by Shannon West
“C’mon Travis, at least try to enjoy this. So we don’t have all the modern conveniences for a few days. It’s not going to kill you.”
“That remains to be seen.”
Camron raised an eyebrow, giving Travis a stern look, which he ignored.
Travis walked up on the porch, dropped the bags beside the front door, and crossed his arms. He knew he was being stubborn and bad-tempered, but he didn’t care. He was pissed and he felt like hell. Not only that, but he couldn’t understand why he had a half-hard on just at the idea of being here alone with Camron. He glared over at him as he bent down by the front door, trying to fit the key in the old lock. It was those damn tight jeans Camron insisted on wearing. They outlined his gorgeous ass perfectly.
Camron opened the door and stood aside to let Travis go in first. Travis stepped inside and snorted. It was a nightmare as far as he was concerned. Only one room, it was probably about sixteen by sixteen and covered in dust and, worst of all, cobwebs. Travis fucking hated spiders. Hated them—and had since he was a little kid. He had almost a horror of them, though he would die before he admitted it to Camron. He’d just think Travis was chickenshit if he told him. Hell, he was already treating him like a girl--so he kept his shivering to a minimum and looked around. There was a table, a couple of old straight back chairs and…no bed.
Travis turned slowly to look at Camron, narrowing his eyes. “And just where the hell are we supposed to sleep? There’s no fucking bed in here.”
“Yeah, the mice kept nesting in the old mattress I had up here, so I just got rid of it. And by the way, I told you that you need to clean up that language. You’ll be around my younger brothers and sisters a lot once you move in with me, and I don’t want them picking that up.” He went over to the table and picked up an old coffee can. “I’m starting you a cuss can. Every time you cuss, a quarter goes in. When you get up to twenty quarters, I’ll take it out of your ass.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“It means we’re going to fight again, I guess, since that’s all you seem to understand. What the hell do you think it means?”
“Oh, nice. One minute you’re saying we should sit down and talk things out like adults and the next you’re talking about beating my ass? Like you could!”
Travis glared at him, shaking his head. “I’m beginning to wonder if you would know how to act like an adult.”
“Fuck you, Camron.” He pulled out a quarter from his jeans and pitched it in the can. “Here. I’ll gladly pay for the privilege of saying that.”
Camron clenched his fists and took a step toward him, which had Travis turning away quickly and stomping toward the window, not feeling up to another fight right that minute. His head ached and his stomach hurt and all he wanted to do was stretch out on a bed somewhere—except there wasn’t one. He pulled back the curtain covering the window, hoping to let in a little light. The window was so damn filthy he couldn’t see out of the thing. “This place sucks. What am I supposed to do, sit up all night?”
“There’s a bed. I was trying to explain if you’d give me a chance.”
“Really? Because if you’re talking about sleeping bags, I can promise you that my ass won’t be sleeping on the floor with rats running around.”
Camron turned away in disgust. “I have an inflatable bed that’s pretty comfortable, and I set out traps for the mice. I don’t want to get the mattress out yet, though, till we clean up in here, so quit your bitching and let’s do it.”
Stubbornly, Travis turned back and leaned on the window sill at the same time a huge black spider, its body the size of a half-dollar, dropped from the top of the window and landed for a second on the back of his hand. He flung his hand wide and literally screamed, stumbling over his own feet and falling back on his ass, scooting halfway across the floor in his hurry to get away from the window.
“What is it?” Camron calmly stepped past him, found the spider on the floor and stepped on it. “My Lord, it’s just a spider.”
“Just a spider? That was a fucking Halloween decoration!”
Camron rolled his eyes. “It’s just a wood spider. There are a lot of them up here.”
“In the woods, yeah, but not the house! And don’t think I forgot about those rats in the bed! If you put the mattress on the floor, they’ll just crawl right in! How the hell do you expect me to sleep up here?” He reached up and clutched his head which had begun to pound about the time he fell down to get away from the spider. “Oh hell, my head hurts. Don’t you have any aspirin or anything?”
Camron pulled up one of the chairs and sat down, staring at him and shaking his head.
Travis groaned again. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m tired and my head hurts and my ass is sore, and I told you I didn’t want to come up here!”
“God, I never heard so much whining.” He took a deep breath and stared out the still open doorway. “Well, Travis, your daddy or your brother should have gotten this shit out of you a long time ago, but I’ve met your mama and I can guess she wouldn’t let them.”
“I told you to leave my mama out of this! She’s been good to me. So what?”
“I’m not saying a word against your mama. I’m sure she’s a fine woman. But she didn’t do you any favors babying you like she did. It’s time you learned how to man up when things aren’t going your way.”
“Well, hell, Camron, which is it? You want me to man up or do you want me to be your damn girlfriend? Maybe I’m not the only one who needs to learn how to cope.”
Camron got an angry look on his face for a moment and then nodded his head. “Okay. You’re right. I can’t have it both ways, can I? The truth is I don’t know how to treat you, Travis. I never had feelings like this about a man before. Part of me wants to protect you and baby you and take you to bed for about a week and make love to you. The other part—and it’s a big one—wants to kick your ass. It’s confusing as hell, because I know damn good and well you’re a man. I held the proof in my hand not an hour ago.”
Travis felt himself blushing and wondered where the hell that had come from. The “proof” in question was taking notice too and stiffening between his legs.
“I’ve never been attracted to a guy before—and I don’t think I ever will be again. There sure isn’t any other dude I want to fuck like I do you. So I guess it comes down to this. Man or woman, I want my mate to be somebody I can be proud of. Someone who accepts responsibility and has some pride in themselves. That’s the kind of person I want to build a life with. Does that make any sense?”
Still feeling sullen, his head pounding madly, Travis found it hard to concentrate, but he nodded his head. “Yeah, I guess so.”
“And you wouldn’t be feeling so bad right now if you weren’t so hung over.”
“I’m not! Okay, I am, but all this hasn’t exactly helped. You knew I was hung over when you came to the house today. Couldn’t you have waited for a day when I wasn’t?”
“Exactly when would that be? You’ve been drinking a lot in the last few months from what I hear.”
“How is that any of your concern, Camron? Who did you hear that from, anyway?”
Camron sighed heavily. “It’s my concern because you’re my concern now, whether either of us likes it or not. I run a business, Travis. People talk, and I listen. It seems to me that you have a drinking problem, and now would be a good time to take care of it before it gets any worse. Because I can tell you right now I won’t be mated to a drunk.”
“I’m not a drunk! Fuck you!”
“Is that all you know how to say, cause you’re beginning to sound like a broken record.” He stood up and looked down sternly at Travis. “That’s going to be another quarter. And anyway, I’ll be fucking you, boy. I think we’ve settled that.”
“Damn you, Camron MacKay. What do you think that my parents and my brother are going to say about you holding me prisoner up here and deciding what’s best for me?”
“Spencer kn
ows that I was bringing you up here, and he knows that you’re my mate. I talked to him about it, and he was going to explain it to your parents.”
Travis was furious. “Well, that’s just fu…that’s just great. I’m not a child, but everyone thinks they know what’s best for me and that they can make decisions for me like I’m too young and stupid to do it for myself.”
“You are pretty young, but I know you’re not stupid. And you’re not being held prisoner here, and you know that too. You came with me willingly once we got to the four-wheeler. I gave you a choice.”
Travis gave him a sullen look. “I thought that we were coming up here to have sex, not to do chores and get me sober.”
“I’m worried about you and so is your family so why don’t you humor us and at least give this a try? I’m hoping that we can work this whole thing out between us, but we can’t do it if all you do is stay high. I’m being serious when I tell you that I think you have a problem. Your brother and your cousin Hawke think so too.”
Travis’s mouth fell open. “You talk like you think that I’m an alcoholic or something.”
“Yeah, I’m afraid you are, baby—I mean, Travis. Or you’re well on your way. Anyway, I talked to the doctor before we left, and he gave me a mild sedative for you to take. He said you might get nervous and have the shakes, or you might even begin throwing up.”
Travis dropped his gaze, still mad, but feeling a little scared, too. What if it was true? What if he was addicted to alcohol? He had been drinking every day lately, and feeling more and more like he needed it to feel better. He didn’t like the idea at all, so he answered Camron’s accusation with bravado.
“I am not an alcoholic, and I don’t need any damn sedative, because I won’t be having any withdrawal symptoms.”
“Okay, Travis, I was just letting you know I had it just in case. If you decide that you need something, let me know.”
“Okay, but I won’t.” Travis was pissed and his adrenaline was flowing so he jumped up, grabbing a rag that Camron had put on the table and started wiping the table down.
Camron smiled and took out a broom from behind the door. “Here’s a broom and there’s a mop back there too, if you want to clear out some of those cobwebs and wash the floor.” He started for the door. “I’m going to get some water from the creek, so you can wipe that table down and clean the floors properly.” He turned at the door and grinned back in at him. “Oh, and if you get attacked by another spider and need me to kill it for you, just holler.”
Travis cast him a murderous glance. “Oh, very funny. If I see any more like that first one I’m out of here. That son-of-a-bitch was like an extra from Arachnophobia.”
Camron leaned against the door frame, smiling. “When I get back from the creek, I’ll chop some wood, and we’ll get that old wood burning stove going. It’s probably going to get chilly after dark. There’s a pump around here somewhere to blow up that mattress too, and the bedding is in that cedar chest.” He nodded to an old cedar chest by the window and turned to leave.
Travis kept wiping the rag on the furniture, though the minute Camron turned to go, Travis sank down in the chair and put his head in his hands. The damn headache was getting worse by the minute. It seemed to pound along with his heartbeat, and it was making him sick to his stomach. Shit, he wanted a beer in the worst way. He put his head down on the table and decided to close his eyes for just a few minutes.
The next thing he knew, he heard Camron coming back up on the porch. He raised his head to look up at him. “That didn’t take long. Is the creek close?”
“Not far,” he said, setting two pails of water down on the floor. We’ll walk out there to it after I chop some wood. Maybe it’ll clear your head to get some fresh air. Unless, of course you want to chop the wood.” Travis didn’t even bother to answer.
“That’s what I thought.”
“Then why the hell did you ask?” Travis yelled behind him. “I hate this place and I hate you.”
“We’ll see.”
“Yeah, right. And don’t say that.”
“Say what?”
Travis gave him a disgusted look. “We’ll see,” he said, in a sing song voice. “And damn it, I’m hungry, Camron. Is there anything to eat in this hell hole or are you planning on starving me to into submission?”
“If I thought that would work…God, you’re so melodramatic. I brought some bread, and some spam. A few cans of hash and chili and some beef stew. I even brought some peanut butter and jelly for something quick. And some Kool-aid packets too. I usually keep some sugar stored up here in jars along with flour for biscuits, and lard and some coffee. We’ll have plenty to eat. I thought we might do some fishing too. You do know how to fish, don’t you?”
“Well, it’s not that hard is it? You put a hook in the water. It’s not rocket science.”
Camron smirked. “There might be a bit more to it, but I’ll show you. The peanut butter and jelly and bread are over in my pack since you’re starving. I’m going to get some wood in so go ahead and make me a sandwich, too, while you’re at it.”
“Certainly, boss.”
Camron snorted and walked out the door, leaving Travis to make the sandwiches. He located the bread and peanut butter and found the jelly in a different pack, along with the packets of Kool-aid. He went on a search for sugar and found it in a big mason jar in the little pantry by the sink. He mixed it up, just throwing in a handful of sugar since he had no idea how much to use. He wanted a beer so badly he could almost taste it.
He had to admit that other than his headache and the craving for a beer that was almost painful, he liked being with Camron, and he wasn’t sure why he couldn’t stop the non-stop whining. Even if he could leave this miserable cabin, he wouldn’t really want to, because he wanted to be anywhere that Camron was. Camron must be right about this mate thing, because he had no idea why he felt that way. They’d done nothing but fight since early that morning. If he was right about them being mates, then maybe he was right about some other things, too, but Travis had no intention of admitting that to him.
Travis had finished making the sandwiches and had put them on the table, along with a glass of Kool-aid for each of them when Camron walked in with a load of wood in his arms.
“There’s more wood out there, but let’s eat before we get the rest of it in. We can stack it on the porch so it’ll be handy when we need it. Man, I think I’ve worked up an appetite.”
Travis didn’t respond, just sat down at the table and began eating. He was feeling worse by the minute. His head hurt and he felt edgy and a little nauseated. Maybe he would feel better after he ate, but right now he didn’t even want to think about carrying wood in. Bending over to pick it up would probably make his head pop right off his shoulders.
They ate in silence for a few minutes, which was fine with Travis, and then, Camron pointed to the old cedar chest across the room. “We need to get the blankets out of that chest and take them outside to air them out. We can drape one or two across the four wheeler. The sunlight and air will get most of the musty odor out of them before tonight.”
It really wouldn’t be a lot of trouble, but Travis was feeling contrary. The food hadn’t helped his headache or his stomach, as he’d hoped it would. He felt like crap, and he was way beyond tired of Camron’s orders, but he didn’t want to listen to him mouth anymore about how lazy he was. “Okay. Whatever.”
“What’s the matter—headache getting worse? You’re grouchy as hell, and you don’t look so good.”
“How observant. I feel like I was hit by a truck, damn it--my head’s killing me. And I’m tired of you giving me orders and telling me what’s wrong with me. If I’m such a piece of shit, just take me home and we’ll forget all about this mate business, which would probably be better for both of us anyway. Like you said, you’re not attracted to a man.”
Camron stared at him for a long moment, studying him. “Travis, do you want one of these sedatives that the doctor g
ave me for you?”
“No. I don’t need it. Now, just go chop the wood, or whatever, and I’ll get those damn quilts or blankets or whatever they are out and bring them outside to air out.”
Camron stood there for a minute, looking concerned. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure. Go on.” He refused to admit to Camron (or himself) that he might be right about the drinking and that he just might have a serious problem that was getting worse by the minute.
****
Camron was worried about Travis. He didn’t look good and was getting worse and worse as the day went on. He watched him bring the blankets out and drape them over the four-wheeler, but he was moving slowly and his skin was a sickly white. Camron hoped his drinking problem wasn’t more advanced than he’d thought. If so, they would need to get back down the mountain so the doctor could check him for withdrawal symptoms. If the stubborn little shit kept refusing the sedative, Camron would just have to find a way to force it down him for his own good.
Camron finished chopping the wood that they’d need and gathered up an armload to take it into the cabin. He put some of it in the old stove, getting it ready for them to light if it started to get cold in there, which it probably would after dark.
“Do you want to walk down to the creek, Travis?”
“No, not right now. Maybe I could take a nap.” His attitude seemed to be different in just the short time since he’d talked to him last. Sitting at the table, he looked half-asleep. He was subdued and couldn’t seem to get his eyes open all the way. Concerned, Camron went over to him and massaged the back of his neck. Travis arched up into his touch like the little kitten he’d called him earlier, and Camron couldn’t stop himself from dropping a kiss on the top of his head.
“Let me inflate the bed.” He found the pump at the bottom of the cedar chest and made quick work of preparing the bed. Once Camron finished and arranged it in a corner of the room, he went out to get the blankets for Travis to lie on. When he’d fixed the bed he called over to Travis.