Make a Right (12 page)

“For coming, dumb-ass,” Megan said. “It wouldn’t have been the same without you. I worried that you wouldn’t, but you came through. Family is what you make of it. So, here’s to family.”

Now that Tuck could raise a glass to. He tipped his glass back for a deep draft.
Mmm
. He could learn to like iced tea, especially if the flavor would carry this memory of a good night, a good moment in time. “To family.”

“Family,” Cade echoed. Did Tuck imagine it, or was that the smallest pressure of Cade leaning into him, against his leg? He chose to imagine it was, and to enjoy it.

“And…” Hannah drew the word out two syllables past its norm. She took both of Tuck’s hands in hers. “There’s one more thing. How many weddings have you been to?”

“I can count them on less than the fingers of one hand,” Tuck admitted. He and Cade had never done anything formal. Maybe they should have. “Why?”

“There’s this thing,” Megan chipped in.

Tuck propped his chin in his hand. “They sure did teach you to talk fancy at math camp, didn’t they?”

She scowled at him. “Shut up. This is new for me.”

“I hope so. If you’ve been to more than one wedding that’s your own, Hannah probably ought to know.”

Cade’s shoulders were definitely shaking. He kept his head turned, but Tuck knew a laugh when he saw one, even if he didn’t hear one.

“I’ll be good, I’ll be good,” Tuck promised before some female or another slapped him. “What’s this ‘thing’ you speak of?”

“The first dance at a wedding is traditionally father and daughter,” Megan said, biting her lip in appeal. “But if you want, if you choose, it can be a brother-sister dance instead. I’d hoped Cade would dance with me.”

“And Tuck with me.” The kid Hannah had been and the woman she was came together in a shared moment of nerves and the fear that he’d say no outright. No one ever got past that, not really. “Please?”

Cade could sit stiller than anyone on earth, but he trumped himself now. Worried, Tuck bumped knees with him to ask silently,
you okay?

“I’d be honored,” Cade said at last, husky and low. “I’d—thank you.”

Megan lifted her glass again. “Now that’s what I’m talking about.” She tossed back the last swallow and hurled herself forward into Cade’s arms.

He barely caught her, oofing, but he put his arms around her with far less hesitation this time, and wasn’t that a pretty sight to see?

Family, Tuck thought with deep satisfaction.
Family is what you make of it. It’s not what I expected, but what ever is? I’m glad we came.

He copied Megan and got the tea down—and nearly choked on it. “Fuck me,” he blurted. “I don’t know how to dance.”

A man could wish for another glassful to hide behind amid the peals of feminine laughter—and Thomas’s quiet chuckle. At least Cade behaved.

“I did remember,” Hannah said, relaxing into an easy pose of fond observation. “Cade knows how. He can teach you.”

Um
. Tuck stalled, trying to work this into his developing plan of attack.

“I’ll do what I can,” Cade said before Tuck had gotten through Thought One. Faint humor crinkled up the corners of his eyes when he glanced back at Tuck. Still a little wary. But less so. Be damned. “Fair warning that I can’t work miracles.”

Tuck wanted to take Cade’s hand, and he did.

And Cade let him.

“Thanks,” he said, hoping Cade got how he meant that to encompass more than one thing.

Cade didn’t smile, but it felt as if he had.

Tuck would have been content to go on sitting there all night, but such plans didn’t account for the energy of kid sisters. Megan dusted off her hands and popped up. “Hannah, do you think they’ll be out tonight?”

“She has this much energy after someone drags her away from that table,” Hannah explained. “Like a jack-in-the-box gone haywire. Come sunup she’ll be right back where she started, muttering about cosines and theorems, and I’ll pretend I have a clue what she’s talking about.”

“You don’t fool me, babe, but you make the effort. That counts.” Megan tugged at Hannah’s arm. “Leave the leftovers here. The ants can have fun, and we’ll hose it all down before we go in for the night.”

“Let her have her way before she has your arm out of the socket,” Tuck advised, not joking. God help anyone who stood in the way of a hell-on-wheels like Megan. He stood, reluctant but intrigued despite himself. At least Cade was right behind him. Still feeling as if he were smiling.

“Where are we going in such a hurry?” Cade asked.

“Somewhere amazing.” Hannah sparkled at both of them. “How long has it been since you’ve seen fireflies?”

* * *

“Fireflies, really?” Tuck scanned the deepening twilight in the vain search for pinpricks of light. Hannah and Megan had left them far behind, arm in arm and head to head, whispering to one another. That was okay. Thomas followed behind by about ten feet, taking his time. No hurry about anything from him.

Tuck would like that, if he hadn’t been able to feel Thomas watching him. Them. Every second. He drew Cade to a stop and gestured impatiently at Thomas with an extra dash of “warning” in there.

Thomas raised an eyebrow at Tuck, but he went on by. He didn’t look back. How the hell Tuck still felt those eyes on him, he didn’t know, but it made the back of his neck itch like a fucker.

“Fireflies,” Cade said. Right. He didn’t have his mind on glowing bugs at all. Didn’t take a genius or even someone who knew him well to figure that much. “Tuck…”

“I’m not going to like whatever it is you’re going to say, am I?”

“I wasn’t.”

If he hadn’t already pulled to a standstill, Tuck would have. “Say again?”

Cade laughed. Quietly, but still. He gazed up at the skies, not really seeming to see them, and shook his head. “I wasn’t going to say anything except to ask you not to talk. Because I don’t know what to say,” Cade answered his unspoken question. “Just stand here and let me think.”

“Stand here with you?”

Cade nodded.

Tuck didn’t understand. Not a bit. But if it made Cade happy, then hell, he’d at least try.

Hannah’s light touch on Tuck’s arm surprised him out of the kiss he’d started game-planning for. He hadn’t even heard her coming. “Look,” she whispered. “Up and around. See?”

Tuck blinked, adjusting his eyes to things not Cade and the cooling dusk. He didn’t see them at first. Then—hundreds of them, a cloud of flashing gold among the old trees, weaving and dancing together in a pattern no human could ever map with the naked eye. Being themselves and rejoicing in it.

He’d seen a few things in his time he might have called sacred. This was one of them.

“Beautiful,” Hannah said, and she spoke for all of them. Of everything.

Chapter Eight

Hannah lingered in the open doorway to the room she’d made up for them. She wore comfortable old sweatpants and a T-shirt, and she’d only just managed to tame her hair into a thick blonde braid. Tuck liked that. No pretenses, just herself and knowing she was good enough.

“Suzie-Q’s as happy as she can be in the kitchen, keeping Megan company,” she reassured Tuck as he idled his way through those sleepy, admiring thoughts. “Megan won’t forget to feed and walk her if they both stay up all night. Don’t worry. What about you two? You’ve got everything you need?”

Tuck hesitated. He could feel Cade’s presence behind him, standing quietly at the foot of the bed. Sounded like he’d started unpacking his duffel to lay out his old favorite pajama bottoms and a T-shirt. Soap and shampoo and shaving cream.

Maybe even some of Tuck’s things, the way he used to, with that small curve of his lips that no one else got to see. The one that said this gave him some kind of pleasure only Tuck sort of understood.

He used to love watching the ritual.

He wanted to see it again now.

“Tuck?” Hannah plucked at his sleeve. “Hi. Are you in there or have you been replaced by an actual zombie?”

Tuck blinked and shook his head once to clear away the wisps of fog. “Nope. Nobody in here but us pigeons.” He took her by both hands and swung them. “A decent night’s sleep and I’ll be acting human again. Scram and let us old jerks get some rest, huh?”

“Uh-huh.” The dimple deepened in sync with the quirk of an eyebrow. “‘Rest.’”

“By any other name,” Tuck temporized. Yeah. With Cade behind him like this, however it shook down, sleeping wasn’t going to happen. He tugged the end of Hannah’s braid. “You and Megan get some rest too, huh? Drag her away from those books if you have to.”

“I may just.” Hannah lifted on tiptoe to kiss Tuck’s cheek. “Oof. There’s an en-suite shower in this room. Just saying.”

“You didn’t complain before.”

“That was before
I
showered. Sweet dreams, guys. By the way, theoretical physicists
do
dream of electronic sheep. Ask me about it in the morning.” She glanced behind Tuck and frowned. The tiniest bit, only for a second.

“Hannah?”

“Nothing.” She squeezed his hand and let go. “The coffeepot’s set for seven thirty. I’m holding that and all other forms of caffeine hostage until you’re awake and with me.”

“Unfair,” Tuck called after her, and then she was gone, padding silently on bare feet down the hallway. Leaving him with nothing to do but push the door closed with a smooth
snick
of a perfectly aligned lock.

And then there were two
. Tuck toed out of his sneakers, then swung a left to the dresser with only a casual glance at Cade. Not so much effective, since he could see Cade reflected in the dresser mirror.

“This is getting to be a habit,” Tuck said to Cade’s reflection.

Cade almost-smiled again. He held the gaze for a count of one, two, three before he looked away, down at his work. He had laid out almost everything Tuck had packed and almost nothing of his own. He stroked the shirt he’d chosen, Tuck’s favorite, with that new thoughtfulness in his every move.

Interesting. Possibly positive. “You okay?” Tuck asked.

“Today…” Cade started, choosing his words carefully. He pulled his shirt over his head almost absently, probably not even realizing what he did. “None of it was what I’d expected.”

No kidding. But he hadn’t said so as if it were a bad thing, had he? “You had a good night after you allowed yourself to have one,” Tuck said. “Go on, admit it.”

Cade’s lips looked so soft when he let them ease into that smile of his. Sweet. Tuck wanted to taste them. All he needed—maybe—was one more push. “You think so?”

Tuck sat on the bed to test its softness. And, maybe not so incidentally, to get closer to Cade. He caught Cade’s hand and pressed his lips to the back. “You know what? I do. You were happy.”

Cade stroked the ragged edge of the duffel. He wasn’t really looking at it, but at something in his memory, when he replied. Maybe he was seeing fireflies. “I was,” he said and sounded as if that surprised him. “I really was.”

“Then why let it end now?”

God
damn
his mouth that never knew when to stop and came out with this kind of bomb at the very worst times. All his good humor gone, Cade went still as stone. “Tuck, don’t.”

Hell. No reason not to go for broke now
. Tuck reached for Cade, a space open where Cade could come into his arms if he chose. “I suck. I’m sorry. And I mean that.”

Cade took a breath that brought him back to life but not to peace of mind. “It’s not… No, let me finish.” He shook his head. “It wasn’t something I wasn’t thinking about either. It was me who said it first. Every time we’re together, it’s impossible not to start drifting back to the way we were, and after what happened, yes, that
is
a bad thing.”

“Uh-huh.” Tuck eyed him. “Funny how you don’t look me in the eye when you say that.”

“Damn it, Tuck.” Cade started unpacking his own goods, not going easy on them at all.
Jerk, tug, toss
. “It’s a bad thing because you promised when this was over, we were over.”

Tuck nodded. He tucked his chin down and drummed his fingers against his arm. “If you still wanted that, was what I said.”

Cade shut his eyes. He hadn’t missed that, and he hadn’t forgotten. Tuck knew. But he needed time to think that through, really think about it. Just Cade’s way.

And so Tuck waited.

The room wasn’t that much bigger than their first apartment. When Tuck breathed in, he could taste Cade’s scent, warm and musky from a long day, salty, and bearing one last hint of soap from his morning shower. The breadth of his chest, covered with its light down of hair, was a faint pink spreading from the neck down. His stomach flexed with his sharp breathing.

God, but Tuck wanted to taste that skin. To sweep his lips across it and trace circles with the tip of his tongue around—everything.

“What do you want from me?” Cade asked. He opened his eyes, barely, the irises dark as night beneath the hood of his lashes. “What do you think’s going to happen?”

That was Cade, man. Too proud to back down and at the same time daring Tuck to keep pushing and see who backed down first.

“I don’t know,” Tuck said. He took Cade’s hand in a tighter grip and didn’t let go. “How about you tell me?”

Cade’s cheeks darkened. He was angry now. Good. Better than. See, this was the way it used to be, and Tuck loved it when Cade got riled up before bed. When he was a thin thread’s worth of patience away from pushing Tuck down and covering him, rough fire in the long, solid stretch of his body. Pinning Tuck there with his cock hard against his stomach, ready to fuck him or love him or both, and yeah, that was what this felt like.

Cade knew that too. Tuck could tell. The deepening of Cade’s scent would have said as much if his cock hadn’t, outlined hard behind his zipper.

This was where they’d stand before the need swallowed them whole. Right on the edge. Almost there…almost…

And then,
snap
. Cade twisted his wrist and freed his hand. He put a yard of separation between them, fast. “Go to bed, Tuck. Turn the light out and say good night.”

No, nuh-uh, not getting away with that now
. Tuck followed, pressing back into Cade’s space. Backed Cade into the corner of the bedroom and kept him there.