by Bru Baker
Brandon laughed again, his eyes shining as he looked at Crawford on the screen. Past the puppy fat that was melting away, Mateus could see that Brandon had the same strong jaw and nose that Crawford did. He was going to be a looker when he was older, just like his uncle. He’d bet that Adam was attractive too. The Hargrave genes must be pretty good.
Brandon’s laughter died away, leaving the hint of a fond smile. “I’m just glad he’s not going to be alone when we leave for Japan.”
“Hey now, I’ll have Bub,” Crawford said.
“Yeah, and who’s going to watch him when you travel? You’re going to have to put him up in one of those fancy pet hotels or something. Does Chatham-Thompson have any of those? Maybe you’d get a discount.”
“Gotta be cheaper than your rates, kid.”
Brandon pursed his lips. “You pay me a pittance.”
“I pay you plenty. Good word, though. SAT tutoring coming along?”
Brandon huffed out a sigh. “I tried to convince Dad that I didn’t need to take them now that we’ll be living in Japan, but that was a no-go.”
“You’ll do fine. And you do need to take them to get into college so you can get a good job.”
Brandon’s gaze shifted to Mateus. “Maybe I could work for your brother.”
Mateus grinned. “Well, I have a masters in botany, and Duarte has his MBA. So I’d say you’d better make college plan A.”
Brandon groaned. “I’m not sure I like you anymore.”
Crawford snorted. “You’d better get to bed, kid. You have school in the morning. Give Bub an ear scratch for me, and tell your mom and dad I said hi.”
“Will do. Are you going to be back before we go?”
Crawford looked over at Mateus and back at the screen. “I’ll definitely be there, I just don’t know for how long. Mateus and I have some things we have to sort out here, but I wouldn’t miss your good-bye party. I promise.”
Brandon bit his lip again. “You’re just worried I’ll take Beelzebub with me.”
Crawford put a hand over his heart. “You caught me. Night, Bran. Love you lots, kiddo.”
“Love you too, Uncle Crawford. Bye, Mateus.”
Crawford dropped the phone on the bed when Brandon hung up and leaned heavily against the headboard, closing his eyes.
Mateus wanted to reach out and hug him, but he wasn’t sure it would be welcome. “You’re going to miss him a lot when he leaves.”
“Tons. But we’ll skype, and apparently he’s spending the whole summer with me, so we’ll get by.” He opened his eyes and blew out a breath. “We’ll have to work out where we’re going to be for the home visits and how we’re going to handle that, but I’m beat. Would you mind if we talked about it tomorrow?”
Mateus couldn’t agree more. Running from a problem never solved anything, but postponing it wouldn’t hurt.
“I don’t mind.” He looked down at the bed. “You can take the bed. I’ll sleep on the love seat.”
It was lumpy and it didn’t pull out, but Crawford had taken the couch in Vancouver, so he deserved the bed here. It was probably only marginally more comfortable, anyway.
Crawford’s hand shot out and closed around Mateus’s wrist when he started to slide off the bed.
“We can share. There’s no way a grown man can fit on that tiny sofa, and this bed is plenty big.”
Mateus’s pulse kicked up a notch at the thought of sleeping with Crawford, but from the exhausted slump to Crawford’s shoulders, he could tell it was an invitation literally to do just that—sleep.
He should’ve said no.
Chapter Fourteen
CRAWFORD woke up on the wrong side of the bed—literally. He’d started out on his side, facing away from Mateus with as much space as physically possible between them. Crawford’s muscles ached from keeping them tense as he clung to the edge of the mattress for the sleepless first half of the night.
Sometime during the night, though, his body had given up the fight and he’d drifted off, and now Crawford was face-to-face with a sleeping Mateus. Their legs were tangled, and Mateus had an arm slung over Crawford’s shoulder. His fingers brushed against Crawford’s back with each breath Crawford took, and that casual contact and the tickle of Mateus’s leg hair against his own had Crawford going from groggy to wide-awake in record time.
Mateus looked peaceful and relaxed, and Crawford wished they could just stay in the crappy hotel bed forever. Thoughts like that were dangerous. He clearly needed to get up and put some distance between them.
Crawford swallowed and pushed his way gently out of Mateus’s light hold. He rolled to the side and climbed out of the bed carefully, though not much could be done about the creak and pop of the flimsy bed’s springs. It was a relief to make it to the bathroom where he couldn’t see Mateus’s stupidly perfect sleeping face. All the walls Crawford had tried to build had come crashing down the moment he’d woken up close enough to count Mateus’s eyelashes. There was nothing casual about waking up with their breath mingling and their bodies intertwined, no matter how innocent the pose was.
It was exactly the kind of memory Crawford didn’t want to have. It felt proprietary, when nothing could be further from the truth. He didn’t have any claim to Mateus, and he couldn’t do anything about the fact that Mateus undeniably had claim over him, despite Crawford’s best efforts to keep his distance.
It was ridiculously early, but Crawford didn’t like his chances of getting back to sleep. He slipped into the shower to wash away the aches and cricks from his night of restless sleep. If Mateus was still asleep when he got out, he’d run down to the Starbucks for breakfast. If they got moving early, they could be first in line to see Officer Suarez. As much as he dreaded the end of his time with Mateus, Crawford needed a plan. He hated not knowing what was going to happen next, and right now everything was a big question mark.
The cheap hotel towels were scratchy and thin, but they smelled reassuringly of bleach, which at least meant they were clean. He’d been in and out of a lot of hotel rooms in his career, and even though this one wasn’t fancy, it was well-kept and sanitary. That was more than he could say for a lot of the high-end places he’d been, so he tried to tamp down on his inner snob as he wrapped the towel around his waist and stepped out into the room. It had been important to Mateus that he be the one to pay for the room, and Crawford respected that too much to complain about the rough sheets and lack of amenities.
Mateus was already sitting up, the blankets pooled around his waist and his hair sleep-mussed and tangled.
“It’s early,” he murmured, his voice hoarse.
“You can go back to sleep. I was going to run out and get us something to eat.”
Mateus perked up. “And some coffee?”
“No, I thought this might be a good day to quit caffeine cold-turkey.”
Mateus groaned and fell back onto the mattress. “It’s early.”
Crawford snickered. Mateus was definitely not a morning person. Somehow he managed to make it endearing. “You’ve said. Go back to sleep. I’ll wake you up when I’m back with breakfast.”
CRAWFORD clutched his second latte of the day like a lifeline, still shell-shocked over their meeting with Officer Suarez. Surprisingly, he and Mateus had done well on the initial questionnaire. It helped that neither of them had a large family, so those questions were easy. It had been a lot less Newlywed Game and a lot more standardized test than Crawford had envisioned.
Maybe if they’d blown that part of it Officer Suarez wouldn’t have been so eager to set up a home visit immediately.
“Should we have told her we were going to be at your place in LA? Maybe that would have delayed things. She’d have to find someone down there to do the home visit then, right? We could call her back—”
Crawford shook his head. “My place is—well, it’s kind of empty. I haven’t really gotten around to doing any decorating, since I’m rarely there.”
“We have two weeks. You could g
o back to LA and come up a day or two before the visit,” Mateus offered weakly.
He didn’t sound convinced, even though it was his idea. “That’s what I figured we’d do. Is that a problem?”
Mateus winced. “Not exactly? Except. Yes. My brother, he’s—” He broke off and stared down at the table for a moment. “He’s antiquado. Old-school. Marriage is sacred to him, and he’d be angry we were dishonoring the rite the way we are.
“Duarte is progressive on his view of sexuality, but he’s as Catholic as can be when it comes to marriage being a sacrament. He’d never forgive me for marrying you just for a green card. We’re going to have to lie to him.”
Crawford found himself grinning at the prospect of continuing their sham of a marriage, which was bizarre. He just couldn’t help but feel at ease around Mateus, though, and the thought of meeting his family and seeing the orchard Mateus had talked so glowingly about was undeniably appealing. Even if it did mean forcing Mateus to be dishonest with them.
“I—does that bother you? We’re too far in to go back, but we could come clean to the immigration agent and hire a lawyer for us. We could fight the deportation.”
Mateus laughed. “Crawford. Really? There’s no chance of that working. That’s the whole point of the home visit. If they found out our marriage was fake, I’d be arrested on the spot. So would you.”
“Well, we could keep it up for the visit, and then you could tell your brother we fought and are taking some time apart. Have a long separation and then divorce after he’s able to hire you, and if immigration had a problem, you could get a work visa then.”
Mateus pursed his lips. “There is absolutely zero chance of my family buying that story. They know me too well. You’re exactly my type. I wouldn’t let someone like you just walk away, especially not if I’d loved you enough to marry you.”
Crawford’s throat tightened. “You’d fight for me?”
Mateus seemed to realize what he’d said a second later. His face crumpled with concern, and he reached out and grabbed Crawford’s free hand. “Without question. You’re an amazing man, Crawford. And Davis was an asshole for leaving you. I’m sorry.”
Crawford looked away, uncomfortable with the swell of emotion he felt. He took another drink of the latte he hadn’t really even wanted, but had ordered just to have something to hold.
“Officer Suarez is coming in almost two weeks. I need to see Brandon before he leaves, and I want to get back to spend time with Adam before he goes, but I can do that afterward.” He looked up at Mateus. “Man, I wish there was time to bring Brandon to the orchard. I really think he’d love it.”
“He’s welcome. Your whole family is. Duarte and Bree would be thrilled to have them.”
Crawford shook his head with a frown. “There’s too much to do before they leave. I promised him I’d come back for his party, but I can fly down for just a day. It’s this weekend, so it won’t interfere with the home visit.”
“Even if it did, Brandon’s more important. You need to be there for that.”
“I didn’t exactly pack for manual labor, so maybe we could pick up some things while we’re in the city? Just to tide me over till I can get home this weekend and get some fresh clothes.”
Mateus’s eyes widened. “I’m not bringing you to the orchard to work!”
“Why the hell not? From what you’ve said, there’s plenty to do. I’ve already taken the week off, and depending on what comes up I may take next week off too. I’m not claiming to have a green thumb, but I can be a good grunt. Surely there’s some unskilled labor for me.”
“We can find something for you, but it’s really not necessary.”
“I insist. Maybe we can stop and grab some basics on the way to Beverly.”
Mateus released his hand and sat back. “I can call Duarte and have him come get us. It’s about two hours to Beverly.”
“We could rent a car—”
Mateus glared at him. “No. There’s nowhere to return one there, anyway. We’ll have Duarte come. Bree will probably want to come with him and do a little shopping here. It’s fine.”
Crawford bumped his knee against Mateus’s under the table. “You could do some of that sightseeing you talked about. It would be a shame to waste a day in Seattle.”
Crawford would have preferred to rent a car to have out at the orchard, but he didn’t want to press the issue. The beaming smile he got from Mateus was worth a day of wandering around the city.
Mateus’s grin faded when Crawford’s phone rang on the table between them. Davis’s name was on the caller ID. “You should get that. Work is more important than letting me play tourist. I’ll call Duarte and figure out a plan for where they can pick us up. I can’t apologize enough for how complicated this has become. I never wanted you to be this put out.”
Crawford sent the call to voice mail. “I’m on vacation this week. There’s nothing that could be happening that’s so important it can’t wait a few hours while we go see Pike Place Market and maybe feed some sea lions.” He was surprised to find he actually meant it.
“As for this being complicated—life is complicated. And it was my lie that got us into this, so if it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine. But I’d do it again with no regrets. You deserve to be happy. And if being here and working with your brother in the orchard is what makes you happy, then I’m going to do everything I can to make sure you get to do that.”
He nudged Mateus’s knee again. “Besides, I’d really like to see the orchard that has you willing to risk deportation and jail,” Crawford said, surprising himself yet again with the truth of the statement. By rights, he should have been desperate to get through the next two weeks as quickly as possible so he could go home and put this whole ordeal behind him, but something about Mateus was calming, despite the fact that he so often left Crawford confused.
Mateus blew out a breath and nodded slowly. “Okay. Yes. Okay,” he murmured, and Crawford wondered if it was more Mateus reassuring himself than anything else. “I’ll call Duarte. And we’ll need to do something with our bags.”
Crawford rolled his eyes. “There are four Chatham-Thompson properties in Seattle, including one about a quarter of a mile from Pike Place. We can leave them there till we’re ready to go.”
Mateus pulled his phone out of his pocket and stood up. “Just so you know,” he said conversationally as he started to dial, “my sister-in-law is going to eat you alive.”
Chapter Fifteen
MATEUS was tired, but it was a good tired. The kind of achiness that came from spending hours walking around a big city taking in the sights. Just as he’d predicted, Bree had wanted to do a little shopping, and then Crawford had treated the four of them to dinner. It had been almost nine by the time they’d pulled up to the farmhouse, too dark to show Crawford the orchard.
They’d taken up residence at the kitchen table with a bottle of wine instead, and Mateus had been pleasantly surprised by how well Duarte and Crawford were getting along.
Just like he’d thought, Bree had taken to Crawford immediately. She’d also noticed their wedding bands about thirty seconds after she and Duarte had gotten out of the car—and that had been a scene. It was so romantic, she’d said. Like a fairy tale.
That was exactly what this was like. But not the sanitized Disney versions. This was a Grimm’s fairy tale in the making, and Mateus was going to be the one who ended up in pieces at the end.
He didn’t even realize how late it had gotten until he looked up and saw that Bree’s chair was empty.
“She went up to bed an hour ago,” Duarte said. He held a half-full bottle of wine up in question, but Mateus shook his head. He was too muzzy. Besides, he didn’t remember Duarte opening the third bottle at all. But he must have, because two empties now lined the table. “She’d never admit it, but the pregnancy makes her tired.”
“Growing a person is hard work,” Crawford said, nodding.
Mateus laughed. He put his hand over his gla
ss when Duarte let the bottle hover over it. “I’ve had enough, and I think Crawford has too. We should get to bed, and you should get back to your lovely wife before she comes down and skins us all alive for getting drunk when she can’t.”
“True, true,” Duarte murmured.
It was well past midnight when they finally made it back to Mateus’s room, stumbling inside with drunken laughs and unsteady steps thanks to the excellent wine Duarte had insisted on opening in celebration of their elopement. He seemed to agree with Bree that fate and happy coincidence had brought them together, which was true, in a way.
“I can’t believe you told your brother that I giggled when we kissed in front of the customs agent,” Crawford said, picking up the thread of a conversation from hours earlier.
“You can’t deny it, Crawford. I was there,” Mateus said, eyebrows winging up dramatically. “You giggled.”
Crawford blushed. “It was an act, Mateus. Just like those little kittenish moans of yours were,” he said, smiling triumphantly when Mateus’s cheeks darkened and he looked away.
“One, I did not moan. And two, I bet I could make you do it again,” Mateus said, his voice husky.
“I bet I could make you do it again,” Crawford answered, arching a brow when Mateus stepped into his space, their bodies barely touching. “That would prove you did it in the first place.”
“Fine, then.”
“Fine.”
Crawford’s mouth was on his before Mateus could fully digest the challenge. His heart was racing as his mind caught up to his mouth, his thoughts muddled by the wine and Crawford’s intoxicating scent.
Mateus wasn’t going to back down. He closed the tiny gap between them, bringing his hand up to cup the back of Crawford’s head as he brought their lips together. Crawford tasted of wine and some undefinable spice that seemed to make Mateus lose all rational thought. He crowded against Crawford, licking into his mouth with strong, bold strokes, his other hand coming up to cradle Crawford’s jaw, his touch light and reverent.
