FH: Just Found Heaven Ch. 04: Ben

Sam had been endearingly awkward around Noah when he'd been delivered fully clothed, snug in his baby car seat the first time Catherine had left him with us overnight while she and Raul visited friends. He'd just stared at Noah quietly while Catherine rattled off a verbal list of feeding times, and other baby related babble. Outwardly Sam had looked calm and relaxed, offering a gurgling Noah his finger so the baby could grip it happily. Noah had kicked his feet so hard beneath his train printed blanket that it kept shifting around, and I'd seen Sam tensing subtly. I'd known him well enough by that point to recognize when he was uneasy, and getting stuck in his own head. But he'd smiled at Catherine before she'd left, making the appropriate reassurances that Noah would be fine, even joking that if he could handle himself around enemy combatants, he'd be fine with a four-month old.

Fortunately for Sam's nerves, he hadn't seen noticed Catherine or I smirking at each other behind his back when we'd both seen right through the false bravado. He also hadn't seen Catherine draw the sign of the cross in the air behind Sam's head before she'd scooted out the door to meet Raul who'd been waiting in the car.

I knew that Sam had helped raise his oldest niece Adelyn for the first year and a half of her life before he and his brother Connor had enlisted in the military, and that Sam had spent time with Emma as a baby whenever he'd been home on leave before he'd detached himself from his family for three years but he hadn't had any experience with infants since then. Sam had said he was rusty. I'd read through the lines.

Sam had trouble believing his own value about a lot of things, and being a good father figure was something he heavily doubted he could be, even though it was obvious to anyone with eyes how devoted he was to his nieces.

It'd taken a couple of hours of on and off again coaxing and encouragement to convince Sam to actually pick Noah up, and entertain him while I started dinner but by the time the table was set, I couldn't pry the baby away from Sam. Noah had spent the duration of dinner that night tucked securely in the crook of Sam's right arm while his newest uncle ate awkwardly with his left hand. After dinner, Sam had carefully situated Noah's little blue plastic baby tub inside our deep farmhouse sink to bathe him. He'd been quiet the entire time, concentrating on keeping Noah settled comfortably with one hand on the baby's back while he'd gently rinsed the apple shampoo out of Noah's sparse hair before swaddling him up in his baby towel with the silly monkey hood.

I'd pretended not to watch so that Sam wouldn't feel self-conscious but I snuck glances every chance that I could, unable to hide my smile when Sam leaned down and pressed the gentlest kiss to Noah's little forehead before he carried him out of the kitchen. I'd found them in the living room together after I'd finished unloading the dishwasher. Sam had been sprawled on his back, asleep on the couch with my nephew securely curled up against his broad chest in his dinosaur pajamas with Sam's wide, strong hand resting gently on his small back. Noah had also been asleep, obviously knowing he was safe and protected. I'd leaned against the wall and just watched that snapshot of tender devotion until I finally got my fill for at least that one night, and then woke Sam up to put both him and Noah to bed. Since then, Noah spent more time with Sam than he did with me because Sam's work schedule allowed him more flexibility than mine did. I also knew that being around my nephew, and looking after his safety and welfare fed into some of Sam's naturally ingrained, protective instincts, and settled him. He'd be an amazing father when we had our own children, even if he didn't see it yet.

"Escupir bebé es sagrado."

Catherine grinned at me. "It doesn't matter how holy baby spit is. It'll still show up in your wedding photos on that sateen fabric. Give me my kid."

She laughed when I held Noah out of her reach. Catherine was short even in her wedge heels, and I was strong enough to balance my nephew over my head with one hand in a loving game of keep-away. But even in that precarious position, Noah gurgled happily, knowing I'd never let him fall.

"Not a chance. Noah quieres su tio favorito and wants to give me something borrowed for the wedding. Some spit stains, and a few crumbs held in safekeeping will do nicely. Sam will approve."

"Of the spit and crumbs probably but he might have a problem with your delusion of being his favorite uncle since we both know Noah prefers to watch Paw Patrol with his soon-to-be tio Sam on the couch."

Her dimples popped out as she teased me. I eyed her as I rolled Noah back down into my arms so I could press another kiss to the top of his head before gently rubbing the sign of the cross against his right temple.

"My ego will remain intact until Noah starts talking."

Catherine giggled as I handed her son back over, planting a few of her own kisses on his face and arms until he cooed, and accepted the goldfish crackers she fished out of a hidden pocket on her dress.

"So, are you ready to join the ranks of the happily married? Because if you're not, that's going to be a tragic waste of a ridiculously well put together wedding archway of actual fully decorated, potted Christmas trees on either side of the arbor. Wait till you see the ballroom. I can't imagine the electric bill for tonight."

"Emma has a vision. Thankfully Sofia managed to redirect it enough that we missed out on balloon animals made to look like Olaf. And yes, I've been ready for this day for months. Hopefully Sam is too."

"Oh, he is," Catherine said with a slow, knowing smile that made me quirk an eyebrow.

"I'm not supposed to tell you this, but as your baby sister who loves to interfere as needed because she adores you, I think you need to know about what he did because it's sweet, hermanito. Just don't let Sam find out that I told you."

I grinned when she put a finger to her lips, and Noah innocently mimicked her. I made fish lips at him before returning my gaze to my sister.

"Okay... You have me properly intrigued. Go ahead."

"Sam asked for permission before he proposed to you."

My right eyebrow arched immediately because that was complete news to me. "Permission from who?"

"From all of us. Even mami and papi."

My left eyebrow joined the right as it lifted and held. "How did he manage that? He hasn't even met anyone."

My sister's smile warmed. "He called me first because obviously he knew that he'd get my vote. I gave him everyone else's number, including mami and papi's. Sam called all of them to ask for their blessings."

"He did?" I knew I sounded like a parrot repeating everything Catherine said but I was both shocked, and touched by the unexpected, sentimental act from my normally reserved fiancé.

Catherine smiled again. "Sam's extremely focused when he sets his mind on doing something which is really cute, and very sweet considering how stoic he normally is. Must be from all those years of following military rules."

My lips twitched because I knew just how much I privately benefited from that single minded focus of Sam's when we were behind closed doors. But to track down all six of my brothers and sisters without me knowing about it, especially knowing how strongly two of them felt about me being gay, much less my parents...

Catherine's expression softened as if she'd read my mind. She reached out to squeeze my shoulder gently with the hand not holding onto Noah. "Rebecca wouldn't talk to him. Neither would mami and papi," she said, confirming my silent assumption that some members of my family wouldn't ever be happy for Sam and I. "But Sam still tried, and that's a big deal." She paused, then added, "Michael's here though."

I blinked at that bit of news. My surprise was apparently going to know no limits today. Our oldest brother Michael, and our oldest sister Rebecca had both always sided with my parent's stances about homosexuality being unacceptable, and I'd never spoken to Michael after that horrible night in the kitchen.

I swallowed hard and closed my eyes for a moment because I could feel the hard sting of tears behind them. "He's really here?"

"Yes, he is, in his Sunday best. He even had Sandra and the kids with him in the second row. He said he wouldn't know how to say he was sorry for everything that happened between the two of you, so he figured that if you could see him up close, front and center, you'd know."

I nodded because my throat suddenly felt too thick for words since Michael was right. My older brother had never been big on sentimental expression, a lot like Sam in that way, but he'd always gone big with gestures, and this was probably the largest one he'd ever made.

"I should go talk to him."

"You can talk to him after the ceremony. Today is about you, and that tall, stacked drink of water who melts around my kid like frozen yogurt on a warm day. I know you're used to putting everyone else first, but for today you get to turn off your minister mode, and just enjoy being a man in love." She grinned at me. "Besides, we don't want to ruin the surprise for Sam when he sees you walking down the aisle. I already told your photographers that one of them needs to be focused on Sam's reactions when he first sees you. Everyone always looks at the person walking down the aisle when the music starts, but it's the person waiting for them at that altar that always shows every ounce of feeling in their heart because the attention isn't on them. Considering how reserved Sam is normally, I really want to capture see everything in his eyes so it's preserved in history."

I felt my expression soften before I leaned in to brush a kiss across her cheek. She patted mine gently with her hand, and Noah held out a slightly mushy looking goldfish cracker half clenched between his fingers. Catherine made a gagging noise as I dutifully leaned forward with my mouth open so that my nephew could shove both the drool dampened cracker, and his tiny fist into my mouth.

Noah chortled gleefully, and Catherine made another face. "He's my son and even I wouldn't do that. So gross. You and Sam are going to put us all to shame with your dynamic daddy duo."

"Sam is dynamic in sooo many ways all on his own," I said, then laughed when she grimaced and pretended to cover Noah's ears as she zoomed my nephew out of the room.

I could hear her laughter lilting down the hall.

Alone again for the moment, I finished putting on my own cuff links, wondering in lazy amusement if Sam had managed to get his own on. Whenever we attended any kind of event together, I always had to help him when he got frustrated. The man could face down enemy insurgents without blinking, but he was routinely defeated by little pieces of decorative metal.

I grinned as my phone went off. When I looked at it, I saw a reply to the message I'd sent Sam earlier in the morning. It was only a simple heart emoji but it was leaps and bounds from his previous stoic rules of romantic conduct. I'd have to thank Adelyn with a gift certificate to the mall for helping Sam enter the world of emojis.

Chuckling again, I considered using a more creative string of emojis as a response but settled for duplicating Sam's simple heart. No need to overwhelm him. It was going to be a praise filled, joyful day, but also one that was filled with a lot of people and social situations which I knew Sam still struggled with so I'd go easy on him for now. At least until we exchanged our vows, and Patrick gave us permission to seal our promises of eternal love with a kiss. Tara had already told me that there was some planned catcalling from the three women in Sam's family who were his biggest fans. I'd considered warning Sam but there was nothing wrong with a little loving teasing, especially when it colored the tips off his ears, and the blush that spread across his cheeks made him look so much more vulnerable than he liked to admit he was....

***

I could hear laughter wafting from the direction of Sofia's kitchen, just past the foyer when Sam opened her front door. The smile in his navy-blue eyes accentuated the one already tilting up the corners of his lips even before he swept me with a slow, appreciative look. His grin deepened to match mine when I returned his once over with a deliberately obvious one of my own.

In a deep blue, button down dress shirt that emphasized the almost indigo color of his eyes, and a pair of fitted black slacks whose hem properly brushed the tops of his black leather shoes, Sam looked like a completely different man than the quietly damaged but generous and devoted one I'd gotten to know over the last few weeks; a man who usually ran as far and fast as his feet could take him away from me and the unexpectedly deep bond we'd been forming from the first time we'd met. Since the dress clothes were a far cry from Sam's usual limited rotation of either dark BDUs or well-worn blue jeans with t-shirts--most of them decorated with vintage cartoon characters due to his endearing inability to say no to his little niece Emma about almost anything-- I suspected he hadn't dressed himself but I still appreciated the effort.

Sam was simultaneously the most uncomplicated and yet most complex man I'd ever met in my life. Between working with my parishioners over the last few years and the less than holy work I'd done in my past life as an escort, I'd known many men in so many different ways that no one after that should ever have been able to surprise me. But Sam continued to do it on a daily basis. He was unique; someone who'd been lost and would willingly have remained that way regardless of personal cost if it helped others. Someone who'd sacrifice everything for the family he loved with complete and steadfast loyalty-- a rare and precious quality that Sam was usually unable to see in himself even though that character element was woven throughout the entire length, and width of his soul. It was one of the reasons that I'd kept chasing him every time he spooked and retreated because he wasn't ready yet to accept what I saw in him. But it wasn't the only reason.

Sam was a good human being, but he was also unconsciously sexy, considerate, and open to the idea of completely submitting to me in bed to let me take him where he needed to go during that privately spent time. He wasn't classically submissive, so feeling comfortable enough to relinquish his carefully built layers of control and trust me when he was at his most vulnerable, meant more to me than he knew.

Years ago, I'd hooked for many reasons, and one of them, albeit a minor one in comparison to the intense complexity of the others, was that once I was with a reputable agency, and treated reasonably well with more choice over my clients, I'd enjoyed the sex. Being newly out and cut off from my family for being gay, my choices had been to either curl up in a corner and fade away or do the best that I could. Getting paid to have the sex I wanted to explore anyway had made sense at the time. I'd enjoyed feeling warm hands on my body, inviting my pleasure while they took theirs. Sex could be fun, great cardio, and sometimes a way to open doors to new and unexpected possibilities, like the one it'd opened to my relationship with Charlie. But sex without love was like a flower without scent; exotic, exciting, but devoid of anything to make you want to linger. When Charlie had died, I'd decided that I was done with engaging in soulless relationships.

After I'd been ordained into the ministry, I'd only been with one other man romantically. Aaron, the owner of a local flower shop who'd been the one to inspire that particular analogy about love and sex, was a good person. For the three months we'd dated he'd treated me with respect, and affection. The sex had been good the few times we'd slept together, and we'd been a comfortable fit. But like those sneaky pieces of a puzzle that could masquerade as the correct ones in an empty slot because of how closely they resembled the piece that actually belonged there until you found the real one, we hadn't been perfect. And although I was aware that nothing in this world is perfect and that infinite beauty can be found in flaws, when it came to the idea of finding the person who I'd spend the rest of my life with, I wanted as close to perfection as I could manage. Sam, with all of his pain, hope and character forming imperfections, was my definition of the ideal I needed to create my happily ever after.

That slight smile curving Sam's lips as he held my gaze steadily instead of glancing away like he used to, the relaxed set of his jaw, and just the general sense of serenity surrounding him, seemed a lifetime away from the broken man in the midst of a panic attack who I'd saved from himself at the funeral home almost 3 months ago. Sam was beginning to find his footing, and where his personal pieces fit into the puzzle of both his family's lives, and mine. A point proven when he reached out and curled my hand in his securely to gently pull me into Sofia's home. He let go almost immediately to lock the door behind me but Sam so rarely initiated casual affection even though he was happy to accept it, that it was a small and precious victory to me.

"Hey Sam, you look good. A step up from desperate and needy."

"Shut up," he said, laughing at the tease instead of bristling or shutting off--another victory. "Come on in. Sofia and the girls are in the kitchen. They baked cookies."

"Oooh, cookies. I'm getting the VIP treatment."

I followed behind Sam as he walked further into the house, admiring the long length of his muscled form that I now knew from up close and personal carnal experience, looked even better out of clothes than it did in. At 6'4, with long legs, and that broad shoulder span, I couldn't see around his body but I heard Emma's happy announcement of, "Father Ben's here!" followed by Sam's sigh when a wolf whistle came on the heels of her broadcast. I doubted that it'd been from her, and I didn't know if the tease was at my expense or Sam's. Either way it didn't matter, but if the appreciation was for Sam, I agreed.

"Catcalling a priest... Jesus," I heard Sam mutter though he was fighting a smile as he wandered deeper into the kitchen toward the large center island to filch a cookie from the red ceramic plate resting on the edge. He handed me the cookie before he took one for himself; a small, unconscious courtesy that made my smile deepen. The cookie was still warm from its time in the oven, and the sweet scent of chocolate added that extra touch of home to the tender soul of a family I'd always cared about but was beginning to fall for as deeply as I was for Sam.

The chocolate chips melted into a deliciously sweet ooze across my tongue after I bit into my cookie, my inner sweets-loving foodies appreciating the sugar as much I did Sam's movements when he did the same, and the tip of his tongue appeared to swipe a streak of chocolate off the appealing, subtle curve of his lower lip.

"You guys look like my boy dolls when they marry Barbie!"

Emma's cheerful declaration made my eyes widen, but Sam didn't share my amusement. Instead, he sputtered around the piece of crunchy sugared dough and chocolate chips that surprise had prompted him to temporarily choke on until Adelyn launched off of her stool on the other side of the island to whack her uncle firmly across the back a few times.

Sam coughed out the offending piece of pastry while I looked everywhere except at him and tried to keep a straight face. Unfortunately, I lost that battle when Emma added, "or uncle Sam can marry Father Ben and then he'd be our uncle Ben! I can get my Barbies right now so they can get married!"