by Ariel Tachna
“Alison—”
“Don’t interrupt,” Sam spat. “This is hard enough as it is. She made me think I wasn’t good for anything. She made me think nobody would ever want me and she was doing me a favor by keeping me around. She made me think….” He took a deep breath. “It doesn’t matter what she made me think. The point is, my marriage was a living hell, and by the time I got here, I just wanted to curl up in a dark corner and be left alone. Except nobody would let me do that, least of all Jeremy.”
Neil opened his mouth, but Sam glared at him until he shut it again.
“Jeremy has spent the past six weeks being my friend, kicking me in the arse when I start feeling sorry for myself, and basically doing everything he can to make me feel better about myself, and he’s done it without expecting anything from me in return except my friendship,” Sam said. “He isn’t pushing for anything else because he knows I’m not ready and the divorce isn’t final.”
“Wait—”
“Shut up,” Sam snapped. “I know you don’t like him, but I do, Neil. I like him a bloody lot, and for some unknown reason, he seems to feel the same about me, and it’s freaking me out a bit. I don’t know how to do this. The only serious relationship I’ve ever had was with Alison, and you see how that turned out.”
“Bloody hell, you’re going to make me accept a Taylor as part of my family, aren’t you?” Neil said.
Sam choked back a laugh. “Out of everything I just told you, that’s what you fixate on?”
Neil shrugged. “That’s the easiest part to deal with. The rest makes me want to punch someone.”
“As long as it’s not Jeremy or me, you can punch whoever you want.”
“Alison was the primary candidate,” Neil said. “So Taylor’s gay too? Is that why he’s here?”
“Yeah,” Sam said. “I’m not sure if his brother found out or if Jeremy just got sick of listening to him, but it’s why he left.”
“And you’re sure he’s who you want?”
“Neil—”
“No, I swear, I’m not saying that because of who it is,” Neil said quickly. “You said yourself you’ve never had a serious relationship except with Alison. Your divorce isn’t even finalized yet, although that can’t happen soon enough after everything you just told me. This isn’t about Taylor or how I feel about him. I just want to make sure you aren’t rushing into something you’ll regret later. Rebound relationships and all that.”
Sam considered Neil’s question for a moment before answering. “Life doesn’t come with guarantees, but I know what a bad relationship feels like. I know what I don’t want. A lot of guys, the guys I hooked up with in Melbourne, wouldn’t care that I was still legally married, even if we’re separated. A lot of guys wouldn’t have the patience to deal with my concerns about what Alison will do if she finds out I’m gay and involved with someone else before it’s over. A lot of guys—”
“You haven’t been hanging out with the right guys,” Neil interrupted. “Tell me about Taylor.”
“You could start by calling him by his name,” Sam said. “He’s kind. Maybe that doesn’t sound like a lot, but to me, it’s huge. He’s patient and funny and he makes me laugh. He makes me forget I’m not part of this place in the way the rest of you are.”
“What do you mean you aren’t part of Lang Downs the way the rest of us are?”
“I’m not a jackaroo,” Sam said. “I won’t ever be a jackaroo. I’m not naïve. Jeremy doesn’t seem to care about that, though. He talks to me like I know what he’s talking about and might actually have an opinion. He explains things to me when I ask. He’s teaching me to ride. He lets me work with his dog.”
“All of those things are great,” Neil said. Sam scowled at him. “No, I mean that. Really. But belonging on Lang Downs isn’t about being a jackaroo. Patrick isn’t. Sure, he can ride a horse if he has to, but he’s a mechanic, not a sheep herder.”
“Yeah, but the station needs a mechanic.”
“The station also needs someone to keep the books and make sure we all get paid,” Neil reminded him. “Caine didn’t invent a job for you.”
“Jeremy looks at me like I’m worth something,” Sam said softly. “He looks at me like he thinks he’s lucky to have me.”
“He is.”
“You’re my brother. You’re biased,” Sam said, but he smiled as he did. “Nobody else ever has. Alison didn’t even think that when I had a job and was contributing to the household. Once I lost my job, I wasn’t worth her time unless it was to yell at me. The men in Melbourne didn’t even see me. Not really. They saw a way to get their rocks off. In their defense, I didn’t really see them either. Jeremy, though, he sees me, and he still looks at me that way.”
“Damn, I guess I’d better get used to calling him Jeremy, hadn’t I?”
Fifteen
NEIL WENT back to the party after they finished talking, but Sam’s mood had shifted. He wouldn’t be good company now and didn’t want to inflict his contemplative mood on anyone else. He walked back to the bunkhouse and found his Driza-Bone. It was a beautiful night, with the stars bright overhead, so Sam went back out to the veranda and leaned on the railing as he stared up at the night sky. The moon hadn’t risen or had already set, Sam didn’t know which, so he could see the full wash of stars. The majesty of it took his breath away.
“Hey there,” Jeremy said, coming up the road from the canteen. “You didn’t come back to the party. I got worried about you.”
“I’m okay,” Sam said. A smile broke over his face as he realized it was true. “I had a chat with Neil. He invited us to have dinner with him and Molly on Sunday.”
“Your brother, the one who hates me, invited us to have dinner with him? What did you say to him?”
“I told him about Alison, about you, about everything, pretty much,” Sam admitted. “I told him you looked at me like I was worth something.”
“You are worth something,” Jeremy insisted.
“Yeah, he agrees with you,” Sam said, “but the fact you feel that way won him over, or started to, anyway.”
“I thought we were waiting until your divorce is final to start anything,” Jeremy said.
“We are,” Sam said, “but I didn’t need to wait another four months to start getting him used to the idea of having you around.”
“I thought we were waiting until your divorce was final to see where we stand,” Jeremy amended.
“We were,” Sam said, “but I realized tonight that I don’t need another four months to know what I want. I might have to wait to have it, and I know you might change your mind or not be ready to make up your mind, but I am, and I needed to share that with Neil.”
Jeremy stepped into Sam’s space, telegraphing every movement before he made it, but Sam had no desire to pull away. If anything, he moved closer, into the kiss. Jeremy’s lips were chapped and rough against Sam’s, but the kiss itself was almost unbearably tender, like Sam had handed Jeremy the fulfillment of every wish on a single platter, and Jeremy just couldn’t help himself. Jeremy lifted one hand to cradle Sam’s jaw, his fingers warm against Sam’s cool cheek. Sam could feel Jeremy’s calluses against his skin, the touch reminding him who he was with and how incredibly lucky he was to be here. He shuddered with the enormity of it.
Jeremy broke the kiss, resting his forehead against Sam’s. “You okay there, mate?”
Sam wanted to nod and assure Jeremy he was fine, but he couldn’t. He was quaking, but he couldn’t explain why. Jeremy tipped his head, rubbing their noses together. “No pressure, Sam. I swear, but after what you said…. I’m sorry if I moved too fast.”
Sam took a deep breath. He didn’t want to pull away. The way Jeremy was holding him, their foreheads touching, their noses brushing and breath mingling, was almost unbearably intimate, more than all the sex he’d had in the back rooms of bars or seedy hotel rooms, more even than the years he had spent living with Alison. Even before things got bad between them, it had never been
like this.
“I… don’t know how to do this,” Sam said with a shaky breath.
“Do what?” Jeremy asked.
“Anything, it feels like,” Sam said, laughing bitterly.
“That’s not what it looks like from where I’m standing,” Jeremy said, drawing Sam inside the bunkhouse, where it was warmer. Instead of letting Sam retreat to the chair by the huge stone fireplace where he usually sat, Jeremy pulled Sam with him to the couch. “You convinced your brother not to make a scene at Chris’s party. You told him about us. You stood up for yourself, since I’m sure he wasn’t happy about the news.”
“Actually, his biggest concern was that I was rushing into something before I was ready for it,” Sam said, “not who I was rushing into it with.”
“That’s… surprising,” Jeremy said slowly. “I would have expected more of a reaction from him.”
“Either you’ve been winning him over without realizing it, or he’s even more loyal to me than I realized,” Sam said.
“So what happens now?” Jeremy asked.
“What do you mean?”
“Your divorce still won’t be final until September, and it’s only the end of May, no matter how much I might wish otherwise,” Jeremy said. “I couldn’t let the moment pass without kissing you, but I made some promises to you, and I don’t intend to break them.”
“Good,” Sam said, still feeling like his head was spinning. “I don’t know what happens now. I guess we keep doing the same things we’ve already been doing, except maybe we spend a little more time with Neil and Molly. I really do think you could be friends if you give each other a chance.”
“For you, I’d give the devil himself a chance,” Jeremy said. “Neil’s a hothead. When I still lived at Taylor Peak, I always assumed he was a hotheaded jerk and wondered why Macklin kept him around, but I’ve seen him work since I’ve been here, and I’ve seen him with you. He’s a hothead, but he’s not a jerk.”
“No, he’s not,” Sam agreed. He leaned against Jeremy’s shoulder. “I don’t think we should kiss very often because it’s so easy for that to turn into wanting more, but sitting with you like this is nice.”
“It is nice,” Jeremy agreed, shifting so he could put his arm around Sam’s shoulders. Sam scooted closer until their sides touched. “There’s a lot more to a relationship than just sex. We can spend the next three or four months building the rest, and when your divorce is final and we can actually have sex, the waiting will make it even better.”
“Why do I feel like a virgin waiting for her wedding night?” Sam asked.
“Don’t know,” Jeremy said with a shrug and a smile, “but I’m not going to complain about being the one you pick.”
“You know I’m not really a virgin.”
“I didn’t think you were,” Jeremy said, “but I still like being the one you pick to be with.”
Sam smiled and snuggled a little closer. A part of him wished his divorce was already final so they didn’t have to worry about what happened next, but even with that shadow lingering over them, Sam couldn’t imagine being anywhere other than right where he was.
JEREMY LAY in bed late that night, his cold, lonely bed, thank you very much, and tried to will away the arousal that had been on a low, slow burn since he’d found Sam on the veranda. Unfortunately his imagination was stronger than his willpower. He tossed and turned restlessly on his narrow bunk, thankful that Lang Downs had a bunkhouse with separate rooms for each jackaroo. They weren’t fancy, but they had walls and a door and at least the illusion of privacy. Even better, Sam has chosen a room on the other side of the common area, so the chances of him hearing if Jeremy gave in and dealt with the problem were slim.
He closed his eyes and called up the image of Sam on the veranda, so open and innocent as Jeremy kissed him the first time. The whole virgin conversation aside, Sam was innocent in so many ways. He’d been beaten up by life a bit, but he hadn’t turned cold and bitter. And he’d kissed Jeremy like it was the most wondrous thing in the world. That was good for Jeremy’s ego, but it also proved his point. That chaste, tender kiss shouldn’t have been anything special, yet it clearly had been. Jeremy couldn’t help but wonder what else would be new and special.
He also knew, to the very depths of his being, that he would never push Sam for anything, not a second kiss, not making out, not sex. Whatever was building between them was too precious to ruin by pushing for more than Sam was comfortable with. He’d just have to be patient. He wasn’t a teenager anymore. He could wait.
JEREMY SHIFTED nervously from one foot to the other as they waited for Neil or Molly to answer the door. Sam would have walked in without knocking, but Jeremy didn’t feel comfortable doing that. Maybe someday he would, but not this time. Not when this was the first time he’d been invited. It was the same reason he’d insisted on leaving Arrow and Hawk in the bunkhouse despite Sam’s assurances that they could come with him. Another time, maybe, but not the first time, even if Arrow got along with Max, Neil’s dog, almost as well as he got along with Hawk.
“Sam, Jeremy, come in,” Molly said when she answered the door. “You didn’t need to knock.”
“That’s what I told him,” Sam said, leaning forward to kiss his soon-to-be sister-in-law on the cheek. “He insisted it wouldn’t be polite the first time he came over.”
“I’ll accept that this time,” Molly said with a smile as she opened the door wider to let them in. “Neil, Sam and Jeremy are here!”
Jeremy heard a muffled voice from the other room but no words he could distinguish. Remembering his mother’s lessons, he tugged off his boots and left them at the door with the collection of other shoes and boots that were there. Then he followed Sam and Molly deeper into the house. It was smaller than the big house, but from what Sam could tell, it had been built in very much the same plan as the house where Macklin and Caine now lived: living room and kitchen downstairs and a stairwell leading up to the bedrooms. Then again, from the little Jeremy could tell, most of the houses on the station with more than one bedroom followed that plan, so it should have come as no surprise that the foreman’s house was the same.
“I have Carlton Old and Toohey’s,” Neil said, coming into the living room. “Molly insisted we get wine for dinner, but I thought you’d prefer a beer beforehand.”
Jeremy hid a smile at Neil’s put-upon expression. “I’ll have a Carlton. Thanks.”
“You could say hello, Neil,” Molly chided.
“I did,” Neil protested. “I offered him a beer and everything!”
“You offered him a beer. You didn’t say hello,” Molly corrected.
Neil rolled his eyes and turned back to Sam and Jeremy. “Hello, Jeremy,” he said.
Jeremy couldn’t help the snicker that escaped. “Hi, Neil. Thanks for the invitation.”
“Any friend of my brother’s, and all that,” Neil said with a wave of his hand. “Let me get that beer. Sam, you want a Toohey’s, right?”
“Yes, please.”
“Come in and have a seat,” Molly said. “Are you settled in all right? Is the bunkhouse comfortable?”
“It’s fine,” Jeremy said. “Nothing fancy, of course, but it’s warm and dry, and really, what else can you ask for?”
“I could think of a few things,” Molly said with a laugh, “but then I’m a decorator. I want everything to have a personal touch.”
“Yeah, the bunkhouse isn’t terribly personal,” Jeremy said, “but it’s better than my other alternatives this time of year.”
“Did your brother really kick you off Taylor Peak?” she asked. “I’m sorry, that’s really not my business.”
“It’s fine,” Jeremy said. “And yes, to answer your question, he told me not to come back until I was ready to toe the line and get married. He might’ve said a few uncomplimentary things about Caine and Macklin while he was at it. I’ve never agreed with him about that, but I might have ignored it. I couldn’t ignore the rest.”
“No, of course not,” Molly said. “You did the right thing coming here. Neil, you should talk to Macklin about getting started on a house for them.”
Jeremy coughed in surprise. “The bunkhouse is fine,” he said. “Really.”
“It’s fine now,” Molly said. “But how are you going to feel in August, when the bunkhouse is full and everyone is looking at you oddly if you want to spend some time together?”
“We’ll just come over here,” Sam said.
“You’re always welcome here,” Neil said, “both of you, but our living room isn’t all that much more private than the bunkhouse. If you’re really going to do this whole couple thing once Sam’s divorce is final, you need somewhere of your own. Unless you’re thinking of going to another station.”
“Not unless Macklin fires me,” Jeremy replied. “I don’t have to worry about getting beaten up or looked down on or poked fun at here. I’d end up always looking over my shoulder anywhere else. That doesn’t mean we need to bother Caine and Macklin about a house, though. I don’t want to put a strain on the station’s resources.”
“Just remember that it’s easier to build in the winter than in the summer because there’s less going on,” Neil said. “If we don’t do it now, you could be looking at a full summer in the bunkhouse before we’d really have time to work on it.”
“I’ll think about it,” Jeremy said.
SAM SHIVERED as he climbed in bed. June had turned unexpectedly cold, and today was the worst by far. Even with his long underwear on, he hadn’t felt warm all day. He could only imagine how bad it had been for the jackaroos out in the paddocks. He pulled the blankets up and tried to think warm thoughts, but the wind whistled under the eaves of the bunkhouse, and Sam swore he could feel every gust through the walls and his blankets. Hawk had curled up next to him, but while her body was warm, she wasn’t big enough to do more than keep a few fingers from freezing. Rationally he knew that was ridiculous. The bunkhouse was weatherproof and heated, but Sam still couldn’t get warm. He thought wistfully about Neil’s suggestion that he and Jeremy build a house of their own on the station, a house where they could turn up the heat as high as they wanted or snuggle together under the blankets without worrying about what anyone else thought. It was a nice idea, but it wouldn’t help him tonight.