A Subtle Breeze

by Bailey Bradford

  And it was time he did something to make sure Brendon knew how much Zeke appreciated him. Besides, Zeke was done being a cranky shit. He didn’t need his mama there to tell him he was acting like a fool and he needed to stop it. He’d cut off friends for too long, and grown cantankerous. He’d thought he was being strong, but now he knew he was just hiding and feeling sorry for himself.

  “Enough is enough.” Zeke wasn’t helpless or stupid. He needed to stop acting like he was.

  He grabbed his cane and walked to the refrigerator. He wasn’t the world’s greatest chef, but he could cook a few things and set a romantic table. Just because he was tired of hurting didn’t mean he needed to sulk about it. Pain was always going to be a part of his life—it was up to him to deal with that appropriately. Considering the trouble he’d had with his knee for years, Zeke knew he could handle it all better than he’d been doing.

  It was well past time for him to get his head on right, as his mama would have said. In fact, he thought she did say something along those lines, what with her increased visits. Whether it was that her ability to make her presence known had increased, or him being aware of her spirit, Zeke didn’t know, but whatever the reason, she was there frequently. Talking to her was something he did often, and Zeke thought he could get messages from her, to an extent.

  He checked the time. It was a little after three, which meant he had almost three hours to get everything ready. Brendon was shopping in Fort Worth with Enessa, and he’d said he’d be home at six since Enessa had to meet with one of her friends at four-thirty.

  The subtle hint of his mama’s familiar scent reached him and Zeke smiled even as he opened the refrigerator. “I know, Mama. I get it. I’ve been a dumbass. I’m going to make sure Brendon knows that I appreciate him. Maybe I’ll even pick him some flowers from outside.” The wildflowers were gorgeous in the spring.

  One of the doors on the small cabinets above the kitchen sink swung open. Zeke blinked, then got with the game. “That’s a hint, huh?” Truthfully, he hadn’t looked up there in years. The cabinets were difficult to reach and too tiny to hold much of anything, so he’d just left them alone.

  Zeke stretched up on his toes, wincing as his knee throbbed. He reached for whatever was in there, trusting his mama not to set him up to get bit by a spider or anything nasty like that.

  He felt cool, smooth glass. Zeke got his hand around it and pulled it down. His heart ached when he saw the blue and green mottled glass vase. “Oh, Mama.” Eyes stinging with tears, the memory came to him easily. Zeke had been seven, and he’d saved up every penny he’d been able to get a hold of, wanting to buy his mama something beautiful for Mother’s Day. When Elizabeth had pointed out the vase at the antique store, Zeke had known it was meant to belong to his mama. The colors had reminded him of her eyes, and he’d believed the vase was destined to be hers.

  Back then, he’d thought he was king of the walk once he’d bought the vase. He knew now, of course, that old Mr. Struthers must have sold it to him for way less than it was worth. Zeke wasn’t an antique expert by any means, but the vase was gorgeous, finely crafted, and it had to be worth more than the three dollars and sixty-two cents he’d managed to save up to buy it with.

  Zeke held the vase up and the light reflected off of it and through it at the same time. He saw flecks of gold, like glitter, in the glass, as well as small hints of silver. “I don’t remember seeing that before.” He’d just been a kid and probably hadn’t looked closely at it.

  “Thanks, Mama,” he murmured. “Brendon will love it.” Zeke carefully washed the vase even though it was surprisingly free of dust. He dried it with caution, then filled it halfway with water and set it on the center of the table.

  He’d put the flowers in after he had dinner going. That way they’d be fresh when Brendon got home.

  Zeke soon found himself humming, then singing some old country songs as he cooked. Even more, he enjoyed preparing the meal. He felt useful, and proud of himself when he slid the green chile enchiladas in the oven. He made a quick batch of corn mix and set it in the fridge to chill.

  The cake was simple, too. He used a boxed brand but added a package of pudding mix to make it moister than it’d have been otherwise. Zeke didn’t try for fancy—he used the rectangular pan rather than two round ones. Stacking cake wasn’t something he wanted to try to do well and fail at. With just one layer, he didn’t need to worry about if it’d stay together.

  By the time he had the food ready, it was five-thirty. Zeke put out the best plates and silverware they had and filled two glasses with ice then put them in the freezer. The sweet tea was ready, and with everything done, he went outside to pick the flowers.

  Zeke considered the size of the vase, which wasn’t made for huge bouquets. He carefully picked the prettiest flowers he could find, taking his time. He’d hear the rumble of an engine before he ever saw Brendon’s car, so Zeke wasn’t worried about being caught by surprise.

  With a handful of red, yellow and pink wildflowers, Zeke stood, leaning heavily on his cane. Squatting hadn’t been wise, but he’d done it and that was all there was to it. He hobbled back inside and arranged the flowers until he was satisfied that they couldn’t possibly look any better than they did. Not a minute later, he heard Brendon’s car.

  Zeke took the glasses out of the freezer. They were nice and frosty. He set them on the table then fetched the tea. He poured it, then set the pitcher on the counter not far from the table. After that, he took the enchiladas, beans and rice form the oven where he’d been keeping them warm. The tortillas were in their own warmer. He set the food out, putting the tortillas on the table. He retrieved the salsa and guacamole from the fridge and made sure the cake still looked good. The chocolate frosting was smooth and looked like it’d been spread on by someone with real skill. Zeke was fairly impressed with himself.

  He took one of the glasses of tea with him to the front porch. Brendon was parking his truck and waved at him. Zeke smiled and when Brendon got out of the vehicle, he bounded over like he couldn’t wait to reach Zeke.

  Zeke fell even more in love with him then. That happened, every day. Brendon would look at him, touch him, say something, and Zeke fell deeper. He didn’t want that to ever change.

  “You have fun?” he asked as Brendon jogged up the steps.

  “Fun is a relative term, right?” Brendon stopped in front of him then leaned in for a kiss.

  “Relative as in how?” Zeke’s lips tingled from the chaste touch.

  Brendon shrugged. “Your sister likes to shop entirely too much. I don’t think I want to see another mall for a year. Well, okay. A month, minimum. But!” He shoved a hand into his jeans pocket.

  Zeke noticed that Brendon’s cheeks pinked with a blush.

  “I got you something. I hope you don’t mind,” Brendon said. “If you don’t like it, I can take it back, no big deal.”

  But it was a big deal, Zeke could tell. “I, ah, I—” He held up the glass of tea. “Thought you might be thirsty.”

  Brendon’s smile could have melted an iceberg. “God, Zeke, you are the best man ever! I’ve been dying for some of your tea, and the restaurant we had lunch in only had lemon sweet tea. How screwed up is that?” Brendon took the glass, and held out a small black pouch to Zeke with his other hand. “I just… It reminded me of you.”

  “Thank you.” Zeke’s voice was gruff as he battled back some emotion he couldn’t name. It was a powerful one, though. Love, gratitude, and God knew what else all tangled up together.

  Brendon murmured, “You’re welcome,” and took a big gulp of tea.

  Zeke tugged the silver string keeping the velvet bag closed. He saw turquoise and some kind of orange stone, and silver glinting when he pulled out the necklace.

  “It’s— Maybe you don’t like necklaces, or not ones like that,” Brendon began. “It’s fine if you don’t. You aren’t obligated by any means to—”

  “Bren, stop,” Zeke said, gaze on the necklace
as he held it up to look at it. Contrary to what one might think, due to the turquoise and silver, the necklace wasn’t designed with a Southwestern flare. The orange stone curved against the turquoise, both pieces framed in silver. “Yin and Yang,” he murmured.

  “Yeah, because we’ve lived it, the good and the bad, the combination of them in each other and—” Brendon groaned. “God, don’t listen to me! I’m making about as much sense as a toddler explaining gravity.”

  “I picked it up, let it go. It fell.” Zeke grinned at Brendon. He wasn’t certain he’d nailed it, but he hoped he had. “A toddler could do it, and I get what you’re saying. Thank you. I love it.” He fastened it in place and patted it where it rested against his chest. It felt warm, and right. “I love you, too, you know.”

  “I do,” Brendon said. “You made me tea, and you look at me like…”

  “Like?” Zeke asked.

  Brendon touched Zeke’s face gently. “Like I’m your world.”

  “You are.” Zeke cupped Brendon’s hand and held it against his cheek. “Don’t ever doubt it. Now, come on in. Seems like we both decided to give gifts today.” Zeke was still proud of his.

  Brendon went inside first and sniffed. “Oh, yum! I smell something delicious. Did you cook dinner for me?”

  “You know it.” Zeke put an arm around Brendon’s waist. “Worked my butt off, too.”

  “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Brendon gave him a big, noisy kiss. “Gloria picked this fusion place. Infusion place? Oh whatever! It wasn’t food, it was art and there was about two bites to it. I am starving!”

  “There’s cake,” Zeke told him. “Yellow with chocolate frosting.”

  Brendon fluttered his lashes at Zeke. “I’d tell you I’ll love you forever, but that was happening even before you cooked this for me.”

  Zeke laughed and nudged Brendon to the table. “Sit, and I’ll even serve you.”

  “Mm, I’m feeling spoiled— Oh, Zeke, they’re beautiful,” Brendon whispered. “And the vase, it’s gorgeous.”

  Zeke had forgotten about the flowers. “Got that for Mama years ago. Thought you should have it.”

  “Me? What? No, you should keep it,” Brendon argued.

  Zeke scooped him out some enchiladas and brought them to Brendon before answering. “No, because I bought it for the person I loved most in the world. It was never meant to be mine. Now, that vase belongs to the person I love most, again.”

  Brendon stood up and kissed Zeke, not a tender kiss, or a noisy one, but a deep, claiming kiss that sent desire shooting through every inch of Zeke’s body. “Thank you,” Brendon said a moment later, when he eased back.

  “You’re welcome.” Zeke felt a little weak in the legs from that kiss, but he managed to finish dishing up their food.

  The meal was perfect, as was the company. Zeke enjoyed it every bit as much as Brendon did. They decided to have the cake with milk, and Zeke was so full when they finished that he didn’t think he’d be able to waddle very far.

  Until Brendon looked at him with need in his pretty brown eyes, until he touched Zeke, a caress down his arm and hip.

  Zeke found that he could move fast enough to get Brendon into the bedroom, where he slowed down enough to remove Brendon’s clothes, then his own.

  “Zeke, I never thought I’d have this, have someone as amazing as you,” Brendon said as he lay down on the bed. He parted his legs, offering himself to Zeke.

  “We have to talk about this low standard of amazing that you have,” Zeke teased. “Brendon, you are everything to me. I don’t think I’d be able to feel anything if you hadn’t come into my life.”

  Brendon sighed happily and bent his legs, planting his heels against the mattress. “Why don’t we show each other how amazing we both are?”

  Zeke didn’t need any more prompting. He got the lube and tossed it on the bed. Then he joined Brendon, and pulled the man into his arms.

  Zeke started with kisses, building up the embers of desire between them until it was raging and they were trying to touch each other everywhere. He had to pull back for a second and breathe, then he was diving back in, plundering Brendon’s mouth as he rubbed at his nipples.

  Brendon moaned and rutted against him. The wet, slippery tip of Brendon’s cock left sticky kisses of its own on Zeke’s skin.

  Zeke trailed his lips over Brendon’s collarbone then down to his left nipple. He licked and bit at it until Brendon was squirming and begging for more. Then he moved to the other one and scraped it with his teeth.

  Brendon clutched at him, vibrating with need, tossing his head and demanding that Zeke fuck him now!

  Zeke lipped and tugged Brendon’s nipples for another minute or two, then he surged down and, with one hand on Brendon’s cock, guided it into his mouth.

  “Zeke!” Brendon shouted, kicking the mattress as he bucked.

  Zeke sucked Brendon’s shaft and fondled his balls. He rolled Brendon onto his back and took Brendon’s dick in deeper with every bob of his head.

  Brendon keened and pulled at his hair. Zeke felt Brendon’s balls draw tight, the skin of his sac wrinkling up. He left off sucking Brendon’s length and maneuvered Brendon onto his side once more, this time with Zeke behind him. Zeke found the lube and coated his cock and two fingers. He pushed those digits into Brendon’s hole slowly, biting gently at Brendon’s nape while doing so.

  Brendon’s ring clenched around Zeke’s fingers. His soft, hot inner walls rippled and clamped down as Zeke stroked them.

  “Zeke, I need,” Brendon panted.

  Zeke added a little suction to his bite, and Brendon jolted, inside and out.

  Zeke pumped his fingers in deeper, harder, and curled them so that he rubbed the tips over Brendon’s gland.

  “God,” Brendon rasped, arching his neck and back.

  Zeke sucked up a dark purple mark while he fingered Brendon, and when he felt that Brendon was ready, Zeke withdrew his fingers and lined up his cock. He clamped a hand around Brendon’s hip, and growled when he thrust in, not stopping until his balls were pressed against Brendon’s.

  Brendon whimpered and hitched his leg up, opening his ass more to Zeke.

  Zeke took it for the offering it was. He held Brendon firmly in place and began to drive in and out of his tight ass.

  Brendon rocked back as much as he could, but Zeke was commanding every movement. There was a roaring in his head, a buildup of ecstasy that made his pulse pound and his vision haze.

  Zeke took over holding onto Brendon’s leg, feeling his climax rapidly approaching.

  Brendon reached for his own cock. “Zeke, Zeke,” he repeated over and over, until finally he shouted wordlessly, his entire body going tense, his ass especially, the grip there so tight Zeke had to cease thrusting and give in to the orgasm demanding its release.

  The blissful sensations washed over Zeke and kept him a willing prisoner as he jetted cum into Brendon.

  Eventually, Zeke became aware of the ebb of pleasure and the rising need for sleep. “Jesus, Bren,” he whispered, pulling Brendon closer to him.

  Brendon grunted, then wiggled.

  Zeke’s cock slipped from his ass, and Brendon rolled over to face him.

  There was no need for words. Zeke saw the love shining in Brendon’s eyes, and knew Brendon could read the same emotion in his.

  It was a perfect moment, capping a perfect night, with the perfect man. Zeke snuggled up to Brendon, and let himself drift to sleep, holding his love in his arms.

  Also available from Pride Publishing:

  Mossy Glenn Ranch: Chaps and Hope

  Bailey Bradford

  Excerpt

  Chapter One

  “Wow, I don’t know about this,” Troy muttered, looking out of the passenger side window. There were freakin’ mountains. They made Troy feel small and he didn’t like that at all.

  “I think it’s beautiful,” Will said, leaning against Troy. Will, lithe guy that he was, always sat in the middle of the truck�
�s bench seat. Will loved being in the middle, whereas Troy only loved it in certain situations—like when he, Will, and Carlos were all naked and fucking like bunnies. Troy pulled his gaze away from the intimidating ginormous mounds and cast it towards the stoic, chiselled cowboy driving so competently.

  Carlos could be a mountain, Troy decided. Their mountain, his and Will’s. It had taken Troy a while but he’d come to believe he could depend on Carlos—and Will. Sometimes he thought he was the weak link in their relationship, but he tried not to let his insecurities get the best of him.

  “I missed this when we were in Texas,” Will continued, and he began to stroke Troy’s thigh, just teasing at the inside seam of his jeans. “South Texas is so damn flat, and dry, God, it’s awful. Nice people though.” Will shifted and nipped Troy’s jaw, drawing every bit of Troy’s attention then. Will’s eyes gleamed with the knowledge that he’d just made Troy’s dick so hard he was surprised it didn’t drill right through his jeans. Troy knew Will’s expressions better than he knew his own.

  “Sexy men,” Will added, dragging fingers across Troy’s rigid length.

  “You two gonna put on a show, I might just have to pull over,” Carlos rumbled, and Troy’s dick got just that much harder. Carlos was still looking straight ahead, watching the road, as far as Troy could tell. He either had awesome peripheral vision, or he knew his men quite well. Probably the latter, Troy thought as he sucked in a sharp breath. Will rubbing his balls was guaranteed to make Troy whimper unless he bit the crap out of his lips.

  “We could put on a show for you, Cowboy,” Will purred, using his pet name for Carlos. “Or you could pull over and join in, ’cuz I’m gonna be all over Troy and his big dick in just a few seconds.”

  The whimper Troy had been trying to hold in burst free in a gush of warm air, blood surging through his veins at the promise in Will’s voice. Dimly, he was aware of Carlos cursing in that low, rough way he did when he got horny as hell. The truck swerved, bumped along for a few seconds as Will bent and blew on Troy’s denim-covered dick.