“Okay, love, time to get out of the tub.”
“Do I have to?”
“Yes,” Patrick replied with a laugh. “Give me your hand, and I’ll help you up so you don’t fall.”
“I think I can get out of the tub without hurting myself.”
“You fell off of a roof, Angel. Just let me help you.”
“I guess I can live with that,” Brad answered. He held out his hand and allowed his lover to pull him out of the tub. He was surprised when he found himself wrapped in a warm towel. Brad didn’t remember Patrick leaving the room, but he didn’t have a towel warmer in the bathroom, so his lover must have left. The towel was a nice touch. Brad felt warm and relaxed.
“Feel better?”
“Mmm hmm.” Brad leaned forward, rested his head against Patrick’s shoulder, and closed his eyes with a sigh. “Tired now.”
“Then let’s get you into bed.” Patrick wrapped his arm around Brad’s waist and headed out of the bathroom. Brad leaned against Patrick and let his lover move him through the house. He dropped onto his bed with a yawn. “Do you want pajamas or do you just want to get under the covers?”
“I just want to sleep.”
“Okay, lift up,” Patrick instructed. Brad followed his lover’s instructions and soon found himself snuggled under the covers. He watched as Patrick left the room with his discarded towel. A moment later, he heard the shower start in the bathroom. As he waited for Patrick to finish his shower and come back, Bingo came into the room. She hopped onto the bed and settled herself at his feet. Brad smiled and gave her side a small nudge with his foot. Bingo wagged her tail.
“I missed you too,” Brad murmured. He was rewarded with another tail wag from Bingo. Brad was about to ask her what she thought about the house, but then realized that he was attempting to have a conversation with a dog. “I think my head is still fuzzy.”
Thankfully, Bingo didn’t answer him. Brad carefully rolled onto his side, being sure to move his arm slowly. The last thing he wanted to do was to smack his broken wrist on the side of the bed. Once he was comfortable, Brad settled into a light doze. He was only partially aware of the water turning off and the light in the room going out. When the bed dipped behind him and strong arms wrapped around his waist, Brad murmured happily and shifted until he could feel Patrick’s chest pressed all along his back.
“You good, Angel?”
“I’m great. What about you? It’s like the middle of the day.”
“Don’t worry about me. We’ll have a nice nap, and I’ll make you dinner when you wake up.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too. Get some sleep, Angel.”
“Okay.” Brad let his entire body relax as he felt a kiss pressed to the back of his head. With Patrick’s arms holding him close, Brad let himself drift into dreamland.
A WET nose pressed against Patrick’s cheek, followed by a lick. He raised one hand and batted at the canine head poking at him. His actions resulted in another lick to his cheek. Patrick grumbled and opened his eyes. Bingo was standing on the bed near the edge.
“You need to go out, don’t you?” Patrick muttered. Bingo wagged her tail and hopped off of the bed. Patrick sighed. He was going to have to get up. He gave the sleeping man in his arms a soft kiss before slowly pulling his arms away from Brad’s body. Patrick rolled out of the bed and reached for his jeans. He pulled them on, then tucked the covers around Brad. Noting a slight shiver in his lover’s frame, Patrick turned on the electric blanket.
Patrick yawned and rubbed his eyes as he walked out of the room. He managed to navigate his way through Brad’s house without bumping into anything—which was surprising since he tended to walk into things in his own house when he was tired. He opened the back door to let Bingo out, shivering when the cold air touched his skin. Patrick was beginning to think he should have put a shirt on before letting the dog out. Thankfully, Bingo did not take long. She stood patiently on the mat while Patrick hunted up a towel to wipe off her feet. It was at times like this that Patrick was thankful that she was so well-trained.
Once he had Bingo dried off, Patrick took a look at the clock. It was getting close to dinnertime. Patrick was pretty sure that the hospital had kept Brad up for most of the night before—so the rest was a good thing—but he wanted to get some food in his lover. He headed into the kitchen and pulled open the fridge. He was in the middle of piling ingredients on the counter when he heard his phone start to ring. Patrick dropped a red pepper on the counter before lunging for his phone. Thankfully, he had left the phone in the kitchen when he had arrived.
“Hawkins.”
“How was your flight?” Cam asked.
“Not bad.”
“No annoying children on the flight?”
“Not this time,” Patrick replied. He left the kitchen and headed for the carry-on he had left by the door. He wanted the hands-free headset so he could keep cooking while he talked to Cam. “However, there was this woman who yelped every time that we hit turbulence.”
“Did you have a lot of turbulence?”
“No.” Patrick quickly hooked up his located hands-free. “I was hoping that we would. I really wanted to know if she would pass out if it got really bad.”
“You are an evil man.”
“I try. So, what’s up, Shutterbug?”
“Jeremy wanted to know how Bingo handled the flight.”
Patrick laughed. “Of course he was worried about the dog and not me. Bingo is fine.”
“Good. And why would we worry about you? You’re going to see Brad.”
“Point taken. The one you should be worried about is Brad.”
“What’s wrong with Brad?”
“He fell off the roof of the bar where he works.”
“Shit! Is he okay? What was he doing on the roof?”
“He’s got a broken wrist, some bruised ribs, and a whole lot of bruises. Apparently he was changing bulbs on the Christmas lights.”
“Okay, I guess that is an understandable reason to be on a roof during winter. Did he get all the bulbs changed before he fell?”
“I don’t have the full story yet. He was a little woozy when he got home, so I put him to bed.”
“Your boyfriend is a klutz.”
“Says the man who nearly set his own darkroom on fire.”
“That wasn’t my fault!”
“You were the only one there. Unless you plan on blaming it on the cat.”
“Puddles is evil. I think she just didn’t like those pictures I had of other cats.”
Patrick paused in the middle of chopping up the red pepper. “Are you seriously blaming your cat?”
“If you want I can blame you.”
“Go right ahead and blame the cat.” Patrick finished with the pepper and turned his attention to the cut-up chicken he had tossed in a skillet. It was just about time to add the barbeque sauce. Patrick picked up the bottle of sauce and scowled at it. “Ew. Store bought.”
“What did you just say?”
“I’m making stir-fry with store-bought barbeque sauce.”
“Why?”
“It’s the only type that Brad had in the house.”
“I guess you’ll have to make him some.”
“Think that would make a good Christmas present for Julian and Jack? I could make up a really big batch.”
“I once caught Julian going through the kitchen cupboards at two in the morning looking for the recipe, so I think that would be a pretty safe bet.”
“Okay. Sauce it is.” Patrick tossed the vegetables he had chopped into the skillet and added the bottled barbeque sauce. He made a face as he poured the sauce in the skillet. He hated store-bought sauce, but he didn’t have the time or ingredients to make any of his own before Brad woke up.
Cam’s laughter flooded over the line. “I can practically hear you pouting over the phone.”
“Oh shut it. You’d do the same thing if someone handed you a disposable camera.”
“It’s not a bizarre attachment.”
“Pat, you once dumped a guy because he didn’t like your barbeque sauce.”
“Well, he was obviously insane. And I busted him a month later for drug possession, so he’s not really a good example.”
“You have an excuse for everything.”
“Says the man who just blamed a fire on his cat.”
“Hey, I’m an artist. I’m allowed to be odd.”
“Who said you were an artist?” Patrick grinned into the phone as he gave the stir-fry a toss.
“Mean. You’re not exactly a nice person when your boyfriend is injured.”
“I’m nice to the people who count.”
“Wow. Harsh.”
“Come on, Shutterbug. You know that if I suddenly started being nice to you all the time you’d think that there was something wrong with me.”
“I’d think you were dying.”
“See, you like it when I’m mean to you.”
“I always knew that I had problems. Maybe I should see a therapist.” Cam’s deadpan delivery of that last line made Patrick laugh. “Now that’s a sound that I like to hear.”
“You always know how to make me laugh.”
“Same for you. That’s what best friends do.”
“You’re the best, Cam.”
“I know.”
“And so modest.”
“Hey, I have to put up with your shit. I deserve a medal.”
“Bastard.”
“Slut.”
“Bitch.”
“Who are you talking to?” Brad asked. Patrick turned to see his lover standing in the kitchen rubbing his eyes with his good hand and wearing a pair of pajama pants. He looked ridiculously adorable for someone covered in bruises.
“Sorry, Cam, I gotta go. Brad’s awake.”
“Tell him I hope he feels better.”
“Will do. Bye, Cam.”
“Bye, Pat.” The sound of Cam hanging up the phone echoed over the line before Patrick disconnected the hands-free. He tossed his phone on the table before walking over to his lover and giving him a soft kiss.
“Cam hopes that you feel better.”
“That’s nice of him.” Brad yawned and burrowed into Patrick’s arms. “It smells good in here.”
“I made you dinner.” Patrick pulled away and pushed Brad toward one of the kitchen chairs. “Have a seat.”
Patrick helped Brad into a chair before placing a kiss to the top of his head. He walked past the table and grabbed two plates out of the cupboard. He then rummaged around for some utensils.
“What did you make for dinner?”
“Chicken stir-fry. What do you want to drink?”
“Is there any milk in the fridge?”
“Let me check.” Patrick stuck his head in the fridge. “There is milk.” Patrick poured them each a glass of milk, placed them on the table, then grabbed the two plates he had filled. He put the plates on the table before sitting down. “Dinner is served.”
“This looks great, Patrick.”
“We need to talk about your barbeque-sauce situation.”
Brad looked up with a bite of chicken in his mouth. He swallowed before he talked. “What’s wrong with my barbeque sauce?”
“You bought it at a store.”
“I do tend to buy groceries every once in a while.”
“You should never buy barbeque sauce. I’ll make you some after I go to the grocery store.”
“You’re going to make me barbeque sauce?”
“I make amazing barbeque sauce.”
“Is this the barbeque sauce that Julian keeps trying to steal the recipe for?”
“Yes.”
“I’m looking forward to trying it.”
“Eat your dinner, Angel.” Patrick grinned at his lover before digging into his own dinner. The store-bought sauce wasn’t that bad, but his was better. Patrick kept an eye on Brad while the younger man ate. He was eating slower than usual and didn’t seem to be eating as much as he normally did. Patrick assumed that he was still feeling a tad woozy from the drugs.
“This was great, Pat, but I just can’t eat anymore,” Brad announced, pushing the plate away. He seemed to have eaten about two-thirds of the portion that Patrick had given him.
“That’s fine, Angel.” Patrick got to his feet, grabbed both plates, and headed to the counter. He packed up the leftovers and put them in the fridge. He was in the process of starting the dishes when he felt eyes on him. He turned to find Brad staring at him. “What are you looking at?”
“You’re amazing.”
“That’s always nice to hear.” Patrick flashed his lover a smile.
“I feel like I should be helping you.”
“You can’t really wash dishes with a broken wrist, Angel.”
“Why are you washing the dishes by hand? I have a dishwasher.”
“I know, but the pan won’t fit and your cutting board is made out of wood.”
“I have a cutting board?”
Patrick flung a dish towel at his lover’s head. “You are a pain in the ass.”
“But you love me anyway.”
“Damn straight.”
“I could dry the dishes for you,” Brad offered, holding the towel that Patrick had thrown at him.
“Why don’t you go and pick out a movie for us to watch? I’m almost done here anyway.”
“I can do that.” Brad slowly pushed to his feet and shuffled out of the room. Patrick waited until Brad was out of the room before turning his attention back to the dishes. He quickly powered through the remaining items. When he made it into the other room, he found Brad on the couch with a blanket spread over his lap. Patrick sat next to his lover and waited while Brad settled in his arms.
“So, what are we watching?”
“The Sword in the Stone.”
“We’re watching a cartoon?” Patrick teased. He grunted when Brad elbowed him in the stomach.
“It’s my favorite movie, and I watch it when I don’t feel good.”
“Hey, my favorite move is The Princess Bride.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“I thought it would be Indiana Jones.”
“Because of the ringtone?”
“Yep.”
“Well, no. My favorite movie is The Princess Bride.”
“Good to know.” Brad pressed play on the DVD remote then snuggled into Patrick’s chest. Patrick wrapped his arms around his lover and pulled him close. “Thank you for this, Pat.”
“For what, Angel?”
“For just being here.”
“I’m glad that I am here.” Patrick kissed the top of his lover’s messy blond head. Patrick leaned back against the couch and turned his attention to the TV. He hadn’t seen The Sword in the Stone in years. He was looking forward to it. Patrick smiled to himself. He had never imagined that he would spend an evening watching cartoons with his lover.
“You’re not paying attention.”
“Sorry, Angel.”
“What were you thinking about?”
“Just how much I’m going to enjoy this.”
“Well, you’ll have to pay attention to enjoy it. No more thinking until the movie is over.”
“Yes, boss,” Patrick replied. He pressed one last kiss to the top of Brad’s head before he turned his attention back to the movie.
BRAD woke with a yawn and rolled over. Patrick was asleep next to him. His lover’s brown hair was sticking up in spikes and his face was partially buried in a pillow. Brad thought he looked adorable.
Resting lightly on his injured arm, Brad leaned forward and kissed Patrick’s cheek. Patrick grunted and attempted to burrow farther into the pillows. Grinning, Brad did it again. This time Patrick’s response included a whine. Brad kissed his way down Patrick’s neck and across his shoulder. He gave Patrick’s should
er a small bite.
“What are you doing?”
“Morning, handsome.”
“Go away. I wanna sleep more.”
“Really? That’s too bad.” Brad moved until he was straddled over his lover’s prone form. “I was planning on having my way with you.”
“Hmm. I think I can be awake for that.”
“I thought that might be your answer,” Brad replied. He used his feet to push the blankets to the foot of the bed, ignoring the slight chill the air gave him. The blankets were just going to be in his way. Brad put his weight on his left elbow instead of his wrist, which put him closer to Patrick’s back than he had intended, but that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Fully settled, Brad started to lick across his lover’s back.
Brad licked each number of the tattoo of Patrick’s badge number. His lover shuddered beneath him, making Brad wonder if his own tattoo would be as sensitive or if it was just a Patrick thing. Once he finished with the tattoo, Brad began placing sucking kisses down Patrick’s spine.
“Are you leaving hickeys on my back?”
Brad paused and lifted his head. “Maybe. Problem?”
“No. No problem at all.”
“Good,” Brad replied. He continued on his way down his lover’s spine. When he reached Patrick’s lower back, Brad moved his head to one side and sunk his teeth into Patrick’s hip. Patrick moaned and squirmed beneath him. Brad repeated the bite on the other side of Patrick’s hip then sat back to admire his handiwork. He enjoyed the vivid love bites on his lover’s skin. When Patrick started to shift on the bed, Brad pulled his hand back and gave his lover’s ass a swat.
“Shit,” Patrick yelped softly. Giving his lover’s back a cheeky grin, Brad did it again. This time he was rewarded with a moan.
“Seriously? You turn all kinky on me when I have a broken wrist?”
Patrick snorted. “Like you didn’t know I was kinky. It looks like you tried to eat me.”
“I didn’t know that you had eyes in the back of your head.”
“I can imagine what you did to my back.”
“You liked it.”
Broken Wings Page 22
