Page 31 of In the Name of the Father

The other voice was of no comfort either. That was the one that shouted at Seth, telling him he could never be of interest to such a fine man.

Malcolm unscrewed the cap of the bottle then set it down on a simple glass coffee table next to the couch. “If you need anything else, let me know. But for now, I want you to relax the best you can.”

After settling himself on the farthest end of the sofa, Malcolm lifted Seth’s feet onto his lap. The moment Malcolm’s thumb brushed against the sole of his foot, Seth sputtered out a startled laugh.

“It tickles!”

Malcolm grinned. “Sorry about that, I swear it wasn’t intentional.” Malcolm moved his hand to the top of Seth’s foot and the touch immediately transformed to sensual. “I’ll start here until you get used to my hands on you.”

Seth shuddered, hoping Malcolm hadn’t noticed.Thank goodness for the thick robe and blanket covering me. Fortunately, Malcolm’s gaze was fixed on his task and Seth didn’t have to be concerned about being caught blushing.

As Malcolm continued rubbing his feet, Seth released the tension in his body. He hadn’t realized how much of a problem it was. When he’d sunk into the heated water of the bathtub, he’d noted how his whole body had seemed to exhale. Now, he was doing it again and it was all because of Malcolm’s care. He didn’t dare contemplate how long it had been since he hadn’t been wound so tightly that he was on the verge of snapping.

Gradually, Seth let go of even more tension, his thoughts drifting to the magical day from before that he’d spent with Malcolm. Visiting the serene vineyard and meeting so many nice people. Seeing the ocean for the first time. Malcolm calling him sweetheart and treating him as if Seth was his date at dinner. Even if the last part was made up in Seth’s head, he didn’t mind. The memory was still a wonderful one.

Right before he drifted off to sleep, Seth pictured one more fantasy that wasn’t true and would probably never be real. He imagined what it would be like to feel the press of Malcolm’s lips against his own.

* * * *

Malcolm glanced at the vintage clock on the fireplace mantel that he and Everett had purchased on one of their many antique-hunting excursions. Seth had been softly snoring for over two hours. He’d known that Seth would be physically and mentally drained after his emotional outburst from earlier, so he hadn’t dared move in case he disturbed him.

Monsters. Actual living, breathing monsters.

When he’d unsuccessfully tried to get lost in a biography of one of his favorite actors, he’d instead set down his reader then contemplated what should be done next. His plan to contact the pastor who officiated at Aiden’s wedding still held. Even if Seth refused to speak to a religious figure, perhaps the guy could give Malcolm some advice on how to proceed. He’d also concluded that once he found out the name and location of Seth’s church, he’d be forwarding the information to the proper authorities.

No matter what, however, his first priority remained with Seth. Whatever actions needed to be taken to go after the people who had abused Seth—and who were also hurting others—he didn’t want Seth involved. At least, not right away. And never, if Seth couldn’t face revisiting that nightmare.

In his mind and heart, Seth was his boy. Even if he never revealed the nature of his feelings or Seth ever discovered what it meant to belong to a Daddy who lived to protect and care for his boy—Seth would receive the same consideration as if that was the real dynamic between them. At least on an emotional level. It was unlikely their relationship would ever turn sexual. He doubted if Seth would want anything like that anytime soon, and especially, with an older man.

But Malcolm wasn’t blind to how much Seth blossomed when he was guided with a careful hand. Seth ached to have someone nurture and praise him, to remind him how special he was, that he mattered and was worthy of love and kindness.

And he needs control.

Malcolm frowned as he rubbed his scruffy chin. It wasn’t his place to take Seth in hand the way he would if Seth trulywashis boy. That could only be done with Seth’s explicit consent and understanding of what that dynamic meant.

Malcolm leaned on the couch arm with his elbow and rested his forehead in his hand. The tragedy of the situation wasn’t lost on him. After experiencing the most satisfying romance he could’ve dreamed possible, it had been torn from him. Then, he’d half-heartedly attempted to recreate that scenario with another boy, only to conclude that his one chance at happiness had come and gone.

Then Seth had burst into his life. The beautiful boy with the green eyes that radiated innocence and sadness was lying on his couch, wearing his robe with his feet in Malcolm’s lap. Here was what Malcolm had yearned for, yet it could never be his.

Life had a sick sense of humor.

But since Malcolm was the caretaker and experienced one between the two of them, it would fall on him to make sure Seth received the type of help he needed and not the sort that Malcolm wished he could. There were plenty of things he could do—even secret Daddy things—that Seth could benefit from without ever knowing Malcolm’s true feelings and desires.

The time they’d spent so far that morning had been ideal. Malcolm had been a sounding board, had reassured Seth, given him what affection he could without crossing inappropriate boundaries, then made sure Seth received aftercare when he’d broken down.

Malcolm held in a groan.That was a fine clinical assessment.

It was for the best. Better he got his head out of the clouds and kept things on a more detached level between them.

He doubted his heart could stand getting crushed again.

Chapter Eight

Malcolm stirred the soup he’d thrown together for his and Seth’s dinner. The rest of the day had been spent lazily watching a couple of classic comedies—once Seth had woken up—and discussing what Seth’s future plans might be now that his life was his own. The idea had been to get Seth’s mind working on what was ahead for him rather than what had dragged him down in the past.

First up on the agenda was getting his GED. Seth’s father had pulled him out of school to send him off to the conversion camp. And while he’d studied the Bible night and day at that hellhole, Seth had never completed his high school credits so he could graduate. Then Seth had talked about how he’d like to work with kids someday, maybe as a teacher’s aide. Malcolm had hinted that he could looking into becoming a teacher himself, but Seth’s low self-esteem was strong enough that he’d insisted he wasn’t smart enough to ever educate others.

Seth stepped into the kitchen, his movements hesitant, but at least he hadn’t asked for permission before he did. That had been another aspect of the ‘rules’ at the camp. The students weren’t allowed to go anywhere, eat anything or initiate a conversation without asking a counselor if it was all right.

---