Page 15 of All The Things: The Last Thing He Needs Omnibus

Wyatt looked relieved, smiling as he asked, “Oh, is his bark worse than his bite?”

It might have been the loud “ha!” from Bobby or the sharp look on Tommy’s face. Maybe it was the way Colleen grabbed Wyatt’s arm and started to pull him out the door. But when they left, Tommy felt sure Colleen would be coming home safe and sound long before dawn.

Tommy watched out the window as Colleen and Wyatt went down the shabby walkway and ducked into the limo together.

Bobby’s voice sounded over his shoulder. “You remind me of an overprotective father cleaning his shotgun in front of his daughter’s date.”

“If he hurts her, I’m not gonna shoot him. That’d be over too quick.”

“I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear that.”

“You should probably do that more often than not around here.”

By ten o’clock, the house was clean, the kids were all in their rooms, and the twins were sound asleep. The evening had been nice, though Tommy hated to admit it. They finished dinner as a family after Colleen left. Bobby was the star of the show, talking to the kids and helping Max and Zoe with their food. They all did the dishes together, laughing and telling stories, making the job take a lot longer than necessary. But every time Bobby picked up one of the twins or helped Davey with his homework, Tommy was flooded with a number of emotions, some of which he didn’t even want to name. A twinge of jealousy itched inside him, as he wasn’t used to other people butting in when it came to the kids. He felt traces of contentment, too, which he didn’t want to look at. There was even a little longing as they played house together.

Tommy found it harder and harder to remind himself that Bobby wasn’t just a friend, but a cop. Even if he were gay—which Tommy was starting to wonder about—Bobby was off-limits in more ways than one.

Now with the house so quiet it almost felt empty, the lights dimmed, and the soft glow of the television keeping them company, Tommy and Bobby relaxed on the couch together. One of the action movies Bobby had brought over played in the background as they talked.

“Where’s your folks?” Bobby stretched out a little more, his arm on the back of the couch nearly wrapping around Tommy’s shoulders.

Tommy snorted a laugh, willing himself not to lean closer to Bobby. “Who the hell knows? They haven’t been around for a couple days.”

“Did you file a missing persons?” When Tommy cut an incredulous look in his direction, Bobby laughed. “Never mind, stupid question.”

“It’s always nice when they take off for a while,” Tommy said slowly, holding a bottle of imported beer in his hand, picking at the label. “But it’s like…. I get everything all set up and on track and we’re doing good, ya know? Then they come back, and it’s a fuckin’ disaster again.”

Bobby took a long pull off his own beer before setting it down on the table. When he shifted to do that, Tommy couldn’t help but notice they were closer on the couch than they had been.

“Your situation is unfair on a lot of levels, Tom.”

Breathing a soft laugh, Tommy took a swig then said, “You’re tellin’ me. But no one ever said life was fair, right?”

“True,” Bobby whispered, looking at him again. “Do you have any other family? Aunts or uncles or anyone that might be able to… help?”

Tommy laughed again, loving and hating at the same time the way Bobby always wanted to fix things, fix them. “Between Pop and my mom, there’s about a dozen aunts and uncles all over the country, and believe it or not, Cal and my mom, at least before she died, are the best of all of them.”

Bobby seemed like he couldn’t stop himself from asking, “How is that even possible?”

Tommy laughed loudly then. “Your guess is as good as mine.” He went on to explain, “There’s at least two on sex-offender registries, couple more serving time for petty shit. Oh, except for my uncle on my mother’s side—he’s doing four life sentences for killing a family for twenty-seven dollars. My grandma on my mother’s side has been dead for over a decade, and the best thing I can say about her is that we’re not homeless.” He lifted his hand and waved vaguely around the room. “I come from a long line of users and abusers, Bobby. You should run now while you still can.”

Bobby’s expression was unreadable, and Tommy wasn’t sure what to say after that. They sat in silence for a moment before Bobby spoke again.

“That might be where you came from, Tom, but it’s not where you’re gonna end up.”

His voice was rough and quiet, sounding to Tommy like he was overwhelmed with emotion, though it didn’t show on Bobby’s face.

“I’m not a betting man, but if I were, I’d put every dime on you and those kids.”

Before Tommy could respond to that, Bobby stood abruptly and went into the kitchen.

By the time Bobby came back, Tommy had switched movies. His beer was warm in his hand and his pulse thrummed through his veins like a freight train. He couldn’t figure out why being around Bobby was such a mix of terror and comfort. He couldn’t deny being attracted to Bobby, but he was attracted to a lot of guys. He couldn’t deny being a little cautious too, considering what Bobby did for a living. But hearing from someone like Bobby that he and the kids were worth betting on, worth taking a chance on, did things to Tommy, and he hated it.

“Did I miss the end?” Bobby asked, standing over Tommy and passing him a fresh beer and a bag of chips.

Confused at the question, Tommy glanced up at him as he took the offered beer. “Huh?” Bobby quirked another one of those half smiles and nodded at the television. “Oh yeah, figured I’d put in the other one,” Tommy said, reaching for the remote and hitting the play button.

When Bobby sat down again, he didn’t settle on the opposite side of the couch as he had earlier. Instead he was close to Tommy, not quite touching, but within reach. Tommy felt a surge of panic rise in him and grabbed a handful of chips. “I’m gonna get a gut if I keep hanging out with you.” He was trying to joke, trying to find his footing again, but it wasn’t working very well.

---