Uncharted Terrain

Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Lance woke up as he always did lately, with his man wrapped snugly around him. A few months ago, this position would have elicited nothing but confusion. But now it felt like life’s greatest gift. He sighed with contentment and turned over slowly so he could be face-to-face with Tanner.

Already awake and grinning at him, Tanner looked as if he’d read his mind.

“Morning,” Tanner greeted, inching forward so he could claim a kiss. Lance leaned in, and their lips connected chastely. Tanner’s hand gently massaged his back, as he hummed softly.

“What’s the plan for today?” Lance asked.

“It’s Sunday. It’s illegal to make plans for Sunday.”

“Plans are my love language,” Lance protested while shaking his head. Then he paled, panicking at having used the L word. Tanner burst out laughing.

“Stop!” Lance commanded, but Tanner was too far gone. Apparently, Lance’s fear that Tanner would hear the word love and run away screaming, called for maniacal laughter.

Lance smashed a pillow in his face to shut him up, but Tanner just kept laughing.

“I’m going to take a shower,” Lance announced loudly.

“Oh, babycakes , don’t be like that!” Tanner whined comically, watching his hot man march his very fine ass into the bathroom.

Lance gave him the finger before slamming the door shut.

After a long, steamy shower, Lance walked out in a towel to find the bedroom empty, and the bed made. Tanner was often the first one downstairs, throwing on anything at hand to get to the coffee maker as quickly as possible. But Lance wasn’t one to rush and liked to take his time getting dressed. Choosing his clothing with care was part of his morning ritual. Once dressed, he headed downstairs, listening to Tanner as he talked on the phone.

“Hmm. Yeah. Okay, no, but the thing is—” he stopped, and as Lance turned the corner to the kitchen, he found him scowling at his mug of coffee. He must have heard Lance’s approach, because he grabbed the other mug of coffee, offering it to him with a distracted smile.

“Listen, Mom, I hear you, I’m just not sure I can make it tonight—no, not because—Mom, seriously, you have to stop talking to my therapist. Because it’s weird! Well of course I know you love me, that’s not what I’m—” He looked increasingly dispirited as his mother continued to browbeat him into submission.

Finally, Tanner surrendered with a big sigh, looking pained.

“Okay. No, I said okay. It’s fine. Yeah, I’ll be there, I promise.” He paused to pinch the bridge of his nose as his chin dropped to his chest.

“Hmm, yeah. White wine, got it. No, I’ll be there, no worries. Okay, at 7:00. Got it. Thanks. Love you too!” He pushed the end call button, staring balefully at the phone as if it was totally at fault for everything that had just transpired.

Looking up at Lance, he grimaced and briskly rubbed his face, wanting to howl in frustration.

“Stop looking at me like that! You don’t understand! You haven’t met my mother. No one says no to that woman,” he protested and hung his head in defeat.

“If you say so—” Lance said, biting his bottom lip to keep from laughing. “So, what did you promise her?”

“She hosts a family dinner every Sunday, and I usually make up an excuse not to go. But since I bailed on her three weeks in a row, my ass is toast!”

“Sounds like she’s on the war path,” Lance concluded.

Tanner sighed and nodded.

“Alright, so you’re going to your mom’s house for dinner with your family. Why the long face?”

Tanner shrugged and slammed back his coffee. Then he went to the sink and washed his mug, scrubbing industriously while muttering a variety of angry epithets about bossy, interfering family members. Lance just watched and wondered if Tanner really thought ignoring the question would make him drop the issue. Ha! Fat chance of that!

“T,” Lance said, looking at him expectantly.

Tanner set down his coffee mug.

“My mother loves to set me up,” he confessed with an unhappy frown as his shoulders slumped.

“With girls?” Lance asked.

“Of course, with girls!” he growled angrily. “Sorry—I just—”

Lance suddenly realized that this was no small issue for Tanner. He put his cup down and went to him, pressed his chest against his back, and propped his head on his shoulder.

“How can I help? Do you want me to fake an emergency and call you midway through dinner? Do I drive the get-away car? Am I grabbing the stash of emergency funds from my safe so we can make a run south of the border?”

Tanner stopped scowling and turned his head away to hide his growing smile.

“You’re such a dick,” Tanner muttered.

“That explains why you like me. What with your newfound passion for giving head and all,” Lance replied, reminding Tanner what he’d said a few nights ago after an hour of teasing, licking him like a lollipop, until he’d erupted like Vesuvius.

“Fucker,” Tanner grunted with a reluctant smile, no longer able to hide his amusement.

He spun around, crossing his arms over his chest as he looked up at Lance. With his back pressed against the kitchen sink, he grinned mischievously.

“What?” Lance asked, suspicious of this abrupt mood shift and that crafty smile.

“You could come,” Tanner said.

“What?”

“Tonight. You could come to dinner with me.”

“Why in the hell would I do that?” Lance began shaking his head as he held up both hands, looking as if Tanner had suggested jumping off the side of a cliff.

“Because I need you to distract my mother so she won’t ask me a million questions about what I want to do with the rest of my life, or when I plan to start dating again or—” he sighed, and Lance could see the helpless frustration in his expression.

“As a friend?” Lance asked, cautiously.

“Well, yeah, obviously,” Tanner responded automatically. His eyes shot wide, as though realizing what he’d said and worried he’d offended Lance. Before Tanner could reassure him, he quickly backpedaled.

“Not forever, but—you know, until we—I mean—”

Lance barked out a laugh and leaned down to press his forehead against Tanner’s to calm him down.

“Let’s never bullshit each other. You’re not ready to come out to your family. I’m not ready to call myself your boyfriend in public either. No worries, sweetheart,” he said affectionately. “We’re all good. Figuring it out as we go, and often confused as hell, but it’s all good, right?”

“Right,” Tanner agreed, feeling hugely relieved.

Lance pulled back first and smiled down at Tanner. He kissed him. Once, then twice.

“So, dinner at your mom’s house. What should I bring? She more into flowers or baked goods?”

“Are you sure about this? You don’t have to go with me. I’m fine going alone. Really.” Tanner’s words tumbled out in a rush.

“To be totally honest with you, I didn’t want to leave your side today so—” he confessed with a shrug.

“Ha! It worked! I have you hooked!” Tanner gloated.

“In your dreams, G.I.,” Lance said, trying to play it off.

“You certainly are,” Tanner replied with a waggle of his eyebrows before grabbing Lance’s ass playfully.

It was another typical Sunday of going shopping, planning their respective weeks, and enjoying each other’s company. While neither of them felt ready to take the plunge and come out officially, they had become more comfortable with doing things together in public. Tanner often draped an arm around Lance’s shoulders or waist as he pointed to specific items to add to their shopping cart. They didn’t bother pretending to have separate grocery lists. Tanner hadn’t stayed overnight at his condo in weeks. Perhaps by now Lance should have been craving his personal space, but he didn’t feel crowded in the least because he was so happy to have Tanner in his life and sleeping every night under his roof.

He'd lied about not being ready to call himself Tanner’s boyfriend. He’d said it because he didn’t want Tanner to feel pressured or trapped. Which really didn’t jive too well with his earlier claim that they weren’t supposed to bullshit each other. But the truth was that Lance was afraid. Deathly afraid, really, that if he came clean, Tanner would take off and he’d never get him back. That was his ultimate fear. So, he’d kept his true feelings under wraps, not wanting to take any chances of rocking the boat.

It had been a relaxing, stress-free Sunday. Bright and fun, and full of their usual banter, but during the drive over to the family dinner that evening, Lance noticed a distinct shift in Tanner’s mood. It was nothing much at first. Just a tick in his jaw, restlessness while he was driving. He began to shift around in his seat like his leg was bothering him more than usual.

“What’s your mom’s name?” Lance asked, wondering what the problem was but hesitant to question him directly.

“Louise,” Tanner replied flatly.

“That’s a pretty name.”

Tanner merely shrugged.

Lance had bought flowers, and a large pie, because his mother had taught him never to show up empty handed, but now he was thinking it might have been a bit over the top.

“Maybe this is a stupid idea,” Lance said, because he’d promised not to bullshit Tanner, and he suddenly felt sick with nerves. Tanner’s uneasiness was getting to him. Lance’s statement snapped Tanner out of his weird mood and got his attention.

“What?”

“I mean, this deal of having me go with you to your family dinner. Maybe—maybe I should just drop you off and pick you up later—maybe—” but Tanner started shaking his head before he could finish.

“No! No, no, no! You can’t back out on me now!” Tanner was visibly distraught as he turned to him.

“But you look anxious. Like even you think it’s a bad idea.”

“What in the hell are you talking about?” Tanner asked, frowning in consternation. “I’m not worried, I’m just—” and Lance could see it was costing him to reveal what was upsetting him, but at the same time, Tanner was doing so much better these days at letting Lance in. He had learned the hard way that Lance needed him to be open and honest with him, otherwise he’d panic, just like he had the first and only time they’d fought. Tanner sighed and continued. “It has nothing to do with you,” he said, turning to Lance with a reassuring gaze. “I’m just anticipating my mother’s version of the Spanish Inquisition. I love her, I do, but she can be a bit—overbearing. But I want you there. I know that much.”

Reflecting, Lance relaxed and settled back in his seat. He couldn’t do anything to relieve Tanner’s anxieties about this dinner, but he was happy to know he wasn’t the cause of them.

The driveway was packed. There was a white minivan, a red Jeep, and a big pickup truck parked in the driveway, so Tanner parked on the street.

“The flowers are nice,” he said as they walked side-by-side towards his childhood home.

“Guy at the flower shop picked them out,” Lance said, with a shrug.

Tanner eyed him doubtfully. He hadn’t gone in with Lance, preferring to stay in the truck with the AC set on arctic blast since it was so damned hot out, but he’d seen Lance’s enthusiasm before entering the shop.

“Fine. I picked them out,” Lance admitted, and Tanner’s smile was smug as he elbowed him companionably.

“No BS, remember. Not with each other.” His sincerity eased the worry swirling in Lance’s gut.

Tanner didn’t bother to knock. He just pushed the door open and gestured for Lance to follow him as a cacophony of sounds greeted them. They heard a dog barking excitedly as well as the collective screams of children and adults.

“Mom?” Tanner called out, as he toed out of his shoes. Lance followed his lead. Tanner’s mother didn’t answer him, and the screams were getting louder.

Tanner led the way farther into the house, but they didn’t see anyone until they got to the living room, where a game of Monopoly was in progress, the clear cause of the chaos.

“You can’t do that!” Clara was yelling, standing next to the board, stomping her foot as she screamed down at her younger sister. Lucy looked entirely unmoved by her older sister’s tantrum. She was sucking on a bottle of water, holding a wad of cash and waving it around victoriously.

“Clara—” Mark was saying, “you shouldn’t scream at your little sister.”

“But, Dad, she’s cheating!” Clara screamed, pointing accusingly at Lucy.

“Winning doesn’t mean cheating. Sit down, before you hurt yourself,” he advised firmly. How she might injure herself, Tanner hadn’t a clue.

“No!” she yelled as she kicked the Monopoly board. All the game pieces, money, and cards went flying in every direction, causing Lucy to burst into tears.

Mark was the one yelling now. Having finally lost his patience, he stood, picked up Clara as if she was a sack of flour, and tossed her over his shoulder. He marched out of the living room, barreling straight for Tanner and Lance, who quickly stepped aside.

“Hey guys,” Mark said, not stopping as he continued down the hall, Clara pounding his back with her fists while screaming at the top of her lungs. Tanner shrugged at Lance, and they turned back towards the living room.

Lucy had finally stopped crying and was settled next to Cameron, who was putting all the Monopoly pieces back in the box. Cameron looked up as Tanner walked in, an exhausted smile on her face. Then she noticed Lance standing behind him and her eyebrows shot up.

“You brought reinforcements?” she asked with a smirk.

“Figured we could leave him with the girls while you and I have a drink,” Tanner replied.

“What’s his standard charge for babysitting?” Cameron asked, eyes sparkling with hopefulness.

Tanner shot a look behind him and shrugged. “Cold beer and a steak?”

Lance gave him a shoulder bump and eased around him.

Cameron got up from the floor, prompting Lucy to look up and notice Lance.

“Hi, Uncle Lance!” she exclaimed with a big smile.

Cameron’s eyebrows went up again.

Lucy scrambled to her feet and threw herself at Lance’s legs. She wrapped her tiny arms around them and squeezed as hard as she could.

“Hey, Lucy,” Lance said, finding it a bit awkward to be called an uncle as he bent down to pick her up. “I didn’t—” he began, straightening up as Lucy draped herself around his neck. He looked apologetic, not quite sure where to even begin trying to explain Lucy’s adoration.

“Don’t—I’m just amazed that you made such a good impression,” she said, waving off his concern.

Lance patted Lucy’s back and smiled.

“Where’s Mom?” Tanner asked.

“Upstairs, I think. She went up to get—something, about ten minutes ago,” she replied.

“Whose pickup is parked in the driveway?”

“Dave’s,” Cameron said with a hint of disapproval.

“Dave?”

She nodded, then peered up the staircase like she was worried their mother would catch them gossiping.

“Hot neighbour Dave. He’s been coming over to help with—everything. Mowing the grass, trimming her roses, you name it, Dave’s been doing it.”

Tanner might not be the sharpest tool in the shed, but he recognized a double entendre when he heard one.

“They’re banging?” he gasped in horror.

His sister shushed him, checked the stairs again, and then scowled at Lance when he snickered.

“Maybe. I don’t have any real evidence yet, but they went upstairs awhile ago supposedly to check out a curtain rod that needs fixing.”

“Oh, dear God in heaven! Please, oh please, tell me that’s not a euphemism,” Tanner begged his sister as he put his hands together in prayer.

“Shall I tell you about when he unjammed her gutters, or when he fixed her spit roaster?” Cameron asked with an exaggerated wink.

“Cameron!” Tanner groaned. “Stop! Stop, stop, stop! Dad’s barely in the ground! This is so fucking embarrassing!”

“You’ve got to face facts here, Tanner! Dad passed away three years ago. That’s twice as long as hot Dave’s wife has been gone.”

“He’s a widower?” Lance asked, this new twist in the story piquing his interest. Tanner’s family was a helluva lot more entertaining than he could have imagined. Better than reality TV. And they hadn’t even gotten to the dinner part yet!

“Yup, and he’s a rich one too. He owns a gorgeous cottage on Cape Cod and has a 40-foot yacht tied to his dock.”

“Jesus Christ.” Tanner glanced up the stairs, struck with nausea as a sudden image formed of his mother fucking on the staircase.

“I don’t think he had anything to do with this,” Cameron muttered shaking her head. “Satan maybe.”

Lance snorted, which made Lucy giggle. She didn’t really know why, but while she hung sideways from Lance’s shoulder, she was having too much fun to care.

“Isn’t this deal with Dave and your mother all for the greater good?” Lance asked, and both siblings turned to him with identical frowns. The similarity between them was uncanny as they stared daggers at him. “What’s the problem? She found a nice guy who fixes things around her house and can afford to pay for vacations in the Maldives. Sounds like he’s a keeper!” Lance felt he’d properly supported his claim, so why were they frowning so hard? What was their problem with this guy?

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m going to need you to wait in the truck,” Tanner said as he pointed at the front door.

Lance snorted and punched his shoulder, just as Louise and Dave came back down the stairs.

“Thanks again, Dave!” Louise turned to look over her shoulder to beam at him. “You’re a lifesaver, as usual!”

Dave laughed and gave her shoulder a quick squeeze. “The pleasure’s all mine, especially after you served up that fabulous peach cobbler last night!” They all witnessed the blatantly sexy wink he gave her.

“She made him peach cobbler?” Tanner hissed angrily in Cameron’s ear.

“Travesty,” she agreed, shaking her head and crossing her arms.

Lance fought hard not to laugh. No wonder Tanner was so quick-witted. Humour clearly ran in the family.

“Tanner!” Louise exclaimed, when she caught sight of him. She rushed over and threw her arms around him, squeezing tightly. He smiled and returned her embrace. He would never outgrow the need for her rib-crushing hugs.

“Hi, Mom!”

Louise pulled back to get a good look at him. She had a mother’s X-ray vision, making him feel as if she could see all the way to the very marrow in his bones.

“You look great, kiddo. So much better than—” she shook her head, and before he could fill in the blanks, she hugged him again. From his vantage point during the hug, he saw Dave’s approving smile.

Louise stepped back and reached for Dave’s arm to pull him towards her.

“Dave, this is my son Tanner. Tanner, this is my nice neighbour Dave. He’s been so kind to help me around the house and I’m ever so grateful!” She patted Dave on the arm and gave him another brilliant smile.

Tanner kind of wanted to slug the old guy.

“Tanner, it’s great to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much about you,” he said, extending his hand toward him. Dave seemed like a genuinely nice guy, but Tanner still wanted to take a swing at him. Just for the hell of it.

“Pleasure,” he said, lying through his teeth as he shook his hand.

Tanner suddenly realized that Lance was still patiently waiting for his introduction.

“Right—sorry,” he said as he gestured towards Lance. “Mom, this is Lance Kingsley, a good friend of mine. Lance, this is my mother, Louise. Lance’s been—uh—helping me figure shit out,” Tanner said, rubbing at the back of his neck as he struggled to find a way to explain who Lance was to him.

“Language,” Louise said, out of habit, but she was smiling as she turned to Lance.

“Ma’am,” Lance said with a smile. Setting Lucy down, he picked up the bouquet of spring flowers and the fruit pie from the hall table and offered them to her. “My apologies for arriving unannounced. It’s wonderful to meet you.”

It was such a turn on for Tanner to see his man’s refined charm and old-fashioned manners in action. He could feel his dick twitch in response to that high wattage smile, too. Which—fuck—it was definitely not the time to be getting a boner!

“Oh, my goodness! That’s so very thoughtful of you. Apple pie is my absolute favourite!” she exclaimed, looking up at Lance with a twinkle of maternal pride and affection.

“It’s not homemade, but it’s an American classic. It’s always been a winner at my house, at least,” he said with a shrug.

“Well, aren’t you precious! Thank you very much! I’m glad to know Tanner has a friend like you around.” When she turned to look at Tanner, her eyes were shining with warm approval, so there was no doubting her sincerity.

Thankfully, by the time everyone headed to the dinner table, the kids had declared a truce. Since it was best not to get them stirred up again, Clara and Lucy got their way in commandeering the chairs flanking Tanner and Lance. The dining room chairs were crammed closely together, which worked out well for Tanner and Lance, who were enjoying the hell out of being squished together so tightly they were almost sitting on top of each other. Perfect. Just like home, in fact.

“Well, it’s not really that big of a project—” Dave said in response to Mark’s inquiry about the time and trouble involved in repairing and reinstalling the curtain rod. But Dave was claiming it would be no trouble at all since he enjoyed these kinds of projects.

“You seem quite handy,” Tanner remarked, sounding somewhat accusatory. “What did you do for work before you retired, Dave?”

Lance elbowed him sharply over his tone of voice. Tanner winced and elbowed him right back.

Dave didn’t seem to notice Tanner’s less than friendly tone and smiled warmly at him.

“I was an engineer first, and then later became an airplane pilot. I’ve invested over the years in several different industries. Aviation, mostly, and some car manufacturing. I used to be involved in a business that built engines, but I sold my shares in that when my wife fell ill several years ago.”

“Wow—quite the career,” Mark said admiringly. “Tanner used to be a pilot,” he added, like they were playing a game of spot the similitudes.

Hearing the word “pilot” caused a sudden jolt of adrenaline to hit him squarely in the chest. His throat tightened painfully, as he fought to control his rising panic. It was still light outside, and his mother’s house was warm and cozy. The corpse of what had once existed had no business lingering here. He wouldn’t allow the past to haunt him, not now. Please not now.

He took a deep, calming breath.

“Were you?” Dave asked with marked interest. “What did you fly?”

“Helicopters,” he heard himself say, as if from a great distance. “A Sikorsky UH-60 Black Hawk, usually. But I’ve flown the CH-47 Chinook and AS332 Super Puma as well.”

Dave gave a low whistle, in awe of Tanner’s skillset. Tanner tried to focus on the feeling of his fingers rubbing against the tablecloth, grounding himself firmly in the present so he wouldn’t get bucked off into the past. It was a tough battle, but one he was desperate to win.

“Those particular models are truly impressive in both firefighting and utility operations. I was never a big fan of helicopters. Too much of a coward, I think. One of my buddies was military and he told me all about how his CH-47 Chinook went down one time,” he shivered and shook his head. “You boys are made of tough stuff—” He clearly meant it as a compliment, but Tanner felt his stomach lurch, recalling the paralyzing fear and pain of his own helo crash. He balled his hands into fists and forced himself to breathe through it. He looked up at Dave and nodded, trying to focus on his face and anchor himself to the reality of being here at his mother’s dinner table. It wasn’t that simple though. He could feel the memories pulling him in, like the edges of his vision were haunted by all-too familiar and jarring scenes. He was afraid to even blink—afraid he’d let the memories crawl back in if he looked away from Dave’s face, even for a split second.

“You still flying?” Dave’s voice was just so much static. He was losing ground quickly, as all those terrifying memories swirled and coalesced.

It was so fucking dark out. Not a single fucking star and wasn’t that just his luck. Rescue operations in the dark were always a shitshow, but when the sky wanted to fuck with him on top of it—

“Tanner,” Lance called his name softly, insistently, as his warm hand squeezed his thigh gently, pulling him back. He blinked against the memory of that night long ago as he met Lance’s concerned gaze, surprised by how quickly Lance had figured out what was going on.

He turned back to Dave, clearing his throat and shaking his head.

“Sorry about that,” he apologized as a blush spread across his cheeks.

“There’s no need, son. I understand. Let’s let sleeping dogs lie. Please forgive me for delving into things that are best left alone.” He smiled with warmth and empathy. “Instead, how about focusing on your mother’s extraordinary cooking skills.” He looked towards Louise and winked. “The roast beef is incredible, Louise. As always!”

Feeling a strong surge of affection, he reached for Lance’s hand under the table. They shared matching grins while the casual dinner conversation resumed, and he sighed in relief that everything had returned to normal. He noticed Cameron studying the two of them intently. Tanner decided to ignore her in favor of diving into his mother’s ridiculously delicious roast beef.

They’d nearly made it through dinner without any sign of his mother’s usual meddling, and Tanner was beginning to think he might get through this meal unscathed for once. But sadly, he was wrong. Suddenly, she turned to him, eyes wide like she’d just remembered something.

“Oh, Tanner! I almost forgot—you’ll never guess who I ran into on Tuesday!”

Tanner didn’t want to know and he sure as hell didn’t want to guess jack shit—but he didn’t think he had much of a choice, so he began playing with the food on his plate to entertain himself while she went on the attack.

“Who?” he asked with an internal sigh, knowing she was just going to keep at him no matter what he did or said.

“Candy Tomkins!” she declared, like that name should ring a bell. It didn’t. She scoffed at his blank expression and started describing her.

“You remember Candy! Cute button nose, short blonde hair, she was on your soccer team in elementary school!”

How on earth his mother could remember the full name of a girl who’d been on his elementary soccer team was beyond Tanner. It had to count as a superpower. He reminded himself to keep calm and carry on. A good mantra—it always seemed to work for the British, didn’t it?

“Okay—” he looked at his sister for help, but she just sat there smirking, obviously enjoying this unique brand of torture their mother dished out at these family dinners. Usually designed just for him. Oh, happy day!

“She just graduated from med school and moved back into town. Lovely girl! Her mother and I used to play bridge on Sundays—you remember,” she stated firmly, like it was a fact.

No. Tanner remembered no such fucking thing.

“That’s—” he glanced around the table, hoping someone would step up and save his ass. “That’s nice. Good for her.” But Louise was not done. Not even close. She smiled like a Cheshire cat. And not a single peep out of the rest of the dinner crowd watching the show. Dammit. He was definitely not letting any of them have any of Lance’s pie. He’d take it back home. Leaving his ass out there flapping in the wind—they sure as fuck didn’t deserve any. Desperate to distract himself, he debated the merits of vanilla ice cream versus whipped cream for the topping.

“She’s single. Very pretty too. Fit. She mentioned yoga, and running, I think. It might do you some good! The girls from my crochet club all say that doing yoga regularly is a great way to prevent arthritis.”

Tanner groaned softly, suppressing the urge to pound a fist into his mashed potatoes. He wanted nothing to do with Candy Tomkins, and the very last thing he wanted to talk about was his bum fucking leg. He gritted his teeth and made a last-ditch effort to shut this shit down, once and for all.

“And like I’ve told you at least a hundred times before, I don’t need your help in lining up dates. I’m not looking for anyone right now,” he replied in a reasonably even tone, hoping to put an end to the conversation before it could escalate into a shouting match.

“You’re not 22 anymore! You’re alive, baby! You should be—you know—going on dates and finding someone to settle down with.”

“And Tanner will do that when he feels ready to,” Cameron said, finally stepping up to the stand, when she realized he’d reached the end of his rope. Louise waved her daughter’s comment away.

“Dr. Jones said—” but Tanner cut her off before she could finish.

“No, stop right there. You’re not bringing my fucking therapist into this. Not tonight, alright? I’m—I’m getting there, Mom, but it’s not—” he paused for a moment to regain his equilibrium. He was hyperaware of Lance sitting next to him, easing just a bit closer as his voice rose with frustration. He didn’t want to fight with his mother right now, but he had a funny feeling that if he did, Lance would back him up. “I need a bit more time,” he finally managed to say, and when he looked back up at his mother, she was sitting back in her seat, looking resigned.

“I’ll keep her number just in case,” she finally declared, because she needed to have the last word. Always. Tanner smiled grimly and nodded. What the fuck else could he do?

To escape any further lectures from his mother, Tanner volunteered to wash the dishes. That did not, however, mean he could avoid the other topic that had arisen before dinner that he preferred not to discuss. Ever.

“Your sister’s right, you know,” Lance said, as he dried the salad bowl Tanner had just handed him. He turned with one eyebrow hitched in confusion. Lance nodded towards the living room, where Dave and Louise were dancing with Clara and Lucy. They were each holding a little girl’s hand, leaving one free to clasp each other’s. Things looked a bit too cozy in Tanner’s opinion as he watched the elder duo twirling the little girls around. It was difficult to miss the warm glances shared between his mother and Dave. Even more so the intent behind them.

“Ah—Jeez,” Tanner said, shivered with the realisation that Cameron and Lance were right. “In public, too?”

“He seems like a nice enough guy.” Lance leaned briefly against Tanner’s shoulder in a show of support. Lance was right, of course. It was becoming increasingly obvious that Lance was right about most things. But since Tanner hadn’t been at home when his father had died, it was difficult to put into words how much his passing still weighed on him when everyone else seemed to have moved on.

“What is it, Tanner?” Lance asked, speaking softly as he touched Tanner’s forearm.

Tanner shook his head mutely and wiped down the sink.

Noticing that everyone was in the living room and not paying any attention to them, Tanner decided they should take a short break while they had the chance to be alone.

“Come on,” he said, grabbing Lance’s hand and pulling him along behind him.

He hadn’t been inside the garage in years. It had always been his father’s domain. His mother rarely came in here. If she needed something done, she’d simply asked his father to do it. His dad had always been the one they all counted on to get things done. Unfortunately, now that his dad was gone, the garage had become a complete mess. Piles of stuff all over the place, and mountains of boxes were held in place rather precariously by garden tools and ladders. Tucked away in a corner was an old motorcycle, one Tanner hadn’t laid eyes on since he’d shipped out. He smiled as he limped over to his old friend.

“It’s beautiful,” Lance said, watching Tanner approach the bike like a kid on Christmas morning finally getting the one thing he’d always wanted.

“She really is!” Tanner agreed as he reverently touched the gas tank and padded seat. The bike was covered in a thick layer of dust from years of neglect.

“She?” Lance asked, smiling at him with an arched brow. Tanner rolled his eyes and shot him the finger. All in good fun of course. “She’s yours, I assume.”

Tanner nodded. He wanted so badly to straddle her again. But what was the use? His bum leg would never allow him to ride again.

“You haven’t ridden since you got back?” Lance asked.

“I can’t. My bad leg wouldn’t be able to support its weight.”

This was yet another thing from his former life that was gone now. So many losses, so many things he’d never get back. When Tanner stopped to think about them all, he felt overwhelmed. But then again, in this instance, the bike itself was still here so it wasn’t a total loss. Not really. It was just a damned shame that all he could do was look and touch reverently. She’d been a present from his father when he’d turned 18. For helping out all those years—he’d said. He’d given Tanner an impassioned speech about the dangers of reckless driving before he’d handed over the keys. It had been one of the best days of Tanner’s life.

It was so long ago.

“You ever ridden one?” Tanner asked Lance, who shook his head but kept eyeing the bike like he wanted to give it a go.

“My dad had one, at some point, I think, but—there was never any time to learn about motorcycles with school and football. Besides, I don’t think I have the right look to be a biker.”

“The look? What look?”

“You’re all—tattoos and scars, and tough looking. I’m an accountant. I wear grey slacks to work when I want to change-it-up .”

Tanner laughed, just as Lance had intended. But secretly Tanner completely disagreed with Lance’s self-assessment. Underneath that strait-laced accountant persona was a daredevil jock, well-disguised for now with pressed chinos and pinpoint Oxford shirts, but there all the same. He remembered the man who’d played football with such power and bravery, facing off against opposing teams every season with a confident smile and cocky swagger. That man was still in there. Tanner was sure of it.

“She was a gift from my dad. He’d gotten it from a client of his. It was broken down, desperately in need of a tune up and new paint job. My dad bought it for me, and we fixed it up together.”

“Did he ride?” Lance asked, but Tanner shook his head.

“Never even tried. Said he was too damned old and smart, and that bikes are for the young and foolish.” Tanner gave a shaky laugh recalling the bonding experience of working on the bike together like it was yesterday.

“That’s why you’re upset about Dave,” Lance surmised, stepping closer to Tanner. He didn’t touch him as he kept glancing between the bike and Tanner like he’d just figured it out.

“I’m not upset,” Tanner denied with a snort.

Lance smirked, knowing that Tanner was just fooling himself.

“It’s not fair of me—I know that,” he shrugged, because no, it wasn’t, but— “To them, it’s been three years, but to me—” he shook his head. “I only learned about dad’s death a couple of months ago,” he said in an agonized whisper.

Lance’s heart hurt for Tanner. He wrapped his arms around him, squeezing him close, unsure what to say. He was staggered by the amount of pain Tanner had suffered in such a short period. Deep down, Lance doubted that Tanner had really processed much of anything yet. How could anyone? He’d simply survived to this point. Lance was afraid—far more than he’d ever say out loud—that it would all eventually catch up to him. He hoped and prayed that he would be allowed to be there for Tanner when, or if, that day ever arrived.

“That’s valid,” he said, keeping his arms around Tanner. “But you can’t—” he sighed, “you don’t have to—and shouldn’t!—move on faster than you’re ready for, but you can’t ask your mother to stand still either,” he managed to say. “She’s still young—she deserves to find someone again, right? Just as you deserve the space and time to make your own choices of partners as well.” He paused and clucked his tongue. “We may have a slight problem getting your mom to buy into that last bit, just so you know.”

Tanner was silent for a few moments, simply holding onto Lance as he steadied his breathing.

“It’s getting a little annoying,” Tanner mumbled against Lance’s chest.

“What is?” Lance asked, naively.

“You—always being right, like you’re fucking Yoda. Or the Dalai Lama.”

Lance’s laugh was warm and affectionate, and it settled over Tanner like a cozy blanket, magically soothing all his anxieties, making it impossible to stay annoyed or angry.

He looked up to see Lance gazing at him with a touch of heat.

“I like your family,” Lance said with a smile.

“I like seeing you with them,” Tanner replied. He leaned forward to capture Lance’s mouth in a quick kiss. But it didn’t stay that way for long. Lance buried a hand in Tanner’s hair and pulled him in for one of those extra hot, tongue tangling kisses that made everything else fade away.

“Holy shit!”

The two men jumped apart like they’d been zapped by a Taser. Tanner fell back against the garage door with a clang as Lance pretended to admire the bike’s paint job.

“Holy-fucking-shit!” Cameron exclaimed with eyes as round as saucers.

Tanner stared at his sister, mouth dry, heart pumping. He wasn’t sure how to get himself out of this. Or even if he wanted to. After all, what did it matter what his sister thought? Sure, yeah, he’d gone from straight to gay practically overnight—which had to count as some sort of record—but it wasn’t that big of a deal these days.

“So, you two are together now?”

“We’re—” Tanner hesitated, looking between Lance and his sister.

“Yes,” Lance replied, with an utter finality that anchored Tanner’s feet to the floor.

Cameron looked shocked and mystified at the same time.

“I mean—” she scoffed. “That’s fucking amazing!” Then she looked at Lance in complete bewilderment. “Is he really the best you can do?”

Tanner grabbed the nearest object, a roll of duct tape, and hurled it at her. She jumped aside right before it could hit her.

“Oh, come on! You might be gay now, but I’m still your sister. I have a right to mess with you anytime I feel like it! But seriously, how long has this been going on?”

“A few days,” Lance said, so calmly that Tanner was stunned. How in the hell was he not freaked out saying that? Had they not agreed earlier that day that neither one of them was ready to come out? Then again, hadn’t Tanner told Lance’s ex that they’d been on a date? How was this situation any different?

“Shit! That new?” She gave a low whistle, as though impressed. “I don’t know what to say—I’m glad—happy for you two. But—” Then she shocked the hell out of Tanner by running up to him and wrapping him up in a bear hug.

“You totally scored. He’s fucking hot!” she whispered before stepping back.

“Cameron, please don’t say anything to anybody. We’re not ready to be out yet,” Tanner cautioned her.

“Really? Because you were just now making out in Mom’s garage—” She smirked and put her hands on her hips.

“We didn’t think anyone would barge in on us! No one ever comes out here anymore. What are you doing out here, anyway?”

Cameron pointed to the fridge near the door. “Mom sent me to get his pie,” she said, pointing at Lance.

Tanner threw his hands up in the air. “See!” Tanner rolled his eyes. “I fucking told you it was a bad idea to bring the fucking pie!” he exclaimed, playing it up.

“Okay, so maybe I’m wrong sometimes!” Lance declared with a startlingly bright smile.

“Well, this has been all kinds of entertaining, but I should probably get the pie to Mom before she comes looking for it herself,” Cameron said with a wink. “I can probably cover for you guys so you can have another three minutes of horny-making-out before she gets suspicious and tracks your asses down.”

This time, when Tanner chucked a wad of old newspaper at her, it hit her square in the forehead.

“Touchdown!” Lance said, laughing as they watched Cameron dash back into the house, apple pie in hand.

She’d kidded them about having three minutes to make out, but the urge to use those three minutes for some sexy times was hard to resist as he turned to look at Lance.

“Well—cat’s out of the bag now,” Lance said, looking slightly uncomfortable and lacking his usual air of confidence.

“I’m really sorry,” Tanner said, shaking his head. And he did feel sorry. He also felt fucking elated. How many times had his poor sister walked in on him crying his eyes out, or sobbing while huddled in the fetal position, trying to remember his fucking name, because of all the terrible shit that happened to him in the military. This? This was something entirely different. He was so damned proud of his relationship with Lance. Being with Lance was a good thing. The best thing, and having his sister know the true nature of their relationship made him want to shout it from the rooftops.

“I’m not,” Lance said, shrugging.

Tanner frowned in confusion. Lance sighed and his chin dropped to his chest like he was reluctant to say more than that but couldn’t see any way out of it.

“No bullshit, right?” he asked tentatively, looking up at Tanner.

“No bullshit,” Tanner agreed, gaze locked with Lance’s.

“I’m trying to be—patient, because it feels like we jumped into this with both feet, with no regard whatsoever for how deep we’d go or how or if we’d ever get out and that feels very—unlike me.”

Tanner nodded, not interrupting, curious to hear the rest, but also incredibly amused by Lance’s choice of a water metaphor to talk about their relationship. Maybe he could share this with his shrink sometime.

“It’s only been a few weeks. I shouldn’t be this—” he gestured between them.

“Attached?”Tanner suggested.

“Right. Exactly. But I’m not a college kid anymore, and I feel more for you after only a week than I’ve felt about anyone in any of my past relationships. So yeah—I lied my ass off before about not wanting to label us. I definitely want to call you my boyfriend, or partner, or lover—and I’m glad your sister knows. It feels—it feels right.” His voice shook at the end, fighting for control. Tanner knew exactly how he was feeling.

He grabbed Lance’s hand and squeezed it. Then, taking a deep breath and summoning his courage, he decided to lay his cards on the table.

“Unless you tell me not to, I’m about to do something fucking insane and out us to my entire family.”

Lance felt his heart swell with pride and love. “Let’s do it, Army. I’m right behind you.”

Tanner laughed and pulled him into the house.

Everybody was standing around the kitchen island enjoying apple pie and peach cobbler. Louise was standing next to Dave, exchanging affectionate smiles. Only Mark and Cameron looked up when they walked in, Cameron’s eyes widening in surprise as she noticed them holding hands.

“Mom,” Tanner said, before he could lose his nerve.

His mother smiled at him until she noticed the handholding. Her smile wavered, then disappeared.

“I wasn’t planning on telling you tonight, but—life’s too fucking short, and I really don’t care what people may say or think—Lance and I are dating. It’s very new and a really big change for me, but he’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I wanted you to know.” The relief of sharing this with his family was instantaneous. A huge weight was suddenly lifted from his shoulders, and he felt almost unbearably light, like a helium-filled balloon. “And no, I’m not gay—well, I’m definitely gay for Lance but it’s a new thing. Not like—a hidden thing, or whatever.”

His mother gave a slow nod and opened her mouth to speak, but he forged ahead.

“It’s the same for Lance. But we know it’s not a fluke and we’re definitely committed to each other, so—” he broke off as Lance’s hand settled on his shoulder and squeezed gently.

“Maybe you could let her speak?” Lance suggested gently with a smile. It was obvious that Tanner was anxious, chattering nervously, throwing up roadblocks to prevent negative comments.

Her features softened at their interaction, her expression filled with warmth and kindness.

“Congratulations!” Louise was just as excited as if they’d just announced they were having a baby. She went to Tanner first, enveloping him in a big hug. “Oh, I’m so happy for you, sweetheart! It’s wonderful. So wonderful,” she said, patting him on the back. She sniffled as her eyes flooded with tears.

“Mom, please don’t cry!”

“Let me be happy for my baby boy. You deserve it.” Then she turned and smiled up at Lance. She threw her arms around him and whispered something to him that Tanner couldn’t hear. When they separated, Lance was chuckling softly, eyes shining with happiness.

Louise turned to face the rest of the family, and Clara and Lucy looked around in confusion, waiting for someone to explain what was going on.

“Well, now I need a double piece of pie! To celebrate!” Louise exclaimed happily.

As he leaned on the center island watching his sister cut more slices of pie, his mother began talking about the importance of love and family while stealing glances in his direction. Lance came to stand behind him, wrapping an arm around his waist, and smiling ear-to-ear. Tanner recalled Dr. Jones’ analogy. A place to rest. This was a place to rest. His family, his childhood home, but more importantly, Lance. Lance who stood beside him like a pillar of strength, fitting in so well with his family. As he smiled to himself, he paused to simply enjoy the moment. As he began relaxing against Lance, Tanner noticed his brother-in-law staring at him with a certain “ you little shit ” glimmer in his eyes. Tanner merely grinned back at him. Technically, he hadn’t lied. He’d told Mark he was seeing someone. It wasn’t his fault that Mark assumed it was a woman.