have been blissful. Instead, their words haunted him—back then and still, after all these years.
He tightened his grip on the steering wheel as he made the last turn into the parking garage. No. He shook his head to himself as he parked the SUV. No. Gabriel wasn’t like the others. He would never do that. Every instinct in Ben’s mind and soul yelled in protest. Gabriel would stand guard and even sacrifice himself before letting any harm come to him.
But memories were a bitch and had a way of sneaking in and taking over.
And they had pitched a tent in his mind, determined to take him down.
= ♥ =
Bull swiped his finger along his bicep, picking up some of the lingering chocolate syrup. Chocolate, caramel, and strawberries had been the dessert toppings on the menu. He just hadn’t expected to be the dessert getting topped.
He sucked the chocolate off his fingertip as he stared at Ben, remembering how every inch of his skin had been licked, and how relentless Ben had been with him bent over the kitchen counter. Bull loved it when Ben didn’t shy away from his feelings. Confident-Ben was captivating, sexy as hell, and strikingly beautiful.
But confidence hadn’t been driving Ben’s thrusts.
“We made a mess,” Bull signed, keeping his eyes trained on Ben, hoping for something to reveal what was spinning in his mind.
“You did say the perk of living in a hotel was the housekeeping,” Ben signed with a shrug.
“They’ll know we were messing around in here. We’ll be at the top of the list of hotel gossip.”
Ben worried his lip. “I can clean it up. I’ll—”
The hair at the back of Bull’s neck prickled when everything shifted in a split second—Ben’s body language, his expression, and the sudden pallor of his skin. He cupped Ben’s face, drawing his attention. “What did I say wrong?”
Ben shook his head and rubbed his arms as if fighting a sudden chill. “I can clean this up,” he quickly signed. “No one needs to know.”
Bull snaked his arm around Ben’s waist, not giving him a chance to escape. “Wait a minute,” he said once Ben’s gaze was fixed on his lips. He refused to release his grip to sign and risk Ben escaping this conversation. He searched Ben’s features, hoping for some tell. “C’mon. It’s just us here.”
“I know,” Ben signed, his shoulders slumping.
Maybe he was reading too much into Ben’s body language. But it wasn’t just the words he signed. It was in the pained expression in his eyes before he looked away.
Bull’s mind raced, recalling every word that had been signed. “They’ll know we were messing around…”
Bull grabbed Ben’s chin and forced him to look at his face as he spoke. “Do you think I’m ashamed of you? Of us?”
Ben shrugged.
“Did you forget how I introduced you to everyone we ran into when you first moved in?”
Another shrug.
“Do you want me to wear a shirt that reads ‘I’m HIS’ when we go out? Because you know I would.”
“I know you would. And you’d smile the whole time.” Ben dropped his hands and lowered his head.
Bull tucked his finger under Ben’s chin and pulled up his face. “Where’s this coming from?”
Ben heaved a sigh as he signed. “Father’s Day is coming up.”
“Did you want to make a drive up to the cemetery next weekend?” He knew Ben preferred to remember the good times with his parents rather than feel the sinking sorrow of a graveside visit, but the desperation to decipher what was churning in Ben’s heart had him reaching for just about anything to gauge his reaction.
Ben shook his head. “I don’t like going there. It’s too sad.”
He released Ben from the embrace and cupped his face. He searched for the tiniest hint in his expression, some tell as he stroked his cheek. “You’re killing me here. Just tell me what’s going on.”
“Natalie is making a Father’s Day dinner for your dad.”
He scowled, hoping this wasn’t headed in the direction he feared.
Ben stared at him, waiting for some sort of response, but he refused to say a single word until he knew Nat’s endgame. He loved his sister, but she had a blind spot where their father was concerned. His mother had kept the peace and had been the glue that held their family together. But after she passed away, things had fallen apart. And Nat was determined to glue the pieces back together with tape, spit, and whatever else she could gather.