Understanding dawns—so she thinks. “He’s your helper.”
That’s one word for it, I suppose.
“Yes, Mom. Exactly. He goes everywhere with me and helps me out. I really count on him.” His gaze meets mine but doesn’t linger long. “Where’s Dad?”
“He’s out in the north field, working on the irrigation system.” She smiles. “I’ll call him and ask him to come in to eat lunch. Oh, he’s going to be so surprised!”
“Thanks. Hey, do you mind if I show Jordan around upstairs?”
“No, go right ahead, honey. Do you want lunch? I haven’t made ours yet.”
“Thanks, Mom. We’d appreciate that.”
In the kitchen is one of the areas where I excel. “Is there anything I can do to help, ma’am?” I have a feeling I’ll never be calling her Mom.
“No, that’s all right, sweetie. I’ve got it. Let Elliot show you around, if he wants.”
After she turns and starts to make her way down the hall, Jordan drops me a wink. Then he turns and follows her, and I fall in step behind him. When we reach the stairs, he leads the way up.
I can see what he means, though, when he told me that him staying with his parents was never practical. The house is tidy and clean, but between the steep stairs and the narrow doorways, it would have been difficult for him to get around with his walker, and impossible with his wheelchair.
He opens the door to one bedroom and smiles as we walk in. The furniture’s old and plain, but as with the rest of the house, the room is tidy and clean. There’s a bed, a single, along with a narrow dresser. But the sewing table in one corner speaks to this room’s repurposing. It’s not a large room, smaller than my old bedroom at my parents’ house.
He sits on the bed and smiles up at me. “Feel like getting frisky, Sir?” he whispers. “I had a lot of sexy dreams in this bed.”
I chuckle. “Not with your Mom downstairs, no.” Although it would be tempting as hell, if we were alone in the house, to put him on his knees and fuck his mouth, so he’d have a good memory of this room to carry with him.
He lays back on the bed and, still whispering, says, “I can’t tell you how many nights the only way I could fall asleep was to masturbate to fantasies of me finally getting to be with a guy.”
That’s when it hits me.
Leo’s never set foot inside this room. Hell, he’s never been inside thishouse. It wouldn’t shock me if he’s driven by the property, or diverted a spy satellite to take high-quality photos of the property, or something like that.
But Elliot’s never brought Leo here.
I sit on the edge of the bed as Elliot sits up and moves over to give me room. “Why did you bring me here when you’ve never brought Leo?” We’re still whispering.
His smile fades and his gaze focuses on the ceiling for a moment. “He got nearly all the big firsts with me. I wasn’t really thinking about it like that when I decided to come here, but I’d be lying if I didn’t admit I like the symmetry of it. If I ever do come out, I might never be welcomed here again, so bringing him would be moot.” He looks at me. “Do you think he’ll be upset?”
Oh, boy.He just saidifhe ever comes out.
Notwhen.
Not my job to manage his relationship with Leo, but this is going to crush the man. It’s almost enough to make me feel sorry for the sadist.
I reach over and stroke Elliot’s hair. Like this, without the suit, and with his glasses, he looks like a hot guy who’s well within my reach, not the scorching hot government executive who’s one breath from the nuclear codes anddefinitelyout of my league.
“I think Leo is pragmatic. He’s going to be upset about you not telling him you’re running before he hears it elsewhere.” Yeah, I know I could easily stop that…but, you know…
#pettybitch
I can also take the cop-out that it’s a work-related issue I won’t interfere with.
#stillpetty
“He has to know I’m running.”
“Did you ever say the words to him, ‘Leo, I’m running’?”
