I see him close his eyes and breathe deeply, but he doesn’t react otherwise.
“I’m sorry,” I say softly, feeling utterly useless.
“You donothave to apologize,” he snaps angrily. Then he takes a couple more deep breaths and finally turns to look at me. I see frustration and pain in his eyes, and added to that, the same helplessness that I feel. “I knew you were driving at night, Jake. I knew, of course.” His words are barely audible by the end, and I have to be closer.
I don’t slow my movements or inhibit the emotion, I just wrap him in my arms and squeeze tight, hoping he can feel all the love I have for him.
“I love you,” I say simply.
“I love you more.”
“Doubtful,” I snark back, and give him a teasing smile when I lean back. “Now, tell me how Lure is doing while we get this homecoming dinner ready for your Benny.”
He tells me about the gay nightclub we own and he manages between directions on what to chop, what to wash, what to pass him.
It’s clear right away that he’s making sides for steak and potatoes with a huge salad, and I can’t help but smile at how obviously devoted he is to Benny.
Not that he didn’t cook before meeting him, but now it’s all organic food, all healthy and more intentional.
An hour passes before I know it, and then we hear the garage door, and only a minute later the laundry room door that leads out there opens. I send him a questioning look when I realize there are multiple footsteps, but Chris isn’t looking my way.
He’s already walking over and taking Benny into his arms.
A slow smile starts to stretch my cheeks but it freezes when the mountain of a man steps into the room behind Benny.
Chris’s boyfriend is already a pretty big guy, buthim...
Easily six and a half feet tall and built like a brick wall, the picture he makes has me fucking salivating.
His smooth, clean-shaven cheeks and soft smile as he looks down at Chris and Benny embracing makes him look like he doesn’t have a cynical bone in his body.
Physically, he doesn’t look soft at all, but that expression makes me think his personality might be soft as a teddy bear.
He keeps looking at them while I stare at him, enthralled, but then Benny kisses Chris enthusiastically and it must become uncomfortable for him to keep looking at them because he looks away.
Those soft looking cheeks begin to redden at an alarming rate, and as my heart starts to try to beat out of my chest, his blue eyes lock on mine and I’m fucking done.
Over.
I want to walk over, ask his name, ask everything about him, but I... can’t.
My body’s frozen, and I can barely breathe, forget about moving or speaking.
“Sorry.”
I hear Benny’s sheepish voice but don’t look over to see his barely embarrassed grimace. He’s never been shy about PDA, and I actually prefer that to the alternative. Normally his unabashed show of love for my brother would make me smile, but since I’m still enthralled by the beautiful man whose name I’m desperate to know, that’s not happening today.
“Oh, this is Timmy, Jake,” Benny says, andTimmy’seyes finally land on me. They’re a soft looking hazel that pulls me in instantly.
“Hey,” Timmy says, and then walks over with his hand outstretched—his very big and calloused hand I find out when I offer him my own. “Timmy Daniels.”
“Jake Collins,” I say distractedly. Then it clicks in my brain. I know that name, as any self-respecting hockey fan would. “You were just traded to the Pirates.”
I wonder briefly how I didn’t recognize him sooner, but the fact is, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him without a helmet, so I guess that’s why.
His cheeks pinken slightly and all thoughts of hockey and everything but that pale shade of pink leave my brain. I can’t even think about what to say next when faced with his adorable sheepish grin.
“Yeah.” He pulls his hand away—the one I didn’t want to let go of—and rubs the back of his neck. “I’m really happy to be here,” he murmurs, looking me right in the eyes.