

The Family We're Born With

(Finding Family - Book 1)

Kaje Harper

Copyright© 2013 Kaje Harper

Cover typography by Enny Kraft

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

Thank you for downloading this free ebook. Although this is a free book, it remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be reproduced, copied or distributed for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy at Smashwords.com, where they can also discover other works by this author. Thank you for your support.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Content warning: contains sweet love, strong language and explicit sexual situations between two men

~The Family We're Born With~

Chapter 1

Jesse stared at his mother. "You want what?"

"I'm sorry." She reached for him, cutting her gesture short with a flutter of her fingers. "You know I love Devin. I think he's great for you, really."

"But you don't want him to be here when Sam arrives."

"Just not right at first," Mom said. "I want us to start off right. Sam's looking for his roots, his birth mother, and I want it to be good. He was raised in Texas, you know. He's a Marine. His adoptive parents have lots of money. I don't want us to seem too..."

"Too what? Too weird? Too liberal? Too gay?"

"Jesse."

"Don't Jesse me, Mom." He wanted to pace, to shout, maybe hit something. He cracked his knuckles, not trying to annoy her but all the same, today he didn't stop when she winced. "I am gay. If he's going to hang around with us, he'll have to live with that."

"I know, and he will. I promise. I'm not asking you to hide it. Just don't push it in his face the first day."

Jesse frowned at his mother, wondering where the hell this was coming from. She hadn't been thrilled when he told her he was gay, four years ago, but she'd never asked him to hide it or suggested there was something wrong with him. This was coming out of left field and it hurt, even at twenty-five with a job and a boyfriend and all. "I could just stay away myself tomorrow, leave you to bond him to the normal part of the family."

"Oh, dear." His mother pleated her sweater into folds between her fingers. "I don't want you to go away. I just want us to all have a lovely holiday with no fighting."

"What makes you think that can't happen if Devin celebrates it with us, as usual?" For the last three years, his boyfriend had been part of their family Christmas. Devin's own mom was long dead, and his father was in a nursing home. They were all the family Devin really had. How many times had Mom said she thought of Devin as one of her kids? Apparently that stopped when one of the real kids came home, even if it was a kid she hadn't seen since the day he was born.

"Sam was in the military for years," she said. "I really don't want to push my luck."

The tremble in her voice made Jesse stop and take a calming breath himself. He hated it when Mom cried. "What do I tell Devin? That we just found out my long-lost adopted illegitimate half-brother is going to come see us on Christmas Eve, so Devin should just go hide in the hotel while we kill the fatted calf?"

"He could come on Christmas day, maybe. Once Sam's been here a bit."

"Look, Devin and I can just play it cool at first. Until we sound Sam out and see if he really is homophobic. We won't kiss, or even stand too close together. Okay?"

"That won't work." Mom touched his arm. "Can't you tell Devin it's a compliment, really? That he loves you so much, it shows when you're together."

"Some compliment." Jesse shook her hand off and turned for the door. "I'll be at the hotel."

The whole drive there, he turned her words over in his mind. Objectively, maybe he could understand why she... no, on second thought, he couldn't. This was his mother, who put spiders outside rather than kill them, and gave money to every panhandler she passed. Who claimed kindness was important, and now suddenly was willing to make Devin feel like shit.

By the time he got to the door of their room, he'd worked up a good head of steam.

"She said what?" Devin pulled him inside and closed the door. "Slow down, you're not making sense."

"She doesn't want to offend that damned Sam with our gayness."

"So you can't wear make-up to dinner?" Devin teased. "No kissing under the mistletoe?"

"No you."

"What?"

"She said to ask you not to come over with me on Christmas Eve."

"Oh." Devin's smile faded. "Not at all?"

"She said maybe, just maybe, we can be gay on Christmas Day. If Sam turns out to be more liberal than she thinks. Otherwise not."

"Boy, she's in a mess about his visit, isn't she?" Devin sighed. "Come have some coffee."

"That's all you're going to say? Have some coffee?"

"Well, it's her house. And I can understand it, in a way. This is the baby she gave away when she was sixteen. That's huge. She wants things to go well, now that he made the effort to find her."

"That doesn't give her the right to spit on who we are, to make her bastard comfortable!"

Devin said, "C'mere," and held out his arms. Jesse tried to hold onto his anger a bit longer, because it felt strong and easy. But when he moved in to put his head on Devin's shoulder, and let Devin's arms close around him, he had to admit that what he was most, was hurt.

"It was so hard to come out to her the first time," he whispered.

"I remember."

Devin probably did. It was finding Devin, a man worth being out and proud for, that made Jesse finally tell his family the truth.

"She handled it okay back then though, Jess. Not perfectly, but not too bad."

"I guess maybe she was lying. Maybe she wasn't really okay with me, and who I am. Maybe she's been playing the good mother all along, and it took this to show me the truth."

"Come on, Jesse." Devin loosened his hug and gave Jesse a little shake. "You know that's not true. She's warmed up to me over the years. She phones me herself, sometimes, not just you; she sends me stuff. That's not all play-acting."

"Maybe not. But still, there's no way I'm going to cater to this. We could fly back home. Or just stay here in the hotel for Christmas Eve, and fuck all night. Then if she's willing to let us contaminate her house with the gay, we can both go over on Christmas Day."

Devin slid his warm mouth across Jesse's jaw and kissed his neck. "I don't hate that idea, but let's give it till tomorrow, all right? We're already here in town, and she's probably still in shock from finding out Sam's actually going to show up on her doorstep."

"Regardless, you don't deserve to be treated like some outsider. You're a better person than any of us." And you deserve a real family. He'd thought he was giving Devin that, and hated to realize it wasn't quite true.

Devin shrugged and nuzzled against his hair.

Jesse put a hand behind Devin's head to guide him down into a kiss. Devin moved easily at his touch, with none of the stiff tension Jesse felt strumming through himself. When they separated, Jesse said, "Why aren't you more pissed about this?"

Devin looked down at him with a sad smile. "Maybe because I love that you're mad on my behalf. Maybe because I didn't have it as good as you did, as a kid, so I'm not surprised when a parent has feet of clay."

"Telling us about Sam thirty-one years after the fact? That was feet of clay. This is moving on to ankles and knees, maybe thighs of clay."

Devin kissed him, deeper and with more purpose. "I love you. I want to take you to bed and show you exactly how much. Any objections?"

Jesse pulled free far enough to glance over at the clock on the TV. Two hours until their photographer appointment. Plenty of time. "I have absolutely no objections to that."

He let Devin tug him over to the big king-sized bed and push him onto it. He kept his hold on Devin's arms though, tugging him down too, to get his weight on top. There were times he really liked to be pinned to the bed by Devin's size, and just overwhelmed. Judging by the eager way Devin was already fumbling between them for zippers, he wasn't going to have to ask. He kissed the curve of Devin's neck, brushed his lips over stubble, and filled his senses with taste and smell and pressure and heat. It was very easy not to give a moment's further thought to his mother.

***

Devin slid his arm further around Jesse and squeezed his shoulders. Jesse moved closer, but didn't smile the way he usually would. The photographer said, "Come on, guys. You had me set aside this slot for the perfect portrait of you two. Can you at least pretend to be enjoying it?"

Jesse sighed. "Sorry, Grant. I appreciate you taking the time, so close to the holidays and all."

"Well, I know you wanted it for a present for your mom. And she was so great to me when we were growing up, I just had to fit you in."

"Thanks."

Devin could hear the undercurrent of sadness in Jesse's voice. There was the problem. Jesse's mom had been pretty much perfect—the cookies-in-the-oven, all-your-friends-are-welcome kind of perfect—when he was a kid. But she was also a bit conservative, and he'd stayed in the closet all the way through college to keep that Brady Bunch family thing going. Then when he did come out, there had been a strained year, but she'd been better than they'd feared. She'd seemed to accept Devin too, if not warmly. These last few hours had no doubt knocked her off the mom-pedestal in a big way.

He tilted his head closer to Jesse's ear. "Do I have to whisper my plans for tonight, to get you to perk up?"

"Plans?"

"Yep. I hear the hotel will deliver champagne, strawberries and a big bowl of whipped cream and not ask how you're going to use them."

That earned him a chuckle. "What is it with you and playing with food in hotels? I swear, something about a hotel room makes you kinky."

"It's the maid service. Sheets that I don't have to wash."

"Oh God, I just got a flash of the maid and the morning-after sheets."

"Are you blushing?" Devin kissed his temple. "Seriously?"

Grant said, "That's better. Just don't start making out on camera, okay? Your mom probably doesn't want the full Monty on her Christmas present."

Devin cursed under his breath as he felt the tension come back into Jesse's body.

They posed a bit longer, sitting, standing, Jesse sitting with Devin kneeling behind him. Finally Grant said, "Okay, want to see the proofs?"

"Sure." Devin kept his arm around Jesse as they went over to the computer monitor.

"I just need to upload. It'll be a couple of minutes." Grant fiddled with the computer, then turned to them. "So guys, any plans for the holidays beyond your mom's great cooking?"

"I don't know," Jesse said. "We might want to do something different Christmas Eve. Any suggestions?"

Grant shook his head. "Most stuff closes down. I mean, Gran's Country Buffet is open, for folks who don't want to cook, but you're going to get dry turkey and lumpy gravy there. Churches are open of course, but I'm guessing..." He looked back and forth between them.

"Not big churchgoers," Devin agreed.

"Most people will be home. We always go to my dad's for Christmas Eve, and then Anya's folks the next morning."

"Well, we might just spend the evening at home too. Or at hotel, anyway." Jesse leered at Devin suggestively.

Grant said, "TMI, Jesse. Really. Here, the shots are loaded. Take a look, see what you want."

Devin looked at them over Jesse's shoulder. Grant was clearly pretty damned good, for a small town photographer. There were half a dozen that he liked. They arranged to get a DVD with the best shots, for a more than fair price.

"You said you wanted me to do a good print of one, in an eight by ten. Which one?"

Devin could feel Jesse getting ready to tell him to forget it, so he said quickly, "That one, where our eyes match." Grant had managed a shot of them with Jesse tucked in against him, and the same shade of blue in both their eyes. Jesse looked wistful, a little vulnerable. He probably hated that picture, but it was the one Devin wanted Jesse's mother to have, and since he was paying for this he figured it was his choice.

"God, no. I look like a wimp. That one." Jesse pointed to a thumbnail of them exchanging a look with just a touch of heat in it. And yeah, Devin could see where he might want to tweak his mom's reactions with that, but Devin still wanted this to be a gift, not a cheap shot.

"That first one. This is my present. In fact, I want two copies, if you can do that?" He'd put one on his desk at work.

Grant raised an eyebrow at Jesse, who nodded.

"Okay. I'll have those and the DVD done tomorrow. Pick them up before two, because I'm closing early for the holiday."

"Got it." Devin reached his coat off the hook on the wall, and passed Jesse's to him. "Come on. Shopping waits for no man."

"You guys are still doing your Christmas shopping? Man, the stores are going to be a zoo."

"Bringing stuff along on the plane is even worse," Devin pointed out.

"I guess. Well, good luck. Stay away from the hug-me-Elmo aisle."

The air outside was crisp, but not frigid. Jesse turned up his collar anyway, and plunged off down the street at a very fast clip. Devin followed, a bit bemused. Luckily his legs were enough longer he didn't have to scurry to catch up. At the door of the home improvement store, he caught Jesse's sleeve. "What's the rush?"

"Shopping, right?" Jesse pushed through the doors, fast enough that they were only half open and Devin banged his elbow on one. "We need Christmas presents to put under that tree that you aren't invited to see."

"Dammit, Jesse." He steered Jesse into a nook between the snow blowers and the fluorescent lighting, where they were less likely to get trampled. "If you're that mad, don't shop. Or buy a bag of charcoal to pass out and call it done. Anyway, we're here for something for your dad, and as far as we know he hasn't disowned me, has he?"

"I don't know. I left. But you know he'll never go against Mom's wishes when she's made up her mind. Especially now. This Sam thing has him acting really strange."

"No doubt." How would it feel to have your lover of twenty-seven years suddenly present you with her grown-up child? Jesse's dad was a pretty mellow guy, but that had to be tough. "All the more reason to get him something nice, right?"

"I guess." Jesse scuffed the floor with his boot. "I'm really not in the mood, but there's no time left."

Devin wanted to hug him, but not in the snow-blower aisle of a Home Build-Rite. "Come on, let's look at power tools. You'll feel better."

Jesse heaved a sigh just this side of theatrical. "All right."

As they wove down the aisles, around people trying to find the right gift for the handy-folk on their list, Jesse said, "You don't think I should get a present for Sam, do you?"

"I don't know." Devin gave it a moment's thought. "He's your half-brother, right? And it's not his fault he's basically a stranger. Maybe you should. Do you know anything about him?"

"Not much." Jesse paused by the display of masonry drill bits. "He's thirty-one, and just out of the Marines. And he's a Texan. What more do I need to know?"

"There are gay Marines. And gay Texans."

Jesse laughed sourly. "Wouldn't that just frost Mom's cake, if he turned out gay too? But I think she said he has a girlfriend who's still overseas."

"You could get him a gift card to this place."

"That's like giving him money. No."

"Well, what about your dad? You have something in mind?"

"Yeah. He made a list."

Devin followed Jesse through the tool aisles, thinking about family. Even though he'd grown up with just his dad in an all-male household, he couldn't put a screw in straight. Jesse was the handyman in their house. It was kind of fun to watch Jesse sort through saw blades, muttering about thin kerfs and gullets as he picked out two. Jesse could flame with the best of them when he chose to, but in here he was just a guy in love with the power-tools.

After choosing the blades, Jesse moved to some gift displays, looking randomly through screwdriver sets, tape measures and bubble levels. "You know, this is dumb," he said after a few minutes. "I know nothing about this guy. For all I know he has a complete workshop back in Texas and builds fancy furniture out of whole redwood trees or something."

"I don't think they have redwoods in Texas."

"You know what I mean. Food. Every guy likes food, right? And doubling up on something to eat doesn't matter."

"Sure."

Jesse grabbed a giant tin of caramel popcorn from the stand by the register. "There. Done. I'll be the thoughtful brother."

"Can't hurt."

"God, that feels strange," Jesse said, as they checked out. "Saying brother like that. I mean, I have Emily, so I've been a brother. But I've never had a brother."

"What time does he get in tomorrow?"

"We're not sure. He's driving. Afternoon sometime." They stepped outside. The sun was setting and that crisp air was making a serious attempt at frigid. Devin shivered.

"So after we brave the mall for your sister, are we going to your folks' for dinner or boycotting?"

Jesse opened the rental car and swung into the driver's seat. "I don't know. Damn. What do you want to do?"

Devin had to give that some thought. There was appeal to just calling to say they were going out to eat, and avoiding hurt feelings over tomorrow. But they'd flown all this way to Minnesota to let Jesse be with his family for Christmas. Since Devin's own dad would have no clue what day it was, or even who Devin was, this was his only shot at a family holiday too. And despite everything, he couldn't help thinking Jesse must have misunderstood Gayle somehow. She'd become pretty friendly to him over the last three years, since she'd accepted that Jesse really had been gay long before he ever met him. Surely she hadn't meant he wasn't welcome, just... something else.

"Let's go to dinner. Give your mom a chance to explain. See what your dad says."

"Okay. But if mom doesn't take it back, we're walking out and she can tell Sam whatever the hell she wants all by herself."

They walked into the house a few minutes late. Devin felt like a battle-weary knight after the mall, although in this case slaying the dragon had involved finding the last purse with some weird name like juicy in a particular shade of blue. Or maybe purple. Anyway, Jesse had known what Emily wanted, and Devin had muscled some big guy out of the way to grab it first, so they were victorious and hopefully she would be pleased.

The family was at the table, but Gayle was still putting serving dishes out. Emily and Lloyd, Jesse's father, greeted Devin cheerfully, but Gayle gave him a sickly smile and darted back into the kitchen for something. So much for it being all in Jesse's imagination.

Still, Devin took his usual seat beside Jesse, and asked Lloyd about his day. Gayle set the food out, and sat without looking Devin's way. She immediately engaged Emily in a rapid discussion of her classes for next semester. Devin kept up his conversation with Lloyd. Jesse sat in between and ate mechanically and silently.

When Emily got up to start clearing plates, Jesse hung onto his. "Sit down. I want to get something straight."

"Now, Jesse," his mother said, "This isn't really the time."

"Sure it is." Jesse turned to his father. "Did you know Mom asked Devin not to come over on Christmas Eve, so Sam would be more comfortable?"

Devin eyed Lloyd, because he kind of wanted to know the answer to that too.

Lloyd said slowly, "No. But I guess I can see where it might make sense."

"It what? Dad, you don't mean that!"

"Now listen," Lloyd told Jesse. "This is a new thing, a hard thing for all of us. We just want the boy's visit to go well."

"He's not a fucking boy! He's thirty-one years old and I think he can handle seeing me with Devin."

"Language!" Lloyd snapped.

"Fuck language!"

Devin put his hand on Jesse's thigh under the table.

Gayle said, "See? That's what I mean." She pointed at where Devin's hand was hidden. "You're going to do something like that. And then Sam will get upset, and he'll be uncomfortable, and it will all go downhill."

"He'll be uncomfortable?" Jesse's muscles went rigid. Devin thought about moving his hand, but gripped Jesse's leg harder instead.

Gayle shoved her chair back and stood. "This one time it's not about you, Jesse Morgan Calhoun! This is about Sam, coming to meet a mom he never knew and a whole unfamiliar family. I want him to feel comfortable with us, to make it go as well as possible."

"By lying to him and insulting Devin?"

"It's not a lie. You don't have to tell him you're straight. Just don't ask, don't tell."

"He's the dogface grunt. I'm a department manager. I won't ask, but I always tell."

"Jesse." The rumble in Lloyd's voice was warning, as Gayle wrung her hands.

"Please, Jesse." Her voice trembled. "Please, please don't spoil this for me. You have no idea, just no idea, how long, how many years I woke at night wondering where your brother was. If he was okay. What kind of man he was becoming. Now he's here, visiting, out of the blue. This is really important to me. All I'm asking is for you to help me out. One day." She turned wet eyes toward Devin. "Devin understands. Don't you? It's not that big a deal, just one day."

Devin hesitated, caught between automatically agreeing with her, and the little kid in him that wanted to say, "It's Christmas Eve. I don't want to be alone."

Jesse jumped right in over the top. "It is a big deal, Mom. How can you not see that? You're making me choose between my new brother and my lover."

"One damned day, Jesse!" Gayle's voice rose to a shout. "Just this once, think about someone other than yourself? Can you do that?" She heaved a sob, whirled around and ran out. Her running steps pounded up the stairs, and the door of the master bedroom slammed.

For a moment they all sat in stunned silence. Devin didn't think he'd ever seen Gayle lose it like that. Lloyd frowned heavily.

Jesse turned to him. "Dad, you see my side, don't you?"

"I do," Emily piped up. "It's totally not fair."

Lloyd said, "It may not be fair, but I see your mother's side too. She's been cleaning every inch of this house for the last two days. Ever since she heard from that boy she's been in a state, cooking and fixing and pacing and not sleeping. It means a hell of a lot to her, that he gets a good impression. And if she thinks having Devin here will be a problem, than I'm going to let her make that call."

"Then I'm not going to be here either." Jesse shoved back his chair. But his father reached out quickly to grab his wrist.

"Listen. I don't lay down the law very often, do I?"

Jesse was silent, his jaw jutting out mulishly.

"So when I do, I expect you to listen. This is really important to your mother. She's done a lot for you that she didn't want to, or didn't think was a good idea, because you needed it."

"Like pretending to accept the fact that I'm gay?"

"No. Like letting you go tour Europe when you were just seventeen, because the rest of the seniors in the club were going. Like getting up early every Saturday morning for six years to take you to hockey. Like helping you get off the hook for that summer job, when you just couldn't handle it. She's compromised for you, a time or two. Now it's your turn to compromise for her."

Devin could see Lloyd working up to making that an order, and Jesse working up to throwing it in his face. He didn't want that. The last thing he ever wanted was to see the Calhouns' happy family split apart at Christmas for his sake. He said, "I get it. I don't think it's right, but if Gayle needs this, to be comfortable and get through her first day with Sam, then I'm okay with it. Really." He turned to Jesse. "It is just one day, Jess. We'll live."

Jesse's eyes said he was about to explain how it was a whole lot more than that. Devin clamped his fingers hard on Jesse's knee with a warning squeeze.

Lloyd smiled gratefully at Devin. "Thank you. You know, this is no reflection on you, right? If Jesse has to have a man, then I can't imagine anyone better for him than you."

Devin took the backhanded compliment with a nod.

"And we still want you to come over Christmas Day. There are presents under that tree for you. Sam has a gay half-brother, and he's going to have to get used to that fact, but maybe we just don't have to rub his nose in it right off the bat. Let him get used to the rest of our quirks first, eh?"

Jesse jerked his leg out of Devin's grip and stood abruptly. "Okay, that does it. I'm out of here." He strode out of the room.

Lloyd gazed worriedly after him, then turned back to Devin. "Will you talk to him? Get him to come here tomorrow and be nice to Sam? It means the world to his mother."

Devin said roughly, "I'll try."

"Thanks, son. I appreciate your level head keeping my boy from going off track."

The "son" was obviously meant, and yet stung like hell at that moment. Devin stood, said, "Bye, Emily," and headed out after his lover.

He found Jesse pacing outside the rental car.

"You have the keys. You drive. I'm too mad." Jesse kicked at the tire, not looking at him.

Devin got in and started the car. Jesse fumed in the passenger seat as they headed back to the hotel.

"He doesn't even see it. That's the hardest part. He talks about 'quirks' and 'rub his nose in it.' What am I? Some kind of gay turd the puppy pooped on the rug?"

Devin couldn't help laughing. Jesse smacked him on the chest. "It's not funny."

"No, but gay puppy poop is." He sobered. "You're right. They're still not okay with the gay, and they don't even hear it. But they're trying. Your dad called me 'son' back there."

"The son who isn't welcome at the table tomorrow."

Devin sighed. "Let's give it a rest. We'll get back to the hotel, and make good use of the bed, and the soundproofing. Leave tomorrow's decisions till tomorrow."

Jesse was silent most of the drive, but as they pulled into the hotel parking lot he said quietly, "But you think I should go there without you, don't you?"

"I don't know. But I do know this. For my part, I'm willing to do a lot more than miss one holiday meal to have a warm, intact, happy family that we can be a part of. Even if it's not perfect and even if they're still struggling with my place in it, I love your family. I don't want to mess it up for a principle, even one that matters a lot to us."

Jesse sat there, blue eyes on his. Those gorgeous eyes were bright, sheened with tears, though of what emotion, Devin couldn't tell. Slowly, Jesse leaned toward him. He whispered, "I love you so damned much," against his mouth, and then kissed him.

Chapter 2

Sam Albright sat behind the wheel of his truck, and stared up the drive at the two-story white house, nestled between two big pine trees. He checked the street address one more time. This was the place.

Come on, you coward. You can face incoming missiles, but not one middle-aged woman?

He got out of his truck, reached absently for the hat he wasn't wearing, then tugged his jacket straight. He'd dressed for cold weather, but the bite in the Minnesota air cut through his jeans, and trickled down the neck of his fleece jacket. It was good incentive to walk briskly up to the door. That and the fact that he'd caught a movement of the curtain in the front window, and knew someone was watching him.

The door opened almost before he could knock, and there she was. His birth mother. He looked at her, all the polite greetings he'd practiced gone from his head. She was tall and blond, like he was, and her eyes were the same blue. But she was slim where he was broad-shouldered and big-boned. She had a pointed chin to his square one, higher cheekbones than his. She'd clearly been lovely when she was young, and looked damned good for the forty-seven he knew she had to be. And she was clearly related to him. Closely. No doubts. How strange.

She said, "You must be Sam." He heard a tremble in her voice.

"Yes, ma'am." He held out his hand. "And you're,"—he couldn't say, 'my mother'—"Gayle. I'm pleased to meet you."

She shook hands, very briefly. Her palm was damp. "Come on in. It's a bit cool today."

"Yes, ma'am, it surely is." God, I sound like an idiot. He stepped past her into the house and she closed the door. He almost wished he'd worn a hat, just to have something to do with his hands.

"Here, hang your jacket in the closet there, and come on in and meet the rest of the family. If you want to, that is. It's okay if you don't."

Sam realized she was as nervous as he was, which helped. "That's fine. I mean, I'd like to." He hung his jacket in the closet. "Would you like me to take off my boots?"

"Oh, no, that's all right." She laughed lightly. "There's no snow yet."

He glanced down, and noticed her feet were bare. "Well, maybe I should anyway. They're not that clean." He kicked them off and set them neatly, side by side in the tray. He'd worn new socks, with no holes, just for this. "Lead on."

He followed her down a hallway and into what appeared to be a family room. Three people sat there, pretending to read while clearly waiting for him. Gayle said, "These are my husband, Lloyd. And your brother Jesse, and sister Emily."

Sam nodded, "Sir. Jesse. Emily."

Emily smiled at him. She had blond hair a shade darker than her mother's. Their mother's. But her eyes were brown and she was short and a little plump, like Lloyd was. She said, "We're glad you could come. Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas to you."

Jesse said, "Was it a long drive?" The words were polite, but for some reason his look and tone were challenging. Sam almost welcomed that. A challenge from a young pup like Jesse was something he knew he could handle.

"It's seventeen hours, so yeah, you could say it was a ways to go."

"Seventeen hours!" Gayle waved him toward the couch. "You sit there. I'll put the kettle on for coffee. It's still a couple of hours until dinner, but I could fix you a snack."

"Thank you, ma'am, but I stopped to eat often enough." It was a good way to stay alert when the white lines started to blur.

"All right. And you don't have to call me ma'am. Gayle is fine. Or... whatever."

"Sure, Gayle." It sounded wrong in his mouth, but he kept the smile plastered on. He could do this. Really. "Coffee will be great."

Emily said, "Do your parents really have a ranch?"

"Not a real ranch. More of a hobby place, with a couple of guys to do the real work. Some horses, chickens, a few goats, fifty head of cattle."

"Fifty cows sounds pretty real to me."

"Aw, that's nothing. Just playing, compared to the spreads around us. Dad was a banker, and then he had a little problem with his health and had to retire. So he bought the home place. But it's not really for making money. More for keeping him busy and out of Mom's hair."

"I hope your father's health is better," Gayle said.

"Yes, ma'am. Gayle. He's doing pretty well now." So Dad doesn't have that excuse for being a bastard. His chest still hurt, remembering their last conversation.

Jesse demanded, "Why aren't you spending Christmas back home then?"

Are you asking because you wouldn't have to put up with me that way? Although maybe he was being paranoid, to read challenge into Jesse's words. He said, as evenly as he could, "Things changed, and we couldn't all get together. So I thought, since I'd just found Gayle, it would be a chance to meet you all together, while you're all home for the holidays."

Jesse frowned dubiously, but didn't demand details. Just as well, because Sam was prepared to tell him it was none of his business.

Gayle said, "I'll just go make that coffee." She went out of the room. Sam was left with the rest of this family of strangers.

Well, his mom had trained him well in social small talk. He turned to Lloyd. "Tell me about your work, sir. Gayle said you're a city engineer?"

"Yes. It's mostly paperwork these days, issuing permits, overseeing maintenance plans, roadwork. It's not that interesting."

"But useful work. I drove through a few towns on the way here that clearly could use someone good to get on top of their problems."

"I suppose it is, yes." Lloyd's expression warmed a bit. "So I hear you're a Marine."

"Yes, sir. Although I left the Corps a month ago. I figured I'd take the holiday season to get my feet under me as a civilian." And to find Clint. Neither task was progressing according to plan, especially since he'd added a visit with his birth-mother to the mix.

"That sounds reasonable. What kind of job will you look for?"

"I did heavy machinery maintenance for the Marines. I doubt there's a civilian company that wants me to keep their tanks running, but I'm sure someone needs those skills."

"I bet you'll do fine."

Gayle, coming back in with an honest-to-goodness silver tray of coffee mugs and cream and sugar, paused before setting it down. "Didn't you go to college, Sam?"

"I went straight into the Marines out of high school."

"Oh. I thought..." She set the tray on the coffee table and began handing mugs around.

"Thought what?"

"Well, I wanted my baby to go to college. I wanted you to have every opportunity. That was part of why..."

"Why you gave me up? Oh, don't get the wrong idea. Mom and Dad would've sent me, if I'd wanted to. But I was eager to sign up and it was a family tradition. My dad, both my uncles, um, his brothers, they all served. And I was restless. I've always liked working with my hands. I don't know if I could have sat through another four years of school if you'd held a gun to my head."

"Oh." She handed him a mug. "I guess that's all right then. Cream and sugar are on the tray."

"I take it black, thanks." He took a big swallow. It was decent coffee. With the mug cupped in both hands, and held up to his mouth, he had a reason not to talk.

"You still look a bit chilled," Lloyd said. "Minnesota takes a bit of getting used to."

"Sure. Although I'm hoping to see snow. What good is all this cold if it's just brown and dry?" He realized a second later that his words might seem like a slur on their state.

But Emily said eagerly, "That's what I think too. We used to get more snow when I was a kid. I swear we did. But they say we might get some on Christmas Day, so you could have your white Christmas."

"I saw real deep snow once. I was in Maryland a couple years back and they had a Nor'easter come through. Dumped over a foot of it. Too late for Christmas though."

"I love a white Christmas," Gayle said. "The tree and the lights, maybe a fire in the hearth and family all around me, and then the snow falling. I'd love to have that this year."

"I'd like that too, if it happens."

Jesse growled, "So would I, you know? So would other people." He got up and set his mug back on the tray with a bang. "I'm going to go bring in some wood for the fireplace."

Sam stood too. "Can I help?" He wasn't sure what was eating his half-brother, but in his experience working a job together was a good way to break the ice.

Jesse said, "Suit yourself."

It wasn't an eager response, but Sam said to Gayle, "If you'll excuse me for a bit? It would be good to be up and moving around, now that I've warmed up with your good coffee. I spent a lot of time sitting down, driving. I think my butt's asleep."

"Sure. Of course."

He got his jacket and boots on and followed Jesse out into the yard. The woodpile was under a lean-to roof but Jesse was having a hard time getting a log off it. When Sam got close, he saw it had been frozen together by rain or snow. He grabbed the end of one of the splits of wood and rocked it, cracking it free, which freed up Jesse's too.

"How many do we need?"

"About a dozen. The dry stuff in the bin inside won't last the day. Mom likes a fire through the holidays."

"My mom does too. My real, um, other mom. She has all her menfolk splitting wood for her in the fall." He cracked another log loose, and then they got into the drier levels below. He added a third one to his load. "It looks like you could use more overhang on this roof, huh?"

"I'm sure you would never make that kind of mistake."

He turned to face Jesse. "Look, I don't know what bee you've got in your bonnet about me, but maybe you want to get to know me better before you start assuming stuff?"

"Like?"

"I've made my share of mistakes." And coming here might be one of them. He lifted his armload. "I'm not here to barge in or take your place with your mom or none of that stuff. I just wanted to meet her." I just wanted to get away.

Jesse looked at him consideringly. "Did you have a fight with your own folks?"

Did it show? He said cautiously, "Not what you might call a fight. A disagreement, yeah."

"So you came to hang out with my family. Most of it."

"Huh?"

"Never mind. Grab that wood."

"Got it." He followed Jesse back inside and helped load the logs into the rack by the fireplace. "Shall I get this lit, Gayle?"

"Oh, would you? Matches are right there. Paper..."

"I see it." It was good to have something to do. His back was to the room, so no one was looking at him. The fire caught nicely, sending the homey smell of pine smoke into the room. He had a flash of nostalgia for years of Christmas Eves beside a different hearth. You could have been there... He shoved the thought away. It wouldn't have been the same. He wondered where Clint was tonight. Who Clint was, and who he was with. The logs crackled and popped, as little beads of resin caught flame. Eventually he had to turn around. "This is a real nice house you have."

"Thanks." Gayle glanced around. "Maybe I could show you to your room, let you relax a bit before dinner?"

"That'd be nice."

He detoured out to his truck to get his bag, then followed her upstairs to a modest bedroom with a single bed. She said, "I bet that bed's going to be a bit short. This was Jesse's old room, and it fit him. How tall are you?"

"Six-three. But I'll be fine. I tell you, I've slept in some far worse places."

She sat on the edge of the bed. "Will you tell me about yourself? Just, you know, whatever you don't mind telling. About your childhood, maybe. A mother always wonders."

He told her a bit, as he hung his three shirts in the empty closet. About the house in town and his small school and always having a dog or two. About his best friend Gordie and a little of the shit they got into, and that his mom was cool with it. About Clint being born.

"You have a brother?"

"Yes, ma'am. He's fourteen years younger than me. I didn't see as much of him as I'd have liked, when he was growing up. By the time he was in school, I'd deployed for my first tour overseas. But I was around some." Not enough. Not when I should have been. "He's a good kid."

"What does he do now?"

"Well, he's just seventeen." And I wish to God I knew.

"Oh, of course. Will he work on your ranch when he graduates, do you think?"

"It's not really big enough for that, and anyway, he never did like the ranch much. It's funny. All these years growing up, there was no doubt I was adopted. Mom and Dad are both short and dark. Folks called me the Viking kid sometimes. But I was like Dad in every other way. The same interests, the same goals. Then along comes Clint when they'd long since given up hope, and he's the spitting image of Dad and they couldn't be more different."

"You can't predict how kids will turn out," Gayle said. There was a sadness in her voice that he didn't understand, given the two healthy kids in the room downstairs. But who knew where the bodies were hidden. He wondered for an instant if she'd given up more than one baby, before those two got to stay.

"Nope." Although the way Dad always rode Clint hard, maybe he'd had an inkling.

"You just have to love them, whoever they are."

Did she mean him? That was a little uncomfortable. He did wish Mom and Dad could manage to see it that way. "Yes, ma'am."

She smiled. "Now I said to stop ma'am-ing me. All right? Do you need anything? There's towels over there if you want a quick shower. Dinner's in an hour."

"I might do that. And, um, I brought my tablet. Do you have WiFi set up here?"

"Sure." She went to the desk, found paper, and wrote on it. "That's the name and the password."

"Thanks."

"I'll leave you to relax then."

He waited until she was gone and then got out his iPad and went online. As usual he went first to his Facebook page, looking for messages. There were a few from friends, one from his mother hoping he had a safe trip. He quickly replied so she wouldn't worry. But nothing from Clint. Like always. He added a brief note about being in Minnesota for the holidays, rather than spending them at home this year. See, Clint, I left too. I'm on your side.

He typed "Clint Albright" into a search, came up with the usual hockey player and the fifty-three white pages listings, nothing new, nothing worth looking at. The hard part was that his brother had almost never gone by Clint, except under protest. He'd hated the name, and its association with Dad's hero Eastwood. He'd tried out name after name in some desperate search for who he was meant to be.

For all Sam knew, he might be looking for Adam Albright, or Toby Albright, or Chris Albright. Or Clint might have abandoned his last name too, along with his cell phone and his laptop and everything else Sam could have used to track him when he ran. Damned kid. Sam rubbed at his eyes. The screen blurred, but there was nothing there worth seeing anyway.

He put it away. A shower sounded good, before sitting down to dinner with his stranger of a mother, his cute sister, and oddly hostile half-brother.

***

Jesse was trying. He really was. He'd had an argument with Devin over the phone, in hushed tones, about whether he'd done his duty with Sam already by saying hello, and could go back to the hotel now and have Devin's ass in place of dinner. Devin insisted that keeping the peace meant actually getting through the meal.

So here he sat, eating his favorite foods without really tasting them and listening to Sam talk about his childhood horse, and the time he was caught in an ice storm on the way from North Carolina to New Jersey. Sam didn't seem to talk much about his time in the military. What he did say was mostly poking fun at himself for training mishaps, and minor disasters. He was pretty low-key, for a guy who stood six-foot-plus-some and still had the Marine haircut.

"And do you have a girlfriend?" Mom asked him.

"Or a boyfriend?" Jesse said innocently, widening his eyes when Mom glared at him.

"Yeah, I kind of have a girl," Sam said. He didn't react at all to the boyfriend quip. Jesse wasn't sure he'd heard it. "The problem is, right now I'm here, and out of the service, and she's still over in Iraq for another four months."

"Are you serious about her?"

Sam didn't seem to resent Mom's prying into his private life. "Once she rotates state-side, then we'll figure out just how serious we want to be."

Of course, he has a private life that can stand the light of day, right? Jesse shifted restlessly in his seat, and ate another green bean.

Emily said, "If it doesn't work out, I have a bunch of friends I can introduce you to. They'd have fist fights over you."

"Um, thank you."

"Just kidding. Sort of."

Dad said, "Will you go back to Texas to find a job? Or settle somewhere else?"

"It's kind of up in the air right now."

"We'd love to have you nearby," Mom said quickly. "To get to know each other. Minnesota's a pretty good place to find a job."

"If you don't mind freezing your balls off getting there five months of the year," Jesse pointed out.

This time it was Dad who glared at him.

Okay, he was just done with this. He stood. "Hey, I'm going to head out. I'll see you in the morning. Merry Christmas everyone. Nice to meet you, Sam." There, that was plenty friendly and polite, right?

He ignored Mom calling his name, and quickly tugged his coat on and headed out into the cold. The drive to the hotel was only a few blocks, and he felt the chill inside him warming at the thought of Devin, waiting. He parked, hurried inside, and slid his card through the door.

Devin sat on the bed, his legs stretched out, leaning against the headboard. He looked up from the book he was reading as Jesse came in. God, Jesse loved the way his eyes brightened just from seeing him walk in the door. Devin set the book down on his knee, stretched his arms over his head and smiled wickedly at Jesse.

Ooh, yeah, I'm liking that smile. Jesse kicked off his boots and tossed his jacket vaguely in the direction of the armchair, before jumping onto the bed to kiss Devin. "Miss me?"

"Yeah. Although you're back sooner than I thought. Problems?"

"Not really. I just wanted to be with you."

"Well, I'm not complaining."

Jesse slid over against the headboard, so their hips and thighs were touching, and wrapped his arm behind Devin's shoulders. "You like me better than that book?"

Devin pretended to consider that. "It's a very good book."

Jesse turned and kissed him.

Devin shoved the book aside, not even turning as it hit the floor. "Okay, not that good." After several long, satisfactory minutes, Devin sighed and smiled at him. "So, tell me about your new brother."

"Well." Jesse tried to put together his impressions. "He's very big, at least six-two, and very Texan. He says ma'am and he's got that drawl. High-and-tight hair, blue eyes like Mom's."

"And yours."

"I guess. He's not too bad, a bit quiet, really. He helped me get the wood in for the fireplace." He was trying really hard to be fair here.

"So not a total bigoted waste of space."

"I don't know about the bigoted. I did ask if he had a boyfriend and he didn't blink."

Devin coughed. "Really? What did your mom say?"

"She gave me the evil eye, and he told her he has a girlfriend who's still overseas."

"He didn't make the sign of the cross at you?"

"He pretty much ignored it."

"Hm."

"And now I want to ignore him." Jesse rolled over to straddle Devin's thighs. He held Devin's head steady between his hands and kissed him, pushing with his lips and tongue until Devin opened wide for him. He licked Devin's mouth, stroked over his tongue, traced his teeth. Devin grunted and bucked his hips up between Jesse's thighs.

Jesse nipped his lower lip, sucked it in and let go. "More naked." But when Devin started to push him back, he resisted. "Wait."

"What?"

"I want you like this, and me naked."

"Kinky." Devin smiled. "You tell me, then."

Jesse shuffled back a bit to get at Devin's jeans. "I want you lying back here, just your jeans open. Like, ready to be serviced."

Devin chuckled. "No downside so far. Just get the zipper far enough out of the way."

"I have done this a time or two." Jesse opened the brass button and tugged Devin's zip down slowly, then gripped his hips to pull him a bit flatter on the bed. There was already a very nice bulge stretching the fabric of Devin's boxers. He eased the jeans a bit lower, to give himself access to that tasty flesh, straining against the blue silk. "Mm. New underwear?"

"In your honor."

"Expecting something, were you?"

"You're kind of a sure thing, especially on Christmas Eve."

Jesse felt a moment of sadness wash through him. They had their rituals already, after just four years. And one of them was definitely having sweet, slow sex on this night, but not usually this early. He pushed the feeling aside. Hell, he wasn't in a mood for the sweet and slow anyway. He scooted lower so he could bend and run his mouth over Devin's cock through the slip of soft fabric.

Devin breathed faster, and rested a hand on Jesse's head.

Jesse mouthed him, still not moving the briefs aside, loving the way Devin bucked and panted as his lips glided silk over skin. When Devin reached down to free himself, Jesse grabbed his wrist. "Not yet. I'm driving."

"I'm back-seat driving. Get the damned boxers out of the way. I want to feel you."

Jesse took the head of Devin's eager cock into his mouth through the silk, soaking it, tasting a hint of salt. Devin pushed up, tenting the fabric against the stretch of his lips. He pulled off. "Yeah, time to lose that." He reached in and slid that gorgeous prick out the fly, taking a moment to kiss around the slit, before licking the shaft from curls to tip with the flat of his tongue. "I love the taste of you."

"Taste some more." Devin cupped the back of his head and pushed him down. Jesse went willingly, sucking as satin-skinned hardness slid deep over his tongue. Devin groaned. Jesse held the suction, swallowing to milk it, and then eased back up. He gave a couple of deep head-bobs that brought a trickle of salt from the tip.

"I won't last long with that," Devin warned. "Not complaining. But you're not, ung, not naked."

Jesse pulled off with a wet pop, and Devin's rigid cock slapped against his shirt, leaving a little smear.

"I will be." Jesse raised himself on his knees and unzipped his own jeans, carefully.

The little black thong he was wearing came into view, and Devin laughed hoarsely. "You wore that to your mom's? Wow. Looks like I wasn't the only one hoping to get lucky."

Jesse leaned forward to kiss him. "We're both lucky, and going to get more so." He shimmied out of his jeans, made difficult by Devin's knees between his thighs, but he didn't want to get off the bed. Devin gripped his hips for balance, warm fingers against his skin, as he worked the jeans and socks off. He tugged his sweater over his head.

"Mm." Devin hummed in appreciation. "Perfect. And perky."

Jesse slid a hand over his own chest, palming his tight nipple. "It's cold."

"I can warm you up." Devin held him still, and sat up enough to suck his other nipple hard, before lying back. "Plans?"

"You'll see." Jesse reached down between them and gripped Devin's cock, rubbing the tip against the stretched cotton over his own. He twisted, writhing his hips for friction while holding Devin still.

"Nice." Devin tried to thrust into his hand, but Jesse kept him pressed to the bed. He leaned forward again, letting Devin's hands balance him, and kissed him while he continued his lap dance. Devin sucked on his tongue, and then pushed back, probing Jesse's mouth, twining their tongues together. They kissed harder, lips pressed to teeth, breath in breath. Jesse whined in his throat and pulled away. "Lube?"

"Your side."

He leaned over to tug on the little drawer and fumbled for the lube. The bottle slipped through his fingers to the floor and he and Devin groaned in unison.

"Don't move." He swung off Devin's legs to go after it.

"Take off that cute bit of underwear you're almost wearing while you're at it?"

He bent, sticking his thong-adorned ass toward Devin, as he picked up the bottle and tossed it onto the bed. Then he struck another pose, hip-slung and head tilted. "You like it?"

"I love it. Worth whatever you paid for it. I'll love it even more in a heap on the floor."

Jesse chuckled and slid the straps down his legs. Just as well—the pouch was becoming quite tight. He twirled it on his finger and then slung it aside. "So. Where were we?" Crawling onto the bed he knelt over Devin, licking and biting at his chest, sucking one nipple to a tight nub, and then the other.

"Something like that." Devin cradled his head. "What do you want?"

"Gonna ride you. All right?"

"Always."

"I want your cock up my gay ass." This, this was who he was, damn it.

"You have more than one?"

"Bastard." But he couldn't resist kissing Devin again, more slowly.

He positioned himself, kneeling up over Devin's hips and opened the lube. He held Devin's sleek cock in his fist and poured a stream of lube over the tip. The liquid glided down, loosening his grip, and he began to stroke up and down, and twist, jerking Devin lightly and enjoying the way he gasped and moaned.

Devin grabbed his wrist. "Not too much of that, if you're hoping for a long ride."

Jesse settled lower, guiding Devin under himself. He hadn't prepped, but he'd go slow. Sometimes he liked the burn. Devin had learned not to ask or worry about it.

He held Devin steady, as he pressed lower, very slowly. He closed his eyes and savored the sweet familiar stretch as Devin breached him. The angle was off, and his adjustment slid the lube-slick tip out. He rubbed it against him, then eased back down. Deeper, and the stretch became heated. But his body knew how to do this, had done it a hundred times before. He breathed and relaxed his muscles, working his hips in tiny circles, feeling Devin's heat and Devin's hardness pushing into him.

He loved this, freaking loved it. Being filled and held, with Devin's hands on him and his cock stretching him deep. He opened his eyes, because the other part of that was watching Devin, as his blue eyes widened and darkened, as his chest and neck flushed and his mouth dropped open. Jesse rocked, seating himself. Devin grunted and his fingers tightened, digging into Jesse's hips. He arched upward between Jesse's thighs, driving them together tighter.

"So good, Jesse."

"Yeah." He began rocking harder, lifting his ass a little and driving it back down. Each thrust drove a small sound out of Devin. "Fuck me back."

Devin dug his heels into the bed and added to their motion, thrusting up into Jesse as he dropped down. The slap and grunt of their fucking made Jesse ache with need. This was so hot, so right, but not enough. He knelt back up, letting Devin slide out. Devin's whimper could almost be called pathetic. "What, Jess?"

He rolled onto the bed beside Devin, face down in the pillows and canted his ass up into the air. "Fuck me. I want it harder."

"God." Devin scrambled behind him, shoving his jeans down more, the fabric rough against Jesse's thighs. Then Jesse breathed out steadily against the burn of reentry.

"More lube."

There was coolness against his stretched asshole, as Devin trickled some on. The slide became easier, every inch and retreat a pleasure that went through Jesse, from ass to cock to all the rest of him. He closed his fists on the sheets and rocked in return, asking for speed. Asking for more. Devin gripped his thighs, spreading him wider, and picked up the pace.

In, in, in; push and drag and stretch and heat, building in a rhythm that would not be denied. It took away all thought, all other senses, burning him down to that one touch, and a need he couldn't quite reach. "Please, Devin. Jesus, yeah, please, please."

The fire in his ass was consuming him, washing over his balls and his stiff cock, scorching his lungs until each breath was dragged hoarsely against the need to shout. Devin leaned forward, chest on his back, thighs against his, heat melding their skins together. Devin's breath against his ear was scorching him; Devin's deep, thick moans filled Jesse's hearing.

He could tell Dev was close. He knew that stuttering shake that made the smooth thrusts become erratic, fast and off-target, and then on, and then off. He whined in his throat, unable to get a hand free. His cock dragged against the sheets with the force of Devin's body. Then Devin groaned long and hard, and gasped, "Oh, God. Oh, man." Jesse's fiery ass couldn't feel more than the grinding heat, but Devin's shudders shook them both. Then Devin reached down and jerked Jesse with short, fast, trembling strokes, and Jesse shouted even louder, and unloaded in a blinding rush against the bed.

The little tremors of aftershock went through them both, shaking Jesse's braced thighs, and rubbing Devin's chest against his sweat-slick spine. Devin kissed him on the neck and shoulder and the back of his head. "Wow. Just... wow."

"Yeah." Jesse let his hips collapse to the sheets, which slid Devin out of him. He laughed, because it was so perfect, and he was sore and sticky and sweaty, and it was so perfect.

Devin reached under a pillow and pulled out a small towel. "Here."

"Boy Scout." Jesse lifted himself just enough to do a little cleaning, and then folded the towel over the wet spot and collapsed on it again. "I'm wiped."

Devin snorted, tossed a wad of tissues in the direction of the trashcan, and pulled the rest of his clothes off. "Not very well wiped."

"Smart-ass." Jesse reached for him and pulled him down, working them into a spoon under the covers. "Come here. Lie with me. Let me hold you and sleep a bit." Devin tended to get energized by sex, while Jesse just wanted to crash. But this time, Devin felt soft and boneless in Jesse's arms, and his sigh was slow.

"Sure. Sleep. Good thought."

Jesse curled in tighter against his back, hoped the twinges in his ass wouldn't be enough to send him out of bed to deal with it, and kissed Devin's spine, his shoulder, his jaw. He closed his eyes. "Love you," he murmured against the damp, warm skin. This was home, here, with this man. He'd known that in his head, and in his heart, and now felt it penetrate soul-deep into his bones. "Love you so much."

Devin probably replied, but Jesse wasn't awake long enough to hear it.

Chapter 3

Devin was surprised to open his sleep-heavy eyes and see Jesse getting dressed. He glanced at the clock. Eleven. A look at the curtains assured him that no, it wasn't eleven the next morning. It was dark out there. And no doubt cold as a brass monkey's balls, whatever those were. Regardless, anyone's balls would be frozen out there.

"Why are you getting up?" he muttered, clutching the sheets up to his neck.

"I want my Christmas Eve kiss by the tree."

Devin woke up a bit more. It was their tradition, since the night they met—staying up till midnight to kiss in the glow of the lights, and then finding a bed for intense, slow sex. This would mark year five. But sweet as it was, anniversary of sorts or not, no tradition was worth getting out of a bed they were already in and venturing into that cold for. Plus, he wasn't sure what Jesse had in mind this year. "There's a tree in the lobby, I guess."

"I'm not kissing you in a hotel lobby."

"Then..."

Jesse had his best stubborn-as-a-mule look on. "We're going home for it."

"Wait, Jesse, are you sure?"

"Get your ass in gear and get dressed. We're going home."

Devin sat up in bed, but kept the covers over his bare skin. He just eyed Jesse and waited for the punch line.

Jesse flushed, but still looked determined. "It'll be midnight soon. Christmas Day. Mom said you could come over Christmas Day."

"I'm sure she meant at some normal time."

"I don't care. It's our day-we-met anniversary, and I want it. They'll be in bed anyway. You know, they've never stayed up this late before. We'll just sneak in, and hang out downstairs for a while. I don't see what it can hurt."

Devin eyed Jesse for a long minute, judging his commitment to this plan. Jesse continued to put on his socks, slowly and methodically. "You know, it might backfire. If your Mom happens to still be up, worrying about Sam or something? Or if Sam's a night owl? Why take a chance on blowing up the family Christmas?"

"It'd be her fault. She screwed it up first."

"Jeeze, listen to yourself. What are you, fifteen? You know, you're a bit of a perfectionist. You demand a lot of the people in your life."

"I don't need then to be perfect."

Devin raised his Mr. Spock eyebrow, even though he knew it bugged Jesse.

Jesse glared at him. "If I needed people to be perfect, I wouldn't hang out with you."

"Well, zing." He knew it was dumb but that actually hurt, when he was trying hard to be mature about all this.

He turned away, reaching for his crumpled clothes over the side of the bed. A moment later he was enveloped from behind in Jesse's arms. "God, I'm sorry. That was a cheap shot."

"A bit."

"I didn't mean it. I don't want you to be any perfecter, or I'd never be able to live up to you."

"Ah, hell." He turned enough to see Jesse's face. "You really want to do this?"

"Yeah, I do. Not just to piss off Mom. Not even mostly for that. From that first night, five years ago, when you found me staring at the tree lights and all emo, and you kissed it better, that's been my definition of perfect. The lights and the pine tree and your kiss. I want it."

"Okay." He stretched far enough to find his boxers, and decided he was not putting those on again without a wash. Fortunately he had more. "Let go of me so I can get dressed then."

Jesse stepped back. "Thanks."

"Love you so much," he said, in deliberate echo. Jesse's smile was sweet, although it twisted ruefully when he added, "Even when you're being a bit of a brat."

"Get your clothes on, old man. We have fifty-two minutes."

Sure enough, it was colder than ever when they got out to the car. A light frosting of something that wasn't quite snow dusted the ground, crunching underfoot. The inside of the car was only marginally warmer and he cranked the heater as Jesse pulled out into the street. It was pretty quiet, this late in the evening, but there were more cars than he expected. They passed a church with the parking lot half-full, and he realized there would be a midnight service. "It's a good thing your Mom isn't big on church."

"Yeah, in a lot of ways."

They skidded a bit on the next turn, and Jesse slowed down. "Getting a little slippery."

"When is it supposed to snow?"

"Any time now, I think."

Devin thought about suggesting they head back to the hotel, but the jut of Jesse's chin suggested he'd be shot down if he tried. And really, they were almost there.

The house was dark when they pulled into the drive. Jesse locked the car and headed around to the side door. "Let's go this way." He unlocked the door and went into the kitchen.

There was a low light on under one of the counters. Devin guessed that would be enough for a stranger like Sam to find the refrigerator in the night if he wanted to. The room smelled of pie spices and coffee. Jesse whispered, "I skipped desert. Want some pie?"

Devin smiled helplessly. "Sure. Why not."

Jesse found the pumpkin pie under cover on the counter, and served them both healthy slices. He slid the silverware drawer open, slowly and silently, and passed Devin a fork. They both dug in happily. Devin mumbled around a big mouthful, "If your Mom ever wanted to open a bakery, she'd make a fortune on just this."

"Good, huh?"

"D'you think she baked those cinnamon cookies too, like last year?"

"I think she baked everything that would fit in the oven, once she heard Sam was coming." Jesse paused, glanced at him, then took another big, deliberate bite.

"Our loss is our gain, then."

"I guess."

Devin finished his pie and set the plate in the dishwasher. The silverware clinked a little as he shut it, and he winced, listening. But there was no sound from above.

Jesse said softly, "Come on. Tree and kisses." He led the way into the living room.

Devin had loved this room from the first time Jesse had brought him home. It was open, with a vaulted ceiling, and yet the polished wood and the soft rugs and big overstuffed furniture made it feel warm. And of course there was the tree. Devin had had a love affair with Christmas trees ever since he was a boy. They'd rarely had one, growing up. Dad said their rooms were usually too small and they moved too often to keep ornaments around and pines made him sneeze, well, so the story went. Devin had to get his tree fix elsewhere. So he'd hung out in a lot of malls and libraries and other public spaces, just soaking in the essence of the holiday.

He really loved this tree. Lloyd always took advantage of the high ceiling to buy a big one, to the point where decorating had to be done with a step-stool in hand. It was a balsam this year, fragrant and classic in shape. The ornaments glittered, blue and silver balls almost obscured by the wild and wonderful mismatched results of two decades of Jesse and Emily. Homemade glitter and country kitsch blended with silver ice-skates and beaded snowflakes. And amidst it all, hundreds of colored lights shone steadily in blue and green and red and gold. If Devin squinted, they dissolved into starbursts of shimmer, coating the tree in light.

Jesse went over and touched things, a bell here, a wooden star painted gold there. Devin watched him, against the backdrop of his childhood, and felt a touch of envy. "Come on, let's sit down."

They sat side by side on the big couch, looking at the tree. Jesse said, "Do you remember? That first time?"

"Oh yeah. I was bored and lonely, wandering through Brian's house. Everyone else had gone outside to watch holiday fireworks, but my ex was out there with his new guy and I didn't want to see them. And then there by the tree in the empty living room was the hottest guy I'd seen in months."

"Just months?"

"Who's telling this story?"

"If it was me, I'd say, 'Hottest guy ever.'"

"Hottest guy I'd seen in years."

Jesse snuggled closer. "Go on."

"So I was trying to figure out an approach, a good line to use. And then that hot guy sighed, and I could tell he'd been crying."

"Yeah, all emo because it was the first year I hadn't made it home for the holidays."

"And I just had to go up and say, um, say..." God, he'd managed to be brave. Somehow he'd known with Jesse it would be all right.

"You said, 'You look like a guy who could use a hug.'"

"Well, you did."

"Yeah. And then you hugged me, and I fit in against your shoulder. And I could hear your heart beating slowly."

Devin had to smile, remembering. "You said, 'Do I also look like a guy who could use a kiss?'"

"Well, it couldn't hurt to ask, right? And you were the hottest guy I'd seen, ever."

"Flattery."

"Will it get me a kiss?"

"It did then."

"Yes."

They had turned enough to look at each other. He'd stared into Jesse's sky-blue eyes, shiny and bright, lashes still damp and clumped. And he'd kissed him. It hadn't been the hottest kiss ever, or the softest. But he'd felt like they fit, better than any man he'd ever kissed before.

"And now?" Jesse asked, turning toward him.

Devin leaned in and kissed him gently. The lights glinted in the glass of the pictures on the mantelpiece behind him. The scent of the balsam and the soft smoke of the fire, smoldering to embers, were familiar. "Five years," he murmured against Jesse's mouth.

"I'm so glad I was crying about that Christmas tree."

"Me too."

They kissed softly, then harder. Devin cupped the back of Jesse's head. Jesse turned to him, and knocked a book off the coffee table with a soft thud. For a second they froze, but there was no sound from upstairs. Jesse chuckled and nipped at his lower lip.

And an unfamiliar deep voice from the stair said loudly, "What the hell?"

Devin jumped up in front of Jesse, turning to the voice. That had to be Sam. Tall—check. Blond—check. Texan—obviously. Pissed off? It seemed like he was. While Devin was deciding what to say, and Jesse was disentangling himself from the couch, Gayle came hurrying down the stairs, a robe wrapped around her. "Sam, is there a problem? Oh!" She saw Devin and stopped short.

Devin sighed. "Merry Christmas, Gayle."

"You're here?" She hesitated.

Jesse moved up beside Devin. "Hey, Mom, sorry if we woke you."

"I heard Sam shout."

Sam turned to her. "Yeah, sorry about that. I heard a noise and came down to check on it. I wasn't expecting Jesse and—" He turned to Devin. "—you must be... his boyfriend?"

"Yes." Devin held out his hand, and Sam gripped it in a brief, strong handshake.

"I'm his, um, brother, Sam. It's complicated. Did he tell you?"

"Oh, yeah. Chapter and verse. I'm Devin."

"Good to meet you. You just got in?"

"In a way."

"It's a pity you didn't make it to dinner with us. Gayle's cooking is something else." Sam gave Gayle a smile that got a little thin when she just stared at him. "Sorry I woke you, ma'am, really. I didn't think anyone was downstairs. I knew where you all were, and I hadn't heard anyone on the stairs and... um, it's a side effect of active duty. Noises I'm not expecting make me jumpy."

"No." She visibly gathered herself together. "That's fine. I wasn't expecting Devin either."

Jesse said, with an edge to his voice, "He made it here for Christmas Eve after all."

"So I see."

"That's nice," Sam said. "Family is good at the holidays. Are you in town for a while, Devin?"

"A couple of days."

"Then hopefully we'll get more chances to talk."

Jesse said loudly, "So you don't mind me having my boyfriend around?"

"Why would I mind? In the first place, it'd be none of my business, really." Sam's tone was mild. "And then, I'm here to find out about my birth family, right? So if y'all are together, then he's family too."

Devin said, "Jesse was worried you might not be okay with the gay, between the Marines and Texas and all."

"It wasn't me," Jesse whispered. Devin took his hand and squeezed it.

Gayle said, "It was me. And I'm sorry about all of it. And I'm going back to bed now. Jesse? We'll talk in the morning?"

Jesse nodded stiffly, and they watched as she disappeared back up the stairs.

Sam said more quietly, "Was she thinking I'd be a redneck?"

"Yes." Jesse leaned closer to Devin, hip against his hip. "Or maybe not that bad. She didn't want to get you upset right off the bat."

"Oh. So that's why you didn't say anything about Devin. Although I did wonder that time at dinner." Sam paused, glancing between them. "Was... Devin didn't skip dinner on my behalf, did he?"

"Something like that."

"Crap." Sam looked far more upset than that warranted. "Shit. I am so, so sorry."

"Hey, not your fault." Devin smiled. "Really, we're good now, right?"

"It totally sucks that you two thought you had to hide because of me."

"It's not that big a deal."

"Yeah, it kind of is." Sam took a deep breath.

"Relax," Devin said. "We have plenty of time. We'll start over."

"I guess." Sam sat on the edge of an armchair. "So. You two are serious together, right? And you live in Pennsylvania?"

"Yes."

"Is there... okay, this is dumb."

"What is?" Devin made his voice soft, because something was clearly bothering Sam more than anything that had happened so far could explain.

"I was going to ask if you knew... is there a place... if you were a gay kid, away from home. Is there a place you would be likely to go? Like somewhere in San Francisco, maybe? Or New York? Or Pittsburgh?"

Jesse said, "Are you looking for a gay kid?"

"Yeah, I am. My brother. My other brother."

"Seriously?" Jesse cut off a laugh. "Sorry, it's just, well, you never know, right? So what happened? You don't know where he is?"

"No." Sam rubbed his eyes, and the look on his face made Devin's own heart ache. "I don't. Not for eight months now."

***

Sam clenched his jaw and waited to see what Jesse would say. Or maybe his partner, because Devin seemed like a good guy. He was solid, and quieter than Jesse, and his eyes were thoughtful.

Devin tugged Jesse down onto the couch beside him and said, "Tell us."

Sam hesitated, realized he was twisting his hands together like a guy trying to find words for a your-son-was-killed-overseas notification, and deliberately laid his palms flat on his knees. This wasn't that bad, because Clint was still alive, somewhere. Right? "He ran away. Shortly after he turned seventeen."

When he got stuck there, Devin said, "Did it have something to do with him being gay?"

"Yeah. I assume. Everything."

"Your parents weren't okay with that?"

"Not even close." Sam winced. "Although, you know, if he'd stuck it out and given them time, they might have been. But the one thing Dad and Clint have in common is a temper. And holding a grudge. They had some epic battles. So I bet Dad blew up, and Clint just stormed off like usual. But this time, he kept going." Damned hotheaded teenager. Although he could almost feel the hurt of the things Dad had probably said. And of Mom, just sitting there, letting him say them.

"But your folks didn't actually kick him out?"

"Nope. And they say he's still welcome to come home. Except not really."

Jesse said, "How, then?"

"Dad says he can come back as long as he doesn't bring that queer stuff into the home." He sighed. "I can just imagine him saying that to Clint, and Clint telling him he is that gay stuff, so he must not be welcome either."

"You weren't there?"

"That's the hardest part. I was overseas. They didn't even tell me for a couple of weeks. They thought he was staying with friends and would come back." He could hear Dad saying, 'with his tail between his legs'. How many years had he lived with Clint, to still believe that?

"But he didn't?"

"No one saw him after he walked out. I hired someone, a detective, when I finally got home. I couldn't get emergency leave, just because a kid that age headed out on his own, so this was months later."

"Your parents didn't look for him?"

"Not... formally. Not like sending out pictures or hiring a private eye to search. They asked around a bit, and then pretended he'd come home when he came to his senses." He slammed a fist on the arm of the chair. "I don't get how they can make themselves believe that!" What had Mom said? 'He'll grow out of it. It's just a phase. He just wants to make Dad mad again.' What a load of crap. "They always thought half the stuff he did was to bug Dad. Dad loves football, so Clint adores hockey. Dad was just barely okay with him doing gymnastics, so he joined the cheerleading squad. Dad wanted him to go to college, so he joined a band and wanted to go into music."

Devin smiled faintly. "It does sound like they were oil and water."

"Exactly. But it wasn't Clint trying to get his goat. Well, okay, some of it was. But most was just Clint doing what he wanted to, full speed ahead and damn the torpedoes, and Dad completely unable to understand him. He loves Clint—I know he does. Even now. But he doesn't get him, and he wants Clint to be more like him. Or more like me. And it's not going to happen. It wasn't going to, even before they found out he was gay."

Jesse said, "But your detective couldn't find him."

"He did get evidence that Clint took a bus to Houston. But from there, he just disappeared."

"And he couldn't trace him somehow?"

"Clint left everything. His laptop, his cellphone, his truck, the keys to the goddamn house." Sam blinked hard. They'd been piled in a heap on the bed, a faint sheen of dust on the laptop where they hadn't been touched, months later. Mom had just closed the door and left the room.

"I got someone to get into his computer. His passwords were apparently real good, but they managed it. But there was no sign where he went. He was a big fan of the Pittsburgh Penguins, and he loved New York theater, and San Francisco's music scene. The detective checked some places in all three cities and Houston, but no one had seen him. I don't even know what name he'd be using. He hated 'Clint', said Eastwood was a psychopathic bully in Dad's favorite movies. He used a lot of other names."

"Has he turned eighteen?"

"Not yet. In February."

"So he might still be hiding from the cops as a runaway."

"Yeah. God, it kills me to think he's out there somewhere, alone, at Christmas. I've emailed him about a hundred times, but he's either not checking it, even from a library, or he doesn't believe me when I say I'm fine with a gay brother and I just want to know he's okay." He couldn't control the wobble in his voice on that last bit. He clenched his fists until his fingers ached.

Devin said, "Maybe he doesn't remember his passwords. If they were good, they'd be complicated ones. Maybe he can't get in."

"Yeah. I also posted on my Facebook that I wanted to hear from him. On the public part, in case."

"So he would know you were okay with him being gay that way... Hm."

"Well, I didn't put the okay-with-gay on there. I didn't want to out him, in case he ended up going to one of our uncles or someone for help. I don't think my parents told the rest of the family, and I don't know who might have a problem. I didn't want to cut him off from anyone."

"Did you at least post a rainbow flag or something?"

"No." Sam frowned, realizing maybe he should have. A flag. A Trevor Project logo. Something that didn't point straight to Clint. "I could do that. Good idea."

"You might do even better," Devin said. He fumbled for his phone, turned it on. "Post something about meeting new family, and then put this up." He held out the phone. On it was a picture of him with Jesse. Jesse was snuggled up under his arm, with a bit of a sad expression. Devin looked protective. It was nice, and clearly, obviously, gay. "You could tell the world you have another gay brother."

Sam glanced at Jesse. "You wouldn't mind?"

"Nah. Don't put our names on the public one. But there's plenty of pictures of Devin and me together floating around. If it might help, go for it."

I... wait here." He took the stairs two at a time, as quietly as he could in that sleeping household, and fetched down his tablet. "Okay. Now..." He took a second as usual to check his email and messages. A bunch of holiday greetings. No messages from Clint. He showed them the latest picture he had. "This is me and Clint. Or Troy, he was then. A year ago."

"Cute guy. A lot smaller than you."

"Yeah, my dad is short too. But tough." He hoped Clint had inherited some of that toughness, and not just the temper. He called up his account. "This is my email. Can you send me the picture?"

"Sure." Devin got on his phone. "Sent."

He got the ping, opened the attachment, and set it up. Thought for a moment, and typed, ~Lots of you know I'm adopted. I got a chance to meet my birth family this Christmas. They're great! I have a younger half-sister and a half-brother. We all have the same blue eyes. Although my half-brother's boyfriend does too, so I can't be sure it's just family genetics. See? ~ He posted a copy of the picture, big enough that Devin and Jesse's eyes were clear to see. Then he handed the tablet to Jesse. "What do you think?"

"That's pretty gay-friendly." Devin leaned over and kissed Jesse on the temple. "I do love those blue eyes."

"Back at you." Jesse looked at the tablet over his shoulder. "Yeah. Not bad. Maybe another note meant specifically for him?"

He took it back and added, ~I wish I could have all my family together for the holidays. No way this year, I guess. I'd love to have my brothers meet though, and for Clint to get to know my sister. They're good people and I think they'd get along well. Maybe soon. If anyone wants to get in touch, my phone number hasn't changed since high school.~

Devin nodded. "That's nice. Not too obvious if you don't know about him, but the invitation's clear."

Sam stared at the screen for a while. He blinked hard, and added, ~I'm blessed with people who love me, and a warm home and good things around me. My thoughts go out tonight to all the people who don't have that. Although love is the biggest of those, and it can be there when the rest isn't. Happy Holidays to all, stay safe, stay warm, and may you each have someone to be with tonight.~

He jumped as Devin rubbed his shoulder gently. "It's hard. I hope your brother's okay."

"Me too." So many things could happen to a teenager on the street with no money and no help. "Damned kid. He knows my phone number. It's the same one he memorized when he was six."

"I hope he calls."

"Me too," Jesse said.

Sam clenched his teeth, and stood. "I'm going up to bed. Are you two staying here tonight?"

"Nope." Jesse grinned. "We have a hotel room so we can have screaming sex and not do it in my mother's house."

"So at least she's okay about the two of you being together. Right?"

"Yeah, she is. Mostly. It took a while though."

If only Clint had some patience. If only Dad wasn't so damned pig-headed, and Mom wasn't so passive. "Well, I'll see you tomorrow, then?"

"Yep. We'll be here for Mom's epic Christmas brunch. It's not to be missed."

"Sounds great." He climbed the stairs and went into his room. Jesse's room. He set the tablet on the bed and looked around. Nothing in it said gay. Had Gayle tidied that away, or were there just no clues? It was a bit generic, probably changed to be a guest room.

He flopped down on the bed, wincing as it creaked and thumped. But no one on the upper floor stirred at the sound. He picked up his phone tethered on its charger cord by the bedside, went online to make sure his new Facebook post was visible, checked his messages. Dammit, Clint, call me.

He lay back, tugging his sweats more comfortably under him. As a Marine, he'd learned to catch some sleep wherever and however he could. But tonight, in this quiet, comfortable room, he couldn't drift off. He kept thinking about his brother, out there who knew where, doing what? Curled up in a bed, or on a piece of cardboard in some alleyway? Working a job or turning tricks? Doing drugs? Dead? Safe, please God, let him be safe.

And Mom and Dad. He reached for his phone, scrolled to the generic, "Merry Christmas, son," message they'd sent. He could picture them tonight, in front of the perfect red-and-gold tree that Mom decorated, drinking Dad's one glass of whiskey and Mom's after-five-P.M. decaf coffee. The grandfather clock would tick, they would talk a bit about the weather, or the news. Would they talk about their sons? Would Mom look at Dad and actually say how scared she was for Clint? Had Dad admitted he wished the boys were both home? Or had they skated lightly through a meaningless conversation and gone off to bed?

On impulse he texted, ~Miss you, Mom and Dad. This place is great, but it's not home. I miss Clint too. I'm praying he's happy and safe, and maybe with a guy he can love, tonight.

After just a moment the incoming message pinged. ~Miss you too, son.

No rant, but no agreement either. Although they were still up, later than usual. Worrying? Having regrets? He wasn't sure Dad let himself have regrets. Hell. He checked his voicemail one more time, and set the phone aside.

All through the night he dozed, waking over and over again with the certainty he'd heard something chirp or buzz, only to check email and phone and find nothing. Once it was real, but it was just an incoming greeting from a Seattle friend, on their earlier time zone. Around four AM he got a text from Dora. ~Merry Christmas. Are you awake?

He texted back, ~Yep. Miss you. Can't wait till you're within, oh, five hundred miles or so.

~Optimist. Yeah, me too. I want a lot closer than that though.

He thought about her sweet voice and soft curves, tough attitude and arms he could hide in and not feel weak. ~Yeah, God, me too.

~This is a kiss - X

~This is one back. X and something more —o

~I'm going to pretend I can't figure out what that stands for. I hope your — and my o get together soon.

~Where are you? Can you say?

~Nope. And I only have a second. But I'm glad you were awake.

~Stay safe out there, Dora-Explorer mine

~You only get to call me that because you're too far away to beat up. Any sign of Clint?

~Nope. Not so far. Check my FB when you get a chance though.

~I will. Crap. Got to go. XXXXX

He typed. ~XX —o —..o —o —..o and XX

There was no reply. He hoped she'd laughed.

The night dragged on. Around six, he heard Gayle getting up, although it was pitch dark out. The shower ran, and then her footsteps went down the stairs. Jesse had said "brunch" so it was probably way early, but he couldn't stay in bed. He dressed up in good slacks and a cashmere sweater Mom had given him, and went downstairs.

Gayle was in the kitchen, drinking a mug of coffee at the table. She jolted in surprise when he came in, but smiled at him. "Hey, can I get you something?"

"Just some of that." He nodded at her cup.

"I made a pot. Mugs are in the cupboard right above it."

He served himself and sat opposite her, drinking slowly. The coffee was a bit thin. He was more used to thick and overcooked. It wasn't bad though.

After a while, Gayle said, "I'm just thinking about regrets. The things you do, the things you don't do. They pile up."

"You shouldn't have regrets over me. I had a great childhood. Loving parents, pets, sports, friends, lots of family."

"That's good to hear. Yes." She looked at him with those eyes so like his own. "You do understand? I was sixteen. I was scared. Your dad was a lot older, a grad student at college, and I'd told him I was twenty. We'd gone out a few times. I didn't even know his last name. And... I just hid, trying to decide what to do."

"Well, from my side, I'm glad you didn't go the abortion route."

"Oh, me too." She touched his hand. "I do have regrets though. Not about giving you up. That was for the best. But not trying to find your dad and get his name, let him know. You should have that information, and he should have had the chance to know you. But we were just casual and I didn't want to let him have a say in what I decided."

"I do understand. And I have a Dad." Even if he is a stubborn, closed-minded idiot sometimes. "And Lloyd is great too. It's okay."

She smiled. "It's him I'm feeling more and more sorry for. You really did turn out good, didn't you?"

"Thank-you, ma'am."

"And then there's Devin. You're really all right with him and Jesse?"

"Sure. They seem good together. Aren't you?"

"Yes. Yeah, I am. Now. I admit, I wasn't thrilled at first. It's not what you picture for your kids, you know. And Jesse isn't a big guy. I worry about him getting hurt, being, you know, gay."

"He's tough, though. Even I can tell that. And Devin seems like he'd look out for him."

"Mm. You do have a girlfriend, though?"

"Yeah. Dora. She's regular Army. She's a Sergeant, a hell of a lot tougher than me, with a shitload of commendations. Um, excuse my French. She's amazing."

"And you're planning to get married and have kids?"

"Maybe." He frowned. "Yes, someday I want kids, for sure. Probably with Dora, but we're a ways from that point yet."

"Still, that's good."

He guessed that not having kids was one of her issues with Jesse, but it wasn't his place to pry. Instead, he said, "My younger brother is gay too. That's not well known, and I'd like to keep it quiet, because he's just a teenager."

"So he might still change his mind."

"Hell, no." He stared at her. "But he may have to get along with the extended family a bit longer, before he comes out to everyone."

"What does your mother think?"

"Well, she's letting my dad blow off steam right now. But I think she'll be okay with it."

"It takes time."

"It shouldn't," he said passionately. "He's her kid. Telling him it's not okay to be gay is like telling him he can't have brown eyes. It's stupid. But yeah, she's kind of stuck on it being a choice. I think she'll come around." God, I hope.

Gayle suddenly gave him a bright smile, inexplicably tinged with tears. "You are a good man, Sam Albright. I'm proud to have had any part of making you. I'm going to go upstairs and get this robe off, get dressed, and then I'll come down and start on my special pancake batter. It has to rest for an hour."

He fumbled for something to say. "Would you show me how? I've had someone else cook for me all my life. I should really learn more than grilling burgers on the Weber."

She stood, and her smile got more solid. "I'd like that."

***

Jesse hesitated for just one second before putting his key in the front door. But it was daylight and Christmas, and the house was lit up brightly, with all the decorations turned on. He pushed open the door, and led the way in.

The aroma of cooked apples and cinnamon reached them. Devin gave an exaggerated sniff. "If your Mom wasn't married, I'd ask her, just for those pancakes."

"I make you those pancakes."

"Hers are better."

Jesse grinned and reached for Devin's jacket. He was determined to move on today. New day, holiday, no holding a grudge. Maybe. "I'll hang these in the closet. You go butter up the chef."

Devin leaned close to his ear. "I'd rather butter you up. Later."

Jesse cursed as he took his time hanging the coats. He couldn't walk into the family kitchen with a hard-on. Luckily it only took a minute, and thinking about his mom, to deal with that. He followed laughing voices to the kitchen.

Sam was there, with one of Mom's aprons covering maybe half of his broad chest. He had a smudge of flour on his blue sweater, but he was grinning. "I defy you to tell which ones are hers and which are mine."

"Ooh, my kind of challenge," Jesse quipped. "It requires eating two servings."

"Sit," Mom said, "I'll dish them out. You sit too, Sam."

Emily came dashing in. "Hi all, Happy Christmas. Sorry I'm late. Devin!" She squealed and leaped on him. "Missed you last night."

"Sorry, squirt. Something came up." He set her back on her feet. "We're all here now."

"So we are," Mom said mistily. "It's so nice."

"Now, Gayle," Dad rumbled from where he sat. "Don't cry. I swear, what is it with women crying when they're happy?"

She shoved his shoulder. "Go on, you cry too. Anyway, the food's all ready. Let's eat."

Jesse made up for last night, stuffing himself with apple pancakes and cinnamon rolls and bacon and sausage and all the familiar goodness. Every time he looked at Devin, digging in with goodwill, his chest felt a little tight. Jesus, he was so lucky. He could have been like poor Clint, off in the wind somewhere, eating Kraft macaroni and cheese. He knew a couple of guys whose lives as out-and-gay had started that way. At least they were proof it could turn out all right eventually.

After eating they moved to the living room and sat around like overstuffed lumps, trying to digest it all enough to open gifts. Dad put a CD of carols on the stereo at low volume, and the tree shone in the background. Not surprisingly, it was Emily who broke first. "Prezzies?"

Mom laughed. "Sure. If you deliver them."

"Don't I always?" It was the youngest kid's duty to find something for everyone under the tree, and pass out a round, before they all started opening. Emily jumped up and began checking the brightly-wrapped boxes for tags.

She delivered a colorful gift to each person. Sam looked startled but pleased by the big package she set next to him. When everyone had something, Dad looked around the room. "Merry Christmas to all. We are so, so lucky to be together, healthy, and happy today."

They echoed the sentiment. Devin bit his lip, then smiled at Jesse. Jesse wondered if he was thinking about last night, or about his own father, sitting in a wheelchair in a room that would smell faintly of pee and stale food, surrounded by decorations that neither he nor half the residents around him could understand anymore. Jesse leaned over the box in his lap to kiss him. "Merry Christmas, hon."

By some agreement, they all paused with their own gifts to watch Sam open his. He flushed a little, but stripped the paper off a heated car seat cover.

"So you feel better about visiting Minnesota," Mom said.

"It's great. Thank you."

As if freed by that, they indulged in the usual orgy of gift-giving. Dad ran out of presents first. Then Sam. Mom got a bottle of scented lotion from Devin, which startled Jesse. He leaned over to whisper, "When did you buy that?"

"Yesterday afternoon. I did some last-minute shopping while you were out."

"Oh." The photo with its hand-crafted frame had been their intended present. It actually sat under the tree, tucked toward the back. He'd brought it over himself yesterday, and set it up on the brightest box. Somehow, Emily kept missing picking it up. Finally, Emily rummaged through the snowstorm of wrapping on the floor and said. "Almost done. One more for Mom, and, hah, two left for me."

She handed over the flat package with the gold paper to Mom, and ripped into her own. Devin glanced at Jesse, but said nothing, as they watched Mom unwrap hers. She opened it carefully, peeling the tape instead of tearing it. The back came into view, with the fancy frame of carved and gilded wood. She smiled and turned it over. For a long minute she stared down at their faces, one finger brushing the edge of the frame.

Dad looked over. "Wow, great picture."

Jesse said, "Grant took it."

"He does good work. Never would have guessed it when he was here as a kid, tipping things over and eating all the cookies."

"I'm going to set this on the mantle with the others," Mom said in a stuffy voice. She turned away from them, to rearrange the frames to make room right in the center. Without turning, she added, "I need to run upstairs for a moment. Thanks, everyone. I'll be right back." She hurried out.

Dad said casually, "I need the john too. Back in a minute. Great gifts, everyone. Thank you. Merry Christmas."

Jesse watched him follow Mom, unsure if he should do something. Devin took his hand, twining their fingers together. "Let them go," he murmured. "Think about the gifts I haven't given you yet."

"Jesus," Jesse muttered back. "Not here." But he smiled and relaxed against Devin's shoulder. He'd trust Dad to sort Mom out this time.

Devin asked Sam, "Any luck. Phone calls, I mean? Facebook?"

"Nope." He looked sad, but said firmly, "It's early days yet. He has to see it first."

"Right. Give him time."

Emily glanced around brightly. "So. Anyone up for a rousing game of Scrabble? Or we have a bunch more choices."

"Sure." Sam stood and stretched. "Lead me to your games, milady."

"They're in the den."

A moment after they'd left the room, Mom and Dad came down the stairs. Mom glanced around, then said, "Oh, good. Jesse, Devin, I wanted to say something."

Devin said quickly, "You don't have to."

"Yeah, let's not get heavy here," Jesse agreed. Devin was clearly assuming it would be an apology. Jesse wasn't so sure, after his stunt last night.

But Mom did smile at Devin and say, "Okay. I'm just glad you're in the family, that's all. I'm glad Jesse has you. And I'm sorry." She opened her arms tentatively.

Devin jumped to his feet. He took two steps to her and folded her into a hug. "I'm glad to be here too. And family's never easy, is it?"

"Nope." Her voice was muffled against his shoulder. "Worth it though."

"Yes." Jesse's loudness surprised even him. Seeing Devin hug his mother, seeing Mom smile at him, should have choked Jesse up. But his voice was loud and clear. "So worth it. Now get your hands off my guy, and come sit with us, and tell us about your latest knitting project, okay?"

Chapter 4

Sam checked his phone again to be sure it was on. And charged. And had bars. Which it did, dammit.

It had been a nice day. He'd even managed a long call home. Nothing had really been said, except a lot of stuff about a sick bull and the possibility of a snowstorm still hanging fire here, and how expensive hay was this year. At the end they'd each asked, "Any word from the kid?" And each answered, "No." And wished each other a good Christmas. And hung up.

He stretched in the chair, easing the waistband of his jeans. They'd had a late lunch, which had been totally unnecessary after that breakfast. He was going to get fat in just three days, if he didn't get in some PT.

Then his phone buzzed. He pulled it out, carefully casual, and looked. Unknown number. Unfamiliar area code. Probably someone trying to sell him a Caribbean vacation. "Albright."

There was a pause. "Sam?"

His heart started hammering in his chest. "Clint?"

"I go by Rick, now."

"Oh, God." He glanced around the room. Jesse and Devin, snuggled on the loveseat with readers, had looked up to stare intently. Emily had her ear-buds in. Gayle was in the kitchen. He bounced up out of the chair. "Stay with me." The stairs to his room seem long, even taken three at a time. "Clint. Rick. Just don't hang up, okay."

"Not going anywhere."

He closed the door behind him and paced, the phone to his ear, too wired to sit down. "First off, are you okay? Not hurt? Sick?"

"I'm fine."

"Okay. Okay." He reminded himself to slow down, not push too hard. He wanted to demand to know where Clint, no Rick, was. Name, rank and serial number. Don't move till I get there. He forced himself calm. "So tell me what I can do for you. Anything."

"I don't know."

He tried to gentle his voice. "You remember what I told you, when you first started going out on your own, back when you were fourteen?"

"Always use a condom, stay away from hard drugs, and don't hurt anyone on purpose? Sorry, bro, I messed up the first two."

His heart lurched at that, but it was fixable. Or at least, they could deal with it, whatever it turned out to be. As long as Clint was alive. "You messed up the third one too when you kept radio silence for eight fucking months, kid."

"I wasn't sure."

"You should know me!" He dialed back the angst. This wasn't about him. "Anyway, that's a good list, but it's not what I meant. Do you remember when you got into Dane Cartell's damned Oldsmobile?"

Clint said slowly, "That you would come get me if I needed it, anywhere. Anytime. You wouldn't promise not to yell afterward, but you'd always come get me." His voice was hoarse by the end of that.

Sam blinked hard. "Yeah. I was the one who broke that promise. I was in Iraq when you needed me to come for you. But I'm home now. Just say the word. If you're okay where you are, that's great. But if it sucks, then I'll be there in whatever time it takes my truck to make it. No questions asked."

"Really?"

"For sure."

"I don't know." He could hear Clint—no, Rick, Rick, Rick—moving around restlessly. Wherever he was, the floor was uncarpeted.

"Are you indoors at least?"

"Yeah, I'm couch surfing with this guy I met."

"Safe?"

"I guess. He's... no, never mind."

Sam bit his tongue hard, to keep from snapping, "Tell me." Giving orders had never worked with...Rick. "So you're going by Rick now. I can see that working for you. Albright? Or did you pick a last name too?"

"I'm Richard Cory."

"Oh, fuck." The words dropped out unguarded, as the lyrics flowed through his mind. Richard Cory went home last night and put a bullet through his head... "Tell me that was a coincidence." Mom loved Simon and Garfunkel, so he didn't think so.

"It's a bit embarrassing now. I was, I dunno, I guess I was just trying to say what I felt. Somehow."

"But not now."

"Not really."

'Not really' was a long way from 'absolutely not', but he'd take what he could get. "So is it a nice place you're in? Clean?" There was a silence. "Do you have enough money? Can I wire you some?"

"Sam?"

"Yeah?"

Rick's voice sounded small, and lost. "Would you really come get me?"

"Just say the word." He clamped his phone against his shoulder, so he could reach for his bag. It was mostly unpacked, but that so didn't matter. "Five minutes to get gas in the truck and I'll be on the road."

"I don't want you to leave your holiday. They looked nice. Is, um, is your half-brother really gay?"

"Yes. Really." He scooped up the bag, made sure his car charger and tablet were in it, and headed down the stairs. "His boyfriend, or more like, his partner, is great too. You want to talk to them?"

"I dunno."

He paused in the doorway of the living room, then went over to the guys where they still sat. "Would you two say Hi to my brother, Rick?" He emphasized the name with a hard look. "Rick's trying to decide if he wants me to come get him."

Devin gave him a startled look, and Jesse grinned. He handed the phone to Devin, his fingers reluctant to let go of it, even that far. "Hey, Rick," Devin said. "Sam's told us just a little bit about you. We'd love to get to know you better. We're here in Minnesota now, and we live in Philadelphia, if you're ever in that area."

Jesse leaned close to say, "And since we're related through the big blond ape, over there, it would be fun to meet up."

Sam grabbed the phone back, "He's just kidding."

He heard Rick laugh on the other end. "I bet."

Pressing the phone to his ear until it hurt, he said, "So, it's your call. You don't have to come with me when I get there. I could just take you out to eat, buy you some stuff if you need it."

"You won't make me go home, to Mom and Dad?"

"I absolutely won't make you go home."

"Dad will tell you to."

"He'll have to go through me to get to you. You'll be eighteen before he can possibly manage to do that."

There was a long silence. Devin suddenly jumped up and handed him a pencil and a Yahtzee score pad. He nodded his thanks, and waited. He could hear Rick breathing over the line, fast and unevenly. He waited.

Finally, Rick said, "Yeah. Come get me. Please?"

"I'm on my way. Tell me where." He listened carefully, scribbling down the address. Devin put it in his own phone as he wrote, in some kind of GPS ap. Sam wished he had that. Milwaukee. God, he'd never have looked there. "Why Milwaukee?"

Luckily, Rick didn't take offense, just said, "I was heading to New York. Just didn't make it."

Sam nodded as he stared at the GPS screen, trying to memorize it all. Then Devin pressed the phone into his hand. "Express it back to me if you don't come back here," he said into Sam's other ear. "Go get the kid."

Jesse said, equally softly, "You can bring him back here, you know. Mom and Dad may not be perfect, but they won't turn away a kid who's family, who needs a safe place."

Sam blinked, too many thoughts and feelings running through him to process. He found himself on the front walk, heading for his truck. It was cold, and he realized he'd forgotten his coat. Well, the truck had a heater. And there wasn't much snow yet. Driving should be okay. "Don't hang up kid. Is this your phone?"

"It's my roommate's. He went out and left his computer and phone on the chargers. He said it was cool if I used them. Although he was kind of high..."

"Stick with me, then. Don't hang up. I'll pay him back. A buck a minute, for as long as you're on the phone. Five and a half, maybe six hours to drive." Maybe four, if he hit empty roads this holiday evening. "That's only a few hundred bucks. I've spent ten times that, trying to find you."

"You have?"

"Hell, yeah. You should read your email."

"I forgot the fucking password."

"It's okay." He started the truck, and hesitated, as Gayle came running out of the house with his jacket. He rolled down his window, and she passed it in.

She said softly, "Godspeed. Come back anytime, with anyone."

"Thanks." He smiled thorough the blur, as she stepped back, and then he pulled away.

"For what?" Rick asked over the phone.

"Um, for calling. For letting me help."

"I was doing okay on my own. Really. Well, not okay. I was getting by. But I went online. It was Christmas. I checked Mom and Dad's Facebook and they just wished everyone a happy holiday. And me too, like I was off on a school trip or something. But then I looked at yours..."

"I'm so glad you did." This had to be the longest stoplight in history. He wanted to drive.

"They look like they really, um, like each other."

"Oh, more than like. Devin clearly thinks the sun rises in Jesse's eyes."

"And Jesse?"

"Well, it's not Devin's eyes he watches most."

"Sam! Shit!" But Rick laughed again, more freely.

"Stay with me. We'll find you a hot guy who'll think the sun shines out your ass too." He winced, because this was his little brother. But Rick was a man now, or almost. Time to suck it up and treat him that way. "So, you have a charger for that phone?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, then I want you to stay on the line. Don't hang up. If you have to go to the can, or something, just set it down."

"Controlling, much?"

He went for honesty. "I can't stand the thought of having you hang up, and not knowing what's happening or where you might be. I can't."

"Oh." Rick paused. "All right. I can do that. I'm not talking for five hours straight, though."

"You did when you were nine."

"Screw you."

"You don't have to talk. I'll talk. You just answer sometimes, okay?"

"I guess."

Sam wasn't a big talker, but he could do this. He set the phone in the hands-free, and turned onto the freeway heading east. The gas gauge said a quarter left. He didn't have to stop yet. His fingers were numb on the steering wheel, but the vents were starting to blow warm. "So, I could start by telling you how I found my birth mom, okay? It's a long story."

Rick's voice on the other end was soft. "I guess I have the time."

"It's a holiday. You don't have to go to work or anything?"

"No job."

"Okay, that's good."

"It is?"

"No, it's bad, of course, but today it's good. Today, it's all good. So, I asked Mom when I was eleven, about my adoption..." He leaned on the gas pedal a bit more. Fuck the tickets. He'd just pay them. "Of course she came out with, 'What makes you think you're adopted.' I couldn't believe her. She caved pretty fast, anyway..."

He talked, and kept talking, living for that snort of laughter, or the little comment, that told him his brother was on the other end of the line. Hang in there, bro. I'm on my way.

***

In a darkened room, Rick held the cracked blind away from the window. He'd stood there a long time. Long enough that his feet felt numb from the hard floor, and his fingers were stiff. He'd tried to sit down, even tried to nap a little, listening to Sam's voice, always wondering if his roommate would suddenly walk in and demand the phone, the space, anything else Rick might have to offer. His tension had repeatedly driven him back to his feet, standing in the chill coming off this single, meager pane of glass, waiting.

On the table beside him, the phone, tethered to its charger, crackled loudly and then Sam's voice said, "I'm close. Pulling into your street any minute now. You're still there?"

Rick murmured, "Still here."

There was a moment of unintelligible rustles and a beep. Then, on the street outside, a big pickup with bright halogen lights edged its way to the curb. It parked between a rusted grey Lincoln and the Jeep that hadn't moved since Rick had been in this place.

"Nice wheels, bro," he said to the phone. "Better not leave them out there long."

"Only as long as it takes to get you to come with me. However long that is, though, I'm up for it. Fuck the wheels, if need be." Sam's voice was rough and hoarse.

Rick watched through the window, as his big brother got out and strode purposefully toward the front steps, cell phone pressed to his ear. He let the blind fall back into place, and finally, finally clicked off his phone. "I doubt it'll take long," he told the empty, dirty room. At his feet, everything he owned sat in a backpack, waiting, ready to go home. Less than a minute ticked by, before his home knocked on the door, eight feet away, and coming for him at last.

***

Everyone else had gone to bed, but Devin was still cuddled up with Jesse on the couch. He stared at the lights on the tree, and pulled Jesse closer against his side. Jesse gave a little snort, a sound so contented and unguarded that Devin had to laugh, joy washing through him. "I love you."

"Yeah, you do." Jesse kissed his jaw. "It's my best present, always."

"I have one more for you." Not that Devin wanted to move enough to get it out.

"Yeah?"

He sighed and leaned his cheek on Jesse's hair, and for a while they were silent.

"Where do you think Sam is by now?" Jesse asked.

He checked his watch, peering past Jesse's shoulder. "Pretty close to Milwaukee, I'd guess. Especially the way a guy who's used to tanks would drive. Might already be there."

"Huh. Yeah, no doubt. And he has that big-assed truck. I hope Clint waited for him."

"If not, I'm guessing Sam will track him down all right."

"It would suck to be alone and broke like that at Christmas."

Devin thought about his childhood, about small apartments and rental rooms, pressing his forehead to windows and peering out at the lights other people had strung across the way. His dad had tried, but depression had always caught him at the holidays, and he'd been doing well to bring home a store-made apple pie and remember to wrap Devin's present. And now he was lost in the fog, and Devin had this.

At least he'd never been out on the street, or truly alone. "Sam will find him and get him back here."

Jesse rubbed his nose against Devin's neck. "You promised me another present."

"Oh. You want it?" He was stalling, suddenly unsure.

"Um, it's a gift, for me, right? Was that some kind of trick question?"

"Not really." He let go of Jesse enough to reach into his pocket and pull out the box.

"Oh." Jesse looked at the little box in his hand, and then raised his eyes to Devin's.

"You don't have to open it. You can pretend you never saw it. For now, or forever, if you want. I know we said we wouldn't do the het thing, just because..."

Jesse silenced him with two fingers pressed to Devin's lips. Devin kissed them, and Jesse smiled faintly.

"So." Jesse flipped the top of the box. The rings sat there, silver against the dark blue silk.

"I thought maybe. Because the feds recognize it now and it's legal here in Minnesota, and... and the next time your Mom drags home a new relative, I want to be your husband, with my ring on your finger." He hadn't realized how much, until he'd been window shopping while Jesse sat through Christmas Eve with the new brother. He'd seen these, and bought them minutes before the store closed, unsure if he would ask Jesse, but suddenly certain he wanted to.

Jesse touched the smooth curve of one ring with his fingertip. "Would you want a wedding?"

"Not really. Although, you know, I bet your mom would like it."

Jesse smiled with a hint of satisfaction. "I bet she'd blow a gasket, between loving a wedding and not quite liking the gay."

"She might be more on board than you think." Devin bent down to get the bottle and glasses out from under the edge of the couch. He set the glasses on the coffee table and handed the bottle to Jesse.

"Wow. This is the good stuff. You came prepared."

"Actually, I didn't. You can thank your Mom for that. I told her what I was planning this morning, and she said we should have champagne to celebrate. But all the liquor stores were closed. So she called around to all her friends and found someone with a good bottle set aside for New Year's. She promised to replace it for them, and even went and got it for us."

"She did?"

"Yeah. I think you can downgrade those thighs of clay."

"Maybe." Jesse set the ring box down and busied himself taking off the foil and untwisting the wire of the cork. Devin watched his fingers move deftly, thinking about how addicted he was to every part of Jesse, but in particular how much he loved those hands. Jesse poured two glasses, and they lifted them.

Devin said, "To us. And to all kinds of family, the ones you're born with and the ones you create."

"To us." Jesse's eyes shone. "And to having no relatives with worse than ankles of clay."

"And to you."

"And to me." Jesse snorted a little laugh. "Okay, and to you."

"I'll drink to all that." They clinked rims and sipped. The bubbles tickled Devin's nose and made his eyes tear up a little. Damned champagne. He took another big sip.

Jesse set his glass down, and took Devin's out of his hand to put aside. "C'mere, you."

They kissed, long and sweet. Devin tasted the bubbles of pleasure and joy on their tongues. As they parted to take a breath, he saw the lights of the tree reflected in a pair of blue, blue eyes. He pulled Jesse closer again slowly, mouths coming together, and watched as his own face eclipsed Christmas in his lover's eyes.

####

Other Books by Kaje Harper

Stand-alone free novels:

Into Deep Waters

Nor Iron Bars a Cage

Lies and Consequences

Stand-alone free short stories:

Like the Taste of Summer

Show Me Yours

Within Reach

Published books:

Life Lessons

Breaking Cover

Home Work

Learning Curve

Unacceptable Risk

Unexpected Demands

The Rebuilding Year

Sole Support

Full Circle

Where the Heart Is

Ghosts and Flames

Possibilities

Gift of the Goddess (stand-alone, and also in the anthology Carved in Flesh)

Tumbling Dreams (in the anthology Going For Gold)

Free series stories:

And To All a Good Night (Life Lessons 1.5)

Getting It Right (Life Lessons 1.8)

Compensations (Life Lessons 3.5)

Unsettled Interlude (Hidden Wolves 1.15)

Unwanted Appeal (Hidden Wolves 2.5)

Can't Hurt to Believe (Into Deep Waters 1.005)

Author Bio

Kaje Harper grew up in Montreal, and spent her teen years writing, filling binders with stories about what guys like Starsky and Hutch really did on their days off. But as life got busy, the stories began to just live in her head. The characters grew up, met, endured, loved, in any quiet moment she had. But the stories rarely made it to paper. Serious authorship got further sidetracked by ventures into psychology, teaching, and a biomedical career. And by a decade enthralled by the challenges of raising children.

Then around 2006, when the kids were more independent, her husband gave her a computer she didn't have to share. She started putting words down in print again, just for fun. Hours of fun. Lots of hours of fun. The stories began piling up, and her husband suggested if she was going to spend that much time on the keyboard she ought to try to publish one. MLR Press accepted her first submission, Life Lessons, which was released in May 2011. Kaje now has several novels and short stories published, including Amazon bestseller The Rebuilding Year, and a selection of free short stories and novels as well. She currently lives in Minnesota with a creative teenager, a crazy little omnivorous white dog, and a remarkably patient spouse.

Website: http://kajeharper.wordpress.com/

Goodreads author page:  http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4769304.Kaje_Harper

