“Usually. I have a feeling you’re going to prove me wrong, though.” He hoped Wes wouldn’t, but there was a small part of him who hoped he would. He liked that about Wes. He did what he wanted and said how he felt, and he didn’t give Braden whatever he wanted, the way most people did.
“I just think it’s a waste of breath. Even if I planned to fuck you again, it wouldn’t be with Jessie in the other room.” He could tell Wes wasn’t trying to be a prick with his comment—just being honest, and worrying about his niece.
“I know. Doesn’t mean it’s not a whole hell of a lot of fun to see you fluster, though. I think you need the excitement of having Braden Roth as a friend. You have to admit, I keep things interesting, even if it is just by pissing you off half the time.”
He expected Wes to end the conversation there, but instead he crossed his arms and said, “You flirt and try to fuck all your friends?”
“Nope. Just you.” This time, Wes did pull back. The look in his eyes sobered, and he went toward the kitchen.
Yep, he screwed up again. Open mouth, insert foot. But then, from the other room, Wes asked him, “You want a beer?”
Braden exhaled a breath and realized he would have been upset if he’d fucked this up and had to leave. The fact was, he enjoyed being around Wes. Enjoyed shaking his life up a little. He liked the idea of being the man’s friend. “Sure.”
Wes emerged a few seconds later with two open bottles of Corona. “Come on,” he nodded toward the front door. “Let’s go outside.”
Jock followed them as they went to Wes’s mostly-enclosed front porch. It had a porch swing on one end, and two chairs close to the door. Between the chairs sat an outdoor heater, which Wes turned on.
“Can you just close the screen door? I want to hear Jessie if she gets up,” he asked Braden.
“No problem.”
Jock curled up next to the heater as the two men sat in chairs. He doesn’t want to be alone, Braden realized. Wes would never admit it, and hell, maybe he didn’t know himself, but he didn’t want to be alone.
Braden had never in his life known what it felt like to truly be alone. If he felt like being around someone, he called a friend up and made plans. He had a great family that he was close to. People who knew everything about him and accepted him for who he was. Wes had the family who loved him, but he had a feeling Wes struggled to accept it. Those thoughts made him sorry for the man.
“Thanks.” Wes took a drink of his beer. “For bringing Jock and for playing with her out there. She had a blast with you.”
Braden swallowed a mouthful of beer, feeling the warmth spread through him due to Wes’s words. “Eh. It’s just because I’m probably a bigger kid than she is.” He turned Wes’s way. “She had fun with you, too.”
“I need to do that more often.”
Did Wes not think he did enough? “Are you fucking kidding me? She’s probably the happiest kid I’ve seen, and my siblings are working on a football team. I’ve been around a lot of kids. You’re doing great, man. Especially considering everything that’s happened.”
Wes didn’t turn to look at him, just stared through the opening in the porch, into the darkness.
“I built this porch for her. She was always cold, but it got worse when she got sick. She liked to sit outside but didn’t want to always be in the back. She was crazy, used to watch the headlights on the cars that drove by and tried to decide where they were going.” He paused but Braden didn’t speak, knowing Wes would continue when he was ready. “I know it’s random for a porch out here, but I built this so she could be outside but keep warm.”
The pain in Wes’s voice slammed into Braden’s chest. But he felt something else, too—pride. He was honored and surprised that the man would share this with him.
“You put me to shame in the brother department.”
Wes chuckled like Braden hoped he would. They were quiet after that, each taking drinks of their beer. It was Wes who spoke first. “Thanksgiving is in a month...and Christmas. How am I supposed to—” He shook his head. “Never mind.”
“Hey.” He realized it might be a mistake, but Braden reached over and sat his hand on Wes’s arm. “I’m pretty good at keeping my mouth shut when I need to. You can talk to me.” He brushed his thumb over Wes’s arm, enjoying the feel of his heat, his muscles, the tickle of the hair there.
“No, I can’t. It’s not you, though. I don’t talk to anyone.” He pushed to his feet. “I’m going to grab another beer. You want one?”