Friends and Lovers (9 page)

‘Catherine has been begging for riding lessons...’ And he’d had a friend who was willing to give Jack a break on the cost if he’d do some repairs on her stable.

‘The bitch finally overplayed her hand! Jack’s divorcing her!’

James didn’t ask Tom if he was happy about that because it meant his friend was free of the gold-digging, self-centered bitch, or because it meant his friend was free.

Jack came back into the room carrying a bag with the logo of the Mom-and-Pop pharmacy on it. “Tom’s prescription.” He set it on the counter.

“Why don’t you talk to me about what happened tonight?” For a second, James thought Jack would refuse, but then he nodded and sat down again.

“Y’know something?” Jack’s eyes were tired. “My daddy is a preacher. I was raised to turn the other cheek. I’ve never hit anyone.”

“What, no one?”

“Take a look at me. I’d cream whoever I took a swing at. And now, here I go punching the one man who’s always meant...” He started to raise his coffee cup to his mouth, but winced and set it down.

“What’s wrong?” James had noticed the stiffness as he’d watched Jack eat, but now it seemed Jack was in obvious discomfort.

“I don’t know. My shoulder feels…”

“Let me take a look at it.”

Jack unbuttoned his shirt and eased it off his shoulder.  “What the…”

“That’s going to be an interesting shade of purple in the morning.”

“How… Oh. Tom hit me. I was so pissed, I didn’t even feel it.”

“Tom did that? Well, a couple of Tylenol should ease the soreness. Looks to me like he got in a pretty good shot. I’m not surprised, although I am surprised he didn’t take you down.”

“Are you kidding?” Jack eased his arm back into the shirt, leaving it unbuttoned. “It can’t have escaped your notice that I’m a pretty big guy. Shoot, Doc. I’ve got at least eight inches on Tom, and I outweigh him by at least fifty pounds.”

James raised an eyebrow. “You’ve never seen Tom fight, have you?”

“No. Why would I?”

“No reason, I guess. And I don’t suppose he told you about that little incident down in Tallahassee?”

“He’s talked about his grandpa, but otherwise, he hasn’t said much about what he did away from home.”

“Get him to tell you about it sometime. When he can talk again, that is. Just let me say that he can take care of himself.”

Jack frowned, as if he didn’t like James knowing something about his best friend that he didn’t know, and James swallowed his grin.
Tom, I think I see a happy ending for you, if you don’t screw it up.

“So what happened?”

“He wasn’t home when I came by earlier, and I decided it would be a good idea to pick up some groceries. The door wasn’t locked when I got back, so I let myself in, put the bags in the kitchen, and went to find him.” He sighed. “He came out of the bathroom looking good enough to eat, and I was thinking maybe we’d have time for a quickie before dinner. I thought Tom was happy to see me, but then he…”

“I can guess, knowing Tom.” James leaned back in his chair. “He wasn’t expecting you to turn up tonight, was he?”

“I don’t know why not. I did tell him this morning I’d see him later.”

“The thing is, Tom isn’t a morning person. He probably had no memory of it.”

“I guess.” Jack shrugged. “He told me to go home – he was going out to dinner, and then he was gonna find someone and… and bring him back to the… to the bedroom where we’d… where we’d…”

James looked away, pretending he hadn’t seen the brightness in Jack’s eyes. “And that was when you hit him?”

Jack cleared his throat. “Yeah. I lost my temper. I never… Tom will never forgive me for this.”

“You don’t think?”

He gave an unhappy laugh. “What guy wants a… a boyfriend who blows up and punches him?”

“When you put it like that… no one who’s playing with a full deck. But Jack… Tom didn’t lock the door. And trust me, he didn’t hit you as hard as he could have. If he had...” James leaned his elbows on the table and studied the man before him. “I think he was glad, deep down, that you came back. I think he was hoping you would.” And James was pretty sure the fact that he was so happy to see Jack scared him shitless. He looked at his watch. “I’ve got to get going. I’ll let the department know Tom will be out for a few days. Call his mother tomorrow…”

“No, that’s okay, I’ll stay with him. I haven’t had a vacation in a while, and I have a foreman who’ll keep things going. Besides, there isn’t anything that can’t wait until Tom’s able to go back to work.”

“Taking care of Tom when he isn’t feeling well is not a fun task, my friend. I speak from experience,” he added innocently, pleased when Jack scowled at him.

“I don’t mind. He’d do it for me.”

“All right.” James rose to his feet. “You have my phone number. Call if you have any problems, although I don’t foresee any.”

“Thanks very much, James. For coming here. For listening to me yammer on.”

“Glad I could be of some help. I think you’ll be good for Tom. He’s been alone for a very long time.”

“What are you talking about? He’s the most popular guy I know. He’s got a new guy every…”

“But he doesn’t have a lot of friends, Jack. And he only has one best friend.”

“Me?” Jack’s eyes lit up.

“You.” James patted the shoulder that wasn’t sore, picked up his medical bag, and dug his car keys out of his pocket. “Goodnight, Jack.”

“’Night, James.”

Funny how it seems I always wind up here with you…
  Karen Carpenter

Jack closed the door behind the doctor, but not before he’d seen a curtain in the house next door twitch. He sighed. Tom wasn’t going to be happy that Mrs. Wiggins had been witness to the late-night activity going on in his house.

What a night.

Oh, well. He’d worry about the nosy woman the next morning.

He went to check on his friend. Tom was frowning in his sleep, and Jack sat beside him, stroking his hair and shoulder. “It’s okay, buddy.”

“Jack?”

“Yeah. It’s me.”

Tom opened his eyes. They were foggy from the drug. “Sorry…”

“I didn’t mean to wake you. Let me make you a little more comfortable, then you can go back to sleep.” Jack helped his friend sit up, enjoying the muscular feel of him in his arms, more so than he’d enjoyed the softness of a woman, he realized. He turned the pillow, gave it a thump, and started to ease Tom back down, but Tom held onto his arms.

“Stayin’?”

“Yeah, I’m staying.”

“Glad.” Tom sighed.

“Me, too.”

“Sleep now.” He relaxed into Jack’s arms.

“Okay. You go on back to sleep, buddy.” Jack lowered him to the pillow and brushed a kiss across his forehead. “I’m gonna lock up the house, take a shower, and bring that big old armchair in here. I won’t be more than three feet away from you if you need me.”

“Always need you. Jack.” Tom patted the bed beside him. “Sleep here.”

“Are you sure?”

“’m sure.” And now Tom patted the bare expanse of skin exposed by Jack’s open shirt. He mumbled something Jack had no trouble translating.

“I won’t leave you, buddy.” He waited until his friend’s breathing had smoothed out into sleep. “I’ll be here in the morning. It’s gonna take more than you getting sore and pitching a fit to force me out of your life. I love you, Tommy. I’ll always love you.”

Maybe one day he’d even be able to say that when his best friend was awake.

Jack pulled the sheet up so Tom wouldn’t get chilled, then went to lock up the house.

Tom Hansom was busy at the stove frying up chicken for dinner when someone rang his doorbell. “Now, who can that be, I wonder?” he asked himself, grinning.

He knew who it was at the door.

Still, he made a production of turning down the flame under the frying pan and wiping his hands on a dish towel before he strolled to the door. He moved aside the curtain that covered the window in the door and peered out. Then he opened the door.

“As Ah live an’ breathe!” he declared, thickening his Georgia accent. “If it ain’t Jack Sweet, an’ in the flesh! What can Ah do for you, Mistah Sweet?”

The smile that warmed Jack’s blue eyes made Tom want to strip off all his clothes. Who would have thought he’d ever be willing to bottom for anyone?

Jack tipped back a non-existent hat with his thumb. “Afternoon, there, Mistah Hansom. Ah hope Ah haven’t caught y’all at an inconvenient moment?”

“Not at all, not at all. Come right on in an’ rest a spell.”

“Thank you kindly, suh.”

As soon as Jack was in the kitchen, Tom shoved the door shut and reached for him, not even giving him a chance to take off his jacket.

A couple of times during the week he’d awakened to find himself reaching for Jack. Tom loved having him as his lover, but he loved him as his friend too, and he wasn’t willing to lose that. He’d insisted, and Jack had agreed, that they only see each other on the weekend. The only thing that had kept him from calling Jack had been that he’d see himself as a candy-ass. That, plus the knowledge that the weekend was on its way, and he could stick it out a few more days.

“God, I missed you, buddy!” He pulled Jack’s head down and kissed him, licking and biting at his lips until they parted for him, and then slipping his tongue into Jack’s mouth.

Jack’s hands were on his ass, kneading the taut muscle, and he rotated his hips, the motion bringing their cocks into contact, separated only by the material of their jeans and shorts. The soft sounds of their excitement – whimpers, gasps, moans – filled the small kitchen.

They were both breathless by the time they broke the kiss.

Jack didn’t let him go though. He rested his cheek against Tom’s hair and sighed. “I’ve missed you too, babe.”

Tom held onto Jack a bit longer, then dropped his arms and stepped back. “You’re staying for dinner, right?” He went to the stove, poked at the chicken in the pan, and turned up the flame.

“Do you have enough? I don’t want to put you out.”

“Asshole. I’ll always have enough for you.” Even if he himself had to go short.

“Thanks. I was hoping you’d ask.”

“There’s some wine in the fridge. Pour yourself a glass, why don’t you?” Tom already had one on the counter by the stove.

He turned over the chicken, which was browning nicely, and dredged more pieces in flour.

Jack removed his jacket and hung it from a hook by the door. When he opened the fridge, he started laughing. “Manischewitz?”

“Hey, I’m Jewish. And you’re a redneck wine snob!”

“Pax, pax!” Still laughing, Jack poured himself a glass of the sweet red wine and took a long swallow. He sighed again, but this one was satisfied. “I needed that.”

“Even though it’s Manischewitz?”

“Yeah, even though it’s Manischewitz.”

Tom studied at him carefully. Jack looked a little worn. “Bad week?”

“Bitch of a week.”

“Sit down and tell me about it, Jack. What was it, work or family?”

He sat, rotating the glass between his palms. “A bit of both. Reba’s been hassling me about Teddy and Cath sleeping in the same room when they stay with me.”

“What are you going to do?” Tom didn’t know Jack’s kids well; he’d been to some of Theodore’s Little League games and to his graduation from elementary school, and he’d gone to a couple of horse shows where he’d watched Catherine take jumps that had his heart in his mouth – the jumps had been so huge, and she’d been so tiny – but he was willing to swear that whatever their mother, sanctimonious prig that she was, thought they might do was actually the last thing in the world they
would
do.

Still, he couldn’t forget that Jack had once chosen her over him, and so he tried to make a point of never saying anything bad about her. Most times he even succeeded.

“I’ve been giving it some thought. My bedroom is the largest in the house. I’ll make it into two smaller rooms and let the kids have them, and I’ll take the room they’re using.”

“You’re a good father, Jack.” Tom could see he was uncomfortable with the praise. “You are. My father would sooner…” His mouth tightened. “Well, never mind about him. Do you need any help?”

Jack smiled at him. “Tommy, I love you, but you are not coming anywhere near my house with a hammer.”

“Hey!” But Tom laughed. He knew Jack was aware he wasn’t too handy with tools.

Jack took another sip of wine and grimaced at the sweet taste. “I should have brought something.”

“You didn’t know what I was going to make.”

“I could have brought a red and a white.”

“You could have. And I could have told you I didn’t have enough for two, and you’d have had to go home with two bottles of wine.”

“Yeah, sure, like you would turn me away.”

Jack was looking around the kitchen, so he didn’t see Tom’s reaction to that. No, he would never turn his best friend away. Never.