Blackbird Knitting in a Bunny's Lair (22 page)

Craw and Ben were in the room upstairs.

Jeremy was never sure if they heard the two of them or not, but when Aiden’s mouth sucked hot and wet over his swollen body, pulling hard enough for Jeremy’s vision to spark like magnesium in the dark, he was pretty sure he could be heard on the moon.

“I
LOOK
okay?” Jeremy asked for the sixty-eleventh time.

“Do you want a bow tie? A tuxedo? You’ve got two good shirts, Jeremy—that’s one of ’em, and your new jeans. And your newest sweater—”

“And the scarf you made me,” Jeremy told him earnestly. “You know, to keep me safe.”

Aiden smiled crookedly, the need for that scarf always a little close to his heart. “It’s an awful lot of gear to drive to the pub,” he muttered, but not too loud.

They’d gotten home early that morning, tended the animals, and made ready for work. Jeremy had dressed in his best stuff and slicked his hair back, which he hadn’t done for months, and mumbled something about going to the pub after work.

Aiden wasn’t going to say a word against him.

“Yeah, well, you know what ‘con’ stands for,” Jeremy said, his mouth set grimly.

“Confidence,” Aiden filled in. “Yeah, Jer. Got it.”

“I got the magic scarf, I got the girls depending on me, and I got Craw, who’d rather spit than talk to someone who wasn’t being square with us. I can do this.”

Aiden nodded and then did what he swore he wasn’t going to do. “Want me to come with you? I can drop you off on the way back and work a little later.”

The tight lines bracketing Jeremy’s mouth and pulling his scars tight eased up a little. “Could you?” he asked, sounding so very young.

“Yeah. No worries. I’ll even—”

“No.” Jeremy shook his head. “You wait in the car, okay? Or in the foyer. Or just don’t talk. I can do this myself.” His mouth twitched then, almost like a smile but way too tense. “It’ll just be nice if you’re there.”

Aiden nodded and went to tell Craw he’d be back in an hour.

Craw was working the blower, which was like a shower cubicle with a giant fan that blew the washed fleece dry. The thing was damned loud, and he turned it off in the middle of a cycle when Aiden tapped his ear coverings to talk.

He had to yell to make himself heard.

“You taking Jeremy to the pub?” Craw shouted over the whirring apparently still going on in his own head.

Aiden nodded. “Yeah,” he shouted back. “If this works, he’s gonna get started on the publicity and the newspaper and the fliers and stuff.”

Craw nodded. “Take the rest of the afternoon!” he hollered. Then: “Rich! Get off your ass and get over here and run this thing. I’ve got some other shit to do!”

“We’ll be back in time to feed the stock,” Aiden bellowed.

Craw hesitated, but then he nodded. “Don’t knock yourself out if you can’t make it back. Text me. This is worth it.”

Aiden nodded, thinking that he
hoped
they got back in time. Jeremy would surely need to feed the stock after an afternoon like this one promised to be.

T
HE
PUB
was an unprepossessing little structure at the end of a strip mall on the highway that separated Granby from Grand. It wasn’t a tourist place—it was local—and tourists might suspect it was a bar. It was and it wasn’t. Yeah, it served a lot of beer and a lot of cheap whiskey, but it also served the town’s best burger and some German fries that were truly outstanding. Families frequented the pub, and soccer teams after games, and after their home games, the entire high school football team came in to shoot pool and drink soda and not get drunk or in trouble while they were either celebrating or commiserating. The windows were covered with wooden shutters; the interior was smokeless now but you could tell it didn’t use to be, and the furniture was basic veneered wood. There was a bank of video games in the corner that was
almost
current, a short table with wooden games on it for preschoolers, and a small platform at the end of the big room where a band could set up stage.

The pub—for all that it didn’t really have a name or a sign—was sort of an unspoken institution.

As Aiden and Jeremy walked up through the unmarked door into the sunless interior, Jeremy looked around.

“You reckon if this works, they’ll lift the shutters up?” he asked tentatively, and Aiden shrugged.

“Don’t see why not,” he said, seeing how that would be a deal breaker. Jeremy was probably thinking about a benefit for a baby being held someplace with a little light. That might not be a bad idea.

But first they had to ask.

Jeremy smiled at the waitress, someone Aiden knew by sight but not by name.

“Hiya, Eileen!” Jeremy said pleasantly, like seeing a friendly face had put him right at ease. “You wouldn’t know if Junior’s around, would you?”

Eileen was in her thirties and had been a real stunner when she was young. What was left was the sort of tired prettiness that good bone structure and single motherhood could give you, but she sure did have a nice smile when someone was nice to her.

“Yeah, Jeremy, he’s right around back.” She blinked as though remembering something, and her smile got a few degrees warmer. Turning, she set down her tray full of dirty glasses and said, “But first let me give you a hug back, okay? You haven’t been around since you came home, and we have
missed
you here!”

Jeremy accepted her hug, and Aiden could see the look on his face over her shoulder.

He was stunned, and his eyes got bright and shiny as he wrapped his arms around someone skinnier than he was.

“Thanks,” he said as she pulled back. He looked down and muttered, “Wasn’t real sure of my welcome, honestly.”

Eileen looked up at Aiden over his shoulder and smiled nervously at him. Aiden smiled back—at least he thought he smiled, but it probably looked a little scarier than a smile given the way she jerked her glance back to Jeremy.

“Oh, hon,” she said softly. “We always knew you had a torch for Aiden—that’s no big news.”

“Oh Lord,” Aiden said, trying not to roll his eyes and failing.

It didn’t matter. Neither of them saw him.

Jeremy’s shoulders twitched and he gave her a shy smile. “That’s not the part I was worried about, honestly,” he said, and even in the crappy light from the faux Tiffany lamps, Aiden could see his cheeks washing pink around the scarring.

Eileen’s mouth parted softly, and she nodded. “Well,” she said, looking sober, “this is a bar, Jeremy. I mean, it’s a good bar, but there’s a whole lot of people who come in here every day who do things they’re not proud of. You were done with all of that—the papers said so, and you ain’t done a thing since that makes us not believe them. At least here. So don’t worry about it none, ’kay?”

Jeremy nodded, and the smile he gave back to her was steady and firm. “Well, I appreciate that,” he said, sincerity ringing in every word. “Now where was Junior again?”

They followed her directions through the kitchen and out to the back, and Aiden strode by Jeremy’s side, reassessing the way he’d thought when he and Jeremy had first met—when he’d been a kid, really.

Jeremy had ingratiated himself to Eileen much like he had to almost any woman he’d talked to before the beating. For the first time, Aiden realized that the sort of pathological charm he’d pulled out of his ear when talking to a girl wasn’t all varnish. Maybe Jeremy didn’t even realize it, but he
cared
for this girl, for her good opinion, just like he cared for Aiden’s mom’s good opinion, and his younger sister’s good opinion, and that holy grail of all good opinions, Ariadne’s.

Well, hell.

Aiden already knew Jeremy had never had a mother or a sister, but now Aiden could see how he tried to make the whole world his family—right before he ran away. For a moment Aiden wanted to wrap that scarf around his neck twice to keep him insulated from any bad opinion that might come his way—and then he looked at his lover walking purposefully at his side and had a most wonderful realization.

Jeremy was really a much stronger person than any of them had given him credit for. It was hard to remember past all that worry, but what he was doing now, naked of artifice, asking people for help for a friend?

This was a tremendous gift he was giving Ariadne and her family.

“Stay here,” Jeremy said quietly, his voice firm, and he left Aiden at one of the smaller tables near the hallway to the restrooms and the manager’s office. He stumped away, determined, and risked one last look over his shoulder before he knocked on the door to the office. Aiden almost ran after him, but he didn’t. He’d seen Jeremy turn on that con-man’s charm. He’d
seen
him get people to think that what Jeremy wanted was really the best idea all around.

Jeremy could do this. Aiden couldn’t. Aiden pissed people off and he really didn’t care, but
Jeremy
—it was like the only reason Jeremy existed on this earth was to provide for this baby. Aiden’s only job was to stand there and have faith.

I
T
TOOK
half an hour.

For half an hour, Aiden sat at an empty table, drank a soda, and worked on their blanket. The third time Eileen brought him a refill, she asked him what he was working on, and he did his part and told her.

“A raffle and a party?” she said excitedly. “Sort of a benefit? That would be amazing—Ariadne’s something special, you know? I mean, I’ve got to take care of my mom too, and she’s so patient with her in the store! Mom likes Jeremy too—this would really make her happy.”

Aiden smiled a little, relaxing in spite of himself. “Well, Jeremy’s pounding out details right now,” he said. “And then we’re going to my mom’s house to talk my sister into helping with publicity. We want it all over Granby, all over Grand, and we’re talking to the store in Boulder to see if we can have a sister event.”

Eileen’s face lit up. “Oh, Boulder even? That’s pretty amazing—” She stopped and put her hand over her mouth and then turned to the back door of the pub, where there was a clatter of people and equipment.

“Oh my God! Aiden! You know what? We could even get you some live music!”

“Wait!” he said with a sinking heart, because oh crap, he knew who this was. Hell, he’d even told Jeremy and Ben he’d ask.

He just hadn’t been ready for them to be here
right now
.

“Eileen, hon, we don’t need—”

“Aiden?”

Oh God. He knew that voice. He knew the deep rasp of it, which could
sound
damned sexy onstage, and he knew the truth of it, which was the gangly, dorky asshole currently trotting across the pub, knocking the two patrons actually there this time of day in the back of the head with a guitar case.

“
Aiden
!” the boy shouted, his excitement probably vibrating through the walls to the little sushi place next door.

Aiden stood up and tried not to roll his eyes, readying himself to be engulfed in an awkward, life-threatening hug from the first guy he’d ever kissed and the only guy whose heart he’d ever broken.

“Hi, Elias,” he said with resignation, shaking strawberry-gold curls out of his mouth.

Elias Fortenberry pulled back and grinned, his blue eyes merry and no older than they’d been three and a half years before. “Aiden, man! It’s good to see you! We haven’t seen each other since, what? Graduation?”

Aiden fixed him with a steady glare. “Yup,” he said, challenging Eli to make a big thing of the last time they’d seen each other. “’Bout then.”

Eli didn’t even have the grace to look embarrassed. “Yeah, well, you were pretty pissed at me, but that’s no worries. How’s your guy?” Suddenly that obnoxious, puppyish enthusiasm quieted down a little, and Aiden almost remembered why he’d spent a little bit of time crushing on Eli. “I mean, everyone was really sad to hear what happened to him, Aiden. He’s going to be okay, right?”

Aiden smiled then, the genuine article, and nodded. “He’s in the office right now, asking Junior if we can use the pub to hold a benefit for Ariadne.” He took a breath and prepared himself to spill someone else’s business in front of an old frenemy. “Her new baby’s gonna need some surgeries and whatnot for her first two years. Even with health insurance, that’s some serious money.”

Eli nodded with equally serious intent. “Oh! So a charity thing? That’s awesome! Can we play for it? I mean”—he looked behind him at the other guys Aiden had known in high school, who were setting up for the evening crowd—“I think the guys would go for it. Everyone knows the mill, right, and what happened to Jeremy and all. I think they’d love to give Ariadne a hand.”

Oh hell. Aiden wanted to tell him to fuck off, but he couldn’t, and not just because he’d already told Jeremy he’d
ask
him to do this very thing. Three and a half years ago, he’d had a little crush and Eli had made out with him behind the school bleachers and then gone to homecoming with a girl he’d knocked up. They hadn’t stayed together—whatever Eli had been trying to prove by fucking around with Aiden’s affections, being straight didn’t seem to be it—but the betrayal remained.

But that didn’t change the fact that Eli hadn’t been enough for Aiden to come out.

No. Aiden had come out (to his parents, at least) the week after Jeremy had moved to Craw’s farm, and even if they hadn’t believed him about Jeremy then, he’d known it in his bones. It was worth the suspension from school for fighting, and it was worth the worried way his folks had looked at him for a while.

Jeremy had been worth it.

And Jeremy was worth swallowing his pride now.

“That would be really awesome,” Aiden said, shaking Eli’s hand with a great deal of firmness. Eli’s fingers were still long and artistic, and his grip was still sensual and firm.

But it didn’t do anything for Aiden. Maybe with the divorce and the child support and having to work two jobs to support his beloved band, Eli would grow up enough to find what he wanted.

But right now, Aiden knew what
he
wanted.