by BA Tortuga
“I was thinking spinach and strawberries.”
“Nice.” Dakota winked. “Toasted pecans?”
“Bring it on. I have some in the cabinet.” He found Dakota was pretty easy as long as he didn’t suggest Sloppy Joes, even as a joke. There was some food trauma there.
Dakota was a champ at chopping. A fucking champ.
“Did you work in the kitchens in Huntsville?”
“Only at the very beginning. Mostly I was in the laundry.”
“Oh, I think you mentioned that.” Sage had seemed to think that was significant, but Jayden really had no idea what it meant. “You have great knife skills, is all.”
“I learn fast. No one wants to work the laundry, so I stayed there a lot.”
“All the heat and chemicals, huh?” That sounded like hell on earth. It really did.
“Yeah. That’s where people die—it’s got some privacy, and it’s dangerous.”
“Oh.” Oh God. Poor Dakota. “You did it, though. You’re here.”
“Yep.” Just like that. Yep. Jayden hadn’t ever been in a situation where he couldn’t rent a hotel room if the air-conditioning went out, for fuck’s sake.
Jayden rose, grabbing Dakota’s hand and just holding on. Sometimes he had no idea what to say, so he said nothing, letting the situation reset itself. It seemed to work for Dakota too. God knew, that man was the most reserved human he’d ever met.
“Did you learn to cook from your mom?” Dakota finally asked.
“God, no. She can cook, sure, but she much preferred to hire it done. Pop taught me to grill and smoke.”
“Cool.” Dakota chopped the strawberries into careful slices, then took the stems from the more woody of the baby spinach.
Jayden pulled out chicken and mushrooms. He’d make a quick pan sauce with some wine and capers. That would go great with crusty bread and garlic butter. Uhn.
“Just tell me what you want me to do next.”
“The pecans, I think. I have garlic butter to put on the bread, then it can go in the oven.” He popped a grill pan on the burners, then turned on the oven. “This will be like a quick piccata.”
Dakota nodded and chopped the nuts quickly before putting them in a little bowl and setting them next to the stove. Jayden added a little oil to the pan, setting it to warm, and quickly cleaned the chicken breasts up. They worked well together, neither demanding all the space.
Dakota started washing dishes as soon as Jayden ran out of jobs for him to do, working fast and efficient.
“Have you seen Sage this week?”
Dakota nodded. “I work for him every night except this one.”
“Yeah?” Had he known that? “At the stable?”
“Yep. I water and feed, and I’m working with Montana a lot. Rescue horses, you know?”
“I do. How’s she doing?” That Jayden did recall. Montana was as skittish as they came, and Dakota seemed to be doing wonders for the mare.
“Good. Good. I got her to walk on a lead without trying to kill me. I take that as a win.”
“That’s a heck of a lot of progress. Not too long ago she wouldn’t let you in her stall.” Pride filled Jayden’s chest. Dakota had no idea how brave he was.
“Yeah. It’s working. I like it. Sage says he might bring in a couple three more, if I keep putting in the hours.”
“So what do you do with them once they’re trained?” There had to be some kind of income coming, or Sage wouldn’t be able to afford the feed.
“They go to good homes, some of them. Some go to dude ranches. The rescues pay for the vet bills, and there’s a stipend, but the big piece is when the good ones can do something worthwhile—cutting or roping, trail rides. Hell, some might be therapy horses. I don’t really worry about that part. Not yet.”
“I guess not. Have to get them trusting and gentle first, right?”
“I just want them to feel safe and healthy, I think, more than anything.”
“Sure. I think you’re good at that.” Jayden grinned, because Dakota had changed him, for sure.
“Yeah, yeah. I mean, I like it. The horses, the work. I mean, I like all of it, but especially the horses. No one that knew me before would believe this.”
“You mean that you like to be outside, you like animals? I can see it being a surprise to them since you were mostly books and computers.”
“Yeah. Yeah, exactly. I wasn’t outdoorsy then. Now I am.”
“You’re a hot little stud, honey.” He patted Dakota’s hip as the man went by.
“I’m trying to be happy. It’s going to take a while, but I think… I think I’m figuring shit out.”
“Good deal. I’m selfish enough to hope I’m part of the deal.” He got mushrooms and butter going, then a few shallots.
“Do you think you want to be?”
“I do.” He might as well be open about it. “I like you a lot. I enjoy your company, I love your laugh, and I want to get closer to you physically when you’re ready.”
“I think it might be you that needs to get ready, more than me.” Dakota didn’t quite meet his eyes, and Jayden didn’t know what to say.
“I’m not sure what you mean, Dakota.” Scars? Physical problems? Mental ones?
“Well, I was the laundry whore. Plain as that. I’ve been fucked, I’ve sucked, taken whatever up the ass it amused somebody to give me. I don’t imagine that’s all that desirable, when it comes down to it.”
Dakota looked right at him, straight in the eyes, and Christ, it was hard to hold the dark gaze, but he’d be damned as a coward if he looked away.
“I’m not proud of it. I wanted to live more than I wanted to fight. They would have killed me, and I decided being fucked was better than bleeding out on the laundry floor.”
“It was better.” Jayden spread his hands. “I can’t honestly say I know how you feel. I can say that we just have to take it a day at a time. The man I see now is desirable, Dakota.” That was true, and it also allowed him to skirt the idea of all the men who had hurt Dakota in prison.
“No. No, you’re one of the good things in life, Jayden. I wouldn’t want you to know. I don’t even want you to have to imagine, but I’m not going to lie.” Dakota offered him a half smile, the lips just quirking up. “Rescue the mushrooms.”
“Shit!” He turned the veg before tossing the chicken on the pan. “I don’t want you to have to lie, but I also don’t want to feel like I’m walking on eggshells, so sometimes you might have to tell me to shut up.”
“That’s fair. Lots of times I don’t know what to say.”
“Oh, we can come up with something. Albatross, maybe. Or emu oil. Some signal.”
Dakota tilted his head, looked at him for a second. “Emu oil, huh? Is that like a sex thing?”
Jayden cackled. “Only if you want every dog for a mile sniffing your ass. My dad picked some up at a trade show. Was supposed to be for sore muscles. The dogs went crazy.”
“How about I just say I don’t want to talk about whatever, and we don’t? Seems way easier to remember. I do remember the albatross thing. Opus, right?”
“I was thinking Monty Python. Does that mean I’m a bigger geek than you?”
“I’m pretty sure, yeah, but I won’t tell.” Dakota took a deep breath and rested one hand on Jayden’s hip as he leaned to look at the food. “It smells great.”
“It does, huh? Wait for the capers and the wine. It’s okay to cook with the wine, right?” He knew it was legally, but he wanted to make sure Dakota was cool with it.
“Yes. I can have wine that’s been cooked out.” Dakota stepped away, and Jayden missed the pressure against him. “Is it all right to pour a Coke?”
“Anything you want, honey. The fridge is stocked. Can you grab me the butter? The dish was almost empty, and I didn’t realize.”
“Sure. Would you like more… is it Sprite in your glass?”
God, it felt good. Did the conversation about Dakota being forced into sexual slavery give him
a happy? No. No, but he loved that Dakota was able to say what he needed to say and then continue on. Hell, Jayden was happy that he could handle this without melting down into a pile of hysterical goo.
He’d been a prosecutor, though, and whatever Dakota had to tell him, the fact was, he’d seen and heard worse. Now, it made him angry that Dakota had to go through all that. What gave him utter rage was that Dakota hadn’t done the crime that landed him there….
When Dakota touched the small of his back, Jayden jumped a mile. “You’re scowling,” Dakota murmured.
“I was thinking about bad things. Not that you did, though, so I’ll have an attitude adjustment.” He threw more butter on the pan to make a quick sauce with capers and wine and herbs.
“Well, there’s been enough bad, and we’re alone in your house having supper like grown-up adult types.”
“We are. Do you like music, Dakota?”
“Are you going to laugh at me if I say that Sage has been teaching me how to two-step? I like Luke Bryan and George Strait. I used to be really into Matchbox 20 and Green Day too.”
“No shit? I love Green Day. And my mom made sure I could two-step, schottische, waltz, and Cotton-Eyed Joe. She said my father could never teach me or I would learn the polka no matter what dance I was supposed to be learning.”
Dakota chortled, and Jayden turned the heat down under the chicken before he grabbed the remote and turned on the Bose, clicking until he found something you could dance to.
“Wanna?”
“Here? In the kitchen?”
“Yeah.” Here. In the kitchen.
“I’m not very good yet.” Dakota came right to him, though, and put one hand on his waist.
“Well, I can lead. All you have to do is close your eyes and let your body listen to mine.” He gave it a few beats, swaying, before he started slow, shuffling a little.
They were awkward, stepping on each other, bumping around like water buffalo playing polo, but after a song, it got easier, and after two songs, Dakota was humming along and resting against him, and it felt right.
The music changed, slowing down, and he dragged Dakota a little closer, humming along with the waltz playing. He was better at that than the cha-cha beat so many two-steps called for. Jayden rested his cheek against Dakota’s hair, twirling them in a circle.
He swore he could hear their hearts beating together, slow and steady. He wanted it to last forever. He wanted this to be forever. It couldn’t, because the chicken would burn and eventually he’d have to pee, but it didn’t stop the wanting.
He flipped the switch on the stove as they went by, because no one wanted dried-out piccata, and he took another turn with Dakota, laughing when they bounced off the fridge.
“Is it always like this, Jayden? Dating?”
“No. I mean, sometimes it’s amazing, and sometimes it fizzles. This is special.” That was why he was so excited and why he was so damned nervous sometimes. He wanted to get it right.
“Yeah?” Dakota smiled, cheek moving against his. “That’s good. It feels special to me too, so I’m on the right track with you.”
“Good.” He swung Dakota, then kinda dipped him without dropping him, which made him so tickled. “I want to kiss you now. Is that okay?”
“That is possibly the most okay thing ever.”
Oh, listen to that. He tugged Dakota back upright, then took that kiss he wanted, rubbing his lips back and forth across Dakota’s and looking at the longest, blackest eyelashes he’d ever seen casting shadows on tanned skin.
No man should have eyelashes that amazing. It wasn’t fair. He changed the angle of the kiss, letting his tongue slide along the seam of Dakota’s mouth.
“Love this. Kissing you. It’s…. You know, huh?” Dakota looked at him, stared into him, and yes. God yes. He knew.
Jayden hugged Dakota tight. “I do know. After dinner we can make out until neither of us can see.”
“Works for me.” God, that smile rocked his world, made him feel nineteen again and ready to believe in everything. Not just believe, but fight for it.
“Let’s eat, honey.” He kissed Dakota’s neck, then moved to save the chicken. Salad. Bread. Champagne vinegar dressing and goat cheese from the fridge. Boom.
They sat together at the little table in the kitchen, and Jayden watched their reflection in the french doors. A couple—not a couple of friends, but a couple, dammit—sharing an intimate, romantic meal. Together.
“Life is so weird,” Dakota said suddenly, chuckling. “I mean, I could never imagine this. Not in a million years.”
“I couldn’t have either. Oh, don’t look at me like that. I can count on one hand the times anyone but my family has come to my house, and it’s usually Patrick coming to grab a brief.”
“That’s sad, Jayden, because you… you’re special. Golden.”
“Gilded, maybe.” Underneath, he was just like Dakota and Sage and Win. A guy who wanted to be loved and liked. A guy who wanted to have the easy friendships that everyone else seemed to make so quickly.
“Yeah, no. I don’t buy it. You’re better than a tin man, huh?”
“I try. I don’t feel so alone now.” God, he was getting maudlin. That seemed ridiculous, so Jayden munched more salad. Roughage would help later when he inhaled two cinnamon rolls.
“It’s weird, huh?”
“What’s that?”
“How no matter where you are—jail or a courthouse or a big fancy house or a barn—we all like to believe that we’re the only ones who feel separate from everyone else.”
Sometimes—more often than that, even—Dakota surprised the hell out of him. For a man who never got to live, he understood life. Maybe he understood people, and that could be one of those inherent talents.
“How’s Sage?” The barn comment caught his attention. “Has Win been home more?”
“I’ve seen him a few times. I know Sage is happier, and he’s coming camping. He’s not in the barns much, and I run down, work a couple hours, and then head home. It’s a hefty drive.”
“I guess the toll road is out of the way.” Jayden sure liked how it made things easier from up north to the airport.
“I’m going at odd times. Mostly 35 is decent enough, and the one time the weather was real bad, Sage put me in the guest room.”
“It’s comfy.” He grinned, thinking about that night with the storm.
“It is. I like knowing you’ve slept there.”
“Do you?” His cheeks heated until they ached a little, his breath hitching in his chest. This seemed like a poor time to offer to show Dakota his bedroom, huh?
“I do.” God, the way Dakota looked at him made him want to be a better man than he was. Jayden figured he’d already started working on it. Day by day.
“Let’s rinse off the dishes, and we can go sit. I have a huge list of movies to catch up on, and some geeky TV shows too.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Dakota stood up and gathered the dishes, leaning as he did to kiss Jayden’s cheek. “Thank you for supper.”
“Hey, you make an amazing salad.” He had high hopes for cuddling. High. Hopes.
“I do. I’m a stud. Someone said so.”
“He did. Smart guy.” Dishes took longer without Sage’s dog to clean them up, but they rinsed and stacked in the dishwasher and headed to the couch.
Once again, Dakota snuggled in against him as if he belonged there, and he let himself lean and forget that Dakota would be getting in his truck and heading home later.
One day, maybe, it wouldn’t have to end like that.
Chapter Sixteen
DAKOTA WAS a million miles away when the first punch landed to his kidneys and sent him to his knees. He was thinking on Friday afternoon and the promise of cooking on the grill and spending a couple of hours alone with Jayden in his truck, on the lake and swimming and playing cards in the dark.
By the time the next volley of blows landed, he was right there, arms up to defend his face, stomach c
lenched to protect his organs as best he could.
It was daytime, and the boss was only going to be gone for an hour—plenty of time to kill him, but not enough to kill him and get rid of the body, so this was about pain. Hurt him and make him leave.
Dakota gritted his teeth against the pain that tore up his right arm when someone tried to wrench it away from his body. No, he wasn’t gonna scream, and he was stronger than he looked. Fuck them.
“Violador,” Jaime spat at him, and he shook his head.
“Am not. I didn’t do it.”
And they could fucking kill him. He was innocent. No one would ever make him say he’d done it, ever again. A steel-toed boot landed against his ribs, sending him a foot into the air.
No matter what, these assholes were nothing compared to what he’d survived inside. Fuck them.
He heard a truck door slam, then the boss shouting. “What the fuck! What are you doing?”
The crew scattered like cockroaches at a party, and Dakota had to wonder how much McCarthy had to pay them to lose the job here with Jim. Jim was damn fair and paid on time.
The boss knelt down next to him. “Don’t try to move yet, kid. Just tell me where it hurts.”
“I’m okay, boss.” He spit some blood out so he wouldn’t swallow it. “Think we lost the plumb line, though.”
He did a quick mental check—couple of broke ribs, was gonna piss blood for a few days, and he was fairly sure that was a chunk of tooth on the ground, but he’d taken worse.
“Bullshit. You’re bleeding all over the damned place. Let me call EMS.”
“No, sir. I’m good. I cain’t afford the hospital, and this job’s damn near done.” He needed this job. He thought he’d be able to run a crew of his own in a couple years, get his own jobs.
Jim helped him sit up, then hoisted him to his feet. “Okay, son. But you take this and go to the Ready Clinic after.” Jim pressed a hundred into his hands. “No arguing.”
“Yessir.” He could use the money. “You grab the other end of the chalk line?”
All he had to do was make it through to noon tomorrow without dying and he was golden.
Of course, when he went to lift the fence posts up to set the first one with Jim’s help, he was fairly sure he’d just pass out and it wouldn’t matter. He held on, gritted his teeth, and did his motherfucking job.
