Cultivating Love

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Cultivating Love Page 4

by Addison Albright


  They’d always held themselves in check, neither wanting to act like he actually enjoyed bottoming, or willing to admit he’d be willing to suck cock. Would like to, even. They’d even held back just plain making out, not wanting to show too much actual emotion toward the other. What drove that bullshit? Some level of self-hate? Fear of being some further degree of gay? Well, screw that. Ed knew what they’d been missing now and was determined it would be different going forward.

  The loud smacking sounds their lips made eventually brought Ed out of the fog surrounding his brain. His hand, still wedged between them and held tightly by Joe’s, was going numb. Did Joe taste his own cum in Ed’s mouth? Did he like it?

  Joe eventually eased up and rolled to the side. He spoke first, which saved Ed from having to think of something. “I guess I owe you.”

  Ed’s breath caught in his chest. He didn’t want Joe to feel like he had to return the favor if he was truly averse to the idea, but there’d been a twinkle in his eye as he’d said the words. “Only if you want to.”

  Joe stifled a laugh. “Fine, I’ll say it. I want to.” He rolled his eyes. “You’re turning into quite a pushy bottom these days.”

  Ed snorted. “You can fetch me a wash cloth for that crack.”

  Joe laughed, but rolled off the bed and walked to the bathroom. Ed got up and sorted out the mess of clothes on the floor. Joe returned and tossed the wet cloth to Ed. His eyes continued to sparkle as he donned his clothes. “It’s still my turn, you know.”

  Ed had to laugh now. Joe didn’t give up easily. It didn’t matter anyway. Much as he’d hate to admit it, he enjoyed bottoming for Joe.

  For all the fuss Joe made, he always came pretty hard himself when it was Ed’s turn topping. Ed kept the mood light as he wiped the spunk from his hand and abs. “Whatever.”

  Joe returned the cloth to the bathroom while Ed got dressed, then Joe pulled him in for another quick kiss before they went outside to unload. “I missed you. Welcome home.” He grinned crookedly, but looked Ed right in the eye.

  Ed’s smiled. “I missed you, too. Come on, let’s get unloaded.”

  * * * *

  “Look at you, all housewifey with pot roast in a Crock-Pot.”

  Joe snorted. He was too wiped out to think of a decent comeback, or even to care. In fact, after getting everything hauled into the house and sorted into the correct rooms, then taking care of the animals, he was downright glad he’d thought of the latter. He was hungry as a horse but with no gumption left for cooking.

  “It looks and smells pretty good, doesn’t it?” he crowed.

  “You know, it does.” Ed sounded rather awed. They loaded their plates and sat.

  Ed took a bite. “This is great. Was it hard to make?” He glanced at some cookbooks on a shelf. They’d never bothered to get a cookbook for themselves. “With all that meat in the freezers, we’re going to have to do stuff like this more often.”

  “Actually, it was amazingly easy. I wish we’d figured this out years ago.”

  “As I said, tastes great, too.”

  Neither man had any trouble filling his belly with the flavorful beef, potatoes, and carrots.

  Joe cleared his throat and took a sip of water. He should say something about that photo album he’d found in the dresser, but what? He needed to introduce the delicate subject with a little more finesse than simply blurting, “Guess what? You had a lot more in common with your dad than you might’ve imagined.” Ed was deep-sixing his emotions about this whole confusing tragedy, but they hadn’t lived together for years without learning to pick up on subtle clues. The twitch in Ed’s cheek screamed the need for tact regarding his father. He opened his mouth to broach the subject, then straightened when a board creaked on the front porch, followed by a short rap on the door.

  Ed looked at him. “Were you expecting anyone?”

  Joe smiled. “No. I guess you’ve got your first visitor.”

  “We’ve got our first visitor.”

  Well, yeah, but Joe doubted he’d be the one folks were curious about, other than he was the man living with Ed. He shoveled a final forkful of food into his mouth and followed Ed to the door.

  A trio of smiling female faces awaited them on the other side of the screen door. Ruby Owens was holding a big welcome basket full of fruit and such, and two younger ladies stood slightly behind her.

  Joe opened the door. “Miz Owens. How nice to see you again.”

  “Please come in, ladies,” Ed added rather needlessly since they were already trooping into the living room.

  “My goodness, something sure smells delicious,” Ruby said. “I hope we’re not interrupting your dinner.”

  “No, ma’am,” Ed replied. “We were just finishing up.”

  “Ed, Joe, please meet my daughter Eliza and her friend Joanne.”

  The ladies looked to be somewhere around twenty or twenty-one. They all said “hello,” and Eliza, apparently taking after her mother in boldness, looked them over rather thoroughly while Joanne blushed.

  Ruby continued. “Ed, we heard you’d rolled back into town this afternoon with your trailer loaded up, so we thought this would be a good time to bring you your fruit basket and officially welcome you both to Mayfield.”

  “Thank you, Miz Owens,” Ed replied. “This looks wonderful. It’s much appreciated. Won’t you all sit down with us for a while?” He took the proffered basket and placed it on a table.

  The ladies lost no time finding seats, with Eliza quickly positioning herself on the sofa next to Joe, sandwiching him between herself and Ruby. Ed seemed lost as he sat in the last chair, near Joanne.

  “I don’t imagine you boys know much about what goes on in Mayfield yet, so I’ll tell you a little about it,” Ruby said. “We have an annual town festival that’s coming up in a couple weeks. It’ll be set up in the commons across from the square.”

  Joe perked up. That actually sounded good. He and Ed had often sought out town festivals in the Omaha area. “Oh, yeah? What does the Mayfield festival have? A flea market? Craft tables? Carnival rides?”

  “Yes, yes, and yes. We’ll also have carnival games and a few food vendors on top of Sawyer’s Restaurant setting up a barbeque tent.”

  Ed’s eyes opened wide at the word “barbeque,” and his stiff and polite “company smile” relaxed. “That’s in a couple weeks?” He looked at Joe. “We’ll be able to spare time for that, won’t we?”

  Hell, they’d burn out if they didn’t make time for some fun. “We’ll manage it.”

  “Wonderful,” Ruby said. “There’ll be a big hoedown in the evening. Music and dancing on the square. Young and old all look forward to it. Quite a few are hoping to see you both there.”

  Joe’s eyes widened, and he stole a glance at Ed. The “company smile” was back, and Ed’s Adam’s apple bobbed, but they needed to say something. “Sounds like a good time, Miz Owens.” It wasn’t a complete lie. Joe had attended dances growing up and at least knew how to two-step. He wasn’t averse to the idea. He didn’t dislike women; he just didn’t want to fuck them. He didn’t know how Ed felt about dancing, though. It wasn’t as if they’d ever gone dancing together.

  “So you guys plan to attend?” Eliza piped in, getting right to the point. She was a chip off the old block.

  Ed’s eyes screamed “hell no,” but attending a town social event was a good idea. Joe waffled a bit. “We’ll sure try, miss.” He could talk to Ed privately about it later.

  “Oh, you can call me Eliza,” she simpered with an eyelash bat. Joe stiffened. If there were rumors about him and Ed, she clearly hoped they were false. Why she was singling him out was a mystery, though. Maybe she just had a thing for blond guys, ’cause Ed clearly had more to offer.

  “Thank you, Eliza.” He carefully calculated his smile to be polite and friendly, but not encouraging. He wanted to make friends with the townspeople, not tick them off.

  Joanne apparently didn’t want to be left out. She focused on Ed. “Y
ou’ll save a dance for us if you come?”

  Ed looked like a fish out of water. “Uh, well, I don’t really know how to dance. Sounds like Joe does, though. I bet he’d be happy to save dances for you gals.”

  Joe laughed. Ed wasn’t going to turn the tables on him that easily. “Oh, two-stepping is easy, Ed. I can teach you in less than five minutes some evening.”

  Ed didn’t look convinced, but at least he didn’t look angry.

  “It’s very easy,” Eliza added. “Please do come. Everyone wants to meet you both.”

  There wasn’t much Ed could say to that. “Well, again, we’ll sure try to be there. Thank you.”

  That satisfied the ladies, and Ruby stood. “Let’s get going, girls. I’m sure these young men would like to get their unpacking done.” She turned to the guys. “It was nice talking with you both. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around at the store.”

  Ed replied, “Yes, ma’am. Nice seeing you again, too.”

  They saw the ladies out the door, then returned to the kitchen.

  Ed grabbed the plates off the table. “I’m not sure it’s a good idea to encourage them. Might make them mad later when nothing comes of it.”

  “Well, hell, I wasn’t trying to encourage them, not romantically. It’s a good idea for us to make friends here, and the festival and hoedown will be a good chance for us to do so.”

  “I know, I know. I just feel like we’re in the closet all over again. It’s awkward.”

  Joe put the leftovers in a glass storage container while Ed rinsed the dishes. “Yeah, I’m not comfortable hiding it. I don’t want the girls thinking we’re rejecting them ’cause we don’t like them, but I didn’t want to make an announcement without being sure you were okay with it first.”

  “That’s what I was thinking, too. I vote we go to the festival and dance and have fun. You can teach me that two-step and we can make friends. If anyone tries to get too cozy, we’ll let them know we’re together.”

  “Sounds good. Honestly, I was a little surprised those ladies came onto us like that. I’d gotten the impression there were already rumors flying around about us.”

  “Why? What happened while I was gone?”

  Joe sighed. He didn’t want to bother Ed with it. “Nothing much. Just the way some stockman at the feed store treated me. I felt like that might be what was behind it. Some people are assholes.”

  “I can’t imagine why anyone would be jumping straight to that conclusion.”

  “Ah, well, there might be a reason for it. I was going to tell you this over dinner, but then the ladies came and interrupted me. Hold on a sec.” Joe walked to the living room and picked up the cruise photo album he’d placed in the bookcase by Fred’s other, more public, family photo albums. Back in the kitchen, he handed it to Ed.

  Ed stared at the book and bit his lip. He eyed Joe warily. “What is it?”

  “Pictures of your dad. I found these yesterday.”

  “Shit, Joe. I’ve never seen a picture of him before. But how are these photos a reason for people to be jumping to conclusions about us?”

  “Hell, you just need to look in a mirror to know what he looked like. But just look at the photos. They’ll answer a few questions.” And probably create a few, too.

  Ed sat at the table and carefully placed the book in front of him. He took a deep breath and flipped it open to the first page with a photo of two men standing in front of a cruise ship backdrop. They had their arms around each other’s waist, and both wore wide happy grins, shorts, and new-looking Hawaiian shirts. “Jesus.”

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah. Jesus.”

  “Ah, that other guy looks like a younger version of the man I told you about, the hostile one who was taking care of the animals before we got here. I figure this photo must be about ten years old.”

  “This does explain a lot. About what happened between my parents, anyway.”

  “I guess your dad figured things out a little late, or after a failed attempt at marriage, he came to accept what he’d tried to deny.”

  “It doesn’t justify this other guy’s attitude, though. He was apparently my dad’s best friend. His lover. I don’t know why Dad left everything to me, but he must have cared on some level, even if he’d never had the guts to come forward in his life. So why does his best friend hate us? It’s not because we’re gay, since he apparently is, too.”

  “Yeah, it’s weird. But it explains some of the local behavior toward us. I don’t think they were actually ‘out’ because this album was hidden in a dresser drawer instead of being on the living room shelf with the others. But in a small town, folks probably at least had some strong suspicions.”

  Ed flipped through the pages. “You mentioned other photo albums?”

  “A couple. One’s full of candid photos with your dad as an adult and other people, friends, I guess. The other is an older family album. Something he might have inherited? Looks like he grew up in this house as an only child.”

  Ed looked up. “Wow. So there are photos of my grandparents?”

  “Yeah, and other people. Hopefully someone can tell you who’s who.”

  Ed grew quiet, staring at a photo in the album where his dad’s happy, suntanned face beamed up at him. Then Ed’s shoulders shook. He stiffened, as if fighting it, then his whole body shuddered. He kept staring at the page and swallowing, struggling to keep his breath steady.

  Would Ed want some privacy? Joe rocked on his feet. Should he leave the room? Probably. No way his lover would want Joe to see him cry, but fuck it…he didn’t want to leave him alone, so put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

  Ed’s head lowered slightly, and he shook it. A tremor ran through his shoulders. Joe didn’t stop to think; he pulled Ed to his feet and wrapped his arms around him. Ed’s arms encircled Joe’s waist, and his body heaved as he put his head on Joe’s shoulder.

  Joe petted Ed’s hair, an oddly satisfying thing to do. Ed’s arms tightened around him, and Joe felt dampness on his shoulder.

  Ed sniffed. “Why, Joe? Fuck. Why did he leave me all alone in the world? I was so fucking alone before you.”

  What the hell could Joe say to that? I was so fucking alone before you. He tightened his arms around Ed, rocking gently, not wanting to think about how alone he’d also felt before meeting Ed, or even how alone he’d felt spending just two nights away from him. “We’ve got each other now. That’s all that matters.”

  Ed nodded against his neck right before another rap at the front door sounded. Ed jumped back, his cheeks reddening as he scrubbed his face and looked at the floor.

  “Ed, you can stay here. I’ll get rid of ’em.” Christ, their front porch was turning into Grand Central Station.

  Joe stepped into the living room and saw him standing on the porch. He still didn’t even know the hostile man’s name, and his timing couldn’t possibly be worse. Joe knew how much Ed wanted—hell, needed—to talk to him about his dad, but Ed was so emotional right now it wouldn’t be a good idea to invite the man in for that chat.

  The guy stepped back a few paces as Joe opened the door, stepped outside, and got right to the point. “Hello. What can I do for you?”

  The stony face didn’t appear to be any more inclined toward friendliness now than on the day they’d arrived in Mayfield. “I heard you got back to town today. Thought I’d stop by and pick up something that belongs to me. It was in Fred’s possession, but it belonged to both of us, and I’d like to have it.”

  “You must be on a weak branch of the Mayfield grapevine. I’ve been here every day since you first saw me. Ed just rolled back in today, though. He’s been closing up our place back in Omaha.”

  The man’s brows came together, and he appeared genuinely surprised. “Thought you were him.”

  “My name’s Joe. Joe Durham. What’s yours, and what is it you’re looking for?” A photo album, perhaps? Joe wasn’t in the mood to be helpful.

  “Bill Golden.” He looked away and to
ok a breath, as if working up the nerve to say what he wanted. “It’s personal…” He waffled. “I know where it is and would prefer to just remove it myself.”

  Yep, the photo album. Joe looked at him for a few moments, deciding how to proceed. “Well, it’s been moved.”

  Bill narrowed his eyes, but didn’t reply.

  Joe decided to give him a break. They wanted to get on Bill’s good side so Ed could get answers. “Look, you certainly don’t have anything to worry about from me and Ed. Here’s the thing. Ed’s never seen a photo of his father before today, and he’s having an emotional time of it. There are a couple of family albums in there, too, so I imagine he’ll be willing to part with the one you’re after.”

  Bill’s tension seemed to ease a bit, but he still looked confused. “I’d appreciate it.”

  “I know Ed would really like to talk to you about his father. He has a lot of questions. This isn’t a good time, though.”

  That got Bill’s back up again. “Too bad he never thought to ask Fred himself when he was alive. Woulda meant the world to him to hear from the boy.”

  What the hell was he talking about?

  Footsteps raced across the wood floor of the living room before Ed shoved open the screen door. His face was dry, but his red-rimmed eyes flashed angrily. “What kind of bullshit comment is that? The only word you got right is ‘boy.’ That’s all I was when my mother died, and I could have used a father, desperately. Where the hell was he my whole life?”

  Bill staggered back at the sight of Ed, a stricken look on his face. He managed to gasp. “Jesus.”

  That stopped Ed in his tracks. “What the hell, dude?”

  “Sorry.” Bill shook his head, regaining some composure. “Wasn’t expecting you to look so much like him.”

  Ed sighed. “Shit. This is all such a mess. Let’s—let’s settle down, go inside, and figure it out.”

  Bill nodded, his eyes frozen on Ed’s face. Joe’s chest tightened, putting himself in Bill’s shoes. Having seen the pictures of Fred and Bill together, it was obvious there were strong feelings involved.

 

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