by Jules Dixon
If this Ollie was Oliver Aston, I needed to face him. His e-mail was encouraging, but even if he wasn’t interested in starting a relationship, at least I might have a friend in Drex and now Breigh, and maybe with time, Oliver. I could still make Omaha home.
Drexel came out and wavered on his feet. “Damn, it feels nice out here. This weather can stick around. Great for selling cars.”
I chuckled at the weather comment, then took in his sunken and darkened eyes. “Must have been a good sleep. You look like you might fall over into a coma.”
He rubbed his face and blew out a long breath. “I crashed, hard. Haven’t been sleeping well at night, guess I needed to refill the sleep tank.” He slapped his hands together and rubbed. “And now I can party all night. Watch out world, here we come.”
We climbed in the truck.
Drexel rubbed his shoulder.
I drove away from his house. “What’s up with the shoulder? I saw the same move at Triple R last night.”
“I threw out my shoulder, had surgery but I haven’t fully recovered yet.”
“Physical therapy?” I pulled onto the main road.
“Six months.”
“Didn’t help?”
“Some, but not enough.” He stared out the passenger window, his body crumpling with every question.
“But you still lifted weights last night?”
“I’ve found ways to manage the pain.”
“Like?”
His head whipped back to me. “Holt, I don’t think you want to know.”
I turned to him as we sat at a stoplight. “Here’s something about me, Drexel. I don’t ask if I don’t want to know.”
The light turned but I didn’t move.
“Um, the light.” Drexel pointed.
“I’ll just sit here until you come clean.”
“There are things that take away the pain, but I don’t want to talk about it today.” His face was wiped of all happiness.
Cars honked in succession behind us.
“Soon, Drexel. I don’t get attached to people quickly, but there’s something about you. I’m not givin’ up.”
I glanced up and the light had turned red again. Looking in the rearview mirror, I witnessed the lady waving all kinds of un-ladylike signs at me. I turned around, gave a double tap on my cowboy hat, and winked at her. Her mouth dropped open, then she smiled and put her offending fingers away.
“Fuck, Holt. If I had half of your moves, I wouldn’t be alone.”
“Why are you alone, Drexel?”
“Long story.” He cracked the window, the cool air filling the cabin in the absence of his continued explanation.
“We have time and I’ll make time.”
He leaned back against the headrest. “The last girl I was interested in overdosed on prescription meds and messed me up before I even really got to know her, before that, I was interested in Willow, Kanyon’s fiancée. And before that I had a thing for Presley, Jude’s woman. I seem to pick the wrong girl and usually at the wrong time.”
“Sorry to hear about you losin’ a friend. I bet there’s a sweet woman out there for you.”
“I’m not taking bets, Holt. I tend to lose.”
Sage and Rahl’s house came into view.
“That’s a nice house,” I noted the obvious.
“Rahl did a lot of the work on it himself, and some with Jude’s help.”
“Thanks for the conversation openers.”
Drexel chuckled. “Anytime. Oh, I see the boy of honor is already here, and I think that’s Ollie’s car. Damn foreign cars. I’m gonna need to talk to Aston about that B.S.”
My Oliver.
My heart galloped in my chest and my body pulsed with something feral that Oliver brought out in me. I needed to get a handle on my emotional reactions. I wasn’t one to break down and cry, but if Oliver started apologizing and making a scene, there was a chance I might. I wanted to hear he was sorry and that he wanted to try again, but with nothing having changed on my side, I was concerned he would still be cautious of my commitment.
Standing outside of my truck, I stared at his car.
Drexel banged his hand on the truck’s hood. “Hey, you coming?”
Exhaling a breath I’d been holding, I walked to the front of the truck. Drexel’s eyebrows narrowed but he shook away whatever he was thinking. We walked into the house. I listened, but didn’t hear Ollie’s voice. I followed Drexel to the kitchen.
“Drexel! Holt!” Sage’s lyrical voice was comforting.
“Good evenin’, Sage.” I took my hat off.
She gave me a hug and I kissed her cheek. “You can wear your hat, Holt. I guarantee no one is going to think you’re not a gentleman or that you have anything but impeccable manners.”
“Thank you.” I shoved the black Stetson back on my head.
“Drexel, nice to see you again.” She hugged him.
“You feelin’ better?” I asked.
“I am, thank you. Had a good night’s sleep. That always helps. The guys are in the basement. Our friend Ollie just snuck out to go get his date. You can meet him later. And Kanyon and Willow have to stay home with their sick daughter.”
I heard nothing after “Ollie” and “date”.
Shit. He’s moved on. I should go.
“Holt, you’ve got to see this basement. Rahl’s made a man cave that makes me want to hibernate here.” Drexel came up behind me and put his hands on my shoulders, pushing me toward a door.
I wanted to make an excuse to leave. I could say there was a problem at the farm.
Can’t. Sage would worry. Could say… No, have to suck it up and be a man, this was a risk coming here without contacting him. Just move on.
I stepped to the side and followed Drexel. He wasn’t wrong. Rahl had decked the basement out. We sat at the twelve-foot long bar and Rahl served up his home-brewed beer. There was conversation about the farm, and we realized we both knew some of the same people from Fort Benning, Georgia, and Marine Corp Base in Quantico, Virginia. Drexel stepped away to talk to Jude.
Rahl dropped his voice. “I think we might have someone else in common, Holt.”
I drained the rest of my first pint of beer, hoping for the depressant effects to kick in, anything to change my heart rate from its current racing speed. “Oliver Aston,” I confirmed.
“He works for me. I figured there was a reason you decided not to tell him you’re in Omaha?”
“Lots of reasons, but none of them seem to make sense right now.”
“I didn’t tell him you’d be here. Honestly, I kind of like the thought of his friends seeing how he reacts when he sees you. Ollie tends to stick his nose in his friends’ lives, but I don’t think any of us would want it any other way. Great guy, Holt.”
Damn, Rahl’s a big romantic at heart.
“Well, the reunion might not go as well as we both probably hoped. Sage says he’s bringin’ a date.”
“Just some girl he met this week at Triple R. Nothing to worry about.” Rahl filled another pint and smirked over his shoulder. “Plus, you brought a date, too.”
I had to laugh. “I think you knew that wasn’t going to turn out to be a real date, right?”
“I could’ve been wrong. Not my business to decide someone’s path. And I’m gonna go out on a limb and say you didn’t really want it to be anyway.”
“Just hedging my bets. Nice to know people when you’re in a new town.”
“I can understand that.” He handed me the filled glass. “Are you okay with seeing Ollie?”
“I am, sir. Actually, I almost can’t wait.”
“That’s good to hear.” Rahl’s eyes travelled behind me.
I could feel in my gut who had his attention.
“Holt Jamison?”
I let his tenor voice settle into me. The wobbled syllables told me he didn’t believe what he was seeing. I smiled and Rahl walked from behind the bar. I could see his reflection in one of the polished silver beer taps.
Rahl lowered his voice to Oliver but I could hear him. “A surprise for you, too, Aston.”
It’s time.
Chapter Eight
Oliver
I’d arrived at Rahl and Sage’s home in the early afternoon. Sage, Presley, and I’d had the food under control in less than an hour. If Willow had been here it would’ve been even less, but Presley relayed that Kanyon and Willow wouldn’t be able to make the party as their daughter was home ill with a stomach bug being passed around the family.
Nothing that Sage needs.
I wasn’t Martha Stewart in the kitchen, but I liked to help friends. Plus, Presley shouldn’t be allowed in a kitchen. She sliced her thumb opening a can of water chestnuts for the spinach dip recipe. I’d bandaged her finger when Sage turned as green as her eyes looking at the tiny red cut.
I’d showered in the guest bathroom. Since Jude boxed me in, I drove Rahl’s truck to Rory’s place. Pulling up to a gate, I waited. Rory hadn’t given me a code. I tagged my phone from the console to text her but the gate opened.
She was standing outside when I made it down the tree-lined lane.
Shit … it’s a fuckin’ mansion. I parked and stepped out to take in the stone monster of a home.
“Hi. I guess selling cars is big business?” I kissed her on the cheek.
“Dad’s done okay, but he’s very clear that none of this is mine, unless I get into the business, and that isn’t going to happen.”
“Rough.” I took her in and sighed. “You look nice. Come on, let’s get going.” The platitude sounded flat and the invitation dismal.
Her eyebrows rose. “Why do I get the feeling I’m only a hood ornament tonight, Oliver?”
I opened the passenger door. “You’re a stunning hood ornament.”
“Oliver, I’m not a show pony.” She turned back toward the house but I moved in front of her.
I swallowed down fear that I was just going to hurt someone else. But this was me. I enjoyed meeting new people and making friends. “Rory, I think we could be friends, if you’d give me a chance to tell you why I’m not the guy you’d even want. Please?”
She crossed her arms.
I continued, “There’ll probably be an eligible bachelor or two at this party, but I’m sorry I’m not one. You said you’d listen to my horror story…” I shoved my hands into my jeans pockets.
Rory exhaled, examining my face, and her huge blue doe-eyes flickered. “These bachelors had better be hot as fuck.”
I laughed and relaxed.
She smirked and stepped up into the truck.
“Well, being a bisexual man, I can fully judge, sweetheart.”
“Good to know, Oliver, but I’ll be the final judge.”
I explained what happened with Holt to Rory on the way to Rahl and Sage’s home for the party. Every word was harder than the one before. I’d made mistakes that I didn’t even know how to apologize for, or if I should because maybe there was no going back.
She grabbed my hand and gave a quick squeeze. “I can tell how much he means to you. This doesn’t sound like a horror story, Oliver, it sounds like a love story. It just doesn’t have the right ending yet.”
I didn’t feel like half the heel I had ten minutes before. Rory joined the girls in the kitchen. Presley recognized her immediately, and unfortunately gave me the thumbs-up behind her back. I decided not to inform her that nothing was going to happen between us. Rory would be a catch for someone, just not me. She’d do the explaining for both of us. Diplomatically.
Sage glanced to me, her eyebrows raised, and I shook my head and she tipped her head in acknowledgement at the reality. Reality was starting to get to me about other things, too.
She waved me away. “The guys are downstairs, Ollie. Rory will be fine here with us. We’ll be right down.”
As I started down to the basement, I paused to open the inbox on my phone, but there weren’t any new e-mails. Disappointed me, but didn’t surprise me. If Holt was on an assignment in Afghanistan, he wouldn’t have Internet, sometimes for weeks at a time.
Shoving the phone back in my pocket, I stepped off the last stair. A familiar black cowboy hat became all I could concentrate on. My body buzzed in a very familiar way, bringing me out of my stare. I flicked my gaze to Rahl, and by his shit-eating grin, my boss had either engineered an epic feat, flying a man halfway around the world, or fate had intervened to show off its awing power.
“Holt Jamison?” I called out, my hands shaking and my heart seizing in my chest.
The room quieted, but he didn’t turn to face me. I didn’t know if it was really him. I might be dreaming. If that was the case, it was a damn good dream.
“A surprise for you, too, Aston,” Rahl said as he passed by.
The barstool turned slowly. A gorgeous mouth was the only thing I could see under the brim of the cowboy hat. “Hey, Oliver, long time—”
I crossed the room before he spoke another word. My body lassoed to his. Avoiding the rim of his cowboy hat, I crashed into him as he stood from the stool. Although I was a little taller than him, my body collapsed against his, and we molded together just as I remembered.
Without hesitating, I bought my lips to his ear. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. Please, Holt…” I could barely breathe. “Please forgive me.”
He cleared his throat. “We’ll talk soon, Aston. Tonight, let’s enjoy Jude’s party.”
I hugged him tighter. I couldn’t move. If he was an apparition, there was too big of a chance he’d be gone if I didn’t hold on.
His rumbling chest heaved. “Ollie, as touching a moment as this is, I think your friends are gettin’ uncomfortable.” He pounded my back and the move brought me back to reality.
It’s him.
I stepped back. “What the hell brings you to Nebraska?”
Holt tipped his head up, and his milk chocolate brown star eyes glinted the basement lighting. “I left the Marines and I’m takin’ care of Sage’s grandparents’ farm outside of town.”
I turned to Sage. “Did you know?”
She stared at me. “Know what? I’m lost.”
That was true. The only person who knew about Holt and me was…
I turned to my left. “That’s why you asked me his name?”
Rahl’s mouth lifted on the side. “I told you not to bring a date, Aston, but that’s okay, Holt kind of brought a date, too.”
I turned back to him. “Who?”
Holt’s eyes fixed on someone across the room. I followed them, feeling my eyebrows descend with every second.
“Drexel?” His name growled from my throat. “What the fuck?” My hands fisted, and I rushed toward him.
Rahl stepped in front of me and shook his head.
“Whoa there, white tiger.” Drexel’s lips slid into an asshole grin. The one he wore about 99 percent of the time. “I am not nor will I ever be—and I’m not judging—gay. Super nice guy, but he’s all yours.”
My jaw hurt from clenching.
“If he wants to be,” he added with a chuckle.
Rahl kept his position between me and Drex. He lowered his voice to a whisper, “You’ve nothing to worry about, except the man who’s moved across the United States … for you.”
“We’ll talk later, Oliver.” Holt had moved behind me and his hand grabbed my shoulder, giving a firm squeeze.
I turned back around, grabbed his hand, and squeezed. “Yes, we will.”
We made small talk and had a couple of drinks. Just to have him in the room made my mind wander even when I was involved in conversation that I’d started. I sat next to Holt at dinner, wanting to touch him, if only to be sure he was real. But I wrung my hands under the table, keeping them to myself.
We’d started our relationship while in the military, in the middle of a conflict overseas, and a conflict between us, too. This was all new territory.
What kind of boyfriend was he when we didn’t have superiors watching our moves? Demonstrativ
e? Quietly affectionate? Or detached? Or something I wouldn’t even imagine?
Back the gay train up, Aston. Not even in a relationship yet.
I stopped my thoughts from continuing down the path. Maybe he wasn’t interested in getting back together? There was a chance he was only here for work.
“Ollie, can you help me in the kitchen?” Rahl asked.
I picked up the dirty cake plates and followed behind Rahl. I was rinsing the plates when Rahl turned off the water.
“I need to talk to you.”
I wiped my hands. “About?”
“I need to tell Sage about Dave.”
“You don’t mean right now, right?”
“Well…”
“No. This is Jude’s night.”
“Ollie, Dave’s got less than a month to live.”
I imagined what that would do to me, to learn my dad was dying. I leaned back against the cabinet. “Damn. That kind of changes things, but can’t you wait until tomorrow?”
“I want you here. She might need you.” Rahl shifted, his hip leaning against the counter, and his eyes dropped to the floor. “I might need you.”
These people had let me be part of their family and the fact the Ogre was admitting he needed someone else, besides Sage, had never happened.
“Let’s wait until Jude and Presley leave. Presley has to work tomorrow, so it won’t be a late night for them.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Rahl ran his hand over his buzz cut and blew out a long breath. His face was ashen, the anxiety lingering. “Let’s get back out there.”
It was only another hour before Presley looked to Jude and motioned toward the door. “Sorry guys, I have to work tomorrow morning.”
“I heard you’re having a good week,” Holt mentioned, standing to clear the water glasses from the table.
“Not bad.” Presley smiled at Drexel. She and Jude gave their good-byes and Sage and Rahl walked them out.
Drexel and Rory cleaned up the kitchen while I helped Holt with the basement. After five minutes of trying to find the right remote to turn off the huge projection TV, we gave up. It would be fine and there were bigger problems to deal with than a burnt-out projector bulb.
Like that.
Every time Holt would brush by me, the scent of new cologne, dripping with amber and woods, both sandalwood and balsam, intermingled with earth and virile man and filled my nose. The mix made my heart speed up in a way that brought back memories of that first night we’d spent together.