Heart's Home

by E. Davies

  “Hmm. One man living here – or his guests, of course... keeping the rest of these three acres intact as a habitat for local wildlife... or a chunky little condo building with a couple dozen stuck-up assholes who think this is a country retreat and trample up and down my staircase to peek at the mansions?” It wasn't his staircase, but in his mind, it sort of was.

  “You'll change your mind,” Charlie told him. It sounded like a threat.

  “Get off our land,” Logan said, his voice quiet but strong as he spoke up for the first time.

  Charlie scoffed. “I'll see you at the party when you come to your senses. And by the way, dress nicely for once,” he added to Logan. “His precious dad is gonna be there.”

  Logan's eyes widened as he glanced at Hunter.

  News to me, too.

  It was common for Hunter's father to fly into and out of town for different events, but he hadn't known his father would be attending this party. Why hadn't he told Hunter he'd be in?

  Charlie gave a nasty, self-satisfied smirk as he saw that he'd surprised them both. “See you lovebirds soon,” he fluttered his fingers in a wave and strode back towards the road.

  “Don't let a coyote eat you on the way,” Logan muttered.

  Even the surprise humor of the line didn't crack through Hunter's sudden reverie. What was his father doing there, if it wasn't business he could be conducting instead? Had Charlie invited him? Was he trying to supervise Hunter more closely now?

  Logan avoided his gaze. “Come on. Let's get some straw bales moved.”

  They were quiet as they worked. All Hunter thought about was the threat he'd heard in Charlie's voice.

  You'll change your mind.

  Not about Logan. Surely not.

  Chapter 14

  Logan

  They worked together to move bales of straw from their resting place to the designated cob mixing spot. The sun beat down on them as Logan and Hunter gathered sand and prepared the clearing to mix cob for the floor that weekend.

  The floor had to be covered, dried, painted with oil and solvent -- and that was before they could put the walls in place.

  They tried their best to pretend Charlie hadn't just dropped a bombshell on them. Hunter didn't seem to care that he was still in expensive clothes as they hefted the straw between the two of them and carefully stacked the bales.

  “That's it for now,” Logan concluded once they spread out a tarp and fetched shovels, which they would need for the clay. He leaned against the bales, trying desperately to drag his mind away from the threat on the horizon.

  “This... seems like a lot of cob,” Hunter frowned at the straw bales. “I thought it would be less.”

  “That's all we need for the floor and walls. We'll be bringing more bales in to serve as the insulated wall.”

  “Straw walls?”

  “Don't,” Logan laughed, expecting another “three little pigs” comment.

  Hunter winked. “Right. So, the walls won't be up this weekend...”

  Logan laughed. “No.”

  Hunter eyed Logan, rolling up his shirt sleeves. “Is it going to be messy?”

  “Yeah, probably.”

  “Will you have enough sand?”

  “I hope so. Otherwise, I have a friend with a big property and lots to spare.”

  Hunter shook his head. “Does that mean you're taking a break today?”

  “I am now. I'm going to start cobbing on my own while you're back in London. This weekend we'll have a massive cobbing party. That's what I'm teaching the workshop on.”

  “Oh. The workshop. Right.” Hunter glanced up the slope towards his house.

  Logan chuckled. “Don't worry, we'll be polite and quiet neighbors,” he teased. “No open-pit barbecues and fireworks. Just hard work. Are you coming?”

  “I might,” Hunter grinned. “But what day is it? The party's Saturday...”

  Logan's heart sank. Fuck. The party... That brought his mind right back to Charlie and whatever he was planning to do to them, and to him. “Um, we're cobbing on Sunday.”

  “Right.” Hunter gazed around awkwardly for a few more moments, then looked up at his house again. “Want to go get changed and freshened up? For the date?”

  “Yes, please.”

  Logan was glad to follow Hunter out of the woods and up the now-familiar staircase, through the side entrance, and into the mansion for a shower together in the spa-like bathroom. They were both too worn out and hungry from the stress of the inspection plus their brief work session to initiate anything more than some playful shoulder-bumping in the shower.

  The fact that Hunter had a closet of clothes that he waved a hand at and said, “Go nuts,” didn't surprise Logan. Most of them were clearly high-end, tailored, or unique items.

  Logan finally chose the plainest outfit he found – a blue checked collared shirt and light blue trousers that were almost the color of jeans. The plaid shirt Hunter had worn to the farm was gone, unfortunately.

  “Oh, that looks good on you,” Hunter approved when he emerged into the extravagant bedroom once more. “Great choice.”

  “There wasn't much of a choice,” Logan answered. “Most of your closet wouldn't suit me at all. Silk? Really?”

  “Silk retains heat in cold weather and keeps you cool in hot weather. It's also a long-lasting garment, making it...” Hunter smirked as he finished, “environmentally responsible.”

  “Well...” Logan hardly knew what to say to that. “Cotton's still in.”

  Hunter laughed, but he took Logan by the hand and led him from the bedroom down to the foyer. “Let's head out to eat before we take this out on each other.”

  Let's face it. He's never going to want to come out to the world for my sake. If we're going to go out, we'll go out with a bang.

  “We could take it out on each other in a good way,” Logan suggested, his voice low as he met Hunter's eyes.

  Hunter visibly shivered. “Behave, you,” Hunter scolded. “I'm trying to romance you.”

  The sadness in Logan's chest grew, his stomach twisting as he remembered Charlie's words. With Hunter gone all week on business in London, they had tonight and Saturday to enjoy each other's company. God only knew what would happen to them after that.

  Or to his house, still only half-done. That contract... it could be voided, with enough legalese. Specifically, with Charlie's legalese.

  And that wasn't counting what it would do to him if Hunter decided to just... get bored of him. Logan wasn't going to let anyone use him just to feel important.

  He'd enjoy what Hunter wanted to give him: romance, the high life, a taste of luxury and status. On Monday, he hoped the fire would blow over. He'd be back to this little clay and straw house if all went well, and back to his crappy apartment in town if it didn't.

  Single.

  Not that he wasn't single now.

  He climbed into the car after Hunter, watching Hunter drive them to the restaurant. Make it a sweet night.

  ***

  “This is way too fancy,” Logan whispered, his eyes wide as he was led into a spacious restaurant that looked huge enough to hold ballroom dances. The tables were at least ten feet apart in all directions, each lavishly draped with linen tablecloths.

  The tables each had a dizzying array of silverware and crystal glasses that sparkled in the light of the candles arranged on each table.

  Conversation was in murmurs, and the waiters moved stealthily with great grace between the tables. Everyone else here had white, grey, or no hair. The gentlemen wore their best suits and ladies had pearls around their throats. Piano music played softly in the background, or so he thought until he glanced to the corner, where a piano sat with an elegant young woman playing it.

  “It's nothing,” Hunter disagreed. “This is the only place available on such short notice.”

  Logan resisted the urge to laugh in his face. It was far more upscale than the classiest place he'd ever been to, a steakhouse his parents had taken him to afte
r his graduation ceremony. He wasn't going to fit in here.

  He nervously touched his shirt, but Hunter smiled. “You're wearing classic timeless pieces. You're fine. I wouldn't have let you come here otherwise.”

  Instead of annoying him or sounding overbearing and snobbish, the words were a welcome relief. By now, Logan trusted Hunter to tell him when he'd make a fool of himself.

  They were seated at a small table for two and handed menus.

  Oh, you're kidding, Logan thought when he flipped open the menu and found only descriptions with no prices. He'd read about these kinds of places, but he hadn't known they existed these days. “I get the women's menu?”

  “Don't be sexist,” Hunter smirked slightly at him, his eyes glinting with amusement at the reaction. “You get the guest menu.”

  Annoyance bubbled in Logan's chest as he glanced around. Yeah, right.

  Hunter rubbed his lips with two fingers and glanced to one side, drawing Logan's gaze to a table to one side. “She's a multimillionaire who started her own tech company in the forties. I'd say she's treating her new husband to this meal.”

  Logan did a double-take before quickly glancing back to Hunter, hoping he hadn't been rude. “Oh.”

  “Men are just more prominently rich,” Hunter told him, idly flipping through the menu and reading it like he already knew it by heart. “A lot of older women inherited money or managed to break barriers here. We were pretty tolerant of women at work forty or fifty years ago, before even New York City or Hollywood started to accept it. And there are young women starting companies all the time now, too.”

  For a moment, Logan felt guilty. “I didn't know,” he murmured.

  “To be fair, most of us started out with rich white families, too,” Hunter chuckled, his voice still quiet to match the atmosphere but still carrying his authoritative, self-assured quality. “What you do... levels the playing field a little in some ways.”

  Logan nodded. “So you don't disagree with me.”

  “A lot of the time, no,” Hunter shrugged. “It's like being in a bubble – everyone asks you what they can do for you, so when people need things from you... well, it seems like an inconvenience. You have smart opinions, though.”

  “Huh.” Logan gazed at Hunter for a few moments before looking at his menu, trying to interpret the items. Most of the ingredients were named in other languages or were just plain unfamiliar to him. He knew most of what went into the honey-glazed pork, at least, so he settled on that for a main course.

  “Surprised?”

  “I figured you weren't a bigot, exactly, but...” Logan trailed off.

  Hunter nodded. “I know who you're talking about. Most of the people I know. Say no more.” He flicked his eyes around the room as if to indicate it would be wiser not to diss a bunch of spoiled rich people while sitting amongst them.

  Most of the people here, too, then. “Right...”

  They were quiet for a minute before the waiter appeared at their elbows. “May I take your orders, gentlemen?”

  They ordered food, and Hunter asked for a bottle of wine. Once the waiter left, Hunter settled back. “You don't have to look so out of place. It's all right to enjoy the finer things sometimes. You're employing the people who are cooking, serving, cleaning, harvesting the food you eat... and this place has ethical sourcing in place.”

  Logan shook his head slightly. He couldn't explain his intense discomfort, except that he didn't... feel worthy of it? Odd, because before, he would have said it was because he felt like the money was better spent elsewhere. “I just...”

  “Everyone reacts like this when I take them out,” Hunter murmured.

  Logan frowned, leaning forward slightly to listen closely.

  “I've... dated before,” Hunter carefully said. “In my last relationship, both of us were... well, it's difficult to be on equal standing with me, but you get the gist.”

  Charlie being a developer, especially with the way he acted like he was pulling favors with everyone, Logan knew he had to have a lot of money. “I don't think there's a big difference once you get to 'can live the rest of your life comfortably without working' levels,” he pointed out.

  Hunter chuckled. “Right. Well, even so, eating like this every day, being treated so differently all the time, was overwhelming. And when I've taken out other people, those I'm less interested in, they act over-the-top about it, and that's not attractive either.”

  “So you like that I feel like the black sheep here?” Logan muttered.

  Hunter laughed gently. “No. I'm just saying... you're...” he trailed off, his eyes meeting Logan's. The waiter arrived next to them.

  Hunter's gaze lingered on Logan for a moment before he looked at the wine being poured to taste and approve of it.

  Logan's heart was still racing. He wasn't sure he was prepared for what he might hear next. For three weeks now, since the first night they'd met, he'd been desperately trying to avoid hearing it, but...

  Now that he was certain he couldn't have Hunter in the long run, his heart was telling him to let Hunter in.

  Fate was cruel.

  Logan quietly accepted and clinked his wine glass against Hunter's, sipping the expensive wine and trying to process the complicated notes on his palate.

  Hunter didn't bring up whatever he'd been about to say, shifting the conversation to more polite topics like the history of the restaurant and some details about his upcoming London trip. Logan wished Hunter understood how much he wished he weren't flying abroad again. They only had these few precious days before it all ended on Saturday.

  He couldn't let Hunter embarrass himself and ruin this entire life he had – the life he'd been born into and lived like an expert and enjoyed – for one man who didn't even like to be served wine on bended knee.

  This had to be their last date.

  If – and this was a big if – he managed to keep the house, he'd figure out how to shoo off the billionaire. He was sure there were other hot, smart young eco-activists who would be happy to have the ear (and more) of a powerful figure. Hunter could be distracted with one of them.

  Eventually, it would work and he'd stop coming down the staircase, and Logan would live his cozy, back-to-the-earth life a few thousand feet away from this beautiful, passionate man he wanted to find out so much more about.

  He told himself again: This has to be it.

  The food was delicious, the wine made him slightly tipsy and made it easier to smile and chat about idle topics while devising creative ways to flip Charlie off if he ever saw him skulking triumphantly around the property again.

  Charlie or not, Logan knew something would have come up eventually. Some couples weren't meant to be.

  He wished the word couple didn't make his chest ache.

  When Hunter finally drove him home, the moment he'd been preparing himself for hours to handle arrived. Before opening the car door, he unbuckled and turned towards the gorgeous man who was reaching out to take his hand. Hunter looked perfectly relaxed, like he was ready to see him again tomorrow.

  “I'll be flying out first thing tomorrow, but I should be back on Saturday in good time for the party,” Hunter told him with a smile, raising his hand for a playful kiss on the back of it. Those lips were warm and gentle, and Logan's gut twisted again as he remembered the first time he'd felt the soft skin on his own.

  “Okay,” Logan whispered. “Call me beforehand just to make sure.”

  “Of course.”

  I'll unplug the phone.

  It's a harsh way to break up, but... I can't tell him to his face.

  “Okay,” Logan whispered, then glanced at the apartment building and back to Hunter. Surely it couldn't hurt to have one last fling, right?

  Something flickered in Hunter's eyes. He must have noticed Logan looking a little out of it. “What is it?”

  “Well... I have coffee...”

  Hunter shook his head with a grin. “Let me romance you just this once, Logan. Please.”
/>   Logan swallowed hard. If only you knew. “You just did.”

  “You deserve more than a hot night and breakfast,” Hunter told him quietly, his eyes so sincere it made Logan's toes curl with guilt. “You always have, but you never let me take this much liberty.”

  Instantly, Logan looked away at the car door and shook his head, sliding out. “All right,” he murmured.

  “Logan.”

  As Logan slipped out of the car and stood on the sidewalk, he bent over to see what Hunter had to say.

  Hunter caught his breath for a moment as he watched him, but thank God, he didn't say the words Logan dreaded. Instead, he just smiled. “Good luck this week. I'll be back to help you this weekend.”

  Logan nodded. “Good night. Have fun in London.” He stepped back and closed the car door, striding into the apartment.

  He hardly made it into the apartment before he leaned heavily on the wall, then slid down to sit on the carpet without even taking off his shoes.

  I can't go through with this. I can't.

  The man he'd told himself he would never fall for, the man he'd tried to lure into liking him enough to give up just a bit of his wealth, now wanted to give him so much more than he deserved. He was seriously considering giving up far more for his sake.

  If Hunter came out to his parents, he would lose something Logan could never replace for him.

  It was never supposed to have gotten this far, but Hunter had fucking charmed his way into his life before Logan had even known it, and now...

  With the triple threat of Charlie, Hunter's parents, and the zoning council on the horizon, Logan didn't know what he had left.

  Except his best friend.

  He closed his eyes, pulling his phone out of his pocket and dialing Juan's number without even looking at the keys under his fingers.

  “Juan?”

  His friend's voice was sudden and sharp. “Logan? What's wrong?”

  “I don't... I can't explain.”

  “I'll be there in twenty minutes. Are you okay?”

  “I will be.” Logan had to believe it.