DAMIEN wanted to be careful, but Sionn had other ideas. The man stubbornly unwrapped most of the gauze he’d been bandaged with, covering the larger of the cuts with adhesive plasters and when Damien brought up the doctor’s warning, Sionn pulled him over until Damie was forced to either land on the man’s thighs or straddle his lap.
So Damie straddled Sionn’s lap.
He now understood when Miki told him being near the Morgans would bend his mind. The family… Sionn’s family… were in everything, touching very part of him… body and soul. Nothing was left unturned, from their teasing about Sionn’s enforced celibacy to cooing over Damien’s playing.
It was an odd feeling, having their closeness surrounding him, and he’d not been sure he could take it.
Staring at Sionn’s injured hands, Damien figured he could take anything just to be next to the man who made his heart beat.
Even if it meant eating a bowlful of the world’s worst rendition of succotash.
“Hey, Cowboy.” Sionn hooked his hands around the back of Damien’s head and brought him in close. Fitting his fingers into the spans of unscarred skin under Damie’s long hair, he guided his lover toward him until their mouths touched in a delicate kiss.
“Hey, Irish.” His lover tasted of chocolate stout with a faint aftertang of ranch dressing, and the scent of his skin drifted up from his long, muscular body, warmed by the sun they now shared.
If he had to put a word on what he was feeling, Damien could only come up with happy. Despite the terror and death, he was happy, and he’d be damned if anyone would take that away from him. Even if that someone was him.
“You doing okay?” Sionn asked between soft kisses.
“Yeah.” Damien burrowed his arms around Sionn’s waist, the lounger’s rain-retardant cushions scraping at his skin. “Fuck, I never want to let you go.”
“You don’t have to.” Sionn’s laugh jostled Damie’s cheek. “But you’re going to have to decide what to do about your… family. Well, your mother at least.”
Too much had happened between Damien and his father, but the man’s death loomed over them. The rest of his family had turned their backs on Damien, as if he’d been the one to drive Stephen to hire a murderer. After handing over his father’s remains to his other brother, Damien then washed his hands of the matter, shutting away that part of his life behind a steel door. His mother’s remains were another story.
“I think I’m going to have her ashes buried next to her parents in England. She really missed it. I think it’ll be nice for her there. Will you come with me?”
“As soon as you get a passport again,” Sionn teased. “It’s a hard thing being a dead man’s lover. I’m about to rent a hearse to cart you around in.”
“There’s a lot of room in the back of a hearse.” Damien lifted his head and wiggled his eyebrows at Sionn. “Almost as much room as there is on a king-sized bed.”
“Really now, Damie love?” The man’s intrigued look soon turned lecherous. “There’s a bed back there in the garage apartment. Behind those doors. And they lock, or so I’ve been told. What say you we test out your… experience?”
“What makes you think there’ll be… um… stuff there?”
“’Cause it’s where Miki and Kane sleep, and I know the sheets are fresh.” Sionn pushed Damien aside, then rose to his feet. “So come on, boyo, let’s go see if that bed’s as good as a hearse.”
Damien took one last look at his new life, surrounded by the people the world had found for him. Miki was leaning against Kane, their heads touching as they picked through something on the table. Off to the side, Brigid and Edie were laughing, his manager’s thin face wrinkled with a broad smile, and she winked at him when he caught her eye. The other Morgans were moving about, mingling with friends they’d brought and sometimes still sneaking the damned dog something to eat. From somewhere in the house, a stereo was playing Sinner’s Gin’s first CD, and Donal was singing along, his deep baritone rising and falling with the music.
He’d almost gotten the glass door closed when he saw the dash of blond fur leap up onto the lounger they’d just vacated and dive nose first into a plate Sionn’d left on the seat. Dude came up with a mouthful of green, turned around and dashed off, fleeing quickly as Miki shouted after him.
“Goddamn it. Who left the broccoli where Dude could get it? His farts are going to smell like rhino pee!”
“It’s going to be a good life, isn’t it, Sinjun?” Damien whispered to his friend, even though Miki was too far away to hear. Shutting the door cut off the sound of a merry chase going on outside, but Damie had his mind more on his lover stripping off his T-shirt as he climbed on the bed. “Yep, looks like it’s going to be a damned good fucking life.”