by Amy Lane
“Or?”
“Or we can go back to what we were doing, get up in an hour, and let Elton’s parents come visit us while our entire menagerie is still in pajamas.”
Aaron plumped down in the pillows next to him and regarded Larx soberly.
“I need this time with you,” he said bluntly. “I miss you. I miss us. I get that we have kids and you’ve been running your ass off trying to be principal/dad/nursemaid, but I’m tired of missing you. I don’t even care if it’s selfish. Please, baby. Even if we just go back to sleep. Even if these people hate our pajamas. Please, just lie down next to me for another hour?”
Larx’s eyes grew fond again, and he reached out with the hand not holding his phone and stroked Aaron’s jaw softly with his fingertips. “How could anybody not like our pajamas?”
“Plaid’s always in style.” Aaron sure hoped so—he’d been wearing it an awful goddamned lot in the past few weeks.
“Mm….” Larx burrowed his hands under Aaron’s T-shirt, where the bandages and the stitches had lived until the day before. His touch was light, exploratory, and he was blessedly ginger around the ridges of Aaron’s scars, but his hands felt so good. “You know what would really be in style?” he asked, batting his lashes.
“Skin,” Aaron purred, breathing the word softly in his ear. He reached down, shoving his hand under Larx’s sweats and kneading that tight, solid ass. “God, this feels good. It shouldn’t, ’cause it’s all muscle, nothing plush, but—”
Larx kissed him to shut him up.
This was usually Aaron’s move, but he wasn’t going to object. This wasn’t a kiss of comfort or a kiss of connection. This was a full-on, openmouthed, tongue-dueling, octopus-handed kiss of romance and sex and naked bodies that should be writhing on the bed if it weren’t for all the goddamned clothes.
Aaron moaned and rolled over on his back, hoping Larx would take the hint. Supporting his weight on his elbows would hurt, but Aaron would lick, suck, nibble, and tongue anything Larx put in his way.
Larx apparently felt the same way. He started out by nibbling on Aaron’s neck, on his earlobe, licking a line down his throat. Aaron gave a happy little sigh and reached down to pull his T-shirt up. Larx took over, shoving it gracelessly to Aaron’s armpits and sniffing Aaron’s chest and scars experimentally, like a cat on a new patch of grass.
“What are you doing?” Aaron chuckled.
“I want to see how my property changed.” Larx sent him an endearingly grumpy look from under his brows. “I told you to take care of my property, and it got scuffed, and I want to see where the scuffs are.”
“Mm. Here.” Aaron twined their fingers together, keeping his index finger free. “This here—” He traced a puncture between his ribs where they’d put the valve in his lung to help with inflating it and keeping the fluid out. “—this is where they pulled the rib out of my lung.”
“Ouch,” Larx said softly.
“I was unconscious,” Aaron reassured him. “But my chest still hurts when I walk outside, so I’ll assume it happened.”
Larx kissed the inch-long incision gently. “To make it better.”
Aaron’s whole body shuddered. “That worked.” He pulled their twined hands to the incisions on either side of his abdominal muscles. “These,” he said, “were to repair the things—spleen, kidney, lower intestine—that got torn by my ribs or burst by the impact.”
Larx moved down and kissed those too. “Ouchie,” he whispered.
“Yeah.” Healing, sweet and blessed, flowed through him, and he pulled their hands to his left pectoral, flattening his hand and turning it palm up so Larx’s was palm down. “This—”
“There’s no scars here.” Larx peered up at him, a smile in his eyes.
“You can’t see it,” Aaron told him, sober as a judge. “This is where my heart aches when I see you working so hard, taking all the burdens on your shoulders, and I can’t help.”
Larx’s eyes grew bright and shiny, and he bit his lower lip as it quivered. “You’re afraid to drive,” he said baldly.
“It’s scary,” Aaron told him, and admitting that something so simple scared him wasn’t as hard as he thought it would be. “I got knocked off my feet, backward. And it wasn’t in a car, but… but I feel that weightlessness and it… it terrifies me.”
“Mm.” Larx kissed his chest, pausing to be distracted by Aaron’s right nipple, and Aaron let the sheer sexuality wash through him again. He kneaded his fingers softly in Larx’s hair and bucked his hips, because arousal was a luxury, and he wanted to savor it.
Larx let him go with a pop and smiled, tranquil in this moment as Aaron hadn’t seen him in a month.
“What about you?” Aaron asked softly, heart in his throat. This moment was so lovely—he hated to trample on it by pushing too hard.
But Larx surprised him—as he often did—in the best of ways. “These,” he said, dragging their twined hands to the corners of his eyes, “are from trying to figure out how to get Christi to her PSATs, Kirby to his college tour, and Kellan to his basketball game when we don’t have that many cars.”
Aaron chuckled. Elton had walked in while Larx was having that discussion. He’d calmly said, “My car’s fixed. Livvy and I will take Kirby, Christi can drive Livvy’s car, and you can go see Kellan play.”
Larx’s entire body had almost melted—Aaron had felt his relief on a visceral level from across the room.
“That’s a scar,” Aaron agreed, pleased when Larx smiled. Then he grew sober, and Aaron prepared himself. This game was really very serious.
“These,” he said, using his index finger to outline the deepened grooves around his mouth, “are from yelling at my daughter and knowing she’ll hate me for a moment, but doing anything—anything, to get her out of the house, get her blood flowing, get her appetite back, so she can make better decisions about her health.”
Aaron nodded, his own heart aching. He’d known this was weighing Larx down—but not once had Larx told him. He used his free hand to rub his thumb along the corner of Larx’s mouth. “That would leave a mark,” he agreed.
Larx nodded, then swallowed and pulled both their hands to his chest. “And this,” he whispered, just as downstairs exploded into chaos.
They both froze, locking eyes, Larx visibly shaking. There was a pounding at the front door, complete with a ringing doorbell, a barking dog, voices at the back door, and three teenagers bolting out of their rooms and running down the stairs yelling things like, “What the hell…? What the actual fuck…? For fuck’s sake, what in the actual hell!”
“Front door!” Christi called, and Kirby yelled, “Back door!” and Kellan yelled, “Dog! Dozer! The fuck! Get down!”
Aaron struggled to get his breath, to pull his emotions from the wobbly place he’d taken them, and Larx was obviously doing the same.
“Everybody’s here,” he said weakly.
“Baby….” Aaron wanted that moment back. Goddammit, he wanted that moment back. That precious, raw moment when Larx was still, his true heart on his sleeve, the words that would set them both free about to spill from his lips.
Larx shook his head and gulped in a breath with the same expression he used when he was running. “No baby,” he gasped. “Not now. Need to not be baby right now.”
Aaron wrapped his arms around Larx’s shoulders and gave him a hard squeeze, like he was literally pulling him back together. He released the pressure and kissed Larx’s temple.
“Let’s go deal,” he said. Larx rolled out of bed in his sweats and T-shirt, hair a disaster, expressive brown eyes more lost than Aaron had ever seen them. Aaron was still struggling to sit up when Larx pulled on his hooded sweatshirt and a pair of socks before putting his feet into his slippers and heading for the door.
“Larx!” Aaron begged, sitting up at last. “Wait—we can go down togeth—”
A man’s voice, raised in anger, echoed through the house, and the look they shared morphed into panic.
�
��I’ll get the thermostat,” Aaron said, because turning it up was the first thing they did when they got up. “Go!”
Larx took off, and Aaron managed to find his own zipper hoodie, socks, and moccasins so he could follow his boyfriend—shitty word. Goddammit, boyfriend was a shitty word for what he and Larx had been doing in that bedroom just now. But whatever the thing they were to each other, the huge, important, painful word, Aaron needed to follow him into the storm.
By the time Aaron got downstairs, headless chicken Armageddon pajama party was in full force.
Larx was standing in the middle of the living room with one hand on the dog’s collar and the other extended out in placation to a middle-aged couple—probably Elton’s mother and father—wearing the kind of leisure suits Aaron only saw in department store windows in the movies.
The kids were ranged around them, and Elton and Olivia were behind him, Elton standing with his shoulders angled away from the couple and toward Olivia in protection.
“I need you to contain your animal, sir!”
“This is his own goddamned house!” Larx snapped. “I need you to lower your fucking voice and stand down! You burst in here past my daughter and start yelling, and of course the dog thinks you’re an asshole! Now shut up and tell me what crawled in your puckered asshole and died! Oh—and while you’re at it, tell me who in the hell you are!”
Larx’s roar echoed off the walls of the living room, and even Dozer quieted down.
“I’m Shawn McDaniels, Elton’s father, and I demand to know why you won’t let my son return home!”
Larx frowned at him, genuinely puzzled. “Elton is free to come and go as he pleases. His car was fixed a week and a half ago—he’s staying here of his own free will.”
“Bullshit,” McDaniels snapped. “Nobody leaves a full ride in San Diego to shack up with some baby machine in the backwoods of Tahoe!”
“Dad, stop it!” Elton snapped back, putting Olivia behind him instinctively. God, Aaron liked this kid. “She’s right here, and you’re being an asshole. I tried to talk to you on the phone—I’ve been trying for weeks. You didn’t like what I said, so you and Mom get on your high horse and come bother these nice people? That’s awful. Do you realize how awful that is? Larx should let the dog eat you. You’ve violated their home, and I’m not talking to either of you until you lower your voices and calm the fuck down!”
Shawn McDaniels reacted as though slapped. “Who are these people, Elton? Did you even tell them we were coming?” He was a big, ruddy man with thinning red hair and the complexion of someone who liked a scotch or three after work. He was probably Aaron and Larx’s age, maybe five or so years older, but he looked sixty-five.
“Yeah, Dad, this is what half an hour’s notice looks like. Mom said you just got to Sacramento. What in the hell?”
“Sorry, honey,” his mother chimed in, glancing nervously at her husband. “I had the text all written, and I didn’t send it until Auburn, and then the reception was bad so I don’t think it sent until… well… when you got it.”
Larx tilted his head. “Wow. Just… wow. If you guys like, you can come into the kitchen and—”
“Are you going to put that animal outside?” McDaniels asserted.
“No.” Larx smiled when he said it, showing all his teeth. “I’d like the luxury of letting him eat your face if you get nasty again.”
McDaniels gaped once or twice, and to Aaron’s surprise, his wife gave a tiny smirk. “Mr. Larkin?” she asked hesitantly. “I’m, uh, Cheryl, Elton’s mother. We’re sorry about the time mix-up. And I’m sorry about my husband. We’re just concerned. Elton hadn’t even mentioned this girl—”
“My oldest daughter, Olivia,” Larx said stiffly. As much as Aaron approved of Larx standing up for himself, he was a little alarmed by the way he held his shoulders, his chest. Having his emotions so close to the surface, being assaulted by all this—Larx was pretty fucking resilient, but Aaron thought this might be the place where he snapped. “Please speak of her respectfully.”
“You, uh, certainly have a lot of children.” While Shawn fumed, Cheryl sent a conciliatory smile around the front room. “I’m sorry we didn’t get a chance to get introduced.”
Larx made a visible effort to calm down. “This is Christiana, Olivia’s younger sister, and—”
“Our brothers,” Christi said, her voice as cold as Aaron had ever heard it. “Kellan and Kirby.”
“Are you triplets?” Cheryl asked, agonized. “You don’t look anything alike, but you’re all… uh….”
Aaron stepped forward. “It’s confusing, I know. I’m Aaron George—”
“My stepdad,” Olivia said, speaking for the first time and giving Aaron a weak smile. “And his son, Kirby, and our foster brother, Kellan. He’s got two daughters too, but they’re grown and don’t live at home.”
“Wait,” Cheryl said uncertainly. “If Larx is your dad, and Aaron’s your stepdad, who’s Aaron married to?”
Boyfriends. Married. Husbands. Duh! “Larx and I are together,” Aaron said, and he realized he was edging forward so he could put himself between Larx, just like Elton had done with Olivia.
“Don’t you see?” Shawn McDaniels spat. “Cheryl, they’re homosexuals.”
“But who had the children?” Cheryl asked him.
“A test tube? Who cares! No wonder they’re so desperate for their kid to breed—but our son isn’t getting caught up in it!”
Aaron threw himself forward to keep Larx from lunging for Shawn McDaniels’s throat. “Larx! Larx! Dammit, he’s an asshole, but don’t—ouch!” In the scuffle, Larx’s shoulder hit him directly in the chest, and Aaron wasn’t quite healed yet.
Larx backed up, hand over his mouth. “Oh God. I’m so—”
“I’m fine.”
“Aaron, I’m so sorry—”
“Baby, it’s okay. It just twinged—”
Larx swallowed, and the thing Aaron had been waiting for finally happened.
He snapped.
“I’ve got to go,” he said brokenly and headed for the door, bending to grab his sneakers on his way out. Dozer followed him, and Aaron took a few quick steps after them and stopped, leaning against the couch with stars in front of his eyes because he wasn’t supposed to move that fast yet.
“Goddammit!”
Olivia and Elton were having a meeting with their eyeballs.
“I’ll get him,” Olivia said. “He’s only going on the loop. Don’t worry, Aaron, he won’t be alone.” She started for the backyard but paused at the door to speak to Elton’s parents. “Your son’s amazing,” she said, her voice wobbling. “He’s the kindest, most wonderful man. I’m not sure who you let raise him, but whoever it was, they did a really good job. You should tell them that.”
Aaron watched forlornly as she disappeared and then turned to the shocked people in the front room.
Only to have Elton step in front of him. “Dad, leave. You’re not welcome here until you apologize, and nobody’s ready for your apology yet.”
Shawn McDaniels gaped again. “What in the—”
“This is Deputy Sheriff Aaron George. The night I got here, I’d wrecked my car and bumped my head. Aaron picked me up on the side of the road, figured out where I was, who I was, and called Olivia. He didn’t yell. He didn’t threaten. He took a goofy—” Only the family could hear the pause. “—wombat and made him feel safe, and then called the girl I’d been searching for and convinced her I wouldn’t hurt her. He’s in pain because he got shot that night, in the line of duty, so maybe don’t act like you’re going to bully him, because the kids and I would have to hurt you.”
Elton’s father took a step back, a flush of shame washing his already red face.
“The guy you just sent spinning into a rage was Mr. Larkin, the high school principal. The night Aaron got shot, he was dying to stay with him, to worry. Mom, remember when Dad got sick and you almost got us evicted because you didn’t remember to pay the bills? They shut t
he electricity off, repoed the car—”
“Yeah, honey,” Cheryl murmured, and Aaron knew the mortification on her cheeks for what it was. “I remember.”
“Larx left the hospital and found a kid lost in the snow. He faced off against her stepdad with a gun to get her back. And then he made sure Aaron was okay for the night and came and made sure we were okay. Not just us either. One of Aaron’s daughters, two guys who got caught in the crossfire that night and aren’t doing that well. He was taking care of the world—when all he really wanted to do was take care of his husband. So you guys, coming in here like your shit is the only shit in the world—that’s bad. It’s dumb. I don’t care if you’re the district assemblyman to the rest of the goddamned county, Dad—here, you’re nobody. And you’re not going to be anybody until you get your head out of your ass.”
“Elton!” his mother yelped, but Elton shook his head.
“Mom, that girl who just ran after her father? She’s carrying your grandbaby. You make sure he knows, he either acts decent or you two will never see that baby. Ever. And you’ll never see me again either. Now go.”
“Son—” Shawn McDaniels looked ready to parley. Aaron might have given him the benefit of the doubt.
“No.” Elton shook his head. “No. Just….” And for the first time he looked as young and as lost as Aaron had first seen him. “You hurt my family, Dad. You hurt people I care about by being a pompous ass. It’s going to take a while to forgive. Go find a hotel in town—I’m pretty sure Larx and Aaron would offer you a room, but they’ve got two houses full of people who deserve one more than you. Call me tomorrow.”
Elton’s eyes grew hard again, and he firmed up his lower lip. Aaron stood up to his full height so he could step in front of Elton.
“You heard him,” Aaron said, trying not to breathe too hard. “You need to leave, Assemblyman McDaniels.” The name vaguely rang a bell now—a district down south. Far, far away from Colton County.
McDaniels scowled, but his wife turned to him and gestured with her chin. “Shawn, if you fuck this up now, I’ll never forgive you.”
And for the first time, Aaron saw signs of redemption in the man. His face softened and he put his hand up, like he’d rest it on her shoulder.
