by Cameron Dane
“Hey, Alex darlin’.” A distinct, feminine, southern twang instantly transported Alex back to his childhood -- and sent a chill down his spine. “It’s Helen Shreveport. You remember me?”
Everything around Alex sucked away, and he felt as if he stood in a void. “What is it?” he asked, his throat already making his voice gruff.
“You told me to call if something ever happened, and I never forgot. I never lost your phone number.” Helen wheezed a bit as she spoke. “Mack ain’t gonna call you hisself, but he’s in a bad way right now. The VA clinic transferred him to a hospital in Atlanta. He’s gonna bust out and come home as soon as he can, but I got a cousin who works up there, and she told me his heart ain’t so good anymore. He’s got some problems with his gut too. I’m thinking he’s been staying alive on pure stubbornness. Not sure how much longer God’s gonna let him keep that up.”
Panic waged a war against the usual calm inside Alex. Thank God his years of education and training automatically kicked in and allowed his mind to home in on one productive goal. “I’ll be on a plane tonight.” In his head, he already began making a list of people he would need to call while packing and finding a flight. “Thank you for calling me.”
“You were always a good boy,” Helen replied. “And I know how much you love that ornery goat.”
“I’ll be there soon,” Alex said and hung up.
Son of a bitch. You bastard. How could you hide this from me? Alex’s hands itched to strangle the man. “Listen” -- Alex turned back up the walk to Sarah and Jace -- “something I can’t ignore has come up, so we’re going to have to put this celebration on hold. But be thinking about what you want as a thank-you, because we will revisit the subject.”
“Is everything okay?” Sarah rubbed his arm, and God, that fucking warm sense of connection attacked Alex again. “Are you okay?”
“You look a little agitated, Alex,” Jace added. His not referring to Alex as Quick pricked another sweet pain in Alex’s chest. “Do you need help with something?”
“No. Thank you, though. I’m getting called out of town unexpectedly, and it’s something I can’t ignore. Don’t worry.” Alex had to back away before these unprovoked acts of friendship mingled with his fear and worry about Mack and pushed him over the edge. “Those contracts will get signed, and Quick Holdings will start prepping some of the land for building new homes. I’ll let you know when I’m back in town.” He waved from over the hood of his car. “Bye.”
Without another word or looking back, Alex climbed into his car and drove away, using years of driving experience and instinct to get him back to the motel. What the hell, Mack? Helen had been right. Ornery was the perfect word to describe the guy Alex called old man. Once upon a time, when Mack had been much too young for the moniker, Alex had done it to tease, as a way to test their budding, yet still tentative, friendship that had slowly grown during Alex’s teen years. Now he did it out of complete devotion to a good man.
Mack was also the first, and possibly the only man, Alex had ever loved.
* * * *
Steady, Tenny. Steady. Hunter gripped the steering wheel with such power he thought he might fuse his hands to the leather. Just a little bit longer.
Suppressed emotion squeezed Hunter’s heart so tightly though, he thought it might kill him. Tears slammed against the backs of his eyes, wanting to get out, making it difficult to see.
I can’t wait. I need it now.
The moment Hunter reached a secluded stretch of road -- he had driven away from town after leaving his sister rather than toward it -- he pulled the car onto the shoulder and then beyond, into the cover of trees. He tore at his shirt, ripping it open and off one arm, and then dug into his pocket with his other hand. The barest, first inklings of relief hit him when his fingers closed around a cold metal object. Withdrawing it, Hunter tensed his arm muscles, anticipating first contact.
Click. The sound ricocheted through the car. Shadows prevented any light from reflecting against the knife’s pristine blade once it came out of its protective base, but that didn’t matter. Just the sound of the blade emerging allowed Hunter to believe relief would soon be at hand. As the overwhelming emotions from seeing Sarah and Jace again after so many years bubbled up in him again, Hunter put the knife against his upper arm, blade kissing his skin. His hand shook, and he chastised himself for the weakness, but a drive inside pushed him forward relentlessly. Hunter pressed the sharp metal into his flesh and sliced a short, clean line into his upper arm.
Ahh! Damn it. Damn it. Heat and acute, concentrated pain rushed to the opened skin, and Hunter exhaled as blood started to seep out and form a row of tiny beads. The burn in Hunter’s arm grew, but it wasn’t nearly fast enough; he could still feel the swell of unchecked emotion fighting to escape. He quickly drew the blade across his arm again, and then a third time, cutting himself open repeatedly, until finally the fire consuming his arm from the flayed skin demanded Hunter’s total focus in order to keep from crying out in pain. Hunter clenched his fist again and again, watching and gritting his teeth as lines of red streaked down his arm, reminding him life still flowed through him even if he couldn’t bear to feel it anymore.
Hunter had held himself together at his old house for a remarkably long time today, considering the years that had passed since seeing his sister in person. Since being able to hug her or touch her cheek or hair. Once upon a time, Hunter had been able to do that with ease, but he wasn’t that young man -- that kid -- anymore. Multiple tours of duty in the Middle East, attaching to too many people just to watch them die, had fundamentally changed his identity.
As Hunter rose above the screeching pain lighting up and down his arm, he finally started to breathe easier. The injury he’d inflicted on himself hadn’t worn him down. He hadn’t broken under the pressure. And he’d survived reuniting with his sister and best friend without losing his shit. As Hunter reached into the glove compartment to get the antiseptic and gauze to clean and bandage his cuts, he accepted without panicking he would successfully live for another day.
Still, nobody could ever know that most of the scars riddling Hunter’s body had nothing to do with engaging the enemy during his time in Afghanistan and Iraq.
CHAPTER ONE
APRIL
Aware of the eyes watching him, Hunter swallowed down the comment that he would test his new gloves at his apartment and bring them back if they didn’t fit. Uncomfortable as hell, feeling on display, he slid the black leather onto his damaged hand. Hunter had lost his pinkie and ring fingers on his left hand over a year ago. The scar tissue had completely healed, but he’d never acclimated to leaving his damaged hand uncovered. He had never gotten used to the questions that came from complete strangers as a result; he hated even more the memories of so many other crushing losses the curiosity stirred in him. Don’t think about being overseas. Think about your new job.
Hawkins Ranch had hired Hunter a couple of weeks ago. Unfortunately the gauze bandages he’d been using to cover his missing digits weren’t working out for a job on a ranch. Right away he’d realized he’d need something more durable that wouldn’t snag or unravel while doing so much physical labor. Through Risa Boone’s store, Nate’s Bait and Saddle Shop, Hunter had been able to place an order for a specially made glove.
Hunter adjusted the glove on his hand, letting his thumb and two fingers slip through the appropriate holes, and nearly sighed as smooth, cool leather covered the area where his ring finger and pinkie used to be, protecting it and the other scar tissue mapping his palm. Hunter worked the extra-long armhole up past his wrist, careful to keep his shirt cuff over his arm, blocking as much skin as he could from prying eyes. Finally he pulled the tabs across his forearm that would tighten the glove and keep it from catching on anything while doing ranch work.
A creamy hand came into Hunter’s vision but quickly pulled away before touching the leather. The hand belonged to his sister, and the withdrawal was yet another time she stopped her
self from doing what came so naturally to her. She wanted to soothe and show her love for him, but she’d picked up on Hunter’s body language not to and respected it. Every time she pulled away, it pierced Hunter’s soul. He wished he could open his mouth and tell her to look at his wound, touch it, and do everything she wanted to try to make him feel better. But he couldn’t. Just letting her and Risa look at him right now stirred up a quickening in Hunter’s heart. He had to take repeated deep, slow breaths to keep at bay the desire to cut into his skin with his pocketknife.
Using his other hand, Hunter fingered his knife in his pocket. Just the contact with the hard metal casing helped settle him enough to go on. Take another breath. Once done Hunter even managed to lean his hip against the counter, hold up his gloved hand, and grin at his sister. “What do you think?”
“It looks good on you,” Sarah replied, giving him a quick squeeze around the waist and then allowing him his space again. “I like it.”
From the other side of the counter, Risa whistled softly. “It looks pretty badass, if I’m allowed to say that.” She waggled her brows at him comically. “You have a black glove now to go with the black Stetson. Plus you’ve got the stubbly jaw thing going. I think you’re starting to look a bit like an outlaw.”
“He did cut his hair though,” Sarah told Risa. “He’s back to having this little cowlick I used to remember from when we were kids, so that takes some of the edge off the bad boy thing.”
Hunter couldn’t believe it, but his shoulders loosened and a rusty chuckle actually escaped. Maybe for the first since he’d come back to the States. “I meant do you think it’s practical?” he asked. “Not if I look good in it. Will it hold up at work?”
Sarah turned to Risa with an unspoken What do you think? in her raised brow.
“Oh yeah, I think so,” Risa answered. “The workmanship is top notch, so there’s nothing to worry about in that regard. It’s just going to be a matter of getting used to it. It’s really not a bad idea.” She picked up a brown glove cut in the same design and held it against the back of her palm. “I mean, I have my own work gloves of course, but I only use them about half the time. It’s not doable for all ranch work. But something like this, where you have your palms protected with a nice thin layer of leather but still have fingers free…” As she put the glove back down, she fingered the soft leather once more before pushing her strawberry-colored braid over her shoulder. “I might have to get myself a pair.”
“Good.” Dipping his head, Hunter offered a tight smile. “It means a lot to know you think it’ll be good for me. Thanks.”
“Why don’t you try on the brown one too, just in case?” Risa suggested. “That way if there’s a problem I can get Leigh to make a call and take care of it right away.”
“Right. Good idea.” Hunter worked off the black glove and slipped on the brown.
He had purchased two gloves for his damaged hand: one for work and one for everything else. He figured it wouldn’t take long for the work one to get rank. People wouldn’t want to see and smell it when he had to go to the grocery store or when Sarah managed to drag him to a restaurant or her house for a meal. Different colors would make them quick to identify. Plus if something happened to his work one, he’d have a second one immediately available to relegate for work, and then have a new one made to replace the everyday one.
The brown glove fit as beautifully as the black, and since Sarah had cornered him into a meal with Jace and Jasper at the diner tonight, Hunter went ahead and left it on. Might as well start getting used to it. He paid the remainder of his balance on the special order, said good night to Risa, and followed his sister out of the store.
Sarah slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow, and Hunter jerked at the contact. Immediately Sarah pulled away, murmuring an apology.
Fuck. Every time Hunter reacted on instinct, it hurt the people around him. People who just wanted to help. Shit. “You can hold my arm, you know.” Hunter forced himself to jut out his elbow in welcome. “It surprised me for a minute, that’s all.”
“It’s all right.” Rather than grabbing him again, Sarah rubbed his shoulder. “We have a little bit of time before meeting Jace and Jasper. Do you mind if we run inside the youth center for a minute?” She waited for a couple of cars to pass, and then nudged him across the street. “I need to talk to Ty about one of the kids.”
“Yeah. Fine,” Hunter answered. Sarah trotted up the few steps to the entrance, but Hunter held back. “I can wait outside. There’s a nice breeze in the air this evening.”
“I shouldn’t be more than fifteen minutes. Oh!” Sarah collided with someone exiting the building. As soon as she looked up, she smiled.
From the sidewalk, Hunter automatically stiffened as he recognized the blond hair, classically handsome face, and tight body. They’d not crossed paths since banging into each other the day Hunter had returned to Quinten, but enough of Hunter’s coworkers and people in town had been buzzing about the rich guy fixing to build fancy houses that Hunter knew this was the outsider to whom they referred, Alexander Quick.
“Hi, stranger.” Sarah gave the man one of her fast squeezes. “I haven’t seen you in forever.”
Alex grinned back at Sarah. “I know. I had to go out of town for a while, and I missed you when I popped back in to sign the contracts.” The breeze picked up and rustled through the man’s hair, bringing to Hunter’s attention that the neat, shorn style of their first meeting wasn’t quite as perfect today. “I just wanted to check in with Ty and give a quick session to the kids in my program before I head out for the weekend again.”
A frown marred his sister’s pretty face. “Is everything okay?”
“Handling some stuff that can’t be ignored.” For a split second, the man’s mouth pulled down at the edges, but a smile slipped back in the next second. He added, “I’m fine.”
“Not that you’d tell me if you weren’t,” Sarah grumbled. “You’re pretty much like all the other men in my life that way.”
Hunter swore pink tinged Alex’s cheeks just then. The guy’s shoulders pushed back so straight it made him look a good two inches taller.
“You honor me by putting me in that company,” Alex shared softly, but Hunter still heard him. Couldn’t ignore the flutter the gentle tone evoked low in his belly either.
Oh no. No. No. Heat suddenly burned down Hunter’s back, and a terrible, panicky thumping erupted in his chest. You are not attracted to him.
“Speaking of…” Sarah tugged Alex down the steps. “You have not officially met Hunter. Alex Quick, please meet my favorite brother in the world --”
“Your only brother,” Hunter cut in, trying to force a joke. Laughing sometimes helped calm him down.
“Still my favorite.” Sarah glanced at Hunter with a mock scowl. “Don’t kill my intro, Bro. Alex, meet Hunter.” Christ. She easily curled her arm around this newcomer’s elbow, clearly without worrying about him flinching. “And, Hunter” -- giving Hunter a few seconds of eye contact, Sarah then lightly touched his arm -- “this is my friend, Alex.”
An oh-so-fucking sexy, warm chuckle jerked Hunter’s attention to Alex. The guy waited with his hand extended in Hunter’s direction.
“I’ll try this without crashing into you this time,” Alex said. “It’s good to meet you, Hunter.”
Hunter furiously rubbed at the knife in his pocket. His mind flashed on making a good, deep cut into his thigh before he could command his body to extend his right hand and force himself to clasp this stranger’s hand in return.
“I was the one with my head down that day. It was my fault.” Hunter couldn’t seem to focus on anything but the strong grip holding his. It feels so fucking secure. “I apologize,” he murmured, his stare still on those long fingers wrapped around his.
“Not necessary,” Alex said, still clasping Hunter’s hand.
“Shoot.” Sarah grabbed Alex’s wrist and turned it to reflect the big, chunky face of his watch. In doing so, s
he severed the contact between Alex and Hunter. “I need to grab Ty before he starts gathering up the kids who need rides home.” She tore back up the stairs, calling over her shoulder, “I’ll be right back!”
Now alone, silence reigned between the men. Hunter didn’t know where the hell to look or what to do, but he didn’t think staying trapped in this man’s intoxicating green gaze ranked anywhere near the top of his list of good ideas. Being so close made Hunter think about those eyes getting all hazy with desire and then going cloudy as the man shouted in the throes of release while Hunter had every inch of his cock buried deep in this man’s ass. Damn it. Hunter grunted and turned away, squeezing his eyes shut as the first stirring of an erection twitched his prick against his jeans. Jesus Christ. The reaction sucker punched him. He hadn’t experienced genuine arousal in too many years. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d had sex with another man. And now I don’t trust myself to attempt it anymore.
Alex cleared his throat, and the deep, scratchy sound snapped Hunter back around and his attention off the ground. Hunter had studied his own tension enough in a mirror to detect it in another person from a mile away, and Alexander Quick showed all the signs of stiffness right now.
Fuck. Now I’m making complete strangers uncomfortable.
“Okay, well…” Alex pointed behind him and started backing down the sidewalk. “It was nice to meet you, but I have to get going. Can you tell Sarah good-bye for me? I’m heading back out of town early tomorrow morning, but I just got my new trailer delivered to the property, so I still need to check out of the motel and move my stuff before I leave. No sense in paying for a room for two more days that I won’t be in.” The pink slashes across Alex’s cheeks became full-on ruddy red. “Which you didn’t need to know. Right.” Hands returned to Alex’s pockets, and he spun away. “Bye.”
Before realizing it, Hunter strode the two steps it took to catch up to Alex. “Even though people are calling you an outsider, I’m sure what you’re doing is fine.” Holy hell. Why in God’s name had he blurted out that? “I don’t think you’re trying to take over the town.” Fucking A. He’d done it again.
