Desires' Guardian (23 page)

“Rhys!” she exclaimed, her accent enchanting him. He kind of wished Rhys carried a bit more of it in his speech. She hurried around the counter to wrap Rhys in a huge hug. The woman was so tiny in comparison to her eldest, it made Chase smile. She would be short even to him.

“Hey. Mom, I wanted you to meet someone very important to me.” He pulled away from her and wrapped his arm about Chase’s shoulders, pulling him closer. “This is Chase Manning.”

Chase pasted on his best Mom smile and held out the flowers, Rhys having taken the wine before they came inside. “Hi, Mrs. Sayer. Your home is lovely.”

“Oh, thank you, dear,” she said, taking the flowers. “They’re beautiful. Please, call me Elain, though. I mean, if you’re going to be part of the family, we should be on first-name basis, right?”

Family?
“Thank you, Elain.”

“Oh, Chase brought you this too,” Rhys added, holding out the merlot. “And I know you have a million questions, but I wanted to introduce Chase to Dad before Dal gets here and we sit down to eat.”

“Oh, okay, dear. He’s in his office,” she explained, and Chase noted a sour tone to her voice and her lips pursed slightly. He would have to ask Rhys what that was about later. “Lunch will be ready in about fifteen. I hope your brother gets here in time. I hate starting late.”

“I know, Mom. He’ll be here soon, and we will be right back.”

“Good.” She kissed him on the cheek when he bent down, then returned to her food preparations as they headed back into the main part of the house.

“She seems really nice, Rhys.”

“Yeah, but something’s bugging her, not that she’ll tell what it is until she’s good and ready. Come on.” Rhys led him down a hall and stopped at a plain door. He opened it and flipped on a light, revealing the room to be a largish half-bath.

“We are not making out in here,” Chase teased, knowing they were in there because of his injury, not Rhys’s insatiable passion—though he was rather insatiable most of the time.

R
HYS
SIGHED
at Chase’s attempt to lighten things. He was worried, and Chase making jokes wasn’t helping his mood. He closed the door, then turned to face his love. “Don’t make light of this, cariadon. Someone hurt you. I have every right to check the damage.”

Chase looked away, eyes down as he presented his arm. “I’m sorry, hun. I didn’t want to stress you, is all. Really, I’ll be fine.”

He took Chase’s arm, careful of his wrist, and again unbuttoned and moved the sleeve out of his way. There were clear lines of bruising he was certain matched Chase’s ex’s fingers. Rhys closed his eyes, fighting his desire to go kill the man who thought it okay to treat
his
Chase in such a manner.

When he opened his eyes again, he raised the wrist and gently brushed his lips across the skin. “I’m so sorry you were hurt. Did he injure you anywhere else?”

“I think in the end I probably did more damage to him than he to me. He’s probably icing his balls right now,” he explained, and snickered.

“Good, but I want you to report this.”

Even before he’d finished speaking, Chase was already shaking his head. “No. It’s done and over with. Jonathan won’t come after me. He was just upset because he’s that deeply in denial of who he is. My being there was a threat to his safe little house of cards.”

“I don’t care what his reason was. Hurting you is not acceptable.”

“I said no. It’s my call, and I won’t make it. Now, don’t you have a dad to speak to and a brother to find?”

Rhys ground his teeth, pissed Chase seemed to be blowing off such an attack. “Chase….”

“No, and that’s final. Let’s go see who we can find, huh?”

He counted to twenty in his head, slowly, before he spoke again, knowing nothing short of a miracle would get Chase to listen. “Fine, but we will discuss this more later.”

“I know, hun. I know.”

They made it as far as the foyer when he heard Dal pull up outside. He decided a detour was in order. He had spoken to his father before Chase arrived and wasn’t in any great hurry to rush back. His father was in a strange mood, one Rhys didn’t know how to interpret and felt uncomfortable around.

He opened the door as Dal pulled up the drive.

“What’re you grinning at?” he called once Dal had lined up his Ducati with their bikes and cut the engine.

“Chase,” he said, nodding to the bright metallic-blue Sabre beside Rhys’s Softail. Dal squinted as he stared at Chase.

“It’s not what it looks like,” Chase said defensively and turned away slightly before stepping around Rhys. He smiled at Dal, though Rhys noticed how shaky it seemed.

Dal stopped in front of Chase, frowning hard as he continued to look him over. Rhys knew what Dal would notice, how Chase’s eyes were puffy and bloodshot and how his skin seemed a little paler than normal. He was just thankful his mother had been polite enough not to comment, knowing it would embarrass Chase if she fawned over him.

“What happened?” Dal demanded.

“Cool it, Dal. I’m sorry for scaring you,” Chase said, not quite meeting his eyes. “It’s just been a difficult few weeks, and I just came from talking to Jonathan.”

“I don’t know—”

“High school boyfriend,” Chase snapped, cutting Dal off and spiking his worry again. “Seems he’s back to being a ‘good Christian boy,’” Chase explained, making air quotes. “He has a wife, coupla kids, and the whole white-picket-fence deal. He wasn’t happy to see me, to say the least.”

“Hey, his loss, right?” Dal murmured as he looked from Chase to Rhys and back.

“My good fortune,” Rhys added, wrapping his arm around Chase’s slender shoulders.

Chase smiled weakly as he looked up into Rhys’s face. “Thanks for saying so.”

“Hey, if he hadn’t been so stupid as to give you up, I might have never gotten my chance.”

“Pretending to be a battering ram was what got you your chance, not Jonathan’s betra—” Chase stopped talking and tugged on his leather wrist cuff.

Dal took the lead and went inside, turning toward their dad’s office, Chase behind him and Rhys following. Not that things were any more normal after that than before, though. Thanks to his lagging behind, Rhys came in partway through his father grousing about something or other.

“Now, where is your brother?” Bryn asked when they were still a step or two behind Dal.

“Right here, old man,” he said from behind Dal and took Chase’s hand in his.

“Don’t get fresh, son.” Bryn scowled. Chase shifted beside him, and while he loved his man being close, Rhys didn’t appreciate his father upsetting Chase.

“Sorry, Dad.”

Bryn nodded, his gaze zeroing in on Chase. “Seeing as both my sons seems to have lost their manners, hello. I’m Bryn Sayer.”

“Chase, Chase Manning, sir. Nice to meet you.”

A small smile flashed across Bryn’s face as he looked Chase over. “Thank you. So, you’re Rhys’s new boy?”

Chase scrunched up his nose, opening his mouth before he snapped it closed again. Dal chuckled, as did Rhys. Chase hated being referred to that way, but he also knew Chase would try not to insult his father.

“What?” Bryn asked, his tone higher than before.

Chase squared his shoulders. “If anyone is anyone’s
boy
, then it’s Rhys who’s
my
boy, not the other way around,” Chase said succinctly, arms folded.

Bryn choked on a startled chuckle, and Dal lost all control of himself, laughing so hard he leaned over to brace his hands on his knees.

“Lunch is ready, boys,” Elain said from the doorway.

“Yes, ma’am,” Rhys and Dal said in unison.

“We’ll be right there, cariadon,” Bryn replied.

By the time they all calmed and made it to the dining room, Elain had the food served and directed each man to his seat.

“Thank you, Mrs. Sayer. This looks wonderful,” Chase crooned over the meal.

She smiled brightly, sitting up a little straighter. “Eat, eat. You’re going to have to work hard to keep up with the others.”

As they ate, light conversation wafted about the table, no one discussing anything too heavy. At one point, Elain jumped into the conversation. “So, how long ago did you meet Chase, sweetie?”

Rhys looked up from his plate. “Almost a year ago, I think. It was right before Seth Burns hired me to protect his husband and daughter.”

“So, this is a long courtship, then?” she asked.

“I sorta put your son through the ringer to prove he was serious before I agreed to date him,” Chase said.

“As well you should, young man. Relationships are not something you should be frivolous about.”

Conversation continued until his father was most of the way through his meal—eating was a priority, even to serious talk.

“So, are you dating anyone?” Bryn asked suddenly, staring at Dal hard.

Dal swallowed the bite he’d just taken, coughing as it went down wrong. “Um….”

“I think it’s about time you settled down, Dal. Rhys seems to have done so. I hope.” It wasn’t a question or a statement. It was a demand.

“I have,” Rhys replied to the order. “Not about to let Chase get away.”

Chase shook his head, gripping Rhys’s hand on the table where they could all see.

“I’m only twenty-eight, Dad.”

“And your mom and I aren’t getting any younger. It is high time you found a nice girl and had a baby or two. Your mother would so love to be a grandmother while we are still young enough to enjoy our grandchildren.

“But Dal’s bi,” Chase grumbled loud enough for everyone to hear. “What if he wants a husband instead of a wife?”

“Rhys may have a husband. He is gay and therefore cannot be in a real relationship with a woman. But Dal can be.” Bryn paused and looked at Elain before continuing. “There is no reason Dal cannot have a normal relationship with a woman and uphold his family name and honor.”

R
HYS
PULLED
up outside the GLBT teen center he and Dal were acting as security for that night and looked around. He didn’t see Dal’s bike but knew he would be there soon. What he didn’t know was how Dal was doing, considering the insanity of their dad’s demand. Giving his report on the cute little thing Dal was dating wasn’t real high on his “want to do” list either, but he’d promised Dal a few days before that he would do a little digging and knew he couldn’t hold off on sharing what he knew now any longer.

Shrugging, he went inside, hoping the dance would be incident-free. He wasn’t even there for chaperoning, like most of the adults wandering around. No, he was there as a bouncer, to protect the kids attending the dance from any possible hate thrown their way.

After wandering around a little to scope out the best vantage points, he made his way over to the center’s co-head, Cynthia Jazz. “Hey, Ms. Jazz.”

“Oh, Rhys! How wonderful, so glad you could make it. Is that brother of yours here yet?” She smiled, showing off even, white teeth and distinguished laugh lines. She was older, but he hadn’t dared ask how old. She was still very beautiful, if you went for women.

“No, ma’am, not yet. I just wanted to let you know he would be and that I was. We won’t let anything happen that shouldn’t.”

“Such a good boy,” she replied and patted his cheek. He found her amusing. Six months ago, she hadn’t known who he was, yet now she treated him the same as some of his mom’s friends did.

“Thanks.” He flashed a smile but gazed around the room as she spoke. “I’ll check in later with you, but I want to do a few things before the dance officially starts.”

Ten minutes later, Dal approached. “Ready for tonight?”

Rhys looked up from his cell and grinned. “Always. You send a message to the club so someone tells Dad’s tramp you won’t be there?” He still couldn’t believe their father had not only demanded Dal marry and have kids, but had gone so far as to set Dal up on a blind date with the daughter of some friend.

“Yeah.” He sighed. “Sadly, I doubt this will deter him from trying again.” Dal looked past Rhys, scanning the milling people.

“Your cutie isn’t here yet, little brother.”

“Figures. I could really use seeing Alex right now.” Dal shrugged. “I’ll live.”

“You will. Oh, while we still have a few minutes, you want me to give you my report on your boy?”

“After Chase’s little temper about that word, you’re still gonna use it? And Alex isn’t my ‘boy.’”

Rhys shrugged, unrepentant.

Dal smirked but then sobered. “Now?”

Rhys nodded and pulled him back outside and around the edge of the building. “It’s not good. Well, Alex’s family is not good. He seems to be exactly what you said he is. He went to college, has a degree in culinary arts, and works for Dalton Harrison III as a personal chef. Alex is here every Saturday helping out. Rain, shine, it doesn’t matter. From what I can find, unless he is seriously ill, he works. The only person constant in his life is a friend, Kai Holmes, and his boss.”

“Okay, so Alex doesn’t have a big circle of friends. I knew that already. What about the scars?”

Rhys didn’t want to tell his little brother about the damn scars on his boyfriend’s neck. “That’s where the not good part comes in. In high school, Alex was a straight-A student, kind of a loner, but never in trouble of any kind. Then one day he turns up in Milwaukee, beat the hell up. I won’t give you the gory details, but he ended up actually living at a teen shelter for a while.”