No Sacrifice Read online

  Chance smiled. “I can’t wait to meet him.”

  “He’s going to love you,” Patrick said, looking down at his beer. “And Marcy. That ought to be funny to watch.”

  Chance laughed. “No doubt about that. She’ll melt all over him. Those curls….”

  Patrick grinned. “Yup.” He let the smile fade. “Jack talked to us today about next season. Apparently they’ve called Janie—my agent—about renegotiating my contract.”

  “Oh?” Chance asked, pausing with the bottle halfway to his mouth.

  “Yeah,” Patrick said, nodding. “I suspect it’ll be more money because….” He paused and took a fortifying gulp of Guinness, then signaled to Benny for another shot. With a sigh he continued. “Because there’ll be full nudity, though not frontal, I don’t think… and a full sex scene.”

  Chance stared at him. “A full sex scene?”

  Patrick nodded. “Yeah. As in, shot from start to finish. I’m fairly certain, at least, they won’t want to see—” He gulped. “—penetration, but….”

  “Wow,” Chance said, still staring. “I assume with Rhys?”

  Another nod. “Yeah. And this is where today got really bizarre.”

  “It gets worse?” Chance asked, and Patrick laughed.

  “Yeah, get this…. Rhys asked me to ‘practice.’” He took another long pull from his beer. Benny brought his shot, and he took it, finally looking over at Chance to see him still slack-jawed.

  “Practice?” Chance asked a bit weakly. “What… does he mean, exactly?”

  Patrick considered Chance for a long moment, and something clicked in the back of his head. Maybe he’d been wrong. Maybe Chance hadn’t been protesting because he wasn’t interested. Maybe Chance had been arguing with Marcy out of… embarrassment. His eyes widened as he considered his friend for another minute. Would Chance want… to be with him?

  It didn’t matter. The words came to him out of nowhere: You’re still married, idiot. And he took a deep breath, remembering belatedly that Chance had asked a question. He’d have to give serious thought later to the idea that Chance wouldn’t be opposed to… something.

  “Uh… well, I asked that, actually. He said he thought we should get more ‘comfortable’ with each other. When I asked him, point-blank, if he meant ‘making out,’ he nodded. I suspect, though, that there’s… more to it.” He could barely force that part out. He gulped more Guinness, drank the next shot, then waved to Benny for another. “I swear, sometimes, my Irish heritage annoys me,” he grumbled. He looked over then, seeing Chance hadn’t moved.

  “He wants you to fuck, doesn’t he?”

  “Yeah, I’m pretty sure that’s what he was getting at,” Patrick replied, shaking his head. “Where he’d get the idea that I’d want to fuck him, I have no idea. Reacting to physical stimulation is one thing—and you and I both know that can happen no matter how hard we try not to.”

  “Yeah, I know,” Chance muttered, and they both chuckled, albeit mostly mirthlessly.

  “Right. But… aside from that kiss today, I don’t respond to him. I mean, I did at first, but I think that was only physical, you know?” he asked, and Chance nodded. “In fact, I only got through today because….” He paused. He’d almost said because I was thinking about you, but decided that might not be the best idea. “Because I was thinking about other things,” he said instead.

  “So… you don’t have a thing for him?” Chance asked quietly.

  Patrick shook his head. “No,” he said emphatically and saw the relief in Chance’s eyes. He filed that away for later too. “Which also means I don’t really want to have sex with him. But…,” he said, frowning. “I also don’t want to go through about a billion takes on those scenes with Rhys because we’re too damned awkward with each other.”

  Chance frowned. “I can see that,” he said, sounding like he didn’t like it. “But….”

  “Well, aside from not liking Rhys like that, I don’t know how much I’d want to do with the man. Like I said, though, there’s a chance that if I don’t get more used to him touching me in ways very few others have ever touched me, I’ll piss Jack off and end up taking hours to get the scenes right. And there are two of them.”

  “Two full scenes?” Chance asked.

  Patrick shook his head. “No, thank God. Just one full scene. The other is supposed to be after we’ve just finished. I’ll be naked, but at least I don’t have to look like we’re actively fucking.”

  Chance nodded. “That’s something, at least. So… this practice, are you going to?”

  “I told him not yet, one way or the other. With the trip to get Avery and then out to Hawai’i… well, I don’t want to even think about it until after that.” He sighed.

  “Right. Uh… what… what about Emily?” he asked. “If you have sex with Rhys, isn’t it….”

  He didn’t finish the question, but Patrick knew what he was getting at. Cheating.

  Patrick frowned and swallowed. “I’ve been trying to figure that out all day.” He sighed again, knowing this one sounded even more forlorn than any before it. “You know, she never responded to her birthday wishes,” he said quietly. “Neither of them—Twitter or even the private text. But I know she was on both the computer and her phone. She sent other things.”

  Chance frowned. “What does that mean?”

  “Honestly, Chance? It’s pretty much over between us. I’m not even really sure it was ever there. Not… not like I would have liked it to be.”

  Chance reached out for his new bottle and drank it down. “So what are you going to do?”

  Patrick shook his head. “I go to see her and Avery next week. I thought… I thought I’d see if it’s just us having been apart or… if it’s really gone. I don’t know after that.” His heart thudded hard, and he was suddenly having trouble breathing. He stared at the bar and blinked when it started to swim.

  He felt Chance’s hand on his back. “I’m sorry. It’s never easy.”

  Patrick nodded. “Yeah. I… I thought… we could figure it out, you know? If we just worked hard enough, but….” He shook his head again. “But… you can’t force something like this either.”

  “I know,” Chance said, and Patrick took a deep breath.

  “I guess one way or the other, basic rehearsing isn’t a bad thing,” Patrick said, clearing his throat. “Even if it’s just kissing or whatever. Getting better at that together could only help. Anything else, well… I guess I’ll decide that later.”

  Chance nodded. “Sounds like a plan.” He looked over at Patrick and smiled. “Another shot?”

  “Fuck yes.”

  Chapter 8

  When the plane touched down at Vancouver International, Patrick breathed a sigh of relief. He’d been flying all day. They’d rerouted him twice, held them over once, and on the last takeoff, which was from Seattle, they sat on the tarmac at Sea-Tac for over two hours without moving.

  He dragged his carry-on out of the overhead compartment, then waited for his turn to get off the plane. He seriously wished he’d spent the money on first class, but he was trying to save what he could for when he had Avery with him. Day care alone was going to about kill him, never mind the fact that he was going to have to find another apartment.

  Patrick rubbed his face and tried not to growl. The old man in the front row insisted on fighting with his carry-on by himself, instead of letting the three people who’d offered to help him. But after five full minutes of tugging, nothing happened, and the flight attendant finally came back and simply pulled it out of his hand. He complained loudly, but she just smiled politely at him and thanked him for flying.

  Finally he was free from the plane. Once inside the terminal, he pulled out his phone and turned it on. He waited, tapping his foot impatiently on the moving sidewalk, wishing they’d figure out a way to speed up the ability to find a signal. The phone made its sounds as text messages and other notifications came through. He swiped his thumb over it and frowned when he foun
d one from Emily.

  Can’t pick you up, sorry. Reservation made for you at Enterprise. I’ll be home before dinner. -Em

  Patrick tried not to let the disappointment get to him, but he felt the stab from it. And yet, as he waited in line for customs, he realized he hadn’t really been expecting her, either. He thought, yet again, over the things he’d talked to Chance about the night after Rhys had suggested “practice” and knew he’d been right.

  He just wasn’t quite ready to admit it.

  He focused for a few moments on getting through customs, grateful the line seemed fairly short. He answered the requisite questions from the customs official: not staying long, only visiting, then was surprised when she recognized him. “Patrick Tearney?” she asked, eyes flying up to his face. “From Deception?”

  “That’s me,” he said, digging up a smile.

  “Oh! Could I get an autograph? My friend is a huge fan!”

  He had to admit, it did something for his ego. The smile on his face when he’d signed her magazine was genuine, and he was feeling better after he’d told her good-bye. He collected his suitcase and headed to the car rental counter.

  Traffic sucked, but he wasn’t really surprised. Traffic in every major city—even his beloved Honolulu—was horrible. He navigated the streets, tried not to get distracted by how pretty Vancouver was, and finally found the garage under Emily’s building. As he parked and climbed out, pulling out the key to her apartment, he realized just how he’d been thinking. Emily’s building. Her apartment. He shook his head at himself and tugged out his suitcase.

  The elevator took forever, and he rolled his eyes a little at her insistence on being so high. It’d made him nervous to think of Avery in an upper-level apartment, but Emily had assured him Avery wasn’t much of a climber, and she kept the balcony doors locked. He still wasn’t overly comfortable, but at least his apartment was only on the second floor.

  He left his suitcase in the entryway, tossed the keys on her hall table, and moved into the main apartment. He’d only been there a couple of times before, and it was very much her apartment. Her obsession for all things Asian appeared everywhere, and Patrick wondered if Avery was allowed to touch anything.

  Vases with bamboo and potted bonsai trees took up most surfaces. On the balcony Patrick could see a potted cherry blossom tree through the sliding glass doors. The dining room held a low black table with cushions instead of chairs. The living room’s only concession to anything untraditional was the very large LCD television that took up the entire space above the fireplace. The sofa had no arms, and the cushions looked rather uncomfortable to him, if truth be told. More cushions were piled in front of the fire around another low table.

  Patrick passed through the rest of the apartment, ignoring most of it, to find a note on the bar between the kitchen and dining room. She’d drawn a map and labeled the apartment building and, two blocks away, Avery’s preschool. Below the map, she’d written a simple note: I’m sure he’d be thrilled if you picked him up. I’ve notified the center to expect you. -Em

  If he wasn’t looking so forward to seeing Avery, he’d have been annoyed at her presumption. As it was, he certainly wouldn’t want to spend the remaining time sitting in her apartment, waiting for them, trying not to drive himself absolutely crazy.

  Within half an hour, he’d showered in her bathroom, was dressed again, and riding down in the elevator. After consulting the map once more, he stuffed it in his pocket and headed out.

  He found the building and glanced at the enclosed attached playground that was currently empty. He liked the preschool and had, of course, seen plenty of pictures of it, but walking in and experiencing the organized chaos was something else. He could tell the separate play areas were for different age groups. A quiet room off to the side provided a sanctuary for infants. To the left he saw two younger toddlers, about a year-and-a-half old, arguing over a stuffed frog. The worker hurried to them with a second frog and handed it over. The two plopped down where they were and started play-fighting with the animals.

  He turned to the main area ahead of him, but before he could register any more, he heard a shouted, “Da!” and was nearly knocked off his feet by an almost four-year-old ball of energy. Tiny arms went around his thighs, and Avery jumped up and down, his bright face turned up with a huge grin stretched across it.

  “Hey, Stinker!” He picked his son up and wrapped his arms around the boy. Avery’s arms crept around his neck and held tight. Patrick closed his eyes and returned the hug for a long moment. God, I missed him.

  “I missed you, Da!” Avery said, sitting up. “Are you home now?”

  “Yup. We’re going to be together for a long time.”

  Patrick grinned when Avery cheered. “Miss Ginger! Miss Ginger! This is my da!” He waved one small hand, and a heavyset woman with a friendly face and dark hair tied up in a ponytail approached.

  “Hello, Mr. Tearney. It’s good to meet you,” she said, holding her hand out.

  Patrick shook it. “You’ve got a great place here,” he said, looking around.

  “Thank you.” She smiled up at Avery. “We’re going to miss him.”

  “I’m sure he’ll miss you guys too.” Patrick looked over at his son, whose eyes were darting around the room.

  “I’m not coming back, am I, Da?” Avery asked, and Patrick’s eyebrows went up.

  “He’s an astute kid,” Ginger said.

  Patrick nodded. “He’s a smart one. No, Avery, you’re not. At least not for a really long time, if you do.”

  Avery nodded and wiggled. “I gotta say bye to my friend,” he said, and Patrick set him on his feet.

  Patrick and Ginger watched him walk fast across the room. He’d obviously learned to heed the Don’t Run posters on the wall. He caught up to a little boy his own age who had bright red hair, pale skin, and more freckles than clear spots, and was saying something. Avery’s friend frowned and shook his head, but Avery nodded again. He turned back. “Da! Come here!” He waved frantically.

  Patrick glanced at Ginger, who nodded permission, then crossed the room and squatted in front of his son.

  “This is Arnold. He doesn’t believe I’m going away.”

  “Hello, Arnold. I’m afraid so. Avery is going with me.”

  Arnold’s frown deepened. “But… who’s going to be my friend now?” he asked, and Patrick saw the meltdown coming, though he had no idea what to do about it.

  It was Avery who saved the situation. “Frankie will be back tomorrow! He’ll be your friend.”

  Arnold blinked at Avery for a long moment, then shrugged. “Okay,” he said, then looked up at Patrick. “Do you really think he likes me?” he asked in a loud whisper.

  Patrick’s eyebrows went up.

  “Yes, he does. Frankie already told you! Duh.” Avery rolled his eyes.

  “But…. Mama says we can’t be boyfriends,” Arnold said, and Patrick’s heart ached. Why can’t people just leave kids be?

  “Why not?” Avery asked, scowling.

  “’Cause Frankie’s a boy. She said that I gotta have a girlfriend, but….” Arnold frowned again and glanced at Patrick. “But… girls are gross.”

  “Well,” Avery said, frowning. “Maybe your mama will change her mind, Arnold. But I gotta go.” He wrapped his tiny arms around Arnold’s neck, and Arnold buried his face in Avery’s shoulder.

  Patrick felt awful. “Arnold, I have friends who are boys,” he said, and Arnold looked up, wiping his eyes.

  “Really?” he asked, and Patrick nodded.

  “Yup. I have a friend named Chance and one named Sebastian, and there’s Angelo and Rhys.”

  Arnold’s eyes got really big. “Really?” he whispered.

  Patrick nodded again. “Yup. I bet Avery’s right. Your mama will change her mind.” I sincerely hope so, anyway. Patrick had a very brief vision of Arnold as a teenager getting kicked out of his home. The kid’s maybe four, for fuck’s sake. It’s not like he really understands
any of this. He pushed the thought away and hoped against hope he was right.

  “Thank you, Avery’s da,” he said and threw himself at Patrick.

  “You’re welcome.” Patrick chuckled and hugged him back, standing when he managed to extricate himself from the boy. He turned to Avery. “You ready to go home?” he asked, and Avery cheered.

  An hour later, a big pizza filled the middle of Emily’s dining room table, Avery was covered in red sauce, and the three of them were laughing. He’d managed, somehow, to get a tomato in his hair and was currently trying to dig a piece of pepperoni out of his underwear.

  “I’m glad you got a chance to see the school,” Emily said.

  Patrick snatched the retrieved piece of pepperoni from Avery’s hand before it got stuffed in his mouth. “I liked it. I hope the one I find in LA will be just as good. Mama will likely give me plenty of advice.”

  “I don’t doubt it. When are you guys going?” she asked.

  Patrick looked at her in surprise. He’d imagined having to talk her into it, or perhaps give up on taking Avery with him to Hawai’i so she’d get another week with him. “Oh, um….” he stammered, trying to gather his thoughts.

  “I wanna see Tutu and Papa!” Avery announced. “When can we see them? Wanna go to Honolulu!”

  “Soon, Stinker,” Patrick said, still looking at Emily. “My ticket was for Sunday. I figured I’d ask and… well, I guess I can get his for then too.”

  “I thought that’s what you said. I bought one for him a while back so we’d get a good price. You can change it. I paid for the flexibility.”

  Patrick blinked at her and felt his heart sink. Geez, she can’t wait to get rid of us. “Thanks. I’ll get online and figure that out later, after he’s in bed or something.”

  She nodded and turned to Avery. “Speaking of which, it’s bath time, bud.”

  “Awww, but Mama!” Avery pouted. “Don’t want to go.”