Rainbow Hill (5 page)

“So you’re saying you’re hungry.”

Ethan nodded.

Fishing in his back pocket, Quinn produced a full key ring. “Let’s hit the diner. I think chili and cornbread’s on the menu today.”

Ethan wrinkled his nose. “That sounds about right for the diner. Isn’t there anywhere else that doesn’t sell dead animal on clumsy, chipped plates?”

Quinn rolled his eyes. “It’s hard to believe we grew up only a few miles from each other.”

This time Ethan rolled his eyes. “I’m sure there’s something on the menu I can bear to eat.”

“There’s a fast food joint out on the highway. I think they’re advertising veggie burgers for their more selective customers.”

Ethan couldn’t help but make a derisive noise. “The diner’s fine. So who’s driving?”

“Do you mind riding in a truck?” Quinn jangled his keys. “A real truck?”

“Mine is a real truck.” Ethan was beginning to lose his patience. “I want you to know that more than half of Britain drives that vehicle with no complaints from anyone.”

“Did I complain? This is not me complaining. I like your pretty, black truck. I see them lined up at the preschool each morning, shopping bags piled so high they can’t see through the rear windows.” Quinn shifted, resting his weight on one leg. “They’re very rugged. They’d have to be, carrying all those kids and bags and stuff.”

Forgetting about his limp, Ethan marched past Quinn toward the outside. “Do I need to bring a towel to wipe off your seat?” he threw over his shoulder. “These khakis are dry-clean only, and I don’t want to risk using any dry cleaners in Jefferson. They’d probably come back two sizes smaller and a totally different color.”

“Consider your pants safe.” Quinn’s long strides overtook Ethan’s. “And thankfully so is Mary Jane. She owns the one and only dry cleaner in town, and she’s a nice lady and not used to being mistreated by snobs like you, so by all means keep those pants spotless.”

Ethan refused to respond to Quinn’s barbed comment. He stopped at Quinn’s Ford truck and waited for Quinn to hit the key fob to unlock the door.

“I don’t lock so you can hop in.”

Ethan opened the door, impressed with every dirt-free surface. Admittedly, it had been a long time since he’d been in a
real
truck, but this certainly didn’t resemble a farm vehicle from his youth. Instead, the interior of a well-maintained and handsome cab resembled that of a Cadillac’s.

Sliding into the driver’s seat, Quinn turned over the engine. “Does it pass muster?”

“Just drive.”

Ethan saw the corners of Quinn’s full and sexy lips curve upward, the same lips he kept imagining kissing. “This thing has air conditioning, right?”

Quinn chuckled and turned the air to arctic. “Our old doctor is still in practice, would you like me to swing by so he can give you the once over? Probably be a good thing since we’re going to be too busy for anything else later.”

“I had a physical last month, and I’m fine.” Ethan readjusted the air vents. “Better than fine. Perfect, even.”

“I can see that.”

Ethan’s heart stopped. No doubt about it. He ran his hand over his chest just to make sure that he was still alive. “What did you say?”

“I can see that you take care of yourself. Maybe your internal thermostat runs on the hot side, but other than that, you look great.”

“Thanks.” He paused, struggling to find the words to return the compliment. All he could come up with was a very feeble “You do, too.”

“Do you mind if I ask a personal question?”

Ethan kept his eyes peeled on the road. He was vaguely aware of greenery rushing by. “Go ahead.”

“Won’t your boyfriend miss you? Or will you invite him to the farm on the weekends?” Quinn shot Ethan a sideways glance. “Maybe he could help?”

“I-I-I don’t think he… that Randall… would like it out here. At the farm.” Ethan clarified. “He’s a city boy through and through and hates anything remotely resembling countryside.”

“He sounds like one hell of a guy. Is that why you two are together, your extreme hatred of wide open spaces and fresh clean air?”

“I don’t hate fresh air and wide open spaces,” Ethan returned. “I just don’t happen to like the smell of cow poop on a hot summer’s day. And I’m sure I’m not the only one.”

“There’s a whole lot of questionable smells in the city too.”

Ethan couldn’t argue with that.

They drove over the curving country roads, listening to a country music station, Ethan’s thoughts swirling. He wanted to ask Quinn if he remembered that kiss they shared senior year during the homecoming football game. Normally Ethan didn’t attend sporting events, but Nikki had insisted due to her raging hormones for the quarterback, Noah Shelton. He couldn’t blame her; Noah had an amazing throw accompanied by an amazing backside. Unfortunately for Nikki, Noah had a girlfriend and was the president of the God Squad and didn’t believe in premarital anything, but Nikki was satisfied with the view. Ethan hadn’t judged her too harshly; he felt the same way about Quinn. He had grown into a man seemingly overnight, and Ethan had fallen head over heels in lust. He dreamed of running his hands over Quinn’s broad chest, kissing his lean abdomen, of cupping his hefty buttocks in his needful fingers. That year, night after night, Ethan jacked off until he’d rubbed his dick raw and his palms callused over. But he knew that his fantasies would never become a reality, Quinn being one hundred percent hetero. But would a straight guy kiss another guy like that? And the bulge in his jeans didn’t exactly say “I like girls”. Now that Ethan knew the truth, what was he prepared to do about it? That was the million-dollar question.

Ethan cleared his throat, hoping to attract Quinn’s attention. It worked. “Earlier when you brought up the thing about last seeing each other…”

Quinn answered, keeping his eyes firmly on the road. “Yes.”

“I just want to assure you that there will be none of that.”

Ethan thought he saw a small smile starting to form across Quinn’s lips. “And what is
that
, exactly?”

“I wasn’t the only one there and please don’t act like you don’t remember because I can tell you do. You’re not as sly as you like to think.”

The smile happened. “Oh I do think I’m sly,” he responded, shooting Ethan a casual glance. “And if memory serves me, that was one hell of a kiss.”

Heat flushed Ethan’s cheeks, and he went to open his mouth to agree, but Quinn beat him to it. “But you’re right. We shouldn’t play with fire. If we’re going to make this a viable business, we have to keep out relationship a platonic one. We don’t want to muddy the waters and lose focus, do we?”

Oh brother, did Ethan want to, but he shook his head no instead. “I totally agree,” he mumbled, disappointed.

“So glad you brought it up. Clear the air since we’re going to be living and working together. Being together twenty-four seven, a lot of emotions can happen to a couple….” Quinn allowed the word couple to linger in the space between them. “A couple of guys,” he finished.

“Plus I have a boyfriend.”

“So you’ve said.”

“Randall.”

“Randall.” Quinn repeated, slowing to take a turn. He chuckled.

“What’s so funny?”

“That your boyfriend goes by Randall. Randy sounds much sexier.”

“He has a very successful design business in the city, and a childish name like Randy might work out here in the sticks but not in the city. Randall says successful. It says he has arrived.”

“We have too.”

Taken off guard, Ethan looked around, surprised that they were already headed down Main Street. The town appeared more quaint and polished than he remembered. They passed a florist shop with an upmarket appeal, a modernist arrangement absent of baby’s breath taking center stage in the shop’s front window.

“Wasn’t that a tacky florist when we were kids that had more plastic flowers than real ones?”

“Time hasn’t stood still, Ethan. Two guys bought the place about a year ago, and they’ve grown quite a business.”

“Two men? Gay men? Here in Jefferson?”

“What, do you think gays aren’t allowed to leave the city? Not everyone wants to be crowded into a gay ghetto, you know.”

“I didn’t say that. I’m just surprised, that’s all.”

“We also have a few lesbian couples too.”

Ethan made a derisive noise. “That’s not exactly surprising.” He indicated two Subaru wagons parked along the street. “And that’s them now.”

Quinn shook his head. “You’re an ass.”

Ethan shrugged. “Maybe a little.”

Finding an empty parking space along the street, Quinn maneuvered his truck into the tight space, Ethan impressed at his expert driving skills. After turning the key and shutting down the engine, Quinn began to point out the changes that had occurred in the town recently.

“On Gatlin Street, the Kane Mansion is now a B-and-B that gets a hefty nightly fee.”

“I thought that place was demolished years ago.”

“A retired couple from Boston refurbed the property,” Quinn shared, continuing, “and now they live in the spring house. They did a gorgeous job. I can drive by after we eat. Show it to you.”

“I’d love that.”

Quinn opened the door and stepped out onto the street, Ethan following.

He locked the vehicle remotely. “Hungry?” Quinn turned and headed toward the diner that still hadn’t changed one lick since Ethan’s childhood, smudged windows and all.

Memories flooded Ethan’s brain as the glass front door chimed their arrival. All heads turned to look, and some smiled a friendly welcome, Ethan recognizing a few faces.

He could only imagine the rumors that would no doubt start swirling the instant they slipped into the false security of the high-backed, forest green Naugahyde booth.

“Two?” the curvaceous waitress with yellow-blonde hair the color of straw asked, plastic-covered menus clutched to her ample breast.

“Yes. Booth,” Quinn requested.

She winked. “Whatever you want, handsome.” Her purr was palpable.

Quinn’s sophisticated but still rugged good looks had always attracted the attention of females, Ethan recalled, and a few males. It appeared that nothing had changed.

Slipping into the booth, the aroma of freshly scrambled eggs and buttered toast sent Ethan’s stomach rumbling. They leisurely perused the extensive and varied menu and ordered before getting down to business.

“I know you’ve been ambushed,” Quinn began, “but as I said before, this is a great idea. As you can see, this town is not the same town as when we were growing up.”

“Except for this place,” Ethan whispered, looking at two old ladies, with blue tinged, teased up hair, sipping iced teas through straws and eyeing neighboring tables. “I think those two gossips have never left that table. Their polyester-clad asses are hermitically sealed to the seat cushions.”

Quinn chuckled, looking in their direction. “They’re harmless. Plus, if we let them know what we plan to do with Oak Hill Farm, this entire town will know in less than five. Those two old tongue-wagging biddies are the best source for advertising.”

Ethan arched his brow, thinking. “I never thought of it that way. A very effective marketing strategy. I’m impressed.”

Quinn lifted his chin and returned the arched brow. “Glad you think so.”

If Quinn delivered that look one more time, Ethan would give the entire diner something to talk about. Quinn’s five o’clock shadow at noon and that sparkle in his chocolate eyes were driving Ethan past thinking inappropriate thoughts, straight to five-alarm fire in his y-fronts. He exhaled slowly, hoping to rid himself of some pent-up sexual frustration as he coached himself to get a grip.

“What needs to get accomplished first? Where do we start?”

Quinn leaned against the back of the booth, settling in. “I already started repairing the old calf house and the storage barn. Still needs a few coats of paint, but the structures are sturdy.”

“I can paint.”

“You bet your ass you can. We start tomorrow.”

Ethan pictured Quinn, shirtless and sweaty, stroking paint on a barn wall, with rivulets of perspiration racing down his strong, tanned back dampening the waist of his faded jeans. He feared he would pass out and slide under the table, but a massive glass of ice water was placed in front of him in the nick of time. He guzzled its contents as Quinn kept talking.

“Since the storage barn is a larger space, I was thinking that it would be the perfect place for a retail space. I’ve started drawing up some shelves I plan to build…that is if you agree. There are also two rooms in the back of the barn that could be turned into classrooms, or working studios for a couple of artists. We could lease out the space. It would be interesting.”

“You have put thought into this.”

“Of course. This could really be lucrative if we stay focused and explore every possibility. It would give our fathers something to live for, to get excited about again. They’ve lost their spark for living since their wives died, my dad more than yours.”

“I just think he hides it better. I see this sadness in his eyes, a distant look on his face I never recognized before.”