by Ariel Tachna
“I work in an office,” Gerald objected. “I’m not an independent CPA. I wouldn’t have any idea what to charge.”
Brett frowned. “Can I request your services if I contact your office?”
Gerald’s brow furrowed. “You don’t need to do that. Just let me know what you need.”
“I don’t even know!” Brett exclaimed. “I thought I was doing just fine on my own.”
“I’m not saying you’re not doing a good job. Just that you might be missing out on so much.” Gerald fretted.
“Well, could you glance over them, give me an idea of how much we’re talking so I can decide if hiring an accountant would pay for itself in savings?” Brett asked.
Visibly relaxing, Gerald nodded. “That’s no problem at all,” he said. “But I’m afraid it will have to wait a couple weeks. I’m leaving Tuesday on vacation.”
Brett’s face fell. “I’ll push the rest of this month’s lessons off until next month, then,” he said practically. “So where are you going?”
“St. Louis to visit my grandparents,” Gerald said, picking up his coffee mug again. “The trip is long enough they can’t make it, so I try to go a couple times a year.”
“Wow, you’re a long way from home,” Brett commented. “What brought you up here?”
“Actually, this is home. My parents are here, and I’ve lived here all my life,” Gerald said.
“And we’ve never met until now? Greenwich isn’t that big!”
Gerald shrugged. “Who knows? I did go to New York for college.”
Brett laughed. “And it’s not like I’ve lived here much in the past ten years. I went and sowed my wild oats, as my grandmother used to say, until my parents were ready to retire. I suppose it isn’t all that unbelievable.” He pushed back his plate. “Ready to get to work?”
“Yeah,” Gerald said with a nod. “I’ll grab some clothes and meet you in the barn.” He stood, gathered his dishes, and Brett’s, and took them to the sink.
Brett nodded and headed out to get to work. When Gerald joined him a few minutes later, he’d already started loading the hay wagon so they could feed the horses.
Pausing several feet away, Gerald watched as Brett hefted the large bales, the smooth movements telling of long habit. He wondered how heavy those bales were. Hay was light, right? He felt somewhat apprehensive, studying the blocks. He’d broken one up before to help feed the horses, but he’d not actually picked one up.
And watching the muscles bunch under the often-washed, close-fitting fabric of Brett’s shirt, Gerald would lay a good bet that those bales were heavier than they appeared. He fidgeted a little and sighed, pushing away thoughts about Brett’s body creeping back from the night before. “How can I help?” he asked, needing to get his hands busy.
“Grab some bales and let’s fill this wagon. The fuller it is, the fewer trips we have to make.” As he spoke, he tossed another bale onto the cart with the ease of much practice.
“Ohhhhkay,” Gerald drew out, eyeing a bale as he drew on his gloves. He squatted and slid his hands under the twine, using his legs to lift the bale. “Geez, Brett, this thing weighs a ton!” But he wrestled it over to the wagon.
Brett chuckled. “Yeah, I guess they do, but I’ve been tossing them around since I was old enough to lift them. I don’t even think about it anymore.”
“Reminds me of moving full Bankers Boxes,” Gerald said as he got the bale up into the wagon. His eyes strayed to the side, watching Brett easily lift another bale and toss it on top of the one Gerald had just settled.
Brett laughed again. “C’mon,” he urged, lifting the wagon and starting down the aisle. “Let’s get the horses fed.”
“That I know I can do,” Gerald said as he followed along.
GERALD steered the car through traffic, annoyed that it was taking so long. He’d already been held up at the office longer than usual since it was his first day back after a two-week vacation; he was late for his self-appointed arrival time at the farm. He was in such a hurry that he’d passed on going home to change clothes since he still had his suitcase in his trunk. He’d just get changed at the farm. He’d long since started leaving his boots and gloves in one of the tack closets.
Despite his slight annoyance, he was cheered by the fact that he’d soon be back at Sutcliffe Cove. After only a few days away, he’d become aware that he was missing something. It was a few days later when walking with his grandmother at a lovely park that he realized it was the farm; he’d been spending so much time there that it had become a part of his life. Unexpected, for sure, but welcome once he accepted it as how it would be from now on.
Gerald had to snap out of his thoughts and hit the horn when another car cut him off, and he made himself focus on his driving.
Brett cursed under his breath when he caught himself staring down the lane to the highway for the tenth time already in the past twenty minutes. It was far too early for Gerald to show up, even if he left work early and came directly here. It was just that he’d become such a fixture at the farm. Brett hadn’t realized how much until his friend left for two weeks of vacation. It was a planned, announced absence. He knew exactly when Gerald would be leaving and when he planned to return. He knew where he was going and who he was going to see. They’d talked about it before he left. It hadn’t made his absence any easier.
“Stop acting like a girl with her first crush, Sutcliffe,” he scolded himself softly as he made himself go back to mucking stalls. Misfit stuck her head out, looking at him expectantly. “I don’t know when he’ll get here, girl,” he told her. “He’s supposed to be here tonight, but that could be any time between now and midnight.”
The worst part was that Robbie got a promotion at work and would be moving from the local office to the corporate headquarters in Atlanta. So on top of missing his friend, he was horny, a particularly bad combination where his temper was concerned. Never mind that he probably would have ended things before long after Robbie’s display at the bonfire, but the man had still been good for releasing tension, and that hadn’t happened.
It was almost an hour later by the time Gerald pulled into the parking lot and got out of the car, paying no mind to his dress shoes in the gravel as he straightened his jacket out of habit.
Brett refused to go out when he heard the car enter the lot. Misfit’s excited whinny was the first sign that Gerald was finally here. Grinning from ear to ear, Brett walked out into the parking lot to greet his friend, stopping dead in his tracks when he got a good look at the other man.
Damn! Gerald was an attractive guy in jeans and a T-shirt, covered in dirt and sweat (or in a lot less), but in a suit, he was breathtaking. Letting out a low whistle, Brett crossed to the other man’s side. “I’d hug you,” he said, taking refuge in teasing and hoping his sudden erection wasn’t too terribly obvious beneath his loose work jeans, “but I’m afraid I’ll ruin your pretty suit.”
Gerald turned his chin and laughed as a grin broke free. “Screw the suit, man,” he said, slinging an arm around Brett’s shoulders.
“God, I’ve missed you.” Brett laughed, hugging Gerald tightly. “And I’m pretty sure I’m not the only one. Misfit’s been even more crotchety than usual.”
Closing his arms around the other man, Gerald squeezed in return. He was happy to see Brett, and it hit him then that the man had become probably the closest friend he had. “I missed you too, and that prima donna,” he said before stepping back. He swallowed as he took in the sight of the man, and his gut clenched a little. Whoa.
“Go say hello to her before she kicks down the stall door,” Brett insisted. “You can tell me all about your trip later. I’ll even make you dinner, although I’m sure it won’t compare to your grandmother’s home cooking.”
Gerald raised an eyebrow. “You don’t have to do that,” he objected mildly as he popped the trunk of his car and started digging into his suitcase. “But I wouldn’t mind the time to visit. I realized about halfway through the trip
that something was missing. Made me actually realize how much I’m out here.”
“Well, the only other option is take-out Chinese,” Brett replied, a smile tugging at his lips at the thought that Gerald had actually missed him. He scolded himself, reminding his overeager libido that Gerald was probably referring to Misfit. “The barn was empty without you hanging around all the time.”
Gathering his clothes to his chest, Gerald shut the trunk and paused to look at Brett speculatively. “I wasn’t talking just about Misfit,” he said clearly. He was certainly glad Brett had noticed he was gone; he wanted Brett to know that Gerald had missed him, not just the horses.
Brett’s grin widened. “In that case, I’ll definitely cook you dinner.” And if dinner and drinks led to something more, well, he certainly wouldn’t complain.
Gerald’s smile was wide. “You’re on.” He turned and made his way to the house, bouncing a little on the steps as he went in to change clothes.
Whistling happily, Brett went back to work, already anticipating dinner. He really did want to hear about Gerald’s trip. He also wanted a chance at more. He’d held off before when he thought Gerald was straight and because of Robbie, but both of those reasons no longer applied.
Walking past Shah’s stall, Brett grinned at his stallion. “I think one of us might be getting lucky tonight, old man, and it isn’t going to be you.”
Shah shook his mane at Brett as if to say he had no idea what the man was talking about. If he wanted to get lucky, he’d just jump the fence and join the mares.
WASHING his hands in the barn sink after feeding the horses, Gerald tipped his head from side to side as he stretched out a bit. He’d had a good visit with Misfit but just a short ride; he didn’t want to overdo it on his first day back. And now he was looking forward to dinner… and Brett.
“Want to grab a shower while I get dinner going?” Brett asked Gerald, flipping off the lights in the stable. “It’ll take me a good half an hour to have it done.”
“Sure. I’ve got more clothes in the car,” Gerald said, shutting off the water and peering through the dimly lit building as he walked out of the closet in a pair of clogs he used to get around after shedding his boots.
Brett tossed his own boots in the mudroom off his front porch and padded barefoot up the stairs to change clothes and wash up enough to cook. Thinking of his hopes for the rest of the evening, he decided he’d better take a quick shower, just in case. As the hot water ran down his shoulders, he refused to imagine Gerald in the downstairs bathroom in the same state.
Finished with his shower, Brett dressed quickly and went back downstairs to start cooking. He could hear the water still running in the guest bathroom and had to stop himself from imagining Gerald wet and naked. Robbie had been fun—not to mention convenient—but they hadn’t had enough in common to make a real go of a relationship. Gerald, on the other hand…. Brett rolled his eyes at himself and started putting together the squash casserole. He’d throw a couple of steaks on the grill and that would be dinner. With a grin, he popped the top on a beer, wondering if Gerald would prefer wine instead. He’d have said no until he saw Gerald in a classy suit today. Now he wasn’t so sure.
Gerald discovered once his eyes closed as he ducked his head under the water that he could see Brett inside his eyelids and the rugged sight made his belly cramp. His hand strayed to his cock, and he sighed after a slight rub. No reason to pursue it, he told himself, although his inner voice was weak. Brett was taken, he reminded himself. Just because he’d been gone two weeks didn’t make things change. With a soft groan he let go of his half-hard cock and grabbed the soap.
After toweling off, Gerald finger-combed his hair and separated his clothes. He frowned a little when he didn’t find boxer briefs and then shrugged. Wouldn’t hurt him to go without for an evening. He pulled on a pair of soft khakis and ducked his head to slip the casual button-down shirt over his head, and he was ready. Barefoot, he walked out and around the corner to enter the kitchen.
“Feel like tossing a salad?” Brett asked when Gerald joined him. “And there’s beer in the fridge, or I can open a bottle of wine if you’d rather.”
“I prefer beer, but wine is okay if you want some,” Gerald said as he changed directions to go to the fridge just to Brett’s side. He hummed slightly in question as he bent over to look through the shelves for cans or bottles.
Brett held up his own beer, now almost empty. “No, beer’s definitely my preference too.” Deciding he needed another one right now, he crowded Gerald from behind, reaching around him to snag another longneck bottle. “At least where drinks are concerned.”
Before Gerald knew it, his hand was gripping the fridge door hard as the press of Brett’s body sent a bolt of arousal through him. He silently scolded himself and cleared his throat a little nervously before getting a bottle for himself and standing straight… which put him right up against Brett’s solid body behind him.
Brett felt Gerald’s surprise, but he made no move to push away, giving Brett the courage to lean even closer. “Actually,” he mused, his breath fluttering against Gerald’s ear, “I like my men a lot like my beer. Long, dark, and smooth.”
Gerald shivered, and he sighed soundlessly as his body responded right away to the stimulus. No way was he moving, not yet. “You’ve got good taste then,” he rasped, hoping Brett didn’t think he was being vain.
“Very good taste,” Brett agreed, his lips brushing the bristly skin of Gerald’s cheek. He could still smell the aftershave the other man had used that morning, but the five o’clock shadow was definitely there in full force. He wasn’t about to complain since his own scruff was far more than just a shadow.
Unconsciously purring, Gerald licked his bottom lip. His hand clutched at the cool glass bottle in his hand. “Maybe I should check just to make sure,” he said boldly, his voice still deep and rough. By the tone of Brett’s voice, Gerald was pretty sure Brett wasn’t teasing.
“Maybe you should,” Brett agreed huskily, bumping his hips against Gerald’s as he set his beer on the counter, wanting both hands free. “Turn around.”
Gerald shifted, the cool air of the open refrigerator sweeping down his bare feet as he turned to face Brett. His own pulse was racing, and he could feel the flush in his cheeks, but Gerald already knew he wanted this. Wanted something. Just to have a hint of what it would be like with Brett, if nothing else.
Brett slid his lips against Gerald’s, wishing he hadn’t drunk the beer earlier so he wouldn’t have any taste on his tongue but Gerald’s. He took his time, lingering over the slightly parted lips, licking at their curves, feeling Gerald’s gasping breath wash over his moist lips. Gerald’s pink tongue snaked out, more temptation than Brett could stand. He crushed their mouths together, invading forcefully, his arms going around Gerald’s waist to pull their bodies together tightly. Inwardly, he crowed at the matching erection he could feel in Gerald’s pants.
Gerald moaned into Brett’s mouth, his eyes falling shut as he moved one hand to close over the back of Brett’s neck while the other joined the effort to pull their bodies closer together. It was that hard bump of their bodies that dragged the wanting sound from him, and he swiveled from side to side, rubbing their groins together. Brett was just as hard as he was, and it made his own cock twitch.
“Gerry,” Brett groaned against the other man’s mouth. He tore his lips free, his forehead resting against Gerald’s. He snatched the beer out of the other man’s hand and put it on the counter next to his. He didn’t want anything interfering with whatever happened next. “Why’d we wait so long to do this?” He didn’t give Gerald a chance to reply, capturing his lips again in a continuation of the torrid kiss.
Pushing his tongue into Brett’s mouth, Gerald explored and stroked as the heat tumbled through him, ratcheting up the tension and anticipation in the air around them. His hand left Brett’s neck, combing down the other man’s back and pulling the T-shirt free of his waistband so he could tou
ch bare, warm skin at the base of his spine.
Brett took a couple of steps back, drawing Gerald with him so he could turn him out of the refrigerator and against the countertop, letting the fridge door swing shut. He sucked on the invading tongue eagerly as his hands mimicked Gerald’s, one sliding beneath the soft cotton shirt, the other moving downward to grab a handful of strongly muscled ass.
Huffing out a surprised breath, Gerald went with the motion and didn’t let go, diving back into the hot, wet kiss with enthusiasm. He arched under Brett’s hands, moaning as he sucked on Brett’s lower lip.
The timer buzzed, interrupting them. Brett moaned into the kiss, not wanting to break the contact. “Casserole,” he murmured against Gerald’s lips. “Oven.”
Reluctantly pulling back from Brett’s mouth, Gerald took two shaky steps to the side and wiped his lips with the back of his hand. He was a little shell-shocked, to be honest. He knew he’d wanted Brett, desired him and his body. But Gerald hadn’t expected this strong of a response to him.
Brett’s hands shook a little as he pulled the dish out of the oven, pleased to see it brown and bubbling. He set it on the stove and turned back to see the odd expression on Gerald’s face. “You all right?” he asked. “Did I come on too strong?”
Gerald shook his head and laughed softly, perhaps a little nervously. “Just didn’t expect it,” he said with a small shrug.
“And now that you do expect it?” Brett pressed.
A whirl of thoughts went speeding through Gerald’s analytical brain, weighing pros and cons, thinking of possible problems, reviewing how he came to this. Then he frowned. “What about Robbie? That guy you’ve been dating all these months?”
“He got a promotion while you were gone,” Brett said. “He’ll be moving to Atlanta in another week or so. We had a good time together, but it wasn’t enough to keep him from taking the job or to convince me to move. He isn’t in the picture anymore.”
