Make a Right (22 page)

“You’re sure?”

“You start the music, or I will. Actually, you know what? I can already hear the tune.” Tuck reached for the levers that’d lower his seat and Cade’s, taking them almost onto their backs. “Your ears pricking up yet?”

“Maybe.” Cade stretched most of his body over Tuck, sliding Tuck’s shirt up to bare his stomach. “I’m trying.” He pressed his mouth to the soft spot between ribs and stomach. He traced his way down with kiss after kiss, each so gentle it made Tuck lock tight. “Sometimes I think I might have gone deaf. Does that make sense?”

Not really, but Tuck let it pass. “As much as anything else.”

“Which isn’t much at all.” Cade laid his hand on Tuck’s belt. Teasing the rising swell of Tuck’s cock with the barest brush of his fingertips. “This. It’s a different language.” He drew on that new strength; Tuck could see him do it. “Yes. I want it, and I’m asking. Now.”

Tuck let go and let it happen. “Then give me what you’ve got, for now.”

“Thank you. I know. You don’t want to hear that. I needed to say it. And now I’m done.”

Tuck doubted him, at first. Before Cade proved his word to be good, kissing each wing of Tuck’s hipbones, cheek bumping Tuck’s cock and nudging him harder, thicker. He ran his hand up Tuck’s stomach to hold him down as gentle as feathers and inflexible as iron.

He worked Tuck easy, slow, never going faster no matter how Tuck begged—and beg he did, time and again, breathing in deep gulps and chanting broken words. Cade kept his cool even when the thickness of his cock distorted his slacks, and he shifted his hips in half circles, needing the friction but denying himself. Tuck remembered how Cade used to do that—hold back as long as he could to work himself up to a fever pitch. Used to love winding them both up as high as they could climb before letting them both jump off the edge and fly. He’d loved it then; he loved it now.

Tuck flashed back to the apartment, the night Cade had agreed to come with him, and would have laughed if it hadn’t come out as a sob. “Cade, please…” He undid his zipper himself, even if he did risk bad things doing that with his hands shaking so.

Cade mouthed along the side of Tuck’s cock with the faintest scrape of teeth. “I’ve got you,” he said. He laughed. “For once,
I’ve
got
you
.”

Tuck groaned as Cade licked the tip of his dick and sucked on the crown alone. “Come down my throat. I want to swallow you. Keep you inside me. I’ll taste you tomorrow. That’s it, that’s right, more, like that,” he said, speeding when Tuck did as he’d been told, on the fine edge of losing control.

Cade gripped himself through his slacks and kneaded hard, too hard, his breath going ragged but still talking;
fuck
, he chose his moments, but Tuck couldn’t—he wasn’t—

“I’ll fuck you tonight,” Cade promised. “The way you like it. The way I do. Because”—Tuck noticed the pause but was past asking why—“because,” Cade said. He rocked into himself, bringing himself close enough to thrust against Tuck’s side. One leg slid over to pin Tuck’s down. “Because I need you, God, help me, I need you—I—”

He shook his head once, hard, too hard, but Tuck couldn’t stop him. He took Tuck in hand and slid down smooth, taking him deeper than Tuck could remember, down into his throat, and swallowed.

Oh fuck. Oh God. Fuck
! Tuck let the shout loose; no, it ripped its way out of him when he came, and when Cade swallowed him all, every drop. He had no voice left when Cade let go, shoved his face against Tuck’s stomach, and stilled, warm wetness spreading thickly between them.

Cade’s face was red with arousal, pale with exhaustion, and fully grown into itself when he made Tuck look at him. “If you worry about me choosing Thomas over you,
ever
again, that’s what I’ve got to say. Do you believe me?”

Tuck shut his eyes. He could taste the scent of sex that permeated the car, thick as a drug. It should have made him glad. He believed Cade. He did, when Cade said that was his answer. Cade meant it. Now.

But would he always? Tuck would have believed him for good, once upon a time.

Now he wasn’t sure, and he died a little inside when he let himself think so.

“Yes,” Tuck said.

Lied.

He thought Cade even believed him. Figured, didn’t it?

Cade brushed the back of his hand against Tuck’s cheek. “You’re impossible sometimes, you know that? And sometimes…” He sobered. “Sometimes you’re more possible than you used to be.”

Chapter Seventeen

“Think they’re awake?” Shoes in hand, Tuck slipped as silently as he could across the paving stones that led around back of the good professor’s house.

Cade followed behind, less carefully but not entirely careless. “If they are, they’ll have heard the car pull in.”

“Yeah, well. This feels like sneaking back into bed before morning.” He glanced over his shoulder at Cade, just like old times back at St. Pius. It pleased him to see Cade’s small smile returned for the wicked flash of a grin Tuck couldn’t help.

“You’re not wrong.” Cade stroked Tuck’s arm with two fingers from the shoulder to the wrist, ending by braceleting him before pressing their palms together.

Pressure in his chest made Tuck unsteady, just enough for Cade to notice. “Getting into practice again, or doing that just because?”

Cade studied him in that way he had, the way he used to, as if Tuck were the only thing in the world. His small smile lingered, softening the curve of his lips. “Both.”

The kitchen light flicked on. “Awake.” Tuck wanted to hold back and drag his steps. “Is it just me, or is there something off about this?”

“It’s not just you.” Cade tried to let go of Tuck.

Uh-uh
. Tuck tightened his hold on Cade’s hand. He needed more of that strength to lean on. Funny how things changed. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.” Cade started up the veranda steps, heading toward the closed door. He noticed that at the same time Tuck did and frowned at him, that one eyebrow drawn into a sharper question mark.

Tuck tried to shrug. “It isn’t locked and barred. That’s a good sign, right?”

The darkness of the doorway filled abruptly, silently; if Tuck was the kind of guy to believe in ghosts, he’d have jumped and sworn.

Then again, no one could move as swift and deadly as a girl who’d grown up fighting for herself the way Megan had.

She’d abandoned messy-chopsticks hair for a tangled dark brown mane that fell down her back and over her shoulders, bangs heavy in her eyes—no glasses. The multiplicity of oversize hockey jerseys she’d worn had disappeared for a tight-fitting white something or other that any real dad would have whipped her tail for, blue jeans that fit as well, and bare feet. Fists clenched at her sides, she looked like one of the Furies in old-world stories.

And she was on the move, fast, Hannah barely noticeable as a corona of gold rushing behind her, trying to catch her, one of those fists uncurling into an open-handed swing.

Tuck caught her wrist before her hand met Cade’s cheek and pushed himself between them. He’d hoped this wouldn’t happen. Didn’t mean he hadn’t been prepared. “Uh-uh, little girl. If you’re gonna slap someone around here, you take a swing at me first. This was my idea.”

Megan always had been as good with the left as she was with the right. Sure, he’d expected the slap. He hadn’t figured on how much it’d hurt, but Tuck took it like a man, lips pressed tight and not moving. “I deserved that. Go again if you want to.”

“I should.” Megan twisted her wrist, trying to get free. Suzie-Q barked sharply at them from the safety of the warm kitchen, not at all pleased. Megan made a face but eased up. Just a little. Maybe a little would be enough. “Goddamnit, you dicks. What were you thinking?”

Tuck could see Thomas behind them, a dark shape in the background.
That
helped, oh yeah. “Thinking we didn’t want to hurt you before you got married.”

“Babe.” Hannah kneaded Megan’s shoulder. “I told you. They meant well.”

Megan growled. Kittenish, but kittens had teeth and claws too, and better not forget it. Especially lioness cubs. “I should twist the nipples off all of you.”

“You could kick me in the shins,” Tuck said. “Like you used to.”

“Asshole.” Megan didn’t deflate. A tough chick like her wasn’t built for that. She did exhale, and with that long breath went some of the tension that held her strung tight. She splayed her fingers wide. “No one’s getting slapped. Let me go.”

Tuck checked with Hannah, who nodded. He got what she meant.

Okay, then.

But he’d gotten it wrong. The second he let go, Megan dodged past him and landed a slap to Cade’s cheek that made Tuck’s ears ring and his already burning cheek sear hot in sympathy.

Cade took it better than Tuck would have thought, almost as stone-faced as a cliffside. Sort of. In a strange, strange way. He touched the five red marks forming on his paler skin. “Thank you.”

The fuck
? Tuck made a face at Cade. Cade refused to look back at him, his shoulders set in a silent warning against—what?

Megan shook out her hand; looked like that had hurt her as much or more than it’d hurt Cade. Hannah rubbed her face and dragged a backward rake of fingers through her tangled blonde hair. “Can we go inside now, babe? Please?”

“Not yet.” Megan’s bare feet had begun to turn faintly blue in the freezing chill of dew on grass. “My turn to talk. Your turn to listen.”

“You’re going to get sick,” Cade said. “Go inside, Megs.”

“No.” She crossed her arms tight. “I get why you did it. I’ve had that pounded into my head all night long, and I don’t want to hear any more. Okay? So don’t tell me ‘I never meant to hurt you.’ You know better than anyone else around here that’s pure bullshit. That’s what people say after they put out a cigarette on your arm for being too noisy.”

“Not the same thing, and you damn well know it.”

Hannah kneaded Megan’s shoulder. But she shook her head and remained silent.

So many things he could say to that. The only one that came out was, “I’m sorry.”

Megan’s chin came up. “You should be. I am not some weak little kid, you get that? I know what you think when you look at me, and I’m not her anymore.”

“Deep down, we’re all still lost boys and lost girls,” Cade murmured. “Aren’t we?”

Megan faltered the tiniest bit but recovered fast with a jut to her chin more stubborn still. “You were the ones who raised me to be strong. Where do you get off thinking I’m weak? Wrong. I’m
strong
. Neither you nor anyone else gets to decide how tough I am for me.”

The sting in Tuck’s heart faded, but the way he figured it, he’d be carrying that ache for a while. He bent his head once, acknowledging and accepting.

Megan shook her hair out of her face. “Good.” She took a deep breath and uncrossed her arms, planting her fists on her hips. “So here’s the part I don’t get. You say you’ve been faking it. What-the-fuck-ever. And I might have been up past my eyes trying to get this project done, but I’m not oblivious. The way you two look at each other? Act around each other, most of the time? And now, the way you’re jumping in for each other, you—” She caught herself and found enough composure to go on. “What are you now? Tell me the truth, or turn around and go home.”

Tuck wanted to look to Hannah, to check with her and see whose side she was on, but fuck that. There were no sides here.

Cade answered for him. “What truth do you want?”

Wham. Bam
. Lightning flashed dimmer than Megan. “Are you together or not? Tell me the truth.”

And the thunder rolled, leaving silence in his wake. Tuck couldn’t stop what came as reflex and instinct, checking with Cade, searching for answers.

Weird thing was, he thought he saw one.

“Better,” he told Megan, tasting the hope. He wished he could take Cade’s hand. “Better is where we’re headed. Past that, I don’t know.”

Eternities, or maybe just seconds, passed before she closed her eyes and shivered, the cold finally getting to her. Maybe. “You
are
better than this. Keep being better. Come inside, and hurry up. I need coffee. Now.”

She stormed ahead of them, hair flying out behind her. Hannah laid her hand briefly on Tuck’s arm, offering him a wry half smile. “Believe it or not, this is her after she’s calmed down. She won’t forget, but she will forgive. Sooner or later. You had to know that’s how it would be.”

“So what do we do?” Tuck asked, feeling lost again, as if he were on streets he’d never seen and didn’t know how to drive.

Hannah studied them, him and Cade. “Do what she said, I think. Keep getting better. Come in when you’re ready.”

Then she was gone. Tuck gestured at Cade to follow her. “You should put some ice on that,” he said, brushing close to the red marks on Cade’s cheek. Those had to smart. “I forgot the stuff I bought. Got a feeling a peace offering wouldn’t hurt. Might even help. Go inside and get them settled.”

“You were always the one who did that.”

“But I wasn’t the only one.” Tuck stood aside, leaving the door free and clear. “Go on. Megan needs you more than me right now anyway. Hannah needs Megan. It’ll be okay.”

Cade hesitated, but he kissed Tuck’s forehead and cradled the back of his neck. “All right.”

Tuck watched him go.

Thomas stayed. The girls had forgotten about him, and Tuck hadn’t noticed him there, though he should have. Figured. He stood in the back corner of the veranda, watching. Just like always, A shadowed shape in a black sweatshirt and black sweatpants, his hair dark and his skin pale. Handsome in his way. Tuck had never seen that before.

“You told them,” Tuck said, not really needing an answer he already knew but wanting to ask it anyway to see what Thomas would say.

Thomas inclined his head. “They needed to know. You asking Hannah to lie to Megan? No.”

Damn, but that was a bitter truth. “I know,” Tuck said.

“I’m not sorry.”

“Wasn’t asking you to be.”

“Fair enough,” Thomas said.

“It’s really not.” Tuck leaned on the veranda rail, staring out into the night. Sort of. Though bullfrogs croaked, crickets raised their rasping song, and fireflies spun and danced, he noticed them only in a vague sort of way. “I asked Cade, and he gave me his answer. Now I’m asking you. Do you love him?”