That’s the price you pay for being easy.
“Okay, all done. Now we have to put Uncle Cory’s letter in with mine.”
Crap
. “Okay. Let’s find it.” He started shuffling through the papers.
“It’s the one with the signature on it.” Man, she had a good memory. Ken was loath to give up his copy of
The Guide to Corbin Collins’ Ideal Man,
or whatever he called his wish list, but evidently pulling the wool over Bailey’s eyes wasn’t going to be easy.
“Oh, that’s right. Here it is.” He pulled it out of his pocket and handed it to her. “I put it in my pocket to keep it safe.”
She carefully inspected it, nodding in satisfaction as she confirmed it was the right one, and then folded it back up and stuffed it into the envelope with her own. It was a tight fit since they weren’t exactly folded to letter size, but eventually they got the envelope to stay shut. With lots of tape.
“Can you mail them for me?”
Ken brightened, giving Bailey a genuine smile as he realized he’d have another opportunity to snag the list. “Of course I will.”
“Promise you won’t forget. Promise you’ll do it today.”
“Today or tomorrow, depending on when I leave.”
“Oh.” She thought about that for a minute. “I wish you didn’t have to leave. Can’t you live here with us? I like you.”
Swallowing against the sudden prickle in his throat, he looked into that earnest face, with the same hazel brown eyes as her uncle. “I like you, too, sweets.”
“Is that your special name for me?”
“Sweets? Sure, if you like it,” he double-checked.
She nodded repeatedly. “I like sweets, so I like ‘sweets’.” She laughed uproariously at her joke, and Ken laughed along with her, enjoying the camaraderie and ease of being in a house with love and laughter again.
“Okay, sweets. Let’s clean this mess up and play a game. Then we’ll start thinking about dinner.”
Because he wasn’t in any hurry to leave. Not at all.
W
HEN
nighttime came and Ken had seen neither hide nor hair of either of the Collinses, he went ahead and did Bailey’s bedtime routine, which was becoming more familiar by the day. This night ended up being bath night, so he loaded her up with bath toys and bubble bath—the pink princess kind—and let her play in the water while he checked on Cory.
Both Cory and the sheets were damp, so apparently the fever had broken. And the basin was empty. All good signs. And he was a jerk for feeling torn, since he knew the minute Cory was well again, he’d be out the door. But it looked like he could eke out another night in his bed before that happened.
A bit lighter in his step at that realization, he finished putting Bailey down for the night, and did about an hour’s worth of work on his laptop before the lure of the man upstairs finally became too strong to resist.
Crawling into bed again, Ken listened to the regular breathing of the man next to him and thought,
I could get used to this. I really could.
Chapter Five
C
ORY
stretched carefully as he came awake. Though his body felt like he’d been run over by a truck—twice—his head was almost back to normal, and the pervasive feeling of nausea seemed to be gone. With a sense of relief at having gotten through the worst of it alive—yeah, he was melodramatic but it sure
felt
like he was going to die at a few points over the past couple days—he rolled over toward Ken, who was gone. Mood instantly crashing, he flopped back on his back before giving in and crawling over to the other pillow, inhaling Ken’s comforting scent.
It was amazing how quickly he’d gotten used to having the man there with him. He’d surface from sleep just enough to register Ken’s steady breathing, maybe a low grunt as he shifted positions in his sleep, and he’d drift back off, feeling safe and secure.
Just having him sleeping there was almost better than sex. A flood of erotic images took exception to that, and he palmed his semi-erection. Well,
almost
better than sex. And speaking of better… he must be on the mend if he was popping wood.
He cleaned up and changed into sweats and a long-sleeved T-shirt and wool socks. Brushed his teeth, which was long overdue—ugh. Wondering whether his stomach could handle a few crackers or something, he wandered downstairs, noting the door to Becky’s room was ajar. That usually meant she wasn’t home, she was pretty rabid about her privacy and the door being open was likely from Bailey looking for her mom this morning. He felt the familiar burst of resentment toward his sister at her casual, callous disregard of her daughter. There was no question that Bailey was getting old enough to feel it too.
Once in the kitchen, he took a moment to appreciate how clean and picked up the house was. Man, he really owed Ken. It was clean enough that the short note on the counter stood out.
Cory—Got Bailey on the bus this morning, but then really had to go in to work for a while. I plan to be back before her bus gets here in case you’re not up. Lori called yesterday, wants you to call her when you can. Ken
Very simple, even dispassionate, but Cory read between the lines—his actions speaking louder than his words. Ken had really taken to Bailey. His former decision to keep transient partners out of her life now warred with the real caring Ken had shown to them over the past few days.
Cory blew out a frustrated breath. Here was a perfect chance to nip this in the bud. All he had to do was call or text Ken that he was up and feeling better and he needn’t come back this afternoon. But then, he’d probably told Bailey he would be here—was it really fair to her to disappoint her? Seizing on that as a reason to maintain the status quo, he defiantly ignored the part of his brain reminding him that was
exactly
why he hadn’t wanted Bailey to come into contact with anyone he wasn’t serious about. Trying to put it from his mind until he was forced to deal with it, he walked to the fridge, bravely contemplating what he might be able to eat.
H
E
WAS
dozing on the couch when he heard the key in the front door. Thinking fuzzily it was Becky, he looked up and caught his breath. Ken was there, spare key fob in this hand, handsomely dressed in a suit that looked like it had been made for him. The breadth of his shoulders was accentuated, and the crisp blue collar of his shirt drew his eye to the tanned, corded muscles of his neck.
“You’re up.” A hint of aftershave finally reached him as Ken made his pleased, husky observation. All Cory’s senses leapt at the sensory smorgasbord. His brain clamored at him to get touch and taste in on the act.
To that end, he rose from the couch and walked right into Ken’s arms, which, hesitantly at first, enfolded him in an increasingly firm hold. “Thanks for everything, Ken. I don’t know how I would have gotten through the past couple days without you. Well, and last weekend too.”
Was that a kiss brushed along his temple?
“My pleasure. Bailey’s a real sweetheart.”
“Only Bailey?” Cory teased, watching a flush creep up Ken’s neck as he cleared his throat and took a step back. Disappointed to have lost contact, he watched as Ken fought to keep his composure. The incongruity of the power suit contrasting with Ken’s discomfort was fascinating.
“Well, no. You too. I mean, you’re not a ‘sweetheart’.” Ken winced. “Not that you’re
not
, but you’re a grown man. Oh, you know what I mean,” he finished grumpily. “It’s been fine. I’m not going to say a pleasure, though. If I never see or smell puke again in my life, it’ll be too soon.”
Cory laughed out loud, rubbing his abdominals as they gave a slight protest to the activity.
“Seriously, thanks for everything.” He looked around at the clean house. “You did so much, and helped me in the shower. Got all wet.” His voice dropped seductively as he took a step closer. Ken went still as Cory smoothed a hand down his lapel, feeling the hard muscle beneath the coverings. The vibe between them had changed in a heartbeat from companionable to sexual, as the instant electricity in the air amped up around them. “Slept with me. Took care of me.”
Cory watched as Ken swallowed, his throat working against the collar and knotted tie.
“I was disappointed you weren’t there when I woke up this morning,” he murmured. “Since I was feeling better, we could have had morning sex for the first time.”
Ken’s mouth opened and his breathing picked up. Cory had a feeling if he slid his hand down the front of Ken’s suit pants, he’d find unmistakable evidence of Ken’s arousal. Arousal so blatant he could almost taste it in the air between them, even without visual confirmation. He leaned in….
And then Ken was gone, walking a few steps away. Cory blinked in confusion.
“Not to be an ass, but up to this point, the reason we’ve never had morning sex has been you.”
Cory’s jaw dropped at the abrupt change and accusation. But what really blew him away was the rough note of pain in Ken’s voice. “Ken….”
The now-familiar sound of the school bus’ air brakes engaging cut the conversation off at the knees, and Ken strode briskly to the garage door, hitting the button to open the overhead as he walked out.
“Uncle Ken!”
“Hiya, sweets.”
“I’m glad you’re still here.” Silence, and Cory could picture the hug. “Did you mail it?”
“Sure did. Don’t worry, they’ll get there in plenty of time.”
The two came in from the garage hand in hand. As soon as Bailey caught sight of Cory, he braced himself for impact. “You’re awake! Are you still throwing up?”
Cory laughed and returned the hug. “Nope, all done with that. I hope. I’m feeling much better. So how was school today?”
Bailey babbled about what she had for lunch and how a kid on the bus got yelled at by the driver and who she played with a recess. As she went on and on about all the blessedly normal things in her world, Cory snuck a look at Ken, who was watching Bailey with a pained expression on his face. His eyes rose to connect with Cory’s and he immediately turned away, schooling his features into a blank mask.
“How about a snack? I’ll bet you’re hungry.”
Bailey followed Ken into the kitchen, pulling Cory along behind her. “Do you have to go back to work?” Cory received an assessing, questioning look from Ken before Ken answered Bailey’s query.
“Not till Monday. I’m done for the week.”
Oh man, it’s Friday? How the hell long has Becky been AWOL?
Her disappearances were getting more and more frequent, and longer each time.
Time to start looking into daycare or a nanny,
he thought with a sigh. Her mom just wasn’t reliable enough anymore to trust to be here when Cory needed to go to work.
Speaking of work…
.
He left Ken fixing Bailey a plate of veggies and Ranch dip and called Lori.
“Hi, Lori.”
“Jesus, you alive?”
“Barely. I heard you called.”
“Yeah, yesterday. Never mind. Are you going to be back at work tomorrow? I’m not
pushing
,” she avowed, although she clearly was, “but I need to know. Gonna have to call in some favors and pay some overtime if you aren’t.”
He looked at Bailey and thought for a moment. He could do the drop-in daycare on the other side of town if Becky wasn’t back. “Yeah, I’ll be there. I might be a little late, but I’ll call the kitchen if I am.” The chef and cooks came in hours before anyone else.
“Alright.” She paused. “Glad you’re feeling better.”
He smiled. She was a tough lady, but very loyal underneath it all. “Thanks, Lori. I’ll see you tomorrow around lunchtime?” he guessed. Though administrative, she usually came in at least once a day even on her official days off.
“Maybe. Maybe I’ll just stay at home. Can’t babysit you guys every day.”
She’d be there. “See you when I see you, then.” They said their goodbyes and he returned to the kitchen to find Ken and Bailey setting up a game of memory match on the kitchen table.
The three of them played games and talked for a couple hours before Cory felt himself fading. When he cracked a yawn for the fourth time in as many minutes, Ken finally suggested Cory go lay down and take a nap.
Wishing Ken could come with him, he nevertheless trudged upstairs, energy on the wane, and practically fell into bed.
A couple hours later, he awoke, feeling even better yet, as Ken walked nearly silently into the room with an armful of folded towels and some shirts on hangers. He’d shed the jacket and tie, and his shirt collar was unbuttoned.
“Hey,” he called quietly, and Ken spun toward him.
“Sorry,” he apologized stiffly. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”
The tone of his voice was flat, and Cory frowned. “That’s okay. Why don’t you come here for a few minutes?”
“I need to hang these up,” Ken evaded and walked into the closet, and then into the bathroom, coming out with his arms empty. Instead of coming over as invited, he wordlessly headed to the door.
Cory was about to call after him, but decided to let it go and get up instead. They were really going to have to talk about where things stood. Ken was obviously still upset about the not-spending-the-night thing in the past they’d gotten into just before Bailey came home.
A few minutes freshening up made him feel nearly human, and he headed downstairs to find Bailey watching a Disney movie and Ken working on his laptop. Something that smelled great was cooking in the kitchen.
“Hi, guys,” he ventured, and was greeted cheerfully, if a bit absently, by Bailey, who was absorbed in her show.
Ken remained silent as he glanced up dispassionately and then closed his laptop and began to put it in a bag.
Starting to feel a bit panicked at the abrupt change from being cared for and wooed to being completely shut out, Cory tried again. “Something smells good. Have you guys eaten?”
“Bailey wanted to finish her movie first.”
Well, at least he got a response. “Thanks for making dinner,” he ventured, but Ken was back to the silent treatment as he walked over to put the laptop case next to a duffle bag by the door. His jacket was draped on the hall tree, and Cory knew the sight of gathering to leave when he saw it.