Finding Peace (Finding Series, Book 3) (3 page)

Luke knew it was fucked up to think of anything on the man as beautiful, especially his eyes, but it was even more fucked up that he’d hated seeing the flash of fear in Gray’s gaze after Gray had stepped away from him while he’d been examining the injury he’d inflicted. It wasn’t the first time Luke had seen that same expression but it was definitely the first time it had actually hurt.

“Sorry, it’s not much,” Gray said as he slid a sandwich piled high with turkey in front of Luke. “Haven’t had time to shop yet this week.” Gray’s eyes shifted from his to the dog that was laying quietly at Luke’s feet. “She have a name?” Gray asked as he began feeding the dog several slices of turkey.

Luke shook his head. “The piece of shit who was beating the hell out of her was calling her a worthless motherfucker so my guess is no, she doesn’t. At least not one she should be stuck with for the rest of her life.”

Gray’s eyes lifted to meet his and another strange ache went through Luke. What the hell was wrong with him? He snatched up the sandwich and took a bite in an effort to distract himself.

“She’s really not yours?” Gray asked.

Luke forced his eyes to the dog that was sitting politely at Gray’s feet and carefully taking the proffered food. “Nope. I was walking past this old house and heard her yelping. I went to check it out and saw some old guy beating her with a 2 x 4. Fucker had her tied to a tree so she couldn’t get away.” Luke dropped his hand to the dog’s head and stroked over it. “Always wanted a dog like this when I was a kid,” he mused as the shepherd leaned against his leg while still taking the turkey from Gray.

“Looks like you got your wish,” Gray said softly and Luke lifted his eyes to meet Gray’s. It took Luke a minute to find words. A flash of heat went down his spine and he actually had to break the eye contact.

“Right dog, wrong time,” he murmured. “You’ve got a nice place here. Dog like this could keep an eye on things.”

Several long seconds passed before he heard Gray answer. “Think on it,” he said gently and then his big hand was skimming over the dog’s muzzle, just inches from Luke’s fingers. “That dog you wanted as a kid – you have a name picked out?”

“Ripley.” At Gray’s look of confusion Luke said, “You know, that badass chick from the
Alien
movies.”

Gray shook his head. “Never saw them.”

“Not even the first one?”

“I wasn’t really a movie kind of kid. Books were more my thing.” Gray glanced at the dog and smiled. “Ripley. It works,” he added thoughtfully.

Luke forced his attention away from the warm smile that was still spread across Gray’s features. “You’re not eating?” he asked as he took another bite of his lunch.

Gray immediately went pale at the mention of food. “Uh, no,” he said quickly.

“You should try to eat something…toast or soup if you have it.”

Another shake of the head and then Gray closed his eyes. Luke quickly stood and put his sandwich on the kitchen counter so it would be out of Gray’s line of sight. “You okay?” he asked as he settled a hand on Gray’s shoulder. The other man’s whole body was drawn tight with tension but he managed a nod and Luke settled back in his seat and waited. It was several minutes before Gray finally opened his eyes.

“Answer me one thing,” Gray said and Luke stiffened but remained silent. “The gun…is it because you’re military or because you need it?”

Luke studied Gray for a moment and then said, “Something tells me you already know the answer.”

Gray was quiet for so long that Luke made a move to stand so he could gather his things to leave. But when Gray’s fingers closed around his wrist, he actually had to stifle a moan because he felt the touch everywhere.

“Just one more question,” Gray said softly.

Luke was still reeling from the fact that this man’s touch was fucking with his body so he just nodded.

“Will you please finish the bookshelf?”

***

“Gray.”

Gray opened his eyes as a heavy hand settled on his shoulder. It took him a moment to focus his gaze and when he did, he could see Luke’s dark eyes watching him with concern.

“Sorry,” Gray said as he struggled to sit up on the couch. “Guess I was more tired than I thought,” he mumbled as he tried to ignore the exhaustion that continued to seep through him.

“Drink this,” he heard Luke say a second before a bottle of water was thrust into his hand. The taste of metal immediately coated his tongue and he tried to hand the water back to Luke. “I’m okay.”

“Drink it,” Luke said again and Gray felt a shiver go through him at the rough order. It was on the tip of Gray’s tongue to argue but then he looked down and saw the blanket draped across his lap – the one that hadn’t been there when Gray had sat down on the couch to take a break from helping Luke construct the bookshelf. Not that he’d been helping much to begin with since he didn’t know the first thing about building anything and he’d ended up spending most of his time watching Luke’s powerful body flex and ripple as he’d painstakingly screwed the various pieces of wood together. It had been Luke who’d suggested he sit for a while and Gray could only assume it was because he’d started to look as off balance as he’d felt. The last thing he remembered was sinking into the smooth, soft cushions of the chocolate leather couch and watching Luke’s big hands smoothing over the first shelf he’d attached to the branches that made up the side and back of the bookshelf.

Gray twisted the cap off the bottle and nearly shook his head at how worn out he felt just from doing that. He’d been expecting some fatigue but what he was feeling was off the charts. As expected, his first instinct when the water hit the back of his throat was to spit it out because it tasted so wrong but he closed his eyes and forced down several swallows. At least his stomach didn’t protest and it was only that fact that had Gray sucking down a couple more pulls of the icy liquid before putting the cap back on the bottle. Luke, who was sitting on the coffee table in front of the couch, took the water from him and set it down on the end table.

“Keep drinking every few minutes. I’ll get dinner started.”

“Dinner?” Gray said in surprise and then he glanced out the window. Sure enough, it was pitch dark outside.

Luke stood and as soon as he stepped past the couch, Gray sucked in breath at the sight of the bookshelf that stood against the wall. “Luke, it’s amazing,” he said softly. The white bark stood in heavy contrast to the dark shelves and Gray struggled to his feet so he could get a closer look. A hand closed around his elbow to offer him support as he moved closer.

“Don’t touch the shelves. They’re still wet,” he heard Luke say as Gray ran his fingers over one of the branches. The piece of furniture was so incredibly different than what Gray usually preferred but he found himself unable to take his eyes off of it.

“How did you do this?”

Luke was still holding his arm and Gray was torn between wanting to move away and stay exactly where he was. Since he was afraid he’d fall on his face without Luke’s support, he didn’t move.

“Just did. I found the stain in your shed…I hope you don’t mind that I used it for this but I thought the darker shelves would look nice with the birch.”

Gray glanced up at Luke. “I have a shed?”

Luke chuckled and the delicious sound slid over Gray.

“Out back. I guess you haven’t lived here long?”

Gray shook his head and immediately regretted it because the move made him feel queasy. Luke must have sensed his discomfort because he led him back to the couch. “I bought this cabin a few years ago when I was looking for a place to get away to but this is the first time I’ve actually stayed here.”

“Get away from what?” Luke asked as he draped the blanket back over Gray’s lap.

“Life, I guess.”

“But you never used it till now? How come?”

“Life, I guess,” Gray said with a laugh.

“So you don’t live here full-time?”

“No. L.A. – Malibu actually. What about you? Where are you from?” The questions were reasonable ones but as soon as he saw Luke’s eyes drop, Gray knew they’d been the wrong ones. Of course the guy wasn’t interested in sharing that kind of information about himself. He was clearly running from some serious shit.

“Georgia,” Luke said softly. “Fort Benning.”

Gray was caught off guard by the admission but decided not to press his luck with any more personal questions. And it absolutely wasn’t because he wanted to reach out and run his fingers over Luke’s cheek in the hopes of wiping away the haunted look that had overtaken his features. He was saved from having to say anything at all when he heard his cell phone ringing.

“I’ll get it,” Luke said quickly and then he was striding across the room and pulling Gray’s phone from the desk drawer where he’d left it. He handed it to Gray and said, “I’m going to just go clean up outside.”

Gray watched him leave through the front door before he glanced down at his phone. Dread went through him as he let his finger hover over the answer button but as another wave of exhaustion hit him, he pushed the red button instead and then dropped the phone onto the coffee table. He leaned back against the couch and let his eyes settle on the beautiful piece of furniture as his thoughts drifted to the mysterious man who’d created it.

***

Stupid, stupid, stupid.
What the hell had possessed him to tell Gray where he was from? All it would take was a Google search of his first name and Fort Benning and Gray would know exactly who he was.

Luke let out another rough curse as he threw the remaining pieces of wood debris onto the pile of firewood. He stalked back to the shed to grab the last few pieces of leftover wood and returned a moment later. His hands full, he came to a stop when he saw Gray watching him with concern.

“I heard something hit the house,” Gray said quietly as he glanced at the pile of wood that had been neatly stacked against the side of the house but now had several pieces strewn all over the ground.

“Sorry,” Luke mumbled as he placed the wood in his arms on the pile and then started reaching for the loose pieces. Gray helped him but Luke could see he was still unsteady on his feet and said, “Leave it. I’ll take care of it.”

Gray ignored him and continued to work but his moves were slow and Luke had nearly all the wood cleaned up by the time Gray reached for his third piece. Luke took it from him and put it on the pile.

“You’re bleeding,” he heard Gray whisper. “Again,” he added and Luke dropped his eyes to his side and saw that blood was seeping through his shirt.

“It’s nothing,” Luke muttered.

“Come inside, let me take a look,” Gray said but he didn’t give Luke a chance to respond – he just turned and headed back into the cabin.

Luke entered the cabin and saw that Gray had pulled a kitchen chair away from the table. Although Gray wasn’t around, Luke understood the message and dropped down into the chair and waited. Gray was back within a couple of minutes, his hands full of bandages and gauze.

Gray pulled out a chair and sat across from Luke. “Show me,” he said as his eyes met Luke’s. Something about the way Gray looked at him had Luke lifting his shirt. He kept his eyes on Gray as the other man began cleaning the injury and was surprised that not only was Gray not peppering him with questions about the wound, he wasn’t flinching in the least as he mopped up the blood.

“Looks like you tore some stitches,” Gray said.

Luke forced himself to look down and felt a sharp stab of something that wasn’t pain go through him when Gray’s thumb gently probed at the wound.

“I’m left handed so it’s hard for me to reach that part,” Luke said.

Gray’s eyes lifted in surprise. “You stitched yourself up?”

Luke only nodded and he could see Gray’s brain working but he still didn’t ask the questions he clearly wanted to. “Do you think you could put a couple in there?” Luke asked.

Gray went pale at that but he hesitated for only a moment before he nodded. “If you tell me what to do.”

“My kit’s in my bag,” Luke said as he glanced at the duffle sitting next to the couch.

Instead of looking through it, Gray brought the whole bag over and carefully settled it on Luke’s lap. It took just a few seconds to locate his emergency medical kit. “It needs to be cleaned first.”

Luke watched Gray intently as he got up to wash his hands and then prepare what he would need for the job. As exhausted as Gray looked, he remained steady on his feet and didn’t actually look like he was going to pass out until Luke handed him the curved needle he would need to apply the stitches. By the time he explained the process, Gray had gone even paler than he already was.

“Gray, don’t worry about it. I can manage-” Luke finally said as he reached for the needle.

“No, I’m okay,” Gray said firmly and he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Just…just distract me, okay?”

It was on the tip of Luke’s tongue to say that being distracted was the last thing Gray should be but when he saw the fear in Gray’s eyes, he said, “Why books?”

“What?”

“You said you liked books instead of movies as a kid. Why?”

Gray’s eyes shifted to his briefly but then he returned his attention to Luke’s wound and forced the needle through Luke’s skin. It hurt like hell but Luke managed to remain silent and Gray’s look of concern had him sending the man a quick nod to indicate he was okay.