Home Truths

by Sasha Goldie

Soft music drifted into the kitchen from the living room. Was that jazz? Ian swayed to the beat of the music as he fiddled with something on the counter. Did he like to dance?

  "Wow," I whispered, looking at the man that made my blood warm and my dick harden with just a smile or soft touch. "This looks great."

  He turned with a platter and serving spoon in his hand. "The food was nice and toasty, so it's ready to eat." He set it on the table. "Ready?"

  I'd stopped at a bistro that touted its excellent gourmet dinners. When I'd called, they'd sworn the food would last a good hour in the thermal bag. I hoped they'd been honest, because I wanted the night to go really well.

  Ian actually walked around the table and held out my chair for me. I almost didn't know how to react. In a little over a quarter of a century on this Earth, nobody had ever held out my chair.

  I leaned forward before I sat and brushed a kiss on his cheek. "Thank you."

  I caught the beaming smile that briefly crossed his face out of the corner of my eye before I sat down. He sat across from me, reaching for the serving spoon, but I moved faster. "You pulled out my chair, I'll dish out your meal."

  We could both be gentlemen.

  He chuckled and sat back, taking a sip of wine. "Apologies about the wine. It was the last bottle I had in the house, and there was no time to run to the liquor store or the brewery."

  "I'm sure it's fine." After handing his plate back to him, I took a sip from my glass and puckered my lips. Whoa. It was not good. "It's just fine," I said with a wry smile. Ugh, it tasted like pure vinegar.

  He burst out laughing. "You're a horrible liar, Nate."

  "I'm sorry," I exclaimed. "I can't help it." He was right. I'd never been a good liar. My face had failed me many times as a kid trying to get away with normal kid stuff.

  "How do you sell real estate without being able to lie?" he asked as I dished out my own food.

  "I never lie about what I'm selling," I said earnestly. "I will, at times, skip past certain things I hope the client won't notice. But I don't omit them from any of the reports. I put the cold hard facts in the reports, or make sure the appraisers do, then when showing a property in person, I focus on all the best parts of the property. If they don't read the reports I provide them, it's not my fault." I shrugged. "Would you buy something that huge without reading every single sentence of the information about what you were buying?"

  "Well, I'll admit to not reading all the legalese, but I did read the information about the land itself."

  "You own land?" I asked. He'd never mentioned it.

  "My dad left me this place, as well as his hunting cabin and a small plot of land farther up in the mountains. Do you think this is rustic? I'll take you to see it one day."

  "Yeah, but that paperwork is probably a lot different from what you have to go over in a sale." The food was delicious, thankfully. I'd have to leave them an online review.

  "Probably. It's sort of like terms and conditions on websites. Who reads those?"

  Cutting my eyes at him, I raised my hand sheepishly. "I'll admit, I don't read them all. But I've read a few."

  He laughed again, and I basked in the rich tone. Warmth filled my chest, but I hadn't had enough wine to do that. Only a couple of sips.

  Was this what it would feel like to be around someone I genuinely liked? Maybe this was what love felt like. I'd never been in love, never been to the point that I could see myself living day in and day out with another person, besides my sister.

  16

  Ian

  Nate lying was the cutest thing I'd seen him do yet. How had this man turned from being another city slicker I wanted to avoid, to someone sexy, alluring, and of all things, cute? When had it flipped on its head?

  I'd thought he was hot the moment I saw him, then he'd been awkward as hell in the truck. Almost rude, bragging about money. But then I'd learned more about him, and now I knew that he'd just been nervous, and had been attracted to me.

  First impressions weren't always the best impressions.

  The food he'd brought home was good but far too fancy for me. He seemed to love it, though. Maybe I'd finally found an area in which we weren't totally compatible. Everything else had seemed to fit together like puzzle pieces so far. Besides the whole city mouse, country mouse thing.

  We ate comfortably. One thing about the few women I'd dated that I'd hated—they didn't eat. They picked at the food, or wouldn't order anything. I'd heard that was common of women, to make it seem like they didn't eat much, or to eat very little to stay skinny.

  Nate wolfed down his food like he was starving. Maybe he was. "Did you have a nice lunch?" I asked. I had no idea if he'd had time to find somewhere to grab something in the city.

  "I did. I ordered in a catered lunch for the developers and had a huge sandwich. It was good."

  "How did it go today?" I asked.

  His chewing slowed, and he looked me in the eye. "Are you sure you want to hear about it?"

  Nate was trying to be sensitive to my feelings about the sale. I wanted to kiss him for it. Instead, I put my hand over his. "I'm not thrilled that the land could go to someone that will bring in something Three Lakes really doesn't need. But I am thrilled that this could bolster your career so much. I want to know how your day was, which, I'll admit, is still a little surprising to me."

  He furrowed his brow a little and took a sip of the wine before grimacing. "You don't have a beer or soda do you?"

  Chuckling, I grabbed a beer from the fridge. "I did think to get beer at the grocery store."

  "Thanks."

  The wine really was terrible, I couldn't blame him.

  "So, yeah, I've got three big-league players. The others, I don't think they'll pony up in the end. But there are three that will. And for Three Lakes, I hope it's the retail guy."

  "Why do you say that?" I asked.

  "I talked the tourists up with him, hardcore. He would bring in retail shops. Provide job options to Three Lakes and the counties surrounding. The shops would cater mostly to tourists, bringing tax money to the city. But there wouldn't be a subdivision going up for new people to move in and overwhelm the small town."

  I took a bite and contemplated his words. We already had tons of tourists, just nowhere for them to go. They crowded the diner and the brewery, but mostly they had to go toward Bend to spend any real money.

  "What about the local businesses? What about the business they'll lose?" I asked.

  "That is a problem, for sure. But I'd wager that there will still be plenty to go around. Maybe they won't be so overwhelmed and some of the locals that avoid coming out to eat at the diner or to shop at the antique shops will start frequenting them more."

  "Still, I wish there was another way." I put my hand on him again. "But I don't blame you. If it wasn't you doing this and getting the benefits, it'd just be someone else from your firm, right?"

  "Absolutely true." He nodded and chewed. "That asshole Barton would've gotten it, and he's a real dick."

  "Well, I'm glad you did." I didn't move my hand.

  Nate turned his hand under mine, our palms meeting and fingers tickling each other's wrists. "How was your day?"

  "Good," I said. "Productive." I pushed my plate to the side and focused my attention on Nate. He'd already pushed his away. "I got the car done."

  Nate's eyes were on my hands. His fingers traced the random scars all over them. "How'd these happen?"

  I laughed ruefully. "Honestly, couldn't tell you. I've burned or cut my hands so many times, one scar will replace another." I turned my hand to show him the tips of my fingers. "See this scar?" A straight line ran across my middle finger and ring finger. "In the third grade, I cut off one and nearly cut the other off."

  "Holy shit," he exclaimed as he stroked the spot. The feel of his fingers on my scar was strange. Those two fingers didn't have the same level of sensitivity as the rest of my hand. "How?"

  "Messing with dad's tools. It was a clean cut, luckily, a
nd Dad kept his head. Mom lost it."

  "I see they got them back on." He pinched the tip of each finger lightly. "Or are these some sort of new age, bionic fingers?"

  "Ha!" I exclaimed. "No, Dad grabbed the tips and put them on ice after he wrapped my hand. The sheriff gave us a police escort to the hospital in Bend."

  "And your mom?"

  "Sobbed the whole time. She's not great in an emergency."

  "Neither is my sister."

  I'd wondered about her. "What's she like?"

  "Vulnerable. Fragile. She was teased a lot about our money situation. The girls in school are so much meaner than the guys." He shook his head. "Once we went to college, we grew very close and still are."

  "That's great. I always wished mom and dad had another baby, but as an adult, I found out I was a fluke. Mom's got a condition that makes getting and staying pregnant really difficult."

  He smiled. "At least they had you." His expression softened. "Can I ask about the military?" He had that expression on his face that people who read too many news articles got. Like I was going to go into a fit of PTSD just by being asked.

  My time in the service had been decidedly unremarkable. "Sure. It doesn't bother me to talk about it." I shrugged. "There's really not a lot to tell. I had it so much better than a lot of soldiers. I saw very little combat, and what I did go through was such a blur, not a lot of it sticks in my mind. Maybe one day things might be more clear, or I might remember more, but I really don't think I've repressed anything."

  "Wow. You always hear such horror stories."

  "Yeah, it was kind of great. I got a sign-on bonus, which I still have tucked away, collecting interest. And I could've gone to college, but I ended up here. As far as I know, I can still go back to school if I want, but I love being a mechanic. I don't think I want to do anything else at this point."

  "Nothing wrong with that," he said, looking at my hands again. "Besides, I'm not kidding about how attractive your hands are. And the way you keep your muscle tone, lugging car parts, lifting machinery." He breathed out. "Yeah. It's hot."

  "So you like to slum it with the blue collars, eh?" I asked with my eyebrow raised.

  Nate's gaze jerked up to my face, relief blossoming when he saw I was teasing him. "You had me worried that you thought I was a snob," he accused me, moving his hand to squeeze mine.

  "Well, I did." I pursed my lips and waited for his outrage.

  "No." He widened his eyes. "Why?"

  "The whole money thing." I'd already told him that part. "And the car. And preppy clothes."

  "Yeah, well, get used to it."

  He clamped his mouth shut, realizing what he'd said. Why would I need to get used to it if he didn't want to spend more time with me, give me time to get used to his ways?

  "Nate," I whispered. "Can I kiss you?"

  "Finally," he replied. "I've been waiting for you to ask or just do it since the first night I was here."

  I stood, moving around to the other side of the table without letting go of Nate's hand. He turned in his chair and looked up at me, waiting on my move. Taking his other hand, I enjoyed the sight of him looking up at me before pulling him up, then let go of his hands so I could cup his face.

  "I've wanted to do this since the first night, too," I whispered, then pressed my lips to his, moving them enough to feel how soft his were. His lips were plump, full enough to suck between mine, tasting the beer on him. Before it got too heated, I pulled back. "Nate," I said in a low voice, moving my hands to his neck and caressing slowly. "I bought condoms."

  He smiled like a Cheshire cat. "So did I."

  Laughing, I pressed my lips to his again. "Then we're in agreement?"

  He nodded, and I deepened the kiss, pulling his body into mine. He'd changed out of his work clothes and into running pants, so there wasn't much between us to mask how turned on he was. My jeans held my own erection tight against my body.

  "Where?" he asked breathlessly, his hands hot on my chest.

  Turning, I took his hand and walked to my bedroom, my dick hardening even more at the prospect of what was coming.

  17

  Nate

  Ian's bedroom. It existed. He pulled me inside, all my energy focused on him. For all I remembered of that night, the room might not have had walls or a floor. I couldn't see anything but him, his face, his body. His hands, that no matter how hard he scrubbed, had a permanent discoloration from working on cars.

  The only thing I was sure of was the room had a bed, and it had Ian, and that was all I needed. He stopped beside the bed, pulling me close. "This."

  I raised my eyebrows and smiled at him. "This?"

  "It's, uh, this is it."

  "What's it?" My heart froze. Was he backing out? It was too much. I was too much like his ex. Damn it.

  "I'm just trying to say I'm not doing this lightly." He reached down for my other hand, pulling both to his face and pressing his lips against them. "This isn't a one-night stand or a two-week tourist fling."

  The vulnerability in his face and the shakiness of his voice made my heart soar again. He was nervous because he cared about me. Pulling my hands from his, I grabbed his face and yanked it toward mine. He grunted as our lips crashed together. I might've been a little voracious, so I softened my approach a little, licking the seam of his lips with the very tip of my tongue.

  Ian made small noises, he probably didn't even know he was doing it. Like a cross between a grunt and a groan, telling me how much he enjoyed the feel of my lips moving over his.

  Ian grabbed my shoulders, turning me so my back faced the bed. Without breaking the kiss, he unbuttoned my shirt slowly, his fingers massaging the skin he exposed between each button.

  He finally opened his mouth, his tongue meeting mine. I'd wanted to taste his tongue, ached for it, since the first night. As soon as he had my shirt unbuttoned, I broke from him, pulling back enough to grab his shirt and lift it over his head. "I want to feel you," I whispered, throwing the shirt across the room I still hadn't looked at.

  His eyes looked dark, almost forest green. In the light that morning, they'd seemed more like grass. "What is it?" he whispered.

  "I like looking at you," I replied. "Touching you." I placed my hands on his chest, slowly pressing my palms into his pecs, enjoying the feel of his muscles and smooth skin. "I would've taken you for having a hairy chest."

  "Really?" he chuckled as he looked down at my hands. "I like seeing this."

  "Oh, do you? You like seeing my hands move across your skin?" I teased him a bit, drawing out the eventual conclusion. "How about your arms?" Moving my hands to his biceps, I rubbed them firmly. "You like that?"

  He flexed his arms, showing off his muscles. "Do you?"

  Nodding my head, I moved to his shoulders. "And there."

  The waistband of his jeans called me, so I sped up the movement of my hands. I wanted to tease him, but damn, I also wanted to take him into my mouth. Changing up my touch, I traced my fingers around his chest, around, then up and down, stopping to tweak his nipples halfway through.

  Finally moving down a bit, I splayed my fingers across Ian's stomach, dancing down and around his belly button. As I slid around to his side, he sucked in his stomach. "Ticklish?" I asked, already seeing the answer in the way he tensed up.

  "Just a little."

  "I'll take your mind off of it." I lowered my mouth to his chest, licking one pec while my fingers dug into his side. My mouth found his nipple, sucking it in and teasing the tip with my tongue. He swayed and grabbed my hips, yanking my pelvis into his. Our erections pressed against each other, the evidence of how much we'd wanted each other for days.

  The angle made it difficult to continue my exploration of him. He wasn't that much taller than I was. I moved my kisses to his neck, biting down slightly on the sensitive flesh of his nape.

  That, apparently, was his hot button.

  Ian grabbed my shoulders again, harder this time, pushing me down onto the bed. "Unbutton
my pants." His voice was firm and sure.

  The vulnerability was gone, apparently chased away by my bite.

  "You like the biting then?"

  He raised an eyebrow as he looked down at me. "Please." The twinkle in his eye made me smile. He enjoyed being demanding.

  "Since you said please," I replied with a grin as I reached for his belt. Moving quickly, I unbuttoned and unzipped him, but didn't try to move his boxers aside.

  "Condom?" I asked. I'd just gotten run-of-the-mill magnums at the gas station, but I hoped he'd gotten something a little more oral-friendly.

  He leaned over to a nightstand I'd just noticed and pulled out a box. "They're flavored."

  Excellent. I grabbed the box and ripped it open, pulling out a row of multi-colored packages. "What do you think? Banana or vanilla?"

  He pushed his pants and boxers down. "I think I'm more of a vanilla flavor."

  His dick was inches from my mouth, teasing me. I wanted to lick it, suck it, do all sorts of naughty things to it. But not without the condom, not yet.

  I ripped open the vanilla-flavored pack and grabbed the base of Ian's dick. Gliding the condom down his shaft, I followed its progression with my mouth. The flavor was smooth and not overwhelming. When I'd taken him as far into my mouth as I could, I pressed my tongue on the underside of his dick, creating pressure before I moved again.

  Ian grabbed my hair, tugging gently backward, urging me to move. I complied, sucking as I pulled back. "Damn, Nate. That's amazing."

  Instead of answering, I moved my head forward again, using my tongue and suction to give him the most intense feeling I could. His fingers tightened in my hair. "Nate," he whispered. I paused with his cock halfway into my mouth, moving my gaze upward, barely able to meet his eyes.

  My left hand on his shaft, I grabbed his hip with my right, pulling him toward me instead of moving my head toward him, indicating that he could fuck my mouth if he wanted to.

  Guessing by the near pain his grip brought to my scalp, and the jerking movements of his hips, he really wanted to.