by Tia Fielding
Emil had looked up to them, but he also wished he’d known them better or at least had the courage to befriend them back when he was still wondering about who he was himself.
Oh well, he knew now, mostly. Not having a pet hadn’t kept him from meeting Doc Donovan a few times, and his husband had taken out some stitches of his back in the… day. Doctor S. had been a good guy, a lively man who complemented Doc Donovan well, but that was pretty much all Emil knew about them.
In any case, the town was what it was, and he hoped to live there in peace for as long as it would take for him to want out. So far that day hadn’t come. He wasn’t ready; maybe he would never be. He might not have been happy, but he was content, and that was a lot these days.
That day, he wasn’t watching Joie. Instead he’d promised his mom he’d get groceries while he was in town to get a package from the post office. It wasn’t his splints yet, but he thought he’d get those in a week or so. This package would contain books he’d saved up for. Sure, it was only a couple of his favorite gay romances that had come out on hardbacks recently, but there were also books on some other stuff, including a coffee-table book on photography, which was something he really wanted to learn.
He’d figured out, with some help from Evy, that he needed a creative outlet. Now that playing guitar was out of the question, he’d been floundering. Anything requiring dexterity was out, so he needed something else, and photography might be a good starting point.
But first, groceries.
He parked his mom’s sedan in front of Millers’ and rechecked that he had the mile-long list and the wallet with her card, then exited the car. He didn’t care much for people, and eye contact was really something that seemed to invite people to talk to him, so he kept his head down and went inside the store.
He picked up a cart and started to fill it according to the list. Mom had given him free rein to get whatever he felt like needed to be added. That way he’d have something he wanted to eat in the house, so that was a plus. Giving her a list or adding things to hers was fine, but it was easier to follow random cravings and remember things when he was staring at the stuff on the store shelves.
He’d seen a nutritionist a couple of times, and he’d told Emil that if things got rough, eating anything was better than eating nothing at all. Luckily his parents had bought the idea, and Emil felt that it fit him quite well. He knew how to eat healthy stuff and mostly did, but some days or even weeks, he ate whatever he fancied and kept him going.
He was contemplating bread when a polite cough came from behind. He turned around, quick to get out of anyone’s way, when he realized he was staring at Makai.
“Sorry, was I in your way?” Emil blinked at the big guy in surprise, but then embarrassment took over and he lowered his gaze.
“A little, yeah.” Makai didn’t move, though. Instead he looked at possible ways to go and frowned. “I gotta come much closer to get past you, though, if that’s okay?”
Emil’s insides clenched in shame, and he bit his lower lip, then forced himself to look at Makai in the eyes. “Look, I wanted to say sorry. About the other day. How I… left things. How I must’ve looked.” He couldn’t hold the awkward eye contact any longer and glanced at the bread instead. “I know better, but you’re honestly the first person who ever… got it. Just like that, and so fast.”
Makai listened to him and cleared his throat at the end of his apology, or whatever you wanted to call the ramble. “I get it, in a way. I don’t know what happened to you, but I… I’ve known people who act similar ways. Hell, I have stuff of my own to work through.” His voice was calm, kind, and even. Emil hazarded a look at his face. Makai gave him a small encouraging smile. “You just have to tell me if I’m making you uncomfortable. I’ll try to remember the rules.” Now there was a hint of amusement in his expression, and Emil ducked his head and blushed lightly.
“My friends are protective,” he murmured.
“As they should be. That’s what friends are for.”
Emil decided it was time to change the subject. “Any kittens yet?”
“Nope, not yet. She’s eating me out of cottage, though,” Makai said, grinning widely, and Emil decided the man wasn’t just handsome, he could be stunning too.
“Well I’m pretty sure Joie is trying to talk Lotte into asking you for one of the kittens when they’re born, so you know, fair warning.” Emil returned the smile, just because for the moment he felt relaxed enough to do so.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Makai promised.
The bell in the front of the shop rang as someone stepped in. Emil tensed unconsciously. He didn’t want to meet anyone else.
Makai seemed to notice. “Okay, I really need to go past you and get back to Mouse.”
“Yeah, okay, well if I do this….” Emil concentrated on fitting his cart against the shelves and squished himself next to it.
Makai pushed his cart past Emil’s, trying to appear smaller, which seemed ridiculous.
“Thanks,” Emil whispered and looked up at him. Makai felt like a giant to his five feet ten inches. He wasn’t exactly short, but this guy was…. A gentle giant.
Emil blushed, and Makai turned to say something to him, but was interrupted with a pointed cough.
“How’s the shopping going, son?” his dad asked, glaring at Makai.
“Uh, it’s okay,” Emil assured him, glancing at Makai who seemed conflicted.
“Sheriff.” Makai nodded at Emil’s dad, his posture tense, even though he seemed to try to look relaxed.
“Mr. Stone.”
“Well, I’ll be going. Was nice seeing you, Emil,” Makai said quietly, as if just to him.
“Yeah, you too,” Emil replied and found that he meant it.
Makai left, and Dad came closer.
“He giving you trouble?”
“What?” The thought seemed ludicrous to Emil. “Makai?” he asked, knowing that his voice betrayed his disbelief. “Not in the least. Why?”
The radio on his dad’s shoulder crackled, and he stepped away to answer it.
Emil used the opportunity to grab the bread—first one he could see that wasn’t whiter than snow—and tossed it into the cart before turning and retreating deeper into the store. He didn’t want to hear his dad’s prejudice. He got it, he really did, but so far Makai had been nothing but good to him and everyone he’d met and Emil had talked with.
He saw some yogurt that might taste good, even tomorrow, and reached for the strawberry-flavored one. A thought hit him like lightning. He had a crush. A real, breathing, living crush, and the thought didn’t fill him with absolute dread.
He secured the yogurt by putting it into the cart and tried to keep from shaking apart. His mind had clamped down on anything romantic, let alone sexual, after the trauma he’d suffered. He’d had discussions with Evy about what it could potentially be like, completely in a theoretical sense, to have a relationship with someone.
Nothing had prepared him for the odd almost-butterflies or the full-body shiver that went through him, though. It wasn’t a pleasant sensation at all, but it didn’t seem quite as horrifying as he’d thought it might. He could see, could somewhat remember how it could turn into something exciting in a good way. But right then he felt nauseous. Great.
THAT EVENING, he was sitting on his bed and flipping through the photography book, when his dad knocked on his half-open door.
“Yeah?” Emil said, hoping this wasn’t what he thought it would be.
Dad looked tired, he was just off shift, so it made sense, but there was a weariness in his eyes too.
“Hey, son.” He stepped in but then leaned back on the doorframe, as if hoping it would help prop him up.
“Rough day?”
“Yeah. Frank and Lizzie again.” Dad sighed and rubbed a hand over his face.
“She didn’t press charges this time, either?”
“No, and it was just a noise complaint, but everyone could see something had been going
on.”
Emil hummed. Everyone in town knew Frankie liked to beat his wife, but nobody ever caught him doing it, and she didn’t talk about it. Not even when she had to have a broken arm set a couple of years ago. She’d told everyone she’d fallen down the porch steps at their house. Fallen, maybe. But how?
“But that’s not why I’m here,” Dad said quietly, in a carefully chosen tone Emil knew meant his dad was trying his best to be a dad to a twenty-one-year-old who didn’t need to obey his parents’ rules anymore. “I saw you talking to Makai Stone at the grocery store.”
“Uh-huh,” Emil hummed.
“I’d like you to be careful around him. Maybe avoid him if you can.”
Emil knew that before all had gone to hell, his dad would’ve rather used words like “stay away from him” instead of warning almost gently like he was doing now.
“He’s not a bad guy,” Emil said, looking his dad in the eyes. “Lotte and Joie like him a lot. I’ve been to his yard with Joie, and he’s nothing but kind and careful around them.” And Mouse and me.
“That might be so, but he was still convicted of something, and whatever way you might think of that, he had old gang ties, Emil. You can’t just think he’s safe if he seems like it now.”
Emil tried to keep the sudden anger out of his voice. “I didn’t think you were this prejudiced.”
Dad looked at him like he was trying to keep his own temper from flaring, which had become a well-known expression to Emil in the last couple of years. “I don’t want you to hang out with him.”
“I’m an adult, Dad. You might not want me to do something, but it’s my decision in the end.”
He was this close to getting the “under my roof” speech, but he could see the exact moment when Dad figured out they’d been heading to that direction and deflated just a little. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”
The words might’ve had a different effect in the past, but now they pissed Emil off enough to surprise him. That’s why the words left his mouth before he could swallow them down.
“Well, if he decides to start a drug business, I’ll let you know.”
It looked like he’d slapped his dad across the face.
The regret washing over Emil was immediate and immense. He got halfway off the bed, but Dad had already turned around to go.
“I’m sorry, Dad.”
“No, you’re right.” Dad cleared his throat, stopped, but didn’t turn back to face him. “You’re an adult. I should try to remember that.”
“I’ll… I’ll be careful, okay?” He didn’t say that they both knew there was no other way for him to be in any case.
“Yeah. Dinner’s in twenty, if you’re up for it.” Dad left to go change out of his uniform, and Emil went back to his bed, feeling dejected as fuck.
He knew better. He knew it wasn’t fair to even bring up the past, because he fucking knew his dad felt guilty still. Always would, most likely. After all, it had been directly because of his dad’s job that he’d been taken in the first place.
He tried to think about what his dad had said in an objective way. On the surface it made sense to be cautious of a new person in town, especially knowing what he did of Makai’s past. But the man himself was nothing like Emil would’ve expected him to be based on assumptions and prejudice.
Sure, he could probably snap Emil in half if he wanted to, but so could many other people in town. Hell, all Dad’s deputies could do it, Erin included. All it took was skill to hurt someone—you didn’t have to be big or strong.
He’d gone through enough self-defense training to know how to get away from a bad situation. At least in theory. He thought he’d most likely freeze if something bad happened to him again, but he could hope the training would kick in instead. More than anything he hoped he would never have to find out.
Sighing, he put the photography book on the floor because it couldn’t fit on the bedside table, and curled up on the bed. There were things he knew for sure, like that Makai was a stranger and he should be careful in any case. He also knew his whole being reacted to Makai in ways it hadn’t to anyone in years, and the hopeless romantic he’d tried to bury with all the other things that had been taken away from him couldn’t help but to yearn.
The one thing he knew with absolute certainty was that he wasn’t one of those people who were drawn to so-called bad boys. That was actually a deterrent for him, not an aphrodisiac. So that definitely wasn’t a factor in what he had started to feel around Makai. Nobody who knew Emil could blame him for that, at least.
He also couldn’t see a way this all could end nicely, in a neat little relationship package with a bow on top. First, he wasn’t even sure Makai liked men, despite the vibe he’d been getting from the guy a couple of times in a fleeting way. Even if he did, it didn’t mean he’d like Emil back. Those were just the bare bones of the scenario.
When Emil added his issues on top of it, he was pretty much done with his reasoning. Nobody needed to be part of figuring out Emil’s shitty life and his complexes. That in itself was a deal-breaker even in the imaginary scenario.
But there was another thing altogether to think of. Having been through a lot himself, he could understand that someone who had survived what Makai had would have issues of his own. It didn’t matter how calm Makai seemed to be or how caring. It didn’t matter that Emil felt like Makai radiated something that eased the knot inside his chest like nothing had before.
The reality of it all was that there were just too many things working against them. Even just in Emil’s imaginary little scenario that had nothing to do with real life.
Chapter Five
MAKAI ROLLED over in bed and tried to get his brain to quiet down so he could sleep.
After stumbling upon Emil in the shop, Makai felt much better about the guy. In some ways, he felt too good about him. He hadn’t expected to find someone interesting, someone who might just understand some of the shit he’d gone through, not in this town.
Coming out of prison had been one thing. Leaving Missouri with a bag of self-help books his mom had given him—they were her thing, and she thought they genuinely might help him help himself—had been a priority. He hadn’t really given thought to dating or anything like that.
Sure, he knew that his parents had once been happy together. He’d seen love growing up, and he’d fancied himself being in love with she-who-shall-not-be-named. Maybe he had been. Who even knew? But prison and what happened there, and the betrayal from his girlfriend, had pretty much broken the side of him that believed in love, romance, and any sort of physical intimacy.
He’d gone to prison thinking he was straight. He’d come out knowing he was bisexual. At first, he’d thought when a man caught his eye in prison, it had been because there weren’t any women around. After it happened a few more times, he realized he was having crushes of sorts, because the men were always capable, safe, intelligent, and handsome. He’d never had consensual sex with a guy. That was the gist of it, really. He knew he could, in theory, want a male in his bed. He just hadn’t had one positive experience, and anything men had done to him had been… well, he knew what the terminology was, but he didn’t want to think about it, because he didn’t want to see himself any more a victim than the legal system had made him.
Logically, he knew he should’ve tried to find a therapist. Probably not in town, but in Mercer. Someone who he wouldn’t have to see every time he went to get groceries. He just wasn’t ready for it, at least not yet. There were still too many things he needed to figure out for himself and get used to existing in his past and in his psyche before he could talk about it all with a stranger.
Maybe some of it was also pride. His dad had been a strict but fair man, someone unshakable, who had always bottled up the negative and dealt with it somewhere outside the house. It had been a point of pride in Ikaika Stone’s life not to take his problems to anyone, but instead solving them himself.
Makai knew better. He just needed more
time.
He rolled over again, pushing his hair behind his ear and sighed. Sleeping wasn’t going to happen, it seemed. He wondered if he should just find a book, when he heard a funny sound.
He peered around in the dim light that came from the cracked open bathroom door and listened.
“Mouse? Is that you?” he asked finally, hearing the sound again.
The cat had abandoned him during his tossing and turning at some point, but now she wobbled into the beam of light and mewed at him.
“Are the babies coming?” he asked, because by now he knew all the different noises that came out of her, whether it be content purring or different vocalizations when she expressed hunger or that her litterbox needed cleaning.
She turned around and walked out of the bedroom. Frowning, Makai pushed his covers aside and got up, an inexplicable feeling making him walk carefully and quietly through the little cottage.
He found her waiting for him in the middle of the living room. She stood there until he put on the lights. As he watched, a tremor went through her round figure.
“Yeah, I think that was a contraction, girl,” Makai murmured.
She meowed quietly, then wobbled to the corner of the room and peered at him again. She vanished—with some trouble as there wasn’t much of a gap—behind the armchair Makai had brought home from a flea market on his trip to Mercer the other day.
She was nesting. He gently pulled the chair from the corner just a bit and moved it so that she had privacy but also more room.
“I think you’ll need a cardboard box for this, lady. Maybe after the kittens are here, we’ll move you. What are you lying on?” He knelt as close as he could get.
She’d somehow managed to drag a T-shirt of his into the corner, and now rested on it, huge belly moving with her labored breathing.
“Oh, sweetheart.” Makai reached a hand into her corner to pet her.
She purred at him, looking like it was just fine to lie in a corner, on a ratty piece of fabric, because it had his scent on it.