by Ariel Tachna
“Neil!” Molly scolded, slapping the back of his head. “That’s a good way to get yourself fired.”
“I knew what he meant,” Macklin said despite the shiver of dread that went through him at hearing the slur, however innocently intended, on Neil’s lips.
“It’s still not appropriate,” Molly insisted. “We will be working on that.”
Neil looked appropriately henpecked so Macklin chuckled and left them to enjoy the evening. He looked around for Chris but didn’t see the younger jackaroo on the veranda of the bunkhouse. He considered searching longer, but he’d see Chris in the morning or at some point the next day. Chris and Seth would have to wait for Neil to finish moving out anyway. Instead, he went back to the house he’d lived in for fifteen years before Caine came along and upended his entire world. He didn’t think he had anything left there, but he’d check and make sure.
“WHAT’S IN the bag?” Caine asked when Macklin came into the house.
“Stuff,” Macklin said, setting the bag down on the table. “I couldn’t very well expect Neil and Molly to deal with all the junk I hadn’t bothered to move over here because I never use it anymore.”
“What are you talking about?” Caine asked, closing the laptop so he could give Macklin his undivided attention.
“Neil and Molly are getting married.”
“I heard,” Caine said. “What’s that have to do with your old junk?”
“Neil’s house is fine for a bachelor, but not really for a family,” Macklin explained. “I thought they could move into the foreman’s house since I’m not using it anymore. That way they’d have plenty of space now, and if they decide to start a family, they wouldn’t have to worry about adding on or anything like that.”
“So what was left to move?”
“Mostly clothes that don’t fit anymore, stuff like that,” Macklin said. “Nothing important, but nothing Neil and Molly needed to deal with either.”
“Shall we just toss them all then?” Caine asked, reaching for the bag. Macklin snatched it back so fast Caine blinked. Whatever was in the bag, it wasn’t just junk, but Caine didn’t press. He’d wait until tomorrow when Macklin was out in the paddock and then sneak a peek.
“I… well, I found an old picture I’d forgotten I had,” Macklin said slowly. “I’ll just put it away and then we can get rid of the clothes.”
“May I see it?” Caine asked.
Macklin reached in the bag slowly and pulled out a plain plastic frame. Caine took it and examined the photo within. A teenaged boy stood next to a tired-looking middle aged woman. Caine extrapolated he could see the boy growing into the man in front of him. “Your mother is beautiful.”
“She’s beat down.”
“She’s beautiful,” Caine insisted, “and she obviously loves you very much.”
Macklin nodded curtly, which Caine took as a sign to drop it. He set the picture aside for now and pulled Macklin into his arms.
“So how soon will Neil and Molly move in?”
“That’s up to them,” Macklin said, “but I thought Chris and Seth could have Neil’s house when he moves out. It’s a little small for two people, but it’ll be better than sharing with us.”
“Ready to have the house to ourselves again?” Caine teased.
“Well, it’s hard to fuck you in the living room if I’m worried about someone walking in on us all the time.”
Caine laughed. “There is that.” He was tempted to joke about changing places, but that had backfired in Boorowa. Macklin giving up his house, not just temporarily but in a way so that he couldn’t move back in, would have to do for proof of his commitment. Maybe he’d push again after his parents left, but for now, he’d take what he could get and make sure Macklin knew how much Caine appreciated it.
Maybe tomorrow he’d start searching for Macklin’s mother. Even if Macklin had no intention of seeing her again, it might help him to know what happened to her.
Seventeen
Six weeks later
“I DIDN’T expect you to have anything in the way of Christmas decorations,” Jesse said as he came into the little house Chris and Seth had moved into after Neil and Molly moved into the foreman’s house. “Did you go into Boorowa?”
“No, Caine gave it to me. He said he knew I didn’t have anything of my own and he had more than enough to share and to consider it a welcome to the station gift,” Chris said. “I think I’ve been here long enough not to qualify for welcome gifts anymore, but it was still a nice gesture on his part.”
“He’s one hell of a man,” Jesse agreed. “Even after three months, it still surprises me how much he treats all the men like family, even the ones who are probably just passing through.”
“Maybe some of the ones passing through will change their minds because of his kindness,” Chris said.
“It’s possible,” Jesse replied. “You never know what a little kindness will do.”
It wasn’t quite the answer Chris had hoped for, but he wasn’t ready to come out and ask Jesse point blank if he would consider staying. Jesse’s company had been a lifesaver for Chris when he first arrived and knew no one, but while he still enjoyed the time they spent together, both as friends and as fuck buddies, Chris had made other friends on the station. He had learned his way around the various chores that made up the daily routine. He might not ride as well as Ian or have Neil’s way with the dogs yet, but he was learning. He no longer needed Jesse the way he had at first. If Jesse left in March, Chris would miss him, but he wouldn’t be lost without him. He just wished he had a better idea of how Jesse felt beyond their obvious friendship and mutual lust.
“You’re awfully quiet,” Jesse said, breaking into Chris’s thoughts. “You missing your mum?”
“A little,” Chris said, clinging to that excuse. “She couldn’t afford to make a huge fuss over Christmas when we were little, and Tony was such a tightwad that it didn’t get a lot better even after they got married, but we had our traditions.”
“You and Seth can still follow those traditions if you want,” Jesse said.
“That’s just it,” Chris said. “I’m not sure I want to follow them anymore. That’s a different life than the one we’re living now. It wasn’t all bad—don’t think that—but it wasn’t all good either. Other than missing Mum, I’m much happier here than I ever was living under Tony’s roof, and money was so tight before him that I never knew whether there’d be enough dinner for all three of us. A stable job, a stable home, regular meals… friends. I’m better off than I’ve ever been, and Seth is, too, even if he bitches about not having cable or being able to go to the movies.”
“Tell him that’s what winter is for,” Jesse said. “What do you think I do in Melbourne for ten weeks?”
“Fuck everything that moves since you don’t know what the next station will be like?” Chris joked, but his heart pinched at the thought.
“Hey, now, I’m not that big of an alley cat,” Jesse protested. “I mean, I’m not going to turn down a good offer, but I don’t go out cruising every night when I’m in town.”
That didn’t reassure Chris. “Have any of the others talked about how or if the station celebrates Christmas?”
Jesse shook his head. “Most of the talk has been about Caine’s parents arriving. Apparently his mother is the one who actually owns the station, so everyone is worried about impressing her.”
“You’re not?”
“From everything I’ve heard about Caine, he didn’t know anything about sheep when he arrived, so I can’t imagine his mother knows more than he did. I think she’s coming to see her son, not to see the station. That’s not to say we should be rude or lazy or anything like that, but I don’t think this is the inspection everyone else seems to think it is.”
“And if you’re wrong?” Chris asked.
“Then she’ll see me doing my job just like I always do,” Jesse replied. “Macklin seems satisfied with my work. I can’t imagine her being any more demanding
than he is even if she is here to check on the station.”
“That’s true.”
“Stop worrying.” Jesse nudged Chris with his shoulder. “Where’s Seth?”
“He’s staying late at Jason’s to finish a project for school. Patrick said he’d probably just have Seth stay over there.”
“So we have the house to ourselves?”
Chris grinned. “Did you have something in mind?”
“Making out on the couch,” Jesse replied. “We don’t get to do that when Seth is around.”
Jesse was a regular enough visitor that Seth had stopped commenting on Jesse’s presence in their house, but by silent accord, Chris and Jesse kept their interactions on a friendly plane while Seth was around. If they’d been serious, in a solid committed relationship, Chris wouldn’t have minded Seth knowing about them and seeing whatever signs of affection passed between them, but Seth had been disappointed often enough. Chris didn’t want to add to it by creating an illusion with Jesse that would be shattered when fall came.
“What are we waiting for?” Chris said with a grin as he leaned into the curve of Jesse’s shoulder. Jesse pulled him close but didn’t kiss him right away. Chris didn’t even mind. Sitting there, smelling the fresh scent of Jesse’s skin from his shower, feeling the warmth of Jesse’s body at his back, Chris thought he could sit like that all night and it would be more than enough for him.
Then Jesse’s lips slid over the sensitive skin along Chris’s hairline behind his ear, and Chris decided more would be lovely indeed.
He tilted his head to the side, reveling in the luxury of being held. He’d always had to be the strong one. Chris’s earliest memories were of his mother telling him to be strong for his brother, to show him everything was okay even when it wasn’t by being in charge, in control of himself even if he couldn’t control anything else. He didn’t have to be strong with Jesse. He didn’t have to be in control. He could lean on Jesse’s friendship and know it would be there to support him. He sighed and tilted his head to the side, inviting more of the tender caress.
This was what had been missing from all his furtive, fumbling encounters as a teenager with his schoolmates and in the bars and clubs he’d gone to looking for release. This connection, this tenderness… even if Jesse had made no more promises than any of Chris’s past fucks, Chris knew this meant something. It might not be love, but it was companionship, friendship, support. It was something real and good, and it made Chris realize how much he’d been missing out on.
He hummed softly, then gasped when Jesse’s nuzzling turned to a soft nip along the tendon on the side of his neck.
“No marks,” Chris said automatically.
“Why not?” Jesse asked. “Who do you think would notice or care?”
“Seth would notice.”
“But would he care?” Jesse pressed.
Chris shook his head.
Jesse nipped at the now tanned skin again before returning to a softer caress. Chris breathed out a sigh, of relief or disappointment, he couldn’t have said. Then Jesse pushed aside the collar of Chris’s shirt and latched onto the upper curve of his shoulder, biting and sucking hard enough to make Chris cry out as lust hit him hard, pooling in his groin until he ached with it.
“Bloody hell,” he gasped when Jesse released his hold on Chris’s shoulder.
Jesse leaned around so he could see Chris’s face. “You liked it. Don’t pretend you didn’t.”
“Not pretending anything,” Chris said as he pressed down hard on his needy cock. “I just need a minute so I don’t shoot in my jeans.”
“Can’t have that.” Jesse pulled Chris’s hand away and pushed him down on the couch. He slid up Chris’s body until they lay face to face and hip to hip. “I’ll just lie here and kiss you until you’re in control again.”
Jesse rubbing against him and kissing him was not designed to help Chris regain control, but he didn’t complain, not when it felt this good. To Chris’s surprise, once Jesse found a comfortable position, he stopped his frottage, keeping Chris pinned to the couch but otherwise doing nothing to arouse him but kiss him.
Long, slow, deep kisses. Soul-stealing kisses.
The kind of kisses that made Chris hungry for more than just sex.
He took a deep breath and gave up thinking, falling heart first into those addictive kisses.
Jesse wasn’t a big man, not like Macklin or Kami, but he was taller and broader than Chris, fully filled out, while Chris still had some of the thinness of youth, and the difference in their sizes made Chris feel surrounded by Jesse’s body. Chris draped his arms around Jesse’s neck, not that Jesse was trying to pull away. It was more a matter of indulging his need to touch. He ran his hands down Jesse’s back, reveling in his strength. Chris might have developed some muscle since he started working with the other jackaroos, but not so much that he had stopped finding Jesse’s build hot as hell. He worked one hand beneath Jesse’s shirt, the other tangling in brown hair that had gotten long and shaggy while they’d been at Lang Downs. Chris hoped Jesse wouldn’t cut it for the rest of the summer.
“I love your hair longer,” Chris said, his lips moving against Jesse’s as he spoke.
“It gets messy,” Jesse protested.
“That’s why I like it,” Chris replied, silencing any additional protests by deepening the kiss. He twined their tongues together, not rushing, but determined to engage Jesse as fully in the moment as Chris himself was engaged. The way Jesse shifted against Chris suggested he was succeeding.
When Jesse lifted his head again, his breath rushing over Chris’s face, Chris smiled up at him and gave up deluding himself. This might not be anything more for Jesse than a way to unwind at the end of the day, a better option than a weekend trip to Melbourne, but for Chris, it had become more. He had fallen for Jesse.
He had no delusions Jesse felt the same way, but he could live with that. He wasn’t pretending Jesse would stay, even if he knew. He couldn’t control Jesse’s feelings or his actions, but as Jesse bent and kissed him again, Chris realized he didn’t care. His heart was his to give as he chose. Jesse might not keep it, but if the other option was breaking things off now, Chris realized he’d rather have a broken heart later, having loved now for all he was worth, than never have that experience at all.
MACKLIN DROVE in silence as Caine leaned over the back of his seat so he could talk to his father, sitting in the front next to Macklin. Macklin hadn’t been sure about that, but Caine explained his father got carsick in the backseat. Macklin didn’t want to spend the trip from Sydney worrying about Caine’s father, especially once they got off the paved roads and onto Taylor Peak.
Caine’s parents had been nothing but gracious since their arrival the day before, insisting Macklin call them by their first names, but Macklin hadn’t relaxed since he and Caine had left Lang Downs. He couldn’t get past the fact that the woman sitting beside Caine could sell Lang Downs out from beneath them if she chose. He’d struggled with this when Caine arrived almost a year ago. Caine had won him over, but Mrs. Neiheisel was an unknown quantity, and Macklin hated not feeling like he was in control.
She had been nothing but cordial, embracing Macklin and saying how glad she was to finally meet him. She had asked about him, his family, his history, but nothing directly about the station itself. Of course Macklin could hardly talk about himself without talking about the station, since he wasn’t about to tell her about his life before coming to Lang Downs. It had been all he could do to tell Caine.
“How much longer until we get home?” Caine’s mother asked, her American drawl so like Caine’s that Macklin couldn’t help smiling when he heard her speak.
“About half an hour until we reach Taylor Peak,” Macklin said. “Then we have to cross it and a chunk of Lang Downs. It’s about five hours from Boorowa because we can’t drive very fast on the dirt roads.”
“I had no idea it was so remote.”
“Mom, I told you all of this,” Caine
said.
“Yes, I know, dear, but five hours is a drive to Chicago across three states.”
“On the interstate at seventy miles an hour, not on farm roads at ten, twenty at the most,” Caine reminded her. Macklin’s stomach sank at the reminder of the disconnect between Caine’s mother’s experiences and life in the outback. She’d take one look at the rustic station and wash her hands of it completely.
“I know, I know. It’s just a lot to take in. I’ll get used to it, I’m sure. It can’t be as odd as Christmas in the middle of summer. I’m used to thirty degrees Fahrenheit, not thirty degrees Celsius at Christmas.”
“We can agree on that,” Caine said with a laugh. “I’ve never worn shorts on Christmas before.”
He reached forward and squeezed Macklin’s shoulder, the easy gesture of affection helping to settle Macklin’s nerves. Caine might laugh about Christmas in the summer, even if a cold Christmas was what seemed odd to Macklin. He might joke with his mother about distances, but he loved Macklin, and that made all the difference. Macklin took one hand off the wheel long enough to squeeze back.
“MY PARENTS like you,” Caine said that night as they were getting ready for bed. Caine’s parents had retired immediately after dinner, still suffering from jet lag, leaving Caine and Macklin to attend to everything that had built up while they were gone. Neil had taken his responsibilities seriously, and Macklin had been impressed at how little had been left undone.
“Are you sure?”
The vulnerability in Macklin’s voice tore at Caine. He had heard many tones from his lover in the nine months they had known each other. Doubt was rarely one of them.
“Yes, I’m sure,” Caine said. “My mother hugged you before they went up to bed. She wouldn’t have done that if she didn’t. And my father made a point of shaking your hand. He didn’t have to come over to you that way. He could simply have said good night. I know it’s subtle, but they’re my parents, remember. I know the way they do things. I know the way they were with John, and they were never as warm to him as they were to you tonight.”