The Stolen Suitor (20 page)

“Chris. Chris,” Jeremy chanted, loud, and every slam forward pushed a gasp from Chris that bore the sound of Jeremy’s name.

The pleasure was intense, even more intense than Chris’s mouth on him. It was hot and tight and there was more drag, more of everything. It felt like he danced on the edge for a long time, but it could have only been minutes.

He was vaguely aware of Chris’s hand flying over himself, of the signs that he was going to come. But even if Chris hadn’t been ready, Jeremy would never have been able to stop, not when he was inside another body for the first time.

He closed his eyes and screamed as he erupted. And even then, he had to feel Chris too. He slumped over Chris’s back and put his hand on top of Chris’s so he could share the throb and spill of Chris’s orgasm while Jeremy’s cock was still pulsing
five times, six
, as deep inside as he could go.

THEY
were both hot and sticky, but Chris pulled Jeremy close as they lay side by side on the bed.

Jeremy’s room. Chris had hardly had time to register it, but his eyes wandered over it now, its owner’s naked chest pressed to his, groins and stomachs slick with seed and lube.

The bed was a double, slouchy with an old blue comforter. There was a white dresser, a laptop and stack of notebooks perched on top of it. Nearly every other square inch in the room was taken over by bookshelves and books, used paperbacks like hoarded nuts. There was a sticker over the top part of the small window that showed a path into the forest. It seemed like the perfect pictogram of Jeremy Crassen, a wanderer at heart, if only in his mind, a simple path that could lead to wonders and magic.

“I like you. A lot,” Jeremy said, his hand toying idly with Chris’s happy trail. His body went a little tense, and the following silence felt forced on his part.

Chris closed his eyes. He’d been out in the wide world, and he knew that another man would have jumped up and been gone in a flash, hearing words like that. They were sweet and heavy, like a hundred-pound hive filled with honey.

Honestly, they made Chris feel a little anxious, but only because he cared about Jeremy and he didn’t want to hurt him.

He’d never felt so close to anyone, during sex or after. He’d never before spent every waking moment thinking about when they’d be together again. He could not imagine another person whose body, whose passion in bed, would never bore him. As for just hanging out together, they fit like they’d known each other all their lives.

He liked Jeremy too. He really did.

Shit.

He lay there, trailing his fingers along Jeremy’s arm and trying to think of what he could say that would be nice, but would put the brakes on things, at least a little. He was getting in too hard and too fast, and he worried about that more for Jeremy’s sake than his own. But before he thought of anything to say, they heard the sound of the trailer door banging shut.

Chris sat up fast.

Jeremy scrambled out of bed. “Shit,” he said, hopping on one leg and pulling on his jeans, commando. The condom fell off and onto the lino floor with a
splat
and Jeremy pushed it with a toe under the bed.

Chris laughed, finding that inexplicably hilarious, even as he dove in a panic for his own clothes.

They emerged from Jeremy’s room a few minutes later. Chris tried to act casual, but he figured anyone with eyes and a sense of smell would know what they’d been up to.

Mabe Crassen sat at the little Formica table that was attached to the wall next to the kitchen. There were two iced glasses of lemonade sitting there and another partially emptied one in her hand. “Boys,” she said coolly.

Chris had never had much interaction with Mabeline Crassen except at the register in the Merc. She looked different today. She’d gotten her hair dyed and done up and looked years younger. She didn’t look mad, but there was a sadness in her eyes that made Chris uneasy. “Mrs. Crassen,” he said politely.

“Hey, Ma. You know Chris. We were just… um… looking at some of my books.” Jeremy gave it a valiant effort.

Mabe huffed. “That was the loudest, moaniest ‘lookin’ at books’ I ever heard.”

Jeremy went bright red, and Chris wished very much for a teleporter or a black hole.

“Have some lemonade, Chris.” Mabe pushed the glass toward him. “Don’t worry, it ain’t poisoned. Or even spit in.” Mabe raised an eyebrow at him as if daring him to refuse it, so Chris had no choice but to take the glass and sip it.

It was cold and good. He took another gulp. It was awfully hot in the trailer. “Thank you.”

She pushed the other glass toward Jeremy. “Drink up, Jer, before you pass out of sheer embarrassment.”

Jeremy took the glass and downed the entire thing. He wiped his mouth with his arm. “We’re not…,” he began, shooting an uncomfortable look at Chris. “That is, nobody knows about this. And they can’t, Ma. Not like that.
Please
.”

Something Chris didn’t understand passed between Mabe and Jeremy.

She shook her head and looked down at her hands. They were rough, her nails short. She toyed with a broken one. “At the moment, I got bigger fish to fry, Jeremy boy. Alls I care about is that you don’t leave me. You won’t leave me, will ya?” She looked up at Jeremy, her eyes wet.

Jeremy frowned in confusion. “No, Ma. Why?”

She shook her head as if to say she didn’t want to discuss it. “I’ll make something for dinner tonight. Need to talk to you and Eric, God help me. You boys go on, now, and take it somewheres else.” She snorted and shook her head with a wry little smile. “I think my heart’s had enough excitement for one day.”

“It was nice seeing you, ma’am,” Chris managed as Jeremy all but shoved him out the front door.

“Be home by seven, now, Jeremy!” Mabe called after them.

By the car, Chris got a good look at Jeremy’s face. He looked shell-shocked. “You okay?” he asked.

“I just came out to my mother,” Jeremy said, with awe.

“And topped for the first time.”

“And topped for the first time!” Jeremy repeated, as if he couldn’t believe it.

Chris grinned. “Congratulations. I think that deserves a root beer float, don’t you? We can go to Sheila’s.” The drive-in, just outside of the town, had the area’s best soft-serve ice cream.

“Yeah,” Jeremy said, returning the smile. “Yeah. A root beer float sounds perfect.”

Jeremy seemed quite happy as they drove to Sheila’s, but something niggled at Chris.
You won’t leave me, will ya?
Mabe had said.
Was that why Jeremy had never gone to college? Did Mabe guilt him into staying?

It might be that Jeremy’s situation was more complicated than Chris had thought.

JEREMY
watched Eric shovel down their ma’s hamburger casserole as if it were his last meal before the gallows. Ma was picking at hers like a sparrow with an eating disorder.

And Jeremy was annoyed.

“Hey!” he said loudly, and they both looked at him. “Figures the one day I’m happy as can be, you two are Gloomy Guses. What’s goin’ on?” Jeremy asked. “Ma? Did you want us all together for a reason?”

He’d gotten the impression Ma had something to say. He wished she’d go ahead and say it. He was pretty sure it wasn’t about him being gay, but the longer she waited to spill the beans, the more nervous he got.

“Huh?” Eric looked up from his plate. “Sorry, I wasn’t listenin’.”

“God, bro, you are so lovesick!” Jeremy snorted. “Why don’t you just throw Trix over your shoulder caveman style like you usually do?”

Eric glared at him. “She’s a lady. She’s gotta see it for herself.”

“Now, we ain’t here to talk about Trix,” Ma interrupted before Jeremy could argue back, just on principle.

“Then what are we here to talk about?”

Ma put down her fork, lifted her chin, and settled her hands in her lap all dignified-like. But her eyes stayed fixed on her plate. “Well, I guess you boys know how I always had a soft spot for Big Basin. Also, I never had much good to say about Billy Stubben. There’s a reason for that.”

She lifted her eyes and looked at Eric. There was a kind of panic in them that Jeremy had never seen before, and it scared him.

“Ma?”

Eric just stared at her, frowning. “What? You got somethin’ to say?”

She took a fortifying breath. “No point beatin’ around the bush. The truth is… the truth is Billy and I walked out together for a bit, and I was pregnant with Billy’s child when I married Frank Crassen. Eric, Billy Stubben is your natural daddy.”

The silence in the trailer hurt, it was so loud. Jeremy felt his mouth hanging open and closed it with a snap.

The look on Eric’s face about crushed Jeremy. His face drained to sickly white beneath his tan, and he looked like the ground had just been snatched out from beneath him. He swallowed and swallowed again.

“Is Frank
my
daddy?” Jeremy asked.

“Course he is!” Mabe flashed him a dirty look. “I never went around with other men on your daddy. Eric was… already made before I met Frank.”

“So…. Eric and I are half brothers?”

“Yes.” There was a funny set to Mabe’s mouth, almost as if she expected a blow of some kind. She adjusted her hands in her lap and watched Eric, waiting for him to say something.

“Did Daddy know about Eric?” Jeremy asked.

“He knew.” Mabe raised her chin. “I never lied to him. Frank wanted you, Eric. He always treated you like his very own, and he loved you. That’s what you should remember.”

“Did Billy Stubben know?” Eric sounded like it hurt to get the question out.

Ma shook her head and looked back down at her plate. “He just figured it out. He said he’d tell you himself if I didn’t. So I’m tellin’ ya.”

“You’re sayin’…,” Eric said carefully, “that John Stubben was my half-brother. And Billy is my father. And I could have been somebody? I could have rightfully been a part of Big Basin
all this time
?”

Jeremy was shocked at the level of anger and hurt in his brother’s voice. And also a little insulted. “God, Eric, you are somebody. And so am I. And so was our daddy!”

Eric stood, picked up his plate, and threw it so hard into the small sink that it smashed into a million pieces. Then he grabbed the cowboy hat he’d been wearing and took off. A moment later there was the sound of his Camaro peeling out.

Ma put her elbows on the table and buried her head in shaky hands. “Oh Lord, he hates me.”

Jeremy was worried too, but he tried to make Ma feel better. “He’ll be okay. This is about Trix. For the first time in his life, Eric really wants something and he can’t have it.”

Maybe, Jeremy thought, Eric wanted to
be
John, or at least be like him. And maybe he could have been if Ma had told the truth years ago. That did sort of suck for Eric.

And maybe, for the first time in his life, Jeremy really wanted something too.

TRIX
arrived at Billy’s house harried and anxious. Billy and Polly had bought a nice little cottage when they’d moved into town years ago. But usually they visited Big Basin, not the other way around. Today her father-in-law had asked her to come over for a “family meeting,” and told her to come alone.

Billy had never called a family meeting that Trix could remember. If he’d ever done so when John was alive, John never mentioned it. When Billy had something to talk to John about, he just came over to the ranch. So Trix couldn’t figure out what the heck was going on.

And she’d had a devil of a time making it work. It was a Wednesday, and not convenient for her mother to come over, so she’d had to drop Janie off at her parents’ ranch early. And then, of all days, Eric had called to say he couldn’t be in ’til noon. She’d had to rush through morning chores and put up a sign and phone message about the stable being closed for half a day, which she hated to do.

What on earth did Billy want?

She was surprised to see Eric’s Camaro parked in Billy’s driveway. She pulled her SUV in next to it with utter perplexity.

Was Billy going to give Eric a raise or a promotion? She’d been thinking she should do something about that, and maybe she’d dawdled too long, but it was none of Billy’s business to be managing the ranch anymore.

Or maybe he’d caught Eric doing something he oughtn’t? Was he going to confront Eric in front of her? That was trouble she sure didn’t need.

With a shake of her head, Trix went inside. “Hello!” she called out from the front hall.

“In here, Trix! Come on back.”

Trix entered the cozy dining room, still done up with the rose wallpaper and chintz Polly had picked out. There was a nice breakfast laid out on the table—and Eric Crassen sitting there with Billy.

They both rose as she came in. “Mornin’, Trix. Have a seat and get comfortable. I took the liberty of havin’ Nora deliver some breakfast,” Billy said.

“Well, what in the world is this all for, Pops?” Trix asked.

“We’ll get there. Have a seat.”

She sat.

Eric said nothing. He was dressed neatly in one of his cowboy shirts, and his hair was combed. Without the sweat of hard work or his hat, he looked different. Still handsome as sin, but more mature. Or maybe it was the strange look on his face—sort of disbelieving and hopeful at the same time. He met her eyes, then shifted his away again.

Billy poured her some coffee without asking and moved the cream pitcher toward her. He waited until she put some in.

She was starting to get a really bad feeling about this. “Pops?” she prompted.

Billy cleared his throat. “Well, thing is, I have some amazing news. I learned recently that John was not my only son.” His voice wobbled a little.

Trix couldn’t breathe.

Billy nodded at Eric, his eyes watery. “It turns out Eric is my flesh and blood. See, I dated his mother, Mabe, when I was seventeen. And, well, I guess I don’t hafta explain the birds and the bees to you.”

Trix’s coffee cup clattered into the saucer, and she raised both hands to her mouth. She stared at Eric.