Carnal Compromise (9 page)

She’d just dropped the handful of trash into the can under the kitchen sink when Brent’s diesel roared up outside. Before she could make tracks for the bunkroom, the door opened and a stiff westerly wind blew Joe in. He didn’t take his eyes off her as he pulled the door shut behind him.

“AJ,” he said tentatively, “what are you doing in here?”

“Waiting for you guys,” she answered without thinking, drawing the quilt around her defensively.
Way to go, AJ—make them feel bad and show them how pathetic you are at the same time.

Joe frowned and glanced at the wall clock. “Where’s Brent?”

“He’s not with you?” When he shook his head, AJ frowned, too. “He called and said he’d be another hour or so finishing up that last field and then he’d ride the ATV here. I thought he’d stopped off for a drink or something.”

“Shit.” He pulled out his cell phone and hit Brent’s speed dial, then snapped it shut again a few seconds later. “He was alone?”

AJ’s stomach contracted. “Yes. Do you think something’s wrong? Crap, I should have gone out with him.”

“Yeah, you should,” he bit out.

Her throat closed and her nose stung with tears but she managed not to flinch. Joe was absolutely right—she’d spent the whole evening primping and feeling sorry for herself while Brent was out coping with some kind of emergency by himself.

God, talk about self-absorbed.

She was just opening her mouth to apologize when he said, “I’m gonna go check on him.”

Closing her mouth again, she turned and headed for their bedroom. “I’m coming, too,” she tossed over her shoulder.

“AJ—” When she paused and looked at him, he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No, you were right. I should have at least checked on him.”

At the high whine of the ATV’s engine outside, Joe’s body relaxed visibly. “Thank God.” He pushed open the door to watch Brent drive up.

That’s when it dawned on her how much he cared. He might not want admit it, even to himself, but Joe Remke loved Brent Andersen every bit as much as Brent, however unwillingly, loved him. Which cast an entirely new light on the cheerful way he’d tolerated Brent’s refusals before last night. It was almost as though on some level he hadn’t really wanted Brent to give in.

Which was just…brain-spraining.

Already on shaky emotional ground and determined to give them some time alone, she yawned and pulled the quilt tighter around her shoulders.

“I’m really tired,” she said, heading for the bunkroom. “I’ll see you guys in the morning.”

Shutting the door, she crawled into her bunk, still wrapped in the afghan. Hopefully she’d be asleep before he came in—
if
he came in. He’d shown more genuine emotion in the last few minutes than she’d ever seen from him. Maybe this scare was the catalyst he needed to finally confront his own fears, whatever they were, and open himself emotionally to Brent.

No two ways about it, Joe Remke was a man filled with fear. He’d probably beat the shit out of anyone who said so to his face, but he was scared to death of something. She’d thought at first it might be the stigma attached to homosexuality in rural America, but now that she knew them better, that theory just didn’t hold any water. His secrets felt less societal than personal.

Hell, why did she even care if they got in touch with their emotions and learned to communicate and overcame whatever obstacles were keeping them apart? As soon as that happened, they’d either let her down gently, which would be humiliating, or she’d become the awkward third wheel, which would be even worse. Either way, she’d have to hit the road and find another job because she’d already had more than her fill of feeling inadequate and unwanted.

Rolling over to face the wall, she pulled the blankets up over her ears with another shuddering sigh. Sleep would probably be a long time coming tonight.

Watching Brent trudge over the gravel, clearly filthy, frustrated and exhausted, Joe felt like the biggest piece of shit on earth. He’d just assumed Brent and AJ were taking advantage of his absence and spending some quality time together. Instead, AJ had spent the evening assuming the same thing about the two of them while Brent was out working, and probably fixing some kind of equipment breakdown, by himself.

All because Joe had been too chickenshit to come home. How could he have screwed things up so badly?

He held the door open and Brent brushed by him.

“Nice cologne,” Brent said flatly, not looking at him. “Anyone I know?”

“No,” Joe replied, his tone every bit as flat.

“Were you waiting up for me?”

Joe’s stomach burned. “I just got in and AJ told me you were still out in the field. When you didn’t answer your phone, I thought I’d better go check on you.”

Brent shrugged out of his coat and hung it and his cap on the hook by the door. Then he pulled out his cell phone and frowned. “I didn’t hear it ring.”

“I just called.” It was impossible to hear even the loudest cell phone over the roar of the four-wheeler.

“Ah. Well, thanks for worrying about me.”

Joe hung up his own coat and cap. “What happened?”

“Ran over some wire on the last round. The fence must have washed out over the summer or something.” He scrubbed his hands over his head tiredly. “It took a couple of hours to pull it all off the reel and get it wound up and out of the way.”

“You should have called me.”

Brent shrugged. “I handled it.”

Joe tensed with frustration. Brent shouldn’t have
had
to handle it, at least not alone, and he wouldn’t have if things hadn’t gotten so fucked up between them. He would have called, knowing Joe would drop everything to go help him. Hell, he wouldn’t have had to call because they’d have been out there together, the way they always were. They almost always left the field together.

Instead, Joe had been out trolling for a casual lay just to prove that he still could—a plan that had now backfired in ways too numerous and uncomfortable to think about.

Brent went to the sink and got a drink of water and then turned off the kitchen light. “Well, I’m going to shower and hit the sack.”

“You haven’t asked about AJ.”

He paused in the doorway. “What about her?”

“She was worried about you, too.”

Brent glanced toward the closed bunkroom door. “She must not have been too worried if she’s asleep.”

Joe wandered closer to him, sticking his thumbs in his jeans pockets. “She just went to bed.”

“I called and told her where I was.”

“Well, you shouldn’t have been out there alone and you know it, especially so late at night. You could have had an accident and no one would have been there to help you or call an ambulance.” He sighed heavily. “I kind of jumped down her throat about not checking on you, even though it was my fault.”

“I hope you apologized, because that’s about the stupidest line of bullshit I ever heard. I’m forty-two years old, Joe—old enough to work late all by myself now.”

“I should have been with you.”

Brent leveled a penetrating look at him. “One of these days we need to have a long talk about your overdeveloped sense of responsibility. But right now we both need sleep if we’re going to get loaded and out of here in the morning.”

He was right, but Joe still hesitated. It felt like there were things they needed to get straight, but he had no idea how in the hell to do it without getting sucked even deeper into something he’d never intended.

“Go to bed, Joe,” Brent said in a resigned tone. “Whatever it is, it’ll wait ’til tomorrow.”

Chapter Seven

Brent had hoped the cold light of a November morning would snap him out of the funk he’d fallen into last night, but he still felt like a pile of dried-up dog shit the whole time they loaded the equipment onto the flatbeds. It didn’t help that both Joe and AJ were acting as distant as he was, though
why
was a mystery he didn’t care enough to solve at the moment.

Like either of them had any right to be pissed at him, he groused as he tightened the straps lashing down one of the corn heads. He was the one who’d worked his ass off long after quitting time while AJ had a pleasant evening at home and Joe was out screwing some stranger.

He cranked the winch bar viciously and then swore a blue streak when it slipped and he banged his knuckles on the trailer. Taking a walk around the truck, he shook out his throbbing fingers and gave himself a mental dressing down. Dammit, he had to stop thinking about this, had to stop obsessing over the cloud of whiskey, cigarette smoke and men’s cologne clinging to Joe when he got home last night or he’d cause a major accident.

So Joe got laid. Again. So what? Had he really expected anything else?

He let loose a tired sigh as he picked the winch bar up off the gravel and started tightening again. The sad fact was, yes, for some stupid reason he
had
expected something else, and that was what was driving him so crazy right now. Joe wasn’t the one who’d changed, who’d acted any different than he ever had. It was Brent who’d changed the rules of the game by giving up a big chunk of his long-held ground and then expecting things to be different because of it.

See, this was why he’d never given an inch before when Joe made a play for him and why he should have continued to hold him off until the end of time. Sex was nothing but a game to Joe—or a convenient tool for detaching himself from anyone he might actually care about. Or both.

Whichever it happened to be at any given moment, the end result was always the same, and frankly, Brent just didn’t give a shit anymore. For once, he was actually looking forward to the coming winter. He just didn’t have the stomach for the kind of emotional fucking over that came with getting close to Joe Remke.

A hand settled on his shoulder. “Are you okay?”

AJ.
He paused. “Just banged my knuckles. They’re fine.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about,” she said softly. “I’m guessing you two didn’t work things out last night.”

“No.” He looked out over the corn stubble.

“I’m sorry.”

Brent steeled himself and he moved on to the next strap. AJ’s quiet sympathy was a balm to his wounded feelings, but it was like sticking a Band-Aid on a stab wound—one false move and his grief and rage over Joe would come gushing out all over some innocent bystander.

Swallowing the acid taste in his throat, he looked at her and said, “I’m fine.” Then he had to go and add, “But if I were you, I wouldn’t offer to let Joe touch you without a condom again.”

The raw pain in Brent’s eyes took her breath away.

Oh God, please tell me Joe didn’t go and do something stupid last night.
Surely he hadn’t been that flipped out by what happened between them. Hell, he was the one who’d controlled the whole situation from beginning to end, and
he
was the one who’d walked out as if neither she nor Brent meant anything to him.

But now that she thought about it, his reactions
had
seemed pretty extreme last night. Good Lord, no wonder he’d felt guilty about not being with Brent—he’d been with someone else.

The bastard. And he’d had the nerve to get on
her
ass about abandoning Brent!

AJ held out her hand. “Give me the winch bar.”

Brent didn’t move. “Why?”

“I need it to deliver a message to that fucked-up son of a bitch.”

He tried to frown at her but reluctant amusement spoiled the effect. “I’m afraid I’ll have to veto that plan—for now. After the season’s over, he’s all yours.”

“What makes you think I’ll want his skanky ass?”

Brent finally laughed under his breath and slanted a reproachful look at her. “AJ, AJ, why do you wanna go and spoil my shitty mood?”

“Because your shitty mood is everybody’s shitty mood?” she said lightly.

He sobered. “It shouldn’t be. That’s why I stayed out alone last night—I wasn’t fit company for anyone. Then I ran over a bunch of wire and spent a couple of hours getting it loose from the reel. Be glad you weren’t there to see me vent my spleen on the header,” he added with a small grin. “I think I kicked a couple more dents in it. But I’m sorry I didn’t call you again. Joe said you’d waited up.”

“Whoa, he really spread the guilt around last night, didn’t he?”

“Yeah, he told me he came down on you, too, and I’ll tell you what I told him—I’m a big boy and I know how to use the phone if I need help.” He slanted one dark blond brow. “Got it?”

“Got it,” she answered with a precise nod, feeling as though a lead weight had been lifted from her chest.

Then he smiled. “I missed you last night.”

Shit. Her helpless heart started beating a crazy rhythm and she ordered it to calm down. Apparently it couldn’t differentiate between a romantic declaration and casual affection.

Her brain, fortunately, could.

“I’ll bet you did,” she managed to say with a sassy grin. “Pulling wire off the reel is a bitch when you’re by yourself.”

His smile faded and they looked at each other for a long, awkward minute. “Well, I guess we’d better get back at it or we’ll never make it out of town.”

“God forbid,” AJ joked. Then she stuck her hands in her coat pockets to keep from holding an L to her forehead as she walked away. God, she was such a loser! Obviously she’d forgotten everything she ever knew about flirting with men.

“Hey, AJ…”

She froze and then turned her head to look back. “Yeah?”

“Thanks for making me laugh. I feel a lot better.”

Well, that was better than nothing. She smiled at him. “I’m glad.”

By the time they pulled up in front of the camper that evening, Joe had had a bellyful of AJ’s snit. He’d been prepared for a degree of coolness from both her and Brent after the way he left them last night, and aside from a small twinge in his gut, it hadn’t bothered him when they both kept their distance this morning. That had been his goal, after all—maintaining some distance between them. It wasn’t a pleasant job but it had to be done. After a day or two, their annoyance would fade and things would gradually get back to normal.