Past, Present

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Past, Present Page 24

by A J Lange


  Gray’s laughter rang out, vivid and joyful and clear, and Zane knew without a doubt their cover was blown.

  And in a tent across the campsite, a handsome young guide rolled his eyes and cut his losses.

  Chapter 24

  Harry: What are you wearing?

  Zane grinned. He was waiting for Gray to come back with lunch. They had driven through Utah and lower Wyoming, and were now in the Grand Tetons, the name of which never failed to amuse Zane. Zane had finally refused to look at one more trail, lake or moose without sustenance, so Gray had taken the Jeep to the Jenny Lake Lodge dining room to charm them into packing a picnic.

  Zane figured, based on Gray’s insane popularity with everyone ever, he was going to return with a veritable feast. Zane waited at a picnic table on the east shore of Jenny Lake.

  Zane: Nothing. Nothing at all. You?

  Harry: Wonder Woman Chuck’s and a goatee.

  Zane chuckled, grimacing at the vivid and unwanted visual. Great. Well, maybe he could use the image to cool his raging libido when Gray refused to keep his fucking hands to his fucking self in public.

  Harry: But seriously, homefry. How’s my boy?

  Zane considered for a moment, then typed, Perfect. His cheeks were warm, but he didn’t care. Although at times they were unsteady and cautious, Zane knew he and Gray were finally finding their way back to each other. It felt real, and solid.

  Harry: I just threw up in my mouth.

  Harry: Could you be any more disgustingly sweet? Jesus Christ.

  Harry: Why aren’t you answering me? Where’s that famous Zane Nolan filthy mouth. BUT NOT THAT KIND.

  Harry: Wait. You’re not having sex right now, are you?

  Zane laughed again. The funniest response would be no response at all, letting Harry stew in silence.

  Zane: Actually, yes. We are. Gray says hello. And that he’s naked too.

  Harry: OMG. Stop.

  Zane: Not yet, I’m not quite...

  Harry: SERIOUSLY. STOP THAT.

  Harry: So, you’re a shit and ignored my tale of caution and woe and have been riding my brother like a rhinestone cowboy this whole time haven’t you.

  Zane: Your brother is VERY athletic.

  Harry: I never want to talk to you again.

  Zane was still chuckling when Gray climbed from the car with two large white bags.

  “Score,” Zane whistled appreciatively. “Do I want to know what you had to promise to accomplish this?”

  Gray set the bags on the picnic table and bent over, meeting Zane’s upturned face, kiss lingering. “Mmmm. Missed you.”

  Zane’s cheeks flushed with color again, and he rolled his eyes. “You were only gone fifteen minutes,” he said gruffly, covering. God, I missed you too.

  “Felt longer.” Gray methodically pulled items from the sack and Zane leaned forward on his elbows, content to watch. He would gladly sit and observe Gray do any variety of mundane things in his neat and orderly fashion, and had, many times in the past. Zane smiled to himself; he hoped some things never changed.

  After lunch they parked at the visitor center and rode a shuttle boat over to the west side of the lake so they could hike to Hidden Falls. It was mostly up, and Zane was glad for the frequent opportunities to stop and look at the scenery.

  “Out of breath?” Gray’s tongue poked against the inside of his cheek.

  “Shut up,” Zane said. “And give me that.” He grabbed the disposable camera from Gray’s fingers, turning it toward the handsome professor and snapping him mid-laugh, the rushing river churning prettily in the background. Zane frowned. “None of these are going to be awkward pictures of you, are they?” he asked suspiciously.

  “I don’t know what you mean.” But Gray’s eyes were sparkling and clear, and even messy and windblown, his hair was obscenely sexy. Zane knew without a doubt that Gray was hopelessly photogenic.

  “Fuck me,” Zane groaned under his breath. “I’m going to be the dorky looking uncle, aren’t I?”

  Gray crowded him against an aspen. “I’m rather fond of dorky.”

  Zane grinned, Gray’s face entirely too close to be prudent, especially on a well-traversed trail populated by families and tourists. “Yeah?”

  “Mmm hmm,” Gray nodded, eyes falling to Zane’s mouth.

  Zane let Gray kiss him anyway, tourists be damned, closing his eyes and savoring the pounding of his heart in response. They broke apart at a high-pitched giggle.

  “Excuse me,” a soft voice sing-songed. A tiny Japanese girl was smiling behind her hand, squeezing past them to continue up the mountainside, her disapproving elderly female relative patently ignoring Zane and Gray.

  Gray wiggled his hips against Zane’s. “I don’t think she liked us.”

  Zane pecked a quick kiss to his mouth and gently pushed him back. “She’s probably jealous of this fine American specimen you caught right here.” He thumped his chest for emphasis.

  “Hmmm,” Gray mused, narrowing his brow to study Zane. “The Japanese do seem to enjoy the outlandish Americans. Which flies in the face of their love of geek.”

  “Hey, Tanner’s the geek, not me.” Zane sighed as they began to climb the hill again. Maybe he should find a new gym to join when they got home.

  “Oh, that’s right. You’re dorky.”

  “I’m not dorky. I’m a stud.” Zane stumbled over a tree root.

  “Uh huh. Let me give you a little boost there, tubby.” Gray pulled Zane behind him, his hand closing tight around Zane’s fingers.

  “Oh my God, would you stop with the fat jokes? You’re going to give me a complex.” Zane’s lungs were on fire, but he refused to gasp for some much-needed oxygen, face red with the effort to breathe quietly.

  “If you’ll remember, Zane,” Gray said, serene and without an ounce of exertion, fuck him, “I requested you skip wearing clothes altogether. You refused.”

  Zane smiled weakly at the elderly couple beside them, who had stopped for a breather. Grandpa quickly averted his eyes, but grandma winked at Zane.

  Gray continued, oblivious. “And I would do so even if you were truly fat.”

  “Gray, shut up,” Zane huffed. But he clung to Gray’s fingers, and God, he loved him in that instant. All one hundred and seventy five pounds of amazingly fit and toned endurance of him.

  The prize for all of the brain cells Zane lost to lack of oxygen was Hidden Falls, a cascade of water tumbling in a lovely rush of foaming white over the side of the mountain. The Japanese lady from before horned in front of Zane before he could snap a photo, and he frowned, opening his mouth to complain but slamming it shut when Gray palmed his ass.

  “Give her a minute, sweetheart. She’s a visitor to our country.” Gray’s lips were against his temple and Zane shivered. Gray hadn’t used endearments in a very long time. So long, in fact, Zane was breathless for an entirely different reason than before. He might even have allowed Gray to cuddle him close for a brief moment before stepping forward to frame his shot.

  The small figure stepped in front of him again and Zane frowned down at her again in consternation.

  “Photo? You?” She waved her hand between he and Gray and Zane smiled as understanding dawned.

  “Yes,” he nodded, “thank you.” Zane pulled Gray close, and she snapped the photo.

  “Pretty,” she said, handing the camera back.

  Zane smiled at Gray’s profile. “Yes, he is.”

  Gray laughed self-consciously and rubbed his neck. He gave the woman a small bow. “Thank you,” he said politely. She bowed her head and moved away to join her family.

  Coming down the mountainside was not as strenuous ,but certainly more exciting, than going up. Zane was less shy about taking Gray’s hand when he needed a grounding touch, and each brush of fingers and clasp of palms was thrilling. He thought back several months to the days he had spent trying to convince himself it was okay to hold Gray’s hand in private; if only his past self could see Zane now. He was even sneaking
small kisses and other affectionate touches whenever he felt like it, loving the way Gray warmed to the attention, seemingly craving it as much as Zane.

  As exciting as touching Gray would remain, Zane assumed, for the duration of his life, the most exciting thing on the trail down the mountain was the bull moose who decided to confront the humans occupying his habitat. Unfortunately for the hikers on the trail, a teenage boy lost his shit and began flailing his arms and screaming; the bull moose charged, frightened and angry, and the boy barely missed being trampled over the cliff and into the river below, before the moose turned away at the last minute, diving through the underbrush and disappearing into the forest.

  “Did you think you were going to protect me from that, Zane? Really?”

  Zane could hear the amusement in Gray’s voice and realized that he had shoved the other man behind him in the chaos and panic that had struck the small group. He dropped his outstretched arms. He could feel tension locking up his neck and jaw, and his heart beat a heavy staccato rhythm in his throat. It had been a while since the last time Zane faced down fear for someone’s safety. Or for his heart.

  He rolled his shoulders. “I thought this wide load of mine would make a good shield,” he joked, voice strained.

  He started when Gray wrapped an arm around his waist and pressed his chest to Zane’s back. Zane felt himself relax. “You would be my shield, Zane? My knight?” he asked against Zane’s cheek.

  Zane shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t see any more hot young tour guides offering to slay your dragons.” He placed his hand over Gray’s at his waist and squeezed.

  Gray kissed Zane’s jaw, the angle awkward, but the brush of lips as welcome as the words that accompanied it. “Hot young tour guides are overrated. I much prefer gorgeous, mature, bar owners with rock hard abs.” His fingers fluttered low over Zane’s torso and Zane clenched his teeth, skin tingling under each feathery stroke.

  “We need to get off this fucking mountain.”

  “Yup,” Gray said, kissing his cheek again before taking the lead.

  Zane enjoyed the view until the view turned and winked at him.

  “You’re with me, Nolan. Move it.”

  ◆◆◆

  Yellowstone National Park stunk.

  This was Zane’s layman’s opinion of course. The first geyser they stopped at was at West Thumb, on the lower west side of Lake Yellowstone. There was a small, muddy hole in the ground near the parking lot that bubbled and steamed, and it smelled of sulfur. Zane was not impressed.

  Gray rolled his eyes. “This is just one small piece of it, look,” he said, holding out the map. “Some of these pools are quite famous for their beautiful colors.”

  Zane squinted but he couldn’t really see in the fading light. “I’m tired, my butt hurts, and I’m hungry.” He leaned into Gray and nuzzled at his neck. “And I want you. Can we come back in the morning?”

  Gray turned Zane’s shoulders back towards the Jeep. “How can you already be hungry? You just ate two bananas and a granola bar.”

  “That’s not food.”

  “Zane. That’s food.” Gray slid in front of him to sit behind the wheel and held out his hand for the keys. Zane stood in the open door, mouth open. “What?”

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Zane asked, voice climbing in pitch.

  “I’m driving. Give me the keys.” Gray shut the door and rolled down the window. “And get in. It’s getting cold.”

  “Who said you could drive,” Zane grumbled, shoving the keys through the window and stalking around the front of the car.

  Gray waited until Zane’s seatbelt had clicked into place before he answered. “I’m a perfectly capable driver. And you need to rest. You look like shit.”

  “Gee, thanks,” Zane sputtered indignantly.

  Gray patted his knee.

  “Both hands on the wheel,” Zane growled, staring out the passenger side window.

  “I’m going to get you the biggest, juiciest bison burger you’ve ever eaten,” Gray began, his voice low and dark and humming with sex. Zane fidgeted restlessly in his seat. “Then, I’m going to draw you a deep, hot bath and wash away the dust and grime of the day’s journey.”

  Zane dropped his head back against the headrest, letting Gray’s smoky voice wash over him.

  “Next, I’m going to put you in bed where I’ll give you a massage, work all of the knots and tender places free—“

  “Gray?" Zane murmured.

  “Yes, Zane. ”

  “You’re fucking hot.”

  Gray chuckled in the darkening car, flipping the headlights to bright so he could better see the road ahead. “And so are you. Now shut up and let me finish my bedtime story.”

  ◆◆◆

  They made it back to West Thumb the next morning (where Zane grudgingly admitted the pools were fascinatingly turquoise and lovely) before driving further west to sit on an arced wooden bench, waiting for Old Faithful to erupt.

  “It says forty-five minutes.”

  “It’s a geological anomaly, Zane, not an alarm clock.”

  Zane waited. “I’m not sitting here an hour and a half waiting on this thing. Can’t they make it go any faster?”

  Gray blinked at him, seemingly lost for words.

  “Why are you looking at me like that? It was a simple question.”

  “I’m just contemplating our future children’s academia.”

  Zane squirmed on the bench. “How many future children are we talking about?” The tempo of his pulse jumped tenfold.

  “Four? Five?”

  “Four or five! Are you out of your mind?!”

  Gray looked at Zane with his serious blue eyes, all shiny and gorgeous and Goddammit, Zane hadn’t let himself even think about Gray long term yet, much less kids!

  Gray finally shrugged. “I enjoyed growing up in a big family. How many were you thinking?”

  Zane’s mouth worked open and closed. “Two?” he squeaked. He was hyperventilating. Where was that damn paper bag that held his postcards from the gift shop? Zane concentrated on breathing through his nose.

  Gray slid a hand along the bench until it rested on the wood beneath Zane’s hip. He bumped Zane’s shoulder. “Open your eyes, Zane or you’ll miss it.”

  Zane blinked. And sure enough, Old Faithful was erupting. He smiled in delight then looked quickly at Gray, suddenly suspicious. “Was all that baby talk just to distract me?”

  Gray answered by pulling Zane’s face to his and kissing him enthusiastically, mindless of the crowd surrounding them. “What do you think,” he whispered against Zane’s mouth.

  Zane watched the ancient plume of water shoot skyward, and felt carefree pleasure bubbling inside him, much like Old Faithful herself. Zane was going to explode with it, erupt with this newfound happiness until the entirety of his existence had no choice but to fall into line. He thought he might be okay with that.

  “Two, Gray,” he repeated, voice at a more normal pitch. “Let’s start with two.”

  ◆◆◆

  They were hiking at Mammoth Hot Springs, a wintry-appearing wonderland of white calcium carbonate terraces, when Tanner called; Lily was in labor.

  “We’ll leave now, Tanner, but I don’t know if we’ll make it in time. Can you tell Lily to hold on for a couple of days?” Zane’s face had split wide in a grin. He was going to be an uncle.

  Gray held his elbow as he leaned close to Zane, so he could hear the conversation over speaker too.

  “Sure Zane, I’ll just tell her to cross her legs.”

  Zane scoffed. “Clearly, that didn’t work the first time, Tanner.”

  “Zane. Seriously.” Tanner’s voice was harried but excited, and Zane chuckled.

  “Okay, okay. I’ll lay off, but just until my nephew gets here.” Zane smiled into Gray’s eyes, so near his own.

  “Drive careful,” Tanner said, then added, “Hey, Gray.”

  Gray’s eyes widened in surprise. “Hello, Tanner.” Gray shifted fro
m one foot to the next. He and Tanner hadn’t spoken since the hospital.

  “We’re both excited to see you. Keep Zane under eighty, okay?”

  Gray smiled at the phone in Zane’s palm. “I can do that. Good luck, Tanner. We’ll be there as quick as we can.”

  Zane might have needed to swipe at his eyes a moment later, when Gray wasn’t looking.

  ◆◆◆

 

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