Boyfriend for Rent (5 page)

“Oh, thank you.”

“You’ve got a little…” Hunter made a motion at his face.

Casey gave him a puzzled look.

Hunter sighed, a sound that managed to be both amused and exasperated at the same time. He crossed to Casey in a few long strides. Casey thought he probably should’ve stepped back, but he was up against the counter, and then Hunter was right in his personal space, so close that Casey could smell the sawdust that told him Hunter had been cutting up the tree that had fallen in the storm last night.

“You have flour on your face,” Hunter said.

To Casey’s complete and utter astonishment, Hunter reached out and wiped his thumb across Casey’s cheek. Casey’s skin burned as Hunter dropped his hand and it suddenly became hard to breathe.

Just then, the oven beeped, signaling that the chicken was done. Casey wasn’t sure if he should be disappointed or relieved as he moved to the oven to retrieve the food.

“I’m gonna go get cleaned up,” Hunter said.

Casey nodded, not trusting himself to speak, or even look. Definitely not normal. And things just kept getting worse.

The more Casey was around Hunter, the more he wanted to be—needed to be. It was building into more than just a crush or even just a friendship. No
: Casey was falling for him, and the more he tried to stop it, the more the feelings came rushing in like a storm so strong, nothing could stop it.

There was something about Hunter that he couldn’t get enough of. Maybe it was his strong, quiet smolder
; maybe it was his confidence and how comfortable he seemed in his own rugged skin.

His killer looks and the way he handled himself didn’t hurt
, but it was more than that.  Hunter didn’t give a fuck what people thought of him, and he was willing to stand up for and fight for anyone he cared about. There was something about Hunter that told Casey if he ever needed someone to stick up for him, even in public, it wouldn’t be McDermott riding to the rescue.

It’d be Hunter.

What he didn’t realize was that Hunter was having similar issues trying to figure out exactly what this was between himself and Casey. He hadn’t really been surprised when Casey had come out, and other than the honesty factor, it really didn’t matter to him. One of his best friends growing up had been gay. The thing that was causing Hunter to lose sleep was that he didn’t understand this connection he was feeling: this desire to spend time with Casey, to protect him. The flare of anger that had gone through him when Casey had talked about his ex had been easy to explain away as Hunter’s usual problem with anyone who treated good people like shit. The problem was, it didn’t explain why Hunter didn’t just want to beat the shit out of this McDermott asshole, but wanted to shake the man and tell him how stupid he was for losing someone as great as Casey. It was because they were friends, he tried telling himself. Casey was a good guy. He worked hard, even if he still was a bit of a city boy when it came to some stuff, and he could cook like no one else. Hunter just wasn’t sure if that explanation was going to be good enough for long.

_________ o _________

CHAPTER 14

Casey took a deep breath and looked down at his phone. He’d been at the farmhouse for over two weeks and had been putting this off just as long. It was the longest he’d ever gone without speaking to his mother, and he knew if he ducked her calls any longer, she’d really start to worry, and that wouldn’t be good for her health.

He tapped her name on the screen and took a deep breath that did nothing to calm his nerves. Fortunately, he’d had years of practice pretending to be something he
wasn’t. At the moment, it was happy.

“Mom?”

“Casey!”

The joy in her voice made Casey feel both relieved and guilty. He hadn’t heard his mother sound that good in months. He smiled despite his nerves. “Hey, Mom. You sound good.” She laughed and the sound did more for him than anything else had in a long time.

“I got some of those fancy beans you wanted…” Hunter’s voice trailed off and he raised a hand in apology.

Well, almost anything, Casey amended.
Just looking at Hunter made Casey feel better, safer. He watched the other man disappear into the kitchen while his mother filled him in on all she’d been doing since they’d last talked. This part was what he liked: the listening. He loved his mother and hearing about her life. No, the part he was dreading was coming up next, when the story stopped and the questions began. There was never any judgement or disappointment on her part, but Casey always ended these calls with a sick feeling the pit of his stomach and a cloud of depression that stayed with him for hours. He had a feeling this was going to be so much worse than usual. Not only did he have to keep up his lie about still having a job, but he couldn’t bring himself to tell her that he also didn’t have a boyfriend or a home. She hadn’t known McDermott’s name, but he’d told her as much as he’d been able to, and she’d been happy for him. So, as much as he hated doing it, he lied to her, telling her how great everything was going, all the while, the knot in his stomach was growing.

When he heard her voice growing tired, he said his goodbye and promised to call her again soon. He ended the call and set the phone aside. He buried his face in his hands, not looking up even when he heard Hunter’s footsteps. The couch dipped as the other man sat down, but Casey couldn’t even manage a glance. It was always like this after talking to her. He hated himself for lying to her, for betraying her trust, for not being the man she thought he was, the man she deserved. His brother never would’ve treated her this wa
y.

“I heard what you were sayin’ to your mom,” Hunter said.

Casey turned his head, not bothering to wipe away the tears that were burning in his eyes. “Please don’t lecture me about lying. I don’t think I could take it.”

“Wasn’t gonna lecture you.” Hunter didn’t seem offended by the assumption. The
concern in his eyes was clear. “I was gonna ask why you felt like you had to lie in the first place. Sounds to me like she’s the type of woman who’d love you no matter what.”

“She is!” Casey snapped, then immediately felt bad. “Sorry. It’s not because I’m worried my mom wouldn’t love me if I told her about everything that’s happened.”

Hunter didn’t say anything, just looked at Casey and waited.

Casey looked down at his hands. McDermott had never wanted to hear him talk about this. The weight of a hand on his shoulder shocked his head up. Hunter’s cheek turned red under his beard, but he didn’t take his hand away, not for a few more seconds.

“You can talk to me,” he said. “I got you.”

Hunter’s words sent a sliver of heat through Casey, cracking the wall he’d erected. He opened his mouth, and everything poured out in a great rush. “I had an older brother
, Stephen. He was eight years older than me and was just amazing. My dad left right after I was born, but I never missed out on anything because Stephen was always there for me. He watched out for me, and protected me as much as he could. On September eleventh, he was nineteen and a sophomore in college, studying medicine. He flew across the country as soon as the airports reopened, and spent a month in New York doing whatever he could. Two days after he came home, he enlisted in the army.” Casey swallowed hard around the lump that had formed in his throat. He turned away from Hunter, unable to continue if he kept looking at those compassionate blue eyes. “He did two tours over the next four years, and was going to re-enlist when he got back from the last one, but he never got the chance. Roadside bomb, two days before he was scheduled to fly out. He and six other soldiers were delivering medical supplies to a village. None of them made it back.”

“I’m sorry about your brother,” Hunter said. “But I don’t understand what that has to do with you lying to your mom.”

Casey figured he’d already gone this far. He might as well finish it. Besides, it felt better than he’d thought it would, sharing this. “I was fifteen when Stephen died, and he left some pretty big shoes to fill. Mom had always doted on us differently, Stephen being the oldest and me being the baby; but once he was gone, it was like I had to be enough for both of us. I had to be everything he was as well as everything I was supposed to be. But it wasn’t Mom who expected it of me. It was me.” He glanced at Hunter. “I can’t tell her that I’ve lost everything and the only reason I’m not sleeping on the streets is because someone took pity on me.”

“Hey.” Hunter gave Casey a little shake. “I don’t pity nobody. There’s a difference between sympathy and knowing someone needs help and pitying them. You ain’t here outta pity.”

Casey’s heart gave a funny little thump and he managed a wobbly smile.

“‘Sides,” Hunter continued
, “you’ve still got two weeks before you need to get your shit together. You’ve come pretty far since you moved in. I got all the confidence in the world that you’re gonna be just fine.”

Casey’s stomach dropped and he tried not to let his sudden despair show on his face. Right. Two weeks to figure out how to contribute four hundred
and fifty dollars.

He was so screwed.

_________ o _________

CHAPTER 15

Casey wiped the back of his hand across his forehead and squinted up at the bright spring sun. In the three weeks since he’d moved in, the weather had gone from shivering cold to blazing sunlight. Apparently now that all of the snow had melted and everything frozen was thawing, it was time to start repairing all of the things that had gone wrong over the winter. That was definitely something Casey had never thought about when he’d daydreamed about living in the country with McDermott. The priest could barely use a screwdriver and Casey wasn’t any better.

“You sure you want to do this?” Hunter looked down at Casey from where he was standing on the ladder.

“Yes.” Casey kept his voice firm as he tightened his grip on his hammer.

Some of the shutters had been knocked loose over the last couple months, so when Hunter had mentioned he was going out to nail them back into place, Casey had seized the opportunity. What better way to show that he was self-sufficient than to know how to do work around the house? He’d already learned how to groom Dollie and was actually quite fond of the horse. Granted, he wasn’t fond of the smell when Hunter had him helping muck out the stall last week, but there was something to be said about the physical labor. Casey had always been slender, but over the last couple weeks, he’d noticed that his body didn’t seem as soft as it had before. There was a hardness to him, and definition to his muscles. He was nowhere near as strong as Hunter, but he was secretly pleased with how his physique had changed. By the time his high school reunion rolled around, he wouldn’t look like the same skinny, scared kid who’d been the butt of everyone’s jokes.

“You’re gonna want to pay attention when you’re swinging that hammer.” Hunter sounded mildly amused.

Casey nodded. Right. Concentrate. He’d thought he’d picked something easy to start with, but it turned out that getting a nail to go straight into something wasn’t as easy as it looked. He got the first two in fine, but just as he was getting ready to swing for the third nail, he happened to see movement out of the corner of his eye. Hunter had lifted his shirt to use the bottom of it to wipe off his face, exposing thick, corded muscle and that tattoo. Casey had the sudden urge to run his tongue across…

Pain exploded through his thumb and he shrieked, dropping the hammer. He swore, shaking his hand as tears sprung to his eyes. He didn’t realize Hunter was down off the ladder until an arm went around his shoulders. If he hadn’t been in so much pain, he would’ve taken the time to better appreciate the gesture, but as it was, he just let Hunter lead him into the house.

“I got you,” Hunter said as he opened the screen door. “It’s gonna be okay. I got you.”

Casey sank into the chair, biting his bottom lip as he struggled to keep from actually crying. He watched Hunter walk to the freezer and take out a handful of ice. A moment later, Hunter was back at the table, the ice wrapped in a towel.

“Here.” Hunter reached for Casey’s injured hand.

Casey flinched when Hunter’s rough fingers brushed his skin, but it wasn’t from pain. He forced himself to focus on the hurt rather than the pleasant heat that was traveling across his nerves from the place where Hunter touched him. Then the cold from the ice pack began to seep into his hand, bringing with it some relief.

“I doubt you broke anything,” Hunter said. He’d retracted his hand, allowing Casey to hold the pack in place. “But that nail might come off. Won’t be able to say for certain just yet.”

Casey nodded. Now that the pain was fading to a dull throbbing, embarrassment
was creeping in. What had he been thinking?

“Everybody’s banged their thumb at least once,” Hunter said, the tone of his voice saying that he’d guessed what Casey was thinking. “It’s kind of a rite of passage.”

“Easy for you to say,” Casey said. “You were probably five when you did it. Not twenty-five. It’s humiliating not to be able to do something a child can do.”

Hunter gave Casey a puzzled look. “You think this stuff just came easy for me?”