Chapter 11 #2
“That's when the spider incident happened. Benny threw his shirt, himself, and a very loud scream out before we ran in here.” Jack added in his trademark smirk and relaxed further against the kitchen island. Unlike his time at Ms. Peggy’s and Roger’s, here he looked at ease.
Was it because he wasn't being asked to do a chore, or was it because he liked Callum?
“Well, I'm glad there was actually a spider and that wasn't some sex code for something.” Callum shook his shoulders out a little. “I feel like that would have been something to do with the legs? And maybe something I couldn’t unknow.”
Benny avoided Jack’s gaze like it was a runaway train coming right for him.
“What is it with you and Ethan and codes?” he pivoted. “You two act like I’m constantly trying to be the James Bond of the sex world. When have you ever heard me use a code for anything?”
Callum leveled a look at him.
“Well, since last week I’ve been learning a lot about you. Forgive me for questioning what I thought I already knew.” He said it as a joke, humor outward facing and loud, but Benny knew how to see past a wall of Callum humor.
He was hurt about being left in the dark.
Part of Benny wished he'd stayed in his room. The other wished he'd stayed in Nashville.
The guilt came back for Benny in one swift movement. It nearly carried him to the truth.
Jack slid between the urge and the action with a small rock forward on his heels. He wasn’t smirking anymore, but he wasn’t outright annoyed either.
“Well, spiders and codes aside, I think we better get a move on if we want that boat.” He reached his hand out to Callum. “Thanks again for letting us take the supplies. I can pay you back for whatever we end up using.”
Callum accepted the shake, smile still there and still polite.
It didn’t reach his eyes.
“Don't worry about it,” he said. “If it helps Roger unclench a bit, then it's a worthy cause.”
Jack went into the garage to get the box.
The silence that followed burned through to Benny’s core.
He couldn't take it.
“Why are you home, by the way?” he asked. “Is everything okay at the bank?” Callum worked as the manager at Willington Trust off Main Street. He rarely left before five on weekdays, a man who truly loved the structure of an eight to five.
“The bank’s fine but Melanie called and asked if I could pick up Justus from school. There’s a lot going on at work and school for her right now so I had to force her to let me help out.”
His smile now reached his eyes.
Melanie Teller had been Callum’s friend since they’d met through her young son, Justus, as part of Cal’s volunteering at the Boys & Girls Club.
That had been years ago and, although he no longer volunteered, his free time was still split between their home and his.
Cal and Benny had also been somewhat absorbed into the Teller family fold during the last few holidays.
In fact, there was a Christmas present with Justus’s name written on it hidden in Benny’s closet back in Nashville.
Melanie had been single for their entire friendship.
So had Cal—a coincidence according to him—but everyone in Arbor Bay knew the truth.
And, for once, they had collectively decided to not push the man towards it.
Even Carol, to Benny’s continued surprise.
One day, he’d figure it out himself.
Today wasn’t the day.
Jack walked back in, box in hand, and the conversation was over.
Benny eyed the cardboard with deep suspicion.
Jack caught on and shook it.
“Don't worry. I checked it for any crawling things. We're clear.”
Benny still kept his distance as they said bye to Cal and left the house. It wasn't until the box was secured in the truck bed that he remembered what had happened before the whopping familial guilt had overtaken him.
The whopping hard-on.
And the wandering hand.
All because he had kissed Jack.
Suddenly, Benny felt like a giant cursor had found and clicked him.
If they had been going their own separate ways now, he might have buried his emotions.
Instead, they were going to paint a nursery together.
“This would be a great blog post,” he muttered to himself, sliding into the passenger seat.
“What's that?”
The flames of Benny were lit again.
There wasn’t a space left in the truck to hide from the blurting of words that came out next.
“So, yeah, Callum came in, we had to cover for our story, and things got a little too physical and I want to apologize for that and uh—well—this,” he waved his hand up between them, “but I promise it won’t happen again and I’m sorry…
again. And if there’s anything I need to do to compensate you?
Or if you want to end this, I get it. Or, you know, I can actually go to Roger’s myself and paint and you can take some time off to relax or whatever and that would be fine.
You know, whatever you need to do after this.
” Benny shook his hand again. His embarrassment grew.
“I mean that— You know, what happened in there. With me and the kiss. And the… Well, my hand. Either way, it won’t happen again. Promise.”
Benny didn’t run out of steam, but he did run out of words.
He pulled the guilty hand in question back from the space between them.
Jack didn’t even flinch as he started the drive out of the neighborhood.
A wild worry that Jack had somehow not heard him almost earned a repeat performance.
Luckily, the other man was faster.
“Listen, I’m not about to complain about a problem I asked for,” he started, not blurting his words at all.
“I asked you to play a part, and that’s what you did in there.
” Jack gave a little shrug. “If you ask me, that was a good exercise in thinking quick. Even your hand knew it had to keep our cover.”
They rolled up to a stop sign and Jack rolled out a wink right after.
“Though, let it be known, that had we kept going, that hand of yours wouldn’t have been enough to cover anything of mine.”
Benny felt his jaw unhinge, mouth falling past agape and right below sea level.
Jack didn’t just laugh, he evil-stepmother cackled.
“It’s like we’re playing a game here, Benny Boy.
You’ve got to learn to let loose a little and have fun with it.
A kiss here or a grope there is only going to do us good in the long run with this thing.
I know it didn’t mean anything other than we’re just two good-looking guys who can’t help but react when we press against things.
” He actually reached over and patted the top of Benny’s hand.
That hand.
“Don’t sweat it, sweet cheeks,” Jack continued.
“But maybe we can keep our clothes on during this next Southern hospitality, pain-in-the-ass favor. I know we can’t physically make a baby, but I’m thinking we shouldn’t try in Roger Norman’s nursery.
I’m all for the play of it all, but even that might be beyond the bartender special. ”
Benny didn’t know what to tackle first.
The fact that what had happened between them hadn’t meant anything or the image of them not painting at Roger’s house. Or the first comment about the hand to what the hand wanted ratio being off had Jack been more aroused.
Benny mentally held onto the last part since it seemed the safest thing to question.
“The bartender special? That makes it sound like you’re playing these games with others.”
Jack thumped the back of Benny’s hand.
This time his laugh was all mischief.
“No way, sweet cheeks.” He shook his head. “When it comes to the bartender special, you’re the only one I’m serving.”
Benny had been through a lot emotionally—and sexually—in the last half hour, but right then and there, he decided one thing and one thing only.
He hadn’t kissed Jack because it was some kind of hands-on practice to strengthen their cover or because it was part of a bit.
He’d kissed him because he’d forgotten that they were doing a bit at all.
Hashtag: I’m screwed.