Saving Grapes - Madeline Kirby Page 0,18

shirt hanging over the porch rail he hadn’t known what to think. He’d gone a little nuts, imagining Ben running around looking like sex on legs while in the company of Ross, of all people.

The truck stopped, the engine was cut, and the cab light came on. Ben and Ross were talking, smiles on their faces. Ross reached his left hand over, ran it along Ben’s jaw and drew him forward. Thom ground his teeth, watching them kiss and wondering if it was their first one. Or had they been kissing all evening? Or doing something else, something more than kissing? He was driving himself crazy thinking about it, but couldn’t look away.

Ben drew back, smiling. He laughed at something Ross said, and got out of the truck. Ross started the engine, turning the truck and driving off as Ben walked toward the house.

“Don’t see him again.” It came out sounding harsher than Thom intended and Ben stopped, startled, one foot on the bottom step.

“I can see anyone I want. You’ve made it clear it has nothing to do with you.” Ben climbed the steps and headed for the front door. Thom jumped up, intercepting him and grabbing his wrist as he reached for the door.

“Not him.”

“Why? Why not him? He’s a fun guy, and he wants to see me. He doesn’t have any hang-ups about who I’m related to or how old I am. I told you how I felt, and you were pretty clear that I was wasting my time. So why shouldn’t I move on? Should I just live like a monk? Not even go on a date? Shrivel up and die alone? Is that what you want? Is it? You don’t want me, but neither should anyone else?” Ben was getting increasingly agitated and was almost shouting by the time he paused and took a deep breath, trying to calm himself.

“No. But he’s… he’ll…” Thom stopped, rubbing his hands up and down over his face, trying to find the words. “He doesn’t date. He’s rough and selfish.”

“What am I, a fairy tale princess? Maybe I just need someone who’ll make a decision. Someone who’ll want me and do something about it.”

“That’s not what I mean. I mean, you deserve better. Someone who cares about you, not someone who’s just after their own pleasure. Ross is… he’s just wrong for you.” Thom caught Ben’s eyes, trying to make the younger man see his concern while trying to hide his own jealousy. It didn’t work.

Ben’s demeanor underwent a sudden transformation. He took a deep breath and leaned forward into Thom, backing the shorter man against the door frame and smiling. “Do you care about me, Thom?” he asked, his voice a husky whisper.

Thom gulped, trying to find his voice, “Of course I do. You know that. But I’m responsible for you. I made a promise to your uncle and I can’t betray his trust.” Oh God, Ben was just too close and he smelled so good.

“So, you’re responsible for me? You can’t let anything bad happen to me, right? You need to protect me from big bad wolves like Ross? Hmm?” He whispered the last in Thom’s ear, his breath hot and moist against Thom’s skin. He leaned in another inch, his chest pressing against Thom’s and his left hip moving forward to put a slight pressure against Thom’s groin.

Thom could feel his resistance crumbling. He’d been wanting Ben too long and he’d been alone too long. Why was he holding back, anyway? They were both adults, and if Ben was going to keep goading him, why shouldn’t he go for it? He shouldn’t, he knew he shouldn’t, but…

“You can’t let anything bad happen to me. You’re responsible for me, you said so.” Ben’s tongue traced the outer rim of Thom’s ear. “So take responsibility, Thom.”

“Shit,” Thom groaned just before Ben’s lips covered his and his self-control went out the window. “Inside,” he growled as he grabbed a fistful of Ben’s hair and pulled his head back. “Upstairs. Now.”

Ben didn’t say a word, didn’t pause, didn’t hesitate. He just yanked open the door and took the stairs two at a time. Thom locked the front door and followed him up the stairs at a more normal pace, trying to control his breathing and hoping he didn’t embarrass himself. He found Ben in the master bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling off his boots and socks. The bedside lamps had already been turned on and