TIME OFF

 

 

AARON HAD been hurt on the job a couple of times before. Once he’d been hit by a car—fortunately not head-on—and once he’d been grazed in the shoulder.

Both times what had hit him the hardest was not facing his own mortality; it was facing his own inactivity.

He was off the job for six weeks. He knew that. Logically, it took him a week to walk through the house and out and around the yard without getting winded. The doctor may have said he was healing fine, but he could feel his dissolvable stitches right up until they dissolved, and the man might very well have had the finesse of one of those guys who carves images on the head of a pin with a feather, but Aaron could swear he felt his flesh knit and resolve itself into scar tissue.

And that hurt too.

So he knew going to work was not an option, and while Eamon kept him briefed—Percy, for example, had a verbal warning, a written citation, and two weeks off without pay for drawing down on their civilian asset and not backing off—he wasn’t so much as tempted to go in.

But being inactive around the house was driving him batshit.

He couldn’t go running with Larx in the mornings, and that peeved him to no end. Aaron thought it was great that Olivia’s boyfriend had started going with him—Elton seemed to need some direction in his life, and hey, giving young people direction was the thing Larx did best. But Aaron was also jealous.

Supremely, stupidly, madly jealous of the young man who got more of Larx’s time than Aaron did. Aaron had thought his inner twelve-year-old could be staved off by action-adventure movies and the dog, but apparently that brat was on full-on whine in his head, going “But he’s my friend, not yours!”

The mandate was clear—no running in the icy mountain air for at least six weeks after a punctured lung, but Aaron was climbing the walls.

About two weeks after he came back home, the air was still frigid and snow was still dumping periodically in the Sierras. March didn’t always look like spring in Colton, even two Saturdays before Easter. It would have been a great day to sleep in, to snuggle, to catch up on movies and maybe clean the fridge.

Instead Larx’s alarm went off, and he literally fell out of bed. Aaron heard the thump and sat up, relieved when nothing in his chest or abdomen twinged beyond normal.

“Larx? Baby? You okay?”

“I’m your baby,” Larx said happily from the floor. “I like it when you call me that. It’s sweet.”

“Well, baby, you were up awfully late last night. You sure you don’t want to sit this run out? It’s Saturday.” Aaron longed for him to stay in bed, just this once. For two weeks Larx had been doing double Dad duty—taking kids places, planning their days, planning their meals. Aaron had been trying to help, but even though he’d gotten progressively stronger, he was still so limited. At this point even driving was purely theoretical.

In practice, every time the SUV so much as went over a pothole, he gasped and expected pain. Larx was jumping through hoops to orchestrate the family’s day so Aaron didn’t have to drive a fucking car.

It was humiliating.

And it was killing Larx.

The night before had been a school board meeting—nothing huge or earth-shattering, unlike the one in October—but still, important. Larx had gone and asked for a review of the district’s process regarding CPS, to see if there was any way possible a situation like Candace Furman’s was not repeated.

He’d been blown off—and his friend Nancy had to stand up and tell everybody at the meeting about Larx’s heroics three weeks earlier. He’d gotten a smattering of applause, and that was about it—according to Yoshi, who was a more honest reporter than Larx in these issues, anyway.

Aaron was getting a commendation for heroism—and he’d been wearing a goddamned vest.

The whole thing made Aaron want to just curl over his lover like Dozer curled over his stuffed bunny, but dammit, Larx wouldn’t sit still long enough to cuddle!

But it was Saturday morning, nothing was planned, nothing was pressing. They’d even talked about going to a movie after Larx poked around his winter garden—maybe taking Olivia and Elton so they could talk.

Because Olivia was working so hard—helping Jaime, making meals for him and his brother, planning the nursery, looking for her own online job. But reports about what was going on in her heart weren’t good. That was maybe the only reason Elton had been so excited about running—it gave him a chance to talk to Larx about depression and triggers and the things that seemed to send Olivia screaming into bed to haul the covers over her head.

Elton himself had started consulting work for a video game company—he was making enough to cover expenses, and he’d signed up for insurance under the company he was consulting for. Wasn’t permanent, but the pay wasn’t bad, and Olivia’s one source of joy was how much people seemed to want Elton’s work.

But Maureen had left the week before, and she’d spent part of her time keeping Aaron company when everybody went to school and part of her time trying to help Olivia fix up the upstairs of Aaron’s house—maybe they should start calling it his “rental property” now, since Jaime and Berto had moved in the week before—and getting Olivia into a better headspace.

“Dad, it’s horrible. I remember her from high school, and she was so bright and shiny. She knows how she used to look at the world, how she used to feel, but she can’t remember how to feel that way. And every time I talk to her about the baby—she just cries harder.”

But Aaron never saw that. Olivia greeted him with a quiet smile and food or discussion of curtains or help picking out baby equipment, because Larx wasn’t great at researching safety and Aaron was.

Larx’s daughter was doing all the “things” people did to prove they weren’t depressed.

Except feeling better—she was skipping that one.

And just this once, Aaron wanted Larx to not run off into the ether. Just this once, Aaron wanted Larx in his bed, to touch, to be Aaron’s and Aaron’s alone.

God. Even to pretend to have sex. Aaron’s blood pressure had just been cleared—they weren’t going to break any furniture or set any records, but finally they could talk about sex like it was a thing.

“You want me to come back to bed?” Larx asked, bewildered still.

Aaron scooted over to the edge and looked down. “Please, baby?” he begged. “For me? It would be really awesome if I got you to myself for a morning. Please?”

Larx’s eyes focused and his expression softened. “Yeah? Just… a lie-in?”

“Yeah.” Aaron felt his smile go lopsided. They were just gazing at each other, Aaron in bed, Larx on the floor. “I’d like to… you know. Touch you.”

Larx’s lips—usually sort of lean—made a plush little O as he thought about touching.

“C’mon, Principal,” Aaron begged quietly. “Come to bed with me.”

Larx pushed up and climbed back in, shivering with reaction to being outside the blankets.

“If you think so,” he whispered breathily.

Aaron pulled his wiry body—thinner now than it had been a month ago—up against his own bulkier form. Oh! It felt so good to have his man in his arms. He loved Larx’s hard, runner’s muscles, his sleekness, the way he wriggled to be closer.

Aaron spanned Larx’s chest with his hand and whispered into his ear. “Some days, you just belong here with me.”

The sound Larx made was of total human surrender. “God. Yes. Can we… just today…?”

His phone buzzed, and he groaned.

“No!” Aaron protested.

“Let me tell him I’m bailing,” Larx muttered. “Here….” He reached over and grabbed it, pulling open the text box. “Not today, Elton. I have a man in my bed—”

“You are not!” Aaron laughed, although at this point he wouldn’t have cared. God, he missed their time together.

“Shit!” Larx sat up in bed, the change in demeanor so abrupt it was frightening.

“Shit what?” Aaron asked, sitting up too.

“Elton’s parents just landed in Sacramento. They’re renting a car, and they’ll be here in two to three hours.”

“Where are they going to sleep?” Aaron asked, shocked. “The roof?”

Larx let out a harsh bark of laughter. “That’s about it. Good Lord!”

He texted frantically for a minute and then slumped back into bed. “Apparently it’s news to Elton as well. They’re here to convince him to come back to San Diego.”

“Well, that’s douchy.”

Larx fell back against the pillows and gave Aaron a sideways look through long, dark lashes. “We have two options here,” he said softly. “We can run around the house like headless chickens screaming, ‘The in-laws are coming! The in-laws are coming!’—”

“Or?”

“Or we can go back to what we were doing, get up in an hour, and let Elton’s parents come visit us while our entire menagerie is still in pajamas.”

Aaron plumped down in the pillows next to him and regarded Larx soberly.

“I need this time with you,” he said bluntly. “I miss you. I miss us. I get that we have kids and you’ve been running your ass off trying to be principal/dad/nursemaid, but I’m tired of missing you. I don’t even care if it’s selfish. Please, baby. Even if we just go back to sleep. Even if these people hate our pajamas. Please, just lie down next to me for another hour?”

Larx’s eyes grew fond again, and he reached out with the hand not holding his phone and stroked Aaron’s jaw softly with his fingertips. “How could anybody not like our pajamas?”

“Plaid’s always in style.” Aaron sure hoped so—he’d been wearing it an awful goddamned lot in the past few weeks.

“Mm….” Larx burrowed his hands under Aaron’s T-shirt, where the bandages and the stitches had lived until the day before. His touch was light, exploratory, and he was blessedly ginger around the ridges of Aaron’s scars, but his hands felt so good. “You know what would really be in style?” he asked, batting his lashes.

“Skin,” Aaron purred, breathing the word softly in his ear. He reached down, shoving his hand under Larx’s sweats and kneading that tight, solid ass. “God, this feels good. It shouldn’t, ’cause it’s all muscle, nothing plush, but—”

Larx kissed him to shut him up.

This was usually Aaron’s move, but he wasn’t going to object. This wasn’t a kiss of comfort or a kiss of connection. This was a full-on, openmouthed, tongue-dueling, octopus-handed kiss of romance and sex and naked bodies that should be writhing on the bed if it weren’t for all the goddamned clothes.

Aaron moaned and rolled over on his back, hoping Larx would take the hint. Supporting his weight on his elbows would hurt, but Aaron would lick, suck, nibble, and tongue anything Larx put in his way.

Larx apparently felt the same way. He started out by nibbling on Aaron’s neck, on his earlobe, licking a line down his throat. Aaron gave a happy little sigh and reached down to pull his T-shirt up. Larx took over, shoving it gracelessly to Aaron’s armpits and sniffing Aaron’s chest and scars experimentally, like a cat on a new patch of grass.

“What are you doing?” Aaron chuckled.

“I want to see how my property changed.” Larx sent him an endearingly grumpy look from under his brows. “I told you to take care of my property, and it got scuffed, and I want to see where the scuffs are.”

“Mm. Here.” Aaron twined their fingers together, keeping his index finger free. “This here—” He traced a puncture between his ribs where they’d put the valve in his lung to help with inflating it and keeping the fluid out. “—this is where they pulled the rib out of my lung.”

“Ouch,” Larx said softly.

“I was unconscious,” Aaron reassured him. “But my chest still hurts when I walk outside, so I’ll assume it happened.”

Larx kissed the inch-long incision gently. “To make it better.”

Aaron’s whole body shuddered. “That worked.” He pulled their twined hands to the incisions on either side of his abdominal muscles. “These,” he said, “were to repair the things—spleen, kidney, lower intestine—that got torn by my ribs or burst by the impact.”

Larx moved down and kissed those too. “Ouchie,” he whispered.

“Yeah.” Healing, sweet and blessed, flowed through him, and he pulled their hands to his left pectoral, flattening his hand and turning it palm up so Larx’s was palm down. “This—”

“There’s no scars here.” Larx peered up at him, a smile in his eyes.

“You can’t see it,” Aaron told him, sober as a judge. “This is where my heart aches when I see you working so hard, taking all the burdens on your shoulders, and I can’t help.”

Larx’s eyes grew bright and shiny, and he bit his lower lip as it quivered. “You’re afraid to drive,” he said baldly.

“It’s scary,” Aaron told him, and admitting that something so simple scared him wasn’t as hard as he thought it would be. “I got knocked off my feet, backward. And it wasn’t in a car, but… but I feel that weightlessness and it… it terrifies me.”

“Mm.” Larx kissed his chest, pausing to be distracted by Aaron’s right nipple, and Aaron let the sheer sexuality wash through him again. He kneaded his fingers softly in Larx’s hair and bucked his hips, because arousal was a luxury, and he wanted to savor it.

Larx let him go with a pop and smiled, tranquil in this moment as Aaron hadn’t seen him in a month.

“What about you?” Aaron asked softly, heart in his throat. This moment was so lovely—he hated to trample on it by pushing too hard.

But Larx surprised him—as he often did—in the best of ways. “These,” he said, dragging their twined hands to the corners of his eyes, “are from trying to figure out how to get Christi to her PSATs, Kirby to his college tour, and Kellan to his basketball game when we don’t have that many cars.”

Aaron chuckled. Elton had walked in while Larx was having that discussion. He’d calmly said, “My car’s fixed. Livvy and I will take Kirby, Christi can drive Livvy’s car, and you can go see Kellan play.”

Larx’s entire body had almost melted—Aaron had felt his relief on a visceral level from across the room.

“That’s a scar,” Aaron agreed, pleased when Larx smiled. Then he grew sober, and Aaron prepared himself. This game was really very serious.

“These,” he said, using his index finger to outline the deepened grooves around his mouth, “are from yelling at my daughter and knowing she’ll hate me for a moment, but doing anything—anything, to get her out of the house, get her blood flowing, get her appetite back, so she can make better decisions about her health.”

Aaron nodded, his own heart aching. He’d known this was weighing Larx down—but not once had Larx told him. He used his free hand to rub his thumb along the corner of Larx’s mouth. “That would leave a mark,” he agreed.

Larx nodded, then swallowed and pulled both their hands to his chest. “And this,” he whispered, just as downstairs exploded into chaos.

They both froze, locking eyes, Larx visibly shaking. There was a pounding at the front door, complete with a ringing doorbell, a barking dog, voices at the back door, and three teenagers bolting out of their rooms and running down the stairs yelling things like, “What the hell…? What the actual fuck…? For fuck’s sake, what in the actual hell!”

“Front door!” Christi called, and Kirby yelled, “Back door!” and Kellan yelled, “Dog! Dozer! The fuck! Get down!”

Aaron struggled to get his breath, to pull his emotions from the wobbly place he’d taken them, and Larx was obviously doing the same.

“Everybody’s here,” he said weakly.

“Baby….” Aaron wanted that moment back. Goddammit, he wanted that moment back. That precious, raw moment when Larx was still, his true heart on his sleeve, the words that would set them both free about to spill from his lips.

Larx shook his head and gulped in a breath with the same expression he used when he was running. “No baby,” he gasped. “Not now. Need to not be baby right now.”

Aaron wrapped his arms around Larx’s shoulders and gave him a hard squeeze, like he was literally pulling him back together. He released the pressure and kissed Larx’s temple.

“Let’s go deal,” he said. Larx rolled out of bed in his sweats and T-shirt, hair a disaster, expressive brown eyes more lost than Aaron had ever seen them. Aaron was still struggling to sit up when Larx pulled on his hooded sweatshirt and a pair of socks before putting his feet into his slippers and heading for the door.

“Larx!” Aaron begged, sitting up at last. “Wait—we can go down togeth—”

A man’s voice, raised in anger, echoed through the house, and the look they shared morphed into panic.

“I’ll get the thermostat,” Aaron said, because turning it up was the first thing they did when they got up. “Go!”

Larx took off, and Aaron managed to find his own zipper hoodie, socks, and moccasins so he could follow his boyfriend—shitty word. Goddammit, boyfriend was a shitty word for what he and Larx had been doing in that bedroom just now. But whatever the thing they were to each other, the huge, important, painful word, Aaron needed to follow him into the storm.

By the time Aaron got downstairs, headless chicken Armageddon pajama party was in full force.

Larx was standing in the middle of the living room with one hand on the dog’s collar and the other extended out in placation to a middle-aged couple—probably Elton’s mother and father—wearing the kind of leisure suits Aaron only saw in department store windows in the movies.

The kids were ranged around them, and Elton and Olivia were behind him, Elton standing with his shoulders angled away from the couple and toward Olivia in protection.

“I need you to contain your animal, sir!”

“This is his own goddamned house!” Larx snapped. “I need you to lower your fucking voice and stand down! You burst in here past my daughter and start yelling, and of course the dog thinks you’re an asshole! Now shut up and tell me what crawled in your puckered asshole and died! Oh—and while you’re at it, tell me who in the hell you are!”

Larx’s roar echoed off the walls of the living room, and even Dozer quieted down.

“I’m Shawn McDaniels, Elton’s father, and I demand to know why you won’t let my son return home!”

Larx frowned at him, genuinely puzzled. “Elton is free to come and go as he pleases. His car was fixed a week and a half ago—he’s staying here of his own free will.”

“Bullshit,” McDaniels snapped. “Nobody leaves a full ride in San Diego to shack up with some baby machine in the backwoods of Tahoe!”

“Dad, stop it!” Elton snapped back, putting Olivia behind him instinctively. God, Aaron liked this kid. “She’s right here, and you’re being an asshole. I tried to talk to you on the phone—I’ve been trying for weeks. You didn’t like what I said, so you and Mom get on your high horse and come bother these nice people? That’s awful. Do you realize how awful that is? Larx should let the dog eat you. You’ve violated their home, and I’m not talking to either of you until you lower your voices and calm the fuck down!”

Shawn McDaniels reacted as though slapped. “Who are these people, Elton? Did you even tell them we were coming?” He was a big, ruddy man with thinning red hair and the complexion of someone who liked a scotch or three after work. He was probably Aaron and Larx’s age, maybe five or so years older, but he looked sixty-five.

“Yeah, Dad, this is what half an hour’s notice looks like. Mom said you just got to Sacramento. What in the hell?”

“Sorry, honey,” his mother chimed in, glancing nervously at her husband. “I had the text all written, and I didn’t send it until Auburn, and then the reception was bad so I don’t think it sent until… well… when you got it.”

Larx tilted his head. “Wow. Just… wow. If you guys like, you can come into the kitchen and—”

“Are you going to put that animal outside?” McDaniels asserted.

“No.” Larx smiled when he said it, showing all his teeth. “I’d like the luxury of letting him eat your face if you get nasty again.”

McDaniels gaped once or twice, and to Aaron’s surprise, his wife gave a tiny smirk. “Mr. Larkin?” she asked hesitantly. “I’m, uh, Cheryl, Elton’s mother. We’re sorry about the time mix-up. And I’m sorry about my husband. We’re just concerned. Elton hadn’t even mentioned this girl—”

“My oldest daughter, Olivia,” Larx said stiffly. As much as Aaron approved of Larx standing up for himself, he was a little alarmed by the way he held his shoulders, his chest. Having his emotions so close to the surface, being assaulted by all this—Larx was pretty fucking resilient, but Aaron thought this might be the place where he snapped. “Please speak of her respectfully.”

“You, uh, certainly have a lot of children.” While Shawn fumed, Cheryl sent a conciliatory smile around the front room. “I’m sorry we didn’t get a chance to get introduced.”

Larx made a visible effort to calm down. “This is Christiana, Olivia’s younger sister, and—”

“Our brothers,” Christi said, her voice as cold as Aaron had ever heard it. “Kellan and Kirby.”

“Are you triplets?” Cheryl asked, agonized. “You don’t look anything alike, but you’re all… uh….”

Aaron stepped forward. “It’s confusing, I know. I’m Aaron George—”

“My stepdad,” Olivia said, speaking for the first time and giving Aaron a weak smile. “And his son, Kirby, and our foster brother, Kellan. He’s got two daughters too, but they’re grown and don’t live at home.”

“Wait,” Cheryl said uncertainly. “If Larx is your dad, and Aaron’s your stepdad, who’s Aaron married to?”

Boyfriends. Married. Husbands. Duh! “Larx and I are together,” Aaron said, and he realized he was edging forward so he could put himself between Larx, just like Elton had done with Olivia.

“Don’t you see?” Shawn McDaniels spat. “Cheryl, they’re homosexuals.”

“But who had the children?” Cheryl asked him.

“A test tube? Who cares! No wonder they’re so desperate for their kid to breed—but our son isn’t getting caught up in it!”

Aaron threw himself forward to keep Larx from lunging for Shawn McDaniels’s throat. “Larx! Larx! Dammit, he’s an asshole, but don’t—ouch!” In the scuffle, Larx’s shoulder hit him directly in the chest, and Aaron wasn’t quite healed yet.

Larx backed up, hand over his mouth. “Oh God. I’m so—”

“I’m fine.”

“Aaron, I’m so sorry—”

“Baby, it’s okay. It just twinged—”

Larx swallowed, and the thing Aaron had been waiting for finally happened.

He snapped.

“I’ve got to go,” he said brokenly and headed for the door, bending to grab his sneakers on his way out. Dozer followed him, and Aaron took a few quick steps after them and stopped, leaning against the couch with stars in front of his eyes because he wasn’t supposed to move that fast yet.

“Goddammit!”

Olivia and Elton were having a meeting with their eyeballs.

“I’ll get him,” Olivia said. “He’s only going on the loop. Don’t worry, Aaron, he won’t be alone.” She started for the backyard but paused at the door to speak to Elton’s parents. “Your son’s amazing,” she said, her voice wobbling. “He’s the kindest, most wonderful man. I’m not sure who you let raise him, but whoever it was, they did a really good job. You should tell them that.”

Aaron watched forlornly as she disappeared and then turned to the shocked people in the front room.

Only to have Elton step in front of him. “Dad, leave. You’re not welcome here until you apologize, and nobody’s ready for your apology yet.”

Shawn McDaniels gaped again. “What in the—”

“This is Deputy Sheriff Aaron George. The night I got here, I’d wrecked my car and bumped my head. Aaron picked me up on the side of the road, figured out where I was, who I was, and called Olivia. He didn’t yell. He didn’t threaten. He took a goofy—” Only the family could hear the pause. “—wombat and made him feel safe, and then called the girl I’d been searching for and convinced her I wouldn’t hurt her. He’s in pain because he got shot that night, in the line of duty, so maybe don’t act like you’re going to bully him, because the kids and I would have to hurt you.”

Elton’s father took a step back, a flush of shame washing his already red face.

“The guy you just sent spinning into a rage was Mr. Larkin, the high school principal. The night Aaron got shot, he was dying to stay with him, to worry. Mom, remember when Dad got sick and you almost got us evicted because you didn’t remember to pay the bills? They shut the electricity off, repoed the car—”

“Yeah, honey,” Cheryl murmured, and Aaron knew the mortification on her cheeks for what it was. “I remember.”

“Larx left the hospital and found a kid lost in the snow. He faced off against her stepdad with a gun to get her back. And then he made sure Aaron was okay for the night and came and made sure we were okay. Not just us either. One of Aaron’s daughters, two guys who got caught in the crossfire that night and aren’t doing that well. He was taking care of the world—when all he really wanted to do was take care of his husband. So you guys, coming in here like your shit is the only shit in the world—that’s bad. It’s dumb. I don’t care if you’re the district assemblyman to the rest of the goddamned county, Dad—here, you’re nobody. And you’re not going to be anybody until you get your head out of your ass.”

“Elton!” his mother yelped, but Elton shook his head.

“Mom, that girl who just ran after her father? She’s carrying your grandbaby. You make sure he knows, he either acts decent or you two will never see that baby. Ever. And you’ll never see me again either. Now go.”

“Son—” Shawn McDaniels looked ready to parley. Aaron might have given him the benefit of the doubt.

“No.” Elton shook his head. “No. Just….” And for the first time he looked as young and as lost as Aaron had first seen him. “You hurt my family, Dad. You hurt people I care about by being a pompous ass. It’s going to take a while to forgive. Go find a hotel in town—I’m pretty sure Larx and Aaron would offer you a room, but they’ve got two houses full of people who deserve one more than you. Call me tomorrow.”

Elton’s eyes grew hard again, and he firmed up his lower lip. Aaron stood up to his full height so he could step in front of Elton.

“You heard him,” Aaron said, trying not to breathe too hard. “You need to leave, Assemblyman McDaniels.” The name vaguely rang a bell now—a district down south. Far, far away from Colton County.

McDaniels scowled, but his wife turned to him and gestured with her chin. “Shawn, if you fuck this up now, I’ll never forgive you.”

And for the first time, Aaron saw signs of redemption in the man. His face softened and he put his hand up, like he’d rest it on her shoulder.

“But, Cheryl—”

“We need to leave.”

And then she turned and walked out of the house. McDaniels followed her, pausing at the entryway and looking around.

It was like he saw them, for the first time, as they were. A family, awakened out of bed, to have a hostile stranger try to take away one of their own.

He took a deep breath and looked suddenly older. “This was… badly done,” he said after a moment. Then he sagged deeper into himself. “I’m sorry. I’ll… I’ll try again.”

And then he left.

Christiana waited until the front door closed and turned back around to Elton. “Wombat Willie, I am pretty damned impressed!”

Elton smiled and turned his head—but Aaron saw the wobble of his lip too.

“Well done,” Aaron said quietly. “Guys, since we’re up, do you want to start waffles and coffee—”

“And hot chocolate!” Christi said, and although she sounded almost desperately cheerful, Aaron appreciated the effort. She paused on her way to the kitchen and gave Aaron a careful hug. “Don’t worry. He’s coming back.”

Aaron closed his eyes. “I couldn’t go after him,” he confessed, needing that comfort more than he wanted to admit. “We… we started out running together, you know?”

Christiana’s hug grew stronger. “Yeah. I know. He just needed some space.”

Aaron nodded and kissed the top of her head. “Yeah.”

“Here. You go sit down and talk to Elton. Me and the guys’ll make waffles. We can all take a minute to wake up, because geez! It’s not even seven yet? Holy Christ! Those people had better apologize with chocolate.”

Christi stomped to the kitchen, and Aaron found the nearest chair at the kitchen table and sank down.

“I’m so sorry,” Elton said, head in his hands. “So sorry. Larx has been trying to get me to talk to my parents, and I finally tried the night before last. Dad got mad and hung up and… I had no idea he could get that mean.”

Aaron grimaced. “Well, I think it’s a good thing they live a long way away,” he said diplomatically. “You and Olivia seem to be getting your world together, you know?”

Elton nodded glumly, leaning forward to rest his chin on his hands. “We had plans today,” he said, seemingly at random. “There’s this… this outpatient depression clinic in Auburn. Since that’s like an hour and a half away, we were thinking of getting, like… like a long-term hotel room there. It’s a two-week course. We were going down to meet the doctors and stuff and check out options”

Oh. Wow. “Did Larx know about this?” Aaron asked, hurt.

“Only a little. He looked it up and suggested it to her so she could say, ‘Jesus, Daddy, get out of my life!’ Then I moved in a couple of days later and said, ‘Babe, look! They’ve got classes on pregnancy and depression and what kinds of meds you can take!’ And then we let her think about it.”

Aaron couldn’t help it. He had to laugh. “Jesus, Elton. You guys are pretty Machiavellian.”

Elton rolled his eyes. “I think I flunked that class, whatever it was. But she was going for it. She… she wanted help. I was going to ask my parents for money—”

“We’ll pay,” Aaron said, absurdly moved. Going to his parents had to have been hard in the first place.

“Yeah, but, you guys. You’ve given me all the stuff. I wanted to give you something too.”

Aaron gave into temptation and ruffled Elton’s hair, seeing how Larx could love all the kids and still have a soft spot for his own personal few. “You… you should have seen yourself,” he said softly. “I’m not sure about your dad, but I’m proud of you. Anybody who loves you should be proud of how you stood up for people you cared about. I see why Olivia’s so smitten. Why she wants to try so hard. You’re way worth it.”

Elton gave a watery little smile. “Thanks, Aaron. I mean, I know you’re, like… like my girlfriend’s dad’s boyfriend, but that’s the nicest thing a dad has ever said to me, and I’m going to take it.”

“Stepdad,” Aaron corrected gently. “You said I was her stepdad. And Larx’s husband. Let’s use those words, okay?”

Elton looked at him and smiled gamely. “Those are good words. I like those words. Maybe you should say them to Larx, you think?”

Aaron frowned. “Has he said anything?”

“No.” Elton looked away and started picking at a splinter on the unfinished table. “But I was thinking, you know. I kept trying to call the people in the mental health place, and I would say ‘Olivia’s boyfriend,’ and I got no love. So I said ‘the father of her baby,’ and they talked to me some more. But if I said ‘I’m her husband,’ that would have got their attention right quick. And then, these last few weeks, running with Larx, I kept thinking of you as his husband. ’Cause—and no offense, but you guys aren’t… you know. My age. I mean, boyfriend, right? Kellan has a boyfriend. You got something more.”

Aaron regarded him with raised eyebrows, the ornery part of him wanting to protest. He wasn’t too old to have a boyfriend or a girlfriend, was he? What about a man-friend? What about a lover?

But lover sounded too personal to say in front of his children, and man-friend too impersonal for the guy who’d spent the last few months being a stepdad to the same kids.

And a boyfriend was someone who could run out that door and never come back.

Larx would come back—Aaron had no doubts.

But he needed a better name.