Walking Wounded Page 8

  “I’m sorry,” John said quickly, taking his preoccupation for unease.

  “Well, I’m not! You just surprised me. But let’s go home. I can’t do what I’d like to until you put those cats down, and I haven’t a free hand to do it with.”

  He was going to have to make a few phone calls when they got back to Johnny’s apartment. The Naval training program in Portsmouth was a potential employer, and he wouldn’t need a full-time job while he tried to see if he could be Britain’s answer to Tom Clancy.

  Chapter 8

  “KEV?”

  “Mmm?”

  “Will I squash anyone if I move?”

  “No, I think they’re under the bed. Wait! Can you hear that?”

  “What?”

  “Someone’s in the loo, scratching in the litter box.”

  “Oh, good. One of the cats?”

  “Of course, one of the cats, idiot! Who d’you think?”

  “Don’t want to think right now. C’mere….”

  “What, again?”

  “We’ve only caught up about three months’ worth of that seven years’ famine.”

  “Oh. Well, then, roll over. You look like you need your back rubbed….”

  “How did you know?”

  John rolled over and made himself comfortable, half dozing as Kevin worked his way carefully up one leg, then the other. His touch was a bit tentative but grew more sure as he worked farther up. It wasn’t about technique, anyway. Just having him there, making the effort, was sheer heaven. The all-over touching made arousal something more than a reflex, and by the time Kevin entered him, he was floating on an endorphin high. In his admittedly limited experience, there had never been anyone so empathic, so thoughtful; he had never been to bed with anyone who was as much concerned with giving pleasure as getting it. Though there wasn’t much doubt that Kevin was enjoying himself too. This wasn’t just sex; it was a whole magnitude better, the sort of lovemaking he had remembered with longing but never really expected to find again.

  He wasn’t sleepy afterward. Kevin went out like a light, though, and John guessed that he had been living under such strain that his body had a sleep debt the size of Kilimanjaro. The thought of actually getting out of bed and finding that statistics text was a little more work than he was prepared to tackle, so he propped a pillow under his head and lay back to watch his lover snore. If I find his snore romantic, I must be totally besotted. But it could have been any sound; it wasn’t much of a snore, more a reminder that Kevin was here, he was back… and this time it might just be for good.

  John could not quite believe his amazing good fortune. Even asleep, with those magical blue eyes shut, Kevin was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. And it wasn’t just physical beauty, though that was indisputable. Kevin had a sweetness about him, a consideration for others, that made him unique. Stopping at Pat’s had not been high on Kev’s to-do list, but he had gone along willingly enough and had even seemed to have a good time.

  Which brought another matter suddenly to John’s mind. How was he going to explain—or even describe—his entire relationship with those women? And the impending complications?

  It wasn’t as though you ever expected to see him again, his mind pointed out. It’s none of his business, really—it’s not something you need to bother him about.

  No, of course not. Much simpler to just wait and let him be surprised.

  Right.

  Young Horatio, tired of pouncing on his sister, came scampering into the bedroom, front legs just barely keeping a jump ahead of the rear, and headed straight for the bed. He caught the dangling edge of a blanket and swarmed up, making a beeline for John’s outstretched finger. The hand attached to that finger was bigger than the kitten’s entire body, but that made no difference at all in the little fellow’s balls-out attack.

  “You must be Nelson,” John said. “Never mind maneuvers, go straight at ’em.”

  Horatio ran up to his shoulder, looked around wildly, came to some feather-brained conclusion, and leapt onto Kevin’s chest.

  The result frightened them all.

  With a shout, Kevin threw out his arm, sending Horatio flying across the room. His elbow caught John on the chin. John blinked and went with his instinct, which was to roll over onto his lover and pin him down. As Kevin’s eyes opened, John caught a movement out of the corner of his own eye. Horatio had been flung onto the chair beside his chest of drawers and was clinging to the afghan Tess had knitted to cover the chair’s ancient, ugly cushions.

  The kitten was fine. Kevin was not; he looked stricken. “What did I do?”

  “Bounced the cat off the bed. It’s all right.”

  “Johnny, what did I do?” He was flushed, breathing hard; his eyes darted around the room.

  “That’s all, love. You bumped me, so I thought—”

  “I could have killed you.”

  “You didn’t.”

  “But—what happened?”

  “Horatio jumped on you—the boy’s got good taste—and you knocked him away.”

  “Did I hurt him?”

  Horatio meeped indignantly, gathered himself on the chair, and flung himself at the bed. He missed, but his claws caught halfway down the blanket and he hung there, squalling.

  “I don’t think so.” John leaned over to detach the youngster and held him out for Kevin’s inspection. “You may have dented his self-image. I think he was a lion in a former life.”

  Kevin’s smile was forced. He took the kitten carefully and set it down on John’s bare stomach. “That’s something I didn’t mention, though you’ve probably seen some of it yourself. Postcombat reflexes. I’m not the safest person to share a bed with.”

  John knew that was a valid fear; he checked his first impulse to say something dismissive. “You weren’t sleeping violently, Kev. You reacted to this twit landing on you. Do you wake violently?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve had some violent dreams. That last mission—and the training….”

  “I’ll keep an eye on you, but so far you’ve just slept quietly. I’d rather not borrow trouble. Have you had violent dreams while you’ve been here, dreams that woke you?”

  “Last night.”

  “Well, I’m a light sleeper, and whatever you did, it didn’t disturb me. The cats might make things more interesting. Or there’s something else we can try, if you like. It got the corpses out of my head.” At Kevin’s frown, he explained. “When I slept—after the Balkans—I kept seeing all the dead civilians from Kosovo, sometimes for hours. Women, kids, animals—I don’t go to horror movies anymore, I had my own private screening every night. The dreams got so bad I was afraid to sleep. Pills didn’t stop it, and I didn’t like the side effects, so I tried hypnosis, and that worked. I’ve taken some training in hypnotherapy, but if you’d rather do it yourself, I could make a script and you could read it onto a tape.”

  “I’d rather work with you,” Kevin said, settling back onto his pillow. “I’ve learned a few tricks, counter-interrogation techniques, that sort of thing. Funny it never occurred to me to use it for this. What sort of commands would you use?”

  “Suggestions, I’d call them.” He gave Kevin’s arm a gentle squeeze. “We can start with something simple. Since you’re worried about causing harm when you wake up, the best simple suggestion would be to tell your subconscious that when you’re sleeping, you should wait until you’re completely awake before you react physically. That only costs a fraction of a second. We can work on the language so that it’s phrased exactly the way you want.”

  Kevin looked at him quizzically. “I knew it would be good to see you again. It never crossed my mind that you could do so much.”

  John shook his head. “You might want to wait and see how much I actually know. I’ve made recordings for myself, but I’ve only ever done this for other people in the classroom.”

  Kevin pulled him over for a kiss. He wasn’t able to give the matter his full attention, though, because Hora
tio climbed up behind him and started chewing on Johnny’s long hair.

  “What the hell?” Kevin sat up. “When did we last feed those beasts? What time is it, anyway?”

  “Nearly midnight. It’s been about four hours…. Come to that, when did we last feed us?”

  “Breakfast.” One hand wandered south of John’s equator. “That is, if you’re referring to actual food.”

  John knew if he responded to that wicked smile, they’d get nothing to eat before sunrise. “High time for all of us, then. I’ll fix something for the kids, you can organize our picnic.” He’d gotten two steps toward the door when the little female wrapped herself around his ankle. “Damn it!”

  “I don’t suppose you can hypnotize cats?”

  Johnny had one of them in each hand now, and they were both trying to wriggle free. “Somehow I don’t think they’d notice my telling them to relax. Have you come up with a name for her yet?”

  “Not really. What’s wrong with Emma?”

  “She’s his sister, Kev!”

  “They’re cats, Johnny! Oh, hell, name her after my mother. Mum would be tickled.”

  John set the animals down on the kitchen floor. “What—Kate?”

  “Kitty! It’s very sensible.”

  “It’s not very original.”

  “Watch.” Kevin was at the fridge; he took the tin of cat food, held it out, and called, “Here, Kitty!” The response was immediate—both struggled out of John’s grasp and ran to the food. “See? She likes it.”

  “I suppose. And Kitty will do for now.” He warmed some water in the microwave and mixed a little into the chilled cat food, as Pat had instructed, and set out some of the dry kibble on a paper plate. They gobbled the warm food first and immediately proceeded to the other dish. “I’d better call the vet tomorrow. They look like they’re going to burst.”

  “You could call and leave a message now. I’m sure the vet has some kind of voice mail. But they look happy enough to me.” Horatio was now standing in the center of the plate, while his sister nibbled daintily from one side. “Go on, Johnny, I’ve got this in hand.”

  He really did. In the few minutes it took John to call the vet and leave a message asking for an appointment, Kevin had spread a picnic out across the kitchen counter. “I don’t think they can jump this high yet,” he explained, nodding toward Kitty, who’d parked herself at his feet. She had abandoned the dry kibble as soon as she’d smelled something more interesting, and was staring upward with a look almost cross-eyed in its intensity.

  “They will soon, though,” John said. “Chicken is a great motivator.”

  “Then we’ll get a table. And we’ll teach them to stay off—at least during meals. My mother used a squirt gun.”

  The thought of Kevin’s poised, elegant mother wielding such a weapon was inconceivable. “Kev… not really?”

  “Really. It worked, too. Harmless, but they don’t like it.” He handed John a plate. “Here, take what you like, and I’ll open the champagne.”

  “Champagne?”

  “I thought the occasion deserved it.”

  Potato salad, chicken salad, half a dozen other containers whose contents he recognized and at least two he didn’t, plus a loaf of fresh crusty bread. Kevin had gone a little overboard on the selection; they had enough here for at least one more meal.

  “We’ll have to drink that from water glasses,” John said. “It’s that or teacups.”

  “As long as we don’t have to drink from each other’s shoes,” Kevin said as they settled on the futon. “Here you go, then. To our future together!”

  John smiled, but sipped uneasily. There was one more thing he had to tell Kevin, and the sooner he did, the sooner he’d stop feeling guilty. “Kev, it’s been a long time since we’ve seen each other.”

  “I know. I really should have called you before now, Johnny. I’m sorry.”

  “It isn’t that. That is, in a way—”

  “There’s someone else?”

  “No!” He tried to decide how to explain, and realized that no matter what he said, it was going to sound like an outtake from a soap opera. “No, not exactly.”

  Kevin’s expression grew guarded. “That really seems to be an ‘either-or’ sort of thing, John.”

  John put his hand over Kevin’s. Kev didn’t pull away, but he didn’t relax either. “No, please listen, it’s complicated. I am not interested in anyone else as a lover. I want you. I want only you. For the rest of my life, if you’ll have me.”

  “But?” Kevin said warily.

  “But….” He hoped this didn’t sound as wild to Kevin as it had the first time he’d heard the proposition. “But—you’ve met Pat.”

  “Yes,” Kevin agreed, clearly at sea. “I have met Pat.”

  “She and her partner Tess want to have a baby. Two, actually.”

  “How nice. But…. Isn’t she a little old for that?”

  “I think she’s about forty-five, and I’m not sure if that’s really too old, for some women. But Tess is ten or twelve years younger, she’s the one actually having them. It. Him or her.”

  “Oh!” Kevin looked much relieved. “So…. Are you saying you’ve agreed to be a sperm donor or something? Or—or sleep with her just to, to….”

  He hesitated, and John quickly jumped in. “Sperm donor. They’d tried frozen, and it was costing a lot and didn’t seem to be working.”

  Kevin frowned at his plate. “This is really a lot more than I wanted to know about those ladies, Johnny.” He stabbed at a chunk of potato salad and chewed ferociously.

  John couldn’t help laughing. Poor Kevin. A classic case of Too Much Information. “I know it must be. And I’m sorry. It’s the timing. If they’d just asked recently, I’d tell them I wouldn’t do it unless it was all right with you. If I’d ever guessed you might be back, I would have waited—but there wasn’t anyone else for me, and it didn’t look as if there ever would be, and they wanted me to spend time with the kid, especially if it turned out to be a boy. I was a little worried about the responsibility, but since I don’t have any other family, and I think they’ll be good mothers…. At any rate,” he said, floundering and desperate to get it over with, “I’m going to have a baby. I mean—” Kevin choked, and John pounded him on the back. “I mean, Tess is already pregnant.”

  “Thank God!”

  “What?”

  “That it’s not you! Well, here’s to the new arrival….” He drained the glass. “Just tell me, Johnny—have all the shoes dropped, or is there a half-shod centipede on the roof?”

  “I’m sorry, Kev. I really am. It’s just that things are moving so fast with us, and a baby’s a big thing to keep secret. I don’t want to have secrets like that from you. It wouldn’t be fair, and I’d feel like some dunce in a soap opera.”

  “It wouldn’t have stayed secret for long! Though I don’t think I ever would have had the nerve to ask Pat who the father was.”

  “I suspect she’d have told you…. After all, you’ll be part of the family.”

  “I will, won’t I?” Kevin looked a bit dazed. “What’s your obligation, exactly?”

  “Legally, none. They had a solicitor draw up paperwork. I’m not legally responsible for anything, though if anything were to happen to both of them, we all agreed that I’d take over, as the natural father. That’s also in the agreement. So if you and I are together, there’d be a slight chance you might wind up with a stepson or stepdaughter. Which is why I had to tell you, in case you don’t want the responsibility. Not that you’d have to take over, but I might…. Kev, are you all right?”

  Kevin had put his fork down on his tray, leaned back, and shut his eyes. “I’m fine. I’m just trying to keep track of everything. You, two cats, a baby on the way, some sort of lesbian in-laws—I don’t know what exactly you’d call them, sisters-in-law? Out-laws? And I have to find a new job, and we have to find a new home. Have I got it all?”

  John thought about it. “I have a test nex
t week. But that’s not as important. I’ll do well enough in the course even if I blow off the exam.” That wasn’t entirely true; he’d pass, but barely. Somehow, though, getting good marks didn’t seem as important as it had a day or two ago.

  Kevin saw it differently. “You can’t blow off your exam with a kid on the way.” A corner of his mouth quirked upward. “I wonder if it’ll look like you? God, my mother will be in seventh heaven when she finds out there’ll be another baby in the extended family.”

  “Your father’ll be tearing his hair.”

  “He can learn to adapt,” Kevin said heartlessly. “Do him good.”

  John sipped at his champagne and studied his lover. Kevin had always been resilient, but this easy acceptance was just astonishing. “No second thoughts?”

  Kevin shook his head. “No. Oh, I imagine the first time we have to babysit I’ll wonder what on earth I was thinking, but, no, Johnny. When I got here yesterday, I really thought—” He sighed. “I’m not sure what I thought. The future looked pretty empty. Now, I don’t know what to expect, but I’m sure it won’t be—whoa!” He snagged Horatio out of midair, making a leap for his plate. “Dull,” he finished, putting the cat back on the floor.

  “I see what you meant about a squirt gun,” John said.

  “Maybe two. Do you have a lease here?”

  “I have to give a month’s notice. That would put us into a week or two before Christmas.”

  “So if we found a place we could occupy December first, we’d have a week or two overlap, maybe stay here until the new year. I can put my furniture in storage until then. Unless you’re having second thoughts?”

  “I feel like a kid on Christmas morning,” John admitted. “The only reason I might want to wait would be so we don’t rush into something we could regret. I don’t think I ever will, but it would be a big change for us both.”

  “But it’s not new,” Kevin said. “We’ve known each other for—how long? Nearly a year, not counting the time we were apart. We’ve seen each other in a lot of different situations. We know we’re compatible.”