Gideon felt a laugh bubbling up.“God, Trish, I really love you.In case I don’t say it enough.”
She laughed, and he set his phone on the table as requested.
And then spent dinner telling them about Joey Carlyle.
He skipped the worst parts—he held enough dinner parties to know what made a good story.The gory details about the dog?Out.Joey’s choice of the dog cup for Crosby?Definitely in.Joey, doing a backflip off a building onto a giant inflatable fireman’s airbag?Oh yes, that story got told.Gideon dragging him back to the apartment to fuck him senseless?No, that would stay private.But his father wasn’t a stupid man—and Dad knew what it was like to love somebody and to worry.
“That must have been a little hard on your heart, though, right, son?”
Gideon took a sip of wine before he answered.“We had a talk,” he underplayed.“I asked him not to scare me like that again.”
They both nodded.“And so he’s texting you when he can tonight,” Trish said perceptively.“Good.Let us know what you hear.I really can’t wait to meet him.”
“I warn you, though,” Gideon said, figuring this woman could take it, “he’s sort of… care resistant.”
Trish snorted wine all over herself, making Gideon and his father jump in surprise, and she was still chuckling as she wiped her face and her blouse with a napkin.“Really, Gideon?You’d choose somebody care resistant as a mate?Becauseyouwere apussycat.”
Gideon, remembering his reserve, his careful attempts not to get attached, not to hug too tightly, not to show this woman too much affection, not to welcome her into his little bubble of existence, right up until he left for deployment and realized she was weeping on his shoulder and holding him too tightly to not hold her back, gave her a sheepish grimace.
“He’s younger than I am,” he said with dignity.“We’re all stupid when we’re young.”
That made her laugh harder, and Gideon glanced at his father to see that baffled, melty expression on Gerald Chadwick’s face, and his eyes grew suddenly bright.
Trish would have Joey Carlyle eating out of her hand.
Bidding them goodbye the morning of the twenty-sixth was both really difficult and a profound relief.He’d come to cherish—truly—the peace of their home, the haven of kindness, of grace that they’d created.
But his last text from Joey had come at 5:00 a.m.It had said, simply,Almost there.And Gideonneededto be where that text came from.
It was dark by the time he got to his apartment, his bones aching from the long train ride so hard on the heels of the one on the twenty-third.Still he moved carefully, opening the door to his apartment quietly but not silently.Making sure his keys clattered as he dropped them in the bowl by the door.Turning on the light in the kitchen as he passed by so nobody who slept with his knife under his pillow would be startled when he woke up.
But the light from the kitchen allowed him to see that Joey was still sleeping, curled on the couch under what looked like a battered, sap-stained fur coat.His boots stood sentinel at the foot of the couch, and his head was pillowed on his duffel, while the throw pillows littered the floor.
With a surprised grunt, Gideon dropped his duffel by the couch and knelt down beside him, murmuring his name softly.He’dloveto do the Sleeping Beauty thing and kiss him, but that was a good way to find a knife in his jugular before Joey Carlyle was quite awake.
“Joey, baby, how long you been here?”
Joey grunted.“Are we using endearments now?”he asked.“Did this clear committee?”
“Fuck off, Carlyle,” Gideon told him, but he was relieved.That sort of talk-back couldn’t happen if he was irreparably damaged, either emotionallyorphysically.
Joey’s eyes opened, and he yawned and sat up, arching his back like a cat.“Endearments are a go,” he said, reaching out to feather a touch along Gideon’s cheek.“God, is it dark already?How lateisit?”
“Six o’clock,” Gideon said, taking Joey’s invitation to squeeze in next to him.“How long have you been sleeping?”
Joey grunted, and then shocked the hell out of Gideon by resting his head on Gideon’s shoulder.“Since around noon.I had to find someplace to house the bike—”
“Bike?”
“Motorcycle,” Joey said through a yawn, “and then go visit my own apartment so I’d show up on video.I showered and repacked, changed my jacket and put on a different hat.”He let out a sigh, and his hand went to the rumpled cashmere scarf at his throat.“Couldn’t bear to part with this, though.You may have to peel it off my neck in April.So warm.”
Gideon let out a rusty chuckle.“I’ll get you another one.”He wrapped his arm around Joey’s shoulders and held him close.“That’s some nap.”
“First sleep I got since we left town,” Joey confessed.
“I thought you found a hotel!”Gideon asked, dismayed.
“Yeah, caught a couple hours there, but….”Joey’s shoulders twitched.“Too close to Dad and not close enough to here.Can’t explain it.Had to leave.”
