancing, Slater quietly asked Derrick for one of his pills, then washed it down with warm soda.
“Ankle bothering you a lot?” Derrick asked.
“More than usual, but this is the most moving around I’ve done on it since I got the cast.”
“If you’re ready to head out, we don’t have to stay for the garter belt and bouquet toss.”
“Are you sure?” Slater was getting tired and really wanted to put his ankle up with an ice pack.
“Definitely. I already congratulated the bride and groom. Let me find Sophie and Conrad to say goodbye, and then we can go.”
Slater squeezed his wrist. “Thanks.”
“No sweat.”
Derrick kissed his temple again as he stood, and Slater...didn’t mind. The gesture was oddly sweet and slightly possessive, and it didn’t seem forced at all. A casual thing between boyfriends. He tracked Derrick around the auditorium this time, admiring the way Derrick’s fine ass moved beneath those dark slacks. The memory of fucking that fine ass over the workout bench flashed through his brain, and Slater bit the inside of his cheek hard.
When Derrick returned, they both said goodbye to the Masseys and little Mia. At the car, Slater said, “I hate to be a wimp about this, but do you mind if I stretch out on the back seat?”
“Of course not.” Derrick helped him with the crutch and got that blanket out of the trunk so Slater could elevate his ankle. His woodsy cologne tickled Slater’s senses and it was not helping his unwanted sexy thoughts.
They’d been on the road for about five minutes when Derrick asked, “So did you have fun?”
“Sure. I’ve never been to such a big wedding before. Six bridesmaids?”
Derrick chuckled. “Yeah, the groom has a lot of sisters, which paired well because the bride has a lot of brothers.”
That made Slater laugh. “One of your aunts said you were breaking hearts by being off the market now.”
“I’m sure those broken hearts will find solace somewhere else.” The statement was forceful and also...possessive? Of Slater?
He poked a little more. “You aren’t afraid of potentially losing dates after we break up?”
Derrick didn’t respond right away, and Slater swore the steering wheel creaked. From this position, Slater could only see a sliver of Derrick’s profile, so he couldn’t read the guy’s expression.
“I didn’t date before we met,” Derrick finally said, “so I don’t see that changing too much after.”
“Back to club hookups, then?”
“Dunno. Guess I’ll find out when it happens.”
Slater dropped the subject and watched the scenery go by. They were both subdued when they got home. No one was in the foyer, so they took their somber moods into the apartment. Slater hobbled to the refrigerator to get an ice pack, then found himself standing by the counter staring at it. Fingers going numb but unable to move. He disliked the idea of Derrick going back to club hookups, because Derrick deserved someone stable and emotionally open. Someone who could love him the way he should be loved. Not someone who fucked up every relationship in his life, including the one with his own daughter.
Not an ex-con like Slater.
Footsteps shuffled up behind him, followed by a light waft of cologne. His body prickled with awareness but Slater didn’t tense up. Hands rested lightly on his hips, and the simple touch sent blood rushing to Slater’s dick. For weeks, he’d slept next to a man he was incredibly attracted to. A man he enjoyed spending time with. Eating with. Doing nothing more taxing than watching a baseball game on a Sunday afternoon.
“I don’t want to think about the future right now,” Derrick said, his voice soft, earnest. “Not when the present feels so good.” Warm lips brushed the back of Slater’s neck, and he gasped. Put the ice pack on the counter but wasn’t sure what to do with his hands. Slater was upside down and turned around, and maybe they could blame this on wedding fever.
Slater grabbed the hand on his right hip and slid it down and around, leaving it over his hard cock. Derrick groped him, kissed his neck again, and Slater said, “Bedroom.”
“Fuck yes.”
Derrick must have momentarily forgotten the attached crutch, because
his attempt to turn Slater around ended with Slater’s extended calf slamming into Derrick’s knee. Slater fell into him so he didn’t hit the counter, and they both started laughing. Once they righted themselves, they managed to get into the bedroom and unstrap Slater’s leg from the crutch. The cast was still a heavy problem, but hey, tear-away trousers!
Slater tugged at the buttons of Derrick’s dress shirt, wanting to see the guy’s bare torso again but he didn’t want to ruin his clothes. Then again, Dez could probably sew on any missing buttons. All rational thoughts fled when Derrick leaned down to suck on Slater’s collarbone. He wasn’t sure how they’d both ended up naked, but Derrick was slotted between Slater’s spread legs, hard dicks rubbing, and he was making a snack out of Slater’s chest. His pecs, nipples, shoulders and neck. Even up to his cheeks and chin.
Everywhere except Slater’s mouth, because Slater didn’t kiss.
I don’t kiss hookups. This is more than a hookup.
But a mouth kiss felt too much like a declaration he wasn’t ready to make yet, so Slater surrendered to whatever Derrick wanted—for now. Derrick seemed content to taste every exposed patch of Slater’s skin, exploring him in a brand-new-to-them way. Far more intimate than wrestling in a shed. Because they knew each other this time.
Really knew each other.
Their first time together, Derrick hadn’t done much more than kiss the tip of Slater’s cock. This time, Derrick sucked him steadily into his mouth, using his hand and tongue to drive Slater crazy with pleasure and desire. He grabbed at Derrick’s short hair, unable to get purchase, and then resigned himself to whatever Derrick had in mind. Slater had a handicap with his hurt foot and giving Derrick control this time intrigued him. And it felt fucking amazing.
Derrick sucked him, rolled his balls, rubbed his taint, but didn’t go any closer to his hole. Slater was down with being fucked if that’s what Derrick wanted; he trusted Derrick to get them both off.
“Fuck, that feels good,” Slater gasped. “Damn.”
Derrick sucked on his nuts a beat before lifting his head. “What are you up for?”
