But Lucas didn’t hang around to hear what Jacob wanted. He stumbled to his feet and ran upstairs, confident that Jacob wouldn’t follow him. There was no point.
Chapter Twenty
Jacob screwed his fingers into a tight fist. How did he feel such a shit when he’d only done what they agreed for the last four weeks and then given him a present worth over 20,000 dollars?
But he knew. In his heart he knew. He had done far more than a temporary Daddy should have done. They’d had sex. Amazing unbelievable sex that had been some of the best times of his life. He waited for the guilt that accompanied that realization. The guilt over any disloyalty to Ben, and it never came. Ben was in his past. There was no comparison to the two, and if he was honest, Ben had been settled in his past for a while. He had been lonely and had transferred that loneliness to thinking only one person could fill that void. He’d been wrong.
His therapist had helped him with that. He hadn’t been attracted to Lucas because he reminded him of Ben. The two men couldn’t honestly have been more different. He was attracted to Lucas because his needs matched up perfectly with his own. That and the fact he was an amazing sexy package any Daddy would be insane to pass over.
He looked at the keys. His head was going around and around in circles, and he needed to clear it. He needed to be triply sure what he wanted because he couldn’t leave Lucas hanging. He couldn’t ever hurt him again, but to be doubt-free, he knew what he had to do and picked his keys up. Put on his boots and jacket and left the house.
He set off in the direction of the cemetery. He had some thought in his mind that he needed to say goodbye to Ben to allow himself to say hello to Lucas, but as soon as the thought settled, he bit out an exasperated expletive and pulled over to the side of the road. He’d visited Ben’s grave many times, but he knew—absolutely knew—in his heart of hearts, Ben would be laughing his ass off thinking a Dom, a Daddy, needed permission to do the right thing. And while he might agree that Doms, much as they wished it, were far from perfect, he knew that Ben would have given his blessing instantly two years ago.
“Thank you, love,” he whispered to Ben, finally acknowledging everything Jacob had been too stupid, too stubborn, to see before and turned the car around and headed back to the house where he belonged.
He couldn’t help driving a little faster than he should have done and finally burst through the kitchen door, not even bothering to toe his shoes off before he raced upstairs…
Into his completely empty bedroom. He dashed from one room to another, his eagerness leaching out as all he encountered was silence. He stumbled into Lucas’s room, his gaze resting on the clothes on the bed, the books, the puppy game, the hair slides—some half-decorated—and his onesie, and every single pair of silk panties.
As a goodbye it was damning.
As a fuck you it was even more eloquent.
An hour later and he was panicking. He’d driven around to any place he could think Lucas might go including his old house and the club, and after finding it obviously closed he’d gotten Adrian on the phone, who’d promised he hadn’t heard from him. He also promised to let Adrian know when he found him. He had even offered to get in his cars and search. Jacob had been touched by his kindness, and sincerity, and vowed not to turn his back on the community again. He just needed to find his boy.
And convince him he wasn’t going to leave him. Still calling himself all kinds of stupid, Jacob tried to think objectively about what Lucas would do if he needed help. Who could he call?
And then hardly daring to breathe, he called Patrick.
“Yes, he’s here, and no, you can’t see him.”
Jacob couldn’t find the words to reply. He couldn’t seem to think of any. “Is—” But he cut off the question. Of course he wasn’t all right. “Can you give him a message for me, then?”
Patrick sighed. “Of course I can.”
“Can you tell him I’m going to get a cab for the airport tonight? I’ll leave my car and the keys in the kitchen. The house keys will be under the mat.”
He heard the exasperated sound from Patrick. “Do you want to get the house broken into?”
He honestly didn’t care. Someone could put a match to it as far as he was concerned. “The house will be available for him to live in as long as he wants, assuming he doesn’t take that job you offered.”
“Which I found out thirty minutes ago he knew nothing about and managed to put my foot in it,” Patrick added dryly.
“Sorry,” Jacob whispered. He didn’t know why he hadn’t told him. Something else he’d screwed up. “Tell him sorry.” Tell him I don’t deserve him.
Tell him I love him.
Jacob’s heart stopped. Then it started beating so loudly he imagined Patrick would hear it.
He loved him. Of course he did. He was so stupid, and he nearly laughed.
Jacob was silent on the end of the phone so very long he was surprised Patrick didn’t assume he’d disconnected. “Actually, I don’t need you to tell him I’m sorry. I need you to tell him something entirely different.”
And Patrick listened while Jacob told him very carefully what to say.
The next morning Lucas blearily eyed the scenery as the cab drove him away from Patrick’s. Was Jacob just landing? He knew flights to the UK were generally night flights, and he assumed getting a flight on Christmas Day would be easier as anyone traveling already wanted to be there for that, or to wait until the day after.
He paid for the cab as it stopped at the end of the driveway, electing not to have it wait as he might need to check everything was locked up properly. Patrick was working this morning, and Charlie was working tonight, so he’d slipped out after Patrick had told him that Jacob had left his house keys under the mat and he was genuinely worried the house would get broken into. Not that it was Lucas’s responsibility, but Charlie was tired, and he knew he would have gone himself if Lucas hadn’t offered.
And they’d let him disturb their Christmas Day without one hint of making him feel like he was unwelcome or in the way. He owed them to do this himself, even if it would probably make him cry.
Make that definitely.
He had to blink a few times when he saw the car. He wasn’t going to take it, of course, but as gifts went it had been generous. Calling himself all sorts of an idiot for not simply getting the keys and climbing back in the cab, he bent down and lifted the mat. No keys. At the same time as he worried that he was too late, he heard a sound of something—maybe music—from the kitchen and tried the door. It wasn’t locked. Lucas had a thought that he ought to call 911 on the off chance the burglars were inside, but since when did thieves listen to Christmas music?
He had a brief vision of guys in masks dancing around crowbars to “Frosty the Snowman” before walking inside.
He closed the door behind him, registering the warmth from the oven and the music from the living room, and tears flooded his eyes. He didn’t know how he had any left after all the ones he had shed yesterday, and he wasn’t sure what masochism led him to see what was going on. Knowing what he was going to see and being terrified of it, he almost stumbled going into the living room.