Chapter Seventeen

Rob paced in his living room. Since the day of their interrupted hike two weeks earlier, everything between him and Brian had eased out. Yes, Brian spent an inordinate amount of time at his shop, filling in far too many shifts. That hadn’t changed. But when he was with Rob—he was entirely with Rob. Bike rides, working on their photographs. Dinners. Shopping. Geocaching. Whatever they did together, Brian was wholly there.

That had been the silver lining to the uncomfortable episode. They’d always been so matched in bed—now they moved with the same grace and passion outside of the bedroom.

He checked the wall clock. It was almost exactly five minutes later than it had been the last time he’d looked—and still about an hour before Brian would arrive at his place.

They were going to the Keppler family dinner, where Rob would meet not just Brian’s parents—but his brother and sister, too.

Rob had walked into hostile board meetings when earnings were down, and ruled the room. He’d stood in front of jaded venture capitalists and given cases for why they should hand him hundreds of thousands of dollars and gotten the cash he needed.

Never in his life had he been the nervous wreck he was right now. He wouldn’t be facing business men and women—but Brian’s family.

His own had been tiny and dysfunctional and now dead and buried. All his previous relationships had either been short or meaningless.

How was he supposed to act? What was he supposed to say? He was forty years old, not some bumbling teen.

He didn’t even have siblings. What did he say to them?

When the doorbell rang, he nearly jumped out of his skin. A glance at the clock told him it was far too early for Brian to have arrived.

Except when he opened the door, that’s who stood on his doorstep. “Hey.”

No bike helmet. No bike. Just a backpack slung over one shoulder. “Hi.” He opened the door wider. “You’re early.”

Brian’s grin was sheepish. He strode through the door. “Yeah. I decided to take the bus rather than bike.” He stowed the bag near the stairs. “It’s warm and I didn’t want to be a sweaty mess.”

Rob liked when Brian was a sweaty mess, especially when he made him that way. There were no showers quite like the ones with Brian. “Pity.”

Brian chuckled and leaned in for a kiss. “Well, I am early.”

That was just invitation enough to deepen the kiss until Brian squirmed. Lovely. But as much as he wanted Brian, perhaps right before meeting his parents was not the time to fuck. He broke the kiss. “I’ll save the cream for dessert.”

Red flushed Brian’s cheeks. “No appetizer?”

For someone only two years younger, there were times when Brian exhausted him. He took a taste of those lips again. “I’ll make it up to you.”

A fake pout, then a smile. “I brought your prints.”

That made Rob’s heart tumble in an entirely different manner and he pulled Brian toward the living room. “Really?”

Brian resisted long enough to grab his backpack and extract two pieces of heavy cardboard. They sat down on the sofa. “Need to get them matted and framed, but I thought maybe you might want to sign them first.”

Sign them? That twisted something in his brain and his eyes misted. “You’re joking.”

“No.” Brian got one of his very serious looks. “Not at all. You’re the artist.”

Why did that put the fear of God into him? A moment later, Brian pulled out a set of eight glossy photographs from between the sleeve and Rob’s breath caught.

He knew the top image. He’d taken it up at McConnells Mill—part of the water wheel, the stream, and the spring trees in the background. Seeing it as a print—the fucking thing looked professional. Like a puzzle or a photo from a magazine or a work of art. So much better than the proofs had been.

He couldn’t speak.

A small, sympathetic smile on Brian, one that was quickly slipping toward amused.

Bastard. He knew.

The next was from the Carrie Furnace. A wild pansy blooming in the ruins of industry. Rust and steel and nature. Again, he knew he’d snapped the shot, could even smell the air and feel the excitement in his body, but the image took on a life of its own.

The other six photos were the same way. Stunning. Unbelievable that he’d captured those moments, even though he knew in his bones that he had.

He leaned back against the couch, his hands shaky. “These are . . . lovely.”

Brian took the photos from him and set them on the coffee table. “They are.” He took Rob’s hands. “They’re yours.”

No one could take that from him, either. Not his dead father and mother. Not a blackmailing lover. Not his job. Not even Brian, who’d helped him reach this point. He took a breath. “I don’t have a pen.” Didn’t even know what type would be best.

But lovely Brian did, of course. He reached into his backpack and pulled out a pen, every motion an act of saying I love you.

Rob swallowed, uncapped the pen, and signed on the bottom edge, where he’d seen such signatures on photographs before, and his heart just about beat out of his chest. When he was done with the photographs, he recapped the pen, placed it on the table, and leaned back. He could barely see through the mist in his eyes.

Silently and reverently, Brian collected the photographs and put them back into their sleeve. “I’ll get them framed for you.”

That was too much. He crooked his finger and beckoned Brian closer and of course he came. Rob pulled him the rest of the way, brushing his lips against Brian’s. “Thank you,” he whispered into Brian’s ear and held him tight, until the enormity of the emotions in his chest settled down.

Brian stroked his hair. “You’re welcome.” A murmur of sound.

How long they sat there holding each other, Rob didn’t know, but when his clock gently chimed the hour, he loosened his hold on Brian. “Did you plan to completely shatter me before we went to your parents?”

Brian opened space between them, his whole being a mix of amusement and contriteness. Entirely adorable. If they hadn’t had to walk several blocks in a few minutes, Rob would have pulled him off the couch and straight upstairs.

Brian scratched the back of his head. “I knew you’d be nervous and wanted to make you feel better. I guess I screwed up.”

“Not at all.” It had worked. He wasn’t as worried about Brian’s family, not when his heart was full of heat and light. He kissed Brian, a gentle sip of his lips, and rose.

Brian glanced at his watch and stood. “Yeah, I guess we should go.” His smile was broad. “You ready for this?”

Rob couldn’t help the laugh. “At forty? Absolutely not.”

They went anyway. Despite it having rained for the better part of Saturday, the clouds had lifted enough for sun to dry the pavement. A breeze had blown much of the humidity away and the fresh air cleared Rob’s head and put his emotions back together.

Soon, they were in front of a house smaller than his—more of a row house than his Victorian. Before he could even prepare himself, Brian caught his hand and pulled him up on to the porch and through the front door.

“I’m home!” Brian called out.

The reply came from where Rob guessed the kitchen might be. “We’re back here.”

Still holding Rob’s hand, Brian led him through the house into the kitchen and holy hell, he was staring at Brian’s parents while holding Brian’s hand. His throat tightened completely.

Boardrooms were very different from boyfriend’s parents’ kitchens. Smelled a damn sight better in here, but oh, the scrutiny was even more intense.

“Mom, Dad, this is Rob.” Brian gave his hand a squeeze, then let go.

“Hello. Very nice to meet you.” Somehow, he sounded normal, despite the constriction in his chest. He held out his hand to Brian’s father.

No hesitation at all. A firm shake. “Tony,” he said. “And this is Alice, Brian’s mother.”

He would have known that if he’d seen her anywhere. Same eyes. Same smile. But rather than shake his hand, she drew him into an enormous hug. “You’re as handsome as Brian said.”

And wasn’t Brian a pretty shade of red when his mum let Rob go, though given the warmth on his cheeks, he probably wasn’t far behind.

“Yes, well.” His laugh came out as more of a squeak. “He can exaggerate.”

She patted his arm. “Not this time.”

“Mom!” Yes, Brian was horrified and it was perfect, so much so that his cheeks hurt from smiling.

Fucking lucky man. His parents were gems. “Something smells fantastic,” he murmured and peeked over at the stove.

That redirected everyone.

“Homemade ravioli,” Tony said. “Beef and cheese. The cheese ones are for Zoe though, so I hope you like beef.”

Rob bit his tongue to keep there isn’t a meat I don’t like from popping out. “Beef is absolutely fine.” He paused. “Did you make them? Brian said you both cook?”

Indeed, both beamed and launched into how they’d made the pasta and the filling and worked in the kitchen together. It was heartwarming and beautiful. Halfway through, he slipped an arm around Brian’s waist. A hitch of breathing from Brian but a minute later, he relaxed into Rob.

This was exactly how family should be and everything he’d never had.

The lump in his chest returned with vengeance and it must have shown, because Brian’s mom took a step forward. “Is there something wrong?” Same concern he’d seen on Brian countless times.

He tried to smile around the pain. “Nothing at all. This is wonderful. I’ve been here”—He glanced at his watch—“ten minutes?” He met Alice’s stare. “I never had this.”

Another hug from her, this one bigger and warmer. “You’re welcome anytime.”

“They mean that, too,” Brian said.

Of course they did. They were the people who’d born and raised Brian and apparently the apple didn’t fall that far.

“So,” Tony said, “Brian says you’re a CEO?”

He couldn’t quite resist rolling his eyes. He gave Brian a rather poignant look.

He held up his hands. “Hey, you are.”

“It’s true. I am. Please don’t hold it against me.”

Brian’s parents laughed at that.

He was proud of his work and how far he’d gotten, but so many people had misconceptions about CEOs. Or perhaps he was different. He didn’t know.

Brian caught his hand again. “He’s also a photographer.”

Once again, a burning face. “I dabble.”

“You do more than that.”

“Bri—” Even he heard the exasperation in his voice. Oh God, they sounded like a couple. The knowing look that passed between Brian’s parents. A moment later Rob huffed a laugh. “Your son has been trying to convince me I have talent.”

“Tons of it.”

“And I’ve been resisting him.”

Tony snorted. “Good luck. He’s like his mother.”

Brian poked Rob in the side. “I get to have a professional opinion.” He went in for a full tickle.

Rob caught his hand before he could truly embarrass them. “Yes, yes. BFA. I remember.”

Another amused look from Brian’s parents. Thankfully, the front door banged open, and a woman’s voice cried out, in practically the same manner Brian had, “I’m here!”

“That’s Zoe,” Brian said, then shouted, “We’re in the kitchen!”

“Well of course you’re in the—” A woman with short black hair and a few piercings on her ear walked through the door and stopped dead in her tracks. “Oh, wow. You must be the boyfriend.”

“That would be me, yes.” He couldn’t help the smile. “You must be the sister.”

She had Brian’s blush, but recovered quickly. “Last time I checked, yeah.” Her smile was like everyone’s in this family—warm and inviting.

He would have introduced himself, but the front door sounded again. Once more, a call came, and this time both Brian and Zoe answered.

Rob turned to Brian’s parents. “Does this happen every time?”

“Pretty much, yes.” Alice said. She dusted her fingers on her apron, then untied it.

“I hear a voice I don’t know.” That from the man who walked into the kitchen.

Holy hell, the genes in this family. Brian’s brother was taller, but had the same all-American looks. Darker hair and he wore the uniform of a commercial airline pilot. He lacked Brian’s warm brown eyes and amazing arms, though.

His gaze was stern. “So, you’re the guy dating my little brother?” He crossed his arms and stared hard at Rob.

Fuck. Brian had said everyone was onboard with this. He resisted the urge to step back, and glanced at Brian.

Brian lifted a brow and snorted. “He’s fucking with you. This is Len, my overprotective elder brother.” He entwined his warm fingers with Rob’s. “And yes, this is my boyfriend, Rob.”

Len cracked a smile that tore away the mask and held out his hand. “Good to meet you.”

His shake, like Tony’s was firm and friendly. “Likewise.” He managed the word, but his heart was beating a bit fast.

As if Brian knew, he bumped his hip and gave his hand a squeeze. “You just get in, Len?”

Len’s shoulders dropped. “Yeah. Should have been back around eleven, but there was a large weather system in the plains causing all sorts of delays and reroutings. I’m just glad I’m home in time for dinner.”

Maybe it was the fleeting feeling that Len didn’t like him, but he wanted to make some sort of connection. “Sympathies,” he said. “I used to fly a lot.” Too much. Thank goodness there was less of that now.

“Chicago, right? Not a bad hop, but the timing’s always a crapshoot.”

Rob nodded.

Tony cleared his throat. “Len, would you mind fetching some wine from the cellar?”

A large smile. “Never in a million years. Red or white?”

Tony gestured to Rob. “Guest’s pick.”

“Red would be the most appropriate, yes?”

Len nodded and cracked a grin that was almost as brilliant as Brian’s. “Good choice.”

He said that to Brian—which meant it wasn’t about Rob’s wine selection. His cheeks couldn’t get hotter.

No wonder Brian was fast on his feet with the quips. Growing up in a family like this? You’d have to keep your brain and tongue sharp.

As Len vanished down into the basement, Brian’s mom spoke. “Zoe, why don’t you and Brian make a salad. Rob can help your dad set the table.”

Now that was odd, but nice to be thrown into the family like that. Tony gestured to the living room, and Rob followed. “She wants us to use the good plates.”

“Not on account of me, surely.” Still, he took the white china plates Tony pulled from the cabinet and handed to him. He laid them down in the appropriate spots.

Tony snorted. “Of course for you. Who else?”

Rob swallowed and took two wineglasses from Tony. Cut crystal. “I’m—” He shrugged and held up a glass. “Not this fancy.”

Tony eyed him, very much in the same manner Len had. “You’re a CEO.”

“I am, but . . . this isn’t business.” He wouldn’t feel so helpless if it were. Silverware followed. Actual silver, with a slight tarnish to its glint.

“So, is tonight more or less important than business?”

Oh yes, he was being tested, but there was only one answer to that question. “Far far more important.” The words scraped against a tight throat.

Tony nodded. “Hence . . .” He gestured at the table and the expensive setting.

Rob straightened. “I understand.” He clamped down on the rest of his thoughts.

“But?” Cloth napkins. Tony was pulling out fucking cloth napkins and napkin rings.

“I’m a kid from a coal town, under it all. I’m not—” He stopped and laughter took him, enough that he grabbed the back of the nearest chair for support.

He was standing in the house of a kid from a steel town. Brian’s house, in Pittsburgh. “I suppose,” Rob said, “this is where you tell me to stop being a pillock.”

“Does that mean dumbass?” Tony’s smile took all the edge off that.

Rob chuckled. “Exactly.”

“Who’s being a dumbass?” Brian carried a salad into the room and set it on the table.

“Me,” Rob admitted.

“You’re balking at the china, aren’t you?” Brian’s smile was a mile wide. So was Zoe’s.

And the crystal. He shrugged, which was as close to admission as he was willing to give.

“Mom and Dad break out all the stops for . . .” Zoe paused. “Well, you’re the first boyfriend, but you know.”

“I could get out the slide projector,” Tony said.

“No!” Zoe and Brian spoke at the same time, horror on their faces.

Rob leaned against the chair and laughed. “Now that’s true family hazing.”

“They usually leave that for Christmas.” Len strode in, carrying two wine bottles. “So beware.”

“Noted.” Assuming they made it that far. Goose bumps on his arms. He met Len’s smile with one of his own.

Finally, Alice came in with the ravioli and sauce and placed those on the table and they all shuffled around to their seats—Rob’s was predictably next to Brian’s. Grace was said—the Catholic version he barely knew—then the wine poured and food shared.

“So.” Len passed the salad to Rob. “How’s the shop?”

Everyone saw the screwed-up face Brian tried not to make. “It’s . . . busy.” He piled some greens into his salad bowl. “Scheduling’s been complex.”

Not really. Brian took all the unworked shifts. Rob chewed on his tongue and took the offered salad.

“You’re not working those awful hours, are you?” That from Alice.

Brian dropped his shoulders. “Like I said, it’s complex.”

Nothing that hiring a few additional people wouldn’t solve. Rob didn’t know coffee, but he knew staffing. He handed the salad to Zoe.

“Do you two actually get to see each other?” Her eyes were the same shade as Brian’s.

The worry Rob felt lay in her gaze. That fear resided in each of them, including Tony. Brian stared at his plate, his scowl stony. Rob slid a hand on Brian’s leg and gave the tense muscles a squeeze. “Of course we see each other. We make time.” He made time, but the rope of tension beneath his hand loosened. “I understand the pressure of owning your own business.”

Brian lifted his head. “It sucks sometimes.” He covered Rob’s hand with his own. “But it’s getting better. The new hires are working out and summer’s coming. It’s always easier to schedule when everyone’s out of school.”

The concern in his family faded and the rest of the food was passed around.

Len talked a bit about his flights and some of the crazier things that had happened. “Had one passenger get rip-roaring drunk in first class and nearly start a fistfight with his neighbor. Except his neighbor was an air marshal, so that ended quickly and in handcuffs.” He shook his head. “But we had to make an emergency landing because of the idiot.”

Zoe recounted a win at her lab—one of her experiments had completed successfully and the data had been quite good. Rob understood some of the terminology, but other bits flew over his head—not exactly his field even if some of his robots were for the medical industry—but he understood the excitement of good data.

“So you’ll be able to build off of that?”

She nodded. “Oh yeah. Might even be able to get a grant to continue the research.”

Alice coughed. “And are we ever going to hear any more about this girlfriend of yours?”

A very quiet chuckle from Brian and Zoe got a sheepish look. “Um. Her name’s Jyoti. She’s from India. I didn’t know if . . .” She trailed off.

Fearful of the racial differences? Rob studied Brian’s family. Both Alice and Tony sat back, but it was Alice who spoke. “Would you like to bring her to dinner sometime?”

Zoe nodded. “She’s vegetarian, too.”

Len nodded absently and dabbed his ravioli in sauce. The smile on his face was mirrored on Brian’s.

“I’m sure we can manage,” Alice said, almost bemused.

Zoe exhaled and relaxed. “Thanks, Mom.”

Tony shook his head. “You’d think after all these years, you kids would realize we’re gonna love you no matter what.”

“Well, I do,” Len said. He popped a ravioli into his mouth. He met Rob’s glance and his smile deepened.

Now there was a story he wanted to hear. He’d have to ask Brian later.

“I do have a question,” he said to both Alice and Tony, “if you don’t mind something a bit personal?”

They looked at each other and then at him. Both expressions were inviting, and Alice nodded.

“Brian said you were both still Catholic.” They’d said grace. There were pieces of religious art in the house, plus some palm branches tucked behind a crucifix. “How does that work? I mean . . .”

“How can we be fine with a bisexual son and a lesbian daughter?” Tony watched him over his wineglass.

Rob swallowed and nodded.

Alice swirled her wine, a movement that reminded Rob so much of Brian. “God is love. Mankind isn’t always. I’d rather err on the side of love.”

“I wish more people erred on that side.”

A huff from Brian. “Trouble is, loving your neighbor is hard.”

So very true. Rob had seen that play out in his hometown.

Silence reigned until Zoe started the next round of conversation. She threw a question to Rob and it hit him right in the head. “What about you, Rob? How’s your life?”

His life? “It’s grand.” He not so secretively grabbed Brian’s hand under the table and grinned at him. Even playing second fiddle to the coffee shop, being with Brian was a wonderful thing. But he had the sense that they wanted more about him and what he did.

Rob set down his fork. “We’ve been developing some new robotic medical devices at work. They’re still in prototype, but everything looks promising.” He stopped and huffed a laugh. “I could go on at length, but I might begin to sound like a salesman if I do.”

“What about your photography?” That was from Tony.

Brian squeezed his hand. Hell, he wasn’t going to win this one. Might as well be honest. “I never considered it more than a hobby, but I love it. Capturing slices of the world other people miss. Looking at things from a different perspective.” He paused. “My parents were never keen on the arts—not for me anyway. So it’s also a rebellion, I suppose.”

“He’s really good. I should have brought the prints.” Brian patted his hand, then resumed eating his meal.

“Oh God, no. You would have embarrassed me more than I already am.” He reached for his wine.

“Welcome to the family,” Len said. He raised his wineglass.

A wave of wonderment spun through Rob and he was left frozen for a moment. Carefully, he grabbed the glass and matched Lenny’s toast.

No words, though. Couldn’t push them out of his throat. He took a sip of wine, and the conversation moved on to Tony’s gardening exploits and the sheer number of tomato seedlings he had under grow-lights in the basement.

Len’s words echoed in his head. Family? Maybe. He wanted that, dearly. Wanted a life with Brian—but one that didn’t involve Brian exhausted every waking hour of the day, or on pins and needles that something would go wrong with the shop.

He enjoyed this, though. Sitting at the table with a family, one that accepted him for who he was. That had been a far cry from his own parents, even after he’d become successful. Didn’t help that he’d been fucking some random bloke while his mother was swallowing pills.

Rob set down his wine. Shit. Why did he have to think about that now? The ravioli felt like lead in his stomach.

Brian rubbed his shoulder. “Hey . . .”

The past was over and done. He tried a smile. “No worries.”

That didn’t wipe away the concern written all over Brian.

“Honey?”

He knew instinctively that Alice addressed him. He met her gaze and felt his muscles unknot. “I didn’t have the best relationship with my parents.” He looked around the table. “This is so very nice and I don’t want to spoil it with my past.”

Tony nodded, as if he understood. “You’re welcome anytime. Brian says you live in the neighborhood?”

“In Mrs. Kaminski’s house,” Brian said.

Zoe clanked her fork against her plate. “No shit! I hope you at least changed the carpeting.”

He couldn’t help the laugh. They all knew that house. “I more or less gutted it.”

“It looks fantastic,” Brian said.

That was a safe topic to dwell on—the here and now. Rob detailed the renovations, the oddities he’d found, and a few of the items left behind—a lamp, a vase, and a painting—with notes from Mrs. Kaminski’s children. They wanted something of their mother to remain in the house. “I haven’t figured out where I’ll put them, but I will.” He’d work them into his life, in honor of the former owner.

“You didn’t tell me that,” Brian murmured.

“Well, there’s still more of me to discover.”

“That sounds like a challenge.” Len said.

Goodness, how he loved that blush of Brian’s. Still, Rob peered at Len. No malice, but there was something there. He just couldn’t put his finger on it. “Life’s a challenge.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Tony said. He seemed to consider his wineglass and his words, but shrugged. “I hope you have room for dessert.”

He did. Barely, but yes. Especially when it turned out to be homemade tiramisu. By the end of the meal, Rob was stuffed to the gills. The worry he’d had over spending the evening with Rob’s family had melted away.

They all pitched in to clean up the meal. His job was simple—take the vegetable cuttings out to the composter in the back, drop them in, and throw some leaves on top.

He did as told, reset the lid, and marveled for a moment at the garden beds tucked into the small backyard. He should think about starting a garden. He glanced at the composter. And learning how to make his own dirt.

When he returned to the house, he wasn’t surprised to find Len standing on the back porch. “Nice night,” he said.

Rob nodded. “And a nice garden.” He dangled the little bucket he’d carried the vegetable bits in. “Wonder where they got that contraption from?”

“The composter? It was free when they signed up for a composting class. I’m sure they can give you the info.” Len rubbed his chin and watched Rob.

Slightly unnerving. “Is there something wrong?”

“No.” Len dropped his hands. “I’m just hoping you’ll be able to pry Brian away from that shop of his sometimes.”

Rob couldn’t help the bark of a laugh. “Likewise.”

That brought out Len’s smile.

“I do understand where Brian’s coming from, though.”

A nod. “I read the business news.”

So he knew Rob’s public image. Here he was, the hotshot CEO, with a little waste pail in his hand. “It’s mostly true.”

Len shifted and leaned against one of the porch roof supports. “I don’t doubt it.”

They eyed each other, and it struck Rob that Len was just as wary—and worried. “I’m not here to break Brian’s heart.”

Len’s turn to laugh. It was long, but not nearly as musical as Brian’s. “No, no. That I get. The most likely person to break Brian is Brian.” He sobered. “I guess I wanted to tell you not to give up on him.”

This was a very odd conversation. “I never imagined the brother of any guy I dated would tell me to keep dating him. Expected the opposite, in fact.”

That smile was so familiar. Len looked out into the garden. “I love my bro, and I wasn’t surprised when he came out—he’s been pretty obvious and oblivious as to how obvious most of his life. He’s brought home two other people before you and I have no doubt he loved them.”

There was a but there.

Len pushed himself off the wooden pillar. “But he’s never looked at anyone the way he looks at you.”

Oh. Rob tightened his grip on the little pail, lest he drop the damn thing.

“I—” He didn’t know what to say.

“Thing is—I’m more worried about you than him. Like I said, I love my bro, but he can be an incredible dumbass.”

Like the other weekend up at McConnells Mill. Rob nodded. “Yeah, I know.”

Len clapped him on the shoulder and nodded toward the door. “Good. Then you’re one step ahead.”

They walked back into the house and into the warmth of the rest of the family.

***

Brian held Rob’s hand as they strolled back to Rob’s house. A true stroll—they were too stuffed to manage anything faster—and they each had a bag of leftovers as well.

“I don’t think I’ve eaten that much in ages,” Rob murmured. “Your parents are wonderful.”

“So are you.” He was giddy with relief. Everyone had got along and Rob had taken the . . . outspokenness of his family in stride and genuinely enjoyed himself.

Rob’s smile crinkled his eyes. “I’m just a bloke from a coal town.”

“Dating a guy from a steel town. Your point?” He grinned.

Rob laughed but his smile slipped. “Not too many years ago, we couldn’t do this.” He squeezed Brian’s hand. “At least not as we are now.”

No. Brian studied the parklet they crossed to reach the other half of Rob’s—and his parents’—street. “I’m not sure I would have flirted with you, even five years ago.”

Rob seemed to chew on that. “Your brother said he’s known forever.”

Brian kicked at a stone and laughed. “Len’s damn observant. I tried to play it cool with posters of my favorite bands and movies. Making sure I had women as well as men, but . . . I guess it was pretty obvious.” He paused. “But five years ago, I still believed guys could be either gay or straight, at least outwardly. They’d only be accepted . . .” He trailed off.

Rob squeezed his hand. “There are still fuckers out there who think that. But it’s getting better.”

“I hope.”

Another squeeze. “Me too.” Rob’s voice was warm.

When they reached Rob’s, they parted long enough to go into the house and for Rob to store their leftovers in the fridge, then Brian drew Rob into his arms. “I’m not going to run off with some woman.”

Rob’s chuff was pure amusement. “Oh, I know that.” He brushed his lips against Brian’s. “You’re a give-your-heart-to-one-person type of guy.”

Heat down his spine. “Got my number.”

A sinful grin. “I sure did.” He stole another kiss and gestured at the couch. “Shall we be more comfortable?”

Good idea. Once there, Rob was in his arms and Rob’s mouth was on his. Not demanding, though. These were gentle kisses. Tastes. Touches.

He ran his fingers through Rob’s hair and pressed lips against his cheeks and neck. While his blood heated, he had no need to run straight up to the bedroom. After a while, they ended up snuggled together, his head on Rob’s chest.

Rob stroked his hair. “What did your brother mean when he said he knew your parents would always love you?”

Brian ran his hand down Rob’s leg, the denim warm against his fingers. “Len got into a lot of trouble as a teen.”

“Don’t we all?”

“Kind of. His involved juvenile court.”

Rob shifted and Brian looked up into his face. “Really? He doesn’t seem the type.”

Brian shrugged. “Dad always said he was too smart for his own good. Got bored. Acted out. Fell in with the wrong crowd.” He remembered those days, the worry. The yelling and the crying. Len sitting on the floor of his room, tears in his eyes. Don’t you dare fuck up like I did, Bri. “He spent some time in a detention center, ended up getting a lot of counseling, and as soon as he graduated from high school, he signed up for the navy.”

A nod. “Structure. Rules.”

“Something like that. My parents weren’t lenient or anything—I don’t know. There’s stuff Len doesn’t talk about. When he came back from his tours, he was way more serious in some ways, way less in others. Still himself, though.”

“Older?” Rob ran a finger over his cheek.

That, too. Brian had been in high school when Len left and nearly out of college when Len returned. He’d missed Len something awful in those days, but he, too, had grown up. “He’d become a pilot in the navy and loved it. I think it appealed to his wild side.” He slid his head down to rest it in Rob’s lap. “Less now, with commercial flights. He says it’s like driving a bus, but he wouldn’t give it up for the world.”

“No girlfriend?”

Brian blinked. “No.” There’d never been any that he’d known of. Or boyfriends. “I don’t know if he’s dated at all. He’s never talked about it.”

Rob stroked his hair. “That’s interesting.”

He rolled that around in his head. “I— Maybe I should ask him about that sometime.” Len kept things close to his chest. Out of all of them, he was the most reserved, despite the wild side.

Brian closed his eyes and breathed in the mingled scents of Rob’s house, Rob, and the traces of his parents’ place that still clung to Rob’s clothing. “The only bad thing about dinners like that is all I want to do is sleep.”

Rob’s chuckle rocked their bodies. “Same.” He caressed Brian’s shoulder. “Do you want to stay here or go upstairs?”

“Bed sounds wonderful, if you don’t mind me disappointing you.”

Rob snorted, and leaned over to kiss him on the head. “Being with you is never a disappointment. Nor is sleeping next to you, or waking up to your smile.”

His throat tightened and he pushed himself off Rob’s lap.

“I adore sex with you,” Rob said. “But I also adore you. Not every night needs to end in orgasms.” He climbed to his feet.

Brian rose. “Well, that’s good.” He wanted to be more than just a bed partner. “Though, I like the orgasms.”

Rob took his hand and drew him toward the stairs. “There’s always tomorrow morning.”

Yes, there was. With any luck, there’d be truckloads of tomorrow mornings in their future.