The Douglas Fir (4 page)

“So, what did you want me to do next?”
Dave asked, peeking at Noah from the corner of his eye.

Noah laughed. “You? Gardening? I’ve got to see this.”

It was tempting to give Dave a task that would make him look foolish . . .

Ah, dammit, I couldn’t do it.

“All right, come here.”

He strutted over like he hadn’t been huffing and puffing and swearing under his breath at stubborn branches just a few minutes ago
.

“You want to trim back these bushes here?”

Under his breath, he said, “Is that easier than shoving the crap to the truck?” His words tunneled with a light breeze under the neck of my T-shirt.

I swatted the tickly feeling away. “Sure. If you do it right.” I showed
him how to use the shears properly and then handed them over. “You have some fun with that, and I’ll clear some more of this old foliage.”

Noah clapped a hand on Dave’s shoulder in a way that made me want to turn as green as the bushes I was clearing. “Let’s see you going at this then.”

They both laughed, and I was out of there.

It ended up a theme for the rest of the afternoon.
Using every excuse I could, I kept disappearing around the front of the house to my truck. Dave and Noah joking with one another and whipping retorts back and forth was just a little too much to hang around.

I threw an armful of dead wood and twigs into the bed of the truck, and then decided on a five-minute break. I used it to sit in the driver’s seat and ring home. Scott answered. “Hey bro,” I said.

To which his first words were: “You got me that lizard yet?”

“Nope. And you’re going to be out of luck.”

“Remember I’ll blab, Jase.”

“Not if you ever want to stay with me again.”

Scott swore under his breath.

“Besides,” I said, staring toward
Dave’s bougainvillea-framed villa. “I don’t want to be the guy that pines.”

“Ha! A zebra can’t change its stripes, you know.”

“
Tiger
.”

“No dude, you’re definitely the zebra.”

“You’re an awful brother, you know that?”

“Just doing my duty.”

I rolled my eyes. “I mean it, though. I’m going to spit it out and tell him I’m gay and let the cards fall how they will.”

“Ah-ha, when?”

“Before you get here.” Better yet,
tonight
—exactly a month after Noah’s birthday. Yeah, I’d take him to the fir and say my truth.

“Doubt it. And I still want Dusky.”

“Tough luck, Scotty.”

“I’m coming down next holidays
still, right?”

“
Not sure. Mum said she wants you to stay up there. But you can come over the winter holidays.”

“
That’s so long away! It sucks in Taupo. Wellington’s way cooler.”

“It’ll be winter before you know it. Then it’ll be just me and you again.”

“And Noah, right?”

“Yeah, and him.” I hoped.

“You think if I got Noah a really sweet wax comb that he’ll let me have—”

“Later, bro.” I hung up, shaking my head. He was persistent
, I had to give it to him.

There came a rapping at my window, and I looked up to Noah with his hands shielding his eyes as he peered inside. I wound down the window, and he leaned in, folding his arms on the sill. “I was just about to head off to get some fish
and chips for us. What do you want?”

I shook my head. “Thanks, but I think I’m winding up for the day, and”—I gestured toward the truck bed—“I gotta get rid of all that.”

“Oh.”

Did Noah look disappointed?

“Um,” I said, my hands gripping the base of the steering wheel tightly. “But can I pop around to yours later?”

“Hey, Noah,”
Dave yelled as he emerged from the front of his house, making Noah jerk out from my car window. “Get me a spring roll as well!” I glared at Dave through the passenger window. I didn’t think he could see me, but suddenly his gaze met mine. His lips curved into a smile that seemed to be saying either “Thanks for helping me,” or “I’m
so
in the lead to win Noah’s heart.” It was probably the former, but I couldn’t help but hear the taunt of the latter.

“
Spring roll. Sure thing!” Noah said to him, and then to me: “Chat later, then?”

I nodded, surreptitiously wiping my clammy hands over my shorts. I really hoped so
.

The last thing I wanted was to be the zebra.

Chapter Six

I was
so
the zebra.

To be fair, though, I only showed my stripes at the last moment, when Noah looked at his watch and jumped up from our cozy spot in front of the fir. “Crap. I promised
Dave we’d go for a midnight surf.” He glanced at the bright moon above us. “It’s a full moon tonight.”

Moon? Who cared about the moon? I was still stuck on the words
“midnight surf.” That sounded . . . well, romantic, didn’t it? “Do you often go, er, midnight surfing together?” Jesus, the way I said it sounded positively rude.
Please say no!

“Yeah, whenever we can.” I stared at
Stripy in my lap; in time to each of his purrs came an image of the two tangled up together, naked.

I lifted him and put him
down next to me as Noah said, “It’s quite the rush. It feels silky, my heart beats faster; it’s like I’m flying.”

I knew he was talking about the water and surfing, but now everything he said turned into erotic images that made my cock weep, sad it wasn’t the one flying with Noah.

“Hey, are you all right?”

I looked up to find Noah’s gaze soft on mine. He reached out an arm, and this time I took it, no hesitation. When I was standing, he didn’t let go right away. And my cock stopped feeling sorry for me and stood
to attention.

“There’s something honest and raw about the dark, don’t you think? Everything feels
 . . . more intense, somehow.” He let my hand go and twisted toward the fir. Now it was forty-eight centimeters. “One day I hope you’ll know what it feels like, riding the waves with me.” I watched his profile as he smiled and slipped his hands into his pockets. “Just like this fir, it’s magic.”

“Teach me to swim!” The words tumbled out of me uncensored. Raw and honest, just like he said. I blamed the night.

And the erotic fantasies that had come crashing to mind.

Funny how little it took to get me to finally take the plunge.

“Really?” He turned to me, and he was barely containing his grin. “I’ll call Dave tonight. We’ll make a plan and we can start right away.”

Dave?
“Dave?”

“He’s the best teacher.”

“I’d rather not, ah, have him”—there, eyeing you up like candy he wants to lick all over—“seeing me suck so bad.”

“Oh, right.” Noah nodded. “Sure, I was just going to get some tips how to go about it.
Tomorrow it will just be us.”

Tomorrow?
So soon? I shivered. “Sounds fine, but how about next weekend?” I had to give myself time to mentally prepare. And to buy a pair of swimming shorts.

“It’s a date.” And I knew the freaking out to come would be worth it, just to have heard him say that.

* * *

Noah’s voice came from the
dressing cubicle next to mine. “So, how are you feeling?”

Nervous, clammy, excited, sick.

“All right,” I said as I pulled up my new navy swim shorts. The smell of chlorine hit the back of my nose with every breath; there was no zoning out of what was waiting for me once I’d changed.

Noah’s door banged as he left and I could see his feet as he stopped outside of
my cubicle. His toes curled and tensed, and I thought he might be about to say something, but then he walked away.

Grabbing my gear and towel, I slipped out of my cubicle and strode after Noah
to the pool.

Just look at the man. He was all smooth, tan skin save for a pair of green and blue shorts that—unfortunately—left room for the imagination
.

Water splashed over my feet as a guy doing the butterfly finished a lap. He popped up out of the water with his goggles on and a self-satisfied smile as he looked at the clock
.

It wasn’t just him out there, either. Almost all the lanes were in use
by at least one person. All swimming. Swimming
well.

Butterfly guy started a new lap. He looked so much younger than me
 . . .

I didn’t realize I’d stopped, until Noah backtracked and stood beside me. “That could be you one day.”

I wanted to shake my head. That would never be me. “One step at a time, right?” I said, because that sounded rational and clear-headed, and far more attractive than starting to hyperventilate.

All you have to do is get in the water and finish this lesson with Noah. Then you can say, well look, we tried, and then agree never to do it again.

Noah bumped shoulders with me, his skin cool against mine. “Come on, we can start in the kiddie pool.”

The kiddie pool.

Heat rushed to my face as I forced myself to nod and follow Noah into the next room. The pool was almost empty, and through the still water, the bottom was clear to see. On it were colorful murals of kids splashing and laughing. There was even a picture of a tween coaching his baby brother to swim.

“The very first step is to
hop into the water,” Noah said, chuckling, and I flushed even more.

“Yeah, right. That’d probably make sense.”

There were four shallow steps descending into the water, and Noah was already at the last one. His back was to me, and I took a moment to swallow back my nerves before stepping in after him.

The water bit coolly for the first step, and the second, and the third, until I was covered up to my hips. Noah turned around, and the smile he gave me looked relieved
, as if he’d expected it might be harder to coax me in. He touched the surface of the water, making it ripple around him. “First, let’s just get comfortable in the water. Let’s walk around the pool.”

I wad
ed over to him and we pushed our way to the far side of the pool as he outlined all the steps he and Dave had planned for me. His voice was animated, but as his excitement grew, so did the queasy feeling in my gut.

“You really love the water, don’t you?” I asked as he showed me how to move my arms in freestyle.
One-two-three, breathe. One-two-three, breathe.

“Yeah.”

I looked away, toward the large windows overlooking a grassy yard.

This was never going to work.

“One-two-three, breathe,” I repeated. “Yeah. Got it.” I turned away from the windows and focused on the far end of the pool. He wanted me to walk there, bent toward the water arcing my arms in strokes, and angling my head to take a breath on the third one. I felt large and clumsy in the small pool, and it was awkward wading through the pool, imitating freestyle.

Just get to the other side.
I stopped a quarter of the way to roll my shoulders and rid myself of the tension coiled at the base of my neck.
Who cares what you look like? Just think, once you can swim, maybe
you
’ll get to do the midnight surfing with Noah . . .

One-two-three, breathe.

One-two-three, breathe.

One-two—

A sharp wolf-whistle sliced over the water, followed by a chorus of laughter.

Noah swore behind me, and I snapped my head up to a group of schoolboys passing through to the lane-pool.

“What a loser.”

“Shut up,
dickweed, maybe he’s slow.”

“Then he’s your type of loser.”

I flipped them all the bird just as Noah said, “Just ignore them.”

“Ignore it?” I
spat out. “Easy for you to say. This was a mistake,” I said, already moving toward the side of the pool. “I shouldn’t have—”

“No, Jase, wait. This isn’t a mistake.”

I pulled myself out of the water. “Isn’t it?” I said, pointedly looking to the toddler pool to our left, the mural at the bottom of the shallow pool, and the end of the crowd of schoolboys. “Well it sure bloody feels like it.” I shook my head. “Look, it’s just not going to happen, okay?” I rubbed my brow. “No hard feelings.”

With that I turned and made for my bag of clothes
, then the exit out of there.

* * *

In the middle of the day, I snuck into Noah’s back yard and transplanted the eighteenth Douglas Fir. The tree stood at sixty-two centimeters by the time I was done, and it would stand two days before I transplanted it with the next tree, eight centimeters taller. Tool butted his head against my leg after I hoisted my bag over my shoulder and picked up the last fir.

“I was a right fool this morning,” I said to him—and to the tree, because boy was that the truth
.

Tool just opened his mouth and panted, making it look like he was smiling. He didn’t care if I looked like an idiot. I could only hope his owner didn’t either.

I rubbed his soft ears and swallowed hard, as if that could suppress the embarrassment.

It couldn’t.

Briiing!

My pocket vibrated with the loud ring. I set the fir back on the ground, fumbled for the phone, and answered
the call.

“Jase?” Noah’s voice was hesitant, nervous, and
 . . . was that the sound of a car engine?

I straightened, immediately feeling like I’d been caught
red-handed. I prayed Tool wouldn’t give us away with a delighted doggy yelp. “Hi, Noah,” I said, grabbing the fir and making my way down the side of his house, Tool trailing behind me. “Look, about earlier—”

“Yeah, that’s why I called.” His breath crackled down the line. “I’ve swapped my afternoon shift with Greg. I’m coming to yours to chat.”

I stilled. “You are?” How far off was he? I jogged toward the truck.

“Yeah, I’m just around the corner. Shit, it’s just
 . . . I’ve felt awful all morning. I should’ve
thought
.”

I dumped my gear into the truck bed and—

Where were my fracking keys? I put them in my pocket!

I looked back toward the house. Shite. They must have fallen out. “Noah, you don’t have to come over. We can chat later.”

“ Sorry, couldn’t have heard
that
right.”

“We can chat another time.”

“Dang phone. I can’t hear you at all, I’ll be there in a few.” He hurriedly hung up, and I got the feeling he was deliberately lying to force me to talk.

Time to get home,
ASAP.

I raced back into the yard. “Keys, keys. Where are you, dammit?” I sank onto all fours, feeling through the grass and bark for them. The watch strapped to my wrist seemed to tick more and more loudly
.

Tool sniffed the ground next to me as if he wanted to help as well.

“They have a green tag on them,” I told him as I pressed the soft grass, trying to feel for them. “I’ll buy a bright yellow and red one tomorrow. Be sure of that.”

Tool nosed something and gave a small bark. I scrambled over to him and he nudged at metal glinting in the sun. My keys! I snagged them, thanking Tool over my shoulder as I sprinted back to my truck.

I jumped in and screeched into a U-turn. As I turned the curve in the street, though, I caught a glimpse of Noah’s blue Camry. Crapper! I checked over my shoulder, shifted into reverse, and parked in a spot hidden from home. Noah was bound to pass it when he left my place though . . .
Better hide the fir!

I jumped out, grabbed the fir from the truck bed and stashed it under the dashboard on the passenger’s side. Lying lengthways, it just fit
, though soil spilled out of the pot. But that was a price I was willing to pay. I chucked my gardening jacket over it as well, just to be on the safe side.

Locking the car, I prepared my excuse for not being at home
.

Just gone for a walk.
Yeah, because that’s something I just did without any reason.

Just finished helping Mr. Cole set up some trellises at Monk Estate.
Well that would explain the dirt on my clothes. But I’d already told him we’d finished working at the Estate.

I’d just
have to make it up as I went along.

I jogged to my place and through the ope
n gate—

A
nd stopped at the sight of Noah sitting with his back against my door, hugging his knees loosely and staring out into space. He absently ran his fingers over the edge of his grey cargo shorts and then, suddenly seeing me, clambered to his feet. “Jase. I thought you didn’t want to let me in.”

I shook my head. That would never be the case. “I was just”—I jerked a thumb over my shoulder—“going for a walk.” A walk, really? “To, ah, you know. Think.”

“Because of this morning?”

I shrugged. “More to peer into people
’s gardens and get ideas for Dave’s yard.”

Of all things, of all possible things, I had to bring
Dave
into this conversation. I really was asking for it.

“You’re working for him again tomorrow?”