Whatever the Cost (37 page)

Jacen’s smirk widens, at both the lightness of Liam’s mood and the endearment. “Isn’t it funny? We used to say that as a joke, but now....”

Liam rolls the wine around on his tongue, drawing out the flavor, his eyes closing over with satisfaction. Puckering around the rich taste, he swallows and glances up at Jacen. There’s so much there in his expression, Jacen is almost stunned. So many of Liam’s defenses are down, down and gone, that truth shines out golden and miraculous from the depths. Liam used to be defined by his defenses. Every retort, every word or gesture was laden with some persona or another. Jacen had to seek out the actuality of him, digging down deep before he even scratched the surface. Now it’s all laid bare, and Jacen feels blessed.

“It wasn’t a joke to me,” Liam says, unsmiling. “It was the only way I knew to feel close to you.”

And there, right there, as Liam locks eyes with him, Jacen sees that Liam heard. He had heard everything that he did in the shower. More than that, he’s letting Jacen know that he heard, that he wanted to hear, that he understands the heat he stirs even now in Jacen. Liam digests the knowledge of what he does to Jacen, drinking it down like nectar or the wine currently slipping over his lower lip as he lifts his glass once more. It warms Liam from the inside out, giving him back some of the power he’s lost. His ability to seduce Jacen with such little effort on his own part, merely by revealing a side of himself that he has been leery of showing thus far, a few beguiling words, an interest in Jacen’s life apart from Liam; Liam holds on to it, gripping the understanding like a precious jewel.

With a slight tilt of his head and a raise of his eyebrow, Liam indicates that Jacen never answered his initial question and that he’s waiting for a response.

Jacen licks his lips and takes a deep drink of his wine. “Tough. It was tough. Always is. They have really high standards, so all I can do is bust my ass to do things the right way the first time and wait for the thumbs up or down. Standing by the ovens all day, working frantically and just constantly, turning out dish after dish, filling the orders as quickly as I can so that the customers get fed in a timely manner. I love it, don’t get me wrong. It makes me feel really alive, and happy. Wanting to please them, to get even the smallest praise from Joe, it’s kind of what it’s all about for me.”

“It suits you, the hard work. Plus, it’s kind of hot.”

Bowing his head at the compliment, Jacen looks up again and lifts his glass a few inches in a small toast. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

“How about you?” Jacen debates asking and then says, “Are you lonely yet?”

Liam breathes out a small laugh. “I do miss all of the constant attention sometimes. Keeps the ego inflated, you know? But mostly I’m good. Maybe I’m just finally growing up. It’s been great to meet the tenants and I’m gonna dive into fixing up the empty apartment tomorrow. Valery might even come up later in the day to help me paint.”

“Well, if you ever want some more attention,” Jacen offers, his voice sounding rough in a way that holds Liam’s attention, his gaze sliding down Jacen’s body. “I’m kind of your biggest fan.”

Smiling despite himself, just for a moment, Liam basks in the heat of Jacen’s stare before pulling away again, erecting a sort of invisible barrier to keep him at bay. Jacen feels it there between them, and aches. Sadness paints over Liam’s face, and Jacen wants to scream, to rage at the depression that’s taken hold of his lover, like that could banish it.

“I mean it, Lee. Are you happy? Can you be happy here?”

It’s urgent, and plain. The straightforwardness of the question hurts because it serves to remind Liam of all of the times he tried to make Timothy see things that should have been apparent, like the dangers of prostitution and, later, why turning tricks had become a necessary evil in order to pay the medical bills. When he was Avery, Liam would speak plainly too. But rational thinking never did anything for him then and, ever since, he has learned not to scrutinize his circumstances and decisions too closely. He has adopted Timothy’s compulsive nature, and some of the cynicism which came in force once his health deteriorated. It feels like Jacen is asking Liam to reclaim some of Avery’s long-lost naivete and positive outlook. The last thing Liam wants is to do that and open himself up to the sort of torment that came with Timothy’s slow, torturous death. If he lets himself be happy and carefree with Jacen, it could all happen again—especially with The Company breathing down their necks. He could lose Jacen like he lost Timothy.

It makes Liam angry, that Jacen is trying to take him back to such a dangerous emotional place. And, at the same time, Liam resents the fact that he can’t simply be happy with Jacen. Nothing is simple anymore.

“Good wine, good company, no sleazy strangers to fuck or suck? What’s not to like?” Liam indicates his empty glass, standing with it. “You want some more, too?”

Jacen just stares at him, doing everything he can not to erupt with the sheer, maddening frustration of it all. His strain and hurt meets only a wall of non-expression from Liam. After a moment, Liam stops waiting for a reply and goes to get the wine bottle. When he returns with it, and his own refilled glass, Jacen is still waiting, strangling on all of the things he wants to shout at Liam but doesn’t dare.

With a bitter semblance of a grin, Liam tries to push Jacen away like Timothy used to push Avery away; Avery, who only wanted to love and be loved. Opening his arms wide, Liam says, “This is what you signed up for. What did you expect when you married a broken old whore? Sunshine and rainbows?”

The words cut deep. Wanting to throw the wine glass that Liam had bought and so carefully washed by hand, his fist tightening on it so much than he waits to feel the crystal splinter and shatter inside his grip, Jacen instead sets it down on a side table and gets to his feet. He turns like he’s going to go, but then stops, his face working with the battle within him, poorly concealed. It feels like he’s bleeding, like Liam has somehow reached inside Jacen and ripped out something vital. He shoots a look full of accusation and injury at his husband.

But Jacen knows what this is, it’s Liam building up that wall, moving back rather than forward, and Jacen won’t stand for it, no matter what kind of pain Liam is in. He closes the gap between them, a matter of two or three feet. Jacen grabs the wine glass and the bottle from Liam, setting them carefully down too, beside his own glass. Then he faces Liam, fuming, determined.

“What are you so goddamned afraid of? Huh? Is it me? Are you afraid of me, Lee? Or is it you that you’re afraid of? I’m in this for the long haul, no matter what, because I love you. I love
you
. And I’ll be here, waiting for you to be comfortable enough to be
you
, and not all of the people you feel like you should be instead. You want to pretend to be an asshole? You want to pretend to be a victim of your own decisions? Well you can go right ahead, but I know that’s not you. It’s a fucking act and when you figure out what I already know about you, then we’ll talk, okay? In the meantime, you need to find a way to respect the fact that I will always care about you, no matter what shit you want to throw at me on the way.”

The rise and fall of Liam’s chest, increasing at the same rate as the color in his cheeks, is what Jacen fixates on. He examines every facet of Liam’s reaction, the wicked gleam in his narrowed eyes only growing as he sees him taken aback, shocked silent. Jacen holds his ground, bearing down on Liam emotionally and physically, towering over him, stronger in every sense of the word.

Something breaks. The wall forms a crack, letting vulnerability spill out, gushing faster and faster. A tremble works its way through Liam’s form and he sets his jaw with stubbornness.
How dare you
, his beautiful eyes blaze.

“God, I hate you sometimes,” Liam growls even as he moves, surging in and Jacen swoops and claims his prey. He grabs hold of Liam in two places—the base of his skull and his waist, fingers clawing, letting some of that bottled-up hunger rush out of his every pore. Liam kisses him but Jacen forces his mouth open wider, makes him bend and submit to it. It’s furious and passionate.

Liam moans thickly as Jacen’s tongue enters and takes him. Liam feels it all the way to his toes and he lets Jacen wrap him up, enveloping him completely, their bodies flush from thigh to chest. Jacen’s interest swells but Liam’s is almost painful in its intensity. Fighting not to rut and fuck himself against Jacen’s hot, hard body, Liam shudders and swallows, tasting wine, tasting Jacen.

For a heady second, Jacen pulls back, biting at Liam’s lip as he does, tugging at the plump flesh and tilting his head to the other side only to claim Liam’s mouth once more. It’s so good, Liam gets dizzy. No one has ever wanted Liam with such purity and intensity. No one. And Liam has never wanted to give himself over as completely as he does with Jacen, to drop all his defenses, to open up more utterly than he ever has and be the void that Jacen fills, with his lust and love. Liam’s body throbs with that want. He moans again, more desperately, as Jacen scratches and bites at him, trying to consume him, using Liam’s mouth with the talented muscle of his twisting, darting tongue until Liam’s jaw aches and his pulse thrums just under the skin, every inch of him tingling and on edge.

With a snarl and a flash of darkly animalistic, feline eyes, Jacen abruptly ends the kiss, taking a backward step to put distance between them as Liam almost follows after him, chasing after more contact, more of the kiss.

“You’re not ready,” Jacen rasps. Closing his eyes against the strong tide of his want, Jacen forces it down, drawing up some control over himself, somehow. “I don’t want to do this if I can’t have you, and I refuse to hurt you any more. When you’re ready, let me know.”

He walks away quickly, around the chair, grabbing the wine bottle and upending it, taking a long couple of swigs, then breathing out sharply and putting the vessel on a kitchen counter. “I’m gonna cool off and go to bed. It’s been a long day.”

Helpless, wanting,
needing
, Liam exhales a shaky breath and wills the world to stop its spinning. He falls down to the couch, collapsing back into it with a groan of, “Jesus....”

A quiet moment finds Jacen as he stands in the kitchen of the bistro. Meat is in the broiler and soup is on the stove, simmering lightly. For a few minutes, there is nothing more to be done. Standing there, with one hand braced on the countertop, he stares at his fingers. It used to be very important to him to maintain nicely manicured fingernails, to be spotless and free of mark or visible injury. Now his hand is riddled with small, insignificant cuts. His nails are broken in places, the edges uneven. The skin is slightly raw from scrubbing it clean over and over again. The contrast between then and now is right in front of his face, concrete. He loves the way his hands are hard-worked and bear the proof of his labors.

Joe and Lily walk into the kitchen and at first Jacen doesn’t realize he has company. Misreading the reason why he’s looking so intently at his hand, Joe says to Jacen, “Why don’t you ever talk about her? I don’t mean to pry. It’s your business, after all.”

“Hmm?” Jacen turns, snapping out of his daydream.

“Your wife. You said you were married, but there’s never a peep about her. We don’t even know her name.”

Lily smiles mischievously at Jacen from behind her father. Jacen sighs and squints at her in playful accusation, knowing this was probably her idea. Her curiosity has prompted many leading queries over the month and a half he has been employed at Barbara’s, but so far Jacen had managed to keep his private business private. Jacen could imagine her talking with Joe in idle conversation, putting the idea intentionally in Joe’s head, knowing he’d be more likely than her to get an answer out of Jacen.

He hasn’t been keeping his marriage a secret out of embarrassment or shame. It’s mainly been an effort to keep a low profile, and to mask Liam’s identity for as long as possible, for the safety of both of them.

Jacen takes a deep breath and looks down at his silver wedding band, turning it around his finger. His sullen air prompts further comment from Joe, “Hey, if it’s a sore subject, forget I asked. I know how that goes too.”

“I don’t have a wife,” Jacen says with clear resignation.

Their expressions change abruptly. Lily’s eyes go wide and Joe seems to immediately regret he brought it up.

“I always thought I would, you know, someday. But I wasn’t really good at committing to the women I, um, dated. That all changed when I met Liam. He’s my best friend. I didn’t plan on falling in love with him, and I didn’t even know that I had for a while. Then it just hit me. I was in love with him. We’ve only been married for a couple of months. Newlyweds, I guess.”

Jacen sees Lily positively melt. He’s actually surprised he doesn’t get a full-out “aww” from her.

“Yer gay?” Joe blinks, his face screwing up a little around his confusion.

“No,” Jacen scoffs.

“You’re married to another man.”

“Yeah,” Jacen allows. “I’m just not a big fan of labels.”

Joe rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “You kids give me a damn headache with your P.C. bullcrap. So when do we get to meet Liam?”

“What?” Jacen blurts.

“Your old man,” Joe clarifies helpfully.

Jacen smiles at that, his dimples popping as he chuckles. “I don’t know. Hadn’t thought about it. I guess I could have him come in.”