by SJD Peterson
Not sure how much longer I can take this. Joshua ran his hands over his face, then through his sweat-dampened hair. His nerves were shot. He hated the constant ups and downs. Hated that he couldn’t trust in something good. Hated that he wanted those good things more than anything, yet dreaded them. Most of all, he hated that his head was so fucked-up.
“Good morning, boy.”
Joshua snapped his head up, met Nash’s gaze, then quickly lowered his eyes. “Good morning, Sir.” Joshua cringed at the sound of his weak voice. He pushed his morose thoughts down as best as he could. “How did you sleep?” This time his voice was stronger. He picked up the tray on the bedside table, and when Nash sat up to lean against the headboard, Joshua set the tray on his lap.
“I slept like a champ. I always sleep better curled up next to you.” Nash picked up his stainless-steel mug, removed the lid, and took a small sip of the steaming brew. “I think we’ll make that a permanent rule.”
“What’s that, Sir?”
“That you have to keep that warm body of yours close to me while I sleep.” Nash winked, then took another sip.
“Yes, Sir.” Joshua went to his feet, keeping his head low, and avoided looking at Nash. His flight response kicked in, and suddenly he needed to move, to get out of Nash’s presence. “Breakfast will be ready shortly. Would you like to eat it here or in the dining room?”
Nash cocked his head. “No comment on my new rule?”
“Whatever pleases you, Sir,” he replied robotically. Sleeping in Nash’s bed was something Joshua had wanted. Hell, how many times had he lain in his own bed, bitching and fuming for being denied? He didn’t understand why it bothered him now that he was getting what he wanted, but it did.
“What would please me is to have my warm and happy sub from last night back.” Nash set his coffee down, then placed the tray on the side table. He stretched out and lifted the covers, exposing his naked body. “Come back to bed.”
Joshua bit his lip and glanced at the door. “What about breakfast?”
“Is there any concern it will burn the house down?”
Joshua didn’t understand his hesitation. Why was he considering lying about breakfast just so he could flee the room? It made no sense. Nash was staring at him expectantly, holding the covers up, and Joshua didn’t have time to figure out what he was feeling.
He couldn’t push the lie past his lips so he simply said, “No, Sir.”
“Is there another reason I’m sitting here getting a chill?”
Joshua started to apologize, but again he had no idea why. God he was a frickin’ mess. Without another word, he crawled onto the bed to lie next to Nash.
Nash dropped the sheet over them, then wrapped his arms around Joshua, kissed the top of his head. “Now how about that happy?”
“Sorry, I’m kind of distracted this morning.”
“Care to share what’s going on in this pretty head of yours?” Nash kissed Joshua’s forehead.
Joshua wasn’t even sure what he was feeling, so there was no way he could explain it to Nash even if he wanted to. And part of him did, a big part, because somewhere deep inside, he held on to the hope that Nash could fix whatever was broken inside him. He lay there with Nash, holding him. The random patterns Nash was making on Joshua’s arm with the tip of his finger were soothing. Yet Joshua tensed further. It was like he was a beat-up tin toy and the key that made him work was being wound tighter and tighter and tighter. Eventually the tension would become too much and he’d either break apart or quietly and simply stop working. He knew Nash was waiting for him to say something, but he couldn’t. The key just kept turning.
“Does it have something to do with your session with Dr. Hobson?” Nash prompted.
The key turned again, tighter.
“Why would you think that?” Joshua asked. He instantly regretted saying anything.
Nash slid his palm over Joshua’s jaw, urging him to turn his head and look at him. Joshua obeyed but was unable to meet Nash’s gaze. It didn’t matter that Joshua wanted to avoid the conversation because Nash kept talking.
“You had a good time with Denny, and you and I had a great night. It’s the only thing I can think of that would put you in such a morose mood.”
Joshua unconsciously pushed into the warm touch even as he mentally kicked himself for not hiding his emotions better. He didn’t want to talk about what happened with Dr. Hobson again—the first time had been hard enough.
“You witnessed the aftermath. You can’t possibly want to see me blubbering and sobbing again,” Joshua muttered.
“I don’t like seeing you cry, but I’d rather you share your tears with me than keep it all bottled up inside.” Nash tapped gently on Joshua’s chest over his heart. “In there it festers and grows until it will eat you alive.”
“Can’t it do the same thing if I let it out?”
“It can absolutely cause you pain. I won’t deny that. But sometimes it’s a little easier to let someone else help you carry the burden.”
Joshua laughed bitterly. “I wouldn’t wish this fucking load on my worst enemy.” He wished he could just dump the whole damn thing. Problem was, it was his mind that was the fucking burden.
“Don’t wish it on your enemy. Share it with someone who loves you. Because, Joshua?”
Joshua took a deep breath and summoned up the courage to meet Nash’s gaze. “Yeah?”
“I do love you.”
Joshua’s mouth fell open, and he gawked at Nash. No one had ever told him they loved him before and he meant no one. Not his mother, his father—or a father figure—not a single person in his family or the families he’d lived with. He wasn’t even sure he’d ever dreamed about someone saying those three words to him. Hearing Nash say them did funny things to Joshua’s belly, but his head, his fucked-up mind didn’t trust the words. So rather than deal with that fucking mess, he moved to one that made sense and surprisingly was less scary.
“Dr. Hobson and I were talking about my childhood. I don’t like remembering, but he kept pushing me and pushing me. Made me so fucking mad that I started screaming at him when he said he understood. That was some major bullshit right there, because I asked him if he’d grown up with a crack whore for a mother. Or if he’d ever been rescued from one shit hole only to be thrown into another. You know what? He couldn’t say he had, so I seriously fucking doubt he”—Joshua made the universal symbols for quotation marks with his fingers—“understood.”
“And I take it you have?” Nash asked calmly.
“Hell yeah! That was the norm in my world. Looking back, I must ask myself if the protective service agencies do any screening of the foster parents. If they did, they did a really crappy job. Either that or they just didn’t care. I mean, seriously, some of my foster moms were as bad as the bitch they took me from.” Joshua pursed his lips, the injustice the state could inflict on a helpless kid was mind-blowingly wrong. “I don’t know, but I’d think if they weren’t going to help the kid, why even bother removing them from their home. Sure, their lives may suck, mine sure did, but at least it was a familiar suckiness. Removing them from a home, telling a kid they were there to help, that it was for their own good, that it would be better, only to drop them off with a sadistic crackhead was just fucking cruel.”
“I’ve heard a lot of horror stories. I’m sorry you had to go through that.”
“Don’t pity me,” Joshua spat. Nash’s face fell, and Joshua instantly regretted his tone. “I’m sorry, but I hate that reaction almost as much as the situation.”
“I don’t pity you, Joshua. Yes, I feel bad that you, or anyone for that matter, would have to go through such a horrible ordeal. I’m also happy for anyone who has a good story to tell, and I have heard a few from people who grew up in foster care. I suppose it’s like any parent, some are good and some just suck.”
“You can say that again,” Joshua agreed. “Anyway, that’s what the conversation with the head shrink was about. He got me to tal
k about my past. It pissed me off, made me cry, then drained me. And quite honestly, Sir, I don’t think I can go through it again this morning. Besides, you already know more than Dr. Hobson. You know the results.”
“Do you mean the cutting?”
“Yeah.”
“You haven’t told Dr. Hobson?” Nash asked, sounding alarmed.
“He knows I used to cut myself, but I haven’t gotten to the whole exploring thing yet. I’m sure that’s on his list of to-dos with me.”
“I’ve known him for a very long time,” Nash explained. “I trust him, or I wouldn’t have sent you to see him. Give it time. I know it has and will continue to help.”
In Joshua’s opinion, the jury was still out on whether therapy could help, but he wasn’t about to get into it at the moment. Instead he nodded. His belly growled loudly, saving him from having to deal with any more memories. “All this talk has apparently worked up an appetite. How about you, Sir? You hungry yet?”
“Now that you mention it,” Nash replied with a wink. “I’m not properly caffeinated yet either.”
Joshua scrambled from the bed and grabbed Nash’s mug, effectively ending any more conversation. He handed it to Nash. “Here, caffeinate, and I’ll start breakfast.”
Nash took the mug and smiled. “Thanks, I’ll see you in the kitchen in a moment.”
“Yes, Sir.” Joshua bolted from the room before Nash could change his mind. Nash wouldn’t drop that subject, that much Joshua was sure of. However, he’d take the reprieve, no matter how brief it might be.
JOSHUA EXITED the room, and only when his boy disappeared down the hall did Nash let out a long breath. He was glad Joshua had shared a little of his past with him. Joshua was like a sweet onion, multiple layers with each one hinting at what was beneath but unable to be fully appreciated until another was peeled away. He was learning about him and how to deal with the multifaceted gem that was Joshua. Nash had never dealt with someone so complex. Dealing with Joshua’s issue was trial and error, like a shit-ton of error, but each little breakthrough was worth all the bad.
Nash finished his coffee, then grabbed the carafe and poured a second cup. Joshua was moving around the kitchen. Nash couldn’t help but smile. He had no crazy notion that everything would suddenly be sunshine and rainbows. Still, he couldn’t help but be giddy. Joshua was talking to him, trusting him with his secrets, and with each one revealed, they were getting stronger, closer. His cell phone beeped, and he retrieved it from the bedside table. He read the display and his smile grew even wider. His calendar notification reminded him it was Joshua’s birthday tomorrow. He knew exactly what to get and how to celebrate. Surprisingly, it had nothing to do with sex. Although if everything went as well as Nash suspected it would, he’d have a warm, happy Joshua sharing his bed again tomorrow night.
Nash set his phone down, then threw off the covers. He slid from the bed, took another big gulp of his coffee, and started to set it on the tray, but then took another drink, and another. He refilled it again and headed out to join Joshua.
The scent of maple syrup and cinnamon greeted Nash. He moved up behind Joshua, who was standing at the stove, and looked over his shoulder. “Mmm, I love french toast.”
Joshua turned his head and smiled. “Yeah, me too. I had a craving for something sweet.”
“I always have a craving for something sweet,” Nash replied. He pressed a soft kiss to Joshua’s lips, then slid his mouth along Joshua’s jaw to the sensitive spot beneath his ear. “Very sweet,” he murmured before nipping and sucking Joshua’s skin.
“I don’t know. I think french toast may taste a little better. I’m sweaty and salty, not sweet.”
“Are you arguing with me?” Nash asked against Joshua’s neck.
“I wouldn’t do that. Just disagreeing with your taste, Sir.”
“We’ll just have to agree to disagree on this one.” Nash chuckled. He placed one last kiss to Joshua’s neck, then reluctantly stepped back. Getting all touchy-feely while standing next to a hot stove wasn’t the best of ideas. He turned and leaned against the counter, out of Joshua’s way as he made breakfast and Nash finished another cup of coffee.
By the time the table was set and the plates heaping with french toast and ham, Nash was sufficiently caffeinated. He took a seat, laid his napkin in his lap, and picked up his fork.
“This looks and smells delicious.” He took a bite, enjoying the sweet taste of maple, cinnamon, and powdered sugar. “Oh damn, it tastes even better!”
Joshua picked up his fork and smiled. “Better than me?”
“Close, but no,” Nash assured him and then took another bite. Joshua didn’t say another word. He just shook his head. Nash could tell by the expression on Joshua’s face that he thought Nash was nuts. But that was okay. He was nuts—for Joshua.
“I have some work to catch up on this morning, so you’ll have plenty of time to get your chores done,” Nash informed him. “I was thinking this afternoon we’d work out in the yard. It’s going to be a gorgeous day.”
“Okay.”
“Do you have any experience with gardening?”
“Not really, Sir. I can mow, rake, and the basics, but I don’t really know much about plants.”
“I don’t have much of a green thumb either, so we have that in common too. Good thing everything in the yard is pretty much minimal maintenance. I wonder how hard it would be to try our hand with something simple, like a small herb garden.”
“I don’t know, Sir.”
Nash took another bite of his breakfast. It really was quite good. He washed it down with a sip of orange juice before continuing. “Do you like to cook with fresh herbs?”
“Sure. They are way better than the dried and crushed variety you get out of a bottle.”
“Cool, then I think it’s worth a shot. Of course, it’s completely self-serving. Better herbs means better meals for me,” Nash said with a wide grin. “I’ll look into what we’ll need, but first”—He stabbed another big bite of french toast and held it up—“I’m going to finish this amazing breakfast.”
Joshua was becoming quite proficient around the house, no doubt his chores becoming mindless, which left too much time for his mind to wander. Growing and maintaining a garden, in combination with the gift Nash intended on getting for Joshua, should keep his boy’s hands and mind occupied. A couple of good things for Joshua to focus on during the day, keeping him happy. As time went on, Nash hoped Joshua’s good thoughts would outweigh the bad ones every day.
Chapter Fifteen
THE CELEBRATION of Joshua’s birth wasn’t the only thing that had Nash excited, but he was eager about the gift. It wasn’t only that he would be the one giving it to his boy. Nash had also been considering getting one for himself for years. He pulled into the lot of the local Humane Society and cut the engine.
Joshua was staring out the windshield with wide eyes at the building. “I thought you were taking me shopping?”
“I am.”
“But this is a dog shelter.”
“I’m quite aware of that. I remember you telling me you always wanted a dog but were never settled in one place long enough.” Nash took Joshua’s hand and brought it to his mouth, placing a soft kiss to Joshua’s knuckles. “You’re settled now. I figured this was the perfect place to add to our family by rescuing a pet who is without one.”
Joshua continued to stare with an awestruck expression. Then suddenly he undid his seat belt and lunged at Nash. He wrapped his arms around Nash’s neck and peppered him with kisses.
“You are the greatest human ever!”
Nash laughed at the onslaught of kisses. He’d known Joshua would be excited, but the sheer outpouring of joy from his boy made any reservations about sleepless nights and nightmares in potty training well worth any inconveniences.
“Okay, okay.” Nash snorted. “How about we check and see if they even have a puppy you want first, huh?”
“Yes, Sir.” Joshua kissed Nash one last t
ime, then opened his door and stepped out.
Nash hurried to catch up. He wasn’t even going to correct his boy for not walking at heel. This was Joshua’s day, and he could do whatever he wanted—within reason—without repercussions. Nash opened the door and held it for Joshua.
The Humane Society was bustling with activity. Several men, women, and children crowded the various glass-walled rooms. The first had a sign over the entrance that read: Cat Castle. Nash avoided that room. He liked cats just fine but never had any interest in owning one. The thought of an animal shitting in his house for the entirety of its life as well as shredded curtains and furniture simply didn’t appeal to him. Plus, given Nash’s dominant nature, he couldn’t see himself with a pet that refused to follow rules and always had to be the boss. That was his job. He would be the only alpha in his home. Period.
Nash steered Joshua to the room to their left called Puppy Palace. Several cages stacked two high lined the walls. In the center, a brightly painted concrete wall about thirty-six inches high split the room into six sections, each containing a puppy, all of various ages and breeds. He stopped next to one of the cages with a small black-and-white puppy with big floppy ears. The pup reached its paw out through the wire slots and barked.
“Well, aren’t you just the cutest thing ever,” Nash said. He shook the paw, then slid his fingers into the cage only to jerk them back when sharp puppy teeth clamped down on his flesh. “Ow! Naughty too. I like that.” Nash chuckled. He looked over his shoulder toward Joshua. “How about this guy? He’s cute.”
Joshua came over, his gaze going to the puppy, then the card clipped to the cage. “It’s a she, not a he, and she won’t be cute and small for long. She’ll be a beast. Probably close to a hundred pounds.”
“Umm, yeah. That’s a bit large.”
Joshua walked away, studying each pup inside the cages. Nash followed him. “Do you have any idea what kind of dog you’d like?”
