He rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Sorry. She wouldn’t go for anything else.”
“I don’t want anything else either.” He sat down and handed Wes the gift before leaning back, his hands flat on the floor behind him.
Wes paused, looking at the package and then Braden. He had to figure what was inside, and this could be one of those moments were Braden opened mouth and inserted foot, but he didn’t think so. At least he hoped not.
***
Wes’s fingers begged to rip into the package. A passion he’d long since thought he buried flared to life inside him again. The urge to paint, that he hadn’t felt in so long, made him buzz with energy. At the same time, this felt deeply personal. This was showing a part of who he really was, who he used to be to Braden and his family.
But then, Braden had known. Braden knew more about him than anyone had in a very long time.
“You opening them or what, Wesley?” Braden teased.
“Shut up,” he found himself saying as he tore the paper on the first package. Inside were a few blank canvases. He wasn’t sure why but he flipped through them, as though each blank canvas would be different. They weren’t, of course, until...He couldn’t stop the grin on his face.
“You know what they say about assuming, don’t you?” he directed at Braden.
“That you get your way?” Braden replied.
“Great. What’d he do this time?” Braden’s dad, Bill, joked.
Wes looked at the corner of the last canvas, where it said, “For Braden.”
“I’m forcing him to paint something for me,” Braden replied for him. “Open the rest.”
He opened the other package, a bag filled with oil paints and brushes. His chest swelled the whole time. He wanted this. How had he not realized he wanted to do this again?
“I hope that’s all the right stuff. I didn’t know what all you needed. I’m pretty sure the lady at the art store thought I was an idiot.”
“Yeah, it’s right.” Wes set everything back in the bag. He looked over, holding Braden’s eyes. This meant a lot to him. Christ, it meant more to him than he realized it would. No one else would have pushed it like this. He didn’t know he would want someone to, but Braden knew.
“Thank you.”
Braden shook his head. “It’s not a big deal.”
“Yes it is.” The room was loud with laughter and chatter, but he just kept staring at Braden, kept trying to show him what this meant to him.
“You’re welcome,” Braden finally said with a nod.
“Who’s ready for breakfast?” Emmy asked, to which everyone started talking at the same time and getting up to head for the kitchen. He stood first and held out his hand to help Braden up. As they headed toward the kitchen with everyone else, Wes kept their hands latched together.
Chapter Twenty-Five
When Jessie had asked to go outside and play with her sled a little while before, Braden told Wes he had to help his mom with a few things, which he usually did on the holidays. But he didn’t have to. Still, he’d thought it a good idea to give Jessie and Wes some time alone—Wes especially. Though Jessie seemed to be doing okay today, the day couldn’t be easy on either one of them. He wouldn’t let himself push.
“Did your father show you the deathtrap on two wheels he has sitting in the shop?” his mom asked as Braden put the milk in the fridge.
“It’s not a deathtrap, woman. It’s a badass machine. Isn’t it, Braden?” his father replied, before getting a swat on the arm from his mom.
“It should be illegal to say ‘badass’ after the age of sixty,” she told him. “And don’t call me ‘woman.’”
Braden laughed at them both as he moved toward the dish drain to help put dishes away. He loved his parents. Knew he was damn lucky to have them.
“I have to agree with Dad on this one, Ma. It’s a Harley.”
“I’m not speaking to you anymore.” She stirred something on the stove.
His dad laughed, plucked a glass out of Braden’s hand, and said, “Wes is a good man. I like him.” Then he filled his glass with water and left the kitchen.
“It really does worry me, Brady.” She crossed her arms, using the nickname only his mom sometimes used. Braden nodded at her to come to him, and she did.
“He’ll be okay. I don’t even know if he really wants to ride it. I think he just likes saying he has it. And if he does, you know he’ll be careful.” Braden nudged her. “Plus, you have a few months before you have to worry about it much, anyway. I could always take it off his hands if you want.”