by M. Tasia
“Saint, open your eyes.” Max’s voice again. “I’ve got you. You’re safe.”
Saint’s eyes flew open. Gone were the trees, mud, and blood, and replacing them were Max’s concerned green eyes. He had a hold of Saint’s arms. Behind him in the doorway stood Alejandra and Max’s grandmother.
“I didn’t want you to risk reinjuring your hands,” Max said and released Saint’s arms.
This wasn’t happening.
Saint felt the blood drain from his face. He’d had a nightmare in front of Max and his entire family.
Saint had no other choice. He had to leave.
***
Max stepped down off the metal ladder to answer his phone. He’d spent all morning fixing the loose boards on the north side of their barn. This property was less a working farm and more a sanctuary. His family had taken in its fair share of displaced, abused, and disabled animals of all kinds over the years.
“Max here,” he answered without looking at the screen.
“Hey, Max, how’s it going?” Miguel asked, and Max could hear the hammers and saws in the background.
“Repairing the barn again before I have to go out and pick up my mom’s latest adoptee. How are things going at the building?” This morning he’d received an email outlining the damage the water leak had caused. It wasn’t as bad as he’d first thought, but you never knew what could turn up in an old building.
“It’s coming along. We should have the mess cleaned up by Sunday. But that’s not why I called.”
When it became apparent Miguel wasn’t going to tell him without prompting, Max asked, “Okay, I’ll bite. Why did you call?”
“I remembered where I heard the doc’s name before. Do you want the rundown?”
Max looked across the training ring, where two horses grazed, and at the backyard where Saint and Max’s mom were sitting out on the patio. The man looked ready to run last night after Max had woken him from his nightmare. Fortunately, once Max’s mom and grandma had a chance to calm him down, they were able to convince him to stay.
Max knew he’d gotten a glimpse of some of the horrors Saint had been through. His screams of terror and pain were now burned into Max’s memory forever.
“Is it safe for him to be around my family?” That’s what mattered most.
“Without a doubt. Saint isn’t a threat to anyone. The opposite in fact.”
“That’s enough. If he wants to tell me he will. Until then, I’ll respect his privacy,” Max quickly responded in case his friend divulged too much.
“Understood,” Miguel stated. “Also, I won’t be coming to dinner tomorrow night.”
“Why, what’s wrong? The guys can take over for you there.” Was there something Miguel wasn’t telling him? They’d worked together for almost a decade and had been friends since they were kids. Miguel didn’t sugarcoat his words, he told you straight, and to your face.
“No…no, everything is fine. I’d rather stay and keep an eye on things here, though.”
Max found that odd but let it go. He had enough on his own plate. “Okay, I’ll see you when I drop Saint off.”
“Sure, man. Then you can tell me how your weekend with the hot doctor went,” his friend teased before disconnecting the line.
Max looked up at Saint once again. His arms were slowly waving in the air as he talked, and the smile on his face was electric. Max wanted to see that happiness more often in the sullen man and planned to make it happen as often as possible. Why is his happiness so important?
Miguel’s words had made Max even more curious. No threat, the opposite. While it was good to know Saint wasn’t some psycho, not as if he’d thought that to begin with, Miguel’s words held a mystery to be solved. Max would have to wait for Saint to tell him what happened, if he ever would.
The loud clang of the lunch bell broke him from his thoughts. Max lowered the ladder to the ground and gathered up his tools before heading for the house. They had two full-time farm hands who helped his mom keep a handle on this place while Max was in the city working.
His father was MIA. Took off days after Max was born. It didn’t matter. He couldn’t miss what he never had. He, his mom, and grandmother had worked hard and thrived without the sperm donor. Last Max had heard, his father, Jacob Connor, had buried himself in his Navy career and never looked back.
As he walked toward the house, Max’s gaze connected with Saint’s. By the time Max entered the backyard, he had a completely new plan.
The only problem would be coaxing Saint to his way of thinking.
Chapter Five
“Come on, it’ll get you out of the house,” Max said as if Saint somehow needed fresh air. He’d been on the patio most of the morning with Max’s mom.
“If you haven’t noticed, I’ve already managed that,” Saint replied as he gestured to the wide-open space he was currently in the middle of.
Max’s mom, Alex, laughed, then collected the lunch plates and walked back into the kitchen through the large patio doors. Saint liked Alex and Grandma Evie. They were the complete opposite of everything important in his father’s world. They held no pretention, no subterfuge or falsehoods. What you saw was what you got. In all the places to find this, Southern California wouldn’t have been his first guess.
However, he was quickly beginning to realize there was more to his new home state than he’d originally thought. Sure, he could disappear into the throng of people in LA, as he’d planned, but now he knew people, good people, who seemed determined to pull him out of his self-imposed prison. He wasn’t sure he wanted that.
Max stood over him with that annoyingly handsome grin on his face. How the man could be charming and irritating at the same time was a mystery.
“Go with my grandson, it’ll be good for you,” Grandma Evie urged as she sat down at the table cupping her tea in her hands as if it were priceless.
“See, now you have to come along. No one goes against the matriarch of the Connor family.” Max spoke as if he’d won, but Saint hadn’t agreed. As if reading his mind, Max continued, “Go ahead, tell my grandma no.”
Saint didn’t like the smug look on Max’s face. He turned to face Evie to tell her, “No. I’d rather not go to the rescue center,” when the elderly woman stared him down, as if daring him to say it. He had held his own with his father, but after only a few seconds, Saint huffed out a deep breath and looked back at Max. There was no way Saint was taking on Grandma Evie.
“I’ll go bring the truck and trailer around,” Max said in response to Saint’s unspoken agreement. That smug look morphed into a full-blown smile, annoying Saint even further. He watched as Max walked toward the barn, his muscled arms and broad shoulders tapered down to a trim waist. His long legs and firm ass encased in a dark pair of jeans. Saint swore Max was putting a little extra swing in hips.
“You ogling my grandson?” Grandma Evie asked before blowing on her tea.
Saint spun around. “No, ma’am.” Great, now he was outing himself and he didn’t know how these people viewed the LGBTQ community, and he didn’t want to get into a repeat performance with anyone who held the same beliefs and prejudices his father had. Besides, Saint wasn’t even sure if Max was gay.
“That’s a shame,” she announced before sipping her tea.
The water Saint had sipped a moment ago sprayed from his mouth and onto the grass. Before he had the chance to respond, Max’s big white truck was pulling up towing a livestock trailer. What were they going to pick up?
After saying good-bye to Evie, Saint took off at a slow clip. He hated how tortured his body was, and how incapacitated he felt. It took a little bit of effort to climb into the beast of a truck, but Max remained behind the steering wheel.
Max seemed to understand that Saint needed to project that he was a man able to take care of himself. He didn’t need anyone’s help or pity.
The drive took them farther into sandy, semiarid land the color of amber, with foothills and rocky cliffs. He could see Palom
ar Mountain to the south and Mt. San Jacinto to the east. Saint knew there were wineries in the valley but had yet to glimpse one of them. Yeah, he’d stayed up and researched the area after everyone had returned to their beds. He wasn’t risking another nightmare under the Connors’ roof. He’d scared them enough for one visit.
Gated ranches and estates dotted the two-lane highway, along with roadside markets and tourist stops. While he’d been scoping out Max’s fantastic ass as he hammered away at the barn, Alex and Evie had given Saint a Temecula run-down. Not too long ago, the area had been populated with mostly ranches and few residents. But urban sprawl took over and now about 120,000 people lived here, and the wineries helped fuel a healthy tourist industry.
As he watched the dusty hills roll by, Max said, “You might as well get comfortable. It’s going to take us over an hour to get to the rescue center. I brought a cooler filled with bottles of water and soda. If you want anything, help yourself.”
“Thank you.” Saint saw the small cooler on the backseat and twisted to grab it. The pain was sharp, freezing him in a sort of half-twisted position as he breathed through the burning in his abdomen.
“Shit, I’m sorry. I should have thought that through and put it in the front,” Max growled as he pulled over onto the side of the road.
“It’s not your fault. I should have known better.” Saint had no one to blame but himself.
“But I dragged you along. I should have been more cautious.” Max fussed as he unbuckled his seat belt, and twisted around to grab the cooler and set it on the ground by Saint’s feet.
People did not have to be cautious around him. “I’m not an invalid.”
“I never said you were,” Max responded, looking a bit taken aback by Saint’s statement.
“I can take care of myself.” Saint knew he was overreacting but couldn’t seem to stop himself.
“I am well aware of that, but this time let me help you.” Max’s voice rose in response to Saint’s tone.
“Knock yourself out,” Saint huffed.
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
Max grumbled as he leaned over the center console and reached into the cooler. “Water or soda?”
“Water’s fine,” Saint snapped without even looking in Max’s direction. He was embarrassed by his hostility toward the man.
Max pulled out a frosty plastic bottle, cracked the top open, and handed it to him. Without saying another word, Max slid his seatbelt back on and pulled out onto the roadway.
The silence was deafening. Saint was being a dick to someone whose only fault was trying to help him. What have I become?
“Hello, my name is Saint Jeffrey, and I’m an asshole. This is my first visit to Assholes Anonymous.”
At first, Max didn’t respond, but slowly a smile spread across his face and morphed into an honest laugh. “Welcome, Mr. Jeffrey. On a scale of one to ten, how big of an asshole are you?”
Saint couldn’t help but laugh. “I’d say I’ve reached maximum output.”
“Well, you’re definitely outputting copious amounts.”
“I agree, and I’m sorry. I don’t have much control over my anger at the moment, but that doesn’t mean I can take it out on you.”
“Listen, I can’t even imagine what you’ve been through, but I’m not your enemy. Honestly, I want to help you and your building.”
“Heaven.”
“What?”
Saint looked out his window, shocked he’d let that slip out. “Nothing.”
Thankfully, Max let it go. He was beginning to understand that Max wouldn’t let the statement drop. He’d bring it up when he though Saint could handle it. For sure, now was neither the time nor place for that conversation.
“Truce?” Saint asked.
Max stretched out his hand and Saint carefully shook it. “Truce, now we’re friends.”
“Friends? Let’s not go that far,” Saint teased, bringing that handsome smile back to Max’s face. Even if he wasn’t gay, Max would certainly be great eye candy around the building.
“So, you have any family?” Max asked. “You’ve already met all of mine.”
“No father?” Saint asked, habitually steering the conversation away from him.
“He couldn’t be bothered to hang around,” Max explained without emotion.
“Sometimes that’s not a bad thing. I prayed mine would disappear, preferably into a sinkhole.”
“No love lost there?” Max asked.
“The only thing I consider a loss was the death of my mother when I was a child.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It was a long time ago.”
“It still matters, Saint.”
“Have you ever wondered why I’m called Saint?” He gave Max a rueful expression, knowing full well he had.
***
“Ummm…it has crossed my mind,” Max admitted, automatically regretting his former thoughts that Saint was a pompous ass.
“My first name is Francis, Frank, officially. My mom had beautiful gardens, but her favorites were her orchids. We’d…ah…go there when things were difficult in the house.”
Max got a feeling he knew what the “difficult” part was. With what Saint had said about his father, it had to have something to do with that man.
Saint seemed lost in his memories when he carried on. “We used to take care of the orchids together. Me, my mom, and my little brother, Johnny. I miss that time most of all. As I grew, she began to notice that animals would approach me unafraid. I never thought anything of it. I loved having the animals around. I don’t know how many times Mom found me out in the forest behind our home surrounded by rabbits, deer, chipmunks, and all sorts of furry animals. At first she was afraid they would hurt me, but over time it became apparent none of them were aggressive toward me.”
Saint stopped to clear his throat before continuing. “She called me her little Saint Francis of Assisi. After she died, I refused to answer to anything other than what my mother had called me: Saint. I was still a child and my father believed I would grow out of it. I’ll be thirty-nine this year.”
Max focused on the road as he fought back tears for the boy who lost his mother. He couldn’t imagine what he would have done without his own mom. She’d been Max’s rock, his safety, strength, and sounding board. Saint had grown up without any of the things Max took for granted. True he had a father, but from all indications, he was not father-of-the-year material.
“I like it.”
Saint turned away from the passenger window to look at him. “You like Saint? Most people find it odd.”
“I’m not most people. I admit at first I was curious, but it’s a strong, memorable name. I would never forget it.” Max was sure he wouldn’t be able to forget the man either. Max turned his head to see Saint’s blue eyes, which felt like they were peering into his soul.
“Okay, I can accept that,” Saint said, before taking a drink from his water bottle.
From that point on, they stayed on safer topics of conversation. Max shared stories about growing up with a single mom in the family-minded community. It wasn’t all bad, but a few families in the area looked down on Max and his family because his mom brought in extra money by doing housekeeping around the community. “If she’d had a husband, her life wouldn’t be so hard” or “No wonder Max is gay, he was raised with no male role models.” Max couldn’t count how many times he’d heard their disparaging remarks as if it were his mother’s fault his father had taken off.
Saint talked about the building way more than his career as a plastic surgeon. That, coupled with the fact that he refused to be called a doctor, made things clear. The injured man didn’t plan on returning to any health care field even after he healed. Max didn’t know if that was by choice or if Saint wasn’t physically able to, but Max knew a few doctors with disabilities. Performing surgery was probably out of the question, but there were other fields of medicine.
The building Saint referred to as “He
aven” was his passion now. Understandable. Only a labor of love could restore the old beauty to its former glory. But “Heaven” seemed a bit heavy, as if the building was providing salvation. Max knew better than to push. This man had more secrets and dark pain than anyone Max had ever known. And while that should have set off all kinds of warning bells, Max couldn’t help but wish he could be the one to soothe Saint’s soul.
They continued with the easy banter, and Max was relaxing into the conversation when a bright red sports car flew by travelling in the opposite direction. Max knew that car and hoped it kept going. They rounded the bend in the road and the rescue center appeared up on the right.
“Is that where we’re going?” Saint asked as the large facility came into sight.
“Yep, this animal welfare branch services a large area. Even with it being so large, they regularly run out of space for all kinds of abused and surrendered animals. It’s a sad commentary on human nature.”
Max turned into the driveway and drove to the back of the building where they loaded and unloaded animals. Saint’s eyes flew from one thing to another, his excitement surprising Max. Before he had the chance to put his truck into park, the red car was back. “Shit.”
Saint looked over at the vehicle and asked, “Problem?”
“More than likely,” Max answered, his blood pressure rising by the second. Of all the times for Blake to show up, it would have to be now when Saint was here.
Max turned off the engine and opened his door. The moment his boots hit the ground Blake was all over him. “I’ve missed you so much, lover,” Blake crooned as he wrapped his arms around Max.
With one hard shove, Max pushed the deceitful man away from him as Saint came around the front of the truck. “Keep your hands off me. There’s nothing between us anymore.”
“You know you miss this ass. How long is it going to take you to get over it? Christ, it’s been six months already,” Blake whined, reminding Max of what a brat the thirty-year-old could be.
It wasn’t that Blake wasn’t attractive, quite the opposite with his auburn hair, perfect smile, and six feet of toned, muscular body. However, appearances were deceiving.