Take a Chance on It Read online

  “Hey,” Dane reminded him. “I asked you to marry me.”

  “You did. And I am.” Spencer hugged Dane, a gentle hand sliding through his curls. “But you can still ask me to stay.”

  “I’m fine,” Dane repeated. And while it might have been the biggest lie he’d dared in his life, there wasn’t anything Spencer could do to change all the not-fine that Dane was. And they both knew it.

  GIDEON’S SECRETARY brought the invitation in with the rest of the mail that required his specific attention. He tapped the sharp weight of the envelope’s edge against his palm before he tucked it under his blotter. Just one of Dane’s little jokes to send the invitation to his office.

  Isn’t that where you live, anyway?

  Hours later, his secretary stuck her head in to let him know she was leaving for the day. As her footsteps receded, Gideon pulled the heavy stationery back out. In the quiet of the nearly empty office, the outer envelope made a loud rasp as it tore. After scanning the cardstock inside, Gideon fed it to the shredder.

  Chapter 2

  “ARE YOU sure it’s supposed to be that tight?” Dane added a strangled gasp as Gideon slid the knot in the silk to Dane’s collar button.

  “So don’t wear it.” Gideon stepped back, best man duties all accomplished until he had to produce the ring. “Whose idea was it to wear suits anyway?”

  “Mine.” Dane shifted in front of the mirror, patting the knot in his tie. “First time for everything. Or in my case, a last time.”

  Gideon wasn’t taking that bait. He looked out of the window at the waiting chairs, the arch made of driftwood on the end of the pier. “You wore a suit for Mama T’s funeral.”

  “But not a tie. This tight? Really?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you do this every day? On purpose?”

  “You get used to it. Like anything else.” Because there wasn’t much of an alternative.

  Dane smirked.

  Gideon hadn’t been aware of anything leerworthy in his statement, but Dane had never needed cause to exhibit his libido.

  “Want to get a last one in?” Dane moved into Gideon’s space.

  “I thought the treatment was keeping you down.”

  “You know I have an exhibitionist/rushed-sex kink.”

  “What isn’t your kink?” Gideon kept his gaze on the wedding paraphernalia outside, until he heard the purr of Dane’s zipper.

  “Come on, baby. Ride it like you stole it.”

  Dane—damn him—had a gorgeous dick, and he knew it, but Gideon had seen it and had it enough times to be unimpressed. At least as far as an immediate arousal. No, the problem was all the memories that went with it. And the completely unavailable man who came attached to that beautiful dick.

  “Put that away before you hurt yourself.” Gideon gripped the window ledge behind him, in need of support in case his brain lost the battle with dumber organs.

  Dane—and his dick—deflated, though his smile was bright as ever. “Now you know it’s just a weapon of love.”

  Love had never had anything to do with where Dane stuck his dick. Knowing that was as good as a cold shower. Gideon folded his arms over his chest and leaned back. “Seriously?”

  “Maybe I was.” Dane checked himself out in the mirror again. “We’re really doing this, you know.”

  “Don’t be an idiot. That’s why we’re all here.”

  As Dane stalked toward him, Gideon’s skin responded by prickling in awareness, because no matter what his brain told him, contact with Dane was never casual. Dane didn’t touch him, but leaned around Gideon’s shoulder to look out the window. Gideon followed Dane’s gaze. A few of the chairs had been filled.

  The clouds blew fast through the sky, and women’s skirts fluttered as guests strolled along the deck of the Nautilus Beach Club. Dane’s Mama J was talking with Theo as Kieran stood next to them, forming a triangle. Mama J wore sensible, sturdy sandals. Gideon could foresee a few turned ankles, and potential lawsuits, if a stiletto dropped through the spaces in the boards.

  Dane’s moms—Theresa and Jess—had always been what Gideon would have wanted for his own mom—assuming, of course, he’d had one that stuck around past Gideon turning seven.

  At the rehearsal dinner last night, Mama J had kissed his cheek and held him, despite Gideon’s rigid posture and tentative return of the embrace. “We always hoped he’d finally see you, sweetheart.”

  And just like that, all the iron he’d used to lock away his feelings to get Dane through this cancer bullshit had turned to vapor, and Gideon had had to excuse himself. It had taken two shots of Chivas Regal to get him to the point where he could let anyone see his face.

  “It really might have been your last chance.” Dane wasn’t teasing now.

  “For fuck’s sake, Dane, you’re not going to die.”

  “That’s not what I meant.” Dane’s hand hovered over Gideon’s shoulder and then fell away. “But we’re not just doing this for the paperwork, for me to go on his insurance. We’re… closing the relationship.”

  As smart as Gideon knew he was, he would always be incredibly stupid when it came to Dane. Had he missed signs of that shift in his self-imposed exile from Dane’s booty-call list?

  Gideon buried his reaction in an examination of his cuffs. “I’d say you’re cute when you’re terrified, but neither of your heads need to get any bigger.”

  “Aw. You noticed.” Despite his drawn features, Dane’s grin was as bright as ever.

  “You make damned sure everyone does.”

  Dane wrapped his arms around Gideon. “I love you, you know.”

  Gideon rested his hands on Dane’s shoulders. “Yes.”

  “I only plan to do this once, and I want to do it right.”

  Let me tell you about the family curse, son.

  Ignoring the echo of his father’s rasp, Gideon nodded at the group through the window. “And look how well that worked out for Theo.”

  “What do you mean? They’re happy.”

  Yes. Gideon could admit that much. Theo had always radiated confidence and energy, but since he’d married Kieran, the frantic edges of Theo’s optimism had been smoothed away.

  “I was referring to their godawful ceremony. We had to hold that red-bearded minister’s soaking-wet loincloth over them as a chuppa. It dripped.”

  Dane laughed and rubbed a thumb over Gideon’s forehead. “Uh-oh. You’re getting scowl lines.”

  “At least I don’t have to worry about laugh lines.”

  “Maybe I won’t have to worry about that either.” Dane stepped away to the mirror to fuss with the knot in his tie.

  Gideon’s chest tightened around nothing.

  He knew it was part of Dane’s self-defense mechanism. All of it was. The ties, the wedding, the jokes about not being around much longer, they were how Dane was dealing, but Gideon needed to get his lungs working.

  He escaped into the hallway.

  Theo found him there. He didn’t say anything, just put Gideon in a bear hug. Yeah, Kieran was good for Theo.

  Gideon allowed himself to accept the embrace, clinging to the fleeting sensation that he wasn’t alone.

  Of course, Kieran’s influence or not, this was still Theo, and he wasn’t silent long. “Hell, do you have to walk him down the aisle too? Give him away?”

  Gideon lowered his arms to his sides. With Theo in the way, Gideon couldn’t adopt his usual armor of crossed arms, so he folded his lips in over his teeth instead to buy himself time to steady his voice.

  “Now you know Dane would never engage in anything so heteronormative and antifeminist. Plus, you were at the rehearsal.”

  The arrangement was that Dane and Spencer would stand off to either side with their friends and family, and then walk to the center to meet the officiant in her flowing, purple, goddess robes, under the arch of driftwood and ribbons.

  Theo pressed tighter into Gideon.

  Though he didn’t resist, Gideon kept his hands at his sides
and injected all of his considerable stock of disdain into his voice. “Save it for Dane. And Kieran, if he lets you spew emotion all over him.”

  “You’re a real shit sometimes.” Theo brushed a kiss across Gideon’s cheek before he could jerk out of reach, but let him go.

  “Thank you for noticing.”

  “Anytime, since you put so much effort into the performance.”

  Dane came out behind them, tie crooked and loose from his fussing with it. “I can’t fucking believe it. My bio dad showed up.” His voice held so little emotion, Gideon might have uttered the words himself.

  Theo nudged Dane into the wall and adjusted his tie.

  Dane made a sharp choking sound.

  “Did I hurt you?” Theo’s hands shot up like he was facing the police. “Did I press on the chemo port?”

  “He’s being a baby.” Gideon leaned on the doorjamb.

  “Is it a problem that your dad is here?” Theo loosened Dane’s tie a bit.

  “No. I’m just surprised he came. He’s more anti ‘meaningless antiquated ritual’ than I am.”

  “It’s not meaningless. It means you get to keep access to Memorial Sloan Kettering’s best oncologist.”

  Dane mimicked a nasal voice. “Then sign the paper and be done with it.” He resumed his normal range. “Cue a rant about healthcare inequality, big pharm, and pesticides altering our genes.”

  “So basically, chip off the old block?” Jax came down the hall, completing the four-headed monster that had been the only constant thing in Gideon’s life. “Hey, I know you said no dead plants, so I got you and G these to wear.”

  Jax aimed for the lapel of Dane’s suit, so the thing in Jax’s hand was some sort of boutonniere. As he pinned it on Dane, Gideon got a better look. Seashells glued together, one pearlescent, another pale brown and white on a lacy skeletal shell frame. Gideon thought it might have been from a whelk, but he hadn’t majored in marine biology.

  “Mollusk skeletons. How festive.” Dane went a little cross-eyed peering down.

  “I’m sorry. Did you become a vegetarian? You weren’t eating seafood paella last night?” Jax snapped over his shoulder as he came at Gideon with his pin and seashells.

  Gideon suffered the abuse to his Armani. “Charming. Did the children make them?”

  Jax’s role as stepparent was guaranteed to shift the attention away from Dane. Gideon hadn’t agreed with Jax being the only one kept in the dark about the reason behind the sudden wedding, but now wasn’t the best time for him to notice Dane’s ten-pound weight loss.

  “No, the girls didn’t make them. I bought them. And these, you snarky bastard.” Jax handed off two small blue Tiffany boxes.

  “Thank you.” Dane hugged Jax.

  Kieran appeared at the end of the hall and held up a pair of fedoras. Theo went to take them from him. “My contribution.”

  With Dane’s blond curls slicked back, it wasn’t obvious there were fewer of them, but they’d decided on the hats to be sure.

  Gideon sighed. “Borrowed.”

  “Of course.” Theo grinned. “From the costuming of Two for the Show.”

  “I’m up to my eyeballs in luck, then.” Dane tapped his blue tie. “Wait. Where’s my old?”

  “Standing right next to you.” Gideon nudged Dane forward. “Let’s get this over with.”

  THE OCEAN breeze immediately denied hat coverage. Dane seemed determined to give everyone a bit of slapstick, clamping it down with a hand on his head until Gideon plucked it off and held his and Dane’s both by their brims.

  Dane looked over his shoulder.

  “No one can tell. I promise.”

  Before Dane could murmur a question, Gideon answered it.

  “No, not even from the back.”

  Dane smiled, a sparkle reaching his green eyes for the first time since the diagnosis. It was a shot to the heart most people swore Gideon didn’t have. Dane’s damned happy look had been Gideon’s curse and blessing for half his lifetime.

  I’ve got you. Always.

  But it was already too late for words. Gideon nodded, and Dane turned back to face Spencer.

  Gideon had made himself a master of staying physically present while disappearing, and he drew hard on that skill to get him through the apparently endless preamble to the ceremony.

  Cat, she of the flowing purple robes, spoke earnestly of the goddess’s love and nature and the perfection of unions while the breeze at her back sent patchouli washing over them. Gideon paid her just enough attention to be ready on cue to produce the ring currently residing in his breast pocket.

  In the meantime, he let his attention wander. Julia, Spencer’s oldest sister and his attendant, smiled when Gideon caught her eye. Her aqua-colored sheath dress was straight and smooth to her knees. Where would she have tucked the other ring?

  Gideon looked out over the guests. Spencer’s Hawthorne-Partridge contingent was there in force, 90 percent blond, ranging in shades from Spencer’s wheat color to the darker honeys like Dane’s.

  They were a good match, right to their hair.

  A figure came from behind the building, striding toward the last row of chairs.

  Cat began intoning the old chestnut, “If anyone present has reason why Spencer and Dane may not be joined, they should speak now or….”

  Christ, Gideon would have thought that crap wouldn’t make the cut for a hippy-dippy ceremony like this one. Her question froze everyone into absolute silence. Even the sound of the waves behind them seemed to fade.

  Don’t look at me. Do not look at me.

  Despite the refrain in Gideon’s head, he felt the weight of Theo and Jax’s stares. Did they actually expect him to beg Dane to change his mind?

  Gideon narrowed his attention on the figure who’d reached the last row of chairs. Late and in jeans and flannel. A lesbian?

  No, probably not, given the neat goatee. The new arrival stared directly at the altar, and in Gideon’s peripheral vision, Spencer flinched.

  The outfit was hideous, Gideon conceded, but as the man started down the aisle between the chairs, Gideon knew Spencer’s reaction was more than just horror at the clothes.

  Spencer went pasty under his tan, his expression slack with shock. Then his features sharpened under his already patrician nose, eyes drawn in with grief.

  In that instant, Gideon knew. Knew before Spencer let go of Dane’s hands and stepped back. Knew before the words made it out of Spencer’s pretentious fucking mouth.

  “I can’t.”

  Rage flooded Gideon, curling his hand into a fist. Acrid, bitter from festering for ten—no take it all the way back to the first heartbreak, seventeen—years of Gideon holding it back.

  Spencer’s two soft words set it free.

  “Now? You do this to him now?” The punch flew out of Gideon with the words, a shot to Spencer’s cheek, the shock echoing back up Gideon’s arm and reverberating into something like relief.

  Worse, with something like happiness. Goddamn Gideon’s stupid, stubborn, hopeful heart.

  He punched Spencer again.

  Chapter 3

  THE FORCE of Gideon’s lunge pushed Dane into Cat. Dane reached for her to steady them both, staring down at his hands as he did so. He’d never been more aware of them. They’d been so warm with Spencer’s hands around them an instant ago. Now they froze, ice sliding up through his nerves toward his chest.

  His fingers had gone so numb, Dane couldn’t feel the velveteen of her robe, though he could clearly see his hands on Cat’s arms. The cold kept coming, traveling through him, as if someone had opened up a new hole in him to pour in fresh poison. But instead of killing off the mutating cells in his body, this was killing deeper. His soul, not that he’d ever believed in one.

  This life was all you got.

  He was paralyzed, watching everything spinning out of control around him, but as removed from it as if he were behind glass. It was the way he’d felt every day since the diagnosis, hyperaware of life go
ing on, all the wonderful sensations of it, only he was suddenly cut off.

  Julia shoved Gideon away from Spencer, steadying and defending her brother. Cat let out one choked sob, and then she started a bawling, hiccupped cry. Finally Dane could act. He didn’t know what he wanted, but he knew it wasn’t any of this.

  He stepped away from the chaos under the driftwood arch, down the steps, and out onto the beach. His ridiculous Oxfords had no traction in the sand, so he kicked them off, toed out of the sweaty nylon socks, and strode away in bare feet.

  “Dane.” Spencer’s voice, sharp and urgent, sliced through the numbness around him.

  The sand was chilly, damp, and rough between his toes, and every bit of that was wonderful, the first real sensation he’d had in weeks. He drew in a deep breath and kept walking.

  Spencer called louder, but the sound blended into the surf and wind.

  Next came Gideon, words jarred as though he were running. “Hey. Drama queen.”

  Dane had reached the end of the damp sand. Decision time. Go or stay. No one would catch him if he decided to swim for it. To say fuck it all and swim until he couldn’t.

  Five yards from him a wave broke, the edge spilling all the way up to bubble icily around his toes. Even the pain felt wonderful. He’d done it to himself instead of having something done to him. Acted. He eyed a whitecap far out. Maybe he’d just swim a hundred yards and then decide.

  Gideon’s dry, mocking voice came from right beside him. “Seriously?”

  Dane kept staring. The next wave soaked the hem of his trousers. Fabric clung to his ankles, a sensation familiar from a lifetime spent on beaches and in salt marshes, drawn to them first in a child’s fascination and then by his commitment to protect them from humanity’s damage.

  Gideon’s body heat let Dane know how close he was to his back. If he started into the water, would Gideon grab him or let him go?

  Suddenly, Dane was terrified of learning the answer.

  “Suicide with everyone who loves you in the audience?” Gideon sneered the words. “This is your big plan?”