“Black Labrador mix. A rescue! He’s a great dog!” Tanner didn’t hesitate to back up Lance’s story.
“What a great breed! Such good dogs. I had one as a kid, you know,” he said, with pride. “Well, alright then. You boys drive safe!”
“Will do,” Tanner promised.
“You’re leaving?” Lance’s mother asked, as she walked quickly towards them, holding a Tupperware container.
“We are—” Lance agreed. “Dog to feed, work to do,” he said with a casual wave. “But I’ll see you soon, okay?”
“Oh—” she replied, with a searching look at Lance and Tanner. “Then I guess—” she added, clearly disappointed. “Here,” she said, handing Lance the Tupperware container. “Here’s some snickerdoodles for the road,” she said, with a sad, repentant gaze. He nodded, and as he hugged her, she whispered very softly, “Thanks for helping your brother.”
It wasn’t an apology, but he hadn’t expected one.
She stepped back and turned to Tanner. “Thank you for coming and for all of your help today,” she said to Tanner with a much warmer smile than she’d shown him earlier. Tanner thanked her for the cookies and then they headed out the door.
They didn’t speak until Tanner was backing Big Blue down the driveway.
“Your mother isn’t very fond of me, is she?”
“I—” he hesitated. “You noticed?”
“I’m a smart guy,” Tanner said, shrugging.
“That you are—handsome too,” Lance responded with a wink. “Have I told you that, lately?”
“Hmmm—can’t recall, no,” Tanner replied, playing right along as he kept his eyes on the road.
“Well, you are. Smart, and kind, and handsome, with a pretty decent di—”
“Alright, alright,” Tanner interrupted him as his face heated. He extended his right hand in Lance’s direction.
Lance smiled, taking it into his own, and interlacing their fingers. Lance squeezed his hand. Tanner barked out a laugh and then squeezed back. When Lance met his gaze, he looked amused and there was a spark of sexual heat that Tanner couldn’t help reacting to.
“I was asking for a cookie, but this is nice too,” he said, before lifting Lance’s hand to his mouth and pressing a warm kiss to his knuckles. It was really cheesy, and Lance certainly didnotblush as he rolled his eyes and pulled his hand away.
Tanner laughed as he put both hands back on the wheel while Lance popped open the container. He pulled out a cookie and handed it over. Tanner polished it off in two bites. Amazing what all that wonderful fat and sugar could do to revive a person.
“Sweet baby Jesus! If she keeps baking these, she can call me a cripple any day of the week and twice on Sunday,” Tanner remarked, reaching into the open container for another cookie.
“Oh, shit! You heard that?”
“Every glorious word,” Tanner confirmed, with a nod. “You butt dialed me while I was in the can,” he said, chuckling.
In total disbelief, Lance reached for his phone to pull up his call history, wondering how he could have been so careless.
“So much for beingsmart,—” Lance muttered in protest. “I’m sorry you had to hear that. I’m not sure why she said that—she’s not usually like that, I swear.”
“I look like an ex-con, Lance. Of course, she doesn’t like me.”
“No, you don’t!” Lance denied vehemently. Tanner shot him a quick look of sardonic amusement before returning his attention to the road.
“Trust me on this. The tattoos, the scars, not to mention the duffle-sized bags under my eyes. Moms have a sixth sense for shit like that. They see me and immediately think—hide your daughters.”
“That’s ridiculous!” But as he studied Tanner’s profile, he had to acknowledge that Tanner did look a bit rough around the edges. He wasn’t anywhere close to looking like an ex-con, but he certainly did have abad boyaura that was hard to miss.
He was very handsome, which was one thing he and his mother could agree on, but he was also—striking and had presence. He didn’t blend into a crowd like Lance did. Tanner would always stand out, for better or worse. With that long, wavy hair he ran his hands through all the time, leaving it perpetually messy. Sharp, defined jaw covered by a short scruffy beard. A variety of scars running through his eyebrows, down his neck, under his chin, and then, of course, there were all those lovely, colorful tattoos. Most of them were hidden under his shirt, but some were visible along his collarbones, and down his biceps. Lance had noticed all these things before and admired them. He'd—well, he’d been jealous of them, really. They made him sodistinctive. So unlike Lance. Once he’d gotten over his jealousy of Tanner’s uniqueness, he’d moved on to wanting to claim Tanner for himself, revel in their many differences, and worship every inch of his body.
Jesus, he was a goner. He had it so bad. He smiled to himself, then snickered.
