So Laddin pressed his forehead to Bruce’s. They were eye to eye, nose to nose, and when he spoke, the words felt like they were for Bruce alone. The nightmare to their right or the disasters going on all around them, melted into the background.
“I love you,” Laddin said.
Bruce grimaced and tried to pull away. “That’s not going to work. We need to sing something. ‘Happy Birthday’ or ‘Good Vibrations.’” They were the only two songs he could think of right then.
“It’s not working because you don’t believe it,” Laddin said. “Why don’t you think I love you?”
Bruce took a moment to focus. Was Laddin really trying to have a serious conversation while evil kangaroos were dashing around? Apparently he was, because his expression was fierce and he wasn’t letting Bruce look away.
“Because you’re just saying that. It’s not real.”
Laddin glared at him. Then he abruptly flattened his hand on Bruce’s chest. “Feel this, you idiot. It is real!”
Now that sounded like true emotion. Irritation and annoyance. Bruce heard it but then felt something else—a current of power feeding back to him through Laddin’s palm. What energy he fed Laddin was coming back to him even stronger.
“I love you,” Laddin said, conviction in his voice.
“Right,” Bruce echoed. “You love me. And I love you.” He threw that last part in, hoping it would do what was needed. But all he had to do was listen to know that the demon wasn’t any smaller or quieter.
“You don’t believe me,” Laddin said, frustration clear in his tone. “Why can’t you feel it?”
He did feel it—warmth, power, and affection. “We have to try something else.”
Laddin shook his head. “This is the answer, but you have to believe it.”
Bruce nodded, and he tried. He really wanted to believe, but he wasn’t the kind of guy someone could love. He was the guy women fucked and the guy who ran into burning buildings for your kid. He was the one people hugged with tearful gratitude, then forgot five minutes later. And at night he was the guy who went home to an empty apartment in a crappy area of town.
He was the also the one who hurt his own brother when he was angry at his father. That wasn’t someone to love. That was someone you thanked for saving your kid—on the lucky days he managed it—and then walked away from. He just lived. And that was the truth.
“I love you,” Laddin repeated. “You think I’m bullshitting you, but this is it. It’s real love. And do you know how I know that?”
Bruch shook his head.
“Because I want a future with you. I’ve been thinking about what we could do after this is all over.” He took a breath. “I don’t want work in the field.”
Bruce felt his lips curve. Laddin’s neat-freak side would make working in this kind of chaos impossible.
“I thought I wanted to go home back to my old life. I do, but I want you more, and you’re here, not in LA. So I thought we could get a place in Michigan where I can work with Captain M and keep things in order for the field teams. They need someone who makes things tidy so they can do their jobs.”
“You’re perfect for that.”
“Yeah,” Laddin said, “I am. I like LA, but I’m tired of the fake stuff, you know? I want something real.” He lifted his chin. “I want you.”
Bruce huffed out a breath. It was too soon to be talking about things like this, and it certainly wasn’t the place. But before he could say something stupid, Laddin tightened his hand into a claw on Bruce’s chest. It dug in hard enough to make Bruce shut up.
“Listen to me!” Laddin ordered, and Bruce nodded. “I want to come home to something. To someone. And when I close my eyes and picture who I want to be with, it’s you, Bruce.” He paused a moment to see if his words were sinking in. They were. And more than that, Laddin was feeding the image straight to Bruce’s heart. The current of energy from Laddin’s palm was creating the picture in Bruce’s mind.
“A two-story house with a backyard,” Bruce said, giving words to the image Laddin was feeding him. “Right on the edge of the state park, so we can run as wolves if we want to.”
Laddin smiled. “I get that you’re a medic and a firefighter. You’ll probably want to be jumping into fires when you’re seventy.”
Bruce snorted. “Maybe not seventy, but at least until I’m sixty-five.” He sobered. “I’m good at it, Laddin.”
“And we could use a good medic and someone who keeps his head around fires.” There was a sudden explosion by the lich, and they both flinched. But Laddin wasn’t letting anything stop him. “I don’t even know what your favorite dish is, but I’d have it there waiting when you came home. I’d watch you eat it and smile like you do when you’re so satisfied, you’re bursting with it.”
Bruce knew the smile he was referring to. The one that usually came after sex with Laddin. “It’s lasagna. And I bet yours is amazing.”
“It is. And do you know what else I think when I look at you?”
Bruce shook his head.
“Kids. I know you can’t have them, but I still see them. A linebacker of a little boy with that dimple you have in your chin.”
“That’s a scar from a house fire.”
Laddin smiled. “It’s yours, and I like it. And when I look at our son, I see that on his chin.”
“What about your dimples? And a really straight nose?” Laddin’s dimples were on his butt, and they were cute. As for his nose, it was ruler straight, which was a far cry from Bruce’s, which had been broken more times than he could count.
“It goes with my neatnik side.”
“I’d teach him how to make a big
