“This is no joke the cutest shit I’ve ever seen.” Shifting in his chair, Brandt pulled out his phone.
“Hey, what are you doing? No pics!”
“Trust me. She’s gonna want a pic because I’m fully intending to tell her the story of her first smiles for Uncle Shane.” Brandt’s expression got that far-off look again. Oh, yeah. That was right. This was a guy without baby pictures or many mementos of his own to share with his kid. Shane could understand the impulse to do better for Jewel.
“Okay.” Shane resumed singing, trying to ignore the camera so Brandt could get a good pic of them. “She likes this other song too...”
He went into “She’ll Be Coming ’Round the Mountain,” for which he’d made up Jewel-specific lyrics, which got her smiling and Brandt laughing so loud his eyes crinkled.
“Damn.” Brandt whistled. “If you’re that good at silly songs, I bet you’re killer with a band.”
The urge to show off for Brandt was strong, something he’d never had before. He loved having an audience when he was on stage, sure, but he’d never wanted to sing for one specific person before. But now he did, wanted Brandt to see him at his best. “Come see me this weekend?”
“Yeah?” Brandt dropped his gaze from Shane’s face to the baby. “Isn’t the gig at a bar?”
“No, it’s more of a steakhouse with a Western vibe. Family place. They’ve even got mini golf. I drove by on our way back here. Big, open space. Shouldn’t be too hard for you to sneak out if the diva’s fussy.”
“Sounds a lot better than staying home.”
“Good.” A look passed between them, an understanding of sorts that this was something more than a purely casual friend invite. This wasn’t like the early days when he’d beg anyone he knew to come out, and maybe Brandt knew that because he nodded at Shane, eyes solemn. This thing between them was like the early summer weather, warm but also fragile, rapidly shifting from moment to moment. Impossible to plan for, but still worth enjoying.
Eyes still serious, Brandt’s mouth curved, and the smile worked like a tractor beam, making Shane step toward him. He wanted—
Rah. Rah. Whatever he’d had in mind, the baby had other plans.
“Hey now. None of that.” He half laughed, half scolded because what else could one do with a tiny baby? It wasn’t like she was blocking his romantic urges on purpose.
“Here, let me take a turn.” Done eating now, Brandt pushed away from the table. “You go find those cookies we got at the store. I have a feeling we’re going to need them.”
And they did. Jewel just did not want to settle down for the night. No signs of illness or true distress, but her crankiness knew no bounds. She was happy enough while one of them was holding her, and Brandt’s trick of making the soft toys dance for her worked as a distraction while Shane did the dishes. However, she started up again after her last bottle when Shane tried to put her to sleep in her crib for the night while Brandt took a shower.
“How’s it going?” Towel around his neck, Brandt poked his head into Jewel’s room where Shane was pacing with her. Damn. The man looked downright edible damp, face glistening, chest muscles flexing under a thin white sleeveless T-shirt, strong legs in loose shorts.
“So much for that thought of yours from earlier.” Shane spared him an appreciative look before the baby squawked again. “Or sleep.”
“Switch.” Not waiting for Shane to agree, Brandt held out his hands. “Let me try the rocking chair.”
Groaning, Shane handed her over if only so he could stretch his back. “I tried that, but she wakes back up as soon as she hits the crib. Patting her back in the crib works too, but she cries as soon as I stop.”
“New plan. You sing. I’ll pat. Then you sneak away first, then me.” Brandt nodded decisively, a glimpse into how he probably was in the field. Cool head, quick decisions, not afraid to think outside the box for solutions.
“Like a stealth mission?”
“Hey, whatever works, right?” Brandt shrugged as he swayed with Jewel.
“Okay. But no more goofy songs. Those wake her up.” Strangely, he was more self-conscious singing an old favorite than the kid songs. He had to start with humming, warm up to forgetting that Brandt was right there, and sing like he did when it was only him and Jewel. But then he fell into the familiar song about a tired singer, notes falling easily now as Brandt lowered the drowsy baby to the crib, patting her back. He kept singing, that song fading into another, softer now as the baby’s eyes finally fluttered shut and stayed that way.
Still singing, he crept from the room, staying in the hallway to finish the song. Right as he hit the ending notes, Brandt tiptoed out of the room, triumphant look on his face.
“It worked.” Shane smiled at him. The hallway was dark and seemed narrower than usual with Brandt right there in front of him, smiling mouth and intense eyes and all those acres of muscles, right there.
“Yeah, it did.” Licking his lips, Brandt backed Shane against the wall. “You tired?”
“No,” Shane whispered, voice hoarse from singing and from want, sheer overwhelming want.
“Good. ’Cause I had this idea in the shower...”
“Yeah?” Shane gave in and pulled Brandt the rest of the way against him, thigh to thigh, chests brushing, warmth unspooling in his gut. “What’s that?”
“You seemed to dig the idea of seeing my toy collection. Maybe you’d want to see me show off which ones I like?”
“Yeah.” Shane could barely manage an articulate noise as warmth turned to heat turned to fiery lust. “Show me.”
Chapter Fourteen
Brandt had been willing to pray to whatever sleep gods governed two-month-olds, he was that desperate to get a chance to be alone with Shane before they both passed out from exhaustion. Thankfully, his idea had worked, maybe a little too well because the ache lingered from listening to Shane sing sad, sleepy songs. He could still hear that perfect baritone as he led Shane down the hall toward his bedroom. A cappella, no guitar, no band, only the same strong, clear voice Shane had used for the silly songs, but stripped down to pure emotion. Old tunes, but new feelings in Brandt, ones he didn’t know how to cope with.
But he did know how to kiss Shane, how to push him against the hall wall, not even waiting for his room or a bed to kiss him hard. All those strange, new feelings wiggled their way into the kiss. Raw. That was what Shane had called country music and raw was exactly how Brandt felt, like a scrape he couldn’t reach. Vulnerable in a way he didn’t like much.
What he did like though was Shane’s mouth under his, hot and willing. Shane tasted like cookies, almost too sweet, the way he pulled Brandt in, met him kiss for kiss. He’d let Brandt plunder his mouth before returning the favor, a give and take that left them both breathless and clinging to each other.