Page 95 of Shades of Henry
It meant enough to let Jackson in on the whole truth.
He finished talking and looked at Ellery expectantly. Lance had offered to come in with him for this—and so had Davy, for that matter—but these two men were relationships Henry had forged on his own, and he needed them to see him for who he was without the people who made him look better.
He’d expected to feel something—anything—when he saw Malachi Daniels again. Helplessness, rage, grief.
He’d felt all of those things, but he’d also felt… let down. He knew such better men now. How could he not have known Malachi Daniels had never been worth his pain?
But that didn’t mean he didn’t worry about Jackson and Ellery, his new bosses, men he’d come to admire. Would they still look at him the same?
Well, Jackson’s wrinkled nose and arched eyebrow looked familiar, although on most days he would have been pacing the floor instead of sitting in the adjoining stuffed chair in Ellery’s opulent office.
“What?” Henry asked defensively. “You don’t believe me?”
Jackson rolled his eyes. “Of course I believe you. I mean, I believethis.I believe what you’re going to give as your deposition so we can press charges. But man, I don’tbelieveyou!”
Henry relaxed a little. This sounded like the Jackson who would give him shit. He liked that asshole.
“What? What’s so hard to believe?”
“You! ‘I’m the bad guy, Jackson! I’m the bad guy!’ You almost had me fooled, you little turdwhacker. You were never the fucking bad guy, Henry Worrall. You’re a goddamned hero.”
Henry felt heat wash over his entire body. “No one’s a hero for taking it.”
“You’re a hero for walking away,” Jackson said soberly. “You’re a hero for pressing charges. You’re a hero for dealing with that for eleven years and still believing in the good in people. You’ll never fool me again, asshole. I know who I’m dealing with now.”
Henry’s eyes burned. “Henry Worrall, at your service,” he said, embarrassed. “Not much to look at here, sir.”
“Just a hero,” Jackson said softly, and this time Henry couldn’t argue.
THAT NIGHThe waited up for Lance, which had become their ritual in the past month. Lance surprised him by getting there a little earlier with a bag full of ice cream bars, which he put in the freezer as Henry got his dinner ready.
“Ice cream?” Henry grinned. “What’d I do to deserve that?”
“Oh, Henry, there’s so very much you could do to deserve that.” Lance draped himself over Henry’s back then and nuzzled his neck. And then checked his healing face and his knuckles.
“I’m not dead yet,” Henry grumbled.
“No, but I’ve got plans for you,” Lance purred, and Henry liked that thing he was doing behind Henry’s ear. He would like more of it.
“Plans, I understand.” Lance’s warmth was seeping in through his bones. “There’s a caveat.”
“We’re gonna get married,” Lance said. “I heard that last night. You think I’d forget?”
Henry set down the lettuce wraps he was preparing and turned in Lance’s arms. “You think I’d let you?”
“Nope. We’re going to have the full happy.” Lance’s mouth on his was sweet and soft, but it was still driving him up, up, up.
“Really?” Wow. From full misery to full happy in a short time. “I’m impressed. I didn’t think guys like me got the full happy.”
Lance pulled back and regarded him in all seriousness. “Guys like you should always get your full happy,” he said. “I’m just glad I’m part of it.”
“I can’t imagine a full happy without you.” Henry closed his eyes and smiled, tilting his face into the kiss.
Lance moved to trace Henry’s jawline with his tongue, and then whispered in his ear, “If I promise to eat later, will you wait for me naked in our bed while I shower?”
Henry swallowed hard. It wastheirbed—that still excited both of them. Nobody could come walking in, nobody could misconstrue Henry’s nakedness for them when it was meant for Lance.
Nobody could hear the things they said to each other, the way they talked.
