A Younger Man (26 page)

“Same with your shirt,” Zane countered, looking Noah over with equal frankness as he grabbed his clothes. “Your chest and those wide shoulders and thick arms are just as distracting to me.”

While digging out the rest of his sandwich, Noah shook his head and rolled his eyes. “You’re such a good cook I’m not gonna call you out as a liar on that.”

Zane shot back, “You liked my brisket so much I’m not going to tell you that your false modesty is complete bullshit.” He stuck his tongue out too.

Glaring, Noah raised an exaggerated brow as Zane wiggled his sweet body into his shorts. “I swear I’ll throw you over my lap and smack your ass.”

“I thought we were going to hold the foreplay till next time.”

Hungry again, Noah tackled Zane and rolled the half dressed man under him. “What a wonderfully dirty mind you have, Mr. Halliday.” He dipped down to steal a kiss.

Instead, Zane shoved the strawberry he’d been holding into Noah’s mouth and said, “Shut up and eat.”

Zane bit off the other half of the piece of fruit, though, and Noah moaned as he got one more taste of the most delectable entrée on the menu before they went back to sharing actual food.

Chapter 13

Zane glanced at the clock in the restaurant’s kitchen. As the time ticked closer to two p.m. his insides started to do an Olympic gymnastics routine, leaving him jittery in the best possible way.
He’ll be here soon.
Noah would pick Zane up for work soon, and Zane couldn’t wait. Noah’s car was at the mechanic’s for an oil change—just regularly scheduled maintenance, Zane hadn’t hurt the car in any way. The vehicle wouldn’t be ready for a few more hours though, so Noah had agreed to pick Zane up between jobs.

Two days had passed since they’d had sex, and during that time they hadn’t gotten much time alone to dive into each other again. In fact, with their normally packed schedules and Noah having Matt and Seth at his cabin, those additional constraints took away their few minutes alone together in the mornings. With a groan last night that Zane had been able to hear through the phone, Noah had said it was for the best anyway, because he wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off Zane, and that Zane’s ass was probably still tender and needed a few days to recover from what they’d done.

Right where Zane stood at the center prep table, straining tomatoes to make a smooth, cold summer soup, he blushed as his buttocks automatically clenched, making him very aware of his channel. After they’d gone back to work that afternoon those few days ago, after what they’d done together under the sun, Zane had been sore and extremely aware of his ass, enough that he’d almost been concerned enough to say something to Noah. But he’d held his tongue, and the soreness had lessened steadily after that initial discomfort, enough to where Zane had spent much of last night and this morning picturing nothing but spreading himself open for Noah’s cock again.

Zane took another look up at the clock. At the same time, a big, meaty hand yanked the bowl from in front of him and grabbed the strainer out of Zane’s grasp.
Oh crap
, filled Zane’s mind as Mickey glared at him. The burly old man dropped his focus to the table, and Zane followed to see tomato juice all over the surface rather than in the bowl where it should have gone. Mickey came back up to Zane and growled, “You are completely useless to me today, kid. Get the hell out of my kitchen right now.”

Before Zane could grab a towel and apologize, Violet piped up from her corner of the kitchen. “You leave that boy alone.” She waved her mayonnaise-covered butter knife in Mickey’s direction. “He is nothing short of wonderful, and I will not have you saying anything that runs him out of my employ.”

“Woman,” Mickey shook the dripping strainer, “nothing I have taught him today has penetrated his skull and gone into his brain.” After glaring at Zane again, Mickey added to Violet, “Hell, you could have done that peach cobbler better than he did this morning.”

Her sandwich clearly forgotten, Violet strode across the kitchen, her hair tinted blue this week, and slipped her arm around Zane. With her diminutive height, her head tucked itself in right near Zane’s armpit. “Don’t you pay him any mind, honey. We all have our off days. Why don’t you go on out and check the stations for me?” The big, open eating area had a half dozen strategically placed checkpoints that contained silverware, utensils, linen napkins, and a host of other small dining room necessities. “Fill what needs restocking and then take off when you’re done. All right?”

“Thank you, ma’am. I’ll do that.”

Hating to pull away from this tiny woman, Zane forced himself to do it. He then took off his apron, using it to wipe down the mess he’d made, the best he could do to make up for not giving Mickey his best today. Even though Zane, with his modest height, towered over Violet, she still felt like a warm, booming, full-bosomed grandmother to Zane—at least what he imagined one would feel like, if he’d ever had one.

After apologizing verbally to Mickey, and getting a grumbling, “Forget about it” in return, Zane threw his apron in the bin for the wash.

Just as Zane put his hand on the swinging door to exit the kitchen, Violet asked, “How’d that cute brother and sister of yours like that spaghetti pie last night for dinner?”

Violet had brought in her special spaghetti pie from home last night, along with the order that Zane take what she could not possibly finish on her own home for his siblings. While her charity was transparent, her kindness was equally sincere, and Zane fought the urge to rest his head on her narrow shoulder as if it were the softest, most welcoming pillow.

Choked up a bit, probably more than he should be, Zane shared, “They gobbled it all up, then burped and had smiles when they were done.”

“Good, good. I tell you, I love it myself; I always have; but I can’t seem to get out of the habit of making it family size even though it’s only me at home at night. It’s nice to know I don’t have to feel guilty when I make it in the future. Hey,” she perked up, “you just let me know when you want a Sunday to yourself, sweetie. I’d love to have those kids out to my property one day. They can go crazy running around with the goats and dogs, and then I can fill them up with homemade lemonade and chocolate-chip cookies before bringing them back to you. How does that sound?”

Zane put his hand against his heart, feeling the deep, tight pounding. “That’s very generous.” When in the restaurant, he’d often heard Violet’s grandchildren talk about how much they loved Violet’s property, and her odd group of animals that lived there with her.

“I would love to spoil them.” As Violet got back to preparing her lunch, she winked at him. “You just let me know when.”

His chest expanding with sweet pain, Zane pushed through to the body of the restaurant. The second he did, the warm tightness changed to a clammy twist in his gut. Clint sat at one of the few occupied tables, chatting with a waitress as they transacted his bill.

“Oh, there he is,” Zane heard Clint say as he stood. Then he added to Delilah, the young server, “The meal was delicious, sweetheart. Thank you.”

“Our pleasure.” Delilah didn’t cringe at the endearment; at only seventeen, she’d once told Zane she was used to pretty much every man older than twenty-five calling her words like that. Dipping her head, she said, “Please come again.” As she passed by Zane, she rolled her eyes and gave his arm a little squeeze.

Holding his breath, and his anger—and the sickness in his belly—Zane waited until Delilah was out of earshot before striding to Clint. “I don’t get paid until next week.” Zane’s voice went a little high and tight, but he couldn’t control the sudden dryness in his throat. “I will get you more money as soon as I can.”

“What? Did I say anything?” Clint looked like super glue wouldn’t stick to him. “I just like this restaurant, Zane.” Sliding his hands into his snug jeans pockets, he stooped down and lowered his voice. “I’m liking it more and more every time I come.”

His stomach lurching, Zane dropped to a heated whisper too. “I’m not helping you rob this place. If you threaten me again, I will tell the cops what you are thinking about doing here.”

“And risk me telling them how many times you had to borrow money from me?” Clint tsked and shook his head. “And have it end up getting back to your aunt?”

Oh my God.
Blood fled from Zane’s head, leaving him dizzy. His legs went shaky, and he grabbed hold of the booth to keep upright.

“Yeah, I didn’t think so.” Clint spoke as if they were chatting about going to church. “See,” a flash of darkness slipped into his falsely charming stare, “I don’t give people money without finding out a little bit about them first. I know you’re barely holding onto that family of yours. I don’t know how the courts will feel about the fact that you took money from me more than once and can’t seem to stay on a reasonable schedule to pay it back.”

Not at all trying to play bigger than he was anymore, Zane looked at Clint and tried to will his situation and truth into the cowboy’s head. “I will give you everything I can spare next week. I promise.”

“Well then I don’t think we’ll have a problem,” Clint replied, smiling that coconspirator smile that had lulled Zane into trust the first time they’d met. “Make sure to tell the owner how much I love her place.” He tipped his hat. “Bye.”

Zane almost slumped, but shot straight up as Noah entered the restaurant—crossing paths with Clint on his way to the exit.

Noah locked in on Zane, and he immediately frowned and turned to look back at Clint as the man disappeared through the entry area to outside. Getting close to Zane, Noah dipped down and looked right into Zane’s eyes. “Are you okay?” He only touched Zane’s arm—something completely innocent to anyone who might see—but God, that warm big hand stroked up to Zane’s shoulder, and Zane instantly felt strength feed back into his spine. Noah glanced toward the entrance again. “Who was that?”

“Nobody,” Zane blurted. Noah turned that narrowed stare straight back on Zane. The piercing power in Noah’s eyes penetrated Zane and pushed guilt into his gut. Wanting to spill everything, but knowing he couldn’t risk it, Zane forced himself to shrug. “All right, fine. He’s some guy who comes in and leaves an unpleasant taste in everyone’s mouths.” That was at least somewhat true. He—and from the look he’d shared with Delilah—would both be happy if Clint never entered this restaurant again. Zane forced a smile. “But don’t worry. I handled him.”

“If you’re sure.” The only other party remaining from the late lunch crowd moved past them to leave, and Noah inched even closer to Zane to give them room. He lowered his mouth oh so close to Zane’s cheek. “Just let me know if you want me to beat him up for you.” His lips, so light it might have been a phantom touch and not even real, brushed against Noah’s ear. “’Cause I will, you know. I like you that much.”

This time Noah’s teasing, his very genuine charm, pulled a real smile out of Zane. “I might enjoy that, but I don’t like the idea of having to post your bail to get you back home to me afterward.” Grinning, studying this incredible man, Zane couldn’t fight the lightness returning to his heart. “Brief high without a good long-term reward, you see.”

A twinkle lit Noah’s eyes, making the brown breathtaking. “I like how you’re already looking out for me.” He slid his hands into his jeans pockets and jerked his shoulder toward the doors. “You ready to go?”

“Almost.” Zane patted himself down until he found his order pad in his back pocket. He would use it to take notes for his final task of the day. “Give me fifteen minutes to finish up and then we’re out of here.”

As Zane took his first step, Noah reached out and grabbed his hand. He took a quick check of the room, and finding it empty he once again put his lips dangerously close to Zane—against his temple this time—and whispered, “It has never registered with me before that there’s a motel at the end of this block. Those neon letters stood out to me today.” Noah pulled back to make eye contact, and his nostrils flared. “We only have two quick jobs this afternoon. If we focus we can get them done incredibly fast.”

Oh mother trucker.
Zane’s cock nudged against his khakis and his ass channel throbbed. “Sit tight.” Taking his chance while he had it, Zane leaned up and pecked a fast kiss to Noah’s cheek. “We’ll be in your truck and leaving in less than eight minutes.”

As Zane ran across the restaurant to check the first station, Noah’s soft chuckle filled the empty restaurant.
Good God.
The sound went right through Zane, like a deeply intimate touch, and he shivered. He loved the sound of Noah happy.

As for the other, as long as he paid Clint next week, then everything would be fine. It had to be. Clint could not want the law scrutinizing him any more than Zane wanted Patty knowing about his financial struggles. It was to their mutual benefit that they both kept quiet.

* * * *

The second the door at Zane’s back swung open, he stumbled inside the motel room, Noah still attached to him in an eating, searing kiss. Zane’s skin was already on fire, and with each consecutive plundering of his mouth, his core ratcheted closer to combusting. Noah’s lips were on his, the man touched over every inch of Zane’s back and ass, and his fingers dug deliciously into Zane’s flesh through his clothes.

The room they’d been given was on the back side of the motel; the second both men had realized not a soul seemed to have taken temporary residence in this place they’d pounced on each other, not able to wait to get to the room.

Noah kicked the door closed, the steel toe of his work boot forcing the door to slam with force and shake the walls. The keys, along with the blanket and wipes they’d brought in from the truck, flew across the room and landed on the bed. Zane bumped into a table to his right; with a rumbling growl Noah wrapped his arm around Zane and hoisted him right up onto it. Instantly parting his thighs, Zane dragged Noah in, tucking them together as close as they could possibly get, and sank his tongue into Noah’s mouth for another intoxicating taste of this man.

With a low moan, Noah leaned hard into Zane, tangling their tongues, but abruptly crushed his fingers into Zane’s hips and broke the kiss. “Wait, wait.” Noah’s chest heaved in deep, unsteady waves, and his dick was so hard that its shape was clearly defined against his jeans. His focus was pinpoint sharp though, drilling into Zane in a way that made him tremble. “I feel like we should at least take a few minutes to have some element of a proper date, or at least have a conversation or something, before I tear off your clothes and fuck you raw.”