Criminal Pleasures (27 page)

“Neither is the dirty Chinese food splattered all over the rug.”

“I have cookies. But tomorrow you have to start eating like a human again. Deal?”

Marc laughed. “Next you’ll be telling me to clean my house.”

“Yeah, we’ll get to that. Speaking of clean, you want to hit the bathroom first? I’ll get the cookies and change the sheet.”

Marc sat up. “You mean I can’t sleep with this condom on?”

“Uh, I don’t think you’ve devolved into sloth quite that far yet. I hope.”

Marc looked down at him and sighed. “Thank you. For coming to get me.”

Brendan sat up and studied Marc’s face. “Are you going to be okay? Seriously?”

He nodded. “Yes. I promise.”

Brendan looked away, a battle waging inside him. He didn’t want to push Marc, but at the same time felt the overwhelming need to lock down the deal, to make sure he wouldn’t leave him again.

“Brendan, what’s wrong? You’re scowling.”

He shrugged. “Just wondering where I fit in. If anywhere. In your life.”

Marc gave his shoulder a playful shove. “You fit into my ass.”

Brendan laughed. “I’m serious. I don’t want to pressure you after everything you’ve been going through, and I know you said I make you weak, but—”

“Brendan.” Marc grabbed his face. “I was wrong about that. You don’t make me weak. You make me strong. Just being with you now makes me feel better than I have in ages.” He dropped his hands and sighed. “Listen, the past couple months I’ve been telling myself the Gina thing fucked me up. And it did. But I don’t think that’s the reason I was so depressed. I think it’s because you were gone. I know I pushed you away, and that was my decision. But it wasn’t the right decision.”

“Then we can start over?
Again
?” Brendan chuckled.

“Well,” Marc said, raising his eyebrows. “You did say you were in love with me.”

Brendan smirked shyly. “And that’s not weird? Not too soon?”

“The way I figure it,” Marc said, shrugging, “we faced more challenges in the first three weeks than most couples face in two years.”

“Or ever,” Brendan said. “I don’t think most couples have ever had to deal with our shit.”

Marc laughed, nodding. “For their sakes, I hope not.”

“So is that what we are?” Brendan asked, wincing. “A couple?”

Marc smiled. “You’re sweet when you’re insecure.”

“No, I’m not. I’m a lunatic when I’m insecure. And I hate it.”

Marc gazed at Brendan, a frown furrowing his brow. “I want it, Brendan. But are you sure you’re ready? You’ve never been in a relationship with a man. Your friends, your family, they’ll all find out. If you want this, it has to be the whole ball of wax. No hiding in the closet.”

A slight anxiety poked at Brendan as he thought of his father. “I’m ready. But can I ask one small thing?”

Marc shrugged. “Within limits.”

“Can we not tell my father you’re the same cop I was with when the shooting happened? I want him to accept you, not want to sue you. Or kill you.”

Shaking his head, Marc grinned. “You think he’s going to buy that you’ve just suddenly developed a fetish for male detectives?”

“We can say we met at the courthouse. Shit, cops are there all the time. You had to testify on a case or something, and we bumped into each other in the coffee shop.”

“You’re getting good at lying,” Marc said. “I’m impressed.”

“Not as good as you,
Marcello
.”

Marc grabbed his hands, squeezing hard enough to make Brendan flinch. “Here’s the deal, Brendan. I’ll go along with the lie to your father. If you never,
ever
call me that again.”

“Okay. I’m sorry.”

“I love you,” Marc said. “Now go get me cookies.”

Brendan leaned in and kissed him. Marc’s lips parted, his tongue probing Brendan’s mouth tenderly. For all the times he’d kissed Marc, this one felt different. While the taste of Marc’s tongue and the lush softness of his lips still sent an electric jolt through Brendan’s body, it was deeper now. It felt comforting, like coming home.

As the kiss broke, Brendan let out a breath of relief. “I love you, too.” 

Chapter Twenty-Five

“Brendan.”

Brendan sat up in bed, a beam of sunlight making him squint. Marc stood at the end of his bed in boxers and nothing else. He looked alarmed. Tossing the blankets aside, Brendan’s body tensed as alertness gripped him. “What’s wrong?”

“There’s some lady knocking on the door.”

“A lady?”

Marc nodded. “Skinny blonde, late fifties, kind of spruced up?”

The air leaked out of Brendan and his shoulders relaxed. “Oh.”

“Who is she?”

Brendan climbed out of bed and tugged on his pajama bottoms. “Don’t worry. It’s not a mobster. It’s just my Mom.”

Marc’s eyes widened. “Your mother?”

Three knocks sounded.

Brendan winced. “She tends to stop by unannounced.” He looked at Marc. “Find something of mine to put on. I’ll go let her in.”

“Shit.” Marc’s gaze darted around the room. “I didn’t expect to meet your mother like this.”

“Relax,” Brendan said. “At least it’s not my father.”

“Do you want me to hide in here until she leaves?”

Brendan pulled a tee shirt on and grinned at Marc. “Of course not! Get dressed, then come out.”

“Shit,” Marc said. He took a deep breath. “Okay.”

Brendan laughed as he left the room. “Big bad cop, scared of my mom.”

“Moms are scary!” Marc called after him.

Brendan pulled back the curtain on his door and peered out. His mother stood on the porch with a white paper bag, one eyebrow cocked. Brendan opened the door. “Hey, Mom.”

She stepped into the apartment, handing him the bag. “Thank you for making me stand out in the cold for ten minutes. I brought bagels.”

Brendan closed the door. His mother moved into the living room in her long, blue cashmere coat. Her pointed gaze dropped to the mess of Chinese food still splattered on the carpet. “Please tell me that’s not vomit.”

“It’s Chinese food,” Brendan said. “Had a bit of a mishap last night. You want some coffee? I was about to make some.”

She turned around and frowned at him, looking him up and down. “You’re just getting up? It’s after nine, you know.”

He moved toward her, grasping her thin shoulders. “It’s Saturday. I sleep late on Saturdays. Give me a hug.”

She hugged him, patting his back. “I don’t like this apartment. Why don’t you move somewhere nicer?”

He stepped back and smiled at her. “It’s fine, Mom. Coffee?”

“Yes, coffee would be nice.” She glanced at the sofa, her nose wrinkling. “If I sit down is something going to stick to my ass?”

Marc stepped into the room, and Brendan’s mother jumped when she saw him. He’d changed into a pair of Brendan’s gray sweat pants and a red sweatshirt. “Hi.” He stuck his hand out. “I’m Marc.”

She gasped and looked at Brendan. “Brendan! You should have told me you had company, I nearly had a heart attack!” She patted her chest, then turned back to Marc. “I’m sorry.” She shook Marc’s hand. “Virginia Burke. My son didn’t tell me you were here, he enjoys shocking me.”

“Have a seat, Mom, nothing will stick to your ass. I’ll get coffee and bagels ready.”

Brendan looked at Marc, who widened his eyes. He didn’t want to leave him to fend for himself, but breakfast would give them something to do. He gave Marc a grin. “Marc is a police detective, Mom,” he said, so they’d at least have something to talk about. Then he went into the kitchen, wincing, hoping things didn’t implode in there while he was gone.

“A detective,” he heard his mother say. “How interesting.”

Brendan rolled his eyes, and hurriedly set up the coffee maker. He took the bagels out and put them on a tray with the cream cheese and three knives, then quickly brought it into the living room and set it on the coffee table. Marc sat stiffly in a chair while Brendan’s mother unbuttoned her coat, watching him with raised eyebrows. “You didn’t tell me you had company, Brendan.” She sat gingerly down on the sofa, brushing the cushion.

Brendan joined his mother on the sofa. “You didn’t tell me you were coming by,
Mom
.”

She grinned at him as she slid her coat off and rested it on the couch beside her. As always, she was dressed to kill. Black suede skirt with knee high black leather boots, a pink silk blouse with matching pink stone necklace. “If I’d told you I was coming, would you have cleaned the vomit off the floor? Really Brendan, you’re not in college anymore.”

Marc snorted a laugh.

She looked at Marc. “What are
you
laughing at? I’m sure you had something to do with it. You spent the night, after all.”

“Mom!”

“What?” she said innocently. “He’s wearing the sweatshirt I bought you last Christmas.”

Grinning, Marc reached for the bagels. He paused looking at Brendan’s mother. “May I?”

“Go ahead, that’s what they’re for. I got them at that place across the road, Brendan. This neighborhood’s come a long way, I remember back when it was a ghetto.” She glanced at Marc as he spread cream cheese on his bagel. “So Marc, are you the one who almost got Brendan shot?”

Marc had just taken a bite, and he choked a cough.

“Mom!” Brendan said. “I’m sorry, Marc, my mother can be...direct.”

“Am I not supposed to ask that? Brendan, you don’t tell us anything, what am I supposed to do?” She looked at Marc. “I’m sorry.”

Marc wiped cream cheese from his mouth and cleared his throat. “It’s all right, Virginia. To answer your question, no. I’m not that guy. I’m someone else.”

She looked at Brendan. “Well that’s good, I suppose. Though Brendan, you could have told me if you had a boyfriend.”

“Mom! Jesus.”

Marc laughed.

She smiled at him. “See, Marc isn’t bothered by my questions. Are you?”

Marc gave his head a quick shake. “I’ve become accustomed to directness since meeting Brendan. He also tends to cut to the chase when he wants information. You two are a lot alike.”

“You hear that, Brendan?” she said. “We’re a lot alike.”

Brendan stood. “I’ll get the coffee.” He walked to the kitchen, shaking his head.

When he returned, his mother was delicately spreading cream cheese on a bagel with manicured fingers. She glanced up as he set down her coffee. “How is your new job?”

“It’s good,” Brendan said, taking the chair next to Marc. “I like it.”

“Well, your father is furious you didn’t come crawling back to him. I’ll tell him you’re doing well. I won’t mention the mess in your apartment.”

Brendan rolled his eyes. Marc glanced at him, raised his eyebrows, then gave his attention to his coffee, taking a sip.

“You should come by the house soon, Brendan, make peace with your father. Bring Marc if you want.”

“Yeah.” Brendan huffed. “That ought to soften him
right
up.”

She shrugged, chewing. “Well he’ll have to meet him eventually, right?” She looked at Marc. “Or is this just...” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “A
sex
thing.”

Brendan stood. “Mom, for Christ sakes!”

Marc fell back in the chair, laughter pealing out of him.

“What?” She looked up at Brendan, her blue eyes wide. “I can’t ask?”

Brendan growled, lowering himself into the chair. “No, you can’t. Not that that will stop you.”

“Virginia,” Marc said.

She looked at him.

“It’s not just a
sex
thing. I love your son.”

Brendan’s jaw dropped. He looked back and forth between Marc and his mother, stunned.

“
Oh
,” she said, setting her bagel down on the table, wiping her hands. Her eyes met Brendan’s. “You could have told me, Brendan. That there was someone special in your life. Or did you think I’d have a problem with you dating a man?”

Brendan shrugged, his cheeks heating. “I didn’t know, to be honest.”

“Well do you love him?”

He glanced at Marc, then nodded. “Yeah. I love him.”

“Then I’m happy for you. Brendan, I don’t care if you’re sleeping with a dolphin, as long as you’re happy. You don’t need to keep things from me. I’m your mother.”

Marc snickered, then tried to muffled it with his fist.

Brendan grinned, shaking his head. “Mom. Please don’t compare homosexuality to sleeping with dolphins.”

She gave him a sour smirk. “You know what I meant.” She finished her coffee and stood. “I’ve got to get going, I’m meeting the girls downtown.” She picked up her coat.

Brendan rounded the table and helped his mother into her coat. “Well thanks for coming by. If you call next time, I’ll make sure there’s no vomit on the floor.”

She kissed his cheek. “Next time, you can come to
our
house.”

“What about Dad?”

“Your father loves you, Brendan. Stop acting like a spoiled brat and call him.”

She moved around the table. “It was nice to meet you, Marc.”

Marc stood. “Likewise. I hope we’ll see each other again.”

“Give me a hug,” she said.

Marc leaned in and hugged Brendan’s mother. He met Brendan’s eyes over her shoulder, raising his eyebrows. Stepping back, she gave Marc’s arm a squeeze, then patted his face. “You are
very
handsome.”

Marc smiled. “Thank you.”

“Take care of my son. But don’t let him push you around. He’s spoiled.”

Brendan rolled his eyes. “Bye, Mom.” He gave her a hug, then walked her to the door.

She turned back to him as she stepped out onto the porch. “Marc’s very nice,” she said.

Brendan nodded. “Yeah. He is.”

“Your father thought it was a one-time thing. He’s going to be very...surprised.”

Scowling, Brendan sighed. “He thought
what
was a one-time thing?”

She raised her eyebrows, then glanced toward the door. “You’ll swallow your pride and call your father soon. If you don’t, I’ll come to your apartment every Saturday morning until you do.”

Brendan crossed his arms in front of his chest, smirking. “And
I’m
spoiled?”