Hurricane Reese Page 7

  Reese prepared Grandpa’s eggs and toast. The old man didn’t seem able to tolerate his favorite breakfast meats any longer, but he still enjoyed the eggs with a little Tabasco sauce. He was eating less overall. Along with his increase in sleep, that meant his time was running out. Reese vowed to make the remaining time as enjoyable as possible for the man who meant so much to him.

  He heard Jude shut off the shower as he slid the food into the warmer. Then he remembered that Jude hadn’t grabbed anything from the car. He’d probably been too tired. Reese went to his room hoping to find some smaller clothes that might fit him. He was just pulling out some sweats and a long-sleeved T-shirt when he heard throat-clearing behind him.

  “I didn’t—”

  “I was just grabbing some clothes for you. They’re not as fashion forward as scrubs, but I think you’ll be comfortable.”

  Reese turned to find Jude standing in a towel in the doorway and froze where he stood. Jude’s torso was sculpted beautifully. He didn’t have the kind of muscle tone you’d see on someone who lived in a gym. He was built more like the dancers in Reese’s show. His chest was bare. The only hair visible lined his lower abdominal region and disappeared under the towel. Reese had to remind himself that he wanted Jude to give himself over and that removing the towel himself would be all kinds of wrong. He needed to hand him the clothes and leave. But Jude was absolutely breathtaking. Reese stared for several moments before his brain kicked back into gear.

  “I’ll just leave you,” Reese stammered, his face hot. He placed the clothes on the bed, though he longed to join Jude there, naked against each other.

  “Get some rest,” Reese said in a husky voice. “I’m going to run to the store. If you can just—”

  “Reese?”

  Reese had been trying to leave the room with his sanity intact, but the tone of Jude’s voice stalled him. He turned slowly.

  “I won’t be in your way. I’ll—”

  “I want you in my way. Don’t ever do that again, Jude. This is more your home than mine. I don’t ever want you doing without again.”

  The lust that had fueled their spontaneous kiss morphed into a determination within Reese to do right by the man who’d taken such good care of his grandfather. Reese fully intended to take care of Jude, no matter what happened between them. He owed him.

  Chapter Eleven

  JUDE LOOKED down at the clothes Reese had set out for him and shook his head. How exactly was he supposed to wear clothes made for a man at least six inches taller and forty pounds heavier? But he was too tired to complain. He pulled them on and laughed at the result. The shirt came down to his thighs, and the sweats required rolling if he didn’t want to trip. Thankfully they had a drawstring, so he didn’t have to hold them up. He lifted the shirt to his face and inhaled Reese’s scent. His eyes rolled back in his head, and he groaned at the feeling that hit him low in the gut.

  That kiss was quite possibly the hottest moment Jude had ever experienced in his life. He’d had lovers before—some casual flings with acquaintances and secretive encounters that were more to scratch an itch than to build any sort of relationship. There were too many factors working against that possibility. Jude got what he needed. He demanded to be in control, to set the terms, and he took what he wanted. But what he wanted from Reese was to give up that control. He wanted Reese to take control, and he wanted to allow himself to just….

  Jude fell back on Reese’s king-size bed, surrounded by Reese’s scent. He stretched out and relaxed for the first time since he’d found himself homeless. He wouldn’t allow himself to get used to the feeling, but for a nap, Jude would take the opportunity to recuperate so he could help Reese.

  JUDE SLEPT like the dead and assumed he was dreaming when he felt gentle fingers in his hair. He snuggled into the touch and resisted the urge to open his eyes and confirm it was Reese. He wanted to continue the dream.

  “You’re so beautiful,” Reese whispered as though Jude wouldn’t hear him. Jude’s heart fluttered. Could Reese really see him? In all the time Jude had been crushing on Reese, he never imagined the golden boy would ever notice him, much less return his feelings. But what he heard next changed everything.

  “I know there are a million reasons why I shouldn’t want this, but none of them matter when I look at you. You look like everything right to me. I want to make this right.”

  Jude wanted to reach out and take what Reese was offering, but he didn’t want to break the magic of the moment, so he remained still and felt the bed shift. Reese’s warm breath caressed his forehead as he placed a gentle kiss there. Then his weight lifted from the bed, and Jude heard his heavy footsteps leaving the room.

  Jude opened his eyes and blew out a breath. Wow. The man was a true romantic.

  He was right, though. There were a million reasons why they shouldn’t even entertain the idea of getting involved. That thought spurred Jude into action. He needed to get up and do his job. That was most important.

  It was close to noon by the time Jude entered the living room. Mr. Matheson was sitting in his chair watching Judge Judy, and sounds from the kitchen meant Reese was likely fixing his lunch. Then Mr. Matheson would sleep for at least an hour. He’d wake and want to walk out back. Then Ellen and supper at four. Then the news. Then another walk. Then bed by early evening. The routine was most important for him. Jude hoped that a couple of days back on schedule would help Mr. Matheson perk up. Jude didn’t like the amount of sleeping he’d been doing. Not to mention him forgetting Reese. Jude knew how much pain that caused Reese, and he hoped there weren’t many more of those incidents.

  “Jude, my boy. What happened to your uniform? You look like a ragamuffin in them clothes.”

  Jude looked down at Reese’s gigantic clothes and grimaced. What would he think?

  “I, umm—”

  “Old man, I got your grilled cheese here,” Reese called out as he entered the room, but he paused when he saw Jude in his clothes. A sly smile spread across his face. It made Jude blush and turn around.

  “Hot stuff. Bring it on over. And after I eat, we gotta play some music. You got my sheets outta the garage?”

  Reese’s smile faded a bit. “Got them out yesterday, remember? Let’s play some music.” Reese sat the plate down on the tray and placed it on Mr. Matheson’s lap. “Jude, I made you one too. Have a seat.”

  Mr. Matheson frowned at Reese and then at Jude. He seemed to be trying to figure out what was different, and he didn’t seem happy. Jude sank into the couch and felt swallowed up by the clothes, by the couch, and by his guilt. He had no business entertaining the thoughts he was having about Reese. Sitting in front of Mr. Matheson just hammered that thought home.

  “I want to start going through these songs and piece together the best for the musical. I’m still playing with a title, and I know I want it to be something about a girl on the corner, but that just sounds wrong.”

  Reese handed Jude a tray with a grilled cheese sandwich, potato chips, and fresh fruit on it, which put Jude further out of his comfort zone. He wasn’t a guest. Why is he serving me? Jude looked wide-eyed for Mr. Matheson’s reaction—a frown.

  “Why is he wearing those clothes?” Mr. Matheson’s frown deepened.

  Reese put his hands on his hips. “Because Jude is going to be staying with us,” he answered.

  “No, Mr. Matheson. I just needed a change of clothes. I spilled something earlier, and your grandson was nice enough to let me—”

  “Grandpa, Jude is our guest. He’s going to be staying with me so you and I have time to work on the musical.”

  Jude wanted to argue, but the more he spoke and the more Reese argued with him, the more Mr. Matheson looked angry.

  “Well,” Mr. Matheson said finally. “You should let him cook. He’s better than you, son. He makes me that meat on the weekend, what do you call it? The stuff in the can I thought I would hate?”

  “It’s called Spam, Mr. Matheson. And I’d be happy to make it for y
ou this weekend.”

  “You ate Spam? But you always said meat in a can wasn’t real meat. You wouldn’t eat the chicken salad I tried to make you.”

  Mr. Matheson ate a couple more bites of his sandwich and chewed slowly. He swallowed the food down, and his expression became defiant.

  “Like I said, because Jude cooks better than you. He makes that spicy vinegar stuff that’s so hot it makes my balls stick to my legs.”

  “Oh, God, Grandpa. Enough with the balls.”

  “What? You rather I talk about some pansy-ass shit? Men talk about their balls, son. It’s a fact. Balls are a big deal, unless you’re a fairy.”

  Reese groaned, looked to Jude apologetically, and stormed back into the kitchen.

  “Maybe it’s not too late to have you gelded, old man,” he hollered. “I bet that friend of yours, Lefty, could tell you something about that.”

  “Why? ’Cause he was in the mob? Nah. The only thing he knows about losing balls is from the cancer. That’s why he ain’t an enforcer anymore. You lose a ball, you’re washed up. I might be losin’ my marbles, but I still got my balls.” Mr. Matheson laughed at his joke and slurped down the rest of his iced tea. His attention wandered back to Judge Judy, and the frown set back in.

  “Can you believe these two cream puffs? They’re fighting over who should get their poodle. What kind of man goes on television with his gay lover and fights over a dog? Where are his balls?”

  Reese stood in the doorway and frowned at the TV. “What does it matter if they’re gay? The fact is, one of them didn’t pay his share of the vet bills, so the other one wants custody. That shit happens all the time. It doesn’t matter if it’s two men, two women, or whatever.”

  “Well, don’t get your panties in a wad. Hey, do you wear panties? I know you wear them tight pants on stage and you prance around with them dancer types. Back in the day, when I played with Frank and the boys, none of that crap went on.”

  “Bullshit, Grandpa. You don’t think there were gay men in Las Vegas in the fifties and sixties? Need I remind you of Liberace? How you guys didn’t know he was gay is beyond me.”

  Mr. Matheson grumbled in his chair and stood slowly. “Yeah, well….” He mumbled incoherently down the hall to his bedroom and shot an irritated glance at Reese, who beamed like he’d won a playground argument.

  “Must you egg him on like that?” Jude asked as he took a bite of the sandwich. It was richer food than he’d been eating lately, but he was so hungry he would have eaten just about anything.

  “Yes, I must. He needs to be put in his place now and then. I can deal with his backward thinking to a point, but he knows intolerance isn’t tolerated in my house.”

  Jude ate slowly, uncomfortable with Reese watching his every move. He wiped at his mouth with a napkin and looked up to see Reese leaning against the doorway, smiling down at him.

  “How do you want this arrangement to work?” Jude wanted to get back to business.

  Reese’s grin was infuriating. He never took anything seriously. Jude started to scold him, but Reese shook his head.

  “I’m sorry. I was just enjoying watching you eat. I don’t think I’ve ever—”

  “Reese.”

  “Sorry. Uh, I’ll take the night, you take the day? I’ll get in some sleep early morning until maybe eleven. I work better at night, but I need to work with him on this musical in the afternoons when he’s awake. You sleep when you need to. You’ll take my bed, of course.”

  “Reese, you need your rest. I’ll figure something out for a place to stay.”

  Reese’s smile disappeared. He stormed around the edge of the couch and sat on the coffee table in front of Jude, resting his elbows on his knees.

  “I’m willing to be flexible and let you handle Grandpa’s care and call the shots about his schedule and shit. But I won’t give in on this one. This is your home. I never should have uprooted you, and I’m sorry. It was completely thoughtless of me, and I plan on making it up to you. I want you under this roof, and that’s final. Understood?”

  Jude slumped against the back of the couch and sighed. The whole situation was uncomfortable for him in every possible way. He was a private man. He couldn’t deal with the way Reese watched him and scrutinized his every move as though they were playing the high-stakes poker that Mr. Matheson so enjoyed.

  “You could have at least given me notice, you know,” Jude said, unable to keep the smile from his face. He lifted his foot and rested it on the coffee table next to Reese’s leg. Reese took that opportunity to pick up Jude’s bare foot and begin to massage it.

  “You’re right. I was completely selfish and reprehensible. I should never be forgiven.”

  Jude wanted to moan at the feel of Reese’s strong hands working the tension out of his foot. He’d been getting awful cramps in his calves from sleeping curled up and not eating his usual nutritious diet.

  “Who said you were? Just because I’m letting you rub my feet doesn’t mean I’ve forgiven you.”

  Reese smirked and hit a particularly sensitive spot in Jude’s arch. He flinched and sucked in a breath.

  “You’re so tense. It’s like you’re carrying the weight of the world. What can I do to bear some of that weight for you? I want you relaxed.”

  It was Jude’s turn to smirk. “Right. I think you’ve got enough on your plate. Your grandfather, this new musical. What’s it about anyway, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  Reese set Jude’s foot down at his side and bent to lift Jude’s other leg. Jude smiled shyly and allowed Reese to pamper him.

  “My grandfather told me a story once about when he met my grandmother. He was in Las Vegas at the time, out on the Strip one afternoon on his way to a gig, and he saw her standing on the corner. He said she took his breath away. He asked her to join him for a cup of coffee, and she refused—said she didn’t know him from Adam. How did she know she could trust him? He told her he played in Frank’s band, and she didn’t believe him.”

  Jude laughed at that. He could see the young woman thinking he made it up.

  “Anyway, she finally agreed to see him play that night, but she showed up with her parents. They were all in town on vacation, and they agreed that a show was a great idea. Her family was very wealthy, and they happened to be staying at the hotel where Frank’s band was playing. After the show her parents had arranged with the concierge to have drinks with Frank. The band wasn’t usually invited to join in, so Grandpa had to stay outside the VIP section, watching Frank flirt with his girl. He was so angry. But what could he do? So he wrote her a song. When the bouncer wasn’t looking, he snuck into the VIP section, sat at the piano, played the song for her, and sang his heart out. Her parents barely noticed, but she loved it. She asked Frank to keep her parents occupied so she could meet up with Grandpa, and the rest was history.”

  “That easy, huh? Seems like there would have been more obstacles.” Jude slid down a little farther and allowed his foot to rest on Reese’s thigh with his knee up. Reese bit his lip and worked his way up under the sweatpants to massage Jude’s calf, where the real stiffness was, and Jude laid his head back against the couch letting out a small moan. “You may continue,” he said, but Reese didn’t speak. Jude opened an eye and found Reese looking very involved with his current activity. He slid his hands up Jude’s leg and made long strokes that started behind the knee and ended at the top of his Achilles. Jude exhaled, and a shiver ran through him.

  “Cold?” Reese asked.

  Jude shook his head and said, “No. Just enjoying your hands.”

  Reese sucked in a breath and laughed softly.

  “Tell me how he finally won over the girl.”

  Reese paused for a moment. “He finally wore her down, I suppose. Thomas Matheson has some serious mojo. Grandma claimed that, once he wooed her with his song, she was hooked. He wrote many tunes for her, over the years, and she said she never tired of listening to him play. Her parents weren’t happy about their match, but as
they’d been fans of Frank and thought Frank could do no wrong, how could they deny their daughter the pleasure of his piano player’s company?”

  “How indeed,” Jude said, his eyes still closed. Reese’s hands were warm and so large they could almost encircle his calf. When he switched back to Jude’s other leg, Jude was putty in his hands. Both of his legs lay open and across Reese’s thighs, and Reese continued to massage him gently, but with a quiet urgency. Jude’s back arched involuntarily as he became more aroused. “I love to hear you play. You’ve got great hands,” Jude whispered, his eyes opening to take in the sight of Reese’s hands working over his body.

  “I do. How’s this feeling?”

  “Hmmm. All right, I guess. For an amateur.”

  Reese pinched Jude’s inner thigh and made him jump. Then he laughed and moved forward onto his knees. He slid his hands slowly up the sides of Jude’s thighs.

  “Tell me about you, Jude. Please? I feel like an idiot. In all the time you’ve been working here, I never knew more than your name and that you drove a shitty car. Which you do, by the way. I plan to rectify that.”

  Jude sat forward and slapped a hand on Reese’s chest. “You’ll do no such thing. I happen to like my car. It’s come in quite handy the past couple of weeks. You’d be amazed at the storage capacity of the Pathfinder.”

  Reese growled and reached for Jude, who playfully shoved at him, knowing Reese was stronger and loving the feeling.

  “You keep fighting me, and we’re going to have it out,” Reese said. Their chests were touching, and Jude’s breathing was shallow. His mouth watered at the thought of another kiss.

  “Is that so, Mr. Matheson?”