by Ariel Tachna
“I’ll get the cooler. You can go on around back if you want. The gate’s open.”
Owen almost hesitated and waited for Derek, but he wasn’t some shy retiring flower who needed a big, strong man to make him comfortable in an unfamiliar place. He knew Kit and Phillip, and he’d met Blake and Thane. He had no excuse for not walking around back by himself, so he adjusted his grip on the scotch, put a bit of a wiggle in his hips, and sashayed around back.
“Owen! Derek said you were coming,” Kit said, bounding up to him. “Trevor isn’t here yet, but you’ll get to meet him tonight.”
“Kit, breathe,” Blake ordered as he crossed the lawn and offered his hand to Owen. “Welcome to the madhouse.”
“If that’s what this is, I’ll fit right in,” Owen replied. Blake’s outfit wasn’t quite as flashy as Owen’s, but he’d definitely gone for the upscale gay look as opposed to the construction-worker testosterone look Derek and Thane were sporting.
Blake grinned at him. “Come on. We’re setting up drinks on the back porch. You can leave that there.”
“No, this is a thank-you for including me. It’s not for general consumption.” He handed Blake the bottle.
“Wow, this is…. Thank you.”
“I’m afraid it’s a regift. I don’t drink whiskey, but Derek thought you might appreciate it.”
“A bottle of Cardhu 18 Years Old? Yes, I’ll appreciate it. Are you sure you want to give this to me? This is prime stuff.”
“Like I said, I won’t drink it. I’m happy to give it to someone who will enjoy it the way it’s meant to be enjoyed.”
“In that case, thank you again. I’ll take this inside. Do you mind riding herd on the boys for a few minutes? They’re mostly responsible, but every once in a while they take leave of their senses and chaos ensues.”
Owen had done enough of that growing up too. The older kids and young adults were always responsible for the younger ones, giving the parents a short break. “I’ll keep an eye on them. Are they supposed to be doing anything in particular?”
“Setting up the tables and chairs under the trees,” Blake said. He disappeared inside the house just as Derek came into the backyard.
“Where are Blake and Thane?”
“Blake went inside. I haven’t seen Thane. Kit and Phillip are setting up tables. Blake said to put drinks on the porch.”
Derek lifted the cooler he’d been pulling behind him. Owen didn’t drool at the sight of his arms flexing beneath his tight T-shirt, but it was a close thing. He’d accuse Derek of showing off except he couldn’t really drag the cooler up the three steps to the porch. As Derek was setting the cooler down, Blake came back out on the porch, Thane trailing behind him, his gaze fixed on Blake’s ass. Owen smiled as Blake stopped to greet Derek and Thane slipped an arm around Blake’s waist. Blake turned to look up at Thane, and his smile transformed his face from unremarkably pleasant to charismatically compelling. No wonder Thane did anything he could to put a smile on Blake’s face. What he’d give for someone to look at him the way Thane was looking at Blake.
“They’re at it again,” Phillip said with a long-suffering sigh.
Owen looked over at him. “At what again?”
“Being disgustingly sappy.”
“They’re happy. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
Phillip shrugged. “Between them and Kit, I’m getting cavities.”
Owen laughed. “What about you? Derek said you’d invited someone.”
“We’ll see if she shows up. I… I don’t know. I like her, but I don’t think she likes me as anything more than a friend.”
“Nothing wrong with having friends either,” Owen said. “Dates come and go, but good friends are special.”
“Yeah, but I want her to be more than a friend.”
“Then maybe this is a good start,” Owen replied. “Are the tables all set?”
“Yes, everything’s ready. We know the drill. And right on time. There’s Trevor. Kit will be glued to his side the rest of the day.”
Owen turned to watch Kit greet a younger boy with a quick kiss and a huge smile. He startled when he felt a hand at his waist and looked up to see Derek beside him. “Come say hi to Thane before Kit steals you away to meet Trevor.”
Owen let Derek guide him over to where Thane and Blake stood, beers in hand. “Do you want one?” Thane asked, gesturing with his bottle.
“Maybe something nonalcoholic to start. If I have a beer now, I’ll be too drunk to enjoy the fireworks later.”
“There’s Coke or water and a variety of sports drinks. Whatever the boys grabbed at the store.”
“A Coke is fine.”
Thane handed Owen a can. “Kit, Trevor, what are you drinking?”
“Cokes, please, Mr. Dalton,” Trevor said. “Hello, Mr. Barnes.”
“Hello, Trevor. How are you? Enjoying your summer?”
Owen took his drink and retreated from the porch with Derek as more people poured into the yard. “Come meet everyone,” Derek said.
Owen smiled up at him. He’d meet anyone Derek wanted to introduce him to, but he wasn’t here for that. He was here to spend time with Derek.
SIX hours later, Owen had switched from Coke to beer and had drunk a few more than was probably advisable, but he’d had too much fun to care. He wasn’t driving anyway, and Derek had switched to water rather than beer hours ago, so it didn’t matter if Owen was somewhere in the vicinity of tipsy. He was feeling good in a way he hadn’t in a long time. Derek had spent the entire evening at Owen’s side, only leaving to get more food or drinks for them. He’d been everything Owen could have asked for in an attentive date, keeping Owen engaged in the conversation even when he wasn’t the center of it and making sure he had everything he needed.
And his hands….
Other than when Derek had gone to get something, he’d kept a hand somewhere on Owen since he set the cooler down. His arm, his leg, around his shoulders, brushing across his nape beneath the ends of his hair. Or like now, rubbing his thumb back and forth over the patch of skin behind Owen’s ear and leaving his skin buzzing. They hadn’t even kissed at the picnic, and Derek had him more worked up than Owen could remember being except when they were in bed together. He’d thought more than once about pulling Derek into a kiss, but he hadn’t. None of the other couples had been that overt in showing their affection, so Owen had taken his lead from them.
The sound of raised voices drew Owen’s attention. He looked toward the sound, only to see Phillip cornered by two girls. Owen couldn’t quite make out what they were saying, but one of them hauled off and slapped Phillip hard enough the sound carried clear across the yard. Owen winced in sympathy as both girls stormed off in different directions.
Next to him, Derek sighed. “That’s what he gets for trying to play the field. I love working with those boys, but I’m so glad I get to send them home at the end of the day.”
“Nothing good ever comes of stringing more than one person along at a time,” Owen agreed. He’d been on the other side of that equation with Leroy, so he had no pity for Phillip.
“Nothing at all. The fireworks are over. You ready to go? Tomorrow is at least nominally a workday, although I doubt the boys and I will be there as early as usual.”
“I’m ready. And come whenever you’re ready tomorrow. It’s a regular workday for me, but I gave Mel the morning off, so I’ll be awake, even if the store isn’t open yet.”
They said their goodbyes to Blake and Thane and walked back to Derek’s truck hand in hand. Derek reached for the handle to open the door, but Owen leaned against the pickup before he could get it open and looked up at Derek through his lashes.
“You don’t have to play coy,” Derek said softly.
“Then come down here and kiss me.” Owen could do direct if that’s what Derek preferred.
Derek didn’t hesitate, bending down to brush his lips against Owen’s, a far gentler kiss than Owen would have expected, given the teasing
all afternoon. A far gentler kiss than he desired. Derek had told him not to play coy, so he splayed his fingers across the back of Derek’s head and rose up onto his tiptoes to deepen the kiss.
Heat radiated from Derek, pressed along Owen’s length, all unmovable strength and imposing muscle. Owen had never felt safer, surrounded by the breadth of Derek’s body. With a different man, Owen might have felt dwarfed, even intimidated by Derek’s size, but with Derek, he felt only safety and desire. He arched his back, rubbing provocatively against Derek as he did. Derek rocked into him, letting Owen feel the line of his burgeoning erection. Owen smiled into the kiss. There was nowhere he’d rather be.
A car drove by, shattering the cocoon of intimacy brought on by the darkness and relative quiet of the street.
“If we keep this up here, we’re going to be arrested for public indecency,” Derek murmured against Owen’s neck.
“Then we should go somewhere else,” Owen replied. “My place is only ten minutes from here.”
Owen climbed into the cab of the pickup and scooted to the center the way he hadn’t dared on the ride over. Derek got in on his side and lifted his arm so Owen could tuck in close. Derek kissed him again, a passionate if swift promise of things to come, before putting the truck in gear and heading back down Main Street toward downtown. Derek stroked along the edge of Owen’s shirtsleeve where it met skin, the rasp of calluses heightening Owen’s anticipation.
Derek parked his truck on the street in front of Owen’s house and faced Owen again. Owen leaned up for a kiss, pleased when Derek met him halfway. Running his hand up Derek’s arm, he relished the curve of muscle beneath his palm. Derek swept his tongue between Owen’s lips, taking possession of his mouth. Tipping his head farther back, Owen gave himself over to it completely.
When Derek finally lifted his head again, Owen struggled to catch his breath. “You know, I have a lovely, large, empty bed upstairs.”
Derek traced Owen’s cheekbone with one rough fingertip. “I didn’t want to assume. I don’t ever want to assume.”
After the way Derek had treated him tonight, Derek could assume all he wanted, for as long as he wanted. It didn’t get any more perfect than this. “You didn’t assume. I asked.”
“Well, in that case, lead the way.”
Chapter Seventeen
IT shouldn’t have felt any different than any of the other times Derek had followed Owen around to the porch and the direct entrance to his living space. Even in his own head, Derek couldn’t pinpoint why this moment felt more significant than the first time they’d walked up those stairs together, but the pounding of his heart and the butterflies in his stomach insisted this was it, the moment of truth. If he went upstairs and made love to Owen the way he wanted to, there would be no turning back. He’d be admitting—to himself at least—that he’d fallen irrevocably for Owen.
The picnic had been everything he’d known it would be, full of food and laughter and friends, but it had also been so much more. Once upon a time, when it was just him and Thane and a bunch of friends, he and Thane had organized everything, and while everyone had been welcome, it had been their thing. Then Blake and the boys joined Thane’s family, and suddenly Derek was the lovable uncle, always welcome, but also the one who went home alone at the end of the day while the others stayed. Today, though, Derek hadn’t been alone. Owen had barely strayed more than a few feet from his side, and even when he had gone to get another drink, he’d always asked if Derek wanted something too. Derek had forgotten—no, he’d never truly known—what it was to be the sole focus of someone’s attention in a crowd, to be the person who mattered most. He’d never minded sharing with Brian, but after Marlene came on the scene, he and Brian had always taken second place in everything.
With Owen, he wouldn’t ever be second place again, not in any way that counted. Sure, they both had to work. Owen had his business to run just like Derek had Dalton Construction, but on a personal level, this was it.
He hadn’t realized just how desperately he needed that sense of security until it fell in his lap. Owen flipped on the lamp in his bedroom, bathing the room in soft light. Derek wished he had some candles to make it even more romantic, but lamplight would do for now. This weekend he’d set the stage at his house and bring Owen there for a change, and he’d tell him how he felt. For tonight he’d settle for showing him instead.
Owen reached for the hem of his shirt, but Derek caught his hands. “Let me,” he said softly as he pulled Owen’s T-shirt over his head. A part of him felt ludicrous for insisting on doing it himself when the result was the same either way, but Derek wanted Owen to feel as important as Owen had made him feel all day.
“Anything you want,” Owen replied.
Derek rubbed a hand over his own cheek to see how stubbly it was. He didn’t want to leave Owen with another beard rash.
“None of that. I like seeing the proof of what we do the next day. I like showing it off.” Owen leaned in closer and nipped at Derek’s Adam’s apple. “You could leave hickeys and I wouldn’t care.”
Derek groaned and took Owen’s mouth in a deep kiss, hoping the words meant Owen was as committed to their relationship as he was. A declaration bubbled up in his throat, but he channeled it into the kiss instead, into running his hands tenderly over Owen’s back and sides, into making him feel cherished, loved, adored.
Owen moaned softly into the kiss and sucked encouragingly on Derek’s tongue. Derek broke the kiss with a gasp and rested his forehead against Owen’s as he struggled to catch the ends of his fraying control. He couldn’t just toss Owen on the bed and ravish him, no matter how much he wanted to. He needed to prove first that he could treasure the gift Owen gave him each time he looked at Derek. He cupped Owen’s cheek in his hand and smoothed his thumb along Owen’s eyebrow as he nuzzled his jaw. Every nerve in his body was firing, and he needed to make Owen feel the same way.
“Derek?”
“Just taking my time with you, angel,” Derek replied, but he loosened his grip on his control enough to let some of his hunger come through in his kiss as he unbuttoned his shirt and stripped it off. Owen made a happy sound and pulled away to nuzzle Derek’s chest.
Derek groaned at the contact, his fingers clenching reflexively on Owen’s back as Owen licked and kissed his skin. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
Owen grinned up at him. “But what a way to go.”
Owen’s impish expression didn’t bode well for Derek’s control if he lingered too long, so he finished stripping them both quickly and urged Owen to lie back on the bed. Owen shimmied up to his spot on the pillow, and the sight of pale skin and long, smooth muscles made flexible from years of yoga nearly broke Derek right there. He followed Owen onto the bed and stretched out beside him so he could look—and touch and taste—his fill.
Reverently, Derek traced the line of Owen’s body, feeling the catch of his rough skin on Owen’s, but each time he thought to apologize, Owen squirmed or gasped or moaned his pleasure. Derek didn’t know how he’d gotten lucky enough to find someone who relished his construction-worker hands instead of merely tolerating them, but he would take it. And if a week or a year from now, Owen stopped liking them, Derek would invest in every lotion he could find to fix them. Anything to keep the desire and trust that shone from Owen’s brown eyes.
The same could be said for the stubble on his face. Right now Owen loved the feel of it against his skin, and Derek took full advantage, rubbing his cheek against Owen’s chest and belly and the insides of his thighs, but if it ever bothered him, Derek would switch to shaving at night instead of in the morning so Owen would have nothing but smooth skin against his.
For now, though, he drank in every gasp and moan as he used all the means at his disposal to drive Owen to the brink of rapture without pushing him over. He ignored his own straining need in favor of lavishing one more caress, one more kiss, one more lick, on Owen, each more intimate than the last, until Owen broke, pressing a condom int
o Derek’s hand as he begged for release.
As gently as he could, Derek pulled his slick fingers free and joined them together, heart bursting as he slid home. Home.
Home.
He’d spent his whole life searching for a place, a person, of his own, something that couldn’t be taken from him, and now he’d found it in the sweet, loving embrace of a bookseller from the mountains.
His heart sang as Owen cried out in ecstasy beneath him. Derek followed immediately, his vision narrowing until all he could see was the sated bliss on Owen’s face. Then even that faded as his own climax robbed him of breath and thought and space and time.
He collapsed on top of Owen, every gasping breath filling his lungs with the scent of sweat and musk and Owen’s cologne. The scent of home. He rolled to the side, pulling Owen with him, and rested his head on the pillow as peace settled over him.
Home.
Chapter Eighteen
DEREK hummed as he got out of the shower the next morning. He’d dragged himself home last night despite the overwhelming desire to never leave Owen’s bed. He didn’t have clothes for work today, and he’d needed a bit of space to contemplate the realization he had fallen in love with Owen—with his flashy style and his ever-changing hair color and the grounded sense of self that let him be true to those things—and to plan how to share that revelation. Preferably soon.
He had just finished toweling off when his phone rang. He flipped it to speaker mode. “Hello?” he said as he grabbed his razor to shave.
“You didn’t come to the family picnic yesterday,” Derek’s father said.
“Good morning to you too, Dad.” He rolled his eyes at his father’s tone. He’d known this would come when he’d decided not to drop by his family’s gathering for a few minutes before picking up Owen and heading to Blake and Thane’s.
“Don’t give me that attitude. You’re still my son, and I expect a modicum of respect from you, just like I do from your brothers.”