Food for the Soul (18 page)

“We’re fucking, but it doesn’t mean you get to rip me open and examine me.” Theo’s voice was hard as ice. “Why do you need to do this to me? Is this some sick obsession you have? Do you do this to the poor folks who come to your kitchen? Maybe it’s better it gets shut down to save them from having their dirty laundry dragged through the mud for all to see.”

Harper ignored his tone, ignored his anger and the vitriol he spoke. She placed her hands on his chest and smoothed her palms up and down his shirt, wordlessly willing him to be calm. She knew this was only the tip of the iceberg, but it was her turn to prove he wasn’t the only one with baggage.

“I met Callie three months after being thrown onto the street. I was starving, unable to take care of myself or find food. I thought death would be a better solution than living the way I had been, and I was too proud to call home and ask for help. I did things to survive that…” She sighed, letting them make their guesses, knowing they’d guess right. “Callie found me in Central Park. I’d found a dull razor in the trash and taken the blades out, had it against my skin when she stopped me. She convinced me to keep breathing for one more day, and then she turned living on the streets into an adventure. Yes, there were shit days—most days were shit of varying levels. But Christ, she made it better. She was my sister.” Harper clutched her shirt over her heart, where the pain of Callie’s death lived on and always would.

“Where is she now?” Theo asked, cupping her shoulders.

“Hit by a car. There were dangers and bad people looking to hurt kids like me living on the street, and a drunk driver hit her. The pointlessness of the whole thing made me wake up, see the world for what it was.” She framed Theo’s face, trying to keep smiling through the pain of memories. “All we have are the people around us, who love and support us. The way we live is what we bring with us into the hereafter. The way we love.” She glanced over at Flynn, leaning against a dresser with his arms crossed, his lips tight. He wouldn’t have wanted her to pry, but she couldn’t let Theo continue to simmer in his silent rage. Now she needed Flynn’s help, unifying them in this one thing. “Don’t keep your love from us because of all this.” She balled her fist up and pressed it against his chest. “I see it in your silence, how you keep away from others…to protect yourself. It’s okay to be scared.”

“I don’t know how to do this, to be with you both, to be the normal person you need me to be,” Theo said, clutching her shoulders hard now, his face twisted. “I
am
scared.”

Flynn came up behind Theo and rested his chin on Theo’s shoulder, wrapping his arm around the big guy’s waist. “Of what?”

“That my parents were right and I can’t trust you. Or that you’ll both leave like they did and I’ll be alone again.”

Harper rested her cheek against his chest and made a promise, to herself and to the men. “No matter what happens, we’ll always be here for you.”

“You can’t know that.”

“I know that I mean it now, and the now is all that matters.” She looked up at both of them. “I don’t want to know what my life would have been like without you both.” Her breath hitched. “I’ve become dependent on you, and the last time that happened with a person, she died for no reason. I know the fear you feel, Theo. I know it makes you angry and unwilling to share yourself with us, but we’ll never be truly together unless you share a little bit. Only a little, every now and then. Let us learn who you are. What your parents convinced you of is wrong, and it was a gross miscalculation on their part. Trust us. Please.”

Theo nodded, his hair rubbing against Flynn’s, silken and beautiful. He licked his full lips, then looked down at his feet, silent. His gaze went toward the ceiling, and he mouthed wordlessly, lost.

“You don’t have to say anything now,” Flynn said, brushing his lips against Theo’s neck. “We’ll learn each other in time, but know that you can trust us. We are here for you, always.”

Harper frowned up at him, unable to understand why Flynn was letting Theo keep himself bottled up. This wound needed to be opened, cleaned, and then resealed in order for it to heal properly. Was Flynn that blind to Theo’s pain, or did he not care for the inconvenience of a wounded lover? Did he think she was perfect?

Flynn gently pulled Theo’s head back until it rested on Flynn’s shoulder. “We’ll know you on your time, Theo. We’re trusting in you that you will trust in us. One day.” Flynn looked down at Harper as he said to Theo, “When you’re ready, we’ll be here.”

Harper didn’t think that giving Theo an unending amount of time would provide him with the kick in the butt he needed. But she had pushed enough that night and agreed to give Theo a rest.

FLYNN SQUEEZED THEO tight around his middle and gave him a sloppy, nibbling kiss. Theo turned around for a full-body hug. Flynn’s heart heated at the clear disorientation Theo was experiencing. He wanted to be honest with his new lovers, new friends, but was afraid of the consequences of showing his true self. Years of what sounded like mental coercion from his parents could have only left him scarred and confused.

What would someone who had spent the past few years completely alone and without any friends or companions to confide in be feeling? And there was Harper, pushing and pulling, making Theo think he was letting them down by keeping his secrets. Flynn was angry with Harper, and he could have screamed from the feeling bottled inside his chest, but he knew none of that would help Theo, still new to accepting his bisexuality, let alone showing his true self for the first time in years. It was too much too soon.

“I’m exhausted and ready for bed. What about you two?”

Theo pulled out of the hug and nodded, still without words. He scrubbed his hair with one hand until it was an endearing mess and smiled at the both of them, looking embarrassed. When he picked up his overnight bag and shuffled off to the master bathroom, Flynn turned to Harper, ready to give her a piece of his mind. But she was there meeting him eye for pissed-off eye.

“Why did you do that?” she asked in a whisper. Good. Flynn didn’t want Theo to overhear either. “We were making progress; he was opening up to us.”

“We are not his therapists, Harper. If Theo wants to keep his thoughts or feelings to himself, then that’s his choice.”

“And that’s enough for you? You don’t want more from him, more of yourself? If you don’t expect greater things from yourself, you’ll never achieve greatness.”

“This isn’t some fucking Olympic race, Harper. We aren’t the people at your soup kitchen who need that inspirational rhetoric. We are your boyfriends, not some lost souls in need of saving. Why don’t you try to focus on your own shit before trying to fix everyone around you?” Flynn couldn’t look at her stunned, hurt expression. He skirted around her and dashed out the door.

He was a dick for saying those things, but they needed to be said. Harper was losing her outlet to help people, and she was focusing all that energy on them. Yes, they were as fucked up as any normal person was, but that didn’t mean they needed saving.

Flynn found he’d marched himself into his office on the first floor. The room was a sanctuary, a place he sometimes stormed off to when he had an argument with his father. This wasn’t how the night was supposed to go. They should have been snuggled up together in his large bed, enjoying each other’s bodies or their company. Now he dreaded going back up there and facing Harper again. Maybe this had been a mistake.

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” Flynn asked Theo. “Where’s Harper?”

“Checking on Ben. We thought we heard something on the monitor.”

Well, now Flynn felt like an ass. He reams her, and then she goes to check and make sure his kid was all right.

“What did you say to her to make yourself pissed?”

“You’ll only get angry if I tell you, and I don’t need both my lovers annoyed with me in one night.” Flynn stood. “Let’s get to bed.”

“Don’t be mad at her for trying to wrangle emotion out of me.” Theo looked embarrassed. “She’s not completely wrong in how she went about it, but I did appreciate the surcease you gave.” He kissed Flynn lightly. “See? I need both of you to wake my cold heart.” Theo rested his forehead against Flynn’s. “It’s been asleep for a long time, and it hurts to rise.”

They went back to the bedroom holding hands, secure in one another and the relief an end to a long day could bring. The lights were dimmed in the bedroom, and Harper was resting under the covers on one side, looking small and tense. Her eyes were closed, but she wasn’t fooling anyone.

Flynn undressed until he was nude, paused a moment to watch Theo do the same, and then pulled the covers down off Harper. Before she could protest, he scooped his arms under her and carried her into the middle of the bed. She opened her mouth to speak, and Flynn covered it with his, kissing her until they were both breathless.

“Go to sleep,” he whispered, slipping under the covers and tugging her until she lay quiet against his chest. “We can yell and talk about everything later. I want to feel you both with me tonight.”

Theo came up on the other side of Harper and pushed his thigh between her legs, settling into a comfortable position with a deep sigh. She stared up at Flynn for a second before nodding. She pressed deep and sure against Flynn’s chest, and he fell asleep to the lull of his lovers’ breathing. They would talk tomorrow, and it would all be better.

Chapter Twelve

It was easy to find her way around Flynn’s kitchen the next morning, everything stored in a logical spot and with plenty of design flair. Harper again wondered who had their hand in helping design and furnish Flynn’s house. He said he worked hard on it, but to get it this perfect, there must have been a skilled designer involved. Had it been a woman? Had he been involved with that woman? Hell, it could have been a man. Harper snorted, thinking what a wonderful mess she was in. Living on the streets, she’d learned to be possessive of the few things she’d been able to call her own, and she’d protected those items with rage and the darkness that could grow inside a person when hunger and desperation were their waking friend.

Now she had two men she was quickly growing to love, and she had to ward off both men and women from them. Yes, what a mess. A wonderful, sexy, happy, and beautiful mess. She and Flynn may have gone to bed in an argument, putting their discussion on pause to sleep at ease, but she still wouldn’t trade her situation for the world, including the pain Flynn’s angry words had caused.

She hummed to herself as she got all the fixings out to make pancakes, some with chocolate chips or strawberries on top. She didn’t know what Ben liked for breakfast, but she had a keen desire to spoil him. Flynn probably wouldn’t be too happy with an unhealthy breakfast, but he couldn’t begrudge her one big and sugar-filled meal every now and then. They were celebrating, after all.

As Harper began to mix the batter, the back door that led off to the large backyard she’d yet to explore opened. A heavy tread came toward the kitchen, a slight shuffle from one of the feet giving the walk an odd and discordant cadence. She looked up as an older man stopped as he came around the corner. She smiled at him, not wanting to give him the impression that she was an intruder.

She was more than relieved she’d had the sense to throw on a pair of jeans under Flynn’s shirt she was wearing. A house with a grandparent and a small child was no place to be running around bare-assed, no matter how much she’d liked doing it at Theo’s.

“Good morning,” she said pleasantly. “Coffee is ready, and I’m heating up the griddle for some pancakes.”

The man eyed her warily. He was as tall as Flynn, if not taller, with the same green eyes and tanned skin. His hair had clearly been a dark blond but was now showing the signs of age with half of the strands painted gray and white. He would have been as attractive in his youth as Flynn was. Before last night, Harper could never have imagined Flynn with such a forbidding frown. She put that thought out of her mind, reluctant to recall the ugly words he’d yelled at her.

“Where’s Ben?” was all he replied with. His voice was full of gravel, as though he’d spent his entire life yelling until he was hoarse.

Harper ignored the tone of his short response and continued to stir the batter. “I checked in on him about twenty minutes ago. He was still asleep. I’ll wake him once breakfast is ready. Can I pour you a cup of coffee?” Harper wasn’t one to play the domestic type with a man who, from what she’d gleaned from Flynn, hated those who were what he considered abnormal. Bigots weren’t exactly friendly breakfast partners. But this was Flynn’s father, and if she could help make him see that all Flynn was doing was living his life and loving those he wanted to love, then she would do a bit of acting and pretend to be a happy Susie Homemaker.

The man nodded. “Sweet, and there’s some of that almond milk in the fridge.”

She didn’t know what to call him. She supposed introductions would be prudent. “I’m Harper,” she said as she poured the hot liquid into a large cup labeled World’s Greatest Grandpa. She placed the cup in front of him, then followed it with a cup of sugar, the almond milk, and a small teaspoon. She would pour him a cup, but he could damn well fix it how he liked it himself.

“Call me Mitchell,” he said, not seeming to care that she hadn’t completed his order.

“Mitchell, Ben speaks of you often.”

That got a small grin out of the man. “He’s a good kid, will grow up to be a strong and smart man. That kid is the best thing that’s happened to me in a long while.”

She’d turned back to the griddle as he spoke and began to cook the pancakes. “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. His father is a strong and smart man.”

“Yeah…”

Harper cut him off before he could say anything that would piss her off. “I mean, think about all that he’s accomplished in his life. Putting himself through college, in an economy that was on a steady decline, ensuring his family is taken care of, and then taking in a surprise son! Not many men would do that, Mitchell. If they had money, they would pay for the child to go away, and if they didn’t have money, they would throw the kid out on the street.”