Frog

Chapter 6 #2

“You need to come with me,” I said, loving the glazed look in his big, wet eyes.

“Web, just take me into the bathroom.”

“You have lost your mind.” I sighed as I held his face in my hands and smiled slowly, lazily. “I got here as fast as I could.”

He nodded.

“I didn’t want you to start kissin’ frogs again.”

His hand went to my shoulder, and he looked at me hard. I saw the muscles in his jaw flex. “I only kissed frogs before I found you. Christ, Weber, you’re my prince.”

“I dunno about that.”

“You are. You were never a frog,” he said gruffly, his voice low and husky.

It was dumb that I needed to hear the words—I was an action-over-declaration kind of guy—but from him, it was necessary. Always had been.

“Let’s go home, Web. Please. I wanna go home.”

“Why?” I teased him.

He leaned his head forward so my hands slipped around his neck. “Because I need you, and you won’t fuck me here.”

I breathed against his ear and felt the shudder go through him. “No, I won’t, but I will put you over the couch in the living room when we get home if you can’t make it to the bedroom.”

“Fuck,” he half yelled, squirming like his clothes were suddenly too tight.

“Talk to me.”

“I don’t want to talk to you,” he whispered fiercely, squeezing his eyes shut against the tears. They leaked out from under his long, thick lashes anyway. “I want you to stay. God, Weber, I have never needed anyone like I need you.”

“Same here.”

His eyes popped open, his head tipped up, and I was swallowed in his golden-brown gaze.

“I love you,” I told him, and it finally felt good to say instead of terrifying.

“You do?”

“Of course,” I grumbled at him. “You know that.”

He lunged at me, wrapped his arms around my neck again, this time hugging me tight. He was trembling, and with that realization came a new understanding.

Normally, we were insular. I wasn’t there long enough to see anyone but him.

We spent our days and nights naked except for the occasional dinner with his friends.

And with it being just us, it was easy to see where he ended and I began.

He lived there, in the city, in his house on the hill, and I was a drifter.

Our lives did not, could not mix except in the short term.

But this time…this time there was a whole village of people I was exposed to.

Not only Lyn and her boys, but his parents, and Brett and Rachel and their kids.

So many more people to know, and the circle got bigger and bigger.

I met the doctors and nurses Cy worked with, nannies doing the same job I was, and Micah’s lovely psychologist. The crazy part was, every single person who saw me in Cy’s life, saw me as fitting in.

I held on to things like neurosurgeon versus ranch hand, or neurosurgeon versus drifter, but no one seemed to care but me.

And in the cab on the way there, it hit me that if not for my pride, I could have this all the time.

I could be the guy Cy had dinner with every night, the one who watched television with him and shopped for groceries.

I could be the one he called to pick him up because he was drunk.

When I reached him, and he saw me, I could read it on his face plain as day.

The man truly and completely loved me. And he didn’t love me because I was a cowboy, and he didn’t love me because I was some romantic ideal, but because I was me.

He loved plain old Weber Yates, poor, out of work, and clueless.

He worshipped the ground I walked on. It made no sense.

We were as different as we could be. I was nobody, and he had the world at his feet, but apparently, he didn’t see it like that, and finally, neither did I.

The most important part, though, was that for Cy, he didn’t have everything unless he had me.

He saw me, cherished my heart, recognized how much I loved him, and knew it would never occur to me to stop.

There could be no mistake. We would be in this for the long haul if I could let us really, truly start.

And honestly, why would I not? The only thing standing between us was my pride, and it was not strong enough to keep us apart.

I was not a vain man, but I realized when I was needed and when I alone would do.

It had been brewing since I arrived, the understanding of what I was in his life, the revelation of what I alone brought out in him, and what we could be together.

Dr. Erin was right; it did take a village.

All those people, in one way or another, especially his family, whom he wanted to know me, had shown me the way.

I kissed Cy hard, the epiphany rolling through me a lot to take, sharing it with him, letting him feel it in me, all I could do.

“Oh God,” he shivered, pulling back just enough to look at me. “You feel different. You sounded…different right then.”

“Did I?”

His smile was blinding. “Oh shit.”

“Nice,” I said with a grin.

“Weber,” he gasped, and then lost it, tears, trembling lip, body shaking. It all happened at once. But he was drunk off his ass, so I understood. “You’re going to stay? Tell me you’re going to stay and move in with me and live with me until I die.”

“I’ll pass before you,” I told the most hopeful, happy, terrified pair of eyes I had ever seen. “You may be older on paper, but I’m older inside.”

He climbed me, and I had to laugh because the man had his legs wrapped around my waist, arms around my neck, and his tongue shoved down my throat in seconds.

The kiss was hard and devouring and ravenous, and breathing was an afterthought.

He ravaged me, and after long minutes, I became aware of the applause before he tore his mouth from mine to look up.

“We get it.” One of the men close to us smiled brightly at Cy. “He’s yours, hands off.”

“God, that was hot,” someone else chimed in. “I had no idea you had that in you, Dr. Benning.”

I brought out all kinds of things in the man.

“You’re going to stay,” he whispered close to my ear, ignoring everyone else, “and be mine.”

I chuckled, looking at my sweet man as he pulled back and stared at me with his big, soft eyes and swollen lips. God, he was pretty, and now that I’d claimed him, I was not about to have strangers ogling him.

“Let’s go home.”

“Yessir.” He beamed, his face, his eyes, his smile all infused with more joy than I thought possible.

Still carrying him—from how hard he was hanging on, he had no inclination to be put down—I started for the door.

“You know what I want?” Cy asked.

“Tell me,” I said, one hand on his ass, the other around his back.

“When we get home, will you hold me so tight that I can feel your heart beating?”

“I will,” I promised and took a settling breath.

“Weber,” someone called, and I stopped, recognizing William Reece, one of his friends, from my last visit.

“Hey, Will.”

He smiled as I gently set Cy on his feet. “It’s good to see you, Weber. Are you staying this time? From the look on Cy’s face, I’m thinking yes.”

“I am,” I assured him.

He offered me his hand. “Oh, I’m so glad. For both of you.”

But I didn’t even have a job. I was homeless and—

“Weber?”

I realized I had not taken his hand and grabbed it fast, shaking.

“You scared me.” He sighed, and I understood in that moment that he liked what he saw. He liked me. “I want us to be friends.”

“I appreciate that, but you—”

“I meant every word,” he promised, and the look in his clear green eyes let me know he was telling the truth. “I’m thrilled you’re staying. I look forward to hanging out with you both. Come say a quick hello to the guys, all right?”

“Next time,” Cy told him, gently shoving William back. “Gotta go home and get laid right now, Will.”

“Oh, okay.” His black eyebrows shot up, and he mouthed the word trashed to me, followed by a wicked grin. “We’ll see you soon.”

“God, you’re drunk,” I told Cy, grabbing his hand and yanking him after me toward the front door.

“So what?” he growled.

We were stopped outside before we hit the stairs, but this time by someone I’d never met before.

“I saw that over-the-top display, Cy,” said the tall, handsome man barring our path. “I don’t get an introduction to the man you pined for?”

Oh. Got it. The ex.

“Let it go, Seth. We’re leaving.”

“I just don’t understand.” He squinted at me. “I wasn’t good enough, but a drifter is? Explain to me how that makes any sense.”

I moved to walk around him, but he cut me off.

And I understood. I really did. Cyrus Benning was a catch.

He was beautiful and rich and smart and funny.

Ross had told me that as well, yet another person putting me “on the right path.” Cy was Prince Charming in the flesh.

I would have tried to get him back too. Fortunately for me, I was the one.

I was the guy, his guy, the man he wanted to grow old with.

“Move, please,” I asked nicely.

“So,” he said, looking me up and down, “you’re what the fuss was all about. I can’t say I’m impressed.” He sneered. “Still riding bulls, cowboy?”

“Nope.” I smirked. “I only ride his cock now.”

Not the answer he was expecting from the expression on his face. His mouth fell open, his eyes bugged out, and he gasped.

“Are we clear?” I wanted to make sure.

“Get the fuck out of our way before I kick your ass!” Cy yelled, slurring his words, on the verge, it seemed, of taking a swing at the guy.

I grabbed Cy, threw him over my shoulder, and took the stairs easily even with his added weight.

Once outside, I started toward the car.

“Put me down!”

“I’m guessing that was the guy you slept with after I left last time, huh?”

“Weber Yates, put me down!”

“How the hell did he know I was a bull rider and a drifter?” I asked as though he wasn’t screaming at me.

“Because I told him all about you, just like I told every guy I ever dated all about you, because you’re the love of my fucking life!”

“Why’re you mad?” I tried not to snicker.

“Because you just told that piece of crap that I fucked you, and that was just between us!”

Well, now it wasn’t anyway because he had just yelled it to the whole block. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why would you care if I told him?”

“Because it’s private!” He was probably foaming at the mouth, he was so mad. “What we do in our bedroom is no one’s business but ours, and it was beautiful and amazing and nothing I would have ever shared with—”

“Calm down,” I said softly, patting his ass, my voice deep and low.

“I don’t want him to think about you like that, like he could fuck you, because only I fuck you!”

We were at the car now, so I put him down. He was still fuming and not losing any of his anger.

“I’m so pissed at you right now!”

“Don’t be.” I grinned and pulled him close. “I like that you’re possessive of me, of us. It means a lot.”

When I bent to kiss him, he parted his lips for me eagerly, but I took my time, and when I lifted just barely, not enough to miss the feel of his warm breath on my face, I noticed that his eyes were open.

“You’re supposed to close your eyes when I kiss you.”

“I’m a little bit afraid I’m dreaming right now, so I kind of don’t want to stop looking at you.”

“God, you’re so drunk and cute.”

“What?”

“Get in the car.” I held open the passenger door.

“I am not cute, and I’m not that drunk.”

But he was very much both.

I made sure he didn’t clunk his head as he got in the car, then closed the door. Once I was behind the wheel, he reiterated that yes, he was a little tipsy but not sloshed.

“Okay, darlin’,” I agreed, strapping him in. “Try not to puke in the car.”

“I’m not gonna be sick.” He was incredulous. “I drink all the time, Weber.”

Uh-huh.

I didn’t even say I told you so when I had to stop three blocks away so he could hurl up a lung. It would have been mean.

At home, I put a cool washcloth on the back of his neck as he threw up some more, then rubbed his back when it subsided to retching.

“This is supposed to be the most beautiful night of my life,” he groaned, head on the rim of the porcelain bowl, his skin moist, pale, and chilled.

“But this way it’s memorable.”

“I’m disgusting.”

“You’re drunk.” I sighed. “Did you even eat anything today?”

He ignored my question. “How can you even be in here?”

“Because all this don’t bother me none. Now get up, wash your face, brush your teeth, and I’ll get you some Tylenol and water.”

“This is gross, but I’m kind of hungry.”

“Okay.”

“And I want a shower.”

“Good.” I couldn’t stop smiling at him. “You do that. I’ll make you a sandwich and some soup. Meet me in the kitchen.”

“Thanks.”

I got up and left him then.

By the time he staggered to the kitchen and took a seat at the bar, I had a turkey sandwich made for him, plain except for a light smear of mayonnaise, and a bowl of chicken noodle soup. There was a glass of water as well, and two Tylenol caplets.

He ate while I cleaned up.

“Web?”

I leaned against the sink and looked at him.

“What are you planning on doing now that you’re going to stay?”

“I’m gonna work for your sister and take care of them boys. I don’t think her husband is comin’ back, but even if he does, she’ll still need me because they needed a nanny before.”

“I agree.” He cleared his throat. “Are you okay with doing that? Taking care of the kids?”

I crossed my arms. “I am. Are you?”

“How do you mean?”

“Well, you’re the one who has to say to people, I sleep with a nanny.”

He choked on his water, and I moved quickly, taking the glass and shoving a napkin in his face. “Don’t barf anymore.”

“What the hell!” he yelled. “Jesus Christ, Weber, I don’t give a shit what you do. I just love thinking of you here at home, in our home, puttering around, simply being with me every single day. All I want is—”

“A foundation.”

“What?”

“You wanna build. You want us to make a life together.”

“Yes. Exactly.”

I nodded. “The other day, Micah had to draw somethin’ that reminded him of me, and he drew me as a mountain.”

“He did?”

“He did, and it got me thinkin’. I am a mountain. I don’t have roots like you and your family, but I’m here and I won’t move. You can build on me, count on me, and we’ll use your roots, and I can make a home for you all.”

He was nodding, speechless, so I took him into my arms, cradling his head in my hand, smoothing my hand over his back, rubbing circles there.

“Oh God, please, Weber, be my home.”

“Thank you for believing I could be. I won’t let you down.”

He hugged me so hard, so tight, and kissed the side of my neck before leaning back.

“What?”

“Who is you all?”

My smile was huge.