The Magic in Your Touch (13 page)

will
find that son-of-a-bitch, too, even if I have to call in the National Guard.”

 

“I think calling in the FBI and installing a NASA grade security system is enough, don’t you? And what’s this I hear about you turning Sasha into a pit-bull?”

 

“I think our dog is canine enough to take it.”

 

“Our dog?”

Brandon shifted so that he was looking directly into Nate’s eyes. “I know you said last night you were leaving me, but I can’t let you go, Nate. I convinced myself that you were only leaving to keep me safe. Was I wrong about that?”

“No. I thought I was doing the right thing. The idea of that bastard doing something to you is more than I can take, Bran.”

“Not gonna happen, sweetheart. I’m not going to let anything happen to either of us, Nate. I haven’t waited thirty-two years to find you just to lose you now.” He lowered his eyes. “That is, if you still want me.”

Nate reached out and stroked Bran’s injured cheek. “Oh, I want you, alright. What happened to your face, angel?”

 

Bran leaned into his touch. “Angel. You’ve never called me that before. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you call me by any endearment, come to think of it.”

 

“I never really felt like you belonged to me before. Now tell me what happened to your face. It looks like a concrete burn.”

Brandon leaned forward and nuzzled his neck. Even as bruised and battered as he was, just the heat of Brandon’s breath on the sensitive skin was enough to make Nate’s pulse race. “If you don’t stop that, a nurse is going to come in here and run you out.”

Bran stopped kissing him, but he pulled back only enough to see him as they talked. “Nate, last night. . .I thought you were running out on me because you didn’t trust me enough to protect you. It never occurred to me that you were trying to protect me. Well, it did, finally, but only after I’d made a complete ass out of myself. All those things I said—”

Nate carefully leaned forward enough to press his lips softly against Brandon’s. “Shh. I said things I didn’t mean, too. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust you enough, Bran. I was trying to keep you safe. I should have talked to you about it instead of running away. For what it’s worth, I had just made up my mind to come back and try to make you understand when my brakes failed.”

“It took me a few minutes, but I finally realized what you were doing. I had Amy’s number half-dialed in a desperate attempt to track you down when Sam came in and told me about a bad accident on the highway. I didn’t know it was your car until we were already on the scene. When I saw them pulling you out of that wreck, I just blacked out. You were so still, baby.” Nate’s heart broke when he saw the tears on Brandon’s lashes. “I guess my mind couldn’t cope. I saw you lying there, and I thought I’d lost you.”

He pulled Nate as close as he could without hurting his tender belly and spoke against his ear. “I can’t go through that again. As soon as they’ll let me, I’m taking you home, to our house, with our dog. I love you, Nate. I know you wanted to take things slow, but—”

Nate kissed his temple. “I think we’re past the slow stage, Bran. I’m ready to take our relationship to any level you want. I love you, angel. I’m ready to show it.”

Brandon kissed just below the bandage on Nate’s head. He pulled back and lifted Nate’s chin with the tip of his finger. “You know we’ll take this at your pace. You show me your love just by the way you look at me. You don’t have to prove it. But before we take this any further, I want you to understand what I’m talking about here.”

“Okay.”

Brandon took his hand again. Nate was shocked to feel him trembling. He started to speak, but Bran shook his head. “Just let me get this out.” He took a deep breath. “Nate, when I said I wanted to take you home, I didn’t mean just until this is over. When I called it our house, I meant I want it to be your home from now on. I’m talking your name on the deed, me taking out the garbage, us doing the dishes together, the whole family bit.”

Nate wasn’t following. “I understand. You’re asking me to live with you.”

 

“No.” “No, you don’t want me to live with you?”

 

“No. Yes.” Brandon raked his hand over his face. “Fuck, this is hard.” He took a deep breath. “I’m not asking you to live with me, Nathan. I’m asking you to marry me.”

 

Chapter 6

Before he met Nate, Brandon always thought gay marriages were for other guys, not him. He didn’t care that the state didn’t recognize them. As far as he was concerned, God made a marriage, not city hall. No, the reason he didn’t take most gay marriages seriously was because half the gay couples he knew cheated on each other whenever the notion struck. To be fair, he knew of several monogamous gay relationships, he just never thought he’d have one. Even before he knew about Jeff’s propensity for sticking his dick in anything with blond hair and twenty-thousand dollars worth of dental-work, Brandon never even thought about dragging him in front of the family preacher. With Nate, it was different.

It wasn’t just that he knew Nate would never cheat on him. No, he wanted Nate to be a part of him. Hell, Nate was a part of him, his other half, the better half. He knew it, and he wanted to share that knowledge with the rest of the world. In front of a hundred and fifty of their closest friends and relatives, he wanted to make Nathan Morris his, forever.

Unfortunately for both Brandon and his nerves, the object of all his desires and affections was sitting in the bed staring at him with open mouthed astonishment. Brandon got up and started pacing. Damn it, why wasn’t he answering? Was he just going to sit there in silence until Brandon lost what little composure he’d gotten back after nearly losing Nate—permanently—not twenty-four hours ago? No way was Bran going to let him get away with that.

“Look, Nate, I’m not asking you to wear a white dress and carry a bunch of daisies here.” He crossed back to the bed. “I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Look, you don’t have to answer me right now. Take some time, think about it.”

“Brandon, I don’t need—”

 

“Nate, I know I’m nothing like Rick, but I do know we’re good together.”

 

“How do you know you’re nothing like him?”

 

“Seth was kind enough to point out our differences that first day we met. Seems Rick was into caviar and Cristal. According to your brother, I’m more the beer nuts and Heineken, type.”

 

“I believe he said you would be more at home at a tractor pull than the opera, but I guess the reference is the same.”

Brandon sat down on the bed again. “You heard all that?” “One thing you need to know about me, sweetheart: I’m a notorious eavesdropper. I’m the kid who always knew what he was getting for Christmas. I heard most everything Seth said to you. For the record, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about. He only saw Rick a handful of times. He didn’t even know we were anything more than friends until that last night, and you know how well that turned out.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you heard us?”

Nate gave him that sexy smile again. “And admit I couldn’t come into the room and blast my brother for what he said because I was standing in the hall crying like a six-year-old kid? That’s exactly what I started doing when I heard you promising dire retribution if he hurt me again. No one’s ever taken up for me like that before. Well, except for Amy, but she fights like a girl. Anyway, I didn’t mention it because I wasn’t about to dignify Seth’s stupid comparisons by acknowledging them. I was with Rick ten times longer than I’ve been with you, but I never felt for him anything close to what you make me feel.” Nate leaned back against the pillows and patted the bed. “Here, lay down next to me.”

“No. I’m too big. There’s not enough room.”

 

“There is if you lay real close.”

 

“I might hurt you.”

 

The trust in Nate’s eyes was humbling. “Never in a million years. Please, Bran. I love you. I need you.”

That was all it took. Brandon eased Nate over and into his arms, then scooted down beside him. Nate snuggled close and laid his head on Brandon’s chest, his broken arm resting on his side. “Umm, that’s much better.”

Brandon kissed the top of his head. “So, if you love me so much, and I’m such a great catch, how come you haven’t answered my question yet?”

 

“I was going to when you freaked out on me.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve never proposed before. Forgive me for being a little anxious.” He ran his fingers along Nate’s spine, delighting in the shivers he caused. “Now, for the love of God, quit stalling and answer the damn question.”

“I’m not stalling. I’m about to begin negotiations.”

 

Brandon smiled. Only Nathan Morris could turn a marriage proposal into a meeting of the minds. God, he loved that man. “I assume this is the point where I ask you what your demands are, right?”

“Right. They’re pretty simple actually. I want to be married in the church you and your family go to. This marriage is going to be forever. We’re only going to do it once, so we might as well do it right. I was raised in the church, but I haven’t been since my parents and I parted ways. Even through all that, though, I never really lost my faith. I think we should begin our new family by going together. Do you think your minister will marry us?”

“Pastor Oakley has a son who’s gay, so he’s pretty open minded about it. The whole church is, really. I think you’ll like it there. It’s the First Christian Church of Reed, but we have all denominations in the congregation. We’ll have to do pre-marriage counseling, though. Church rules.”
“I don’t mind. It sounds nice actually, especially if it means having our marriage formally blessed. Which brings me to my second point: I’ve known gay couples who refer to each other as partners. There’s nothing wrong with that, but we’re partners now. When we say our vows, you’ll be my husband. I don’t care what the state says. We’ll be just as married as any other couple. You’ll be my husband, and that’s what I’m going to call you.”

“The first two demands sound pretty damn nice. Number three isn’t where you tell me you want a bachelor party with a male stripper, is it? You know how jealous I get.”

 

“No, but you may not like it.” He paused. “I want my brother to stand up for me.”

 

A few days ago, Bran might have fought him on that one. Instead, he said, “As long as you make him wear one of those puffy pink dresses with all the lace, I’m fine with it.”

 

Nate chuckled, then clutched his stomach. “Don’t make me laugh. It hurts.”

 

“Let me call the nurse and get you some pain medicine.”

 

“No. I’m not done with you yet. We still have to go over numbers four and five before we seal the deal.”

 

“Okay. Let’s hear them.”

 

“Four is one of the most important. I want kids, lots of them, to fill up that big house of yours.”

 

“It’s our house, and I’m more than willing. Hell, I’ll get you pregnant right now if you want me to.”

 

“You’re a sick man, Brandon Nash, and I love you more than life itself. That brings me to number five. I want to get married on a weekday morning.”

 

“Honey, are you sure they slacked off on your medication? You aren’t making any sense. What does loving me more than life itself have to do with getting married on a weekday morning?”

Nate tugged at Brandon until Bran was positioned over him, looking down at his face. Brandon’s breath caught in his throat when he saw the love sparkling in Nate’s eyes. Nate’s voice was little more than a whisper and shaking with emotion. “Because, the minute we say our vows and the minister pronounces us as one, I’m going down to city hall and having my last name changed. I want to take your name, Bran. I want the whole world to know who I belong to.”

Brandon gathered him close and let the tears fall. He whispered to him, nonsense words of love and commitment. After a few minutes, he pulled him into a gentle but promising kiss. The sound of applause broke them apart.

Six nurses stood at the door, alternately smiling and sobbing. One of them, an older woman who reminded Brandon of his Aunt Larine, said, “That was the most beautiful proposal and acceptance I ever heard.”

Brandon said, “You heard the whole thing?”

A red-headed aide pointed to the railing at Nate’s back. “Next time you want privacy, make sure your sweetie’s rear-end isn’t jammed against the intercom button. She gave a deep sigh. “The part about him taking your name just did me in. Why are all the good guys gay?”
A blue-eyed blond in pink scrubs spoke to Nate. “The cutest thing was the way he went all nervous because you didn’t answer him fast enough. Your boyfriend is one special guy, Dr. Morris.”

Nate reached up and stroked Brandon’s face. “He’s not my boyfriend, anymore. He’s my fiancé.”

 

* * *

Nate always thought loving families like the Nash’s only existed in T.V. reruns. The forest of plants in his room and the string of visitors he’d had since his accident four days ago blew that theory out of the water. From the minute visiting hours started at nine a.m. until they ended twelve hours later, Nate was bombarded by his future in-laws. He had to admit, he was enjoying the attention. Between Gale and Grandma Taylor, he hadn’t eaten a single bite of hospital food since he’d been bumped up to solids. They either brought or sent home-cooked meals every six hours. Brandon had started timing his visits to coincide with mealtime.

Seth was also a fixture at the hospital. Though Nate kept giving him a hard time about going back to school, he had to admit he was enjoying having his brother back in his life. He and Seth had spent long hours since the accident putting their relationship back together. The only thing they disagreed on nowadays were their parents.

“I still think you should call them,” Seth had said during a marathon of conversation and the mint-chocolate-chip ice cream he’d smuggled in. Nate had to give him credit though. The minute he’d refused, Seth had dropped it. For the last two days, Seth had been too excited about the pending arrival of his boyfriend, Phillip, to bring it up again.

Nate leaned back against his pillows and looked at the clock on the far wall. It was almost six and Bran should have been here by now. He hadn’t wanted to go back to work at all until Nate was released, but he’d finally rationalized the necessity by saying he was saving up for a long honeymoon. He was adamant about not using a dime of Nate’s trust fund. Brandon was so old-fashioned, Nate was surprised he didn’t ask him to quit working all together so Bran could support him. Maybe once the kids came along, he would move his office to the house. For now, he was looking forward to just being able to shower by himself, much less going back to work.