Solace (9 page)

He didn’t ask where Buttercup was. He didn’t move away, either, neither backing up to the wall or sidestepping to avoid Shane’s obvious pursuit.

Instead, he just swallowed hard. His eyes burned.

“You sure I can’t have just a little treat?” Shane asked huskily.

“I—”

Shane advanced. Aaron didn’t retreat, and that lack of action sealed both of their fates.

His hands roughly cupped the sides of Aaron’s face. His lips came down on the other man’s, hard and firm and wanting. He kissed him with an explosion of passion and aggression, channeling everything that had been building in his gut into that one, searing action.

And Aaron didn’t pull away. He didn’t shove at Shane’s chest. He didn’t demand the man stop. Instead he moaned against Shane’s mouth, a delicious sound that sent a jolt of pure lust through Shane’s body.

And he kissed back.

It wasn’t the shy, passive kiss Shane might have expected. It was the needy kiss he’d hoped for. A kiss that spoke of a simmering desire just waiting to be stoked into a blaze. It was desperate and heady and all the things Shane needed in that very moment. It gave him a way to keep from thinking. A way to keep from feeling anything but this insistent desire.

Aaron’s lips were already parted, and Shane was quick to thrust his tongue between them. He met Aaron’s, and while the stroke wasn’t as confident as Shane would have liked, Aaron matched him with enough for him to work with.

He pressed his body to Aaron’s, pinning him to the wall. With a shift of his hips, he got what he wanted. The hard ridge of Aaron’s arousal pressed against his thigh, hot and heavy through his slacks. A low growl rumbled through Shane’s throat, met by a soft moan from Aaron.

But Aaron didn’t rock back against him. He didn’t move his hands to Shane’s shoulders or slide them under his shirt invitingly. Instead, he put them against Shane’s chest. A gentle pressure at first, as if reluctant. Then he gave a firm shove, separating their bodies. Shane pulled his lips from Aaron’s with a gasp.

“This isn’t going to work,” Aaron said, his voice rough in a way that definitely didn’t do anything to help calm Shane’s body.

“Seems like it’ll work just fine to me,” Shane said in a low tone.

“I mean it,” he said when Shane reached out for him again. “I can’t do this. And you can’t just…”

The red he saw in Aaron’s cheeks now might have been a side effect of their kiss. A flush of arousal lighting through his body. But his eyes told a different story. He looked confused, yeah. He still had that thread of want lacing through him. But he also looked… angry.

Of course he looked angry. Shane had all but pounced on him out of nowhere. Shit.

“You can’t just keep doing this. If you don’t want me to help you…” Aaron drew in a deep breath. “Call me when you feel like taking this seriously,” he finished before starting toward the door.

This time, Shane wasn’t blocking the doorway. He stepped back to give Aaron room. But as he watched the man leave, panic flared in him. What if he didn’t come back? What if Shane was left to figure this out on his own? One stolen kiss—a few moments to slake his lust and still his mind—wasn’t worth the risk of never seeing his kid again.

“Aaron, wait.”

Aaron stopped, but he didn’t turn. His body was rigid. Shane knew better than to approach him, so he just leaned his weight against the wall and spoke softly.

“I’m sorry. That… was a stupid fucking thing to do.”

“Yes, it was.”

“I’m not going to bullshit you, man. That was a pretty hot kiss, and my dick’s probably going to stay hard for a week thinking about it.”

Aaron seemed to almost twitch, but he still didn’t turn around. It was probably safer that way.

“If you wanted to pick it right back up, I’d be more than happy to make use of the bed and—”

“I got the picture,” Aaron said, and his shoulders shook as he let out a breath.

“But you don’t. I get it. It’s cool, and I won’t push anything. I just…”

He was going to explain why he’d done what he’d done. Why his brain flipped the switch from feeling like he was being buried under his anxieties to tuning out all sense of right and wrong. He hadn’t been raised to be this man. He hadn’t started being this man until he was deployed.

But he didn’t know how to explain it. What would he say?
When I feel like my world is spinning out of control, I have to fuck something? Hey, at least it’s better than shooting heroin between my toes?
No. Aaron was too good a guy to hear an explanation like that. It was fucked up and it sounded a lot more unrepentant than Shane was comfortable with.

“This isn’t easy for me,” he admitted.

He let his back rest all the way against the wall, and then he slid down it. He hadn’t felt like he was going to collapse, but once that lust was gone, chilled away by Aaron’s rejection, he was just left with the crushing weight of everything that had built before that.
Fuck.
Even if Aaron did want him, he wasn’t good for more than this.

Aaron seemed to sense the change in him. He finally turned around, and his expression was unreadable. He wrapped his arms about himself, looking down at Shane.

“It’s my kid,” Shane said after a long bout of silence.

Aaron just stared at him, blinking. “Your kid?”

“She’s why I wanted to get a service dog. My ex… she won’t let me see her. It’s the first place I went when I got back to the States. Couldn’t wait to hold her again, you know? And she wouldn’t even let me in.”

Aaron’s brows knit together. “Because of your PTSD?”

Shane let out a breath. There was a lot more to it than that. But that was the easiest answer. The one that required the least amount of information on his part. “Yeah. Because of my PTSD.”

Slowly, Aaron started to move. Shane got the feeling that any movement on his part would spook the man, and so he kept his ass firmly planted on the ground, his back against the wall. He watched Aaron sit on the very edge of the bed. This time, his brain didn’t take it as some unspoken invitation. The bed was just the closest place to sit that wasn’t the floor.

“That seems… harsh.”

“It’s warranted,” Shane said quietly, and he waited for Aaron to ask for more of an explanation than that.

He never did. Shane let out the breath he’d been holding.

“Does she know you’re trying to…” He didn’t finish with the expected “get help.” Instead, he seemed to change tactic halfway through. “Does she know you’re training a service dog?”

“No,” he said, letting his head rest back against the wall, too.

Aaron looked at him, staying silent for a long moment. He fidgeted, shifting his weight on the edge of the bed. Shane watched him lick his lips and felt the stirring of lust again, but tamped it down. It was made that much easier when Aaron reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.

Aaron leaned down, pressing it to the floor. He tried to slide it, but it bounced on the carpet. Shane grabbed it, having to lean out to get it where it landed a couple feet from him.

“What’s this for? You want me to call someone who cares?” He tried to give that cavalier smile he was so good at, but he felt it fall flat.

“Call your ex. Tell her what you’re doing. And ask her…” Aaron took a breath, as if having to psych himself up for the last part. “Ask her if you can see your daughter again. And if that doesn’t work, hand me the phone and I’ll… if I have to, I’ll ask.”

Shane just stared at him, looking for some indication that Aaron was just getting back at him for earlier. But Aaron looked dead fucking serious. Those caramel eyes had darkened into muddled copper, and Shane was transfixed for a moment before he pulled himself out of it.

“Why?”

“Because you deserve to see her,” Aaron said without missing a beat.

Shane was floored. Aaron had said nothing about making it up to him for being an asshole. No ultimatums. Instead, Aaron was trying to tell him he deserved more than the burning sack of shit life had kindly left on his doorstep.

Shane’s mouth worked, but he didn’t know what to say. Instead, he looked down at the phone. Hope—such a dangerous emotion—got hold of him, threading through his being until he could feel himself swiping the screen and tapping in Shell’s number.

S
hane half expected
something to go wrong.

Shell would call to cancel. Her new boyfriend would show up with a 30-gauge and blow out his tires. The earth itself would open up and fucking swallow him down.

Anything but the smooth, easy ride he was currently experiencing.

Shell had agreed almost right away. He’d managed to stumble through an explanation of what he was doing, and she’d sounded sympathetic. She’d even apologized for what had happened the first time he came over. And then Shane had felt like an idiot, and spent the rest of the night feeling that way because if he’d known it would be that easy, he wouldn’t have wasted so long with his thumb up his ass.

But that was the thing. It
was
easy. Too easy.

It was even easy to get Aaron to go along with him. The man sat in the passenger seat, on the other side of the small bench in his truck. Only a little hump in the middle separated them, and because Shane’s long legs never really fit right, he occasionally touched Aaron’s leg with his knee. Buttercup was in the back, in a sturdier travel kennel that Shane now kept in his truck.

He didn’t feel that guilty over using her to get Aaron to come along, saying he wanted to make sure he didn’t fuck anything up with her training. She hadn’t seemed to mind, and he’d be sure to give her lots of extra pets later to make up for it.

He didn’t know why he wanted Aaron there, aside from the fact that he was terrified the rug was going to be pulled out from under him. Aaron couldn’t help with that, but he’d at least be witness to it, and Shane could have proof he wasn’t just crazy for worrying about these things happening.

If he was honest, though, he’d come to like having Aaron around; come to expect his presence as part of his day. He wouldn’t say it was calming. He hadn’t made a move on Aaron since the incident at his house, but that didn’t mean that sense of want had dissipated. It was… steadying, though. The world felt less like it was spinning out of control when Aaron was around.

“This is a nice neighborhood,” Aaron said innocuously, his voice just barely louder than the soft hum of the radio.

“Yeah. Michelle rents right now, but before I got deployed we were thinking about buying a house in a place like this.”

Shane surprised himself with that admission, as if he were just reciting an obvious fact. It was obvious to him. Things had been one way, once. Now they weren’t. But out of the corner of his eye he could see Aaron watching him, and he thought he caught the barest hint of pity before the emotion fled.

“I know you’re going to say a kid shouldn’t grow up in a broken home, but it’s better this way. Shell and I had Becca young, and we got married young. We were totally different people back then, and the people we are now… they just don’t mesh as anything more than friends.”

And Shane didn’t know if they were even that anymore.

Aaron was silent, but Shane caught movement out of the corner of his eye. Aaron was wringing his hands, staring distantly out the window. He’d spent enough time with the man to know that his fidgeting meant he was gearing up to say something. Shane had also learned not to interrupt. Either he said it, or he didn’t. Shane’s curiosity wasn’t reason enough to force him.

“Is it because you realized you were… I mean, I didn’t know when you…”

Apparently they were going to be stuck between saying it and not saying it. Shane tried to puzzle out what the man meant, following that train of thought to every possible station. The most obvious answer pulled a smirk from him.

“No. And I’m not.”

Aaron’s eyes widened, and in the small space of the cab, he could practically feel his body stiffen. Shane was quick to clarify.

“You figure Shell and I don’t work anymore because I realized I’m gay. That’s not what happened. We don’t work because…” Because they’d been from the same world to start with, but ended up in completely different ones over the course of a few years. “Because we don’t. And I’m not gay. I just fooled around with some guys overseas. Happens a lot more often than you’d think.”

He didn’t know what he was. He was obviously attracted to men, but he just didn’t see himself having a future with a man. He saw another man’s needs as syncing up with his own. That was it. At least, that was how it had been overseas. When he was desperate and horny and eager to forget, he could always find another guy who was just as desperate and horny and eager to forget.

Did that make him bi? Maybe. But he wasn’t all that eager to label himself. He didn’t want to give anyone false hope.

“Oh,” Aaron said simply, and one syllable had never had so much power before.

Shane took his eyes off the road to look at the man, torn completely out of his convoluted web of thoughts.
Oh.
Aaron’s tone was halfway between indignant and morose.
Oh.
That one word suddenly became the most compelling mystery on the planet, and he didn’t really know why. He didn’t owe Aaron an explanation. Nothing was going to happen; Aaron had been clear about that.

But he found himself wanting to explain. Wanting to apologize somehow, for being who he was.

Thankfully, the driveway rushed up to meet his truck, and he was saved by the fact that if he didn’t concentrate on putting his foot on the brake, he was going to crash right into the Chevy parked in front of him.

Which, considering it was David’s, wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

Shane threw the truck into park and opened up the half-rusted door. The cab creaked as he got out, shifting as his weight left the bench.
Oh.
That one word had turned his entire world upside down.

And because it was gnawing at him, he almost asked Aaron what the hell he meant by it when he stepped out of the truck, too. But he was saved again, this time by the opening of Shell’s front door.

It wasn’t Shell who stood there, though. It wasn’t her redneck boyfriend, either. The person who stood in the doorway—and quickly jumped over the threshold, onto the porch, and down the stairs—brought a smile to his face so quickly that his cheeks started to hurt from the sudden effort of it.

“Daddy!”

That one word, so simple, suddenly became the most important and meaningful word in the universe. He could feel his eyes sting already, but he wasn’t going to cry. This was too good a moment for him to waste it by crying. Instead, he let that smile keep hurting his face, let those unshed tears keep stinging his eyes, so that each and every sensation would etch itself into his memory.

He knelt down, feeling the gravel dig into his knees. The sun blared fiercely at the back of his neck and his scalp. And when she rushed into his arms, even though he’d braced himself, she damn near knocked the breath out of his lungs.

He committed all of those sensations to memory, holding onto them fiercely. As fiercely as he wrapped his arms around his daughter, hugging her close.

“Hey, Becca-bear,” he said, his voice breaking halfway through the nickname.

She was taller than he remembered. Shell had said she’d hit a growth spurt, but the last time he’d hugged her like this, on his knees, she’d fit snugly against his chest. Now her head rested against his shoulder. And when he pulled back to look at her, he didn’t see the angelic features of the girl whose photo he’d kept with him at all times. She’d lost some of her baby fat. Her cheeks were less round, her nose a little more pointed, like his. Her eyes were still wide and expressive, but her whole face now had the look of a child who was transitioning into adolescence.

“I missed you,” she said, and her voice and eyes both held an accusation that speared through his heart.

“I missed you too, Pumpkin. Every day.”

That was the single most truthful thing he’d ever said in his life.

“Are you back now? For good? I cleared off a shelf for your books.”

The breath was stolen from his lungs a second time. He wanted to say yes. He wanted to tell her he was never going anywhere, and that he’d gladly move his collection of sci-fi and fantasy books back into the house. But he wouldn’t lie to her. That would be crueler than the truth.

“I’m back,” he said, choking out the words. “But I have a place to live, remember? Nana and Pop Pop’s house. It’s only about ten minutes away, though, and—”“

He wanted to tell her he’d visit all the time; that she could come over whenever she wanted. But he couldn’t, and it killed him.

“Becca, we talked about this.”

He hadn’t even realized Michelle had come out of the house, let alone that she was standing a few feet away. She was looking down at them with a sad sort of affection. She’d given her brother that look, before she’d told him that no, he couldn’t sleep on her couch for another few months. He needed to get back to his wife.

“I know,” Becca said, jutting out her bottom lip. “But you might change your mind.”

Shane looked up at Shell. That sadness in her seemed to grow.

“Let’s just worry about today, all right? I wanna hear all about what you’ve been up to.”

She smiled at that, a brilliant smile that seemed to fill Shane with an incandescent light. If his world had been spun upside down, it righted itself with that smile. And that was when he finally remembered he wasn’t alone.

“Actually, there’s someone I want you guys to meet first.”

He stood, not bothering to brush the bits of dirt off his jeans. Glancing over his shoulder, he gave Aaron a sheepish grin. “This is my friend, Aaron. He’s… helping me out with some things.”

Becca offered Aaron a much shyer smile, but it was nothing on how awkward Aaron looked. Shane almost laughed.

“Hi,” Becca said sweetly.

“Hi,” Aaron echoed.

Sensing he was going to have to save this nonexistent conversation, Shane went around to the back of his truck and let down the tailgate.

“And this is Buttercup.”

Becca followed him around to the back, and when he glanced to the house, he saw Shell had come closer, too. Aaron stood a good distance away from them, and Shane felt a brief frown tug at his lips.

It was chased away quickly by Becca’s reaction.

“You got a dog?! She’s so pretty!”

Buttercup whined, touching her paw against the kennel a few times as if asking to come out. Shane obliged, making sure to get her lead hooked up before he had her jump down.

Becca didn’t hesitate. She threw her arms around Buttercup, pulling the dog into a fierce hug that made Shane’s chest tighten. He watched the two of them with a smile, relieved. If Buttercup wasn’t good with kids, he didn’t know what he’d do.

Aaron cleared his throat, though, and Shane suddenly realized what he’d done wrong.

“Uh… Actually, I should’ve said something. Buttercup’s working right now, honey. If she gets too excited by hugs and pets, she won’t be able to do her job.”

Becca pulled back at this, looking up at him with some consternation. “Working?”

“Buttercup helps Daddy…” Function like a normal human being? “With a lot of different stuff.”

“Oh. Like the dogs from the police station?”

“Sort of,” he said with a smile.

Becca scrunched her nose. “But I visit Mom at work all the time, and I get to hug her.”

“I don’t think it’s quite the same, sweetie,” Shell said.

Becca didn’t look convinced, and Shane didn’t have it in him to tell her she shouldn’t give Buttercup all the hugs and kisses she wanted. It wasn’t like Buttercup minded. Her tail had gone a mile a minute.

“What does your mom do?” Aaron asked, seemingly out of nowhere.

“She’s a teacher,” Becca said proudly, then remembered she was supposed to be shy and hid behind Buttercup.

God love her.

“You probably don’t hug her in the middle of class, right? You have to wait until she’s done?”

Shane watched as Becca considered this. She nodded once, stroking Buttercup’s back.

“It’s the same with Buttercup. She’s working right now, so she has to concentrate really hard. If she doesn’t, she can’t do her job.”

“So no hugging.”

“No hugging,” Aaron said, and he genuinely sounded sad about it. “Not right now, anyway. I’m sure she’d love hugs when she’s off duty.”

Shane smiled, and Becca brightened right back up at that. For as much as he’d looked like a deer in the headlights at first, Aaron was actually pretty good at this.

“Why don’t you show your dad your new turtle?” Shell suggested.

“New turtle? What?!”

He said it with a sense of wonder, because he knew his excitement would make Becca happy. But as she all but dragged him into the house—with Buttercup along for the ride, and Shell taking the initiative to talk to Aaron—he couldn’t help but feel that sharp stab of pain.

He’d missed so many firsts. So many things that were important to his daughter; things she’d hold onto for years to come.

As Becca led him inside, though, Shane’s rush of sadness was replaced by something else.

Standing at the window was the same asshole he’d met the last time he’d come here. He knew the man was around, but knowing about his existence and seeing him were two completely different things.

David glared at him, and Shane glared right back. But when he felt Buttercup’s lead tighten, her posture turning into something Aaron definitely wouldn’t like, he forced himself to relax.

Hard to keep that up when the guy followed him and Becca, though, hovering right outside in the hallway.

“I don’t need supervision with my kid, thanks,” Shane ground out.

“I guess that’s a matter of opinion,” the man said, crossing his arms over his chest.

Shane’s hand balled into a fist.

“It’s fine,” Shell said, putting a hand on the man’s arm. “Go. You’re going to be late for your shift if you don’t leave now.”

Shane bit back his enthusiastic response, instead turning his attention toward his daughter as she brought him over to a little tank. He squinted, seeing only rocks at first.

“Is your turtle invisible?”

Becca giggled. “No. He’s right there.”

She pointed to an area of the tank that, to Shane, just looked like another cluster of rocks. But after a moment, he saw a tiny turtle poke its head out of its shell.