All three residents of the Pearce property were exhausted by the time they returned home that evening, no one more so than Elmer. He’d nodded off in Josiah’s car before they pulled into the driveway, and while Josiah hated waking him, he and Michael couldn’t exactly carry him into the house. Elmer was as tall as Michael and while he’d lost some weight since his stroke, he was still a big man.
Elmer grumbled a bit but didn’t complain openly while Josiah took him inside the house and straight to the bathroom to wash up for bed. It was only seven thirty, but even Josiah was ready to face-plant in the trailer as soon as possible. After more than eight hours in the bright sunshine, all he wanted was sleep.
Michael hadn’t followed them inside, so he was probably unloading Elmer’s ornaments and equipment from the pickup, instead of leaving it out all night. Even with the gate locked, he was careful about not leaving important things lying around the property. Probably a personality quirk about clutter, especially when he couldn’t do much about all the metal art strewn around the place.
Elmer drifted off before Josiah returned to his room with a glass of water, in case he got thirsty during the night. Josiah smoothed out the top of the blanket, overjoyed by the half smile on Elmer’s sleeping face, confident he’d had an amazing day at the picnic. He embraced a bubble of familial pride for the older man, whom he’d come to think of as a father figure. Elmer definitely treated him more like a son now than an employee, and Josiah wasn’t always sure how to feel about that.
Yes, Elmer promised Josiah had a place to live for as long as he needed it, but would that same paternal affection exist for Josiah when he was no longer their employee? Was Josiah getting too attached to something he’d lose in a month or so, when Elmer was more independent? Elmer might never regain the strength to ascend the stairs to the second floor, but Josiah was confident that one day he’d be able to move around the downstairs without the wheelchair.
Josiah wanted that for Elmer. He much preferred when his employment ended because his patient recovered, rather than because they passed away. Both reasons had their own built-in grief, though, especially when Josiah grew close to his patient and their family—if family was even in the picture.
He’d never had a family member in the picture the way Michael was now, all involved and attentive and so damned appealing to Josiah in every possible way. He’d never wanted a family member the way he wanted Michael, but reaching for him was pointless unless Michael planned to stay. Josiah wouldn’t be left behind again.
The front door opened and shut with a familiar squeal. With Elmer settled, Josiah went into the living room. No Michael, but he followed the sound of glass clanking to the kitchen. Michael had pulled a six-pack of longnecks from the fridge and a bottle opener from a drawer, and he seemed to be contemplating both.
“Hey,” Michael said with a familiar, warm smile that made Josiah grin right back. “I was thinking about taking the truck out into the back field to stargaze for a bit. Relax and unwind. It’s a clear night.”
“Okay.” That sounded stupidly peaceful, but he wasn’t going to invite—
“Wanna come with me? Share a few beers?”
Stargazing and drinking with Michael on a gorgeous autumn night? Yes, please. Also, danger alert! His endorphins from the great day still buzzed in his bloodstream, though, and Josiah couldn’t say no. “Sure, why not? Elmer’s fast asleep.”
“Awesome.”
Unsure if this was a good idea or not, Josiah grabbed his light jacket, because the temperature had dipped a bit since the sun set, and followed Michael to the pickup. Got into the cab with the beer and bottle opener. Michael’s presence filled the truck’s cab, everything from his body’s bulk to his cologne wrapping around Josiah’s senses like a warm blanket. So comforting and safe.
Michael didn’t drive them far, maybe a hundred yards from the house. Close enough the yard lights were still clearly visible, as were the very distant lights of Woods Ranch across the horizon. They got out, and Josiah wasn’t too surprised to see a faded quilt in the truck bed. Michael pulled down the tailgate and helped Josiah up, then climbed in himself. Spread the quilt over the slightly dirty, dusty bed.
Josiah settled on one side with the six-pack between them, his stomach quivering with nerves. How many times growing up had Michael parked like this with someone he was interested in? Josiah had never really dated, not in the traditional way most people did, and while this wasn’t a date, the teenage him who’d survived on the streets for too many years pretended it was. Just for a little while.
Michael popped the cap on a beer and handed it to Josiah. Beer wasn’t his favorite, but this was a pale American brand that wasn’t too strong, so Josiah sipped at his while Michael opened his own.
“It was a great day,” Michael said after taking a long pull from his bottle.
“Yes, it was.” Josiah rested his elbow on the wheel well and tried to relax as much as possible with the object of his inappropriate crush leaning back on one hand in a casual (and sexy) pose. “Your dad was in his element, I think. I’ve never seen him so conversational and, well, alive, I guess.”
“He really is a people person, even though he likes to deny it. The whole grouchy recluse is a part he plays to keep folks from getting too close.”
“I get that. Sometimes it’s easier to keep walls up than risk getting hurt.”
“I think all three of us have a lot of practice with that.” Michael’s intent gaze met his and seemed to look right into his heart. “It’s not easy putting yourself out there when you’ve been betrayed too many times by people who were supposed to love you. Take care of you.”
“Yeah.” He took another, longer drink from his beer. The yeasty liquid swirled in Josiah’s mostly empty stomach, but he’d been too stuffed from lunch to eat anything when they got home. Now he kind of regretted it, because the alcohol was already loosening his tongue. He also wanted to confide in Michael, to show he trusted the older man, and maybe earn some of that trust in return. “You know Seamus and I weren’t just roommates.”
“I know.”
“It did start out that way, though. Just roommates.” Josiah pulled more courage—and beer—from the bottle. “I’d been working in Amarillo, and my patient’s neighbor had an uncle in Daisy who lived alone and was going to need help recovering from surgery, so he recommended me. When I drove out for an interview, we talked about the commute from Amarillo, and he’d heard that the new county sheriff had just moved into the area and had a room to rent. It was cheaper than my rent in the city, and I’d save a ton in gas and mileage.”
“What was he like when you met him?”
Josiah didn’t need to clarify the “him” was Seamus. “Charming, actually. He didn’t flirt or make a pass. He was kind and polite. Said he worked a lot so I’d have run of the house during most days. I could use the TV and kitchen and even the exercise bike in his bedroom if I wanted. For a few months, everything was perfectly platonic.”
“But then things changed.”
“Yeah.” He picked at the damp paper label on his bottle, finding it both easy to confide in Michael and also insanely embarrassing at how he’d been duped. Lured into being nothing more than a toy for Seamus to use when he saw fit. “It’s hard to pinpoint exactly when things changed, because it was a gradual process. But I guess most controlling, emotionally abusive relationships are. You don’t see what’s happening because you’re right in the middle of it.” It had taken Josiah many sleepless nights to understand he couldn’t have stopped what happened to him; he hadn’t known anything truly bad was going on until things completely hit the fan.
Until the first time Seamus demanded sex and Josiah said no. Things had gotten bad after that, until he learned things were better when he said yes.
Always yes.
“I think I get that to a point,” Michael said. “Not seeing the bad even when it’s right in front of you. You get so used to your own distorted view of the world that you can’t see anything better beyond it.”
“Pretty much. And then, when you see how far down the rabbit hole you’ve fallen, you’re too deep and too ashamed to ask for help getting out.” He gently nudged Michael’s shoulder with his. “It takes five guys and a pickup truck to get you the help you need.”
“Don’t forget an overprotective German shepherd.”
“Can never forget Brutus. I’m sorry you lost your dog.”
Michael flinched and tilted his face up to the stars. “Thanks. Is it sad that I miss him more than I miss Kenny?”
“No. Dogs are more loyal than people.” And since he’d brought up the subject—“Have you thought about adopting another dog?”
“Sometimes. We’ve definitely got the land for it. Plenty of room for a few dogs to run around, chase field mice, and have a good old time.”
“But?”
Michael shrugged and sipped his beer again, but when he looked at Josiah, those same “I don’t know if I’m staying” questions lingered in his eyes. He grabbed a second beer, popped the cap, and drank without replying. Josiah knew, though. Adopting a new dog was too big of a commitment. Too much, too soon.
“Elmer is convinced that when he dies, you’re going to sell the land off and leave town for good,” Josiah said, and good God, he needed to stop drinking beer on an empty stomach. Too much sun and a little bit of alcohol had fried his brain-to-mouth censor. “Is that your plan?”
“My dad isn’t dying anytime soon, and I don’t know what my plan is.” Michael scowled at him. “You guys really talked about that stuff? Him dying?”
“A little, yeah. It isn’t unusual when someone his age has a health crisis to start thinking ahead to what family will be left to deal with when they pass. He doesn’t think you’ll want to deal with the barn or the ranch, and I probably shouldn’t be telling you this.” Josiah put his empty bottle down. “Shit.”
“Hey, I won’t tell Dad you broke his confidence, and I appreciate getting his perspective. You’re, uh, kind of a lightweight, huh?”
Josiah snorted. “Little bit. If beer looks bad on me, you should see me after one tequila shot. Actually, strike that. No hard liquor around you, ever.”
“Why not?”
“Because alcohol fucks with my head, and I need to stay focused around you.”
“Why?”
“Because you are everything Seamus wasn’t, and you also sign my checks. Two very huge reasons to stay in my lane and out of yours.” Josiah shook himself all over, not liking the slightly floaty feeling from that single stupid beer, and scooted a bit closer to the wheel well. Away from Michael, with his sweet smile and appealing scents of cologne and sweat. “If you did inherit this place, what would you do with it?”
Michael quirked an eyebrow at him but seemed to take the hint that they were done talking about Josiah for now. “I’ve been thinking a lot about that today, believe it or not.”
It both did and did not surprise Josiah, and he wanted—no, needed to know more. If there was an actual chance Michael wasn’t going to become another person who left him behind. “And?”
“I think if I was going to do something to change this property I wouldn’t wait until after Dad passed, because I think I’d miss an opportunity to make up for lost time with him.” The bald emotion in Michael’s voice snared Josiah’s attention and didn’t let go. “We both made some huge mistakes, and we both threw a lot of blame around years ago. But I don’t want to leave in six months and not come back again until he has another crisis.”
“So what do you want?”
“To make a difference again.” Michael finished the rest of his second beer, then released an amusing belch. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine.” Josiah latched on to Michael’s words. “You don’t think you make a difference?”
“Right now? Here? Not the same difference I made a month ago when I was wiping my grown father’s ass. Now all I really do is cook his meals and make sure he can get from his bed to his wheelchair to the can without face-planting.”
He was definitely selling himself short in his contributions to Elmer’s recovery, and it hurt Josiah’s heart to hear Michael so down on himself. It was such a far cry from the confident, if slightly heartbroken, man he’d first met. “So how did you make a difference back in Austin?”
“In my personal life? I’m not sure I did.” Josiah didn’t object when Michael popped the cap off a third beer, but he did make a mental note to confiscate the truck keys soon. They weren’t too far away from the house to walk back. “But my app made a difference in people’s lives. They made connections, sometimes romances, sometimes disasters, but I helped people reach each other. All I do here is rustle cattle and try hard not to flirt with you.”
Josiah’s chest warmed pleasantly at that blunt admission. “You brought personal interactions to others with your app.”
“Yep.”
“You don’t think you do that just by being here? Your dad enjoys your company. I enjoy your company. Your coworkers seem to love you. You made a huge difference for me when Seamus kicked me out.”
“Dad would have taken you in even if I hadn’t been here.”
“What about getting my stuff from Seamus?”
“Dad made that call to Wayne. Would’ve happened either way.”
Josiah frowned, frustrated by this grumpy, semidrunk version of Michael who seemed intent on putting himself down. Maybe it was time to redirect the conversation again. “So what would you do to change this ranch? You got off topic.”
“I’m not really sure. Small-time ranching is pretty impossible to get into nowadays with the way the big corporations own most of the livestock and land, so no sense in revisiting that old dream. But I think I’d like to see animals out here again. Maybe be a place where city kids can learn about farm life. Learn to milk a cow, eat a freshly laid egg, ride a horse. Small stuff we take for granted because it’s all around us. Maybe even work in tandem with the Grove Point CSA.”
For someone who said he’d only been toying with ideas, Michael sounded like someone with very real thoughts on what he wanted to do with his family’s property. “So an educational center?”
“Sort of but interactive and not stuffy. But we’re so far from most places, and Amarillo isn’t exactly a megacity like Austin.”
“True, but not all rural communities have farms with livestock for kids to experience. A lot of the times they’re just trying to get by with what they have, never mind go explore new things.”
“But again, that kind of shit requires money to get started, and I wouldn’t want to charge anything. Not really.” Michael tapped one finger against the neck of his bottle. “It’s all just a bunch of pipe dreams anyway. Can’t see Dad going for a bunch of tourists and teenagers wandering around the property. Too many strangers, too much danger.”
“Your dad enjoyed himself today surrounded by people.”
“They weren’t on this land, though.” That mysterious pain flashed in Michael’s expressive eyes again, and Josiah couldn’t help wondering what had happened here for both men to lock the gate. For father and son to spend years keeping the world out.
It had something to do with Michael’s mother—he was sure of it.
He hated that sad look on Michael’s face and found another conversational redirect. “Is it weird that I’m surprised Seamus didn’t say a word to me today?”
“No, because I’m a little surprised, too. But also glad, because I’d have hated to punch him in the face and get arrested for assaulting a law officer.”
Josiah chuckled. “I’m glad about that, too. That guy with him gave me the creeps, though.”
“Same. Fortunately, his personal life is no longer your business, and yours is no longer his. As long as he remembers that and keeps his distance, I won’t have to hand him his ass for hurting you.”
“I doubt you’ll ever need to bother. I’ve known men like Seamus McBride before. He took what he wanted, and when he was done, he tossed me aside. I didn’t leave him, so he has no reason to come at me again.”
“Other than jealousy over seeing you happy without him?”
Josiah shook his head and pulled his second beer from the carrier, but didn’t open it. He stared at the damp label so he didn’t have to look at Michael. “Seamus is a practical guy. I’ve never known him to be ruled by his emotions. He needed a roommate, he got one. He needed someone for regular sex, and he got that, too. He needed someone desperate enough for attention and a place to live that I’d jump when he told me to, and bring him coffee at all hours of the night, even if I was fast asleep. Then he lost interest and I got the boot.”
“A harsh fucking boot.”
“It was, but again, it was his call. For as scared as I was of him for the first week or so after, worried he’d change his mind and demand I go back to that existence, I think he’s moved on.”
“What about the guy with him today? Do you think he’s in the same situation you were?”
Do you think he’s in physical danger? went unasked.
“I don’t know,” Josiah said. “I’ve never seen him before, and today he almost seemed possessive of Seamus. It was bizarre.”
“Could he be an ex back in the picture?”
“No idea. Seamus never talked about his past or previous partners, male or female. Although sometimes I got the odd sense he was hiding here.”
Michael reached out and popped the cap off Josiah’s beer. “Hiding from what?”
He shrugged and sipped the warming beer. “Dunno. People finding out he’s gay? Your guess is as good as mine, and it’s too nice a night to keep talking about Seamus. Let’s keep celebrating a great day. Do you know any constellations?”
“Not really. Dad knows some but I never cared enough to learn. I just like looking at the light and finding my own patterns. Sort of like cloud watching and looking for shapes in them.” Michael stretched out on his back, bottle resting on his stomach, his free hand pillowed behind his head. Josiah looked up at the stars so he didn’t stare at Michael’s long, muscled body.
“You know, when you invited me to stargaze, I thought you might have something to teach me,” Josiah teased.
“Surprise. I just wanted to spend time with you, away from other people. Talk and stuff.”
“And stuff?” Josiah wasn’t sure he was ready for “and stuff,” but Michael painted a very tempting picture lying that way, smiling up at the sky. After another long pull of beer, Josiah put his bottle next to his empty and lay down next to Michael. The position gave him a much better view of the blanket of stars above them.
As he stared up, he began to understand Michael’s view on the stars a bit more. The way their light made Michael feel seen even when he was alone. How they themselves were like the stars—specks of individual light in a sea of billions, both the same as every other one, and also completely different from each other. No one light identical but each serving the same function.
“The stars see you, Josiah,” Michael whispered, as if hearing his own internal thoughts. He spoke softly, almost reverently, and Josiah didn’t object when Michael rested one hand over Josiah’s. A gentle pressure without taking or demanding. Simply making contact.
“I feel seen by them.” He let his head loll to the side; Michael was staring right at him. “And by you.”
Michael’s entire body seemed to thrum with energy, a live wire ready to snap, but it didn’t scare Josiah. Michael moved slowly, pulling his hand away from Josiah’s so he could sit up on one elbow. Stare down at Josiah with so much tenderness Josiah’s heart wept with joy and relief. He was absolutely safe here with this man; Josiah knew it in his bones. And in that moment, he wanted nothing more than for Michael to kiss him.
Michael stroked his thumb across Josiah’s left cheekbone in a featherlight touch that warmed Josiah’s blood in a pleasant way. With tender caresses, Michael touched his face and neck with only his fingertips, while his gaze seemed to study him, mapping his cheeks and chin and the small mole on his jaw. Josiah didn’t think he was all that interesting, but Michael? Looming over him like he wanted to devour Josiah? He was gorgeous, with his dark eyes and square jaw and light dusting of evening scruff. Scruff Josiah resisted running his own fingers over. He couldn’t make himself touch, only experience.
“May I?” Michael whispered so softly Josiah saw the words more than he heard them.
In an equally quiet, breathy voice, Josiah said, “Yes.”
Michael sifted his fingers through Josiah’s hair, and Josiah leaned into the tender gesture of being petted. So thoughtful and kind, making no demands on him or his body, melting Josiah’s hesitation with each passing moment. When Michael finally leaned in, Josiah didn’t tense. He remained relaxed, curious as Michael brushed his warm lips over Josiah’s, barely hard enough to feel or catch the taste of the man.
Needing to know more now that he’d had a sip, Josiah arched up and captured Michael’s mouth with his. Michael moaned softly and parted his lips just enough for Josiah to catch the delicate, intoxicating taste of beer and man. They kissed like that for a while, their lips questing and tasting, without deepening it. Then Michael’s body slid closer and pressed against his side, and the erection that brushed Josiah’s hip sent a jolt of reality through him.
He pulled back and sat up too fast, nearly clipping Michael’s chin with the top of his head. His own body thrummed with arousal and desire, but Josiah couldn’t indulge. Not now, not with this man, and he had reasons for that.
Boss. Paycheck. Wrong.
Right. “I’m sorry,” Josiah said. “I shouldn’t have allowed that.”
“I’m not sorry.” Michael twisted around so he was facing Josiah, legs crossed, hands in his lap. “I didn’t plan it when I asked you out here tonight, but I can’t say I wasn’t wondering what kissing you would be like.”
The part of him that craved genuine intimacy and affection couldn’t help asking, “What was it like?”
“Sweet. Intoxicating. Craveable.”
“I thought it was pretty good, too.” Josiah saw the intent in Michael’s expression and the moment he started to move in. He reached out and put a staying hand on Michael’s shoulder. “We can’t. I know I’m giving you mixed signals, and I’m sorry about that. I do like you, Michael, but I work for you, and I need this job.”
“I’m not going to—”
“I know you wouldn’t kick me out if things don’t work out between us. You’ve said it and I believe you. This is about me and my headspace right now. Most of my adult life, I have traded my body for a place to live and I finally have a semblance of independence. I can’t give that up.”
Not right now, no matter how much I want you.
“That’s fair,” Michael said after a few seconds of watching him with an indecipherable expression. For all the beer he’d consumed, he seemed incredibly sober now. “I don’t want to pressure you. I will be blunt and say I like you. I’m attracted to you, and I would love to take you out on a date. But I also hear you and what you’re saying. Friends?”
“Definitely.” He held his beer out.
Michael tapped the neck of his against Josiah’s with a grin. “Good. You wanna stargaze in silence for a little longer? I promise no more kissing.”
“Sure.”
Josiah stretched back out with Michael by his side, the stars a blanket of twinkling light above. He’d enjoyed his long, sensual kiss with Michael, but it couldn’t happen again—no matter how much his body craved another kiss, another touch, maybe even a real, full-body hug. Those were dreams for another time and place, not for here and now. Not for him.
For here and now, he had friendship and the stars. And for here and now, those two things would have to sustain him. Period.