Making Peace

by Sasha Goldie

  "Excuse me?" I gave him a bewildered look. "What are you talking about?"

  "Son, you've been gone a long time. Carson is one of the most upstanding members of this community. He volunteers, gives back, created a home-like atmosphere out of a damn bar, of all things. Hell, people take their kids there!"

  "So you approve?" I asked with a chuckle.

  "Highly." He grabbed the remote and turned his movie back on. Of course, it was a western.

  I guessed that was that, then. If Dad approved, who was I to argue?

  23

  Carson

  I pulled into my driveway and opened the garage, looking around for Max's car, thinking maybe he'd had to run an errand and parked in the garage when he got back.

  But it wasn't in the garage either. Damn. He was gone. At three in the morning, he was unlikely out for a quick trip to the store, especially not in Three Lakes. The only thing open now that the brewery was closed was the gas station.

  When I entered the kitchen, Droo was dancing at the back door. I let him out immediately, then turned on the light. A folded piece of paper lay on the island.

  Carson -

  I have to figure myself out. I care deeply about you and this is NOT me breaking anything off. I just need to take a couple of days to sort out my priorities without the influence of a new relationship hanging over me.

  - Max

  Disappointment washed through me. I thought I'd broken through to him. He didn't have to face everything alone. He didn't have to take on the world alone. That ex-boyfriend of his really did a fucking number on him. I wadded up the note and launched it into the trash angrily. "Damn it," I yelled.

  Droo barked a reply from the back yard. He wanted back in since he'd done his business. "Good boy," I said sullenly as I let him back in. "Why'd you let Max leave, huh?"

  He looked at me almost reproachfully, as if to say it was all my fault, not his. "Yeah, I know. I gotta figure out how to reach him."

  No bright ideas came to mind, so I went to bed, frustrated.

  The next day, my rotten mood carried over to Droo. He wouldn't talk to me all day. Finally, I left for work after giving him a kiss and arranging for the neighbor kid to come let him out right before dark.

  Max was waiting in the parking lot for me to unlock the building. "Hey," he said softly. "How are you?"

  "I'm good," I said, still feeling grumpy. "But how are you?"

  He smiled, and his face looked more relaxed than I'd seen it in a while. "Pretty good. I was hoping we could talk later."

  My bad mood lifted a little, the ray of sunshine called hope breaking through. "I'd like that. Stay after close to talk to me?"

  He nodded and I opened the door. "Did I have you on the lunch shift?" I asked.

  "I traded with Pearl. She called this morning, had to go to a last-minute thing at the school."

  "Don't take this the wrong way, but can you handle a double?" I nodded at his leg. "Doesn't it get sore?"

  "I guess we'll find out," he said with a chuckle as more servers and the kitchen staff started pouring through the door. Everyone got busy, ready for a lunch crowd that never seemed to slow down. I'd been paying attention to see what days would be our slowest and they were all busy. I'd been debating opening for lunch on Sundays. If we took on any more, though, I'd have to hire someone to split the managing responsibilities with Corey. I wanted us to all be able to have an actual life and not be married to the bar, and the profits were there to support one more manager.

  The afternoon faded into night, and I spent a significant portion of the evening in the office, running payroll. If I'd been on the floor from lunch until close I would've been falling over, exhausted by the time we closed.

  A couple of hours before close, I emerged to help with the closing duties. Max had given away his tables toward the end of the night and was working the bar again, as he had for Pearl's lunch shift. I started cleaning and organizing the tables that were done and wouldn't be likely to be filled again this late.

  Finally, the last customers left, the last of the staff left, and Max and I were alone as I mopped and he finished the bar dishes.

  "Done," I said with satisfaction, the feeling of completing another successful day in my bar hitting me. It always felt good to shut the door on the last customer and know my business had another good day.

  I walked the mop bucket into the utility room and dumped it before rinsing and hanging the mop. When I emerged, I found Max lying across the pool table with one arm over his eyes.

  "Tired?" I asked, walking closer. I wanted to roll him over and rub his back and legs, legs that were almost certainly aching.

  "Exhausted."

  "Did you at least do well in tips?" I asked.

  "I did. I keep reminding myself of that as I try to ignore the damn leg ache where there is no damn leg."

  "Oh, Max, I'm sorry."

  He looked at me and smiled. "Hey, I'm glad to have a job. Sore legs are better than restless ones."

  Fucking hell, I loved him. I almost said it out loud but didn't want to push him or freak him out any more than he already was, so I kept my mouth shut. "I want to take you out on a date."

  His eyebrows raised. "When?"

  "Tomorrow. A real date. To the diner, or here. Have dinner and sit down and properly get to know one another." I put my hand on his thigh. "I want to pick you up and pull your chair out."

  He sat up and listened to me with interest.

  "Does it have to be here?" he asked. "I mean, we could just go back to your place and eat and play with Droo. And... you know. Do stuff."

  "It's not just about doing stuff, though, you know? It's about connecting. About romance. I want to romance you."

  He grabbed my button-down shirt and pulled me close, pressing a kiss to my lips. "It's not just about that, but doing stuff is fun, right?"

  "Do you not want to do a real date?" I was beginning to get seriously pissed.

  "Sure, I do. But maybe we could go to a movie?"

  "So, you want to go on a date, but only if it's out of town," I said flatly.

  He shrugged and didn't reply. "Or we could just do stuff."

  "Fine," I said. "Let's do stuff."

  Angry, I stepped back and unbuttoned my shirt, watching his face. I set my jaw and kept going, even though I felt like he'd rejected me harshly. Did he only want me to scratch an itch?

  Once my shirt was off, I unbuckled my belt, unbuttoned my pants, and let them fall, my hard dick bouncing out of my underwear. "Is this what you want?" I asked him, fairly pissed off.

  His eyes gleamed as he looked at me. "It is."

  Turning carefully so I didn't trip over my pants hanging on my shoes, I hopped up beside him on the pool table. "Then suck it."

  His breathing noticeably quickened and he scooted close, bending over me as I leaned back on my hands.

  Before taking me in his mouth, he stroked me a few times, and I nearly came undone just at his touch. He knew exactly how to move my cock to make it feel the absolute best.

  His hot mouth closed over my head, and I moaned, but I couldn't stop thinking about him only wanting me for my dick—or my ass—and not for the relationship I could give him.

  My heart battled with my hormones as Max worked my cock, the part of me that loved pleasure eager for him to continue, but my heart beat too loudly in my ears. As I opened my mouth to tell him to stop so we could talk, he lightly raked his teeth up my shaft and I jerked, moaning in pure physical bliss as my heart screamed at me to stop Max before I did irrevocable damage to our delicate relationship.

  My anger told me to push his head down and make him take me deeper into his throat.

  I kept my hands firmly on the felt of the pool table as I warred with myself. "Why do you do this to me?" I asked through clenched teeth. Max added his hand to the mix, massaging that place behind my balls that made me crazy. He knew it, too, because it was also a trigger spot for him.

  "Do what?" he asked, coming up for air
and stroking me while his mouth wasn't on me. "Exactly what you told me to?"

  "Damn it, Max! I don't just want sex from you. I don't want you to suck my cock because you're avoiding going on a real date with me." Snatching my dick out of his grasp—gingerly—I stood and yanked my pants up, stuffing my still-hard dick back in. "I want you, Max. All of you." Throwing my hands out wide to prove my point, I realized I was yelling, but fuck. He needed to hear it. "The good and the bad. From the strength to the vulnerability, from the missing leg to the amazing upper body strength. Your humor, your protectiveness. I—want—you."

  "Why can't you understand that I need to work on myself?" he asked quietly.

  "Why can't you understand that there is no reason you can't work on yourself beside me?" I shot right back at him. "I can help."

  "You shouldn't have to take on my drama." His tortured face broke my heart, and all the yell I had in me evaporated.

  Easing back down onto the pool table beside him, I faced him and took his hand. "Max," I said seriously. "Look at me."

  He closed his eyes and did some sort of internal battle, then turned and mirrored my pose. We both had one knee bent up on the table and the other hanging off. "Maxwell Watson, you infuriating man." I stared deeply into his eyes, hoping he'd actually listen. "I want your drama. Your drama is important to me. The way you react to the drama in your life, just what little I've seen, proves to me that you deserve to be the man I've trusted my heart with. And I want yours. I want your heart. Hear me. I want your drama."

  His eyes filled with tears. "Why does it seem so important to me that I get myself in order before I commit? Is that not a rational feeling?"

  Oh, no. I was giving him the wrong idea. "It is. It's rational. Definitely." My shoulders slumped. "I want you, I want to help you. If it's that important that you feel you need to go at it alone, I'll back off. But Max, look at yourself. You are in order. You're on a search for a new career, but you're working. You're volunteering. You're making friends, right?"

  He nodded. "I am, yeah, I guess."

  "Okay, so how are you not in order, besides not being settled on a career?"

  "Actually," he said with a smile. "I'm pretty settled."

  My eyebrows raised. He hadn't told me that part yet. "What do you mean?"

  "I applied to be an apprentice service dog trainer. I'm just waiting to hear back if I'll be asked to continue the application process."

  I reached forward and yanked him into a hug. "I'm so proud of you. You are the strongest person I know, and that's saying a lot with what I know about Corey." He chuckled against my neck, where he'd buried his face. Scooting forward, I climbed halfway into his lap.

  Cupping his face with my hands, I moved us farther apart, needing to see his face when I said the next part.

  "Max, I love you."

  His face softened, and he leaned forward, pressing his lips to mine as I moved my hands lovingly along his cheeks. "I love you," I whispered between kisses. "However you need me to support you and be here for you, I'm here."

  Max pressed his forehead against mine and breathed deep. "Carson, I have deep, intense feelings for you, but I need more time to process them."

  "Time spent with me?"

  "I think so, yes."

  "That's all I want," I said hungrily, capturing his mouth again and moving my hands away from his face. My chest was exposed, it was high time his was as well. I tugged on the hem of his shirt and he helped me pull it and his undershirt off quickly. Pushing him back onto his elbows, I leaned over him, kissing the hard muscles of his stomach. "You're gorgeous," I whispered against his stomach. He clenched, hardening himself more. "So strong." I licked the outline of his six-pack, tracing his cut stomach slowly and sensually with my tongue as I unbuttoned his pants and worked my way down.

  "So inspiring," I said as I pulled his dick out of his pants and gave him a taste of what he'd given me a few minutes before.

  This time there was no anger, just lust, love, and respect. I took him deep into my mouth, stroking and sucking quickly, desperation for him making me move faster and a little harder than I might normally. Even though I was nearly beside myself with desire, I was careful how I touched his body and how I kept myself off of him. It was not the time to test his issues with being held down. I would give him pleasure with my mouth, then offer him my body.

  "Carson, I need you."

  Max's words hit my heart, and I sat up and removed my shoes. "I'll be right back," I promised, kicking off my pants and underwear and walking quickly through the restaurant toward the kitchen. Opening one of the cabinets in the back, I grabbed a tub and returned to Max. "We are breaking about a dozen health code violations," I told him as I set the tub beside him. "This makes an excellent lube."

  He read the label. "Coconut oil?" he asked with a laugh. "Are you sure?"

  "Trust me. I read about it scrolling through social media one day. The article popped up and I did a little research. Midwives use it during labor and childbirth to help keep the mother from tearing." He winced. "Sorry, not what we should talk about right now," I said with a laugh. Opening the tub, I scooped some out and rubbed it on my palms. "It's also used as a lotion, so no worries."

  Stroking his cock with the homemade lube, I scooped some into his hand so he could return the gesture. When we were both slick and beginning to breathe hard again, I stepped back so he could stand. I hopped up on the pool table and scooted my butt as close to the edge as I could.

  He put one arm under one of my legs, and I rested it on his shoulder as he spread more of the oil onto my ass, massaging me and teasing me as he did. Moaning, I rested back on my arms and threw my head back. He pushed his cock into my entrance, the lube perfect for helping him thrust into me. My moans grew more frantic.

  "Touch yourself," he commanded as he sank completely into me.

  Resting on one elbow, I used my right hand, still slick with the oil, to grab my cock, stroking up and down its length as I watched his dick disappear inside me, moving in and out. The small noises Max made, breathing harder, grunting when he pushed all the way in, and his hands on my hips, squeezing his pleasure, all spurred me to stroke myself faster.

  "Fuck me, Max." I wanted him to finish with me, or maybe just a moment before. He picked up his pace as I did, pushing harder and harder into me.

  Feeling his strokes change, I knew he was getting closer to his completion. I slowed my hand down slightly. When he finished inside me, I wanted to fuck his mouth and was too close to coming. I wouldn't make it at this pace.

  By the time Max finished, his nostrils flaring and eyes screwed shut, I was barely moving my hand on myself. Once he opened his eyes and looked down at me smiling, I began stroking again. "Finish me?" I asked.

  "Of course," he said, pulling out of me slowly. I clenched myself together and he handed me his undershirt to hold between my legs. We'd have to wipe down the pool table for sure, but I didn't want to accidentally drip anything anywhere. Standing with Max's shirt clenched between my butt cheeks, I looked down at the top of his head after he dropped down and took me readily into his mouth. Backing up to lean against the pool table, I watched him bob back and forth on my dick, continuing what he'd been doing to start our bout of fucking.

  "Use your teeth," I whispered, stroking the side of his head as he moved.

  He did, and that was my undoing. Grabbing his head, I stilled him and pumped slowly into his mouth as I came, louder than him by far, groaning as my cum squirted down his throat.

  I pulled him to his feet as soon as I finished, slipping my arms under his and hugging him. As he rested his chin on my head, he squeezed me close. "I love you, too, Carson," he whispered.

  My heart exploded in my chest as I clutched the man I loved, his words running through me like a balm to my soul.

  24

  Max

  "Spend the night with me?" I asked him.

  He pulled back, still holding my shirt between my legs, and nodded. "Sounds good. Let me cle
an up."

  I watched him walk away, waddling to the bathroom, and burst out laughing. "The pool table sex was fucking hot," I called. "But this is great. Watching you waddle across the restaurant is an image I'll never forget." I just laughed harder as his only response was to flip me off. "Classy," I yelled.

  Dressing while he cleaned up, I grabbed his clothes and walked over to the bathroom door. "Can I come in?" I asked through the door.

  "Yep."

  He stood at the sink washing his hands. Studying his body, I smiled and handed over his clothes when he dried his hands.

  "What?" he asked, looking at me in the mirror. "Do I have a bump on my butt or something?"

  "No, ha. No, I just was thinking how nice it feels to admit that I love you."

  His face lit up. I'd been thinking about how imperfect his body was—and how much I liked it. He had a slight pooch in his lower stomach and didn't have a six-pack. His arms weren't flabby or anything, and he definitely had muscles and strength, but he didn't have the definition of my arms.

  I loved it. He was strong but soft at the same time. If he told me he wanted to start working out, I'd go with him all the way, but I couldn't say I'd want him to make moves to define himself more. Was this love? Liking him exactly the way he was? I guessed so, and it made me happy to know that about myself.

  "Ready?" I asked.

  "Yup." He locked up and we walked hand-in-hand to the parking lot.

  As I opened his truck door, a voice caused both of us to freeze in our tracks. "Hands up."

  I looked at Carson, shocked. Both of us faced his truck and had no idea anyone had come up behind us. "I know you've got the money from the day’s business on you." The man's rough voice was husky and low. "Hand it over."

  "I don't." Carson's voice was shrill and a few octaves higher than normal. He was scared.

  I was pissed.

  "Don't lie to me," the man yelled. I'd had my head turned slightly toward Carson when I froze, so when the robber moved closer, I still couldn't see him, but I saw the butt of his gun near Carson's head.