Rainbow Hill (14 page)

“Maybe you were too young to remember?” Tucker mused. “Anyway, we bought you a swing set for your sixth birthday. You got tired of swinging by yourself so we invited Quinn over. At first, you two got along like oil and water.” Tucker inclined his chin. “You were quite the bossy kid.”

“Now that you’ve brought it up, I do remember that day but vaguely. I have a sense that it was a nice day, that I had fun.”

“Are you having fun now?”

“Yes,” Ethan answered, but not immediately. He had to stop and think about it, but the conclusion was that he
was,
in fact, having fun, even this morning’s activities, although smelly, weren’t as bad as many other things he had done in his life. And an hour of fragrant smelling cows was better than dealing with a rich bitch client who got her kicks by bossing him around because she had nothing else better to do, her nose in the air and her checkbook gripped firmly in her hand. He shuddered at the memory of his last complicated client who treated Ethan like her own personal plaything just because she could.

“Good,” Tucker responded. “I want you to have fun. Life can be serious so it’s good to remember to have fun along the way.”

“I do.”

“I had fun with your mother. Now I’m not saying it was always easy, but nothing is.” Tucker paused, wiped a bead of sweat from his brow. “Is your guy coming to visit?”

It was strange to hear Tucker mention Randall. They never discussed his personal life, and Ethan was fine with that, the intimate details of his life better left unsaid.
Don’t ask. Don’t tell.

Ethan cleared his throat. “Maybe, but Randall’s very busy this time of year so don’t prepare the guest bedroom any time soon.”

Ethan realized that lying about his failing relationship was becoming too easy.

“I’m sorry to hear that. Not that you need my permission for a weekend pass but if you want to return to the city, please feel free to do so.”

“I know that, Dad. Thanks.”

Tucker turned to leave but stopped short. He turned back and angled his chin at Ethan. “I wouldn’t think any less of you if you said that things hadn’t worked out between you and Randall. Sometimes relationships don’t. I was lucky, but it doesn’t mean you’re a failure by any means.”

Heat flushed Ethan’s cheeks.

In a perfect world, he always dreamed of having conversations like this with his father, but on the rare occasion that it actually did occur, Ethan became incredibly uncomfortable to the point that he could feel every hair on his body bristle, his palms turn into two steady streams of sweat, and his temples begin to throb as his vision grew blurrier by the second. In Ethan’s imagination, a soul-baring conversation shared with Tucker resembled a scene from a Hallmark Channel movie where a happily ever after was guaranteed. But those movies were about straight people, and if his life ever made it to cable, it would undoubtedly be on Showtime.

“My relationship is solid so please don’t worry about me, plus we have bigger things to worry about—for example, getting this place off the ground. It’s going to take a lot of time, effort, and energy on everyone’s part.”

“I hear what you’re saying, but don’t hide behind your work, it’s no replacement for the real thing.”

“The real thing?”

“Life.” Tucker winked at Ethan. “Take my ponderings with a grain of salt if you wish, but it’s a father’s prerogative to offer advice where he feels the need.”

“I’m glad you do.” This was an honest statement.

Tucker took a few steps backward and said, “I better start pulling together the ingredients for dinner. Get ready to eat the best damn chili in the state of Maryland.”

Ethan chuckled and rolled his eyes. “See ya,” he said and waved as Tucker turned and left.

He knew his father was right—that before Ethan knew what was happening, his life would be almost over. He didn’t want to be a bystander in his own life. He wanted to be the pilot. Ethan also had to accept that his relationship with Randall was finished. They had not worked together on any projects for months, hadn’t spoken in person or on the phone since Randall stopped in to collect his clothes with Ethan’s replacement smirking by his side. Randall didn’t even feel the need to send a simple text, but what did Ethan want him to say, that Randall wanted him back? That it was time to put his infidelities in the past and move on? Did Ethan want to do that?

“Fuck no,” Ethan said aloud, his jaw tightening.
And fuck him
.

* * * *

After working together the entire afternoon and into the evening, Quinn and Ethan had managed to finish painting the interior of the shed and cut a dozen pieces of wood that would be used for shelving in the future. Brackets had been leveled and hung, the rest of the assembling for the shelving left for tomorrow morning.

Ethan watched Quinn work, watched the neck of his T-shirt dampen with sweat and the underarms darken to a deeper shade as the perspiration saturated the thin cotton. Every time Quinn leaned over or squatted, the back of his pants would ride down to expose a contrasting tan line. It was the single most erotic vision Ethan had ever witnessed. The creamy white skin of his lower back that, in only a few inches, would become his muscular buttocks, had a definitive line, a sharp contrast to the golden glow of Quinn’s lower back that glistening with golden wetness.

Ethan had to fight the urge to walk right up to the man, rip the shirt off his sculpted torso, free him of his jeans to expose that cock Ethan had only imagined, and fill his mouth with that substantial dick, judging by the hefty bulge in Quinn’s pants. Ethan needed to feel like a man again, a desirable one who had urges, a man who acted on his sexual impulses. Being reserved and upright had its good points, but not when it came to sex. He wanted Quinn bad. But Ethan also didn’t want to feel Quinn’s large fist coming in contact with his nose if he refused Ethan’s advances. Ethan liked the way his nose looked and didn’t want to have it rearranged due to raging hormones after a long period of unintentional abstinence. And when Quinn used the hem of his T-shirt to wipe his face, exposing a set of washboard abs blanketed with the perfect amount of hair, Ethan almost risked his current nose for a new one. Ethan even went as far as taking two short, stumbling steps toward Quinn before the logical part of his brain begged him to stop causing Ethan to stand there, instead, like a dummy breathing through his mouth, eyes transfixed on that snaking trail of fur that fueled Ethan’s most intense fantasies. Even at dinner, steaming chili on the table, his hunger for Quinn outweighed any other hunger Ethan might have had, Tucker’s chili tasteless when the other diners moaned their approval through hardy mouthfuls.

Excusing himself from the dinner table, Ethan raced to his bedroom to jack off unable to withstand Quinn’s magnetic pull any longer. He couldn’t take Quinn’s hairy, tanned forearms, his creased brow that suggested so many things, those warm eyes that changed depending on what color shirt Quinn wore, the full lips that were shaped into a perpetual sexy smirk. Everything about the man was complete torture. Pure, sweet, exhaustive torture. And when Ethan released himself with only a few deft strokes, he immediately fell into a peaceful slumber, dreaming of the man who was only a few doors down the hall but yet, still so far away.

Chapter Eleven

“Son?” Quinn heard Frank’s knuckles wrapping on his bedroom door. He blinked against the darkness, forcing the sleep from his eyes.

“You okay,” he asked, sitting up in bed.

A crack from the now open door threw an orange line across the floor. Quinn recognized his father’s shape although he couldn’t see his face, the hall light behind him. “We got a call,” Frank said. “The cows are out. The buggers are about a mile down the road. Can you get Ethan and drive them back.”

“Sure,” he said. “But I didn’t hear the phone.”

“I was up. Only rang twice before I picked it up.”

“Tucker awake?”

“Yep, but I told him you would handle it. You don’t mind, do you?”

Quinn shook his head. “Part of farm life.”

“What’s going on?”

Ethan appeared by Frank’s side, wearing a pair of rumpled boxers, his sandy blond hair sticking out in every direction.
Was he sporting wood?
Quinn thought. Or was it just wishful thinking on his part?

“Cows are out.”

Ethan groaned and returned to his bedroom. In the time it took Ethan to reappear dressed in jeans, a half buttoned short-sleeve shirt, and sneakers, Quinn dressed in yesterday’s clothes he had discarded on the floor by the bed with the intention of laundering them in the morning. There was no sense in dirtying anything else; chasing escaped cows at two in the morning could be a dirty job if memory served him correctly. They stalked down the stairs and out the side porch door toward Quinn’s truck, the night’s mist cool against Quinn’s skin.

As they climbed into the vehicle, Quinn said, “In the glove compartment you’ll find a flashlight,” Quinn directed. “We might not use it, but it’s better to be prepared.”

Ethan retrieved the flashlight before closing the door and buckling up. “Why do these damn creatures always choose to break out in the middle of the night?” he asked through a yawn.

“I’ve often wondered the same thing as I’d help Dad do just what we’re doing when I was a kid. I strongly believe that I would’ve done better in school if our farm had better fencing.”

“You couldn’t have done too poorly. You graduated at the top of the class and got into college.”

“It’s ’cause I had a mother who cared and stressed the importance of an education. She never had the opportunity to go to college and always regretted it. She said it was her life’s dream to be able to send me.”

“My parents didn’t go to college either, but they said it was important that I did. I often wonder why they felt that way. Do you think it was because they were unhappy with their position in life? They didn’t appear to be unhappy.”

Quinn fired up the powerful engine. “I’ve wondered the same thing, but I never asked. Figured they’d tell me if they felt like it.” He slowly backed out of the gravel drive using his mirrors to guide him onto the road. “I’m glad they did, though.”

“Me too. Just imagine if we hadn’t.” Ethan chuckled. “We would still be living in Podunk Jefferson, stuck on the farm trying to find lost cows in the middle of the night. God forbid. That would be awful.”

Quinn laughed along. “Point made,” he said. “But at least we did get away, for a while at least.” He placed the car in drive and headed east. There was a weak spot in the fencing that he had meant to repair but never got around to, and gut instinct told him that’s where the lost herd would be.

“It’s not so bad.”

Quinn slowly accelerated. “Did I just hear you right? Did Ethan Stokes admit that Jefferson, Maryland isn’t ‘so bad’?” Quinn used Ethan’s words against him. “I never thought I’d hear those words come out of you.”

“Okay, I admit it.” Ethan leaned back against the seat, a slow smile across his lips. “It’s not as bad as I remember. It’s changed a lot, more places and different people. Not the same old faces and wagging tongues.”

“Hold up. It still has that, but every town does. Have you ever thought that maybe it’s you who has changed?”

“Maybe,” Ethan replied, the tone of his voice a noncommittal one. “But that I would never admit to.”

“Why’s that?” Quinn asked, rolling down his window.

“I’m fine the way I am. Don’t want to change.”

“I hate to break it to you, but in the short time you’ve been here, you have changed. You’ve got your hands dirty and let your guard down. That chip on your shoulder is a much smaller one tonight.”

“I don’t have a chip on my shoulder. You do.”

“Yep, much smaller but still there.”

“Do you know where you’re going,” Ethan asked, “or are we riding around aimlessly while I’m subjected to your abuse?”

“I’d never abuse you unless you wanted me to.” Quinn couldn’t help it. He had to say it. It was too damn easy. And he meant it.

“And what if I said I wanted you to?”

Quinn’s foot slid off the accelerator, genuinely surprised by Ethan’s candor. “I’d say it was you who was teasing me now.”

“It’s over.”

“The teasing?”

“Between me and Randall,” Ethan clarified. “It has been for a while, but I haven’t wanted to admit it. I hate failure on any level.”

“When a relationship doesn’t work anymore, I’d hardly consider that a failure.”

“I do.”

“So you’d rather stay in a bad one for the fear of failing? That doesn’t make any sense. I’d consider that a failure.” Quinn looked at Ethan, his strong profile visible in the bright moonlight. “What’s changed?”

“In the relationship?”

“No, for you to admit it…right now.”

Quinn watched as Ethan ran his tongue over his bottom lip. “I-I-I’m not sure exactly.”

“Does it have something to do with me?” Quinn was nervous to hear Ethan’s response. If Ethan admitted to liking Quinn, how far would their relationship go? Would it be just sex? Not that Quinn was against that, but he couldn’t promise more. After Oak Hill was up and running, and when his father appeared to be handling life better, Quinn wanted to find a job in his field again, possibly out west where he had grown accustomed to the dryer climate and sunny days, a vast difference to the humidity and cloudy skies the Mid-Atlantic states offered. He waited to hear what Ethan had to say while driving slowly, searching the immediate area for the wayward cows.