by Liz Crowe
Hannah tossed her keys and purse on the small dining room table. “None of your business, Mom.” Her head and heart pounded from too much alcohol and stress. The last thing she needed on the planet was her mother nagging at her.
“I had no idea if you were alive or dead,” the woman’s voice rose.
Hannah turned slowly, crossing her arms over her chest. She wanted nothing more than an hour-long shower, a gallon of water, and a three-hour nap. But she had a ton of work to do, assigning values to her new marketing graph system and squaring it with the point of sale computer they’d just set up in the pub. “Mom, I am twenty seven years old. I don’t have to report in to you.”
“Young lady do not take that tone with me. I’m your mother and I deserve respect.”
“Yeah, Mom. Sure. Fine. So, here is what happened. I picked up Jamie Donovan, the five-year-old son of Ian, who is part owner and head brewer where I work—remember? The brewery? Because I knew he was running late and we had a beer school session that night. So we ate dinner together, I learned about beer, we drank too much, then he fucked my brains out until we passed out. And now I need a shower. Okay?” She stomped away, leaving her mother open mouthed with shock.
“Honey! You had a date! Congratulations!”
Hannah bit back a retort and slammed her bedroom door and leaned on it, useless, girlie tears slipping from her eyes before she willed them to stop. Resolute, she pulled her phone from her pocket and sent Ian a text:
“Thanks for the fun time, but we shouldn’t do that again. Okay?”
She hit send before she lost her nerve.
Ian stood at the kitchen window and watched her dash for the car. He groaned and looked down at the sink. God damn it, Donovan, you’ve scared her off. You and your fucking horny self went too far too fast and now what? No more friend. Jesus.
He swallowed hard as she struggled and cursed and dropped her keys. His gaze took in the pleasant curve of her jeans-covered ass. And now that he’d had a taste of that, he knew he had to have more. She was amazing, sweet and juicy and as he tried to justify how he’d get back between her legs again, his phone rang. It was Nick.
He ignored it, and his pounding heart beat and went to find Jamie. “Let’s go pal. I’m taking us out to breakfast!”
“MacDonald’s!” Jamie squealed.
“No, IHop!” Ian matched his tone.
“Yay! I love you daddy!” the boy bounced up and down on the couch. Ian caught him in mid jump and ran down the hallway with him, wondering just how much he’d screwed everything up with one, amazing, unforgettable night.
Chapter Eighteen
By the time he’d wrestled Jamie into clothes Nick had called again so Ian gave up trying to ignore him and hit redial.
“Hey, uh, sorry to bother you. I need to talk about something.” The other man’s voice was low, and it set off a cacophony of memory in Ian’s still slightly hung over brain. It was a warm day for early December so he left his and Jamie’s jackets lying on the bench by the back door.
He frowned, trying to shove the vision of Nick’s incredible physical presence out of his head. He grabbed his keys and opened the kitchen door so Jamie could run out to the car and climb up in his car seat. The whole thing with Hannah had him tied up in knots for some reason, even after the monster orgasm, which usually set him on an even keel for a day or two. “Sure. You okay? I mean….”
“Yeah, but Alyssa isn’t.”
“The baby is….” Ian slid behind the wheel and started the car.
“Daddy! No talk and drive! Dangerous!” His son’s voice made the rapidly developing headache worse. The silence on the other end of the phone drifted on a while. Ian sat, keeping the car in park.
“Sorry, I’m interrupting.” Nick finally said. “And the baby is fine as far as I know.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. We’re going out for breakfast anyway.” His gut turned over at the thought of seeing Nick right now. “Give me a few minutes.”
He made the trip from his house in Plymouth over near downtown Ann Arbor then sat in front of the house where he’d had his world rocked so hard, on so many levels. He tried to get up his nerve to get out, gripping the steering wheel. “Daddy. This isn’t IHop.” Jamie piped up helpfully after waking from a car ride-induced nap.
“Yeah, I know buddy. It’s a friend’s house. Can we go in a minute? I just need to talk to him about Uncle Gavin.”
“Okey-dokey.” The boy agreed, and Ian hauled him out of the safety seat and set him on the sidewalk. Nick stepped out of his house then, Brutus by his side as always. The sun slanted across the porch, catching the gold in the man’s newly grown out hair. Ian sucked in a breath at the sight of him, barefoot and dressed in dark jeans and a Marine corps T-shirt that hugged his newly recovering muscles. “Dog!” Jamie screeched after getting one look at the huge creature and racing up the sidewalk to the steps.
“Jamie! Stop!” Ian ran after him, terror in his throat at the thought of Brutus’ potential reaction to the boy-shaped torpedo headed right for him.
But the dog sat, calm and still as a rock, letting Jamie practically climb up on his head, as he talked a mile a minute. Ian stood a few steps down and watched. Nick seemed more nervous than the dog, flinching at one point when Jamie touched his hand.
“Hey, mister, can I walk your dog? I’m a good dog walker!”
Alarmed when the kid started climbing up Nick’s arm as if the man were a jungle gym Ian started to speak. But Nick merely bent his elbow and Jamie swung from it still patting Brutus’ head. “No, son. Brutus has to stay with Nick. That’s his job.”
“Why?” Ian recognized the stubborn edge that crept into his son’s voice and braced for a scene.
Nick smiled then, and Ian sensed the man relax. He kept his arm bent, making Jamie giggle when he raised it and brought the kid to eye level with his own sightless ones. “He’s my eyes. I need him to help me see.”
To Ian’s utter horror, Jamie reached out and snatched Nick’s Ray bans off. “No, don’t!” He grabbed the sunglasses and tried to hand them back to Nick. But the other man kept his smile fixed in place, and Ian suddenly realized how flawless his face was even with the fading burn marks. It seemed odd that such a pair of striking, beautiful eyes would simply no longer do the work they were designed to do.
“It’s okay.” Nick said, palming the glasses. He hunkered down next to the dog, and Jamie dropped down beside him. He put a large hand on Brutus’ head, and Jamie mimicked him, as comfortable as Ian had ever seen him. “Hi, I’m Nick.” Jamie took the man’s hand and grinned, making Ian’s heart leap into his throat as it usually did at the sight of his son’s eager smile. “You’re Jamie, I’m guessing.” The boy nodded, seemingly mesmerized by Nick’s face. “So, Jamie, the deal is, I’m blind. I got hurt in the war. Brutus is with me all the time, no matter what. And he helps me do what I need to do so I can ….”
“What’s a war? Does he take baths with you?” Jamie interrupted reaching out to put his small hand on the fading pink scars that streaked across Nick’s forehead. “Do you need some Band-Aids? We have some am-biotic cream in the car don’t we, Daddy?”
Nick laughed. The sound was music to Ian’s ears. In all their intense time together, he didn’t think he’d ever seen Nick really smile or laugh without it being bitter or seductive. “No, I take showers. But he stands right outside the door waiting until I get out. And I had a lot of band aids once but I don’t anymore. Thanks for offering, though. And I’ll let your dad explain about war another time.”
“Wow. He’s a really smart dog.” Jamie looked at the giant animal with renewed interest crouching down and staring right into the Brutus’ eyes, his solemn face mere inches from the dog’s, which to his credit looked away, over at his master. “Can I walk him?” Brutus made a funny chuffing sound, as if asking the same thing of Nick.
Ian sighed and reached down to pull Jamie away. “Sorry. He’s a little single minded sometimes.”
“Like
his dad, I guess,” Nick got slowly to his feet, making Ian gulp. “Tell you what, let me sit over here in the chair, your dad and I will talk and you can walk him down to the corner and back.”
“Really?” Jamie jumped around, until Ian put a calming hand on his shoulder.
“You sure, Nick? He doesn’t have to…I know it’s important that he stay with you.”
“Nah, it’s okay. We have an understanding now. Hang on.” Nick turned and Brutus led him to a wicker chair. He sat, pulled the animal to him and seemed to have a whispered conversation while the dog looked at him with intense concentration. Ian was fascinated by the bond between them. “Okay, Jamie. He’s all yours for a while.” Jamie squealed with delight and grabbed Brutus’ lead. The dog’s tail whipped back and forth but he looked back at Nick as if asking “You sure about this boss?
Seeming to sense the animal’s hesitation Nick pointed, kept his voice firm. “Go. I’m fine.”
Then without another sound he let the small boy walk him down the steps and the sidewalk. “Amazing.” Ian said, watching the animal that had fifty pounds on his son walk alongside him while Jamie chattered the poor animal’s ear off. He looked back at Nick and bit back the urge to touch him. “So what’s this about Alyssa?”
“It’s all this wedding stress. She’s drained and she was over here yesterday crying for an hour over a fucking florist. My sister does not cry over flowers Ian. Are you getting any of this crap from Gavin?”
Ian ran a hand down his face. “Uh. No. I mean, I assumed the woman did all the fretting and details. I don’t think Gavin’s mentioned anything about the wedding other than asking me for a couple of bartenders for the reception.”
“I figured. Listen,” Nick leaned forward, putting their knees within touching distance. “Can you tell him that he needs to step in and either take over some of it or tell her to stop stressing over stupid shit like what color ribbons to put on the bouquets? Seriously. I’m worried about her. And I get the feeling she thinks he wants this giant, holiday themed bullshit event, and I have a hard time believing he does.”
Without thinking about it, Ian reached over and put his hand over Nick’s clenched fingers. He heard the other man’s sudden intake of breath and felt his own heartbeat speed up at the contact. The sudden impact of what was about to happen to their odd relationship configuration hit him between the eyes. “Sure,” he said, quietly. “I’ll talk to him. You look good. Feeling better?”
“Some, yeah. Working out again. Jake, my partner… from work, helps me with that.” He sat back, taking his hands out from under Ian’s.
“Oh. Well, that’s good.” Ian had a sudden vision of a giant, well formed “partner,” doing what he wanted to do to Nick right now. He shoved it away. “I mean. You know.”
“And yeah, he’s fucking me too. I know you want to ask.” Nick’s voice had taken on the familiar hard edge Ian remembered.
“None of my business,” Ian insisted, clutching his knees, the vision back and as clear as day. Nick kissing this Jake, letting him suck his cock, pleasure him the way Ian had.
“Lucky for him I haven’t beaten him up in my sleep I guess.” Nick’s voice got softer.
“Lucky for him,” Ian said, suddenly angry. “Okay, well, if that’s all, we should get going.” He stood but Nick reached for his hand, stopping him.
“Sorry. I’m working on not being such a bitter asshole. Or so I’m told. I don’t know why I told you that about Jake. It just sort of popped out.” He sighed, making Ian’s head pound harder. Nick leaned forward, resting his head against Ian’s leg. The movement was not sexual in the slightest, totally unlike their previous encounters but spoke of a connection Ian wanted more than anything. He reached down, allowing a split second of joy, touching Nick’s soft, blond hair. It was a sublime moment of comfortable dependence, because Ian wanted nothing more than to comfort, to be what Nick needed, so he would not require the amazing and no-doubt well-hung Jake in his life.
He looked out and saw Jamie still man-handling the huge dog up and down the sidewalk. He kept stroking Nick’s hair as the other man leaned into him for a few quiet minutes more. A bright, crystal clear vision of the gorgeous redheaded woman who’d rocked his world the night before shot through his memory, making him shiver.
He sat back down across from Nick and gripped his hands. “Don’t cut me out of your life, okay? I know we had some intense moments but ….”
“Well, we are going to be uncles to the same kid in a few months.” Nick smiled that sweet, somewhat innocent smile again, and Ian’s heart leapt into his throat at the sight. “So I guess we—“
Ian leaned in and touched his lips to Nick’s rough cheek, startling them both. “I want to be your friend Nicholas, if you will let me. But that means not being flippant and bitter all the time. Let me in some – know how you’re really feeling.”
Nick’s smile turned more ironic than Ian cared to see. “Friends, eh?” He tried to lean away but Ian held on to him.
“Yes, Nick. Friends. You keep doing what you’re doing with Jake. Let’s keep our relationship … on a different level. Because I think you need a friend more than you need another fuck buddy. Although you can trust me when I tell you,” he tightened his grip on Nick’s hands. The other man’s breath quickened. “I would gladly be that for you too. But I don’t really think it’s good for you or for me.” He let go, reluctantly and leaned back.
Nick lifted his glasses up, and Ian was struck all over again by the angular structure of his face, and the deep green of his eyes. “I want to see you.” Nick said, softly. “So badly.”
“You can,” Ian said, as he took Nick’s hand and held it to his own cheek. “Feel me, hear me, that’s what you do.” Nick leaned close, ran his thumb across Ian’s lips.
Just as he was about to ruin everything by kissing the guy, his son shrieked, making both men jump to their feet. Ian heard Jamie giggling like a maniac, spotted him lying on his back on the grass while Brutus nuzzled and licked him all over. He sighed, and put an arm around Nick’s shoulders—a friendly arm—something to comfort a man who needed it.
“He’s a good kid. You’re lucky.” Nick said, keeping a little distance between them.
Ian kept watching the boy, his miniature if you looked at photos of him at that age, only nearly two pant sizes too small. “Yeah, he’s pretty amazing, considering his mother was a meth addict by the time he was born.”
“Wow, that’s tough. Is he…okay? I mean, other than being kind of small?”
“How do you know he’s small?”
“Alyssa told me.”
“Oh, right. Well, against all odds it seems, he’s normal, although he will never play forward on the basketball team. I mean, I’m nearly six-five but his doc tells me he’ll only be about five eight or so at most. But he’s healthy as a horse. Speaking of, I gotta feed him soon or he’ll turn into one of those gremlin things when they go bad, you know?”
Nick laughed and the sound made Ian’s entire body prickle with something he refused to identify. He put a soft kiss against Nick’s cheek and stepped away, then turned at the last moment, allowed himself a long look at Nick’s firm jaw and firm military torso that hid a truly fractured soul. “Want to join us? IHop? Death by pancakes?”
Nick tilted his head and held out a hand so Brutus could slide back under it. Just when Ian was sure he’d say yes, he spoke. “No, thanks. You guys have a good time. And be sure and talk to Gavin, okay?” He turned and let the dog guide him back in without another word, leaving Ian with his whirling, confused thoughts.
He got Jamie strapped back into his seat and looked down on the console to see Hannah’s text. He frowned and stared at it so long trying to process what it meant that he jumped when Jamie kicked the back of seat. “Hungry daddy! Pancakes!”
He shut his eyes and visions of her amazing sexy perfection floated through his brain. Her lips, laugh, voice, all of it…and that incredible way she rolled her hips and flexed around him…of
that amazing moment when he watched her with his son…. He ran a shaking hand down his face. Of all the split second decisions he’d made including fucking Jamie’s mother enough to create the small human currently beating his heels against Ian’s seat, he was close to regretting the one he made last night, when he kissed her the first time and not because it was a bad encounter but because it was so right. And now, he had told Nick he wanted to “be friends.” God, he had shitty timing.
“Hang on son. Hang on. I promise, we are going straight there. Just give me a minute.” He tapped out a reply to her:
“No. Thank you. I had a great time. And yes, you’re right. I promise to keep it all business from now on.”
“Holy shit, yes! Oh my, god…Ian.” Hannah shuddered, gripped his shoulders as he held her up against the wall of his pitch-black office. The smell of their lust combined with the usual brewery odors of malt and yeast, made him groan and bury his nose in her neck. He licked the sweat, loving her taste, feel, and her words in his ear.
Three days after their first encounter, they’d hosted a beer dinner and kept their distance for the entire time, the chilly air between them nearly visible. After she’d bid the last of the one hundred people good bye he’d escaped back to his office and tried to get his bearings. She looked like a million bucks, in a sleek, green, simple dress, that thick, amazing hair cascading around her freckled shoulders. He’d nursed a near hard on the entire two hours, and it was pissing him off completely. He sat, staring at emails without seeing them until he figured she’d left. When her hand touched his shoulder like he somehow knew it would, he jumped up, grabbed her arms and pinned her against the wall. He shoved his tongue between her lips and yanked her skirt up without a word and she offered no protest. If anything she ripped at his clothes with even more gusto.
“Come,” he commanded, whispering in her ear. He shifted her legs up higher around his waist, giving him an even better angle. She pulsed around him as she threaded her fingers in his hair.
