Up in Smoke (Hotshots 4)

“Me?” he joked, tipping his head back. Brandt might be more into having his neck kissed as an orgasmic thing, but Shane also wasn’t going to turn down some nuzzling from Brandt’s bristly cheeks. “And maybe the pasta.”

“That too.” Brandt inhaled deeply before nipping at Shane’s ear. “Can the spaghetti wait?”

“Thought you were hungry?” Shane’s voice dropped to a husky whisper as Brandt worked that hand of his under Shane’s T-shirt.

“I am.” He pulled Shane closer, rubbing against his ass, making Shane want to feel that hard length other places too. Spinning around, he looped his arms around Brandt’s neck.

“Maybe—”

“Aah! Aaah!” Jewel did this new thing she’d been doing, a sort of chirp that meant she was awake and thinking about crying. It was cute, her growing repertoire of noises and expressions, but he also had learned that the sound meant an all-out wail wasn’t far off.

“And hold that thought.” Brandt scrubbed at his hair before heading over to scoop her up. The baby immediately stopped crying, because of course she did.

“You’ve got the magic touch. She’s been fussy all afternoon. Her sleep got messed up with the band practice, so I guess it’s payback.”

“Oh, I don’t think she’s out to get you.” Brandt held Jewel out like she was part of the conversation. “Are you, Diva?”

“Funny.” It was hard not to appreciate Brandt’s silliness and all that brought to Shane’s life.

“I try. I’ll go change her if you want to serve the food?”

“Sounds like a plan.” Shane grabbed plates while Brandt headed back to Jewel’s room. He reemerged with the baby in a fresh sleeper right as Shane set the food on the table. Brandt dragged Jewel’s swing over to the table, setting her up next to him.

“Let’s see if this works so we can eat. Looks great.” Brandt’s smile made the effort of making a real meal more than worth it. “Tell me about band practice?”

“It was good.” And this was weird, having someone to tell about his day, someone like Brandt who nodded expectantly, like he actually wanted Shane to continue. “Jewel liked Tim’s girlfriend because she made silly faces for her. And the band’s not bad. Good people. They’ve been playing together a long time, all locally. And all covers, but luckily I speak fluent classic country.”

“That take talent or just twang?” Sparks of gold danced in Brandt’s eyes.

“George, Johnny, and Waylon just rolled over at your sass,” Shane countered before taking a big bite of pasta. Jewel squawked like she too was registering her objections.

“Nah. I’m just teasing.” Brandt lifted Jewel back out of her swing. “I’ve heard plenty of country. Just because my tastes run more eclectic doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate the oldies.”

“I’d believe eclectic. Your radio presets are all over the map. Reminds me of our house growing up—always music, never the same thing twice.”

“Well, some of that is bouncing around, having to find new stations in new places.” Brandt shrugged like moving from place to place was simply a given. He popped a lettuce piece in his mouth while bouncing the baby. “How’d you choose country anyway? Didn’t you say your dad was more into rock?”

“He is, but back when his joints would let him live the roadie life, he’d pretty much go with what was paying. We did a summer in an RV, out on tour with a big-name country duo. It’s not really overstating it to say I fell in love that summer, at least as much as a nine-year-old can.” Shane closed his eyes, almost able to hear the iconic love songs the duo was famous for, hearing Shelby’s tween laugh. “I memorized all the songs, bribed Shelby to be my audience.”

“Aw. Bet you were a cute kid.”

“Maybe.” He didn’t know what to do with the way Brandt’s face had softened, didn’t like how it made his insides quiver. “But what I really love about country is that it tells a story. It’s a storyteller’s genre.”

“Isn’t that most music?” Brandt transferred Jewel to his other arm.

“Sort of. With country, it’s more that the stories are all fundamental emotions and truths, and the audience is eager to come along on the journey. Don’t get me wrong. I can do some pop too, but there’s something raw about country. The rush of tearing my heart out, I guess.”

“See?” Brandt did an exaggerated eyebrow raise. “Knew you had a secret adrenaline junkie side. You go for those emotional thrills.”

Shane had to laugh at that, but he wasn’t wrong. “Yeah, that’s one way of putting it. Anyway, my dad thought the money might be there in pop or rock for me, but I’ve always had my heart set on the country charts.”

“Gotta make your own road.” Brandt saluted him with his water cup. “I respect that.”

“Thanks. Not sure he does, but that’s okay.” Shane stabbed his spaghetti harder than necessary.