by Mia Kerick
“He needs to go outside,” I grumble.
“I’ll let him out. You strip naked and meet me in bed.”
“Hurry.” I slip into the bathroom, fling off my shorts and sneakers, and freshen up. Then I climb into bed. Fifteen minutes later, I’m still alone between the sheets, no longer breathing heavily.
“Sorry, I’m late.” Finally. Bodie enters my bedroom. He closes the door and leans against it, exhaling deeply. “Didn’t plan on taking so long. I ran into a problem outside.”
“Another racoon? Or was it a skunk this time? He didn’t get near Hugo, did he?”
“No. It wasn’t that.” Bodie isn’t the passionate guy of a few minutes ago. His lips are drawn into a thin line, and he’s staring past my head to the window.
I pat the spot beside me on the bed. “Sit down.”
Bodie shakes his head, then turns and opens the bedroom door. “Hey, Hugo. Come here, boy.” We usually don’t let Hugo sleep in the room with us. He likes to go outside before the sun rises and noisily lets it be known. After Hugo waddles into the bedroom and makes himself comfortable in the corner, Bodie steps out of the room again.
“Where are you going?” I call after him.
“Just checking to make sure the house is locked.”
It takes another ten minutes before Bodie is naked in bed beside me.
“What’s going on with you tonight?” I ask before reaching for his hand. Touching him is not so much of an issue anymore, but I always wait until he’s relaxed and ready.
“We had a visitor, when I took Hugo outside.” He grasps my hand.
“A visitor? It’s two thirty in the morning.”
Bodie pulls me into his arms. The frenzy of heat from earlier has fizzled to some extent, but what we share isn’t all about heat anymore. It’s deeper now. There’s a closeness I’ve never experienced with anybody else. “Oliver, Jack was outside. Parked on the street.”
“Jack was here?”
“Yeah. He didn’t get out of the car. He just stared at me.”
This news is worrisome. “He’s been acting really strange lately. Aggressive, even. Like he’s jealous of the bond we share.” I move to sit up, but Bodie tucks me into the warm pocket beside him.
“Don’t want that asshole to ruin our night.”
“But do you think he’s dangerous? Should we call the police to report a trespasser?”
Bodie leans over and presses me flat on the bed. “Nah. He’s just pissed that he can’t have you, and I can. It’ll be better after this weekend. When I’m not working at Surf’s Up anymore.”
“And he doesn’t have to witness our happiness.”
“You said it.” He leans over and kisses me. “Got some plans for you tonight.”
“Just for me? Aren’t you gonna join in the fun?”
He shakes his head. “Tonight’s not just about fun.” The next kiss I receive is deep and relentless. “It’s much more.”
I fight to catch my breath before his wide palms find my shoulders, then my chest, landing flat on my belly. But he stops short.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“That’s the thing, Ollie.”
“What do you mean?”
“What I’m saying is, this is the first time in my life that nothing is wrong. Nothing at all. I just got hired at The Island Toolbox, and I really want to work there. I have a home and a dog and someone to…” Again, he shakes his head. “I got someone to love.”
I’m not sure I heard him right. “Someone to love?” I ask, hoping he’ll set me straight. Quickly, before I melt into the floor.
“That’s what I said.” He cups my face firmly in his hands as he gazes into my eyes. “I love you. And not just a little.”
“Oh God, Bodie.” I have trouble forcing out even these few words. And I know he must be waiting for my thoughts—my feelings—about what he said. “I… uh…”
His eyes are wide and golden. So beautiful in their hope. But instead of pressing me to declare my love, he adds, “And I trust you, Ollie. To me, trust is as big as love.”
“It is to me too.”
“I want to make love to you, face-to-face.” He doesn’t give me a chance to reply. He seals his lips to mine as he explores my chest with fingertips as light as feathers. “God, your skin…”
He focuses his attention on my nipples, teasing one and then the other until I can take it no longer. “Bodie, I want you inside me.”
“Soon, baby. Real soon.” His lips move down my belly leaving a wet, tingling path. “But first…” He takes my dick between his lips and sinks down until his jaws are wide and his mouth is full. When Bodie drags his lips back up my length, he sucks hard enough that I have to fight for breath. “I’m gonna do this for a while, but I don’t want you to come.”
I let my legs fall apart as Bodie showers attention on my cock. So enthusiastically that it feels way too good way too soon. “I won’t be able to hang on much longer if you keep doing that. It’s so fucking amazing.”
“Don’t want you to come ’til I’m in you.” He reaches for the lube on the table. “Gonna get you ready.”
Slippery fingers open me carefully and then press deep inside. I squeeze my hands into fists in a continued struggle not to come. His lips find my mouth, and he pairs the thrusting of his fingers with that of his tongue. When I allow a rather unbridled moan, he scrambles between my legs, lifts my ass, and pushes his dick inside me. He’s a bit clumsy in his eagerness. More functional than artful. But it’s effective. And I moan again.
At that moment, I look up at the man I’m now sharing my life with. What I see is a stunning vision of strength and tenderness. On his knees, his thighs spread, Bodie bears the weight of my legs in his bulging forearms. Veins strain in his neck as he holds back the fierceness of his need; his wide shoulders are sweat slickened and taut. He’s fighting the urge to close his eyes, as the pleasure is so intense; but he steadfastly refuses to remove his gaze from mine, wanting to be present as he makes love to me.
He moves inside my body with urgency. Grunting as he thrusts, he sets a fast-paced rhythm. The primal sounds excite me. And just when I’m about to take myself in hand, he bends my leg and pushes it to my chest, and then wraps his fist around my cock.
“You are…the answer…to my prayers.” He smiles in the way I adore, with his beautiful full lips lifted on just one side. As he begins to come, his efforts on my dick increase. I can’t help but join him. It is all encompassing, and honestly, sort of soul-crushing.
When our shuddering stops, he collapses on my chest.
Still panting, I hold him against me, dragging my fingernails delicately up and down his back, drawing forth a pronounced shudder and thousands of goosebumps. And then I smooth his damp hair. “I fell in love with you a long time ago, Bodie.”
He sighs. “Then we got all we need.”
Chapter 20
“We only have a few nights left to work together,” I murmur into his ear when Bodie stops the bike. My gut feels hollow at the very thought. But the words need to be said to make it real.
“Can’t believe the summer’s almost over.”
I give him a squeeze around the waist. “But I’ll still have you to come home to.”
“Always.”
His reply gives me chills. I rub the goosebumps from my arms.
We climb off the bike and start across the parking lot.
“Jack called this morning, Ollie. Said he wants to talk after work.”
“What about?” I ask, unsure whether to be worried or just plain skeptical.
“Me still working the door on weekends.”
I shake my head. “We don’t need money bad enough for you to work two jobs.”
He stops and grabs my hand to still me. “You said your tips go way down in the fall. And you still have your mortgage and school loans to pay and you want that car…and you’ve been talking about getting a new living room set.”
“None of those things are as important
to me as you are. And you have to agree, Jack has serious issues with us working together.”
Bodie nods. “That’s a fact.”
“And so, you need to move on to your job at Island Toolbox. Period. We’ll make ends meet together.” Cars are already piling into the Surf’s Up parking lot. I just hope tonight isn’t too memorable. “The nights leading up to Labor Day Weekend are as crazy as Memorial Day weekend. Remember that?”
He smiles. “Never will forget. It was when I met you.”
I separate the small gap between us by wrapping my arms around his neck. “Falling in love with that little VW convertible led me to falling in love with you.”
“When you say shit like that, I want to skip work and go back to bed.”
“I like the way you think, but duty calls.” I brush his chin with my thumb so that he lowers his face to mine. Pleased there are virtually no more issues with me touching him, I place a small, soft kiss on his lips. And then I look into his eyes. Hopeful, open, warm, golden.
“Love you, Ollie.”
“The feeling is more than mutual.”
We head for the door.
“I decided if I didn’t come find you myself, I may never see you again.”
I glance up from the counter. “Dad! What are you doing here?” I swallow deeply as the guilt surges. Bodie has taken up so much of my attention this summer I haven’t made an effort with my father.
He reaches across the counter to shake my hand. “So anyway, Oliver, I stopped by to see you. It’s been, what? Almost three months since we caught up?”
“Give or take.” Shit, I’m an asshole. “Uh, sorry about that.”
“It’s near closing time. Thought I’d take you out for a late-night burger at The Landing and we can catch up.”
“That should work. The guy who drives me home after work has a meeting with Jack when we close.”
“He drives you home every night? That sounds serious.”
“It is serious, Dad.” What’s notable is I don’t even sweat when I say this.
“I want to hear all about him. Grab me a beer and I’ll wait for you at the bar.”
Dad chats with Mika and Nico as we close up. He’s a friendly sort—much more so than me—and they never stop joking and laughing. Sam also comes and goes, sharing stories of LeeLee’s amazingness. The time passes quickly. Jack never comes over to say hello to my father, although they know each other well. Instead he hides in his office. He’s been oddly detached tonight.
“You’re the spitting image of your dad.” Bodie steps up to the bar, a smile in his voice.
“We look that much alike?”
He nods. “It’s like seeing the future you.”
“Well, come on over and meet him.” I step out from behind the bar, take Bodie’s hand, and lead him to where my father sits, studying Sam’s pictures of LeeLee on his phone. “Hey, Dad. I want you to meet somebody.”
“Your daughter is adorable, Sam. I never had a little girl—just my Oliver.” Dad slides Sam’s phone back across the bar and glances at Bodie.
“This is Nick Bowden, but everybody calls him Bodie. And this is my father, Rich Tunstead.”
Bodie extends his hand. “Glad to meet you, Mr. Tunstead.”
Dad stands and they shake. “You the one who’s been driving my son home from work?”
“I take him to work, as well,” Bodie quips.
“Then all I can do is thank you, Bodie.” Dad beams at him. “Two miles is way too far for Oliver to walk in the middle of the night.”
Bodie smiles. “It’s honestly my pleasure, sir.”
“Bodie’s my housemate too,” I add. “His rent is helping me to fund the down payment for my new, used car.”
“Oh, yes. The loan—another thing we need to discuss tonight,” Dad says.
“Tonight?” Bodie asks.
“Yeah. Since you’re meeting up with Jack, Dad said he’d buy me a burger and drive me home.”
The sparkle in Bodie’s eyes dulls. “Oh, sure. Of course.”
“Or would you rather I stick around here while you and Jack talk?”
Bodie blushes brightly enough for me to see it in the dim bar lighting. “No…shit, no. Go with your dad. I’ll see you back at the cottage.”
I lean in very close to his ear and utter in a breathy tone, “I’ll meet you in my bed. And I’ll expect you to be naked.”
“Shit, Oliver—not in front of your father.” He straightens and grasps my shoulders. “Later, man.”
Later, man? Not my usual Bodie, but then, we’re not usually standing in front of my dad.
He turns to my father. “I hope we can see each other again soon, Mr. Tunstead.”
“You can call me Rich, son.”
“Cool.” Bodie walks across the empty bar to Jack’s office. He turns back to glance at me before opening the door, but it’s too dark to read his eyes.
“Well, Dad, everything’s finished here. We can take off too.”
“Hope you’re hungry.”
I get home at close to four in the morning. Chatting with Dad was great, and to some extent necessary, but I’m drained. Too much human interaction for a single day, between work and late-night conversation.
After washing up quickly, I rush into my bedroom, expecting to find Bodie asleep in my bed. But he’s not here. The bed hasn’t been touched. I saw his bike in the driveway when Dad dropped me off, so he’s definitely home. He probably figured I’d be exhausted when I got back and decided to sleep in his own bed. I’m embarrassingly disappointed.
I’m tempted to go into his room and slip in bed beside him, but I tried that before and he jumped about a mile. Bodie startles easily, thanks to that asshole Brian Wilkins who snuck into his bedroom at night when he was a boy.
“Guess I’ll sleep alone tonight,” I murmur and climb into bed.
It’s not easy to fall asleep; it feels wrong without Bodie’s arms around me.
Chapter 21
When I wake up, I glance at my phone on the bedside table. Close to noon. I nearly slept the day away. I crawl from my bed and hit the bathroom briefly. The house is silent when I emerge.
“Bodie?” I call. Hugo comes running. “Hey, boy. Where’s your other dad?” He nuzzles my palms and then returns to the kitchen to curl up on the mat. “You don’t need to go outside?”
Apparently not, based on his quick descent into dreamland. Bodie must have taken him out already. Bodie…who isn’t here.
No coffee? Now this is truly strange. Bodie always brews a pot as soon as he wakes up. And he sets out a mug and a spoon for me. But not today. He must have gotten up very early.
I push open the screen door and step over Hugo onto the deck. “Bodie?”
I glance at the driveway; his bike isn’t parked there. He must have gone to the gym.
When three o’clock rolls around, I start to get worried. We usually leave for work by 3:30 p.m. and there’s no sign of Bodie. My belly clenches, so I toss the remainder of my turkey sandwich into the trash can, wrap the one I made for Bodie in foil, and stick it in the refrigerator. I decide to take a quick outdoor shower instead of a bath.
I go through the motions of getting ready for work, but I’m starting to shake with raw nerves. This unexplained absence is completely unlike Bodie. I grab my phone before l let Hugo outside and stare at it as I wait on the deck steps.
Should I call the police? The local hospital? If he was in an accident, they’d likely know. Maybe I should just call Bodie’s cell phone. For some unknown reason, I don’t place a call.
And for the same reason, I return to the house and walk down the hall. I place one hand on my throbbing gut and the other on the doorknob to Bodie’s room. Life is strange…and sometimes terrible. I already know what I’m going to find when I open the door.
The bed is neatly made—not unusual. I go to the bureau and pull open the top drawer. It’s empty, except for a folded sheet of paper, which I rush to unfold. Five hundred-dollar bills float to the f
loor. Bodie has already paid his rent, very proudly upfront; I never had to ask for it. This extra cash…is a payoff.
Before I read the note, I yank open every drawer with such force they fall to the floor. No gray sweatpants or faded Levi’s or black T-shirts or sexy boxer briefs. Confirming what I already know: he’s gone.
Bodie did what he was born to do.
He left Gillamour Island.
And he left me.
Still clutching the note, I rush into the bathroom and sink to my knees before the toilet. Every last remnant of that damned turkey sandwich makes its nasty return. I still can’t bring myself to read the few words printed on the piece of paper.
After rinsing my mouth, I head to the living room where I left my phone on the couch. Gingerly, I sit. Like I might shatter into a million pieces if I make a single wrong move. And I call Jack.
“Hello?”
“Jack, I’m sick. I’m not coming in tonight.”
“Of course, Oliver. I’ll cover the bar.” His tone is calm, as if he’d expected this.
I end the call. Jack gets no thank you. No goodbye.
I curl up on the couch, my phone in one hand and the fucking I-was-born-for-leaving note crumpled in the other. Hugo trots into the living room and drops to the floor by my feet. Looks like it’s back to me and Hugo and solitary life.
How much harm can one guy do to my tightly guarded life in three short months?
When I made the arrangements for Bodie—the man in a Stetson—to move into my cottage, I asked myself this question. The memory brings up a painful rasp of laughter.
What harm could he do? So much harm. Too much harm.
I close my eyes and pray for oblivion.
I wake up at around midnight, still clutching my phone and the note. I smooth out the sheet of paper on my thigh, and by the light of my cell phone, read.
Summer was more than I ever hoped for. The island. The cottage. Hugo. You.
