Wicked Hearts (18 page)

Caribbean? Had they toasted their rekindled relationship with piña
coladas by the sea,

all thoughts of Jeff finally wiped out by his failure to act when Reese had reached out to

him?

His mistake, he now understood, was in negating the better part of Reese, the part

he"d seen and experienced firsthand. Reese had given the best of himself to Jeff. In the

face of pretty heavy odds, Reese had somehow found the moral strength to pull out

from under a lifetime of misbehavior and deceit. He was literally rebuilding himself to

be a man Jeff could love, but Jeff hadn"t been able to find it in his heart to forgive.

Brownies forgotten, Jeff hurried back to his desk and shut down his computer. He

wasn"t even going to pretend to try to focus on work. Reese was back! He had no idea if

he would welcome Jeff with open arms, or tell him it was too little, too late.

There was only one way to find out.

~*~

The doorbell rang.
Shit. That better not be Hank.
Reese really wasn"t in the mood. The

week in Mexico had been just what the doctor ordered. Reese had been lonely,

especially at first, but he had come to appreciate it was a good kind of solitude.

He"d found a cheap room to rent in town, taking the bus everyday to the beach,

where he swam for hours, until he was physically exhausted. Then he would sleep on

the sand, letting the sun warm and dry him. He kept to himself, avoiding the resorts

and bars in town that catered to tourists. For the first time in weeks he slept deeply and

well, waking with the sun each day. Though there was a lingering sadness, he also felt a

kind of optimism. He was going to be fine. Better than fine.

He missed Jeff, but then, he would probably always miss Jeff. That was the same no

matter where he was. He realized he wasn"t going to be able to continue to work at

Strata Systems, even though he really liked it there.

Jeff"s presence would be a constant reminder of how bad he"d fucked up. Even if

the love he felt faded over time, it would never erase what he"d done. Jeff"s very

existence would be a constant reproach—a reminder that Reese, like Hank, was

damaged goods.

He would come up with something to tell Bob. A sick relative in Boulder needed

him around for a while. A really good opportunity in New York had fallen into his lap,

something he just couldn"t pass up. It wasn"t like he was tethered to Denver. He could

go anywhere. He was a free man, with no ties in all the world.

He went to his door, ready to face Hank calmly, and remind him that there was

nothing left to say. Without even glancing through the peephole, he pulled open the

door.

Jeff stood there, a white bakery bag in his hand. “Jeff!” Reese"s heart constricted in a

painful way so that he actually gripped his chest before he realized what he was doing.

He dropped his hand, offering a small, uncertain smile.

“I heard you were back,” Jeff offered, his expression difficult to read.

Reese tried to quash the fluttering joy trying to surge through him. He needed to be

cool. He needed to wait and see just what Jeff was doing here. He might only have

come to say good-bye.

Reese stepped back, gesturing for Jeff to enter. “You, uh, would you like to come

in?”

Jeff stood where he was, clutching the bakery bag like a shield. Why had he come?

Reese waited, silent and stoic. The next move was Jeff"s.

Still making no move over the door sill, Jeff remarked, “You got really tan. Where"d

you go?”

Reese looked down at his arms, which were a dark golden-brown, the hairs

bleached nearly white. Did Jeff really come by to talk about his fucking tan? Still, he

answered the question, keeping his voice as neutral as Jeff"s. “I spent a week being a

beach bum down in Cabo. You"d love it down there. If you avoid the fancy resorts and

don"t mind taking the bus, you can stay for really cheap.”

I’d love to take you,
he ached to say.

“Well, I just thought I"d come by and, um, you know, say hi.” Jeff suddenly thrust

the bag forward. “I got cupcakes.”

In spite of the tension and Reese"s aching confusion, he couldn"t help but grin. He

took the bag, forgetting his promise to himself to be stoic. “I missed you,” he said,

aware of the longing spilling into his words but unable to control it. “I"ve missed you so

much.”

Jeff said nothing and Reese felt the heat rise in his cheeks. Fuck. He"d moved too

fast. Jeff would pull away again. He needed to be cool, damn it. But he couldn"t let Jeff

go—not like this.

“Please,” he said, hoping his voice was steady, “come in, Jeff. Please.”

“Yeah, okay,” Jeff agreed. “We should talk, I guess. I"ve had time to think while you

were gone. About everything. About us. About you.” For the first time he looked

directly into Reese"s eyes, and Reese"s heart caught again. How he ached to pull Jeff into

his arms, to beg his forgiveness, to plead for another chance.

Jeff stepped into the room, pushing his hands deep into his pants pockets. He was

wearing those old holey jeans Reese used to make fun of in his head, but now found

endearing. They were so—Jeff.

They stood facing one another. Jesus, this was hard. He had told himself he was

over Jeff and at a place of peace, but seeing him now, so close he could take him in his

arms, he knew he"d been lying. He"d never get over Jeff. Never.

To distract himself from these raw emotions, he opened the bag and peered in. Two

huge cupcakes, both chocolate, sat side by side. Despite his turmoil, he smiled. “I could

put on some coffee,” he offered.

“Yeah. That sounds good.”

Jeff followed Reese into his kitchen. He sat at the table, fiddling with the salt and

pepper shakers while Reese made coffee. Reese filled two mugs and set them on the

table. He grabbed the cream from the fridge and set it down by the sugar bowl.

Neither of them reached for their mugs. The cupcakes sat untouched in the bag.

Reese longed to speak, to say something, anything, to break the tension, but his mouth

refused to comply. Finally Jeff opened the paper bag and took out the cupcakes,

pushing one across the table toward Reese.

Reese reached for it. For something to do, he bit into it, enjoying the rich icing and

moist cake despite himself. Jeff added sugar to his coffee and lifted the mug, sipping it

while he watched Reese eat. Feeling self-conscious, Reese set down his half-eaten

cupcake and added cream to his coffee, stirring and then sipping in the thundering

silence.

The sound of the front door being unlocked and pushed open made them both look

toward the living room. “What the…?” Reese rose, a sick feeling rising in his gut.

“Lucy, I"m home,” Hank called out in a singsong voice.
Damn, damn, damn!
Reese

had completely forgotten Hank"s illicitly obtained key. The bastard couldn"t have

planned his entrance better, or rather, worse, if he"d tried.

Reese glanced helplessly at Jeff. “I"m sorry. Just let me deal with this.”

Jeff shrugged, his expression guarded. Reese felt a fault line crack along his heart

but he didn"t dare dwell on the pain. He had to get Hank out of there, pronto.

He hurried into the living room, Hank stood just inside the door, an elegant silk

jacket slung over his shoulder, his face a study in casual insolence.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Reese demanded through clenched teeth.

“You"ve been back from your solo vacation for a whole day. I kept waiting for you

to call
me
, but you obviously couldn"t be bothered. Then when I heard Hartman was

heading over here—”

“What? You"re admitting you had both our places watched! Jesus, Hank. You"ve

gone too far, even for you. I can"t fucking believe you"d stoop so low.”

For a second the insolent mask slipped and Reese saw the vulnerable pain behind it.

“I want you back,” Hank said in a low voice. “I"ll do whatever"s necessary to make that

happen.”

Reese shook his head. “It"s not going to happen, Hank. Too much damage has been

done. I need to move on. I"m sorry, but you"re going to have to get that through your

head.”

Hank narrowed his eyes. “You think so, huh? You really think your little love

interest is going to want to have anything to do with you once he knows the real you?

I"ve got something here that says he won"t.” Hank patted his jacket.

“This isn"t about Jeff. I"m not the same person I was before.”

“Sure you are. Nobody really changes. Don"t run me that shit. I
know
you, don"t

forget.” Hank looked toward the direction of Reese"s bedroom. “Where is he, anyway?

Waiting in your bedroom with his pants around his knees?”

“That"s enough.” Reese felt his blood pressure rising. He refused to give Hank the

satisfaction of seeing how upset he was. Jeff had returned, possibly to reconcile, and

Hank"s showing up was going to ruin everything. Trying to keep the desperation out of

his voice, Reese said firmly, “You need to go, Hank.”

Ignoring Reese, Hank turned his face toward the kitchen and his eyebrows lifted, a

mean smile pulling at his lips. “Ah, there he is. Jeff, isn"t it? Did you drop by to stutter

all over Reese"s cock?”

Reese swiveled toward the kitchen door, where Jeff slouched against the doorframe,

his hands in his pockets, his expression impossible to read. Reese implored, “Jeff, I"m

really sorry. Just ignore him. He"ll be gone in a second.”

Hank offered a hollow laugh. “I warned you, Hartman. Don"t tell me you actually

believe him. Not after all the lies.” He advanced toward Jeff but Reese stopped him,

blocking his way. Unperturbed, Hank continued to address Jeff. “
I
have my own key to

Reese"s house. Do you? Reese and I have been fucking since you were in junior high

school. Reese owes me everything he"s got, and then some. Do you really think he"s

going to pick you over me?”

“Shut up!” Reese roared, the barely controlled rage now spilling out, spreading like

a red film over his eyes and heating his blood. He started toward Hank, ready to

physically propel him out the door if necessary.

Hank dodged quickly around him, laughing softly. “
I
don"t write checks I can"t

cash,” he said, pulling something from the inner pocket of his jacket. “Watch and learn

how the big boys play.”

Before Reese realized what he was doing, Hank pushed the button on the DVD

player and slipped a disc into the slot. The TV turned on and after a moment, the

images lit up the screen.

It was Reese, naked in a video taken several years before with a man who, like Jeff,

hadn"t known he was being videotaped. Tears of shame and fury filled Reese"s eyes.

“You fucking bastard.” Helpless anger robbed him of judgment and he shoved Hank so

hard Hank sprawled to the ground, landing with a thud.

With a shaking hand, Reese pushed the power button off, wondering how much

Jeff had seen. All the petty lies, all the cavalier sexual games Reese had played over the

years, weighed on him now like a stone. He felt himself sinking beneath the weight of

his shame.

“Please,” he begged, his voice ragged with pain. “I"m not that man. Not anymore.”

Hank got slowly to his feet, the snide expression of a moment before replaced with

something darker and more menacing. “You
are
that man, Reese Armstrong. You"ll

always be that man. Look at him, Jeff. This is the real Reese. Piss him off and he"ll push

you around. He"s a rage-aholic, out of control.” Turning to Reese, he demanded, “You

probably want to kill me now, don"t you, Reese? Just like the last time you killed

someone, huh? Did you bother to share
that
little detail about your life with your new

lover? Huh? Did you?”

It was as if Reese were thrust back in time, back to that horrible day when, as now,

rage had blinded him. Hank was right. He did want to kill him. Not just punch him or

make him leave, but smash his face in. He wanted to slam Hank"s head down against

the floor until it split like a melon and silenced forever the corrosive, damning voice of

the man who was trying to ruin the first and only good thing ever to happen to him.

Fury propelled him forward, his hands curling into fists as he advanced on Hank,

who held his ground, his expression defiant. “You wouldn"t dare hit me, you pathetic

little shit. Don"t forget who you"re dealing with. I had Daddy clean it up the first time.

This time I"ll be the one pressing the charges, and you can bet I"ll make them stick.”

Reese barely heard him. Just beneath the blinding anger, his heart breaking with

sorrow, certain now by Jeff"s silence that he"d lost whatever slim chance they"d had of a

reconciliation.

“You fucking bastard,” he cried. If nothing else, he"d have the pleasure of wiping

that smug, superior expression off Hank"s face. He brought his arm back, fully prepared