LT #20: Metaphysics

Chapter 16

“Well, I-I mean…what did you plan to do about it?”

James regarded his lover with some anxiety, his hands curiously unsteady. He tried to hide them behind his back, but Smoke was nothing if not observant. He grasped both of James’ hands in his, bringing them to his lips for a quick conciliatory kiss.

“I didn’t mean to make you feel threatened, Jamie.”

“I’m not,” James lied. “Why should I be?” he demanded almost arrogantly, hating the edge in his voice.

“All I said was…” Smoke drawled out in his lightly accented voice. “I want to go back to school.”

“To do what?” James asked rhetorically. “We’re happy now. We have enough money to get by on.”

“Just barely. But that’s not why I brought it up.”

James clenched his jaw and managed to look both stubborn and vulnerable at the same time. “You want to give up dancing?”

Smoke huffed softly, valiantly trying to stifle a burst of laughter. “I don’t think of exotic dancing as a career, Ja-mie….”

“Suddenly you want a career? Christ, I’m not enough anymore?” James snatched his hands out of Smoke’s grasp and threaded them almost painstakingly through his own hair. A sure sign of agitation. Where some people became flustered or out of control, James retreated to a state of icy rigidity.

Smoke shook his head sadly. “This isn’t about you, Jamie. It’s about me.” He wanted to reach out and touch his lover, but he might as well have been miles away. Instead, he plunged his hands into the pockets of his tight black jeans.

“I thought you’d want what was best for me. But I guess I was wrong.”

James mumbled something under his breath. Something Smoke couldn’t hear.

“What?”

“I said, I’ve been hopelessly selfish all these years, keeping you to myself. I don’t even have the excuse of being able to say, “I have your best interests at heart,” Pete.”

Smoke bit his lip. “It didn’t bother you that I kept dancing, Jamie? That other men were looking at me? Wanting me?”

James looked up, his heart caught in those vivid cobalt blue eyes. “No,” he whispered, “cause you always came home to me.”

“It was a job, dammit. Even I could see that’s all it was,” James commented bitterly.

“A job I’m getting a little too old for, Jamie.”

“Old? You’re not old, Pete! How can you--?”

A melancholy smile traced Smoke’s normally full mouth, thinning out his lips. “Would you want to be doing this at my age, Jamie?” he asked softly.

“I mean…” Smoke cast sorrowful eyes over his own still firm body, the slender frame showing surprisingly little wear and tear for someone close to 30. “…this won’t last much longer.”

Suddenly his head came up sharply, his light blue-grey eyes pensive. “I should be grateful that you still want me, Jamie.”

“Oh, Pete, what do you think I’ve been saying? I love you. I’ll always want you.”

James took a step closer to Smoke, but Smoke backed away. “Then what is it, Jamie? Is it that you don’t think I can do anything but this? You married a dancer. A dumb dancer at that.”

James couldn’t have been more stunned to hear Smoke castigate himself like this. Did he honestly believe that James stayed with him because it made James feel intellectually or morally superior to him? “You’re not dumb, Pete. Did I ever say that? Even once? Even when we were fighting?”

Smoke wrapped his arms around himself, almost vibrating with some kind of inner turmoil. As if it took a physical effort to hold himself together.

A deep frown furrowing his forehead, James gave his lover an incredulous look. “You believe it, don’t you, Pete?”

Smoke shifted uncomfortably under James’ intent blue gaze.

“Who told you you were dumb, Pete? Tell me. I know it wasn’t me.”

“No, it wasn’t you!”

Smoke seemed to shrink before his eyes. He who had always had such a wonderful sense of self-possession was insecure? In a way James had never dreamed.

“Was it your parents, Pete? Your father, maybe?” James inched closer, and he could see the growing terror in Smoke’s eyes.

“No, it wasn’t my father. I didn’t even know my father.” He didn’t sound sad. He sounded numb.

“It was him then, right?” James’ face grew colder, harder. “The one I can’t compete with? The love of your life? The one who drove you here?”

Smoke stared at James, tears welling up in his pale eyes. “He wasn’t the love of my life, Jamie. You are,” he whispered.

“Right.”

“You are. If your opinion didn’t mean so damn much to me, do you think I would be this upset? Please….”

James’ face reflected his anguish at hearing the pleading tone in Smoke’s voice. “But if I’m the only one who matters, Pete….”

“You are.”

“I don’t understand. I never said you were dumb, Pete. I just—“

Tears silently tracked down Smoke’s cheeks. “You just don’t want me to compete with you, Jamie. School is your thing. You’re good at it. But you don’t want me to have anything to do with that part of you.”

“That’s not true, Pete,” James automatically protested. But his heart knew better. He had never been less than honest with himself. Or with Smoke. Until now.

“Jesus, Pete. That’s like saying I want to keep you barefoot and pregnant and in the kitchen,” James snorted derisively.

“All this time, I thought you accepted me. What I was inside. What I could be. But you were just congratulating yourself on finding a…a…body slave.”

James paced several steps away from Smoke, emotion choking his throat. This was all going wrong. Horribly wrong.

Smoke advanced on James, his own anger triumphantly asserting itself over his pain. “Maybe you don’t think I’m dumb, Jamie. But you don’t want me to get any smarter. To me, that’s the same damn thing.”

Smoke hovered ominously over James for several seconds, his breath coming hard and fast as their eyes met. Close. They were so close, their mouths were inches apart. Cursing under his breath, Smoke spun away, damning himself for the desire that even now flared between them.

He strode to the door, slinging his fringed suede jacket over one shoulder. As he opened the door, he looked back over his shoulder, his eyes chilly.

“Where are you going? Pete, please don’t go. We need to talk.”

Now James heard the same pleading note in his own voice, and he hated it for the same damn reason that he hated hearing it from Smoke. Their relationship had always been so balanced. Now it was hopelessly off-kilter.

“I’m going to work,” Smoke clipped off. At James’ dumbfounded look, he put his jacket on and wiggled his hips back and forth, making the fringe dance. “You know. Work. Where I shake my ass. For money.”

“Pete….” James said in a disheartened tone that even gave him pause. He saw Smoke’s curious look, but he didn’t know what else to say.

Finally he said the only thing that came to mind and heart without question. “I love you.”

Smoke closed his eyes as a wave of pain crested over him with such intensity, he didn’t think he could bear it. When he opened his eyes again, the bleakness there matched the feeling in James’ heart. “I love you, too, Jamie. But it doesn’t change anything.”

Chapter 17

James stared at the door long after Smoke left. He couldn’t get over the overwhelming sense of wrongness that pervaded his soul. You can’t leave me, Pete. God, I hope that’s not what you’re thinking. Cause if you do…I think I’ll die.

He found things to keep himself busy, but every half hour or so, he would stand at the door. Waiting. Which was stupid, he told himself. He went to work. A full shift is a minimum of eight hours. They work ‘em like dogs down there, remember?

He recalled the way Smoke looked at himself, sad eyes calmly appraising his body. Smoke thought everyone looked at him that way. Like an empty husk without feelings. So much flesh for the asking. For the taking. Oh, Christ, don’t let him go home with somebody else tonight. I couldn’t stand that.

The phone rang shrilly in the silent apartment. James dove for it, almost upsetting the kitchen table. “Pete?”

But it wasn’t.

He went to bed right after that, unable to spend another minute pretending to watch TV. But going to bed wasn’t much better. The sheets smelled like Smoke. That shampoo he used, the one that was scented with jasmine and some exotic Australian herbs, made his long silky hair smell like this. He buried his face in Smoke’s pillow, clinging to it for dear life. He felt like he was on emotionally shaky ground. But he wouldn’t cry. He refused to give in to tears.

***

Smoke glanced blearily at the stocky man behind the bar. “One more.”

“I think you’ve had enough, man.”

“Not nearly enough,” Smoke muttered, staring into the bottom of his glass. He could still feel. He wasn’t stopping until he couldn’t feel anything at all.

Smoke never drank. But when he decided that drinking was the only cure for what ailed him, he went at it wholeheartedly. That was why he was still at work. Finding a new place just to get drunk seemed like a waste of time. So after his shift was over, he simply drifted into the bar.

The bartender sighed and traded looks with one of the other dancers. Nodding his head, the dancer approached Smoke. “Hey, you’re here late,” he called cheerfully.

Smoke struggled to focus his eyes on the man who joined him. Attractive in an overblown way. Too much eye make-up. Too much highlighting in his hair. Oh, yeah, and he was constantly on the prowl for a new lover. Probably because he couldn’t hold onto one long enough to forge a relationship.

“Go away, Mark.”

“Hey, I’m wounded. Now is that any way to talk to a buddy?”

Smoke glared at him fiercely before resuming the contemplation of his still-empty glass. Mark was anything if tenacious. “Trouble at home?”

Smoke’s head slumped forward, which might have been a prelude to passing out, but as it turned out, it was merely an emotional reaction to the word “home”. “I don’t have a home.”

“You want one? You got it. Hey, Smoke, you know you got an open invitation to stay with me any old time you like.”

There wasn’t enough liquor in the world to make Smoke go anywhere with Mark, and suddenly, he didn’t care if Mark knew that. “Why don’t you go bother someone who gives a shit?”

Mark clicked his tongue against his teeth. “Tsk, tsk, Smoke. That doesn’t sound like you. Come on…whoever he is, I can make you forget him.”

Smoke’s head snapped around, making him unexpectedly woozy, but it did little to diffuse the anger in his voice. “I don’t want to forget him, and I’m sure as hell not discussing him with you! Now get out of my face!”

Mark put his hand on Smoke’s shoulder, and Smoke snapped. Wrenching the other man’s hand off his shoulder, he grabbed him by the wrist and twisted hard enough to make Mark shriek. “You broke my freaking wrist, you bitch! You’re gonna pay for that, Smoke! Just see if you don’t!”

Smoke pulled at his jeans pockets, searching for his hard-earned tips, and once he’d found them, he threw bill after bill at Mark. “You want money? Knock yourself out!”

Pointing a finger at Smoke, Mark continued to rant and rave. “You’re dead here, Smoke! I mean it!”

Smoke turned and walked away, curiously steady again, as if the adrenaline rush had purged his system of all the alcohol he’d consumed. Without even glancing back over his shoulder, Smoke gave Mark the one-fingered salute.

It didn’t take long for him to reach the office. Stopping in the doorway just long enough to utter two words, “I quit”, Smoke ended his long career as an exotic dancer.

***

By morning, James was singing another tune. He woke clutching the pillow. When he realized that Smoke was definitely not there, he began to lose control of every emotion he’d been concealing so carefully from everyone.

He started to call friends. No one had seen him.

He started to panic in earnest. He called the police. Either they weren’t particularly interested in his problem or they were telling the truth when they said that Smoke hadn’t been missing long enough for them to enter the picture.

He hung up the phone, devastated. Everything was coming crashing down around him. At work. At home.

James poured himself a glass of orange juice, but he pushed it away moments later, unable to eat or drink anything. He had gotten dressed out of habit, more than anything else, or he would still be in bed. He didn’t know what to do. Or who to call next.

When the door opened with a loud creak, James’ head came up sharply, away from its resting place on his folded arms. “Pete?” he whispered hoarsely.

“Nah, it’s me, Davenport,” said the big man standing in James’ kitchen.

James blinked. He didn’t know Davenport as well as the others, but he was surprised to find him in his apartment this early in the morning.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, wondering if the children were all right.

“I should be asking you that, son.”

“What do you mean?” James replied, his guard automatically asserting itself.

“I think I’ve got something that belongs to you.”

A disheveled Smoke peeked bleary-eyed at James, safely shielded by Davenport’s body. “Jamie?”

“P-Pete?”

Davenport neatly stepped away, and the estranged couple swayed toward one another with frustrating slowness. Giving Smoke a gentle push in the small of his back, Davenport made certain the two men were close enough to touch. Perhaps now they could work out their differences. With an enigmatic smile on his lips, Davenport waved farewell.

James wrapped his arms tightly around his lover, pulling whole handfuls of Smoke’s hair against his tear-stained face. “I thought you were g-gone for g-good, Pete,” he whispered. “I thought—“

“That I was with somebody else,” Smoke finished for him. “I knew you would think that. There was even a part of me that wanted you to think that. I wanted you to be so jealous, you’d come after me.”

James kissed Smoke’s hair reverently. “It doesn’t matter. All that matters is that you came back.”

When the embrace finally ended, they stood there awkwardly, their former ease with each other a thing of the past. The silence was suddenly uncomfortable. “I…I don’t have a job anymore, Jamie.” Smoke sounded vaguely embarrassed, but he couldn’t say he regretted quitting. It was the one thing he managed to do right in a night that featured one complication after another.

James hung his head, and Smoke wondered if he was reconsidering the fervency with which he welcomed him back.

“Well, y’see, Pete, here’s the thing. I wanted to tell you last night, but everything drove to Hell in a fast car.” James raised his head, his deep blue eyes red-rimmed and openly tearful.

“I don’t have a job anymore either.”

Chapter 18

“I wish you’d told me that yesterday,” Smoke said, a sullen glare marring his otherwise beautiful face.

James looked startled. He thought everything was okay between them again. Smoke came back home. He wasn’t with someone else. He…

…hadn’t changed his mind about things at all.

“Pete—“

Smoke shrugged off his lover’s attempt at another embrace and began to walk away. “I need a shower.”

“Pete!” James all but shouted.

Smoke stopped where he stood.

“Don’t you care about me anymore?” James hated sounding weak, but he felt like he was fighting for his life here. He would beg if he had to. Endlessly.

Smoke regarded his lover impassively. “I’m tired. I didn’t sleep much last night.”

“Neither did I, Pete.”

Smoke made a half-turn away from James and James grabbed him by the arm. The scorching look that Smoke gave him terrified him. Where was the man he loved? The man he committed his life to five years ago?

“We took each other for better or worse, Pete. Or doesn’t that mean anything to you either?”

Smoke visibly shuddered. “If you’ll let me use the shower, I can be packed and out of here in a couple of hours.”

“That’s your answer? Pete! You’re leaving me? Can’t we talk about this?” James didn’t even realize that he was crying. It didn’t matter. Nothing would ever matter again if Smoke walked out on him.

Smoke walked into the bathroom, again surprisingly steady on his feet. He closed the door and leaned on it, his hand splayed across the center panel. As if he could somehow touch James that way. “I’m sorry, Jamie,” he whispered.

He stripped off his clothing as quickly as possible, taking great care to avoid the mirror, for fear of catching a glimpse of the man who could break James’ heart like this. “It’ll be better this way. I’m just holding you back, Jamie.”

He managed to hang on to the last thread of his control until the water hit him in the face full force. Closing his eyes, he cried bitterly, great sobs wracking his slender frame.

Outside the door, James succumbed to emotional exhaustion, sinking to his knees on the floor. Defeated.

***

It wasn’t that easy to leave. Smoke had a great deal of himself invested in James and their relationship.

When he came out of the bathroom, he didn’t see James. He slowly made his way to their bedroom, steeling himself for what it was going to feel like looking at the bed they slept in. Swallowing hard, he pushed open the door with one tremulous hand. All at once he lost every bit of color he had.

He had found James.

Asleep in their bed.

His arms wrapped around Smoke’s pillow.

His face still streaked with tears. Tears that had yet to dry.

He had to pack. He forced himself to look away from the man in the bed. As quietly as possible, he pulled things out of drawers, struggling to fit his life into a small suitcase that had seen better days.

When he was done, he put down the suitcase by the door and looked back over his shoulder. He knew he should go now, while he still could, but he had to say goodbye.

Sitting gingerly on the edge of the bed, he bent over his lover, his salt-tinged lips caressing James’ flushed cheek. Resisting the urge to wake him, he stood up, feeling as if he had suddenly grown old.

“Goodbye, Jamie. I love you,” he whispered.

As if in answer, James groaned in his sleep, fresh tears appearing at the corners of his eyes. He was dreaming. Of making love to Smoke for the last time. Smoke was hovering over him, his long black hair trailing across James’ collarbone, his light eyes suddenly dark and all too serious. He was leaving him. James whimpered in his sleep, suddenly restless, almost agitated.

Moments later, he woke. Screaming Smoke’s name. “Pete!”

He was already gone.

***

Smoke found an unexpected ally in Davenport. When he left the apartment, he had no idea where to go. But the older man had been kind when he very much needed a place to sleep for a few hours.

Davenport wisely didn’t ask any questions. He took a long look at Smoke’s pale, drawn face and he knew something bad had happened. “You want to stay at my place?”

He saw the protest on Smoke’s lips and headed him off before he could utter a word. “Just for a little while.” He looked at the younger man, his black eyes filled with compassion and empathy for his plight.

“You said something about needing to find a job. I can give you something to keep busy. It wouldn’t pay much. But I’ll throw in a place to stay and all the food you can eat. Though from the looks of you, you don’t eat enough to keep a bird alive.”

Despite his initial reservations, he asked, “What sort of job?”

“I was planning to shut down the kennels. My wife and I don’t have the time or the energy to run after ten dogs all day long. But if you think you can handle it, the job’s yours.”

It sounded simple enough. Smoke wondered if Davenport was kind enough to make up something, just to allay Smoke’s anxieties. But he quickly decided that although it was probably true, it was still a good idea.

Physical work would be good for him. It would keep him in shape. It would tire him out. Hopefully enough to let him sleep. It would keep him occupied with something other than James.

As much as it hurt to try to shape this new life without him, Smoke was convinced that he needed this separation, no matter how temporary or permanent it might be. He needed time and space to work things through. His mind and heart were hopelessly overwhelmed now.

“If I wanted to—I mean, needed to take time to go to school, would I be able to do that?” Smoke asked softly. I may not be good enough for Jamie right now, but I will be. Someday.

“Of course,” Davenport answered.

“Then it’s a deal.” Smoke held out his hand for Davenport to shake, and the older man smiled as he shook the younger man’s hand.

He needed a little looking after, this one. Derry would like that. So would the twins.

“Welcome to the family,” Davenport said.

***

Birkoff rolled over, ready to hit the alarm before it woke Declan. True to form, he caught it just in time.

Yawning expansively, he made his way into the bathroom, taking a moment to relieve himself before washing, shaving, and brushing his teeth. Several minutes later, he heard voices outside.

Poking his head around the corner, he called in a carrying whisper, “Emmy, who are you talking to?”

His toothbrush still wedged in his mouth, he stood there, dumbfounded that James was in his kitchen at this hour. “James?”

Drawing closer, he abruptly realized that something was clearly wrong. “Emmy, go downstairs, honey.”

Emmy rolled her eyes. “Daddy, I’m not a little kid, you know.”

“I know, sweetheart, I just want to talk to James privately. Okay?”

His daughter nodded, her bright red curls tossed side to side. “See you later, Daddy.”

Birkoff leaned over and gave her a kiss, waving when she got to the door.

She was no sooner through the door than Birkoff turned to James asking, “What on Earth happened to you? You look like shit.”

James tried to say something coherent, but the words wouldn’t come. His cobalt blue eyes welled up with tears as he revealed, “Pete left me.”

Birkoff frowned. “Run that by me again? It sounded just like you said Pete left you.”

“He did,” James replied huskily.

“Damn…I’m sorry, James. What happened?”

“He…I…” James’ throat closed up, and he couldn’t continue. “Sey….” He didn’t even know what he was asking for, but Birkoff felt a tug in the vicinity of his heart.

“Come here,” Birkoff commanded, wrapping the young man in a tight hug.

James literally fell apart at Birkoff’s touch, and the two men clung to each other, Sey absorbing James’ pain almost instinctively.

That was what Declan saw when he finally managed to crawl out of bed. “Sey! What the bloody hell are you doing? And with who?”

But luckily, James turned his head at that moment, allowing Declan to see how badly he was hurting. With a soft exclamation, Declan was there, between the two men, holding both of them, but preventing them from touching each other any more closely than that.

“You don’t look well, James,” Declan offered, once he had a chance to get a closer look at James.

With that, James laid his head on Declan’s shoulder and cried.

Stunned, Declan looked helplessly at Sey.

Sey leaned on Declan, cupping his hands over Declan’s ear to whisper without being overheard. Declan’s eyes widened when he heard the news.

There had to be something they could do to help the couple work out their problems and get back together again.

There had to be.

Chapter 19

Declan didn’t even need to hear the entire story behind the break-up of Smoke and James’ relationship before he acted. Slipping seamlessly into mission mode, he commanded, “Sey, sit him down and feed him.”

When James began to protest, albeit wearily, Declan put a hand up, signaling the effective end of discussion. “James. I’m not arguing with you. I’m telling you. You look like a strong wind would blow you away. Now sit down and let Sey feed you.”

At the curious look his lover gave him, Declan grinned sheepishly. “Okay, that came out wrong. Take him downstairs and let Emmy make him breakfast.”

James began to shake his head. “I don’t want to impose on you and your family, Declan.”

“Too late, James. You’re here now. You’re just going to have to deal with being fawned over and treated like visiting royalty,” Sey quipped cheerfully.

“I can’t believe you’re both being so nice to me. After what I—“

Sey glanced at the younger man sympathetically. “What did you do, James? Nothing anyone else might not have done. You had a good thing going, and you blew it.”

Declan winced. “Sey, honey, that doesn’t sound even remotely therapeutic.”

Sey shrugged, ignoring Declan. Crouching down to look James straight in the eye, Sey continued, “Sounds to me like you took Smoke for granted.”

James didn’t even try to avoid Sey’s critical gaze. “Yeah. I guess that was a big part of it.” He welcomed the numbness that crept over him, knowing the pain when he resurfaced would be ten times greater than before.

“Then you know how to fix things.”

James’ eyes unpredictably filled with tears again, the heartache dangerously close to overwhelming him again. “No, I don’t. I can’t.”

“Why?” Sey asked softly.

“I don’t even know where he is,” James uttered in a tortured whisper.

Declan sighed. “That’s my job. Don’t worry, James, I’ll find him.”

“And bring him back to me?” James asked, hope dangling from each word.

Declan didn’t want to lie. He couldn’t even promise that Smoke would talk to James, much less come back to him.

“I’ll try.”

Sey rubbed James’ shoulder affectionately. “Hey, you’ll feel better once you eat something.”

“I’ll throw up if I try to eat anything,” James confessed.

“You tried?”

James nodded silently.

“Then how about taking a little nap? I can take you home, and—“

“No, not there. Please. Not there.” James buried his face in his hands, though he had stopped crying.

“I can’t sleep in our bed. I just can’t. Not anymore.”

“You have to try, James. I’m sure Smoke doesn’t expect you to suffer like this.”

“He doesn’t love me anymore. Or he never would have left.”

Sey hated to point out that James simply wasn’t thinking straight. People who loved each other left one another all the time. “James, did you ever consider that there might be another explanation for Smoke leaving?”

That got James’ attention. He stared bleary-eyed at Sey. “Like what?”

“Like from what you’ve told me…Smoke had a hard time growing up. Even harder when he hit the streets.”

“Yeah.”

With a concerned look at Sey, Declan left. From what James was able to tell him, Smoke somehow connected with Davenport earlier. That gave him a fair idea of where to start looking for him.

“I don’t mean to pry, James, but…do you know if Smoke was ever abused?”

James choked back an inarticulate noise. “I-I always assumed that he was. But…we never really talked about it.”

“Until last night,” James said flatly. “We argued. He kept saying something about being dumb. He made it sound…like that’s what attracted me to him. So I could feel…better than he was.”

Sey’s dark eyes gleamed with empathy for the man not present. “Is it true?”

James nearly exploded, his anger catching Sey unaware. “How can you accuse me of that?”

Sey blinked, his face carefully schooled to show no visible reaction.

James glared at Sey until he could hold the look no longer, his eyes closing unbidden. “How could he think that? I love everything about him, everything he is.”

“Did you tell him that?” Sey asked gently.

James’ eyes flew open, the bleak depths fathomless and aching. “N-no. I never got the chance. He left.” At the last word, his voice cracked. Left. Left. Left. The word reverberated in James’ head until he thought he would go mad.

Sey took a deep breath. “Right now, I know you’re not going to want to hear this, James, but…it sounds like Smoke has some issues he needs to work through.” He reached out and braced the younger man’s shoulder with his hands. “That means you’re going to have to give him a little space.”

James looked horrified. “You mean…I should leave him alone?”

“For now. Yeah. That would probably be the best thing.”

“But what if he doesn’t believe that I love him? That I want him back? That I’d do anything, anything at all, if he’d just come back?”

“You mean what if he finds somebody else?”

“Yesss…” James whispered.

“I don’t think that’s what he wants, James. I think he wants you, but for some reason, he doesn’t think he’s good enough.” Sey shifted restlessly, a little uncomfortable himself giving advice in matters of the heart. What if he was wrong? But then he thought, no, I have to stop second-guessing myself, I know I’m right, I can feel it.

“When he’s ready to listen again…you’re going to have your work cut out for you, convincing him that he is good enough for you.”

“How?”

“You two never dated, huh?” He could tell from James’ stupefied look that he was right. “You fell right into a serious relationship. I’m not saying you didn’t love each other. That much is obvious. But maybe what’s missing…is that sense of…I dunno…for lack of a better word…courtship.”

“Like bring him flowers and stuff?”

Sey smiled patiently. “If that’s what he likes. You have to find out what he needs and give it to him.”

“I don’t have any money. I don’t even have a freaking job anymore.”

“You’re missing the point, James. This isn’t about money. It’s about saying how much you value him in your life, and how much you want to keep him there.”

Comprehension slowly dawned in the younger man’s intense blue eyes. His gaze fell to Sey’s hands suddenly, noting the glint of silver on the left one. “You and Declan exchanged commitment rings.”

Sey nodded. “Yes. We needed…” He smiled again, remembering that long ago Christmas Eve. “No, I needed to let him know how serious I was about him.”

“And the bracelet? That’s beautiful.”

“That’s more recent. Sort of an affirmation. That came from him.” From the look on Sey’s face, it meant everything.

“I think I’m beginning to understand.”

“I’m glad.” Pause. “You’re going to get through this, you know.”

“You think so?” James asked hopefully.

“Hey, you’re lucky. Not everybody gets a second chance.”

James stood up unsteadily, his hands nervously plucking at his clothing. “I should get home. In case…he calls.” James gave Sey a long, hesitant look. “You think he’ll call?”

“I would.”

“Thanks,” James said breathlessly, feeling like all of the air in the room had been sucked out. The thought of going home made him anxious. What if? What if?

What if this wasn’t an ending at all, but a beginning instead?

Chapter 20

“James?”

James paused at the door, turning to face Sey, a curious look on his face.

“Do you need some money? I know things are a bit rough right now—“

James almost backed up against the door, automatically protesting the offer. “I’ll manage.” Even if I have to eat peanut butter everyday. I’m not taking handouts. That’s not me.

“James….” Sey’s tone changed from sympathetic to exasperated. “You need to get over that. You could starve to death feeding your pride,” he pointed out wisely.

James merely looked discomfited.

“Did you talk to Michael? He’s so busy, it probably never even occurred to him that with all of the kids in school, you don’t have a job anymore.”

“What can he do?” James said huskily. All of that crying had ruined his voice.

An incredulous look passed over Sey’s handsome face. “You must be kidding. Michael’s…well, Michael.”

Never had a truer statement been uttered.

***

By the time he arrived at the apartment, James was feeling slightly more optimistic. It seemed that his past was just that now…his past. On Michael’s say-so alone, the University board voted to give James an entry-level position as an instructor. Oh, he wasn’t fooling himself. He knew he’d be doing everyone else’s scut work. But that didn’t faze him one bit. It was an opportunity. Like Sey said, he was getting a second chance.

When Michael got off the phone, he had laughed softly, telling James that from now on, whenever he wanted a day off, he would call James to take his classes. James literally bounced up and down, rocking back and forth on his heels, his manner not unlike Sasha’s when he had good news.

He couldn’t seem to stop thanking Michael until Michael brought all speech to an end with an affectionate handclasp, saying, “That’s what friends are for.”

James tossed his keys onto the kitchen table, curling a lip in disgust at the sight of the long-forgotten orange juice, now grown warm and vaguely unappealing.

Pulling his jacket off, he sank down into a chair at the table. A quick glance at the answering machine told him that no one had called. Why hadn’t Smoke called? Didn’t he know James would be worried? Wondering where he was? If he was safe?

***

Smoke pulled his hair back into a ponytail, fixing it there with a leather clasp. This was hot work, despite the chill in the autumn air. Six of the dogs were adults, a mix of males and females. Four of the dogs were puppies, surprisingly all female. All of them were jumping and barking and…well, pooping. Sometimes at an alarming rate. But that was to be expected. Babies did that.

He crouched down, offering his fingers to one of the puppies. She sniffed a few times before bounding away in zigzag puppy style. Smoke smiled. He could grow to like this.

Oh, not the cleaning up part. That wasn’t his favorite part. But it didn’t bother him either. No, the part he liked was discovering that he had an affinity for animals. He never knew that about himself. It was something of a revelation. He didn’t mean to go all mystical or anything, but it was as if the animals were drawn to him, and vice versa.

Davenport came around the corner of the dog run, a pleasant smile on his face at the sight of Smoke in the midst of puppyland. The younger man seemed genuinely happy taking care of the dogs. “Hey, you. Working hard or hardly working?”

Smoke’s head came up, a beatific smile in place, and Davenport was stunned by the beauty there. When Smoke was upset, near tears, that beauty had stayed hidden. But now…Davenport was taken aback. It wasn’t just a physical thing, either, he concluded. It was a mixture of physical and emotional elements that somehow combined to make Smoke one very charismatic young man.

“I love this. Thank you for giving me…all this.” Smoke seemed almost at a loss for words. It really meant that much to the kid. Damn. He’d been wounded by someone, someone other than James, a long time ago. That much Davenport had managed to pry out of the reticent young man before he refused to say anything more. And somehow that wounding had killed something in him. Killed the ability to find joy in the simplest things. Like this.

But if Smoke was working some kind of magic on the animals, it seemed as though the reverse was true as well. The animals with their responsive tailwagging and yips and soulful looks were healing Smoke.

“It’s nice, you know?” Smoke said shyly.

“Yeah. Dogs don’t fake it. They either love you or they hate you. But they sure let you know it.”

A somber look crossed Smoke’s face, and Davenport was sorry to see that, wondering if he’d brought it there. “What’s wrong? Would you like to talk about it?”

Smoke shook his head without speaking. All of his earlier enthusiasm faded as the memory of breaking up with James came flooding back.

“Smoke….” The older man touched Smoke’s shoulder, and the younger man flinched.

“Jesus, Smoke. Did he hit you? Did James hit you? Is that why you left him?”

Alarm ran rampant through Smoke’s slender frame, turning his body rigid and making him incapable of moving. “No,” he gasped out. “He would never touch me like that. He lo—“

“He loved you. Is that what you were going to say?” Davenport’s voice was the essence of kindness itself.

Past tense. He loved me. Oh, God. Smoke’s light eyes darkened with pain, and he had no idea how long he stood there, staring at the ground, trying not to think or feel anything.

He was saved from having to answer Davenport by the arrival of Declan.

Chapter 21

Declan approached Smoke the way he would an unknown target. On the way over to Davenport’s house, he repeatedly asked himself whose side he was on, eventually concluding that it was a draw. If he had to choose, he would say James, but only by virtue of knowing him for scant seconds longer.

“Smoke.”

The man in question immediately backed up, as if he were ready to bolt. “I’m not going back with you.”

“That’s not why I came.”

“Then why did you? It’s not even your fight.”

Declan shrugged. “I don’t care what drove you apart. Only what it’ll take to get you back together again.”

Smoke set his mouth tightly, but it was hard to tell if he was angry or if he was trying not to cry. “I need time to work things out,” he began.

Declan nodded. “I agree. I’m not here to argue that point.”

“Then I don’t understand.” The younger man looked genuinely confused. From what Declan could remember, Smoke was not one for playing games. According to James, his “Pete” didn’t have a devious bone in his body.

“Smoke…you must know how badly you hurt James.”

“That’s between us! How can you come here and—and—dammit, why don’t you just leave me alone?” That was when Declan saw how badly James hurt Smoke. It wasn’t one-sided at all.

Declan’s voice was soft and low, even compelling in a way, forcing Smoke to listen. “You can have all the time and space that you need, boyo. Just do me one favor. Call James and let him know where you are.”

Smoke shook his head mutely.

“Is it that you can’t talk to him, or that you won’t?”

Smoke looked absolutely terrified. “I-I c-can’t.”

“What are you afraid of?”

“If I talk to him, I’ll go back. Without ever changing a thing.”

“Are you sure? It would help if you could at least talk to James.”

“I can’t,” Smoke whispered.

“Don’t you love him anymore then?”

“Don’t you see how much I love him?” Smoke turned away, a shiver working its way through his slender body.

“Then why aren’t you together?”

Smoke started to answer, and then apparently thought better of it. “I promise I’ll call him,” he said in a low voice.

“Today.”

He nodded, his fingers twisting and twining and betraying his inner anxiety in a way that mere words could not.

“Smoke.” Declan reached out and touched him on the arm. This time, Smoke was prepared and he didn’t jump away. But Declan could sense his uneasiness.

“I know where you’re coming from.” Smoke raised startled eyes to Declan’s. “I do. I’ve been there. And no, I don’t bloody well want to talk about it either.” Pause. “But I will…if it’ll help you.”

But Smoke couldn’t take that step yet. It was way too soon. So he settled for a faint smile and a noncommittal look.

After a long while, Declan thought about giving up, but Smoke seemed close to deciding something. So he waited.

“Maybe there is something you could do for me?”

Declan smiled encouragingly.

“I want to go back to school. Could you help me with that?”

“Now that’s something I can do.”

***

James fell asleep with his head down on the kitchen table. He had promised Sey that he would sleep. He just hadn’t said where. He still couldn’t bring himself to go back to the bedroom he shared with Smoke.

The phone hadn’t rung all day. James gave up hoping that Smoke would call, eventually succumbing to fatigue.

When the phone finally did ring, James missed it. He groped for the receiver, knocking it off the hook and onto the floor. By the time he managed to grasp the phone in hands made clumsy by sleep, whoever it was had hung up.

Reluctantly getting up, James stretched and made his way into the bathroom for a much-needed shower. He was just coming out of the bathroom, one towel wrapped about his waist, another towel in his hands, drying his hair, when he realized that the light on the answering machine was flashing.

He’d missed another phone call?

A frown marring his otherwise smooth forehead, James pressed the button. As much as he’d anticipated it, the sound of Smoke’s voice, husky with unshed tears, still took James by surprise.

“Jamie?”

“I guess you’re not home.” Smoke sounded simultaneously disappointed and relieved.

“Declan wanted me to tell you where I am.” Oh? You wouldn’t have called me otherwise? Thanks a lot.

“I’m staying with Davenport. Working with the dogs.” That was interesting. About the dogs, not Davenport. James continued to dry his hair, wondering idly if he was beginning to get used to the idea that Smoke was somewhere else. Somewhere he wasn’t. Then it hit him.

“There was something else, Jamie. I…” There was a lot of muttered cursing, some of it in French, which James couldn’t quite make out.

“Try not to hate me too much. I miss you, Jamie…and I…I do love you.” A barely-concealed sniffle interrupted the next part of the message.

Suddenly there was nothing but the sound of a dial tone. James stood there, rooted to the spot, unable to move, tears coursing silently down his cheeks. “Pete…” he whispered, his lower lip trembling.

“Please come back.”

***

For the next few weeks, the pattern was set. Smoke would call, but always when James was out. James could have called him, but he knew he wouldn’t take his calls. So James would sit at the kitchen table and listen to Smoke’s messages, over and over again, like an endless playlist of inspirational poetry.

Sometimes he cried silently. Sometimes it was all he could do not to get into the car and drive to Davenport’s. And sometimes he wondered if Smoke knew what all this was doing to him.

He was grateful for his new job. Thanks to Michael, he had already started working at the University. Prepping for the classes he would soon take over from an overworked faculty. Concentrating on doing a good job helped him get through the days, but it did nothing for the nights.

Nights were the worst. Alone at home. No interest in watching TV. No interest in going out. What friends he’d once had grew tired of asking him to come out with them. But that was nothing compared to the nightmares he had whenever he slept in “their” bed. There wasn’t much room on the couch in what passed for a living room, but it was the only place that James felt safe enough to sleep.

Sey had given James the rudimentary tools with which to win back Smoke’s trust. But James despaired of having to wait much longer. What if Smoke never let him make it up to him? How could he court him when they were never in the same place anymore?

Suddenly James decided that he couldn’t wait for Smoke to realize that they belonged together, no matter what mistakes either of them had made or would make in the future. No, he had to convince him. Beyond a shadow of a doubt.

He went to work with a renewed sense of hope in his heart. He would see Smoke today; he would tell him, no, show him how much he needed him. But it didn’t happen exactly the way he thought it would.

***

“You’re taking my freshman English course this morning, James. I hope you don’t mind,” Michael said. He wanted the morning off because he planned to surprise Nikita with a three-day weekend at the Chateau.

“Not at all, Michael,” James readily agreed, stuffing an extra copy of Canterbury Tales in his satchel.

James smiled as he headed in the direction of Michael’s lecture hall. Once he might have been seriously intimidated by the thought of teaching anything to 250 plus students. Now he felt like he could handle anything.

Anything, that is, that didn’t include facing his estranged lover in the first row of the class.

“Smoke?” James gasped as what was left of his color disappeared.

Chapter 22

“You must have me mixed up with someone else,” said the young man sitting in the first row of the lecture hall. He crossed his jeans-clad legs and folded back the cover of his spiral notebook, looking every inch the attentive student.

James literally backed up into the podium, nearly upsetting it in the process. Flustered, he crept behind the podium, drawing on all his inner reserves to regain his natural poise. He was just starting to read the class roster when he heard it. Whispering, loud enough to carry to where he stood, from the front row.

“You know the sub?” asked the boy next to Smoke.

“No, we’ve never met before,” said Smoke, looking straight at James.

When James heard his former lover deny knowing him, something inside him snapped. Two could play that game.

How he got through the lecture he didn’t know. His mind kept wandering back to where Smoke sat, calmly taking notes.

At the end of the lecture, he found himself almost overjoyed to dismiss the class. At last, at last he could get to the bottom of this mystery that confronted him. And he would, make no mistake about it.

The lecture hall was nearly empty by the time Smoke got to his feet, slowly putting on his black leather jacket. He was just lifting his hair up so that it didn’t go inside his collar when he saw James approach.

“What the hell are you doing here, Smoke?”

Smoke continued to adjust his clothing, but he never took his light blue-gray eyes off James. “I told you. There is no one here named Smoke.”

“Then who the hell are you?” James growled, on the verge of losing control.

“Just Pete,” Smoke said quietly.

Hurt blossomed in James’ deep blue eyes. “You can’t be. Pete belongs to me.”

Smoke took a halting step forward and stopped. “Pete still belongs to you, Jamie.”

“Does he?” James hated the quaver in his voice, but he couldn’t help it.

Suddenly Declan and Sey appeared from somewhere behind James. And neither of them was too happy, by the look of them.

“Cool it, Shakespeare! I’ll get to you in a moment!” Declan said to James, pointing his finger at the younger man in dismay.

“Christ! Can’t you even follow directions?” Declan said, addressing no one in particular.

James and Smoke turned as one to face Declan. Declan was shaking his head, completely astonished at how two people who loved each other so much could get things so terribly wrong.

“What did I tell you, Smoke?”

All at once Smoke looked hesitant. “That I should take all the time and space that I needed to work through things.”

“All the time and space, yes! A bloody lifetime, no! This man’s been waiting for you for weeks now, while you torture him to death, leaving cryptic messages on the answering machine!” Smoke couldn’t help but back up. He could feel Declan invading his space, even though physically, Declan hadn’t moved an inch.

“I never meant for you to make James wait while you carved out a whole new life for yourself, Smoke! One that doesn’t seem to have a place in it for James!”

At a loss for words, Smoke merely stared at his former benefactor.

Sey gave the younger man a compassionate glance before fixing his own gaze on James. “And you! What did I tell you, James?”

James could feel himself color. “That I should find out what Smoke wanted and give it to him. That I should court him. Show him how much he means to me.”

Smoke dropped the spiral notebook he was holding with a loud clatter. To say he was shocked would be an understatement.

“Well, what are you waiting for? An engraved invitation? If we left it to you two, you’d both be old and gray before you ever spoke face to face again!”

James hung his head. “I thought he knew how I felt,” he whispered.

Sey cocked his head, straining to hear what James said. “What’s that? You were waiting for Smoke to read your mind, maybe?”

Now both men looked completely miserable. James glanced quickly at Smoke before asking Sey, “Isn’t there some way to fix this?”

Sey nodded. “I’ve got a great idea.” He looked at Declan, who gave his own lover a bemused smile, seemingly content to let Sey run the show now.

Taking each man by the hand, he made them face one another. “Now look at each other.” When both of them had difficulty making eye contact, Sey groaned, “Oh, come on, guys, you can do better than that. You’ve been married for five years, for Christ’s sake. Act like it.”

Smoke piped up, “But won’t it just complicate things, if we--?”

“If you what? Touch each other? Shit, Smoke. You don’t think things are freaking complicated now?”

“Look at each other,” he commanded.

It took several seconds, but eventually they complied. “Greatttt…” Sey drawled. Declan chuckled softly, admiring his lover’s handiwork.

Folding his arms in front of him, Sey surveyed the still-estranged couple. “You’re damn lucky. Most people don’t get another shot once they blow something this badly.”

Indicating Smoke, Sey told James, “Jamie, I’d like you to meet Pete. Say hi to Pete.”

“Hi, Pete,” James said quite breathlessly.

Gesturing at James, Sey introduced the other man. “And Pete…this is Jamie. Say hi.”

“Hi, Jamie,” Smoke said, unable to take his eyes off James’ face.

“Shake hands.”

That took both men by surprise. But one cross look from Sey and it was accomplished.

“See? That wasn’t so bad, was it? You’ve just met. All over again. Now kiss each other.”

Casting a startled glance at Sey, James stammered, “I d-don’t th-think I can d-do that, Sey.”

“Who’s in charge, me or you? And if you say “you”, you can just go back to fighting with each other and pining away for the next hundred years for all I care.”

Smoke bit his lip before leaning over and kissing James on the cheek. James turned his head, as quick as that, and their mouths met, for the first time in weeks. Smoke broke away, panting, as James rested his forehead on Smoke’s.

“Oh, Pete…” he said in a fervent whisper, his hands cradling Smoke’s beloved face.

Suddenly raising his eyes to meet Smoke’s, James let all of the emotion he’d so carefully controlled until now shine through. “I’m sorry I took you for granted. I’m sorry if I did anything that made you feel less of a person than me. I’m—“

Smoke cut off his next sentence with another kiss, this time quite deliberately on the mouth. When he drew back, he let his fingertips trace their way over James’ lips, desperate to lay claim to the rest of him, as soon as possible.

Sey smiled up at Declan. “So how’d I do? Think it’s safe to leave them alone?”

Declan pulled Sey into a snug embrace, his mouth tugging at the emerald earring set in Sey’s earlobe. “If they don’t know how to proceed from here, they’re hopeless.”

Sey rested within Declan’s arms quite contentedly for several moments before saying, “Oh, yeah. James?”

James reluctantly turned his attention to Sey, his arms tightly wrapped around Smoke. “Yes, Sey?”

“When you’re ready to go shopping…give me a call.” Sey winked, giving his earring a tug for special emphasis.

A sensual smile slowly spread across James’ face. “Gotcha.”

“What’s that about?” Smoke whispered against James’ ear.

With that, James brought Smoke’s left hand to his mouth and placed a tender, lingering kiss there. “Something I should have done a long time ago.”

Chapter 23

“I have another class this afternoon, Pete,” James said, absently stroking his lover’s hair. He bent close and kissed him. It was a sweet, gentle kiss. Since their reunion, they seemed incapable of treating each other with anything but kindness.

“So do I,” Smoke said softly.

“We need to talk.”

“I know.”

James groaned against Smoke’s neck. “Only thing is, right now all I want to do is make love to you.”

Smoke smiled faintly. “Right now I’d let you, too.”

“Now you tell me,” James said, chuckling. Suddenly serious, he caressed Smoke’s cheek with his fingertips as he stared intently into his light blue-gray eyes. “Pete…I left something out before.”

Smoke gazed raptly at James, now more certain than ever that their once-separate paths were destined to be one. “You already told me everything I needed to know, Jamie.”

James couldn’t disagree with that, not now that Smoke was half-lying in his arms, in full view of anyone who chose to visit the instructors’ lounge at that moment. “These past few weeks, Pete….”

Smoke frowned and placed a finger across James’ mouth. “Don’t, Jamie. It wasn’t just you. It was both of us.”

“No question. It’s just that—I learned something. I learned what it felt like…to be without you.” His voice broke, and Smoke leaned forward to nuzzle the tense line of his jaw.

“I don’t know how much longer I could have—“ James turned his face away, but Smoke pulled him back with one hand. “Ssh, ssh, my love. I won’t ever leave you again.”

James visibly trembled under Smoke’s gentle petting. “I love you, Pete. I wish you knew how much.”

Smoke pulled James’ head against his chest and kissed his hair. “I do, Jamie. I do.”

James closed his eyes and snuggled closer. Smoke rested his chin on top of James’ head, feeling at peace for the first time in a long time. “When we get home, I’m going to make love to you.”

Smoke smiled at the fervor in James’ voice. “What happened to taking me out to dinner? Maybe a movie?”

James jerked his head away from Smoke’s body. “You want to go out?”

“I want whatever you want.”

Convinced that Smoke was serious, James put his head back where it was, a long strand of Smoke’s silky black hair tickling his nose. “Fair enough.” He smiled, inhaling what he considered the essence of Smoke. “I’ll take you to dinner and show you off…and then, we’ll make love.”

Suddenly James frowned. There was only one problem with that fantasy. Going home meant returning to the apartment…and the bed they once shared. A chill ran up and down the length of James’ spine. He couldn’t explain it, but the thought of getting back into that bed, that place he now associated only with pain and heartache and nightmare, overwhelmed him.

Smoke felt, rather than saw, the frown. “Jamie?”

Somehow, in stammered bits and pieces, James managed to explain his feelings to Smoke.

Smoke raised an eyebrow. “We could always get a new bed.”

“Or….”

“Jamie, you want to leave the apartment?”

James pulled Smoke closer, kissing him tenderly. “I want to be wherever you are, Pete.”

“You’d really move in with me at Davenport’s?”

“If that’s where you are, yeah.”

All at once they were giggling like a couple of children embarking on a new adventure. “Do you have to share space with the dogs?”

“Of course. But I like it.”

“Christ, Pete, you turned into Dr. Dolittle when I wasn’t looking.”

“Something like that.”

Their laughter faded away slowly as they looked into one another’s eyes again. “I love you, Jamie.”

“I love you, too, Pete.”

There was a long pause, filled with ardent kisses and soft caresses, broken finally by a deep groan. “I’ll share the damn bedroom with ‘em, but I’m not giving you up to anyone. Not even a dog.”

Smoke chuckled, and the sound was balm to James’ senses. Things had finally turned around.

Chapter 24—NC-17

Smoke made it as far as the door before James tackled him. Pinning his lover’s body against the wall next to the door of the instructor’s lounge, James wound his hands through Smoke’s hair, kissing his mouth over and over, his rapacious tongue thrusting more and more intimately each time.

Gasping for breath, Smoke moved his head marginally, unable to believe this was the same man he’d been married to for five years. “Jamie! I think you’re trying to kill me!”

James licked Smoke’s mouth, teasing and tugging at his full lower lip until he looked dangerously sensual. “Oh, I want you very much alive, Pete,” he growled, his straight white teeth nipping gently at Smoke’s jawline.

“You’re never going to feel taken for granted again, Pete. I swear. I’m going to make sure you know how much I love you. All the time.”

“All the time?” Smoke squeaked, feeling the pressure of James’ rock-hard erection pressing against the vee of his legs. “You don’t have to show me all the time,” he added weakly.

James all but swallowed Smoke’s earlobe, and Smoke nearly fainted at the wave of pleasure that crested over him. James began to chuckle as he wedged his knee between Smoke’s legs, gently pushing against Smoke’s growing arousal there. “I love you, I need you, and I don’t think I can wait until we get to wherever we’re going to call home to make love to you,” he whispered urgently into Smoke’s mouth.

“Mmm…Jamie, I hate to say no, but we both have class. I don’t want to get off to a bad start here.”

“Dammit, Pete, I hate it when you can think straight while I’m getting positively carried away!”

Smoke gave James a brilliant smile. “Jamie, I think somehow we must have switched roles. That used to be my line.”

James rested his forehead against Smoke’s, trying to get his breathing, not to mention his runaway libido, back under some semblance of control. Nuzzling his lover’s mouth, James said, “I love you, Pete, but I wish to hell you weren’t right.”

James caressed Smoke’s face, observing how his face lit up so brilliantly when he looked at him. “I want to move in with you tonight, Pete. I don’t want us to be apart one more second than we have to.”

Smoke’s light eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled. “Okay.”

“After class, could you meet me back here? I want to take you shopping…for something special, Pete,” James said almost shyly.

Smoke nodded, his hands playing with James’ hair. James wore it short, but Smoke liked the feel of it, like brushed velvet, against his fingertips.

“I’ll be here.”

***

The jeweler kept glancing at the couple, as if that might hurry them along with their purchase. But James, preoccupied with finding just the right item, didn’t even notice. “Pete, do you like this one?”

Before Smoke could answer, the jeweler interrupted. “Perhaps I could help?”

“Perhaps you could back off, mate,” said James, suddenly sounding like the Aussie he really was. It was an easy thing to miss. James was sometimes too good at blending with the resident culture.

The jeweler merely raised an imperious eyebrow. “Was there something in particular that you were searching for?”

James started to snap off a reply, but Smoke pulled on his arm. “Come on, Jamie, let it go.”

James looked stricken. “I wanted you to have something really nice, Pete. Please….”

“We can’t afford it anyway, Jamie.” Smoke shook his head apologetically at the old man who waited behind the counter. “Sorry to waste your time.”

To their utter amazement, the jeweler said, “You look like a nice couple. Is this for an anniversary?”

Smoke’s arm crept around James’ waist, holding him against his body. His stance looked almost protective. In fact, it was. So much of Smoke’s experience was tinged with bitterness and distrust.

But James dearly wanted something more than a trinket to celebrate his renewed commitment to Smoke. “Well, yeah, something like that,” he answered, unable to believe that it could have escaped the jeweler’s notice that they were gay.

The jeweler didn’t even pretend to misunderstand. “How long have you two been together?”

“Five years,” Smoke replied softly.

He smiled at Smoke. “I have something very special hidden away for times like these. I hope you like silver,” he said, as he turned away from the two men.

Smoke glanced hopefully at the man he loved. James shrugged, but Smoke leaned close, his lips grazing his lover’s cheek. “Is it okay if we at least look, Jamie?”

The jeweler came back to the counter holding an intricately worked fine silver link chain. Proudly offering it to Smoke, the jeweler beamed. “Go ahead, look at it.”

It wasn’t long. It was possibly crafted more as a choker, if only in that it clung snugly to one’s neck. At the end of its length was a small silver locket shaped like a heart. It appeared to be solid until one opened it up. Inside there was room for a tiny picture.

“Would you like to try it on? See how it looks? I think it would look pretty against your skin.”

James flushed, not sure if he wanted the jeweler to be quite that understanding. He wanted to be the only one who appreciated Smoke that way. He felt a surge of possessiveness so intense, it was all he could do to keep his hands off Smoke.

Noting the jealous glint in James’ eye, the jeweler wisely asked him, “Would you prefer to put it on him?”

James looked distinctly discomfited. He would. He would love to put the chain around Smoke’s neck. Suddenly he had a flash of Smoke, lying on his back, waiting for him, in their bed. Wearing nothing but that damn chain around his neck.

Chewing on his lip, James reached out for the chain with trembling fingers. Before he took it, though, he said, “It looks way too expensive. Sorry we put you to all that trouble.”

The jeweler’s brows arched upwards in a moue of surprise. “No, no, no, you don’t understand. This is a special piece.”

“Yeah, I think it’s freaking beautiful. We just--*I* just can’t afford something like that.” His heart broke at the look on Smoke’s face. It was painfully obvious that Smoke had fallen in love with the chain and its heart-shaped locket. Right now, he was undoubtedly convinced that James didn’t think he was worth whatever it cost. What could he do?

The jeweler gently clasped James’ arm, beckoning him to move closer. “You don’t understand. I can give you a great price.” At James’ puzzled look, the man continued softly, acting as if he didn’t want Smoke to overhear what he was saying. “I haven’t been able to sell it. No one’ll take it.”

That took James aback. “Why?”

The older man glanced sympathetically at Smoke and cupped his hands over James’ ear, whispering, “It’s made so that once you put it on…it won’t come off. Guess no one believes in forever these days.”

“I do,” James shocked himself by admitting to a perfect stranger. “We’ll take it.”

***

True to his word, James took Smoke out to dinner, but neither man showed more than cursory interest in the food, picking over it without enthusiasm.

Suddenly grinning like a fool, James asked, “Would you hate me if I said, I don’t even know what I’m eating?”

Smoke rested his chin in his hands, studying his partner. His long black hair swung side to side as he shook his head.

“This is sheer torture, Pete. Being this close to you, but not being able to touch you…or kiss you…or…Christ, what are we doing here, sweetheart?”

At the sound of the endearment, Smoke hid his face against his hands for a moment. “Ja-mie….”

“Am I making you blush, Pete? God, I want to get closer to you—“

“Let’s go home, Jamie.” Smoke almost cried to think he might never have been able to utter those words again if…. No matter. No sense worrying about might-have-been’s.

***

His arms wrapped around Smoke, James let him lead the way to their new home. “We can always pick up my stuff over the weekend.”

Smoke nodded. “You’re sure you don’t mind sharing space on the kennel side of the property?”

“Pete, if you lived on the freaking moon, I would find a way to be there with you. Does that answer your question?”

They chuckled companionably. Pause. “You were kidding about sleeping with the dogs, though, right?”

“Come see…” Smoke invited, opening the door to his side of the sprawling house that the Davenports had acquired.

“Wow,” was all that James could say a moment later.

“They gave you all this space? In return for taking care of the dogs?”

Smoke shrugged. “Davenport said it was worth it.”

“So…do you like it?” he asked, indicating the living room, far larger than anything they had shared at the apartment.

“I love it.” James wrapped his arms around Smoke’s waist, holding him tightly against his body. “God, you feel good, Pete.”

Smoke leaned over James, his mouth seeking his cheek, his hairline, and finally, his ear. “Gonna feel a whole lot better soon, Jamie.”

“Where’s the bedroom?” James whispered.

Smoke’s throaty chuckle vibrated against James’ face, and the younger man stole a fervent kiss a moment later. James slid his hands inside the back of Smoke’s jeans, savoring the touch of bare skin beneath his fingers.

“Mmm…that way,” Smoke inclined his head in an easterly direction.

By the time they made their way to the bedroom, James was impatient enough to kick the door shut with one booted foot. He leaned on Smoke, his hands automatically wandering into old familiar places. James’ hand skittered up the length of Smoke’s spine as they kissed one more time. “I love you, Pete.”

Slowly they undressed each other, somehow sensing this was a moment unlike any other. “Wait…” Smoke said, tearing his mouth away from his lover’s. Now he was like a vision out of James’ fantasy, wearing nothing but a smile and the chain James had given him.

James’ face flooded with happiness at the sight. It was more than just desire. He loved Pete, and he knew he would love Pete forever. That’s what made the forever clasp on the chain so wonderful.

Lifting his hair off his neck, Smoke said, “I want you to take off the chain, Jamie. That way I can’t lose it in the bed.”

“Oh, it can’t come off, Pete.”

“Everything comes off, Jamie. Now come over here.”

James ignored the sultry pout of Smoke’s mouth and grinned. “No, it really doesn’t come off, Pete.”

Smoke abruptly let go of his hair, and it fanned out around his face like a silken curtain fashioned from the midnight sky. “It doesn’t?”

“That’s how come we got it so cheap.”

James was so busy feeling triumphant, he didn’t immediately notice how Smoke’s face clouded over. “It was cheap? You bought me something broken?”

“Noooo, sweetheart—“

“Don’t sweetheart me, you son of a bitch.” Smoke turned his back on James, stalking to the other side of the room, to gaze sightlessly out the window. Tears filled his light blue-gray eyes, but he refused to let them fall. There had been too many tears.

James walked up behind Smoke, wrapping his arms around his chest, pulling him against his body. “You don’t understand, Pete.”

“Then make me understand, Jamie,” Smoke whispered brokenly, an errant tear trickling silently down his cheek to land on James’ hand.

“Oh, God, Pete, you’re crying.” Aghast at his mistake, James closed his eyes and lay his head on Smoke’s shoulder.

“It’s the way it was made, Pete. For people like us. Who still believe in forever.”

Turning the man in his arms, James gently brushed the tears away. “*That’s* why it never comes off, Pete. Cause there’s no reason. We’re always going to be together, you and me. Forever.”

“Oh…” Smoke made a choked little sound deep in his throat before he kissed James.

Oh.

Chapter 25

Michael tossed and turned restlessly in bed, his arms and legs flailing, almost as if they sought to find and connect with the familiar body at his side. But Nikita wasn’t there.

He woke with a start. Instantly aware. With none of that lag time that other people might experience when they first awakened from sleep.

“Kita? Kita!”

Suddenly frantic to know where she was, Michael dove out of bed, his feet hitting the carpet with a soft thump. “Kita?” His voice took on a darker, more haunted tone, as he saw that his wife was indeed nowhere to be seen.

“Kita!” he cried.

Nikita flung open the bathroom door and stood there framed in the doorway for several seconds, her pale blue eyes slowly adjusting to the change in light. “Michael? What’s wrong?”

He didn’t answer. He simply wrapped his arms around her as tightly as he could, tears racing fast and furious down his cheeks as he buried his face in her hair. “I thought I’d lost you.”

Nikita didn’t find the echoes of the past that flowed around the two of them disturbing. Instead, she welcomed them, embraced them, made them hers again, even as Michael was hers.

“I’ve got you now, love, and I’m never going to let go.” She kissed his cheek, feeling the feverish heat suffusing his face. A few wet tendrils curled limply over his forehead. Nikita reached up with one hand and gently brushed them off his face.

A soft inarticulate noise made its way from between Michael’s parched lips.

“What happened? Are you sick?”

“Yes…no…not really,” he finally managed to say.

She pushed him back carefully, so that she could look at his face more closely, and he went, albeit reluctantly, clearly unwilling to relinquish his almost painfully-tight hold on her.

“Michael? I haven’t seen you this upset in a long time.” She prompted him to tell her what he felt, knowing that sometimes, he just couldn’t, no matter how much he wanted to.

“It’s all right. It’s fading now. It’s…it’s going away.”

“What’s going away?”

“The dream. Nightmare.”

Her eyes widened in sudden comprehension. “Oh, Michael. Would it help to talk about it?”

He closed his eyes and shook his head vigorously, a few final tears trickling slowly down his face. “I don’t want to remember it. I don’t want to give it that much power over me.”

“It was that bad? Michael, you need to tell me. Tell me now.”

“Please….”

“Are you afraid if you talk about it…it might actually come true?”

His hands fisted in her long blonde hair, he laid his head on her shoulder, trying to control something that even now tore at his insides, making him wretched with grief. “I don’t think I can do it justice if I try to describe it, doucette,” he whispered, choking back this amorphous feeling that hung over him like a tenacious black cloud.

“Just—let me hold you, Kita.”

“Always.”

Always. Whatever it was, Nikita felt the shiver that ran through Michael at the sound of that word. Whatever it was, it had scared Michael, badly enough that it shook his belief in forever.

***

Birkoff sat up in bed, his dark chocolate eyes wide with fear, a scream dying in his throat. He raised a shaky hand to his cheek, feeling fine tremors working their way uncontrollably through his slender frame.

Declan stirred, trying to focus his mind on just what disturbed him. “Sey? You okay, baby?”

“I had the worst…nightmare, Dec.”

Declan roused himself more fully, hearing the note of anxiety in his partner’s almost inaudible voice. “What was it?” His fingers automatically sought his lover’s, and he didn’t feel better until Sey intertwined them, bringing Declan closer.

Lowering his head to his chest, Sey refused to make eye contact, muttering something under his breath. “It’s gonna sound stupid.”

Declan pushed back the covers and dove after Sey, pulling him against him. He knew he had done the right thing when he felt Sey shudder uncontrollably. Declan stroked his hair, fingers smoothing back the silken strands again and again, as if he needed to feel them, needed to know they were real. “Nothing you ever say to me is stupid, acushla. Talk to me.”

Sey buried his face against Declan’s neck, and Declan sighed at the feel of warmth and wetness. Tears. Ah, but he understood tears. Some people might find Sey overly emotional, but it was that humanity in his lover that initially drew Declan in and then kept him there. “It’s like someone was walking over my grave, Dec.”

“You’re not dead, baby.”

Sey flinched, actually jumped, within Declan’s arms, upon hearing the word ‘dead’. “I was.”

Declan couldn’t keep himself from shivering. “God, Sey. Don’t say shit like that.”

“But I was. In the dream…the nightmare.” Sey’s breath came erratically as he struggled to get the words out. “Don’t they say that if you dream of your death, you really die?”

Declan squeezed his eyes shut on a wave of intense pain. “Christ, Sey, that’s a…an old folk tale or some such thing. You’re here. Alive and well and…God, I love you, baby.”

“It scares you, too, Declan, doesn’t it?”

“What, acushla?”

“The idea of dying.”

“The only thing that scares me about dying is the idea of you or one of the kids dying. That’s a fact, baby.”

“But you’re not afraid of your own death?”

Declan shook his head slowly, his long red hair tumbling loose over his shoulders. “I faced all that a long, long time ago, Sey. But the idea of never seeing you again? That makes me want to weep out loud,” he finished huskily, emotion making it difficult to catch his breath.

Sey pressed the side of his face against Declan’s chest, letting the steady heartbeat soothe him. “I don’t want to leave you, Dec. Ever.”

“Then don’t, baby,” Declan whispered.

“As long as you’re with me, I can be brave.”

So you are, my love. And as long as I’m alive, you’ll never have to face that kind of terror alone.

“Stay with me forever?”

“Forever.”

Forever. It was a word that once changed their lives. It was a word that would continue to shape their lives.

As long as there was breath in his body, Declan would love Sey. As long as there were stars in the sky, Sey would live in Declan’s heart.

Always and forever.

They were not just words.

Chapter 26

Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house…not a critter was stirring, not even a…

“Luc?”

Nikita’s sleepy voice barely registered on the five-year old boy. On his hands and knees, he was peering under the bed.

“What are you looking for?”

“The bogeyman.” Luc sounded so serious. It was all Nikita could do not to wake up Michael. He should hear what passed for riveting conversation at this hour of the night between his wife and his youngest son.

“Luc,” Nikita said softly, trying not to belittle her son’s fears, “the bogeyman isn’t real.”

Luc’s head came up so sharply, he nearly hit the edge of the bed. “Yes, he is!” Luc shouted, his light eyes suddenly dark. Nikita was puzzled. Luc didn’t seem so much afraid as he did excited.

“Luc? Do you know what a bogeyman is?”

He nodded vigorously, his shaggy reddish-brown hair bouncing up and down on his shoulders. “Yep, Faith told me.”

Oh, this should be good. Maybe she would wake Michael.

“Really? What did Faith say?”

“He brings presents!” Luc declared triumphantly.

It was hard not to laugh, but the earnest expression on Luc’s face gave her pause. “I think…you have your holidays mixed up, Luc.”

“You mean we don’t get presents?” He looked positively crestfallen.

“No,” she smiled. “I mean he’s not the bogeyman.”

“Ohh…what’s his name then? I want to make sure he knows who I am.”

Nikita smoothed the still baby-fine hair back from Luc’s already handsome face. “Well, sweetie, he’s Santa.”

“Ohh…okay.”

Michael rolled over in his sleep, one arm trapping Nikita beneath its weight. “Hey,” he murmured drowsily against her ear, his nose nudging its way through her hair.

At the feel of his tongue on her skin, she chuckled, gently removing his arm from around her body. “Mi-chael…we have com-pany….”

“Mmm…we have a visitor? At this hour? You just don’t want to—“

“Sweep the floor! You’re right, Michael. It would raise such a lot of dust. We’d be sneezing till dawn.”

Michael opened his eyes more fully, giving his wife a curious look. She in turn coughed and gestured at their son, who suddenly seemed fascinated by his parents.

“Daddy? You could use the vacuum cleaner ‘stead. That wouldn’t be as messy as the broom.”

Michael regarded his wife with a playful twinkle in his now bright green eyes. “Hmm…there’s a lot to be said for sucking….” The pause drove Nikita crazy with anticipation. She was positive that Michael was going to tease her right up to the brink. And in front of their son, too.

“Sucking what, Daddy?” Luc pondered innocently.

“Dirt, Luc. Dirt.” A tiny muscle twitched at the corner of Michael’s mouth, and Nikita stifled the laughter threatening to overcome her.

She would get Michael for this later. She had ways of making him pay….

***

Luc, ever-present sprite that he was, found more people to stalk a short while later. He was hiding behind the Christmas tree, eavesdropping on the grown-ups who approached, unbeknownst to them.

The tiny flashing lights intermittently lit up the darkened room, though not enough to give away Luc’s hiding place. The two men had presents. Luc was mesmerized. He wondered if one of his many uncles could be Santa. Wouldn’t his oldest sister be furious and amazed if he found out the true identity of Santa Claus?

Sey leaned over to place the rectangular box under the Christmas tree, and he chuckled as his lover took advantage of that position to caress his lower back, sliding his long, slender fingers inside his unfastened jeans.

During the past several years, the Samuelle family had developed the habit of celebrating Christmas together. The tree was always in Michael and Nikita’s living room, and so were the presents. Sometimes the two together took up the entire space, leaving no room for people. But as Nikita quickly realized, it was misleading. There was always room…for one more.

“Hey,” Sey automatically protested, turning to face his partner. “What are you trying to do to me? Have your wicked way?”

Declan held Sey’s face between his hands and kissed him, his tongue lightly lapping at his earlobe. “Is it wicked if I want to stick my tongue in your—“

Suddenly Sey caught a glimpse of Luc and gasped, “—ear!”

Declan drew back with a frown. “Your ear? Baby, I want to—“

“Oh, jeez.” Sey nearly jumped back, separating his body from Declan’s. He could see how this was about to wind up.

“What’s the matter with you?” Declan asked, totally confused by Sey’s reaction. They had been making love all evening and into the night, more or less in celebration of their anniversary, when Sey remembered the last package that had to be wrapped. Throwing on a pair of jeans without even bothering to fasten them, Sey had teased, touched and provoked Declan all the way down the stairs and into the Samuelle part of the house.

“It’s getting late,” Sey finished lamely.

Declan blinked. “Suddenly you’re tired?”

Sey pulled Declan close, whispering into his ear, “Little pitchers have big ears.”

“What the bloody hell does that--?” Declan declared with a scowl before his lambent silver gaze lit upon the young boy crouching behind the tree. “—mean…”

“Hi,” said Luc.

“Hi,” said Sey weakly, waving to the little boy.

Luc stood up and walked over to where Declan and Sey were. Scrunching his face up, Luc asked blithely, “Why?”

“Why what?” Declan replied with a certain feeling of trepidation.

“You said you wanted to put your tongue in his ear.” Luc’s expression made it abundantly clear what he thought of that suggestion.

“Why?”

“I—uh, aren’t you supposed to be in bed?”

“You didn’t answer my question,” Luc whined.

“I’m a grown-up. I don’t have to answer every question.”

Nice try, thought Sey. That’ll never work. I’ve seen this kid in action before. He’s like Michael and Nikita on steroids.

“My Daddy does.”

“Your Daddy does what?” Declan was really rather proud of that one. He was starting to sound just like Luc.

“Answers questions.” Luc stared at his uncle, deep in thought. “Hey, I think Daddy likes that, too.”

Declan raised an eyebrow. “Likes what?”

“He sticks his tongue in Mommy’s ear. He doesn’t know I saw him, but I did.”

Sheesh. Thanks for sharing. Declan couldn’t help it. Little embarrassed him. But he knew he was blushing. And at his age, too.

“That’s…um…nice.” There. That sounded appropriately noncommittal.

“Are you going to hurt Uncle Sey?”

Declan gasped. “What? Of course not. Luc—“

“Daddy does.”

“Daddy hurts Uncle Sey?” Declan narrowed his eyes to slits and studied his lover and partner of several years. Sey looked back helplessly, shaking his head.

“No!” Luc’s entire tone and body language indicated that Declan was barking up the wrong tree. A moment later, Declan wanted to flee.

“He hurts Mommy.”

“What?” Declan wrapped an arm around Sey’s waist and wished that they had never left their third-floor apartment. He leaned on the younger man, his lips grazing Sey’s ear, as he whispered, “Help me. Please.”

“Luc, I’m sure your Daddy…” Sey nearly stumbled over the words in his mouth. “…doesn’t hurt your Mommy.”

“Yes, he does,” Luc persisted, addressing Declan. “He kisses her, just the way you kissed Uncle Sey, and then she makes a funny noise, like he’s hurting her.”

Sey wanted to scream. He wanted to remain a non-participant in anyone’s sex life but his own. And knowing even this much about Michael’s made him feel like he should apologize for finding it out.

“Umm….” Sey’s voice drifted out as Declan’s tongue swirled around the outside of his ear. “Aye, tell us, boyo. I want to hear the answer to that one, too.”

“I plead the fifth,” Sey murmured to Declan.

“What’s a fifth?” Luc inquired.

Sey could feel Declan’s laughter thrumming throughout his body, the gentle vibration making Sey’s body tingle in response. “Umm…Luc? We have to go now.”

“Oh. ‘Kay. I’ll just ask Faith. She knows everything.”

Sey searched the young boy’s face for deceit and saw nothing but genuine pride there. Far be it for him to disabuse Luc of the notion that older sisters or brothers could be somewhat omniscient. It was undoubtedly a conceit that Faith fostered for a reason.

“Luc?” Okay, he couldn’t let that go.

The little boy nodded.

“Maybe not everything.”

Chapter 27 (Discussion of sexuality)

Sasha rolled his eyes and gave his father a gentle shove. Declan was still asleep in bed, lying on his stomach, the apparent disarray of the blankets revealing more than they concealed. “Da! You’re missing Christmas!”

Declan opened one storm-grey eye and peered sleepily at his twelve-year old son. “You woke me up,” he said flatly.

“Yeah. You wanted to sleep all day?”

Declan turned over onto his back and stretched expansively. “Maybe.”

“You’re such a slut, Da,” Sasha snorted, trying in vain to suppress a chuckle.

A satisfied smile crept across Declan’s fine-boned visage. “Mmm…if you weren’t my son, I might take exception to that.”

Sasha winked at his father. “No one else would dare tell you the truth.”

An insouciant sparkle entered Declan’s silvery gaze. “No one who’s lived to tell the story, anyway.”

Sasha pretended to shiver, and Declan huffed softly in protest. “No fair. You see right through me, kiddo. I’ve got a certain reputation to uphold here, y’know, as a dangerous man.”

Sasha grinned unrepentantly. “Well, I hate to tell you, Da, but I think Dad’s turning you into a freaking marshmallow.”

“Bite your tongue. Next thing you know, you’ll be telling me how sweet I am,” Declan said with a laugh.

“Nah, let’s not get carried away,” Sasha replied, his dark eyes gleaming just like Sey’s.

“Where’s your Dad gone to then?”

“Dad’s in the kitchen downstairs. With Emmy. She’s in full baking mode, Da. It’s kinda scary. I swear…she needs to get a life.”

“She likes the one she’s got, Sasha. You can’t quarrel with that.”

“Sure I can. I like to tease Princess Em. She gets all red in the face, and then she acts like one of us Earthlings for a change.”

A long muscular thigh slid out of bed. “All brothers think their sisters are from outer space.”

“You too?”

Declan nodded. “Aye, kiddo.” He reluctantly pulled himself into a sitting position, rubbing his bare chest with one splayed hand. “Mind you, I loved every one of them. But I can’t claim I understood them.”

Declan yawned. “I can’t believe Sey left me up here alone.”

“You know it’s Dad’s favorite holiday, Da. He loves all that stuff.”

Declan sighed. “I know.”

Sasha perched on the edge of the bed. “How can you miss him when you were together all night long?”

Declan looked askance at his son. “You wait till you’re in love.”

“I am. With Skye.”

“It’s…different…when you’re older.”

“How?”

Declan looked conflicted. “Well….”

“Oh, I get it. The sex part.”

“It’s not sex, Sasha. It’s making love. And when you get that close to someone else, it’s like you’re part of them.”

Sasha smiled. “If I say I can’t wait to grow up, you’ll tell me I’m being impatient. As usual.”

“You are. Don’t be in such a hurry to grow up.”

“I can’t help it, Da. When I see what you and Dad have…I want that, too.”

“I think that’s one of the nicest things you’ve ever said to me.” Declan looked momentarily nonplussed. He reached out to ruffle Sasha’s hair, but the young boy suddenly cast his eyes down at the bed, plucking almost anxiously at the blankets.

Declan was nothing if not perceptive. “What’s wrong, Sasha?”

“Nothing. It’s Christmas, Da. What could be wrong?” he said lightly, but the warmth never reached his voice.

“Something’s troubling you. Is it school?”

At the mention of school, Sasha frowned, a fierce glare coming and going in his eyes.

“It is school, then.”

“No. It’s…it’s not school, Da. Not exactly.”

“How not exactly?” Declan inquired kindly, trying to brush Sasha’s long brown hair away from his face. He wanted to see Sasha’s face. He needed to know what was running through that agile mind of his.

“Um…there’s this girl.”

“Ah,” Declan nodded knowingly.

“Don’t say it like that, Da. You think you know what I’m going to say, but you don’t. You couldn’t.”

Declan blinked. Now Sasha was scaring him.

“There’s this girl. She’s older than me. I think she’s almost 14.”

“And?” The anticipation was killing him. What was Sasha trying to say?

“And I…um…like her.”

Declan nodded encouragingly. “And?”

All at once Sasha flushed dark red. “She’s…I….”

Declan regarded his son with a mixture of love and angst. “You’re attracted to her?”

A tiny muscle clenched and unclenched itself along Sasha’s jawline. “Yeah,” he whispered. “I’m so ashamed,” he continued in a low voice.

“Why, kiddo?” Declan shook his head. “It’s a normal part of growing up. There’s nothing wrong with having those kinds of feelings.”

“But Da, I love Skye,” Sasha cried out in an agonized tone.

“Aye, I know you do,” Declan agreed.

“Well, how can I love Skye and want to…to…boff this girl?” Sasha clapped a hand over his mouth, as if he could somehow contain the feelings that threatened to spill recklessly.

“Sasha, I know you don’t want to hear this, but you’re too young to be boffing anyone.”

“I know, Da. I just—“

“—have the feeling. I know.” Declan raked a hand through his long red hair. “Y’know, just cause you have these feelings…it doesn’t mean you have to act on them. I’m not telling you to stop feeling what you feel, but you can control yourself.”

“I know, I’m not going to run screaming through the streets trolling for girls, Da.” Sasha looked miserable. “But it feels like I’m betraying Skye, Da. I love her. I should want only her.”

“Sasha,” Declan began, taking his son’s hands in his. “Your head…and your heart…and your sexuality are all telling you different things. You love Skye, yes, that’s what your heart says. But your head is telling you that she’s too young to have those kinds of feelings. It wouldn’t be right for you to want her that way. Not now.”

Thank God, Declan thought. He really didn’t give Sasha nearly as much credit as he should. He was far more mature than even Sey realized.

“As for your body, Sasha…your body wants only one thing right now. To find release. It doesn’t care who or what or if it’s love, kiddo.”

Declan looked thoughtful. “If I could tell you just one thing, Sasha, it would be this. You can have sex with someone you don’t love. It might even feel pretty good. I won’t lie to you. But it’ll never ever feel anything like making love to someone you’re in love with.”

Sasha’s face suddenly cleared. “Then I’m going to wait for Skye, Da. I want it to mean something.”

“Then it will, kiddo.” Declan pulled Sasha into his arms and hugged him as tightly as he could. “You are such a good kid. You know that?”

“Oh, Da…” Sasha groaned in mock protest.

“Thanks for the Christmas present, kiddo.”

“Just so you don’t expect me to wait another five or six years before I…uh…you know….”

Declan made an impolite noise. “You’ll try your damnedest, though, won’t you, Sasha?”

“Is that an order?”

Declan pondered, a curious smile twitching his lips. “Aye, I think it is, kiddo.”

“That makes it easier being me, Da. Thanks,” quipped Sasha dryly.

Chapter 28—NC-17

It started out innocently enough. Neil wasn’t looking for a woman. Or an affair. He loved his wife. But loving Maddy had become increasingly difficult.

Her manner distant, even cool, Madeline surrounded herself with what she considered to be perfection. Though she was, of course, an expert in the psychiatric field, she was curiously remiss in diagnosing herself. She clung to this unrealistic idea of perfection as a way of dealing with her fears and anxieties: about being a good mother, about being a good wife.

Maddy didn’t see her own insecurity, her own vulnerability. She hid behind a carefully-constructed façade, a set of defense mechanisms that represented the persona that Walter would have dubbed The Ice Queen. It was a persona that those who were in Section were well familiar with. Though they would never have perceived it for the weakness it was.

They didn’t argue. The disturbing lack of intensity that pervaded their relationship wouldn’t let them. Instead they merely drifted further and further apart.

Neil felt invisible. He could live without the physical act of love, but his emotional needs were going unmet. He grew sad. And it was a sadness that he couldn’t keep from his children.

He didn’t want to hurt them. Any of them. But he felt as though he had been cut adrift in a sea of overwhelming cold, the temperature rapidly chilling him to the bone. His soul was dying, and he knew it. But he could no more leave Maddy than fly.

A sigh escaped him. He swallowed the lump in his throat, trying desperately to focus on the task at hand. Oddly enough, his practice was doing well enough that he could afford to take time off. Indulge himself. Take up a hobby. Get to know his kids better. Kids who often seemed just as inexplicably sad as he.

The computer was a Christmas gift from the Samuelles. He planned to use it to search for new and interesting medical articles. But on days like today, when the loneliness became too much to bear, he went to the Internet chatrooms. Looking for company.

And he found it.

***

“Age/sex?” flashed across his monitor screen.

Neil laughed softly. No matter which chatroom he ended up in, the questions always started out this way.

“Too old. Disgustingly male,” he typed.

He watched as the words appeared on the screen, thinking naively that his Net sobriquet, MidniteCowboy, would identify him only as someone who loved the Old West.

“What about you?” he queried. He was in a chatroom for adults. He had no patience for kids who shouted in CAPS or indulged their penchant for bad language. He was quite simply looking for a friend. Nothing more.

“Old enough to know better. Revoltingly female,” came the reply.

A moment later, they were chatting like best friends. He liked this particular Net buddy right away. In fact, if he had been thinking straight, he would have realized that he was dangerously attracted to another woman.

But he wasn’t.

They began meeting regularly. Neil found himself looking for her online every night. Suddenly Madeline’s aloof attitude didn’t consume his every waking moment anymore. He felt…almost free.

In truth, he was falling in love.

Which was a damned sight more frightening than if Neil had simply had an affair. Sex was one thing. Love was…quite another.

***

She seemed well-educated. Every bit as much as he was. It was a pleasure to talk to her. He soon found himself bouncing ideas off her, and she seemed more than willing to listen. If it had stopped there…things might have been different.

But there was more.

She wasn’t just intelligent. She had a vibrancy that was missing from his wife. Madeline no longer knew what enthusiasm was.

Madeline no longer knew what sex was.

She had neglected her husband far too long. And now she would pay dearly.

***

Neil closed the door to his study, feeling vaguely self-conscious about locking it. But he knew that he often became…involved…when he was online. He lost track of time when he was chatting with MidnightRider. At first, that was what attracted him to her. The similarity in their screennames had drawn them together. But it was the almost palpable chemistry between them that kept them coming back.

He felt excitement thrum throughout his body. Neil had been depressed for so long, he didn’t immediately recognize the feeling for what it was. But now he knew. It was desire.

He wanted her. His MidnightRider.

Maybe tonight would be the night.

He had heard about cybersex. How anonymous it was. How unfulfilling. How addictive. How potentially damaging it could be to a marriage.

He wanted to try it.

With her.

But much to his amazement…she made the first move.

***

“Mmm…would you like to touch me, Cowboy?”

God, yes. He wished she was here. “Yes.”

He could swear he heard a throaty chuckle echo forth from the computer. “Let’s go to a private room.”

Once there, things escalated quickly. “What do you look like, Rider?”

“Long dark hair. Dark eyes.”

Neil winced. He thought of Maddy, and then he forced himself to put her out of his mind. She had no place here.

“Are you touching yourself, Cowboy?”

The thought hadn’t occurred to Neil. Suddenly he realized that this could in fact be every bit as real as he wished it was.

“Yes,” he typed. Then he made it true.

One hand on the keyboard, one hand secreted between his legs. Just gently rubbing at first.

“Make love to me, Cowboy.”

“How?”

“Talk to me.”

So he did. He disrobed her in his mind, trying not to see his wife there, disapproving mouth set firmly in a moue of disgust.

“Touch me. I want to feel your hands on me.”

In his head, he went there. He went to a place where there were just the two of them. They were alone. In the forest. She was tall and slender. Brunette. Leaning against a tree. The hem of her dress was caught by the wind, and it flew way above the knee, exposing her thighs.

He moved closer, settling himself between her legs, his erection straining the fabric of his jeans. She protested that he was wearing too many clothes. He obliged by taking them off.

Her breasts fit neatly into his palms. He pushed a bit more roughly at her dress, raising it enough to uncover the dark triangle at the top of her thighs. Shielded only by the most sheer pair of panties he had ever fantasized about, she was lovely.

The gauzy material ripped easily in one hand.

Pulling one of her legs around his waist, he opened the entrance to the center of her being. Unable to resist the pull of that welcoming heat, he thrust deeply inside her, seating himself comfortably that quickly. Her breath hissed between straight white teeth, her pink tongue flicking out to moisten dark red lips.

“Ride me, Cowboy.”

He did.

***

Neil could no longer type. He was in the throes of the most delicious climax he had experienced in years.

It went on and on and on. He came inside her, his hot essence filling her, spilling from her. It had been so long. So long.

Semen spattered her thighs. Those slender but muscular thighs that even now held him trapped within her.

“Don’t go yet, Cowboy.”

He had to.

Neil dropped his gaze from the computer to his lap. His jeans were wet. This was one fantasy that had some basis in reality.

He typed “Good Night”, but MidnightRider had the last word.

“I think I love you, Cowboy.”

Oh, shit. I think I love you, too.

Chapter 29

Neil buried his face in his hands. Thank God the door was still locked. He sat there for several seconds, unable to really move, trying to calm his thundering heart. OhGodOhGodOhGod, his mind kept repeating. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t physically transgressed the line. His heart was stricken by guilt so powerful, he felt he might never resurface, much less recover. This couldn’t happen again.

It was bad enough that it happened at all, but it could never happen again. MaddyMaddyMaddy, his mind took up a new chant. I love you. Only you. I don’t know why I thought this would be okay. It didn’t happen by accident. I don’t even have the excuse of getting carried away.

I did this. I chose this. And now my marriage is broken beyond repair. How can I face her? How can I tell her? I can’t keep this from her. She’ll see it written across my face the moment she looks at me.

A knock sounded at the door, and Neil jumped, startled as much by his own reaction as by the sound itself. He swiped at both cheeks, suddenly realizing he’d been crying without even knowing. There was no time to pull himself together, and it didn’t matter anyway. Whoever it was…would know something was very wrong.

Belatedly aware that his jeans still showed the evidence of what happened, he flushed dark red. There was no way to get past the person at the door without being seen. And hiding was hardly an option.

“Dad?”

Neil breathed a small sigh of relief. It was his son. Connor. All things considered, it was better this way. If it were Maddy or Kady, he didn’t know what he would do differently, but it would be worse.

He unlocked the door and stepped back, unable to make eye contact with Connor. Connor was growing rapidly. Now taller and leaner than he had been, Connor was beginning to resemble his Samuelle “cousin”, Chris, even more than before. Still relatively introspective, Connor was nonetheless very perceptive with other people’s feelings, especially his father’s. He didn’t want to blame his mother for the way things changed after Kady was born, but he couldn’t help but see how her need to control, her need to make things, and people, perfect, was responsible for skewing the family dynamics.

“Daddy?” He could see the traces of tears on his father’s face. Far from calling him weak, Connor constantly wondered how Neil stayed so strong and so positive for him and Kady. It was obvious that he was unhappy, and Connor was convinced that his mother was at fault.

“Did Mom do this?”

Neil winced. “No, Conn. I screwed up this time. All on my own.”

“But it’s Mom’s fault, Daddy. She doesn’t love us anymore.”

“That’s not true,” Neil automatically responded. “I’m sure she loves…*you*.” Neil didn’t even register the way he emphasized Connor, leaving himself totally out of the equation.

Connor picked up on that immediately. “You think Mom doesn’t love you anymore, Daddy?” he asked with the ingenuousness of youth.

Tears sprung into Neil’s eyes upon hearing Connor voice his deepest, darkest fear. “I-I’m afraid so, Conn,” he managed to whisper. “It’s not your fault. Or Kady’s. Sometimes it just happens.”

“You still love her, though, don’t you?”

“God, yes.” Neil didn’t care that this was his 11-year old son. He often talked to Connor as if they were friends as well as family. Connor needed the extra attention, and to be fair, so did he.

But he was ever cognizant of the line that could not be crossed. He never confessed anything that would be considered inappropriate. A friend was one thing, a confidante another. He would never force Connor or Kady to take sides. His home would not become a battle zone. He would make certain of that.

“You’re not going to let her get a divorce, are you, Daddy?”

Suddenly Neil paled. He felt sick. He couldn’t stay in that room a moment longer. Brushing past his son, he raced down the hall and into the bathroom, just in time to throw up.

Divorce? Divorce? OhGodOhGodOhGod. The litany returned. Full force. He sank to his knees on the carpet in front of the toilet, his head down, and wrapped his arms around himself.

What was he going to do?

***

Connor walked slowly to the low wall that separated the Hunter and the Samuelle properties. He sat down on the cold, hard stone surface, finding it somehow fitting that it felt so uncomfortable. Drawing his knees up to his chest, he rested his cheek on them.

I’m not going to cry. There’s nothing to cry about. I’m not sad anyway. I’m…I’m…what am I?

His nostrils flaring suddenly, his mind finally grasped what his body was trying to tell him. “I’m not sad. I’m angry,” he said aloud, almost shocked by the way that particular insight resonated within him.

“Yeah?” came the unexpected intrusion. With a loud sigh, Faith initially straddled the stone wall, smoothly segueing into a lotus position. “What are you angry about?”

“Since when do you care?” Connor asked bitterly. It wasn’t Faith’s fault that she didn’t consider him her soulmate anymore. He knew that. In his head. But his heart couldn’t forgive her. It made remaining best friends…difficult.

Faith shrugged, but her changeable grey-green eyes reflected hurt for a second. She still cared about Connor. Honest.

She plucked at the grass absently. “Maybe you’d feel better if you talked about it.”

“Maybe you’d feel better if you stayed on your side of the wall, Fee.”

“You are angry, Pooh.”

“Don’t call me that,” he snapped. Just the sound of that beloved nickname on her lips made him want to grind his teeth together.

She reached out to ruffle his dark blond hair, and he shuddered at her touch, shaking off her hand moments later. “Don’t touch me.”

“I’m just trying to help.”

“Well, you’re not. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Faith waited all of two seconds before launching a new offensive. “Aw, come on, Connor, talk to me. You know you’re going to tell me anyway,” she whined, trying her best to wheedle the information out of him.

“I don’t want to talk about it!” he shouted.

“Well, what’s so damn important that you can’t talk about it? Huh?” That indignant tone worked so often for Faith, it couldn’t really be considered a conscious attempt to manipulate. It was just part of her personality.

“I think my parents are going to get a freaking divorce!” Connor exploded, his anger increasing exponentially with the loudness of his voice.

Dead silence.

Faith looked aghast. Whatever she expected Connor to say…that wasn’t even close. “Shit, Pooh.” The expletive and the nickname just dropped from her lips without thinking. She was stunned.

“I-I…damn.”

“What?”

They both turned at the sound of the quavering soprano voice. Oh, God, thought Connor. Kady.

“Kady!”

The heartbroken little girl’s face crumpled. “Mommy and Daddy can’t get a divorce! They can’t! They can’t!”

Connor leaped off the top of the stone wall, but Kady was too fast for him. Racing across the lawn, she flew into the house, slamming the back door behind her.

“Shit, Fee! Now look what you did!”

“What I did? Listen, Pooh—“

“I told you not to call me that, Fee! In fact, don’t call me anything ever again! Stay the hell away from me and my little sister, okay?” He strode furiously away for a few paces, then stopped. “And don’t talk to me at school either! I never want to see you again! Ever!”

Faith’s eyes narrowed, as if she were assessing a target. “Be careful what you wish for, Connor! You might regret it!”

“The only thing I regret right now is that I thought I loved you, Fee!”

Her lower lip trembled suspiciously. “Don’t say that, Connor.”

“I hate you, Faith!” Connor spat. “Don’t you ever come near me again. I mean it.”

***

He hoped he would be in time. He prayed he would be. “Kady?”

He heard the sound of retching, and he vaulted up the stairs two at a time, his feet thudding at the top of the landing. Kady’s bedroom door was open. He pushed it to the wall very gently, listening to the creak that it made. The hinges needed to be oiled.

“Kady? Are you in here?”

Connor was nothing if not protective of his little sister. It was a paradox that was lost on him. She was both the cause of his pain and the innocent victim of his mother’s unwitting ambitions.

He saw her now. Kneeling on the floor. Spitting into the toilet. She was a very emotional little girl. He had always felt that. But this was different. Darker. More…scary.

If he could borrow one of his mother’s ten dollar psychological terms, he would almost say it felt pathological.

If he knew what it meant.

She finished retching and drew her legs under her. It was as if she were trying to make herself as small as possible. Or invisible.

“Kady, are you all right?”

She started to sob, great heartwrenching sobs that shook her tiny frame, and Connor briefly wondered how any five-year old could know enough sadness to shake with such intensity.

She latched onto Connor like he was her lifeline, and he held her as tight as he could, murmuring nonsense syllables to soothe her anguished soul.

“Kady, Kady, it’s not your fault!”

“It is! I try to be a good girl! But it’s not enough! Mommy wants me to be better! And better!”

“You are a good girl, Kady. You are.”

“I don’t want them to get a divorce, Connor,” she wailed.

She threaded her slender fingers through Connor’s thick dark blond hair, clenching a strand almost painfully tight. “I don’t want to leave Daddy.”

“You don’t have to, Kady. Listen—“

She hiccupped. Her dark brown eyes looked black now. It was amazing that someone in such dire straits could look so heartstoppingly beautiful.

“They can’t make us do anything, Kady. I promise.”

“Good,” she pronounced. “Cause I don’t want to live with Mommy.”

A sharp gasp rent the air.

Connor’s eyes met his mother’s. He could almost feel sorry for her. Almost.

Chapter 30

Madeline didn’t wait for Connor to say anything. She backed out of the room as quickly as she’d come in. Hurtling down the hall to her bedroom, she literally threw herself through the door in a curiously graceless gesture for a woman like her. Leaning back against the door, she clapped both hands over her mouth. It was the wake-up call from Hell.

Not only was she stunned to learn that her husband planned to divorce her, but she couldn’t believe that the kids knew before she did. What did I do? she cried inwardly, lost for the first time in years. Out of touch with her true feelings for too long, Madeline was amazed to discover that she was silently weeping. I don’t weep. Other women weep. Tears are for the weak. I’m not weak. I’m…

…losing my husband and my kids. They want to stay with Neil. Both of them. They don’t…love me. That isn’t fair. I devoted myself to making their lives…*perfect*…and this is the thanks I get. I get…*nothing*. They get…*each other*.

She closed her eyes and held onto her anger for a few more seconds before coming to the realization that three against one meant something significant. The logic that ruled her mind and her life demanded that she pay attention. How can you be right, Madeline? How likely is it that all three of them are wrong about you?

Faceitfaceitfaceit. There is truth here. Staring you in the face. “Oh, my God….” Madeline opened her eyes and caught her breath on a sob. “Neil.”

***

Neil came out of the bathroom slowly, not realizing that Madeline was in their bedroom. He had taken off the offending jeans as well as his shorts before showering. He pulled the length of the towel over his wet hair, covering his face, which was why he didn’t notice that his wife was studying his nude body with more than her usual interest.

“Neil?” she croaked hoarsely, her voice a shattered remnant of her normal elegant tones.

He dropped the towel with a sharp cry. “Maddy!”

She pushed herself off the door, approaching her husband with both uncharacteristic haste and the awkward movements of an inexperienced girl.

“Neil, I know.”

He turned ashen. “You do?” He bent to pick up the towel, feeling positively compelled to cover himself now.

“Yes,” she admitted tearfully.

“Maddy, I…uh…I don’t know what to say.”

“Neil, I don’t want a divorce.”

“You don’t?” He sounded surprised if not exactly hopeful.

“No.” A puzzled frown marred her beautiful face. “Why? Do you want one?”

“God, no, Maddy.” That sounded genuine. Neil’s reaction continued to bother Madeline, but she was too grateful to look a gift horse in the mouth.

***

Faith slammed the refrigerator door closed. She stomped over to the counter, poured out a cold glass of milk, and then put the milk container back into the refrigerator with a force that caused its contents to slosh over the top.

Nikita watched her daughter carefully without speaking. Eventually Faith noticed her mother’s scrutiny. “What?”

Nikita shook her head. “Something bothering you, Fee?”

“No. Yes. It’s just—some people have no idea how to act, y’know?”

Nikita nodded slowly, though she had absolutely no idea what Faith meant. “And this is because…?”

Faith raised the glass to her lips and swallowed, looking for all the world like milk couldn’t fill the emptiness inside her. “Connor.” Her voice broke. “He said terrible things, Mom. Things I don’t think I’ll ever forget.”

“Why?”

“I…um….”

“Did you provoke him, Fee?” The unspoken message was, You know how you get.

“Nooo…not really. Well, maybe a little bit.” Faith looked terribly conflicted. In the usual course of a day, Faith rarely second-guessed herself. There was simply no percentage in it.

But the thought of losing Connor made her stop and think. “I think he was…really upset, Mom.”

“By you?”

“Not exactly. I think I just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“What did he say?”

“That his…parents…are getting…a divorce, Mom. Is that true?”

Nikita’s mouth dropped open slightly. “Excuse me? Neil and Madeline? Getting a divorce?”

Michael came into the kitchen, a half-eaten cookie in one hand. “Who’s getting a divorce, Kita?”

“Neil and Madeline.”

Michael frowned. “You’re kidding. It’s not like Neil to give up.”

Nikita stared at her husband. “You knew things were bad?”

Michael shrugged. “We talk once in a while. Neil and me.”

“Did you give him the idea, Michael?”

Michael blinked. “Why would I tell him to divorce Madeline?”

“You don’t like her. You never did. Even though she helped both of us through some desperate times.”

Michael considered that. “I don’t like her. That much is true, Kita. But I would never wish for her marriage to fall apart. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.”

“Oh, Michael, what are we going to do?”

“Why do we have to do anything, doucette? It’s none of our business.”

“They’re friends. Family. Michael…”

He sighed. “Don’t, Kita. It has nothing to do with us.”

“Daddy!”

Faith’s outraged voice brought Michael up short. He had been so intensely focused on what Nikita was saying that he barely registered his daughter’s presence.

“You have to do something! Connor already hates me cause I made him blurt out that his parents are getting a divorce! Kady heard what he said, and he blamed me for making her cry! He says he’s never going to speak to me again, Daddy! And you know what?” Faith drew a ragged breath at the end of her lengthy speech, finally betraying her own vested interest in what happened next.

“I believe him!”

Michael glanced at his wife. “We shouldn’t get involved in this, doucette.”

“That’s never stopped us before, Michael,” she reminded him with a grin.

***

It felt good to hold his wife again. If only he didn’t feel so incredibly guilty. Moment after advantageous moment passed, leaving Neil tongue-tied at the same time that he dreamed of being able to turn things around.

“Maddy?” he whispered against her ear. They had made love for the first time in months, their bodies still able to express what their hearts felt and their minds couldn’t quite grasp.

She stretched with feline grace, her polished nails drumming rhythmically on his chest. Looking intently into his dark blue eyes, she said, “Yes, Neil, I still love you.”

“How did you know what I was going to ask?”

“How did you know exactly what to do to bring me back to my senses?”

“I love you, Maddy.”

“But--?”

All at once, Neil averted his gaze, unable to look his wife in the eye. “But we need to do better. Much better. We’re hurting the kids now. I think you’re beginning to see how much.”

Madeline nodded, her dark brown eyes suddenly tragic. “I never meant for that to happen, Neil. I love both of them. So much.”

His hands intertwined with hers, seemingly of their own volition. “Then come to counseling with me, Maddy. We need to work on this together. Not apart.”

“Will we be all right, Neil?” Madeline had never looked more vulnerable in her life. “I don’t want to lose you.”

He buried his face against the side of her neck. “I don’t want to lose you either, Maddy. Just the thought…kills me.”

But what about your secret, Neil? He tried desperately to shush the voice inside his head, clamoring to shout the truth and be done with it, damning the consequences.

Shut up! he told the voice. Shut up! I want to stay with my wife. That other woman…MidnightRider…she doesn’t even exist. Not really.

It never happened. If I have to take this secret to my grave, I will.

But what about your feelings for her, Neil? that little voice continued. You said it yourself. You thought you were falling in love with her. Did all that just…go away?

I’ll never contact her again. I swear.

But what if she contacts you, Neil? She said she was falling in love with you, too. What if she tracks you down and comes here? What if she tries to come between you and Maddy?

Who are you going to choose then, Neil?

Chapter 31

In the end, Neil decided that he would take his punishment like a man. He had no intention of telling Madeline about his cyber affair. What point would it serve but to hurt her and ruin any chance they had for reconciliation? If his penance was to keep the secret and live with the guilt that ensued, so be it.

It felt like lying. But he couldn’t justify telling her the truth. Not now.

He started to slide out of bed, but Madeline’s hands reached out to trap his waist. “Don’t go,” she whispered sleepily.

He stroked her temple with his fingers, and she turned her head in the direction of his hand. “I’ll be back in a little while. I need to check on the kids.”

Immediately contrite, Madeline murmured, “I’m sorry, I should have thought of that myself. They must be very upset.”

That was a major understatement. Neil brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. “They’ll feel a whole lot better when they see how things have changed.”

“Have they?” Madeline struggled to raise herself up on one elbow, casting an anxious glance at her husband. “Have they changed, Neil?”

Answering a question with another question, Neil replied, “Don’t you think so?”

She smiled.

***

Neil walked through the house, clicking on lights here and there. It was late afternoon when he and Madeline first found each other again, and now it was near dark. Clad only in a fresh pair of sun-bleached jeans and a cotton shirt that hung open, Neil kept an eye out for Connor and Kady.

He found them in his study. At the computer. Biting back a gasp of horror, Neil casually asked Connor, “What are you doing?”

Connor’s dark blue eyes, so like his own, made contact. “Ssh,” he whispered, indicating the dark-haired little girl sitting attentively at his side. “Kady’s playing a game.”

Neil breathed a sigh of relief. “You’re not on the Net, then?”

Connor shook his head. “No. Did you want something, Dad?”

“Just wanted to…um…check something out on the computer.” Yeah, I want to see if there’s any email from MidnightRider. So I can delete it. Without reading it first, of course.

“But it can wait.”

Connor brightened. “Good. Because I finally got her calmed down, Dad. I don’t want her to get upset all over again,” Connor added softly.

“Of course,” Neil agreed. That made sense. Of course, it did. So why did he feel this overwhelming compulsion to connect with MidnightRider? Right…now.

Neil backed out of the room and closed the door. Laptop. Maddy’s laptop. It was in her office. He would just log on using her laptop and get rid of the mail. That would make him feel better. Oh, the old mail would still be on the hard drive of his own computer. But it was password-protected. Connor couldn’t get into the file by mistake. And he was certainly no hacker. Not like Sasha.

Moments later, Neil settled into Madeline’s chair and booted up her laptop. She used the same service that he did. It was just a matter of signing on as a “guest”. He scrolled to the sign-in page, searching for the “guest” logon.

Madeline had more than one screenname. There were five or six attached to this account alone. He didn’t understand why she had so many, but the service was relatively cheap, so it wasn’t something that actively bothered him.

His nose twitched as his eyes caught something. Huh? Couldn’t be.

But there it was. In black and white. MidnightRider. How was that even possible? Wondering idly if his own guilty conscience was playing some kind of trick on him, Neil didn’t immediately react.

When he did, he forced back a wave of outrage so strong, he wanted to scream.

Maddy was MidnightRider? The creative, spontaneous, animated and enthusiastic cyberlover he called MidnightRider was his wife? He’d been falling in love with his wife? All over again?

Coming hard on the back of that thought was the next. He was beating himself up for crossing the line, for getting overly involved with another woman, while that woman was…what? Madeline demonstrated no remorse for the affair. Not the way Neil had. But then, the logical part of his brain insisted that Madeline had always had a knack for compartmentalizing her feelings. It was one of the things that led to her reputation as the Ice Queen at Section.

Trying to give his wife the benefit of the doubt, he thought, It’s not that she doesn’t feel guilty. She just doesn’t feel the guilt the same way I do. She doesn’t allow herself to feel. That way led to imperfection.

Well, dammit, he would show her what she could do with her perfect face and her perfect body! If she had shown him half the interest that she showed MidniteCowboy, the affair never would have happened in the first place.

Neil powered down the laptop with an enigmatic look on his face. All that passion still lurked below the surface…the little hypocrite. If it wasn’t so tragic, it would be comical. Here he was, a grown man, jealous of…*himself*.

Well, some people needed to be put back in their place. With a vengeance.

***

Connor heard the shouting and looked nervously at his sister. Kady was oblivious. Preoccupied with coaching Barbie through her Dream House, Kady was lost in a world of her own making. Where mothers and fathers accepted their kids. And each other.

“Stay here, Kady,” he said, patting his sister on the shoulder. But he knew the direction wasn’t necessary. She seemed oddly content to remain where she was.

He crept down the hall to his parents’ room, wincing as the shouting grew louder. Here and there he could make out actual words. His father sounded angry. He had never heard his father raise his voice in anger. Not really. Not like this.

There was a thump. Connor gasped. It sounded like furniture moving. What were they doing in there? Killing each other?

Connor ran.

***

By the time Connor got to the Samuelle kitchen, he was out of breath. “Come, come quick!”

Faith stared stonily at the young boy she had known all his life. “You must have me confused with somebody else, Connor.”

“Aw, Faith, don’t be like that now. This is more important that our stupid argument!”

“Oh, yeah? More important than…hurting your best friend’s feelings?” Faith wiped surreptitiously at her cheek, realizing that she was indeed hurt by Connor’s abrupt withdrawal of his friendship and love. It was something she had always counted on, something she assumed would be there. Forever.

“Feeee…” he drawled out her name. “There’s no time for this.”

“I know. You never have any time for me anymore. That’s okay. I don’t need you either,” Faith said bitterly.

“Faith!” Connor grabbed the young girl by the shoulders and shook her gently. “You’re the one who pushed me out of your life! Not the other way around!”

“So? Maybe I made a mistake. I’m…” Faith locked gaze with her former best friend, clearly imploring Connor to understand, to unbend, to forgive.

“You’re what, Fee?” Temporarily sidetracked by his own emotional issues, Connor let himself be distracted by the young girl who still held his heart captive.

***

Neil pushed Madeline away with such force that she landed on the bed behind her with a definite bounce. “Neil!” she cried out, unable to believe this was her husband.

“Maddy!” he shouted. “So when were you going to tell me about this other side of you? This other life you’re leading?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Neil.”

He leaned close, his eyes hot on her mouth, his breath rasping across her lips. “Save the lies…MidnightRider.”

She gasped. “How…how did you know?”

“Does it matter? How could you give yourself with such abandon to someone else when you’ve been starving me for a touch of your hand for months?”

Madeline frowned, the puzzled look doing nothing to detract from her elegant beauty. “How do you know what I’ve been doing?”

“He told me,” Neil declared triumphantly.

“Who?”

“MidniteCowboy.”

“Oh, my God!”

Oh, yeah, payback was such a bitch.

Chapter 32/End—NC-17

“Neil, please don’t do this.”

He finished tying the last of the silk scarves around her wrists and her ankles, making sure her limbs were comfortable but secure. “It’s only fair.”

“Hurting me won’t make you feel better, Neil. I know. I’ve done it. You think it will. But it never does.”

Neil straightened up and gave Madeline an exasperated look, a lock of dark blond hair falling over his forehead for punctuation.

“I have no intention of hurting either of us, Maddy.”

“Then what are you doing?”

“Taking back what belongs to me.”

“Neil, please don’t force me.”

“I won’t have to.” Neil smiled. “I want what you were so willing to give him.”

“I don’t know what he told you, Neil, but that’s not the way it was. I didn’t offer anyone anything that I haven’t given you.”

“Liar. You gave him a spontaneous act of love. You’ve never given me that.”

“You’re jealous!” she exclaimed.

He closed his eyes as pain surged through him at the thought of someone else possessing what was his. She was right. He was jealous. Worse, he was angry. At himself. He’d started this, and he would finish it. But in the end, would they hate each other?

All this time, Madeline had been taking Neil and his love for granted. He was acceptable background noise. Eventually it became a vicious cycle. She ignored him, and he stopped trying to get her attention. But now…now that he knew what she was still capable of, he was furious that she let someone else feel that passion. His head ached. He knew that they had not really betrayed each other. Somehow, God saw fit to inject yet a little more irony into their lives. They thought they had found kindred spirits in the Ethernet. They had. But they had found only themselves.

Neil looked as though he’d been struck by lightning. He had no right to extract revenge from Madeline, or at least, no more than she had. They were equally guilty. The only difference was that Madeline didn’t know it.

“Maddy?” Neil spoke his wife’s name hoarsely, knowing he could very well be unleashing a fury far beyond anything he had seen before.

Her bittersweet chocolate eyes traveled over Neil’s face almost lovingly. He tried to absorb what that meant. It meant something. She…*liked* the fact that he was jealous. Like a child constantly testing limits, she had succeeded in doing something so outrageous that Neil could not help but notice. It might not have been her conscious intention, but…God, they were both pathetic.

Suddenly anxious to undo what he had done, Neil began to work furiously at the bonds that held Madeline. When one hand was free, she touched his face, with tenderness, not anger. “Don’t.”

He blinked. “Wh-what?” He stared at her, his dark blue eyes made even darker by the burden of pain he shouldered.

She indicated the wrist he had freed. “You’ve never done anything like this before, Neil. Don’t stop now.”

Neil looked incredulous. “You want me to--?”

“Don’t you want to? I think you need to.”

“What are you saying, Maddy? That all this time you’ve been waiting for me to lose control?”

“Maybe. Just a little bit.”

“But you’ve never given me any hint that—“

“That what I really wanted was for you to take charge of me?” Madeline smiled faintly. “I’ve been able to intimidate virtually everyone I’ve ever known, Neil. When I first met you, I thought what I needed was security, and you gave me that.”

“But?”

“But it wasn’t enough. Once I felt secure, I started to feel like…” She paused, lost in thought, and Neil interrupted.

“If you tell me I was boring you, I—“ Neil didn’t know what he would do if she said that. He thought he might die.

“No,” she said softly. “I was lucky, Neil. When I found you, I found an equal. I didn’t think I would ever find someone I couldn’t dominate easily. But I did.”

“I don’t see myself that way, Maddy.”

“You wouldn’t. But it’s true. From the very beginning, you’ve given as good as you get. Then…things changed.” She stroked his cheek with one slender finger, and he closed his eyes, focused completely on her touch.

“I screwed up,” he stated flatly.

She shook her head, then realized that he couldn’t see the gesture. She tapped the side of his face gently, and he opened his eyes. “You let me have whatever I wanted,” she said sadly.

“I loved you,” he protested.

She winced at the sound of the past tense on his lips. “I started pushing you. Maybe I just wanted to see how far I could go before you would stop me. I don’t know.” She raised tortured dark eyes to his face. “Oh, Neil, you stopped pushing back.”

Tears came unbidden into his eyes. “And now I’ve lost you.”

“No…you finally became angry enough to try to dominate me. You were winning, Neil. Don’t stop now.”

He leaned over and kissed her. She could taste his tears on his lips. It should have been a kiss that would make both of them forget what they nearly gave up. But it was goodbye. She could feel it.

“Neil! Don’t you dare leave me, you son-of-a-bitch,” she swore in a loud whisper.

“You need to know the rest, Maddy.” Oh, God, he was going to do it. He was going to sacrifice himself on the altar of guilt, and he would spend the rest of his days a broken, lonely man.

“I don’t know why you haven’t asked me before now, but…the reason I know what you did as MidnightRider is because…I’m MidniteCowboy.”

He didn’t know what reaction he had expected, but laughter wasn’t it.

“Maddy? Did you hear me? I said I’m—“

“Yes, Neil, I know.” She continued to laugh, and for once in her life, she enjoyed her own laughter, instead of feeling like it was trapped there beneath the cool, elegant facade she wore like armor.

“I—you know?”

She nodded. “For someone like me, it wasn’t that difficult to figure out.”

“But—“ Neil’s face drained of all color. “You’re not upset?”

“You chose me, Neil. How could I be upset with a man who feels jealous of himself?”

“I would always choose you, Maddy. I love you.” With that, he buried his face in her long dark brown hair.

***

Faith and Connor stood outside the master bedroom, listening for signs of violence.

“I don’t hear anything, Connor. Maybe they made up.”

“Maybe they killed each other, Fee. You didn’t hear them!”

Faith touched the doorknob, her hand freezing there. “We can’t just barge in, Connor. Grown-ups really hate when you do that. Trust me on this.”

“Wouldn’t you want someone to barge in and save you, if you were being held by a madman?”

A curious twinkle entered Faith’s now bright green eyes. “That depends on who the madman is. Is it you?”

All the spit in his mouth dried up. Faith was looking at him in that special way she had. Just like years ago. When they were little kids in the throes of first love with each other.

“Pooh….” Connor’s nickname sounded perfectly at home on Faith’s lips now. How could he object?

“Can we still be best friends?” she asked.

Just best friends? he wanted to ask, but he controlled himself. He always asked for too much, and he was constantly disappointed.

“I dunno, Tig. You know how I feel about you. Does it still bother you? Cause I don’t think…I know it’s not going to be change.”

“Well…” Faith drawled out, grabbing Connor’s hand in hers. She swung their intertwined hands back and forth several times, her face so bright and sunny that she could have rivaled Emmy for once.

“I think we’re both sorta too young for undying love, Pooh, but…I want you back. I don’t want you to run off and find a new best friend, Pooh.”

“Maybe you’ll change your mind when you get a little older, Tigger.”

“Maybe you will, too, Pooh.”

“Can I kiss you, Tig?” he whispered, spellbound at the sight of their hands. Together.

Her changeable eyes danced. “I think you’d better, Pooh. Just to seal the deal, of course.”

“Of course,” he replied hoarsely. She was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, and he knew right then that he would never stop hoping that they could be together forever.

The moment Connor’s lips touched hers, Faith felt like something in her universe shifted. Not off-balance. But it was as if she had finally found the missing piece of a jigsaw puzzle. It settled into its rightful place with a certain inevitability. She couldn’t explain it, but she felt like more than she was before.

“I’d better go home. Mom and Dad will be worried if I’m out after dark.” I love you, Connor.

“I’ll walk you back.” I love you, too, Faith. Always have. Always will.

She inclined her head towards the bedroom door. “Still think they’re fighting?”

Connor shrugged. “Nah.”

***

They weren’t fighting. But it was a struggle of sorts. Neil’s instinctive reaction was to cover Madeline with softness, but she didn’t want that. She wanted the man she had gotten a glimpse of the night before.

“Take what you want, Neil,” she exhorted.

“Are you sure?”

She bit his earlobe and sighed her assent.

“I might muss your perfect hair,” he said with a grin, starting to enjoy his new role. He would always be her protector, but there was something to be said for acting the occasional warrior prince.

“Take me, dammit,” she said, straining to get closer to his now naked body.

He sucked her lower lip into his mouth, nibbling and chewing on it determinedly until it was quite swollen. He felt a freedom he had never had before. He wanted to explore her entire body and claim each and every part of it.

“You don’t give the orders around here,” he said, the only sign that he was not being deliberately hurtful, a suspicious sparkle in his eyes.

“Please?” she whimpered.

He licked the side of her face, savoring the smooth texture of it with his tongue. He would never have dared to do this before. Why, the very thought of Maddy with drool on her face made him want to laugh.

Her wrists and ankles remained tied, her body exposed and vulnerable to his sensual assault. He whispered in her ear what he wanted to do to her, and she groaned. “Oh, my God, Neil….”

His lips made their way lower, stopping to swirl not so gently around the rigid nipple of her left breast. She felt his teeth, and the peremptory tug he gave her was almost enough to force her climax upon her.

“You never…” she gasped out.

But I will, from now on, he thought. He had never thought to take Madeline this way. Ever solicitous of her, he had pushed down his own desire until it was barely measurable anymore. But no more. They both wanted this.

He slid a hand between her legs. She was so hot, so wet, so…ready.

Probing at the entrance to her femininity, he fingered the tiny rosebud nestled within the dark curls. “Neil! Do it! Please!”

“Is this what you want, Maddy?” He poised his hardened length just outside the heart of her, just enough so that she could feel him. Hot, slick, throbbing.

“Yes!”

“Just checking,” he said with a chuckle, amazed that he was enjoying teasing her so much.

With a grunt that was totally unlike him, Neil entered her with one hard thrust. Normally, he would wait for her to adjust to him, but all bets were off now.

He began to stroke, hard and deep, and Madeline’s soft but insistent cries told him that he was in the right place.

Suddenly aware that this was so much more than making love, Neil claimed her again and again, striving toward the pinnacle.

“Maddy!” he yelled.

Certain that he was going to declare how much he loved her, Madeline smiled, a satisfied smile that stretched from head to toe. “Yes, Neil?” she asked dreamily.

He gave her a rakish grin. “This is about to get really messy!”

Realizing what he meant, she began to laugh. He was tweaking her need to be in control as well as her need to make everything perfect. “I’ll get over it,” she replied.

He took her with such abandon, she couldn’t help but follow him over the edge. He collapsed atop her body, panting and out of breath. He could feel something warm and wet between her legs as his seed leaked from her body. Her body continued to vibrate with fine little tremors under him.

In the past, he might have pulled out immediately, severing their bond as quickly as possible, knowing that Madeline would need to race into the bathroom and cleanse herself of the remnants of their lovemaking. He had never realized just how much that hurt. That she felt compelled to erase what he did to her.

Just thinking about that sped up the way he softened inside her. “I should get off,” he murmured, but she surprised him by holding him fast. “No, stay. Please, Neil?”

“But you never—“

But I will, from now on. I never knew it could feel this good to go spiraling out of control. The exhilaration is almost…too much.

Propping himself on his elbows, he allowed his slightly sweaty body to rest lightly on hers. “Maddy, I love you. And I’ll keep loving you, even if we never did this again.”

Knowing Neil needed some sort of a gesture to make him believe that things had truly changed, Madeline reached down between their bodies and touched herself. He looked down to see her taste the mingling of their essences. Rendered speechless for the moment, he could only stare, transfixed, as she touched her fingers to his lips, allowing him to taste them, too.

“Maddy….”

If there were worse things than getting messy, he would have sworn that Madeline didn’t know what they were. But this, this erotic gesture was so much more than that. It bespoke an acceptance of their relationship, emotional and physical, that went beyond anything they had settled for before.

“I love you, Neil.”

I can see that now.

He kissed her tenderly. Now he could surround her with softness.

End