More Than A Manny: Gay Romance Page 7

  Monday morning, Nate was finishing his coffee when Quin joined him in the kitchen.

  "Hey, Nanny Nate," Quin said with an evil grin.

  "Oh great," Nate said while Quin chuckled at his discomfort.

  Nate resigned himself to it, but only from Quin.

  "Just don't let the kids hear you," Nate told him.

  "We'll see," Quin said, refusing to commit to any acts of mercy.

  Ricky and Georgie could be heard arguing before they made an appearance in the kitchen. Ricky was telling Georgie that she couldn't take dolls to school. Georgie had stuffed a few in her backpack. Ricky looked to Nate and Quin for help, but neither of them was willing to go to battle with Georgie over that issue.

  Nate helped Quin load the kids into the car then waved to them as they drove away. Looking back at the house, he sighed. Brent hadn't made an appearance that morning. Nate left for his other job without seeing him.

  Feeling sneaky as he hid behind a curtain, Brent watched Quin and the kids leaving and then Nate driving away in his awful car. He had meant to tell him to use one of the cars in the garage. But the last few days seemed so full, almost overflowing, like time had multiplied. Brent decided to call that the Nate effect. Thinking back on their time together made Brent realize that it might all be too much. Brent had told him things that he never talked about. He was ready to share anything with him. It scared him that he already felt so close to someone he had only known for a few days. And if he was scared, then maybe Nate was too. Brent would want to run if some guy started confessing his whole life's story as soon as they met, unless that guy was Nate. To be safe, Brent knew he had to pull back or risk pushing him away.

  Brent was in the kitchen staring at his coffee and thinking about Nate when Quin came back.

  "How goes your pursuit of that manny?" Quin asked him cruelly, like Brent's face didn't tell him everything he needed to know.

  Brent only grumbled.

  "He's one hot package. Must drive you crazy." Quin was just plain evil.

  "Yes, it does. Stop enjoying my misery."

  "He's just making you work for it. That's a good sign," Quin said as he held out a cup so Brent could pour him some coffee.

  "It is?" Brent was suspicious because those sounded like encouraging words.

  "Sure. It means that he gets you. He knows not to give it up too easy to someone like you," Quin told him.

  "I don't like you," Brent said in response to that mix of encouragement and insult.

  "Yes, you do."

  "Agh. Everyone has me wrapped around their little finger."

  Nate parked in front of another huge house which didn't have half the charm of Brent's, and not just because Brent wasn't in it. It was an older house that had been updated in the eighties, after the professor died. Luckily the library was left untouched. Miss Pullman picked her reading material from the current best sellers and didn't go in there much. Nate started by familiarizing himself with the ins and outs of Professor Pullman's library, which was nothing like the Leightons'. Looking more like a storage room, it had been neglected for years, which was exactly why Nate was there. He had a quick look through boxes and crates and piles of papers. With a rough idea of what he would be dealing with, he came up with a system and got to work. He got so engrossed that Miss Pullman had to remind him when it was time to go.

  By the time Nate got home, the kids were already back. Nate said hi to John in the office and went in search of the children. He found them sitting on top of the kitchen counter with their feet up. A peanut butter jar and a bag of pretzels were between them. Georgie was already a mess. Her hands were gloppy with peanut butter, and there was some on her face along with the pretzel crumbs all over her shirt.

  "What are you two doing?" Nate asked.

  "It's peanut butter and pretzels," Georgie answered enthusiastically. "It's the best snack. Daddy showed us."

  "Did your dad show you how to climb on the counter?"

  "Ricky showed me." She pointed to a chair they had used to climb up there.

  Ricky was now sitting up letting his legs dangle over the edge. He looked like he was wondering if he was in trouble. Nate helped him jump down. He then looked at Georgie and wondered if she would need a bath. He decided to start with a wet paper towel. As he cleaned her up, he told the kids not to climb on the counter.

  "If you want something that's high up, ask me or your dad or John or Quin, OK?"

  "Brent is never here," Ricky said.

  "Not true. All of us are away from home sometimes. Even you guys," Nate told him.

  "He's gone a lot," Ricky insisted.

  Georgie agreed.

  "Daddy said he goes out to play with big boys. But he should stay home and have fun with us." That was Georgie's verdict.

  "Grown ups need time with other grown ups," Nate told them both. But he was curious about what they were saying. Brent wasn't home right now, but since Nate had started working there, Brent hadn't gone out that much.

  It was almost the kids' bedtime, and Brent wasn't back. John stopped by the office again to drop off some things. He as much as told Nate not to expect Brent.

  "So he only stays home that much on the weekends?" Nate asked.

  "Not any more than at any other time," John told him then he gave him a smile. "You can go ahead and feel flattered."

  It seemed like John was giving him credit for keeping Brent at home for the last few days.

  "Maybe he was just making sure that I would do a good job taking care of his kids," Nate said.

  "Who are you talking about?"

  "Come on, give Brent some credit," Nate said. He thought concern for his kids had to be at least a part of Brent's reason for being home. Nate could tell how much he loved them.

  Without Brent there, this was going to be the first night Nate would have to handle the kids' bedtime routine by himself. First it was bath time.

  Ricky informed Nate, "I'm a big kid. I don't take bubble baths. I know how to take a shower." He seemed very proud of this.

  "You'll be shaving any day now," Nate told him.

  On the other hand, Georgie wanted her bath filled with bubbles and toys. She brought an armful of toys and dumped them all in. Only some of them floated. When Nate went to grab a towel for her, Ricky had some instructions.

  "No. You need lots of towels," Ricky told him.

  Nate grabbed a stack of them, and Ricky nodded his approval. He was right. By the time she was done, Georgie's bathroom was flooded. Mostly Nate just supervised, and he still got soaked. There was no such thing as an innocent bystander when Georgie took a bath. He swore he would wear a rain slicker next time.

  Playing in the tub hadn't exhausted Georgie enough. Nate still had to chase her as she ran around in her pajamas. Once he got her into bed, she wanted to talk non-stop. She did calm down eventually. Nate kissed the top of her head since she was finally being good.

  "Kiss my nose," Georgie said.

  "Why your nose?" Nate asked her.

  "To make it warm so I don't sneeze when I'm sleeping and wake up."

  Nate kissed her tiny nose and she giggled.

  "Does your dad do that for you?" Nate asked.

  "Yes," she said then she made a sad face.

  "Do you miss him?"

  "Yes. It's nice when Daddy is here. He's funny."

  "You're funny," Nate told her and she smiled.

  He smoothed her hair the way he had seen Brent do until she was asleep.

  When he went to tuck in Ricky, Nate found him reading.

  "You want me to read to you a little?" he offered.

  Ricky showed him where he had left off.

  Nate kept his voice low and read slowly. It had a soothing effect, and Ricky was asleep soon. As Nate watched his peaceful face, he didn't know how anyone could deny himself moments like these with his kids. Brent was missing out. Nate wondered what kind of fun could be keeping him away.

  When he went out to a party or a club, Brent felt like he cou
ld wrap himself in its atmosphere. The exuberant, sexy mood of the place would become part of him. He would lose himself in the noise and movement and in all the masculine beauty around him. Tonight, Brent went to a party at the mansion of a friend of a friend. The pool was filled with guys fooling around. Someone was pouring champagne on one of the swimmers, who opened his mouth to drink. The dancers were out on the lawn, now brightly lit, now in the darkness. Brent stood on the edge of a sea of sweating, dancing bodies. He waited for the mood to seduce him, to make him one with the crowd. He craved the sensation, but it didn't happen. As Brent's eyes roamed the unruly groups of men, he found himself comparing every guy to Nate. There were better looking guys, taller guys, guys whose good looks shone through a crowd of guys doing their best to attract attention. None of them had any power over him. They would catch his eye, but they couldn't draw him in.

  Brent had been ready to fall into Nate's arms from the moment he met him. Being around other hot guys only highlighted the power of that feeling. After a few drinks, Brent found himself thinking that it was like standing at the top of a cliff, seeing Nate all the way at the bottom and knowing that if he jumped, Nate would catch him. How could any other guy compete with that? Brent resisted the urge to go home and test out that feeling against the real Nate. He stayed on and enjoyed the show. Men danced, smiled, sometimes came up to him. But Brent was only a slightly drunk voyeur. All the other men might as well be behind glass. Nate was the only one who was real, the only one who could reach him.

  Chapter 8

  After coming back from Miss Pullman's, Nate took his laptop outside where he could enjoy the outdoors and still do some work while the kids played. They were inexhaustible. It was like fresh air was their fuel. The screaming and yelling never stopped. When the laptop battery got low, Nate went in to plug in the laptop and grab some books. He met up with Georgie at the door to the library.

  "Ricky got a splinter," Georgie reported to him breathlessly then ran ahead.

  Nate wasn't surprised considering how much time Ricky spent climbing trees just that day. Nate was going to go back outside, but he saw Georgie go the other way, to the office. Thinking that this was something he would need to deal with, Nate didn't expect to find Brent already taking care of the situation. He didn't even know Brent was home.

  "So you do have some useful skills," Nate said.

  Brent only glanced up for a second. He was bent over Ricky's hand with a pair of tweezers. There was a bottle of alcohol and a bag of cotton balls next to him. A desk lamp was turned to give him extra light. Nate went closer to observe.

  "Looks like your dad has it all under control," Nate said to Ricky, who was watching the action through a magnifying glass.

  "Daddy knows how," Georgie said.

  "Pam showed me," Brent said as he carefully worked the splinter out far enough to be able to grip it. "Aha!" he finally said and held up the tweezers in triumph.

  Georgie clapped.

  "Yey!" she shouted and raised her arms high to cheer her father's victory over a splinter.

  Brent finished up disinfecting the spot and put a band-aid on though it wouldn't stay for long. Ricky examined the splinter with his magnifying glass until Georgie stuck her head in the way so she could see.

  "You could have been a surgeon," Nate told him.

  "That kid is a pincushion," Brent said. He looked from Ricky to Nate. He held him in his gaze for a while.

  "Do you want to know if I missed you?" Nate asked.

  Brent laughed then he just smiled.

  "You're nice to be with," he said to Nate.

  Brent had been good at taking care of that splinter. It wasn't a big thing, but what Nate had seen was just more proof that Brent wasn't hopeless with the kids, especially when they really needed him. Nate was convinced that Brent wanted to spend more time with them, but something was keeping him from doing it. He was here for now, and Nate wanted to make the most of it. That's why he charged him with helping Ricky do his school project.

  Ricky was in the small dining room with Brent and Georgie. He was trying to do his project despite their help. Brent mostly just kept Georgie occupied. While making sure some frozen pizzas in the oven didn't burn, Nate was on the phone with his mom.

  "A nanny? I don't know," his mother had said at first when he gave her the news about his new job.

  "You don't need to know. It's a done deal."

  She had called him every day since then to see how he was doing and if he needed any advice. Now she was quizzing him about the house, the kids, and Brent. As he was telling her all about them, the kids walked in. Ricky went to the sink to wash glue off his hands.

  "Hey, Georgie, you want to talk to my mom?" Nate thought that was one way for his mom to get those questions answered.

  Georgie came over eagerly.

  "Here, talk to Georgie," Nate said and held the phone to Georgie's ear, not trusting her to hold it. He prompted her, "Say hi to my mom."

  "Hi, Nate's mommy!"

  "Don't yell," Nate told her.

  "She sounds cute," his mom said when she was done talking to Georgie. "Send a picture. Can you?"

  "Sure. Here's Ricky."

  "Me too?" Ricky said.

  "Yup."

  "Hello," Ricky said shyly.

  "Hello there, Ricky. So how do you like my Nate?" Nate could hear his mom asking.

  "OK."

  "Just OK? Well, my Nate will win you over, you'll see."

  "OK."

  After that brief exchange, Nate took over again. When he was done talking to his mom, Nate pulled the pizzas from the oven and called the kids back to the kitchen.

  "I need you for a picture to send to my mom."

  The kids came and so did Brent.

  "Why are you here?" Nate asked him,"

  "You called us over for a picture," Brent told him.

  Nate relented right away.

  "I guess it's OK since there is no distinction between you and the kids." Then he had to warn the kids, "Hey. Don't attack the pizza. It's hot. Pictures first. Strike a pose," Nate told them.

  Brent took charge of that. He picked up the kids, holding one under each arm. They both wriggled.

  "Hey, no wriggling for the picture," Nate told them.

  Georgie giggled the whole time. Nate took several shots. Ricky at first looked down, then he looked up at the ceiling like a little martyr. He couldn't hold out forever. In the end, he smiled as he looked over at Georgie and then again while looking at the camera.

  When Nate sent the picture, Brent wanted to know what his mother said.

  "She said the kids are cute."

  "No. About me."

  "Nothing."

  "Give me," Brent said and took the phone to see what she really said. He saw that she said what Nate claimed. Now Brent texted her asking her what she thought about the guy. Nate's mom said, "Nothing much."

  Nate laughed and showed him the picture he sent. It was a shot of the kids in horizontal view with only Brent's middle and arms visible. Brent demanded that he send another picture, and insisted on choosing which one.

  "My eyes are closed in that one." For the next choice, he said, "Why do I look goofy? You made me look goofy." He looked at Nate accusingly.

  "But Ricky is smiling," Nate pointed out to him.

  That got Brent to like it.

  "OK. That one is good. I want that one. Send it to me." Seeing the last picture, he said. "He's smiling again. Look what you did." He squeezed Nate's shoulder.

  "You did it," Nate told him.

  They polished off the pizzas right off the tray. No plates, less clean-up. Brent seemed to be in the mood to hang out, but Nate warned him that he had a lot of reading to do.

  "I haven't picked a topic for my thesis so I don't know what I need. Professor Pullman had a lot of out of print resources. There is so much material to get through. I'm thinking I might do something on the mutinies of 1781 with a focus on the New Jersey line. Maybe the summary executions. That alw
ays interested me."

  "Sounds like fun," Brent said sarcastically.

  "My kind of fun, yes. I already found a letter in Professor Pullman's collection that refers to the mutiny. To have this kind of access, it's a dream come true," Nate said then he noticed that Brent was making a face.

  "I know. You have a hard-on for history. Instead of having a hard-on for me," Brent complained.

  "Don't be jealous of history. And don't forget, I'll need you to put the kids to bed tonight. I have a class." Nate pointed at the refrigerator door where he had put his schedule.

  "So this is like a favor I'm doing for you?" Brent said, ignoring the schedule and staring at Nate seductively.

  "Looking after your own kids? No." Nate tapped the schedule again. "Three nights a week I have classes."

  Now Brent did look at the schedule but not to read it.

  "Greta never let us stick anything on the fridge. She said it was unsightly."

  "That's what a fridge door is for," Nate said then he tapped the schedule again. "Memorize it."

  "Is everyone the boss of me?"

  "Only everyone in this house and that house." Nate indicated the guesthouse.

  Brent pretended to pout.

  "If you memorize it, I'll take it down," Nate told him.

  "No. You can leave it. Everything can't stay frozen in time," Brent said, but he still didn't look at the schedule, only at Nate.

  They collected the kids and went to the library. Georgie drew at one of the desks. Ricky was looking at a book about kangaroos. For a while Nate read while Brent screwed around on his phone and sometimes laughed out loud. When he did that, Ricky would look over at him. He managed to look both reproachful and curious about what was making Brent laugh.

  Brent was pleasantly at peace as he spent time with Nate and the kids. Other people could look after the kids – Pam, John and Quin – but no one else could give Brent the feeling that everything would be OK. Having Nate there put things in balance, like a seesaw with a guy on each end, lifting each other up.

  Brent looked over at Nate, so diligent sitting behind the desk. Nate raised his head and closed his eyes for a second. Without noticing that Brent was watching him, he went back to writing on his laptop. As he caught himself staring for so long, Brent thought about his plan to keep his distance so Nate wouldn't think he was some clingy creep. He wasn't sure he could pull it off.