One Word

by Anne Barwell

  “I’m not sure,” Ethan began. He’d been distracted enough thinking about Donovan asleep in the bed on his own. But sharing with him?

  “We’re both adults, and people share beds all the time.” Donovan tilted his head sideways as though thinking. “Do you want to hang a sheet?”

  “Hang a sheet?”

  “To split the bed in half,” Donovan explained. “That way we have a side each.”

  “If we’re going to share, we’ll share.” Ethan snorted. “It’s not as though I’m planning to… um….”

  “Of course not.” Donovan went red. “Hey, it’s not as though I’m trying to hit on you. I just thought… we both need some sleep, and as I said, it seems silly for either of us to take the couch or the floor when the bed is big enough for both of us.”

  “I’m not trying to hit on you either.” Ethan shoved the ridiculous idea out of his mind. After Donovan’s nightmare, it would feel like taking advantage of a friend, and that’s all they were. Right?

  “Good,” Donovan said. “It’s settled, then. What side do you want?”

  “I usually sleep on the left.”

  Donovan grinned. “That’s good, because I prefer the right, and this way we don’t have to flip for it.”

  “HMM.” DONOVAN snuggled closer and kissed the neck of the man lying in his arms. The man sighed and leaned back into Donovan’s embrace, but didn’t stir.

  It’s just a dream, though it’s a damn good one.

  But it felt so real. He could feel the guy’s unshaven stubble under his fingertips, hear his heartbeat. Feel his own speed up as his body reacted to their closeness.

  I don’t want to wake up.

  He felt relaxed, safe, and horny. The last time he’d felt like this was with Lee. God, he missed him. He’d often wake early and watch Lee sleep. Find himself curled around him just like this.

  The thing with dreams was they didn’t last. As soon as he opened his eyes, this would be gone. The same way Lee was gone.

  “Love you,” he whispered, although Lee knew it anyway. He’d always liked to hear it, had told Donovan to say it as often as he wanted to. The same way he’d told Donovan to live his life and be happy. They were supposed to have done that together. “Miss you so much.”

  Lee murmured something and stirred in his sleep. Except it wasn’t Lee’s voice. Donovan frowned. If it wasn’t Lee, why was it familiar? He hadn’t slept with—

  Oh crap!

  Donovan opened his eyes with a start. No wonder it felt real.

  He was in bed with Ethan. Not only was Donovan lying in bed, wrapped around Ethan, but he could feel his hard erection pushing up against Ethan’s ass.

  Ethan mumbled something in his sleep again, and Donovan froze. The last thing he needed was for Ethan to wake up and find them like this.

  Not them. Donovan.

  Had he whispered those words aloud? He hoped not. Donovan didn’t want to screw up their friendship by having Ethan think he’d only offered to share the bed because he wanted to fuck him.

  Which he didn’t.

  At least not yet.

  Oh crap. Double crap.

  Donovan carefully disentangled himself from Ethan. He backed toward the side of the bed, careful not to make any sudden moves. Luckily Ethan was still sound asleep. Donovan slipped out of the bed. Ethan stirred again, and rolled onto his side, so he was facing Donovan, although his eyes were closed. A slight smile tugged at Ethan’s lips, and he placed one hand over the cheek Donovan had caressed earlier.

  The cheek Donovan had thought was Lee’s.

  I should leave.

  Donovan stood for a moment, watching Ethan sleep. He looked so peaceful, so beautiful, his hair curling around the edges, mussed up, his pajama sleeve riding up one arm. His fingers were long, dark hairs covering the back of his hand. Donovan took a step closer, reaching to tuck back a stray lock of hair that had fallen forward.

  He stopped himself in time.

  I shouldn’t be doing this.

  It felt as though he was intruding, watching someone who wasn’t his. Ethan had been concerned about his nightmare. Would he still be once he found out why Donovan couldn’t rid himself of the memories? Ethan had mentioned stuff being worse around anniversaries, but this wasn’t an anniversary. Donovan didn’t need an anniversary to remember what he’d done.

  He flinched, turned around, and walked out of the room.

  He needed to forget. To find something to….

  Hang on. It wasn’t the dream that had woken him. His memories of that day had come later, when he was awake. He and Ethan had gone to bed, and both had fallen asleep quickly. The next thing Donovan remembered was waking up curled around Ethan.

  The nightmares hadn’t returned.

  Donovan absently filled the kettle and rinsed out their cups from the night before. Ethan was still sleeping. He’d make him some breakfast when he woke up. Meantime, there had to be something else he could do. He glanced toward the bookshelf but then remembered he’d left the book he’d been reading in the bedroom on the nightstand.

  He didn’t want to risk waking Ethan yet. The guy needed to sleep. He’d looked shattered in the middle of the night, and the longer Donovan could put between his dream and reality, the better chance he had to keep them separate.

  Even so, he couldn’t help but smile when he thought about how he’d felt with Ethan in his arms. Like Ethan belonged there, and the two of them fit.

  He poured himself a coffee, and stared out the window as he’d done the night before. He’d made a mistake suggesting they share a bed. Luckily he’d woken first. As much as Donovan was attracted to Ethan, he didn’t want to move too fast. Ethan had his own demons, and Donovan suspected this Duncan guy was part of it. Besides, Ethan only had a short time left in Oakwood, and then he’d head back to London, and Donovan would probably never see him again.

  An insistent drip brought him back to reality. The damn tap was still playing up. Donovan needed a distraction. It was a match made in heaven.

  He drained his coffee, found Ethan’s tools in the cupboard, and set to work. Luckily there was an assortment of washers in with the tools, and one of them was an exact fit. It felt good to occupy his hands, even if his thoughts still wandered in directions they shouldn’t.

  “What are you doing?” Ethan’s voice made Donovan jump.

  “Ow.” Donovan slid out from under the sink and rubbed his head. “You made me hit my head.”

  “You wouldn’t have if you hadn’t been under the sink.” Ethan didn’t look impressed. “I hope you’re not replacing that washer. I told you I’d get someone in to do it in a few days.”

  Donovan disappeared under the sink and twisted the wrench one last time. “That should do it.”

  Ethan yanked him out. “You did replace the washer, didn’t you?”

  “Thanks, Donovan. I really appreciate you saving me having to call a tradesman.” Donovan busied himself putting the tools away.

  “I didn’t invite you to stay so you could work. You have enough to do fixing Heidi’s Land Rover.” Ethan glared at him and threw Donovan his T-shirt. “What part of ‘I don’t expect you to fix leaking taps’ don’t you get?”

  “I like to help,” Donovan said. He shrugged his T-shirt back on, having taken it off so it wouldn’t get dirty. It looked like Ethan wasn’t a morning person when he was at home either. “Sorry,” he mumbled when Ethan didn’t answer.

  Ethan sighed. “You meant well. And it’s fixed, right?” He fished two cups from the cupboard. “Get yourself cleaned up, and I’ll make breakfast.”

  “Thanks. Apology accepted too.” Donovan stretched. The area under Ethan’s sink was cramped, and he felt his muscles protesting. “I’ll grab a shower, if that’s okay.” He’d decided against one the night before, his need for sleep winning out against the thought of standing under an inviting spray of hot water.

  “Sure. Towels are in the same cupboard where I got the sheets from last night. Help yourself.”
/>
  Donovan set off down the hallway. Halfway through getting undressed, he remembered something. “Shit.” He’d turned off the isolation valve under the sink before he started work and forgotten to turn it back on again. “Hang on a moment.” He grabbed his T-shirt and yanked it on.

  By the time he reached the kitchen, Ethan was already standing over the sink, kettle in hand. “Don’t worry. I turned the isolation valve back on after I figured that was why there was no water coming out of the tap.”

  “I thought you were better at—”

  Ethan turned on the tap. A gush of water sprayed out, hitting him square in the face. He spluttered and dropped the kettle. It fell to the floor, the lid coming off and smashing to pieces.

  “I thought you fixed this!”

  “I did! I’m….” Donovan started to apologize but burst out laughing instead. Ethan was soaking wet, and his expression could only be described as a mixture of indignation and anger. “I’m sorry, but….” Donovan tried to bite back more laughter and failed miserably.

  “I’m wet!” Ethan took a step back. “Just fix it, okay?”

  ETHAN’S MOOD hadn’t improved much by that afternoon. When they got back to the inn, he made an excuse about having work to do and disappeared upstairs. One look in the mirror confirmed he’d forgotten to shave that morning, but he decided it could wait until the following day. One day without shaving wouldn’t hurt, and the last thing he needed was to wander into the bathroom and get another eyeful of a shirtless Donovan. One look at him that morning, and Ethan had stuffed up when he should have been paying attention. He knew how to turn on a bloody valve—he’d learned it the hard way that last time he’d tried to fix a tap.

  He hadn’t reacted well when Donovan had laughed at him. It was too close to Duncan’s reaction that first time. Both men had laughed at him when he’d been soaking wet.

  Heidi looked up when he walked into the kitchen. “You look tired,” she said.

  “Is it that obvious?” Ethan poured himself a cup of coffee, put it to his lips, and realized what he’d done just in time. Shit, he was really out of it.

  “Er, yeah.” Heidi chuckled at his horrified expression. “I’ve made a pot of tea. Want some?”

  “Sure. Thanks.” Ethan watched her carry the pot and a plate of scones over to the table. “Donovan around?” he said, keeping his tone casual.

  “He’s gone for a run.” Heidi glanced at her watch. “He’ll be at least another hour.”

  “Oh.” Ethan had never seen the appeal of an afternoon run, of any kind of run actually.

  “What happened with you guys?” Heidi asked. “Donovan’s not talking much since you got back, and that’s never a good sign. He told me that your friend loved his work and wants to do business, so it’s not that.”

  “So he’s talking about some stuff, just not about other stuff.”

  “Something like that, yes.” Heidi raised one eyebrow. “Honestly, you guys need someone to bang your heads together. I swear you’re as bad as each other.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Ethan said testily. “Besides, whatever is going on between Donovan and me is none of your business.” She gave him an “oh really” look, and he continued hurriedly, “Not that there’s anything going on.” Her look turned to one of disbelief. “Umm, we’re friends. Actually I hardly know him. And it’s still no business of yours.”

  What was it with women being able to say so much with a look? Tomas’s sister, Kathleen, had this silent conversation stuff down pat too. It drove Ethan crazy.

  Heidi poured two cups of tea. “As I said, you guys are as bad as each other.” She pushed one of the cups toward Ethan. Leaving the table was apparently not an option at this point. “As to it being my business, Ethan, you have a lot to learn. I’ve known Donovan a very long time. He’s family in all the ways that count, so I figure I’m allowed to go big sister on your ass, and his.”

  He opened his mouth to point out she was the same age as Donovan, but shut it again quickly. “I’m listening,” he said.

  “Good.” Heidi smiled.

  Ethan fought the urge to get up and find somewhere to hide. He’d seen that smile before too. But despite having a decent sense of self-preservation, he studied his cup and waited for the storm to hit.

  “I like you, Ethan,” Heidi continued. “So does Donovan, and more than he’s willing to admit to anyone, including, I suspect, himself. I’ve seen the way he looks at you, and I haven’t seen him do that for a very long time.” She took a sip of tea. “Has he told you about his past at all?”

  “No.” Ethan scratched at the stubble on his chin. “He mentioned something about the Marines, but didn’t answer when I asked him if he knows someone who is one.”

  “It’s something he doesn’t talk about to anyone.” Heidi took another sip of tea before continuing. “Something bad happened while he was on his last tour. It was a long time before he was like he was before, but even now, there’s still something haunting him.”

  “I’ve heard his nightmares,” Ethan said. So Donovan had been a Marine? Ethan shuddered. He’d read enough to know what kind of horrors Donovan might have experienced if he’d been in combat. No wonder the poor bloke had nightmares. “They must be pretty bad if he won’t talk to you about it.” He chewed on his lip. “Umm…. So why are you telling me this? If he won’t talk to you, he certainly won’t talk to me. I’m rubbish at relationship… umm… friend… stuff.”

  “I don’t know you well enough to agree or disagree with that, but as I said, I’ve seen the way he looks at you.” Heidi placed her hand over his, just briefly, before removing it. He took the gesture to mean she trusted him just a bit, even though the conversation they were having suggested that anyway, so didn’t protest. “I’ve seen the way you look at him too. Sometimes it’s easier to talk to someone you don’t know as well, if that makes sense.”

  “I’m lost now.” Ethan couldn’t quite work out where she was going with all of this. “Firstly you imply we have some kind of relationship when we don’t, and then you say he might talk to me because we don’t really know each other? You can’t have it both ways.”

  “I think we’re talking at cross-purposes.” Heidi grew silent for a moment. “Can I ask you to be honest with me and yourself, Ethan?”

  “I am being….” Ethan trailed off and fought the urge to squirm in his seat. Darn it, she’d known him a week and already thought she had him figured out?

  “Uh-huh.” Heidi looked more than a little smug. “You like Donovan, right? And he likes you.” She held up her hand when Ethan opened his mouth. “I’m not expecting you to rush into something or tell each other you’re desperately in love. We’re not in the middle of a romance novel.”

  “Thank God for that,” Ethan muttered. While he had to admit he was growing fond of Donovan and enjoyed spending time with him, he wasn’t sure he was ready to enter into another relationship just yet. Yesterday, and the incident with the water that morning, had proved that his breakup with Duncan was still too much of an open wound.

  Heidi either chose to ignore his comment or hadn’t heard it. “The two of you have been spending time together, and something’s eating at him. I was hoping that, given the connection I suspect you have, he might open up to you more than he has to me. He’s been having these nightmares a long time, and it’s no way to live.”

  “No, it’s not.” Ethan agreed with her on that one. “So you want me to talk to him and see what happens?” It sounded reasonable in theory. He suspected Donovan would just change the subject and refuse to talk anyway. At least this way Ethan could say he’d tried, and he could walk away with a clear conscience. From what Ethan had seen and heard, Donovan was definitely haunted by something.

  “Yes.” Heidi looked suddenly unsure. “Look, I’m probably overstepping here, and if I am, I’m sorry. Donovan’s been even more on edge than usual since you arrived. All I’m saying, I guess, is that he needs a friend. Someone who isn’t me,
who didn’t know him before whatever happened, happened.”

  “I can do that,” Ethan said. He finished his tea and decided to give the scones a miss until later. His stomach had started to churn, and his hands were clammy. He wiped them on his jeans. “Where does he go running?” If he was going to do this, he wanted to get it over and done with.

  “By the river,” Heidi told him. “He usually heads for St. Aiden’s church, before turning around and heading back. He sticks to this side of the river, so I doubt you’d miss him.”

  “Right.” Ethan stood. “For what it’s worth, Heidi, I don’t agree with everything you’ve said, but thanks for trusting me enough to tell me a little bit about Donovan. I’ve never appreciated people keeping secrets.”

  “Everyone keeps secrets in some shape or form. You do too.”

  “Yes, but I know why I do.”

  “That almost makes sense.” Heidi rolled her eyes. “But yeah, if you want to know anything about Donovan’s, he’ll have to tell you himself. It’s not my place.” A loud meow sounded from outside. Heidi jerked her head in the direction it had come from immediately. “I’ll talk to you later, and good luck.” She strode toward the door, a glimmer of hope reflected in her eyes. “Blackthorn? Here, kitty, kitty.”

  Ethan doubted it was the missing cat, but whoever it was had interrupted the conversation before Heidi decided to hug him—he could see it was coming, and he wasn’t a hugger. People who had known him a while might get away with it, but not here and not now.

  He ducked out of the kitchen before she came back, and headed up the stairs to grab his coat. Donovan was a friend, or at least Ethan liked to think they were friends. And as much as he wasn’t ready to enter into anything more than friendship, he had to admit he really liked Donovan. As in really really liked. He knew that was why he’d been so snotty the day before. It wasn’t just the text from Troy and seeing Duncan’s painting, but his growing awareness of just how much he was attracted to Donovan.