CHAPTER EIGHT
I love how you almost always have music playing and how eclectic it is. One song is Bon Jovi, and the next is Lefty Frizzell.
~Text from Erik to Grant
Grant
Hearing Erik verbalize that he hopes he’s not too late shows me he still doesn’t one hundred percent believe what I told him all those years ago. I think my patience has worn out. I’m no saint even if I’ve been behaving like one, and I can’t handle not touching him much longer, especially when he’s no longer forbidden fruit.
Jonah declares that we leave the cleanup to the younger generation, and we go to leave and head down the mountain with Ry driving Jonah’s truck and Jackson, Wyatt, and I hopping in Erik’s.
We’re probably halfway down the mountain when Wyatt breaks the silence. “What’s in the box? How’d you know it would still be there?”
Erik shrugs his shoulders. “I haven’t opened it, so I don’t know what’s all in there, but I remember Mamma putting it there when she realized it wasn’t noticeable by anyone. I didn’t know if it would still be there, but since Mamma died in the way that she did, I highly doubt anyone up there knew of its existence. I just figured if it’s something Mamma wanted hidden, it meant something to her, and either Linnea or I would like to have something of hers. We don’t have much of anything other than our Larvikite that she gave us when we were kids, and we only have those because we’ve kept them in our pockets every day since she gave them to us. The house was cleaned out of almost everything personal when Father made Mamma move up the mountain full-time. Mine and Linnea's were the only rooms that still had more than the basic furniture. It could be nothing, but I figured it didn’t hurt none to see if it was there and take it.”
Wyatt continues the conversation. “That makes sense. If you wanna drop me and Jackson off at the house, I think Anna’s gonna need some time tonight to deal with…well, shit, everything, I would guess.”
I watch in the rearview mirror as Jackson glares at Wyatt. “You guess? She just slayed her Everest and hadn’t even known where he was for fucking years. Yeah, she’s gonna need to deal tonight. Time and a bottle of whiskey is probably what she’s planning.” I swear, sometimes their arguing can rival Samson and Saxon, and that’s saying something.
They continue to bicker in the back seat, and I can sense Erik looking over at me. He’s got that half-grin going on that’s sexy as all get out. “You ever wonder if our boys learned their bickering from these two?”
I can’t help but chuckle. “I think they came about it honestly, but these two probably didn’t help shit.” That has us both chuckling. Erik takes the turn toward their place and, within a few minutes, drops them off to find out what kind of chaos is no doubt going on in their house.
We make the few-minute drive to my place in silence. I’m not sure where his head is at after being back up on the mountain. I know it always seems to mess with his head, and I don’t want him to do something rash. He pulls up the driveway, puts the truck in park, and turns it off.
I can’t help but ask him, “You doin’ okay? I know going up there must’ve—” He turns his head to look at me, and the look of determination and almost peace has me shutting up. “Yeah, I’m good. That shit up there? I dealt with that a long time ago, and it’s gonna stay where it’s at, in the past.” He gets out of the truck and heads into the house. I guess that’s the end of the conversation then.
Erik
I hurried up into the house ‘cause all I could keep thinking about was what Grant said to Jonah up on the mountain. I had headed toward the house, but I heard them.
I heard Jonah speak first. “ So you think he’s thirty years too late, or does he have a chance at real happiness with the person who can give that to him? ” I think I slowed down my steps, needing to hear the answer more than my next breath.
“ He’s not too late. Not too late at all .”
Replaying that over and over again, I know he’s been waiting for me to make a move or say something. It’s a lot harder than you’d think. Is it really okay? I can’t help but pace by the front door. Grant’s only a minute behind me.
He opens the door, comes in, and heads toward the kitchen. “I’m getting a beer, want one?”
I speak up before I lose my nerve. “I’m ready.”
He stops walking and slowly turns back toward me. With one eyebrow raised, he asks barely above a whisper, “What did you just say?”
I look at him, and with more nerve than I think I really possess, I say it again. “I’m ready. I’m ready for everything. I want—.” I’m interrupted by Grant eating up the space between us as I speak and pushing me up against the door. With our faces almost touching, he reaches up and grabs my neck like he did in the kitchen all those many months ago. Looking at me eye to eye, he speaks up. “Are you saying you’re ready…to try and be with me?”
In this moment, I muster up more courage than I think I really have. “No, I’m not ready to try. I’m ready to be with you. I don’t need to question it. If you don’t — ” Grant stops my rambling by kissing me. Kissing me with more emotion than I ever thought I could feel in a single kiss. I can’t help the moan that comes out of me.
Grant
I couldn’t wait to kiss him any longer. Hearing him say he was ready and seeing in his eyes he was being honest, there was still a hint of trepidation, but that’s him. Hearing the moans coming from him has me hard within seconds. Fuck me, he’s got every bit of me turned on, and it’s only been a few seconds. Knowing I need to make sure we’re on the same page, I break the kiss but lean my forehead to touch his, needing to be connected to him as much as possible.
“Wow. I mean, I know I haven’t been kissed in decades, but that...” I can’t help but chuckle at his words. I move my head back so I can look at him.
“I may have kissed someone more recently, but that definitely was something special.” Seeing a blush appear on Erik’s cheeks turns me on even more.
I take a second because as much as I want to drag him straight to the bedroom, this ain’t gonna be just a quick thing, and I need to take care of him. I know he’s still getting over that stomach shit he’s been fighting. I squeeze his neck. “Let’s get some dinner and talk, one of those topics being where you’re sleeping tonight.” I swear he gives out a little huff and a pout. Fuck me . Maybe he really is the unicorn I’ve been missing all these years.
Not wanting to break contact with him, I move my hand from his neck to hold his hand. “I could order something for us, or I can whip up some pasta. What do you say?” He chews on his lip, and I can tell he’s deep in thought. I reach up to free his lip, knowing he’s gonna draw blood if he doesn’t stop.
“It’s not a hard question. Do you want pasta or takeout?” He sighs again. He looks at me with a questioning look. “What if what I want is to not have to decide? Honestly, I don’t care. I don’t think I’m up to making another decision tonight.”
I study him for a moment. “If you felt like this before, would you have eaten at all?”
He actually looks shy for a moment. “I probably would have just had a beer or two and called it a night. Between my stomach issues and dealing with all this shit, including Celeste blowing up my phone today, thinking about food is the last thing on my mind.”
I look at him and all I want to do is take his worries away and make him de-stress a bit. “First, I’m going to order us some food, then we’re gonna sit, eat, watch a game, and talk about everything going on in your head. Then we’re gonna go to bed together ‘cause I can’t imagine not touching you all night.” The grin that he gives me back tells me this is exactly what he needs, and giving him that relaxes something inside of me that hasn’t felt settled in more years than I care to admit. His blue-gray eyes show a relief that I can rarely ever remember seeing. I lean forward and give him another kiss just ‘cause I can. “You go find a game on. I’ll order and grab the beer.” He nods and lets go of my hand to go into the living room. I pull up the delivery app and order from the local steakhouse, knowing they have his favorite au gratin potatoes. I get the food order in and grab the beers. When I walk into the living room, seeing him leaning back on the couch and his phone tossed onto the coffee table, I can’t help but hope he feels this is home for good. I know I shouldn’t get ahead of myself, but you would too if you’d been hoping for this for more than half your life.
I sit on the couch beside Erik and pull him close, leaving my arm around him. “Now tell me what the fuck is Celeste doing blowing up your phone? Is it ‘cause she was served a few days ago?”
He sighs again but settles more into my arms before he answers me. “Yeah. She’s all pissed off. She’s mad that I filed. She’s mad that I’m willing to give up the house but not pay her a shit ton of alimony on top of it. She’s mad that the boys helped me and didn’t tell her. She’s mad they both said the divorce is a good thing. She’s mad she doesn’t have access to all my money beyond what is in the shared account. She’s also mad that I visited four of the best divorce lawyers in town and then got the top one, so she can’t hire any of the four. I have Max’s advice to thank for that one. Reminds me. I need to get him something really good for that tidbit of advice.” He pauses to take a sip of beer. How have I forgotten just how sexy his neck is when he does that? Makes me want to lick his Adam’s apple. Focus, Grant. “She wants me to come over for dinner this weekend to discuss things in person.”
The fuck? I think not. “You aren’t thinking of going, are you?” I can feel him shrug his shoulders.
“I won’t change my decision at all, but I’m kinda curious what the fuck she’s going to say to try to get me to change my mind. She doesn’t have the upper hand she thinks she’s had all these years. At this point, the boys are grown, and I figure they’ll find out their dad is gay sometime.”
Damn straight they will if I have anything to do with it.
Erik
I swear I could feel him tense the moment I brought up Celeste wanting to meet for dinner. When I mentioned I wasn’t going to change my mind but was curious about what she would say, I swear the man growled. Like the growl that’s described in those romance books that I may or may not have started reading in the last few years. Hey now, there are some seriously steamy MM books that have great plots, and I have nieces who talk loudly about authors they love. But back to the matter at hand. I twist slightly so I can see Grant’s face. “Did you seriously just growl?”
He glares at me, though I can tell he’s not pissed at me. “She’s had years to talk to you face-to-face and hasn’t. I think you should check with your lawyer. I doubt he’ll want you to speak to her without him present.”
Fair point. “I’ll ask him. He’s not a fan of hers, by the way, and not just because I’m a paying client. I think his mother might have played dirty when she divorced his dad when he was a kid because he was plenty eager to take my case. During our meetings, he’s made a few comments under his breath about how Celeste reminds him of his mom.”
He squeezes me slightly. “Good. He needs to make sure you get a clean break and don’t have to pay her an arm and a leg. I mean, it’s not ‘cause you need to worry about money, but ‘cause Celeste doesn’t fucking deserve one more penny from you. I still think you’re being too nice by giving her the house.”
I sigh again. “I know, but I’ve got enough saved to be alright, and I don’t want the house. It’s always been her dream. I may not have ever really loved her, but she did have Leif and Jeremiah, and for that alone, she can have the fucking house.”
The doorbell rings, interrupting our conversation, though I’m happy to drop the topic. Grant gets up and goes to the door to get our food. I get up and go to the kitchen to get us each another beer and silverware. Time for dinner.
Grant
I could feel his body relax next to me as we ate. The need to help him always feel this way is so strong. I’ve never had the wave of possessiveness before like I did when he mentioned possibly having dinner with Celeste. I instantly thought that she kept him miserable for all these years, and he’s gonna be mine now. I’m gonna call the whole no-backsies thing the boys used to call out. What? I never said I was mature about it.
We finish eating, and I take the leftovers and empty bottles to the kitchen to put things away. I take a second to give myself a talking-to. I don’t want to rush him. I mean fuck, he hasn’t had sex in…well, shit, Jeremiah’s almost twenty-four, so…wow. Yeah, it’s a fucking long time. I’m just gonna have to try to read his face and cues so I don’t overwhelm him. I know he’ll shut down emotionally if I do. I’ve seen that more than once over the years. This is where I’ve got to fucking remember I’m in it for the long haul and not some fucking quick fuck.
I grab us each one more beer ‘cause fuck if tonight doesn’t warrant three beers, and head back into the living room. I’m stopped in my tracks when I walk in by the sight on the couch. Archie, no longer content with lying on the floor by Erik’s feet, has made the move to the couch and placed his head in Erik’s lap. Erik’s got his hand on him, but it’s not moving as he’s conked out asleep already. His being asleep lets me look and get my fill of him for a minute. His hair may have gray throughout it and his face a few wrinkles, but he’s still the same guy who took my breath away all those years ago. The thought that we might finally have our time warms my cold heart. I go back over to my spot on the couch and have a seat. I then pull him closer to me, mute the sound on the game, and put on my almost-always-playing playlist. What can I say? Music soothes my soul. The first song that comes on is the classic Linda Ronstadt song “Long, Long Time .” If that ain’t just ironic, I don’t know what is. I open up the recliner so I can lean back and enjoy the moment. Watching my team on television, good music playing, a cold beer in my hand, and the man I’ve wanted for more years than I care to think about asleep in my arms. This might just be the perfect evening.