Chapter Ten #2
Miles caught his wrist before he got far. “I meant with me.”
Tanner looked down at his hand on his wrist, then at Miles. “You ask that now?”
“I thought it was implied.”
Tanner snorted before he could stop himself. There it was again, that small change in Miles’ face like Tanner had given him something more than he’d expected, and Tanner didn’t understand it. “Fine. But if you use all the hot water, you can explain it to Savannah in the morning.”
Miles got out of bed. “I’ll take my chances.”
The shower was small and the water pressure wasn’t great, but it was warm, and that was enough.
Tanner stood under it while Miles washed his hands over Tanner’s shoulders and back.
As he cleaned Tanner, Miles kissed him softly, his hands gently touching him.
Tanner had never experienced it before and found himself leaning into Miles' touch.
By the time Tanner got out and dried off, he’d completely relaxed.
They got dressed and went to the kitchen.
Tanner heated the pot pie while Miles put plates on the table.
It should have irritated him, somebody moving that easily in his kitchen, but Miles wasn’t like that.
He just helped and that was the problem.
Miles kept stepping into Tanner’s space and somehow making it feel easier to breathe.
They ate at the table and for a while the only sound was them eating.
Miles nodded toward the folded paper by Tanner’s elbow. “What’s that?”
Tanner glanced down. One of the forms from earlier had been left on the table. He’d shoved it aside before dinner with Savannah and forgotten it.
“Nothing.”
Miles didn’t reach for it. “Didn’t look like nothing.”
Tanner stabbed a piece of crust. “Doctor’s office. Preschool. Same crap.”
Miles waited.
Tanner hated that Miles waited better than most people asked questions. Most people filled the silence because they wanted to hear themselves talk or didn’t like to hear nothing. Miles left room for Tanner to either say something or not and that made it harder to ignore.
“I was trying to get Savannah in somewhere part time,” Tanner said at last. “Just a few mornings. Give her a routine with other kids. Give me time to get things done.” He shrugged and kept his eyes on his plate. “They asked for paperwork.”
“What kind?”
“Proof I can sign for her. Medical forms. School forms. Legal guardianship,” Tanner muttered. “Apparently being the one who feeds her and keeps her alive doesn’t count unless there’s a signature attached.”
Miles put his fork down. “What did you tell them?”
“That I’d come back.”
“And the doctor?”
Tanner’s jaw tightened. “Same thing. We need to register local. They asked questions.”
“You didn’t answer.”
Tanner looked at him then. “Are you surprised by that?”
Miles held his gaze. “No.”
Tanner leaned back in the chair. “I’m handling it.” Miles nodded. “I am.”
“I didn’t say you weren’t.”
“You were thinking it.”
“I was thinking it’s a problem.”
Tanner pushed his plate away though he’d barely finished. “Everything’s a problem.”
Miles was quiet for a second. “Tanner.”
“No, really. The house needs things, Savannah needs clothes every five minutes because she grows out of everything. People behind counters want forms I don’t have. So yeah. It’s a problem.”
Miles didn’t snap back. He didn’t switch into deputy mode either, which Tanner appreciated. “I’m not trying to corner you.”
Tanner laughed, but there was no humor in it. “You’re good at not trying.”
Miles sat back. “Is that fair?”
Tanner rubbed his hand over his mouth and looked away. No, it wasn’t fair. He knew it wasn’t. Miles had shown up with dinner, and he’d eaten at Tanner’s table and asked questions like every other person would. That was the problem. Tanner didn’t know how to do normal. It put him on edge.
“They ask for proof and I don’t have it,” he eventually admitted.
Miles nodded. “Okay.”
Tanner frowned. “Okay?”
“Yeah. Okay.” Miles picked up his fork again but didn’t eat. “That means it’s real, and you’re dealing with it, and I heard you.”
Tanner looked at him across the table. “That’s it?”
“For tonight?” Miles met his eyes. “Yeah.”
They finished eating, then cleared the table together after that. Tanner washed and Miles dried. The rhythm of it was easy enough that Tanner stopped thinking about where Miles was standing. By the time the kitchen was clean, and the leftovers were put away, Tanner felt more settled.
In the living room, Tanner turned off the lamp by the chair. When he came back, Miles was standing by the couch.
“You heading out?” Tanner asked.
Miles studied him. “Do you want me to?”
Tanner opened his mouth and nothing came out right away. He hadn’t actually planned this part. Sex was one thing, but somebody staying over was something else. That reached further into his life than he was used to giving anyone.
But Miles had come and had eaten with him. He’d listened without using any of it against him, and Tanner was tired of hearing the house settle around him at night with nobody else in it old enough to understand how he felt.
“You can stay,” Tanner finally said.
Miles didn’t make a big deal out of it. “All right.”
“I’ve only got the one bed.” He winced as soon as he said it. Of course, Miles knew he only had one bed.
Miles smiled. “I’m aware.”
Tanner rolled his eyes and went to the front door to check the lock.
When they got back under the covers, the room was cool and dark except for the streetlight coming in under the bottom edge of the curtain.
Tanner lay facing the wall at first. After a minute, he felt Miles move in behind him, and his hand slid over Tanner’s waist and stayed there.
Tanner kept his eyes open for a while. He listened for Savannah, for any change in the house that meant he needed to get up, because some habits die hard.
Eventually he let his hand rest over Miles’ where it lay against his stomach. He didn’t say anything, and Miles didn’t either. By the time sleep came, Tanner was warm and full, and no longer the only adult in the house. For one night, it was enough.