by Ariel Tachna
Sam did as Jeremy directed, and Jeremy settled back to watch Sam’s reactions to the movement of the horse, to the new experience, to everything about it. He didn’t bother giving more instructions at the moment. If Sam couldn’t figure it out for himself, Jeremy could help him out in a few minutes. For now, though, he let Sam mess around on his own.
Without constant conversation to remind Sam that Jeremy was there, his expression relaxed again, showing some of the wonder he felt. Jeremy figured that was worth his silence, especially when Sam turned to him and grinned excitedly.
“So what do I do now?”
Jeremy explained how to use the reins to tell Titan where to go, and then he sat back again and watched. He was pretty sure he could spend hours watching Sam smile and not get bored of it.
They spent the next two hours with Sam guiding Titan around the paddock and various obstacle courses Jeremy set up so he could work on his steering skills, and with each minute that passed, Jeremy could see Sam relaxing more.
“Are you ready to go back in?” Jeremy asked eventually, hiding his delight when Sam’s face fell. If Sam enjoyed riding that much, he’d be easier to persuade the next time Jeremy came to steal him away for a lesson.
“Already?”
“It’s been two hours. You’re going to be sore tomorrow. Riding is harder work than you realize.”
“It doesn’t feel like I’ve done any work,” Sam said.
Jeremy grinned. “Get off Titan and see how your legs feel then.”
Sam slid off Titan’s back and didn’t manage to bite back a yelp when his legs gave out beneath him. Jeremy caught his arm to steady him.
“Okay, maybe two hours was too much for my first lesson.”
Jeremy laughed. “Go lean on the fence. I’ll untack Titan and put everything away. Take some Nurofen tonight and soak in a hot bath. It’ll help relax your muscles. You’ll probably feel it for a couple of days, but it’s like anything else: use the muscles and they’ll get used to it.”
Sam hobbled to the fence while Jeremy untacked Titan and led him back to the other paddock. As he was returning to get the tack so he could put it away, Caine and Macklin rode back in. Caine took one look at Sam and shot Jeremy a grin. “Have you been abusing my new office manager?”
“Just giving him a little riding lesson, boss,” Jeremy replied with an answering grin. “I figured the more he knew about how the station worked, the better he’d be able to handle all the paperwork.”
“Did you find a lot of storm damage?” Sam asked from where he continued to lean against the fence.
Jeremy wasn’t as interested in Caine’s answer as he was in the smile that crossed Caine’s face so fast it was barely there before he replied. Yep, whatever else they’d found, they’d definitely taken advantage of the time alone.
“Hey, Caine,” Jeremy said after Caine had finished detailing the storm damage, “Sam was thinking about moving out of Neil’s house and into the bunkhouse to give the newlyweds some privacy now that he’s not just a guest and is going to be staying on, but we thought we should check with you first.”
“That shouldn’t be a problem this winter,” Caine said. “We’ll have to look at space when we start hiring in the spring, but that gives us four months to figure things out. Do you need any help moving your things, Sam?”
“I already offered to help,” Jeremy jumped in even as Sam said, “I don’t have that much to move.”
Caine looked amused by them, so Jeremy took that as a good sign. “Come on, Sam. Let’s get the rest of the tack put away, and then we can move your stuff.”
“If you need anything to spruce up the room, you’re welcome to raid the guest rooms in the big house. It’s not like they get a lot of use,” Caine added as he and Macklin turned their horses toward the far paddock.
Jeremy grabbed the saddle and pad and handed the bridle to Sam. “I’ll show you where to put everything, and next time, I’ll teach you how to get Titan dressed.”
Sam nodded and followed Jeremy back to the tack room, walking with the peculiar stiff bow-legged gait unique to new riders. They stowed the tack back in its spot.
“Let’s go pack your stuff up,’ Jeremy said.
“I really don’t have much,” Sam protested. “One suitcase plus the stuff I bought yesterday, and I didn’t even unpack most of that.”
“Then it’ll be a quick move,” Jeremy said, not ready to let Sam out of his sight just yet. He’d have to eventually, since he knew Sam wasn’t ready for an invitation to bed, or rather, that Sam wouldn’t take an invitation the right way. Jeremy could be patient. They had all winter alone together in the bunkhouse.
Sam hadn’t been kidding when he said he didn’t have much to move. Jeremy didn’t have all that much more, given the way he’d left Taylor Peak, but something about that single suitcase being the sum total of Sam’s life to date struck him as incredibly sad. “You get the bags from yesterday. I’ll get the suitcase,” Jeremy offered.
“I’m not some helpless girl in need of rescuing,” Sam snapped. “I can carry my own bloody suitcase.”
“I never said you were,” Jeremy replied. “I was just trying to help.”
Sam sighed. “I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that. It’s just….”
“Just what?”
“My life has sucked for so long, and suddenly it seems like everything’s going right. Neil didn’t freak out when I told him I was gay, Caine offered me a job, complete with a roof over my head, you’re flirting with me like you mean it…. It’s all too good to be true, you know?”
“No,” Jeremy said, “I don’t know.” That wasn’t completely true. He’d always thought of Lang Downs as a little bit of a miracle, even more after Caine and Macklin had taken him in much as they had Sam, but Sam’s problem wasn’t believing in Lang Downs, it was believing he deserved anything good. “Why shouldn’t you have good things? Why shouldn’t I flirt with you?”
“Because you don’t really mean it,” Sam said, “and I’m tired of being a pity fuck or someone men use just to get their rocks off.”
“I can’t decide if I’m flattered you’d think I’d put this much effort into a pity fuck or if I’m insulted you’d think I’d treat anyone that way,” Jeremy said after a moment. “Yes, I’ve been flirting with you all day. I think you’re an attractive, interesting man who I’d like to get to know better. If that goes well, then maybe, and I do mean maybe, we could talk about doing more than just hanging out together, because, all joking aside, I’m not stupid enough to shit in my own backyard. If we do this, it’ll be because we both want it and we’re both serious about trying to make something work. I’ve seen what happens when relationships go sour on a station, the two people stuck in the same place, unable to ever really get away from each other unless one of them decides to quit. I’m not going to take that risk on a whim.”
“You’ve known me for all of three days,” Sam said. “How can you even think in those terms?”
“Because the only part of what I just said that’s dependent on you is the fact that I’m having the conversation with you,” Jeremy said. “I’m not explaining this well.” He took a deep breath. “Look, let’s move your stuff and get you settled, and then I promise I’ll try to explain this in a way that makes sense.”
Sam didn’t look convinced, but he let Jeremy take the bag with his purchases from the day before. Jeremy considered it a victory that Sam let him help at all. They took everything to the bunkhouse, and Sam picked a room to use, the one farthest from Jeremy’s, he couldn’t help but notice sadly. He didn’t protest, though. Sam had to be comfortable or everything else was moot.
Sam set his things on the bed and walked back into the common room, shutting the door behind him in a way that made it clear Jeremy wasn’t welcome inside. “Okay, explain.”
Jeremy grabbed a beer from his stash. “Want one?”
Sam shook his head, so Jeremy took a swig and came to sit in one of the chairs scattered around the roo
m. “I’m thirty-four,” Jeremy said. “I did the casual thing in uni, and even occasionally later, when I’d take a week or two in the winter and go to Melbourne or Sydney to burn off steam, but it was always clear upfront what my partner and I expected out of those encounters. We both got what we wanted—no harm, no foul. But I’m not twenty anymore, and I don’t want the same things I did then, especially since Caine came and I started realizing I didn’t have to settle for whatever I could get.”
Sam didn’t look convinced yet, but he was listening, so Jeremy forged ahead.
“About the same time, we had a blowup on the station. One of the jillaroos got pregnant. The bloke she had been sleeping with dropped her as fast as he could. She’d thought they were serious. He’d thought they were fucking around. The rest of the summer was miserable for everyone, with people taking sides and the two of them refusing to work together. I thought Devlin was going to blow a gasket and fire them both. By the time the season was over, everyone was exhausted from all the drama, and I’d made a promise to myself. Two promises, actually. The first was to always make sure I was clear about my possible expectations with any partner, so we didn’t end up with that kind of miscommunication. The second was to only start a relationship if I saw in it the potential for something lasting.”
“I can see the logic of that,” Sam said slowly. “I can even see the appeal. What I can’t see is how three days is enough time to make that choice.”
“Because it’s three days or because I’m thinking that way about you?” Jeremy asked.
“Because it’s been three days,” Sam said.
“So if I waited a month and said the same thing, you’d believe me?” Jeremy pressed.
“I… I don’t know.”
At least it was an honest answer, Jeremy thought with a sigh. “Do you want me to back off and leave you alone?”
Ten
SAM ALMOST said yes because then he wouldn’t have to deal with the doubts and desires churning through him, but that would be the easy way out, and Jeremy wasn’t the only one who’d made promises to himself recently. Sam’s had been to really think about what he wanted and try to accept those things about himself. “I don’t know,” he repeated. “At this point, exactly two people in my life know I’m gay. Well, maybe three, if Neil told Molly. The guys I fucked around with last year don’t count because they don’t know me. I was a body to use, nothing more. Maybe Caine and Macklin suspect, but I haven’t told them either. I never thought I’d have anything other than a loveless marriage and the occasional back-alley fumble until I got here and saw what Caine and Macklin have built. I’ve had all of a few weeks to get used to the idea that anything more than that is even possible, much less something I could actually have. It’s a lot to take in all at once.”
“I can see how that would be rough,” Jeremy said. “I didn’t realize it had all been so fast. I didn’t mean to make you feel pressured.”
“You make me feel a lot of things,” Sam admitted against his better judgment, “and not all of them are bad. It’s just too much too fast.”
“So what do you want me to do?” Jeremy asked again. “How can I make this easier for you?”
“Honestly?” Sam asked.
Jeremy nodded.
“I really just need a friend right now. Everything is so up in the air, with the divorce and the new job and what that might mean for the divorce. I don’t think Alison is out to get me or to take anything from me, but I don’t want to give her grounds for anything more than what I’ve already agreed to. If we started something and she tried to use it against me, I could lose what little I have left.”
“Two bags of clothes?” Jeremy asked.
“She could demand alimony or claim emotional distress or pain and suffering or something,” Sam said.
“I’m pretty sure we could make a case against her for that,” Jeremy retorted. “How often did she yell at you for not having a job?”
Sam flushed. “I couldn’t even begin to count.”
“And I bet that’s not the only thing she said,” Jeremy added.
Sam didn’t answer, but memories of Alison’s sharply barbed comments about everything from his appearance to his prowess—or lack thereof—in bed flooded his memory. “She was under a lot of stress.
“That’s not an excuse for emotional abuse,” Jeremy said. “So, we’re not going to do anything to give her grounds for demanding more than she’s already taken from you. How long until the divorce is final?”
“About six months. We can’t actually file until we’ve been separated for a year, which is three months from now, and then it usually takes about three months for everything to be finalized.”
“Then for the next six months, we’re going to hang out as friends, get to know each other, work on your self-esteem a bit. I might flirt a little because I can’t seem to help it, but I won’t try anything more than that, not even a kiss,” Jeremy said. “When the divorce is final and you don’t have to worry about her anymore, we’ll see how we both feel. Maybe you’ll be right, and as I get to know you, I’ll decide we’re better off as friends. Maybe I’ll be right, and as I get to know you, I’ll just find you even more interesting and more attractive than I already do. Whichever happens, it’ll be fine because we both agreed to the friendship and the later conversation. And by that time, you won’t be able to say I don’t know you well enough if I’m right.”
Sam swallowed hard, considering the options Jeremy had laid out. He needed a friend. There was no doubt about that. He thought, with time, he and Caine could be friends, but Caine was also his boss, and Sam wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to confide in Caine completely with that barrier between them. He and Neil were closer than they’d ever been now that Sam’s secret was out in the open, but Neil was so wrapped up in Molly, as he should be, that Sam wasn’t sure how much time he’d have for him. Not to mention Neil had been very clear on the kinds of things he didn’t want to hear. Jeremy could be that friend. He could guide Sam through life on the station. He had already proved he could listen without judging and that he’d defend Sam, even against his own screwed-up ideas.
The problem wasn’t being friends with Jeremy. The problem was Jeremy’s insistence that they revisit the idea of something more, because as long as that was on the table as an eventual option between them, Sam wouldn’t be able to stop himself from dreaming. He’d have to be stupid not to want everything he could get from a man like Jeremy, whether that was one night of pleasure or a lifetime of companionship. He just couldn’t believe a man like Jeremy would want any of that from him.
Jeremy would probably say that was Alison talking. He was probably even right, but that didn’t make it any easier to dismiss the doubts when he’d never been the dashing type, even before he started losing his hair. He’d never been the one with the buff body all the girls drooled over. He was barely one step up from the nerds they’d made fun of. Only the lack of glasses had saved him from that. He was good at what he did, but it wasn’t glamorous or dashing or anything special. He was an office drone, even if he had moved up to managing the office. He hadn’t turned his abilities with numbers into a fat stock portfolio or leveraged it to start his own business. He’d been content to run the hardware store for the Smiths, never thinking they might close it when they retired instead of selling it to someone who would be glad to have an office manager who already knew his way around the books.
He’d been genuinely stunned when Alison had agreed to marry him, and that had been ten years and twenty pounds ago. If he got as much exercise on the station as he had today, he might lose the twenty pounds, but nothing could give him back the ten years.
Jeremy was only about a year younger than him, but he could have been anywhere between twenty-five and forty. The lines on his face from the sun and wind proclaimed he wasn’t a kid anymore, but they made him look strong, not old. He would probably look exactly the same in another ten years. Sam couldn’t say the same about himself.
That was the part of all of this Sam couldn’t wrap his mind around. With his looks, his sense of fun, and that devilish grin, Jeremy could have anyone he wanted, male or female. The guys in the bars Sam had gone to when he needed to forget about everything for a while would be all over someone like Jeremy, and they wouldn’t just want him for the night. They’d want to snatch him up and keep him. So why would someone like that, someone who could have his choice of lovers, want someone like Sam?
They could be friends. Sam would love to have a friend like Jeremy, but if Jeremy kept putting the possibility of more on the table, Sam would end up wanting it. Oh, who was he kidding? He already wanted it. He just didn’t understand it and so couldn’t believe in it. To have it within reach and lose it would be the worst kind of torture.
“Sam?”
“Sorry, just thinking.”
“Let me guess,” Jeremy said. “You were wondering what I could possibly see in you and trying to figure out how to make it hurt less when I change my mind.”
Sam flushed. “How do you do that?”
“It’s not that hard,” Jeremy said. “I already know you don’t think of yourself as being attractive. You’ve already asked me how I could possibly find you interesting. Which means one of two things: either you’re trying to figure out how to let me down gently, or you’re trying to talk yourself out of going along with my plan.”
He leaned in so close Sam could practically feel his breath. He ached to lean forward and see what it would feel like to kiss him, but he didn’t close the distance between them.
“If you’re trying to let me down gently, don’t,” Jeremy said. “If you really aren’t interested in anything more than friendship, just say so. I’m a big boy. I can handle it. If you’re trying to talk yourself out of it, stop. Nothing’s going to happen until your divorce is final, so there’s nothing to talk yourself out of.”
“I wasn’t trying to let you down gently,” Sam admitted.
Jeremy flashed that grin again, the one that made Sam’s stomach flip. “Good. Everything else can wait.”