Hook, Line, and Sinker (Flirting with the Zodiac Book 1) Page 13

  “Sure,” Lawrence said easily, but his gaze lingered on Ty, some kind of sorrow, yearning in his eyes.

  ***

  “What took you so long?” Val asked when they stepped into the sand. Raoul was busy docking the boat. “Finally bang?”

  Ty shoved her into the sand.

  “Fishy’s clothes don’t fit,” Lawrence offered, earning another glare from Ty. He smiled apologetically.

  Val snorted, even as she picked herself up from the ground. “You are starting to look pretty round,” she said, then dodged out of range before Ty could make contact with her again.

  “He looks fine,” Lawrence said, and Ty paused at the rough edge of the silver-haired man’s voice—something almost sorrowful, painful lurking in his tone.

  What the hell was wrong with him? Was Lawrence going to dump him? Fuck.

  “The baby’s healthy,” Ty huffed, crossing his arms. “That’s all that matters.”

  “Well,” Val said.

  “Hey,” Raoul drawled as he headed up from the dock, “look who’s here! Papa Laz and Mama Fishy.”

  “Fuck off,” Ty spat before he could help himself, and Raoul just laughed, clapped hands with Lawrence. “How’s it going? Ty, you still puking every five seconds?”

  “Every fifteen now,” Ty grumbled, and Raoul laughed again. He nudged Val’s shoulder, and Ty frowned at them.

  “Things getting better though?” Raoul asked, something like sympathy in his eyes. “You were pretty sick, gave us all a few scares.”

  “I definitely got a few death threats,” Lawrence murmured, and Ty glanced quizzically at Val, who flushed and curled her toes into the sand.

  “I like you, okay? This baby thing is definitely Laz’s fault, so when you flatlined that one time …”

  “That was for, like, two seconds, Val.” The nurse had assured him it wasn’t anything more serious, that they were already treating the underlying cause. And he’d been fine since.

  Her eyes widened. “And for two seconds, I thought you were dead.”

  Lawrence grimaced. “I accidentally put her on speaker when she called. The entire office heard.”

  “Oh good,” Ty groaned, “so everyone in your department knows.”

  “Yup,” Lawrence said easily. “Miranda wants to give you a baby shower.”

  “Of course she does,” Ty muttered.

  “Yeah!” Val cried. “What about that?”

  “What about what?”

  “A baby shower! You planned anything yet?”

  “I’m going to be pregnant for another sixteen weeks, Valerie. I don’t need to think about that shit yet.”

  “You should,” Val said, lifting her brows.

  “Fine,” he sighed, “go ahead, plan one, I don’t care.”

  “You and Josie can plot,” Raoul said to Val, grinning. Then he looked at Ty. “Seriously, let me know if you need anything, I can always call Josie—”

  “It’s fine,” Ty muttered.

  Lawrence clapped Raoul on the shoulder. “So tell me about this boat.”

  “Oh no. It’s a rental. You’re not going anywhere near it. The insurance won’t cover ‘tricked out the engine and crashed it.’”

  “It’s fine, I’ll buy it off them.” They meandered down the dock, Lawrence peering at the boat, inspecting it as Raoul explained … something about engines.

  Ty had never been mechanically inclined. Val elbowed him. “So?” she asked, lifting her brows.

  “So what?”

  “Are you two doing okay? This is a lot of big change, really fast …”

  He shook his head and shrugged. How did he explain this was some sham they’d put together to satisfy the requirements of a doctored will? It seemed impossible. It sounded so stupid.

  He shrugged instead. “It’s a lot,” he murmured.

  “I can’t believe Laz was so old-fashioned as to marry you ’cause he got you knocked up.” She paused, then glanced sideways at him. “I can’t believe you wanted a baby.”

  He sighed, glanced down at his toes as he curled them in the sand. He pressed his lips together, then said, “I’m going for a swim.”

  “Coward!” she called after him, then, “You don’t even know how to swim!”

  Seventeen

  They spent three days at the cottage. Ty wanted to leave after that; he wanted to be at home. The cottage was nice and he liked their friends, but …

  He wanted to get back to his viola. Practicing. Doing something, anything halfway productive.

  He didn’t want to sit around on the beach talking about how his marriage was a shambles and why he should consider prenatal yoga and a water birth.

  He wanted to get back to his own bed. Instead, he was lying stiff as a board on a lumpy mattress at night, staring up at the ceiling, trying to ignore Laz’s soft snoring.

  It was too weird.

  They hadn’t talked about the night Lawrence had sucked his cock in the hallway. That had been the only sexual contact they’d had since March. And Ty couldn’t stop thinking about what it meant. Did Lawrence actually like him? What had it meant the other day when Lawrence had asked if they were happy? Was Lawrence unhappy? Did he think this was all some big mistake, that he needed to divorce Ty? Was their friendship over? Had this whole stupid thing made him realize what a shitty person Ty actually was?

  He rolled over on his stomach. He wasn’t sure how much longer he should sleep that way, especially not now that he could feel the baby moving. It had definitely been motion; that strange feeling had come back to him while he was swimming, then yesterday at breakfast and then again while they were playing D&D yesterday afternoon.

  Lawrence seemed over the moon about that; he’d been glued to Ty’s side, more touchy-feely than ever. Ty was mostly just cranky that nothing seemed to fit him any longer. His tees were tugging around his stomach; his shorts didn’t button right; his swimsuit was pretty much a lost cause. Val had mocked him for leaving his tee on when he hopped in the water, but he’d seen himself in the mirror beforehand, had to settle the waistband of his boardshorts under the swell of his belly. Lawrence had just grinned and said he had a “dad bod,” and Ty wasn’t sure if that was better or worse than being called “mama.”

  He felt sick when he thought about getting bigger, rounder. He’d known, on a cognitive level, what was going to happen. He just hadn’t figured on feeling anything about it.

  It didn’t matter, so long as the baby was healthy. And healthy babies grew, and growing meant they needed more space, which meant he had to expand around their baby.

  Lawrence liked that too—their baby. Fuck, if Ty hadn’t felt so weirded out about his own body, he would have been on his knees, spreading his legs any time Lawrence said that. The timbre of his voice, the look in his eyes—there was something possessive and unholy about it, like he wanted to own every inch of Ty’s body, and Ty wanted it, would let him have it, if only he’d say the words.

  He turned over again, knocking into Lawrence, who had apparently rolled over too. Their legs tangled for a second, and Ty kicked at him, trying to free himself.

  It was to no avail; Lawrence only cuddled in closer. He was like a heat-seeking missile when he was asleep. The second he found something warm, he snuggled right up.

  He wrapped himself around Ty like a snake, squeezing. Ty gritted his teeth and tried to shove him back. “Lawrence,” he hissed finally, shoving at the silver-haired man’s arm.

  Lawrence buried his face in the crook of Ty’s neck as he muttered a reply, lips grazing Ty’s skin. Ty huffed an exasperated breath and looked up at the ceiling.

  “Lawrence.”

  Still nothing.

  “Laz, you big oaf, will you get off me, you—”

  “Mm, fishy, no.” He froze as Lawrence squeezed tight, and if Ty hadn’t known it was impossible, he would have complained he was about to pop.

  Baby apparently didn’t think much of it; Ty’s belly was full of that fluttering motion again. “Law—”
<
br />   Lawrence rutted up against him, still mumbling something about “fishy,” and Ty’s heart skipped a beat.

  Lawrence was … dreaming about him?

  No, that was probably wrong. Maybe it was because they were in bed together, because Ty was the last person he’d seen before he fell asleep, or maybe he could smell him or something or—

  “Don’t stop, feels good, so nice—”

  Ty clenched his teeth as his sleeping roommate landed his hand on his ass and squeezed. “Mm, starfish, you—”

  “Lawrence!” Ty bellowed and managed to get his feet into his handsy bedmate’s gut, shunting him off the bed with a crash.

  A hand came up from the floor and grabbed at the mattress, the sheets. Then Lawrence peered over the edge of the bed. “Ty?”

  “Do you mind? I was trying to sleep!”

  “Uh.”

  “I’m having enough trouble sleeping as it is, I don’t need you humping my leg or—”

  The other man flushed scarlet, brilliant even in the dim light. “Uh. Oh. Sorry, I didn’t mean—”

  “You nearly squished our kid!”

  Now Lawrence grimaced. “I’m sorry.”

  Ty huffed and dragged the sheet over his hip, hiding his own erection from his friend. “If you can’t behave, go sleep on the floor or the couch or something.”

  “I can be good,” Lawrence blurted, perching on the edge of the bed. “I promise, I’ll be good.”

  Ty sighed, cracking open an eye. Lawrence’s hand hovered over his shoulder; he withdrew it at the last second. Ty blew his fringe out of his face. “Not your fault,” he muttered. “You can’t help what happens when you sleep.”

  He paused, waiting for his husband to say something. When Lawrence didn’t volunteer anything, he said, “What were you dreaming about anyway?”

  Ty didn’t think it was possible, but Lawrence turned even redder. “Nothing,” he squeaked, but his eyes gave him away. He glanced down at Ty, then looked away.

  Ty quirked a brow. “Well,” he drawled, shifting a little. He could pursue this a little further down the rabbit hole, see where it led.

  “Let’s just go back to sleep,” Lawrence snapped, then crawled under the sheets and curled up in a ball, his back to Ty.

  A moment later, he was snoring. Ty glared at the back of his head. Figured the asshole would fall asleep in two seconds flat, leaving Ty with both a raging boner and a raging case of insomnia.

  ***

  “You seem healthy,” Val told him the fourth afternoon, when they were lying on the beach, the wind in their hair, the sun on their shoulders.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” he huffed.

  “Just … you do. You’re sleeping and eating and not blazing every second to seem normal.”

  He closed his eyes. “Whatever.”

  “How are you and Lawrence doing?” she asked again.

  “Fine.” He was tired of people asking him about that. Mom and Dad seemed most concerned about it.

  “I’m serious, Ty. This is huge for the two of you. You’re married now, having a kid.”

  Ty shrugged. “We’re fine, I guess.”

  “Ty …”

  “What do you want me to say, Val? We’re friends. I guess we’re still friends, and I’m trying to keep it that way. I mean, that’s all Laz wants to be, so …”

  “Are you sure that’s all Laz wants to be?”

  Ty turned to glare at her. “What are you saying?”

  She shrugged, gazing out at the water. “Just that you’re not exactly the most observant person I know. Oh, look, they’re back—I guess Lawrence didn’t destroy the engines with his tinkering.”

  She took off across the sand, and Ty rolled over, bracing himself on his elbows so he could see Raoul nosing the boat back into the dock. He frowned at Lawrence’s silhouette, thought of the night in the hall, Lawrence’s mouth worshipping his cock.

  He hated Val sometimes.

  Lawrence hopped off the boat and moored her. It was just a little thing, really, but the putting and banging of the engines suggested it was overpowered now.

  Ty started up. “Ah!” Lawrence cried, nearly tripping over the mooring ropes as he stumbled across the dock. “Nope—you stay right there, fishy! I’ll come to you.”

  He plodded across the sand, churning some up onto Ty’s towel as he came to a stop. He leaned over, planted a kiss on Ty’s forehead. “Did you have a nap in the sun?”

  “Hn,” Ty replied, then got to his feet, ignoring Lawrence’s outstretched hand. “You didn’t destroy the boat.”

  “Nope.” Lawrence laughed a little.

  “You ready to go home?”

  Lawrence’s eyes widened. “Go home? Why—are you ready?”

  Ty couldn’t look at him, not with the word nesting ringing in his ears. “I could.”

  Lawrence glanced around nervously. “I thought we could stay another night, maybe two. I took vacation.” The fact that Ty had nothing to do at home was left unsaid. “Are you bored? Not feeling well?”

  Ty gave him a half-shrug. “I just thought …”

  Lawrence squeezed his shoulder tight. “Let’s stay one more night. It’s getting late.”

  “Fine,” Ty almost growled, crossing his arms and following Lawrence inside.

  ***

  Lawrence relented in the morning. Ty may have convinced him after not sleeping much at all; he still had Val’s comments from yesterday rattling around in his ears, kept replaying the night Lawrence had gotten on his knees for him.

  Normally, he would have silenced those thoughts with a toke, but he couldn’t, not with the baby, something his offspring was reminding him of with each subtle, fluttery movement inside him. If his restless mind hadn’t been keeping him awake, his restless child would have.

  Ty nearly fell asleep on the transport, then again in the taxi. He hardly recognized the city as they drove through it; he could barely keep his eyes open.

  When he opened them again, he didn’t know where they were. The car had stopped on a tree-lined street. The grass was green, and the trees’ heavy boughs were studded with big, showy flowers. Behind them were manicured lawns and big houses, some of them with lights glowing through the windows as evening came on.

  He glanced at Lawrence. “Did we get lost?” he asked sleepily, and Lawrence grinned at him, then slid out of the seat. The trunk popped open, and Ty twisted around, brow crunching in confusion.

  Lawrence and the driver were pulling the luggage out of the trunk. Ty unbuckled his seatbelt and slipped out of the car. “Lawrence?” he asked, clutching at the door.

  “Yeah,” Lawrence said, slinging his backpack over his shoulder.

  “The fuck is going on?” Ty couldn’t help the way his voice rose at the end, panic invading it when he just wanted to sound angry.

  “Welcome home.” Lawrence beamed at him.

  Ty stared at him for what felt like eternity. Lawrence gestured to the house at the end of the driveway. Ty peered at it, then back to his husband, shaking his head.

  “Surprise?” Lawrence sounded nervous now, the cadence of his voice matching the rhythm of Ty’s frantic heartbeat.

  “I don’t understand.” His voice was raw, rough. “What’s … Where’s the apartment, why are we here?”

  Lawrence rubbed his shoulder. “Sh, Ty—it’s okay.” He gestured to the house again. “This is our place now.”

  Ty nearly puked on his shoes. “What do you mean?” he cried, aware he sounded far more whiny than he meant to. “What about the apartment, what about—”

  Lawrence squeezed his shoulder. “When you started trying to clean up, I realized we were gonna need more space. And I figured, why let you try to clean that place when we’re just gonna need to move anyway—”

  “We didn’t have to move!” Hysteria clawed its way up his spine, into his throat. He could hardly breathe. “We were fine where we were, Laz, we didn’t need more space!”

  “Really, Ty?” Lawrence frowned.
“We had two bedrooms. Where were we gonna put a crib?”

  “In my room,” Ty blurted, and Lawrence shook his head.

  “Where? With what space? You could barely fit your dresser and the bed in there, never mind a crib, and then what?”

  “I could have slept with you!” Ty spat, then smacked at Lawrence. “We didn’t have to move. You could have told me. You should have told me!” He shut his eyes tight, but the tears came anyway, hot and fast down his cheeks. He tried to fight the sobbing, but it came too, wracking him once, then wrenching its way out of him, until he was howling on the sidewalk in front of the fancy house Lawrence had just moved them into, the cabby watching the histrionics as he set the last suitcase down.

  “I didn’t want to move!” Ty hollered, and he beat his fists helplessly against Lawrence as he hugged him. “I wasn’t ready, I didn’t want to, you should have told me!”

  “Okay, okay, sh. Ty! Fishy, please, calm down, can we just—”

  “I want to go home!” Ty sobbed into Lawrence’s shoulder. “I want to go home!”

  “I’m taking you home!” Lawrence bellowed, and Ty bowed his head and sobbed harder.

  Lawrence sighed above him. A hand wrapped around his, squeezing tightly. “Ty, please. Let’s go up to the house. I think you’ll like it.”

  “No! I don’t want to like it. I want to go home!”

  Lawrence dropped the backpack to the sidewalk. He scooped Ty up in one swift, smooth motion, and there was nothing Ty could do but yelp and cling to the other man’s shirt.

  “Put me down!” he cried finally, even as they were halfway up the path to the front door. “Laz, put me down, I want to go back to the apartment, I—”

  “You’re being ridiculous,” Lawrence ground out, and Ty wanted to be angry, wanted to yell at Lawrence about how awful and inconsiderate and rude he was being, but all he had was tears, so he sobbed into Lawrence’s shirt and hoped it got his point across.

  He was almost tossed over Lawrence’s shoulder as they paused at the door, Lawrence wrenching it back. They bounced over the threshold. Then Ty’s feet hit the floor with a squeak from his sneakers. He tipped his head back to glare at Lawrence.