LA Witt Rules of Engagement 2 Rain

Rain | L.A. Witt

Chapter 1

HYTHMIC

rainfall tapped my office window, the gentle

monotony adding to my late afternoon fatigue. I pushed a
stack of exams aside and leaned back in my chair as I
rubbed my tired eyes. Two more weeks of giving and grading
tests, and then this semester would be over, and not a
moment too soon.

I glared at the exams. When I was sure the bastards

weren‟t going to grade themselves, I sat up and picked up my
red pen once again. As soon as I started reading, though, the
words on the page started to run like rain sliding down glass.

A Red Bull. That‟s what I needed. Maybe two.

I didn‟t have any change in my pocket for the vending

machine, so I leaned down to fish around in my desk drawer.

Come on, come on, I know I saw a few quarters in here

the other day. There has—

Someone knocked. I rolled my eyes, cursing under my

breath. I didn‟t have any student appointments this
afternoon, so whoever this was, they‟d better hope it was
quick.

“It‟s open.” I continued rifling around for change as the

door opened. I wasn‟t out to be rude, but damn it, I needed
that Red Bull stat.

Rain | L.A. Witt

“Dr. Stewart?”

My hand stopped moving. It was a stranger‟s voice, but

something about it was familiar enough to make my blood
run cold. When I looked up, even colder.

The family resemblance was undeniable. The same dark

hair and darker eyes. The same sharply angled jaw and
chiseled cheekbones. The same broad shoulders, which were
currently bunched with tension beneath a brown leather
jacket.

“Yes, I‟m Dr. Stewart.” I sat up and swallowed hard.

“Can I help you?”

He closed the door behind him and leaned against it.

“Yeah, I….” He paused, setting his jaw and looking me in the
eye. “I‟m Tristan Walker.” Another pause. “Dustin‟s brother.”

The introduction wasn‟t necessary. He was a couple of

inches taller than my boyfriend and lacked the goatee, but
he was as close to a doppelganger as any twin could have
been.

We looked at each other in silence for a moment. He

didn‟t extend a hand. Neither did I.

I cleared my throat. “This is… unexpected.”

Tristan shifted his weight. He put his hands in his

pockets and stared at the floor. “Yeah, I—” He paused,
looking at me. “I haven‟t caught you at a bad time, have I?”

“No, no, now is fine.” I pushed the exams aside and

gestured at the chair in front of my desk. “Nothing that can‟t
wait. Please, have a seat.” My heart pounded. So much for
needing that emergency Red Bull.

Rain | L.A. Witt

He hesitated for a moment before accepting my

invitation. The muffled squeak of his leather jacket was the
only sound in the room as Tristan eased himself into the
chair situated on the other side of my desk. Most of the
teachers and professors here had their guest chair at the end
of the desk. I preferred to have people sitting across from me,
and my rather cramped office didn‟t allow for the more
traditional configuration anyway.

Now, with my boyfriend‟s estranged brother sitting

across from me, I was more than a little thankful for the
desk between us.

Tristan leaned heavily on the armrest, thumbing his

chin as his eyes darted around my office. I didn‟t speak, just
let him take in his surroundings. I‟d watched a few nervous
students do the same thing during pauses in conversation. I
knew the visual trajectory by heart, and Tristan followed it
just like everyone else did: motivational poster. Bachelor‟s
degree. Doctorate. State-issued teaching certificate. The
plaque from last year‟s faculty billiards tournament.

When he got to the framed photo on the file cabinet, his

lips tightened into a bleached line and he immediately
shifted his gaze to the floor. To anyone else, it was just a
picture of the grinning first- and second-place winners of
another pool tournament.

Tristan knew better. The arm around my shoulders in

the picture was, I had no doubt, why he was here.

I resisted the urge to tap my fingers on my desk. He

unnerved me, and I didn‟t want him to see it. Not until I had
some idea of exactly why he was here. He was impossible to
read just now. Every move he made spoke of tension, but

Rain | L.A. Witt

what kind? Was he hostile? Nervous? I didn‟t know what to
make of his presence. He hadn‟t spoken to his brother in two
years because of our relationship, and here he was in my
office. His quietude could have been from his own
uneasiness, or it could have masked something more
menacing.

The hand stuffed into his jacket pocket made me

nervous. He could be hiding a gun. Another weapon. A
balled-up fist. It wouldn‟t be the first time I‟d gotten a fist in
the face from someone unhappy about his brother‟s
sexuality. To be fair, that angry brother was mine, but I still
didn‟t draw an easy breath, even as Tristan pulled his hand
out of his pocket and laid it across his lap.

The silence was about to drive me insane, so I shifted

slightly and cleared my throat. “Well, this is a surprise. What
can I do for you?”

My voice startled him. His eyes flicked up and met mine

for a fleeting second before he dropped his gaze again.

“Listen, Dr. Stew—”

“Brandon.”

He stiffened slightly. His Adam‟s apple bobbed once and

he fidgeted in his chair. First-name familiarity probably
made him uncomfortable. I couldn‟t say I particularly cared.

“Listen, Brandon,” he said at last, “I… I wanted to talk

to you. About… my brother.”

“I figured as much.” He and Dustin hadn‟t spoken in

two years. Not since he‟d found out we were dating.

Rain | L.A. Witt

Drumming his fingers on the armrest, he looked me in

the eye with what seemed like a tremendous effort. “I
understand you and Dustin are getting….” He trailed off.
Cleared his throat. Shifted in his chair. “That you‟re….”

“Engaged?”

He grimaced. “Yeah. I guess that‟s the word.”

I shrugged. “Engaged, getting married, doing a

commitment ceremony.” I narrowed my eyes and couldn‟t
quite resist injecting some ice into my voice as I added,
“Whatever option hasn‟t been denied us by society‟s
collective disgust.”

He leaned back in the chair and ran a hand through his

hair—exactly the way Dustin often did—before looking me in
the eye again. “Okay, so, apparently this… what you guys….
It‟s not…” He swallowed. “Not temporary, I guess.”

“After two years, you‟re just now assuming it‟s not

temporary?”

“Sorry,” he growled. “It‟s not exactly an easy thing to get

my head around.”

I raised an eyebrow. “My apologies,” I said through my

teeth.

Tristan sighed and broke eye contact, looking past me

instead of at me. “How did—” He paused, his lips suddenly
twisting into a scowl before he dropped his gaze to the desk
between us. That photo must have caught his eye again.
Focusing on something presumably safer—the neglected
stack of exams, probably—he went on. “How did he not know
all that time? That he was gay?” He pursed his lips and

Rain | L.A. Witt

shook his head. “Twenty-eight years old and he suddenly
figures out he‟s into men? I don‟t get it.”

I shrugged. “I seem to recall he was busy for most of the

preceding decade being the faithful half of a fucked-up
marriage.”

“Okay, but—”

“Listen, your brother‟s sexuality isn‟t up for debate.” I

folded my hands on my desk and leaned forward, inclining
my head slightly. “I assume there‟s a reason you went to the
trouble of finding me and coming into my office?”

He was silent for a moment. “When are you guys—” He

paused. Swallowed. “Getting married?”

“We‟re not sure yet. Still making plans.”

His eyes narrowed. “This is going to kill my mother.”

I fought to keep from rolling my eyes. “And the cold

silence from half his family hasn‟t been killing your brother
for the last couple of years?”

He flinched and dropped his gaze. Blowing out a breath,

he rubbed the back of his neck. When he looked at me again,
I expected anger and hostility, but nothing of the sort met
my eyes. He looked nothing if not… pained.

“Look,” he said quietly. “I don‟t really even know why I

came. I….”

“That makes two of us.” I hadn‟t intended to sound quite

so cold that time, but I didn‟t apologize for it. His presence
still made me uneasy, and his intentions were still unclear.
The defenses were staying up until he gave me reason to
drop them.

Rain | L.A. Witt

“Maybe I was too quick to blow Dustin off,” he said

quietly. “I thought….” He looked down. Ran a hand through
his hair again. Then he blew out a breath and looked at me
again. “Could I ask a favor?”

I cocked my head. “What favor?”

He pursed his lips. “Would you just ask Dustin to give

me a call?”

I blinked. “I, um, yeah. Yeah, I can do that.” I wet my

lips. “Does he have your number?”

“It hasn‟t changed,” he said. “But just in case, let me

give it to you.”

I pushed a pen and notepad across the desk. Tristan

quickly scribbled his number down and handed it back to
me.

“I‟ll pass the message on to him.” I folded the piece of

paper in half and held it between my fingers. “Can‟t promise
he‟ll call.”

Tristan nodded. “Well, I hope he does.” He rose, his

leather jacket creaking with the slow, tentative motion.
“That‟s, um, that‟s really all I came for.”

“Okay.” For lack of anything else to say, I gestured with

the piece of paper with his phone number on it and said
again, “I‟ll pass it on.”

“Thanks.”

We looked at each other in silence for a long, awkward

moment. Neither of us made any move toward a parting
handshake.

Rain | L.A. Witt

Tristan took a step back. Then another. Without a word,

he left, and when the door closed behind him, I released my
breath and leaned back in my chair. Absently, I pulled
Dustin‟s dog tags, which he‟d given to me early in our
relationship, out from under my shirt and ran them along
the chain.

Well, that was weird.

Staring at the ceiling, I tried to make sense of our

bizarre encounter. Though several of his comments, not to
mention his estrangement from Dustin, spoke of ignorance
and bigotry, there was something genuine about him. About
his desire to get in touch with his brother. And, more than
that, his regret about where their relationship stood now.

It was odd that he‟d gone to the trouble to find me and

taken the time to drive halfway across town to the
community college where I worked. All of that effort, when he
could have simply asked Kari or Rick for their brother‟s
phone number. He could have gone by the gym where Dustin
had worked back then and still worked now.

He could have, but he didn‟t. He came to me.

Maybe in his mind, all I‟d been was this nebulous

someone, a nameless face he once saw in a grainy,
incriminating photo from a camera phone. The reason for the
fissure between two brothers who‟d been close all their lives.
The catalyst.

It occurred to me that he might have shown up

intending to confront me but backed down once we were in
the same room. Once he could no longer deny that I was
real.

Rain | L.A. Witt

Surprise, Tristan. I’m human.

I clicked the dog tags together between my fingers and

looked at the piece of paper on my desk. This was going to
catch Dustin off guard, that was for sure. The loss of his
relationship with his brother was a wound that had only just
begun to heal. I didn‟t know if this would help heal it, or if it
would reopen it.

Tristan must have heard about our engagement from

one of their other siblings. I knew their mother had caught
wind of it, and to say the least, she wasn‟t happy about it.
Our engagement had only served to drive another wedge
between Dustin and his mother, but maybe it had the
opposite effect on Tristan.

I dropped the tags back under my shirt. Sighing, I

picked up the piece of paper and tucked it into my wallet.
Our relationship had created more than its fair share of
ripples in Dustin‟s life. It had been touch and go for a while,
but he‟d adjusted. We‟d adjusted. When we decided to make
this a more permanent arrangement, the ripples started
again. Those who‟d managed to ignore us suddenly wouldn‟t,
and those who‟d accepted us suddenly weren‟t so sure.
Putting a pair of gold bands on our fingers was evidently as
horrifying as putting handcuffs on each other in the
bedroom.

I rolled my eyes and put my wallet in my back pocket.

Fucking prudes. Oh well. At least they didn‟t know

about the handcuffs.

Rain | L.A. Witt

Chapter 2

Y SEVEN

o‟clock that night, I still hadn‟t gotten to that pile

of exams. They were in my briefcase, which was on the
couch where I usually sat when I worked at home. I‟d get to
them tonight. Eventually.

For now, I was in the dining room. Or at least the room

the realtor had described as a dining room. I supposed most
respectable people would have had a table or some such
nonsense in this room. And we did have a table in here. One
covered with green felt, but a table nonetheless.

Bank the twelve off the side at a fifty-degree angle to hit

the nine just left of center. Drop the nine in the corner pocket.

I hit the cue, and just as I‟d predicted, the twelve

bounced off the side, hit the nine, and the nine fell into the
corner pocket with a satisfying thunk. I scowled. Though I‟d
made the shot, it wasn‟t as clean as I‟d expected. The twelve
had hit too far off center on the nine, and the nine had
grazed the side of the pocket before falling. Still a point, but
far sloppier than I liked.

I cursed under my breath as I put some chalk on my

cue. It was a good thing I was just practicing tonight. My
mind wasn‟t on the game at all, and this was the kind of
night the players at the club lived for. I hadn‟t lost a game
there in three weeks, so it was just as well I‟d stayed home
tonight.

Rain | L.A. Witt

I stood back and eyed the table, looking for my next

shot.

Seven into the ten, bank—

The crunch of a key in a door broke what was left of my

concentration. I stood, laying my cue across the table as the
front door opened.

“Hey you,” Dustin said with a smile.

“Hey.” I returned the smile. Even the knot in my gut

couldn‟t stop my stomach from fluttering the way it did every
time he walked through that door. Ah, you’re here.

He draped his jacket over a chair. Then he put a hand

on my face and kissed me lightly. Glancing at the table, he
said, “So who‟s winning?”

I rolled my eyes. “Oh, shut up.”

He chuckled, kissed me one more time, then nodded

toward the kitchen. “I could use a beer. You?”

“Whatever you‟re having.” I followed him into the

kitchen. “So how was your day?”

“Not bad.” He pulled two beers out of the refrigerator

and handed me one. “New client started today.”

“Cute?”

“Eh, not bad, but he‟s a little too ripped for my taste.”

“I thought you liked men who were in shape.”

“I do, as long as that shape isn‟t assisted by a needle.”

He put his hand on my waist and kissed the side of my neck.
His hand slid under my shirt, and my abs tightened at his
feather-light touch. “I like this kind of „in shape‟.”

Rain | L.A. Witt

“I think you‟re biased.”

He shrugged. “Maybe I am.” He kissed me and pulled

his hand free from my shirt. “Actually, I‟ve got another
newbie starting tomorrow too. Caught a glimpse of her today
while Kate was showing her around the gym.” He whistled.
“Brandon, you have got to come by the gym one day while
she‟s there for a session.”

I grinned. “That hot?”

“That hot.”

“Think she‟d be game for a threesome?”

Dustin laughed. “I wish. But, you know, professionalism

and all of that.”

“Like you‟ve never fucked a client.”

He shot me a pointed look. “You don‟t count. I was

already fucking you when you decided to come in as a
„client‟.”

I shrugged. “Still, I was a client.”

He raised an eyebrow. “So you make a habit of letting

your students fuck you over pool tables?” I shivered at the
memory. Dustin chuckled and lifted his beer to his lips.
“That‟s what I thought.”

“Touché.” I sipped my own beer. “But then, I don‟t

usually take my students home to meet my mom, either.”

I thought he was going to come back with something

smart, but the comment made him jump slightly. “Oh,
speaking of whom, I almost forgot. Your mom called earlier.”

“About?”

Rain | L.A. Witt

“Three guesses.”

I groaned and rolled my eyes. “Please tell me the word

„wedding‟ wasn't mentioned.”

He gave an apologetic shrug. “I cannot tell a lie.”

“Fuck.” I groaned again. “What was I thinking, telling

her about it?”

Dustin chuckled. “I told you to stop after three beers

that night, but did you listen to me?”

“Suck my left one.”

“Bite me.”

I laughed and shook my head. “Well, I guess this is

going to be par for the course until after we get married.”

Dustin rolled his eyes. “You know, eloping is getting

more and more tempting by the day.”

“We‟ve been through this. My mom will kill me if her

youngest child has anything less than a big wedding, or at
least a big reception.”

“She does know you‟re a groom, not a bride, right?”

“Doesn‟t matter.” I lifted my beer bottle to my lips,

pausing long enough to add, “If you want to argue about it
with her, be my guest.” I sipped my beer, almost choking as
he gave a theatrical groan. I laughed and set the bottle down.
Slipping my arms around his waist, I said, “Come on, it‟s not
that bad.”

He put his arms around me. “Says you. Wait until the

day after. You‟ll swear up and down we should have just run
off and eloped.”

Rain | L.A. Witt

I laughed. “I think I‟ll be a little busy the day after, don‟t

you?”

Sliding a hand around the back of my neck, he leaned

in to kiss me. “Oh, you‟d better believe it.”

“And it‟s only one day,” I said. “Let me indulge the poor

woman. Besides, any excuse for a party, right?” I smiled, and
in spite of his obvious efforts not to, he did too.

“Okay, fair enough.” He paused, his smile fading a little.

“My mom would probably be the same about the wedding if
she wasn‟t so appalled by the marriage.”

I bit my lip, the knot in my gut tightening and

reminding me of its presence. Speaking of your family,
Dustin….

He quickly cleared his throat, though. “So, anyway, your

mom wants you to call her, and yes, it has to do with
wedding crap.”

“Couldn‟t you have told her I‟d been hit by a chicken

truck and wouldn‟t be able to return her call this side of
Christmas?”

“I suppose I could have.” He laughed. “Instead I played

stupid, said you knew all the wedding details, including a
date—”

“You didn‟t.”

He grinned. “Didn‟t I?”

I glared at him. “Please tell me you didn‟t say we‟d set a

date.”

Rain | L.A. Witt

He chuckled. “Of course not. I did, however, tell her you

would call her back at your earliest convenience.” He
gestured at the phone. “Don‟t make a liar out of me.”

“Bastard.”

“Damn right.” He winked. “So, all of that aside, how was

your day?”

My heart skipped. I cleared my throat. “Oh, you know.

The usual. Prepping for finals, getting through labs….”
Having uncomfortable conversations with someone who’s not
quite sure how he feels about being my brother-in-law. Or my
brother-in-not-quite-law-but-close-enough.

I didn‟t realize I‟d trailed off and broken eye contact

until Dustin lifted my chin with two fingers and looked me in
the eye.

Concern formed two crevices between his eyebrows.

“Something wrong?”

I swallowed. “Your brother came by my office today.”

Dustin cocked his head. The furrow of his brow was

confusion now, not alarm. “Really? I didn‟t even think Rick
knew where—”

“Not Rick.”

His eyes widened then narrowed. “That‟s not funny.”

I put my hands up. “I‟m not kidding.”

“Tristan. Tristan showed up in your office.” He pursed

his lips. “You‟re serious?”

“I wouldn‟t joke about that.”

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Dustin dropped his gaze. After a moment, he looked at

me through his lashes. “What did he want?”

“To talk to you.” I paused. “Well, to me, I guess. But he

wanted me to have you call him.”

“Did he say why?”

“If I‟m not mistaken, he wants to extend an olive

branch.”

Dustin rolled his eyes. “Little late in the game for that.

And why would he come to you instead of me?”

“I don‟t know. Maybe he needed to see me for himself. In

person.” Recalling the unsettling feeling I‟d gotten when
Tristan had stared me down from across my desk, I shivered.

“What‟s wrong?”

“It‟s just, it was… unnerving. Having him there. It

caught me off guard.”

“Yeah, I can imagine,” Dustin muttered. He ran a hand

through his hair and blew out a breath. “Fuck.”

“I do think he genuinely wants to talk to you, though,” I

said. “Yeah, it threw me a bit, having him show up in my
office, but I get the feeling he is legitimately trying to make
peace.”

Dustin set his jaw and shook his head, sudden anger

tightening his lips. “So he‟s extending the olive branch,” he
growled. “Am I obligated to take it? Forgive him so we can
start this shit over again? Not speaking to him hurts, but I‟m
not sure I‟m far enough over it to start speaking to him
again.”

Rain | L.A. Witt

“You‟re not obligated to do anything,” I said quietly. “But

the opportunity is there. Why not at least talk to him?”

“I‟m not sure I want to hear what he has to say.”

“It‟s been eating at you for two years, Dustin. Maybe

this could put it to rest.”

“I‟ve learned to deal with it.”

“It still hurts, though, doesn‟t it?”

Dustin said nothing for a moment. I put my hands on

his shoulders, squeezing gently.

“I know it still hurts,” I said, almost whispering. “You

cringe if anyone even mentions his name. Don‟t tell me it
doesn‟t hurt.”

He sighed. “It does. It definitely does. But I don‟t know if

I can make peace with him any more than I could with my
mom.”

“The difference here is that your mom isn‟t trying to

reconnect with you. For whatever reason, Tristan‟s taken
that first step. Why not hear him out? The worst that could
happen is you end up right where you are now. Not speaking
to him, not involved with each other‟s lives.”

“Or hurt even more after listening to him tell me all the

reasons why I‟m subhuman to him.” He rubbed his eyes with
his thumb and forefinger. “He walked out of my life two years
ago because he couldn‟t accept who I am. Why should I be so
quick to let him walk back in?”

“I guess it just depends on what‟s keeping you from

letting him back in.”

“What do you mean?”

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“Is it because you‟re afraid he‟ll hurt you again, or are

you too proud to forgive him?”

He said nothing.

“I know he hurt you, Dustin.” I stroked his hair and

kissed his forehead. “But you‟ve got an opportunity to
smooth that over.”

He exhaled sharply. After a moment, he looked up,

meeting my eyes. He swallowed hard. “Have you ever tried to
get back in contact with your brother?”

I flinched and dropped my gaze. It had been sixteen

years since my eldest brother and I had spoken.

“Brandon?”

Sighing, I shook my head. “No. No, I haven‟t. But he‟s

also never made any effort to contact me like Tristan did to
contact you today.”

“Fair enough,” he murmured.

“You have the opportunity to mend fences with your

brother. I….” I hesitated, looking away for a moment.

He ran the backs of his fingers across my cheek.

“What?”

Taking a deep breath, I met his eyes again. “A day

hasn‟t gone by that I haven‟t wished for that same
opportunity.”

Dustin swallowed hard. Then he sighed. “I don‟t know.

I….” He trailed off again.

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“You don‟t have to figure it out this minute.” I touched

his face, running my thumb along the edge of his goatee.
“I‟m sure he‟ll understand if you wait a while to call him.”

“Or if I don‟t call him.”

“Or if you don‟t call him,” I said with a nod. “You have

time. For now, why don‟t we come up with something to eat
and relax for a bit tonight?”

He smiled, but it was forced. “Sounds like a plan.”

Rain | L.A. Witt

Chapter 3

EXT

semester, I am so switching to Scantron exams.

I muttered a few four-letter words under my breath and

put the freshly-graded test on the sofa cushion beside me.
One down, twenty-some-odd too many to go. And that was
only for one class. I loved my job, but pouring hydrochloric
acid in my eyes was more appealing than grading papers. It
was part of the job, though, and after a late dinner with
Dustin, I‟d resigned myself to finally getting some of this crap
done.

Concentrating was a challenge tonight, too. Dustin had

been unusually quiet since dinner. I didn‟t have to ask what
was on his mind. From the moment I‟d told him about
Tristan‟s visit, he‟d been on edge, so when he kept to himself
after we‟d cleaned the kitchen, I didn‟t press. I didn‟t
question him when he went out onto the balcony in the
pouring rain. I wasn‟t about to interfere if he needed a little
space and silence to figure things out.

And I needed to finish these damned exams.

The next one in the pile brought another string of curses

to my lips. If the penmanship was anything to go by, this
student was going to be a medical doctor one day. Or a serial
killer.

Rain | L.A. Witt

He‟d be a doctor assuming, of course, he passed

Chemistry 201, and judging by his answers to the first few
questions, that wasn‟t terribly likely. Serial killer, then.

The sliding glass door to the balcony hissed open, then

closed. I looked over my shoulder. Dustin‟s back was turned
as he shrugged out of his rain-soaked jacket and took off his
wet baseball cap.

“You know, you wouldn‟t get wet if you stayed inside,” I

said, testing the water.

“Just needed some air.” His tone was dry. Flat.

Completely devoid of humor.

“You okay?” I asked.

He nodded but neither spoke nor looked at me. Before I

could say anything more, he walked past the couch toward
the bedroom. Putting my stack of ungraded exams aside, I
got up and followed him.

I stepped into the bathroom‟s open doorway as he hung

his jacket over the bathtub to dry. Folding my arms across
my chest, I leaned against the doorframe. “Hey, what‟s up?”

He didn‟t startle at the sound of my voice. Still with his

back to me, he said, “I called Tristan.”

“Oh?” My heart beat a little faster. “And?”

“Left a message.” He ran a hand through his hair, then

scratched the back of his neck. “So he‟ll probably be calling.
Tonight. Or tomorrow.” He shook his head and made a
dismissive gesture. “Sometime.”

I shifted my weight. “So, that‟s a good thing, right? I

mean, it‟s not bad. Is it?”

Rain | L.A. Witt

“I don‟t know.” He blew out a breath and, after a second,

turned around. His lips formed a thin, taut line. The weight
of the world rested in the creases above his eyebrows and the
tension in his bunched shoulders.

“Well, he came to you.” I shrugged with one shoulder. “I

don‟t think he‟d come back into your life, out of the blue,
unless something had changed.”

“Maybe so,” Dustin muttered. He ran a hand through

his hair, then made a sharp, frustrated gesture and looked
at the floor between us. “I just have no idea what to think of
all this. I have no idea how it‟s going to play out. It‟s just so
weird… after all this time… after….” He trailed off and went
quiet, taking and releasing a deep breath but not making
any attempt to finish his thought.

I took a step toward him. “Whatever he says, I don‟t

think he‟ll—”

I stopped when Dustin put his hand up. Then our eyes

met, and the hand that had silenced me rose to touch my
face. His other arm snaked around my waist, and I allowed
myself to be drawn closer.

“I don‟t want to think about him anymore tonight,” he

whispered.

I swallowed hard. “What do you want to think about,

then?”

“You.” With that, he kissed me.

I didn‟t argue. Wrapping my arms around him, I

returned his hungry, demanding kiss. I knew this kiss, and I
knew it well. I knew what he needed tonight, and I was more
than willing to give it to him.

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I grabbed the front of his shirt and took a step back,

dragging him with me. A low growl emerged from his throat,
vibrating against my lips as his kiss intensified with every
step we took.

Paying more attention to each other than things like

balance and gravity, we shuffled and stumbled over feet,
bumping into walls and furniture on our way from the
bathroom to the bedroom. Somehow we got rid of our shoes
and avoided tripping over them in the process, but we made
only lazy attempts to get past belts and buttons.

He pulled me onto the bed on top of him. One hand

tangled in my hair while the other tugged my shirt free from
my belt. When I pressed my erection against his, he groaned
into my kiss and held me tighter.

No matter how much we pulled at clothing, we weren‟t

going to get any of it out of the way unless we let each other
go, even if it was only for a moment. The last thing I wanted
to do was break this kiss or this embrace, but if that was the
price for having Dustin‟s naked body against mine….

We looked into each other‟s eyes, and there was no

mistaking what we both wanted. Without a word, we
separated and stood. My heart beat faster with every piece of
clothing that hit the floor without regard to the nearby
laundry baskets. I pulled Dustin‟s dog tags over my head
and dropped them on the nightstand, the familiar rattle
making my pulse soar.

Our eyes met again. Dustin licked his lips and put his

arms around my waist. His kiss was hungry and desperate,
turning my knees to water.

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When he broke the kiss, we both panted against each

other‟s lips.

“Fuck me.” His voice trembled. “Please.”

I damn near lunged for the nightstand. It didn‟t matter

how long we‟d been together or how many times we‟d had
sex, my need for Dustin defined the phrase “painfully hard.”
Even after all this time, I still physically ached for him. Even
in moments like this when I was seconds away from having
him. Especially in moments like this.

Once the condom was on, I reached for the bottle of

lube.

“On my knees?” he asked.

I nodded. He changed position, and I knelt behind him,

holding his hip with a shaking hand as I guided my cock to
him with the other. I eased into him, as much for my benefit
as his, and by the time I was all the way inside him, my
vision had clouded over. With every stroke, I went a little
further out of my mind, but it wasn‟t enough for him yet.

He rocked back against me, meeting my slow, controlled

strokes and coaxing me into moving faster, faster, a little
faster.

“You want more, don‟t you?” I grinned.

He slammed back against me. “I always want more.”

“Then that‟s what you‟ll have.” I thrust into him, and the

choked sound he made was lost somewhere between pain
and pleasure.

“Am I hurting you?” I asked.

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“Not yet.” He shuddered and took a gasp of breath.

“Harder.”

With pleasure. I fucked him violently, as deep and hard

as I could, exactly the way I knew he wanted it.

“Oh, God, yes,” he moaned. “Just like that.” He shifted

his weight onto one arm. His other shoulder dipped, and a
second later, his elbow rose and fell in time with my thrusts
as he stroked himself.

“Like that?” I asked through gritted teeth. “Tell me—”

“Just like that,” Dustin slurred. “Don‟t stop, don‟t….” He

trailed off into a moan.

My legs burned from exertion, but nothing short of

Armageddon was going to stop me from fucking him like
this.

“Jesus… fuck.” His elbow and shoulder moved faster, so

I tightened my grasp and tried to keep pace with him as he
stroked himself. “That‟s… fucking… perfect….” Every muscle
in his back tensed. Then his breath caught.

And finally, just as my legs were ready to give out, he

threw his head back and roared. That was all it took; before
he‟d even breathed that long, I needed that sigh, I pulled his
hips back against me, driving myself as deep as I possibly
could, and came.

I had just enough left in me to stand, get rid of the

condom, and collapse into bed beside him. My legs ached,
my head was light, and the delicious tingling still lingered at
the base of my spine. As much as I hated it when Dustin was
upset or stressed, I‟d have been lying if I‟d said I didn‟t like
the sex that resulted. It was probably just as well we only

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fucked like this when he needed something to reset his
troubled mind; any more than that, and it would probably
have killed us both.

When I‟d caught my breath, I turned my head toward

him. “Feel better?”

He grinned. “Absolutely.”

“Glad to help.”

“You always do.” He ran a hand through his hair and

exhaled. “Join me for a shower?”

“Definitely.” I wiped sweat from my brow. “Assuming my

legs will hold me up.”

He winked. “If they won‟t, I will.”

Of that I have no doubt, Dustin.

In the bathroom, the sight of his jacket hanging above

the shower mystified me. I remembered him hanging it up,
remembered the conversation that had followed, but had
that really happened tonight? In the same hour as the sex
that had left my legs aching and my head spinning?

So it had.

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Chapter 4

“

OUR

shot.”

“I can‟t believe you missed that one.” Dustin put chalk

on his cue and looked at the table. “I mean, really, Brandon.
I could have—”

“Just take your shot.”

He chuckled, walking around the table and scrutinizing

the available shots. I leaned against the bar at one end of the
dining room.

It was good to see him in a better mood tonight. I had no

doubt that the situation with his brother was still on his
mind. He hadn‟t slept well last night. Neither had I. We were
both physically exhausted by the time we‟d settled in to go to
sleep, but we‟d both done plenty of tossing and turning. That
morning, he was quiet and withdrawn, keeping the world at
arm‟s length. I‟d let him be, knowing he was probably just
preoccupied.

By the time we both got home from work that night, he‟d

relaxed. He‟d probably blown off some steam at the gym in
between working with his training clients. A grueling
workout was his other outlet.

I suppressed a shiver and reached for my drink.

Stressed or not, that man‟s body was a thing of beauty when
he worked out. Hell, it was a thing of beauty anyway, but

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there was something about him when he lifted weights.
Sweating, straining….

The next shiver refused to be suppressed.

“You okay?” Dustin asked.

“Yeah, fine.” I smiled. His brow knitted with skepticism,

but he let the thought go and focused on the game. The cue
ball grazed the twelve and sent it spinning toward—but not
into—the side pocket.

“Oh, goddammit.” He growled a few more curses under

his breath.

I picked up my cue. “I can‟t believe you miss—”

“Shut up.”

We exchanged grins and switched places. He leaned

against the bar and sipped his beer while I looked over the
available shots.

“So, how was your day?” he asked. The small talk was

probably just something to fill the silence besides
conversation about Tristan. He‟d discuss it when he wanted
to. For now, I went along with the small talk.

I lined up my cue. “Same old, same old.” Six directly

between four and twelve. Four in, twelve should stop behind
the eight. “At least I‟ll be teaching some of the more advanced
classes next semester.” No, too easy for the twelve to go in.
Drop the four. Get the six on the next shot. “Some of the
beginning stuff bores me to tears.”

“I can imagine,” Dustin said. “Not that I paid much

attention in chemistry in high school.”

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My cue snapped forward, and the four made a quick,

clean escape down the corner pocket. When I stood, I gave
him a pointed look. “You didn‟t pay attention in my class
either.”

He snickered. “I seem to recall you weren‟t paying much

attention to the material either.”

“I thought I did quite well, considering the distraction in

the front row.” I glared at him, but couldn‟t help laughing
when he put his hands up and gave me an innocent look.

“What? I was just sitting there quietly, minding my

own—”

“Uh-huh.” I leaned down to take my shot. “Sitting there

quietly, dressed like walking temptation.”

“What? Cammies are comfortable.”

I raised an eyebrow, looking across the table at him.

“And the dog tags?”

“Just accessorizing.”

I stood and pulled his dog tags out from under my shirt.

I ran them along the chain, eyeing him as they made that
familiar, spine-tingling rattle. “Quietly accessorizing, right?”

He laughed. “Okay, so maybe it wasn‟t entirely

innocent.”

“Uh-huh.”

He‟d known about my love of military uniforms and dog

tags, which bordered on a fetish, and he‟d capitalized on it.
Sitting in the front row of my classroom in camouflage pants,
combat boots, and the tags I now wore, he‟d posed as a
student and taunted me all through my lecture. The bastard

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knew just how to turn me on, and it was the longest lecture
of my life.

I supposed I‟d deserved it. After all, I had shown up at

his gym the week before under the guise of a potential client
in need of his personal training services, much to his
frustration. And arousal.

Chuckling to myself, I tried to focus on my shot.

Dustin nodded toward the table. “You can‟t complain

too much about that day, though. I seem to recall it ended
with you getting fucked over this very table, so….” He offered
a shrug that was anything but apologetic.

I tried to focus on the game in spite of that memory.

Thank God this shot was a simple one. Cue ball, three, side
pocket.

After the three had dropped, I went around to the other

side of the table. Two, banked off the left, into—

I jumped when Dustin‟s arm snaked around my waist.

Kissing the side of my neck, he murmured, “You know, it‟s
been a while since we‟ve used the table for—”

“That‟s not going to work.” Banked off the left, hit the

seven, both should—

“Hmm, you sure?” His hand drifted down the front of my

shirt to my belt. “It‟s worked before.”

“Not while I was winning.” Seven, banked… wait… two—

He kissed my neck again. “First time for everything.”

“It—”

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His fingers trailed along my zipper, and I couldn‟t help

closing my eyes and sucking in a breath. He laughed. “See?”

Biting my lip, I pretended not to notice the effect his

touch had on me. I wasn‟t falling for it. I was not getting hard
just because he was running his fingers along my cock
through my jeans. I was not… Jesus Christ, Dustin….

“We could always go in the bedroom for a little while,”

he whispered.

I playfully shrugged him away. “You‟re not going to

distract me from this game.” Two, banked… wait….

“You‟re going to let the game distract you from me?” He

pressed his hips against me, making sure I knew about his
hard-on.

My shoulders dropped. I laid my cue across the table

and turned around. “You‟re a bastard, you know that?”

He grinned. “I‟ll make it up to you.”

I put my arms around his neck. “You‟re damn right you

will.”

“I always do, don‟t I?” He kissed me and nudged me up

against the table.

“You do.” I pulled in a breath through my teeth as his

hard cock brushed over mine through our clothes. “You
definitely do.”

His hand slipped under the back of my shirt. In the

same moment he bent to kiss my neck, his fingertips drifted
lightly across the small of my back, and the resulting shiver
made my spine arch.

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“We really should get back to the game,” he said,

pausing to nip my earlobe. “You‟re winning after all, so—”

“Don‟t you dare.”

He started to pull away. “But you should—”

“Don‟t. You. Dare.”

He laughed and let me pull him back to me. He took a

breath, was just about to speak, when a shrill ringtone cut
him off. His laughter faded, and we both eyed the phone
sitting on the edge of the bar.

He swallowed hard. I loosened my arms around his

neck. “You going to answer it?”

Taking a deep breath, he stepped away from me and

picked up the phone off the bar. I knew from the sudden
tension in his neck and shoulders that it was Tristan.

Dustin bit his lip. Glanced at me. Looked at the phone

again. Then he closed his eyes and flipped the phone open.

“Hello?” He rubbed the bridge of his nose with his

thumb and forefinger. “Yeah, it‟s, um, it‟s good to hear from
you, too.”

I straightened my shirt and joined him beside the bar.

“Okay. Right.” He paused.

He glanced at me before dropping his unfocused gaze to

the floor in front of him. I rested my hand on the back of his
neck. Just as I‟d suspected, his muscles were like steel, just
as they always were when he was tense. I pressed my fingers
in, rubbing gently, and he let out a long sigh.

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“Yeah, I guess we could do that.” He paused. “Sure, call

her, and then let me know.” A longer pause. “Okay. I‟ll, um,
talk to you then.” He snapped the phone shut and released a
long breath. After a moment, he looked at me. “He‟s going to
talk to Kari. See if she minds us meeting at her place on
Sunday, since he was already planning to go over there.”

“Neutral territory?”

Dustin nodded. “So much for getting any sleep between

now and this weekend.”

“You‟ll be fine,” I said, still gently massaging the tense

muscles of his neck.

He sighed. “I know, I‟m just… worried, I guess. About

how this will go.”

“Was he hostile at all?”

“No.”

“So maybe he really does just want to smooth things

over.”

“Maybe.” He pursed his lips. “I can‟t imagine he‟s had

that much of a change of heart, though. I mean, after
twenty-some-odd years of thinking it‟s wrong, he suddenly
decides it‟s okay for me to be with a man?”

I shrugged. “Took you almost as long to figure out you

were into men.”

“True. I don‟t know, maybe I‟m worried about nothing. I

just can‟t help having a really bad feeling about this.”

“Do you really think he‟s gone to all this trouble just to

tell you off again?” I asked.

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“For all I know, now that he knows we‟re getting

married, he wants to tell me face-to-face how disgusting it
is.”

I chewed the inside of my cheek. In spite of Tristan‟s

comments and what appeared to be genuine repentance, I‟d
had the same concern in the back of my mind.

Dustin glanced up at me, as much as he could without

lifting his head enough to push my hand away. “You‟re
thinking the same thing, aren‟t you?”

I forced a laugh. “Someone‟s learning to read minds.”

His sharp sniff of laughter was just as forced. “So I‟m

right?”

I hesitated, but then nodded. “Okay, yeah, it‟s crossed

my mind.”

“Maybe I should skip it, then.”

“I wouldn‟t.”

“Really?”

“Do you want to reconcile with him?”

Dustin looked at the floor. Then he nodded.

“So this is your chance to do that,” I said. “If he tells you

off again, you‟re right back where you were before he showed
up in my office. Nothing‟s changed. But if he doesn‟t….”

Dustin sighed. “You‟re probably right.”

He closed his eyes and let his head fall forward. Neither

of us spoke for a long, long time while I continued rubbing
the back of his neck.

“Like that?” I asked finally.

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“I always do.” He turned to me, still keeping his head

down enough to let me rub his neck. He gestured with his
phone before setting it on the bar behind him. “I wouldn't be
able to deal with this without you, you know.”

I smiled. “To be fair, you wouldn‟t have to deal with it at

all without me.”

He laughed half-heartedly and slid his arm around my

waist. “I don‟t know about that. But either way….” His smile
faded. “I‟m glad you‟re here.”

“Me too.” I lifted my hand off his neck and combed my

fingers through his hair. “And I‟m not going anywhere.”

“Actually,” he grinned, “yes, you are.”

“Am I?”

He wrapped his arms around me and leaned in to kiss

me. “I think we were on our way somewhere before we were
so rudely interrupted.”

“Somewhere?” I said between kisses. “Where?”

“The bedroom, if I recall.” Between the lines, he said, I

need you to distract me.

“Hmm, yes, I think you‟re right.” Whatever you need, I’m

here.

“I am. Let‟s go.”

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Chapter 5

“S

,”

mother said over dinner on Saturday night, “do I

get to mark my calendar, or are you two still putting off
setting a date?”

Dustin and I both groaned.

“See what happens when you leave two men in charge of

planning a wedding?” My sister Jillian said. I glared at her.
She batted her eyes and mouthed “what?”

“Honestly, you two,” Mom said. “The sooner you start

planning, the less of a hassle it‟ll be.”

“You could always elope,” Jillian said.

“They will do no such thing,” Mom said.

My sister snickered. “Pity you can‟t have a shotgun

wedding.”

“Yeah,” I said. “I don‟t think I‟ll be knocking him up any

time soon.”

Dustin choked on his drink.

Mom rolled her eyes and gave an exasperated sigh.

“Brandon Christopher. Must you be so crass?”

Jillian smothered a laugh. “I think Dustin‟s been a bad

influence on him.”

“What?” Dustin said. “What the hell did I do?”

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“It‟s true,” I said. “I was a perfect gentleman until you

came along.”

He snorted. “Oh, now that‟s a load of bullshit if I‟ve ever

heard it.”

“Shut up and take the blame,” I said with a dismissive

gesture.

“Great, it‟s like we‟re married already,” he muttered. We

exchanged good-natured glares. Then I put my arm around
him and kissed his cheek.

“Oh, Jesus, you two.” Jillian put her hands over her

face. “You make that look like it‟s socially acceptable or
something.”

“I could always slip him the tongue,” I said matter-of-

factly.

“Brandon and Jillian,” Mom said, alternately giving us

both dirty looks. Then she looked at Dustin. “Where did I go
wrong? I raised them to be a doctor and a lawyer, but get
them around my kitchen table and they‟re suddenly twelve
again.”

Dustin shrugged. “Well, I‟ve tried to keep this one in

line, but—ow!” He rubbed where I‟d jabbed his ribs.
“Bastard.”

“You hear that, Mom?” I said. “He‟s saying—”

“You two can sort that out.” She shook her head and

stood. “Now who‟s helping me clean up?”

“Dustin,” Jillian and I said in unison.

“Wait, what?” He looked at us both incredulously.

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“All of you.” Mom gestured at the table. “Grab an

armload and take it into the kitchen.”

We rose and did as she asked, clearing the table and

piling everything on the counter. As we made a few trips to
and from the dining room and put leftovers in containers,
Mom turned to me.

“You never did answer my question earlier,” she said.

“Any thoughts about a date?”

I shrugged as I pressed the lid onto a bowl of potato

salad. “All I know is it‟s going to be after November now.”

“November?” Mom sighed. “But, that‟s months away.”

“Just means more time to make plans.” I gave her the

boyish smile that had gotten me out of so many
punishments as a kid. She pursed her lips and sighed.

“Why November, anyway?” Jillian asked. “Don‟t you at

least want to try for some decent weather?”

“Right, because it‟s simply tropical right now.” I

gestured out the window, where fat drops of rain smacked
the glass and streaked down to the sill.

“Point taken,” she said. “But why November?”

“The election.” Dustin looked up from trying to wedge

another dish into the well-stocked refrigerator. “Gay
marriage is on the ballot, and if the bill passes, we can
legally get married.”

“Oh, well, that does make sense,” Jillian said.

Mom eyed me. “So, whether or not it passes, you‟ll be

setting a date after that, right? There won‟t be any more
procrastinating, will there?”

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“No, Mom,” Dustin and I said in unison.

She shot us both a disapproving look but didn‟t push

the issue.

I couldn‟t blame her for her persistence. Dustin and I

had been engaged in the most informal sense of the word for
almost a year, and we‟d been wishy-washy about setting a
date. It wasn‟t that we were reluctant to get married—far
from it—but if one thing didn‟t come up, something else did.
I had a huge workload one semester and didn't need the
added stress. A few months ago, we‟d bought our condo,
which had occupied our time and energy, not to mention
leaving us financially strapped for a while. Dustin‟s sister
had recently had her second baby, and he hadn‟t wanted to
take the spotlight off her. Or stress her out with the family
drama that would inevitably ensue.

Once the kitchen and dining room were clean, dishes

were in the dishwasher, and coffee was made, Mom took
Dustin by the elbow. “Brandon and Jillian, you two can
handle the pots and pans. I‟ll be in the living room, having
coffee with the good son.”

Dustin flashed me a grin. “Hear that? I‟m the favorite

now.” He ducked just in time to avoid the dish towel Jillian
threw at him. He laughed and walked out of the room with
Mom and some coffee.

“Christ, you and he really are two of a kind,” Jillian

muttered after Mom and Dustin had left.

I raised an eyebrow. “Is that a compliment or an insult?”

She shrugged as she turned on the faucet. “Take it how

you will.”

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I reached for a sponge, making sure to elbow her in the

process. She elbowed me back. I went to retaliate, but she
picked up the sprayer, so I put my hands up.

“Okay, okay, you win.”

“Damn right.” She put the sprayer back. “You washing

or drying?”

“I‟ll dry.”

“Hand me that pot, then.” As she scrubbed the pot, she

said, “Okay, Brandon, be straight with me here.”

I chuckled. “No can do, sis.”

“Oh for fuck‟s sake.” She rolled her eyes. “You know

what I mean.”

“Yeah, yeah, go on.”

“Are you really going through with this?” She glanced

over her other shoulder toward the living room, where
Dustin now sat with Mom, then looked back at me. “Getting
married?”

I nodded. “Yes, I am.”

“No cold feet, anything like that?”

I laughed. “God, no. Why?”

She shrugged, furrowing her brow as she scrubbed.

“Just checking. You guys definitely seem happy together, but
since you hadn‟t set a date….”

“We‟re not putting it off. Not because we don‟t want to

do it, I mean. Just, you know, stuff keeps coming up.”

“Stuff will always come up.” She moved the pot to the

other side of the sink and started rinsing it. “If you keep

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putting it off every time something does, you‟ll be fifty before
you finally go through with it.”

I chewed my lip. My sister knew of what she spoke. Her

engagement to my brother-in-law had lasted almost seven
years while law school, bar exams, a few medical issues,
buying a house, and God only knew what else kept pushing
the big date back.

She handed me the pot, which I started drying while she

went for another pan.

“I just want to make sure we have the time and money

to actually plan it,” I said. “It‟s not exactly cheap, as you well
know.”

“True.” She glanced up. “You know you don‟t really have

to have a big crazy wedding if you don‟t want to, right?”

I shrugged. “I know, but it‟s important to Mom. I‟m not

opposed to it, just not looking forward to putting it all
together.”

“Oh, believe me, I feel your pain.” She clicked her

tongue. “Had I known how much of a pain in the ass it
would be, I‟d have eloped.”

“That bad, huh?” I laughed.

“That bad.” She paused. “But then, you can‟t elope.”

“I can‟t? Why not?”

“You‟re gay,” she said matter-of-factly. “Your wedding

should be nothing short of fabulous.”

I smacked her with a dish towel.

“What? It‟s true.”

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“Uh-huh.” I set the dried pot aside and took the pan

she‟d just finished washing. “Besides, we‟re both bisexual, so
doesn‟t that mean we can settle for half fabulous?”

“You‟ll have to discuss that with Mom.”

I groaned. “Damn it.”

“Guess you‟re stuck.” She grinned. “Fabulous it is.”

“Bitch.”

“Don‟t make me tell Mom.”

“You would.”

“Yes, I would.”

Laughter from the other room turned both our heads.

“Listen to them,” Jillian said with mock disapproval.

“Laughing and carrying on while we slave over the dirty
dishes.”

I returned my attention back to drying dishes. “Ah, well.

At least they get along.”

Jillian looked at me, eyebrows up. “He still doesn‟t get

along with his mother?”

“Nope.” I set the pan down and took the next from her.

“Hasn‟t spoken to her in two years.”

“Jesus.” She shook her head. “I can‟t even imagine going

that long—” Our eyes met and her cheeks colored. “Shit,
sorry. I guess you….” She bit her lower lip.

“It‟s okay,” I said quietly. “Time heals all wounds.”

Her eyebrows rose again. “Does it?”

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Sighing, I set the pan and towel down. “Eventually, yes.”

I nodded in Dustin‟s direction. “At least he might be patching
things up with his brother.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. They‟re getting together tomorrow to try to talk

things over.”

She went back to scrubbing a pot, but glanced at me as

she spoke. “Do you think they‟ll work it out?”

“Don‟t know.” I paused. “But I hope they do. It would do

him a lot of good if they could put this behind them.”

Her hands slowed, and she fixed her eyes on something

other than me or the pot in her hands. Then she set the pot
down and turned off the faucet. Drying her hands, she faced
me. “Have you thought—”

I put my hands up and shook my head. “Jillian, don‟t.”

“Why not?”

“We‟ve had this conversation.”

She shifted her weight. “I know, and we‟re going to keep

having it until you talk to him.”

I released a breath through my teeth. “After all this

time, is there really much point?”

“After all this time, it needs to stop,” she said. “You‟re

brothers, for God‟s sake. I know you‟re both as stubborn as
any member of this family, but it‟s been, what, sixteen
years?”

“Yeah.” When I exhaled this time, my shoulders fell.

“And not a day goes by that I don‟t think about it, but—”

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“Then talk to him.”

“This was his choice, Jillian,” I said. “He doesn‟t like

what I am. I didn‟t walk away, so why should I be the one to
extend the olive branch?”

“It doesn‟t matter who extends it, just that someone

does. Brandon, I love you both. You‟re both my brothers, but
this has to stop. It‟s been a decade and a half of the family
bending over backwards to be a family without putting the
two of you in the same room.” She glanced toward the living
room, then looked me in the eye. “It‟s still killing Mom.”

“It‟s still killing me,” I said.

“Then why won‟t you talk to him?”

“Have you tried having this conversation with him?”

“Yes, I have.”

“And?”

She sighed. “He‟s….” She trailed off, avoiding my eyes.

“So what makes you think I‟d have any better luck?”

“I don‟t know,” she said, almost whispering. “But, Jesus,

with you and Dustin getting married… and….” She trailed off
again, this time making a sharp, frustrated gesture.

“Look,” I said quietly. “I know this has hurt you and

Mom and everyone else in the family. I‟d give anything to
resolve things with Russell. I‟d love nothing more than to
have him come to our wedding.” I swallowed. “But he‟s made
no effort to mend fences with me, and you‟ve said yourself he
hasn‟t listened to you.”

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“I know,” she whispered, dropping her gaze. “I guess I

just think it‟s worth a try.”

I chewed the inside of my cheek and said nothing.

“Promise me you‟ll at least think about it,” she said.

I hesitated. What was the point? Every member of this

family was stubborn enough to make a mule back down, but
even the most bull-headed among us wouldn‟t hold a grudge
that long unless we thought it was worth holding.

“Brandon?”

I swallowed hard. Then I nodded. “Okay. I‟ll think about

it.”

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Chapter 6

USTIN

scrutinized his reflection, lifting his chin and

running his fingers up his neck and along the edges of his
goatee. It must have been the fiftieth time he‟d done it since
he‟d finished shaving twenty minutes ago.

I rinsed my razor and met his eyes in the mirror. “I‟m

pretty sure you haven‟t missed a spot.”

He scowled. Then he exhaled and nodded, dropping his

gaze as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, I know.
Just….”

“Nervous?” I watched him in the mirror as I dried my

face. His eyes flicked up.

“You could say that, yeah.”

Setting the towel down, I turned to him. “I don‟t blame

you.”

“This is ridiculous, though.” He shook his head and

clicked his tongue. “I don‟t think I was ever this wound up
the first few times you and I were together.”

I laughed. “Yeah, but you knew what to expect then.

Well, to an extent.” I snaked my arm around his waist and
drew him a little closer. “Dustin, you have every right to be
nervous.”

“I know, but….” He trailed off. “I feel like an idiot.”

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“Why?” I ran my fingers through his damp hair. “You

aren‟t exactly going to see him to talk about the weather, you
know?”

“Maybe so.” He dropped his gaze. “I just… I….”

“Come here.” I drew him into a gentle kiss.

He touched his forehead to mine and sighed.

“Dustin, anyone would be nervous in your shoes.” I ran

my fingers through his hair. Hell, I wasn‟t in his shoes, and I
was nervous. My stomach twisted and turned every time I
looked at the clock and realized we were a minute or two
closer to leaving for Kari‟s house. I just did everything I could
not to let it show; Dustin had enough on his mind without
worrying about my nerves.

He leaned against the counter, running a hand through

his hair. “Maybe this isn‟t a good idea. I mean, do I really
want to hear him tell me everything he told me over the
phone back then?”

“I don‟t think he will.”

“He might.”

“He sought you out, and he‟s willing to meet you to talk

about this,” I said. “From everything he‟s said, he probably
does want to make peace.”

Dustin nodded, avoiding my eyes. “I know.” He rolled his

shoulders and tilted his neck to one side, then the other.
“But what if he just wants to tell me how wrong he still
thinks this is? For all I know, he could be doing this as a
last-ditch effort to talk me out of marrying you.”

“I don‟t think so. Not from what he said the other day.”

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He sighed. “Which is why I feel like an idiot for being

this worried. One minute, I think I‟m freaking out about
nothing. The next, I wonder if I‟ve thought this through
enough. Shit, it‟s….” He shook his head.

“Don‟t keep analyzing it and worrying about it,” I said.

“We‟ve been through this. It‟ll probably be just fine.”

He said nothing.

“Maybe,” I said, grinning, “you just need something to

relieve the tension.”

His eyes met mine. After a second, he managed a soft

laugh. “At this point, I don‟t think—” A gasp cut him off
when I slid my hand over the front of his jeans.

“You don‟t think…?”

He closed his eyes and let out a low groan. “Jesus….”

“Just a little something to settle your nerves.” I kissed

him. He moaned against my lips and cradled the back of my
neck with one hand. Squeezing him gently, I said, “Unless
you want me to stop?”

“No, don‟t—” He paused, licking his lips. “Please don‟t

stop.” My mouth watered as his cock hardened beneath his
jeans. When I trailed my thumb along the outline of his
thickening erection, he shivered. The hand on the back of my
neck tightened, not pulling me any closer but forbidding me
from pulling away.

“You sure you don‟t want me to stop?”

“God, no,” he breathed. He rested his forehead against

mine, breathing rapidly as I unbuttoned and unzipped his
jeans.

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“Good. Because I had no intention of stopping.”

When my fingers closed around his cock, he moaned

and let his head fall back, so I bent and kissed his neck,
nearly moaning myself when his voice vibrated against my
lips. I trailed light kisses up the front of his throat, then
along his jaw, all the while stroking his cock as slowly as
humanly possible. I nipped his earlobe, and he grasped my
hair. He didn‟t pull back hard enough to take my lips off his
skin. He did it just enough to sting, which was just enough
to send goose bumps prickling down my spine. Just enough
make me that much harder.

“Keep doing that,” I growled in his ear, “and I‟ll have no

choice but to take you to bed and fuck you.” I pressed my
hips against him, making sure he felt exactly what he was
doing to me.

He whimpered, and though his hand trembled, he made

no effort to release my hair. I stroked him a little faster, a
little harder, and only then did he let go, putting that hand
to use by grabbing the counter and bracing himself. “Fuck,
Brandon….”

“Oh, I will. Believe me, I will. But first….”

I went to my knees. Dustin moaned before my mouth

had even touched him, and when my tongue traced the
underside of his cock, he sucked in a sharp breath.
Trembling fingers ran through my hair as I took inch after
inch of him into my mouth.

His balance wavered slightly as I stroked and sucked

him, my hand moving at the exact same speed as my mouth.

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Squeezing here, releasing there, breaking my own rhythm
just enough to keep him from getting accustomed to it.

“Fuck,” he breathed. “Oh, fuck, that‟s… perfect.”

I ran my free hand down his thigh to his trembling knee,

and rested it there. Yes, I feel you shaking. I shivered. You’re
shaking, and I’m doing this to you.

“Brandon,” he said, almost moaning. “Look—look at

me.”

As soon as I did, Dustin‟s eyes widened. His lips parted

with a ragged exhalation. His fingers twitched in my hair,
and his cock twitched against my tongue.

“Oh… God….”

I squeezed a little harder, circled a little faster with my

tongue, and in seconds, was rewarded with a long, deep
groan just before hot semen hit my tongue.

When I stood, he grabbed me and kissed me, his

passionate, breathless kiss sending ripples of oh, God I want
you right now down my spine.

“Feel better?” I asked with a grin.

“About what?”

“That‟s what I thought.”

He laughed and drew me into another kiss. “You always

do know how to relieve tension.”

“An orgasm‟s always good for that, don‟t you think?”

“Absolutely.” He pushed himself away from the counter

and nudged me toward the bedroom. “You said something
earlier,” he murmured against my lips. “That if I didn‟t stop

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doing something, you‟d have no choice but to take me to bed
and fuck me.”

“Hmm, did I?” I grinned into his kiss, taking a step back

as he took one forward.

“Yes. You did.” His hand slid around the back of my

neck. “Now what was it?”

“Don‟t know. Can‟t remember.”

“That‟s too bad.” His fingers drifted into my hair. “That‟s

really too—” He suddenly tightened his grasp on my hair and
pulled my head back.

I gripped his shoulders and moaned.

He laughed and pushed me back another step. “That‟s

what I thought.”

Rain | L.A. Witt

Chapter 7

“

HAT

is this, a fucking monsoon?” Dustin scowled at the

pouring rain.

“Just that time of year.” I glanced at him before

returning my attention to the road. “Besides, I thought you
liked the rain.” We looked at each other again, and this time
a smile played at his lips.

“Okay, so I like doing some things in the rain,” he said.

“But making out in it is one thing. Driving in it is another.”

“And you‟re currently doing neither.” I tapped my

thumbs on the wheel for emphasis. “But if you want me to
pull over, I could—”

“Don‟t tempt me.”

“But if I did tempt you, would—”

“Most likely, yes.”

I slowed down, and we both burst out laughing.

“Smartass,” he said.

A few minutes later, I put on my signal and turned

down the side street that would lead us to his sister‟s house.
Dustin took and released a ragged breath, and for the
longest time, he simply looked out the passenger side
window. What little I could see of his face was
expressionless, but his cheek rippled with tension.

Rain | L.A. Witt

I put my hand on his knee. Without a word, he put his

over mine and gently stroked the side of my hand with his
thumb. His palm was damp with sweat.

“You doing okay?” I asked.

“I think I‟ll survive.” He paused, then allowed himself a

quiet laugh. “Guess I just needed some of Dr. Stewart‟s
patented stress relief.”

“Always glad to help.” I looked at him and winked. He

smiled, if half-heartedly. I turned my hand over beneath his
and laced our fingers together.

The road curved to the right, and up ahead, Kari‟s

house came into view in the misty grey distance. Dustin
fidgeted, his fingers twitching beneath mine as if he could
barely resist the urge to drum them. I squeezed his hand
gently, and his fingers stilled. For a minute.

I pulled into Kari‟s driveway and stopped beside the

familiar black SUV. There were no other cars around, so I
guessed Tristan wasn‟t there yet. Not surprising; we were a
little early.

Shifting into park meant tugging my hand away from

Dustin‟s, so for the moment, I just kept my foot on the
brake.

“You ready for this?” I asked.

He closed his eyes and exhaled. Then he turned to me.

“Not really.”

I offered what I hoped was a reassuring smile and

squeezed his hand. “It‟ll be fine. And if by chance it‟s not,
just say the word and we can go.”

Rain | L.A. Witt

The corner of his mouth twitched with the closest thing

to a smile he could probably muster at that point. “Thanks.”

I leaned across the console, and he met me halfway. It

was a gentle kiss. There was absolutely nothing sexual about
it, nothing but tenderness and affection. A silent, I’m here.

Only after he broke that kiss did I release his hand and

reach up to put the car in park. After I‟d killed the engine, we
got out and hurried across the driveway to get out of the
rain.

Dustin rang the doorbell, and we waited.

Kari‟s husband Daryl answered the door with Brett,

their new baby, asleep on his shoulder. We all tried to make
as little noise as possible as we stepped inside, closed the
door, and got out of shoes and jackets.

“Kari will be down in a minute,” he said quietly. “Go

ahead and make yourselves at home in the living room. I
need go check on—” Something crashed in another room. He
cursed under his breath. “I need to go check on Wesley.”

“Want me to take that one off your hands while you do?”

I asked, nodding at Brett.

“You don‟t mind?”

“Not at all.”

“Great. Thank you.” He carefully handed Brett off to me.

As I settled him into the crook of my elbow, Brett opened his
eyes. He glared up at me with an expression that said
nothing if not “where the hell did you come from?” I smiled
at him, and he relaxed a little.

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I followed Dustin into the living room. He took a seat on

the couch, but I stayed on my feet since the baby preferred
being held by someone who was constantly moving. That
little quirk of his was probably going to drive his parents into
an early grave, but for the uncle who only stopped by on
occasion, it was no big deal.

“What the hell is this?” Kari released a sharp breath as

she came into the living room. “He‟s been fussy all morning,
but then you pick him up and he‟s fine.”

I laughed. “Maybe he just has good taste.”

“Gee, thanks.” She glared at me. Then she laughed and

carefully hugged me with one arm to keep from disturbing
Brett. “Good to see you.”

Dustin stood and put his arms out. “What? No hug for

your big brother?”

“Oh, if I must.”

“You must. Come here.” They shared a quick embrace.

“Tristan should be here soon,” she said. “He called and

said he was on his way.”

Dustin shifted his weight. “I guess we‟ll just have to wait

for him then, won‟t we?”

“I guess so.” Kari looked at him, and judging by the lift

of her eyebrows, she‟d caught on to his discomfort at the
situation. She quickly changed the subject. “You know,” she
said, gesturing at me, “he looks right at home with a baby in
his arms.”

Dustin shot me a pointed look. “No, Brandon, you can‟t

keep him.”

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I laughed. “Aww, I can‟t?”

“Can he at least keep him until he sleeps through the

night?” Kari asked.

I eyed the baby, then Kari. “Wait, these things don‟t

sleep through the night? Well, forget that, then.”

She snorted. “You guys are such pussies.”

“I am not,” I said with a sniff of indignation. “I just value

sleeping in on Saturday mornings.”

“And staying up late whenever we feel like it,” Dustin

said.

“Exactly. And not being disturbed during the night.”

“Oh, and don‟t forget—”

“Whatever.” Kari rolled her eyes. “I hate you both.”

Dustin shrugged, chuckling. “So we get to live the high

life, and you—”

The doorbell rang. Everyone in the room tensed. Even

the baby noticed the change in the atmosphere. His tiny fists
gripped my shirt. His breathing quickened, and his soft
whimpers hinted at impending tears.

“Shh,” I whispered, rocking him gently and shifting my

weight from one foot to the other and back.

Kari looked at the baby then at me. I gave her a nod,

and she went down the hall to answer the door.

The door opened, and the minute change in air pressure

made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Brett
squirmed in my arms, probably sensing the way my entire

Rain | L.A. Witt

body had tensed. I willed myself to relax. If not for his
benefit, then for Dustin‟s.

Voices at the other end of the hall sent a shiver down

my spine. Dustin sank onto the couch, blowing out a breath
and rubbing his forehead with the heels of his hands.

I held the baby on one arm and squeezed Dustin‟s

shoulder with my free hand.

Approaching footsteps thudded beside my pounding

heart. Dustin‟s muscles tensed beneath my hand, and I
thought he whispered a few obscenities. Before I could ask
him to repeat whatever he‟d said, the air in the room
changed again, and we were no longer alone.

Tristan stopped. Dustin stood.

Tristan‟s eyes were narrow, his lips pressed tightly

together, and his shoulders looked as tense as Dustin‟s. Just
like the day he‟d walked into my office, it was hard to say if
he looked nervous or hostile. Maybe both.

Kari wasted no time making her escape, and for that I

couldn‟t blame her, especially since she was taking me with
her.

“I guess we should leave them alone,” she said. “And I

need to put him down for a bit anyway.” She gestured for me
to follow her and started toward the hallway.

“Brandon, wait.” Dustin‟s voice stopped me in my

tracks. “I want you to stay.”

I swallowed, glancing back and forth between the two

brothers. Tristan‟s posture stiffened, his cheek rippling as he
clenched his jaw.

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“Are you sure?” I asked.

Tristan glared at Dustin. “This is between us.”

“And it involves him,” Dustin snapped. “You want to

talk, you talk to both of us.”

Easy, Dustin, I wanted to say. Don’t sabotage this before

it’s even started.

Tristan eyed me, then released a sharp breath and

nodded once.

“Let me take him off your hands,” Kari said, and we

carefully moved Brett from my arms to hers. As soon as the
baby was handed off, she left the room.

Dustin and I sat on the couch. Tristan sat across from

us in one of the armchairs, and he was the first to break the
awkward silence.

“Listen, I‟m not really sure where to start.”

Dustin shifted. “You‟re not the only one.”

They were both silent for a long, uncomfortable moment.

Finally, Tristan blew out a breath and blurted out, “I don‟t
get it. What changed? I mean, twenty-eight years old, and
suddenly”—he gestured from me to Dustin. “…this?”

“Yeah, basically.” There was ice in Dustin‟s voice.

In an equally cold voice, Tristan said, “So, what

changed?”

Panic tightened my chest. Damn it, Tristan, I thought you

wanted to resolve this. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe this was a
mistake.

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Dustin slipped his hand into mine, a subtle gesture that

made Tristan‟s jaw tighten. Dustin shrugged. “What
changed? I met him.”

“And you just happened to meet him after your div—”

“This has nothing to do with Stephanie,” Dustin

snapped.

“Doesn‟t it?” Tristan said. “Then why did you wait until

you were divorced to suddenly be into men?”

Dustin sighed. “I spent most of that marriage either

fighting or avoiding fighting. I didn‟t have the time or energy
to notice other women, let alone men. That, and unlike the
woman I was married to, I wasn‟t fucking around.”

“Still, you got out of a miserable marriage, and suddenly

decided you‟re….” He paused, an undeniable look of disgust
twisting his lips. “…you‟re gay.”

“Bi. I‟m not gay, I‟m bi.”

Tristan‟s eyebrows flicked up, and the disgusted sneer

was back for a heartbeat. “Either way. It‟s—”

“It‟s who I am, Tristan.”

“Is it?” Tristan eyed him. “I just, I never even had a clue

that you were… gay.”

Dustin shrugged. “Neither did I. But I met him, and….”

Another shrug that was somewhere between apologetic and
flippant.

“And suddenly decided you were into men?”

“No. Just him.”

“So you chose—”

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“Could you choose not to love Olivia?”

Tristan‟s posture stiffened. “No, no, God no.”

Dustin looked at me, and I gave his hand a reassuring

squeeze as he turned back to his brother and said, “Then
you know where I‟m coming from.”

“But, he‟s… a man. You‟re….” He ran a hand through

his hair and shook his head. “I just don‟t get it.”

I gritted my teeth but stayed quiet. The oblivious

bastard had no clue that with every word, he addressed my
existence in Dustin‟s life as a disease. Something to be
approached with caution and scorn. But this was Dustin‟s
conversation, and even if it wasn‟t, anything that came out of
my mouth right then would probably have been
counterproductive anyway, so I kept my trap shut. I was
there for moral support. Silent, seething, irritated moral
support.

“Let me ask you this,” Dustin said. “Did you stop and

think about Olivia‟s gender before you were attracted to
her?”

Tristan pursed his lips. “No.”

“See? You‟ve never been in love with „some woman.‟ It‟s

always been Olivia. And for me, from day one, it‟s been…
him.”

Tristan didn‟t speak. Dustin and I exchanged glances.

Then he looked at our joined hands, watching as he ran his
thumb back and forth alongside my hand just as he‟d done
in the car. Our eyes met one more time before he turned to
Tristan again.

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“Doesn‟t it tell you something that I was willing—”

Dustin paused when his voice tried to crack. He quickly
cleared his throat and went on. “That I was willing to let half
of my family disown me rather than walk away from
Brandon? I couldn‟t make myself not love him any more than
I could make you accept us. Doesn‟t that tell you
something?”

“It does.” Tristan swallowed hard, avoiding Dustin‟s

eyes. “Believe me, it does.”

“So you understand—”

“No. I won‟t say I understand.”

“Then why are we having this conversation?”

“I don‟t get it, Dustin. I‟m not going to lie. I can‟t get my

head around it; I don‟t understand it.” He paused. “But I
want to.”

Dustin sucked in a breath. “Why now? I mean, what‟s

changed?”

His brother shrugged. “I guess I thought it was a phase.

Something you‟d get over. But….” His eyes darted toward me
then back to Dustin. “Since the two of you are….” Another
pause. “…getting married, I guess it‟s not.”

“No, it‟s not.”

“Look, the thing is….” Tristan paused. He steepled his

fingers in front of his lips. For a moment, his eyes lost focus.
Then he looked at Dustin. “I want my brother back.”

My breath caught. So did Dustin‟s.

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“I‟m not going to pretend I don‟t have issues with this,”

he said. “It‟s just not something I‟m used to, and maybe with
time, it‟ll make more sense to me. But it‟s not worth this.”

“You‟re right, it‟s not,” Dustin said quietly. “But there

isn‟t anything to get. Boil it down, and the only difference
between our relationship and yours is that Brandon and I
are both men. Otherwise, we‟re exactly the same as you and
Olivia, Rick and Lisa, and Daryl and Kari.”

Tristan dropped his gaze and said nothing.

“Let me put it this way,” Dustin said. “Would you rather

see me miserable with someone like Stephanie? Or happy
with Brandon?”

Tristan released his breath. His shoulders slumped a

little, and he reached up to rub his temples. After a moment,
he looked at us, eyes shifting back and forth from one of us
to the other, pausing occasionally at our joined hands.

“You guys really are happy together, aren‟t you?” he

asked, almost whispering.

“Yes,” Dustin said without hesitation. “Like I said, I was

willing to let half the family disown me rather than walk
away from him.”

Tristan closed his eyes, letting out another long breath.

“Then I‟m….” He hesitated, but finally looked at us. “Then
I‟m happy for you.”

Dustin and I both exhaled. He tugged his hand free from

mine and stood.

“That‟s all I‟m asking for.” He stepped around the coffee

table.

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Tristan rose. Dustin extended his hand, and his brother

took it, but it didn‟t take more than a second or two for the
handshake to turn into an embrace.

“I‟m sorry, Dustin.”

Dustin replied with something I couldn‟t hear. They

separated, and when Tristan smiled at his brother, it was the
first genuine smile I‟d ever seen on his face. It faded after a
moment, though, and his brow knitted together when he
spoke.

“Mom isn‟t ready for this. She probably won‟t be for a

long time.”

“I know,” Dustin said. “There isn‟t much I can do but

wait and see if she comes around.”

Tristan chewed his lip. Then he turned to me. “I‟m not

sure if this is two years late or if it‟s a little bit premature,
but….” He extended his hand across the coffee table, and a
tentative smile pulled up the corners of his mouth. “Welcome
to the family.”

I stood and shook his hand. “Thanks.”

We took our seats again, and for the first time in two

years, they talked. Not about Dustin‟s sexuality or Tristan‟s
hang-ups, but of life in general. Tristan even asked me a
little about my job, and made the mistake of challenging me
to a game of pool.

“Your funeral,” Dustin said, chuckling.

“Oh, come on,” Tristan said. “I can beat him.”

I smiled. “I guess we‟ll see about that, won‟t we?”

“Name the time and place,” Tristan said.

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“Anytime, anywhere. I don‟t play for less than fifty

bucks, though.”

Tristan whistled. “Cocky, are we?”

Dustin rolled his eyes. “You have no idea.”

“Hey, when it comes to pool,” I said, “I believe I‟ve more

than earned the right to be a cocky bastard.”

“He‟s got a point,” Dustin said with a shrug. “Tristan‟s

not bad, though. Hey, you remember that time at the pool
hall with Rick and Cousin Jim?”

Tristan laughed. “Oh, God. How could I forget?”

Cool relief swept through me as they continued

reconnecting. It would take time for old wounds to heal.
Tristan was willing to accept us, but a lifetime of worldviews
wouldn‟t change overnight.

Still, it was a start.

After a while, Tristan went upstairs to let Kari and Daryl

know it was safe to come out of hiding. As soon as he was
gone, Dustin squeezed my hand, and we exchanged smiles.

“See?” I said. “Told you it was worthwhile.”

He laughed, rolling his shoulders to, I guessed, get rid of

any residual tension. “Which is why you were nervous about
it too, right?”

“Okay, you got me.”

“But, yes, you were right.” He blew out a long breath.

“Talk about taking a weight off my shoulders.”

“I can imagine,” I said quietly.

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He leaned in and kissed me gently. “Thanks for being

here.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but footsteps signaled the

return of his family, so I let the conversation drop. Tristan,
Kari, and Daryl rejoined us with the kids in tow. Daryl went
into the kitchen to get some beers while Dustin and Tristan
fawned over their nephews.

Before I joined in, I excused myself from the group and

slipped out to the back porch. I pulled my cell phone out of
my pocket. For a moment I hesitated, staring at the blank
LCD screen and wondering if I dared.

I glanced over my shoulder at the door, as if I could see

through it to Dustin and Tristan catching up over a couple of
beers.

It’s worth a try.

I found the number and hit send. It rang a couple of

times, then:

“Hello?”

“Hey, Mom, it‟s Brandon. Listen, I need to ask you about

something….”

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Chapter 8

JOGGED

from my car to the unfamiliar porch with my head

down to keep the driving rain out of my eyes. Once I was
under cover, I ran a hand through my hair and brushed
some of the droplets off my jacket sleeves.

For the tenth time since I‟d pulled into the driveway, I

compared the address on the house to the one on the scrap
of paper in my hand. They matched. I was here. This was it.

Taking a deep breath, I rang the doorbell.

Footsteps on the other side of the door sent my heart

into my throat. No turning back now.

The door opened, and on the other side of the storm

door there stood a woman I‟d never met. Kimberly. I‟d seen
enough pictures to be familiar with her face, and seeing her
in the flesh was… surreal.

She cocked her head, narrowing her eyes slightly, a

mixture of confusion and recognition in the furrow of her
brow. Probably the same look I‟d given Tristan when he
walked into my office.

“Can I help you?” she asked.

I took a breath. “Yeah. Is, um, is Russell home?”

Her lips thinned. Then she nodded. “Let me get him.”

She stepped away, leaving the door ajar.

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A moment later, footsteps approached again, and they

were heavier this time. My heart pounded in my chest. Even
Dustin‟s efforts—his incredible, spine-melting efforts—from
earlier couldn‟t settle these nerves.

Then the door opened, and my heart all but stopped.

Through the dingy glass of the storm door, my eldest

brother and I looked at each other for the first time in
sixteen years.

The drumbeat of the rain drowned out any sound that

might have existed beyond Russell‟s porch, and even that
disappeared behind my pounding heart.

What am I doing here? Oh my God, I’m really doing this.

Fuck.

My brother finally broke the silence with a single word:

“Brandon.” Immediately he jumped as if the sound of my
name had startled him, as if it somehow made this
uncomfortable encounter real. He muffled a cough and
reached for the door. “Uh, come in, come in.”

“Thanks.” I stepped across the threshold and into his

house. He closed the door behind us, locking the rain
outside, but some of the cold had followed me in and hung
between us.

“So,” he said, alternately making and breaking eye

contact, “this is a… surprise.”

“Yeah, I….” I hesitated. “Sorry I didn‟t call. I thought….”

If I called, you wouldn’t see me. If I called, it would be too
easy for you to hang up. For me to hang up.

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“Well, you‟re here.” He smiled, but it wasn‟t terribly

warm. Neutral if anything. Non-committal. “Can I get you a
cup of coffee?”

“No, I‟m fine, thanks.”

“Okay, then.” He fidgeted, then gestured down the hall.

“Why don‟t we go into the living room?”

He led me down the hall. Along the way, I took in my

unfamiliar surroundings. Photos lined the walls, and
knickknacks were neatly arranged on shelves that were well-
stocked with books and photo albums. All around me, the
house and its contents were a catalogue of my brother‟s life.
Of the last decade and a half during which brothers had
been strangers.

My parents and siblings had kept me somewhat up to

date. They‟d told me when he‟d gotten married again and
when his kids were born. I‟d seen pictures and caught a few
details here and there, but it had all amounted to snapshots
and vague hints. Abstract pieces that now cemented
themselves into place as I stood amongst all the things I‟d
seen from a distance.

This must have been the effect my existence had had on

Tristan that day in my office. I saw everything now, in
person, with my own eyes, so it was real. And I‟d missed it
all.

My sister-in-law had disappeared into another room. My

nephew and two nieces may or may not have been home; the
house was eerily silent, though, so I had no idea if they were
there. I ached to meet them—to meet Kimberly properly
instead of as strangers through a screen door—but that was

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too much to ask just now. First, Russell. Once we‟d laid this
to rest, then perhaps we could move on to blending back
together two worlds that had been apart for so long.

He gestured at the sofa and took a seat in the leather

recliner. Sitting like this was déjà vu from the conversation
with Dustin and Tristan last weekend. I only hoped this one
had similar results.

For the longest time, neither of us spoke, and I took

advantage of the silence to just look at him and his life.
Russell looked much older than I‟d expected. We‟d both been
blessed with hairlines that refused to recede, but the
abundant grey in his hair implied the passage of more than
forty-five years. He‟d lost weight since the last photos I‟d
seen were taken. Maybe thirty or forty pounds, by the looks
of it.

At long last, he broke the silence. “So what brings you

here?”

I swallowed. “I just, um, I wanted to see you. You know,

talk. Catch up.” Make up?

“I see.” He shifted in his chair. “Well, what are you doing

these days?”

“Teaching.”

“Really? What, history?”

My heart sank. I wondered if he‟d ever even asked about

me in all this time. “Chemistry, mostly. Some biology.”

“Oh. High school?”

“College level.”

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My brother‟s eyes widened. “Really? Well, you always

were the academic type.” A fond smile dared to make itself
visible on his lips, but it was gone as soon as it had come.
He cleared his throat. “So you must have, what, a master‟s?”

“PhD.”

His eyebrows flicked upward. I gritted my teeth. He

must have thought I‟d done nothing but be gay for the last
decade and a half.

Leather creaked as Russell sat back. “Well. Sounds like

you‟ve done well for yourself, then.”

“I‟ve done okay.” I gestured around the spacious home.

“Doesn‟t look like you‟ve done too badly.”

He laughed—my God, he’s actually smiling, holy shit—

and looked around. “Well, when the kids aren‟t draining my
wallet.”

I smiled. “How are you doing, anyway? I mean, where

are you working now?” I knew full well where he worked and
what he did, but it was an icebreaker. The small talk,
awkward though it may have been, was talk, and the lack of
outright hostility gave me hope. It was mundane and stilted,
but if it could slowly coax us from strangers to brothers,
then I‟d run with it.

“I‟m still designing database software,” he said. “I‟ve

moved up over the last few years, but, you know, same old,
same old.”

“Well, there‟s always—”

“Let‟s cut to the chase.” The sudden edge to his voice

caught me off guard.

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I gulped. “Okay….”

“There‟s a reason we haven‟t seen each other in all these

years.”

“I know.” I chewed my lip. “Which is why I wanted to see

you and… maybe discuss it.”

He put his elbows on the armrests and folded his hands

beneath his chin. “Has anything….” He paused, forehead
creasing and eyes losing focus for a second. Then he looked
at me. “…changed?”

“Do you mean am I still gay?” I asked through my teeth.

His eyes narrowed. “Are you?”

“Bisexual, actually, but yes.”

With a cough of bitter laughter, he said, “So now you

bat for both teams?”

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. “Something like that.”

Russell sat back, blowing out a breath. “For Christ‟s

sake, this—”

“Why exactly is it such a big deal?”

“It‟s not

normal, Brandon. It‟s not natural.”

“Neither is completely turning your back on your

brother because of who he loves,” I growled.

He snorted. “That‟s not love.”

“Could have fooled me.” I hesitated, then added, “Dustin

and I are engaged, just so you know.”

His mouth twisted with disgust. “Isn‟t gay marriage

illegal?”

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“It‟s legal in a few places. Enough places.” I took a

breath, willing myself to keep my irritation out of my voice.
“Come November, it might be legal here.”

He muttered something I didn‟t quite catch. Before I

could ask him to clarify—not that I really wanted to hear his
undoubtedly snide comment—he spoke again. “You‟ve been
engaged before, haven‟t you?” He inclined his head and lifted
one eyebrow. “To a woman?”

So he did keep tabs on me. Well, when I was being a

good little heterosexual, anyway. “Yes, I was. A few years
ago.”

He scowled. “But now you‟re with a man, even though

you‟re obviously capable of having a normal relationship
with a woman, so—”

“Being with a woman in the past doesn‟t mean a

damned thing. I told you, Russ, I‟m bisexual. I‟ve had
relationships with men and women.”

He flinched, dropping his gaze, and I gritted my teeth as

I went on.

“I was in love with her then. I‟m in love with Dustin

now.”

“Obviously being „in love‟ lasts a hell of a long time with

you, doesn‟t it?” He laughed bitterly. “Thanks for proving my
point.”

I narrowed my eyes. “This from a man who‟s been

married twice.”

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He glared at me. “Look,” he growled, “what you do, it‟s

not natural. I don‟t condone it. I don‟t want my kids around
it.”

“It? How about me? You know, your brother?”

He glared at me. “You are it, Brandon. I don‟t hate you,

but I won‟t abide by what you are or welcome it into my
home. I‟d hoped you'd grow out of it eventually, but
obviously you haven‟t.”

“Jesus, Russell,” I said, forcing back the lump that rose

in my throat. “You don‟t grow out of loving someone.”

“If that‟s what you call loving someone, then perhaps

you should.”

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Arguing like

this wasn‟t going to get us anywhere. Time for a different
approach.

“Listen,” I said, injecting as much calm as I could into

my voice, “there‟s more to me than just my sexuality.”

Sighing, he rested his chin on his hand and looked at

me. “What is it you want, then, Brandon?”

Tristan‟s words from the other day echoed through my

mind. Willing my voice to be steady, I said, “I want my
brother back.”

Russell released a long breath. He leaned to one side,

slowly letting his head fall into his hand. As he rubbed his
forehead with his fingertips, his shoulders dropped a little,
and something in him seemed to deflate.

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“Look, I know we have our differences,” I said quietly. “I

don‟t know if we‟ll ever be able to see eye-to-eye on this, but
I‟m still your brother.”

“I know you are.” His tone was flat. “And through all

these years, I haven‟t gone a day without thinking about you
and wondering what you‟re doing.”

“Neither have I.” My heart pounded. Is that a glimmer of

hope? Please, God…. “I didn‟t come here expecting everything
from the past to be erased and forgotten, I just wanted, you
know, to try to talk things through. Regardless of what
happened, I‟ve missed you.”

“I‟ve missed you too,” he said quietly. “I‟m just….” He

exhaled hard, and it was a frustrated sound.

“You what?”

Russell fixed his gaze on something on the coffee table.

“Kimberly and I have been married a long time. Almost a
decade now.” He paused. I wasn‟t sure where he was going
with this, so I didn‟t interrupt. Clearing his throat, he
continued. “We have a few friends and hobbies apart from
each other, but for the most part, it‟s us. When we visit
family, we visit together. When people send us Christmas
cards and wedding invitations, they‟re addressed to both of
us.”

“Right,” I said, still not quite sure where this was going.

“Because you‟re a family.”

“Yes, exactly. Being married tends to do that.” He looked

me in the eye. “So if this relationship you have with him is
what you claim it is, then being a part of your life means

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being a part of your life with him.” The single-shouldered
shrug was almost apologetic. “And I just can‟t do that.”

My mouth went dry and my heart dropped. “Russell….”

“I‟m sorry, Brandon.” He shook his head and stood. “I

just can‟t accept it. And as long as you insist on living like
that, then I can‟t accept you.” I watched slack-jawed as he
walked across the living room. Just before he disappeared
down the hall, he looked over his shoulder. “You know where
the door is.”

And with that, my brother was gone.

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Chapter 9

FEW

blocks from my brother‟s house, I pulled over. It took

everything I had to shift the car into park, the gearshift
moving as if I were pushing it through concrete. I left the
engine running and let my head fall back against the
headrest.

Sheets of rain smeared the scenery outside. The rapid

percussion of thousands of fat, heavy raindrops on the roof
sounded like machine-gun fire, and if I‟d had it in me to
care, I might have wondered if it was hailing.

But I didn‟t have it in me, and I simply sat, staring out

the windshield and listening to my own heartbeat over the
rapid-fire rain.

Had that conversation really happened?

It would have been easier to take if he‟d screamed at me

like he‟d done years ago. Even if it meant taking a fist to the
face again, I could have handled it. I could have lived with a
screaming match. Shout at me, swing at me, cuss me out,
throw me out. But no, after all this time, he could calmly
look me in the eye and tell me, in not so many words, that I
was subhuman, abhorrent, disgusting….

I exhaled hard and clenched my jaw. All those old

wounds, long since scarred over, reopened.

Yeah. It really happened.

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I sighed, blinking back the threat of tears. I should have

known. Tristan had approached Dustin, and even he‟d still
had his reservations. Russell had steered clear of me all
these years. What was I thinking?

That I wanted my brother back.

“Fat chance,” I whispered into the thundering rain.

Eventually, I put the car back in drive and headed

home. I navigated the roads on autopilot, obeying the
commands of the GPS unit without thought or question.
Even after I was on familiar streets and no longer needed its
directions, I didn‟t bother turning off the route guidance.
Just reaching for the off switch took energy and
concentration I didn‟t have.

I got out of the car and walked across the parking lot to

the stairwell. On some level, I was aware of the rain on my
skin and in my eyes, but I made no effort to shield myself
from it or get under cover. I fumbled with my keys. Couldn‟t
figure out why my house key wouldn‟t turn the deadbolt.
Muttered under my breath when I realized it was the key to
my office, not my house.

At last I found the proper key and let myself in.

I dropped my jacket on a chair and looked around the

empty condo, wondering what the hell to do with the rest of
the evening. It was nearly six o‟clock. Dustin‟s last client was
at five, so he‟d be along in the next half hour or so, but until
then, the house was cold and quiet.

There was no way in hell I could focus enough to grade

exams tonight. Shooting pool entailed enthusiasm I didn‟t

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have. Reading required too much thought; television
demanded too little.

I sat on the couch and ran my hands through my hair.

My eyes didn‟t sting. My chest didn‟t ache, nor did my
throat. My stomach wasn‟t queasy.

I felt nothing, and that numbness went straight to the

bone.

Finally, I went out onto the patio. Resting my hands on

the icy wrought-iron railing, I closed my eyes and let the rain
run through my hair and under my collar. The more it
saturated my clothing and chilled my skin, the more I could
convince myself the numbness came from the cold without
rather than within.

Over and over, my conversation with Russell replayed

itself in my mind. Each time was less real. It was a dream
that had tricked my mind into believing it had actually
happened. Just a fucked-up dream that would eventually
fade into a distant memory.

Except it had happened.

For the last sixteen years, I‟d hoped against all hope

that Russell and I would get the chance to sit down and talk
things through. I‟d gone through a million possible outcomes
in my mind. Apologies. A screaming match. Reconciliation.
Another punch thrown.

Never, however, had I imagined him calmly spelling out

to me why he couldn‟t accept me. His right hook hadn‟t hurt
nearly as much as his parting words.

“I’m sorry, Brandon.”

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“I just can’t accept it. And as long as you insist on living

like that, then I can’t accept you.”

“You know where the door is.”

The sting of tears worked its way past the numbness. I

sniffed them back, blinking until my vision cleared. Then I
closed my eyes and tilted my head back. Cold water slid
across my lips, my eyes, through my hair, down my neck.
When my eyes burned again, I told myself it was from the
rainwater.

The sliding glass door hissed open, then closed. The

hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. I let my head fall
forward, keeping my eyes closed as cold streams trickled
from my hair down my face.

“You know, you wouldn‟t get wet if you stayed inside.”

His voice had just the slightest playful lilt to it, and I almost
managed a smile.

“Just needed some air.”

Dustin‟s footsteps nearly drowned in the rain as he

came closer. After a moment, his hands came to rest on my
hips. With the warmth of his hands and the nearness of his
body, I slowly became aware of the cold water and rain-
saturated clothes against my skin.

“Hey,” he said. “You okay?”

I nodded slowly, the effort of that lie damn near

knocking my exhausted knees out from under me.

His hands moved from my hips to my shoulders. “No,

you‟re not,” he whispered. “Talk to me, Brandon.”

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I wasn‟t sure how I was going to relay the story without

breaking down. Just thinking about it was almost too much.
Talking about it was a whole different ballgame.

Swallowing hard in one last ditch effort to keep the tears

at bay, I turned around to face him.

The instant I laid eyes on Dustin, an epiphany came

crashing through my consciousness. The threat of tears was
gone in a heartbeat, making way for teeth-grinding rage. In
order to accept me, my brother expected me to walk away
from this? From the man who loved me unconditionally and
at more than a little personal expense?

In that moment, I realized the only way I could ever

rebuild the bridge with Russell was to burn the one with
Dustin. Dustin, whose touch could right almost any wrong.
Dustin, who was here now, standing with me in the cold,
pouring rain.

Fuck Russell. Fuck anyone who thought I belonged

anywhere but with Dustin.

He brushed a raindrop off my cheekbone. “What

happened?”

I didn‟t even know where to begin, and I suddenly didn‟t

care. Words failed to matter as much as I failed to find them,
so I cradled his neck in both hands and kissed him. After
only a split second‟s hesitation, he wrapped his arms around
me and returned my kiss.

I didn‟t feel the rain, just him. Something had my

stomach coiled and my shoulders knotted, but all of that
melted away when Dustin‟s fingertips trailed down the side
of my face and neck like warm raindrops.

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I broke the kiss and looked at him in what little light

spilled out of our living room onto this dark balcony. His hair
and clothes were as drenched as mine. Thick rivers trickled
down the sides of his face and pooled in between us as he
held me close to him.

The rain cooled my skin, and my teeth might have

chattered had it not been for the fury that heated my blood
to just shy of boiling.

There were those in the world who thought this was

wrong. Those who would turn their backs on their own flesh
and blood over this. Those who would deny me this moment
of looking into someone‟s eyes and knowing this was where I
belonged.

Every last one of them—the self-righteous bastard who

called himself my brother included—could suck my left nut.

Cocking his head slightly, Dustin raised an eyebrow. “I

get the feeling it didn‟t go well.”

“No. It didn‟t.” I pulled him closer. “I just can‟t quite

bring myself to give a fuck right now.”

He didn‟t question me. Instead, he whispered through

chattering teeth, “We should go inside.” He touched my face
with an unsteady hand. Though his skin was cool and mine
nearly numb, his body heat still radiated through just
enough to warm wherever his hand made contact.

“You‟re right,” I said, raising my chin to kiss him again,

“we should go inside.”

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Chapter 10

OLD

, wet clothing was a distant memory. Lying in bed

together, there was nothing left between us but heat. Only
his cool, wet hair between my fingers reminded me that we‟d
ever been out in the rain at all.

The storm outside battered the window, creating a

backbeat to our slow, ragged breathing and the soft hiss of
skin brushing skin. His abs quivered beneath my trailing
fingertips, and his palm traced the curve of my spine from
the small of my back to the base of my neck. My skin tingled
wherever he touched me, and wherever he didn’t touch
tingled with the need for contact.

Hands on skin. Mouths moving together. Bodies so close

I could feel his heart beat. Not even an inch of space between
us.

No matter how much we kissed and touched, we just

couldn‟t get close enough.

“I think,” he whispered, barely breaking the kiss, “we

need a condom.”

“I think you‟re right.”

He pushed himself up to let me roll onto my side. I

reached for the nightstand drawer to get the condom and
lube. Before I‟d even shut the drawer, Dustin‟s hand came to
rest on my waist. The pressure was light, but unmistakably

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don’t move. I didn‟t. I just set the condom and lube on the
nightstand and closed my eyes as he kissed beneath my
shoulder blades.

The gentle warmth of his lips sent a shiver through me,

and that shiver left dozens of goose bumps in its wake.
Dustin kissed his way down my spine, his soft goatee as cool
against my skin as his lips and breath were warm. He
paused when he reached the small of my back. There he
flicked his tongue across my spine, and when I shivered
again, a quiet huff of laughter heated my skin.

He started back up, dropping light kisses on each

vertebra in turn. The further up my back he went, the more
his body molded against mine, hot skin coming in contact
with hot skin. The more I felt, the more I needed, so I
pressed against him, biting my lip when his hard cock
brushed my leg.

He put his hand on my arm and slowly let it drift down

to my elbow and along my forearm. His fingertips were
almost as ticklish on the back of my hand as his goatee was
on the back of my shoulder. I splayed my fingers, and his
slipped between mine, clasping my hand as his lips worked
their way up the side of my neck.

“I want you so bad right now,” he whispered. He didn‟t

wait for a response; he released my hand and reached for the
nightstand.

“How do you want me?” I asked.

Dustin tore the wrapper and rolled the condom on.

Reaching for the lube, he said, “Get up on your knees.”

I did, and the click of the lube bottle made my teeth

chatter with anticipation. The sheets bunched in my hands,

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and I bit my lip, trying to stay sane for the handful of
maddening seconds it took for Dustin to put the lube on and
get behind me.

Finally, he was there. He steadied me—both of us,

perhaps—with a hand on my hip as he guided his cock to
me. When he pushed in, we both exhaled. Electricity rippled
up my spine as he slid deeper inside me.

He shifted slightly, and his chest warmed my back as

one hand came down beside mine on the bed. The other arm
wrapped around me, his hand resting right over my
pounding heart.

“Every time I‟m inside you,” he whispered, “I just want

to grab on and fuck you. Hard.” He withdrew slowly. Then he
slid back in, and as he spoke again, he sounded breathless.
“But this way… like….” He groaned, burying his face against
my neck. “You just feel so fucking good like this.”

“You feel….” I closed my eyes and moaned. “Jesus,

Dustin, you feel… amazing.”

Two years into our relationship, our sex life was just as

passionate, both of us just as insatiable, as the day we‟d
met, but this was different. This was the kind of sex that was
designed to put the world back on its axis, and with every
stroke he took, with every brush of his lips against my skin,
it did just that. This wouldn‟t fix all that was wrong in our
universe, but it reaffirmed the bond between us. It reaffirmed
us.

I’m here. You’re here. Nothing else matters.

One hand left my hip and slid up my spine. I arched my

back. He gripped my shoulder, thrusting a few times before
his hand continued up my neck. He combed his fingers

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through my hair, opening and closing his hand, but not
grabbing hold. I held my breath, silently begging him, do it,
do it, yes, do it….

But still he teased me.

“Dustin—”

He grabbed my hair. My scalp stung and every inch of

my skin instantly prickled with goose bumps. I closed my
eyes and moaned.

“Like that?” he growled, thrusting into me just hard

enough to keep speech at bay. “Tell me, Brandon.”

“Yes,” I finally managed. Tears stung my eyes. God in

heaven, no one knew how to turn me on like Dustin. He
didn‟t just turn me on, he electrified every nerve ending and
effortlessly drove me to the very edge of madness, and if he
didn‟t stop, I‟d be over that edge in no time.

He did stop, though.

Before I could protest, he said, “I want you on your

back. So I can see you.” He pulled out and reached for the
lube while I changed positions.

After he‟d put on some more lube, he pushed into me

slowly, releasing a long breath as he did. He watched himself
take a few long, deep strokes, his eyebrows raised and lips
parted in an expression of nothing less than wonderment.
Then his eyes flicked up to meet mine, and he moistened his
lips as he leaned down to kiss me.

I wrapped my arms around him and let myself get lost

in him. The taste of his kiss. The heat of his breath and skin,
the smooth, fluid strokes he took inside me. The musky
scent of sweat and him.

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He raised his head, and for a moment we simply looked

at each other. Barely moving, barely breathing, just… seeing.

Finally Dustin broke the silence with a hoarse whisper:

“God, I love you.”

“I love you too,” I murmured as he came back down to

me.

Like a splash of cold water in the face, my brother‟s

voice and all its disgust worked its way unbidden into my
consciousness:

“That’s not love.”

Falser words had never been spoken. Holding on to

Dustin, wanting nothing more in the world than to be as
close to him as humanly possible, I couldn‟t imagine being
more in love with anyone. If this wasn‟t love, then love didn‟t
exist.

I held Dustin tighter and rocked my hips back, urging

him to move a little faster, and he took the hint, abandoning
slow and gentle in favor of fast and desperate. Every stroke
was more intense than the last. Before long we were
breathing too hard to kiss anymore, so he rested his
forehead against mine.

“You feel incredible,” he whispered.

“So do—” My breath caught. Lightning surged through

my veins and coiled itself around my spine. “Oh, God…
keep… keep doing that.”

“Like this?” he asked, panting against my lips.

“Yeah, just… fuck….” I held his shoulders, my fingers

slipping on his perspiration-slicked skin.

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“Come for me.” His lips brushed mine. “I know you‟re

close, I can—” He gasped as my back arched off the bed.
When he spoke again, it was a breathless, unsteady plea.
“Come for me, Brandon.”

My eyes rolled back, my whole body seized, and I was

gone.

“Oh fuck….” His words came out as little more than a

ragged breath. “Fuck, Brandon, you‟re… this… I….” He
moaned, his whole body shuddering against mine. “Oh…
Jesus….” He shuddered again, and the moan rose to a roar
as he fucked me harder, deeper, taking rapid, uneven
thrusts until he finally whimpered, shivered, and slumped
over me.

Then he pulled out slowly before collapsing beside me.

“That was,” I said between gasps for air, “incredible.”

He wiped sweat from his brow. “Are you suggesting that

sex with me is ever anything short of incredible?”

I laughed. “You know what I mean.”

He propped himself up on his arm and kissed me.

“Yeah, I know what you mean. And yes, it was fucking
incredible.” Another light kiss. “You‟re welcome.”

I rolled my eyes and laughed. “Oh, shut up.”

“What?” He chuckled before kissing me one more time.

Then he got up and handed me some tissues off the
nightstand before stepping away to take care of the condom.
Once tissues and condom were in the trash, he rejoined me
in bed, facing me on his side.

“So what happened?” he asked. “With your brother?”

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I shook my head. “Doesn‟t matter.”

He ran the backs of his fingers along my jaw. “It

doesn‟t?”

“Nothing‟s changed,” I said with a shrug.

“So it was a waste of time?”

I pursed my lips. “No. No, it wasn‟t. At least now I

know.”

“I‟m sorry it didn‟t work out, though,” he said quietly.

I shrugged with one shoulder. “It was worth a try.”

“True. Maybe he‟ll come around eventually.”

“I doubt it.” Running my fingers through his hair, I

added, “But I don‟t intend to lose any more sleep over it.”
Because I still have you.

“Good.” He kissed me gently. With his thumb, he

brushed a drop of sweat off my temple. “Should we grab a
shower?”

“In a minute.” I stroked his hair again. “I don‟t want to

move yet.”

“Just say when.” Dustin smiled. “I‟m not going

anywhere.”

Something about those simple words made my heart

skip. He wasn‟t going anywhere, and I couldn‟t think of
anything in the world that mattered more.

I‟d told him nothing had changed, and that much was

true where my brother was concerned. He would always be
my brother, but biology and DNA were only so binding. There
were compromises that couldn‟t be made.

Rain | L.A. Witt

Russell would go on with his life without me. On some

level, that reality still hurt, but letting him walk out—or,
rather, stay out—of my life was infinitely easier to take
knowing Dustin was staying right here beside me. Dustin‟s
presence meant I could make peace with my brother‟s
absence.

“Hey.” He touched my arm. “You went quiet.”

I bit my lip, avoiding his eyes for a second. Then I

turned on my side. “Let‟s do it.”

His brow furrowed. “Do what?”

“Get married.” I paused. “Now.”

“Now?” Dustin blinked. “Like, tonight?”

“Why not?” I shrugged. “Grab the rings, pack an

overnight bag, get in the car, and go. We could drive through
the night, be married tomorrow afternoon, and be back
Sunday night before anyone ever knows we were gone.”

“You‟re—” He stared at me incredulously. “You‟re

serious.”

“Completely.” I swallowed. “Let‟s go. Tonight.”

He grinned. “Before you lose your nerve?”

“No,” I said, stroking his hair. “Before I lose my mind.”

He swallowed hard, running his fingers through my

hair. “But I thought you wanted to wait until November.
After the election.”

I shook my head. “I don‟t care about that now.”

“It won‟t be legal, though,” he said. “I mean, it will be in

Canada, but not here.”

Rain | L.A. Witt

“I don‟t care if it‟s legal as long as it‟s real.”

Dustin‟s lips parted. He touched my face, looking me in

the eye. “Are you sure? I mean, your mom—”

“Will get over it.” I put my hand over his. “This is about

us. No one else.” I kissed him gently. “Dustin, I love you. I
don‟t want to wait.”

He smiled. “Then we won‟t.” The pad of his thumb

drifted over my cheekbone, his gentle touch making me
shiver. “I do think we should wait a little while, though.”

My heart sank. “How long?”

As he leaned in to kiss me again, he said, “Well, at least

until we‟ve gotten that shower.” Our lips met as he clasped
his hand in mine. “And maybe come back to bed.” He rolled
me onto my back and kissed my neck as he pinned my arm
to the bed. “And gotten dirty all over again.”

I closed my eyes and sucked in a breath as his goatee

tickled my neck. “I guess we could wait a little while,
then….”

He raised his head and grinned at me. “Might be more

than a little while.” A light kiss, broken only to add, “Hope
you don‟t mind.”

He didn‟t give me a chance to respond.

Rain | L.A. Witt

Chapter 11

YING

in our hotel bed, I thumbed my ring. The thick gold

band would take some getting used to, that was for sure.
Every time I moved my fingers, I could feel its alien presence,
but it wasn‟t uncomfortable.

I wasn‟t the only one who‟d have to get used to it. People

at the club where Dustin and I played pool would probably
notice, especially those who‟d whispered behind their hands
recently about the nature of our “friendship.” It would
definitely raise some eyebrows at work. My mother was going
to have a fit.

Oh well. They could all learn to deal with it, because I

wasn‟t going to hide the ring any more than I would hide
Dustin.

“Easy habit to get into, isn‟t it?”

I looked up and realized Dustin was awake.

“What?” I asked.

He smiled sleepily and nodded toward my hand.

“Playing with the ring.”

I laughed. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

He held his hand up, thumbing his own ring, and I

couldn‟t help smiling at the sight of the band around his
finger. We‟d done it. We‟d really done it. Quietly, without any

Rain | L.A. Witt

pomp and circumstance, and in another country, but we‟d
done it nonetheless. Maybe someday it would be legal, but at
least it was real.

Dustin craned his neck and glanced out the window.

“You‟d think, with as far as we had to drive, we could have
gotten away from the damned rain.”

“You would think.”

“Eh, it‟s just some rain, I guess.” He made a dismissive

gesture toward the window and turned back to me. “Isn‟t
rain on your wedding day supposed to be good luck or
something?”

“Fuck if I know,” I said with a shrug, “but it‟s as good an

excuse as any to stay indoors.”

“Like we need an excuse.”

“Good point.”

He shifted onto his side. I mirrored him, his dog tags

jingling softly as I moved. He picked up the tags, turning
them in his fingers for a moment before letting them fall
again. Then, draping his arm over my waist, he raised his
head off the pillow and leaned in for a gentle kiss. “You know
what the best part of being married is?” He kissed his way
down to my neck, raising goose bumps all along my back
and arms

I shivered as his goatee tickled my neck. “Hmm?”

“Consummating it.”

I laughed. “And we haven‟t already consummated it?

Twice?”

Rain | L.A. Witt

He grinned against my skin and pulled me to him. “Just

have to make sure. Don‟t want to neglect these things.”

I tried to laugh, but it came out as little more than a

sigh when his hard cock pressed against my hip. “You are
insatiable sometimes, you know that?”

He lifted his head and eyed me. “Sometimes? What do

you mean sometimes?”

“Most of the time.”

His eyebrow jumped.

I laughed. “Okay, you‟re just insatiable. Always.”

“Thank you.” He kissed me and clasped our hands

together. When he raised our joined hands, he smiled as my
ring caught the light. After a moment, a mischievous
expression lit up his face. “Think they‟ll let us across the
border when we‟re in possession of an illegal marriage?”

I chuckled. “We don‟t have to tell them.”

“Isn‟t that considered smuggling?”

We both laughed.

“So what do we do if the bill passes and it becomes legal

in our state?” he asked.

I shrugged. “Then I guess we do it all over again, and my

mother gets to make her son have the big crazy wedding
she‟s been asking for.”

Dustin groaned melodramatically and rolled onto his

back. “Ugh, do we have to?”

I laughed. “No, we don‟t.”

Rain | L.A. Witt

He put the back of his hand to his forehead and let out

an exaggerated sigh. “Thank God.”

“Besides, I think this is more than enough, don‟t you?”

He looked at me and smiled. “Absolutely.” As he reached

for my face, he said, “In fact, this is all I ever wanted.”

“Me too.”

Dustin kissed me and pulled the blanket back up over

us.

Life wouldn‟t be perfect. There would always be Russells

who couldn‟t see past what we were, and Tristans who could
only forget for so long who we were. Not every burned bridge
would be rebuilt, not every wound would heal. There would
be good times and bad, sickness and health. There would be
sun and there would be rain.

But Dustin and I had each other. Life wouldn‟t be

perfect, but this imperfect life was ours, and we would live
it—rainstorms, speed bumps, burned bridges, and all—
together.

Read how Brandon and Dustin‟s story began in

http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com

ITT

is a full-time writer in the romance and erotica

genres currently living in Okinawa, Japan, with her husband
and two cats. She has been writing since grade school, but it
wasn‟t until she started dabbling in romance—both gay and
straight—that she found her niche. When she‟s not writing,
she enjoys photography and generally getting into mischief.

Visit her blog at http://www.loriawitt.com/.

Rain ©Copyright L.A. Witt, 2010

Published by
Dreamspinner Press
4760 Preston Road
Suite 244-149
Frisco, TX 75034
http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the
authors’ imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead,
business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Cover Art by Justin James http://www.wix.com/qpm2010/justinjames

This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is
illegal and a violation of International Copyright Law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon
conviction, fines, and/or imprisonment. This eBook cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No
part of this eBook can be shared or reproduced without the express permission of the Publisher. To
request permission and all other inquiries, contact Dreamspinner Press at: 4760 Preston Road, Suite
244-149, Frisco, TX 75034 http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/

Released in the United States of America
October 2010

eBook Edition
eBook ISBN: 978-1-61581-645-3

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