Chapter 20
Teague
G iddy. That was the only word for how I was feeling. I wasn’t even sure I’d ever actually felt giddy before, but I certainly did now. Last night had been amazing. Not just the spectacular blow job that had blown my mind, or sitting there and watching Charlie as he’d used me for his own pleasure. That had been outstanding and pleased me down to my bones, of course. I was humbled and honored by the trust Charlie had shown me.
It’d been fucking hot too.
But more than that was the care Charlie had put into the date, finding out and then getting my favorite foods. It had been the contentment of snuggling together on the couch as we watched first his choice of movie and then mine— Jurassic Park because you could never go wrong with a classic—and the way Charlie used the jump scares to push in closer. His smirk gave him away though, showing me he wasn’t actually scared. Not that I minded in the least. He could cuddle me and use me as a shield whenever he wanted.
It was the lingering kisses at the door that went on for far longer than they should have, until I finally had to physically pull myself away and in Charlie’s sweet request that I text him when I made it home, so he’d know I was safe. It was in the comments and conversation in between, and all the little moments. It all came together to be a truly awesome date. I couldn’t wait to do it again.
I was still reliving every moment of it as I drank my coffee. I should be thinking about my day ahead and the things that I needed to do. But instead, I was remembering the way Charlie looked up at me through his lashes, the way he laughed from his soul, and the way he looked when he’d come apart on my lap. Though that part I probably shouldn’t be remembering right now, or I’d have my own situation to deal with before I got on with my day.
“What’s with the smile?”
My gaze snapped to Oakley, standing in the doorway, not looking all that awake. “Why’re you up? Today’s your day off.”
He yawned and did the zombie shuffle into the kitchen, before plopping down in the chair across from me and propping his head up in a hand. “Wanted to see how your date went with my bestie.”
“Your bestie, eh?” I sipped the coffee, wincing a little as it burned going down. “Does Charlie know that?”
Oak waved that away as though it didn’t matter. “I’m guessing good. When are you seeing him again?”
I sat back, stretching my legs out, as I studied him. “How is that your business?” I said the words without any heat, just curiosity, but the way Oak avoided my gaze was telling. What exactly it was telling me, I wasn’t sure. “Oak? What’s up?”
It took him a minute or two before he answered and I sat there, letting him take his time. I didn’t want to push or demand. I’d learned early on that the best way to get my nephew to talk was to give him room.
“You really like him. He likes you.” Oak’s voice was soft. “You’re both good guys. I just want you two to have it easy and happy and ride off into the sunset or whatever.”
“Well, we’re working on that,” I answered, still staring at him. “No one knows what the future holds, but we’re both in this. So, we’re working on it.”
“Okay. Good.” He pushed up from the table, but I sat forward quickly and grabbed his arm. He flinched and I immediately let go, holding my hands up.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. And maybe I’m reading it wrong, but you seem overly invested. And that’s not a bad thing, but I’m just, you know, curious. What’s going on?”
“You’re my uncle and he’s my bestie, of course I’m ‘invested.’” The stress he put on the word was supposed to make it funny, but Oak’s smile didn’t reach his eyes, and he certainly wasn’t acting like the guy I’d been coming to know over the past few weeks.
“And?”
Oak sighed, turning away. “And nothing. It’s not important.”
“It is to me,” I said gently.
He shot me a look and then tried for a cheeky grin. It didn’t work. “It’s just my trauma talking.”
“How about your trauma tells me what it’s talking about.”
For a moment, I thought Oak was gonna blow me off anyway. It was his right. If he wasn’t ready to talk about things, then I couldn’t— wouldn’t —make him. But I’d hoped we’d have a better relationship by now, and I thought he knew he could talk to me about anything. But then he sat back down and grabbed my half empty mug from the table. I thought it was so he would have something to do with his hands, but then he took a drink and grimaced. He liked sugar in his coffee, and I didn’t, so I was sure it didn’t taste good to him. That’s what he got for being a coffee thief.
“It used to be,” Oak began after another minute of silence, “that the best examples I had of a good, healthy relationship came from books and movies. And they’re fake. But then I really got to know Grams and Gramps. Sean and Mary Mulligan are relationship goals.”
I grinned, thinking about my parents. Forty-five years together and still stupid in love. When they argued, they always worked through it together. And arguments were few and far between. They communicated and loved and still danced in the kitchen when they thought no one was watching. I’d always wanted to find a love like theirs.
“They are.” I couldn’t help the fond smile. And then the words Oak hadn’t said sunk in. And even though it wasn’t exactly a surprise, I asked anyway. “Your parents aren’t like that?”
The scoff was epic. “No one I know is like that. Toxic masculinity for the win.”
“So, you want to make sure Charlie and I are good?”
“I want to see more healthy relationships in general. But especially between two guys.” Oak pushed my mug back and stood up, not looking at me, but I could see the blush staining his cheeks. Why was he embarrassed? Before I could ask, though, he was walking out of the room. Before he disappeared, he shot over his shoulder, “Don’t fuck it up.”
I might have taken offense to the fact that he thought I’d be the one to mess it up, but I understood what he was saying now. And the most important part was that he was invested in this not because he needed to see healthy and happy queer relationships modeled. Oakley’s trauma had trauma, and I’d have to see about getting him to agree to talk therapy. But that was something he would have to do on his own. For now, the best thing I could do was support him.
And lucky for all of us involved, I had no intention of fucking things up with Charlie.
I was still thinking about Oak as I drove to Black Dog Inn. There was suddenly this added pressure that things with Charlie had to go well, or else Oak would be disappointed too. For a moment, that consumed my brain and I nearly panicked. But then I realized that was stupid. As much as I wanted to give Oak the world, I couldn’t base my relationship around him. And I didn’t have to. Charlie and I were going to do what was best for us, whatever that would be, and Oak would deal with it. Besides, as Oak had pointed out, I had the perfect example of a good and lasting relationship.
Thinking of my parents gave me an idea.
As soon as I parked the truck, I hopped out with boxes in hand. The outside door to the dining room was propped open, so I dashed through it to drop the baked goods in their designated spots. Charlie wasn’t at a table, so that most likely meant he was in his office already. I grabbed his cupcake and jogged through to the lobby, gaze immediately searching the window for Charlie.
His face lit up when he saw me. He stood and crossed to the door, where I was quick to meet him. When I handed over the box, he groaned, but he was laughing too.
“I can’t take any more sugar.”
I blinked and tried to keep my disappointment off my face. “Oh. Uh, well, I can just—”
“At least not without an appetizer first.” He stepped into my personal space, our bodies touching from chest to knees, and lifted his face, his lips slightly parted. It took me about three seconds to realize what he was asking for, and I grinned as I bent to touch my lips to his.
Flirty Charlie was fucking hot.
We kissed, slow and easy, just a hint of tongue, for long minutes. Until he had to set the box down and wrap his arms around me, and I was more than happy to grab his waist and tug him in closer. I kissed his chin, then his cheek, then nosed along his jaw to the spot under his ear. Charlie sucked in a breath when I kissed him there. Oh he liked that. I filed that info away for later.
“No making out in the office,” Nic grumbled, as she pushed past us. We didn’t let go of each other but we both lifted our gaze and watched her slam through the door outside. I stared after her for a second before I turned back to Charlie.
“What’s up with her?”
The little crinkle between Charlie’s brows was exceptionally cute. “She’s working through something right now.”
“Um, okay.”
Charlie stared at the door for a few more seconds before he shook his head and turned his attention back to me and smiled. “Good morning.”
“Yes, it is.” I kissed him again, going a little deeper this time, but pulling back before it went too far. This was his workplace after all, and it wasn’t the best place to make out. I let him go slowly, making sure he was good to stand on his own, before stepping back and leaning against the door frame. Charlie licked his lips as he took me in. I flexed just so he would laugh. It came out as more of a groan.
“Behave.” Charlie seemed a little flustered, so when stepped over to his chair and sat down, I didn’t protest even though I wanted to. I just adjusted my stance so that I could keep him in eyesight.
He was just so damn good looking. I could literally stare at him all day, and I was glad that it didn’t make him uncomfortable anymore. But as soon as I had the thought, I saw him adjust the sleeves of my flannel—and how freaking hot was it that he was still wearing it as an overshirt?—so I averted my gaze and cleared my throat.
“Dad’s got a new haul today so I’ll be at the sawmill all day,” I began conversationally.
Charlie turned to his desk. “Okay. Make sure you’re safe. I like you with all fingers, toes, and limbs attached.”
I held up three fingers close together. “Scout’s honor.”
Charlie chuckled. “I bet you were a boy scout.”
“Never made it past cub scout, sadly.” I pushed off the door, shaking my head as though it was such a tragedy. Charlie still didn’t look at me, but he was grinning. I stepped in closer but made sure to give him plenty of room. “Hey, listen. What do you think about us having dinner with my parents?”
Charlie went absolutely and completely still. For a few seconds there, I wasn’t even sure he was breathing. But then he took a deep breath and glanced up at me. It was just a fraction of a second, but I saw the whites of his eyes.
“Don’t you think that’s kinda soon?”
“Why? I want you to meet them, they’re great. And I want them to meet you. We’re in this, dating, doing it for real and working on…oh.” My brain caught up and realized that maybe meeting the parents already was the opposite of the slow Charlie asked for. I had thought he just meant on the physical side of things, and I was perfectly happy with that. But maybe he meant the relationship as a whole. “Is this another pump the brakes moment?”
He blinked at me. “What?”
“I’m moving too fast. I didn’t mean to. I just love them and care about you, so I wanted you to meet. But you wanted slow, and you clearly didn’t just mean… Anyway, it doesn’t have—”
“Teague.”
“Hmm. Yes? Really, it can wait.”
He stood and grabbed my hands, holding them tightly. I stared at them for a moment before lifting my gaze to his face. He was smiling softly, but his eyes were a little sad, and that wounded something in me. I never wanted to make him sad.
“It is a little fast. We’ve only had two dates—”
“If you don’t count the porch building.”
His smile grew a touch. “Yeah, if you don’t count that. And I’m all in too. But it still is a little fast. And to be honest, I don’t have the best track record with parents.”
I gaped at him. I didn’t believe it. Charlie was the sweetest human on the planet—yes, I was probably biased—and I couldn’t imagine anyone not liking him, let alone a parent. He was smart, funny, and gorgeous. He had a good paying job before, he was steady and stable. Any parent would be glad to have him dating their son. Unless he meant…
“Are you talking about your own parents?”
Charlie dropped my hands and turned away. Dammit mouth! Why’d you get us in trouble? I wanted to touch him, to wrap my arms around him and hug him, but I wasn’t sure if he would welcome it. I knew I had to fix it and fast.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. Forgive me.”
He still didn’t react other than to cross his arms over his middle. Just a little bit ago I swore I wouldn’t fuck things up with him, and now I had. There was no way to fix this. It hadn’t been on purpose, I would never hurt him on purpose, but that didn’t negate the fact that I had. Part of me thought I should leave, but I couldn’t when he was so upset. Did I go find Nic? Get Dana? Steal his phone and call his brother?
“My parents are not great.”
It took a second for me to realize Charlie was speaking, and I held my breath, waiting for him to go on. I didn’t move, didn’t speak, and just hoped he would keep talking. But when he didn’t say anything else I tentatively requested, “Define not great.”
It still took him a few moments to answer, but at least he turned so he could see me out of his periphery. “I was a disappointment from the moment I dared to be born at twenty-eight weeks. They couldn’t even be bothered to give me a name.”
Murder is wrong.
I had to find my voice, but when I managed to make it work, all I could do was croak, “What?”
A sad sort of smile crossed Charlie’s lips. “Yeah. There’s a whole story there and maybe I’ll tell you the details someday. But the gist of it is, my brother named me. After a character in his favorite movie and they just…went with it. And it never got better, even though I defied the odds and lived. Nothing I could do or say was good enough. Especially for my mother.”
“Oh, baby.” My heart completely broke for this man and all I could do was open my arms and invite him in. He drew a ragged breath, then stumbled the few steps separating us. I caught him and hauled him in tight, squeezing when he clearly needed the pressure. He wasn’t crying, but he was shaking a little. I pressed my face down into his hair and held him. “I’m so, so sorry.”
He nodded, his head bumping into my nose, but neither of us cared. Then he tucked his face against my neck and just breathed. I took pride in the fact that when I offered comfort, he accepted it quickly. Charlie needed to be held together and he trusted me to do it.
I wasn’t paying attention to how long we stood there, but eventually he calmed. When he lifted his head, his smile was shaky but a hell of a lot more real. “Parents are…tricky.”
I kissed his cheek, then his nose, and then held his face in my hands. “I swear to all that is holy, my parents are not like that. I would never put you in a bad situation. But I get it, so they can wait.”
Charlie visibly shored himself up. Then he took a big breath and let it out very slowly. “No. Clearly yours aren’t scary. They raised you and Regan, and Oak loves them. So, we can have dinner.”
He meant it. I could see it in his eyes. But I also realized that it was a big, uncomfortable step for him, and that he had trauma surrounding it. I thought fast, wanting to make this as easy as possible. A clang from the dining room gave me the perfect answer.
“How about this? I’ll bring my parents for dinner service one night. They love Dana’s food. And then you can join us in a comfortable environment, and if you need to escape, out the door you go. No hard feelings. Easy peasy. How does that sound?”
Charlie thought about it for a moment and then his smile solidified. “I can work with that.”