Page 108 of Resilience on Canvas

Joe looked over and smiled a crooked, wistful smile.

“What a beautiful thing it is,” he said, “to let someone take care of you.”

Robert’s throat tightened. He hadn’t never had someone take care of him, really. Had he? He furrowed his brow. Well, maybe his ma had tried before she passed, though even then, Robert had still carried plenty of family responsibilities on his shoulders.

Still, Robert couldn’t shake the notion that he ought to be the one taking care of the people he loved. But the broken, son-of-a-bitch economy was ruining that.

There’s more than one way to take care of people.

Joe’s words played over and over in Robert’s head like a record on a busted turntable, and slowly, but surely, the pinching pain in Robert’s chest eased up a little as he internalized their truth.

Maybe, just maybe, he’d have to settle for new ways of taking care of people for now.

Heaving a sigh, Robert snuffed out his cigarette and stood.

“I’m headin’ back in,” he said to Joe. “Are you comin’?”

“Nah, I’ll stay here for a bit. I’ve found myself missin’ the stars lately. Glad we can see some tonight. Even though the sky ain’t nothin’ like it was back in Guymon, it’s beautiful enough. In its own way.”

Robert smiled. “Alright, then, see you tomorrow.”

“Night, Robert,” Joe said with a wink.

After kicking off his shoes, Robert made his way to him and Henry’s bedroom. He found Henry sitting on a stool in front of his new easel, clean paintbrush in hand, staring at a blank canvas.

“Hey,” Robert said, making his way over.

He pecked Henry once on the lips.

“Hey,” Henry said back.

Robert moved to straighten up, but Henry caught his shirt collar and kissed him once more. Their tongues touched, and Robert’s heart fluttered, the little flicker of love he felt for Henry intensifying and burning hotter than it had been for the last week. Groaning into Henry’s mouth, Robert let himself surrender to thefamiliar feeling of want, and his cock started to swell. Thank God that the feeling of hopelessness hadn’t stolenthisfrom him. Not completely, anyway.

Before Robert could take things further, Henry broke their kiss.

“Were you out havin’ a cigarette?” he asked, a teasing lilt in his voice.

Robert cringed. “Yeah. Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Henry said with a warm, forgiving smile. “I know how things are right now.”

“Thanks, Hen.”

Henry released Robert’s shirt collar, and Robert walked behind Henry to wrap him up in a backward hug. He rested his chin on Henry’s shoulders, lust and love burning inside of him. Together, they looked at the canvas. “What are you thinkin’ of paintin’?”

“Mmm... I ain’t sure yet. I’m kind of tired of landscapes.”

Robert kissed Henry’s cheek. “Whatever you paint, I’ll love it. Everyone will.”

Henry hummed happily, and Robert pressed their cheeks together. Closing his eyes, Robert focused on the love and lust that were still swirling in his chest, and he let his hands fall to Henry’s lap. Even though Robert’s fingertips only barely reached low enough to graze the evidence of Henry’s hardness, it was enough to make Robert’s cock stir.

Robert had to finish what he’d started. He’d been so numb lately that he hadn’t really had it in him to be intimate with Henry too much over the last week, and now, with the feelings ofmineandwantrekindled by Henry’s kiss, Robert was overcome with the intense need to take Henry to bed. Because there was more to taking care of people than paying for things, wasn’t there? And Robert ought to be taking better care of his little wolf.

Lowering his mouth to Henry’s neck, he began pressing a series of kisses along Henry’s sweet skin. Pausing, he murmured, “I haven’t been the best husband lately, have I?”

“What?” Henry set his paintbrush on the little table with the paint tins. He turned to face Robert. “I hope yer kiddin’. I couldn’t imagine havin’ a better husband.”

“But I haven’t been carin’ for you properly.” Robert took hold of Henry’s hands and coaxed Henry to his feet. Robert then started toward the bed, urging Henry to follow. “I need to fix that.”

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