Promise Rock 03 - Living Promises (MM) (23 page)

Jeff sniffed to cover a sympathetic wince and then pushed back on Crick's damaged wrist, knowing it was going to hurt, but also knowing Crick needed it.

“As if she'd have you,” was what he said. “That woman has better taste in men. Now squeeze my hand. Come on, boy, squeeze it….” Jeff barked at him some more and twisted him and finished with the ultrasonic deep tissue thing, because it was going to help with the soreness. When he was done, he handed Crick an ibuprofen, a cup of water, and a tissue.

Crick wiped his forehead and his eyes and glared wearily at him while Jeff tried not to feel guilty. It was his job, but he didn't always like it.

“You're not doing your exercises,” Jeff said to counter the guilt. “You've lost mobility in that hand in the last week—what the hell have you been doing with yourself?”

Crick sighed and pitched the tissue into the trashcan with his good hand, then took the pain med and washed it down. “Deacon's doing worse,” he said softly, picking up his shirt and trying to shrug into it.

“I know,” Jeff said quietly. “I was there last night.”

Deacon had tried hard not to let anyone see, but it was pretty clear that he'd been doing a good job of covering until the week before. His lips had been an unhealthy color, and he'd been unable to stand up and carry Parry Angel to her bath. Instead, he'd sat on the couch—an unusual thing for him—and let the little girl scramble into his lap.

Jeff didn't even want to think about the ruin of broken syllables his singing voice had become. Jon had left the house, hearing it, and Amy had gone after him, and Jeff had perched their daughter on Deacon's lap so she could join in with nonsense words.

Shane and Mikhail had worked impassively on the cleanup while Andrew had gone outside to tend the horses, and Crick had come in and spirited the little girls off to their bath. When Jon and Amy came back in, Amy announced that Parry Angel was going to spend the night with Lila, and when Crick had heard this, he had looked so…
relieved.

“You're not taking care of yourself,” Jeff said seriously now. “You're too busy taking care of everybody else. You need to knock that shit off right now, okay? If the worst happens, we need you, and we need the best you that you can be.”

Crick nodded and worried his shirt buttons in one at a time. “I hear you. I used to wonder how Deacon could do it, you know? Work himself into the ground when we needed him so damned bad? Now I know. It's like, the people that are your heart? You can't take a deep breath if they're not well.”

Jeff made some perfunctory notations in Crick's chart and gestured for him to sit down on the bed he usually had patients lay down on. He always reserved fifteen extra minutes for Crick—why have a GBFF if you weren't going to dish, right?

“When's Benny coming home?” he asked. It had been clear in the last week that even with Andrew, Crick needed help. Between the active little girl, the sick man, and the demands of the ranch, the two men were spread thin. If it hadn't been for the kids at Promise House coming over to work with the horses and Jon and Amy coming over to help with the cooking every so often, Jeff wasn't sure how the small business could have made it, even in the last month, and he found himself sweating bullets again for the tight-knit, sturdy family of Deacon Winters. God, money had been so close before. They had come so close to picking up and moving, and Jeff would have needed to move with them, because he'd already fabricated a family out of need and good wishes, and he didn't think he could fabricate another one.

“Wednesday,” Crick said, apparent relief on his face. “If you and Martin wanted to come on Wednesday night instead of Tuesday, you can see her when she gets home—she's dying to meet Martin, and Collin, too, and since the house is going to be packed on Thursday, you'll get to talk to her a little.”

Jeff found that his white lab coat was suddenly way too tight, too hot, and too sweaty. “Who told Her Royal Shortness about Collin?” he asked, suddenly a little afraid. Benny was… was
joyful
about the whole lot of them. She fussed like a little mother hen, and he was suddenly very much afraid of disappointing her. It was a date. One lousy date. Crick wouldn't tell Benny about one lousy date, would he?

“I told her,” Crick said, the small smile on his face proclaiming that he enjoyed Jeff's discomfort very much.
“Oh, Jesus, Crick—what if it doesn't work out? I mean, God, I've already made a hash out of it once or twice, or I've lost track of how often, and I don't want her getting all excited for me when there's nothing to celebrate, you know?”
The smile faded, and Crick's face took on the stern lines of, had he known it, his boyhood hero and the love of his life. “Shut up, Jeffy. She left the only security she's ever had to go forge a future, and we had to call her back to tell her Deacon might not be here for long. She loves you—hell, she loves us
all.
If I've got even the tiniest bit of good news about somebody, whether it's planning the little „ceremony' Mikhail is going to drag us to in the nut-shriveling cold after Christmas or the fact that she might not have to worry about her favorite uncle Jeffy—man, I'm gonna fucking tell her. My sister deserves any good thing we can give her, and all she's wanted since she moved into The Pulpit is for her baby to be taken care of and for us to be happy. I'm gonna give it to her. But you know what that means?”
“Christ.” Jeff flopped down, ass first, on the bed next to Crick. “Yeah, I know what this means.”
“It means you'd better not fuck this up,” Crick said, but he looped a companionable arm around Jeff's shoulders, and Jeff leaned into his friend with sincere appreciation.
“And just because I love your little sister, I'll try not to,” Jeff told him sincerely, and he was rewarded by Crick's sudden, unencumbered lopsided grin, the one that told him what Deacon had probably seen in Crick in the first place.
“The fact that you might actually get you some is not up for consideration at all, is it?”
Jeff shuddered, remembering the complete domination of those kisses. God, Collin knew how to make him feel small and vulnerable— and protected. Like he was surrounded by strength. Like someone was there to keep him safe when things got bad. Like nothing could ever hurt him again. “Well, you know me, Crick. I'm all about the short-term sex, right?”
Crick's arm tightened around his shoulders, and Crick dropped a kiss on the top of his head. Horrible brat—he
would
be six foot five inches tall. Crick had
grown
this last year, and Deacon had told Jeff repeatedly that it made him feel like a dirty old man.
I should have at least waited until the kid stopped growing before I married him.
God. Deacon had to be all right.
“I promise you, this one's going to stick around a while,” Crick said fervently. “I feel it, Jeffy, he's in for the long haul.”
“So's Deacon, Crick,” Jeff told him with more confidence than he felt. “Deacon might just sort of fade away for himself, but we all know there's not much in the world he wouldn't do for you.”
“God, I hope so. For both of us.”
“Me too.” There was a silence, which Jeff broke with a silly thought that had been bothering him all day. “What do you think I should wear?”
“The very fact that you even ask that is proof that you're not really trying here.”
“But… I mean, I was going to go home after work and change, Crick—what should I wear?”
“Clothes.”
“What kind?” Jeff fumed, crossing his arms in front of him obstinately.
“The kind you can take off, you dumb asshole. You may be thinking of this as a first date, but by my count, it makes three, and this guy deserves a happy ending.”
“I'm
not
putting out for him.”
“Prick tease.”
“Fuck you.”
“I'm not the one volunteering, here, Jeffy.” Crick straightened and took away his comforting arm in exasperation.
“I'm just asking what I should wear!” God, couldn't anyone see it was a legitimate question?
“Wear some fucking optimism that it doesn't matter what you're going to wear,” Crick muttered, shaking his head. “Now help me into my goddamned shoes, willya? Deacon's going to need to take his meds when I get home, and I don't want to be late.”

SO JEFF'S day had been…
stressful
, was the word, by the time he roared out of the parking lot of the VA hospital, but it had also been… what was the word he was looking for?

Blessed.

Margie, Crick—it was like God was telling him to hope a little, to maybe give the kid a chance, maybe let him prove himself some.
Maybe Jeff wasn't doing anybody any favors by keeping the world out of his heart, was he?
This time, he let his heart jump up to his throat when he rounded the almost-desolate street of small businesses that featured the firehouse, the diner, and a DVD trading store all huddled together, with Collin's garage being the biggest lot on the block. He saw the Mini Cooper out in front, meaning that it was all done, and he saw Shane's GTO next to it, with Kimmy leaning against the door and Lucas leaning next to her. The pose looked casual, but Kimmy's face was taut and unhappy.
Jeff pulled up, feeling absurdly proud of driving that big, lusty muscle car, and went to see if maybe he could give Kimmy some of his optimism. God knew, now that one of them had it, it was time to share.
“All I'm saying,” Kimmy protested as Jeff was walking up, “is that it would be stupid to leave a life in Georgia if you've got one.”
“I don't,” Lucas said mildly, without heat. Jeff had to grin. Lucas so far had proven to be, literally, the most cheerful person Jeff had ever met. When they'd played games at Jeff's house, the better to make Martin feel at home, Lucas had met every one of Kim's scowls with a smile and every bitchy word of cynicism out of her mouth with sunshine and chocolates. Jeff wasn't sure what sort of boys they raised in Georgia, but this one had balls of titanium good will, and Jeff just had to respect that.
The truth was, Lucas reminded Jeff of a slightly less weird version of Shane, and since he knew Kim would roll around in thumbtacks and lemon juice to protect Shane from
anything
, he had high hopes for the two of them, because, dammit,
someone
deserved to be happy, right?
“Heya, Kimmy,” Jeff sallied, shutting the door of the Camaro gently but firmly—he had to be careful with it, after all. It was Collin's baby.
“Oh God, if it isn't Mr. Sunshine himself. What the fuck are you so happy about?”
Jeff tried for smugness—he used to be able to be smug about these things, didn't he? “I have a date,” he said simply, and Kimmy's scowl melted away.
“Go, Jeffy! I'm proud of you.”
Jeff blushed. “Yeah, well, it's been a while.”
Suddenly Lucas, easygoing, titanium good will Lucas, looked sharp and disapproving. “How long?”
Jeff blushed even more and looked away. “Uhm….” Oh God, it was almost worse than being a thirty-two-year-old virgin, wasn't it?
“Aw, man!” Lucas turned around and kicked the GTO's back tire, and when he turned back around, his tanned, square-jawed, Georgia-boy face was almost grief stricken. “Kevin wouldn't have wanted that!” he snapped, and Jeff looked at him, as surprised as Kimmy.
“It's not—”
“You never called me. I told you to call me, I told you to keep in touch. I told you I'd be your friend after that, you know?”
“I—”
“I was supposed to look out for you, Jeff—you think I didn't get a letter too?”
Jeff and Kimmy looked at Lucas in confusion. He was crying. “Lucas… you didn't do anything wrong,” Jeff told him earnestly. “You called and gave me bad news, you offered help—you did okay. You were injured too—it's not like you didn't have a whole entire life of your own to deal with, right?”
“But it's not okay! Not if you've been alone all this time!” Lucas turned around and kicked the tire again. “You just… when you didn't call back, I thought you had it all together. I should have made sure you had someone. I should have.”
Jeff swallowed the absurd urge to laugh. “Sugarplum, as nice as it would have been to think I had my own personal dating fairy, it wasn't fair of Kevin to just land you with the job, okay? I…. If I've been alone this time, it's been by choice. Not because you failed Kevin, all right?”
“Fucking miserable choice, man,” Lucas said, wiping his eyes, as vulnerable as a child. “That's not the way Kevin wanted you to be at all.” He turned around and stalked off then, and Jeff looked at Kimmy helplessly.
“I'm not the one who's been flirting with him when he delivers the linens,” Jeff told her, and Kimmy looked after him, her expression thoughtful.
“You know,” she murmured, “maybe he really
is
in it for the long haul. What do you think?”
Jeff looked up and saw that Collin had spotted them—and that he'd apparently taken another garage-bay shower and was out of his coveralls. He was still cleaning his hands with a self-consciousness that was starting to charm Jeff, because Collin probably only cleaned his hands like that so he didn't get grease on Jeff's skin.
Jeff called himself back to Kimmy for a moment. “I think that if you don't go and make him happy, I'm not going to have a date tonight.” It was an evasion, because he didn't need to say the truth. Lucas was just as sturdy and just as real as Shane was. She just needed to give him a chance.
“Yeah,” Kimmy murmured. “Look, I'll go talk him down, okay? Stall a minute—he was looking forward to this. He likes Martin.”
She went off to talk to Lucas, and Collin was suddenly striding toward Jeff, and Jeff's heart was thrumming in his ears like tiki drums. Collin's smile was heated, possessive, and promising, and when he got close enough, he ditched the grease rag in his jeans pocket and framed Jeff's face with his hands. “Miss me today?”
Jeff would have dropped his chin, dropped his eyes, hidden from the question, much the same way he'd tried to hide himself in Kevin's shoulder in that long-ago picture, but Collin's hands wouldn't let him. “I thought of you all day,” he said honestly, and was rewarded for his candor when Collin took his mouth gently, tasting a little with his tongue, and Jeff was suddenly starving, not for just a taste, but for a fullcourse meal.
He groaned and opened his mouth and practically issued an engraved invitation, and Collin was there, taking over, being strong and soft and
hot
and those things that Jeff had learned he could be, in spite of his youth and his cockiness, and he tasted….
Oh sweet Jebus. He tasted like sex and sweetness. For crap's sake, he tasted better than chocolate mousse, chocolate fudge, or chocolate ice cream, and odds were good he wouldn't upset Jeff's stomach either. Jeff groaned and fisted his hand in that long hair, something he'd been
yearning
to do, and pulled Collin closer.
Collin made a surprised noise, and his hands dropped from Jeff's face and were suddenly planted directly on Jeff's ass, hauling him in flush and tight.
Oh. My. God
. His erection was swollen up through his jeans and against Jeff's thigh, and it was
huge.
Jeff might have thought the car was compensation for something, but apparently not. Apparently the big-dick car was just absolutely perfect for the man who….
Oh God… oh God
…. Collin thrust up against Jeff, and Jeff realized that all the blood that had been whooshing around his head with random thoughts of clothing had just rushed to his cock and the fervent,
burning
wish not to have any clothing on whatsoever.
He was, in about two seconds, as close to coming in Collin's arms, from Collin's kiss, as he usually was after half an hour of porn, a butt plug, and some serious wanking off. (Hey, a boy had to have his hobbies.) He pulled away almost roughly, took a big gulp of air, and put his hands on Collin's hips and pushed him back a cotton-picking-out-ofthe-pubes inch, then leaned his forehead on Collin's shoulder and dragged air into his lungs like a drowning man.
“Hey,” Collin soothed, moving those big, capable hands to Jeff's shoulders and rubbing circles. “Hey, damn… it's okay. I won't ravish you in the parking lot. It'll be all right.”
Jeff nodded against that shoulder and continued to shudder, trying to get himself under control. The raw, painful urgency faded to a bearable ache, and he relaxed against Collin's body, for just this moment, sure that the other man could bear his weight.
Collin didn't let him down. Those arms…. God, this kid worked out or something, because those arms were so strong, and so capable, and they were around his shoulders, and Jeff felt like nothing could hurt him, nothing could hurt
them
, nothing in the world at all.
Maybe, just maybe, for a little while, tonight, maybe, Jeff could concede control of the world to the gods.