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After that, his mom made her way to the kitchen and Braden and Evan went to the living room, where his dad, two sisters, their husbands, Evan’s wife, and six nieces and nephews ran around. Football blasted through the TV because his dad’s hearing was going a little, even though he’d never admit it.

“Uncle Braden! Uncle Braden!” A whole herd of kids from age eleven down came at him.

“Did you bring me a fireman sticker?” his nephew Tommy asked, and Braden pulled a few out of his pocket and handed them to him.

He went down the line, talking to and hugging all of them, before he walked over to his sister, Yvonne, to say hello. Her belly looked like someone stuffed a basketball into it, another new baby planning to make an appearance soon.

“Good to see you, baby brother.” His other sister Lizzy grinned at him. They all spoke for a few minutes before he went over and sat next to his father to shoot the shit with him for a few minutes, too. Man, it felt good to be home.

“Hey, old man.” Braden put a hand down on his dad’s shoulder. Where Evan and his mom had a similar personality, Braden and his dad did, too. Though he guessed in a way he shared a lot of traits with his mom as well, but he and his dad had the same hair and eyes. The same strong build, and they both liked to laugh.

“Do I have to kick your ass to show you I still got it? Wouldn’t want to embarrass you in front of the family.”

“What if you break a hip?”

“What? Break a hip? You better take that back.” He stood up to pretend to go after Braden, but in the end just squeezed Braden’s shoulder the way Braden had just done with him. “Come on. I got something to show you.”

Braden followed his dad outside and to the workshop he, his dad and Evan built when Braden was twelve. When they made their way inside, his eyes landed on an old Harley. He could have came right there. “Holy fuck. She’s beautiful. Does Mom know?”

His dad laughed. “Of course she knows. I’m not stupid enough to lie to her about it. She likes to pretend it doesn’t exist, though, so she’s made me promise not to even talk to her about it. It needs a little work, which gives me something to do. Who would have thought retirement would be so damn boring? I’m going crazy.”

Yeah, Braden could imagine he’d be the same way. “Damn.” He ran his hand over the chrome handlebars. “I wish she was ready right now. I’d love to ride her.”

“You get four days off in a row every week. Come down and spend a few of them with me and we’ll work on her.” His father walked to the fridge he kept in the shop and pulled out a beer for each of them, handing Braden one.

He twisted the lid and took a drink. “Maybe I can figure something out. I’m helping a friend of mine out, though. He just got custody of his niece and I watch her for him sometimes.”

“How’d he get custody?” Dad asked.

Braden picked at his beer. “Lost his sister to cancer. It’s been tough on him.”

“That’s hard.”

Yeah, yeah it was. “They’ll be okay, though. Wes has his shit together.”

Over the bottle, his dad’s eyebrows rose. “Is this just a
friend
or a
special friend
?”

Braden almost snorted Coors Light. His family all knew he was bi, and it shouldn’t shock him that his dad would come out and say something like that. “Christ, Dad, please don’t ever say ‘special friend’ to me again. He’s just a buddy who has had some hard times, and I like helping him out. He’s a good guy. You’d like him. And Jessie is cool as hell. She’d have a blast with the army they’re building in the house.”

His father’s brows drew together and Braden found himself adding, “He’s a friend.”

Again his dad put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “Just don’t look your mother in the eyes if you say that to her, okay? She’s already stressing about when her youngest is finally going to settle down, and something tells me she wouldn’t believe what you’re saying to me.”

What could he say to that? That he’d fucked Wes before? That he wouldn’t mind doing it again? Besides friendship, that’s all they had between them and as close as he was with his family, he didn’t talk to them about his sex life.

He and his dad screwed around with the motorcycle a little before Braden went inside to help his mom cook. By the time they all sat around the table, his gut hurt from how much he’d laughed today. But not enough to slow him down on the food. They talked and he fielded questions about his love life and teased his siblings about all the damn kids.

“Are you going to stay here tonight?” his mom asked as the whole family helped clear the table. Yvonne and her family would be, but Evan and Lizzy both lived within a mile or so. “We can make a big breakfast in the morning.”

“Stay, Uncle Braden!” one of his nieces shouted.

He shrugged. “Yeah, I probably will.” He’d missed being around his whole family and wasn’t ready to go yet. Still, watching them all, he couldn’t help but wonder about Wes and Jessie, hoping their day was as good as his.

***

W
es’s gut ached as he watched Jessie push her food around on her plate. She hadn’t been herself all day. Little periods of the smiling, happy girl showed, but the clouds always lingered nearby.

He hadn’t been sure how the holidays would go. He’d been worried, but there was also that hope that her age would help. That her still being so young would make things easier on her. But he’d seen the sadness in her eyes all day. She missed her mom. She knew today was a special day, and though she didn’t totally grasp what it was, she knew they were spending the day with people they loved and her mother wasn’t here.

His phone buzzed against his leg. Wes almost ignored it but then pulled the phone from his pocket to see a text from Braden.

How’s it going over there?

Could be better.

Shit, man. I’m sorry.

Yeah, he was, too.

Not your fault.

Wes set his phone in his lap. “What’s your favorite part of Thanksgiving dinner, Jess? Mine is the potatoes. I think I could live off mashed potatoes.”

“Pie,” she answered, giving him a brief smile.

“Hey. That’s cheating. I didn’t know dessert counted.” He hoped his voice sounded lighter than the heaviness weighing him down.

“I miss Mommy.” Jessie let her spoon fall to her plate and crossed her arms. Wes looked at Lydia, her husband, hoping one of them had the answer for him, then decided to do the best he could on his own.

“Come here, kiddo.” He shoved his cell into his pocket as he walked over to her. Jessie wrapped her arms around his neck as he carried her out of Lydia’s dining room. He rubbed the back of her head as she buried her face in his neck and cried.

“I know. I miss her, too.” He took her to the room she slept in when she spent the night, and sat with her on the twin bed. “It’s okay to miss her. You know she never wanted to leave you. You were her favorite person in the world. If she could be with you, she would be.”

The whole time he spoke, the same sentences played in his head: Please let me be saying the right thing. Please let me do right by her.

“When will she come back?”

His heart broke, pain splintering him apart. “She won’t come back, kiddo. Remember we talked about this.”

“Why can’t she come back?” Jessie cried harder.

I don’t know.
Sometimes he felt that the more people loved someone, the more guarantee they had of losing them. “Because she can’t.” How the hell did he explain this to her? How did he make her understand? “Remember how we talked about this? That when people die, it’s almost like they’re asleep and can’t wake up?”

Jessie nodded.

“She loved you so much. And we need to remember her all the time. It’s good to think about her and talk about her. Remember how you said you like pie the best? Your mommy did, too.”

Jessie giggled.

“When I was a little boy, she hid a fake spider in my pie once and I cried.”

She laughed even more at that. “You were a little boy?”

“What?” Wes ruffled her hair. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.”

He held her for a few more minutes, and when she calmed down, they went back to finish dinner with the family. Jessie talked more, but he could still tell she was sad, confused.

After dinner they played Go Fish and Uno, him and Jessie on the same team. When the kids were tired, they decided to watch TV. “I’m going to clean up some of the mess in the kitchen, Lyd.”

She shushed him. “You don’t need to do that.”

Yes I do.
She must have seen it in his eyes because she didn’t say anything else as Wes disappeared into the kitchen, needing to be alone. It didn’t take much time for him to load the dishwasher, but the antsy, heavy feeling taking him over hadn’t subsided at all. He shook his hands out, leaned on the counter with his head in his hands, and took a few deep breaths.

You’d think after all this time he would be used to losing people.

And then he did the strangest thing. It was as if his hand acted on its own, with no command from his brain. He pulled out his cell and texted Braden.

She asked me why her mom can’t come back. How the fuck do I make her understand when I’m so pissed off about it myself?

The second he hit send, he typed out another reply.

Don’t call.

It was a whole hell of a lot easier to type than talk.

I would have called.

I know

It made his stomach uneasy that he knew that.

Death is hard for any of us to understand. All you can do is love her.

It didn’t feel like enough.

Sorry. I’m sure you’re busy with your family.

What the fuck was wrong with him? Why did he text Braden to ruin his Thanksgiving, too?

Don’t be sorry.

Wes didn’t reply, and then another text came from Braden.

I have a black eye.

Wes flipped the phone around in his hand a few times, almost going back into the living room, but he had to ask.

How the hell did you do that?

Got beat up by a two year old ;)

Wes chuckled. The man was fucking crazy.

I put up a good fight
,
though
.

Not good enough, obviously.

For a few more minutes they texted back and forth. Wes wasn’t stupid. He knew Braden just wanted to distract him, and damn it, he wanted that, too. Deciding he’d hid in the kitchen enough, Wes told Braden he had to go. Braden replied to have a good night and that he was staying out with his parents that night.

Happy Thanksgiving,
Wes told him, before putting his phone away.

Three hours later he sat on the front porch of his house, looking out at the night, when his cell buzzed again. Without looking, he knew it was Braden. Sure enough, the message on the screen said,

How you doing?

Lonely. Scared. Angry. Okay. Jess stayed at Lydia’s tonight. Thought it would be good for her to be around the kids.

What are you doing?

Sitting on the porch

It was about five minutes before Braden replied.

Watch the headlights of the next vehicle that passes and try to guess where they’re going.

Wes looked out to the street, saw the two white globes slow down in front of his house, and he knew. He fucking knew it was Braden.

He didn’t let himself think about the why of him being here, or that he’d gladly let him in. Wes just replied,

Here.

And then waited for Braden to turn down his driveway.

––––––––

B
raden opened the screen door on Wes’s porch. Once they’d started texting, he couldn’t get the man out of his mind. He’d taken a shower to try and relax, and the second he got out, he knew he’d come—because he wanted Wes, wanted to help him forget like he had the night Wes had gone with him from the bar. He had this need to do something important for Wes. Not that he was selfless or anything, because just as much as those other things, he just plain wanted Wes.

There was more to it even than that, though. He didn’t want Wes to be alone. The man would never ask for help, wouldn’t ask for someone to be there, but Braden wanted to make sure Wes knew he would be. He hated to think about anyone feeling completely alone in the world, but...
fuck
, it gutted him to think of Wes feeling that way.

They faced off, nothing but hard stares, cold air and tension between them.

“Why are you here?” There was a roughness to Wes’s voice, tiredness wrapped around confusion. He held the same look in his eyes, but that wasn’t the only thing there. Desired flared in his almond-shaped eyes that Braden had no doubt Wes saw reflected in his own.

Still he said, “I’m here for whatever you need.” Because that was true, too. Even if he knew there wouldn’t ever be a chance to fuck Wes again, he’d be here.

As always, words seemed out of Wes’s reach. Instead of trying to find them, he grabbed Braden by the collar of his jacket and pulled, the same way Braden had done with his tie. Finally he muttered, “I want to fuck you. I want to forget about everything else in my life and just focus on what I can control. Getting you hard.” He cupped Braden’s already hardening cock through his jeans. “Driving you wild... Tasting you everywhere.”

His hand slid around behind Braden to palm his ass. “You said you love sucking dick but this is what I want right here. I want to lose myself in nothing but pleasure because right now I really fucking need something that just feels
good.
”

Braden’s breath pushed out in a rush, like it participated in a race. Need, want and lust combusted together to light the deadliest of fires, and he wanted nothing more than to let it burn him alive.

“What’s taking you so long? Show me what you can do.”

The night they’d been together had been rushed and sloppy, but this...tonight he knew would be different, and he couldn’t fucking wait.

Like that night months ago, Wes’s mouth came down on Braden’s first. It was just as rushed as their kiss on their first night, but not nearly as sloppy. Wes’s tongue stroked his. He pulled back, his teeth digging slightly into Braden’s bottom lip and giving it a pull.