...They pulled into a driveway and past a white two-story house to a small ranch-style farmhouse behind it. Don parked the car and got out. Bran opened the door, and Don was there, holding out his crutches for him. Bran nodded his thanks and got himself set to push out of the vehicle without braining himself on the roof or falling back into the seat.

“This is my place. The house up front is Uncle Fred’s. This is the old homestead and Uncle Fred’s lived here since he was born. I stayed in his house while I renovated this one.”

Bran didn’t get a chance to check it out until he was on the porch. The walk was rough, so he had to concentrate on not falling. He turned to see Don studying the ground they’d just covered.

“I think I’ll get Henry over here to smooth this out. Maybe put in some bricks or slabs of cement. I’ve been so caught up in getting the actual house done I didn’t think about the outside.”

“It’s all right. This place looks nice, and you did the work yourself?”

Bran was impressed. The floors were polished hardwood with a few area rugs to warm it up a little. The living room walls were painted a sky blue with white trim.

“Yep. It was therapy for me, in a way. I was homeless for two years before Uncle Fred found out about me and came to find me. He gave me this house and told me I could do whatever I wanted to it.” Don whirled around in the middle of the living room with a happy expression on his face. “Oh, there were some things I couldn’t do because I just didn’t know how to do it, but the painting and floors I did myself.”

Resting on his crutches, Bran smiled as he watched Don kick off his shoes and wander down the hall. He couldn’t take his shoe off without leaning against something, so he went into the living room and plopped down on the tan couch. Don came back in with a questioning look, but it disappeared when he saw Bran taking off his shoe.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I forgot about that.” Don blushed.

Without thinking, Bran reached out and grabbed Don’s hand, pulling the man down next to him. Don gasped, and Bran couldn’t help himself. Those plump lips called to him and all his thoughts about taking things slowly went out the window.

Slipping his hand around behind Don’s head, he tilted his chin before he brought down his mouth to introduce it to Don’s. He didn’t take the kiss deeper or further, just rubbed their lips together and nibbled along the seam, not asking for any more than Don wanted to give him.

Don whimpered, his hands landing on Bran’s hips as he allowed Bran to guide their encounter. It was only when Bran’s lungs begged for air they broke apart, chests heaving, and Don stared at him in shock.

“I hope you don’t mind. I just couldn’t help myself. I’ve wanted to do that since I saw you at the door.”

“I don’t mind at all.” Don touched his lips with his fingertips and blushed. “Can we do that again?”

“Sure, but what about dinner?”

“I put lasagna in the oven. I made one the other day and froze it. It’ll be about twenty minutes before it’s done.”

“Good.” He wrapped his hand around Don’s arm, tugging him until he straddled Bran’s lap.

Don tensed for a moment when their erections rubbed against each other. Bran ran his hands up and down Don’s back, hoping he was soothing him and not making him nervous.

“What’s going on in your brain?”

The handsome man in his lap ducked his head, and Bran stuck his finger under Don’s chin, lifting his face until their eyes met. “You can tell me. I promise I won’t laugh or get angry.”

“I’m afraid I won’t do any of this right.”

“Any of what?” Bran frowned.

“Having sex. Making love. Whatever you want to call it.”

Bran narrowed his gaze, thinking of how shy Don had been with him. A thought popped into his head. “Are you a virgin, Don?”

“God, this is so awkward.” Don struggled to get off Bran’s lap. “I know I wouldn’t be able to do this.”