Page 20 of Resilience on Canvas

“Good.” Robert brought Henry’s hand closer to his face, readying the tweezers near the swollen injury.

He could feel Henry’s nervousness—the sweat on his palm and slight trembling of his hand—and, hell, part of him wanted to bring Henry’s hand to his lips.

He wanted to plant little kisses on each of his fingers and knuckles—taking extra care near the splinter, of course—and tell him that he’d try his best not to make it hurt too bad.

Instead, Robert rubbed Henry’s palm with his thumb, hoping that was enough of a comfort.

When he then touched the tweezers to Henry’s skin, Henry let out a whimper—the sweetest little sound Robert had ever heard in his life—and Robert was hit with a wave of fondness.

He had to shut his eyes for a moment to remind himself not to let it pull him out to sea.

Letting out a breath, Robert opened his eyes and refocused on the pesky piece of wood stuck in Henry’s finger.

Henry whimpered once more as Robert pinched the son-of-a-bitch splinter and pulled it from the wound.

Afterward, he looked up to see that Henry’s eyes were closed, his face pinched, and Robert’s breath caught.

Another wave of want crashed over him. And this time, Robert surrendered.

Slowly, Robert brought Henry’s hand to his lips and planted one hard kiss on his middle knuckle.

“It’s out,” Robert said. Henry’s eyes fluttered open, a sweet blush creeping across his cheeks, and Robert couldn’t fight back his smile. “Gosh, Hen, yer like a... like a little puppy sometimes.”

Henry’s eyes fell to the floor, and the redness on his cheeks deepened.

“What is it?” Robert said, heaviness settling in his stomach .

Maybe Henry wasn’t none too happy with that kiss. Had Robert misread things?

“Nothing,” Henry said, his voice low and sad. “Just... my friends called me a baby bunny recently.”

“Oh.” Robert furrowed his brow as some of the weight in his stomach lifted. Thank God Henry wasn’t reacting badly to the kiss, it seemed. “Would you rather I have called you that, then? Because, I mean, puppy, bunny...” He shrugged, still clutching Henry’s hand. “Don’t matter which one to me.”

“No,” Henry said with a shake of his head. “Truthfully. I would rather no one think of me as a helpless little animal.”

Ah, well, Robert could understand that.

“If it helps, you weren’t nothing like a baby bunny or a little puppy when we were fightin’ in the store,” he said. “Hell, you even beat me in our pretend scuffle. Did you forget that you managed to pin me to the wall?”

Henry let out a breath through his nose and smiled a little. “No.”

“There’s a wolf in you, Hen.” Robert rubbed Henry’s hand with his thumb. “I’ve seen it. Seems like you need some help bringing it out, is all.”

Henry mumbled a soft, “Maybe.”

“I won’t call you a puppy no more.”

After a moment, Henry’s smile broadened.

He looked up to meet Robert’s eyes again, and the sweetness of the moment made Robert’s stomach tumble in the most wonderful way.

God, how he wanted to kiss Henry. Only he wasn’t too sure if he should.

Because no matter how perfect Henry was, the two of them starting something could still lead to trouble.

If even one person found out or sensed what they were, that would be it for Robert.

Probably for Henry, too. But Robert had his whole family to think of .

Henry nibbled on his bottom lip, and the sight had Robert reeling.

Son of a bitch, how was the man so Goddamn kissable?

Burying his urge to touch their lips together, Robert said, “Hen, we ought to finish the marmalade. Don’t want those carrots goin’ to waste.”

Henry nodded, still not breaking eye contact, and Robert’s chest pinched. Everything he had ever wanted, romance-wise, was right in front of him. And yet, he couldn’t have it. What a terrible form of torture this was.

When Robert went to stand, he remembered that he and Henry were still connected, Henry’s hand resting in his. It felt so natural to hold it. It felt as natural as breathing.

Or maybe more natural than breathing lately, considering the state of things.

Standing, Robert waited for Henry to let go, but he never did.

“I think there’s only a few left to peel,” Robert said, tugging on Henry’s hand.

He supposed there was no harm in holding it for a little while longer.

“Thanks for helpin’ me with the splinter,” Henry said, pink clinging to his cheeks as he stood. “It barely even hurt. It’s like yer some kind of expert splinter-remover.”

Robert laughed softly. “Yeah, well, we have the twins here, and they’ve had lots of splinters. Other injuries, too. It’s my responsibility to take care of them. And everyone else.”

“It’s impressive,” Henry said, his voice shaking the slightest bit. “I’m so impressed by you, Robert. I really mean that. Yer...” He paused and squeezed Robert’s hand. “I’ve never met anyone so...”

Robert stopped walking and crooked a teasing eyebrow. “Impressive? ”

“Yeah. Impressive.” Henry turned to face him, his eyes filled with something like... like wonderment. “So, so impressive.”

Robert’s stomach leapt up into his throat. Good God, Henry’s fawning was stirring up a whole storm of longing inside Robert’s heart. How the heck could he remain friends with Henry Sherwood without smashing their faces together?

Maybe he couldn’t.

Robert could keep a secret, couldn’t he? Henry probably could, too. No one had to know.

Robert wet his lips, moving his tongue over them slowly, hoping that he could make them feel soft and smooth and every other thing they ought to be for Henry, and then, mustering every bit of courage he had, Robert leaned in.

CRACK.

Both men startled from the sound of the front door slamming into the wall, reflexively releasing each other’s hands.

In the doorway stood Raymond Davis, his eyes wide and wild, his clothes a rumpled mess.

He hobbled over to the kitchen counter, coughing without even bothering to cover his mouth.

Robert took a couple of steps forward but stopped when he caught a whiff of the man.

Smells of sweat and grime and some kind of hard booze were wafting off his skin.

What a sorry excuse for a father he was.

“What’s this? Were you and yer friend there playin’ house?” Robert’s father asked before hacking a laugh-cough that made Robert shudder, embarrassment churning in his stomach.

Christ, why was it that the Lord saw fit for someone as sweet as Henry to have to be subjected to someone so vile? Robert lifted his chin, hoping that Henry wouldn’t see how much shame he felt in that moment and trying to instead look like the proud man he sorely wanted to be .

“We were makin’ marmalade,” Robert said. “You know, takin’ care of the family.”

“Oh, is that boy there family? Are them kinds of marriages legal now?”

Robert curled one hand into a fist, focusing every bit of hatred he was feeling into that the one spot, and then, he slowly released it, letting his hand relax.

He repeated the motion twice more, praying he could keep his fury contained.

Because, holy hell, if he released it, there was no Goddamn way that both him and his father were leaving this house alive.

Keeping his voice as steady and calm as he could, Robert said, “Henry’s a friend.

Only a friend. And we promised Clara that we’d make marmalade.

Somethin’ we could have on toast or pancakes later.

Go take a rest. We’ll call you when supper’s ready.

” Robert’s father narrowed his eyes. He chewed on his cheek like he was thinking this over.

Robert thumbed over his shoulder toward the bedrooms. “Go ahead, Pop. I can see how tired you are. Clara will be back with the kids soon, and I know how loud they can be. Ain’t no way you’ll sleep well once they’re here. ”

Raymond Davis stood there sucking on his teeth for a few moments, and then, wordlessly, he started toward them. Robert sucked in a breath through his nose, and his whole body went rigid. He’d maim that son of a bitch if he so much as touched Henry.

With a fake smile, Raymond smacked a hand on Robert’s shoulder as he passed, ignoring Henry completely. Thank God.

Both men waited, fixed to their spots, while Raymond made his way to his bedroom, and then, they waited some more. They waited and waited. And when Robert heard a faint snore, they each let out a long breath.

But Robert was still too embarrassed to speak, his tongue leaden in his mouth .

In a whispered voice, Henry said, “Oh, Robert, I’m sorry that . . . that he’s . . .”

“It’s fine, Hen. I’m fine. But maybe you ought to head home.”

Henry shook his head. “Why?”

“When he wakes up, it’ll be better if you ain’t here.”

“Oh.” Henry took a tentative step forward. “What if you come to my house?”

“I...” Robert’s chest tightened. “I can’t. I need to be here for Clara and the kids. When my pop is like this, he can be a real bastard.”

“Yeah, uhm, I can see that. But, then, maybe everyone else can come, too? My folks won’t mind them bein’ there for a while. We can have supper together, maybe.”

“Ah, I can’t put that on yer folks.”

“Yer not. I’m the one puttin’ it on them. And they won’t mind. I promise.”

Robert blew out a breath, puffing out his cheeks.

He really wanted to spend more time with Henry.

And it’d probably be better for Clara and the kids if they had a bit more time away from Pop, especially because he’d probably be a piece of work when he woke.

Robert could put a plate of food together for him for later.

He’d be mad, but Robert could handle his fury.

He had been takin’ the brunt of Raymond Davis’s wrath for most of his life.

Even before his mother’s passing, his father hadn’t exactly been a nice man, surely not to his kids.

And Robert had never not taken on the responsibility of protecting everyone, even his mother, from his father’s harsh words and even harsher physical blows.

Maybe the best way to protect everyone right now was to let them spend some time with the Sherwoods.

Or was he only trying to convince himself of that because of his Goddamn crush ?

“Please?” Henry said, his big, stupid puppy eyes shining with so much tenderness Robert could barely even stand to keep looking at him.

“Alright,” Robert relented, and the moment he made his choice, a little tremor of excitement rolled through his body, sending his heart a-flutter.

Perhaps Henry had sensed some of that excitement. Because the son of a bitch reached for Robert’s hand. With a barely-there shake of his head, Robert pulled back.

Immediately, Henry retracted his hand and stuffed it into his pocket.

“Sorry, Robert, I—”

“Henry.” Robert shook his head once more. “Not now.”

Henry seemed to crumple in on himself, and Robert swore he could feel the poor man’s heart crack. But Robert still hadn’t figured out what they could be.

“Let’s pack up them carrots,” Robert said, nodding toward the kitchen. “We’ll finish the marmalade together at your place. It’ll be fun. I still want to teach you how to make it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Of course.”

Of course Robert still wanted them to make marmalade together.

But, Goddammit, he wanted so many other things, too.