2015 Top Ten Gay Romance

Chapter 2

The patches of concrete Dr. Jesse Okenah spied below the thick overgrown brush and tall weeds told him he was indeed on the correct path to Wade Carter’s entryway. When Jesse had pulled up to the house he could barely see the front door or the windows that flanked it through all the neglected foliage covering the yard. It must have been ages since anyone had tended to it. And once he had emerged from the vegetation to stand before the faded green door, the peeling paint and cobwebs only reinforced his decision to take this detour across town.

After Wade’s appointment the day before, Jesse couldn’t get the man out of his head. Wade’s chart read like a laundry list of post-traumatic stress—depression, rage, insomnia, nightmares—and all on top of a permanently disabled leg. Jesse couldn’t begin to imagine how defeated Wade must feel. After eight months of physical therapy, Wade hadn’t progressed like he should. Something was holding him back. He had some big walls to climb on the road to recovery, and without family or friends to see him through it, Jesse couldn’t blame Wade for being cynical. If he didn’t push through that bitterness, and those unresolved feelings, he’d be left a shell of a man…or worse.

Jesse’s heart ached thinking that a guy like Wade would give up that easily. He’d seen plenty of that working with the older vets at the Indian Hospital, and he despised seeing someone young and virile become another tragic statistic. Although Jesse barely knew the man, he knew Wade was a soldier, a fighter. Jesse had caught a glimpse of that stubborn soldier hiding behind those brooding sky blue eyes the previous day, and he intended to coax the man out.

He couldn’t deny there were other reasons he wanted to see Wade. Doctor or not, he was still a hot-blooded man. And Wade sure got his blood heated. That fiery mouth affected him more than anything had in quite a while. Wade’s bad leg didn’t detract from the appeal of his classic swimmer’s build and long limbs. In fact, it gave him an air of humility that tempered his American poster-boy good looks. Wade’s sandy blond hair had grown rather long, and that beard was as wild as his front yard, but Jesse saw the raw, sexy man underneath, and he’d be lying to himself if he said he didn’t want to see more.

Wade’s blue eyes had bewitched him. They really were the windows to his soul. Jesse read every emotion with such clear intensity that he wondered if the man could ever play a successful game of poker. Seriously, he felt like he was at the theater as he watched anger, shame, guilt, sorrow, and sparks of pride play out through those expressive eyes. And maybe a hint of attraction, though Wade’s frequent blushing and nervous response to his touch would have been enough to tell him that. Jesse smiled knowing Wade surely hated how easily he could be read, which was probably why he came off churlish. All that gruff exterior meant he was protecting a vulnerable interior, and Jesse would have to tread carefully. He didn’t want to scare the man away.

Jesse pressed the cracked button of the doorbell and added a knock for good measure.

He figured Wade was home since a pick-up truck with Army bumper stickers sat in the driveway. After a few moments had passed he rang the bell and knocked again. “Wade?” He hoped a voice might motivate the man to come to the door.

Eventually, the lock unlatched and Wade appeared.

“Doc?”

Even in worn jeans and a faded t-shirt, Wade looked enticing, the thin cotton stretching over all the right parts. But the sunken eyes and pallid complexion were more troublesome than alluring. His hair was disheveled as if he’d been sleeping, and Jesse fought the urge to reach out and smooth it down.

“Hi—”

“What are you doing here?” Wade blurted out, eying him suspiciously.

“It’s good to see you, too. How about those Sooners?” Jesse joked.

Wade’s eyes widened. “Something’s wrong. Is Dr. Allen okay?”

“Actually, she is going to be okay, but they put her on bed rest for the last month of her pregnancy.”

“Oh, good…I’m glad she’s on the mend.” Wade’s shoulders relaxed, but his knuckles were white as they gripped the edge of the door. “You could have just called.”

“But then I couldn’t have stopped by after work to see if you wanted to take a walk.”

Wade’s blue eyes considered him before he furrowed his brow. “Thanks, but no thanks. I don’t need your pity.” With that he slammed the door, sending a few stray paint chips flying. So much for not scaring him off.

Jesse stepped close to the door. “Wade! It’s not like that.”

Suddenly, the door flew open and Jesse stumbled backward.

“Why else would you be here?” Wade asked, leaning against the door frame.

“You said you didn’t trust yourself walking alone.”

Wade smirked. “You’re saying you’d come out to any of your patients’ homes if they needed it?”

“Of course.”

“Bullshit.”

Jesse huffed. “Listen. I’m sorry I showed up unannounced, but I’m being honest here. Your leg’s only going to get stronger if you use it, and I want you to get stronger.”

“I know that, it’s just…” Wade shook his head. “Why do you care so much?”

“Because it’s about time someone did. Then maybe you’ll start believing you’re worth the trouble.”

Wade’s gaze snapped up to meet his. He stared at Jesse for what seemed like ages and Jesse could see the fear behind Wade’s eyes.

“You have no idea what you’re dealing with here, Doc. You really don’t want to get to know me.”

Jesse held his steady gaze. “Bullshit,” he chirped, echoing Wade. Jesse gestured toward the path with an open palm. “Shall we?”

Wade blinked, dropping his glare, and adjusted his cane.

Jesse prepared to hear an excuse, but instead Wade opened the door wider to walk out. Jesse cheered on the inside as he moved back and waited for Wade to lock up. “I’m only doing this because, for whatever goddamned reason, you decided to waste your free time walking the streets with a gimp.” Wade’s grumbling was a small price to pay for victory.

Jesse followed as Wade struggled to push the dead plants aside. “Blasted weeds!” They finally made it to the sidewalk and brushed off their clothes.

“My mother’s green thumb might explode if she saw this,” Jesse said.

“Maybe she can clean it up then.”

Jesse smiled. “If I told her about it, she just might.” And he finally got a chuckle out of Wade.

“Where in Lawton do you live?” Wade asked.

“Near the Reservation.” He absentmindedly reached over and picked a dried leaf out of Wade’s hair. “We go slow,” Jesse warned, before Wade could comment.

“Like there’s any other speed I can go,” Wade groused, as he began to walk, eyeing Jesse. “You Comanche?”

Jesse nodded. “Half. My mother is Comanche, or as we say Numinu, and my father is a mix of English and Swedish. He was stationed at Fort Sill.”

“And they live around these parts?”

“My mother does. My father died in the Persian Gulf.”

“I’m sorry.” Wade squinted in his direction.

“Thanks.” Jesse missed his dad very much. His father had always been good to his family, but he had given his life doing what he loved most—serving his country. Jesse couldn’t have been more proud. His mother still had her bad days, when grief overwhelmed her to the point of collapse, but she always made a point to tell Jesse how much she admired him working with veterans. It pleased him to know he could make her happy. “What about your parents?”

“They’re alive.” Wade shoved his free hand in his pocket, the other fidgeting on the cane.

Definitely a sore subject. “Where do they live?” Jesse asked tentatively, remembering Wade had mentioned he didn’t have any family or friends to help him out.

“Oklahoma City.”

Jesse wondered what was behind the terse answers. “That’s not far. Do they come out to see you?”

“Nope.”

“Can I ask why?” Jesse knew he was prying, but he couldn’t help it.

“You can ask, but that doesn’t mean I’ll tell,” he replied.

“Fair enough.” He had no intention of making Wade angry. He just hoped Wade would come to trust him enough to talk about it.

They walked for a few moments without saying a word, and Jesse could hear the faint rustle of the wind through the rosebud trees that lined the streets. A chill swept over his skin as twilight settled over them. Jesse stole a glance at Wade out of the corner of his eye. The man looked utterly exhausted. If he thought Wade would appreciate the gesture, Jesse would have wrapped an arm around his shoulder for support.

Wade sighed. “I told them not to visit, and I didn’t return their calls. Eventually, they just stopped trying. And I’m fine with that.”

Jesse’s heart sank. “You sure?”

“Yes, yes I am.”

“But…” Jesse’s mother and father played a huge role in his life. They had supported him in everything he had ever dreamed of doing, from guitar lessons to medical school. Most importantly, they had stood by him when he came out. His life would be empty without their love and support, and he couldn’t fathom how someone could sever that bond on purpose. “…I’m having a hard time believing that.”

“Why?” Wade stopped abruptly and turned to face Jesse, his eyes storming with emotion. “I left for Afghanistan a decorated Sergeant. I was young, confident, and proud of myself and my country.” His eyes cast downward. “When I came back, I had little respect for anything, including myself. Now look at me.” Wade shrugged. “Why would I want my parents to see me like this?”

“Like what?”

“Damaged!” Wade inhaled a shaky breath. “You don’t get it. I’m not the same person I was before I left. I liked that person. I can’t say the same for who I am now.” He flexed his fingers on the handle of the cane and looked off into the distance.

Jesse wished he could give Wade an easy fix, offer some tried and true advice, or hand over a magic pill that would take him back in time, but he knew better than that. He was sure Wade knew as well as he did that PTSD was not a quick or easy battle. The question was did Wade want to fight? “You can’t do this alone, Wade. You need long-term support in order to get better and regain that person you lost.”

He shook his head, avoiding Jesse’s gaze.

“What about your friends in the Army?”

“My so-called friends don’t want to hang around with a miserable cripple. Not that I blame them. s**t, I don’t even like being around me.”

“I don’t find it so bad,” Jesse said.

Wade snorted. “No offense, Doc, but you’ve only known me for a couple hours. Give it time.”

“I am.” Jesse replied, as Wade paused at the entrance to the park near the end of the street.

“We can cut through the park and loop back around to my house,” Wade said, ignoring Jesse’s comment.

They both gazed out toward the park.

“Wanna race?” Jesse joked.

Wade barked out a laugh, but the movement caught him off balance and he pitched forward. “Dammit!”

Jesse stepped in front and got up under Wade’s shoulder, hauling Wade against his chest in a flash as the cane clattered to the ground. “Gotcha…” Jesse said. Wade’s body was warm and firm against his, those blue eyes wide with shock. Jesse watched as Wade’s gaze darted to his mouth, heavy breaths teasing his face. What he read in his eyes made his heart race. Jesse dared to glance at Wade’s parted lips and he swallowed. Temptation pulsed through him, coiling in the center of his groin.

A car drove by, loud music thumping and vibrating through the street, and Jesse looked out towards it. It reminded him where they were.

“You can let go of me now, Doc,” Wade said, squirming in his arms.

“Right.” Jesse released him and bent down to get the cane. “You okay?” Jesse asked, studying Wade’s face for any sign of pain. His skin was flushed, and he avoided Jesse’s eyes.

“I’m fine.” Wade said, brusquely, moving forward.

“For someone who didn’t want to go for a walk, you sure are motivated now,” Jesse teased, trying to make light of the situation.

Wade sniffed, but didn’t answer. Could he be embarrassed? Or something else? Jesse gave him space as they made their way through the park, eventually emerging back onto the street.

They walked the rest of the way back to the house in silence, Jesse enjoying the sounds of crickets and rustling leaves, content just to have Wade’s company. The moon had replaced the sun as they came upon Wade’s home.

“I’m bringing my machete next time,” Jesse said, trudging through the brush toward the front door.

Wade chuckled behind him. “Next time?”

Jesse knew without a doubt he’d be back to do this again. Wade needed someone to push him out of his comfort zone. More importantly, Wade needed someone to show him he had all the tools necessary to heal. “Tomorrow. Same time.”

Wade was quiet as he pulled the keys from his pocket and unlocked the door. Finally, he turned toward Jesse and nodded. “Okay, Doc.” He didn’t smile, but he didn’t frown either.

“Would you call me Jesse, please?”

Shadows played over the both of them as they stood under Wade’s porch light, but Jesse could still see something sweet and genuine flicker in Wade’s eyes. He had taken more chances tonight than he normally would have, especially with a patient. Without knowing it, Wade had dared Jesse to push him forward, and he responded to the challenge in kind.

“Goodnight, Wade,” he said with a wave.

“Night,” he replied, as Jesse turned down the path. “Jesse,” he added in a much lower voice that made his insides ache. He forced himself the rest of the way to his car without looking back.

* * * *

By the end of the week, Jesse had visited Wade every day after work. And no matter how much Wade fought it at first, he had come to look forward to the walks around his neighborhood with Jesse. When Jesse showed up at Wade’s door each day, with that easy smile on his face, Wade melted. It took all of his strength to drag his gaze away from Jesse’s sculpted ass and every ounce of his concentration to avoid tripping over potholes as they walked down the street. He didn’t know what he might do if Jesse caught him again in those capable arms. The heat, the musk, and the weight of Jesse’s taut body against his haunted his daydreams and his restless nights. He was a man obsessed, and it pissed him off royally. He didn’t need addict added to his long list of faults.

Initially, he had chalked it up to his dry spell. It had been over a year since he’d had s*x, which could drive even the most chaste man nuts, but the fact that his c**k raged at the very idea of getting Jesse naked wasn’t what scared him the most. It was that Jesse had already gotten under his skin. He was kind, intelligent, and he made Wade laugh. That was a feat in itself these days. Jesse also had the power to make Wade do things he hadn’t thought about in months. Wade’s freshly trimmed beard, mowed and weeded yard (courtesy of a gardening service in town), and rigorous new workout routine were a testament to that.

He didn’t want to get his hopes up. Jesse was a doctor set on seeing him get better. He wouldn’t be interested in Wade for anything other than friendship. There was too much at stake. Wade still didn’t understand why the man wanted to spend the little time he had to himself with a crotchety vet. All he knew was that he would take as much time with the handsome doctor as he could get.

“You like fish?” Wade asked abruptly, when they had returned from their walk. He attempted to lean casually against his front door, but his cane made it awkward and unnatural.

“I do,” Jesse replied, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“I’m making sautéed halibut with haricots verts, scallions, and white wine sauce. I think I have French bread, too.”

“Sounds amazing.” His voice lowered, making Wade’s insides flutter.

“You’re welcome to…” he swallowed. “…stay for dinner?” Why was it so hard to ask the man over for a meal? He had faced enemy fire head-on in the Middle East, but now he could barely speak with Jesse’s eyes trained on him. This was not a date, just a friendly dinner.

Jesse looked down at his shoes. Those few seconds of hesitation by the doctor had Wade sweating more than the fifty push-ups he’d done that morning.

“Love to,” Jesse said. Finally.

Wade tried to contain the smile that spread across his face, his heart pounding. Not a date. He turned to open the door, hobbled out of the way and let Jesse walk in before him.

His home wasn’t much. Though neat and clean, compliments of his Army drill sergeants, the furniture was dated and worn. Most of it included hand-me-downs from his parents, circa the ‘70s and ‘80s, given to him before his tour of duty.

“Once I joined the Army, I didn’t spend much time at home.” Wade explained as Jesse surveyed the room. “I’m lucky to have any furniture.”

Jesse nodded. “It reminds me of my Mom’s house. She hasn’t changed the place much since my parents bought it in the seventies.”

“I’m sorry,” Wade joked.

“She has some taste,” Jesse ran his fingertips over the red Navajo blanket draped over the back of the couch. “It’s not all Dreamcatchers and woven baskets.”

Wade recalled a Native American performance he saw in grade school once. “She have any eagle feather headdresses or buckskin skirts?”

Jesse smirked. “Maybe.”

Wade wouldn’t mind seeing Jesse in that get-up, although with a shirt instead of skirt. That fantasy would be a hard one to forget. Damn.

Truth be told, there wasn’t much around his home that said anything about his taste—no photographs, artwork, medals, or old high school trophies plastering the walls and mantel. It was just a house; he never planned on staying in it long enough to make it his own. Returning from Afghanistan permanently injured had changed all that.

“You can watch TV if you like.” Wade waved toward the gray leather couch and his ancient television.

“I’d rather watch you cook.” Jesse moved close enough behind him that Wade could feel Jesse’s hot breath stirring a few strands of hair. Wade shivered.

Their dinner wouldn’t get made if Jesse was this close in his cramped kitchen. “Fine, but stay out of the way. You’ll just foul me up.” Wade headed for the kitchen.

“You got it.”

“Have a seat at the bar.” Wade smacked the countertop as he passed by it, then opened the refrigerator. “Beer?”

Jesse pulled the bar stool under him. “Please.”

When Wade turned to hand Jesse the bottle, he was amazed at how comfortable the doc looked sitting at his bar, a sweet smile on the man’s face. If Wade had any of the confidence he’d once possessed, he would forget dinner, pull Jesse over the counter, and kiss the man senseless. Eight months ago, he wouldn’t have given it a second thought. Hell, eight months ago Wade would have dragged Jesse into a supply closet and had his way with the man the very first day they met. Times sure had changed.

Wade popped the top of the beer bottle and slid it over to Jesse.

Jesse raised his bottle. “Here’s to the soldier who fights and loves—may he never lack for either.”

Wade opened his mouth to speak, but closed it. Man, that old Army toast brought back memories.

“My father knew them all.” Jesse winked.

Wade tapped his bottle to Jesse’s and they both took a swig. The man never ceased to amaze him.

As Wade busied himself with preparing their dinner, he could feel the heat of Jesse’s gaze. It made him nervous and excited at the same time.

“You’re pretty agile in the kitchen,” Jesse commented.

He didn’t use the cane much when he was cooking. It tended to get in the way. “I’ve learned to adapt. In here, at least,” he replied, seasoning the halibut fillets as butter began to sizzle in a nearby pan.

“One step at a time,” Jesse rattled off. “Who taught you how to cook?”

“I taught myself. My mom and dad both worked long hours at Oklahoma Gas & Electric. We lived off frozen dinners and microwaved meals. When I came back from Afghanistan it gave me something to do.”

To head off any potential questions about his parents, Wade changed the subject. “You do much on the weekends?”

“What I can’t get done during the week,” Jesse said, and Wade turned to see him take a drink. Jesse’s long neck tilted back slowly, his bobbing Adam ‘s apple on delectable display. Wade trembled. He never knew something as mundane as swallowing could be so sensual. He blinked back to the moment, realizing Jesse was speaking. “—Sunday afternoons, I head over to the soccer complex to play a few games with the Comanche Nation youth league.”

“Admirable.” Wade hoped he wasn’t drooling as he whisked the wine and cream together, and then poured it into the pan. He expected Jesse to be involved in the community in some capacity. He was just that kind of guy. f*****g irresistible.

“It’s also a great workout and fun.” Jesse stretched his arms over his head as Wade pulled the bread out of the oven. “I can’t believe you’re done. Everything was practically ready to go. Were you expecting someone?”

Wade huffed. “Maybe.”

Jesse chuckled as he got up from the bar.

“I told you. No helping.” Wade said raising his eyes to meet Jesse’s.

Jesse stood at attention. “May I set the table, sir?”

He smirked. “I’ll allow it. And that’s Sergeant to you, Private. The plates and glasses are in the upper cabinet near the sink and the silverware is in the drawer below.”

Wade removed the green beans from the steamer, as Jesse went to work setting the plates on the linen place-mats Wade had put out earlier.

“It smells wonderful,” Jesse said, finishing up.

“I hope it tastes as good as it smells.” He found the recipe about a month ago, and had tucked it away for a special occasion out of habit. He honestly never thought he’d use it.

“I trust your skills,” Jesse replied.

“You’re a brave man.” He motioned for Jesse to sit down at the table, then dished them both a fish fillet with sauce and beans. He placed the French bread in the center of the table and sat down across from Jesse. As Wade looked into Jesse’s dark eyes, something inside him clicked into place.

It felt right to be across from this attractive man who had willingly spent every evening this week with him. Even though this was not a date, Jesse was smiling and Wade couldn’t help but smile back. Fuckin’ A. For the first time in a long time, things were going his way. He took a slow swig of his beer, and wondered how long it would be before he messed it all up.