by C J Baty
"What the hell was that all about?" Robert asked as they made their way out of the store themselves.
"Nothing," Damien said under his breath.
The snow and cold hit them in the face as soon as they stepped outside.
Robert grabbed the drink carrier so that Damien had a free hand to shield
his face from the blowing snow. Once inside the Jeep, Robert turned up the heat to warm them. He pulled out of the fueling area into an empty parking spot. They opened their sandwiches and ate. Robert couldn't let his curiosity go.
"Come on, Damien. What was that kid doing, hugging you like that?"
Damien took a drink from his soda and then stared out the windshield. "Too bad the snow and clouds cover the stars." Damien took a bite of his sandwich, still not looking at Robert. He shrugged before he spoke again.
"The kid was broke. He was asking people for a dollar so he could put gas in his car to get home."
"So, you gave him a dollar, and that's why he came back to find you and say thanks?" Robert asked.
"No. The store manager was getting ready to throw him out, and I figured, why not? So, I paid for him to fill up his tank." Damien shrugged and continued eating his sandwich.
Robert couldn't help but stare at Damien. There was so much more to Damien than he ever let the world see. Why? Why did he shut himself off the way he did? Why hide behind that wall of sarcasm? Maybe Robert would never understand him. It didn't keep his heart from beating just a little faster to know, somewhere behind the walls was a tender heart that cared about people. Robert asked no more questions.
The snow was coming down harder now. They had gone about ten miles when Robert's phone rang. He found a place to pull over so he could answer it. It was Marcus.
"Robert, where are you two?" Marcus asked. The phone popped and crackled as he spoke.
"We just left Lenoir City. We're about fifty miles out from Townsend."
"Be careful. The reports here say you’re headed into major snowfall. Those areas aren't used to this much snow, so there's no salt for the roads and limited plows. Backwoods areas will not have any help at all," Marcus offered. "The icy rain has almost stopped here in Atlanta, but the highway is a mess. I don't know when we'll be able to leave town."
"Hey, your phone is really breaking up," Robert said. "We're doing fine. The Jeep handles this type of weather. Once we reach the cabin, I'll call you and let you know we are there."
Robert was ready to hang up when Marcus added, "We've heard from the Houston police." The phone was silent for a second, then Marcus was there again. "They found... Carter's... in the car."
"What was that Marcus? You were breaking up," Robert yelled into the phone.
"Carter's fingerprints were in the car," Marcus repeated.
"Are they looking for him?"
"Warrant—"
And that was it; Marcus's phone line died.
"What is it?" Damien asked. He'd been silent while Robert talked to Marcus.
"Marcus's phone was breaking up, so I didn't get everything, but it sounds like the Houston police have issued a warrant for Carter. They want to ask him some questions about Winehouse's death."
Damien said nothing, just turned to stare out the side window. Robert pulled the Jeep back out onto the road. By the time they had passed into the Townsend city limits, Damien looked as if he had dozed off. He was snoring lightly when Robert made the cutoff on the road which led to the cabin. The road was not exactly a smooth trail, though, so it wasn't long before Damien woke, cursing the jarring.
"What kind of shit road is this?" Damien asked, righting himself in his seat.
"It's not a road, actually." Robert grinned. "It's more like a path with a little gravel on it."
"What the hell is that noise?"
Robert laughed. "That's the Little Pigeon River. You can't see it, but we're driving along the edge of it."
"Hell, I can't see anything. It's pitch black out here," Damien said. "It's a river?"
"Well, more like a stream right now. There are a lot of rocks in the riverbed and the water rushing over them makes that sound you're hearing. Most folks around here refer to it as roaring waters."
"How close is the cabin?" Damien huffed as the Jeep hit another rough patch in the road.
"About a mile to go."
"So, is this cabin of yours as rustic as the surroundings?" Damien grumbled.
"I don't want to be sleeping with any bears."
Robert laughed so hard he lost control of the Jeep for a second. "I've made a few upgrades over the years. You'll be fine."
Almost on cue, Robert saw the clearing that made up the front yard of the cabin and he pulled into a spot on the right-hand side.
"Home sweet home," he said as he opened the driver's door.
Chapter Sixteen
From the outside, it didn't appear like much of anything, but Damien was shocked when he stepped through the open door of Robert's cabin. The living area was spacious, with overstuffed chairs and two sofas surrounding a stone fireplace. Framed pictures sat on the mantle, of Robert and a younger man. They were smiling and laughing. Every seat in the room had a flannel throw lying across it. The brown and ecru tones of the furniture and their accessories exuded warmth and comfort. It was like coming home to a home he'd never had.
Across from the front door, through the living room, was an open kitchen, with a bar separating the two areas. High-back stools lined one side of the bar. The cabinets were all finished with a light pine stain, and the white appliances made it look bright and cheery. Damien even spotted a Keurig machine and carrousel with k-cups on the counter.
"You can see, this is the main living area and the kitchen. Through that doorway to the left is the hall to the two bedrooms and the bathroom."
"I'll sleep in the workout room," Robert offered, after he showed Damien the other bedroom and left his bags on the floor by the bed. "There's a pullout bed in the loveseat."
The bedroom furniture was sparse. A king-size, log-frame bed took up most of the room, with a dresser in one corner and a chair in the other. Damien followed Robert back out into the living room and watched as Robert started a fire.
Robert added branches and pinecones to the bottom of the grate and used a long match from a tube on the mantel to set them on fire. He waited until the flames were dancing brightly then added small logs to make it burn hotter. Finally, after placing a large log atop everything when it was burning steadily, he turned to Damien.
"I'll go turn on the generator and get the heat going. The shed it’s housed in is about fifty yards from the house. In the meantime, stay by the fireplace. It will keep you warm." He pointed at the couch closest to the fire.
"I'll turn the thermostat on. Don't be surprised when you hear the furnace start up. It can be noisy." He laughed. "The cabin will warm up fast after that. We can make coffee when the generator kicks in."
Damien sat down on the couch nearest the fireplace. He heard the back door slam as Robert left the cabin. He pulled a throw from the couch and wrapped it around himself. He must have dozed, because he stirred when the aroma of coffee filled the cabin, and it was only a moment later that Robert placed a steaming mug on the table beside him.
"It's just French vanilla, but it's hot and sweet, and that's what matters.
Right?" Robert's smile was sweet as well.
Damien relaxed on the couch and watched the growing fire as it danced with colors from yellow to orange to blue then red. It was almost hypnotizing and
he might have dozed off again if Robert hadn't been banging around in the kitchen.
"About all I can come up with tonight is spaghetti and garlic bread," Robert called from the kitchen. "Is that okay with you?"
"Anything is fine." Food wasn't something he was thinking about at the moment.
The effects of the medicine the doctor had put him on still had him off balance. His appetite hadn't returned to normal. All he really wanted to do was go to bed and sleep it off
. When Robert came to sit in one of the big chairs in front of the fireplace, he brought them each a beer.
"I realize you aren't much of a beer drinker, but I rarely have guests up here, so I stock what I like. We can go down the mountain in the morning and get groceries, if they haven't sold out of everything."
Damien didn't know what to say. Robert was going out of his way to make Damien feel at home and comfortable. The problem was, for the first time in his life, Damien was afraid. Though, it wasn't Carter and the threats that were frightening him. It was Robert. He was afraid that if he let just a little of his emotions out, he wouldn't be able to rein them back in. Robert made him want things. Things that he hadn't realized he wanted.
"Damien," Robert said. "Could you look at me for a moment?"
Damien steeled his feelings and smiled as he looked across the short distance between them into Robert's eyes. Those eyes that showed every emotion Robert had. Damien waited for Robert to speak.
"What's up? Get another call from Marcus while you were out?" Damien tried to steer the subject away from whatever those soulful eyes were trying to say.
"No, he didn't call." Robert put his beer to his lips but then pulled it away.
"I know you don't want to talk about what happened before. I get that. It's just that I want you to understand, I'm not mad," Robert said. He took a drink from his beer. Damien watched as he swallowed the cold brew. "It hurt. I'm not ashamed to admit that. For some crazy reason, I thought maybe there might be more for us." Robert stopped, then added, "I wanted there to be more."
Now Damien hurt. His heart ached and there was a pressure on his chest like an elephant was sitting there. If only he could be what Robert deserved.
His lungs weren't filling with oxygen and he was having trouble breathing.
The room was spinning.
"Damien. Come on, you have to breathe," Robert shouted at him.
Robert had crossed to where Damien was sitting, and now he raised him to his feet and shook him.
"Breathe. Come on. Damn it, breathe!"
Damien sucked in a great breath and let his lungs fill. When he exhaled, the pressure on his chest lightened and the dizziness stopped. There was no reason to have a panic attack over this. He pushed Robert away and forced himself to step back from him. He was too close.
"I can't do this," Damien told him.
He ran. Just like he always did from a situation he didn't want to face. Down the hall to the bedroom, slamming the door behind him. He slumped against the closed door and slid downward.
Damien sat there for a long time, listening to the sounds Robert made as he moved about the cabin. He heard water running in the kitchen, and the clinking of dishes. Robert's heavy footsteps on the wooden floors echoed through the cabin as Damien pictured him checking locks on doors and shutting off lights. The bathroom door across the hall closed. Water sounded from the shower, letting Damien fantasize.
He could picture Robert standing under the spray, his eyes closed as the hot spray relaxed tense muscles. The water dripped down his back from his soaked hair, and those hands—those big hands.... They rubbed circles over his chest and stomach, going lower and lower until—
Damien jerked his head back so hard it hit the door with a loud thump.
Lucky for him, the water was still running. The heavy weight of his shaft and the tightness in his balls ached when he stood. He wanted Robert, there was no doubt. Those wide shoulders and strong arms would have had him running in the opposite direction at one time. He didn't want to run away this time. Now he knew what kind of man Robert was. Caring and loyal.
Nothing—absolutely nothing—like Carter. When Robert Wyler loved someone, they would never doubt it. Damien still wasn't sure he deserved that kind of love.
Sleep didn't come easy. Damien lay awake and waited until Robert exited the bathroom and walked down the hall to the other bedroom. He held his breath when Robert's footsteps stopped by his door. It was the first time in his life he felt like a coward.
"You going to sleep all day?" Robert called from the other side of the door, after knocking. "Thought you might want to go play in the snow."
Damien pulled the covers back over his head and snorted. Him? Play in the snow? What a ridiculous notion.
"Come on, Damien. Get dressed. Breakfast is waiting and I want to show you around." Robert sounded excited.
How did he do that? Damien wondered as his feet touched the cold wooden floor. How could Robert sound so happy to be around him when all Damien
did was keep hurting him? He found a pair of thermal pants in his bag and carried them with him as he left the bedroom for the bathroom.
"It's about time," Robert said as he emerged. Then he laughed. "Whoa, you certainly don't wake up beautiful, do you?"
Damien stared at Robert. He was the beautiful one, with his hair pulled back in a ponytail and two days–worth of scruff on his face. His shoulders somehow looked larger than normal in the blue and green plaid shirt he had tucked into a pair of faded jeans. He saluted Damien, turning away, leaving him to watch Robert's ass move down the hall. Damien swallowed a groan.
He also realized he hadn't been quick enough to respond to the statement Robert had made. Robert had left him tongue tied. He smiled as he closed the bathroom door behind him.
The snowball hit him square in the chest with a loud thud . He stared down at the front of his parka, then back at the man who was sauntering in the opposite direction. Robert's shoulders shook as he walked away chuckling.
Damien reached down to the white moisture piled at his feet and rolled a good portion of it into a large ball. He smoothed the mound and added more snow, then repeated the process two more times before he let it go with all his might. The ammo reached its mark. Robert let out a howl as he grabbed the back of his head, pulling lumps of snow out of his hair. He turned to face Damien, and the smile on his face took Damien's breath away.
"You son of a bi...." Robert laughed as he grabbed another handful of snow and ran toward Damien.
"Shit!" Damien ran as fast as he could through the heavy mounds of snow covering the ground. He imagined flashes of Robert holding him down and rubbing that wet mess all over his face. "Oh, hell no!" he shouted as he continued to run.
Robert caught him when he slipped and fell face first into a deep pile of snow.
He was laughing so hard, he couldn't breathe as Robert rolled him over in the wetness and straddled his hips. Robert was laughing, too, still holding the snowball he hadn't released at Damien, his cheeks flushed from the chill in the air. Robert's lips, a rosy shade of pink, tempted Damien, and he reached up to touch them. Robert didn't pull away.
"You are the most amazing man I have ever met."
Robert's face grew redder as he attempted to stand. Damien grabbed him and pulled him down on top of him. The weight of Robert's body felt so good.
Heat radiated between them, even in the cold and wet snow.
"Damien," Robert moaned just before his lips took Damien's.
The snow and cold melted away. Everything melted away, leaving nothing but the tenderness in Robert's touch and the hunger in Damien's soul. It was the first time Damien had felt a hunger this overpowering. He wasn't sure,
yet, what kind of hunger it was, but it was there and he was tired of fighting it.
The kiss ended and Robert dropped another quick touch to his lips before he stood, his face shrouded with something Damien hadn't seen there before.
Doubt?
"I'm sorry, Damien," Robert said, offering him a hand. "I know you don't want that from me."
Robert pulled him to his feet. How could Damien tell him that he wanted it?
He wanted it more than he knew how to say. He needed to stop riding the fence and make up his mind. Justin had been right: he was letting his past keep him from a future.
"It's okay," Damien said, then added in what he hoped was a playful tone, "I know I'm irresistible."
Robert stared at him, then sno
rted. "You are something else."
Damien sighed a breath of relief and his heart beat a little faster. They walked around the cabin to the Jeep, side by side.
Chapter Seventeen
The man was going to drive him out of his fucking mind. There was no other way to explain it. One minute distant and cold, the next flirty and playful. If he could just figure out which Damien would show up when, he might have a chance to get his balance before it did.
Robert listened to Damien complain and groan about his driving as they made their way back to the main road.
"Is there another hole you can hit? That one wasn't deep enough."
Robert ignored the sarcasm.
"So that's the water that was making all that noise last night?" Damien asked as he stared out the passenger window at the Little Pigeon River.
"Yep." Robert expected a snappy comeback. Surprised when it didn't come.
"It's beautiful," Damien whispered. "Can you pull over? I want to watch it for a moment."
Robert slowed the Jeep, coming to a stop at one of his favorite places in the bend of the river. Boulders which seemed to have dropped from the side of the mountain dotted the water, snow packed down on top of them. Water hurried around and over them, causing ripples and rushes as it moved downstream. The rushing kept the water from freezing in place. Robert knew, farther up the mountains there were spots in the stream where no rocks lay. The shallow areas there would freeze solid. The rushing water roared as it moved on its way. It was both a wonderful sound and lonely too.
"I've been to many places in this world and seen nature in many shapes and sizes, but this is...." Damien hesitated for a moment. "This is soul-grabbing."
Robert waited a moment longer and said, "You ready to go?"
Damien shook his head as he continued to watch the running water.
"Roaring water," he mumbled. "The name is perfect."
Everywhere they looked, people were out enjoying the unusual amount of snow. Robert knew, some of the kids they saw building snowmen and having snowball fights had never seen this much snow in their lives.