Chapter 17
Chapter 17
No one mentioned the Department of the Army correspondence again. Tanner returned to work the very next day after the incident. No one treated him any differently than they had the day before. He’d spoken briefly with his sister on the phone, but even she had acted as if nothing had ever happened. Tanner had told Lance as much as they’d cuddled on the couch that night after work. His relief had been obvious, and the rest of their week had gone smoothly.
When Lance came home on Thursday night, he found Tanner’s truck already parked outside. Lance was running really late because of extended client meetings, so he wasn’t surprised that Tanner got home first.
“Tanner?” he yelled as he walked in the door.
“Kitchen!” Tanner yelled right back.
Lance put down his briefcase, slipped off his shoes and padded his way to the kitchen, where dance music was playing and lots of enticing smells were coming from the stove.
Tanner had three pans on the stove and was busy stirring something in a skillet.
“What’s all this?” Lance asked, unable to hide his amusement.
“Date night,” Tanner replied, spinning around to grin at him, bubbly with excitement. Lance chuckled and stepped closer, wrapping his arms around him and pausing to breathe him in. It was hard to describe how his world could tilt the right way on its axis when he was finally able to hold Tanner in his arms at the end of the day.
“Pretty sure it was my turn to make plans for date night,” Lance said, kissing his way up the side of Tanner’s neck.
“True—” he said, pausing for a moment to enjoy Lance’s kisses, “I was pretty sure you’d probably make reservations somewhere but—after the week we’ve had—I thought it might be a good idea to stay in.”
Lance soaked in the magic of this new domestic bliss and smiled. “Sounds perfect!”
Tanner chuckled, turning back towards the stove. Although he couldn’t see his face, Lance was certain Tanner had done a dramatic eyeroll.
“Don’t be so sure—I’ve decided to experiment with two new recipes, which might mean food poisoning for the both of us,” Tanner declared with a quick wink over his shoulder.
“I used to live on Hamburger Helper and microwaved Kraft cheese on toast—I’m pretty sure I can handle your cooking.”
Tanner snorted and kissed him before pushing him out of the kitchen, claiming he needed to concentrate.
Lance headed to the bedroom to change, and ended up raiding Tanner’s selection of lounge wear, which was way more comfortable than anything Lance owned. Just as he started to leave the room, he noticed something out of place.
Lance usually slept on the right side of the bed. Tanner preferred the left, so he’d staked his claim on the left side nightstand. The drawer was slightly ajar, and a familiar manila envelope was partially showing. Curious to see if Tanner had gotten a new missive from the Department of the Army, he reached for it. He hesitated, counseling himself that it was not his business. Was he turning into a Nosey Parker like Tanner’s sister? But he reached for it anyway and opened it to find a statement regarding a lump sum payment notice. Recalling that Tanner had been waiting on this for awhile, he scanned down the page to see that his back pay amount was $375,000.00. It wasn’t nearly enough. Not for everything he’d lost, but it would go a long way towards helping Tanner get back on his feet financially. He knew that Tanner had barely been getting by since his return to the US. The notice stated the full amount was due to be deposited in his account by the first of next month. Lance slid the notice back into the envelope. Returning it to the drawer, he spotted an open notebook with some writing in it. He couldn’t recall seeing that before. Pulling the notebook closer, he skimmed the handwritten notes.
Hopes and Fucking Dreams
Lance Kingsley
Fly again
Get a real job
Move in with Lance
Lance’s heart pounded with excitement as he read Tanner’s list. Here was solid evidence that Tanner was not the same man Lance had first met on that fateful Sunday afternoon. Lance recalled how Tanner had looked that day, worn down and struggling on every level. Now, as Lance studied Tanner’s list, he could see hope for a better future. Lance briefly contemplated putting the notebook back and not saying anything about it. Hadn’t he been nosey enough for one day? But his excitement overcame his good sense, so he took the notebook and ran back downstairs to the kitchen.
“Hey, dinner’s ready,” Tanner said as soon as Lance walked in, but then he noticed the notebook in Lance’s hand and froze.
“I shouldn’t have looked—I’m sorry, but yes please. To all of it. How can I help?”
“Well, shit,” Tanner said, blushing as he turned back to the stove. But Lance wasn’t about to let him hide. Not when he finally had proof of how Tanner saw their relationship progressing. Which was—thankfully, in the very same direction that he did. And wasn’t that fucking wild?
“Move in with me,” Lance said, without any hesitation. “Break your lease and move in with me.”
Tanner laughed and shook his head like Lance was just being ridiculous. “We’ve only known each other for a month. It’s too soon. I can’t just—”
“Why the fuck not? You’re already living here. Please—please, Tanner, just—fuck the rules, okay?”
“No,” Tanner said firmly, shaking his head. “I can’t. This is nuts! Your family doesn’t even know—”
Lance pulled his phone from his back pocket. “I’ll call them right now.”
“No! Lance, Christ, not over the phone!” Tanner shouted, torn between laughter and outrage.
“Fine—we’ll do it another day, together. But move in with me anyway.” Lance asked again, looking at Tanner with unshakeable certainty.
Tanner chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. “We’re both headed for the looney bin. You know that, right?”
Lance laughed and hugged him excitedly. “I’ll take that as a yes, then?”
Tanner gave a shy nod of agreement.
“Now all that’s left on your list is to get a real job and fly again. Pretty sure Dave could help you with both of those if we asked him to.” Lance pulled back to look down at Tanner, his gaze sparkling with excitement.
“Is that all?” Tanner joked, rolling his eyes.
“Easy shit,” Lance confirmed with a nod. “Now that we’re together, everything else is easy shit.”
“You’re a hopeless romantic!” Tanner declared.
“I thought you said I was destined for the looney bin?”
“That, too!”
They both laughed as they loaded their plates with Tanner’s latest culinary efforts of preparing Swedish meatballs with a side dish of green beans almondine. They dove in hungrily, smiling like idiots at each other. Once Lance had finished his dinner, he sat back to look at Tanner admiringly.
“When did you start it?”
“Start what?” Tanner asked.
“Your list.”
Tanner sighed, knowing he wasn’t going to get out of answering. Lance was stubborn and relentless when he wanted something.
“The same week we went to Moon Pie’s.”
Lance nodded. He recalled how broken Tanner had looked then. Like he was barely aware of where he was or where he was going.
“It was my shrink’s idea. Something about proving to myself I wanted to live.” Although he waved his hand dismissively, he avoided Lance’s gaze. “For a whole week, I just stared at it and couldn’t come up with a single thing to write,” Tanner explained, frowning at the memory. “Then I sort of lost my mind again—and I apparently got the hots for this boring as hell accountant whose couch I was stealing on the regular—and shit started getting really fucking weird after that.” Tanner grinned mischievously.
“Got the hots?” Lance asked, mockingly. “How old are you anyway? Who talks like that?”
“Idiots, clearly.”
“Idiots, granted,” Lance replied with a wink.
Pondering the job part of the list, Lance viewed it as the greatest challenge.
“What kind of job would you like to have?”
“Seriously, Lance. It’s just a list—it’s not that—”
“You said it yourself, T. You had no idea what to write at first, and now you have four things. So, what kind of job?” He pressed for an answer.
Tanner sighed, recognizing that resistance was futile. Lance watched him push a lone meatball around on his plate as he considered the question.
“One that’s not soul sucking?” he joked, shaking his head. “I always figured when I retired from the Army, I could transition to being a paramedic, or a firefighter, but—I can’t do those jobs anymore.”
Lance didn’t try to bullshit him. After everything Tanner had gone through, he was in no way capable of handling a first responder position or anything connected with emergency services. So that meant going back to the drawing board to look at technical skills that Tanner had acquired before and during his military service.
“Would you consider working as an aircraft mechanic?”
“A mechanic?” Tanner looked puzzled.
“Why not? You told me yourself you used to work on the choppers you flew in the Army, and didn’t you restore that old bike your father got you?”
“I mean, sure, I got the bike up and running again, but I had my dad’s help and—I did spend way too much time hanging out on the flightline with the aircraft mechanics just to have something to do and ‘cause I was curious,” he admitted, thoughtfully. “I learned lots about routine repairs and maintenance, mostly. Worked on helos and F-15s, but I don’t think my work experience with those guys would be enough to get me a job. I’d probably have to go through special training to be certified,” he mused, looking up at Lance with something new and different shining in his eyes. Was that what hope looked like?
“So? If you were already planning to go to school to become a first responder—why not go to school to become an aircraft mechanic?”
“Yeah sure, but—you wouldn’t mind if that’s what I end up doing for a living? I mean, it isn’t an impressive job title, like lawyer or accountant or—”
“Or like a lawn care salesman? And for the record, mechanics are technical wizards. I barely understand how the radio in my car works— Seriously, T, I couldn’t care less about your job title. As long as you are happy with your job, then I’m happy, too.”
“What about if I want to be a pornstar?” Tanner asked challengingly.
“Listen, I know I’m new to cock, but I’m pretty sure yours isn’t quite big enough.”
“Hey!” Tanner replied, acting deeply offended as he slapped Lance’s shoulder.
“Seriously, though, if you think about it, now’s the perfect time. You’ll be moving in with me—you won’t have outrageous rent to pay. You can use that big fat government check to pay for school.”
Tanner’s smile was smug as he looked up at Lance.
“Big fat check, huh? Knew you just wanted me for my money.”
“Well, it certainly wasn’t for your cooking skills,” Lance replied in a haughty tone. Tanner punched his shoulder harder this time, making Lance wince and laugh at the same time.
“Jesus, what did I ever do to you? First, you say I lack the proper equipment to make it as a pornstar. Then you say I’m a terrible cook!” he exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air dramatically.
“Ah—but you’re great at so many other things—you know, fun things!” Lance replied, leaning closer as he focused on Tanner’s mouth.
“Like?” Tanner’s pulse raced in anticipation of getting a kiss.
Lance smiled and ran his tongue over his bottom lip.
“Well—” he began, with his lips a scant inch away from Tanner’s, “like doing the dishes, for one,” he said, suddenly jumping to his feet. Tanner growled at being left hanging.
Dropping his plate in the sink, Lance laughed at Tanner’s disgruntlement, thoroughly entertained by all that angry muttering. Lance smiled as he began running hot water in the sink, having no intentions of making Tanner do the dishes by himself.
He didn’t stop smiling for the rest of the evening. Not when they fought over whose job it was to dry the dishes, not when they made plans for the weekend, and certainly not when Tanner took him from behind in the shower. If anything, Lance was confident he’d wake up still smiling.