A Younger Man (5 page)

Obvious tension rolled out of Zane’s shoulders. “That would be helpful and appreciated. Okay, guys,” Zane corralled his siblings around the front of the Accord, “in the car or we’re going to be late.”

Noah lifted his hand as he moved to his door. “I’ll follow you.”

“Okay.” Zane waved from over the hood of the car. “See you in a bit.”

After climbing in behind the wheel, Noah waited for Duncan and Hailey to strap themselves in the backseat, and then for Zane to do the same in the front, and get them started toward town. All the way down the mountain, Noah couldn’t stop smiling and occasionally chuckling as he replayed what had just transpired. He knew where this fizzy bubble of joy he could not control had come from too.
Zane.
Being in his presence. Around his light. Just goddamn admiring the younger man. And not just because of his pretty eyes either.

Fuck.

Noah didn’t like this inappropriate interest. It wasn’t healthy or good for him. Not one bit.

* * * *

At midday, Zane sat on the hood of Noah’s truck and swallowed down the last bite of his sandwich—part of Noah’s lunch—with a swig of orange soda. When it had come time for a break from work, Noah had driven them to a clearing on the outskirts of town. He’d explained that his job often entailed nonstop conversation with his customers while he did whatever repair they needed, and thus he preferred to bring his meal from home and pick a quiet spot to eat, rather than listen to the dull roar of a fast-food joint during lunchtime.

In the distance, Noah emerged from the line of trees surrounding the area and strode toward the truck. Assuming the man had gone to take a piss, Zane hopped to the ground to grab a package of cleaning wipes from inside the truck. When Noah reached the truck, Zane handed him the blue plastic box. Murmuring his thanks, Noah rubbed down his hands and arms, tossed the wipe into a paper bag, and then used another to clean his face. He did this all efficiently and in silence—much as how Zane had observed he’d eaten his meal.

Noah had outright said he enjoyed his quiet, and Zane had respected that desire while eating. But as Zane watched Noah drink the rest of his water, he did battle with his desire to know what made this man tick. Who crossed paths with a stranger on the street and less than ten minutes later offered him a place to live, a car, and then the next morning a day’s worth of work?

Zane found himself looking at Noah’s hands again, for the hundredth time since their workday had begun. Seeing something beyond the rough, tanned skin he couldn’t ignore, Zane suddenly blurted, “Can I ask you a question, Noah?”

Noah glanced up from grabbing a paper towel that had drifted to the grass. “Shoot.”

After exhaling—
you’re allowed to ask, it’s all right
—Zane asked, “Are you divorced, or widowed?”

Noah’s face blanched. “What?”

“You’re not wearing a wedding band, but you have two kids.” Zane darted his attention down to Noah’s left hand. “And I can see a little bit of a line still on your ring finger where you once did.”

Noah rubbed his ring-less finger, and his lips tightened. “I’m divorced. I probably kept the ring on for longer than I should have.”

Visible pain filled the lines bracketing Noah’s mouth, and Zane’s chest tugged in kind. “I’m sorry.”

All hard lines and angles from top to bottom, Noah busied himself, his movement jerky, as he cleaned up their small mess. “It was for the best.”

Zane quickly started gathering debris too. “Still…”

Grabbing Zane’s trash from him and putting it all in a cooler, Noah set everything in the backseat of his double-cab truck. “What about you?” Noah asked, busying himself so much with straightening his truck Zane would have thought he had to pass a boss’s inspection after each lunch. “How did you end up raising your brother and sister?”

Understanding the man’s actions, Zane stepped back to give Noah room, and leaned against the side of the truck. “My stepfather died five years ago,” he shared, his heart constricting only a little bit as he thought about Burt’s difficult final years of life. “There was no way I was breaking us up when he passed.”

“Stepfather?” Noah gave Zane a sideways look. “What about your mother? And your biological father?”

“My mother died shortly after Hailey was born.” The many losses in Zane’s life occasionally kept him up at night in tears; they made him wonder who he might have been if his mom and stepdad had lived. Zane couldn’t help feeling that if he gave Noah a bit of personal information about himself, then maybe Noah would open up more too. “My mom had an infection that wasn’t detected or treated,” he paused for a moment, thinking about his pretty, gentle mother, “and it killed her.”

Noah went still right where he stood. “Oh, Zane.” Such empathy warmed his stare it turned the medium brown shade rich with life. “I’m so sorry.”

“Thank you.” Zane nudged closer to Noah. The goose bumps on his arms, the flash of cold that had gone through him, immediately disappeared. “My stepfather—Burt—is the only father I’ve ever known. He’s Duncan and Hailey’s real father; I don’t know where my father is. I’ve never met him; I have no interest in doing so.”

Settling in, his attention fully on Zane now, Noah rested his shoulder against the truck. “Yesterday you said something about help from family not being an option.”

Zane nodded, and his teeth clenched with thoughts of Patty. “I have my stepfather’s sister. She lives a couple counties south of here. She never liked my mother, though, and didn’t think Burt should have married her. She wants custody of Duncan and Hailey, and she doesn’t want me to have a relationship with them if she gets them.”

“Why the fuck not?” Shoving away from the truck, Noah stood up straight. In Zane’s eyes he looked ten feet tall, shadowing the sun with his strength and size. “It’s so obvious that you’re a responsible, capable, caring person. Shit, I’ve known you one day and I can already see that.”

More warmth filled Zane. He stood up straight too, closer to Noah. God, this guy made him want to spill all his secrets and fears. “Patty—that’s her name—resents me; I don’t know why. Maybe she doesn’t think Burt should have cared for me as his own son. Maybe she thinks the money he spent on me would have been better saved or spent elsewhere. Maybe she thinks the little inheritance Burt did leave me should have gone to her and her two sons. Not that the money lasted long once I took care of the bills left over from Burt’s illness.” With a shrug, Zane added, “In any case, that’s why I need an address, and why I need to find a full-time job. If she gets a whiff that I’m having financial trouble right now,”
God if she only knew how much,
Zane shuddered with the thought of the money he owed Clint, “she’ll petition for Duncan and Hailey.” Zane’s heart dropped into his stomach with a nauseating thud, and he grimaced. “And I’m afraid that no matter what Burt wanted, she would get them.”

Leaning closer, Noah squeezed Zane’s shoulder. “Hey,” the grittiness in his soft tone only made Zane listen even closer, “you have an address now—at least until I’m told the owner wants to start showing the cabin again.” Going quiet, Noah took another step in, and he curled his hand around Zane’s nape. As his stare caught Zane’s, he moved his fingers, and the rough skin of his thumb scraped against Zane’s Adam’s apple. Zane’s breath caught in response, and a little shiver rolled through him. Noah immediately narrowed his stare, muttered a curse, and backed away. Whacking Zane’s arm instead, almost hard enough to knock Zane over, Noah backed around the truck, pointing as he said, “If I hear anything about a job, I’ll let you know.”

Replaying what had just happened, Zane mumbled, “Thanks.” As he watched Noah stride around the truck like a bat out of hell, Zane cocked his head, and his brow pulled. “Um, yeah. I appreciate it.”

Noah climbed in behind the wheel. “No problem.” Reaching across the seat, he jammed the heel of his hand into the handle on the passenger side and opened the door for Zane. “Let’s go.” Business ruled his tone and movements. “Time to get back to work.”

Without further comment, Zane took his seat and buckled himself in. One glance at Noah showed the guy focused on backing his truck up to the paved road hidden by a line of trees, his hands strong on the wheel, his stare pinpoint on his rearview mirror.

Still, Zane kept stealing looks at the man and thinking,
What the hell?
He didn’t know shit about anything that had to do with relationships and attraction and stuff like that, but he could still feel Noah’s big hand curled around his nape. They’d been close enough for Zane to sense a subtle change in Noah’s breathing too. For two heartbeats there, Zane had thought Noah wanted to kiss him. Zane thought he’d sensed interest, desire, in Noah. And more than that, just as Zane had thought Noah was going to lean in and press their lips together, Zane had gone a little breathless too.
Good God.
Zane’s neck and jaw still burned with heat where Noah had touched him.
It can’t be.

Zane sneaked another peek at Noah, and the man looked all business and professional.
Nothing happened. It was my imagination.
Relief washed through Zane, and he slumped against the door of the truck. Noah exhibited such a natural kindness; clearly Zane was projecting his own gratitude onto Noah and making things weird. He needed to back the fuck up and stop seeing things that weren’t there. He needed to stop acting strangely too, or Noah would do one thing to Zane for sure: he would kick Zane out of the cabin before he even had a chance to get himself and his siblings settled in the place.

Aside from that, Zane needed to be real with himself. He didn’t know shit. He didn’t have any firsthand experience, so he had no place thinking he knew how to read moves in another person. Especially another man.
Yeah,
Zane studied Noah one more time out of his peripheral vision,
everything is fine.

Still, for the rest of the ride back to the job site, Zane kept rubbing his neck. He couldn’t get the feel of Noah’s hand on his skin out of his mind.

* * * *

Hours later Noah secured the last of his equipment to the flatbed of his truck, waited for Zane to climb down too, and then closed the tailgate.

Taking a step back, Zane raised his arms high above his head. With a little groan, he shifted to stretch his back. “That’s it?”

“That’s it. For today anyway,” Noah qualified, amused as he watched Zane work the kinks out of his body from nine hours of physical labor. “You did a great job. Thank you.”

“Thank you for the work,” Zane replied, another little moan mixed in—this one making Noah imagine the kinds of groans he should not be associating with this young man.

Heat burned Noah’s flesh, and he scrambled to the front of his truck. “Speaking of which…” After letting himself in through the passenger door, Noah unlocked the glove box and removed his wallet. “Let me pay you.” Noah counted out what he considered a fair price for Zane’s work and then handed the cash to Zane. “There you go.”

Zane folded the bills and stuffed them in his pocket. “I appreciate it.”

Noah looked down at Zane’s pocket, and raised a brow. “You’re not going to count it?”

“After everything you’ve done for me,” Zane shot an eyebrow raise right back at Noah, “I’m not worried you’re going to shortchange me for a day’s work.”

“Fair enough.” Jerking his head toward his truck, Noah then eyed Zane’s car. “So I guess that’s it.” His brain told him to leave, but his feet stayed rooted in place. “We’re done here.”

Leaning in, Zane grabbed Noah’s wrist, tilted it, and checked his watch. “I just have enough time to go to the grocery store before picking up Duncan and Hailey from the youth center.”

Shit.
Once again, Noah’s belly fluttered with just that whisper-soft contact to his wrist. The sensation wandered dangerously south, toward stirring his cock. As discreetly as he could, Noah rubbed his forearm against his shirt and tried to make the tingles go away. “I’ll let you go then.” This time, Noah did take a step to leave.

“Wait!” With a lunge, Zane grabbed Noah’s arm. Again. “After everything you’ve done for me,” a sweet blush filled Zane’s cheeks, and the tell grabbed hard at places too close to Noah’s heart, “I at least owe you a meal. If you want to give me an hour and a half to get myself back to the cabin, you could come over and eat with us.” With a shrug, Zane shoved his hands into his pockets. “Maybe give us that painting lesson.”

Pure light lifted Noah and flooded him with endorphins. “I would love—”
Goddamn motherfucking shit.
As fast as Noah soared, he crashed back down to earth hard enough to make his teeth rattle. “I can’t come.”
Don’t say it.
He added, “I have a date tonight.”

Zane’s face fell. “Oh.”

Staring at Zane, getting too lost too fast in pools of blue, fighting sexual and romantic things he shouldn’t be feeling, Noah blurted, “It’s with another man.”

Chapter 3

The words of Noah’s confession hung between Noah and Zane like wet clothes dripping on a line.

It’s. With. Another. Man.

What in the fuck had made Noah share that his upcoming date was with a guy? Zane stood before him with his jaw practically on the ground, his eyes as big as Noah had ever seen them, and Noah wanted to slink under his truck and die.

“I’m sorry.” Noah blabbed some more, his mouth apparently unable to stop spewing words. “I don’t know why I said that.”

Both of Zane’s brows lifted. “So it’s not true?”

“Shit,” Noah muttered. He scrubbed his face, feeling more lines being added by the minute. “No, I didn’t mean I was lying. It is true.”

More lines pulled across Zane’s forehead. “So you were married, but now you’re gay.”

“No.” Catching himself, Noah bit off another curse, and corrected himself. “Yes, I was married, but I suspect I was always gay. I mean… Fuck.” Snapping his mouth shut again, Noah clasped his hands behind his neck, looked toward the sky, exhaled, and then came back to blue eyes that scrutinized him much too closely for comfort.
Shit.