Have Mercy

by Christina Lee

  Caitlin squealed like I knew she would. “So they’ve become family pets?”

  “Obviously, and I’d go out on a limb and guess they have some of the same characteristics as dogs.”

  “Like what?” she asked, sounding completely fascinated.

  “They love rolling in muddy stuff and rooting through the ground for things to eat or chew on.” One time I’d caught Hamlet trying to eat my underwear while I was in the shower, after he’d foraged through my pile of dirty laundry.

  “They sound like my pugs.” Caitlin had two dogs she and her fiancé endlessly doted on.

  “See?” I snickered. “They love to run around the farm, then sleep in the shade with the goats.” I’d also witnessed them getting scolded by George for digging up the flower bed outside the farmhouse. But they seemed pretty intelligent too, because the next day they ran away just as he was approaching.

  “That’s too cute. Does he sleep with you?”

  “Sometimes. But it has to be on his terms.” I’d quickly learned that his way of showing affection was nudging my legs and sometimes licking my bare toes, which was weird. “He does not like to be picked up, nor does Phoebe.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Oh, you can’t miss it. I’d pick him up now, but he’d squeal his head off and disturb everyone.” I shook my head. “So I wait for his cues. If it seems like he wants on the bed, I lift him up.”

  “Sounds awesome,” she replied with a dreamy smile. She’d always had a strong desire to get out of the city. She’d made a compromise with her fiancé that they’d look for a house in Connecticut or Jersey after the wedding and commute by train to work. Plus, there would be more room for their dogs to roam free, and being out here made me appreciate that concept even more.

  Once our conversation ended, I noticed I could smell myself, so I rolled out of bed, intent on a shower. I should’ve done it before dinner, but I just dug right in, starving after a hard day of lifting and moving shit. At least my knee wasn’t protesting too much this week, but soaking it under the hot water stream loosened the tightness and made it feel much better.

  I stripped out of my clothes and headed into the bathroom, closing the door behind me. After soaping up, I perched under the spray for a good long while before feeling guilty for using too much water. So I turned the nozzle off and was reaching for the towel when the door on Kerry’s side swung open. I froze just inside the shower, completely naked, as he padded inside, oblivious to my presence.

  He reached for the front of his pants to unzip, and as he lifted the toilet seat, I made a strangled sound in the back of my throat. He looked up and staggered backward. “Oh shit, sorry. I didn’t hear the shower.”

  His eyes snagged on my chest, and I automatically lifted my hand to cover the scars from all the shrapnel that had pelted me. I could identify each one in the dark with my fingers. Hiding myself wasn’t something I was exactly conscious of, except during hookups, if we ever bothered to fully undress.

  Gooseflesh lined my skin as his gaze scanned down my torso to my cock, which was soft but suddenly trying to rally. He took a big gulp of air and looked into my eyes again. Was that interest I saw reflected? Admiration? It was only a split-second scrutiny, but felt like long moments.

  And then he was backing out the door. “Guess we need a sign-in sheet.”

  I winced. “Or I could’ve remembered to lock your side.”

  “Yeah, we’ll work on that,” he replied awkwardly, not daring to look my way again, and then he was out the door, shutting it soundly behind him.

  I felt rattled the entire time I toweled off, and then walked to my room to pull on some clean underwear. Hamlet seemed to want up on the bed, so I lifted him, and he turned in circles before he settled at the very end, snorting as he did so.

  I edged my way under the covers, then lay there with my dick hard, and damn, who could blame me after that? An attractive man just saw me naked. I heard Kerry reenter the bathroom to use it, the faucet turned on, and then the light clicked off again. My heart thrummed in my chest as I imagined a different version of events. Kerry entering my room, approaching the bed, inching the covers away. Me letting him look his fill. Letting him manhandle me, force me to my knees to take his cock to the back of my throat. I was pretty versatile, taking sex any way I could get it over my years in service. But with him, it just felt like…like maybe he could give me what I needed right then.

  Which was what, exactly? A firm and commanding hand so I didn’t have to think so hard all the damned time? So my thoughts would grant me a reprieve for a while?

  Christ, what had come over me?

  So a hot guy had checked me out and didn’t seem bothered by the scars. Instead, there was appreciation and maybe even desire in his expression. Maybe it’d been a long time since he’d had a chance to appreciate another man’s body. That was all it was, right?

  Then why did the idea of it thrill me to my core? The idea that Kerry, a ruggedly handsome cowboy from Wyoming, had found me attractive? No denying it was mutual.

  But nothing could be done about it.

  I turned over and shut my eyes, deciding to ignore my erection and go the hell to sleep. And you’d think it would’ve been easy, given the day my muscles had with all that hard labor. But sleep wouldn’t come. Instead, I listened to the sounds of the house and wondered if Kerry was having trouble sleeping too.

  Fuck it. I pushed the covers off and reached inside my underwear to grip my cock. The only thing I could think to do was jerk off and get rid of this, whatever this was.

  I shut my eyes and stroked upward, letting my fantasy play out in my head just the way I’d imagined. Kerry taking over, gripping me with that calloused palm, making me come.

  It didn’t take me long to spurt my jizz all over my stomach. If that didn’t help take the edge off, I didn’t know what would. I reached for the towel on the floor, wiped myself off, then fell into a deep slumber. Exactly what I needed.

  8

  Kerry

  I was sitting on a stool next to Butter, staring off into space. I wasn’t sure what to expect this morning, especially after I’d accidentally walked in on Julian in the shower the night before.

  Despite my mortification, I’d had trouble looking away from that solid body that’d been through hard times—his scars were ample proof of that—and that beautifully thick cock as it curled upward toward his thigh. Holy fuck, this line of thinking was wrong, so wrong, and I needed to banish it from my brain.

  Even if Julian and I weren’t related by blood, I could not think this way about Sienna’s cousin. She might never forgive me. It was enough that I’d already messed things up royally between us and our families.

  The truth was, Sienna and I had really been more friends than spouses, and we still hadn’t admitted it to each other. If we’d thought hard enough about it, we hadn’t been intimate since…forever.

  I turned my attention back to Butter, who was patiently waiting for me to get my act together. Maisy would’ve flicked me with her tail by now.

  “Sorry, sweetie.” I patted her soothingly. Getting my head back in the game, I pumped her teats a couple of times, then hooked her up to the milking machine.

  As I moved down the line of cows, I couldn’t keep my thoughts from drifting there again. To last night in the bathroom as I stood near the toilet and Julian lifted his arm as if to shield his chest but not the rest of his impressive physique. It’d felt like there was a moment there between us where our eyes met and held. I could’ve sworn he dared me to look my fill. That he might’ve even enjoyed my attention.

  I was likely way off base. But it went along with other vibes I’d gotten from him since he’d arrived a couple of weeks ago. He’d been showing up religiously every morning to help with the cows. We worked well as a team, and he seemed to enjoy my company. So that was probably all it was—two men who had known each other for years through relatives but were only just becoming friends. Julian knew I was gay—he’d u
ndoubtedly heard the stories about the pain I’d caused—but I would be lying if I didn’t admit I’d noticed some looks from him that I’d brushed off as curiosity. As if he was studying me in more than a friendly kind of way. Like the other morning when he’d pointed out my dimples. He’d blushed, then I’d blushed, and had I been in a bar, sitting beside a guy, I would’ve absolutely guessed he was flirting with me. And then it would be game on, a quickie somewhere to help relieve the brimming tension.

  So what gives? What was Julian’s story? Maybe it was better if I never found out.

  I held my breath as I heard the sound of the barn door sliding open. I hadn’t been sure he’d show up, and that was unsettling to me. Maybe he’d been having misgivings because he was running late. Listen to me, noticing his schedule and making assumptions about where he wanted to spend his time.

  Julian had trouble making eye contact as he approached, Hamlet waddling alongside him. I bit back a snicker. Hamlet must’ve stayed in his room again last night and had obviously grown on Julian. Otherwise, he’d more than likely have put him out or encouraged him to sleep with Phoebe in Ainsley’s room. Though last night it’d been mine, possibly because Phoebe had sensed I was out of sorts, and she was definitely good for a cuddle.

  Phoebe perked up as soon as she spotted her buddy, and they rubbed noses and snorted to each other in greeting.

  “Morning,” I said, trying to break the ice first. Besides, it was me who’d walked in on him as he exited the shower. “I wasn’t sure if you would…” I trailed off, my cheeks heating.

  What was I even saying? That we’d gotten into a routine I looked forward to every morning? I didn’t want him to freak, so I needed to tone it down.

  “Guess I overslept a bit,” he said, but I wasn’t sure I believed him. The way he walked cautiously into the stall, still avoiding eye contact, was a big clue. Damn, I felt like I ruined shit.

  “Well, it is the weekend,” I replied. “Most people actually relax after a long week of work.”

  “Not around here, I see. Too many things need doing.” He glanced over at the cows that had been milked and were now snacking on the leafy greens I brought. “It was the same in the desert. We rarely got any downtime or leave. And if we did, we were careful not to get too shit-faced.”

  “Makes sense.” I sobered a little, considering why that might be a bad idea all around. On the farm it wasn’t life or death, but I still tried not to overindulge.

  Then Julian went silent, but I breathed out a sigh of relief that at least he wasn’t trying to ignore me. Still, he busied himself with other things, possibly in an effort to avoid speaking directly to me.

  “Listen, I apologize again for walking in on you last night,” I said, and his gaze finally rose to mine. “I don’t want to make anything awkward between us. I want you to know that it won’t happen again. I’ll be sure to knock each time before I enter.”

  “Don’t sweat it. You shouldn’t go out of your way,” he said, waving me off. “You forget, I’ve had to shower practically out in the open with a bunch of army dudes. My humility is long gone.”

  Well, that might’ve explained why he seemed fine with my perusal…except for that arm that came up to cover his chest where it seemed most of the blemished skin was located.

  “So no worries. I’m not ashamed of my body being on display.”

  I arched an eyebrow. “And you shouldn’t be.” When his eyes briefly widened, I silently cursed myself. “There I go, making this awkward again. All I meant was that you’re in good shape.”

  “Thanks.” His gaze latched solidly on to mine. “You’re not too bad yourself.”

  My entire body warmed at that comment. Christ, why did hearing him say that make me feel some sort of way I couldn’t wrap my head around?

  Because it was nice to be appreciated by a gorgeous man.

  Who is also your relative. Ex-relative.

  “Thanks for not making it weird.” I reached for the second pump machine to speed us along. I’d already spent way too many minutes deliberating by myself before he showed up to help. “It’s tricky sometimes, not being able to say whatever’s inside my head without ruining the facade.”

  His eyebrows knitted together. “What facade?”

  “The one I have to use around here.” I shrugged. “I might’ve come out, but that doesn’t mean I can freely express myself, not after I ruined so many things.” My gaze naturally swept toward the Carmichael Ranch beyond the door. “Besides, there are plenty of people who are still uncomfortable with my sexuality.”

  When he frowned, my stomach constricted. I certainly didn’t want any pity. But I supposed it was better than disgust or disappointment. I didn’t know why I had even voiced all that out loud anyway. But Julian was pretty easy to talk to, and we had covered plenty of topics the last couple of weeks alone in the barn. Why not the elephant in the room—my sexuality.

  “I get it, actually,” he said in a solemn voice as he hooked a machine up to the next cow.

  My shoulders stiffened. “What do you mean?”

  “You know, staying under the radar. Especially around people who might not understand or who have the power to hurt you.”

  My breath hitched because he was exactly right. That was how it felt, and I was pretty exhausted from having to keep it all in. Keep all my ducks in a row. Even after I came out, which felt like instant fucking relief, like I was finally allowed to be myself, I was still paying for the admission every day. I didn’t dare speak freely around anyone in my life, which was probably why finding a hookup in a gay bar a couple of towns away was always such a release. Because it was more than sexual. It was emotional and psychological to ultimately be yourself in a safe space, even if the safe space was with strangers.

  I felt Julian’s gaze burning into me, and when I lifted my eyes to his baby blues, the air around us seemed to thicken, like the molecules were banging together in a perfect storm.

  What in the world was happening? Had Julian just admitted something to me, or was it only wishful thinking? What would it be like to have a friend to confide in? To speak freely with?

  Just as I opened my mouth to ask him for clarification, the barn door swung wide and Sienna stepped inside. “Good mornin’,” she said in a cheery greeting.

  “Mornin’,” we both mumbled, our gazes swinging in opposite directions as if we’d been caught doing something unnatural. Christ, ridiculous. We hadn’t even really said anything to each other, but it felt like volumes had been spoken at the same time.

  Except, I wasn’t even sure about what.

  I felt clumsy, my limbs thick with awareness as Julian and I maneuvered around each other to finish our chores. Which were really my chores. Since when had I started thinking we were in it together? He could quit anytime he wanted.

  “Hey, Julian,” Sienna said as she worked with the goats on the other side of the free stall. “I wondered if you wanted to come to the Carmichael Ranch with us this weekend.” She glanced uneasily over at me as if I’d dispute her idea or something.

  “My family tries to have family dinners most Sundays,” I explained. “It’s a way for them to see Ainsley and for us to…stay connected, I guess?”

  Sienna shot me a sorrowful glance, one that Julian seemed to note as he looked between us. I wasn’t about to go there with them, not now. He would figure out easily enough how tense it was between me and my family.

  Sienna continued, “Mom—I mean, Mrs. Carmichael—asked, since you’re staying with us this summer.” I tensed briefly, noting how she tried so hard to break old habits no matter how many times I told her it was okay. My parents would always be in her life despite our divorce. “But it’s all right if you want to pass or give it more time.”

  “Or if you feel like takin’ off and doing your own thing,” I interjected. “You certainly don’t need to hang out with us on the weekends.”

  The weekends tended to be laxer around here, and since Marta and George were off, we definitely to
ok it easy instead of making it feel like the farm was all about work. Which it sort of was, but we didn’t have to make it feel like that. We fended for ourselves with meals—even though Marta always tried to leave us leftovers—and sometimes we went into town to do things that were less outdoorsy. Like catching a movie or having dinner at a local diner. Ainsley was usually involved in some sort of activity during the school year, but lately with her anxiety about leaving us, and since it was summer, it was quieter around here. Which suited me just fine.

  “I’d actually like that,” Julian said. “Thanks for asking.”

  9

  Julian

  “We usually head over to the Carmichael Ranch late afternoon,” Sienna reminded me after dinner as I helped them in the stables. It’d taken me a bit of time to feel comfortable enough to stand closer to the stalls, though I wasn’t sure where my uneasiness was coming from. Most likely from stories my mom told me about never really taking to horses, despite her sister and parents loving it. I remembered visiting Wyoming as a kid and steering clear, possibly because the horses seemed enormous at the time. But what was my excuse now?

  Kerry seemed to sense my apprehension, so after he mucked out the stalls, he handed me a pitchfork and asked me to rake straw for their bedding while he and Sienna led the horses in from the pasture.

  Lost in my thoughts, I’d startled when one of the horses was being brought in by Sienna. I stepped back sharply, only to hit what felt like a brick wall, when in fact, it was Kerry’s solid chest. His hands gripped my waist to steady me, and when he whispered soothingly in my ear, “I got you. You’re okay,” I trembled.

  It took me a moment to get my bearings before I mumbled a thank-you and backed out of the stall.

  I would undoubtedly become more relaxed around them by the end of the summer. But for now, I was fine being put to work and helping any way I could, as long as it didn’t involve being too close to a horse.