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Reel it back in,Dean.
Nope. Can’t do it.
Fuck.
Of all the gin joints, right? Tanner is the last person I expected to see tonight. I was wrapping up a visit with my old friend, Mac, the owner of Rise and Shine, when the main topic of our discussion barreled into me.
After a hearty dinner of his signature meatloaf and mashed potatoes, I was ready to roll out of this place on a full stomach and head home to catch the ESPN recaps of the Rockies game.
Yeah, I know. They aren’t the greatest team in the MLB, but it’s the home team. Can you blame me?
It’s only been a handful of weeks since I last saw the boy, and he looks miserable. I wasn’t kidding about the shadows under his eyes. The purplish bruises are so wide and dark that they’re nearly black. His eyelids sag as if he’s struggling to even blink.
Tanner looks like a haggard mess in his rumpled clothing. Work clothes if I were to wager a guess. The sight of him nearly sends me through the roof. It’s almost eight in the evening. What the hell is he doing working so late?
“Sorry for bumping into you, Dean.” He attempts to skirt around me. “I’m running late and just need to grab a coffee to go.”
“Coffee? At this time of night?” I raise an eyebrow at him.
“I have a last-minute case. If I don’t have it, I won’t be able to make it there safely,” Tanner snaps, fisting his hands at his sides in defiance.
Oh, my poor baby boy.
A day hasn’t gone by without Tanner on my mind. Whether working around the house, tinkering with my bike, or fulfilling my role as DM at The Garden, he’s fluttered around my head, refusing to let go.
I was so damn sure I was perfectly fine without a boy in my life until I met Tanner. I don’t know what kind of chokehold spell he placed on me, but all I’ve been able to do is wonder about him.
I would’ve been fine to live my life single. But Tanner Morgan sleepily tripped his way into my path, and I wouldn’t want it any other way.
Every waking hour is filled with precious memories of our night together, the regret of letting him go without asking for his number, and multitudes of worries.
How’s he doing? Is he safe? Has he managed to find a balance in his routine to make sure his needs are met?
“You’re still working?” The answer is staring me in the face. Several hours later than most of the working class would consider normal, peering at me beneath long lashes, eyes clouding with unshed tears.
Damn it.
Tanner nods miserably. “I was handed a case before I could leave the office. I need to be on the other side of Aurora in an hour.”
Something to the side catches my attention. Lifting my gaze, I see Mac holding up a plastic to-go bag and a large travel cup in his hands. He raises an eyebrow and then glances at the boy still in my grip.
Thank the heavens for Mac. Silent stoicism aside, he’s attentive and caring, a Daddy who anticipates needs without words. I send him a mouthed thanks over Tanner’s head, then glance at my boy, who looks seconds away from breaking down.
“Have you eaten anything today?”
His cheek hollows on one side before he answers, “I had a granola bar and a cup of yogurt for lunch. But that was hours ago.”
“That’s not enough to keep you going.”
“Yeah, probably not. Listen, Dean,” he says with a sigh. “I appreciate your concern, but Ireallyneed to get out of here.”
“What you need is someone to take care of you, boy,” I grit out, desperately trying to rein in my irritation.
He stubbornly takes a half-step back, but not enough to fully break my hold on him. “I already told you I don’t have time for this.Please.”
His words say one thing, but everything else in this boy says another. His gaze is firmly focused on my face, eyes pleading with unspoken need. Tanner is defiant, his posture stiff and combative, but only from the outside. To someone who doesn’t know better.
While his back is straight and his fists clench at his sides, Tanner is slightly leaning into me, vibrating with need beneath my palms. His body screams for help, but Tanner adamantly holds back his voice.
