by K-lee Klein
Brett chuckled and chucked JT under the chin. “You did do a fine job of mashing the potatoes, kid.”
They ate in comfortable silence, the steely edges of worry and upset gradually bleeding from JT’s conscience, loosening the taut strings around his heart. The jostling back and forth during dinner was familiar, comforting, their normal teasing always one of the favorite parts of JT’s day. But that didn’t keep him from thinking too much. And it became clear when they were washing up that Brett had been doing some pondering of his own.
He was elbow-deep in sudsy water when Brett snapped him with the dishtowel. “You never mentioned your grandmother before. Were you close?”
JT stared out the window as memories took hold. His lips quirked involuntarily. He’d never let himself miss her before, but he sure did now. “She was always good to me. She’s my mother’s mother, but they’re nothing alike.” Nothing at all if love, kindness, lack of prejudice and bigotry counted.
“Nice to know you had someone looking out for you.” JT knew Brett meant every word. He’d often talked about getting his dander up when he thought about JT living with his asshole family. Or more precisely, “You didn’t deserve the crazy-ass idiots who raised you.”
“You been in touch with her since you left?”
JT’s shoulders sagged and his posture right along with it. He focused on the soapy glass in his hand, knowing full well Brett would catch the unrest in his silence. Brett would forgive him. “No.”
“I’m sorry,” Brett said, circling JT’s bicep with warm, careful fingers. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
With a shrug, JT rinsed a mug under hot water. “It’s not your fault. I should have called her. That’s totally on me.” He gnawed the inside of his cheek as he handed Brett the glass. “She didn’t live in LA when I was growing up, but my parents deemed her fit to visit every so often, mostly Christmas. Her companion died a few years ago, so she moved back to California where she had family.”
Brett squinted up at him. “You said companion like it was a bad thing.”
A low snort preceded JT’s reply. “My mom always called Julie grandma’s roommate, but grandma never hid how they felt about each other.”
Brett’s reaction was nothing short of amusing. He flopped the towel over his shoulder and leaned his hip against the counter. His lips moved, but no sassiness emerged. JT enjoyed his uncommon speechlessness too much to offer aide right away. Finally, after he elbowed Brett in the belly, he found his words. “You telling me your granny was a lesbian?”
“I think bisexual is the correct term. One that you know full well since you’re one yourself.”
Another comical expression from Brett had JT smiling like a loon. His cowboy should have added actor to his roster of talents. Brett huffed, “I’m still not real clear on whether that definition suits me or not.”
It was JT’s turn to drop his cloth. He faced Brett with heightened curiosity. “You’ve slept with women, so what’s the confusion?”
Brett shrugged, flipped hair from his face, then crossed his arms over his chest. “I dunno. I mostly did that ’cause I had to. For my reputation and all that mumbo-jumbo.”
“But I remember you telling me you liked it enough to complete the transaction.”
“I said no such thing.” Brett seemed offended by the phrase until the memory must have jacked his brain. “Shit. I did, didn’t I? I must have been trying to impress you.”
“By saying you batted for both teams?” JT chuckled and poked at Brett. “That doesn’t seem like the right plan of action.”
Brett pushed up so they were nose-to-nose. “Didn’t seem to hurt my chances any.” He kissed JT full on the month, mostly chaste but with a little tongue just to get him going. It didn’t take much to do that.
“Tease,” JT murmured as he trailed wet hands over Brett’s body and under his shirt.
“I never had any kinds of feel—you trying to clean me up with that dirty water?” Brett asked. He didn’t push JT away though.
“I don’t mind you dirty.”
“Jesus, kid.” Brett grabbed his hands and held them still between their chests. “No kitchen sex. Pretty sure we almost toppled the damn fridge last time.”
“Spoilsport. You were saying?”
Brett pursed his lips, that cute expression that made his nose wrinkle and the little lines around his eyes more prominent. “Oh yeah. Just saying I never had any kinds of feelings for any of them women. Bad as that sounds. That ain’t here or there anymore anyhow.”
“I’m glad. I don’t like sharing.”
“No worries about that, kid. You wanna finish up and sit on the porch for a spell?”
“Crib?”
“Only if you promise not to cry. That shit gets embarrassing after a while.”
JT gasped and splashed water at him. He had some fucking nerve, true or not. “Jerk. Go set up the board, and I’ll be there in a minute. Grab me a beer but none for you.”
“Tough guy tonight, huh?”
“The toughest. I’m going to kick your ass at your own game.”
“I welcome you to try.”
JT got his butt kicked as usual, but Brett wiped the frown from his face—twice—afterward in the hot tub. They spent a lot of time necking under the stars, getting reacquainted physically and emotionally, with words being unnecessary for the most part. JT liked the peaceful nights, liked spending time with his cowboy at the end of the day, just the two of them kicking back with no firm plans or intentions.
Brett was all sass and fire when he wanted to be. Hell, they both were, but neither of them objected to some quiet time together whether making out, reading side-by-side, or watching something turned down low on the television in their room. Brett seemed especially happy about their room lately too. Because once JT had gotten over his trepidation of living in the house that had belonged to Walt, and more exactly, the room he’d shared with Brett, he agreed to some changes. And of course, Brett insisted he have full reign.
So he’d bought a new quilt to replace the one Brett had given to Walt all those years ago and suggested painting the room so it suited them both. Blue had been the compromise. Not blue like the morning sky, but rather the deepest shade of midnight they could find. The attached bathroom had been next, as well as the other rooms and hallway upstairs. And JT had added his own touches here and there too.
The full-sized surfboard in the corner of the family room had sent Brett into miniconvulsions of laughter when he’d first spotted it. JT had indulged him until he’d calmed down, then explained that an old friend had shipped it from California, just because. It was blue too, so there was obviously a theme of some kind going on, and Brett appeared to like it just fine. Loved it in fact.
JT never bothered sharing that he’d picked blue because of Brett’s eyes. He needed his own secrets, after all.
And Brett was always giving JT enormous credit in that boisterous Southern way he had for making Brett’s house into a home again, for taking a broken man and bringing him back to life. It was ridiculous. Brett had done the most important work when it came to changing his life. JT was just his biggest cheerleader and supporter. Besides, it wasn’t like JT was much good around the house—their home. He could handle a broom as well as the next guy, but Brett was the superior housekeeper in every circumstance, and JT still couldn’t cook worth shit. Brett said that was his domain anyhow.
Once they’d used up every ounce of energy in the tub, they did a quick cleanup, then crawled sated and exhausted into bed. Brett spooned JT from behind, holding him as close as humanly possible while JT forced himself to not squirm and snicker.
“Most nights I think you have more than just two arms,” he whispered into the darkness, at the same time twining their fingers together over his belly. “It’s funny because you don’t look like an octopus in the daylight.”
Brett puffed a chuckle against JT’s chilled skin. “Maybe I’m one of those man-octopus shifting creatures. Octoman or some
fool thing.”
JT laughed and Brett’s body shook right along with him. “And you only shift at night? In bed?”
“Vampire octopus, then? Or were-octopus that howls… no, slithers at the full moon?” Brett barely got through the sentence before dissolving into full-bodied snickers.
JT hung on for dear life. “You’re so weird. I love you.” And he did, so very, very much.
He felt Brett’s sweet smile curl against his neck. “Back atcha on both accounts. So I, uh, I was thinking.”
“That’s never a good thing. Wait. You’re not backing out of going to your mom’s tomorrow night?” Millie would sacrifice her only son to the Halloween goblins if they failed to show up, and JT was pretty certain he wouldn’t like to lose Brett that way.
“Hell no. She’d string me up by my nuts.” JT agreed with a nod. “And not give me my own bag of candy bars. ’Sides, I’m looking forward to seeing all that damn cute coming to the door.” JT wiggled his backside closer to Brett, encouraging a harder round of cuddling again. “About your grandma. I was wondering about you going to see her, maybe?”
JT lifted his head off their shared pillow. He couldn’t see Brett, of course, but it felt more responsive that way. “I never said that. I mean, sure, I miss her, but there’s way too much other shit I’d have to deal with.” Mother. Father. Mother. Mother. No.
“All right.”
He snuggled his head into the pillow again, then dragged Brett’s fingers to his lips. “But thanks.”
“Call her, then?”
With a ragged sigh, JT flattened their locked hands over his heart. “That’s a better idea. Night, Brett.”
“G’night, Darlin’.”
Chapter 8
“HELLO. I’M calling about Elizabeth Schultz.” JT held the phone so tight his knuckles ached. Brett sat next to him on the porch, pressed a kiss to his shoulder for support. “Yes. We’re related. She’s my grandmother. No, I know she’s there, but I was wondering if it was possible to talk to her.”
A minute or so passed, then…. “I can get a message to her, sir. Would you like her to call you back at the number listed for the Campbells?”
“No. No, um, I can give you mine and tell her to reverse the charges or whatever she needs to do.”
“Of course, sir. And the message is?”
“Just tell her I’m thinking about her and to call me when she’s up to it.”
“And you’re her grandson.”
“Yes, sorry. Tell her Johan—no. Tell her JT called. Thank you for your help.”
It was silly how JT tucked himself desperately into Brett’s embrace after. Truth was, he’d been worried that his parents had somehow blackballed him from contacting his grandma even though that was an absurd theory. He’d also been concerned about her, period. Falling down a set of stairs, no matter how large, couldn’t be good for an eighty-year-old.
“JT, huh? I figured your family was all about the classics, Johan. You okay?”
“She was the only one who shortened it.” JT snuffled into the fragrant skin of Brett’s neck. “Don’t you ever get tired of asking me that? Bet Walt was never such a drama—”
“We ask each other the same thing. Tit for tat and all that,” Brett said, cutting off yet another of JT’s jealous inquiries.
“You’re right.”
“Always am.” Brett dragged his mouth from JT’s cheek to his lips. “Lunchtime, right? You hungry?”
They’d just sat down to leftovers when JT’s phone vibrated against the wooden table. He palmed it, momentarily worried his mother was trying to track him down again after hearing he’d contacted his grandma. But the number was unknown.
“Hello, is this JT?” a smoke-hardened voice asked when JT pressed the cell to his ear.
“Grandma? Wow, I’m so glad to hear your voice.” JT bolted out of his seat, flashing Brett a grin as he started a slow circling of the kitchen.
“Where are you calling from, dear?” She giggled just like JT remembered, and his heart sang right along with the sound. “I suppose that’s silly since I called you, but where on earth have you disappeared to?”
JT paused by the kitchen island, steadying himself with one hand on the granite. Brett peered up at him, confusion mixed with concern crinkling the corners of his eyes. JT popped his bottom lip and gave him a thumbs-up. “Texas, Grandma. I’m in Texas, and I’m sorry I haven’t called you. How are you feel—”
“Enough about that. You’re in Texas?” she interrupted, her voice stronger and surer. “I’m not blind or dumb. You’ve been unhappy for so long. Tell me you’ve found something to make you happy, dear.”
It was a question not even JT’s parents had asked, and it threw him into a bit of a light-headed happy place. He couldn’t look at Brett, but he reached for his hand. “Yes. I have.”
“You’ve never deserved anything less, my darling. And your young man? What’s his name?”
“Brett, but he’s not that young.”
“Hey!” Brett growled, squeezing JT’s hand a little more than necessary.
“Oh! He sounds so manly.” JT could picture her smiling excitedly. “Julie and I always liked the manly types.”
JT laughed into the phone. That was news to him. “Ah. He’s a cowboy, so maybe a little. But, Grandma, tell me how you’re feeling.”
“Fit as a fiddle.” Yes, Grandma. I’m sure you are. “But they’re not letting me go home.”
He hated the sadness coming across the line. “Of course they will. You just need a little time to heal first.”
“A home, dear. They want to put me in one of those homes for old people.”
He must have reacted since Brett cocked his head in silent query. JT waved him off. “I’m sure that’s not it.” He heard her sniff into the phone. “And if it is, I’m sure we can figure something else out.”
“You’ve got all the smarts in that family.”
JT snickered into the phone. “You always tell me I take after you. Are you in pain, Grandma? Do they have you on some good meds?”
“Balderdash,” she said, not sharing his humor. “They can keep all their fancy degrees and schooling. Best thing you ever did was hit the road. Ah, I missed you, of course. But do you know what the best part of you leaving was?”
He shrugged before realizing he’d done it. “What?”
“You made your mother so mad I thought she was going to shoot fire from her eyeballs.” There was a hoot of laughter, and JT joined in. Brett looked smugly pleased and massively curious.
“Well, I share your joy in that.” He waited until her gurgled snorts and stifled giggles died down. “Are you really all right, Grandma?”
“I will be, dear. I’m a tough old bird, remember?”
“I do, and I miss you. A lot.” A single teardrop rolled down his cheek. He sniffled but didn’t care that he’d lost control of his sadness. Plus, Brett was the only one in the room and he was as loyal as they came.
“Don’t be getting ideas of coming back.”
It was out of nowhere, and JT was surprised by her candor. “Have you replaced me with another, prettier version of your grandson? Maybe a cute nurse at the hospital?”
“No one can hold a candle to you.”
“Grandma. How did you fall?”
She made a noise into the phone, and JT pictured her waving her hand in indifference. “Just clumsy stubbornness. What? Did you think you kept all those things for yourself? Now tell me about your man. Is he the man of your dreams, JT? Can you see everything you’ve ever wanted in his eyes?” Elizabeth Schultz was an extraordinary woman and the best grandma ever.
JT gave her a few little details of his new life. “My boyfriend is way more pretty than me.”
“Not possible.”
“He sings like an angel.”
“Sings? I like him already.”
“You’ll love him, but remember he’s mine.”
“Did you just call dibs on an old lady?”
“Learne
d from the best.”
“Does he treat you right, dear?” Grandma paused, but the deep breath into the receiver made JT wait her out. “That’s all that’s really important, you know? He has to be good to you, or I’ll come there myself and give him a tune-up.”
JT had no words, and the patient, admiring smile Brett flashed him didn’t help. He went with an overwhelming urge to tug Brett closer, dragging him out of his chair with one hand. Brett went without fuss, slipping his other hand around JT so they made a circle around the phone. JT switched it to speaker, and Brett nodded his acknowledgment. “Grandma. This is Brett.”
Brett looked panicky for a dozen heartbeats, his face blank before his expression changed to understanding. “Hello, ma’am. Uh, my name’s Brett Taylor, but you can call me Brett or whatever else you please. Um… hello.” He mouthed, “Help!” when there was no reply.
“Grandma? Are you still there?”
“Texas accent, JT. Give a girl a chance to adjust.” Brett’s eyes widened to cartoon proportions, but JT just smirked. “Hello, Brett. If you’re as lovely as your voice, you might just be perfect.”
Brett waggled his head. “No, ma’am. Far from perfect.” JT slapped him on the ass.
“Perfect for my grandson is different than perfect. I don’t believe I’ve met any perfect people in all my years. And if I did, they were probably too boring for me to care. Perfection is in the eye of the beholder, right?”
“That’s beauty, Grandma.”
“Is Brett as beautiful as you, my dear?”
“Much more.”
Brett snorted. “That’s a load of… still on speaker, right? JT is beautiful enough for the both of us, ma’am.”
“I was going to ask you to call me Betty, but all your ma’ams make me tingle young man.”
“Grandma.” JT was positive the word was garbled by a laugh.
Brett didn’t seem to notice. He flashed his pearly whites to a woman at the other side of the country. “Ma’am it is, then.”
“Grandma? Are you hitting on my man?”
“Only because he sounds adorable.” She said something away from the receiver, muffled. “Pishposh. Apparently my time is up, but not in the normal joining the angels or devils sort of way. This sort of thing will be the death of me if they put me in a home.”
