Chapter 5

Becky’s turn:

A little house in the woods. Ever since I figured out that I wasn’t going to have kids, I thought that I wanted a little house in the woods, a little garden in a sun-lit spot in back, a neat kitchen with a great stove, a cozy living room, maybe a reading nook with a window out into the edge of the woods.

I imagined a fireplace, either a real, in the wall fireplace, or maybe one of those Scandinavian stoves with the window in front.

Trouble was, I never quite saw Keith there with me. I wrote the whole idea off as a vestige of my adolescent mind.

Tonight it all came tumbling back to mind. Catalyst? I saw Brad squatting down tending the fireplace. Cozy cabin? Fireplace. And THAT guy ... It’s like all the pieces came together.

There’s just that one thing. Brother. Sister. Does HE want it? Are we willing to go into this thing knowing that it will never be accepted by anybody who knows that one fact?

I wrapped my arms around myself while he fiddled with the fire. My arms. Self-hug. All I’ve gotten since I stopped getting ‘you poor thing’ hugs after Keith died. Until this weekend.

Brad stood up and turned. Yes, I wanted this. I could DO this. That’s half of us. We have the rest of the week for him to figure it out.

“Where’re you going?” I asked him as he stepped past me.

“Bathroom. Wash my hands. Et cetera.”

I could hear it. The washing of hands, the vigorous splash of ‘et cetera’, the whoosh of the toilet, and he was back.

“Got room for me on that thing?”

“You get your end, I’ll get mine,” I said.

We went back to reading. I caught him staring at me a time or two, made sure that my legs tangled with his. My turn to be domestic. Bottle of non-descript red wine. Apple cider. Store-bought mulling spice mixture. Honey. Cinnamon sticks.

“Mulled wine?”

“Isn’t it a perfect night for it?”

“It is ... Can I help?”

“You distract the cook,” I laughed.

The smells that arise from that concoction are wonderful. I handed my brother a steaming, aromatic mug, then sat myself demurely next to him. Left side. He’s right-handed. Let’s see...

Yep. Arm around me. Snuggle. Perfect. Triple warm glow. Warm drink, the alcohol, and a definite tingly feeling just thinking about the promise of that arm around me.

“This is pretty good,” he said.

“Thank you. Thought it might be something we’d share. I like it.”

“Make it for me a lot, Beck.”

“Nope,” I said.

“No?”

“One, it’s for special occasions. Make it too often and it’ll get ordinary. Two, this is a lot of calories and neither of us has the active lifestyle for that intake.”

“Practical. Okay. I’m sure we’ll have special times in our future.” He sipped, breathed the fragrant steam. Smiled.

We went through a second mug apiece, then a third.

“I’m gonna have to pee in the middle of the night,” he laughed.

“If you get up in the middle of the night, you’ll wake me up.”

“Then you can pee, too,” he chuckled. “Then we’ll both be awake and whatever shall we do to go back to sleep?” I giggled at him. Yeah. Three mugs. Pleasant little bit of buzz. Like I needed help. I collected the two empty mugs, deposited them in the kitchenette sink, then returned to Brad’s arms.

As I nestled in, he nuzzled my cheek. “I guess reading’s not on the agenda.”

“Unless you really want to,” I whispered.

“Nahhhh, I’m going back over what I read already.”

“So if we’re not reading, I’m NOT turning on the stupid TV.”

“There must be something we can do to entertain ourselves,” he said.

“I know,” I squeaked in a ‘little girl’ voice. “I could play with your pee-pee...”

And play we did. I got him naked and he got me naked and we played like two ten-year-olds discovering the wonders of the opposite sex. Okay, I played ‘little girl’ a lot. I mean, there’s part of me that would’ve liked to have been adventurous to do this when we were kids, at least a little bit.

I don’t understand why I’m affected like this. I was never like this with Keith, although we did play a bit, I just don’t think it did anything for him. On Brad, it gives him a stonecutter of an erection.

“D’ya like this, baby?”

“I love it,” he said. “Shoulda caught you when we were really that age...”

“Mom and Dad did the best they could,” I answered. “Probably saved me from all manner of things from my brother.”

“Yeah. Mom and Dad. Sure taught us self-control, huh?”

“Then what happened last night, baby,” I queried, punctuating with a little kiss.

“I dunno. The wine helped. But I think we needed each other ... Really needed you, Beck.”

“So it was lust?” I asked.

“No, I can’t call it lust. Very satisfying. Very welcome. But I needed somebody to love me. You did that. Us sharing each other was ultimate love.”

“But love,” I said.

“You know I love you. I know you love me. We’re family, Beck.”

“More than that, huh?” I pushed, bravely.

“Yeah, pretty much. Kinda scary.”

I took his face between my hands, got almost nose to nose with him. “Bradley, I LOVE you.”

“What a mess,” he sighed. “I love you, too.”

“Like that?” I asked.

“Yes, like that. So what are we gonna do, Beck?”

“You really want to know what I’d like to do about it?”

“Yes.”

“That little house. Just like I said.”

“Didn’t we already have this conversation?” he asked.

“Yes. Sex messes with my mind.” I giggled. “Yours, too.”

“It’s good sex.” He smiled, a fingertip tracing across my breast, circling a nipple. “Beautiful...”

“Mmmmm,” I purred. “Am I?”

“Yeah,” he sighed. “Exquisite.”

“How does ‘exquisite’ taste?” I asked.

“I dunno.”

“Lick me and find out...” I’m nothing if not subtle. The last twenty-four hours had taught me that THIS guy could make me come HARD. Just like ... Ahhhhhhhh ... now...

One good one and then he’s inside me, pumping. I have my heels digging into the backs of his thighs.

“C’mon, baby. Hard! Own meeeee!”

He does. Completely. Hotly. Wetly. We’re shaking in each other’s arms as he thoughtfully rolls to the side, not letting me go, dragging me to rest atop him.

“Beck?”

“Yes, Brad?”

“I wanna keep you.”

“Chained to the bed post? In a cage in the back yard?”

“At my side. In my life.”

“I want that, baby.” I kissed him. “Brad, you’ve been a good friend for a big brother. Tell me you’re not toying with me.”

“We’re not talking about who chooses what to watch on TV or whether I’ll drive you and your friends to the Mall. This goes both ways, Beck.”

“I’m tired of being alone and I’m tired of the games I see and I want to be safe and secure and loved.”

“We’re still sharing some brain matter,” he returned, kissing me lightly.

“It shouldn’t be wrong, Brad,” I sighed. “We’re not a drag on society. We’re not going to have children together. They should just let us be.”

“They will,” he said, “because there’s no way to know. We’re two adults living together, sharing a house, cutting expenses ... Any place we go, we won’t be copulating in the public square...”

“I’d copulate with you anywhere...”

He laughed. “You’ve always been Little Miss Modesty and now you’d do your brother in the park in broad daylight?”

“I never knew you’d do THIS with me and we’d be so stinkin’ GOOD at it together.”

“Still ... in public, we’re brother and sister with common interests, at least in places where people might know us.”

“We can do that. I never was one for public displays of affection anyway,” I said. “Although with you, I might change...”

“Don’t change...”

“I won’t. I’ll take care of you and you’ll take care of me,” I sighed.

“Just like right now...”

Time to lighten up. I giggled. “I am well and truly taken care of. Wow!”

“Two nights in a row...”

I giggled. “I’m really happy, Brad. I’m just beginning to get the feeling that this is all real. That you won’t wake up screaming, toss me out of bed, go jump off a bridge in remorse...”

“That’s a two-way street, Beck. We were raised to be sane and moral...”

“And this is insane? Immoral? We’re adults,” I said. “Who’s getting hurt here?”

“Neither of us, if we avoid...”

“I am NOT going to get all morose tagging this with ‘incest’ tags. Brad, I feel ALIVE, don’t you understand? Alive. It’s GOOD, don’t you see?”

“Beck, I feel like that. I’m afraid of YOU. FOR you.”

“Stop worrying about me. I was afraid of that whole dating game, Brad. I didn’t want to get back in the game, fall for some guy who would lie to me, get me married, treat me like shit, run around on me ... I had friends that went through that. And once you’re on your second or third husband, then you just give up. Brad, I couldn’t be an easy slut.”

He stared at me.

I kept going. “Don’t you see?!? I was afraid one of them would catch YOU and hurt YOU. Dammit, Brad, I’m the BEST one for you.”

“You DO realize that we’re trying to protect each other...”

“I see that,” I said. “So just give up. You. Me. And we stop worrying about the other getting into an inappropriate relationship...”

He laughed. “We’re brother and sister. This IS an inappropriate relationship.”