by Peter Styles
“Here. Let me have her.” Wyatt trailed after me into the living room, nearly collapsing on the couch and watching me through his weariness. I laid Tempy on her stomach across my lap and gently rubbed her back. It took a couple of minutes, but soon her crying eased. When she was quiet, I swaddled her snugly in the soft blanket Wyatt had wrapped her in and watched her fall asleep.
“How do you know all this crap, Vance? Running into you in the grocery store is like the best thing that ever happened to me.”
My heart pounded. I had been trying so hard to keep the crush I had on him under wraps. Wyatt was straight. He was sixteen years older than me.
“I was the babysitter of choice. My older siblings thought nothing about taking advantage of a younger brother old enough to watch their kids.” I stroked a finger over Tempy’s downy cheek. She was really out of it now. “You can probably put her in her crib.”
Wyatt yawned. “Come with me. You’re my good luck charm when it comes to her.”
We settled her in her crib and stood watching her. I allowed myself to fantasize that this was the way it would be—the two of us taking care of Tempy, watching her grow up—but then I glanced over and saw the picture of his dead wife perched on top of the dresser that held Tempy’s baby clothes.
Straight. Grieving. And when he stopped grieving, I was sure there would be plenty of single young women in Worthington ready to take him to bed.
“I don’t know how to thank you,” Wyatt whispered.
I shrugged nervously, needing to get away before I gave myself away. I enjoyed Wyatt’s friendship and didn’t want to lose it should he find out how I felt about him. I stalked out the nursery door. Wyatt caught up with me at the top of the stairs, his hand coming down on my shoulder.
“Vance. Hey. What’s wrong?”
I couldn’t hide what I felt for him, not anymore. I knew the exact moment Wyatt saw my feelings and understood. He took a step back, eyes wide. It was like taking a punch to the chest. I’d been down this road before. Would he freak out next or just freeze me out?
“I gotta go,” I managed to choke out, rushing down the stairs toward the front door.
“Vance! Wait.” He caught me just as I put my hand on the doorknob and turned me into his arms. His big hand cupped the back of my head as he pressed me against his chest. I had dreamed of this, of being held close to that powerful chest and hearing his heart beat against mine, but not out of pity. I tried to pull away, but he held on tight.
“I need to leave,” I protested again.
“Don’t.” Wyatt’s voice was choked. “Please don’t go. I don’t want to be alone.”
And then he’d tilted my head back and kissed me. His lips were surprisingly soft and gentle. It had been so tentative at first, and I wasn’t sure how to respond. Would I freak him out? But I was the one who nearly lost it when I felt the first sob shake his muscular frame.
“I can’t do this anymore,” he’d whispered between his tears. “I can’t be strong all the time, and I miss having someone to hold. Just let me hold you. Please.”
Who could resist that? I certainly couldn’t, and the crush I’d had morphed into the love I still felt for him. I’d wrapped my arms around his waist and held on for dear life while he cried. When his tears were done, he hadn’t freaked out or pushed me away. He’d led me upstairs to his bed, begging me to stay with him so he could sleep. We had slept that night and done little else, but it wasn’t long before the kissing had led to more. So much more.
I sat on the couch with my head in my hands. Like I’d told Upton, Wyatt had laid out his terms. I could either accept them or move on for good. Honestly, I didn’t think I could move on, and I was so afraid the only thing ahead of me was pain more crushing than what I’d already experienced.
12
Wyatt
I had picked up my phone to call Vance at least a million times since making love to him. The reality of him in my arms again had been so much better than any nighttime or shower fantasy. But how the hell could what was between us ever be any more than that? I had responsibilities to my business and employees, responsibility to Tempy as her dad. And hadn’t I hurt Vance enough already? What the hell was wrong with me?
So in the end, I chickened out every time. It wasn’t as though Vance was ringing the phone off the hook either. Maybe he’d had second thoughts too. I hadn’t been able to give him the guarantees he had to have wanted, and that might have turned into a dealbreaker for him.
Now it was Sunday evening. Tempy and I were on our way to Austin’s house. He and Benji were hosting a “family” dinner. As much of a workaholic as Austin had been, I supposed I should be glad he’d found a way to relax in his relationship with Benji. Blind from birth, Austin’s husband tended to be a smartass with a wicked sense of humor.
Benji was the one to open the door. His head turned unerringly toward Tempy—I had no idea how he even knew. “As beautiful as ever, I see, Tempy.”
She giggled. “Nice try, Benji, but you’re blind.”
He tapped his temple. “I have super senses that make up for it in ways mere mortals can’t imagine.”
Austin came up behind Benji and slipped his arms around his waist as he studied Tempy and me. “Benji is right as usual. You do look wonderful, sweetheart. Come on in, Wyatt. The beer is cold and the food is hot.”
As we walked into the kitchen, Austin clapped an arm across my back. “I’m glad you could make it. It’s been too long.”
I slid him a grin. “You know where to find me, bro.”
Dinner was relaxing. Benji was on his best behavior, which meant he kept Tempy giggling and blushing. I envied him and my brother. Austin didn’t appear to have nearly the hang-ups I had going on. As I finished the last of the fajitas, I listened to Benji and Tempy’s back and forth banter with a smile.
“So do you have an art class in middle school this year?” he asked, one brow arched.
“You know I can’t draw anything more than stick figures. I’m taking Spanish and gym this semester, plus all the usual boring stuff.”
When I gave her the look, she rolled her eyes. Sometimes the need for middle school cool was a bit over the top. Tempy was a brilliant student, and I definitely didn’t want her falling into the mindset that being smart was a bad thing. Too many students were dismissing how much a good education mattered.
“What you need is to try something three dimensional,” Benji told her, leaning closer. “Come with me and I’ll let you play in the mud.”
“What?” she laughed.
“We can mess around with some clay on the potting wheel.” Benji shifted his face my way. “I promise to get wet clay all over her clothes. It will be a great addition to the interior of your truck.”
“Hey…” I started with a frown and Benji laughed.
“Relax. I’ve got smocks.”
The two of them headed to the back of the house and his studio, Benji finding his way unerringly as if he really could see where he was going. When I looked at Austin again, I caught an unguarded look on his face that showed just how much he loved that man. It was something I had never thought to see from my workaholic younger brother.
“He amazes me every day, Wyatt. I never…” his voice trailed off, he grinned at me and changed topics. “So, tell me how things are going with you lately.”
I blew out a breath. “Why don’t we grab another beer and go out on the back porch.”
“That sounds serious.”
I shrugged, not wanting to talk about it until I was sure we were truly in private. The screened back porch allowed the warm air and chirping of the crickets in without having to put up with any other bugs.
“All right. We’re alone. What’s going on, Wyatt?” Austin asked as soon as we were seated. He’d always been someone who got straight to the point.
“I’ve seen Vance again.” After I delivered that line, I kind of held my breath.
“Well, yeah. Tempy mentioned she has him for homeroom and m
ath.” Austin stopped. “Wait. Do you mean you’re seeing seeing him, or like…what exactly?”
I took a sip of my beer and swallowed. “Just once…so far.” There. I’d admitted it. Now maybe Austin would tell me what an idiot I was and to cut it out because god only knew I was having a tough time figuring out how not to screw things up.
The only thing that met me was silence.
“Don’t you have anything to say?” I asked, unable to keep some of the snark from my tone. Austin had certainly had plenty to say twelve years ago when all the rumors had started.
“I think you’re still ignoring the elephant in the room, big bro.”
I blew out a breath. “What elephant is that?”
Austin leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. Even in the dim evening light I couldn’t miss his laser focus on me, and I shifted in my seat. “Come on, Wyatt. You found Vance right after Elaine died, while you were at your most vulnerable. Vance had the audacity to actually make you happy at a time when you thought you shouldn’t be.”
“My wife died, Austin. I wasn’t supposed to be happy.”
“That’s always been your problem. You felt you had to carry that grief and misery around like a mantle. Or maybe it was a shield.”
Fuck. What the hell had I been thinking to talk to Austin? Mr. Direct. The man who always cut right to the heart of everything. I suppose I deserved it; I’d served him that dish more than once.
“You were always too worried about doing what was expected…what you thought was the right thing to do,” he said. “Oh, and maybe you were also worried that you were robbing the cradle a little.”
“How old is Benji again?” I mused.
Austin snorted and swigged is beer, arching an eyebrow at me. “You wanted to talk.”
“Yeah, well... Vance isn’t a teenager anymore.” I set my beer down with a clunk. “And yeah, it still hurts that Elaine gave her life for our daughter. But I’m not still grieving.” I rubbed a hand over my head. “Not like then.”
“Maybe not, but it’s obvious to me in the way you’ve totally avoided Vance that you’ve got some issues. Is he a reminder that you believe you did something wrong? You felt selfish for wanting to be with Vance back then. Do you still?”
“Way off the mark, brother.” I waved the idea off.
“Is it? Could you walk down this street right now and tell everyone you meet that you’re in love with Vance? In love with a man?”
Sweat trickled down the back of my neck. God, I hated when Austin kept poking and prodding. But I’d asked for this. “I don’t want Tempy to think I’ve forgotten her mother…or that there’s any truth to those rumors about when I started seeing Vance back then.”
“That’s just stupid, Wyatt,” Austin said, eyes rolling. “Tempy knows you love her. God knows you’ve never pretended like her mother didn’t exist. She’s old enough to be able to figure things out, with your help. Your job isn’t to keep her from having to confront any ugliness in the world. Your job is to help her grow into a strong, confident young woman who can handle the messiness of life when she does run into it.”
I knew he was right, but damned if I was going to tell him so. However, Austin wasn’t through yet.
“Wyatt, if you’re drawn to Vance again all these years later… well… worse things could happen than you having some personal happiness for a change. It’s not selfish. It’s just being human.”
I finished my beer in silence. I had hoped for different advice, hoped that Austin would back up my fears that I would be doing Tempy and myself a disservice by going after Vance. Being with Benji had changed my little brother, though. He was no longer only about work.
“We should probably get home. Tempy goes back to school tomorrow, so she needs to get a good night’s sleep.”
Austin stood when I did and pulled me into a hug. “You’ve grieved long enough, Wyatt. You deserve some happiness, too. Remember that.”
I thought about nothing else on the way home or for the rest of the evening. Long after Tempy had gone to bed, I sat with my phone in my hand.
What was Vance doing? Every time I closed my eyes, I saw him naked, holding his arms out to me, welcoming me back. The scent of his skin and the heat of his body were nearly tangible. He’d been asleep when I left the other evening, his cheeks still flushed from our whiskers brushing together while we kissed.
I’d stood over him after I’d gotten dressed, so tempted to crawl back into that bed and fold myself around him. Did I deserve personal happiness? I wasn’t so sure. Vance had been a way for me to drown my grief. That’s how it had started, but it hadn’t stayed that way.
Maybe that was what scared me the most all those years ago. I thought I’d found a way to fuck my way out of the grief over Elaine’s death. Instead, Vance had found his way inside my heart and soul. He’d been so good with Tempy, so patient with me.
And in bed? We could have burned down the town. If a part of me thought going to bed with him again would bring closure, I was wrong. It had simply set a match and rekindled the fire. My body burned for him. Even now. I adjusted my aching cock. I needed a shower. A cold one. Because now that I’d had Vance again, getting myself off with my hand just wasn’t going to cut it. And what the hell was I supposed to do with that?
13
Vance
Looking up from my gradebook and seeing Wyatt’s steady gray gaze studying me was a little disconcerting. Except it wasn’t Wyatt. Tempy was back. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t give me a bit of a boost from an otherwise dismal morning. I wasn’t sleeping well. Logic and desire always seemed to pick the point where I was trying to get to sleep to start doing battle in my brain.
As I casually made my rounds between desks, greeting students, and asking how their weekends went, I made a point of stopping at Tempy’s desk.
“Welcome back, Tempy. I’m happy to see you.”
“Good morning, Mr. Waite. I have my make-up work. Do I turn all of it in to you or give it to each teacher?”
“If you have it all in the same folder, I can take it and make sure it gets distributed.”
She dug through her book bag, producing the folder I had dropped off at the house.
As I took it from her, I added quietly, “If you have any more problems with anyone, I want you to know you can talk to me in confidence about it.”
“Okay. Thanks.” She didn’t look up at me. Obviously she didn’t want to seem as if she were on overly buddy-buddy terms. I got that. It wasn’t cool.
Middle school students were still trying to find their feet on how to relate to teachers. We weren’t the surrogate parents they’d had in elementary school, and they weren’t quite ready to deal with us on an adult level like some high school and college kids…well, most of the time.
With each change of class, I made a point of just keeping an eye out for Tempy. I tried to tell myself I was only doing what I would do for any student, but it wasn’t strictly true. This was Wyatt’s kid. This was the baby I had comforted, cuddled, and fed so long ago before everything had gone awry. Maybe I was being more paternal than I might have with other students. She wouldn’t be back in my math class until fourth period, so I really needed to chill.
I also kept an eye on Kirk. He had been called out of my math class to talk to the counselor the previous week, but I couldn’t honestly say that I had seen much of a change in the way he related to the other students. While he was big for his age now, chances were good things would even out in high school. From my own experience, I had seen middle school bullies like Kirk end up getting justice served to them a few years down the road. What was that line about revenge being a dish best served cold? Middle schoolers had a long memory in my experience.
Tempy’s lunch also coincided with mine. As I sat with the teachers at the faculty table on one side of the cafeteria, I glanced around. She was seated with a couple girls at the far end of the room but really didn’t seem to be interacting with them. Hadn’t Wyatt said somet
hing about Tempy having had a falling out with her best friend over the summer? That could be painful at this age.
As I watched, Kirk came out of the food line, pausing next to Tempy to say something to her. I tensed, wishing I could hear what they were saying, but it was impossible with all the other noise. Whatever Kirk had said, Tempy gave him only the briefest of responses before going right back to eating her lunch. Whatever her response had been, it was enough that he didn’t linger, scurrying away with his tray to find a spot at a table on the other side of the room.
Good job, Tempy. She had avoided a confrontation, but whatever she’d said had been enough to shut him down. An absurd sense of pride filled me, just as if she were my own kid.
I turned my attention back to finishing my own lunch. Somehow, I had to maintain my objectivity, but it was damn hard. I had played more of a role in her life than I had with my other students. She just didn’t know about it.
Marissa Mann, the English teacher on my team, bumped me with her elbow. “You okay, Vance? You seem a little down today.”
“Oh, I’m fine. Just have a lot going on right now, but I appreciate you asking.”
“Don’t forget, we have a team meeting during the first part of our planning period.”
“I’ve got it on my calendar,” I said. “I’ve also got the folder with Temperance Worth’s make-up work to give to everyone.”
Having planning at the end of the day was nice. While it made for a hectic morning, it was a lot easier to get things done. Tempy was back in my class for that last period before planning. When class ended, Tempy lingered.
“Mr. Waite, do you have a few minutes to talk?”
Damn. This couldn’t have come at a worse time. I was so tied in knots about her dad, I didn’t know if I could be objective about any problems she might be having.
