by Sasha Goldie
With a chuckle, I opened my laptop, waiting on it to boot up. Tyler seated a couple at a booth down from mine and wandered over. "What do you do?" he asked curiously. Since I didn't even have my stuff opened up yet, I didn't mind chatting with him while I got settled.
"Real estate." I typed in the laptop's password.
"Oh, that's right. I knew that." He rolled his eyes and plopped down in the booth across from me.
Okay then. We were apparently going to have a chat. "So, you and Ian, huh?" He put his chin in his hand and stared at me.
I stared at him, startled. I hadn't realized we were official enough to tell anyone.
"Everyone in town is talking about the two of you."
When had that happened? "Everyone?" I asked weakly.
"Oh, yeah. It's such a small town. We don't get much juicy gossip. I just wanted to tell you welcome, and I'm happy for you both. Ian deserves someone great." Tyler sat up and crossed his legs. "After Scott, I'm glad he'll have someone around to keep him grounded."
It was an effort to keep the shock off my face. Grounded? I'd never met anyone as grounded as Ian. He was like a rock, down to earth and levelheaded.
"I mean, he's probably one of my favorite people in Three Lakes, even if it wasn't written in the stars for us to be together. But as a friend, you couldn't ask for better."
I opened my mouth to ask what the hell he was talking about, but he wouldn't give me time to get a word in. "Don't worry, there never was anything between us, really. But at the time, there really weren't many gay men in town." He put his hand up to his mouth as if telling me a secret. "Not out, anyway," he whispered with a wink. "Ian and I went on a couple of dates, but we're just too different. They say opposites attract, but for us, it was blah." Waving a hand in front of his face, he rolled his eyes and looked at the ceiling. "My aunt was so disappointed. She loves him. Wanted him in the family."
He paused, but by then I really wasn't sure what to say. "Oh?" I finally said softly.
"Yeah, well, she and my uncle raised me. I think she might've been a little disappointed that I was gay, but I never thought she judged me or didn't accept me, which is great. Too many people had shit from their parents for being someone they can't help being." He leaned forward, an intent expression on his face. "You didn't, did you? Did I touch on a sensitive subject?"
I shook my head. "No."
"Good. I think she just worried about my life being harder. It probably has been, but hell, can't help what I like, right?"
Managing a head nod, he still didn't let me get a word in.
"You'll love it here. Everyone is really friendly, and our gay community is supportive. We've ended up with a couple of nontraditional families. Excellence attracts excellence, I suppose."
He looked at me expectantly. Shit. He'd been making a joke. I laughed, and it even sounded forced to my ears. Love it in Three Lakes? When was I moving to Three Lakes? Good grief.
"Anyway, you'll like it here. And if you two decide that the apartment is too small when you start having kids, you'll know exactly what to do, you being in real estate."
The door jingled as someone came in. "Whoops, gotta go. I'll come back later so we can talk."
Finally able to breathe, I rummaged in my bag for my earbuds. If I had them in, maybe he'd see I was busy and not come back for another long conversation planning my future for me.
Once Tyler was gone, I was able to get signed in to the database that housed our company's potential properties and leads for more. I'd been curious what kind of leads were available in Bend. If I might move out of the city, maybe I could work on smaller properties. There was still good money in that. Just because I wanted to make sure I never wanted for money again didn't mean I had to have as much money as Crissy. Realtors in smaller towns did just fine.
Even though there were plenty of available leads and properties I could look over, I had a hard time focusing. My eyes kept drifting to Tyler and my mind to his words.
He'd really planned out our lives for us. Kids. Whoa. I didn't even know if I wanted kids.
Pulling open a messages app on my laptop, I pinged my sister, hoping she was home.
Nate: You around?
Her answering ping came right back.
Sara: Just got in. What's up?
She was used to me messaging her on there if I worked in a place that it wasn't convenient to talk. I tended to like to go work from coffee shops in the city, and the roof of my office building was like a little mini-park with plants and benches everywhere. I loved to work from there in nice weather, but so did a lot of my coworkers. It was fine for business conversations, but anything personal had to go over a message.
Nate: Nothing, really. Just got a little freaked out.
Her reply came back within seconds.
Sara: Are you okay? Are you in danger??
Nate: Not that kind of freaked out, geez.
Sara: Oh, okay, then what is it?
Nate: It's a long story, but after my car broke down I was left with nowhere to stay, so the local mechanic is letting me stay in his spare room.
Sara: I knew that, and that's nice of him. Is he an ax murderer?
Nate: NO.
Sara: Rapist?
Nate: No, geez.
Sara: Homophobe?
Nate: No, he's gay too. He's a real country boy, jeans and boots sort of guy.
Sara: Ohhhhh, I get it. You liiiiike him, don't you? You like your country boy.
I let the cursor sit on the screen while I decided how to reply.
Sara: You're not answering, which means you do! I can't believe you! You won't even go on a real date and you're living with a guy?
Nate: Now, hold on a sec. Just because I'm staying in his spare room doesn't mean we're living together.
Sara: Have you done it yet?
Even though I knew exactly what she meant, I pretended I didn't.
Nate: Done what?
Sara: Which means yes. I can NOT believe you! And you give me a hard time for using dating apps. You're shacking up with this guy you barely know.
Nate: Okay, but that's the problem. I do like him. And he lives here, in Three Lakes. Hell, he owns a business here. I can't ask him to move so we can date and see how it goes. And I don't want to live here in Mayberry, not really.
Sara: Why not?
Nate: What do you mean why not? We've always lived in the city.
Sara: Doesn't mean you always have to. And why does it have to go from you like him straight to one of you has to move? You can't date for a while?
Nate: Well, we live far apart.
Sara: So, visit. It's not THAT far. Quit reading too much into it and quit freaking out. Just relax and let it happen. If it works out, great. If not, then you've tried something new, which is never bad.
Nate: I guess you're right. No need to freak yet. We haven't even defined anything at this point.
We spent a few minutes talking about the disastrous date she'd had the night before, and about her work in marketing. She wasn't quite as driven as I was, but she'd made junior partner and picked up a national account.
Nate: Proud of you, little sister.
Sara: I'm proud of you too. Now go enjoy your mechanic. Your country boy.
I closed the chat window with a grin. If someone had told me as a kid that my sister would end up being one of my best friends, I would've told them they were nuts. But she was, and in the end, I was glad of it. Who else would look out for me better than my sister? Plus, this way I was able to keep a close eye on her dates and make sure she didn't pick a loser.
Tyler came over to refresh my coffee. "Let me know when you're ready to order lunch," he said with a wink, sashaying slightly as he walked away to the soft doo-wop music in the background.
Resolving to get busy then, I really focused on the listings. Several of the leads were promising. It was something I at least wanted to think about, switching from large projects to the residential division of our company.
; Finally, I exited that program and opened my email. I had neglected it too long. I had one from a younger agent that I'd sort of taken under my wing. She was off on her own now, but still sent me the occasional email or called for advice. I replied with my recommendation for property surveyor—her usual one was out of town—and spotted an email buried at the bottom. It was from the conservatory. I’d nearly missed it in the mess that was my inbox.
A smile spread across my face as I read. They were in the process of being approved for a large grant to become an official conservation in the state of Oregon. If they received the grant, and it seemed they would, all they'd need is another small fundraiser and they'd have enough money to buy a large piece of land. The mountains were the best place, given the animals they wanted to rehabilitate. And the grant would pay a large stipend for a decade, giving them the ability to take out a loan to help with paying for the property. They'd just had a large, successful fundraiser that would be plenty enough for the down payment. Maybe the idea of them coming to the auction wasn't so far-fetched after all.
The auction was the day after tomorrow. I didn't know if they'd have time to get everything together to be there, but I sent them the information just in case. I couldn't get my hopes up, though. Even if they came, there was no telling how much the retail developers might spend to get prime real estate in the area.
As I went through the rest of my emails, I tucked my hopes for the conservation project away. I had two emails from developers expressing their excitement in the auction, and one from my boss, encouraging me to drive the auction up and get them to bid more and more.
20
Ian
My back started to tire as I bent far over the car, reaching for a bolt I couldn't quite loosen from below. I'd been trying to get the damn thing off for a good five minutes solid. It finally gave, finally turning. "Hell, yes," I shouted at it.
As soon as the words left my lips, the phone rang. After wiping my hands on one of my shop rags, I answered. "Garland's."
"Ian, it's Duke. That part you ordered for that runner is in."
My heart sank. It had come in early. Now Nate had no reason to stay, not really. "The runner?"
Duke's phone clanked. "Be right with you!" he shouted. "Yeah, that city boy staying with you. It's here. Oh, hey, Frank, you ready?" The phone clanked again. It was probably as old as Duke's shop, and it had been there as long as I could remember. Hell, my dad had told me the shop had been there as long as he could remember. "Ian, my son's here to take me to Bend for a doctor appointment. I'll drop the part by your shop."
"Thanks, Duke. See you in a minute."
I turned back to the car, determined to finish the job today. I'd have to start Nate's the next morning. It wouldn't be right not to tell him, as much as I wanted him to stay a little while longer. Cranking my wrench, I fought anger at the speed of the delivery. We’d just gotten something good going, and now it was going to be cut short. I’d been glad when Duke had said eight days. It would’ve given us time to get to know each other better and see if the relationship was something worth pursuing.
I'd just gotten the faulty part off when Duke walked in. "Hey, Ian, here's your gasket." He put the box on my desk. "You and the city boy getting on all right? It was brave of you to let him stay with you." The wiry old man had been a staple in Three Lakes for as long as I could remember. Hell, probably as long as my dad could’ve remembered.
"Thanks for dropping it by, Duke. And yes, we're fine. Why would you say brave, though?" Genuinely curious to get his answer, I laid the broken part to the side and faced him, wiping the excess grease and dirt off of my hands before reaching for my water bottle.
He laughed and shrugged. "Well, you never know what sort of values those city folk will have. He might steal you blind."
Chuckling, I held out my hand after wiping it off again. "He won't steal me blind, Duke. Thanks for coming by here."
He shook my hand, his grip still iron even though he had to be pushing eighty. "My pleasure, Ian. Daisy'd kick my ass if she knew I made you come all that way when I was passing by your shop anyway." He scratched at his white hair, looking around. To hear him tell it, he lived in another town, not just up the street.
"How’d it come in so fast, anyway?" I asked him, looking at the box.
"Oh, the guy said someone in the States found one in their shop. He’d sent out an email to a chain of suppliers or something like that." He must’ve meant supply chain, but I didn’t correct him.
"Well, I appreciate it." He shook my hand again and invited me to dinner with him and his wife, Daisy. She ran the diner and he ran the parts store, and I didn’t think either one of them would ever retire.
He left for his doctor's appointment, leaving me staring at the large box on my desk. "Damn," I whispered, then moved the box to the bay Nate's car waited in. Throwing myself back into my work, the afternoon passed quickly, even though I couldn’t get the coming disappointment of Nate leaving off of my mind. I cranked up the radio to help drown out my thoughts.
Halfway through the afternoon, my phone rang. "Garland’s," I said into the receiver, hoping it would be a tow or something to delay me so I couldn’t start Nate’s car tomorrow.
"Hey, Ian, it’s Tyler. Listen, word on the street is," he lowered his voice, "that Nate’s about to sell the Parkson land to an entertainment company to start filming movies here. Is that true?"
I blinked several times, processing his words before I burst out laughing. "No," I barked into the phone. "Stop spreading rumors." With a chortle, I hung up on him. Throughout the rest of the afternoon, I received three more phone calls.
"Mom," I said, getting to the point of exasperation. "Come on. We’re not getting a new Dollywood. Where’d you even hear this?" I rolled my eyes as I listened to her response. "Well, tell Daisy to keep her mind on her diner. It’s not as bad as all that." We caught up, and I had to tell her about Nate. She’d already heard all about him from Daisy. "He’s not my new boyfriend, he’s just staying here. Yes, I like him, and no, we aren’t getting married."
She laughed at me and gave me her love. Apparently, she had a canasta game to get to.
Finally, the rumor mill was satisfied, and I got back to work. As I finished up my regular’s car, Nate walked in the shop door.
"Hey," I said, delighted to see him. My joy at watching him walk in the door told me all I needed to know. If his return made me that happy, then I had my answer. I needed to see what might happen between us. His shoulders in his nice shirt called to me. I didn't want to touch his shirt and get grease on him, though.
Instead, I leaned forward to steal a kiss. "I don't want to get you dirty."
A wicked gleam in Nate's eye was my answer. "Then sit down," he said with a mischievous grin. "I have a solution to that."
He pointed to the chair behind my desk. I sat, wondering exactly what he was planning. Walking over to the shop door, he pressed the button beside it to close the main bay, then locked the small door and pulled down the blinds.
Turning back to me, he cocked his head at me. "Unzip your coveralls."
Oh, hell, yes. I grabbed the zipper, yanking it down quickly.
"Underwear down."
Slipping my thumbs under the waistband, I lowered them, sitting bare-assed on the wooden chair with a shiver. "The chair is cold."
Nate lowered himself in front of me, pushing my knees apart so he could settle between them. "You'll forget about the cold seat in a minute."
Taking my rock-hard dick in his hand, he smiled up at me. "You're ready for me."
"You tell me to strip, my dick gets hard," I replied. "Can't help it."
He wrapped his lips around my head, his tongue circling the tip. "Fuck," I whispered. "You're good at that."
With a hum of pleasure, he took me as far into his mouth as he could, then paused, breathing. I didn't touch him. He pushed down farther, my cock disappearing in his mouth. My balls tingled and I fought the urge to come in his mouth right away a
fter seeing him deep-throat me.
Before I thought, I grabbed for his shoulders. I needed to touch him. He lifted up off my dick and gave me a hard stare. "Don't touch."
Yanking my hands back, I was relieved to see I hadn't left any black smears on his shirt. "Sorry."
Nate reached up and grabbed both my hands, placing them on the arms of the chair. "Don't let go."
"You got it."
He went down on me again, slowly taking all of me. "You have a beautiful mouth, Nate," I said softly as he lifted his head, then went back down, his lips meeting the base of my dick as he swallowed me down. "I especially like seeing your lips wrapped around my cock."
His answering hum was glorious with my entire dick down his throat. My breathing intensified as he moved again, teasing me with his slow pace, up and down all the way.
"Nate," I moaned, tortured and loving it. My hands clamped down on the wood of the chair, aching to grab his hair.
He didn't respond, but he did speed up. My hips jerked as he let his teeth lightly graze my shaft as he came back up it. The next time he went down, he did it again, resulting in me letting out a little yelp. He moved back up, taking me out of his mouth. "You like the teeth?" he asked.
Nodding my head, I leaned over, capturing his mouth with mine before he could move. Carefully not moving my hands, I wrapped my tongue around his, but he pulled away. "Don't be greedy." He returned to my cock. "You'll get what you want eventually," he said before lowering his mouth on me again.
He was not wrong. This time he moved quickly, sucking, licking, and moving his hand to the rhythm of his mouth. My grip on the arms of the chair tightened as my orgasm built. "Nate," I whispered. "I'm going to come." I wanted to give him the option of me not coming in his mouth.