by Brandon Witt
Their kiss was tender, almost nervous. Almost like the first one so many months before, below where they stood at the moment.
Travis pulled away, but kept hold of Wesley’s hand, then led him toward the blanket. “Here, it’s almost time.”
“Time for what?”
Travis smiled. “You’ll see.”
Instead of pausing at the blanket, Travis walked over it, still guiding Wesley. “Sit there.” He motioned toward the square door that opened out onto the field.
Wesley, afraid of heights, hesitated. He was not going to ruin this. Not when Travis had gone to this much effort. He got as close as he dared and sat down, crossing his legs underneath him.
“Not like that. Scoot up to the edge. Let your feet hang over the side.”
Wesley leaned forward a bit, peering over the side. “That’s got to be at least forty feet down.”
Travis laughed. “Not hardly. Go on. Scoot up. I won’t let you fall.”
Hesitantly, Wesley did as he was told, scooting with his hands and butt until his legs dangled over the side of the barn, like he was sitting in a chair. Travis sat down behind him, his legs securely around Wesley.
His fear forgotten, mostly, Wesley leaned back and rested against Travis. “God, you feel good.”
“So do you.” Travis encircled Wesley in his arms while caressing Wesley’s chest.
Wesley let out a sigh and let his head fall back to rest against Travis’s collarbone, his fear of heights fully forgotten in the sensation of Travis’s touch. He let his hands slide up and down Travis’s thighs, the denim soft under his palms. “So what’s it almost time for? Please tell me sex.”
Travis’s voice was soft and gravely in his ear. “Not yet, but soon. And out here in the barn, we can be as loud as we want.” His finger slipped inside Wesley’s shirt, straining the fabric as he reached for his nipple.
“I thought you told Dunkyn not to wake up the chickens.”
Travis chuckled. “Sadly, I think the chickens are not going to have a restful sleep this evening.” He pushed his finger in farther, then withdrew. Lifting his other hand from where it had started to lower past Wesley’s waist, Travis started unbuttoning Wesley’s shirt. “Let’s get this off.”
Within moments, the warm night breeze brushed against Wesley’s naked torso. He leaned back against Travis and paused. “Take yours off too.”
From behind, Travis began tugging at his own shirt, the motion forcing Wesley forward.
Wesley gripped the edge of the doorway. “Whoa! There’s not gonna be any sex if I’m nothing but a squished pile beside the barn!”
Travis chuckled again. “You’re cute when you’re dramatic.”
Then the next second, Wesley’s bare back was against the thick hair covering Travis’s chest and belly.
Travis instantly began to roam his hands over Wesley’s body. His erection pushed against Wesley’s back. “I should have planned this better. Shoulda had us take off our pants before we sat down.”
Wesley readjusted himself so the fold of his jeans was less constricting. “I bet we can remedy that.”
“Actually, no, we can’t. It’s time.” Travis pointed out into the night.
Following his gesture, Wesley looked out to the field, at first not seeing what Travis meant. Then he did.
Travis’s whisper was a mixture of lust and wonder. “I heard there was going to be a meteor shower tonight. Thought this would be a good way to watch it.” As he spoke, he slid his hand down Wesley’s stomach, fiddled with Wesley’s jeans, easily unfastened the button, then moved his hand underneath the material.
Wesley didn’t even attempt a reply, just groaned and pushed back into Travis.
They sat there, bodies silhouetted in the hayloft’s door, while glittering trails streaked through the stars.
Chapter Thirty-Three
THE TWINS helped blow out the thirty-eight candles covering the bunny cake. Wendy clapped, then kissed each of them on the cheek in turn. “Thank you, sweets! Two more years and I won’t even attempt to blow out the candles anymore.”
“I want the nose! I want the nose!” Avery stretched her fingers toward the button of pink frosting.
Wendy grabbed her little wrist. “Rudeness, lady.”
Avery glanced up at her aunt, a pleading look on her face. Blue eyes wide.
Wendy laughed. “Oh, girly, you know that look doesn’t work on me. I’m not the wimp your father is.”
Travis ruffled his daughter’s hair, earning himself a look of annoyance. He probably shouldn’t, but he loved that expression. It was just as much Shannon as when the child threw back her head in laughter. He bent and stage-whispered, “Just tell Wendy how young and beautiful she looks, Avery. She’ll give you the whole cake.”
Jason piped up from his place across the table. “Or just place an order for one of the most expensive stuffed animals this side of the Mississippi. That will work too.”
“You two hush up. It’s my birthday. You gotta be nice.” She wasn’t able to maintain her forced sternness. “And, you, Jason Baker, should be ordering on a weekly basis with as many little bast—” Wendy’s eyes widened as she glanced at the twins. “—with as many little Bakers as there probably are out in the world.”
Travis laughed at the genuine panic that passed across his best friend’s face as he glared at Wendy.
“Don’t you dare curse me with that.” Jason shuddered and began mumbling to himself.
Wendy leered at him, then turned toward Caleb. “Will you help me cut the cake, and I’ll go get the plates.”
As Caleb nodded, his girlfriend shot up from her seat. “Oh, you sit, Ms. Bennett. It’s your birthday. I’ll go get the plates.”
Wesley slid out of his chair to stand up. “I’ll help you, Ashley. And I’ll get the ice cream.”
Travis watched as the two of them walked toward the kitchen. He never got tired of looking at Wesley; he was so handsome and… bright. Yeah, that was the word. Wesley was bright. He had that quality that seemed to make life radiate out from him. Just like Shannon.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so content, so perfectly at home, surrounded by his family.
Actually, yes he could, and it had been years ago.
He’d never thought he’d feel it again.
Turning back to the table, he caught Caleb staring after Ashley and Wesley, looking as in awe as Travis felt.
Caleb’s cheeks flushed, and he gave a grin and a shrug toward his father. Then he looked down at Mason, who was sitting at his brother’s feet, petting Dolan. “Since Avery wants the nose, does that mean you want the tail?”
Mason peered up at Caleb, hero worship plastered over his face. He nodded.
Travis felt his eyes burn. “Excuse me, I’ll be right back.” He pushed his chair back and left the table. He walked out of the kitchen, Dunkyn trailing at his feet, to his bedroom.
He just needed a minute.
All these feelings were still too new. After so many years of feeling nothing but sadness, or nothing at all, it was hard to find his equilibrium.
He didn’t turn on the light, but walked over to the bed and sat on the edge, picking up the framed photo off the nightstand.
Shannon, young and laughing out in the sunshine. Beautiful.
Travis didn’t even remember where it had been taken. And while he loved all of the pictures of her with their children, with him, this one had always been his favorite. It captured her. When he looked at it, she was right there beside him.
Not that she ever really left.
Glen spoke a few words behind him before Travis realized the whisper was from an actual person.
“She’d be so happy tonight. She’d love seeing all of the joy in that room.”
Travis cleared his throat as he turned toward his father-in-law. “Yeah. She would.”
Glen didn’t join Travis on the edge of the bed, but he placed his hand over Travis’s shoulder. “Did you hear from your folks?”<
br />
Travis just shook his head.
He’d called his parents a week or so ago. He’d left a message on their machine, offering to get them a bus ticket to come to Wendy’s birthday. Just like they did every year.
They hadn’t called back.
He knew their mom had called Wendy earlier in the day, wishing her a happy birthday. From overhearing Wendy’s side of the conversation, it had sounded strained and forced. And short.
She hadn’t said anything, and neither had he, although it had taken a couple of hours before Wendy had seemed like herself again.
“They’ll come around.”
Travis looked over at Glen and shrugged. “Maybe. Yeah, maybe they will.”
They wouldn’t. He could feel it.
It hurt and it made him sad. But not really. He’d already lost so much and had gained so much in return. Travis actually felt worse for his mother than anything. She’d come around, if it were just her. But it wasn’t. He knew she was hurting.
He pushed the thought aside, returning his focus to Glen. “It means so much that you and Patsy are here. Really.”
The old man smiled. “You’re our son—” He gave a nervous laugh. “—and you’ve got our grandbabies. I reckon there’s not much you could do that those three wouldn’t make up for.”
Travis chuckled. “Well, good to know I have a few free passes.”
They remained there for a few more moments, staring at the photo.
Glen broke the silence once more. “Let’s get back out there. There’s more of Shannon out there than in here.”
“Yeah, I know. You’re right. Give me another minute, okay?”
Another pat on his shoulder.
“Sure, son.”
ANOTHER RUSH of emotion flooded through Travis—so much that he had to steady himself on the doorframe—as he exited the hallway into Shannon’s open-concept kitchen and living room. Dunkyn paused beside him.
His house was so full of people. So full of noise and laughter and bright colors, all highlighted by the stretch of the field and barn outside the wall of windows. The cattle were close, visible on the other side of the fence as they grazed in the glow of the late-evening sun.
Travis let the visual sink in.
Patsy and Glen were seated close to Caleb and were chatting with Ashley, going out of their way to make her feel welcome, of course.
Wendy was shooing Dolan away with her feet as he begged for her cake, all the while laughing at something Jason had said.
Avery had poor Nutmeg dangling from the crook of one arm while she shoveled in birthday cake with her other hand.
Wesley was bent over Mason, helping him wipe up punch that he’d spilled over his shirt.
Maybe feeling Travis’s attention, Wesley looked up. He smiled, then lifted a questioning brow.
Travis nodded in reassurance.
With a whisper at his back and his dog at his feet, Travis reentered the room and joined his family.
“YOU KNOW, I’ve been thinking….”
Travis glanced over at his sister from where he was drying the dishes.
The sun had set long ago. Shannon’s parents, Jason, and Ashley had gone home. The twins were in bed. Caleb and Dolan were shutting up the chickens for the night. He, Wendy, and Wesley were cleaning up. Dunkyn rooted around under the table, collecting any crumbs that may have been overlooked.
“You know, Wendy, I always get nervous when you have that tone in your voice.” Travis stacked another plate on the pile in the open cupboard.
Wendy scowled at him. “Don’t be mean because I’m smarter than you.”
Travis groaned and Wesley laughed but didn’t say anything. Smart man.
She continued before he could offer a retort. “As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, on my birthday, I might add, I’ve been thinking. When Wesley moves in here, it would be a little strange with all of us under the same roof. It makes sense if he and I just switch. I take over his grandparents’ house and he moves in here.”
Travis froze, a glass raised in midair in one hand, a dishtowel in the other. He glanced toward Wesley, who was similarly immobile where he’d been wiping off the table.
Wendy pressed onward, pretending not to notice her brother’s panic. “I’m sure it would take some adjusting, as the kids are used to me being here, of course. But Wesley’s house is just down the street. It’s a three-minute drive. Or, if you jog like Wesley, a ten-minute little jaunt.”
Wesley spoke, a warning inflection in his voice. “Wendy, I know it’s your birthday, but you might have overindulged on the wine. It appears to be affecting your mouth.”
She waved him off, a spray of water flicking off her fingertips. “That’s ridiculous. I’ve had enough cake that all the alcohol was absorbed. And it just makes sense. Plus, your grandparents’ house is in need of a serious makeover, and I have some ideas.”
A pang of loss cut through Travis. He’d not considered a day when Wendy didn’t live with him any longer. Though he supposed he’d been remiss in not realizing it was inevitable at some point.
The stronger sensation was excitement. He’d not allowed himself to think of the next step with Wesley. The idea of him living there, sleeping in the same bed, their bed, every night, and being a parent alongside him brought a wave of excitement.
And pure, unadulterated terror.
His gaze met Wesley’s across the room. He looked just as alarmed as Travis felt, although Travis thought he saw some longing in there as well.
Wendy kept on, her voice rising in excitement, betraying her assertion of the birthday cake’s effect. “The orders on The Crocheted Bunny’s website are really starting to take off. And with the prices Wesley forced me to charge, if it keeps up, I could really make some amazing changes to that house.”
Wesley looked away, but not before Travis noticed the corners of his lips turn up into a smile.
Wendy shook her hair over her shoulder as she plunged her hands back into the soapy water. “I’m thinking open concept, of course. And more windows, obviously. Maybe adding on a sewing room. I was thinking it might be nice to hire a manager for the store downtown and open another one at my new house. Kind of a home, workshop, store sort of combo. Maybe with a really state-of-the-art rabbit hutch outside where I could raise bunnies. Nutmeg needs a friend. Maybe there could even be a doggy door.” Wendy giggled. “Well, a bunny door, in any case.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
HE WAS proud of Caleb. Maybe that was a strange reaction to seeing his teenage son sneak a kiss from his girlfriend when he thought no one was looking, but that’s what Travis felt. Actually, he noticed it twice during the Fourth of July fireworks display. It was perhaps not pride, exactly—more happiness than anything. Caleb really was starting to act like a normal kid, finally. At least more than he used to. Travis had been worried that his and Wesley’s relationship might make his son become even more withdrawn and protective of the twins. It seemed to be having the opposite effect, though.
Thank God.
The F-350 and Wendy’s car were backed up to their chosen section of the fairground, and right on the edge so they could pull out and avoid the escaping traffic. Mason had fallen asleep before the fireworks had even begun and was curled up in a blanket in the bed of the truck. Between the addition of Wesley and Ashley, the truck wasn’t meeting the demand. He’d have to get a van or something.
He’d have to register it under Wesley’s name. He was not going to look like a soccer mom.
“Jason, throw me the volleyball setup, would ya.”
Jason bent to pick up the bag of equipment and tossed it to Travis with a grunt. “We’d better move faster or we’re gonna get stuck behind that line of cars for hours despite our good parking spots.”
He shrugged. “No rush. We can wait.”
“Maybe for you, but I got places to be.”
Wendy called over from where she and Ashley were folding up the quilts that had been spread over the ground. �
��Whoever she is, you’re probably better off right where you are. Don’t wanna have to start buying my stuffed animal lines for any of your spawn, right?”
Wesley laughed before Jason could respond.
“You find the idea of me procreating funny do you, Mr. Fancy Veterinarian? Maybe you should—”
“Travis! Wesley!” A loud yell cut Jason off.
Travis flinched and turned toward the voice, searching in the crowded darkness.
Charlie Mumock rushed toward them, panting heavily. His right hand was clasped over his side.
“Travis, I just heard on the CB… I….” Charlie stopped as he reached them, bending over and placing both hands on his knees, his portly form heaving in exertion.
Jason, who was closest, slapped him on the back. “Easy man, don’t keel over on us. Your wife would kill me if I let ya die, and I’m not giving ya mouth to mouth.”
Ignoring him, Charlie peered up at Travis, sweat pouring down his face. “Wesley’s place is on fire, man.”
“What?” Wendy dropped her edge of the quilt.
Charlie turned toward her voice, as if just seeing her. “Yeah, Wendy. We just heard on the CB as we were packing up. The clinic is on fire.”
Wendy looked from Charlie to Travis. “There must be some mistake. Why would the clinic be on fire? The police or somebody would have called us.”
Travis felt a sinking feeling in his stomach and pulled out his cell phone from his pocket. Two missed calls. He’d felt it, but it had been during the last explosions of the show. He hadn’t bothered.
He could hear other voices, Caleb and Ashley. Jason. Avery. Charlie. None of them were clear enough to understand.
“Oh shit!” Panic broke across Wesley’s stunned expression. “Oh shit! I’ve got to get there. Horace! I wasn’t even thinking!”
“What?”
Wesley gestured in frustration. “Horace. Iris Linley’s stupid cat. He’s at the clinic.” He was patting his thighs furiously. “I don’t have my phone on me. I bet they’ve been trying to call me too.”
Out of nowhere, fear washed over Travis, and he glanced over at Mason’s sleeping form in the back of the truck, then at Avery’s frightened face as she hung on to Caleb’s neck as he held her. It was irrational, but he needed to get them out of here. Out of the open.
