by E M Lindsey
“I’ve been—” Lorenzo started to defend, then he scowled and went back to his work.
“Busy?”
Wilder laughed when Lorenzo glared at his computer screen, and since it looked like this was going to take a minute, he moved to the sink and began to organize the dishes. It was small and cramped, but he made space and got everything rotting shoved into the disposal, flicking it on and feeling as the vibrations under his fingers stuttered, then smoothed out as it all went down the drain. He rinsed everything and stacked it, and when he looked back up, Lorenzo was staring at him with something like mortification on his face.
‘I know how to wash dishes,’ Lorenzo signed.
‘Good.’ Wilder rinsed his hands, then swiped them on a dish towel before approaching the other man. “You can wash them when you get home. We should head out, Collin’s waiting for us.” He took a quick look at Lorenzo’s outfit—jeans that probably cost more than his monthly rent, and a t-shirt that was thin enough to show his nipples, but probably on purpose. It wasn’t the best for being outside, but as long as he was wearing sun block, it would do. He led the way to the door, then waited on the top step as Lorenzo locked up.
“What are we doing out there?” he asked as Wilder headed out the front door and to his car.
“I don’t know. I told Collin you were looking to get your hands dirty, so he said he had plenty of things that’ll mess up your pretty nails.”
Lorenzo glared again as he got in the passenger seat and slammed the door. “I’m not going to be ashamed for the things I like.”
At that, Wilder flushed, because he hadn’t meant it to be cruel. His friends all had a sharp sense of humor, and nothing was sacred. It was just too easy to forget that Lorenzo hadn’t built up defenses against them. When people attacked Lorenzo—even under the guise of humor, Wilder was pretty sure they meant every word.
“Have you had one of Jayden’s manicures yet?”
Lorenzo glanced at him like he wasn’t sure Wilder was being serious or not, and there was something impossibly young in the line of his face, even if he was older. He wasn’t stunted—at least, Wilder didn’t think he was. More like he’d spent a lot of his life lost in the shadow of siblings, from above and below.
“I haven’t done one in forever,” he went on when it was obvious Lorenzo wasn’t going to answer him. “Last year my kitchen caught fire, and he gave me one for free as a way to help me de-stress.”
Lorenzo’s eyes widened. “Your kitchen caught fire?”
Wilder laughed, speeding up as they hit the open mountain road. “Yeah—wiring issue. Destroyed my kitchen in the bakery, and then ate away at some of the flooring upstairs. It took forever to get the paperwork done and pushed through, so I’m still waiting on contractors to work on my upstairs. They have to knock out two walls to get it done.” Wilder bit his lip, then sighed. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings before. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that type of self-care.”
“Girlie shit?” Lorenzo shot back.
Wilder blinked. “Did you say girlie shit?”
“I’ve heard it before,” Lorenzo said with a huff.
Wilder shook his head. “That isn’t what I meant. Jesus, you’re defensive.” He felt his own hackles rising, so he fell silent, and out of the corner of his eye, watched Lorenzo wrap his arms around his middle and turn his gaze out the window.
For the first time since seeing the sorry man sitting on that bus bench, he wondered if maybe he should have just let him get the damn ticket and go. There was so much going on in his head, so much he obviously couldn’t explain. Wilder had never considered a life of privilege could be a prison for someone—but clearly Lorenzo had suffered something.
He knew all too well what it was like to feel undervalued in your own world. He was a commodity, a tool to his mother and nothing else. He’d ceased being a child to her and existed as a communication device. He’d seen the horror and pity on other Deaf parents’ faces when he told him what growing up with her was like—but it only served to remind him that he had the short end of the stick. His father loved him, but he never stood up to his mother. His sister loved him, but only quietly where she wouldn’t be encouraged to step on Wilder’s back to achieve her own goals.
His therapist called it abuse, but the word still felt wrong on his tongue. He didn’t know if it was because she was his mother or if it was because he believed he should be stronger than her sharp words, but it was a weak spot he’d probably always have.
Even this many years later, and these many miles away, her grip on him had never fully let go.
And it was obvious Lorenzo understood that—in some way. But he was only just now trying to find out who he was in all that mess, and Wilder wasn’t sure anyone in Cherry Creek was strong enough to help him through it.
He made the turn up the ranch drive, the road a little rough, but Max had been good about keeping it graded in the summer. Collin had bought a couple of horses and was offering riding lessons to some of the seasonal tourists in addition to the goat milk products he had set up in a little market stand right at the edge of his paddock.
It was never busy, but it was always open if someone need a get-away, and there was no better place to start than there.
“So, you know these guys?” Lorenzo asked, his voice deep and rumbling in the silence between them.
Wilder’s hearing hadn’t fully come back since his vertigo attack, but he could make out most of his words there in the car. “We’ll be hanging out with Collin today, but his husbands might be around. Or well, Spencer might be.”
“Husbands?” Lorenzo asked.
Wilder didn’t think there was judgment in his tone, so he shrugged. “I mean, not legally, but yes. Spencer has the little cat café and shelter in town, and Max has a mechanic shop about a mile up the road.” He pulled up next to Collin’s truck and put the car in park. “Collin is sort of…he just does whatever strikes his fancy.”
“Sounds familiar,” Lorenzo said, but he didn’t sound happy about it.
“Not what you were looking for?”
“I wanted to find some sort of direction. And I know that makes me sound like some middle-aged white woman in some Venetian villa after her second divorce, okay?”
Wilder’s lips twitched. “Okay.”
“But I actually am…” He stopped and let out a frustrated growl, dragging hands through his hair and disordering it with all the product. He looked wild and a little terrified, and somehow it made him even more attractive, which sent Wilder’s stomach into a spin. “I don’t think I’m going to find that missing piece of me on a fucking goat farm. I just wanted to meet some people and find out how they managed it.”
At that, Wilder softened entirely. It was the first time Lorenzo said anything that made sense, the first time he spoke with real substance. “The fact that Collin does whatever he wants doesn’t mean he spent his life like you. I don’t know him that well, but we’ve spent some time together, and I know he used to be a college professor before his husband left him. Then his dad died, and he inherited this piece of a preserve a couple hours from here where he herded goats and did rafting tours.”
“And then he got married to two men and bought a ranch in Cherry Creek?” Lorenzo asked, only slightly mocking.
“Something like that. I think Collin does whatever he wants because his life has meaning outside of traditional work.”
Lorenzo sighed and ran his fingers through his hair again, this time putting it flatter. He had that effortless bedhead look of a man years younger than he was, and Wilder wondered if there was any real, lived life inside him.
“I don’t know if I want that.”
Wilder laughed and reached over, gently squeezing Lorenzo’s shoulder. “I didn’t ask you out here so you could find a way to be like Collin. You said you wanted to get your hands dirty, and this just seemed like a good start.”
Licking his lips, Lorenzo’s gaze moved out the front windshield, th
en back to Wilder before lifting his hands. ‘Fine. Let’s do this.’
Wilder smiled and opened his door, climbing out and not bothering to wait and see if Lorenzo was going to follow.
Chapter Seven
Lorenzo had never been so grateful to see a bag of frozen peas before in his life, and it also might have been the first time he wanted to cringe as an incredibly attractive man was reaching for his dick. The pain of taking a goat’s forehead to the balls was something he had never imagined before, and as embarrassed as he should have been for turning his head and vomiting what little breakfast he’d managed that morning, there wasn’t anything he could have done.
The only thing saving him in that moment was the fact that no one was laughing. Wilder looked horrified, and Collin looked both resigned and apologetic as he managed to corral the goat into what he called the ‘shame corner’ of the barn—a little fenced off area that had blankets and something that smelled like a litter box.
Lorenzo hadn’t had much time to investigate any of it. Collin had met them outside at the paddock gate, looking a little bit like a lumberjack with his flannel shirt and his wash of grey-streaked hair. His thick beard stretched around his big grin as he extended his hand, and he seemed enthusiastic to show Lorenzo around.
They got as far as the barn entrance when the knee-high, three-legged goat charged. He heard Wilder make a noise and Collin shout, “No!” but he didn’t understand why until he was suddenly on the ground, entirely unable to take a full breath.
The pain radiated down to his toes, and for a moment, he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to get up again. Eventually, though, Wilder got him up to a bench just inside the building, and Collin hurried out, returning with frozen peas that sat resting against his aching crotch and soothing it less than he’d hoped.
“I think you should go see Parker,” Wilder said after a beat.
Lorenzo’s entire face went hot. “The doctor?”
“I’m sure you’ve heard stories, but he’s good at what he does,” Wilder insisted.
As horrifying as the idea was, Lorenzo thought it might be a good idea. He’d heard plenty of terrifying stories involving dick and balls drama, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to take the risk. But his reputation was already at an all-time low from his allergy freak out, and he wasn’t quite sure he wanted to add to it. Right now, he was tempted to haul ass to the airport for a first-class ticket back to his superficial, pointless life where at least his genitals weren’t at risk.
“Trust me,” Wilder said softly, and when Lorenzo didn’t answer, he moved off the bench and crouched in front of him so Lorenzo couldn’t miss his hands when he signed. ‘Trust me. I’ll go with you.’
Lorenzo groaned, his head falling back, and he dragged a hand down his face. When he looked back down, he realized he wasn’t going to be able to tell him no. ‘I guess my time at the farm is over anyway.’
He was surprised at the look of utter relief on Wilder’s face as he stood up and motioned to where Collin was standing at the fence scolding the goat who was busy trying to eat one of the blankets.
“We’re going to take off,” Wilder said, tapping Collin on the shoulder. “I’m taking him to Parker.”
Collin looked heartbroken. “You know, he’s not an actual monster. I’ve had him since he was a kid.”
Lorenzo waved him off with a weak hand. “I get it, he’s a goat.” It was a little bit a lie—but Lorenzo didn’t exactly have experiences with farm animals, and he supposed on some level, he probably deserved it.
“Do me a favor and call Parker—let him know we’re on our way,” Wilder said, then walked back over and offered Lorenzo a hand up.
He still ached. It was pain enough that walking made him feel like he was going to be sick, but he was able to make it out of the barn at a glacial pace, and Wilder supported him to the car.
“He’s only a few minutes down the road,” Wilder said. He reached over and took Lorenzo’s hand. “You can squeeze if it hurts.”
“Not that kind of pain,” Lorenzo told him—and it wasn’t. It wasn’t a sort of sharp, surprising sting. It was a blunt ache that consumed his lower half, and he felt a moment of terror like maybe that goat really had done some damage. “It…it feels like there’s something wrong.”
Wilder’s face paled, which wasn’t a good sign—nor was the way he sped up down the winding road. He got them there in minutes, as he’d promised, and he came to a sudden halt in a parking spot near the doors.
Lorenzo managed to lever himself out of the car, but Wilder was there a second later and helped him up the ramp and inside where a small, older woman looked at them with expectation on her face.
“Collin called us. That Robert is a damn menace.”
Lorenzo didn’t hear Wilder’s response over the click of the door lock and the humming panic in his hears. He was grateful she bustled them both past the normal intake like paperwork and weight and height, and got him right to a room where he was able to lie on his back and take the pressure off.
“He’ll be just a minute, dear,” the woman said.
“Thanks, Gloria.” Wilder touched his hand again. “You want me to go?”
“While some strange, terrifying doctor pokes around my cock?” Lorenzo asked, voice high and tight with anxiety.
“Terrifying, yes. Strange…debatable,” came a voice from the doorway. Lorenzo lifted his head to see a very tall man with soft blond hair and wrinkles near his blue eyes. He was smiling, holding a stethoscope in his hand as he shut the door with his knee.
“Literally no one would debate that,” a second voice said, and a much younger man walked in with a stack of papers. “You must be Robert’s latest victim.”
“I’m horrified that this is a thing,” Lorenzo ground out, holding tight to Wilder’s hand. He wasn’t sure the offer from the car still applied, but he was going to take advantage of it.
“Eddie’s only here to get some information from you. He doesn’t get tickets to the show. I’m Dr. Parker Alling, by the way.” He extended his hand, and as Lorenzo took it, he realized it was a prosthetic.
He tried not to falter, though he wasn’t sure if he succeeded because the pain was still there—as present as ever. “Lorenzo Moretti.”
Eddie’s gaze snapped up. “Rocco’s brother.”
Lorenzo covered his face with his free hand. “Please don’t put this on Twitter.”
“Eddie knows better. His husband is a millionaire, but I don’t think he’d love Eddie being sued to oblivion for violating HIPPA,” Parker said cheerfully. He hooked his rolling chair with his foot, then lifted it until he was at the height of the exam table, and he sat.
Eddie didn’t take long getting Lorenzo’s information, then he was gone, and the room went eerily quiet for long enough to be awkward.
“Collin told me about the incident, so I won’t ask you to relive it, but I’m well aware that goats have a lot of strength, and they can damage delicate parts of the body.” He sounded more like a doctor suddenly, which was both worrying and soothing all at the same time.
“I’m scared there’s something actually wrong. It hurts. It still hurts.”
Parker hummed, then stood again. “I need to examine you—which I assume you know. Do you want Wilder to stay?”
Yes, his brain said, but it didn’t feel like that was his question to answer. None of this was Wilder’s fault, and they weren’t friends. They were barely acquaintances, and at this point, Lorenzo was nothing more than a walking disaster. “You don’t need to.”
Wilder hesitated, but eventually he nodded and slowly detached from Lorenzo’s hand. “I’ll be in the office with Eddie, so if you need me…”
Lorenzo shook his head, even as every fiber of his being was crying for Wilder not to leave him alone. He felt ridiculous—he felt like a child, nothing like a man of forty-three who should have had his shit together long before this. It was humiliating—which seemed to be the theme of his trip since leaving Malibu.
“Pants down to the ankles,” Parker said.
He bent low and then pulled out a sheet, shaking it before laying it over Lorenzo’s middle. Lorenzo’s hands trembled a little as they fumbled with the button and zipper, but he managed to wriggle them off in spite of the pain, and then scooted all the way up until only his knees hung off the sides of the table. “Is this uh…good?”
“It’s fine for now.” Parker gripped the end of the sheet, then met his gaze. “You’re going to be fine.”
Lorenzo’s eyes went hot. “Right…but if there’s something actually wrong…”
“There’s a hospital about forty minutes down the road, and they can take care of anything I can’t. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you, though. Okay?”
Lorenzo blinked, but he didn’t think he was going to be able to hold back tears. The last few days had ravaged him, and now this… “It hurts.” His voice was barely a whisper, and he hated the look on Parker’s face from it.
“It’s supposed to hurt. You don’t take a goat to the balls and walk away like it was nothing—and that little fucker has it in for most humans. If it helps, you aren’t special.”
Lorenzo’s eyes widened, but his tears started to recede. He flinched when Parker put on his gloves, then lifted the sheets, but the doctor didn’t touch him. Yet. “So, he’s done this before?”
“He usually bites,” Parker said. He bunched the sheet up at Lorenzo’s waist, then laid a hand on his thigh. “I’m going to touch you, okay? And I’m going to try and be delicate. I don’t want you hurting more than you already are.”
Lorenzo bit his lip and nodded, then held his breath as he felt Parker’s cool fingers manipulate his dick. Once upon a time, this might have even been a fantasy of his. A tall, gorgeous, blond doctor with a hint of an accent and a thousand-watt smile leaning in to kiss his dick better? But right now, the thought of getting hard again made his stomach roll.