Love Brewing (Love Brothers #3) (19 page)

He had to get some distance from all this…from what had
happened to Kent, from Diana and the ongoing temptation she presented to him,
from his hovering, well-meaning, but irritating brothers.

But first… he smiled when the nurse wheeled Kent into the
room. “I’ve got him.” He winked at the woman, helped Kent out of the wheelchair
and into a recliner next to his. He popped open a couple of Love Brewing
Heartbroken IPAs and passed Kent one.

“Take a load off,” he insisted, putting his feet up on the
leather ottoman he’d also arranged for. Kent clutched the beer, then smiled and
put his feet up with a small wince of pain. Dom held up his bottle. Kent
touched his to it. They sipped. Dom pointed up to the ceiling. Kent’s gaze
followed and he choked out a laugh.

Dom grinned up at the posters he’d bought and plastered over
the entire expanse of boring, beige drywall. Women in all sorts of undress
gazed down at them with collective come-hither expressions. He’d spared the
staff some of the really raunchy, split wet-beaver shots, but had a stack of
those tucked into the bedside table drawer. There were plenty of tits and ass
on display above them, of the sort he and Kent both enjoyed, they’d learned to
their mutual delight once Kent had popped Dom’s cherry.

“Well, hell.” Kent chuckled, sipping and admiring the view
above him. “I might be able to get it up despite all these meds.”

Dom grinned and pointed his beer bottle at him with a wink.
“That’s the idea.”

“Got movies too?”

“Only the finest video porn money can buy, streamed directly
to that giant flat screen over there. Girl-on-girl galore. Hey, I’ve got a
great idea. Let’s watch some.”

Kent grinned around his beer bottle. Dom tried not to weep
at the vision of the man, once so amazingly robust and healthy, now like a
famine victim, his wasted frame swimming in his jeans and T-shirt. Kent’s eyes
were bright as Dom locked the door then pointed the remote at the TV.

“Come over here,” Kent said, his voice hoarse. “Please.”

Dom nodded and sat in his recliner, enjoying some of their
favorite girl-on-girl variations, getting hornier by the minute.

Kent reached over the small table and touched Dom’s hair.
“Show me?”

He nodded, got to his feet and unzipped his jeans, his face
burning with unshed tears.

It took about five days for Kent to decline, and when he
died, Dom held him close, whispering
I love you’s
. Once the doctor had
been summoned to declare it official, Dom let Kent go, accepted hugs from Cara,
his mother, and Kent’s mother, then ran out the door. He got on his bike and
rode for an hour, before pulling up in front of the fancy new Brantley Farms
barn-turned-banquet hall.

Diana put her phone down at about the same time she heard
Dom’s Harley in the driveway. She walked to the side screen door and opened it,
then gathered him close and dropped to the couch, rocking him until he calmed,
and for the first time since the second she’d acknowledged her feelings for him
as a teenager, she was not tempted to kiss him. He laid his head against her
chest, convincing her that this was good, this was fine, it was okay have him
close and provide what comfort she could.

They held onto each other and Diana allowed herself to drift
off, visions of her upcoming wedding to Lee filling her dreaming brain. When
she woke he’d draped a blanket over her, but she heard him puttering in the
kitchen. He emerged with two cups of coffee and sat next to her.

“I’m moving to Colorado,” he declared, surprising her.

“What? Why?”

“I have to get away from here. Start over, or something. I
was gonna go alone but I’ve decided to…well…I’m taking the boy with me.”

She put her coffee cup down. “You can’t take him away from
your parents, Dom. That will kill them.”

“He’s my son. I have to work out my relationship with him
without them constantly stepping between us. They’re too old, as my brothers
like to remind me, to be taking care of a rowdy-ass seven-year-old.”

She leaned on her knees, contemplating this apparent change
of plans. “I…um…well, have you at least talked to them about it?”

“I just came from watching my…my ex-lover die from cancer
because he had AIDS, Diana. I think I’m grown-up enough to decide where to live
with my own kid.”

She blew out a breath. “No one is trying to take away your
right to decide things.”

“Don’t patronize me.”

She touched his jaw with her fingertips.

“Relax, honey. I’m on your side.”

He glared at her, making her recoil. “If you were on my side
you wouldn’t be about to marry the veterinarian.”

She jumped up, unwilling to go down that road again with
him. “You know, just when I think you’re done being a selfish ass, your true
self shows up again.”

“I’ve had a crappy few months, Di. Cut me some slack.”

“Fuck you and your slack. All you ever get is slack. We all
coddle you too much. ‘Where’s Dom? Is he still on his meds? Who’s taking care
of Dom?’” She backed up, not believing the words she heard coming from her own
lips. “You know what? I’m done babysitting you, you bastard. I never should
have let you in here, in my life, but I kept doing it, up until and including
this last time.”

He rose slowly and walked toward her, his gaze darkening in
a way she recognized.

“Don’t come any closer. You don’t get to have me, Dominic.
Get that through your thick skull right now. Go on and run away to Colorado or
wherever you think you have to. It’s probably best. You’ve used up all the
goodwill here.” She pushed past him.

He grabbed her arm. “Wait, please. I’m sorry. I didn’t
mean….”

“You came here to tell me you were hightailing it out west
with the son you barely know under one arm and you honest to god thought I’d
chuck all my plans with Lee out the window, didn’t you?” She faced away from
him, her arm still in his grip. “Jesus H. Christ, Dom. What kind of idiot do
you take me for?”

“No,” he insisted, giving her a little tug. “Yes.” He folded
her into his arms. “I’m sorry.”

“Let
go
of me.” She disentangled, nearly blind and
deaf with rage and remorse. “You are three days late and about a thousand
dollars short for that. You fucked me over one too many times. I love Lee, do
you get me, you asshole?
Not
you.” She gave him a shove. He didn’t
resist, stumbling over the table, sending their cups to the floor and dark
stains spreading across the worn wooden porch floor.

A piercing pain sliced through her chest, sensing this for a
final
the end
—at last. But she owned it, and slammed the kitchen door in
his face when he tried to follow her inside.

She shook all over as she retrieved her phone from the
kitchen counter and pulled up Lee’s number. “Come get me,” she sobbed into the
device. “Don’t ask me any questions. Please.”

He arrived within fifteen minutes, from where she had no
idea, and she fell into his arms.

Their wedding went off flawlessly two days later. But when
Diana sought the one person she wanted so very much to be there and happy for
her, he was absent. Lindsay gave her a long, tight hug toward the end of the
reception in the new banquet barn.

“Dom’s headed West, he says.” She let go and dabbed her eyes
with a hankie. “He’s taking Jace with him. Anton is apoplectic. So it’s kinda
status quo at my house.” She patted Diana’s cheek. “You are so beautiful. I wish….
Oh, never mind what I wish.” She touched Lee’s arm. “You two be happy, now,
hear? Make some pretty babies and just…be happy.”

“What was that all about,” Lee asked Diana, cupping her ass
and yanking her close.

“Oh, nothing, I don’t know.” She pressed her face into his
chest, her brain buzzing and her body revving up.

“Hmmm, well, is this deal over yet? I’m ready to get on a
plane and have so much sex we can’t walk.”

“I’m not having sex on a plane with you, ick.” She giggled
when he nuzzled her neck.

“Fine. Let’s go fuck now and knock my edge off before we
leave.”

She glanced across the mostly empty room, then motioned to a
closed door where she kept a small office. “Let’s make a baby,” she whispered
to him once they were alone.

He blinked, then smiled, then kissed her lightly. “Okay,
that’s new. You sure?” She nodded. His grin widened. “Well, they say practice
makes perfect.”

Two Years Later

Dominic heaved the huge bags of malt off the pallet and onto
the ’gator wagon, shoulders aching and his mouth bone-dry after the bender he’d
gone on the night before. He watched the lady brewer as she reamed out some
poor shmuck of a brew boy in the large open doorway to the main brewery. Her
recent promotion over his better-qualified head as a publicity stunt had pissed
him off so much he’d overpaid a babysitter and gone out to get
ass-over-teakettle drunk with some girl he barely remembered until he woke up
sticky and naked, draped over her bare body.

The sitter had agreed to stay over, but he knew he’d pay the
price in spades from his son once he got home from work today. Since it was
summer break, he didn’t have to worry about getting Jace on the bus with his
lunch packed exactly right, thank the good Lord. The kid knew how to extract
his pound of flesh—a tantrum followed by junk food, violent video games and/or
the latest gore-fest movie.

“Love!” Chris, the newly and unfairly promoted brewer lady’s
voice broke through his fog, making him grit his teeth.

“I’m coming, hold your water.” He drove across the parking
lot and pulled into the open garage door to the huge production floor then
spent the next three hours letting her boss him to her heart’s content until
they had two hundred barrels of their signature California Common bubbling away
in fermentation.

He flopped onto the couch in his old office that she’d
co-opted and put his boots up on his—now her—desk. She glanced up from her
laptop screen and shoved them off. “Come on, doll. Don’t be bitchy,” he spoke
to the ceiling.

She stretched, and he got an eye popping view of the expanse
of her torso between her shirt and jeans. “Let’s fuck.” He was already
unzipping his jeans.

“Where were you last night?” She let her tiny excuse for a
shirt hike up even farther, giving him a glimpse of the black sports bra barely
encasing her huge tits.

“Out.” He got to his feet and bumped the door closed with
his hip. “What? We’re not married. I don’t report to you.”

“You left in a snit.” She let him pull her to her feet.
“Such a big baby.” She slid his zipper all the way down. “I wanted this,” she
whispered, rubbing her warm palm up and down his stiffening dick. “And you took
it away from me.”

He repressed the urge to shove her off him and run out of
the boiling hot office. The woman was a little clingy-scary, but somehow that
made her more enticing and something perverse in him loved getting her wound
up. “You’re spoiled,” he growled, dipping his fingers down her pants and
finding her warm, and moist, and ready. “I can’t have that.” He let out a hiss
when she flicked his piercing a little too enthusiastically, shivering at the
pain and pleasure combination. Blinded by the sort of lust he’d forgotten he
possessed, he yanked her jeans down, flipped her around so she faced her—once
his—desk and smacked her bare butt.

She squealed. “Again. Harder.” He pressed his cock into the
cleft of her ass and gave her the spanking that always got her off.

“Rub it.” He grabbed her hand and shoved it between her
legs.

The distinct odors of brewing and sex combined brought out
something out in him he no longer recognized…or liked. His palm stung and his
dick ached for a connection. Finally, she came with a sigh and a shudder. He
gripped her hips and shoved into her, once, twice, three times.

“Hey,” she whined when he extracted himself. “What’re ya
stopping for?” He grunted and yanked her around so he could shove his tongue
into her mouth, wanting that connection too, wanting it so badly he hurt in his
chest and head. His wet dick pressed between them. She reached for it, teasing
the piercing like he showed her, then spread her legs and took him inside her
again, her perfect tits pointed up, their sweet nipples rock hard.

They’d been practicing the whole tantric thing, in a hippy
burst of Colorado living, so he came a little more, hating it but figuring it
for the best he could hope for.

“Goddamn, you are good at that,” she said as he nearly
collapsed, weak from hangover, lack of food, and orgasm depletion. “Coming over
later?” She pulled up her jeans and tugged down her bra and shirt.

“No.” He zipped up, still a little tingly and wishing he
could actually finish. But disgust kept him moving so he could get the hell
away from her. “Can’t.”

“Oh, right, the kid.” She bit his lower lip. “Well, see ya
tomorrow, Dominic. Remember, it’s an early morning. Lots of orders to fill.”
She flopped into her desk chair and opened her laptop as if he’d never waltzed
in there and fucked her twice over her—was his—desk.

He trudged out, cursing under his breath, but brightening
when he got a whiff of the fresh outdoor air. Taking long, deep breaths of it,
he was reminded of why he loved it here. It felt as if his lungs had expanded,
like the very air held perfection. He laughed at his own stupid thoughts,
jumped on his bike and roared the few miles in the direction of his generic
apartment building.

When he’d realized Chris, once his assistant, now his boss
had a bad case of the Dominic-hots, he’d acted on that, thinking why the hell
not? She’d told him in no uncertain terms that he
stunk of chemicals
the
first time she’d sucked his dick, then had proceeded to introduce him to the
joys of weed and tantric sex, encouraging him to rid his body of its dependence
on pharmaceuticals. So, he’d gone off his meds once more, going with the fresh
air, daily exercise, random bit of marijuana cure for the last year and half.
Well, that, and regular, top-drawer kinky fucking with the somewhat-scary
Chris. But his options stayed open, because he went out without her plenty,
locating random pussy whenever she got too bossy.

Kieran had come out a couple of times to the delight of Jace
and little Frankie who idolized his cousin way more than Dom felt warranted.
Both Aiden and Antony had schlepped their families out once and those visits
had been fine, if a little too long for Dom’s taste.

They’d asked their usual
taking the meds still
questions and he’d been unable to hear anything but Diana’s accusatory fury
about him being coddled. He’d nodded, already recognizing his body had entered
serious anti-depressant/anti-anxiety detox. He’d not spoken to his father once
since informing him that he no longer had to be responsible for Jace, that Dom
would be moving and taking the kid with him so they could bond without his parents
meddling.

His mother sent him the odd email now and again. The
estrangement arrangement hurt the most in December. No matter how
dysfunctional, there truly was no place like home for the holidays and it hurt
his soul not to share it with them. But he and Jace had come up with their own
tradition, having their first snowboarding lesson on Christmas Day at one of
the expensive resorts. Now the kid was a near-expert and Dom had gotten more
pussy than he likely deserved from tourist ladies charmed right out of their
panties by the sweet little boy and his hot Daddy.

He’d never once looked at, nor considered a relationship
with, another man however and intended to keep it that way.

“Hey, kid.” He tossed a bag of groceries up on the cluttered
counter. “Sorry about last night.” Easing out of his work boots and grabbing
the milk from of the fridge, he took a long drink. They didn’t fool with BS
like glassware much, drinking from the cartons, leaving the toilet seats up,
dropping their underwear on the floor—dealing with the mess once a week
together, for about two hours worth of scrubbing, laundry and other random
cleaning.

The only noise came from the never-off television. Dom
wandered into the living space, noting that the mutt he’d gotten to placate the
kid the last time he’d had an inadvertent sleepover and left him with a sitter
had ripped another hole in the sofa cushion.
Skywalker,
as he’d been
dubbed at the kennel, was some butt-ugly blend of bulldog and collie, or maybe
shepherd. He stank to high heaven, slobbered constantly, but he’d been
housebroken and wouldn’t let Jace out of his sight. Which went a long way
toward redeeming him, most days.

“Jace,” he called out, when it became clear the room was
empty. He took a deep breath, taking in odors of old booze, sticky malt, BO,
and pussy—it did not make for a pleasant combo. He pulled his shirt off and
dropped his jeans onto the floor on the way down the small hallway separating
their rooms.

Jace’s bedroom door was closed, but Dom heard the dog
whining on the other side. He opened it, blinking in the darkness and
experienced a moment of panic. The kid had taken off once before, getting about
six blocks away before he’d lost control of the dog who’d bounded joyfully back
to the apartment and guided a terrified Dominic to where Jace sat in a diner,
teary-eyed and clutching a glass of milk. It had scared the kid, thankfully, so
he’d not tried it again.

“You stink,” a small voice called out from the general
direction of the bed. A flashlight beam blinded him, making him curse and
stumble around, impaling one foot on a Lego and stubbing his toe on Jace’s
snowboard. “I don’t like that babysitter. She makes me read books.”

Dom dropped onto Jace’s messy bed. He’d been bound and
determined to be the sort of father he’d wanted—relaxed, lenient about things
that didn’t matter, strict about others. A buddy, a friend more than a
tyrannical, switch-wielding, mostly absent jerk. Dom tried to never leave Jace
alone much, but he had a long list of sitters willing to accept his overpayment
in exchange for some hours with the slightly spoiled, yet endearing
little
Dominic
.

Dom dropped onto the huge pile of pillows. “Douse the damned
light,” he muttered. Jace obliged and snuggled into his side, something that
had been a long time coming, but after the first runaway adventure had become
more regular. He put his arm around the boy and drifted to the distant sound of
the TV and the dog’s snoring.

He woke from a dream about mermaids licking his dick to find
the ugly dog sniffing down there, intrigued, it seemed by various odors around
his master’s junk.

“Get off me, you perv.” He sat up and spotted Jace sprawled
on his pillow, his blanket tangled up in his legs. Dom looked at him, marveling
at how far they’d come, and already anticipating the looming holiday season,
sans parents, brothers, or cousins.

He’d eschewed the concept of regular bedtimes during the
summer, as it had always been a youthful dream of his. The kid would have
grown-up like responsibilities soon enough, he reasoned. Let him be a
rock-climbing, basketball-loving, ice-cream-for-breakfast-eating, snowboard bum
for a while.

He tugged the blanket over Jace’s legs and headed for the
shower, snagging his phone out of the jeans he’d dropped on the floor. Noting
three texts from whatever girl he’d boned the night before—using his vast
powers of deduction after the third text declared,
do you even remember me,
you shithead?
—he ducked under the scalding hot water and stayed there a
solid thirty minutes.

When he emerged, scrubbed clean and less fuzzy-headed, he
grabbed some shorts and headed to the kitchen to conjure a decent Friday
evening meal. Jace wandered in with his faithful companion stuck to his side
and sat, messing with a game on his phone. Dom finished making spaghetti, set
it on the table and they ate, both fiddling with phones, while the dog panted,
waiting for a meatball to drop on his head. At one point, Dom glanced at his
son, intent on his latest gaming obsession, the tip of his tongue sticking out
from between his lips.

“Hey, earth to Jace.” He threw a balled-up napkin at the
boy’s face.

The boy ignored him so studiously Dom had to give the kid
props for it.

“Let’s go to the gym tonight. You should practice your hook
shot.”

Jace put the phone down on the table with a sigh worthy of a
teenager, giving Dom a flash of more fun to come. “Whatever. We’re still going
to the mountain tomorrow, right?”

Dom nodded, standing up as he finished his glass of water.
“We’ll do these later, after the Skywalker pre-wash.” They put their dishes on
the floor so the dog could lick them as if his life depended on their
cleanliness. “Grab your ball, kid. Let’s go.”

Jace found his custom-fit helmet and clamored on to ride
pillion. They pulled up to the downtown YMCA and headed to the top-floor
basketball courts. After a solid hour of screwing around and a bit of actual
shooting, they sat on the floor sipping water and watching a game that had
started on the main court. At one point, Jace climbed over into Dom’s lap and
sat in the middle of his crossed legs, mesmerized by the grown men and their
somewhat sloppy game. Dom kissed his son’s head repeatedly, marveling at how
he’d managed something positive in spite of the massive pile of crap he’d left
behind in Kentucky.

This had been the best possible thing for him, he reasoned.
But imaginary visions of his brothers, his parents, all the cousins gathering
at the Love family Christmas tree, and then later for dinner nearly did him in.
He held little boy’s warm torso close and shut his eyes, but that brought
visions of Diana so clearly he sucked in a breath. He could see her mouth
moving as if she were speaking to him. He shivered.

“Let’s go home. I’m beat.” He stood and hauled the boy up
and over his shoulder, relishing the sweet sound of his giggles.

“Daddy, I want ice cream,” Jace demanded as he fastened his
helmet under his chin.

“Not now, Jace. I’m tired.”

The boy’s lower lip stuck out, clear precursor to a tantrum.
Dom flicked it, making him squeal and grin even as he crossed his arms over his
chest. But he loved it when his son called him that—Daddy. He didn’t do it much
and had probably figured out that Dom was way more inclined to do whatever he
wanted when he used it.