Cherry Pie

by Samantha Kane

  “If it helps,” John told him with a sheepish look, “I’m sore too.”

  Conn let out a bark of laughter. “It helps.” John smiled back at him and watched him dry himself off.

  “We can go home if you want to,” John offered tentatively.

  Conn shook his head. “No.” He wrapped the towel around his waist. “I want to take you somewhere first.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  “I love the houses here,” John said as they drove down the main street at Kure Beach. He watched the bright blues, purples, greens, and yellows of the houses flash by. “They’re like boxy Easter eggs basking in the sun.”

  Conn snorted. “Thank God they don’t smell like eggs in the sun.”

  John laughed and turned slightly in his seat to face Conn. “I like it here. It’s a great beach. That pier and the little amusement park reminded me of Santa Monica.” He peered out the windshield. “Whoa, what happened to the houses? Tell me again where we are.”

  “This is Fort Fisher,” Conn explained. “It’s just at the end of Kure Beach. Some of it’s still Air Force housing, but most of Fort Fisher is a state park.” He pointed to a small building and some man-made earthen mounds as they drove past. “That’s the real Fort Fisher. It’s a Civil War historical site and museum now.” He pointed to the left. “And that’s the beach. It’s part of the park here.” He pointed straight down the road. “And at the end is the aquarium.”

  “It’s been years since I went to an aquarium,” John said.

  “I used to go with my mom every few months,” Conn said. He pulled into the parking lot. It was pretty full, but they found a spot.

  Conn loved the aquarium. Some of his favorite memories were those trips with his mom. Days when he had her all to himself and she didn’t have to work at all.

  He got almost as much pleasure from John’s enjoyment of the touch tank, where they stroked the rough surfaces of live starfish and sea urchins, as he did from just being there. The place had grown a bit since he’d been here last. He liked that. He liked that something in his past had improved with age.

  They had their picture taken together. John started to say no, but Conn pulled him over to the little picture station. For some stupid reason he wanted a picture of them. He wanted to remember sharing this with John.

  When they left, John looked happier and more relaxed than he had in days. More like he’d been before they’d had sex the first time. Maybe Conn had pushed too far too fast? He was the one who’d gone to John, after all. Maybe John wasn’t ready for that. With him or anyone. He sighed as they got into the car.

  “Where to now?” John asked. “The museum?”

  “If you like,” Conn said.

  “Why do you do that?”

  Conn looked at John in surprise. “Do what?”

  “Defer to someone else all the time. Whenever I ask what you want, you always say whatever I want, or some variation of it anyway. Why?” John was frowning. Jesus, Conn could piss him off without even trying.

  “I don’t do it to everyone. I do it to you. And I do it because I mean it. Making you happy makes me happy.” Conn glanced at him over his shoulder as he backed out of the parking space. “And I only told you that because I know you won’t be happy until I answer the question.”

  John laughed. “You’re right, of course.” He put on his sunglasses. “It didn’t take long for you to figure me out, did it?”

  “Shit, Johnny, I ain’t got you figured out yet. I don’t think I ever will.”

  John gave him an inscrutable look through his dark glasses. “Take me where you want to go,” John told him finally, and he turned to face the front of the car.

  “You got it,” Conn answered.

  They didn’t have far to go. Connor pulled the car into the parking lot for the museum.

  “So I get a Civil War lesson?” John asked lightly. He didn’t really care where they went. He had shut off his paranoid inner voice and was just enjoying the day with Connor. He was getting to see a side of Connor he hadn’t seen before. He was lighter here. Still didn’t say much, but he smiled a lot more. John liked that.

  He couldn’t believe how different things were with Connor than they’d been with Steve. When he and Steve had done the sightseeing thing, it had been almost as if they were there separately. Once or twice Steve had run into people he knew from the military, and John had to disappear. So most of their relationship had been conducted at John’s house. Ten years of having a partner yet leading separate lives. But none of that with Connor. He’d been right by John’s side the whole way through the aquarium. Even in Mercury, around his friends, he didn’t distance himself.

  “Not unless you want one,” Connor responded to his comment about a history lesson. When they exited the car, Connor went around and opened up the little trunk. He’d shoved two beach chairs in there when they’d left this morning.

  “So we’re going to the beach?”

  “If you want.” Connor carefully closed the trunk. He was so careful with everything of John’s. He was careful with John too.

  That didn’t prevent John from getting impatient with him, however. Hadn’t he just told him not to defer to him all the time? “Connor…” he growled.

  Connor grinned at him. “Grab your chair and follow me.”

  John took the bright orange chair from Connor. They’d borrowed them from the rental house. “Why is everything here so brightly colored?” He looked around at the parking lot and museum, which were not. “Well, not here. But at Kure Beach.”

  Connor shrugged. “They like it that way, I suppose.”

  Connor was leading him across the road to a stand of tall trees in a small area between the road and a parking lot for the beach. It was shady under the trees, with a thin blanket of green on the ground. John could feel the ocean breeze.

  When they got to the middle of the green area, right there under the trees, Connor suddenly stopped and opened his chair and sat down. John looked around. There wasn’t much to see here. The big rock border lining the beach, the parking lots, the ocean just visible over the rock break. It was cool, though, and there wasn’t much traffic at all. John could hear the leaves on the trees rustling in the breeze. He opened his chair and sat down next to Connor.

  “Why are we here?” he asked tentatively a few minutes later when Connor just settled back in his chair and stared at the blue sky with big puffy clouds over the ocean.

  “This.”

  John rolled his eyes. “And ‘this’ is?”

  “Sitting. Relaxing.”

  “Oh-kay,” John said. He tried to relax like Connor. Hmm, well, that wasn’t as hard as he’d thought it would be.

  Just as he was settling in and his eyelids began to droop, lulled by the slowly moving clouds and the soft breeze and the rustle of leaves, Connor asked, “Why are you here, John?”

  John looked at Connor askance out of the corner of his eye. “I thought I was relaxing?”

  Connor shook his head, not looking at John. “Not here. North Carolina. Mercury.”

  “Ahh,” John said, hedging. Connor didn’t push. He just sat there waiting. But John felt his determination in the air. Connor would wait as long as it took, and he’d keep asking until John answered. John had learned a few things about Connor too.

  “Steve was stationed here, right before he died. At Fort Bragg.” He really, really, really did not want to get into this with Connor right now, during their day together away from everyone and everything.

  Connor just waited. John ground his teeth. “Fine.” He readjusted himself in the chair, sitting up. He didn’t look at Connor, but it didn’t matter. Connor wasn’t looking at him either. “I told you I’d been to Myrtle Beach? I went with Steve, the one time I came to visit him. We drove through Mercury.”

  He didn’t say anything more. Finally, after several silent, tense minutes, Connor looked at him. “And?”

  John sighed. What the hell. “He mentioned, driving through, that it would be
a great place to settle down. Maybe not Mercury, but a place just like it. He went on and on about the two of us buying a house and fixing it up, retiring.”

  “So you came to fulfill his dream?”

  John snorted in disgust at Connor’s question. “It was a lie, Connor. Everything with Steve was a lie. Not just because he was in the army and we had to live that way. But because he wanted me to believe there was more waiting for us in the future. He lied so I wouldn’t get sick of his long absences and his fickle libido.” John leaned down and picked up a stick from the ground and started peeling the bark off with his thumb. “So I came to Mercury. Because I did want that dream. He knew it. He knew just what lie to tell me. So I came to remember both the dream and the lie.”

  Connor sighed. “Sometimes, John, the lies we tell ourselves are the only thing that make the truth bearable.”

  John tossed the stick aside and turned to look at Connor. “What does that mean?”

  Connor ran both hands through his hair and then laced his fingers behind his head, leaning back and staring at the sky. “It means maybe the lies weren’t for you. Maybe the lies were for him because he hated the way he was living. Maybe the only way he could get through one more day was to tell himself those lies and dream those dreams. Even if on the really bad days he knew them for the lies they were.”

  John collapsed back in his chair, overwhelmed at what Connor had said. Was it true? Was dreaming of that future with John what had gotten Steve through each day? Connor wasn’t looking at him, but he could see his face and the sad expression on it. Connor was speaking from experience.

  “What was your lie, Connor?” he asked quietly.

  Connor shook his head. “No, no lie. I came back, didn’t I?” He lowered his arms and looked at John then. “And it’s better than I told myself it would be.”

  Later that night John followed Connor into the shower. He took the soap from Connor’s hand.

  “Let me.”

  Slowly he washed Connor. When he was covered in the slick bubbles, John turned him and reached around his hip to grasp his cock. John’s soapy caresses had aroused him. He felt like an idiot because of the way he’d treated Connor last night. He knew Connor liked it like this, slow and easy. Personal. Connor liked it very personal.

  “What are you doing?” Connor asked in that deep, quiet voice of his.

  “Making you happy.” John’s hand slid smoothly up and down Connor’s cock, and he felt a little shiver race over Connor’s back pressed against his chest.

  “You don’t have to do this to make me happy.”

  Connor’s words stopped John, but just for a moment. “Okay. Then it makes me happy.”

  “All right, then,” Connor answered with a smile in his voice. He dragged John’s other hand up and pressed it over one nipple, rubbing his palm there. He made a satisfied rumbling sound that reverberated in his chest. It was John’s turn to shiver. He got off on Connor’s pleasure.

  “This is different,” he said.

  “Different how?” Connor asked. His voice was low and a little breathless as he braced his forearm on the wall. John rubbed the soap over his chest and stomach and jacked him slowly.

  “Different than what I’m used to.” He didn’t go into detail. Connor didn’t need to know that with Steve he’d never been in charge. Steve directed everything they did, every touch, every kiss—everything. John enjoyed doing what he liked to Connor. Making Connor squirm just because he could and because he wanted to.

  Connor chuckled. “Not my usual gig either.”

  John laughed softly and gave Connor a little squeeze that made him groan. “Good. I want it to be special between us.”

  Connor took the hand that lay against his chest and lifted it to his mouth, kissing John’s palm. “Johnny,” he whispered.

  “That’s right,” John said, stepping closer, until he was plastered against Connor’s back and ass. He rubbed his cheek in the hollow between Connor’s shoulder blades. “Don’t forget it. Don’t forget who I am.”

  Connor shook his head. “No. You either.”

  John held Connor tightly, feeling how close he was to climax. “No. No, I won’t forget.”

  Connor came gently, pressing into John’s fist with a moan. As he was coming he wrapped a hand around John’s on his cock, keeping him there. John had nowhere else he wanted to be.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Come on.”

  Conn felt a hand on his shoulder shaking him awake. He jerked and jackknifed into a sitting position. It took a second for him to remember where he was. Jesus, his heart was racing. He placed a hand over it and tried to calm down.

  John stood back a couple of steps from the bed, concern on his face. “I’m sorry, Connor. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  He just shook his head. He was being an asshole. “No. It’s not your fault.” He glanced over and was surprised to see sunlight trying to stream in through the tiny cracks in the miniblinds. “What time is it?” He rubbed his face roughly with both hands.

  “It’s almost ten.”

  Conn looked at John then. He frowned. “That can’t be right. I never sleep that late.”

  John grinned. “I guess I tired you out the last couple of days.” He came over and sat on the side of the bed next to Conn and ran a hand from his shoulder down his arm. “This place relaxes you. I can tell. Maybe that’s why you slept so well.” He grabbed Conn’s hand and pulled. “Come on, sleepyhead. I’ve got something to show you.”

  Conn was still logy from sleeping so late, and he let John pull him out of bed. He finally noticed that John was completely dressed. “When did you get up?”

  “I’ve been up for hours,” John said, grabbing Conn’s shorts and throwing them at him. Conn caught them against his chest. His T-shirt came flying over next. “Get dressed.”

  Conn started to bend over to put his shorts on.

  “Wait,” John said. Conn stood up and faced John with a questioning look. John gave him a sexy little grin. “I just wanted to enjoy the view.” He walked over and slid his hand down Conn’s chest and stomach and around his back to squeeze his ass. Conn’s dick got very interested in waking up. “You’ve put on weight the last couple of weeks. I like it,” John said. He leaned over and kissed Conn’s neck and patted his ass, then stepped back. “Hurry up. I’ve got something to show you.”

  Conn laughed. “You already said that.” He pulled his shorts on and grabbed his T-shirt from the bed. “It better be good for all the fuss.”

  John rubbed his hands together. “Oh, it’s good.”

  They pulled up in front of another beach house, this one bright yellow. John had a huge grin on his face as he watched Conn’s reaction. Conn didn’t really have one. They were going to switch houses? How long did John plan to stay? Conn was anxious to get back to Mercury. All the new plants were going to die if no one watered them.

  There was another car parked in front of them, and a woman stepped out on the porch above and waved at them.

  “Who’s that?” Conn asked.

  John was opening his door and didn’t look at Conn. “The Realtor.”

  Conn frowned. He glanced over and saw a SOLD sticker on the FOR SALE sign in front of the house. He got a sinking feeling in his gut. “Johnny, what have you done?” he asked quietly, knowing John wouldn’t hear him. He was already halfway up the stairs, his hand stuck out to shake the Realtor’s.

  Conn got out slowly, turning to shut the car door so he could compose his face before John saw his uneasiness. He took a deep breath.

  “Connor!” John shouted from the steps. Like the entry doors of most beach houses, the entrance to this one was up a flight of stairs, because the house acted like a carport, standing on tall stilts with the driveway beneath it.

  Conn walked slowly up the steps to where John and the Realtor both stood beaming at him.

  “So is this the special guy?” the Realtor asked with a waggle of her brows and an annoying giggle. “Pretty special,
I’d say.”

  John rolled his eyes so only Conn could see. “Connor, this is Mary Ann Shipley. Mary Ann, Connor Meecham.”

  She held out her hand, and Conn tried to smile, but he could tell by her reaction it came out more of a grimace.

  There was an awkward silence. But like all good salespeople Mary Ann filled it. “Well, come on. Let’s have a look, shall we?” She led them inside. Looking over her shoulder, she asked, “Which would you like to see first? The second-floor bedrooms? Or this floor? There’s actually a small second kitchen on the third floor.” She sounded as if a second kitchen was the most amazing scientific breakthrough since penicillin.

  “Could you excuse us for a moment?” Conn asked politely, standing just inside the front door. “John?”

  John was looking between Conn and Realtor Mary Ann anxiously. “Um, sure.”

  Mary Ann’s lips thinned so much her orange lipstick disappeared. “I’ll be right out on the back balcony. It came furnished with some very handsome deck furniture.”

  Conn bit his lip before he could tell her he didn’t give a shit about deck furniture. “Thanks.”

  While he waited for her to walk out, Conn looked around. The house was a lot like the one they were renting, except the furniture was nicer. It looked like leather. White leather. Who bought white leather furniture?

  When the door out to the deck closed, John turned to him with a blank face. “You don’t like it.”

  “I don’t know what the fuck is going on. Do I have to pay for a clue? Spin the wheel? What?” Conn hadn’t meant to sound pissed off, but he did not like situations where he was the only one without a game plan. Not knowing what was going on had led to some serious shit in his past. That was not going to happen again. Not for John, not for anybody.

  John walked over to a window to look out at the ocean. Unfortunately he ended up staring at Mary Ann Shipley. He turned back to Conn. “I bought it. For you.”

  Conn could only blink at him for a minute. It took him that long to comprehend what John had just said. “You just woke up this morning and decided to buy me a beach house?” John nodded. “God damn it,” Conn muttered, ramming his hand into his hair and yanking it painfully when he got caught in a tangle. He hadn’t even had time to comb his hair. “How much?”