How did he answer that without stepping on Beck’s toes? He wanted to be up here with Beck, but what if Beck wasn’t ready for that? What if it was a huge hassle for his happy ass to be up here? What? Beck was going to lug him up and down? “Do you want me up here with you, babe?”
Beck blinked at him, brow bending into a frown. “I’m going to go get your bag. I’ll be right back.” Beck didn’t wait for an answer and strode out of the room.
“I think I fucked up, Walter. Again.”
Walter head-butted him.
“I know, man. I know.”
Beck came in with his bag and set it in a little window seat. “What have you got in here? You want some sweats or something comfy?”
“I have sweats in there. They’re easier.” He was still moving slow, but sweats felt good. The jeans had been hellish.
Beck pulled out a pair and brought them over. It took a little doing, but getting sweats on with help was still way easier than getting jeans on by himself. Once that was done, Beck sat down on the bed next to him.
“You’re my husband.” Beck slid a hand over his thigh, the good one. “This is where you belong.”
“Thanks. I was hoping you’d say that.” Sky looked for, and found, a grin and gave it to Beck. “This whole thing is awkward as hell.”
Beck nodded. “The right answer is always the same one, though.” Beck stole a kiss from him, so quick and hard it left him blinking.
“Damn.” He stared at Beck, bits waking up that had been quiet for weeks. “Damn, babe.”
The look he got was signature Beck, the racy wink and that “you know you want me” grin. He’d seen it dozens of times, maybe even hundreds.
“Butthead.” He swatted Beck’s arm, his laughter bubbling out of him.
Beck laughed with him. Even Walter howled along.
“Come on, let’s get you back to your walker, grandma.” Beck stood up before he could get in another swat.
“You wait, I won’t need it long. I’m a stud.” Sky stood up, fighting to keep his balance.
“You are. Hottest thing in a cowboy hat. I believe you.” Beck caught him and lifted him right off his feet. “I’m going to fatten you up. Starting tonight.”
“You are, huh? Crazy bastard.” Sky’s cheeks started burning, but he’d been carried before, so he didn’t make it harder on Beck. They had to do the stairs, after all.
“Damn right. Your fighting weight is one thing. This hospital recovery weight is too damn skinny.” They scooted sideways through the bedroom door, and Sky’s feet hung over the railing as they made their way downstairs, but Beck didn’t seem to have any trouble, and he didn’t seem to mind one bit either.
“I missed your cooking.” He hadn’t known how to make more than a bowl of cereal before Beck. He still wasn’t really a cook, but he had loved being in the kitchen with his lover. Helping, hindering—either way, it was grand.
“We’re having potatoes au gratin too. I made them around dawn this morning when I was busy not sleeping and stressing about bringing you home.” Beck gave him a smile. “Did you make anything on your own? I assume your trailer had a kitchen, right?”
“Eggs. I ate a lot of eggs.” He had been fighting to stay at his riding weight, so no carbs, nothing fun. Hell, all he had to do to get skinny was break himself.
Beck laughed and set him down next to his walker. “That’s not cooking. You good? I want to run out and start the grill.”
“I’m good.” Beck headed out and Skyler stood up. He managed to get up and find the bathroom. He did his business and washed himself, sitting on the walker.
How in the world had all this happened? Seriously. He’d been fine. Well, mostly fine. Riding. He’d been riding. He’d been planning for Mexico. He’d been whole, but now…
Shit Marthy.
“You okay in there?” Beck tapped gently on the bathroom door. “Oh, need any help?”
He reached behind him and opened the door. “I was gathering energy to stand up.”
And trying to figure out who the fuck he was.