by Ashton Cade
I nod, giving Mr. Bell the friendliest look I can muster. “You and I both know Carson’s gonna worry himself sick if you don’t let me look you over. Why don’t we just get it over with so he can leave you alone?”
The old man grumbles, but finally gives in, letting me lead him back to an examination room, leaving his grandson waiting behind.
I run through a full exam, looking for bruises, scrapes, anything broken. I check him for signs of being concussed, anything like that. But I think the old man’s right. He seems fine. Might be sore in the morning, but he’ll be fine. Of course, when I relay that info to Carson, Mr. Bell whoops triumphantly and jabs a finger at his grandson.
“I told you I aingt made o’ glass yet,” he says.
“He can take a couple of ibuprofen if he’s sore. A hot bath might help ease some of the stiffness, too, but I don’t see anything worrying,” I say, almost regretting giving Carson the good news.
He sighs, shoulders slumping. “Of course he’s fine. Thanks anyway, I appreciate it.” I don’t know whether to laugh or feel bad for him as they leave. I know Carson doesn’t want anything to happen to his grandpa, but him being right about this one isn’t going to bode well for future arguments Carson has with his octogenarian relative. Mr. Bell will probably be able to point at this day as a reason why he shouldn’t go to the doctor for years to come—if we’re lucky.
Of course, the odds of him being around—let alone being cognizant enough for that—aren’t good.
Sometimes I hate knowing the odds behind things like this. You can always hope, but numbers don’t lie.
Just after four, my cell phone rings. I’m mopping with headphones in, trying my best to avoid any opportunity of small talk with Dr. Peterson, but the ring cuts through my music and nearly makes me drop the mop. I fumble with my phone, with the earbuds, getting everything out of the way as I answer, frantic to make it happen when I see Garrett’s name on the ID. The cord for my headphones is still tangled around my fingers and dangling as I bring the phone to my ear.
“Hello?”
“Hey, sorry to call you while you’re at work,” he says, like he didn’t think about it till I answered.
“That’s okay,” I say quietly, moving farther away from the door that leads to the back. I’m in the farthest corner of the waiting room, the most privacy I can possibly get without going outside. “What’s up?”
“I know this is kind of last minute, but would you be up for a change of plans?” he asks, nerves evident in his voice. Nerves for what? My heart jumps in my throat.
“As long as you’re not pushing up the time,” I say, thinking of Dr. Peterson and his family eating dinner nearby, his beady eyes finding me while I try to enjoy my time with Garrett.
Yeah, no thank you.
Garrett chuckles softly. “No, no. Nothing like that. I’ve got a cousin visiting from out of town and my mom’s making me feel guilty about going out. You wouldn’t want to come to dinner at my family’s, would you?”
The fist around my chest loosens a bit.
Dinner at Garrett’s family’s? Not only is that well out of the reach of Dr. Peterson’s lecherous gaze, but that makes this thing with Garrett feel way more real. He’s inviting me to dinner with his family—that’s not really something you do when you’re just “curious” or “experimenting.” Maybe I haven’t been fair with Garrett about his inexperience. Maybe he really is as sincere as he claims.
It’s getting harder and harder to doubt.
“Yeah, sure, why not?” I answer, smiling despite myself, forgetting all about the stuff that’s been weighing on me all day long.
“Really?”
I laugh and shake my head. “Well if you’re gonna sound so surprised, maybe I should change my mind.”
“Nope, too late. You’re committed now. I’ll send you the address.”
“Sounds good, see you later,” I say, hanging up, a knot of nervousness tightening in my gut.
I was anxious enough about a date with Garrett. Going to dinner with his whole family?
Well, at least I’ve met most of the Rainiers before, but never like this.
I do my best to stay out of my head—and out of Dr. Peterson’s way—until we close up and go our separate ways. He gives me a lingering look as he gets into his shiny SUV that makes me feel like spiders are crawling all over me, but I shake it off and head home for a quick shower and change. Then I’m right off to Garrett’s parents’ place.
Derick Rainier runs the stables around here, and a sprawling farm to boot. The house they’ve got on a hill looks big enough for the whole Rainier clan, not just a portion of it. But it’s not ostentatious. It’s homey, welcoming, friendly—just huge. Kinda like the family itself, I guess.
My heart’s in my throat as I walk up the front porch steps and hold my breath before knocking. The door yanks open the second my knuckles touch the door, and Garrett’s on the other side, beaming at me.
“I heard you coming up,” he offers as explanation for his quick door-work. “Come on in!”
The sounds of laughter and conversation fill the house from the moment I walk in, and I start to wrap my arms around myself, not sure how to act around a big happy family like this.
“Let me take your coat,” Garrett says, sliding his fingers over my shoulders to pull it back. His fingertips glide over my, barely a kiss of a touch, but it makes me shiver, eyes drifting closed on a silent sigh that I shove away before he can see it.
Or do I?
The little smirk he’s giving me seems to suggest he knows exactly what just happened and what my reaction to him is. It doesn’t help that he’s standing so close to me, overwhelming me with the outdoorsy scent of him, the mixture of damp earth, fresh growth, clean mist in the air—Garrett exudes mountain energy in a way I didn’t even know was possible.
“Hey everyone,” Garrett says, leading me into the dining room where there’s nearly a dozen people seated, all turning to look at me as I walk in behind him. “This is my date, Eli,” he says, gesturing around the table. “That’s Clary,” he says, pointing to an unfamiliar face. The cousin from out of town? “And… You probably know everyone else more than they know you,” he jokes, pulling out a chair for me.
“Welcome Eli,” Aislynn, Garrett’s mom, says with a warm smile. She’s a nice lady; always playing second fiddle to Sheryl, but always nice. And Sheryl’s got nothing on her pastries, that’s for damn sure.
“Thank you, Mrs. Rain—”
“Aislynn, please,” she says.
“You didn’t tell us you were bringing a date,” Ryan teases his brother, earning a look from his own partner.
There’s a distinct feeling of awkwardness hanging in the air, a feeling that no one really knows what to do about me, and I feel like this was a mistake. I shouldn’t be here. They don’t want me here.
“You work at the clinic, don’t you?” Garrett’s dad Derick asks, sipping on a beer. Aislynn’s bringing hot dishes to the table with the help of one of her daughters—I don’t know them well enough to know which—and I’ve got the feeling that I’m going to have to go through a little third-degree before the tension dies down.
“I do, yeah. Been there for a few years,” I say, thanking Garrett when he offers me a beer as well.
“You a doctor?” he asks.
“Dad,” Garrett hisses.
“Nurse,” I correct him. “MD’s just a fancy abbreviation for higher insurance premiums,” I say, trying to stay casual, to not get defensive. It’s not easy.
Derick chuckles and tilts his bottle toward me. “Smart man,” he says.
Aislynn sits down with the rest of us, and it’s no time at all before everyone’s piling their plates high with food. It doesn’t take long for me to realize that the awkwardness I felt when I came in wasn’t anything personal. The Rainiers are warm and welcoming, funny and kind—I think they were more surprised at Garrett bringing home a man.
Of course he wouldn’t have thought to ment
ion it. For someone so open and so wise, Garrett can be kinda naive sometimes about other people.
The only person who doesn’t seem to warm up to me at all is his visiting cousin Clary. I don’t know what problem the guy’s got, but he keeps looking at me like I’m the fly in his soup.
By the time dinner’s over, I feel like part of the family. Aislynn’s scolding me about my sleeping habits, Troy’s asking all kinds of questions I don’t know the answers to, and Derick’s very interested to hear about my investment choices, modest though they may be. Garrett walks me outside to my car, his truck parked nearby. We live in opposite directions from here, though.
“Thanks for inviting me over. I had a really nice time,” I tell him.
He smiles, kicks at the ground. “I’m glad you came. And I’m glad my family didn’t scare you off.”
“Quite the opposite,” I say, licking my lips, looking up at him. I’m at my car door, and he’s standing here with me, looking down at me like he might kiss me. And I want him to. I want him to kiss me more than anything right now, but I don’t have the guts to ask for it or to go for it on my own.
“Why don’t you come over for breakfast in the morning? I don’t have any work for Craig to do, but you can still come by.”
I grin, hooking my thumb into my belt loop, trying not to be too eager. Immediately I want to suggest we make it breakfast in bed. I want to make it clear how badly I want him, how he’s been on my mind, in my dreams, making my blood run hot and my cock hard every free moment I’ve got to think about him—and some of the moments I really shouldn’t be thinking about him.
But it feels too soon. This is new for Garrett, and I don’t want to rush him. I don’t want to do anything that could jeopardize how good this is going, because it’s better than I could have imagined. Going to his place every morning has become a routine I look forward to. I don’t even mind getting up a little earlier when I know his smiling face is going to be there to greet me.
“Sounds great,” I say, yanking open my car door before I can make the foolish choice to lean in and take the kiss I so badly want. “See you tomorrow!” I call, closing the door and driving off into the night, heart still hammering in my throat.
Guess that wasn’t a complete disaster.
Garrett
“Ready to head out?” I call to Clary as he descends the porch steps. He’s staying with me while he’s in town—there’s no room at Mom’s with May home from school, but I wouldn’t wish that circus on anyone anyway. The night’s chilly, but I don’t notice the zip of ice in the air; I’m still feeling hot. I’m still fighting the urge to chase after Eli and kiss him senseless the way I’ve been wanting to for the past week.
Tonight was supposed to be my chance. Our date night. Then everything got messed up with Clary and the family dinner. But it wasn’t as bad as I thought it might be. Eli seemed to get on all right with my family, tossing around jokes with them—some even at my expense—but he still hurried out of here before I got a chance to steal a kiss.
Maybe it’s for the best. Clary’s got a weird look about him as he approaches, his brow furrowed, mouth pinched tight.
“Yeah, I am,” he says, climbing in the cab without another word.
I sigh. What now?
No telling what my cousin could be upset about. I thought it was a perfectly pleasant night. Wonder what ruffled his feathers.
I don’t say anything as I get in, buckle up, start the truck, and pull off down the long dirt drive to the main road. I don’t say anything, but Clary’s obviously fighting to hold his tongue, looking like he’s got a hot coal in his mouth the way he’s squirming and making faces.
“Will you just spit it out already?” I finally blurt, foot pressing harder on the accelerator when we hit blacktop.
“What?” he asks, doing a shitty job of playing dumb.
“Clary,” I groan.
He presses his lips together, then huffs. “You’re not gonna wanna listen to me, I know it, but remember you brought me here to consult you on your run for council and—”
“What’re you getting at, Clary?” I growl, fingers twisting on the wheel.
“It’s not a good idea for you to come out right before the election,” he says all in one breath. “It’ll cost you votes. Votes you can’t afford to lose.”
I roll my eyes, shoulders relaxing a bit. “I’m not coming out,” I say. “I just happen to be casually dating someone that’s a man. I don’t see what it has to do with my ability to function on the town council.”
“Coming out” implies I’m gay, which I’m not. I’ve never been gay, and I don’t think my attraction to Eli changes that. I like people; all kinds of people, all types, all shapes—they’re beautiful. And many of them—man or woman—are sexy as hell to me.
Eli in particular.
But do I think I need to explain all that to people so they’ll feel better about voting for me?
No way in hell.
Clary’s not seeing it my way, though. He sighs and shakes his head.
“That’s all well and good for you to say, Gar, but this is still Umberland. It’s still a small town, and I don’t think people are going to be as tolerant as you expect.”
It’s starting to get on my nerves now. Why does he have to make a big issue out of this? No one else is. No one gives a damn about anyone else’s unconventional relationships in this town, but Clary’s not getting it. He’s having trouble believing Umberland folks could be that accepting.
“Look, you may not believe me, but this town’s more progressive than you’d think. It’s not gonna be an issue in the election, so we don’t need to worry about it.”
Clary makes a face, looks like he’s going to argue with me, but I hold up a finger, taking a breath.
“And another thing… Eli’s coming to breakfast in the morning. I’d appreciate you not bringing up these concerns around him. He’s a sweet guy and probably too nice for his own good. He’d be crazy enough to listen to you.”
I can tell Clary doesn’t appreciate my tone, the sharp look he gives me in warning. But we’re family, and none of this is serious enough to have a real fight about—not yet at least. If he makes trouble for Eli, that could all change. Eli doesn’t deserve that. I know Clary’s only trying to look out for me, trying to do what he thinks is right and getting me elected. But I want to serve Umberland and this area as me. I don’t want to compromise who I am or what I believe in, and I don’t think I’ll have to. I think Umberland and I have a lot in common—I’ve just got to get that to translate.
We head to bed without saying anything else, and I’m up before dawn, nervous energy coursing through my veins, making me jittery and restless.
I head out early for a pre-dawn hike up the trails around the back of my cabin. It’s peaceful out here, and the trail’s rugged enough to get my blood pumping. It’s just the thing for easing out of pre-date anxiety, and when I’m coming back down the trail, I see Eli’s car in the drive.
Guess I was gone longer than I meant to be. The sunrise over Eagle Peak is not to be missed on a clear day like today, though. I’m sure he’ll understand.
“Hope you haven’t been waiting too long,” I say, quickly shrugging out of my coat as I bustle inside. Clary and Eli are at the reception desk, both with coffee in hand. Eli smiles, gives me a little wave.
“I got here a couple minutes ago. Coffee’s still full,” he says, tilting the mug enough that I can see the proof. I didn’t doubt him, but it makes me smile. Is that silliness intentional?
“Aunt Sheryl’s invited me over for a pancake breakfast, so you don’t have to worry about me being in your hair,” Clary says, sending me a look before he grabs his own coat.
“Tell everyone hi for me,” I say, not watching him as he leaves, stepping up to the desk to Eli instead.
“Morning,” I say, grinning at him. Just seeing him here has a way of brightening my mood. I look at Eli and there’s a million possibilities. There’s nothing I lo
ve more than possibilities.
“Morning,” he answers, his voice shy, coy, enticing in a way I hadn’t expected.
“How do you feel about bacon and eggs?” I ask, forcing myself to focus on anything other than the slight curve of his lips, the soft beckoning call of his light, fluffy hair. I wanna run my fingers through it. I wanna pull him to me and kiss him, make him whimper and moan. I wanna feel his lips wrapping around me, my fingers clenched in his hair as he makes my toes curl.
I swallow. So much for not focusing on that stuff.
“What, no pancake breakfast for me?” he teases.
I laugh. “I’m sure Sheryl would be more than happy to have us, but I kinda wanted some alone time with you.”
His face warms at that, the laughter dying on his lips as his tongue darts out to wet them, eyes going dark and hooded.
“No objections here,” he says, raking his eyes over me unabashedly. His gaze lights a fire in my core, a spark that builds and grows, pulsing in my veins—but mostly in my cock.
I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anyone so much from a look.
Gathering every scrap of willpower I’ve got, I force myself to step away from the front desk, walking back into the house, into the kitchen, assuming he’ll follow me. It’s not easy to drag myself away from him and the way he’s beckoning me, but I’ve gotta keep my head on. I really like this guy and I don’t want to screw things up.
“How do you like your eggs?” I ask, turning on the stove, pulling out pans, cooking spray, a spatula, the whole deal.
He shrugs. “I’m easy,” he says, the words such a plain innuendo that his surprised look makes me laugh.
“That’s not what I—”
“It’s okay,” I laugh. “Obviously it’s not true, or we’d be a lot nakeder,” I add with a wink.
His jaw drops a fraction, a flush creeping over the bridge of his nose.
“Here I thought you were making flirty banter,” I tease. His face goes even redder.
“Oh God… Yes, can we say that’s what it was and pretend this didn’t happen?”