Finding Home (Finding Series, Book 1) (4 page)

He saw Cal clench his jaw hard and he instantly felt guilty because he knew Cal’s loyalty to his family ran as deep as the obligation the man felt towards him. Some of the anger left him and he squatted down next to Cal and said, “What about marriage? Kids? You think I could ever have those things here? Do you think there will be a day where you and your wife and me and my husband can go out for dinner together in this town?”

Finn reached out to gently touch Cal’s arm and he felt the muscles tighten beneath his palm. He drew his hand back and softly said, “I need to go someplace where all those things are okay. Where I don’t have to fight every fucking day just to be who I am.”

Finn felt tears stinging his eyes so he stood and stepped back. “I need you to want those things for me, Callan,” he said firmly, then turned and left the clearing.

***

Callan.
Finn had called him Callan. He’d started calling him “Cal” shortly after they met and he was the only one who’d ever done it and now Finn was taking even that away from him. Callan flung the container of cookies across the pile of dirt that used to be the cold, clear lake he and Finn would swim in after a long day’s work.

He had no doubt that Finn would carry through with his decision this time and it was absolutely the right thing for him to do. Finn deserved everything he’d ask Callan to want for him, but all Callan really wanted to do was track the man down and fuck him until he promised he’d never leave. He wanted to bury his body so deep inside of Finn’s that a piece of him would always be there. But what Finn needed was the one thing Callan couldn’t give. He couldn’t choose Finn over his family…over the commitment he’d made to his mother to always take care of his father after she was gone.

His father may have been a cold-hearted bastard at times, but he’d taken care of Callan, had put him through school, taught him the business. And he’d loved Callan’s mom deeply. Maybe if things had been different, if his father hadn’t started to lose himself in the darkness of his own mind, Callan could have walked away – forced his father to accept him or let him go. But that choice had been taken away the same as the man’s other memories. What kind of person would he be if he abandoned his own father? Left Aunt Dolly to care for him by herself? He knew the answer – the kind of person someone as good and kind as Finn could never love.

Rhys heard the front door open and waited expectantly for the sound of footsteps to make their way to the kitchen to join him. Several seconds passed and all he heard was the sound of another door closing. Rhys put the box of spaghetti noodles he’d been about to cook down and turned off both burners on the stove. He went to Finn’s room and knocked softly on the closed door. There was no response so he tried the knob. Locked just like last night.

Finn had been a no-show since he disappeared after their ride and Rhys had been on edge ever since his run in with Callan. A smarter man would have gone back to the kitchen, made himself a shitload of spaghetti that he could inhale while watching whatever piece of crap movie was on the twenty year old TV in the living room and called it a night. But no one had ever really accused Rhys of being too smart so he pounded his fist on the door.

“Finn, open up!”

Nothing.

Rhys felt a shadow of panic skitter down his back at the continued silence. He’d known the young man for barely twenty-four hours, but Rhys knew quiet and withdrawn weren’t Finn’s thing, so he hurried into his own room and pulled out the small, black nylon pouch he kept stashed in his bag. He went back to Finn’s door, found the tool he wanted and picked the lock.

“Finn?” Rhys said softly as he stepped into the room which was cast in shadows as the sun fell.

“I can’t, Rhys. Not tonight,” he heard Finn whisper and his eyes tracked the sound to the body curled up on the far side of the bed.

“Can’t what?” Rhys asked gently as he went to the side of the bed Finn was laying on and knelt in front of him. Finn’s eyes were closed and Rhys could see the dampness along his cheeks.

“Eat, drink, talk, fuck,” he said pointedly. “Can’t,” he repeated, his voice hollow.

Rhys actually hurt for Finn and he found himself reaching out to stroke his face. “Okay.”

Finn squeezed his eyes closed even harder at the contact and Rhys guessed the younger man was barely holding it together. He stood up, but instead of leaving, he went around the other side of the bed and worked his boots off.

He felt Finn stiffen when Rhys crawled into the bed next to him and pulled him back against his chest.

“Rhys-” Finn started to say as he tried to get free.

Rhys tightened his grip and dropped his mouth next to Finn’s ear. “Just let me hold you, Finn. Nothing else,” he said quietly and felt relief go through him as Finn relaxed against him. Any desire he might have felt at that moment was quashed when a shudder and harsh sob went through Finn and Rhys did the only thing he could think to do – he held him tighter.

***

Rhys woke up alone in Finn’s bed the next morning. He hadn’t felt Finn leave the bed, but Rhys had been awake most of the night as Finn tossed and turned in his sleep. Of all the men Rhys had been with, only Tom had ever spent the night and the other man most definitely hadn’t been a cuddler, so having someone pressed up against him all night long had been a new and surprisingly pleasant experience. They’d started off with Finn’s back pressed to Rhys’ front and the feel of Finn’s firm ass nudging his cock every time the man moved had left Rhys both grateful and disappointed that he’d left his jeans on when he’d gotten into Finn’s bed. By the time Finn had drifted off to sleep, then turned around and snuggled up against Rhys’ chest, Rhys was in physical agony and had to reach between their mashed up bodies to loosen the button and fly on his jeans. He just hoped to God Finn hadn’t noticed. And he really hoped the erection he was now sporting hadn’t been there when Finn got up.

Rhys forced himself out of bed and went back to his room to get cleaned up. His eyes burned from the lack of sleep and his muscles protested every move as he stripped off his clothes and climbed into the shower. He hadn’t even been at the job for two full days yet and he was feeling it everywhere. No wonder Callan and Finn had such hard bodies – every muscle had been earned.

A sudden image of Callan and Finn wrapped around him had Rhys reaching for his cock. Rhys was equal opportunity when it came to playing top or bottom, but now he was wondering if he could take both men at once. The idea of them filling him up at the same time, working in tandem as they stroked in and out of him had him desperately pulling at his dick. It would be Callan’s heavy weight that held him down as Finn pumped up into him from below, his and Callan’s dicks rippling and pulsing inside of Rhys. His own dick would be pressed between him and Finn and it would only take the slightest touch of Finn’s firm grip to end him.

“Fuck!” Rhys shouted as his release shot through him without warning and he slapped the tile hard with his free hand to keep himself upright. The orgasm seemed endless as lines of seed coated the shower wall and mixed with the hot water. When the shuddering finally eased, he dropped his forehead against his arm and then let out a soft chuckle. Jesus, he was so fucked.

***

Finn ran the brush gently over West’s face as the animal pressed his large head against Finn’s chest. The horse had been a perfect fit for him, though that shouldn’t surprise him since Cal had been the one to gift him with the animal two years ago. Cal had always seemed to know what he needed so the fact that he’d been given a spirited, but nearly bomb-proof mount was just another indication of how Cal wanted, no, needed to protect him. It was scary to think of life beyond this ranch, beyond Cal.

It had taken everything in him last night not to go running back to Cal’s side and tell him that he had changed his mind, that he would stay. So he’d forced himself to walk until that need had lessened and then made himself go back to the tiny house he was sharing with the other man who had unwittingly changed his life. It wasn’t that he blamed Rhys for opening his eyes to what was missing, but it hadn’t made facing the man any easier so he’d snuck off to his room to lick his wounds.

He hadn’t been surprised when the locked door failed to keep the former cop out, but the feel of Rhys pulling him tight against his own body had opened something up inside of Finn that he feared he’d never be able to close off again. And the truly eye-opening part had been that what Rhys had done hadn’t been about sex. Painting Rhys as a just a horny, one-night stand kind of guy had been the one thing that made it possible for Finn to keep him at arm’s length and now even that was gone. Finn sighed and dropped his forehead against West’s. He was in love with one man who would never want him back and now his body ached for another who would inevitably walk away from him.

“Morning,” he heard Rhys say as he entered the barn and he felt the heat of the other man’s body as he stopped behind him.

“Morning,” Finn said back, not trusting himself to turn around. He couldn’t let this man see any more of his weakness than he already had.

“You been up a while?”

Finn casually shrugged, then pulled back from West and unclipped the horse from the cross ties. Rhys didn’t need to know that he’d woken well before the alarm was set to go off and had just lain there while he reveled in the feel of Rhys’ arms wrapped around him or that he’d wondered what it would be like to wake Rhys with a deep, lingering kiss on those firm lips – the ones he’d only gotten a brief taste of two nights ago. Had it really only been two days since Rhys turned his world upside down?

“What’s the plan for today?” Rhys asked as he glanced in each empty stall. “You already cleaned?” he said as Finn turned West around and started leading him out of the barn.

“Yeah. Cal’s horse is gone so he probably already went to check on the herd. The water trough in the main pasture needs to be emptied and cleaned and then we need to start thinning the manure pile. Spreader’s been broken for a couple months so we’ll have to do it by hand,” he called over his shoulder. He smiled at the colorful curse Rhys let out and then walked West to the pasture.

***

Rhys knew he’d die a happy man if he never had to shovel another pile of horseshit for the rest of his life. He’d tried to draw Finn into casual conversation throughout the morning, but the young man had remained stubbornly mute. Rhys still had no clue what had happened between their ride yesterday and Finn’s breakdown last night. It was like the good-natured guy he’d met two days ago had vanished and left a hollow shell of flesh and bone in his place. He reminded himself that his plan was to stay out of it, but as he watched Finn work himself to the point that he could barely stand, Rhys bit out a curse and grabbed Finn’s arm.

“Let’s take a break,” he said as he dragged Finn over to the wash stall and turned on the hose.

“I’m fine,” Finn insisted.

“Yeah, I know. So you’ve said,” Rhys said dryly. He cleaned his hands and arms off, then lowered his head so he could run the hose over it. The water wasn’t cold, but it still felt good as it slid down his hair and seeped into his shirt. He shoved the hose into Finn’s hands and gave him a warning look. Several seconds passed before Finn finally cleaned his own arms and hands off, then used his hands to slick some water through his hair.

“You going to tell me what happened last night between you and Callan?” he finally asked.

Finn turned off the water and wrapped the hose up. For a long time he thought maybe Finn wouldn’t answer him, but then he finally said, “Gave him my notice.”

“Good,” Rhys said.

***

Finn was caught off guard by the response. “Good?” he echoed softly. He’d expected some big argument or demand for an explanation.

“Yeah. About fucking time,” Rhys muttered as he went into the barn and started pulling down the individual water buckets from each stall.

The lack of sympathy irritated Finn. “Why do you say that?”

“Because you deserve better,” Rhys said without hesitation or guile, instantly wiping out the building anger that had been growing inside of Finn. He’d been expecting Rhys to berate him for waiting things out as long as he had.

“Better than what?” Finn asked him.

Rhys looked up from what he was doing, his dark gaze pinning Finn’s. “Just better,” he answered before releasing the bucket from the clip holding it in place and stepping outside the stall, his body brushing Finn’s slightly as he moved past him.

Finn didn’t stop to think about the repercussions of what he was doing. Instead, he grabbed Rhys’ free arm and stopped his forward motion. They stood like that for several long seconds before something passed through Rhys’ dark eyes and then that mouth was crashing down on his. The water bucket hit the floor spraying water over both of them as Rhys wrapped his arms around Finn and dragged him up along his body as his tongue thrust into Finn’s mouth.

Nothing had prepared Finn for the overwhelming sensations that crashed through him as Rhys claimed him. Even the kiss from a couple nights ago paled with what was happening to him now. Sparks fired beneath his skin as Rhys’ fingers dug into his hips and that lush tongue explored every corner of Finn’s mouth. Something knotted in his belly and his cock pushed against his jeans painfully. He needed more, though he wasn’t completely sure what more meant.

Finn needed something to hang on to so he wrapped his arms around Rhys’ back and curled his hands over the other man’s shoulders. He felt one of Rhys’ hands stroke his ass and then those amazing fingers were pushing under the waistband of his jeans, the rough skin searching out the small of his back, then gliding lower. Finn moaned at the feel of Rhys’ fingers exploring his crease and he had to rip his mouth free of Rhys’ so he could suck in a breath. Their cocks brushed as Rhys pulled him closer and fastened his lips on his neck and sucked hard. Marking him.

“Finn!”

Finn ripped free of Rhys at the sound of Cal’s voice and looked around frantically. Cal was calling him from outside somewhere so he hadn’t seen what they’d been doing. Relief flooded through him and he turned back to Rhys, but froze when he saw the anger simmering in the other man’s eyes.

“Rhys,” Finn started, knowing he’d just royally fucked up.

“Finn!” Cal shouted again.

“Don’t worry about it,” Rhys muttered as he wiped his hand over his lips as if trying to get rid of Finn’s taste. Pain and disappointment went through Finn at the sight. He followed Rhys to the back door and saw Cal pulling his horse to a stop. A small, black calf was draped over his lap, blood dripping down its sides.

“Call Doc Sanders,” he said to Finn. “Rhys, give me a hand.”