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“Hey,” Richard said, “it's those rules and my pushiness that got us here. Without that, you'd both still be playing at the Haven.”

“This feels like... ” Matthew trailed off and lowered his head.

Richard cupped the man's chin. “Finish your thought.”

“This feels like a haven. Here, just us. You know?” He shifted in his seat.

Richard smiled. “Yeah, that's exactly what it's been like.”

I reached for Matthew and held his hand. “Living here with you two has been better than all the nights I spent at the club combined.” I snatched a strawberry, dipped it in the whipped cream, and painted it over his lips.

I pulled him into my arms and licked the cream from his mouth and chin. The sweet taste from his skin ruined me for all other desserts. I traced his mouth with my thumb. “I love these lips. Your laugh. Your smile— ”

The doorbell rang. Richard groaned. “What now?”

“I'll get it,” I said. “It might be the press.” I had already decided I'd talk to them, but not in our home.

I answered the door, expecting to see anyone but who stood on the other side.

My mother stared back at me, her eyes sad and hollow but focused on my own.

I was torn between slamming the door in her face and asking her for the truth I needed to hear. I didn't have time to do either. She barreled through the open door and flung her arms around me.

“Oh, Luke. He said he could make the charges go away.” Her arms squeezed tighter. “He said he'd get you help if I let you go.”

Charges? Help? Fowler had been right. Somehow my father had convinced her to stay away from me. And it didn't sound like he had used the truth.

She released me and wiped the tears from her eyes.

“Come in.” I gestured for her to follow. We passed by the dining room with Richard and Matthew gawking at us. She gave them a small smile and a nod but said nothing.

Richard stood. “Ma'am, if you're here to hurt him in any way, you'll leave. He's been through enough. It's time for him to move on.”

Her mouth opened, but she clamped it shut before speaking. Couldn't she promise him what he needed to hear?

“It's okay,” I said. “I need to hear her out.”

Richard stared at her for another moment, then sat.

I continued on to the living room, and she followed. We each settled in a chair. The tension and unease filled the space between us. I said nothing as I watched her.

She stared at the hands on her lap. “You have a nice home.”

I nodded my thanks. I had nothing to explain, nothing to apologize for, and nothing to be ashamed of.

She took a deep breath and gave her fingers one last twist. “I knew your father had a problem with you being gay as soon as you told us. I knew he'd think it would hurt him politically. But I had no idea the lengths he'd go to, or I would have left him then.” Tears fell onto her cheeks. She swiped at them and continued.

“After you left for college, I found out he was paying men for sex. I asked him for a divorce. That's when he told me about the night you were arrested.”

Arrested? I leaned back against the chair and crossed my arms over my chest. This wasn't going to be good.

She spoke again, her voice unsteady. “He said you'd been having unprotected sex with men for drug money. He said he bailed you out of jail and begged you to stop— the drugs and the prostitution. But you wouldn't promise him anything.”

The tears gushed, and she didn't even try to catch them. “He wanted you out of our lives and said he'd help you if I agreed not to see you anymore. He said he'd get the charges dropped and keep you enrolled in school. He knew of a rehab program that would take you against your will and keep you there until you were clean. I didn't want you to get sick. I didn't want you to end up dead. I told myself all that mattered was getting you help.” She met my shocked stare. “It was all a lie, wasn't it?”

My one-word answer would break her heart more. Yet none of it was my fault, and at least she'd know the whole truth— about her husband, about me.

“Yes.”

She dropped her head into her hands and sobbed. I fetched her a tissue and gave her a few minutes before I continued. When she could look at me again, I told her about Tim and how I'd loved him. About how my losing him was the first of my father's attempts to control me.

When I was done, she cried more.

“I knew... I knew in my heart my boy was a good man. A man who could love. I should never have believed him. I should have gone to you.”

“Dad helped take Tim from me, and he helped take away my ability to let anyone else in.” I glanced up. Richard and Matthew stood in the doorway. “But I've got it back now.”

She followed my gaze. “I see that.”

I smiled at them. Richard returned the gesture and tilted his head toward the stairs.

“No, stay. I have nothing to hide from you.”

He put his arm around Matthew, and they stepped into the room.

My mother watched them move past until they sat on the couch. She looked back at me. “I know I can't come in here and ask for your forgiveness. It isn't that simple. I may not have known everything he was up to, but I let him push you away from us, and I didn't do anything to stop it. I didn't try to talk to you, to help you.” She lowered her head. Everything about her radiated shame. It comforted me despite the pain she was feeling.

“Part of me felt betrayed when I learned you were gay. That was something I needed to work through. I didn't. I believed his lies. I let your father's hatred for who you were— and his hatred for himself— taint my own ability to love you and accept you.” She raised her head. “I know I can't expect anything. That's not why I'm here. I want to start by apologizing. I am sorry. So sorry, sweetheart. I've let him tell me what to do for a long time. But that's done. You're a good boy— a good man. I heard that when you came to our house. I stood in the hallway and listened to him threaten you.”

Knowing she had heard his words— had heard her own husband threaten to kill her son— disturbed me. I felt sorry for her in a way I never thought I would.

She swiped the tissue over her cheeks. “But no matter what horrible things he said to you, you stood proud and didn't falter. You defended yourself and your... boyfriends.” She stumbled on the word, but pride surged through me.

“They're more than that, Mom. They're family.” I gave Richard and Matthew a wink.

I felt her gaze upon me. I met her stare.

“Oh. Like married?”

Richard laughed. I glanced back in time to catch Matthew cover Richard's mouth with a small hand.

Matthew gave her a charming smile. “Uh, ma'am, your son wasn't always the marrying kind. For him to say family is a big deal to us.”

She nodded. When she spoke again, her voice was a low whisper. “I know you might need some time, but if you'd let me, I'd like to get to know them. I'd like to get to know you.”

“I'm gay. I'm living with two men. And I've helped to get your husband arrested.”

“None of those statements are news to me, son.”

Matthew giggled. The sound muffled in short order as I presumed a large hand covered his mouth.

“Mom, I won't be anyone but who I am. If you can handle that, then I'm open to trying to get to know each other again.”

Her lower lip quivered, but she held back more tears. “You're a good man, Lukas Moore.” She stood and came to me. She brushed a few loose strands of hair off the side of my face, reminiscent of my nights as a small boy when she'd tuck me into bed. “Your father lost himself along the way. I pretended it didn't matter. I'm sorry I was blind to who you really are.”

I stood and held her in my arms. I let the tears I promised myself I'd never show her come.

She wiped at my eyes and cupped my face in her hands. “Now, before I go, can I meet your boys? Make it more official this time?”

I led her to the couch. Richard and Matthew stood, and they smiled at me with love and affection in their eyes. There was a time when having that expression visible to someone other than the three of us would have bothered me. Not any longer. My mother seeing it was essential and fitting.

“Mom, Richard Marshall.”

Richard held out a hand.

For a moment, she seemed hesitant. Then she stepped forward and hugged him. “You're his protector?”

“I try to be.”

“It's good for a mother to know her son has someone looking after him. Please take care of him.”

“Always.”

I wrapped an arm around Matthew. “And this is Matthew Stewart.”

She turned and hugged him too. “And you're sweet and lively. I think my Luke needs that in his life.”

“And addictive,” I said.

“Right,” Richard said. “Don't forget addictive.” I laughed with him.

Matthew rolled his eyes. She released him and gave his arm a pat before stepping away.

Richard pulled him close and kissed his temple. I was glad to see they weren't holding back in front of my mother. I wouldn't have asked them to do any different, to be anything but themselves.

She sat and fumbled for her purse beside the chair. She removed a new tissue and stabbed at her eyes.

“Is something wrong?”

“Oh, no, no.” Her hands fell to her lap. “For once, it's right. You have a family. Jokes, laughter, love. It's all I ever wanted for you. When you told us you were gay, I never thought you'd have any of this. It's nice to see you in your home with your family.”

If she could accept them, accept me, then I had a chance at having a mother again. I'd never have a father, but I would have a family. It was more than I ever thought I'd have.

I walked her to the door.

“Will you keep in touch?” she asked.

“I'll try.” Remembering to call on Mother's Day or any other day of the year wasn't something I'd had to do in a long time.

“And I'll try to be the mother you deserve.” She moved for the open door but stopped short. “I'd like you all to come for dinner. I'm going to move. I can't stay at the house after... ” She patted my arm. “Please think about it. I'll call, and you can let me know.”

“Thanks for asking. I'll see what the guys say.”

She gave me a kiss on the cheek and left. I watched her walk to her car and closed the door after she drove off. My hand gripped the doorknob. I couldn't let go. If I gave up on the death grip, then I might have to let go of everything. The anger. The hatred. The betrayal. Am I ready for that?

Laughter poured out of the living room.

Yeah, I'm ready.

I found Matthew and Richard lying on the couch, kissing, touching, loving on each other.

“I think she likes us,” Richard said.

Matthew laughed. “Uh-huh.”

I tried to hide my smile. “Get your asses up to the bed, or it's the dining room table all over again.”

“God, no.” Richard groaned and stood. “Besides, I have a surprise.”

I stepped out of the cab and let the smile build, let the anticipation flow through me. A night out to fill the ache, the burning inside me.

It was exactly what I needed.

Only it wasn't the ache of loneliness or misery. It was the ache of knowing, with everything I was, what I wanted. I had no doubts, no fears, no inhibitions.

I stepped inside and made my way to the bar. With my long absence from the club, there were many men I'd never seen before. Men I'd never been with. I didn't see any of them. I sat and sipped my water. I wasn't in a hurry. The men I'd find were going to give me everything I needed. The Haven never disappointed.

My gaze captured a dark-haired man walking toward the bar. He wore tight leather pants and a loose white dress shirt. There was a spring in every step, and his wavy hair bounced with him. He was sexy as hell, but what made him all the more appealing were his eyes. They asked for something, begged for it.

I knew what he wanted— what he needed from me— as if he'd spoken the words aloud.

“Hello,” he said with a smile as he sat next to me. “Are you available tonight?” His voice was low and husky. I knew he sounded like that when he was aroused, when he was hard and desperate for contact, a touch, a kiss.

I held his gaze. “Yeah. I am.”

Dark eyes stared back at me. “Great.”

“I'd like us to find another.”

His smile grew. “Perfect.”

I smirked, unable to keep the grin contained, absolutely adoring him. I stood and moved to a table, and he followed. I couldn't take my eyes off him. He was gorgeous. I was supposed to be searching for another man, but I wasn't concerned. He'd find us. And he'd understand. One look at the man across from me, and he'd know why I couldn't look away.

“The name's Luke.”

He laughed, the sound a delight. “Matthew.”

We didn't bother with a handshake as we had the first time we'd done the same exchange. If I touched him, everything would progress faster than we'd planned. He must have felt the same because he made no attempt to reach for me.

Instead, he ran a hand through his dark hair. The strands straightened and snapped back, the movement smooth and just how I remembered him doing it when I'd first sat at the same table with him. I delighted in the knowledge I knew exactly how his hand felt wrapped around my prick, how his fingers felt twisted in my hair, how his hands felt all over me.

I breathed deep. Waiting could be hard. Damn hard. Especially when you knew how great it was going to be.

I'd always imagined being with the same men over and over would be too expected, redundant, reliable, complicated. But it was never any of those things. Not with them.

No matter what my preference on any given day, they fit the bill. The passion wasn't fading. Our feelings for one another were driving it forward, building devotion and desire where the initial surges of lust for the strangers they'd been trailed off.

Matthew blushed as if he could hear my thoughts. “How come we've never done this before?”

I laughed as I remembered the same question from a night similar to the one we were reliving, yet so different. I pulled the words of my reply from memory. “Don't know. Seems every time I considered it, you were already with someone else. Guess you're too popular.” That got me a smile and eyes that shone at me. He still had a great smile.