by Amy Lane
Ross snorted and kept loving until the cat was practically comatose with happiness. He grinned. “That’s a kitty. You’re a big furry pushover, you are.” He winked at Tenner. “I think he likes me.”
Tenner’s expression remained unimpressed. “He probably thinks you have food.”
“Me? Naw. I’m charming. Face it. I just charmed the whiskers off your kitty here. I’m a genius.”
“Why are you here?” Tenner asked, his eyes darting behind him, probably checking for his daughter. “With clothes!”
Oh, yeah—that probably looked presumptuous. “Don’t get your knickers in a knot. I was going to change out of my baseball clothes.” Ross gestured to Tenner, who had probably changed as soon as he walked through the door. “Like you did.”
Tenner’s expression softened. “That’s fine. The downstairs bathroom is down the hall by the staircase.”
Ross took an assessing look around, liking the dark hardwood floors and the light coming in from skylights in the vaulted living room ceiling. “Nice digs! Three bedrooms? That’s sweet. Pat’s place is in this same neighborhood, but, like, way bigger. Pat’s got the mansion on the hill, you know?”
“Pat’s got a law degree and an MBA,” Tenner said dryly. “Pat can afford the mansion on the hill.”
Ross winked at him. “Yeah. My sister caught herself a good one, but the McMansion isn’t everything.”
“I’ll settle for my McCottage,” Tenner said, pursing his lips. “And I’d better go start the McFeast. Would you like some salad with your mac and cheese with hot dogs?”
“The luxury never ends,” Ross said, chuckling at his own joke. “Be out in a sec.”
Once he’d changed, he set his duffel down by the door and sauntered into the kitchen. On his way, he passed Piper, coloring quietly on the couch, Joe purring on her lap, SpongeBob on for background noise. She gave Ross an absent smile and wave, but was so obviously content, Ross returned the gesture without a word. When he got into the kitchen, water was set to boil and Tenner was pulling stuff out of the refrigerator.
“Here,” Ross said. “Hand me the lettuce and carrots. I mean, if you’re going to spoil me with greens, I might as well help.”
Tenner pulled out of the fridge long enough to do exactly that, asking, “Beer?”
“Domestic or imported?”
Tenner wrinkled his nose. “Does it matter?”
And Ross had to laugh. “Only when it’s noteworthy. Like, if you’re a beer connoisseur or something. I could ask for a beer, and you’d go, ‘Here, have a Reeking Fish—it’s apparently brewed with real tuna!’ And I’d be like, ‘I’d rather drink warm Michelob, thank you,’ and then we’d never speak again. But if you have standard beers, microbrewery that doesn’t suck, or regular old domestic, then it’s just a beer.”
And finally—finally—he got a laugh out of the guy. “Fat Tire. It’s supposed to be microbrew, but it’s practically old-school in Folsom.”
Ross felt a happy feeling start at his toes. “Pale ale? Lager? Dark? Never mind. I don’t care. Surprise me. It’s all good.”
“Oh my God, you’re easy,” Tenner said, handing him something blond.
“I thought we’d already established that Friday night,” Ross said, and he was unprepared for the utter look of shutdown and shame crossing Tenner’s face.
“About Friday night…,” he said, dropping his voice, and Ross held out a hand.
“We don’t have to talk about it right now,” he said kindly. Poor Tenner. He looked like a kid who’d been caught peeing in the bushes—not only embarrassed but ashamed. “I get it. It wasn’t your usual MO. Not mine, either, to be honest, but don’t worry. We can pretend it didn’t happen until you’re ready for it to happen again.”
Some of Tenner’s usual uptightness cranked his expression to maximum disapproval. “My God, you’re arrogant. Seriously, you think that’s going to happen again?”
Ross used the bottle opener built into the side of the counter, highly satisfied by the hiss as the cap popped off. “God, I hope so.” He took a drink and swallowed before Tenner could stop sputtering in outrage. “Not tonight, of course. You’re taking care of your kid. You don’t want her to get attached—I get it. I’m a baseball friend and that’s all. But if you’re picking her up on Friday night, there’s got to be some nights you’re all by yourself, right?”
Tenner opened his mouth and closed it again. “I drop her off at school Monday morning. Depending on her school schedule and Nina’s travel schedule, I get her for a half week sometimes, but most weekends, she’s here.”
“Then what are you doing Monday night?” Ross asked hopefully, but he kind of figured it wouldn’t be that simple.
Popping the top off Tenner’s obvious reluctance would be a lot harder than popping the top off his beer, but possibly a lot more satisfying.
“Bringing home my work, as usual,” Tenner said, his understated sarcasm sending a shiver up Ross’s spine. He’d suspected as much, that Tenner didn’t have much of a social life, but Tenner had just confirmed it. He set his beer down on the counter and started chopping up lettuce. Ross noticed the salad ingredients included crushed pita chips, green olives, and feta cheese.
“Does Piper eat that?” Ross asked, distracted.
“No.” The backs of Tenner’s ears turned red.
“No?” Oh, how fascinating.
“There is another grown-up in the house. I like Mediterranean salad. Usually I chop chicken into mine and make it a meal, but….” He gestured to the water, which wasn’t quite boiling yet.
“Mac and cheese and hot dogs. I understand. Now, about work. You’re in Pat’s department?”
Tenner shrugged. “I work with video chip components and help clean up the code so the chip can give the computer better instructions. Sounds boring, but I get to play video games early, so that’s exciting.”
He sounded like he meant it.
“What’s your current favorite?” Ross asked, enchanted.
Tenner named one of the newest ones, and Ross let out a low whistle.
“I haven’t even had a chance to play that one yet,” he said.
Tenner swallowed, and Ross saw the exact moment he decided to make the invitation. “After dinner. You know. Piper and I usually play a couple rounds of Mario Kart, but once she’s in bed, you and I could play a round or two.”
Well, yeah. That game was a little violent for a kid. “I’d like that,” Ross said. “Seriously. Thanks for the invite.”
And now Tenner’s entire neck was red. Oh, this was really fascinating. Ross wondered what he could get Tenner to say that would make his nose light up like a spinning cherry!
“Glad to do it,” Tenner told him, his eyes totally concentrating on dicing little green olives. His cheeks got blotchy with that one. Damn. So adorable. “So, uh, what do you do? I mean… uh, for work.”
And there went his forehead. Oh my God! This was amazing amounts of fun. Still without looking at Ross, Tenner used the back of his chef’s knife to expertly scoop the chopped components of the salad into a white glass bowl. Ross waited for him to set the grater on top of the bowl and start grating carrots into it before answering.
“I’m a horticulturist, or at least that’s what’s on my degree. But I’m more like a horticultural engineer.”
The carrot paused on the grater, and Tenner actually looked at him. “Like where to plant what? Really?”
Ross laughed softly. “Now see, I usually lose most potential dates with that. Too many syllables, you know?”
“But plants are so important right now,” Tenner said earnestly. “What have you been working on? What brings you here?”
Ross let out a breath. This part was… hard. “Well, I was in the Amazon,” he said, his heart hurting. “There’s so much devastation. And my government grant ran out, so I came back to lobby for private funding to go back.”
“Any luck?” Tenner asked, and Ross gave a sigh of relief. He obviously didn’t have
to explain how important this work was.
“Well, I did get a couple of companies to fund my team, but first, I had to offer my services in trade.”
“So….” Tenner was regarding him seriously, and Ross was surged with an entirely different form of gratification.
Respect.
Not just a pretty face or a good fuck—this guy was listening to Ross as a person, and Ross usually only got that kind of attention in the field.
“Well, besides helping with environmental impact assessments on a local level, I’m giving seminars to a bunch of different companies in the area—yours included—where I talk about the importance of, say, solar panels over the parking lot, or drought-resistant landscaping, and why it’s important to choose indigenous and noninvasive species when to plant. I like the idea, honestly, it’s important work too. So much can be done with education and a little bit of resource allocation. And Pat and Des are the greatest. I’m living in their basement playroom right now, but I’ve got my own bathroom, and Desi set up an actual bed that doesn’t wreck my back. The kids don’t go down there much—they’re getting old enough to not need all those big bulky toys, you know?”
“Yeah,” Tenner said, and to Ross’s disappointment, that marvelous red flush began to recede. Bummer. Ross had been hoping it would flood to Tenner’s almost delicate little nose.
“What’s wrong?” he asked. “Did all that talk about environmentalism turn you off?”
“Oh, no, not at all!” Tenner finished up with the carrots and added a couple of slices of radish and then put the grater in the sink. “It’s fascinating. And you’re right, it’s really important work.”
“So…?”
“Could you pass me the feta please?” Tenner inquired politely, pointing to the counter on Ross’s other side.
“Sure.” Ross picked up the little plastic container and held it, just out of Tenner’s reach.
Tenner looked at him sideways. “Can I have it, please?”
“Sure,” Ross said again.
“But you’re not giving it—”
Ross kissed him.
It was sort of a ballsy move, but he figured he’d only need one little kiss. He’d forgotten how sweet Tenner’s lips were, how that combination of aggression and shyness made his balls ache. Ross pulled back first, his face hot, and put the cheese in Tenner’s hand.
“Why did you do that?” Tenner asked, his eyes darting predictably to the living room, where they could both see the back of Piper’s elbow as she leaned on the side of the couch to color.
“Why’d you go all white and quiet?” Ross asked, equally as intense.
“I was wondering when you’d be leaving to go out in the field again,” Tenner said with dignity, and Ross caught his breath.
Not stupid. Tenner Gibson was not stupid.
“Does it matter?” Ross asked, playing for time.
Tenner met his eyes, and Ross thought a little wistfully about how he’d been waiting for that. Big brown eyes…. When they weren’t narrowed in concentration or irritation, they were really damned pretty.
“I don’t know, Ross,” Tenner said evenly. “Why are you here?”
Well, shit. “Because Friday night was totally awesome,” Ross said. “But it wasn’t perfect, and I’d like to know you better.”
Tenner went back to his salad again, dumping feta crumbles in before sealing the container again. “Beans or no beans?”
“No beans,” Ross said automatically. “They give me gas.”
Tenner rolled his eyes. “Me too. Maybe we should have beans for sure.”
“No, please.” Ross took the salad bowl off the cutting board and gave Tenner the package of hot dogs sitting in front of him. “No beans.”
Tenner took the hot dogs and checked the water again. Boiling. “Okay, here’s the big question. Blue box mac and cheese or my homemade mac and cheese?”
“Which one does Piper like best?” Ross asked carefully.
“She says it’s mine, but I think that’s because I let her wear jeans and get dirty in the backyard.”
“I like that reason. She sounds like a bright and gifted child, and I will side with her,” Ross said gravely.
“Good answer.” Tenner’s lips—mostly lean but with a little tender pout on the bottom—twisted. “Unlike the one you gave me for how long you’re here.”
“Two months,” Ross said, conceding. “I’m raising enough money to be gone another two months, and then I’ve promised to come back again and make sure the programs I start up are being run right.”
“And after that?” Tenner asked mildly.
“After that, we’ll see.” Ross shrugged. “The Amazon is going to need years and years of restoration, and fundraising is important too.”
“Have you worked in a lot of places?” Tenner was moving now, reaching into a pantry to pull out a bag of whole-grain egg noodles. As Ross spoke, he came back to the stove to dump them into the boiling water.
“I’ve moved around ever since I got out of college,” Ross told him cheerfully. “It’s been great—helped me see the world and learn more about the ecosystem. And it’s like every new place I go, the more in demand I am. I mean, when I finally decide to settle down, I’ll be able to pick and choose my jobs.”
Tenner snorted.
“What?”
“Damn, son. Must be great not to ever get knocked down.”
Wow. Yeah. That had sounded pretty conceited, hadn’t it? “That’s not true,” he said. “I’ve had my share of rejection. This Amazon thing? The first time I ran it by a government agency, I was given a giant folder talking about why climate change was a myth.”
Tenner groaned. “Oh, for God’s sake—”
“Right? I had to approach three different agencies before I found one that was actually on my side, and more importantly, had the funds to help. I got knocked down plenty. I just… you know. Found a way.”
“Wow.” Tenner gave the noodles a couple of swipes with a wooden spoon to break up any clumps before rinsing off his chef’s knife and moving on to the hot dogs.
“Wow what? What is that sound?” For a moment, Ross was uncertain, and he hated that. He wasn’t always on top, and had learned to pick himself up plenty after setbacks, but he usually knew what he was dealing with. It was disconcerting that he couldn’t read this man.
Tenner shook his head and shrugged. “Just… that’s a lot of optimism.” He gave Ross a rather broken smile. “That’s really admirable, that’s all.”
And now Ross’s neck was on fire. He took a hasty sip of his beer. “Thank you. That’s, uh, nice of you to say. But what… what makes you say that?”
“No reason.”
Oh, there was most obviously a reason—something had obviously killed Tenner Gibson’s optimism dead.
“Could you get the bag of shredded cheddar out of the refrigerator? And that strainer from the top of the fridge? It’s about time to get this show on the road.”
TENNER KEPT him busy for the next few minutes, setting the table and dishing up food. He called Piper to have her wash her hands, and she bobbed in a few minutes later, looking tired but content.
Dinner was a surprisingly fun affair. Piper chattered happily, and they all had a contest to see who had the most hot dog pieces in their mac and cheese. Ross dared her to eat some salad, and she dared him to eat some applesauce, and Ross got to watch from under his eyelashes as Tenner laughed without inhibition.
The difference between Tenner in front of his daughter, and Tenner on a baseball field or in Ross’s arms was like the difference between a raging tiger and a newborn kitten.
Tenner in front of Piper laughed a lot.
Tenner on the softball field would take your head off as soon as smile.
Ross couldn’t decide which guy he liked most—the guy on the softball field had promised that sexual ferocity they’d shared in that dark little corner. But this guy, laughing at his daughter, playing games with her food, talking about all the des
serts they could eat together—this guy was all of the good dads Ross had ever known. His father, his grandfather, his sister’s husband. Tenner was like part of the Good Dad Task Force, out to make the world a better place.
Ross washed dishes while Tenner and Piper cut up and mashed strawberries, adding a little bit of sugar for the perfect ice cream topping. When dessert was done, Piper wiped her mouth carefully with a napkin, then sat back against her chair.
“Bath time?” she asked.
“Bath time,” Tenner confirmed, using his own napkin to pat where she missed a spot. “I’ll be up in a minute to help you wash your hair.”
She beamed at him. “You’ll braid it nice and tight tomorrow, right? Because when you braid it, it stays for two days and Mom doesn’t have to do it on Tuesday.”
Right now, it was back in a ponytail. Ross wondered at how long it must take, Piper sitting between Tenner’s thighs, while he carefully wove the fine strands of dark hair into a perfect french braid.
“I always do,” Tenner promised. “Now go get clean and not stinky at all.”
She laughed and ran up the stairs, leaving Ross charmed, and, face it, just a bit gooey.
“God, she’s fun,” Ross said into the silence.
“She’s perfect.” Tenner shook himself then, like maybe he’d shown his soft center with that sentence and not with the entire last hour, where he’d been a charming father and everything that was right with the world. “I understand she’ll be a teenager tomorrow and there will be much hatred and rolling of the eyes.”
Ross chuckled. “Not if you stay in contact,” he said soberly. “I mean, there will be mood swings and some boundary pushing. I won’t lie. But most of the time, if you’re kind and generous and embrace the person they’re becoming, you can get through the rough spots.”
Tenner’s eyebrows went up. “Oh my God. Did you read a manual?”
Ross chuckled, feeling a little self-conscious, which was fairly new for him. “No! Empirical evidence, based on my own parents and watching my sisters raise their own kids. Pat and Desi are great examples, right?”
Tenner shrugged, conceding. “Well, Pat got me and Nina through the diaper years, so I’ll have to give you that. He got me through the divorce too. It was his idea to have Piper pick furniture for my house so she’d feel comfortable.”
