The Closer You Get (11 page)

Adam pushed back, pulling his lips free. “Hey, hey, take it easy,” he said.

Cash buried his lips in Adam’s neck and grabbed his erection through his jeans.

“Cash, slow it down,” Adam gasped.
 

Cash was fumbling with Adam’s jeans. He had to do this now before the fear overtook him. “Now,” he murmured between sucking at Adam’s neck and earlobe.

“Jesus, Cash, you’re shaking.”

“We have to do this now,” he said, pulling at Adam, trying to get him to turn over.

“Whoa. That’s enough. Let’s just take a step back.” The firmness in Adam’s voice was the final decider.

Cash moved back and shoved his hands into his hair, breathing hard and frantic. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”

“Hey,” Adam said softly. “Come on, Cash. Come here.”
 

Cash felt Adam’s arm around his shoulder. He kept his palms dug into his eyes, not wanting to face Adam, not wanting to face the fact that he couldn’t get past the past enough to enjoy being with a good man.
 

“Cash, I’m worried. Are you okay?”

Cash nodded. “I’m fine. Sorry…just give me a second.”

“You’re shaking so hard.”

“I said I’m fine. Just a second.” He took in some deep, calming breaths while Adam rubbed his back. He let himself get lost in the circular motion of Adam’s hand on his back. The repetition soothed him and soon his shaking had calmed.

“Talk to me,” Adam said softly.

Cash shook his head. “I don’t feel well. I’m going home.” He stood, but Adam stood with him and took his arm.

“Cash, I don’t know what’s going on, but talk to me. Stay and talk.”

Cash looked into his eyes and saw nothing but sincerity. That was all fine and good, but it didn’t change anything. “I don’t talk,” Cash said. He took two steps toward the door. This time Adam grabbed his arm and spun him, taking him by the shoulders.
 

“Cash, just—”

Cash shoved him, “Keep your goddamn hands off of me. If I want you to touch me, I’ll fucking let you know!”

Adam put his hands up in the air in surrender and took a step back. “I’m sorry. I just want you to know that you don’t have to be afraid with me.”

“I’m not afraid! Do I look like someone who’s afraid? I could kick your ass with one hand tied behind my back, so fuck you!”

“Okay, you’re being extremely defensive right now—”

“I have a goddamn headache, okay? I don’t feel well, and I want to go home. Okay?”

Cash was breathing hard, fighting back tears of shame, anger, and yes, fear. He watched as Adam studied him intently and at last nodded.
 

“Just…call me, okay?” Adam said.

“If I want to I will.”

“Sure, love. You’re in control.”

Those were the right words. Cash didn’t know how Adam knew to say them. Maybe it was just luck. But they immediately shut down his anxiety. He nodded and got the hell out of Adam’s apartment.
 

The next morning, Cash and Rye found themselves unwashed, unshaven and sprawled on their sofa, staring blankly at the television.
 

“I’m hungry,” Rye said.

“Yup,” Cash replied.

“Want some donuts?”

“Yup.”
 

“Do we have donuts?”

“Nope.”

“We should get some.”

“Yup.”

Rye changed the channel. A half hour later there were still no donuts and Rye was still hungry. “Let’s go out.”

“Don’t feel like it,” Cash said.

Rye turned and punched him in the arm. “Did you fail to get lucky last night? Are you feeling scorned? Alone? Well, join the fucking club. Now let’s go to that bakery where that hot blonde works and get something to eat.” He stood and grabbed Cash by the front of his t-shirt, hauling him to his feet and shoving him back toward the bedrooms.
 

Rye went to his and put on jeans. Then he decided to take them off and shower because as miserable as he was, he knew for a fact that there was a hot blonde at the donut shop. After showering, shaving, and brushing his teeth, Rye dressed and went out to drag Cash out of his bedroom. But Cash was already dressed and waiting in the living room.
 

“Walk or drive?” Rye asked.

Cash shrugged. “No, preference.”

“Walk, then.”
 

As soon as he stepped outside he regretted it. The sun was brilliantly cheerful, and there was nothing he could do about it.
 

“Goddamn,” Cash cursed, throwing his arm over his eyes. “This sucks.”

“I hate daylight.”

“I hate this town.”

“This town sucks.”

They grumbled until they made it to the alley they cut through to get to Main Street. Then they were in the shade and stopped griping. Rye knew they were being a couple of big babies, but he didn’t see any way around it. He’d had a sucky Friday night, and best he could tell, Cash had as well. “What happened with you and Adam last night?” Rye asked.

“Fuck you.”

Maybe after sugar and caffeine. They made their way to Ruby Hammond’s bakery and then stood just outside the door under the awning. The pink awning. There were hand-painted cupcakes on the window and pink facings on the display cabinets. True, the display cabinets displayed the very delectable pastries they’d come to partake of but was it worth enduring the overly feminine atmosphere?

“I don’t think we can go in there,” Cash said.

“Shit. I’m really hungry.”

Just then, the cutest, perkiest blond Rye had ever seen waved at them from behind the counter. If that girl were a color, she would be pink. So that explained the decor. Suddenly, Rye didn’t care about the overly feminine atmosphere. He charged on in, matching Ruby Hammond’s smile, tooth for tooth. “Hey, boys, what can I do for you?” she asked.

“What are you offering?” Rye asked without missing a beat. He ignored Cash’s groan.

“Well,” Ruby said, “for a big, hungry fella like yourself, how about one of my famous sticky buns, hot out of the oven?”

Rye opened his mouth to say something obscene, but Cash stepped him front of him. “Two. Please. And coffee.”

“Sure thing,” Ruby said cheerfully and turned to the kitchen to fill their order.
 

Rye turned to Cash and shoved him. “No cock blocking.”

“If her food sucks, I’ll leave her to you. But if those hot buns of hers taste as good as they smell, then you keep your damn hands off her.”

Rye rolled his eyes. “Too many restrictions on my love life.”

“Love has nothing to do with your life.”
 

They sat at a table by the window, and Ruby came out with the biggest, stickiest sticky buns Rye had ever seen. She poured them each a mug of coffee. “Anything else for you?” she asked.

Rye opened his mouth again, just instinctually, to lay some innuendo on her. But Cash kicked him in the shin, and he ended up yelping instead. And then kicking Cash in the shin.
 

“Thank you, Miss,” Cash said, “this is perfect.”

“Great. You two enjoy. And my name’s Ruby, by the way.”

She flitted back to her kitchen. Rye bit into the sticky bun and decided he wouldn’t be bedding Ruby any time soon. Her talent was better put to use making pastries.
 

When the little bell above her door jingled, Ruby came back out. “Usual?” she asked the customer. Rye had his back to the door, so he couldn’t see who it was. As a courtesy, he always gave Cash the seat facing the door since Cash tended to get jumpy when stuff was happening behind him.
 

“Yes, ma’am,” the customer replied in answer to Ruby’s inquiry. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, and Rye knew he was being watched. He looked up at Cash, who was already glaring at the customer. Rye turned.
 

The guy was a stranger to him. Big and tough-looking with a few days worth of stubble. The guy glanced their direction, his lips quirking up in an almost-smile. “You got a problem?” Rye asked.

The guy angled and took a few steps toward them. “Are you Rye Holcomb?”

Rye and Cash stood in unison, licked the sticky off their fingers, and then folded their arms over their chests. “Who’s asking?”

The guy gave a quick, nervous smile. “Uh, my name’s Marshall.” He extended his hand, and when Rye refused to shake, he withdrew it and shoved it into the pocket of his leather aviator jacket. “Cash…right?” Marshall said to Cash.

Rye glanced back to see Cash lift his chin in acknowledgment.

“Um, you might like to know that Davis Acton from over in Henderson…he’s my cousin.”

Rye and Cash dropped their arms and stepped forward, fully prepared to fight. Rye would have preferred to handle it himself, but he knew Cash would never back down.

But Marshall did. He held up his hands and shuffled backward. “Whoa, there,” he said. “Take it easy.”

“What do you want?” Rye asked.

“I just heard you guys had moved to town and…and recognized you just now. I just wanted to let you know Davis has relatives around here.”

“And what? You gonna try and take me on, son? You got some misguided idea about revenge going on in your head?” Rye asked.
 

Marshall’s eyebrows went up, and there was a hint of amusement in his expression. “No. No, sir. Davis ain’t nothing to me. But we all grew up together, my brothers and cousins. They’re all pretty close, and when that whole thing in Henderson went down, they was all pretty riled up.”

“Are you trying to threaten us?”

“You’re not hearing me. I’m trying to give you a heads-up. I do my best to keep Les and Eddie busy with work, but I can’t babysit them always. If they meet you two and catch on to who you are, you could have trouble.”

“Les and Eddie Dunigan?” Cash asked. “Yeah, we’ve already run into them.”

“They didn’t indicate they had any beef with us,” Rye said.
 

“Then they don’t know who you are,” Marshall replied.

Ruby came out with a white paper bag folded closed. Marshall moved to the register and paid. “Listen, I didn’t mean to piss you guys off,” Marshall said, as he collected his change and his breakfast and moved toward the door. “I just saw you and thought maybe you’d like a little information. Just ask around about me. I don’t make trouble, and I don’t want trouble. Okay?”

Rye and Cash gave him grudging nods. Marshall nodded back and left. Rye and Cash watched him walk before sitting back down and resuming their breakfast. “Nice guy,” Rye said.

Cash shrugged. “Not feeling great about this town.”

“This is Arkansas, little brother. Everybody’s related to everybody. You remember I fucked that chick over in Bixy who ended up being cousins with Beth.”

“Dude, watch your language.” Cash jerked his head toward the kitchen where the pretty young blond was bustling around, humming and smiling, oblivious to the fact that the world was a shitty place.

Rye ignored the rebuke. “If you want anonymity and a fresh fucking start, the only option we have is a city like St. Louis or Chicago. Maybe even further.”

“Mom and Candace…it’d be awful if we couldn’t watch those kids grow up.”

“You’re too sentimental. There’s the internet. Not to mention that I could earn a lot more money in a bigger city, buy you plane tickets anytime you got the itch to go home.”

“I’m not a city guy. Neither are you.”

Rye just shrugged. They’d had this conversation a hundred times already. He happened to think he’d make a fine city guy. But it didn’t matter. Cash had roots, and there was no breaking him away. “So what happened last night?”

Cash’s shoulders slumped. The sugar had made him more amenable to conversation, but not by much. “I don’t know. I freaked out.”

Rye sat back, his brows furrowing. “Really? How?”

Cash just shook his head and shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s not like I haven’t had sex in three years. This was just…different somehow. Usually I go to a bar, hook up with a guy, and we set the terms right there and then go out to an alley or a cheap hotel and fuck. I don’t remember the names of any of the guys I’ve done in the past three years. I should have done that with Adam.”

“So…is it fear of commitment?”

“I don’t think so. I was kissing him for the first time. And that’s all, just kissing. And then I just started shaking like crazy, and my heart started racing. Half of me wanted to run; the other half wanted to fuck him as fast as possible just to get past whatever that panic was.”

Rye was no shrink, but it sounded like PTSD to him. And as much as he hated Adam, right now, on account of what he’d said to Cora, he still wanted Cash to be happy. Rye studied his brother, whose head hung in shame, and his heart broke a little for him. “You, um…probably need to talk to him.”

Shame vanished, replaced by anger. “What, about Henderson? It’s none of his goddamn business.”

“Then you need to break it off. You’re the one decided Adam was worth more than a one night stand.”

“He don’t need to know that shit about me.”

“It’s a relationship, Cash. Why the fuck you think I avoid them, huh? You gotta talk about your feelings. Adam strikes me as a sensitive guy—” even if he is a fucking asshole, “—just give him a chance.”

“I get sick just thinking of telling him.”

“So ease into it. Let him know you’re working up to it, but for now, you need to have as much control as possible. You said with all those bar guys you’ve been with you lay out the terms before you leave the bar. Have you laid everything out for Adam? What you’re willing to do and what you’re not?”

Cash shrugged. “No, not really. Adam’s got a romantic streak. I don’t want him to think I’m just using him.”

Rye fought back more bad thoughts about Adam. “It’s called communicating. It’s not mercenary to tell him what you need and want. If he doesn’t like your terms, you can compromise. If you can’t compromise, you end it. Those are your options, as far as I can see.”

Cash nodded and took a sip of his coffee. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“My favorite words.”

“Yeah, smartass? What happened with you last night? Sneaking in with your tail tucked between your legs?”

With a sigh, Rye said, “I somehow doubt I’d get much sympathy over what happened to me last night.”