“You’re not funny, Nathan. I want Keith to check you out to make sure you haven’t done any damage with your prize-fighter routine. If I have to take you back to the hospital to have that arm re-set, I’m going to ask the doctor to put you in a full body cast. That’s about the only way I can keep you out of trouble.” He grabbed the hem of Nate’s t-shirt and tugged it over his head, working it over his broken arm.
“You aren’t really mad at me, are you?” His voice was muffled through the fabric of his shirt. “I couldn’t just stand there and let him insult you and Amy like that. He had it coming.”
Brandon laid the t-shirt on the table and moved back so Keith could begin the examination. “He may have had it coming, but you didn’t have to be the one to give it to him. I’ve spent all afternoon trying to figure out ways to keep you safe. I’m not about to let you undo all that by tearing out your stitches and bleeding to death.”
It was Nate’s turn to snort. “There’s nothing to hold against you. You were sick, Brandon. Most people wouldn’t have fared as well as you did. Kyle was your friend. Loosing him the way you did must have been a nightmare.”
Nate wanted desperately to erase the uncertainty he saw on Brandon’s face. “It wasn’t on the report, but I didn’t need it to be. You told me about all of your serious relationships. If you and Kyle had been anything more than friends, you would have told me. I trust you, Bran.”
Nate listened as Bran told them about his meeting with Howard and gave them the details on Wilson. When Brandon was done, he said, “Why would a professional hit-man be after me? I don’t have any ties to organized crime.”
Nate was adamant. “No way. I know the guy can be a pain, but he loves me somewhere deep inside. Very deep inside. Besides, why go to all the trouble of moving me up here and helping cement the partnership with Amy? I made Amy the beneficiary of my trust the day after my parents dumped me. If Mike wanted to off me for my money, he’s literally had years to do it.”
Nate sighed. “Basically the same thing that happened tonight. Amy and I have been friends since grade-school. All through high-school and the first year of college, it was just the two of us. She rarely dated, and I didn’t date at all. She met Mike right at the end of our sophomore year. They hit it off, but Mike wasn’t too crazy about his girlfriend having a guy for a best friend. One night, they got into an argument about the amount of time she spent with me, and Mike told her she had to choose between us. She dumped him and called me. When I got to her apartment, she was a mess. I cleaned her up, took out a couple of quarts of mint-chocolate-chip ice cream, and let her cry on my shoulder. At one point, she crawled into my lap so I could hold her while she cried. That was when Mike walked in and saw her curled up in my arms.”
“He certainly wasn’t pleased. He started hurling wild accusations like he did tonight. He even said the whole gay thing was just a cover to get into Amy’s pants. It was when he called her a slut that I knocked two of his teeth out.” Nate went to the cabinet and grabbed some aspirin. “I’d have knocked out a couple tonight, too, if I hadn’t been fighting handicapped.” He filled a glass of water from the tap and downed the pills. “That still doesn’t prove anything. After that night, Mike and I actually became friends. He and I have a friendship separate from mine and Amy’s, too. Lots of times we have ‘guys’ night out’ with just the two of us. If he wanted me out of the picture, he’s hand ample opportunity. Why now?”
“He certainly wouldn’t put on sackcloth and ashes if I bought it tomorrow, but I just don’t believe he’s behind all this. See, everything with my father is a matter of honor. His honor was insulted when I decided not to go into the family business. His dignity was impugned when I announced to the world that I was gay. His sense of righteousness took a beating when I refused to crawl back to him and beg forgiveness for being born unworthy of the Morris name. My father would be more likely to challenge me to a duel on the courthouse lawn than to put out a contact on my life.”
“I thought you said Mr. Morris was cleared. You let him go, after all.”
Keith took a healthy swig of coffee. “Not to be a jackass, but shouldn’t Seth be on that list? Does it seem strange to anyone else that he showed up at the exact same time that all this started happening, or is it just me?”
Brandon walked over to the counter where Nate was leaning and caged him with his arms, his body pressed tight against him. Nate could feel the heat through his clothes and did his best not to get hard with his in-laws looking-on. Bran leaned down until his forehead was touching Nate’s and said, “I trust him as far as I’m going to. For what it’s worth, I don’t think he’s the one, but I’ll be damned before I get sloppy and make a mistake that might cost me my life.”
Gale took Megan by one hand and Keith by the other. “I think it’s time for us to leave.” She dragged them to the door. “Take care, boys.” Neither responded, too wrapped up in each other to hear the door open and close. Sasha came in as Gale and the others left, but gave up trying to get her masters’ attention and lumbered off to bed. Nate wasn’t sure how long they stood there just holding each other, but it was Brandon who finally broke the silence.
“You would never hurt me, Bran.” Nate kissed a spot just below his jaw. “Of all the people in my life, you’re the one I know I can always count on. Maybe we haven’t said the vows yet, but in my heart, we’re already married.”
Nate cleared his throat. It was now or never. “I agree with you about the cast, but you’re wrong about the stitches. Actually, I don’t have any stitches. I didn’t tell you about my appointment today because I wasn’t scheduled to go in until tomorrow. Dr. Rinehart had a cancellation this afternoon and called to see if I wanted to come on in. he said my cast can come off in about four more weeks, and then he took out all my sutures. See, even the ones in my head are gone.”
Brandon bent down for closer examination. “How come I didn’t notice that when I took your shirt off? You had at least ten from the surgical incision alone.”
“Eight, to be precise. Dr. Lincoln may be a dick, but he’s a damn good surgeon. The incision was so small and neat, I doubt I’ll even have a scar. Dr. Rinehart said all my wounds were practically healed. I can even go back to work the first of next week, albeit one handed. I guess you didn’t notice the stitches were gone because you were too busy threatening to arrest me.”
He left Nate to go upstairs and shower while he ran to the store. Having been celibate for almost four years, he wasn’t exactly prepared. He decided to go to one of the chain drugstores rather than Simpson’s, the one he normally used. Mr. and Mrs. Simpson were old family friends who wouldn’t hesitate to tell the entire Nash clan that their second oldest son was about to get laid.
He pulled into the parking lot of Savings Central Drugs and got out, scanning for anyone he might know. He knew he was being ridiculous. The entire town already thought he and Nate were sleeping together, anyway. For some reason, though, he wanted to keep tonight private. Some things were just too special to share.
Since condoms weren’t necessary, Brandon headed straight for the lubricants. He probably could have made do with the lotion he had at home, but he didn’t want just anything coming in contact with Nate’s tender skin. Nate might be sore tomorrow, but Brandon wanted to make sure it was a good soreness, if there was such a thing.
Brandon stared at the bottles and tubes in mute wonder. Who would have thought there were so many different kinds? He picked up bottle after bottle and tube after tube, trying to read them without being conspicuous. He knew his efforts to blend in had failed when he felt someone come up behind him.
Brandon turned around and came face to face with Dillon, Megan’s would-be boyfriend. He started to speak and then realized he was holding a bottle of something called
Slick and Slippery Intimate Moisturizer
in his hand. He put it back, but it was too late.
Brandon took a moment to look at the guy his sister was interested in. Dillon was tall, almost six feet, and probably still growing. His shaggy brown hair was cut in that permanently messy style that kids seemed to like, and his green eyes were flashing with amusement over Brandon’s discomfort. He decided to turn the tables.
He was rewarded by the flush that crept into Dillon’s cheeks. “Yeah, uh, sure sheriff, but I really need to get back to work. Some other time, man.” Before he knew it, Brandon was looking at his retreating back.
That was too easy. He went back to his shopping. Finally he decided on a tube of good old fashioned KY Jelly. When in doubt, go with what you know. The only problem now was, which size? He disregarded the smaller tube. Maybe he was being optimistic, but hey, might as well think positive. If he bought the economy size, Nate might be freaked out, afraid Brandon was planning on chaining him to the mattress for the next two months. Then again, if he bought the medium size, Nate might take that as hesitancy to begin the sexual side of their relationship. Fuck it. He picked up the jumbo size and headed to the counter.