by M. L. Rhodes
He grabbed his sweatpants from the floor and then, not seeing a shirt handy, pulled on his still-damp jacket.
Nick still lay sleeping, stretched out on his side in nude glory with only one corner of a sleeping bag pulled over his thighs, leaving everything else--everything else--exposed. Looking at him only made Raff's heart pound faster, but whether it was from pleasure or the odd sense of fear that had suddenly assailed him, he wasn't sure.
He unlatched the door and clambered up onto the deck, careful to shut the door behind him.
Why? Are you afraid they're going to see Nick in there and suspect what you two have been doing?
He felt like the lowest kind of jerk and hated to admit it to himself, but yes.
The damp, cold chill of the gray morning instantly seeped into him, and he hastily slid up the zipper on his jacket to his neck, even as he realized he was barefoot. The rain had stopped, but the cold, wet deck caused his toes to curl.
Shit. You're presenting a great picture here, Jones. Catch your breath and get a grip.
The Coast Guard Auxiliary vessel, a private, thirty-five-foot offshore Albemarle fishing boat, sat only a few yards away to the port side with two civilian volunteers aboard. One, a red-headed young man who couldn't have been more than twenty, held a bullhorn and had obviously been the one speaking. He lowered it when he saw Rafferty emerge. The other was a grizzled old mariner who looked liked he'd been around a block or two.
"'Mawnin'," the older man called.
"'Morning."
"We're just doin' a check this mawnin' to make sure we don't have any boats in trouble. Stawm came up wicked fast last night. Several small craft caught in it. You weathah it all right?"
"Yeah. We got caught on the other side of the island, but managed to get around here and into this cove. We stayed here the rest of the night." Rafferty was all too self-conscious of the fact he'd just let slip with the word "we", indicating to the two men he wasn't alone, and seeing them eye the cabin door as if wondering who was with him.
He also realized he'd neglected to tell them about Nick's trip overboard...probably because then they'd ask a lot of questions and discover he was out here with another man.
Stop it. You've been out here with Nick before and never would have thought a thing about it in the past. They have no way of knowing anything happened between you two!
"Pretty boat," the younger man said. "You the original owner to keep it in such good condition?"
"No. I bought her three years ago as a wreck and refurbished her myself."
"Nice work. She's got good lines."
"Thanks."
Rafferty heard the soft creak of the cabin door opening and saw both men's eyes move toward it again. Nick. His heart started that uncomfortable pounding again and he couldn't seem to turn and look at Nick himself. He had an imagined vision of Nick standing in the doorway, only half-dressed, his short hair mussed from sleep like his own probably was, with a look of well-sated contentment on his face, giving the Coast Guard volunteers an eyeful and all the reason in the world to speculate. If that was the case, he just couldn't know it right now. Couldn't look.
"'Mawning," the old salt said, looking over Raff's shoulder. The younger man nodded a greeting as well.
"G'morning."
Just the sound of Nick's soft, still-gritty-with-sleep voice sent a curl of longing through Rafferty, making him ache low in his belly and in his chest, confusing him as to how it could have such a profound effect on him even as he worried about presenting a purely platonic picture to the other men.
To their credit, they didn't show any outward signs of suspicion and seemed to take Nick's presence in stride. So why then could Rafferty still not turn and look at his partner?
He knew the answer without having to think too hard. He was afraid he himself would give something away because he wasn't sure he could look at Nick without it being obvious to one and all how he felt about the man.
How do you feel about him?
He swallowed hard. Not now. Can't do this right now.
"You folks plannin' to cruise the coast apiece today?"
"No. We're headed home this morning," Rafferty said. "Before the main part of the weather front moves in."
"Ayuh," the older man agreed. "Prob'ly a smaht plan. Looks to be a treacherous one. You from downeast?"
"No, Cavanaugh Bay."
"Ah...got a cousin hails from Cav'naugh. Well, we best be getting' on ah way. See if they'uh's any othah folk needin' assistance. You be safe headin' back."
"Thanks, we will. And I appreciate you stopping to check on us."
"Ayuh. 'Mawnin' to yah both."
"Have a good one," Nick said.
The men each lifted a hand in farewell, and the big Albemarle swung away, churning a sizeable wake behind it that left the Out of My Mind rocking for several seconds.
Rafferty watched them go, but didn't realize just how tight he'd been wound, or how he'd barely dared to breathe, until Nick put a hand on his shoulder, causing him to jump. "Shit. Sorry," Rafferty said. "You startled me."
"You okay?" Nick asked, his voice low and soft with concern.
Slowly Raff turned, and felt a moment of surprise when he realized Nick was much more pulled together than he was, dressed once again in his sweatpants and shirt from last night, his jacket, and he'd even managed to pull on his sneakers before he came outside.
Rafferty dragged in several breaths, trying to reground himself and lose the tense shakiness that had held him captive since he'd first realized the Coast Guard boat was there. He dragged a hand over his face, feeling the scrape of day-old whiskers against his palm.
"Yeah. Yeah, I'm all right I guess. They just woke me up. Surprised me."
"No, it's more than that," Nick said, pulling Raff's hand away from his face and tilting Raff's head up until their gazes met. "You didn't think..." Nick's warm hazel eyes widened. "Oh, God...you did."
"Did?"
"Raff, were you worried those men would know we slept together last night?"
"No. Of course not," he lied, and pulled away. Or tried to. Nick wouldn't let him go.
Nick, with an understanding in his eyes and written on his face that was eons older than his twenty-nine years, shook his head. "Listen to me. They had no idea. The thought never crossed their minds. It poured all night. I don't care who was on this boat--on any boat--of course everyone onboard would be in the cabin.
With a humble sense of realization, he knew Nick was right, and instantly felt like both an idiot and a heel.
"I'm sorry," he mumbled. "I...this is new to me."
"It's okay. I know." Nick's hand cupped his cheek, then Nick was drawing him into a kiss. A kiss that began chaste, but quickly grew into more. Not in a sexual way exactly, although Rafferty couldn't have stopped his blood from boiling or his cock growing stiff if he'd tried. Yet still, it was more intimate than sexual. It made him feel so close to Nick he wanted to crawl inside him and stay there forever.
But the cold chill on his bare fee, and the realization they really did need to get some breakfast and head home before the weather grew worse, finally forced him to put an end to it. When he did, he had a fleeting moment of aching sadness, wondering if this would be the last time he'd ever get to kiss Nick this way.
Where's that coming from? Why would you think that?
Because the encounter with the Coast Guard volunteers had left him shaky and uncertain. In the dark, closed-in privacy of the night, on the boat in the middle of nowhere, he'd been able to relax and give in to his feelings and secret yearnings. But he wasn't sure he could do the same in the light of day. He'd barely been able to handle it here, in front of people he didn't even know. How would he handle it at home around people he did?
For weeks his fantasies had centered around Nick--kissing him, touching him, having one delicious sexual encounter after another with him. He'd never dreamed it could or would happen in real life, so his imagination and overactive lust had allowed him to t
rip merrily down erotic paths he'd never been before, and it had been titillating, exciting. But because he'd never thought it would be real, never thought it would be more than just fantasy, he'd never thought to take the fantasy one step further, into the territory of having an actual relationship with his friend. The kind of relationship that entailed dating--hell, is that what you still called it when it was two men?--or sleeping together in a real-world kind of way, and dealing with the practicalities that came with it.
Practicalities like facing other people, where, in a small conservative town like Cavanaugh Bay, having a relationship with another man could present one obstacle after another. And he didn't do obstacles well. He liked his life to be steady, calm, dependable with no surprises.
You're about as exciting as a dead haddock, Rafferty Jones. You never like anything new, never want to try anything new, never want to go anywhere outside this precious state of yours. You're never willing to take risks about anything. You're an old man before your time. If I didn't see you get up and go to work every morning I'd sometimes wonder if you were dead already.
Candace's sharp voice sliced through him, stirring up anger and resentment as it always had, but also the same dull, aching sense that maybe at least part of what she said was truth. That maybe he was too stuck in a rut, too scared to venture out of his own narrow comfort zone.
But this thing with Nick... Oh, God. This wasn't venturing out of it, this was throwing himself out of an airplane at ten-thousand feet, terrified the parachute might not open, and that even if it did, he'd never be able to gain control of it and he'd be smashed to a pulp against the unforgiving ground on landing.
For a second such a sharp pain hit Rafferty in the chest he thought he might pass out.
"Raff..." As if he knew something of what Rafferty had been thinking and feeling, Nick's arms went around him, pulled him close, offering comfort, understanding.
"I don't know if I can do this," Rafferty whispered, leaning into Nick, accepting the comfort, yet feeling like he was being a hypocrite...taking, but not sure if he could give back.
"Don't over-think it. Let's just take it one day at a time, okay? There's no rush. There's no pressure."
"I never thought beyond..."
"Beyond the sex?"
Rafferty nodded. "Never thought how..."
"I know." Nick leaned back and once against tilted his chin so they were looking eye to eye. "I do know, Raff. I've been there. Been through what you're feeling."
"How...when? Last night you said you'd... I mean... Jesus, I'm not sure what I mean." He dragged a hang through his hair and looked over Nick's shoulder at the helm, trying to sort his thoughts and ragged emotions into something cohesive.
"Last night I told you I'd been with a man before and you want to know what exactly I meant by that?" Nick supplied.
"I guess, yeah. Was it one time or..." Why couldn't he just get the words out?
"I'm gay, Raff. I've known it since I was a younger teenager, but didn't act on it until I was nineteen. I had my first encounter with a kid back home in college. We slept together over a period of several months. Both of us were just beginning to explore and come to terms with our preference, and it was all good. We weren't in love or anything, but we genuinely liked each other and it was a good experience. I didn't sleep with anyone else until after I'd moved to Boston. There was someone there. We were together about two years and it was...complicated. We broke up about six months before I moved up here and there's been no one since. Until last night with you."
"I never knew that about you. How I could not have known?"
"Because I made sure you didn't know. Because I wanted to be taken seriously at work for what I knew and what I could do, not who I was doing."
"But we've been friends outside of work for four years. Did you feel you couldn't trust me?"
Nick sighed. "Yeah, I knew I could trust you, and if it had ever come up, I would have been honest. But the truth of the matter is, there was no reason for it to come up. I told you...I haven't been with anyone since I left Boston. It's not like I've been sneaking around seeing someone. The only person I was interested in was you. I knew it from the beginning. But I thought..." He shrugged.
"That I was straight."
Nick nodded.
"So did I. I don't understand this. I'm thirty-five years old. How does a person get to this point without realizing?"
"It's different for everyone, Raff. I can tell you you're not alone. There are plenty of other men who don't become aware they're attracted to other men until their thirties, forties, sometimes even much, much later than that."
"It's just all...a lot," Rafferty said, pulling out of Nick's arms and stepping away. "Right now I...I don't know what to think. My brain feels like it's on overload."
"Like I said, we'll just take this one day at a time. There's no pressure."
Rafferty swallowed hard and slowly nodded. "Okay. But...I'm thinking it might be best, at least for now, if we take a step back and just..." He sighed. "Well, if we don't do anything intimate for a while. Give me some time to wrap my mind around all this. Give me some space."
Raff couldn't miss the flicker of hurt in Nick's eyes, but when Nick said, "I understand. You take your time. I'm not going anywhere," he sounded sincere. Still...there was an underlying sadness to the words.
And that made his chest ache worst than it already had been.
It's for the best. For now.
Then why did he feel like such a hypocrite, for a different reason this time? If it was for the best, then why did he so badly want to drag Nick back into the cabin, strip him out of his clothes, and do a repeat performance of last night?
"You're barefoot. It's cold out here. Let's go make some coffee." Nick was smiling, clearly trying to soothe the tension and put Rafferty at ease, but the pain still lingered in his eyes--he was too genuine and open to hide it completely--and that tugged at Raff's heart. Nick was a good man. Probably too good to have to be tangled up in an emotional knot with a guy who didn't know whether he was coming or going, who wanted to eat his cake, but was too scared to do it in the open.
With another sigh, he followed Nick down the steps into the cabin, wondering why it all had to be so complicated.
* * * *
When they docked in the early afternoon, Nick helped him secure the boat, clean up, and do the routine maintenance.
Nick hadn't said another word about what had happened between them last night, about his own expectation or needs, obviously taking his cue from Rafferty, who'd kept the few brief conversations they'd had centered around the weather and work. And while on one hand Raff had appreciated it, on the other hand, he'd hated every second of it. In truth, questions kept popping into his head about so many things, and he found himself wanting Nick's considerably more experienced feedback on them. He'd found himself wondering if Nick's family knew he was gay--he knew the elder Tuckers were good, church-going folk and that Nick's dad was some kind of bigwig in their church. He wondered what it had been like for Nick when he realized he liked men, and how he'd dealt with it in front of his friends, his parents, his older sisters, the people at the police precinct where he'd worked in Boston. But he couldn't bring himself to ask. And he didn't know why. And he hated it.
Was he afraid if he talked about it the answers might actually make sense and then he'd have no excuse not to venture down this newly discovered path of his life? Or maybe he thought not talking about it might make it easier to pretend it hadn't happened so they could move on as they had been.
But do I want to go back to the way things were before? Silently and secretly dreaming and fantasizing about the man, even as I pretended I was perfectly content to be just friends?
No, the little voice deep inside him said. You know what it's like now, and it was good, and you loved it and want more. How can you ever go back?
But how can I go forward?
Those were the questions that weighed on Rafferty's mind, repeating over
and over until he wanted to bury his head in the sand somewhere and make it all stop.
When they stood in the parking lot of the dock, between Nick's 4Runner and Rafferty's Mustang, having already loaded their gear into their respective vehicles, a long, silent moment stretched between them as they looked at one another. He sensed Nick wanted to kiss him. And he couldn't deny he wanted to be kissed. But standing in broad, albeit gray daylight, with other people wandering about, Rafferty couldn't work up the nerve. And again hated himself for it.
"So, I'll see you at work tomorrow then," Nick said, the one finally breaking the strained silence. He seemed to always have a knack for that...knowing what and when to say something to keep things from becoming too awkward.
Except they were awkward, damn it. And Raff knew it was his fault.
"Yeah. Oh...wait, no. Shit." He shook his head. "I just remembered, I have to go down to Portland in the morning. I'll be there through Wednesday for that class Chief Kramer's making me take."
"I'd forgotten about that."
"Me, too. I guess I won't see you until Thursday then."
Nick nodded. He was doing an admirable job of keeping his expression even, but again, he was too open and honest to hide his feelings completely. He was hurting. "Drive safely going down there."
"Yeah, I will. So..." He hesitated a moment longer, knowing it was serving no purpose to continue standing here wanting something he'd already told Nick was off-limits, knowing Nick wasn't going to make a move unless he did first. "Have a good evening and I'll see you later in the week."
He opened the door of his Mustang and started to climb in, and Nick moved around his vehicle to his driver's side door.
But just before Rafferty shut his car door, Nick said, "Raff...if you need or want to talk the next few days, you can call me anytime."
The expression on his face made Rafferty want to say to hell with it all, climb out of his car, go press Nick up against his SUV and show him how much he wanted him, needed him. But he didn't. Couldn't.
You're scared shitless.