Stable Hill

by Jodi Payne

  “Are you?” He stood as well. “Or are you just trying to make a buck, Jeffrey?”

  “What?”

  “How is it in my best interest to go completely stone-cold business on this sale if I don’t want to? If I actually do care about who buys? You take a percentage, right? So you stand to make more money if I sell it high?”

  “Well, of course, but—”

  “So it’s in your best interest, more than mine.”

  “Oscar, that’s unfair. I have colleagues who are laughing at me because they know the money is in the developer, but I’ve been stubbornly looking for farmers anyway. Every Realtor who sees the place tells me the same thing. The house is losing us the sale.”

  “There’s a buyer out there. There’s someone who will love that house.”

  “Yeah. You.”

  He snorted. “Look. Do you need me to hire someone else? Take this off your plate?”

  “I don’t know. Are you going to continue to accuse me of trying to line my own pockets?”

  He shook his head. “No. I’m sorry. It’s my parents’ house, you know? My childhood is in that house, and it was a good one. This is really difficult for me. It’s the right thing to do, but it’s difficult. I….” God, I don’t mean to be an asshole. Why am I such an asshole? “I’m so tired of losing, Jeffrey. Losing people, losing the farm. So tired.”

  “Oh, Oz. Baby, I understand.” Jeffrey moved closer to him, slid a hand along his jaw. He leaned into the touch. He needed it so much. “You’re letting go of the past to make a better future for your girls. And a better future for yourself. For us.”

  “Us?” He stared into Jeffrey’s eyes. They were warm, emotional.

  Jeffrey nodded. “I adore your family, Oz. Spending time with them. Rose is so sweet and acts like a mom to me and those girls. I just love them all. Especially the twins. I want to be a part of that.”

  “Jeffrey—”

  “Are you hearing me, Oscar? I love you.”

  He nodded. He ached so hard, he thought he might tear right in half, but he heard. And he was more sure every minute that he felt the same way. “I hear you. I do. I love you too.”

  Jeffrey kissed him hard. He couldn’t breathe, didn’t need to. He needed this more.

  “We love you, Russ and I, both. We want… you. Them. All of it.”

  “Jeffrey.” He took another kiss, not caring if his lover saw the tears on his face. They were real. He felt more real right now than he had in years.

  “We’ll take care of you. You belong to us now. Go see Russ and tell him we talked. Tell him how you feel. He needs it, Oscar. We all do.”

  “Okay. I will. You’re okay if I—”

  “More than okay,” Jeffrey interrupted, smiling.

  He kissed Jeffrey again. “We’ll see you tomorrow?”

  “Saturdays are sacred. I’ll be there.”

  He made his way toward the office door. “I didn’t want to argue. I’m sorry. I just needed to know what was going on, and… please, I don’t want any more developers coming through.”

  “You won’t see another one. These guys are going to make a bid to win it.”

  “You’ll turn them down.”

  “Oscar.”

  “Jeffrey, turn them down. I love you. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  TWO DAYS back-to-back, Oscar drove through the Stable Hill gate and up the driveway. Saturday would make three in a row. Russ could get used to having his men around on the regular, even if it did mean he didn’t get all of his work done. That pile of tack that needed cleaning was laughing at him from the tack room, but Miles didn’t complain. The man would just nod and rally whoever was needed to get shit done. Miles had told him a hundred times that a farm manager didn’t need to be mucking stalls and cleaning tack. But the farm wasn’t bringing in as much money from hay sales like it used to, and he really felt like idle hands was a luxury they couldn’t afford.

  While it would be nice to see Oscar, Russ was a little worried. It was Friday afternoon, and his lover really ought to be at work, but instead Oscar was coming from Jeffrey’s office. He had a bad feeling that meant they’d finally sold Stable Hill and Oscar was headed his way to break it to him personally.

  Russ watched the minivan pull up the drive and park. God, that thing was ugly. The man who stepped out looked good, though, in jeans and a button-down, leather jacket squaring up his lover’s shoulders real nice. Oscar gave him a wave and a smile through one of the front porch windows and then came on in.

  “Hi.” He hopped up off the couch and went to Oscar, sighing as Oscar pulled him in and kissed him, and oh, oh God—it wasn’t an apology or a consolation. It was deep and slow, intense, needful. A groan rumbled low in Oscar’s chest, and he answered with a moan.

  “Hello,” Oscar said finally, eyes on his, a hint of a smile in them, and more than a hint of heat.

  He smiled back. “What’s going on? Did you sell the farm?”

  Oscar gave him a curious look. “No. No we haven’t yet. Is that why you thought I was coming?”

  “From Jeffrey’s office? On a—”

  “On a Friday afternoon. God. I’m sorry, Russ. Did we worry you?”

  “Some.” Oscar hadn’t let him go. They were still in the foyer, talking inches away from each other.

  “I came to…. Jeffrey and I talked, and it was a good conversation, and he told me that the two of you… that I should tell you that he told me—”

  “I love you.” He blurted, knowing where Oscar was going and understanding that his lover was anxious. It was okay. Like Jeffrey had said, Oscar was complicated. They had to open their arms wide enough for all of Oscar’s baggage, and the man would bring it right in.

  Oscar sighed and grinned at him. “I was supposed to say that first.”

  “It’s not a race, mister. You don’t lose just because you came in second.” He wanted to hear it, though, so bad his heart was pounding.

  Oscar laughed and kissed him again, another deep one, and he could feel the words coming, building a path from Oscar’s soul to his. “I love you, Russ. I’m yours.”

  “Yes.” His. Finally. “I’m yours, Oscar. Have been for so long.”

  Oscar nodded. “Take me upstairs and let me show you.”

  Fuck, those words were good too. So good.

  He took Oscar’s hand and led him upstairs, Oscar following him, simple as could be, past what had been Oscar’s mother’s room and the little room that had been Oscar’s once before it was his, to the big room at the end of the hall that he’d come to feel with everything in him was theirs.

  His and Oscar’s and Jeff’s.

  Oscar crowded him through the door and kissed him again, warm hands roaming over his belly. He reached down to tug his T-shirt off, and Oscar helped, lifting it up and over his head. “Mmm. One of my favorite views.”

  He smiled, accepting the compliment, letting it build him up. “Just a hard day’s work.”

  “It’s hot, Russ.” Oscar’s hands were roaming over his skin, leaving goose bumps behind as they slid over his chest, his arms, down his back.

  He reached forward and pushed Oscar’s coat off, then started in on the buttons of Oscar’s shirt—one, another, two more. Oscar bent and took one of his nipples between careful teeth, and the pinch and burn made him moan. Then Oscar was suddenly on his knees, pulling at his belt, lowering his fly.

  “Oscar.” Oscar tugged his jeans down, baring his ass and making his cock smack against Oscar’s cheek. He looked down, letting that sight sink in. “Fuck.”

  Oscar didn’t reply, just raised those blue eyes to Russ’s and let Russ push his cock past those lips, the head rubbing against Oscar’s soft palate. “Oh God. God.” He made a needy sound, one that betrayed just how much he wanted, everything he needed.

  Oscar’s hands traveled up his abs, over his hips and around to his ass, rubbing and massaging the muscles they found along the way. He watched his prick disappear into Oscar
’s mouth again and again, his balls aching and his breath shallow. Oscar devoured him hungrily, sucking and licking, teasing his hot spots with a clever tongue. “Fuck. Oscar…. Oscar!”

  His lover groaned for him and gave his ass a final squeeze before standing slowly. “You taste good.”

  “You feel so good.” He pushed into Oscar’s arms and lifted his face for a kiss, wanting more. Oscar backed him up until his knees hit the bed and they finished undressing each other between kisses and smiles, laughter and moans, fingers tangling when they’d meet and hands touching everything as Oscar’s blue jeans hit the floor.

  He still hadn’t quite caught his breath when he crawled up on the bed, then slid backward. Or maybe he had and it started all over again. Oscar was on him in a flat second, shouldering him onto his back.

  Oscar looked into his eyes. “I love you.”

  He nodded, watching the softness he loved in Oscar’s gaze turn heated. “I know.”

  “You will.”

  Oh fuck. He liked the sound of that.

  Oscar began gently tasting along the line of his jaw and down the tendons in his neck. His lover’s teeth found the curve where neck met shoulder, sending a shiver through him and making him groan. Each of his nipples were sweetly tortured in turn until he couldn’t be still anymore. Oscar knew how that drove him mad and didn’t let up until he arched and rolled under his lover, squirming and sliding his heels in the sheets.

  And all the while Oscar stroked him slowly and kept him needing enough to cloud his thinking.

  “Beautiful, babe. You look beautiful like this.”

  “Want… I love….” Sweet Jesus, he’d lost words.

  Oscar laughed softly, darkly, and tapped on his thighs, his legs falling open, wide and willing. “That’s it, love. So eager. You want?”

  “Yes. God, yes.” Everything. All of it. Anything.

  He felt Oscar’s fingers press against him, the slick cool on his skin and wondered when the man had…. “Yes. Yes, please!” Fuck it all, he didn’t care. He wanted.

  Oscar gave him a finger and then gently added a second, and Russ bucked against them, taking them deep.

  “Look at you, Russ. All out of patience, baby? So hot.”

  “Yeah.” He rolled, riding Oscar’s fingers as his lover worked and stretched him. He didn’t need much, he was so ready. So goddamn ready for it. “Come on, Oz. Fuck me.”

  “Jesus, Russ.”

  That growl in Oscar’s chest that he loved so much wasn’t lost on him. Oscar liked that. “Fuck me, baby. Need you.” He arched, giving Oscar something to look at, and this time the growl was louder, Oscar’s eyes narrowing as that thick cock pushed inside.

  “Russ. Fuck, so good.”

  “More, Oscar.”

  Russ knew his words would set his lover into a roar. Oscar surged into him at first, deep and strong, thrusts hard and heavy, making them both groan and pant. But after that first burst of pure need, Oscar pulled back, lengthening the strokes and slowing the pace.

  Gathering that control that made him lose his mind.

  It seemed like Oscar could hang on to those reins, hold back his own need, no matter how burning. Or at least the man managed it a lot better than he could. He loved handing it over to both of his men. His eyes locked with Oscar’s and they both smiled, his lover nodding to him.

  Yeah. Hell, yeah.

  “Tomorrow,” he said, voice rough. “You and me and Jeff, yeah?” God, he wanted that. The three of them together, in love.

  “Yeah. Gonna do this first, though.” Oscar laid into him a couple of times, backing up those words, and then slowed again, grinning down at him.

  “So good.”

  The slow and steady build made him dizzy and he hung for what seemed like forever on the edge of begging. He knew Oscar loved it, loved watching him. Got off on it. On him. It was everything Russ wanted.

  “Is it time, baby?”

  He loved the way Oscar asked him that, as if his lover didn’t know damn well he was ready to scream. “Hard.”

  Oscar swallowed, and those bright blue eyes pinned him from under silver bangs. “Yeah?”

  “Really fucking hard. Please.”

  “Jesus Christ.” Oscar’s hips stuttered, such a rare and perfect slip. He was proud of himself for the two seconds before everything got wild.

  Oscar took him at his word, bending him farther and pummeling him over and over, sharing pants and grunts and heated, dirty talk as the room faded, thought faded, until all that was left was rough and animal.

  So perfect.

  “R-Russ. Fuck.” Oscar’s hips trembled and jerked, nailing him in just the right spot.

  “Yes! Fuck! Yes!” That was it. He felt like he was suddenly thirsty and the universe sent him a waterfall. He was about to beg for something he already had. Fireworks went off behind his eyelids and the room got so fucking hot, he couldn’t breathe.

  Oscar grunted and pinned him down, hips pressing deep and both hands on his shoulders. He forced his eyes open, wanting to see, to watch that beautiful agony on his lover’s face.

  They lay there breathing, smiling, taking in each other’s eyes and trading kisses until all he wanted was to fall asleep in Oscar’s arms.

  “I love you,” he said softly, drawing a line across Oscar’s cheek with one finger.

  Oscar caught his hand and kissed it. “I love you.”

  “Stay?”

  “I will. I’ll want to call and check in, but Rose doesn’t expect me home until Sunday.”

  “Really? I get you all day tomorrow?”

  “You get me all night too.”

  Oscar’s words set his skin on fire. “Oh.”

  Soft laughter puffed across his cheek. “Let an old man nap first, love.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  JEFFREY PACED the entire length of the waiting room, one end to the other and back again, every so often poking his head around the corner and looking down the hall to see if Oscar and Russ might be getting off the elevator.

  Rose sat in the only chair that had a view of the hall. Brian’s parents sat stiffly against a different wall, poor Brian sitting motionless between them, looking pale and a little green, the expression on his face still as stone. He’d puked twice since Jeffrey arrived.

  This wasn’t just terrifying; it was also so fucking uncomfortable.

  After trying Oscar’s cell phone a couple of times, Rose finally thought to try Jeffrey’s. She said Oscar had told her they were staying the night together. It was a little awkward when he wasn’t able to put Oscar on the phone, and he had to tell her his lover was actually spending the night at the farm with Russ.

  He could have stretched the truth and just said Oscar was at the farm, but he knew Rose. Then it would have been concern over why Oscar had lied, and had they had a fight—God only knew what a mother could cook up in her mind. Regardless, it wasn’t his responsibility that Oscar hadn’t told the family about their relationship yet.

  Russ was going to have a fucking cow.

  All of that was unimportant at the moment, though, because Oscar’s daughter—

  “He’s here, finally.” Oh, Rose sounded so stressed. Damn.

  “Rose? Jeffrey? Where is she? Is she…? Can I see her?”

  He hugged Oscar and then Russ. “The doctors are with her right now.”

  “What have they told you?” Russ asked him.

  “Rose.” Oscar went to her as she approached them and pulled her into his arms. “I’m so sorry. I should have been home.”

  “Hush, sweetheart. It wouldn’t have changed a thing. Don’t you worry about me.”

  “Who… who is with the girls?”

  “Mary Ellen from church is at the house with them. Her husband, William, drove me over.”

  Oscar nodded. “You’ll remind me to thank them.”

  “Let Jeffrey fill you in, sweetheart.”

  “Yes. Please.”

  “Let me give you the no bullshit good news first, Oscar. S
he’s in surgery, and they’re optimistic it will go well. They asked you about the surgery, right?”

  Oscar nodded, eyes riveted on him.

  “She’s a strong girl, Oz.” He waited for Oscar to nod to make sure he was being heard. Russ stepped up behind Oscar and put an arm around their lover’s back.

  “Give me the rest, Jeffrey.”

  He sighed. “She took a bad blow to the side of the head. She was unconscious when they found her, then conscious for a bit but disoriented and confused.”

  “How… how confused?”

  Rose interrupted, to Jeffrey’s great relief, laying a hand on Oscar’s arm. “She couldn’t answer questions, sweetheart. They’re not sure why.”

  “She didn’t remember…?”

  “That’s one possibility, yes. Or it could have been physical. It could have been a disconnect somewhere. They don’t know yet.”

  “I need to sit down.” Oscar pushed past him and reached for a chair, Russ holding him up slightly. They had just about gotten Oscar seated when—

  “You.” Oscar flew out of his chair again, heading for Brian.

  “Whoa. Hey!” Brian’s father stood up abruptly.

  Jeffrey and Russ fell on Oscar, each grabbing an arm and dragging him back. “Whoa!”

  “The accident wasn’t his fault.”

  “Hey! Hey, hold up. Oscar, it wasn’t Brian’s fault. Look at me.” Jeffrey made Oscar meet his eyes, if just to get them off Brian. “It’s the truth, Oz. Calm down.” He slowly loosened his grip as Oscar started to breathe, started to relax.

  Brian’s mother stood as well and put her arm through her husband’s, but Brian stayed seated, still looking so miserable.

  “Breathe, baby. It’s okay.” Russ could be such a balm for Oscar’s temper.

  Jeffrey slowly let Oscar go. “Brian did everything right.”

  Oscar took a couple of deep breaths, just nodding until those shoulders finally sagged. “Okay. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Brian. I’m…. We’re all upset, I know. I’m sorry.”

  Brian’s father stepped closer. “I’m Ron. This is my wife, Helen. We’re all here pulling for Emily, Mr. Kennedy.”