Feel the Fire (Hotshots 3)

“Out.” Shoulders slumping, Luis shook his head like he hadn’t expected any different but was disappointed nonetheless.

Tucker had been about to say looking, but he figured he might as well address Luis’s implicit assumption. “Well, that’s where it gets complicated. I’m not out at work, no, but after Heidi and I split, my family was...damn, it was bad, the things they said about her, the way they treated her. Like she was a cheater and abandoning her duty to her family.”

“That had to be hard.” Luis shifted, moving his hand restlessly, almost like he wanted to reach for Tucker but thought the better of it. Tucker liked that impulse, though, maybe more than he should. He felt the warmth of Luis’s concern almost as surely as if they had touched.

“It was, yeah. I just couldn’t stand their assumptions and attitude anymore, and finally, one day when I was helping Dad and Aaron in the barn, I just had enough and told them it wasn’t Heidi’s fault that we split. Wasn’t her fault that I was mainly attracted to men and that she deserved a marriage that made her happy in every area.”

“Wow.” Luis fumbled his fork, narrowly avoiding it hitting the table. And wow was right. Tucker wasn’t one to get fanciful about single decisions, but that right there had been a defining moment in his adulthood, the point where he finally felt like his own man.

“Well...that went over about as well as you’re probably thinking. Nothing’s been the same with them since. Frosty with no sign of thaw, guess you could say.” That was putting it nicely, but he wasn’t going to let his feelings over their reaction join his already raw emotional state. “But at least they laid off Heidi, and honestly, it was...freeing. Them knowing. Haven’t felt the need to share it with the whole town or work, but it’s also no longer this...dark secret either.”

“That...that’s something.” Luis nodded sharply. “I know it probably doesn’t make any difference, but I’m proud of you. Standing up for her like that. Standing up for both of you. It couldn’t have been easy.”

Luis was wrong. It did make a difference, him saying that. Tucker hadn’t told many people this story, and having Luis proud of him made his shoulders lift, filled him with new certainty that he’d done the right thing.

“Dessert?” The young server, who had been blessedly absent during their talk, arrived to clear their dinner plates.

“I believe there was a promise of pie?” Luis grinned, seeming to sense that Tucker needed lightness right then, not more heavy conversation.

“Yep. Marionberry. Bet you can’t get those down in LA.”

“Not easily at least. Get a piece for you and I’ll taste it.”

“Sure.” Tucker placed the order with the server, who seemed to find their little exchange amusing judging by his small smile, and he arrived back with the pie and two forks in short order. The menu called it a hand pie, but eating it by hand would be asking to spend the rest of the evening wearing berries.

“Try it.” Tucker moved the plate to in the middle to encourage Luis to take more than a single taste. And again, he was unprepared for the eroticism of Luis eating. He took a small bite, but savored it, tongue sweeping out to catch the last drop of berry juice. Eyes briefly fluttering shut, he gave a small smile, one that hit Tucker low in some warm and sensitive spot.

Tucker wasn’t someone who got crushes easily and didn’t generally get turned on by random acts like eating. Honestly, Heidi’s textbook had gone a long way to repairing his self-esteem. He didn’t have a broken sex drive, nor was he a failure as a husband, two worries that had plagued him before he came to a place of self-acceptance. It wasn’t that he never got turned on, but generally it happened after he knew someone for a long time, a slow smolder versus lightning-quick ignition.

You know Luis, his body seemed determined to remind him. Yes, he did. But acting on the rogue heat in his belly would be ill-advised. They were only now starting to inch their way back to something approaching friendliness, understanding replacing the bitterness and old hurts. It would be foolish in the extreme to try to pursue...well, anything really. Luis wasn’t sticking around, and Tucker didn’t have a clue how to do casual. Bad, bad idea.

But that reminder faded as they split the check, body thrumming with awareness of Luis’s nearness as they walked out. Strangely reluctant to end the evening, he followed Luis over to his car—a sporty little red compact. No bumper stickers, but two figurines in the rear window—some baseball player and a superhero, same franchise as Tucker’s phone case.

“Guess I’m not the only one who liked the reboot.” He gestured at the window.