Conquer the Flames (Langs Down) (23 page)

“That’s a question for you and him,” Kami said, “but I’ll tell you the two things Sarah has taught me: love him unreservedly and have patience with his scars.”

Thorne froze. He hadn’t let himself think about love. It wasn’t in the cards for him, not as fucked up as his head was, but the minute Kami put words to it, he knew the emotion rang true. Sometime in the past month, he’d fallen in love.

“I can do that,” he said in a choked voice. “If he’ll let me.”

“I’m quite sure he won’t,” Kami said sardonically. “That’s where the patience comes in. I’ve seen it before, with Macklin, with Jesse, with Sam, with Neil. They don’t believe they deserve to be loved and so they try to reject it when it comes. No reason Ian should be any different. No reason to expect you to be any different either. You might be new here, but you’d be one of Caine’s strays if Ian hadn’t got to you first.”

“Your wife mentioned that the station has a tradition of taking in people in need of a home,” Thorne said neutrally.

“You’re sleeping on Ian’s couch,” Kami pointed out. “I think you fit the description, but yes, Lang Downs has always taken in the people no one else knew to value. You belong here as surely as the rest of us do.”

“As long as I don’t put anyone in danger,” Thorne said bitterly.

“So don’t,” Kami said with a shrug. “Do what you need to do to put your past to rest, so it doesn’t threaten anyone.”

“I wouldn’t know where to start,” Thorne admitted.

“Then maybe you’d better figure that out.”

T
HORNE
collapsed onto Ian’s couch with a sigh after dinner. If anyone had asked, he would have said riding a horse couldn’t be all that hard on the rider since the horse was doing most of the work. He’d never been so wrong in his life. Every muscle in his lower body hurt, and he wasn’t sure his thighs would ever close again. He feared he’d be permanently bowlegged.

Ian laughed at him unrepentantly, but Thorne didn’t care. His bruised dignity aside, it had been another wonderful day spent in each other’s company learning the skills he would need if he intended to stay on the station. Even more, it had been fun. Ian was a patient teacher and Titan was a docile horse, and by the time Ian had released him from lessons for the day, Thorne had grown comfortable with the basics of riding. He just couldn’t walk now.

“I was thinking about Wagga Wagga,” Ian said as he joined Thorne on the couch. “We both have Wednesday off, and Neil said he could spare us on Thursday as well if that suits your friend.”

“You’re coming with me?” Thorne asked, feeling like a kid on Christmas morning.

“If you still want me to,” Ian said. “I don’t want to be in your way or anything, but you asked, and, well—”

“Of course I still want you to come,” Thorne interrupted. His muscles protested as he sat up and turned to face Ian, but he ignored the soreness. He’d dealt with worse. “After what you said the other night, I didn’t think you’d want to, and I’d be fine if that’s what you decided.”

“I thought about it,” Ian admitted. “Neil even offered to be the bad guy so I’d have an excuse not to go.”

“What changed your mind?” Thorne was thrilled at the thought that Ian really did want to go with him. Whatever had brought that about, he needed to do more of it.

“Neil convinced me I had more to gain by going with you than I had to lose,” Ian said. “Maybe it’ll be a disaster, but you asked me to come, so I’ll go meet your friend.”

Thorne couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his face as he pulled Ian closer. He nuzzled his cheek and then bent his head to kiss Ian tenderly. He was tempted to deepen the kiss, but this wasn’t about passion, and Kami’s words still rang in his head.
Love him unreservedly.
Instead he touched their foreheads together and tried not to imagine what it would feel like to tug Ian’s shirt out of the way and lick and kiss all over his torso. Ian had made it visibly clear he wasn’t ready for that kind of intimacy, and Thorne wouldn’t push, no matter how much he wanted to know if Ian’s skin was as smooth as it had looked the other night or to see if the delightful blushes that sometimes stained his cheeks extended down below the collar of his shirt.

Ian might not be ready to take his own shirt off, but he had no qualms getting his hands underneath Thorne’s shirt, not that Thorne was complaining. The minute he felt Ian’s hands on his waist, he lifted his arms to facilitate his disrobing. It had been torture of the most amazingly pleasurable kind, having Ian run his hands over him and not being able to make Ian feel the same mind-blowing pleasure, but it was torture he would willingly endure if it helped Ian trust him more. Not unexpectedly, Ian took advantage of Thorne’s position to strip off his T-shirt, leaving Thorne bare to the waist. He leaned back as he had done before, letting the arm of the couch bear his weight so Ian could look and touch his fill.

“Tell me about your tattoos?” Ian asked, tracing the one on Thorne’s left shoulder.

“It’s the emblem of the Commandos,” Thorne said.

“And the others?” Ian asked.

“Dates I don’t ever want to forget,” Thorne said. He hoped Ian wouldn’t ask what the dates represented. He didn’t want to talk about his parents, his squad, or even leaving the Commandos right now. He wanted to focus on Ian. Fortunately his answer seemed to satisfy Ian’s curiosity because he nodded and turned his attention to exploring Thorne’s chest.

Ian’s hands were hot on his skin and rough with calluses from years of hard work. Thorne hadn’t expected life on the station to be easy, but he hadn’t realized just how physically demanding it was until he started spending his days with Ian. Up before dawn, working until nearly dusk, pulling fences, setting fence posts, riding horses and watching the sheep, and all that was while Ian was still on light duty. Thorne didn’t even want to think about what would happen when Ian was fully back at work. Then Ian carded his fingers through Thorne’s chest hair, coming tantalizingly close to his nipples, and all extraneous thought disappeared. Thorne’s world narrowed to the touch of Ian’s hands and the heat of his body. He was rock hard already, and they’d barely started. He felt like he was fifteen again, but he blamed that on how worked up he was by the end of the evening, with no true satisfaction in sight. He’d relieved himself in the shower, but it wasn’t what he wished he could have. He wouldn’t pressure Ian, though, not when Ian leaned against him so trustingly now, not worried, like he’d been the first night, that Thorne would press for more.

He curled his hand around the nape of Ian’s neck and pulled him in for a kiss. Whatever else would or wouldn’t happen between them tonight, Ian had become as eager to kiss Thorne as Thorne was to kiss him. When Ian shifted to mate their mouths more easily, he settled his palms directly on top of Thorne’s nipples, and Thorne gasped into the kiss.

Ian started to pull back, but Thorne shook his head and kept Ian close. It took a minute, but Ian settled back into the kiss. He didn’t move his hands away, which Thorne took as a victory, but neither did he do anything to stimulate Thorne more. Then again, given how having Ian in his arms kissing him made Thorne feel, he didn’t need stimulation.

Ian shifted again until he was practically lying on top of Thorne, a position not well suited to hiding how hard he was. Ian hadn’t said it, and Thorne honestly didn’t want to hear it, but he suspected Ian had been raped. Kissing was safe and easy, as was making out like this on the couch, and Thorne didn’t want to ruin that because Ian realized how hard he was. Thorne shifted his hips, trying to get Ian to lie down next to him instead of nearly on top of him, but Ian didn’t take the hint, so Thorne ran his hands down to Ian’s shoulders to urge him to the side. He felt Ian’s muscles tense through the fabric of his shirt, and a spark of anger flared in him. No one deserved to be hurt, least of all Ian, and Thorne felt a burning hatred for the faceless man who had left Ian with such insecurities. When he jerked his hands away so as not to make Ian uncomfortable, Ian shook his head.

“You don’t have to stop.”

Thorne wished that meant he could roll Ian beneath him and make love to him all night long, but he knew better than to think that. He did let his hands roam over Ian’s back, though, feeling the wiry strength of his body through the cloth. Ian hummed and returned to kissing Thorne, and Thorne took what he was given and was grateful for it.

Seventeen

T
HEY
hadn’t left the station as early as they’d planned, so by the time they reached Wagga Wagga, it was nearly dinnertime. Thorne had told Walker they’d be there in time for dinner, so they didn’t have time to go by the hotel where they’d be staying before they went to Walker’s flat.

“I wanted to make a good first impression,” Ian muttered as they pulled into the car park.

“Relax,” Thorne said. “He’s just got back from six months in East Timor. Compared to the way everyone looked and smelled there, you’re positively fresh.”

“Gee, thanks.” Ian rolled his eyes. “That’s exactly the comparison I wanted him to make.”

“Ian, relax,” Thorne repeated. “He isn’t going to care that we came straight here, and we’re probably going out to a local, anyway, where people will be coming straight from work. It’s not going to be a problem. I promise.”

Ian wasn’t sure that was a promise Thorne could keep, but he hadn’t let Ian down yet, so he relaxed into the reassurance as requested. They left the safety of the car and walked up to Walker’s apartment.

The door opened moments after their knock. “Getting shaggy there, Lachlan,” the man who answered the door said as he pulled Thorne into a tight hug. “Civilian life agrees with you.”

Thorne laughed, the sound sending a spike of jealousy through Ian. He’d spent nearly a month with Thorne and knew how rarely the other man laughed, but one offhand comment from Walker and Thorne was laughing like a loon.

“Ian, this is my old Commando buddy, Sergeant Nick Walker. Walker, this is Ian Duncan. He’s one of the crew bosses at Lang Downs, the sheep station where I’m working.”

“Nice to meet you, Duncan,” Walker said, offering his hand to Ian.

“Please, call me Ian,” Ian replied as he shook Walker’s hand. “I’m not the kind to stand on formality.”

“You’re welcome to call me Nick too, although I won’t promise I’ll answer. After all these years in the military, I answer to Walker more than to Nick.” He opened the door wider to invite them both inside.

“How long have you been in?” Ian asked for lack of anything better to say.

“Nineteen years next month,” Walker said. “I have one year left and then I have to decide if I’m going to stay in or get out. I don’t have the rank to get stuck in a desk job like Lachlan would have, so I can re-up and stay in the field if I want.”

“What would you do if you got out?”

“That’s the problem,” Thorne said. “For the people who do a short stint, they have time to get other training, but for us career soldiers, it’s a different situation entirely.”

“We serve our time, and then we’re pretty much left adrift unless we want to sign on again to serve more time,” Walker agreed.

“Sounds like you already know what you’re going to do,” Ian commented.

“I don’t know. Lachlan found something else to do with himself,” Walker replied. “Maybe there’s room for one more on that sheep station of his.”

Another surge of jealousy washed through Ian, but he’d learned Michael’s lessons too well to assure Walker they didn’t need any more help. “That’s not my decision to make, but I’ve never known Lang Downs to turn away someone in need,” he said instead. It was both honest and noncommittal. The ball was in Walker’s court now. If he showed up in a year, Ian would have to decide what to do about it and whether it was worth fighting Thorne’s best friend to keep what he hoped was the tentative beginning of something real and lasting.

“So, what are you doing for Christmas, Lachlan?” Walker asked. “You coming down here like you did last year?”

“No,” Thorne replied, much to Ian’s relief. “I’m going to stay at Lang Downs with everyone there.”

Walker’s surprise showed on his face. “You said you were working there. You didn’t say you’d decided to stay.”

“We haven’t exactly had a chance to talk since I got there,” Thorne retorted. “I’ll tell you everything you want to know, but Ian and I have had a long drive. We could use a pint and something to eat.”

“Sure, mate. Let me just grab my keys.”

They took Walker’s car to the local pub, and it was obvious from the way they were greeted that Walker was a regular when he was in town. He introduced Thorne and Ian. Thorne got the same hero’s welcome Walker did, and Ian reminded himself he’d done nothing to deserve it and not to be jealous. He was going to kill Neil when he got back to the station. This had been an unmitigatedly bad idea, but before he could think of an excuse to bow out of the evening and find a way to their hotel, Thorne squeezed his arm and pulled him into the conversation.

Maybe the evening would still be a complete disaster, but Thorne wanted him there. Ian would cling to that.