“I’m sorry, Simon, but that sounds like one of the most ridiculous accusations I’ve ever heard about Tate. He might be a thoughtless workaholic, but two-timing? Are you serious? That’s not him. He’s not the kind of guy who does something like that.”
“Hamish claimed that he knows people who’ve seen it.”
Penny stared into my eyes in the dim light. “Do you think he’s a reliable source?”
“No, not really, but I’ve never caught Hamish in an outright lie. I wanted to confront him about it, but I can’t afford to have him take the money away.”
“Did you ask Tate about it?”
I sighed. “That’s the hard one.”
“It shouldn’t be.”
It was only three words, but they amounted to possibly the smartest thing Penny ever said to me. She was right. It shouldn’t be hard to talk to Tate about—anything. That’s how my moms made their relationship work so well. If we were going to build a permanent life together, we had to confront everything that came up. And neither of us should brood about it avoiding the other.
Suddenly, I felt like I’d grown a steely backbone that didn’t exist before. I stood up straighter, handed Penny my beer bottle, and said, “I’m going to talk to him right now.”
Penny grinned from ear to ear. “You go get your man, Simon.”
As I picked my way through the crowd, another thought crossed my mind. I hoped that Tate wasn’t intoxicated enough to make a productive conversation impossible. He rarely ever got drunk, but if he was in a bad mood for some reason, it was possible that he would try to self-medicate.
My worries dissipated quickly. Tate was holding an empty beer bottle by the neck, and he smiled as I approached. I asked, “Why are you standing here alone like a wallflower? There’s a party going on.”
“Maybe I was waiting for you.”
I asked, “Can we step outside for a minute?”
“We can leave for the rest of the evening as far as I’m concerned.”
We were on the same page, but I had a commitment to a bar still nearly full of guests wishing me well. “I understand, but I don’t think I can do that quite yet. Still, I need to talk to you about something.”
“I was about to say the same.”
Feeling better already, I followed Tate out the front door of the bar, and Penny flashed a thumbs up at me as we walked past her.
As we stepped to the side of the entrance, Tate rocked back and forth on his feet. I decided that I could save my question, and we both said, “You go first,” simultaneously.
Like two bumper cars in a series of collisions, we each tried to start and interrupted each other again. I waved my hand, signaled zipping my lips, and listened.
Tate rubbed his chin, and he pushed his glasses back up his nose with his index finger. They were perfectly placed, so they didn’t budge when he executed the nervous action. Finally, he spoke. “Okay, I don’t whether to…” I watched him interrupt himself. “No, I’m just going to ask the question.”
With a nod, I encouraged him. “Yes, please ask.”
“Did you kiss Hamish? I mean, if you did while we weren’t together, that’s none of my business, but did you kiss him a few days ago?”
I sighed. I knew that I should have told Tate immediately after it happened. Not telling him risked looking like I was hiding something. “No, I wouldn’t call it that. He kissed me, and it was shocking. I didn’t know what to do.”
“On the cheek?”
“No, on the lips, and I should have told you right away. I’m sorry that I didn’t, but that’s all it was. I guarantee it. That night you went to Sagebrush and then worked late, Hamish asked me out for a drink to celebrate a new investor, and at one point he leaned across the table, and before I knew it…”
“Damn, that sounds like him. So you’re sure it didn’t mean anything?”
“Oh, God, no. Tate, honestly, if I wanted to be with Hamish, I had plenty of time after we broke up. It never happened. In fact, and don’t tell him this, please, but I find him kind of revolting.”
Tate laughed. I was happy to hear the happy sounds rumbling out of his mouth.
“Why don’t you just cut him loose?”
“Money, and I’m fucking ashamed to admit that. I turned down financing from my moms for this reason.”
Tate raised an eyebrow. “Because they would kiss you.”
I reached out and gave his chest a playful shove. “No, and you know better than that. I turned them down because I didn’t want to feel obligated. I was already in debt to them for letting me move home.”
“I know. I’m teasing.” A moment of silence passed between us before Tate spoke again. “And you had a question for me?”
“Yeah, but I’m pretty sure I know the answer already, and now I know why you were sulking in the corner.”
“Sulking? I thought I was resting and observing.”
“No, you were sulking. I’ve seen it before, but let’s not argue about that.”
Tate laughed again. “Okay, ask your question so we have something different to argue about.”
“Okay, fuck, I know I’ve asked it before, but I have to ask it again to make sure. Are you dating Ted? Are you into Ted? I mean, you invited him to my birthday party, and…”
Tate cut me off. “Hamish?”
I looked down. “Yeah.”
Tate reached out for my chin and lifted my head. “Here’s the reason for inviting Ted. You know that we dated a few times long ago, and that has nothing to do with it. Ted just found out that the boyfriend he was dating way back when you and I were together is getting married. Think about that for a moment. How would you feel if I’d moved back to California, and you found out tonight that I was getting married?”
“Pretty damn lousy.” It also felt pretty good that Tate risked asking me about the hypothetical situation.
“I’m happy to hear that. I realized as I asked it you could have said something like, ‘Oh, it’s not so bad.’”
We both laughed, and then we hugged, and that turned into a kiss. Tate whispered, “I love you so fucking much. Happy birthday, cowboy.”
I reached up and wiped a tear from the corner of my eye. “I thought of one more question that I want to ask.”
“Do you want permission to poison Hamish’s next cocktail?”
I chuckled. “No, but that isn’t such a bad idea.”
Tate continued to hold me tight in his arms, and our faces were only inches apart. I knew that the question was still a little impulsive, but I decided to ask it anyway.
“Does the invitation to move into your apartment still stand? I’m close to signing a lease to move out of my moms’ place, and I need to know.”
23
Tate
“Now comes the fun part,” said Simon.
“I’m not sure moving has fun parts. Packing up and then cringing every time the movers banged one of the chairs against the wall on the way up didn’t make me smile. If you’ve got something in mind that will cheer me up, I’d like to hear it.”
After Simon first suggested moving into my apartment, we discussed looking for a new place. That way it could be ours instead of mine with Simon moving his stuff back in. It was the perfect way to symbolize a fresh start. We agreed that a new apartment would let us sweep away any past ghosts and demons that still resided in the walls.
With his arms folded over his chest as he stood in front of the bank of living room windows, Simon said, “The fun part is figuring out where everything goes and arranging the furniture.”
“Maybe you’re right about that. I think it will be fun watching you do it. Go right ahead. Indulge!”
Simon chuckled, and I moved some of the boxes off the sofa onto the floor before sitting down. I pushed myself into a corner and leaned back to watch the show.
Simon pointed toward the dining room and said, “I think we should get some French bistro posters to decorate the walls in the dining room. I don’t mean the cheap ones. Maybe
we can find something authentic at an antique store.”
It was nearly a month after Simon’s birthday, and the weeks went by in a flash. We both knew that we had to get Hamish out of our lives. It was one of our primary goals. Having it happen soon wasn’t quick enough. He was like a festering sore that was likely to flare up time and time again if we didn’t figure out a way to heal the gap that let him into Simon’s life.
The night before Simon planned to speak with Hamish about ending their collaboration, I pulled out Bentley Greene’s cap gun. A look of wonder and joy appeared on Simon’s face as we held the gun together between us. I said, “It really works. Just wait until you talk to him tomorrow.”
I’d never seen Simon look more confident and happy than he did the next morning. We had the wind at our backs. My parents and Simon’s moms agreed to collaborate in providing the foundational funding for his design business.
Hamish didn’t go easily. He did like Simon, and we both understood that he’d spent years trying to turn their relationship into a romantic one. Hamish practically begged Simon to stay in the agreement.
Fortunately, Simon wasn’t moved by any of Hamish’s pleas. He said that he told Hamish, “Honestly, I think now is the time to leave before you humiliate yourself.”
As I let my thoughts return to the present, I listened to Simon’s comments about decorating. He said, “I can’t wait for your cowboy sculpture’s chance to meet The Captain again. What room will that be?”
“Oh, that’s a tough one. We’ve both got offices now.”
Simon smirked and said, “We could put them both in the bedroom.”
“No, you’re the only man who gets to live in the bedroom with me.”
I watched Simon eye a stack of boxes near the window. My eyes opened wider when I suddenly recognized the box on the top of the stack. It was clearly labeled, “Tate’s Office,” but the movers carelessly left it in the living room.
Simon asked, “Is this what it says it is or is that an old label from moving into your place? Let me check.”
I started to rise from the couch. “Hey, cowboy, why don’t you come over here and cuddle with me. I think we’ve had enough of moving for the day. It’s time to relax and recover.”
“But I was curious.” Simon looked at the box and then he looked at me. I reached my arms out in his direction. “Okay, yeah, you’re not making it a fair choice.”
As Simon stepped toward the sofa, I breathed a sigh of relief. Our new apartment had three bedrooms, offices for each of us, with either of them easily converted to a guest room, and the room with our bed for sleeping and other fun activities. The box labeled, “Tate’s Office,” held the smaller box containing Simon’s engagement ring.
I considered falling to one knee and asking Simon to marry me upon moving back in together. That was before Mason and Kyle called us with invitations to a family Thanksgiving gathering at The Hideaway. They also invited Simon’s moms. I decided to wait to ask Simon to marry me with both families gathered around.
When he got close, I pulled Simon down onto the sofa. He lost his balance and stumbled landing with his back right on top of me.
I wrapped my arms around him as he exclaimed, “Hey, whoa! Sheesh, take it easy there.”
I laughed. “Are you that fragile? I don’t think I’ll break you.”
“Well, no, I guess not.” Simon turned over to face me. He snuggled up against my chest and kissed my lips.
I said, “I feel like we’re both moving forward and rewinding the clock. This brings back the memories of how thrilled and excited I was when you first moved in with me.”
“But I’m more confident this time around. I wasn’t unsure about living with you before, but I did wonder whether it could last. It all seemed too good to be true.”
“And now?”
“Now I know it’s right and the only way we can move forward. We’ve got a lot more tools in the belt to deal with issues that come up. I think we figured out how to talk.”
I said, “It’s a nice addition to knowing how to kiss.”
I brushed my lips against Simon’s with a feather-light touch. The sensation always excited him. I yelped when he slipped a hand between my legs weighing my package.
“Yeah, I’m rock hard. It’s not just my brain that’s excited about this.”
Simon grinned. “Mine either. Unfortunately, there’s no bed set up yet. Remember, they had to take it all apart to move it. We’ve got a pile of rails and slats with a headboard in the bedroom.”
“Then we’ll just need to have our fun right here.”
Before I could consider whether I wanted to stop him and put the bed together first, Simon was already unbuckling my belt. I gasped, “Wow, you can’t wait. I think I like that.”
“Well, we’ve been too exhausted from packing for three nights in a row to do anything other than kiss before falling asleep. I needed to be proactive today.”
Simon pushed a hand up under my t-shirt, and the fingertips found a nipple. It was already hard, too. I rolled my head back and closed my eyes when he gently rubbed the tip between his thumb and forefinger.
Simon whispered, “I know you’re probably hungry, and so am I, but I get the appetizer before dinner.”
I chuckled softly. “And I have to go hungry? Don’t you want to get off?”
“I can wait, but you can’t. I decided that about five minutes ago.”
Simon gripped my open jeans and gave them a firm tug until they slipped down off my ass. It was all kinds of awkward on the sofa in a room full of stacked boxes in various sizes with no blinds or curtains on the window. Fortunately, that was part of what made it so damned sexy.
We kissed on the lips again before Simon slid down between my legs and kicked a box into the floor that rested on the far end of the couch. As it tumbled end over end onto the floor, I asked, “What if there was something breakable in that?”
“I guess we’ll have to buy new.” Simon eagerly wrapped his lips around the head of my cock, and I gasped.
He pulled the hand down out from under my t-shirt and pushed just hard enough with his fingertip to leave a trail of sensation all the way down to the base of my cock. When his hand reached that point, he wrapped thumb and fingers around my throbbing shaft and began to stroke while he sucked.
I growled, “Damn! I wanted you all of the last three nights. Fuck being tired!”
Simon laughed softly at my comment. The laughter vibrated the cock head in his mouth. Seconds later, he took me to another level of excitement as he slipped his free hand beneath me until he found the tight puckered ring around my hole.
Simon knew how to light the fire, and it was suddenly fanned into open flames searing my body. I reached out and tangled the fingers of my right hand into Simon’s hair. I encouraged his sucking with pressure downward that helped push my cock further toward his throat.
Simon coughed and started to pull off. I knew from earlier conversations that he liked help holding in place until the reflexes subsided. I gripped his hair tighter.
One of the fingers found its way past my ring, and I let out a deep, guttural moan. Simon was aiming for that knob deep inside, and the gentlest of kneading motions always made me lose control. It was like the push button for a nearly instant orgasm.
As Simon started to stroke faster, I pulled back on his hair until my cock popped free of his lips. He looked up at me with a questioning expression on his face.
Using my grip as leverage and saying nothing, I pulled him forward until we kissed. As our tongues tangled, he began stroking faster. It was like a piston working my cock in tandem with the fingertip driving deeper.
We kissed with a fierce hunger. Three days was a long time for us. Loud moans echoed off the bare apartment walls, and I wrapped my arm tight around Simon’s neck. I was close, and I knew that I couldn’t last.
Simon pulled back briefly from the kiss and muttered, “Fuck, come, Tate. I want you to come for me.”
He kissed
hard again, and the fingertip found its goal. I shuddered. I couldn’t hold onto the kiss, and Simon trailed his tongue and lips down to the veins throbbing hard in my neck.
“Ahhh damn! Coming. Ohhh…” My cock erupted shooting ropes of cum all over our clothes and the sofa. Simon was so hungry and insistent that we were both still nearly fully dressed. I hugged him tight as the waves of orgasm finally started to fade from my body.
Simon looked into my eyes while I gasped for breath. “You are so fucking sexy like this. I’ll never ever get tired of it.”
“Please please please don’t. Oh, my God. You make me nuts, Simon. I’m yours. You’re mine, and I’m blubbering like a fool.”
He kissed me hard as I caught my breath. The world was finally spinning at the correct angle again, and I planned to keep it that way forever.
24
Simon
I rode up to The Hideaway ski resort in an SUV with Tate and my two moms. Mason Matheson met us at the airport and narrated the 45-minute trip. He talked about his life growing up in L.A. with Tate and how he learned to love the mountains when he fell for his boyhood friend, Kyle Greene, a former Olympic skier who owned The Hideaway.
The setting was stunning. It was two days before Thanksgiving, and the mountains already wore a thick blanket of snow. Down in Shady Valley where Mason operated a Matheson and Greene office, some green grass was still visible, but The Hideaway itself was a winter wonderland.
As we arrived at the main lodge, Mason said, “Be ready for a crowd. I think you are the last to arrive. Benji and my parents arrived on separate flights late last night. Everybody else has been here all week.”
As the double doors to the lodge opened, I heard shouts of “Simon!” Next came a round of applause. I felt like a celebrity returning home to a rousing welcome.
Tate whispered, “They love you more than they love me,” and then he laughed.
Most of the faces were familiar, but I’d never met the man who wrapped Mason in a massive hug in greeting. It was his partner, Kyle.
Cowboy: The Mathesons Book 2 Page 16