war broke out while we were in Turkey of all places, and Mom and Dad came home.”
Ellie and he had woken up to the sound of gunfire and screaming. He knew children all over the world lived with that horror every day, but he would never forget how terrified they both were. And how relieved to get home safely.
In a month his parents had gotten wanderlust again, but by that time Ellie and he had settled in school and had a group of friends. “We spent the next five years spending half the time with Mom and Dad wherever they were living and the rest here. The older we got, the more complicated school got, and in the end we both stayed here until we graduated and went to college.”
Or that was the simple version. But Dash didn’t need to know about all the nights both of them had lain awake terrified of where they were going to be dragged next, and the bitter fight when Ellie had been allowed to stay last time but they’d made Jensen go with them.
“They’re in Canada at the moment, but they’ll be home to visit at the end of January.” And Jensen would have to spend two weeks running interference with them for Ellie, who had never forgiven them for terrorizing her baby brother. Dash looked fascinated, and Jensen hoped he would share some of his story, but he put the spoon down next to his empty bowl. He’d only eaten half the sandwich.
“Would you like some more soup?”
Dash looked up. “No, thank you,” he said, “but it was really good.”
“It wasn’t bad for store-bought,” Jensen allowed, “but when I order some groceries, I’ll make sure I have the things in to make it myself.”
Dash clasped the dish and plate and went to stand. Jensen got up quickly. “Not tonight, Dash. I don’t want you to do anything else except relax.”
Worry crept over his face. “But you are—I mean—well.” He seemed to be tying himself up in knots again.
“We will take turns when I’m sure you are recovered.” Jensen picked the plate up and put it on the counter next to the dishwasher to deal with when he came back. “Would you like to see your room?”
Dash nodded shyly, and he picked the bear up. “I was trying to say thank you before, but making a bad job of it. I didn’t think—” He stopped and slowly went crimson.
He didn’t think Jensen was interested, when nothing could be further from the truth.
Jensen just picked up both bags and walked to the opposite door that led into the hallway and the stairs. Dash hurried after him. “Let me.”
Jensen didn’t know how to tell him he enjoyed it, and not in a subservient way, in a “that’s too heavy for you to carry” way. He’d seen that dynamic with Ellie and Abigail. It had confused the shit out of him at first until he’d seen what Ellie followed up her orders with, the caring and the attentiveness. It was—maybe—a need to dominate, but more a driving need to make sure Abigail was safe and well, and most of all happy, and trusted Ellie to make that happen. Trust that Abigail could let go, and trust that Ellie would step up. They both needed it and thrived on it.
It certainly gave him some thought.
Three
Dash wasn’t sure his brain was keeping up with what had happened today, even if his legs were obeying as he followed Jensen upstairs. Was this man for real? He knew in his heart of hearts he couldn’t be. No gorgeous men were this…philanthropic? That was a word, right? It meant doing the right thing and supporting charity cases.
And he was a pathetic charity case all right. He’d managed to get back to Gran, and they’d had a year and a half. Less than two years when he’d wanted a lifetime.
It isn’t fair.
And it wasn’t. Seventy-one was no age. An awful debilitating thought made him reel back. He barely felt Jensen’s arm around his waist. What if it had been him? What if his problems had caused her heart to give out. Steven had always told him he was more trouble than he was worth.
Idiot.
Pathetic.
Weak.
And those hadn’t been the worse ones. Not a man was a favorite. And how much he was ashamed.
And he’d tried. So hard and for so long. It had taken so much courage to eventually run, and when Steven had found out, Gran had nearly called the police, but