Blowing Smoke: A Small-town Firefighter Gay Romance (The Wilds Book 2)

by Ashton Cade

  “Hunter, I don’t want to—”

  “Well, too bad. I’m not taking no for an answer. Not a single person has called me about it anyway. It’s yours.”

  I see him still on the verge of protesting and hold up a hand.

  “No arguments. No need to make it weird or anything more than it is. This is just a couple of friends sharing a house.”

  “I appreciate the offer, really,” Jared starts, and I hear the ‘but’ from the beginning of his sentence. “But I’ll figure something out, I’ll—”

  “You’ll run yourself ragged until you’re no good to anyone,” I interrupt. “You want to help Jack and prove yourself as Chief and all that, you need to take care of yourself, Jared. You need to have a safe, comfortable place to lay your head or you’re not going to make it. For once, just let me be right,” I tease, sinking down on the futon with him. Instantly there’s a hard metal bar pressing against my tailbone. How the hell has he been sleeping on this thing?

  It takes him a minute, staring off into space, drinking his cold coffee, but finally, Jared nods.

  “All right. But I’m paying full price, no special treatment.”

  I snort. “Sure, whatever you say.”

  He wraps me up in a hug, squeezing tight even with the awkward angle of us both sitting. “Thanks,” he says.

  “What’re friends for?” I ask, nudging him with my knee.

  I feel better knowing that he’s going to be out of that coffin, but I’d be lying if I said I’m not a little worked up about him coming to stay with me. I told him it’s nothing, just friends, because I know that’s what he needs right now. I know he’s not in a place to be working on a relationship or even in the headspace to be fooling around. I can respect that.

  Doesn’t mean it stops me from wanting it though. The couple of times we’ve been together have been so incredible that it’s hard to think I might not get the chance to do it again. I think about him every day. When I wake up and my bed is empty, when I make coffee and there’s no one to share it with, when I come home and there’s only Winnie to cuddle with…

  I want more of Jared in my life; I want more from him than I’ve ever wanted from anyone, but I can’t have everything I want. The closest I’m going to get is getting him out of his apartment.

  “Come on, let’s go get your stuff and get you moved in,” I say, patting his knee.

  “Not wasting any time, huh?” he laughs.

  “And give you a chance to change your mind? No way,” I laugh back. “How long did you really think you could just keep sleeping in your office?”

  He shrugs. “Who’s going to tell me I can’t?” he asks with a sly grin.

  “Me,” I answer, standing, holding out a hand. “And from the sounds of it, Cody tried too.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he mutters, rolling his eyes. He takes my hand, though, and his smile is grateful, a little glint in his eyes.

  When we get to his place, I make him stand outside the door and tell me what needs to be packed up most.

  “No, that was here when I moved in,” he says about a side table. “This is silly, Hunter, I can be in there for a little while.”

  “Yeah, and I can do it without you,” I fire back through the open door. “What about this lamp?”

  His apartment is small, and he doesn’t have a lot of stuff. Typical bachelor. It only takes a couple hours to get everything packed up in my truck and moved across town.

  The apartment over the garage isn’t any bigger than the one he left behind, but it’s cleaner. There’s no mold here. Not a lot of light either. There are a couple of windows, but I opted to leave it at that so it’s not too hard to keep this area warm. Being over the garage, it doesn’t get the benefit of heat rising from the main house. It’s pretty well insulated, but if he finds any drafts, I’ll be sure to patch them up right quick.

  “So this is your key to the door outside. The stairs here let out into the kitchen, so you won’t need one for the main house… You know your way around already, so I guess that’s that. Hundred bucks a week.”

  “You’re joking, right?” he scoffs.

  I frown. “Why would I be?”

  “I told you I’m paying full price,” he says, sounding offended.

  “Jared, it’s a room over my garage, half an hour outside of town. That is full price. You interested in lunch?”

  For a moment, he looks like he’s ready to argue still, but finally he sighs and nods.

  “Yeah, lunch would be great.”

  Chapter 5

  Jared

  For the first time in a long time, I actually sleep well. I’m warm and cozy, in a place of my own with clean air. I’m off today, and I’m half-tempted to laze around in bed for hours just because I can.

  Winnie barks outside, and I pull myself over to the window that overlooks the front yard and the gravel driveway. Everything’s covered in frost, the grass sparkling like it’s dusted with sugar. Hunter’s in boots, a coat, and pajama pants, wrestling a stick from Winnie before she barks and races after it, breath puffing up in the cold.

  She retrieves the stick and starts to turn without stopping, paws sliding, losing traction until she’s running in place like an old cartoon character. Finally she gets a grip and the game is back on.

  I smile, watching them from above the garage, the cold starting to seep in through the window pane. Hiding out up here all day isn’t really an option. I’m really grateful to Hunter for making this happen and convincing me to move in here; being a recluse is going to send the wrong message.

  What message do I want to send, though? I’ve been such a wreck when it comes to him. I’m the one who initiated things, and then I was the one to push him away.

  Talk about mixed signals. He deserves better.

  But I don’t know how to do this. Any of it. Hunter’s pretty much everything I’ve ever wanted in a guy, but I haven’t exactly had relationships in the past. My lifestyle never left room for anything more than a one-night stand here and there. It’s pretty obvious at this point that that’s never going to be enough with Hunter. Sex alone isn’t going to satisfy my craving when it comes to him.

  Maybe I should have never made a move that night at Holly’s. Before then, it was easy to tell myself that we probably weren’t compatible. That we were better off as friends.

  Just friends just doesn’t seem like enough anymore.

  I grab a blanket off the bed and wrap it around my shoulders, stepping away from the window. I need to figure this out. Hunter’s too important to me, and living here is going to make it a lot harder to ignore how attracted I am to him.

  Do I need to hide it?

  I’m the one pushing him away because it seems like the easier answer, but considering that I’m in bed on a Sunday morning agonizing over the choice, maybe it’s not as easy as it seems. Maybe dealing with everything all alone isn’t my only option.

  Hunter’s always been a good friend. I haven’t always let him in, but when I do, he’s there for me.

  Why is this so hard?

  I hear the front door close, and even from my position above the garage, I can hear the various animals greet him as he comes back inside. That big heart of his is another thing that’s always attracted me to him. He can’t bear the thought of some poor animal not getting all the love he thinks it deserves.

  Guess there’s no point in putting it off any longer. I should at least head down and say hi, even if I don’t know where to go from there.

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah, I hear you. You too,” Hunter’s saying amid a cacophony of meowing. “You’re all going to get fed, so just calm down,” he grumbles, the cats’ crying covering up the creaking stairs as I come down.

  “Morning,” I say from the doorway, running my hand through my hair, a nervous habit.

  He looks up, surprised. Surely he didn’t forget I’m here, right?

  “Hey,” he answers, attention more on the crowd of cats at his feet. “How’s the room?”

&nb
sp; I nod, lingering where I’m out of his way. “Perfect. Slept like a baby.” Other than the times I’ve stayed here, I haven’t had a good sleep in months.

  “Glad to hear it. There’s coffee,” he says, jerking his head toward the counter as he walks over to another part of the kitchen to deposit the food bowls for the cats out of Winnie’s reach. I nod and leave to use the bathroom, brush my teeth. When I come back, maybe it’s just in my head, but it feels weird. Like there’s distance between us.

  Distance you put there, a voice in my head says.

  “Help yourself to whatever,” he says after washing his hands, grabbing a bowl from the cabinet. He sets about making instant oatmeal for himself, and I just sit drinking my coffee, wondering if he’s just trying to give me the space he thinks I need.

  Winnie lays down at his feet, getting the occasional head scratches while he eats his oatmeal, but it’s like I’m not in the room. I hear every little clink of the spoon, every tap of the mug on the table, He’s just staring out the window, not saying a word. I’m not sure if I’m just imagining things, but minute after slow minute goes by, the silence only getting more oppressive. I’m starting to be aware of even the sound of me swallowing sips of coffee.

  It’s driving me crazy. I thought it might be awkward, but this is beyond even that. This is torture.

  “Hunter?” I say, desperate to break through the silence. He looks up from his oatmeal, raises his eyebrows, his expression so open and welcoming. He’s always been like that.

  What was I thinking pushing him away?

  What did I really think that was going to accomplish?

  He’s my best friend. When things get tough, there’s no one else I’d rather turn to, and instead I shoved him away, determined to tackle every hurdle on my own.

  Before I know what I’m doing, I’m out of my chair, crossing the space between us, and kissing him. Just like that. No words, no warning.

  I expect him to freeze, to push me away, to ask me what the hell I’m doing, but he doesn’t do any of that. Hunter kisses me back with heat and passion lost in the current.

  When he finally does pull away, he’s breathless, eyes sparkling and confused.

  “Is this just convenience?” he asks, sounding uncharacteristically insecure. Normally Hunter’s so confident that seeing this vulnerability and worry in him tugs at something inside me.

  “You think it’s convenient to not be able to stop thinking about fucking my best friend?” I ask, standing close, lips itching with the desire to kiss him again. “I’ve tried,” I admit. “I don’t think we can get this cat back in the bag.”

  His lips quirk upward, a sly gleam taking over in his eyes. “Who says we have to?” he asks, taking my hand.

  A fierce wave of desire washes over me, culminating in a growl that rumbles up from deep in my chest. I pull him tight against me and fuse our lips together, the unbearable heat in my veins egging me on.

  The trip to his bedroom is a blur of discarded clothes and briefly-interrupted kisses. Every article of clothing shed opens up a whole new world for my hands to explore, a new beautiful chorus of sounds out of Hunter. By the time he’s closing the door behind us, there’s a dark hunger in his look that I’ve never seen before. I’m stroking his cock, kissing him like my life depends on it, and Hunter walks me back to the bed, pushing me down.

  “Last chance,” he says from the bedside, reaching down to stroke me. I feel his touch all the way to my bones, every nerve ending in my body lighting up at once.

  “Don’t keep me waiting,” I growl, hand on him too. For a long moment, we’re both just lost in touching each other and being touched. My hips raise up off the mattress to meet his hand, his precum coats my palm, making us both sticky.

  With his free hand, he grabs a condom, rolling it down my length all the way to the base, the fit snug enough to make my pulse feel even more intense throbbing through my cock.

  He’s generous with the lube, every slick touch making me want him more, sending my anticipation into overdrive, and then, Hunter straddles me, positioning himself before he starts to sit back, taking his time to relax.

  It’s pure agony the speed he chooses. It’s like he’s hardly moving at all, but slowly, so slowly, I start to fill him. Centimeter by centimeter, then inch by inch. It’s like coming home. I forgot how good this feels, but now the sensation is etched into my memory forevermore.

  My hands find his hips, pulling him down. Hunter gasps, rolling his hips, the angle shifting just right and suddenly I’m buried completely inside him, both of us frozen there.

  His muscles clamp down around me, spasming, massaging me. Hunter’s jaw hangs slack, his hands on my chest, completely silent.

  Finally, he shudders, sighs, and his eyes flutter open.

  “Ho-ly. Fuck,” he whispers, muscles tightening around me again.

  “Agreed.” I grip his hips and lift mine, thrusting up into him the only way I can.

  “Fuck, Jared… You have to… Give me a second,” he groans, even though his body is grinding against me the whole time. There’s a thin layer of sweat breaking out all over his body, his face tight in concentration, fighting off the pleasure he knows he needs to give into.

  “Too much?” I ask, grinding in again.

  He gasps, head dropping forward. “Yes,” he whispers, fingers curling into my chest, fingernails pricking me. I don’t care if he wants to draw blood with those nails if it means I’m making him feel good.

  Hunter moves his hips, his jaw hanging open the whole time, like he can’t believe it.

  “How do you feel so damn good?” he whispers, taking me deep again.

  “I was gonna ask you the same thing,” I groan, meeting his thrust.

  It’s not long before we find our rhythm, before we’re both shouting loud enough to alarm the animals, which sends us into fits of post-orgasmic giggles.

  Laying back on Hunter’s bed, sweaty, satisfied, and out of breath, I sigh, pulling him against me.

  “Is it just me, or does that get better every time?”

  He snorts, pressing a kiss to my chest, where there’s the half-moon indent of his fingernail. It’s a thoughtless little sign of affection that makes my whole chest tighten at once.

  “You might be onto something there,” he agrees, sounding happier than I’ve ever heard him. He’s not the only one. I feel like I’m made of cotton candy right now.

  That’s when it hits me that this isn’t just fooling around with my best friend. I probably should’ve seen it earlier, but these feelings brewing aren’t platonic. It’s not just a case of me being attracted to a friend. This is…more.

  I’ve never wanted more. Relationships, romance, that’s all stuff that happens in movies, not real life. Not my life at least.

  But what if it could? What if Hunter and I could have something real? Would it be just like this?

  I think I could live with that.

  Relationships end with break-ups, though. As good as it might be for a while, we’d break up eventually and then what? I’d lose my best friend too.

  That’s too scary to think about. We haven’t always been in close contact, but I’ve always known Hunter’s there if I need him. I wouldn’t even know how to handle that changing.

  “You know,” he says, turning over, propping up on one elbow to look at me. “There’s one way to find out.”

  “Huh?” I ask, still lost in my own thoughts.

  “Whether it gets better every time,” he answers, laughing when he shoves me gently. “Blood’s not back to your brain yet?” he teases.

  I chuckle, a hand sliding down his back, my finger tracing the dimple above his ass.

  “Think you’re so irresistible, do you?” I tease back.

  He snorts, throwing up a hand. “Look around, pal. Maybe ask the naked man in my bed.”

  Worries about serious feelings and relationships and questions about where this is going or what it means are just going to have to wait. I’ve got more import
ant things to focus on at the moment, starting with the most-definitely irresistible man whose fingers are making a steadily southward trek.

  Chapter 6

  Hunter

  “I hear your complaints, and I understand your frustration, but I’m afraid there’s just no way I can accommodate you right now,” I tell Angel, who’s currently making a flappy racket about being stuck in his cage while I have the audacity to vacuum in the same room.

  Winnie’s hiding in the kitchen, the cats are probably all under the bed or in the closet, and poor Angel can’t escape. I feel for him, but that’s just the way it is sometimes.

  The vacuum makes a squealing sound, the motor struggling, and I hurry to flip the switch, wafting away the smell of over-heating machinery.

  “What now?” I grumble, Angel squawking in the background. Tangled in the vacuum brush is a sock—one of Jared’s socks.

  I groan, rolling my eyes.

  He’s been here for almost two weeks and his messiness is starting to get to me. It was innocent enough at first, his clothes scattered around after we’d tumbled into bed, a coffee cup left on the counter, but as he’s gotten more comfortable, it’s become more steady. I never considered myself a neat freak, but with all the animals, I can’t just leave things lying around for a pet to eat and wind up with a thousand-dollar vet bill.

  “I thought military guys were supposed to clean up after themselves,” I grumble in Angel’s direction, wrestling the dusty sock from the roller brush. Angel squawks back, clearly as annoyed as I am.

  It’s not all bad with Jared, though. In fact, his slobbish tendencies are pretty much the only negative to him being here. It’s become all too easy and normal to fall into bed with him, to wake up with his warmth beside me. That part I can get used to.

  Right now, it’s the mess bothering me. My brother’s coming to visit and I want the place to look nice when he shows up. Hence the last-minute cleaning spree.