Authors: Carol Lynne
The O'Brien Way (3 page)
A clattering came from the kitchen followed by a string of cuss words. Sean couldn’t help but grin as he pictured Moby trying to navigate the kitchen. It was doubtful a man who looked like Moby had spent much time in a domestic setting, but Sean found the prospect of Moby in that role sexy as hell.
“What the hell?” Even sick he couldn’t push his attraction to Moby aside. He closed his eyes and tried to remember the ill-fated relationship with Ryan. The two men couldn’t be more different in so many ways. It seemed Moby thrived on being touched by everyone, while Ryan wasn’t affectionate at all, even with Sean.
The majority of the arguments between them had been Sean’s desire to touch and cuddle the man he loved. He didn’t need a psychiatrist to tell him he was trying to make up for the lack of affection growing up. Sean had figured that much out years earlier. He knew sex with Moby would be everything he desired, but sharing the object of his lust wasn’t something he could do. Moby wasn’t the kind of man even Sean could tame.
Why the hell am I even thinking about this?
It wouldn’t work, period. Besides Moby’s desire to do anything to bring in bigger tips, there was the whole mother issue to consider. Sean’s body shivered, but not from his illness. Ryan’s mom had been a real piece of work. She’d stuck her pointy nose into his relationship with Ryan too many times. Always calling to tell Ryan she’d had dinner with his ex and how good the two of them had been together. Florence Bronwyn had made it clear the first time she’d met Sean that he came up lacking in her eyes, and she wasn’t afraid to continually point that out to her son.
No. I will never put myself through that kind of scrutiny again.
The door opened and Moby stepped into the room carrying a tray from the pub. “Oh good, you’re still awake. Hope you don’t mind, but I borrowed your robe from the bathroom. I had to throw out the tea and toast Jay made, but I made you something else.”
“I don’t mind.”
Moby smiled. “I wasn’t sure if I should make you something hot or cold so I brought both.”
Sean looked at the bowl on the tray. “I have chicken broth in the house?”
Moby set the tray down and turned on the small dresser lamp. “No. I hope you don’t mind, but I drained one of the cans of chicken noodle soup that was in the cupboard and added water to it.”
Sean was surprised at Moby’s apparent uncertainty. “I thought you were used to taking care of sick people.”
Moby’s eyes rounded. “What gave you that idea? This is all new to me.”
“What about the cold shower thing?” Sean asked.
“I saw that on TV.” Moby stood beside the bed looking embarrassed at his admission.
“What about your mom? I thought she was sick?”
“My mom?
No. I don’t know if she’s ever been sick a day in her life.”
Sean leaned up on an elbow and reached for the water. He looked at Moby over the rim of the glass. Setting it down, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Why did I think she was sick?”
“I don’t know.” Moby sat on the edge of the bed. “I mean, I live with her. I came back here after Dad died to help take care of her, but it has nothing to do with her being ill.”
“Then why would you give up your fancy life in Vegas to move back to Sheridan?” Sean’s head began to spin, so he lay back down, nestling into the down pillow. He watched as Moby began to rub the robe’s belt between his thumb and middle finger.
“It’s the everyday stuff Mom can’t handle. My dad was a drunk and a control freak. He never allowed Mom to work or have access to money. He handled everything. I think it was his way of making sure she couldn’t leave.” Moby shook his head. “I hated that
sonofabitch
. They were married for forty-two years and in that time he convinced my mom she couldn’t survive without him. Then the bastard up and died, leaving her with a pile of unpaid bills and no way of taking care of
herself
. She gets his social security money, but with him only working on and off, it isn’t much.”
“Is she physically able to work?” Sean asked. He resisted the desire to reach out and comfort Moby.
“Physically?
Yeah, but she’ll be sixty-one in a couple of months. Who’s going to hire a woman that old who’s never worked a day in her life?” Moby sighed. “I tried to convince her to return with me to Vegas, but she wouldn’t hear of it. So I made the decision to move back to Sheridan. I hate it, but I love my mom despite the years my dad kept us apart.”
Sean didn’t know what to say. He didn’t understand a bond so strong that a person would give up everything. It must be a mom thing. He’d never had one, so maybe he just didn’t get it. Sean thought of Ryan’s unusual relationship with his mother.
“You think I’m a sucker for taking care of her, don’t you?” Moby asked, breaking into the silence that had fallen between them.
“No. I guess I just don’t understand it. My mom died when I was born, and I never had that kind of connection with my dad or brothers.”
“Sorry to hear about your mom,” Moby said.
With his stomach settled, Sean reached for the aspirin on the tray. “I didn’t tell you so you’d feel sorry for me. You can’t miss what you never had.” He popped the pills into his mouth and washed them down with another drink. “Is your mom affectionate with you?”
“You mean does she hug me and stuff?”
“Yeah.”
“No. But I know she loves me. Dad just screwed up her way of thinking after he kicked me out of the house. She’s slowly coming around though. I know she likes me to be home with her, so that’s something.”
“I guess so,” Sean replied.
Moby stretched out and felt Sean’s forehead. When his hand slid down to Sean’s cheek, Sean closed his eyes and leaned into the touch.
“I think your fever’s going down.”
When Moby didn’t remove his hand, Sean opened his eyes. They stared at each other for several moments before Moby eventually pulled away. “My clothes are probably dry. I should head home and let you get some sleep.”
“Are you sure you’re okay to drive?” Sean asked. He wanted to ask Moby to spend the night but was afraid it was the fever talking.
“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Mom may be able to take care of herself but
Jilly’s
another story. I imagine she’s crossing her legs by now.”
“Can’t your mom let
Jilly
out?” Sean asked.
Moby shook his head. “I didn’t realise until
Jilly
got out of the yard the first time that a large section of the privacy fence was rotten. Until I get the money to fix it, she has to be walked on a leash. Mom isn’t strong enough to control her.”
“Sounds like you need to enrol
Jilly
in an obedience class.”
“Yeah, I’ll get right on that in all my spare time,” Moby said with a chuckle. “Until then, I don’t mind walking her. It gives me a chance to get out of the house and unwind.”
Faced with the thought of Moby leaving, Sean reached out and rested his hand on the other man’s thigh. He wasn’t sure how to put into words what he felt at the moment. “No one’s ever taken care of me like you did tonight. Thanks.”
Moby covered Sean’s hand. “I find that hard to believe.”
“Nope, it’s the truth. As a matter of fact, if you didn’t work for me, I’d probably ask you out right now.”
“That’s another one of those O’Brien rules, huh?”
“Yeah.
I know everyone laughs at my rules but they’ve been proven to work.”
Moby readjusted the robe. “Then it’s too bad because I’d love to get to know you better. Unfortunately I can’t afford to quit my job.”
Sean nodded. “I understand.” And he did, so why did he feel so damn disappointed? He knew it would probably be the last time the two of them had a tender moment and he couldn’t let it slip by without one more thing. Sean pushed himself to a sitting position and pulled Moby into his arms. He buried his face against the other man’s neck and lightly kissed it. “I’d kiss you for real if I weren’t afraid of getting you sick.”
“And I’d let you if you’d felt like brushing your teeth,” Moby said, adding humour into the somewhat awkward moment.
Sean chuckled and gave Moby one last kiss before releasing him. “I won’t forget what you’ve done for me tonight.”
“Thanks for not throwing me out the moment I came in,” Moby replied.
Sean shook his head. “I wouldn’t have done that.”
“Good to know.”
* * * *
After his afternoon jog with
Jilly
, Moby started dinner. He heard his mom enter the room and glanced over his shoulder. “I found a great deal on pork chops so I picked up two for dinner.”
“I don’t like pork chops,”
Moby rinsed his hands and pulled a couple of paper towels off the roll. “What? We used to have pork chops at least twice a week while I was growing up.”
“Bill liked them.”
Moby turned back towards the counter and squeezed his eyes shut. “Will you eat one this evening if I make it?”
“Is there anything else?”
“Not really.”
“Then I guess I will,” she answered on her way out of the kitchen.
Moby wiped his face with the paper towel before tossing it into the trash. When he’d moved in, he thought he was doing his mom a favour by offering to cook a couple of times a week, but it seemed he always managed to get it wrong.
He opened the fridge and stared down at the pork chops. He’d been so excited to find them in the sales circular that he’d travelled across town to a different grocery store to get them. Unfortunately, they no longer held the appeal they once had.
Pulling the package out of the refrigerator, Moby started preparing them. After opening the package, he gave the chops a quick rinse before patting them dry with a paper towel. As he seasoned the meat, he decided he would stop trying to impress his mom with his self-taught cooking skills. From then on it would be pizza or take-out when it was his turn to take care of dinner.
As he worked to prepare the pork chops and wild rice, his thoughts went to Sean. It had been a week since he’d found his boss on the floor of the bathroom. The days since had been awkward to say the least. Every shift was a test of Moby’s control. To make it worse, Moby could tell Sean was having the same problem.
The attraction between them was intense, leading Moby to question the wisdom of
The O’Brien Way
of business. Quitting a job that paid more than anything he was qualified for in Sheridan just wasn’t an option.
Moby glanced outside and shook his head. The snow was coming down like crazy. He wondered if he’d still be able to fix the fence on his day off. He’d finally saved enough for the panels, which were currently keeping dry in the garage, but getting someone to help him in a blizzard wouldn’t be as easy. Jay was out of the question. Although he loved his new friend, he needed someone with strength. With the weight of the fence panels and the blowing wind, it would take someone with some muscle.
Sean.
Sure, his boss had the muscle he needed and more, but would he be willing to drive all the way to Sheridan to help him?
Once dinner was prepared, Moby walked into the living room to tell his mom. He was surprised to find
Jilly
on the sofa beside her. “
Jilly
! Get down,” he ordered, snapping his fingers.
Jilly
immediately jumped off the couch and went to her large dog bed.
“Sorry, Mom.”
“Don’t be sorry. I told her she could get up here.”
That was a new development. Instead of arguing, Moby went to the linen closet and pulled out an old blanket. He spread it out on the couch and glanced at
Jilly
. “From now on make her lay on that.”
“Dinner’s ready,” Moby said, heading back to the kitchen. He waited for his mom to join him before pulling out the chair for her. “Christmas is just around the corner and you still haven’t told me what you want Santa to bring you.”
Moby took a seat and waited for his mom’s answer. He watched her take a bite of the wild rice and nod her acceptance. “There has to be something,” he prompted.
Moby reached over and put his hand on his mom’s thin arm. “I’m sorry. I can’t bring Dad back.”
“Grandchildren.”
It was the first time his mom had mentioned her desire for grandchildren. He wondered if that, more than anything, was the reason she’d reacted to his sexuality like she had. The really hard part was trying to understand why his mom wanted grandchildren. Although she hadn’t been a bad mother, she hadn’t been overly attentive either. “Sorry. Maybe you should’ve had more than one kid.”
“I wanted to, but Bill said one was plenty,” she mumbled, cutting a small piece of meat from the pork chop.
Moby noticed she didn’t eat the bite, just let it sit on her plate. “I didn’t know. I assumed neither of you wanted more. I mean, it’s not like you really took the time to lavish attention on me.” Yeah, his bitterness was still in place, but
dammit
, hearing his mom say she wanted more children pissed him off.
“For what?” he asked, dropping his fork to hold her hand in return.
“Bill required a lot of attention.”
Although it hurt, Moby was relieved to hear his mom admit what he’d always felt to be the case. “Well, you have me now, and Dad’s no longer here to come between us. Maybe instead of resenting me for being here, we could try to become friends.”
have
to be here. I’m a grown woman who should be able to do all this stuff on her own, but I let myself get into a position that I don’t know how to get out of.”