I knew we had a bright future ahead of us, but seeing how my parents loved him, accepted him immediately, and the fact he was being animated instead of shy and awkward made me feel even more confident in our relationship working for the long haul. Nothing would have stopped me from wanting my boy in my life permanently, but it would have felt marred in some way without my parents’ support. Not that I’d been worried. My parents only ever wanted me to be happy.
At the end of the night, after talking at the dinner table for a couple of hours, we all sat down and watched White Christmas. My mom and Sanders’s mom both loved the movie, so we’d both grown up watching it. The night really couldn’t have gone better.
Tucked up against my side, head on my chest, my boy drifted off toward the end of the movie, and when I’d tried to wake him, he’d mumbled unintelligibly, so I’d picked him up and carried him upstairs to the master suite as my parents made themselves at home in the guest suite on the main floor.
As I tried to wrangle Sanders out of his clothes, he woke up enough to help me and brush his teeth. Once we were tucked into bed, he settled against me like he’d been doing it for years. He ran a hand up and down my chest. “I like your parents.”
“They like you too, baby.” I kissed his head, causing him to look up to meet my gaze. I tilted my head down to meet his lips, giving him a languid kiss, enjoying the soft slide of our tongues against each other’s. I caressed my hand down his back toward his plump, round ass, sliding my hand under his pastel pink panties and squeezing him gently before resting my hand there. He nudged himself even closer, moving his leg over my thighs, opening himself up for me. I slid a finger between his perfect cheeks and ran it up and down his cleft, settling my middle finger against his pucker.
Neither of us had the energy to do much more than kiss and touch each other, which we did, but I knew he loved falling asleep with my hand holding his ass, especially when he’d spread himself open enough for me to rest my finger on his sweet little hole.
The first time I’d done it, I hadn’t even realized it before he brought it to my attention. But when I made to move away, apologizing when I thought he was complaining, he’d grabbed my hand and put it back where it had been. He’d told me it gave him a sense of security and comfort. Who the hell was I to argue with him when I couldn’t get enough of touching every single delectable inch of his skin?
He wiggled his ass, nudging his semi against my hip, and kissed my chest where his head lay. “Mmm, you’re so possessive of my hole. Thank you, Daddy.”
A hum turned into more of a rumble in my chest as my grip tightened, pulling him against me. “It’s my hole, baby. Of course I’m possessive of it.”
“I love that.”
“I’m glad. So do I. Go to sleep, sweetheart. I’ve got you. Always.”
“Love you, Daddy.”
“I love you too, boy.”
23
Sanders
When we arrived at the Red Canyon Rest Home on Christmas Day, my brother was waiting outside. He was wearing the same suit with the oversized shoulder pads he’d been wearing the last time I saw him. He had enough confidence to pull the shoulder pads off, but it was good to remind myself that Matt had things he felt the need to overcompensate for too.
His eyes rested on Briggs as we got out of the car. I had warned him I was bringing a guy, but I had also apologized and rambled a lot too, so I wasn’t sure if he remembered.
Briggs wrapped his arm around my shoulders, and we walked across the parking lot together. It was nice to have the comfort of his warmth while Matt stood there, silently assessing us. He didn’t seem sure how to react to us. Maybe he thought the difference in our ages was too much or maybe he was wondering what a hot guy like Briggs was doing with someone like me.
For a moment, I panicked. What was Briggs doing with me? What would he think when he realized that my mom wasn’t ever getting better? It was one thing to tell him my mom had early onset Alzheimer’s but quite another for him to see it firsthand.
Then I remembered that he loved me. That still seemed too good to be true.
Matt held out his hand to Briggs. “It’s good to meet you. I’m Matt, Emmett’s brother.”
Briggs’s gaze darted back and forth between Matt and me. “It’s good to meet you too. You’ll have to forgive me. I’m used to calling him Sanders.”
That wasn’t technically true. He usually called me “baby” or “sweetheart,” and I hoped he never stopped. His pet names made me feel all glowy inside.
Matt chuckled. “Leo calls him that, but I don’t. It isn’t his name.” He turned around and headed for the front door.
I had never explained to Matt why I let Leo go on calling me Sanders all this time. I figured he wouldn’t have understood, that he would think it was silly. After all, it wasn’t that I hated the name Emmett, it had just never seemed to suit me. Sanders felt better—a little less harsh, a little less football player, and a little less like the wide-shouldered guy in a suit Matt was trying to be.
But if we were going to try to start over again and have a real relationship, maybe I should tell him.
“Um, Matt?” I said as he opened the door.
He looked back at me.
“I like Sanders, actually. Emmett isn’t really me, you know?”
Matt paused, staring at me for a long moment, before nodding. “Okay.”
We all stepped inside the lobby. Polly wasn’t there this time. Maybe she was taking time off to be with her family. In her place was a skinny guy in a Santa hat.
“Good evening! Go ahead and sign your name on this form.”
Matt wrote his name, then gave the pen to me. I hovered over the page for a moment before writing Sanders Hall.
I handed the pen to Briggs who signed his name next, then we walked slowly down the hall.
“I can be Reggie’s friend,” Matt said.
“Okay. Do you want us to use your name or…” We probably should have figured this out over the phone.
“Yeah. Same profession and everything too. I’m just your friend, that’s all.”
I wished I could make this easier for him. I knew how hard it was for me when Mom thought I was Reggie. I couldn’t imagine how he felt having to be someone outside our family.
Maybe there was a way I could make things better.
“We can keep her here, you know. The other place is actually really far away, and—”
Matt shook his head. “After we talked over the phone, I contacted a realtor. I’m putting my house up for sale so we can send her to the better facility.”
We stopped in front of Mom’s door.
“Look, Emmett… Sanders. I was wrong, okay? Mom is more important than my house. It’s just… she was so excited about owning that little condo, remember? I thought owning my own home was something she’d want for me. I just wanted to be the kind of son she could be proud of if she actually remembered me.” He gave me a quivering smile. His eyes were filled with tears, and if he wasn’t careful, he was going to cry right here in front of Briggs and the nurses walking by.
“I think Mom just wants us to be happy,” I said.