DUMPED

by Lucy Hawkins

  Fair point. “Well, ask around. Maybe Rhiannon knows of something I don’t.”

  That was highly likely. Hank mostly kept to himself, spending all of his free time working on the inn or with Alex. It probably wouldn’t hurt to take Alex out on another nice date. Maybe head to Albany, if they did actually have a theatre. Alex would like that.

  “Yeah, I’ll ask,” Alex said, although judging by his tone, he didn’t seem too convinced.

  An uneasy knot formed in Hank’s chest, and fear slowly crept through his veins. Alex hadn’t been back eight months and he was already bored with Redwood. How long would it be before he was bored with planning weddings? This wasn’t Manhattan, where he could arrange grand, large scale affairs. The clients who used him all wanted the same thing—small town charm. How long until he got tired of that sameness?

  How long would until he got tired of Hank?

  He tried to push that thought to the side, but it kept popping back up like some kind of demented jack-in-the-box. There had to be some way to get Alex’s mind off everything he had left behind in Manhattan. Some way to make him realize what he had here in Redwood. Here with Hank. He rolled onto his side and stretched his hand out toward Alex.

  “Well, until you find something more intellectually stimulating, I guess you’ll have to settle for a different kind of stimulation.” Hank raked his eyes up and down Alex’s body, a not-too-subtle invitation.

  Alex raised an eyebrow then deliberately hooked a thumb beneath his towel, letting it fall to the ground. “I guess you will.”

  He’d seen Alex naked a number of times since their first drunken fumbling the night of Hazel’s wedding, but Alex’s beauty never failed to take him aback. How the hell had he gotten so lucky? Alex’s cock was still soft, nestled in his dark pubic hair, but it was starting to take notice, slowly filling out and hardening as Alex walked to the bed.

  Hank pulled him down gently, rolling so Alex was underneath him and Hank could stare down at him, drinking him in. His pale skin was dotted with a number of freckles, clustered together like constellations. Hank lowered his head and pressed a kiss to the first group by Alex’s collar bone, his tongue darting out to connect the dots. Alex gasped, his arms coming around Hank’s shoulders to hold him close. Fortunately, Hank didn’t have any plans to pull away any time soon.

  He found even more freckles, mapping them with his mouth while Alex hummed contently. Alex was always finding something wrong with his body, starting with his freckles. According to Alex, his stomach was too soft, his eyes too wrinkly, his hair too wild. Hank only saw those as positives. The muscles of his abdomen weren’t defined like Hank’s, but his skin was buttery smooth, and Hank’s hands slid across it with ease. The faint crow’s feet around his eyes came from Alex’s dazzling smile that seemed to light up the entire room. And his hair was the perfect length for Hank to grab onto when they were in bed together. There wasn’t a single thing Hank would change about him.

  Taking his time, Hank kissed and licked down Alex’s entire body. He slid his hands up and down Alex’s sides, touching just because he could. The soft moans and hums turned more desperate, and by the time Hank reached Alex’s cock, they were both hard.

  He pressed a kiss on each of Alex’s hipbones before easing his thighs apart and settling in between them. Leaning down, he nuzzled Alex’s pubic hair, inhaling slowly. Underneath the clean smell of soap was something entirely Alex—musky and sweaty and mouthwatering.

  “Hank,” Alex whispered brokenly above him.

  He knew what Alex wanted, but Hank was going to test his patience. They’d had sex a number of times, but never like this. Never this slow and deliberate. It was high time that changed. Hank wanted to get to know every single part of Alex’s body intimately, to know what it tasted like and smelled like, and what response it drew when Hank touched or tasted it.

  Alex rolled his hips lazily, pushing his hard cock in Hank’s face. Shaking his head, Hank let out a low laugh.

  “I’ll get there. Trust me.”

  But instead of taking Alex inside his mouth, he climbed back up and covered Alex with his own body. Reaching out with one hand, he linked their fingers and wrapped the other hand around both their cocks.

  “Are you bored now?” he asked, his face hovering inches from Alex’s.

  Alex shook his head and leaned up, closing the distance. They kissed slowly, languidly, their tongues twining as Hank stroked them. His fingers tightened in Alex’s, and he brushed his thumb across the back of Alex’s hand. They were tethered together, holding each other so neither one floated away.

  And then Hank moved. He rolled his hips, their cocks sliding together as he did, and Alex gasped into his mouth. His breath came quicker as he fought to keep his pace instead of rutting against Alex like an animal. This was about more than just their mutual pleasure, though. There were so many things Hank couldn’t put into words, so many things he wanted to express.

  If he were a poet, he would have written sonnets dedicated to Alex. If he were a musician, he would have composed a love song. If he were an artist, Alex would be his muse. But he was none of those things. Instead, he was an innkeeper, so he serviced Alex in every way he knew how—touching him, holding him, making him feel revered and treasured. It was the only thing he had to offer.

  Alex arched against him, moving in tandem with his thrusts. Their bodies seemed to fit perfectly together like pieces of a puzzle. He kissed Alex again, pulling Alex’s lower lip between his own. Alex had such full lips. They were practically made to be kissed. Alex had told him once that Grant didn’t really like kissing, and Hank told him Grant was insane. Alex hadn’t understood why he’d gotten so upset about it, but he supposed that made sense. Alex didn’t see himself the way Hank saw him. He wondered how long Alex would stay if he did. If he knew just how attractive he was, would he even hesitate before he went back to Manhattan to greener pastures and men who could give him everything Hank couldn’t?

  His hand tightened in Alex’s and his hips worked faster. They were both leaking, precome, easing his movements as he thrust. Alex’s eyes had shut, and his head was thrown back exposing the pale column of his neck. Hank licked a yellowish mark that was almost healed then bit down gently on it. Alex groaned and shuddered, so Hank sucked harder, laving his tongue over the mark to draw the blood to the surface. It was low enough on Alex’s neck that he could hide it with a collar if he needed to, but Hank would know. Every time he looked at Alex, he would remember what they’d done together.

  He could feel his orgasm building in his balls, and he didn’t bother to fight it. His hand tightened around them, and he stroked purposefully. Alex’s breath stuttered, and he let out a broken gasp, pressing up into the hand. Neither one of them would last long, but he did his best to hold on until Alex had found his release. His toes curled and he gritted his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut. He was close. So fucking close. Alex went tense underneath him, spilling into Hank’s fingers, and Hank stroked faster, milking every last drop from him. Only when Alex collapsed back onto the mattress did he let himself go. He came so hard he saw white, streaks landing on Alex’s abdomen and mixing with Alex’s cum. The sight drew another aftershock out of him, and he let out a ragged gasp.

  A moment later, he eased himself off Alex and reached for the box of tissues. Carefully, he wiped the mess from his fingers and then cleaned Alex’s stomach before dropping the wad of tissues into his trash can. Alex’s chest and stomach heaved as he drew in deep breaths of air. His face was flushed, and his eyes were glazed, the look of a well-fucked man.

  Hank pressed a kiss to Alex’s forehead, and Alex let out a contented sigh, shifting closer. Everything would be fine. No, this wasn’t Manhattan, and he wasn’t some hotshot surgeon who earned more in a year than Hank had made playing for the Jaguars. But he cared about Alex. Loved him, a small voice whispered.

  He loved him.

  The thought didn’t scare him like he thought it would. Sure, he’d always been infat
uated with Alex, but in love? That bit was totally new. And yet, it felt right. Alex had always been a part of him, and if he were being honest with himself, he could see the rest of their life together—the two of them working side by side at the inn, growing old together and retiring to a nice house on the lake. But things had moved too fast in Alex’s last relationship, so Hank would force himself to slow down.

  Alex let out a small snore, one arm flung across Hank’s stomach. So, this was what it was like to be blissfully happy. Now he just needed the other shoe to drop. For something to go wrong in their life and ruin this perfect thing they had together.

  On the table beside him, a phone buzzed, casting a blueish glow throughout the room. Hank looked down at it instinctively and immediately wished he hadn’t. The message came from Grant.

  There were a number of explanations, all of them perfectly logical and totally above board, but the insecurities Hank had just started to tamp down welled inside of him again. If Grant was in contact with him, maybe he wanted Alex back. Given the chance, would he go? He looked down at Alex, who’d managed to cuddle even closer, and stroked his hair.

  I don’t have much to give you, but everything I have is yours. Just stay with me. Stay.

  Twenty-Six

  Alex

  Alex jerked open the top drawer of his nightstand, rifling through the contents. It had to be here somewhere. He’d just had the damn thing. His heart beat a rapid rhythm, feeling too high in his chest, as though it were lodged in his throat. Grabbing the coupon organizer he used for checks, he combed through it, looking for the missing one in question.

  The situation was worse than bad. Bad would have been if he’d lost a check written out to him with the amount written in. But no. He had to go and lose a blank check his latest clients had entrusted him with.

  Really, it was their fault for leaving him with a blank check, but he had yet to come up with an exact figure for how much it would cost to plan their wedding, and they’d been in a hurry—city clients who had to rush back to make lunch meetings and personal appointments. That excuse wouldn’t fly, though. If Alex didn’t find the check within the next twenty-four hours, he was fucked. And definitely not in the good way.

  After several minutes of franticly searching, turning over nearly every piece of furniture in his room, he headed toward Hank’s. An uneasy feeling wormed its way through him, but he pushed it back down. It wouldn’t do to go making accusations just yet, especially when he’d only just realized the check was missing. He spent so much time in Hank’s room that it probably got tucked away in one of his drawers.

  He was halfway through pulling out the contents of Hank’s nightstand when the stairs creaked. He spun around, still on his knees.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Hank asked.

  “Do you never throw anything away?” Alex snapped. “You have receipts in here that I swear to God are from five years ago.”

  Hank’s eyebrows knitted together. “That didn’t answer my question. What are you doing going through my stuff?”

  “I lost a check. A very important check that currently has Schrodinger’s value, since it’s blank.”

  “I don’t think that’s actually how that—”

  “Not the point! The point is it’s missing, and my ass is going to be fucked without lube unless we find it soon. The clients are coming up tomorrow, and if they find out I lost their check, they’ll take their business elsewhere or—or something.”

  He’d almost said they’d be out thousands of dollars. It was a possibility. If someone found the check and wrote in a dollar amount, they could very easily forge his signature and cash it. His pulse pounded in his ears as he stood and continued to rummage through Hank’s top drawer.

  Walking over, Hank took his wrists in one hand. “Stop,” he said firmly. “You’re freaking out and it’s not going to do any good.” He backed Alex over to the bed and forced him to sit down. “Close your eyes and think. Where was the last place you saw the check?”

  “If I knew that, it wouldn’t be lost, now would it?” he growled.

  “Hey, don’t attack me. I’m trying to help you. Focus. Where did you see it last?”

  They’d met in the dining room for breakfast, if you could even call it that. Cynthia had ordered scrambled egg whites, while April hadn’t eaten anything, just drank a coffee. They were lawyers, the both of them, very eager to get back to their important cases in the city. As soon as breakfast finished, he’d shown them a tour of the grounds before taking them back to…

  “The office,” he said. “Your office. But I already checked there. I couldn’t find it.”

  “We’ll look again.”

  It was a pointless task, but Alex wasn’t going to object. Hank was offering to help, and right now, he needed all the help he could get.

  Unlike Hank’s nightstand, the drawers in his office desk were highly organized. Everything was written down in a planner he kept in his top drawer, and copies of checks were stapled to invoices in a filing cabinet. Hank tackled the drawer, while Alex flicked through folders in the cabinet.

  “You’re sure this is the last place you saw it?” Hank asked.

  Rather than dignifying that question with a response, Alex just glared at him.

  “Yep, got it. Well, it’s not in the desk. Anywhere. Have you checked with Rhiannon to see if she might have picked it up?”

  Alex shook his head. “Rhiannon wasn’t working yesterday. She was out cause Eva’s sick.”

  “So, who cleaned the rooms?”

  Oh fuck. “Daniel.”

  Hank stared at him for several seconds as though trying to assess his thoughts. In truth, Alex didn’t even know what he was thinking. He wanted to believe Daniel was reformed, especially after he’d provided so much help with the Stein wedding. But he’d been the only other person with access to the office and their bedrooms.

  “I think,” he started, keeping his voice even, “we should talk to him. Ask him if he’s seen the check.”

  Hank crossed his arms. “You only use that tone when you’re trying to keep yourself from jumping to conclusions.”

  “Well I am trying to keep myself from jumping to conclusions. I’m not going to interrogate him. I just want to know if he’s seen it.”

  After studying him for a moment, Hank nodded. “Fine. But I want to be there when you talk to him.”

  That was only fair, but something about it rubbed Alex wrong. Hank was already taking his brother’s side, and they hadn’t even asked him about it yet. Would he back Alex up if Daniel had taken the check? Or would he make excuses yet again?

  “Okay.” He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from saying something he would regret.

  “I’m going to go get him now.”

  Alex just nodded. He pulled himself into the desk chair and waited, forcing himself to breathe in and out. In and out. Everything was fine. They’d find the check. Daniel might actually prove useful. He might have seen it, after all. A few moments later, Hank came back through the doorway, Daniel at his side.

  “Hey, Hank said you had a question for me,” Daniel said. He sounded so casual. So flippant. As though there weren’t a huge amount of money and his entire career on the line. Again.

  “There’s a check that’s gone missing from the inn. It’s blank, and if picked up by the wrong person, could be really, really bad. Have you um…” Taken it? Stolen it? Filled in the amount and cashed it, transferring the contents to an offshore bank account?

  Daniel shook his head. “Sorry, man. I haven’t seen a thing. I’ll keep my eyes out for it, though. Don’t want a guest or someone finding it.”

  “Right. A guest.” Fuck. He was fucked. “You, um… You were the one who cleaned the office last, right?”

  “Yes,” Daniel said, dragging the word out. He frowned, his posture changing. He crossed his arms and straightened up, almost as though he were on the defensive.

  Now that was odd. Why would he need to be on the defensive if he hadn
’t done anything wrong? Alex looked him dead in the eyes, refusing to back down.

  “Are you sure you haven’t seen it?” he asked. “You might not have known how important it was at the time. Maybe you put it in your wallet for safekeeping?”

  Daniel narrowed his eyes. “Are you serious right now? I said I haven’t seen it.”

  “And we believe you,” Hank said quickly. He glared over at Alex. “Alex is just worried. This is a big deal, and he’s not reacting well. You should see the state of my bedroom.”

  The attempt at levity didn’t work. Daniel pressed his lips together then fished out his wallet. “Here. If you don’t believe me, take a look.”

  He threw it on the desk in front of Alex, who eyed it warily, as though it would bite if he tried to touch it. After a moment, Alex picked it up and looked through it. Debit card, driver’s license, a couple of gift cards, a few random bills, but no check.

  “Do you believe me now?” Daniel asked, a hard edge to his voice.

  No. It wasn’t that Alex didn’t want to. He did. People changed, after all, just like his mom had been so desperate to make him see. But old habits died hard. Daniel had stolen before—cars, scrap metal, three million dollars from his brother… What was one more heist?

  Daniel huffed out a humorless laugh. “Are you fucking kidding me? You can’t find a single shred of evidence I stole your goddamn check, but you still think I took it?”

  “Have you been to the bank recently?” he asked quietly.

  “Stop.” Hank’s voice cut through the room like a whip. “You’ve seen for yourself he doesn’t have the check. I think you should quit now before you say things we’ll both regret.”

  The implication was clear. If he pressed the issue, Hank would take Daniel’s side. He always would. Alex had been stupid to think otherwise. They had so much more history than Alex and Hank shared. He couldn’t deny, though, it hurt that Hank was so quick to turn against him.

  “Daniel, can I have a minute with my boyfriend?” Hank asked stiffly.