Lance looked quite proud of himself as he brought the purple cow mug to his lips and winked at him again.
It really was unfair, Tanner thought. How was anybody supposed to resist that tractor beam gaze and gorgeous smile? He sure as hell couldn’t. So, he might as well toss in the towel and just accept this gift with good grace.
“Right, then. I’ll wake you when the food gets here,” Lance promised somberly.
No longer able to fight the need for a power nap, Tanner put his head back and closed his eyes. Much to his surprise, he woke up about 15 minutes later to the smell of fresh pancakes, bacon, and more coffee being delivered to their table. He didn’tmiss Lance’s smug smile. Actually, he just—he kind of loved seeing it. And if Tanner noticed a funny little pang ofsomethingnear his heart, he didn’t dwell on it. Not even a little.
Filled with blueberry pancakes and a carafe of coffee, he finally started to feel human again. He grabbed the bill from Kathya before Lance could reach for it.
“Hey, that wasn’t the deal!” Lance protested with righteous indignation reminding Tanner of Cameron.
“Deals change. You need to be more flexible about these things,” he said with a smirk, handing his credit card to Kathya who smiled at him and winked at Lance.
“I’m an accountant—flexible is not in my vocabulary,” Lance muttered grumpily.
Tanner rolled his eyes and ignored him as he chatted with Kathya.
“Do you want two coffees to go?” she asked him.
“If you weren’t already married, I’d propose,” Tanner replied with a wink.
“And if I wasn’t so gay, I’d accept,” she responded sassily as she winked back at him.
“So, two coffees coming up. Two milks for you, right?” she asked, looking down at the pile of empty creamers littering his plate.
“Your wife is damned lucky.”
“And I never let her forget it,” she responded as she headed for the coffee machine, making Tanner burst out laughing.
He turned back to Lance who looked quizzical.
“What?”
“Nothing,” Lance claimed with a quick smile. “Just worried you might launch yourself into outer space if you ingest any more caffeine.”
Tanner didn’t believe him but didn’t pursue it.
*****
Lance wrapped up another client conference call. Kicking back in his chair, he glanced at his watch. By 2:00 p.m., his office was flooded with sunlight, and he realized it was way past lunchtime. He hadn’t heard a peep all day out of his sofa surfer. After returning home from the diner, he’d gotten Tanner to lie down, shutting all the blinds despite Tanner’s protests that it was a wasted effort because he wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway. Of course, Lance had just scoffed at this while tossing a blanket and bed pillow at his head and then left the room.
Even though there were still a few more calls to make and reports to do, he decided to take a quick break to stretch his back and legs. He tiptoed his way down the hall and peeked around the corner into the living room to see whether his plan had worked.
Tanner was fast asleep, mouth hanging open, right arm flung off the side of the couch. He looked—exhausted. Even as he slept, it was obvious that he needed a lot more. Mulling this over, Lance abandoned his plan to go to the kitchen for a glass of lemonade and backtracked silently to his office. He didn’t want to risk waking his sleeping beauty.
Lance had so many unanswered questions. Things he’d desperately wanted to ask Tanner at the diner, but the timing had been all wrong. A part of him wondered when, or if, the timing would ever be right. The list was growing by the hour. Why couldn’t he sleep at night? What had happened to him after the crash? Had he really been held captive for three years? What had triggered a major episode this week? What exactly was wrong with his left leg? He was feverish with the needfor answers, but he recalled the obvious distress on Tanner’s face as he’d tried—and failed—to explain why he couldn’t sleep. He’d looked—ravaged. Since Lance had no prior experience with PTSD or trauma victims, he didn’t know how best to help. On top of all that, an even bigger question had emerged, especially surprising since they barely knew one another. Why did he feel so deeply—involved?
His protective streak must be the answer. Had to be. The same reason for making sure he was always around to drive his brothers to all their sports practices and games. To sit at the dinner table and help them with their homework every night. Apparently, Tanner brought out that same powerful instinct. Tanner, who accepted help about as well as a wolverine accepted cuddles. But Lance thought he might have made some inroads into his standoffishness. Hey, he'd convinced Tanner to eat all of his breakfast and pass out on his damned couch, hadn’t he? If success truly is a series of small victories, then today was a winner!
By 4:00 p.m., Lance decided to shut down his laptop and officially begin his weekend. Lots more reports to do, but his eyes were crossed, and his brain had slowly but surely turned to mush. It was better to knock off work early than to make mistakes he’d end up having to fix on Monday morning. Quietly making his way to the kitchen, he was pleased to see Tanner was still passed out, snuggled under a blanket. He breathed a sigh of relief that he’d been right all along in persuading Tanner to come to his house to get some quality sleep. Plus, there was something also incredibly satisfying about having Tanner there, even if they weren’t talking or doing anything together.
While removing the pitcher of lemonade from the fridge and pouring a glass, he pondered the ramifications of that. Maybe he just needed to be needed. He liked being the one whofriends and family always relied on. But there was also a deeper, more complex side to his budding friendship with Tanner that he couldn’t explain and wasn’t sure he was ready to delve into. So, pushing that aside for now, he focused on the best way to wake up Tanner. When the glass pitcher clunked loudly against his granite countertop, he winced. A few seconds later he heard a sharp intake of breath from the couch and a deep cough. Well, he supposed that was one way to wake sleeping beauty.
“Shit,” Tanner said as he rolled to his feet and struggled to stand. He took a few careful steps but ended up collapsing backwards onto the couch as his left leg buckled. He looked up to find Lance watching him.
Lance could have pretended he didn’t notice Tanner’s struggles to get up but decided not to. Instead, he raised the glass pitcher and asked, “Lemonade?”
Tanner frowned for a moment then nodded, as he slowly got off the couch and made his way to the kitchen. Lance kept him in his peripheral vision as he poured another glass, fighting a smile as Tanner rubbed sleep from his eyes and then tried to smooth down his hair which stuck out in every direction.
