Healing Hearts (Stealing Hearts Book 2)

by K. Evan Coles

  “The things Owen told the cops... He had to talk to the Civil Rights Unit, for fuck’s sake. The names those people on the train called him and the others, and the way the transit cop almost let the whole thing go, like what happened to those girls didn’t matter—” Mark pressed his lips together in a tight line. “I’ve had people hassle me for being gay. I’ve been called names and pushed around, but listening to Owen talk about what happened to him because of the color of his skin...it was awful.”

  To his horror, Mark’s eyes pricked with tears. Quickly, he closed them, working hard to get hold of himself, while Lauren drew him in for a hug and Keith reached over her to set his hands on Mark’s shoulders.

  “I don't even know why I’m falling apart like this,” Mark murmured once he trusted himself not to freak out. He pulled himself free and ran his hands over his hair. “Owen is fine. It could have been so much worse than a black eye. He could have been the one in the path of that car. He could be in surgery right now for fuck’s sake. Or...” Mark shook his head, unable to give voice to the awful things that could have happened had luck not been on Owen’s side.

  Lauren surprised him with a small smile. “Seeing the people we care about hurting is hard.” She laid a delicate hand on his cheek.

  Mark pressed his lips into a thin line and stared at her, unsure how to tell his sister just how much he cared about Owen.

  “I invited Owen to Shitty Movie Night,” he blurted instead, and winced as Keith jabbed a finger into his midsection. “Ow.”

  “I knew it!” Keith crowed, his eyes gleaming. “You fucking love him, don’t you?”

  Mark flinched like he’d been splashed with cold water. “No, I—” he started, and stopped when Lauren laughed gently. She ran her hand up and down Mark’s arm.

  “You do, honey. You love him. And judging from the way Owen looks when he’s around you, he is way gone for you, too.”

  Mark could only stare, gaze moving between Lauren and Keith, so sure they had to be joking, and something inside him slid into place with an almost audible click. He’d been attracted to Owen from the start. He’d liked Owen right away, too, and that had grown into something far bigger than Mark had felt for any man he’d ever been with. And the heart-fluttery, over-the-moon feelings that were running through Mark right now? They’d been happening to Mark around Owen for a while now—he just hadn’t put the pieces together.

  Oh, hell.

  “Why didn't you tell me?” Mark whispered. “Why didn’t Owen tell me?”

  Mark already knew the answer, didn’t he? Why would Owen tell Mark he cared with Mark so goddamned determined to prove he didn’t believe in love at all?

  Lauren simply shrugged. She didn’t give Mark shit, despite having heard him scoff at love and romance for decades. She’d amassed a literal lifetime of ammunition, but instead of using it against Mark, she kissed his cheek and smiled.

  “You weren't ready to hear it,” she said, “from Owen or from anyone. You’re ready now, though. You just need to let it happen.”

  Mark held his breath in hopes his heart would stop banging around inside him like it was trying to crash its way out. No such luck.

  “I’ve never felt like this before,” he said, his voice much quieter than he’d have expected. “I’m not sure I know how to love someone.”

  “It’s funny you’d say that.” Lauren sniffed at Mark. “Because I’m pretty sure you’re already doing it without even trying. And if you want more with Owen, all you have to do is reach out and grab it.”

  ~ooOoo~

  Mark had almost made up his mind to go check on Owen when the man himself padded out of the bedroom in the borrowed navy blue sweats, hair still damp and hands clasped behind his back. The bruising on his face had become more pronounced, especially around his eye where purple shaded from the bridge of his nose to his cheekbone. Owen’s color overall had improved with the heat of the shower, though, and his eyes were livelier.

  Mark wanted to kiss him senseless. After encasing him in bubble wrap.

  “Were you talking to someone?” Owen held out a hand for the beer Mark offered and raised his eyebrows at the takeout containers spread across the counter. “Whoa. You didn’t make eggs.”

  “I did not. Lo and Keith were here,” Mark said. “I forgot to text them back while you were dealing with the cops and they were worried. They came by to yell at me and drop off a truckload of food, and they’re both relieved you're okay. I think they ordered one of every entree Poca Luce serves, by the way, so you’ve got about a dozen things to choose from.”

  “Excellent. Oh, hey, I have something for you.” Owen pulled the other hand from behind his back and held up a small brown stuffed bear. It sat atop a rectangular gold and red foil box and, between its paws held a little red tulle bag filled with candy. Owen smiled. “I know it’s not your birthday yet, but I figured a little Valentine’s Day candy a few days ahead of the day would be okay if it came with a cheesy stuffed animal.”

  Mark stared at the bear for a long moment before he reached out with both hands and took it. “Thank you,” he murmured, eyes on the little creature and his throat so thick he was surprised he could speak at all. “I can’t believe you remembered.”

  “There are chocolates in the box, too,” Owen said, and Mark heard amusement in his voice. “And, as bears go, that guy’s not so bad.”

  Mark held his breath, his insides shaking with more emotion than he knew what to do with. He realized he’d been quiet too long when Owen stepped close and took hold of Mark’s elbow.

  “Mark? You all right?”

  “Yeah.” Mark swallowed and lifted his gaze to meet Owen’s, finding concern there and, of course, affection that ran deeper than mere fondness. Lauren had been right. Owen was looking at Mark with love. That didn’t scare Mark the way it would have only a few weeks ago, either.

  “Is it okay if we talk while we eat?” he asked. “Because I don’t want to wait until tomorrow. I really, really don’t know what I’m doing, but I know I don’t want to wait anymore to talk to you about it.”

  Owen raised his hands to Mark’s shoulders. While Mark had been dying to provide comfort all afternoon, Owen was the one who pulled him close and just held him tight. And Mark felt more than okay with that happening for as long as Owen was willing.

  CHAPTER TEN

  “Don’t get mad.”

  Mark turned from the pan of bacon he’d been frying. “Okay? Why would I get mad?”

  “The white dog is back,” Owen said. He tilted his head to the cabin’s open front door, where the animal in question sat on the steps, big dark eyes staring in through the storm door at them.

  “Ah.” Mark glanced from the dog to Owen and sighed. “I told you this would happen if you fed him.”

  Owen grimaced. “I know, but what the heck are we supposed to do? There’s no one else around and he’s clearly hungry. Where do you think he stays at night?”

  “With his real owners,” Mark said. “Who are no doubt in another cabin nearby.” He grunted and turned back to the stove. “Well, go ahead and let him in, because we both know you won’t be satisfied until you do.”

  After turning the burner off, Mark went to the refrigerator while Owen and the dog made goo-goo eyes at each other. He pulled a carton of eggs and a package of steak from its depths, then went about preparing what he hoped made for a good doggy-breakfast.

  The beast had turned up four days into Mark and Owen’s week in a tiny cabin on wheels. The cabin sat in a campground in the woods of southern New Hampshire, and Mark and Owen had come up to stay for the last week of February, just after a snowstorm had blanketed the region in over a foot of fluffy white stuff. Owen had been the one to find the place as an alternative to the all-male bed and breakfast that had been Mark’s preference. While a small part of Mark mourned that he might not see the B&B again, it felt right finding a new getaway location with Owen. Even if said place was a tiny wood structure that was smaller than Mark’s living
room.

  Despite its heavy hipster vibe, Mark liked the place. It was one long room, with bathroom and shower at one end and sleeping space at the other with kitchen-slash-living area in between. Fashioned in warm, natural woods, the cabin was surprisingly cozy, and the queen-sized bed made for comfortable lounging. A large picture window filled most of the wall over that bed, and it let in a ton of light and afforded spectacular views of the snowy woods beyond.

  Mark and Owen slept late every day and usually wandered out onto the hiking trails before lunch, and though they saw other cabins dotted throughout the grounds during their explorations, they rarely met anyone or heard a noise that broke the hush of the woods.

  That had changed after the white dog showed up, of course, and greeted them with cheerful-sounding woofs and a wagging tail. The animal had been a little thin but appeared to have been well cared for otherwise, its fur surprisingly clean and its eyes lively. The dog’s leather collar bore no tags or identification, however, and it had correctly identified Owen as the weak link while it followed him and Mark on their walk through the woods. Owen had allowed it to drink almost all the water from his bottle before they'd even made it back to the cabin, and when he’d gone to the refrigerator for some leftover chicken, Mark had known they were in trouble.

  Mark sighed over the pieces of steak he was chopping now. He wouldn’t win this battle. Truth be told, he didn’t really want to fight it, because most likely the dog was lost or had been abandoned, and fuck if Mark would be the one to kick him out—he’d never be able to live with himself, let alone the look he knew he’d see in Owen’s eyes. So the chunks of meat went into a bowl. He mixed them with sliced carrots and a handful of blackberries, then cracked an egg over the whole thing. He set it by the door and shook a warning finger at Owen’s smirk.

  “I’ll murder you if that thing has fleas,” he said over the dog’s eager smacking noises. “We’ll need to go grocery shopping tomorrow, too, and that wrecks my plans to stay away from town until we leave.”

  Owen took two steps and wrapped his arms around Mark’s waist. “Sorry.”

  “No you’re not.” Mark turned his head for a kiss. “But that’s okay. We’re almost out of candy anyway.”

  “That’s because you ate it all, you monster.”

  “Shut it, you.” Mark kissed Owen again. “Will you make me some more coffee while I do the eggs?”

  He smiled as Owen patted his ass and went about the business of brewing up another cup. Easy. That was how things were between them again, even though Mark was still working out how to be someone’s boyfriend. Because that’s who he was for the first time in...well, ever.

  Not surprisingly, Owen had taken everything in stride. He’d listened to Mark that night after the incident on the train and helped him talk through the mess in his head. And while Mark had insisted he could do a serious relationship, Owen had stood firm in his opinion they ease into it.

  “This is a new thing for you,” he’d said. “I don’t want you to rush into anything and regret it later. So let’s just be together and see how it goes.”

  Mark had frowned. “So...what does that mean? You want me to stop seeing other people, right?”

  Owen had licked his lips. “Honestly, Mark, I’m not sure, but I’m not going to demand monogamy. If you decided you don’t want to see anyone else then okay, we can talk about it. I think we need to figure out how we work as a couple first.” He’d taken Mark’s hand. “Give me a heads-up if you feel like you need to cruise, and I’ll do the same.”

  Mark’s stomach had flipped over at the idea of Owen with another man. That was...yeah, something he hadn’t liked to think about, at all. And that realization had floored him, particularly as it gave him insight into the way Owen might have been feeling anytime Mark mentioned Alistair or hooking up in general.

  “Does that go for Alistair, too?” he’d asked. “Because I get the feeling there’s something about him and me that you don’t like.”

  “He’s your friend, Mark,” Owen had replied, even as his expression had tightened. “I’m not going to make you end that out of some kind of misguided jealousy.”

  Mark had shaken his head. “There’s nothing to be jealous of. Alistair is definitely my friend, but what we have together...” He’d paused and tried to compose his thoughts. “The sex is all surface. Yes, we have a good time and it’s hot, but it doesn’t need to be the reason Al and I hang out. I think he and I could be friends without the sex and be perfectly okay.”

  Even as he’d said the words, Mark had known they were true. He and Alistair could be something less—and yet more—than fuck buddies. Mark thought maybe that time had come.

  Whatever doubts Owen might have harbored about the declaration, he’d aimed a real smile Mark’s way. “Okay. Then until you know, yeah, the same goes for Alistair. You tell me when you need time to yourself and we can get together again when we’re both ready.”

  So that was where they were. Mark saw Owen frequently during the week and over the weekends. Sometimes they met for lunch, but more often than not they had dinner instead, and if Mark wasn’t working a night shift, they’d spend the night together. And whether they had sex when they were together or not, Mark wanted that closeness.

  He hadn’t had any urge to cruise either, or do more than flirt harmlessly with the occasional handsome man. Did that mean he was ready for monogamy? Mark still didn’t know. But he also didn’t much care, because he had Owen and they were happy in their relationship.

  Alistair hadn’t seemed at all surprised when Mark had told him he and Owen were making a go of being boyfriends, either, despite his eye rolling and comments about another good man biting the dust.

  “I’m not surprised, love. You’ve been gone on that boy all along,” he’d said, his smirk so wide it’d nearly been a smile. “I could tell, even when you tried to deny it. And while I may not believe in true romance, I’m not one to stand in its way.”

  “And that’s it?” Mark had asked. “You’re not going to give me shit about going soft or selling out?”

  “Not at all. If you’re happy then I am too, Mark.” He’d winked. “That said, I have tickets for another drag ball on February twenty-third, and it’s in Manhattan this time. You and your Owen are very welcome if you’d like to tag along.”

  “We have plans,” Mark had said and smiled through the flush of heat that crossed his face. He’d liked that Alistair was interested in getting to know Owen. And Mark’d really liked the way ‘your Owen’ sounded. “We’re going to a tiny cabin in New Hampshire for the week. If my luck holds out, I won’t be expected to do something overtly macho like ice fishing or chopping wood.”

  Alistair’s cackling had been long and loud. “Oh, Lord help us all. Well, please don’t freeze or starve to death. I’ll expect photos of your ridiculous lumbersexual efforts as well, so I can harass you when we both get back to town.”

  Mark couldn’t help thinking Alistair would be laughing very hard indeed to see him now, wrapped in plaid and thermal underwear and feeding food scraps to a dog who’d insinuated himself into the cabin by simply following Owen around.

  ~ooOoo~

  Late that afternoon, after their brunch and a long walk through the snowy woods with the white dog who seemed far too comfortable, Owen pushed Mark down in front of the big picture window by the bed and systematically took him apart.

  “Look at you.” He had Mark pinned down on the mattress and was working him open with one hand while Mark cursed a blue streak and writhed. “You are a mess.”

  “And you’re an evil, evil man.” Mark shivered as Owen twisted his fingers in exactly the right way and made Mark’s bones melt. “O-h-h, God. Owen. I can’t.”

  “Yes, you can.” Owen shifted his weight backward and aimed a filthy grin Mark’s way. “You want it like this? On your back? Or on our sides, like spoons?”

  “Like spoons,” Mark said through his panting. The only thing he loved more than watching Owen’s fac
e while Mark fucked him was Owen pressed up behind Mark, holding him tight while he made Mark scream.

  Mark rolled left and settled so Owen could snug up behind him, and he moaned softly when a pair of warm hands ran over his ass.

  Owen hummed in reply. “Okay, baby.” He moved one hand to Mark’s waist, keeping him steady so he could line their bodies up. Mark closed his eyes as Owen breached him and the sensation that razored through him made him fist the sheets.

  He managed to peel his eyes open as Owen bottomed out, and the sight of them both in the window’s reflection made him moan again. Owen had moved so he could rest his cheek on Mark’s and his dark eyes were on Mark’s in the glass, watching him with an intensity that made Mark’s heart pound even faster.

  “I’ve got you,” Owen murmured, his arms coming around Mark just the way he liked.

  Mark grabbed on to Owen as the pain in his body slowly bloomed into pleasure. He pushed back when Owen rocked forward, and together they reached down to take Mark in hand, fingers entwined as Mark’s pleasure skyrocketed higher.

  “Oh, God. Mmm, Owen.” He craned his head back for a kiss, and Owen obliged with a smile.

  “That’s it,” Owen murmured against his lips. “You feel so good. Hot and tight and perfect.”

  Mark couldn't answer. As usual, Owen could tell what Mark didn’t have the words to ask. With his free hand, he pulled Mark’s hair, yanking his head back so his insides liquefied. Owen fucked Mark’s mouth with his tongue as he thrust, his grip strong and tight around Mark’s cock, pumping him until he flew.

  A tremor shook Mark’s whole body. Owen tore his mouth free then and pressed his lips to Mark’s ear, his breath hot and his voice vibrating with the need that crawled through them both.

  “Love you, Mac. Love you so fucking much.”

  Mark’s chest heaved. “Love you too,” he said, his voice a mere breath, and came so hard he almost hurt.

  His body jerking stiff, Mark shuddered, the orgasm roaring through him and leaving him limp. He sank against Owen, his brain adrift on hormones and his cum hot on their joined hands. Owen moaned. He fucked into Mark hard, his movements losing rhythm as he chased his pleasure, and Mark forced his eyes open so he could watch his lover’s face twist in the window’s reflection.