by Jools Louise
For the past three and a bit years they’d all lived at Two Spirit ranch, owned by his old captain, Joe McKellar, completing all the planning and designs for the town there, sharing a house together. He and Thomas stayed in town now, the place a speck on the map that people would miss if they blinked…until a mad cult leader and his henchmen had blown the place and half its residents to smithereens after a nearly three-year battle to uncover their operation. The cult, the Will and the Word, had built up a network of criminal activity, kidnappings, child torture, and drugs and gun running, to name but a few of their illegal activities. Their favorite target of choice was shifter kids. Last autumn, the Two Spirit crew had finally managed to put the cult’s plans to rest and were well on the way to completing the reconstruction of Sage.
Cody, as foreman of the operation, was ably assisted by Thomas. The ex-detective helped with the endless paperwork for building codes and zoning applications, plus the applications made for new businesses. Cody enjoyed coordinating the workers in their various tasks, a huge headache since they weren’t just in charge of one building, but an entire town.
Thomas suddenly winced, rubbing his knee, which had Cody looking at him with concern.
“Are you okay?” Cody asked, keeping his hand on Thomas’s arm. “You’ve been standing for too long. I’ll get you a seat.” Without waiting for a reply he ran over to the dining hut, a cook shack with a big awning attached, and returned with a white plastic chair, which he guided Thomas into.
Thomas looked at Cody, amused at the man’s overreaction. The man may not be screaming gay vibes at him, but he had the whole mother hen routine down just fine.
“Baby, I’m okay, just a little twinge is all,” he said, laughing outright when Cody waved his hand, poo-pooing the excuses. Thomas tried out the endearment, just to see how Cody would react, and the guy flushed slightly…Thomas was pleased he’d gotten a reaction, however slight. He’d waited years for Cody, and soon he planned to reap the rewards.
“You were severely injured, baby, just a few months ago. If you weren’t so stubborn about walking everywhere instead of using the wheelchair occasionally, you wouldn’t be so sore all the time.” Cody sounded grumpy now, which had Thomas smiling even more, because Cody had said “baby” as well, however sarcastically. Cody never used endearments and was embarrassed when Thomas did so. Thomas loved Cody’s gruff acceptance of their connection. Progress at last.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you cared,” Thomas replied, clutching both hands to his chest melodramatically.
Cody had an intent look in his eyes, something Thomas hadn’t seen before. “Thomas, I’ve always cared about you. I’ve just never known what to do about it.” He flushed bright pink, looking embarrassed as hell, and then muttered something about checking on some delivery of paving flags and strode off quickly.
Thomas’s mouth remained open, the big man bemused and amazed as he watched Cody leave.
* * * *
“Fuck!” Cody cursed. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He’d pretty much just outed himself to a man he’d had confused feelings for most of his life. Even his crew didn’t know about his orientation, sexually speaking. He’d never hear the end of it…especially from John. The guy lived to tease. The truth was, Cody had struggled to come to terms with his attraction for boys. His parents wouldn’t have cared, one way or the other, but his classmates certainly would. Gangs in his neighborhood ran the school and the streets. Kids got shanked all the time for breaking unspoken rules. Being gay? In that place? Not a chance. Cody, who had been a shrimp of a kid, would have been pummeled into the gutter and left to rot.
Thomas, his good friend, had been big even back then, not intimidated by the bullies and they didn’t bother him. He was the son of the chief of police at a local precinct. Even the thugs-in-training had known better. Cody was not so lucky. He was scrawny, a late developer, and was busted most days until Thomas had rescued him, seconds from having his head flushed down a grimy toilet after being pissed on. That had been in second grade. Thugs started early in New York City.
He heard a shout and turned to see Thomas hobbling toward him, fast despite being on crutches. Cody scowled, seeing the sticks, knowing Thomas was in far more discomfort than he let on. The idiot was too stubborn for his own good.
Thomas reached him, his dark eyes searching Cody’s intently. “Did you mean it?” he asked gruffly, almost hesitantly.
“Yes,” Cody replied, not meeting Thomas’s eyes. He heard Thomas step closer, felt the heat from his body. A hand cupped Cody’s cheek gently and Thomas’s thumb brushed Cody’s lips lightly.
“I feel the same,” Thomas whispered, and Cody lifted his eyes, dark brown locking with hazel. They leaned closer, two big men just shy of six and a half feet of prime musculature, the kiss light as a whisper.
The second kiss was more like that of a pair of rhinos clashing at full charge, hard and hot and full of testosterone. Moaning, whimpering, the two men clutched and caressed and explored with restless hands as they attempted to devour each other with their avid mouths.
Cody felt his cock harden to granite, felt Thomas’s full-grown python pushing at his thigh, and had to pull back before he ended up giving Sage’s construction workers a sex show.
Panting, he wrenched away, his hands clutching at Thomas’s strong arms, lips swollen from the epic kisses. “Well, I’m glad we cleared that up,” Cody quipped, his mouth quirking at the corner.
Thomas let out his deep, booming laugh and hugged Cody close. “Cody, my friend, when you come out, you do it in style.” Cody froze at the comment, closing his eyes. It occurred to him that the sounds of buzz saws and jackhammers and other evidence of busy men at work had ceased. A couple of wolf whistles reached his ears and his blush deepened even further.
“Cody and Thomas, walking down the street, k-i-s-s-i-n-g,” came a sing-song voice—a British voice. Cody looked over Thomas’s shoulder and saw ex-army buddy John Hastings and his husband Cameron walking toward him, their tribe of adopted shifter kids in tow. John had the biggest shit-eating grin on his face, his vivid green eyes blazing with laughter in his tanned face, his stride confident and graceful as a cat.
“Papa John, don’t be mean,” a young boy of about eight years old scolded and Cody grinned at John’s contrite expression, which he knew was only for the children’s benefit—once the guy was able, he would be ribbing the hell out of Cody.
“Oscar, my love, I’m merely singing a little song,” John explained innocently. “Cody enjoys me singing little ditties, don’t you, Cody?” John’s dark eyebrows rose, waggling up and down as his little tribe trooped up the recently paved street.
“No, Papa John, you’re being a smarty pants,” Cameron said, nipping his new husband’s earlobe sharply. “Leave Cody alone. I think it’s cute that he’s found someone to love at his age.”
John belted out a laugh at the quip, his eyes daring Cody to respond in front of the children.
“I’m not too old to kick your a—” Cody began, then took a deep breath as he realized he was about to swear in front of the little ones. He stepped back from Thomas and turned to his tormenters, ignoring John’s continued laughter. “What are you here for, anyway? It’s a little dusty for the kids, isn’t it?” Cody didn’t want to be asking about kids. He wanted to go find some nice, flat, quiet place to continue kissing Thomas.
Ruby, a seven-year-old little girl, stepped toward Cody, staring up into his face. She had been adopted by John and Cameron nine months before, after their double wedding with Murphy and Aiden, and Mick and Jamie. She had no parents and had been part of the cult’s wicked test-tube breeding program, a product of scientific experimentation. “My daddies said they wanted to show us where the bakery and bed-and-breakfast place was going to be,” she said timidly, sucking on a lollipop. “Is it safe to go there?”
Crouching down, Cody smiled gently at her, noting her long black hair pulled into pigtails, big blue eyes, and the pretty blue tartan p
inafore dress, blue opaque tights, and little blue boots she wore. “Ruby, I’m sure it’s perfectly safe,” he said, stroking a lock of hair from her cheek. “But it is dirty and you’ll need to wear a hard hat to protect your head. It’s still a little rough underfoot in there.” He tweaked her nose, grinning at her nod, and then gave her a hug, unable to resist.
“Will you show us the way, Uncle Cody?” she asked, kissing his cheek after removing her lollipop, smearing red sugar on his face.
“Come on, then,” he said, lifting her in his arms. “Thomas and I were just saying we needed to take a look at the bakery.” He ignored John’s muttered response at the blatant untruth and the repetition of his little song.
Shooting John a warning look, Cody began walking along the street, heading for the crossroads at the center of town and then veering left. The town was small but had once been a thriving community, happy and supportive, a little off the beaten track but not suffering as a result. Beneath their feet had been a series of tunnels, spreading for miles, right into Grand Tetons National Park nearby. As part of the revamped version of Sage, the tunnels had not been filled in, as had initially been suggested, but incorporated into basements, sectioned off by thick steel supporting walls and brickwork, providing extra storage space. Some of the stores were looking at connecting, pooling their collective resources into an underground mall, on a smaller scale but similar to one in Montreal, giving more retail space and making it comfortable to shop during the hard winter months.
The bakery was situated on a site next to a bed-and-breakfast inn that had belonged to two elderly residents who had died when Sage was destroyed. Kim and Herb had lived in the town for decades, building their business, until the town was invaded by cult members and they shut down while Herb had been incarcerated by the local cult mafia running drugs and children through the tunnels.
John had some significant skills at baking and had taken some intensive courses in patisserie and bread making. He planned to open a little coffee and specialty tea shop that provided a selection of baked goods as well as savory breakfast items. Mason planned to take on the bed-and-breakfast establishment. Already, before the place was even finished, they’d had inquiries about which shops and businesses were being planned, and Mason had two bookings already for people wanting to stop over the first night it opened.
Mason was a black jaguar shifter, formerly a pure-bred jaguar converted by Joe into a shifter by mistake. He had surprised everyone by wanting to move into town and open a business.
The building Cody led the others to was almost complete. A diner, owned by Mick’s father-in-law Jack and his husband Jamie, was farther up, at the corner of the crossroads. There was only cosmetic work to finish—lighting fixtures, ovens to install, and then tables and chairs, as well as decorating the walls of the bakery. The inn just needed some plumbing for the en suite bathrooms, kitchen equipment, and the soft furnishings to be delivered, and it was good to go. The last place—essential, really, given the amount of accidents that could occur—was a new medical center, which was pretty much ready to go and only needed people to staff it. They’d interviewed a number of people from all over, and once they got the all clear, they would open as soon as possible.
Ruby squealed as they reached the bakery, her brothers Oscar and Murray and her little sister Primrose looking excited, too. Her older siblings, Olivia and Kristoff, fifteen and sixteen respectively, were a little more restrained about the whole thing. Still, when Cody handed the shop keys to John, they had big smiles on their faces.
“Here you go, Papa John,” Cody drawled, grinning at his friend who looked as eager as the kids. “Knock yourself out, buddy.” He felt a small hand tugging at his ear and turned his head to see Ruby looking at him worriedly.
“But, Uncle Cody, he has to wear a hard hat, too. I don’t want him knocked out.” Her lower lip trembled, those blue eyes melting his heart to mush.
He cleared his throat. “Of course, silly me. Nobody wants John to be knocked out, do they?” he replied with a hint of sarcasm, praying the little imp didn’t pick up on it. He was only half serious.
Placing her on her blue-shod feet, he sighed with relief when she scampered off. She happily explored the place with her siblings, looking excitedly at the display cases and shelving, arguing over which cakes they’d be trying first once the place opened. The bakery had an extra two floors above and one below. Downstairs was storage. Upstairs was extra dining space in case they got busy, or for functions, plus the office and a break room. Above that, with its own private staircase and elevator, was living space that John and his family were using at the moment, while they were getting the bakery started. At some point John and Cameron would make a decision whether to live in town permanently or stay in their beautiful cottage at the ranch and commute.
“If you breathe a word, my friend,” Cody rasped in John’s ear before the guy could escape, “before I’m ready to tell anyone about me and Thomas, I’ll boot your skinny ass right down Main Street, shove you on the roof of the town hall, and have you mounted as the new flagpole with your underpants wrapped around your neck.”
John attempted a repentant look, which didn’t fool Cody for a second, the ex-sergeant being experienced in the guy’s fearless character. The man would laugh at the devil himself and not bat an eyelid.
“Yes, Sergeant,” John replied, deadpan, his eyes showing a convincing amount of remorse. He even managed a snappy salute. “I promise I won’t breathe a word about the fact I saw you and Thomas k-i-s-s-i-n-g right in the middle of Main Street.” He paused and leaned in closer to whisper the punchline. “I cannot, in all honesty, vouch for the two hundred construction workers who downed tools at the exact moment you and the aforementioned Thomas shared a kiss to rival all kisses.” He wiped an imaginary tear from his eye, blinking rapidly and sniffing delicately. “It was truly an emotional moment, Cody. Epic, in fact.”
Cody reacted by grabbing his friend in a headlock and giving the man a noogie, hearing the chuckles around him at their antics. Even Ruby was laughing at seeing her Papa John taken down a peg or two.
Belatedly, breathless from the roughhousing, Cody realized Thomas hadn’t followed them into the bakery and went outside to find out where his friend was.
Yelling in alarm, he saw his friend sprawled in the dust clutching his knee, his crutches on the ground, blood seeping through the leg of his jeans.
“Shit!” he yelled again, running fast to help. “Call Lex,” he yelled to John, who followed him out. “We need to get him to the ranch clinic.” John nodded, immediately punching numbers into his cell phone, looking concerned.
Chapter Two:
Prosthetics and Pain
“You need a new prosthetic,” Lex diagnosed sympathetically after examining the stump of Thomas’s leg. “The fit isn’t right, and it’s putting undue pressure where it shouldn’t and the sock is rubbing the joint raw. For now, don’t use it. Rely on your crutches and wheelchair. The wheelchair would be best, but I know how stubborn you are. Just take it easy. This is a significant injury that won’t just heal overnight and you’ve exacerbated it by not coming to see me sooner. You need to give your body a break, let it tell you when you need to go easy. I know some people who’ll be able to fit you with a better, more comfortable limb that uses the latest in prosthetic compounds.” Lex finished his scolding and took a breath, leaving Thomas looking sheepish as hell.
“What about Martin O’Hennessey?” Cody asked. “He was a medic when we were grunts, left the military to specialize in making prosthetics for amputees. I could give him a call.” He sent Lex a look. “He’s one of us. Sympathetic to what we’re doing here, if you know what I mean.”
“If you mean he’s a shifter, I think I’d like to meet him,” Thomas interjected from the cot he lay on.
Cody exchanged a wry look with Lex. “Sorry, Tommy. I keep forgetting us shifters are ‘out’ now. I’ve spent so long hiding what I am, it’s become habit to euphemize words.”
>
Thomas sat up while Lex bandaged his stump and helped him into loose sweatpants, accepting assistance into a wheelchair without his usual protests. “Don’t sweat it, Cody. I don’t blame you, after what’s been happening around here.” He shook his head, looking sad. “I still can’t believe anyone would condone what happened to all those kids. I was a cop for a lot of years, and humans still surprise me with their capacity to fuck everything up and then screw everyone else over for kicks.”
Cody’s hand lingered on his friend’s shoulder. “I think we all have that in us. There’s just some folks better at it than others,” he said dryly, grinning a little. “Now quit lazing around. I need to get back to town before those workers get unruly on me and decide to throw a party while the boss is away.”
Thomas snorted and allowed Cody to wheel him out of the clinic to the waiting truck, waving good-bye to Lex, who grinned at the pair of them.
“Cody!” a voice yelled at them as he helped Thomas into the cab. “Wait!”
He turned to see five young men bearing down on him and rolled his eyes. What he really needed was to get Thomas somewhere to continue what they started earlier. He let out a frustrated sigh, which had Thomas grinning wickedly, reading him perfectly.
David, Chaz, Kevin, Kieran, and Alfie were five young shifters who had once been victims of the cult and had recently graduated from a college about seventy miles away, near Powell. He rolled his eyes and crossed his big arms across his chest, waiting for the inevitable questions.
“It’ll be finished when I tell you it’s finished. I don’t know when that will be exactly, since the apartment block still has quite a bit of work to do on it. Of course you can have first pick of the apartments once construction is completed. Yes, you can have pets, just don’t let your felines eat them. No, I don’t know if anybody’s planning to build a bar in town. Yes, I’m sure there’ll be jobs once all the business applications have been accepted and people begin moving into town. No, I have no fucking clue why you keep asking the same fucking questions over and over again and expecting different fucking answers. Did I cover them all?”