After about ten minutes they reached his house. Pride rose within him that this pretty limestone with a small garden and glossy black wrought-iron fencing in the front belonged to him. Instead of going up the steps, he stopped and faced Reed, who slouched against the fence, a tired but quizzical expression in his eyes.
“This is my home. Mine and Jacks’s. I’ve never brought anyone here before, but I’d like you to come inside and see how we live. If you want to, of course,” he added hastily, suddenly cognizant that he’d dragged Reed here without any idea what the hell he was getting into. “I mean, I understand if you’re overwhelmed by all this, but I wanted to explain Jacks’s situation to you, and if you still want to be involved with me after that,”—he scrubbed his face with his hands, then smiled tiredly—“I’d like to try.”
In wooing new clients to sign with his firm or in negotiations over contracts Carter prided himself on possessing a natural instinct to pick up positive signals and move in to finalize the deal, or cut his losses when the transaction went sour. But that was business, something he was familiar with. In treading the waters of personal entanglements, Carter was a novice and more scared to hear Reed’s answer than if he was diving off a high board, fifty feet in the air.
Reed closed the distance between them, and wrapped Carter in his arms. A quiet peace descended over them in the hushed pre-dawn on this narrow little street. A wonderful languor stole through Carter as they stood, clutching each other.
“Don’t worry about me leaving, Carter. I’ve been running for forever, and I’m ready to be caught. After you tell me your story, I’ll tell you my own. But I promise I won’t be going anywhere unless you’re with me.”
Chapter Fifteen
‡
Having no ideawhat to expect from Carter any longer, Reed certainly didn’t imagine him living in a house where, when he entered and followed Carter down the side hall, almost all the free space on the walls was filled with pictures drawn by a young child. Or where a big box of Legos sat side by side with a state-of-the-art computer system Carter needed for his publicity campaigns at work.
The kitchen stopped him in his tracks. Comfortable and country-like, glass-fronted light maple cabinets ran the length of the wall painted a mellow lemon-yellow color. A huge center island took up residence on the working side of the room, its wide, white expanse the setting for a large bowl of citrus fruits as well as the art supplies he assumed Jacks was using to create his pictures. The other side of the room had a cozy eating nook, complete with a homey, round wooden table and deep-cushioned chairs. Two bay windows flanked either side of a tiled fireplace, its mantel crowded with pictures of Carter, Jacks, and an older woman.
This home was the antithesis of the style Reed imagined Carter living in. On the weekends when he and Carter didn’t see each other, Reed had pictured Carter entertaining in a trendy loft apartment with views of the city skyline, the furniture polished and sleek, befitting a high-powered, single Manhattan executive.
Instead he found a home that exuded the essence of family, warmth, and love, and his admiration for Carter grew exponentially, recognizing he’d done all this for his little brother.
He pulled out one of the barstools and sat, patting the seat next to him. “Come on, let’s talk.”
Rather than choosing to sit by his side, Carter circled around to the opposite side of the island to face him. Reed recognized that as a defense mechanism, putting space between them in case Reed bolted.
“Jacks, if you didn’t notice, isn’t your average ten-year-old. Most likely he was born prematurely and he’s had to deal with a whole host of problems. Our mother,”—Carter pursed his lips in distaste—“dropped him off here one day, claiming she was tired of dealing with his issues and didn’t want to be weighed down by him anymore. He’s only recently begun verbalizing, and we have no clear idea what he went through when he lived with her, and maybe we never will. But it doesn’t matter.” Carter’s voice wobbled, and Reed’s heart lurched.
“Of course not. He’s your little brother. You love him.”
“It’s more than that—he was neglected. He wasn’t like me; he didn’t have the capability to be independent and take care of himself. He suffers from anxiety and is slightly learning delayed although he’s recently begun catching up so quickly even the doctors are amazed. I’ve gotten him occupational therapy that dealt with some physical problems, but he still sees a psychiatrist for his other issues.”
Carter braced his elbows on the top of the island and avoided Reed’s gaze, as if he didn’t want to see his expression. “So, if you want to be with me, you also take on the responsibility of Jacks. He’s my brother, and I want him to have the life I never had—family, stability, and love. He’s the reason I only go away once a month; every other weekend I spend with him.”
Watching Carter discreetly wipe at his eyes, Reed blinked away his own tears. How foolish and tragic it would have been for him to walk away from Carter, thinking he was nothing more than a vain and selfish player. What he’d created all on his own paled in comparison to the trials he’d lived through as a child and the selfless dedication he’d shown to his little brother. If Reed had thought he might be in love with Carter before hearing this final piece of his life story, now that love was cemented forever. But the time had arrived for Reed’s own midnight confession. Or, actually five a.m., if one wished to be technical.
“Carter, there’s something—”
“Can we table this for the night, though?” Carter came around from the other side of the island and slipped his arms around Reed, nuzzling into the curve of his shoulder. “I’m beat, and you look half dead as well. I think we ought to get some sleep.”
Thwarted, Reed considered Carter’s suggestion and thought it might be a wise one. He was hardly in the best mindset, and maybe a night’s rest would make it easier to talk. Carter might be worried about Reed’s reaction, but Reed had no problem thinking Carter wouldn’t want the extra burden of a lover with a mental illness.
“Sure, that’s a good idea.”
He allowed himself to be led up the stairs, where they passed a bedroom Reed immediately identified as Jacks’s, with comic book superheroes hanging on the wall. It was the picture perfect boy’s room, and imagining Carter in a children’s store, picking out all the decorations, desperate to give his brother a happy, normal childhood, Reed’s heart squeezed with love for Carter.
They headed to the third level. “Here’s my room.” Carter opened the door to a surprisingly large and airy master bedroom and flicked a switch, turning on a small lamp on the nightstand next to the large king-size bed that dominated the room. The polished oak floors gleamed here as they did in the rest of the house, and small Turkish rugs lay by the side of the bed. In a corner Reed spotted a door leading, he presumed, to an attached bathroom.
Carter closed the door behind him and toed off his sneakers, leaving them to the side of the doorway. “You know, you’re the first man I’ve ever wanted to bring to this house and into my bedroom.” They stripped in silence leaving their clothes on the floor and climbed into the most comfortable bed Reed had ever slept in. Carter rolled toward him and held him close for comfort. “Let’s try and get a little sleep, shall we?”
If Reed had his way, he’d be the last. But he wondered, as he drifted off to sleep with Carter’s arms still around him, if Carter would still want him in the morning.
***
Waking up, Reedstretched and found himself flush up against Carter’s very warm naked chest.
“Good morning, beautiful.”
Sliding his leg over Carter’s hip, Reed nestled his groin against Carter’s, and they rocked, their stiff cocks rubbing and thrusting against one another. Reed reached between their bodies and grasped both their cocks, running his hand up their rigid erections. The coating of their sticky precome helped him stroke faster and harder over the heated silken skin. Carter arched his back, groaning deep in his chest, his dick thickening in Reed’s hand. Liquid seeped steadily from the slit in the wide crown, and Reed knew now, from the increased cadence of Carter’s breath to the tautness and twitching of his muscles, Carter was close to blowing.
