Blackbird Knitting in a Bunny's Lair E-Book

Amy Lane

• Herausgeber: Dreamspinner Press
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 389

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2014

Beschreibung

Sequel to Knitter in His Natural Habitat A Granby Knitting Novel After three years of waiting for "rabbit" Jeremy to commit to a life in Granby—and a life together—Aiden Rhodes was appalled when Jeremy sustained a nearly fatal beating to keep a friend out of harm's way. How could Aiden's bunny put himself in danger like that? Aiden needs to get over himself, because Jeremy has a long road to recovery, and he's going to need Aiden's promise of love every step of the way. Jeremy has new scars on his face and body to deal with, and his heart can't afford any more wounds. When their friend's baby needs some special care, the two men find common ground to firm up their shaky union. With Aiden's support and his boss's inspiration, Jeremy comes up with a plan to make sure Ariadne's little blackbird comes into this world with everything she needs. While Jeremy grows into his new role as protector, Aiden needs to ease back on his protectiveness over his once-timid lover. Aiden may be a wolf in student's clothing and Jeremy may be a rabbit of a man, but that doesn't mean they can't walk the wilds of Granby together.

Leseprobe

Readers Love Amy Lane’s

Behind the Curtain

“This is a romance, the kind that soothes you from inside out and makes you believe again, makes you want again. A story that breaks through every crump of bitterness leaving the sweetest of feelings in its wake. This is a story you want to read anyway, just because it’s so freaking great.”

—MM Good Book Reviews

“Behind the Curtain is an extraordinary story of love and friendship. I highly recommend this book, it is one I will be reading again and again.”

—Top 2 Bottom Reviews

“Amy Lane is an extraordinary and amazing Master Storyteller. I highly recommend this one to all readers of M/M romance, and if you are already familiar with this author’s work, don’t hesitate for a second. Get it now!”

—Hearts on Fire

“Just such a lovely mix of humor and poignancy, pain and love, sadness and warmth. Lane is just a master at putting it all together, and this story is a great example of her wonderful writing. So I just loved Behind the Curtain and highly recommend it.”

—Joyfully Jay

“‘Amy Lane, Angst and Pain,’ Amy Lane, Characters Reign. I recommend you put this book center stage on your TBR list.”

—The Novel Approach

“Amy can rock the socks off a blank piece of paper. The rhythm of the words, the flow of the story, her style is just brilliant. I fell as hard for the author as I fell for the characters.”

—Sinfully Sexy Books

Reviews for Behind the Curtain (cont.)

“There is a perfect mix of humor and tenderness. This book is so well written, that even though I have never been involved in theater or dance, I could visualize what they were doing and empathize with what the characters were going through.”

—Live Your Life, Buy the Book

“I loved how the characters grew up in front of my eyes in this story. I hope they get a huge house with a pond full of ducks. And I hope they get to scare the ducks every day. Warmly recommended story.”

—My Fiction Nook

“Amy’s books are like a Pandora box that when you open it, there will always remain hope for an excellent ending. And it is my personal belief that when an author knows how to provide a perfect closure to a story that satisfies them as well as their readers, then the author has got what it takes to touch the sky!”

—The Blog of Sid

“Along with this beautiful story of Dawson and Jared, Amy Lane gave me these fantastic secondary characters, people whom I wanted to hang out with just as much as I did the main characters. Read the book. Get to know them all on your own. I did. And, I loved every minute of the ride.”

—Rainbow Book Reviews

“A full-on love story, which also has the perfect amount of drama and angst… It is fabulously funny and witty, incredibly touching, heart-breaking at times… but it will leave you with a happy heart, and undoubtedly in love with all of the players.”

—Mrs. Condit & Friends Read Books

By AMY LANE

NOVELS

Behind the Curtain

Blackbird Knitting in a Bunny’s Lair

Bolt Hole

Clear Water

Gambling Men: The Novel

The Locker Room

Mourning Heaven

Racing for the Sun

Shiny!

Sidecar

A Solid Core of Alpha

Under the Rushes

THE KEEPING PROMISE ROCK SERIES

Keeping Promise Rock • Making Promises • Living Promises • Forever Promised

THE JOHNNIESSERIES

Chase in Shadow • Dex in Blue • Ethan in Gold

ANTHOLOGIES

The Granby Knitting Menagerie

The Talker Collection

Three Fates

Published by DREAMSPINNER PRESS

http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com

By AMY LANE

NOVELLAS

Bewitched by Bella’s Brother

Christmas with Danny Fit

Going Up!

Hammer and Air

If I Must

It’s Not Shakespeare

Left on St. Truth-be-Well

Puppy, Car, and Snow

Super Sock Man

Truth in the Dark

Turkey in the Snow

THE KNITTING SERIES

The Winter Courtship Rituals of Fur-Bearing Critters

How to Raise an Honest Rabbit • Knitter in His Natural Habitat

GREEN’S HILL

Guarding the Vampire’s Ghost • I love you, asshole! • Litha’s Constant Whim

TALKER SERIES

Talker • Talker’s Redemption • Talker’s Graduation

Published by DREAMSPINNER PRESS

http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com

Copyright

Published by

Dreamspinner Press

5032 Capital Circle SWSuite 2, PMB# 279Tallahassee, FL 32305-7886

USA

http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of author imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Blackbird Knitting in a Bunny’s Lair

© 2014 Amy Lane.

Cover Art

© 2014 Catt Ford.

Cover content is for illustrative purposes only and

any person depicted on the cover is a model.

All rights reserved. This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of international copyright law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines, and/or imprisonment. Any eBook format cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact Dreamspinner Press, 5032 Capital Circle SW, Suite 2, PMB# 279, Tallahassee, FL 32305-7886, USA, or http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/.

ISBN: 978-1-62798-873-5

Digital ISBN: 978-1-62798-874-2

Printed in the United States of America

First Edition

May 2014

Dedication

To Mary and Mate—but also to Roxy, TA Chase, Laura Adriana, and Grammy. Jeremy Bunny was such an unlikely hero—he needed some good friends to help him thrive.

Prologue

JEREMYKNEW two things in the moment before he almost died.

The first was that he’d had this coming.

Five years ago, when he was still on the grift in Las Vegas, he and Gianni Cabrisi shared a moment—a kiss, a blowjob, eye contact, each knowing exactly who the other was, and that it was all okay. The next day, on the weight of that moment alone, Gianni lied to his crazy mob boss about knowing where Jeremy was when Jeremy was huddled in a theater curtain not five yards away, wetting himself with fear after hearing his father die. That sort of dedication on the basis of a kiss needed to be repaid. So sure,Jeremy had left that moment determined to go straight—and for the past three years, he’d been working like an honest man and doing just that—but he’d known that wasn’t all. He’d known he had to put paid to all the wrong he’d done as a con man. He’d known he had lots to pay for.

And now he was paying for it.

Gianni had gone straight too, had become Johnny—and now Johnny’s boyfriend cowered, terrified and innocent, in the little room in the barn where Jeremy was about to meet his maker. Stanley Schulz was a little guy, a yarn store designer who’d only wanted to settle down, and Johnny thought Stanley was his reward for going straight himself. Jeremy thought Stanley was Johnny’s reward for hiding his punk con-man’s ass back in Vegas, so Jeremy was going to hide Stanley with that much dedication.

It wasn’t hard, really—Mikey Carelli, the mobster who was currently breaking Jeremy’s teeth and most of the bones in his body, was too fucking crazy to listen, even if Jeremy had broken to spill the beans.

But Jeremy wouldn’t break. He had this coming. He’d had three good years working with good people, honest people, and falling in love with Aiden, and he owed for that. He’d pay up with a smile, because he’d had Aiden, and the one thing he knew was that this pain was all worth it.

The other thing he knew was that Aiden would never forgive him. Aiden, Jeremy’s beautiful, golden boy, the boy who had grown up while Jeremy watched, and then walked right up and claimed Jeremy as his own. Aiden had been the north on Jeremy’s compass from pretty much the minute Jeremy set foot in Granby, and had, in fact, been the one person responsible for Jeremy staying. Not that Jeremy had dreamed in a million years that Aiden would love him back—Jeremy was just happy that he’d gotten to work with Aiden in the fiber mill for the past three years. Honest work with the boy he loved—in a million years, he hadn’t dreamed that would be his lot, even for a little while. But Aiden had claimed him, which had been amazing, and they had become lovers, which still blew his mind, and now Jeremy was about to do the unforgivable.

He was about to leave.

He gazed up into the eyes of Mikey the mobster and saw nothing. His internal vision was already focused on Aiden and how upset he’d be that Jeremy had left after all.

The shotgun blast that ended Michael Carelli’s life shattered Jeremy’s good-bye right then, and Jeremy didn’t have to leave Aiden after all.

At the beginning, though, it seemed like it might have been easier if he had.

Shattered Bones and Broken Strength

JEREMY STILLSONspent more time in the hospital after he stopped living a life of crime than he had before he’d quit. Given that his second hospital stay ever lasted over two months, he could safely say he was over the experience by the time he left for home.

If Craw hadn’t thrown a fit and begged and pleaded so that Jeremy could share a room with Ariadne, he never would have made it.

HISFIRSTweek was hazy, just a confused mess of pain and voices and Aiden—Aiden—holding his hand a lot, his voice choked and messy. Jeremy had a lot of surgeries in those first days, which was a blessing, because he didn’t really have to make any decisions. Aiden and Craw made all of those decisions for him.

Sometime toward the end of the first week, he woke up abruptly, breaking out of a bleary dream of being locked in a box of pain.

“Boy! Boy! Aiden!” he called, because his one constant in the past three years had been his boy. At first his boy had been sarcastic and frustrated because Jeremy couldn’t seem to learn the ways of living an honest life, but that had changed, hadn’t it? Aiden had gone from frustrated to friendly, and then, in these past months, from friendly to more than friendly.

Why wasn’t Aiden next to him?

“Boy?” he asked the cold and alien darkness. Some of his teeth were missing, his mouth hurt like the blazes, and it was hard to talk. “If you’re gone for water, I could use some.” Because his mouth was dry and his entire body… it felt achy and creaky and everything, everything hurt, but that dry mouth, that was the thing that was making him craziest.

“Jeremy—”

“Boy?” It was a woman’s voice, and Jeremy couldn’t figure out why a woman would be in his bedroom, his sweet little bedroom in his and Aiden’s tiny apartment. Jeremy loved that little apartment; it was safe, like a den or a warren, and you could fight the urge to run when you were safe.

“Honey, it’s me, Ariadne. We’re in the hospital, remember?”

Oh. Ariadne. Craw’s assistant and best friend. Spider-thin woman who liked to dye her hair bright red and who could knit lovely things like lace while yelling at “her boys” not to track sheep shit all over the store.

What was she doing here?

Oh yeah.

“Hey, Ariadne,” he said, feeling loopy. “How’s the baby coming?”

“Hanging in there,” she said weakly. She had pregnancy diabetes as well as high blood pressure. She was one of the most active people he knew, and she’d been on bed rest since Thanksgiving, which was….

When was Thanksgiving?

“Ariadne?”

“Yeah, hon?”

“What day is it?”

“December 20. You’ve been here around five days.”

Jeremy whimpered. “I don’t like hospitals,” he said nakedly, and he heard a noise. He tried to move his head, but his face was swathed in bandages and his body just hurt so bad.In a moment there was a rustling, and the sound of something being dragged, and then something else.

In another moment there was a softness near his cheek and the smell of the special soap Ariadne liked to buy from a crafter in Grand.

And then there was a pressure on his blessedly undamaged hand.

“I’m right here,” she said, and he moved his eyes just enough to see her wan and pale face in the light creeping in from the hallway.

“I don’t mean to be a bother,” he said, keeping his voice low in the hospital echo. The words were almost a cruel repeat of his first months spent at Craw’s farm and yarn mill, when he’d had one foot out the door and all of his earthly possessions packed and ready to bolt. The words “I don’t mean to be a bother,” had been code then, for “Don’t get attached to me, I’m not staying.”

“Well, it’s nice to have company,” Ariadne said quietly. “Keeps me from worrying so much about my little one here.”

Jeremy felt weak tears sliding down the sides of his face. “You shouldn’t have to worry,” he said sincerely. “You of all people should have a healthy, happy baby. You’re gonna stick around for it. That’s important.”

“I’ll be here for you too, okay, Jeremy?”

Jeremy nodded and tried not to be afraid. Bad things came out of the dark—fists and gunshots and the butt ends of pistols. Sharp needles and scalpels and that horrible, nauseating, free-floating feeling of anesthetic.

“I appreciate it,” he said, feeling dumb and helpless. “Just until my boy gets here.”

Oh no. He’d just called Aiden “his boy” when Ariadne and Craw weren’t entirely comfortable with the two of them yet. “Don’t tell Craw,” he mumbled. “But I really love that boy.”

“Craw’s fine with it,” Ariadne soothed, rubbing the back of his hand. “Craw and Aiden saved your life.”

“Yeah,” Jeremy said, remembering that terrifying moment when he’d heard the gunshot and thought it was the one that killed him. And then Aiden sobbing over him, yelling at him for going to defend their friend alone. “He cried for me. My boy shouldn’t ever cry for me.”

“We all cried, Jer,” Ariadne murmured into the darkness. “You’re going to have to take better care of yourself now that you’re meaning to stay.”

“Yeah, okay.” Jeremy was tired now, and the fact that he could smell his friend, feel her touch on his hand, that meant the world. “You… you’re not leaving anywhere tonight, are you?”

“No, baby. Right here.”

“Well, as long as you’re comfortable,” Jeremy said, and then he fell asleep.

SOMETHINGHAPPENED. Something bad. Another surgery, maybe? Pain, confusion, more anesthesia—God, that shit made his stomach feel just raunchy. But it was over, and he was back in the bed, and he knew Ariadne was with him in the same room. He thought numbly that someone must have brought her bed over to his, because when he tried to turn and then stopped because it felt like a steel spike was lodged through his stomach, she was close enough to touch his shoulder as she soothed him.

“Aiden, hon, he’s awake. He was asking for you.”

“Jer?”

“Boy.” The sound was a drawn-out syllable of relief. “Boy, you’re here.”

Jeremy felt a hot presence next to his shoulder, rough with razor stubble and tearful breath.

“Jeremy,” Aiden breathed.

Jeremy smiled a little. “Got used to you,” he mumbled. “You and me, we lived together. I loved that. It’s hard when you’re gone.”

“We still live together,” Aiden said, and the words relaxed Jeremy’s shoulders, helped the pain flow over him and drip away, just like the bag of fluid attached to his arm.

“We do? I don’t live here?”

“No, Jer. I moved into your apartment, remember? Except we’re gonna move.”

“Why do you have to move?” No! Oh no. Aiden couldn’t move out—not when Jeremy was thinking about starting a bank account and taking everything out of the safe. Including the mittens.

“Not me, Jeremy, us. You and me are going to move out. Ben is letting us buy his house now that he’s in with Craw.”

“Craw’s mad,” Jeremy said disconsolately.

The week after Thanksgiving, Aiden had told their boss at the fiber mill that they were together. Jeremy had been in the barn, feeding the animals and making sure everybody’s heater worked, and Aiden had come up behind him, wrapping those great brawny arms around Jeremy’s waist and kissing softly at the nape of his neck.

“Bad?” Jeremy asked. He’d heard the voices from outside the barn and the slam of the door as Craw stomped inside the house. Aiden had promised him—promised—his voice soft and insistent, that Jeremy would not be put on the spot because their three-year friendship had finally matured.

“He’s a stubborn bastard,” Aiden said into his ear. “Nothing new. He still thinks I’m his little brother.”

Jeremy’s shoulders drooped. “You were my little brother,” he said softly, stroking the rabbit in front of him. “Maybe I should just—”

Aiden’s arms tightened. “If you say it, Jer, you’ll break my heart.”

Jeremy closed his eyes then. “Anything,” he muttered. “Anything but that, boy. You understand? Not breaking your heart—that’s like my number-one priority.”

Aiden’s warmth at his back comforted him like a bale of straw, throwing his own body heat back at him with interest. Behind his closed eyes, Craw’s anger, the displeasure of the first man who had ever known him and shown kindness, dissipated, and there was only Aiden.

Aiden hadn’t been kind, not at first, but when the boy had grown, he’d become even better than kind. He’d become a gruff bastion of safety. Nothing would ever hurt Jeremy while Aiden stood guard. Jeremy trusted that.

But that didn’t change what happened next.

“SH,” AIDENwhispered now.

Jeremy must have lost time.

“Craw’s not mad?” Jeremy muttered. He heard Craw being mad. He was outside the hospital room somewhere.

“Oh, he’s mad, all right.” Ariadne’s dry voice soothed like a balm. “But not at you. Honey, Craw couldn’t stay mad at you. Certainly not after what you did.”

“What’d I do again?” That was what he thought,anyway. All his words were what he thought. But what they sounded like was worse, like he was talking through marbles.

“You… dammit, Jer, you—”

“Don’t be mad!” Jeremy couldn’t stand it if Aiden, his safety, his wolf, suddenly turned all his fierceness on Jeremy.

And then, to his horror, something worse happened.

He heard the noise first, the rasping of voice in Aiden’s throat, the choked sound of breath that wasn’t cut free soon enough. He moved his head slowly to his left and Aiden’s face had blotched deep purple, and his chin was folded like fabric.

“Boy,” he said helplessly, and Aiden shook his head and buried his face next to Jeremy’s on the pillow.

His shoulders shook like mountains as the earth crumbled beneath them. Jeremy reached up with the arm he knew had not been broken, and scrunched his hand in that dark-gold hair.

“I’m sorry,” Aiden sobbed. “I’m sorry, Jeremy, but I’m so damned mad.”

Jeremy moaned in his throat. “But I didn’t talk,” he protested, feeling weak. “I didn’t let them get Stanley!” The little yarn seller Gianni had fallen in love with. Jeremy owed Gianni—dammit, Johnny—and Stanley was his lover. Jeremy had done Gi—Johnny a solid, that was all.

“I didn’t talk,” he mumbled again, hoping to reassure, hoping to make Aiden feel better. “You can’t be mad if I didn’t talk.”

“Oh Jeremy,” Aiden groaned, looking up from the pillow, so close Jeremy could count the sleepless crimson branches in his eyes. “Why didn’t you run? Three years, you had one foot out the door. The mob comes, all set to kill you, and you couldn’t rabbit away?”

Jeremy ran his tongue around his mouth, trying to find where his teeth were and where they weren’t, so he could talk better. “You deserve better than a man who’d run,” he said, hoping that wasn’t too garbled.

Aiden’s face crumpled again, folded, and he shook his head. “I deserve you,” he mumbled. “I’ve wanted you for so long—and now, I’m so worried.”

“Don’t be worried,” Jeremy told him, thinking his voice sounded more like his voice now that he’d gotten his teeth figured out. “I’m not the guy who’d run.”

There was more to it than that, he thought as his eyes closed. His face hurt—he thought he might have bandages on it, because in front of his eyes were layers of things that infringed upon his vision. His pretty, pretty face, the thing his daddy had always said was his moneymaker, and now it was damaged, probably beyond repair.

“You’d better not run,” Aiden choked next to him. “You’d better not run. We’re subletting that house, Jeremy. We’re putting your name on a paper. We’re opening a bank account, and you’re meeting my parents.”

Jeremy woke up enough for that. “Not when I’m not pretty,” he complained.

Aiden’s voice grew flinty, like it used to do when Jeremy tried to shirk his chores. “Fuck pretty,” he snarled. “Fuck pretty, fuck it to hell. You’re mine, and I love you, and we don’t care about pretty. You understand?”

“Yeah, fine,” Jeremy sulked. “You be pretty for both of us. I’m already too old for you. Now I’m not pretty anymore. That’s fine.”

At that point something in his body gave a big fat throb, and his head clanged timpani with it, and he moaned from pain, because just that suddenly, it was drowning out all the other voices.

“Here, Jeremy,” Ariadne said, fumbling with the little red button near his hand. “Don’t mind him. He’s worried, and he feels bad ’bout not being there.”

“Don’t let him do that,” Jeremy mumbled. “My bad. So many things in life I had to make right. Don’t you see that, boy?”

But the morphine was potent and quick, and Jeremy’s mind and body were soon sliding around consciousness in the liquidy viscousness of pain and drugs and the firm belief that he’d had this coming all along.

JEREMYDIDN’Teven know his real last name. He thought it might have been the one his father had died with, but even that was sort of a crapshoot. Oscar had been telling lies a lot longer than Jeremy had—even his “original” name might have been a lie.

As far as he knew, Jeremy had come into the world conning people. He was reasonably sure his parents had grifted their way out of the hospital bill when he was born. His mother was a hazy memory of bangly earrings and the smell of scotch, and his father had been more impressed with Jeremy’s benefits as a partner in crime than as a son.

Jeremy had hurt a lot of people before he’d just up and decided to be honest. He’d cheated women and children, hardworking men, college students alone in the world. And as hard as he’d worked at Craw’s fiber mill, as much effort as he’d put into being an honest man, he’d always felt like it wasn’t enough.

Nothing would ever be enough to make up for the man he’d been before Craw had found him, an ex-convict panhandling on the streets of Colorado.

Nothing would ever be enough to earn the love of the beautiful boy he’d been smitten with from the very beginning, when it probably wasn’t right that Jeremy had even noticed his beauty at all.

So when Aiden had invaded his space, invaded his home, made Jeremy notice the three years of friendship and attraction between them, Jeremy had accepted it, because he had no choice. Aiden was his boy—as long as Jeremy could stand not to run, he was helpless to do anything but to fall into his orbit.

It had been a tenuous gravitational shift, at first. Jeremy had always circled around Aiden; from the first moment he’d seen the boy working in Craw’s mill, Jeremy had wanted to be nearer to him. But Jeremy was older, and dumber, and he was sure his soul had shriveled, a withered flower with roots in an oil spill, twisted almost since birth.

He was a bad man. Bad men did not deserve to orbit near the bright and shining sun that was his boy. It wasn’t until Aiden proved he had interesting shadows, dark spots in the sun, was a wolf and not a lapdog, that Jeremy even dared to dream.

They’d had a month, almost two, during which Aiden spent most nights in Jeremy’s little apartment. The past few weeks, he’d been there full-time, all of his clothes in boxes, new towels from his mother in the bathroom, his favorite cereal in the cupboards. Just a breath, just a taste of having Aiden there in his home, as his home, and then….

Well, Jeremy had debts to pay. When one of them called him up in a panic, Jeremy had to pony up.

JEREMYWOKEup the next day actually feeling like a person. How did that happen? One minute you were free floating, a specter in a hospital bed, hearing people talk about you, drifting to escape the pain, and the next time you opened your eyes, it was you, in your body, anchored to the sheets by stuff that your body did.

“Aiden?” he murmured. Aitbhen. That was what it sounded like. “Jebuth thfuckin’ krith—when bo I ge’ my fhfuckin’ teef?”

Craw had a deep, growly bear voice, and his unmistakable laughter echoed over Jeremy’s head. “Today, actually,” he said. “You get fitted for them, anyway. You didn’t have any dental records, Jeremy. We had to wait until the swelling in your jaw went down to make a model.”

Jeremy remembered that. In fact, he realized that some of the difficulty he’d had talking actually had to do with his jaw still being wired shut.

“Whab bay ith ib?” Oh man, the more conscious he was, the worse he sounded. He felt like he could finally hear what he was actually saying instead of what he thought he was saying.

“You’ve been here for a week,” Craw said. “We’re going to take some plasters for your teeth and unwire your jaw. They’ll be changing the bandages on your face today and seeing if you need cosmetic surgery.”

“Aiden?” He had to work hard, but it sounded right.

“I made him go home today, Jer. He was dead on his feet.”

Jeremy closed his eyes in relief. “Good. He won’ thee me.”

Craw made a hurt sound. “Don’t worry about Aiden seeing you, okay? He’s always seen you.”

“When I wath preddy.”

Craw growled. “All the crap I gave that boy about you two being together and you’re telling me you’re going to take it back because of a little blood?”

Jeremy had been beaten, talking the whole time, so that guy beating him wouldn’t find Stanley. Suddenly meeting Craw’s eyes was not quite as hard as he’d thought it would be, that not-so-long-ago day when he’d listened to Craw and Aiden argue.

“We bode know ith more.”

And Craw, who didn’t know how to bullshit, shifted his green-brown eyes away. “Have faith,” he said gruffly. “Ben found me, Stanley found Johnny, Aiden found you. Have faith.”

If Jeremy could have talked more, he would have spun sunshine and rabbit crap about how sure, a man had to have faith, and maybe, under a sunny sky, he’d have enough faith for them all. He would have said that faith is a wonderful thing, but it was better to have faith when you had a plan of escape, and that once you had a way out, you could have all the faith you wanted.

But it was all a big, fat, painful, throbbing lie. Aiden would never forgive him for not calling for help, and Jeremy had no hope that he ever could. Jeremy could lie like a champion with his words, but his eyes—well, as a con man he’d had to squint a lot, because his eyes had been touch and go. He’d had to believe his bullshit to lie with his eyes.

And now he couldn’t use his words, and his eyes were all he had. He looked at Craw mutely, no con between them, just the painful, painful truth.

Craw nodded, and for a moment his lower lip trembled. “I’ll have faith,” he whispered. “That boy has always known his own mind and been strong about getting his way. He wanted you, I guess, and I admit, when I saw that it was real and not just you two bickering like you were married, I had second thoughts. But….” Oh no. Craw’s voice was wobbling. “Jeremy, we’ve been worried. They say you’ll probably be okay, but the lot of us, we’ve been worried. You’re our family, boy.” He swallowed. “I’ll have faith for the two of you.”

Jeremy closed his eyes then, tight, because they were burning. “’Kay,” he mumbled through a mouth full of missing teeth. “I’ll bind tum ob my own.”

“Good man,” Craw told him. Then the doctor came in, and unpleasant things happened with his mouth and dental tools, and in his head he was in Craw’s field with a piece of clover in his mouth, sitting on a rock in the sunshine, warm under the golden sky, teased by the breeze, watching Aiden herd the sheep.

TWODAYSlater his bandages came off again. The whole world crowded into Jeremy and Ariadne’s room, and they all, Aiden included, took a deep, fortifying breath when the last bandage came off. Jeremy didn’t need to look in a mirror. He would have turned away, but they’d propped his neck so he couldn’t rub his cheek on the sheets. Aiden held his hand the whole time, though, as the doctor probed and prodded, pulled at skin, removed some stitches, made some others.

Jeremy closed his eyes and answered questions with one syllable until finally Aiden squeezed his hand hard enough to make him gasp.

“Don’t be an asshole, Jer. The guy just asked you if you wanted cosmetic surgery, and you said no.”

“Money.” Now that was a word he could say, even if his teeth hadn’t gotten there yet. “Da dafe only had do much.”

“Fuck money,” Aiden snarled, and Craw, standing right behind him, said the same thing at the same time.

“Tereo,” Jeremy said, and he made sure his lips quirked enough for a smile.

“I’m serious,” Aiden growled. “And forget about the fucking safe. We’re not bringing the fucking safe to our new home. The safe means you can pick up and leave, and I’m not having it.”

“I like de dafe. ’Th modprood.”

Aiden’s green eyes bulged. “Mothproof my ass. You just want to be able to pick up that thing and run. No.” Aiden shifted his gaze to above Jeremy—Jeremy had almost forgotten the doctor. “He wants the cosmetic surgery.”

“We’ll find a way to pay,” Craw said, but his voice sounded stretched thin. Jeremy knew enough about small businesses to know that this would be a doozy of a blow.

“No,” he mumbled, not wanting to pay them back this way.

“Shut up,” Aiden said, and he wasn’t growling anymore. In fact, he sounded about growled out.

“Check my dafe.”

“I will throw the safe off a fucking mountain and into a river,” Aiden said, sounding stubborn.

“Dake de midden’ ou’!” All the mittens, gloves, cuffs, and fingerless mitts Aiden had knitted him over three years of friendship. Jeremy didn’t have much money—the mittens were the whole reason for the damned safe.

“I will not!” Aiden snapped. “I’ll throw them all away and the cash too, and you will have to stay and wait for me to knit them all again. And by that time, you’ll have come to your senses.”

The thought of all that beautiful knitting sinking to the bottom of the Colorado River made Jeremy’s eyes more than burn—they spilled over. “Craw! Don’ ’ed him!”

“Then stop talking bullshit,” Craw snapped.

Jeremy glared at both of them. “Abbholed,” he said, feeling the word deep in his stomach, and he was not surprised when Aiden smiled, predatory and proud.

“I made your life miserable for years, Jeremy. No reason to change that now. Now you don’t worry about the money—you go ahead and tell that nice man yes, you’ll take another surgery, thank you.”

Jeremy looked at the doctor and rolled his eyes, and the doc made a notation in his chart. Then the doc looked meaningfully at Craw, and Jeremy knew that the money was something to worry about, but that he was helpless and flat on his back and there wasn’t a damned thing he could do.

He closed his eyes then and remembered his little apartment, sleeping in sweats because the heater wasn’t fantastic, but having Aiden’s young heat at his back like a furnace. Aiden, warm and protective—had Jeremy ever felt that safe? In his whole life?

Aiden’s hand engulfed his, squeezed, and Jeremy grunted and squeezed back. He had nowhere to go but in his head, and Aiden was there too.

He must have dozed because when he woke up, his bandages were back on and Aiden and Craw were gone. Ariadne was right next to him, on her side, looking at him anxiously.

He could hear Aiden and Craw, their voices far away down a corridor, yelling. But not, from the sound of things, at each other.

“How you doin’, Mid Ari?” He stopped—Ariadne was a mouthful during the best of times.

Her sober hazel eyes grew shiny too, and he wanted to take back the question.

“Pregnancy diabetes sucks ass,” she said softly, and he was relieved—so relieved—to be able to fixate on someone else’s ills.

“I’m do dorry.” He meant it too. That baby—they had all been worried about that baby.

“They think the baby’s got a cleft palate,” she said softly.

Jeremy, his face under the new bandages, couldn’t even wrinkle his nose. “Bub dill okay,” he said, because he knew what that was. It was when the lip was split after the baby came out. Didn’t stop kids from being cute, he thought. Didn’t stop them from being loved.

“Yeah,” she said, and he heard a certain amount of relief in her voice. “Lots of operations and stuff, and ear tubes, and—”

“Bub dill okay,” he insisted. Oh, damn the words he once threw like dandelions to the wind. Now when he needed them, they were buried under bandages and broken teeth.

And Ariadne was crying. “You get that,” she said, her voice thick. “How come you can get that for my baby, but you can’t get it for you?”

“Baby gon’ be lubbed.” It was one of the few things he knew for sure in life.

“So are you.”

Craw and Aiden’s voices cut off abruptly, and even down the hall, Jeremy could hear the voice of the man whose life he’d saved. There was murmuring then, a voice he didn’t know, and peace.

“Baby gon’ be boodibul,” he murmured, and Ariadne’s hand felt sweet, pulling his hair back from his bandages. Family was exhausting, oh yes they were, but sometimes, when there was no escaping them, they did make a rabbit hutch out of a lump in the straw.

HEDOZEDsome more, and then Stanley came in a few minutes later, smiling tentatively. The little shop manager had visited a couple of times, and Jeremy had mostly been out of it, too wrecked to talk. Today he came with a basket of yarn for Ariadne and something she could eat that was probably nutritious and tasty, because he did like to bake.

Aiden came hard on Stanley’s heels and threw himself on his vacated chair. He glared at Stanley without heat and stroked Jeremy’s good hand while Stanley talked about the sweater he’d made for Johnny and how he would bring in Christmas dinner and how the doctor told them that Jeremy would be getting teeth tomorrow, so he’d have new teeth for Christmas.

Jeremy said “Thank you,” as best he could, and Aiden nodded thanks too.

Stanley shrugged them off. “Oh, now don’t thank me. Apparently Johnny is pulling big strings at WITSEC, which is nice of him.” Stanley had a ruddy face under white-blonde hair, and little hands he waved around when he talked. He put the a in “flame” and “gay.” Jeremy had always wondered how his own bright beacon of gayness had managed to stay so covered for so long. Then he’d met Stanley and realized that Stanley just burned bright enough for all of them. “Johnny’ll take care of you,” Stanley said soberly. “He’s really grateful.”

Jeremy nodded. Well, yeah, Johnny had saved his life once upon a time. Jeremy would concede that he was nice. “Mud lub oo.” God, he wanted his teeth.

Stanley smiled, and his entire volume went from eleven to three. It was refreshing—almost like watching a five-hundred-watt light go from “kill the eyeballs” to “read a book.” “He does,” Stanley said with quiet pride. “Imagine my surprise.”

Aiden squeezed his hand, and Jeremy rolled his eyes.

“Don’t you roll your eyes at me,” Aiden argued. “You keep acting like it’s all going to go away. I told you, we’re moving into Ben’s house, you’re getting rid of the floor safe—”

“Keepin’ de door dade!”

“Bullshit. Getting rid of the floor safe, keeping the mittens, and taking care of Ben’s rabbits—”

“Rabbid?” Oh, rabbits. Skittish critters, but if you gave them time, fed them carrots, loved on them a little—Jeremy could live with some damned rabbits.

“Yeah, rabbits. And a dog. We’re gonna get us a big watchdog, something with a head the size of a football.”

“A woov!”

“A wolf? Yeah, sure. A wolf and a Newfoundland or something—”

“Bigger’n’me!”

“You betcha. That fucker’ll guard the house. Ain’t nothing’ getting past it—”

“Care de rabbid!” That wouldn’t be fair!

“Yeah, well, you stopped being scared by me, the rabbits will learn to live with a dog.”

Jeremy glared at him, abruptly tired. “You’re eg-haud-ig.”

“I’m exhausting? Am I making you tired, Jeremy?” Aiden never let go of Jeremy’s hand, but he did drag his other hand through his dark-blond curls. “I’m making you tired. You are in the hospital. I wake up tired. So you suck it up and let me plan for the damned future, okay?”

Jeremy’s eyes were closing, but dammit, he still wanted a say. “’Maller dog.” He narrowed his eyes mutinously. He didn’t want no bigass dog that was going to scare the bunnies.

“We’ll see,” Aiden conceded with absolutely no grace whatsoever.

“Boy—”

“No. You get better. You get better, you get home, then you’ll have a say in the dog and the rabbits.”

“’Mnod helpledd!” Aw, dammit. He was. He was so damned helpless, and Aiden knew it. Aiden knew it all.

But he didn’t do that to his Jeremy, and Jeremy would always be grateful to his boy. Instead, Aiden took Jeremy’s knuckles to his lips and kissed them. “No, Jer. You’re not. I think you proved that already.”

“Saved my gay ass!” Stanley piped up, and Jeremy met his eyes and realized he was worried. About Jeremy, who was a common laborer as far as Stanley knew. Stanley was right to be grateful,but he didn’t have to be worried.

“Id a goo’ add,” he reassured, and Aiden’s laugh at his side let him know that of all things, that was not what Stanley had been worried about.

“Nice of you to say so,” Stanley said, smiling sweetly, and Jeremy closed his eyes so he’d have enough energy to let his lips quirk up. His ribs ached, and his shoulder, and he was pretty sure there was more slicing and dicing in his future, but right now, his friends and his boyfriend were being really nice to him, and he knew enough about life not to take that for granted.

Of course, it didn’t stop him from falling immediately asleep, either.

Wolf at the Door

AIDEN RHODESpassed his community college classes that semester mostly because his professors knew him, and knew Jeremy, and figured that As were not going to turn into Fs just because Aiden missed the finals.

Aiden couldn’t have given a ripe shit.

Jeremy was in the hospital. Jeremy was in the hospital.

His mother, Susan, wanted him to come back home until Jeremy came home from the hospital. She was waiting in Jeremy’s apartment when Aiden had first gotten back from Boulder, about three days after Jeremy proved he’d lost his rabbit card by forgetting how to run.

“There’s a whole lot of chocolate milk here that’s going to go to waste if someone doesn’t drink it,” she said as he entered the tiny space. Aiden didn’t even startle. She was his mother. She’d known pretty much from the moment Aiden had met Jeremy that her son was not going to marry a nice girl and settle down. All she’d hoped for, really, was that Jeremy would prove to be more dependable than the dumb boy who’d been grabbing Aiden’s ass all through high school, and once Aiden started telling her about the brave, troubled heart in Craw’s new worker, she’d pretty much conceded the inevitable.

The fact that Aiden had scarcely been eighteen when he and Jeremy met hadn’t fazed Aiden or his mother. And sure enough, Jeremy had eventually grown up enough for Aiden to make his move.

“Bring it home to the kids,” Aiden said, thinking his little brothers and sisters would be thrilled. His mom bought them the poor-rent version of Nesquik, and they were always grateful for the stuff that Jeremy bought, which came by the gallon. Besides premium yarn, it was one of the few real luxuries Jeremy had.

“You said he was going to be fine,” his mother said. She did not snuggle into his arms—not because she was a cold woman but because Aiden had been telling her he didn’t need kid stuff since he was eight years old, and she respected his boundaries.

“Yeah,” Aiden said heavily. Without warning, he sagged into one of the kitchen chairs, so tired from the hospital and the questioning and the thing the questioning was for. “They say he’s going to be okay. It’s going to be hard, but—” He jerked his head, trying to stay awake. “He didn’t look okay,” Aiden mumbled, because Jeremy had been swathed in bandages and unconscious. But that wasn’t even what Aiden was thinking about. Suddenly, nakedly, the entire night flashed before his eyes:

Running up the hill to see Jeremy, bloody and half-conscious, kneeling in front of a mobster with a gun.

Aiden couldn’t even remember firing the shot that killed Michael Carelli, psychopathic douche bag, but he must have fired it.

He must have fired it because Jeremy wasn’t dead, and Mikey had been the one holding the gun to Jeremy’s head.

“I killed someone,” he said, right out of the stark blue. He stared through the crocheted valances Ariadne had made for Jeremy right after he’d moved in. They were dusty—they could probably go for some washing and a freshener on the starching. Beyond the valances was the clear blue of the sky and the endless mountain horizon of white. The Rocky Mountains were fairly merciless this time of year—he and Craw would be utilizing the little mail plane to go back and forth from Boulder, because the roads were crap.

And he’d killed someone.

“I know,” his mom said quietly, moving closer into him, dangerously into “little-kid space,” as he used to call it when he’d first exiled her from cuddle time in front of the television.

“I’d kill him again,” Aiden said, keeping his chin hard and his gaze flat, just like he had when he’d gotten into a fight after he’d come out at school. I’m suspended. I hit a kid for calling me a fag. I’d hit him again. His mom had never questioned his judgment in those matters either. Fine, Aiden. Do your sister’s chores tomorrow, since she’ll be rounding everyone up for school. And that had been that—the extent of his punishment. His parents had known, even then, that he only did things he thought of as necessary, and his judgment was usually sound.

“He needed killing, son,” his mom said, her voice as reasonable as his. “Do you think your father wouldn’t have killed a man who held a gun to my head?”

Aiden nodded. “Right,” he said, and suddenly, oh, suddenly, he wanted Jeremy so badly. Jeremy wouldn’t even debate. Jeremy would thank him, and Aiden could be honest. I was scared, Jer. I was scared, and I’d do it again in a heartbeat, but does that mean something’s wrong with me?

And even though he could hear Jeremy’s answer—No, nothing’s wrong with you. You got some dark colors in you, boy. You’re fierce, which is good, ’cause you’re gentle enough to tame a rabbit but fierce enough to keep him safe—Aiden just wanted to hold him, so he’d have tangible proof that the gouge from his soul was going to heal over and that the missing gobbet did not make him less of a person.

“I know he did,” Aiden answered his mom. “I’d do it again. I wish I’d done it sooner.” He closed his eyes against the vision of Jeremy, battered beyond recognition, begging for forgiveness in his arms. “If I’d known what he’d grow up to be, I would have snuck into that man’s cradle and wasted him in cold blood.”