Page 69 of Point of Contact

Trevor looked at the picture, at his son’s mirth-filled eyes, his grin, and all his jealousy and anger immediately melted away.

“He looks so happy.”

“We had so much fun that trip. So much fun.”

“I’m glad,” Trevor said, and meant it. “I’m glad he had that time with you, and that he died with those happy memories still fresh in his mind.” He grimaced. “Hanging out with a couple of old dudes in Boston wouldn’t have compared, I guess.”

Jesse’s eyes were soft with compassion. “He wanted to see you, please believe that. He just didn’t want to come between you and Carl so close to the wedding, make you choose between them.”

Trevor thought about that, how in his mind there was no choice to make and how that might have negatively impacted his and Carl’s relationship. It was just like Riley to take all that into consideration, and act accordingly. He certainly hadn’t planned on being killed a few short weeks later...

“I get it.” Trevor scrubbed his hands over his face. “He was just a kid. A kid who’d been to war. Who am I to second-guess any of his choices? Of course when he got a chance to have some fun, he’d take it.” Looking at Jesse ruefully, he said, “I’m sorry. Once again I’ve managed to make myself into an emotional nightmare. I swear I didn’t come over for that, and if you want me to fuck off, I will.”

“Nope, no need to fuck off.” With a shake of his head, Jesse sank back down in his recliner and put the footrest up. “Although I may fall asleep on you.”

“Do it.”

Trevor stretched out on Jesse’s couch himself, getting comfortable and peering more closely at the picture. In it Riley and Jesse were both wearing khaki shorts topped with loud Hawaiian shirts, which hung open to the waist. They had flower leis around their necks, along with a myriad of cheap-looking shell necklaces. Jesse had a pair of sunglasses shoved to the top of his head, while Riley’s were hanging from one of the necklaces.

Trevor traced his fingers wistfully over his son, cataloging the differences. He looked older, his face more angular than Trevor remembered, every trace of baby fat long since melted away. His body was whipcord lean, and he sported a rakish five o’clock shadow, his green eyes crinkled at the corners as he grinned at the camera.

“He looks so much like you, Larissa,” Trevor whispered. “So much like you.”

He rarely spared Riley’s mother a thought anymore, although he’d flirted with the idea of trying to contact her when Riley died, just as swiftly dismissing it. To Trevor’s knowledge she hadn’t once attempted to find them after driving away with her boyfriend so long ago, and Trevor had her parental rights severed at the earliest opportunity, feeling nothing but relief.

God, you missed out, Liss.

He could almost hear her reply. But at least I’m not suffering the way you are now, am I?

But I’d do it all again, Larissa. In a heartbeat. I got to have him for twenty years and don’t regret one single minute of it.

Trevor stared at the picture, ashamed of his outburst of selfishness a few moments ago, and fiercely glad Riley’d gotten to experience something so amazing before he died.

The recliner creaked as Jesse shifted, and he let out a soft snore. Trevor glanced over at him, smiling at his slack mouth, the way his head lolled to the side—wow, he was out cold. He picked up the photo again, this time focusing on Jesse. Taller than Riley by a few inches, his shoulders were broader, tapering down into a trim waist and narrow hips. The khaki shorts rode low, so low the waistband of Jesse’s underwear peeked out over the top.

The Hawaiian shirt he was wearing had slid off one shoulder, revealing a muscled chest and a firm brown nipple, along with a light dusting of blond hair on his pecs. Trevor swallowed hard, glancing over at Jesse racked out on his chair. One arm was thrown over his head, his T-shirt riding up to reveal that dark blond treasure trail that drew the eyes down to—

Jesus. Trevor pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut. There was no question Jesse was an absolutely beautiful man, but Trevor shouldn’t be ogling him in his sleep like some old pervert...

Feeling restless, he got up and wandered around the small living room, renewed curiosity about Jesse’s life surging through him. Unfortunately there wasn’t a whole lot in the way of personal items displayed, except for one small framed photograph tucked up high on a bookshelf. Glancing at Jesse, Trevor reached for it and pulled it down for a closer look.

It was a family picture, obviously taken in a studio, old-school style—sideways, all in a row, with the man in back, his wife in front of him and their child in front of her. Jesse looked to be maybe ten, his hair a cap of shining blond, his cheeks plump with baby fat.

His parents were quite a bit older than Trevor would’ve expected, and he winced, thinking about Jesse losing them both at such a young age. No wonder he was so sensitive to Trevor’s grief, every action displaying that innate understanding and accompanied by a deep well of patience that Trevor suspected was just a natural part of him.

Jesse stirred again, interrupting Trevor’s thoughts. Trevor put the picture away and grabbed a blanket folded along the back of the couch before tiptoeing over to drape it across Jesse carefully.

“You’re amazing,” he whispered to him. “I’m so glad Riley had you for a friend.”

Trevor went back to the sofa to stretch out on his side, and he lay there watching Jesse sleep.

* * *

Jesse noticed the crick in his neck first, and he sat up with a groan, completely disoriented for a moment until he caught sight of Trevor opposite him on the couch. Memory rushed back, of Jesse’s blunder and Trevor’s soul-deep pain, his own helplessness and confusion in the face of it.

Jesus, Riley, I thought you’d have told him about Hawaii!

Why the fuck hadn’t he? Was it because he’d known his dad would be hurt and upset about his choice to vacation with Jesse instead of making the effort to come see him? Jesse grimaced, remembering how hard Riley’d tried to rationalize his decision to him there at Bagram. Despite his otherwise impressive emotional maturity, in the end he’d acted like a typical young man with his eye on a good time, probably figuring he’d be able to smooth everything over with his dad once he was home for good. How could he have known...?