Wound Tight (Made in Jersey #4)

by Tessa Bailey

“Which is pretty much bullshit, because that’s part of the reason we bowl.” Duke sniffed. “To figure out romantic—”

  “Puzzles,” Vaughn finished, using his fingers to demonstrate. “It’s like putting together a puzzle. You don’t see the full picture until someone adds the right piece.”

  Renner stared. “Who are you people?”

  Duke and Vaughn threw up their hands.

  “We’re your unsolicited reality check, man,” Vaughn said, slapping the top of the Mercedes. “Milo is a mess. You’re an even worse mess, probably because you’re the one who fucked up—”

  “Couldn’t have been Milo.” Duke shook his head. “I don’t see it having been Milo.”

  “And it has been five days.” Vaughn tapped a finger against his watch. “Take it from someone who knows, the more time you let pass, the worse it’s going to get.”

  Duke made a gruff sound of agreement. Then they both stared at Renner.

  “I’m really grateful Milo has friends like you. I didn’t.” Renner pulled the keys out of the ignition and climbed out of the car. “Or maybe I didn’t try to find them. But either way, I’m…grateful that you would accost me in a parking lot on his behalf. He deserves it.”

  “Do you deserve him?” Vaughn asked.

  That was the million-dollar question, wasn’t it? Renner’s knee-jerk answer was no. Not before he’d fucked up. And not after. But the answer wasn’t so simple. If he wanted a chance with Milo, he had to deserve him. Had to make himself worthy. Because the man he loved would get nothing less than 1,000 percent.

  “I’m going to make sure I can answer yes to that next time you ask me.” Renner had a hard time saying what came next, but he would have done anything to guarantee he fixed the damage he’d done to his relationship with Milo. “And…I may need some help. From you both.”

  “I bet that was tough for you to say,” Duke rumbled through a smile, laying a hand on his shoulder. “If it makes things easier, we’ll agree to help for Milo’s sake.”

  “Yes.” Renner started to brush off Duke’s hand, but gave his brother-in-law an appreciative nod instead. “That would be ideal.”

  …

  Renner was gone. Still gone.

  After Boston, he’d just…left. Probably hadn’t even detoured through Jersey on his way back to Manhattan, or Milo would have heard about it by now.

  People in Hook—mainly his coworkers—were perceptive, and the looks of sympathy he’d been getting throughout the week had been…comforting, actually. He wanted the hurt to be visible, because it made him feel less alone. Made facing the day less daunting. Furthermore, their disappointment as word spread that Renner had jetted off to his next enterprise meant they not only accepted Milo, but they’d been cheering him and Renner on from the sidelines. For how long?

  Had their attraction to each other been obvious before either one of them realized it? Maybe if Milo had recognized the part of himself that responded to Renner sooner, he wouldn’t have fucked up by bringing Travis into the picture. Maybe Renner never would have questioned his dedication and they would be together right now. Milo wouldn’t feel like there was a mile-wide gash across his middle, worrying about Renner. Missing him like a motherfucker. Positive with each passing minute that he’d made a mistake.

  God, the regret was fierce. Walking away from Renner in Boston had seemed like the only option, even though the cards were finally laid out on the table. Now Milo wasn’t sure. It would have been so easy to accept Renner’s apology. To trust he wouldn’t freak out on him again or put him through another test. Milo had known from the beginning that Renner needed someone who refused to be deterred. Someone who would keep coming back no matter what. When it really counted, Milo had turned and walked, instead of assuring Renner he would never burn him like that asshole from his past. Making him believe and trust that they were solid. Unmovable.

  Unable to take another second staring at the dark office above the factory floor, Milo went into the break room, getting a soda from the vending machine. He rolled it across his forehead. This constant feeling that he was drifting, without a place to touch down, was getting worse. Five days without Renner’s sarcasm. Without those hawk eyes on him as he passed through the machinery, doing his rounds. Without that feeling of security that Renner had robbed him of in the end. He needed it back. Needed to give it to Renner in return.

  Vaughn would let him go home early if Milo asked. He should just go home and…sleep? Not likely. He’d logged more hours staring at his bedroom ceiling in the last five days than were healthy. The only thing that helped so far was whiskey, which had backfired by reminding him of Renner, leaving him a god-awful combination of drunk and wired.

  Fuck this. He was going to Manhattan tonight.

  Just making the decision was like a breath of fresh air. Even if he only fought with Renner and solved nothing, it would be better than waiting and wondering if they were over.

  Don’t let this be over. How can it be over when I’m this ill over being without him?

  The break room door opened and a woman walked in, safety goggles perched on top of her head. “What are you doing still in here?” She winked at him. “Haven’t you heard the boss is back?”

  “What?” Milo lunged to his feet, sending his chair crashing into the stainless steel refrigerator. “When?”

  “Just strolled in.”

  “How would I have heard?”

  The woman shrugged. “The walls in this place have ears, don’t they?”

  She launched into a rundown of the latest gossip, but Milo heard none of it. Renner was just going to stroll in after five days of silence? Without any kind of warning? Jesus, maybe heart problems were contagious, because his was racing at an alarming rate. All of a sudden, he wasn’t sad about the last five days, he was pissed about them. Pointless. They’d both been idiots and Renner was about to hear it. Milo didn’t care if the whole damn factory heard.

  Head of steam in full effect, Milo threw open the break room door and charged toward the staircase that would lead to Renner’s office…

  But Milo stopped on a dime—bombs going off in his ears—when his gaze landed on the man himself. Renner stood in his usual spot in the upstairs office, hands clasped behind his back, watching Milo approach from behind the glass. Holy shit, Milo got so dizzy with relief, he almost hit the deck. There he was. Here. Close.

  That was before Milo got closer and saw Renner’s appearance.

  He looked…ravaged. Was he sick? At the very least, the man was exhausted and…yeah, miserable. Milo could see that, and it was like an ice pick entering his heart.

  Milo started jogging, needing to get up the stairs, but the sound of Renner’s voice in surround sound forced him to slow again. He looked up to see Renner had lifted the intercom receiver to his mouth, addressing the entire factory at once. It was only then Milo realized the machinery was humming, but not active. A quick glance told him every worker was front and center, as if they’d been expecting Renner to speak. What was happening?

  “I have an announcement.” Milo’s insides damn near melted at the sound of Renner’s husky tone, even though it was further proof of his exhaustion. He was usually so brisk. “This might come as a shock to all of you, but it came to my attention recently that I don’t know everything.” Laughter spread across the floor. “There was a new client I was attempting to win over…and manufacturing that client’s products would have meant more jobs. Here in Hook. It would have meant even better facilities. Things that are important to you…have become important to me, too.”

  How long could Milo stand there listening to Renner be so honest without exploding? Apparently they would find out, because his feet were glued to the floor, his pulse going crazy.

  “Things that seem right sometimes…aren’t, however,” Renner continued. “Namely, this client. And I never would have found that out on my own. Never. Not without someone giving me a good kick in the ass.” Briefly, Renner’s attention landed on Milo before cut
ting away. “Thanks to this person, I found another way to give this town what it deserves.”

  Renner had to wait for the cheering to die down after that. It was so loud, Milo worried it might break windows, but the workers quieted again when Renner held up a hand.

  “I’ve purchased another site five miles from here. As soon as the working environment has been deemed safe, I’ll be hiring directly out of Hook.” Louder cheering, high-fiving, and in some cases, even tears. Milo could admit to being close to them himself. Renner’s gaze landed hard on him…and everyone seemed to fall silent, although the buzz of energy was incredible. Unable to be suppressed. Nothing, though, compared to the thunderclaps going off in Milo’s chest. One after the other. “I could lie and claim I’ll be staying in Hook to oversee the project, but I’m staying for you, Milo. I’ll stay forever…for you. If you think I work too hard now? Get ready, because I won’t rest until I have you back. Until you know for goddamn sure I’ll never let you go again.”

  Love and a sense of completion pushed in on Milo from all sides. He had no choice but to start laughing or embarrass himself, but the laughter was happy. So happy. He actually had to slap a hand over his eyes because the vision of Renner laying himself bare was too much. So much he worried the organ in his chest might give out from working so much overtime.

  And that was before the music started.

  From the rear of the gathered workers, a burst of loud Latin-flavored music began, turning everyone’s heads, including Milo’s. When he saw Duke holding an outdated boom box and Vaughn giving a thumbs-up, Milo only laughed harder, although he had no idea what was going on. Until a familiar scent found his nose…and he turned to find Renner standing beside him, obviously having left the office and descended the stairs.

  Up close, he appeared even more haggard, but his eyes were alive. Alive as Milo felt.

  “Dance with me?”

  Milo drew in a slow, shaky breath, ready to throw himself into Renner’s arms, but needing a second to compose himself. “You don’t dance.”

  “I do now. I do everything for you.” The crowd closed in around them, not even bothering to be subtle about eavesdropping. “I’ll do anything. Just let me keep you.”

  “I guess I have to,” Milo responded, heart in his throat. “Considering I love you and someone needs to make sure you take care of yourself.”

  Renner didn’t appear to be breathing as he stepped closer, leaving them only an inch apart. “Say that first part again.”

  Milo moved in and pressed their foreheads together. “I love you, Renner.”

  A low, vibrating curse. “I wasn’t even sure you would take me back, now you give me this?” He took Milo’s hand and brought it to his chest, right over his pounding heart. “When am I going to stop underestimating you?”

  “I did the underestimating this time,” Milo said. “What you said…”

  “I meant every word.” One of Renner’s hands slipped through his hair, the other drawing him close. “I’m staying here for you. This is going to be home, because it’s where you are. If I go somewhere, I’m taking you with me. No days or nights apart. Not because I don’t have trust. But because I don’t have the patience for time without Milo. I don’t want to know what that’s like anymore. I need you.”

  To someone else, Renner’s heavy hand might have been too much. Too selfish. But it was finally—finally—exactly what Milo needed to hear. To feel.

  “Never apart,” Milo agreed, happiness sprinting through his blood. “Never again.”

  They both smiled, their mouths lifting right up against each other. Then Renner surprised Milo again by taking him by the hand…and spinning him around.

  They danced.

  And everyone joined them.

  Epilogue

  Six months later

  Damn, Milo was one lovesick puppy.

  Honestly. There was no other way to describe a man who’d dug his boyfriend’s dress shirt out of the laundry basket, buried his face in the familiar smell, and started jerking off to beat the fucking band. Renner had only been gone on the business trip for three days, but since Milo usually went along, the separation had been hard. A lot like his dick, which was in such dire need of Renner, Milo swore he’d heard it crying softly in the middle of the night.

  He would be with Renner in Hong Kong right now if the new factory branch hadn’t required one of them to remain in Hook to oversee some key machinery installations. And while Milo was proud as hell of the new plant, he couldn’t help but resent anything that kept him away from his man. Three nights spent alone in their new house—just down the street from Duke and Samantha—was more than enough. He wanted Renner home yesterday.

  Milo fell onto the bed facedown, lifting his ass and visualizing Renner kneeling behind him. His boyfriend’s gruff commands played in his mind while his fist violated his erection, stroking at warp speed. Pants off. Show me where the hurt is. Open yourself up for me. Tell me, baby, who’s the only one allowed to ride this pretty-boy ass? He opened his mouth against the shirt collar, letting his tongue flick out, trying to catch Renner’s taste as well as smell.

  The whir of the ceiling fan sent cool air down onto his sweating bare back. Onto his straining thighs. His pained face. “Fuck me. Please. You’re the only one.”

  “Damn right I am,” came Renner’s rasping voice from the bedroom doorway. “Have to say, this is one hell of a welcome home.”

  It was ridiculous to feel like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar, especially after six months of living together. Despite the all-encompassing relief and excitement at his boyfriend’s arrival, however, heat crept over Milo’s face, a combination of anticipation and, yeah, blushing. “You weren’t supposed to be home for another two days.”

  “You’re making sweet love to my shirt, baby.” Humor, love, hunger threaded through his tone. “I doubt you’re complaining.”

  Milo flopped over onto his back and used the shirt to hide his swollen dick, using every measure of his willpower to stop beating himself off. Not because he was all that embarrassed, but because he wanted Renner to come closer. Immediately. And hiding any part of himself tended to make that happen pretty damn fast.

  On cue, Renner’s right eyebrow arched. Suitcase forgotten at his feet, precise fingers lifted to unknot his tie. “I just crammed in thirteen meetings back to back and paid through the nose to switch my flight, because I can barely make it through the day without you.” The tie dropped and he began to work the buttons of his shirt, while Milo’s heart pumped wildly in his throat. “When I know you won’t be with me at the end of the day, I forget people’s names and where I’m supposed to be. I stare off into space. My feet won’t move. I’m a mess. A useless, good-for-nothing mess.” The shirt dropped, revealing those incredible shoulders. “I just walked in to find you licking my shirt and talking to me, thinking I’m thousands of miles away. You need me as badly as I need you. You have any clue what that does to me?”

  “I can guess,” Milo responded, hoarse from listening to the speech. At some point during Renner’s words, he’d sat up, the shirt falling away from his lap, forgotten. “I’m fucking glad you’re back, boss man. I’m just bones and blood when you’re not around.”

  The light of affection flickered in Renner’s eyes before his voice cracked like a belt, swift and rife with feeling. Milo felt it across his stomach, down his spine. “Get over here and tell me properly.”

  A rush of starvation made Milo light-headed, his johnson glancing off his thigh as he knelt, walking to the edge of the bed on his knees. Before he reached the end of the mattress, however, Renner surged forward and knocked Milo onto his back, landing on top of him. The groans they loosed into each other’s mouths were those of two wounded beasts trying to find the source of their pain. Just as they both needed, Renner aggressed, grappling with Milo’s wrists and holding them down hard above his head, while Milo helplessly rolled his hips, humping his boyfriend and begging for relief with nonsensical words.


  “I’ll never forget seeing your face buried in my shirt,” Renner grated, reaching down to unfasten his own pants with a wince. “Worth every sleepless night to make it back early, just for that. Hated seeing you miserable, missing me, but goddamn me, I loved it, too.”

  “Slept in one of them, too. It’s on the bathroom floor.” Milo finished the admission on a gasp when Renner bent forward, sinking his teeth into Milo’s pectoral muscle. “Wore your cologne, listened to your old Robert Johnson albums. Another day and I would’ve resorted to eating your shitty health cereal. I love you, all right? Don’t be surprised by me fucking your shirt.”

  “Don’t be surprised by me busting my ass to come home early,” Renner returned, his eyes and voice so full of emotion, Renner couldn’t get an honest breath. “I love you, too.”

  With their mouths and foreheads pressed together, Renner scooped up the bottle of lube still lying on the bed, using it liberally on their lower bodies, sliding his blunt, perfect fingers into every dip and swell. Using it to pump his fist up and down Milo’s cock, until Milo was pushing with desperate grunts into his hand. Renner’s lips locked together with Milo’s, falling into a rough pattern of kissing that grew more aggressive with every tongue stroke, every gruff moan of pleasure.

  Milo had woken up horny as hell, hence the solo session, but by the time Renner took their hard cocks in one hand, jerking them off in the same powerful fist, his goddamn balls were full of such punishing pressure, he didn’t know if he’d make it any longer. “Please, please, please,” Milo near-shouted, head thrown back, neck muscles straining. “Need you. I’m dying.”

  “No, I won’t let you.” Renner breathed heavily. “I was dead when you found me, and you’ll never feel that way. Not as long as I’m full of this life you gave me.” Milo reeled, his chest aching with pure love, but Renner didn’t give him time to revel. Later, he would, but not now. “Lift up, baby. Ankles crossed behind my back. Going to give you three days worth of fucking.” He growled against the seam of Milo’s lips. “You’re going to take it this way, then I’m going to bury your face in my shirt again and do it harder.”