Lost Along the Way (15 page)

But it was too much. Too strong. Too soon. And so I said nothing. I kissed him instead, letting the sweet warmth of his mouth mix with the coolness of the rain, savoring everything about the moment. The excitement. The gentle eroticism and the thrill. The unabashed joy.

Joy.
That was what I’d lost: the ability to find pure happiness in something as simple as the rain. I’d worried about proving myself—to my parents and to myself and to the thousands of people tuning in every single day to hear about the weather—but in the process, I’d forgotten my own joy mattered. I had just as much of a right to happiness as anybody. And as long as I was doing what I loved, time could never be wasted. And right then the thing I loved most was being with him.

I broke our kiss to stare down into Landon’s dark eyes. “I don’t want to go back to Denver.”

He smiled and put his arms around my neck. “I don’t want you to go back either.”

But his tone was light—almost joking—and I knew he didn’t understand. “I’m serious. I want to move here. I want to say to hell with everything in Denver and stay here, so I can be with you.”

His smile faded into something less vibrant. Something that hinted at sadness.

“I’m freaking you out, aren’t I? I’m being too intense, too soon.”

“No.” He shook his head and settled closer against me. Water ran from his hair, down his cheeks, into the thick stubble on his jaw. “It’s not that, it’s just….”

“What?”

“What if this isn’t real? What if it’s all Granny B’s magic? What if you aren’t actually feeling what you think you’re feeling? What if it all goes away as soon as you’re back home?”

“That won’t happen.”

He pulled back a bit to meet my gaze. “But you
are
going back to Denver.”

My heart fell a bit at the thought, but I had a job in Denver. And a house. And an ex-boyfriend who was probably still occupying said house. “I have to.”

“I know. And I understand. But what if, once you’re there, this isn’t what you want anymore?”

It was a valid question, and yet I knew in my heart it was moot. “What if it is? What if I want you more than ever?”

He smiled shyly, biting his lip. It was such a sweet expression, oddly out of place on his rugged, unshaven, rain-soaked face. “I think I’d like that.”

“Then we’ll consider it a test. I’ll go back to Denver. I won’t quit my job quite yet, and you won’t cook anything while I’m gone, and we’ll see where things stand.”

“Okay.”

“How long? A week?”

“Too short.”

“A month?”

He shook his head emphatically. “Too long!”

“Two weeks?”

He smiled and rose on his toes to kiss me. “Just right.”

We drove home in silence. The cab of Landon’s pickup was too hot, the air thick with things we didn’t know how to say, yet beneath it ran a heavy undercurrent of arousal that was impossible to deny. We barely made it through my front door before he kissed me, and then we were struggling with clothes, gasping for breath, stumbling down the hall.

This time he took control. He lowered me to the bed before gently urging me to turn onto my stomach. He rolled a condom on, and I shivered, suddenly afraid and unsure. I wanted him, and yet it’d been so long since I’d done this for anybody but Chase.

Landon sensed my hesitation. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.” And I twisted around to kiss him, to try to show him how sure I was. “But….”

“I understand.” He smiled at me, rubbing my shoulder. “We can go as slow as you want. Just tell me when you’re ready.”

It didn’t take as long as I’d feared. I’d worried thoughts of Chase would intrude, especially with Landon behind me, where I couldn’t see his face. But everything was different. He was solid and heavy on my back. His chest hair whispered against my naked flesh as he moved on me, his thick stubble scraping my shoulder. The deep coarseness of his whispers made me shiver. His smell—sweat and metal, a dab of cologne, a lingering trace of sugar, and a hint of the deep muskiness of his sex—made me weak. He rubbed my back, kissed my neck, caressed between my legs until I was trembling in eagerness, practically crying with need.

Until I gasped out, “Now!”

He pushed slowly inside of me and I moaned at the way he filled me. At the knowledge that I was his completely. I lay there beneath him, lost in pleasure, drowning in a sea of emotions while he made love to me, his thrusts slow and sure and deep, his hands gentle on my hips, his low, frantic moans warming my ear. I wanted this. I needed it. I spread my legs wide and let him have me. His touch was exquisite, awakening feelings I’d long since forgotten. Arousing passions I hadn’t felt in years. I felt vulnerable, yet alive. More exposed than I had been in half a lifetime, and yet there was an intimacy between us that defied comprehension. Maybe it was magic. Maybe it was love. I hardly cared. It was euphoric. It left me weak and shaking, blinking away tears in the wake of my orgasm, giddy with happiness, yet humbled, as if I’d glimpsed something holy.

Still, my real life loomed in the all-too-near future, a hundred and thirty miles of interstate between us. I didn’t want to face it. I lingered in Landon’s arms too long. I’d be driving through the night and barely get three hours of sleep, but I couldn’t stand to leave. When I finally dressed and kissed Landon good-bye, I saw the doubt in his eyes.

“I’ll be back,” I told him. “I prom—”

He kissed me, hard and fast, to still my lips. “Don’t make promises you may have to break. I don’t want you coming back out of some sense of obligation.”

“Fair enough.”

He put Granny B’s cookbook into my hands, the loose page he’d torn from it sitting on top. “Take it.”

“Why?”

“Because if you don’t, I’ll give in to temptation. I’ll end up baking fifteen pans of that damn bread.”

I kissed him one last time, savoring the softness of his lips and the roughness of his beard beneath my fingers. “We can bake it together once I’m home.”

D
ESPITE
ALL
of my surety when I left Laramie, I had two and a half hours to think on the way home, and the closer I drew to the bright lights of Denver, the crazier it all seemed.

Was I really going to quit my job of eleven years and sell my house?

Maybe.

Although Chase and I had picked the house out together, it was 100 percent mine legally. That year Chase had lost his job and gone back to school. He’d had too much debt, zero steady income, and terrible credit to boot. It had been easier to secure the loan for the house on my own. At the time it had felt like a betrayal, buying the home we were to live in together without him having an equal share. Now it felt like providence. He’d have no legal leverage to stop me from selling, although the daunting task of sorting and packing everything, dividing our possessions and clearing the Denver house of years’ worth of accumulated junk was enough to make me groan.

And once that was done? My only option was to move into my parents’ junk-strewn home and live off my savings. That wouldn’t last me long. Even if I managed to sell my house in Westminster right away, I’d need a job. It’d taken me years to get where I was with the Denver station. Chances of finding a comparable job in southern Wyoming were practically nonexistent.

And of course, as impossible as it all sounded, dealing with two houses and my lack of income was the easy part. The hard part would be Chase. I hoped he’d be gone when I got home, as I’d requested, but the closer I drew to my driveway, the surer I became that he’d be right where I left him.

Sure enough, when I pulled into the driveway at almost two o’clock in the morning, his car was parked on the other side. I couldn’t avoid him forever, no matter how much I might have wanted to. I sighed, steeling myself for whatever was to come.

I let myself into the house as quietly as I could, but Chase had always been a light sleeper. Or maybe he’d been awake all along. He came out of the bedroom wearing only pajama bottoms, his dark blond hair slightly tousled. No matter what had passed between us, we’d been lovers for fifteen years. I knew him well, and the relief I saw on his face was completely genuine.

“Thank God,” he breathed, wrapping me in a tight hug. “I’ve been worried sick. Where have you been?”

“In Laramie.”

He pulled back to look at me but didn’t release me. We were nearly the same height. He put his hand against my cheek. “I know you’re furious at me, but would it have killed you to let me know you were safe? I’ve been trying to call you all week.”

I blinked in confusion, wondering why the phone hadn’t ever rung, then remembered I’d turned off my cell phone and disconnected my parents’ landline. I realized with a bit of a start I hadn’t even checked my e-mail once while I’d been in Laramie. I hadn’t checked any of my usual weather sites, either. I’d been completely disconnected from every aspect of my normal life.

Damn, it had felt good.

He smiled weakly at me, still not moving away. I knew he was struggling not to cry. “You left so late, and you were so upset. I kept imagining the worst. I nearly called and reported you missing, but I knew the cops would just laugh at the overwrought gay boy.”

“I’m sorry. I forgot to turn my phone back on.”

He nodded, staring down at his pale bare toes on our cream-colored shag. “I assume you have to work in a few hours?”

“I do.”

“Then we’ll leave it all for tomorrow.” He slipped his fingers into mine and glanced up at me hesitantly, a naked plea in his eyes. “Come to bed? Please?”

I hesitated. The thought of my own bed was tempting, and I knew I should try to rest. Five o’clock would come way too soon, but I wasn’t sure I’d be able to sleep anyway, and the idea of sharing a bed with Chase again was disconcerting. How easy would it be to fall back into the familiar? To let him lure me into something I’d eventually regret?

Of course there was always a chance I wouldn’t regret it at all. I’d always thought of Chase as my soul mate. I’d assumed we’d be together forever. Maybe we really did belong together. Maybe it was crazy to throw away fifteen years based on a single passion-filled weekend with a man I barely knew. Maybe Chase really did deserve another chance.

“Daniel,” he whispered, moving closer and sliding one arm around my waist. His lips brushed my ear. “I’ve missed you so much. I know you’re angry, but I swear to you, I’ll do anything to fix this. I’ve never stopped loving you.”

They were exactly the words I needed to hear, and yet it wasn’t enough. My heart remained cold and resolved. The memory of Landon waiting for me back in Laramie was like a beacon, reminding me what true joy could feel like.

“It’s late,” I said, disentangling myself from his arms. I saw his disappointment and the single tear sliding down his cheek. I felt his pain as deeply as my own, but sex wouldn’t cure either of our wounds. No matter what happened—whether I left him or whether we reconciled—it had to come from the heart, not from the loins. “I’ll sleep in the guest room tonight.”

As I’d predicted, my 5:00 a.m. alarm was brutal, and my day didn’t improve from there. I had almost a week’s worth of e-mail, memos, and weather updates to sort through, new data to reconcile, and a none-to-pleased boss, all on less than three hours of sleep.

“I can’t really do anything about those bags under your eyes,” the makeup girl said apologetically.

I didn’t have the energy to tell her I didn’t care.

I worked three hours past my normal quitting time and stumbled home in a daze. Chase took pity on me. He didn’t say a word. He simply put a plate of spaghetti and meatballs in front of me, which I ate without tasting, then let me stagger into the guest bedroom where I fell into bed and slept straight through until the next morning.

He was up early enough to make me breakfast on Tuesday, and had dinner waiting again that night. I thought for sure he’d try to get me to discuss our relationship after we ate, but he didn’t. For the next few days, we teetered between awkward politeness and a sad shadow of our former companionship. He seemed determined to be a perfect mate—attentive and complimentary—while granting me whatever barriers I chose to put between us. He asked about my day. He packed me lunches. He even commented on my forecasts. He hadn’t watched them regularly in years, but now he made sure to catch every one. I felt as if I spent each day with a lump in my throat from the moment I woke until I fell asleep at night. Part of me wanted to give in. To let him lead me to our bedroom. To hold him and cry with him and let him promise me things would be better from now on, but my heart remained stone. It wasn’t as if I was completely unmoved. I appreciated the effort he was making. I even felt the pain he tried to hide. And yet there was some part of me that refused to open itself up to him again.

“That man they had replacing you was awful,” he confided on Thursday as he cleared away our dinner plates. “He never smiles, and he has no idea how to behave in front of the camera.”

I knew my substitute wasn’t bad, but I let it slide.

He brought in two cups of decaf coffee before again taking his seat across from me. “How’s the work coming at your parents’ house? Have you made much progress?”

My pulse accelerated. It was an innocent question, yet it felt dangerously close to a truth I didn’t want to reveal. I felt mildly guilty about my tryst with Landon, and yet logically, I knew I had no reason to apologize. Not after Chase’s many betrayals.

“There’s still a lot of work to be done,” I said at last.

“Will you go back this weekend?”

God, it was tempting. I imagined returning to Landon. Feeling his arms around me. Letting him lure me back into laughter. But we’d discussed our deal in detail in the final hours before I’d left. His stipulations were specific. No phone calls. No e-mails. No trips back until our two weeks were up. I hated not being able to reach out to him, but he’d been adamant. He wanted to be sure my feelings weren’t the result of Granny B’s magic.

I didn’t believe my newfound feelings were magic, but I also recognized there was nothing to be gained by rushing into major, life-changing decisions. If what I felt for Landon was real, it could survive our two-week test.