March
Two weeks had gone by since Dusk last saw Kent. He knew the exact number of days because every morning Jesse would mention it to him with a bemused grin. Sadist. Not even dumping a banana smoothie on his head had stopped the man.
He was a very dedicated sadist.
Progress on his clinic had continued; the flooring had gone in, been taken out when he screwed up, and redone the second time correctly. Dusk didn’t care if anyone else understood why he wanted to do it all himself. He could look around the place and slowly return it to its former glory with an immense amount of pride.
I built this. I paid for it. I did this.
Drywall had gone into all of the rooms that had needed it. All the structural aspects of the rebuilding had been completed. Now he had to paint, lots of painting, and updating windows. It would be the final phase of the construction portion; after, would be all about making it his beautiful, homey clinic and getting it functional.
Busy days were the best. No time to think about missing Kent, or how ridiculous it was to miss him in the first place. No matter how often his dad, Jesse, and Derrick poked and prodded him on the subject until his mother had started swinging her rolling pin at them.
Love that woman.
A familiar truck sat in one of the parking spots across from his clinic. What the hell? Dusk cycled around to the back entrance, walking his bicycle inside to its usual resting spot behind the kennels. He strode through the surgery and receptionist areas to find Kent had laid out the tarps on the floor and already begun to put up painter’s tape to protect the molding.
“Hey.” Dusk stood stupidly in the middle of the room, watching the attractive older man. “What are you doing here?”
Kent’s smile sent tingles down to the tips of his toes, which was annoying. He bent over to grab something hidden by the paint cans—his toolbox. “You said to bring my hammer.”
“So I did.” Dusk couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across his face, so wide it hurt. “How’s the house flipping?”
Kent crouched down to grab a screwdriver and opened the paint can Dusk set in front of him. “I spent a few weeks in Miami getting to know my father and his wife. It seemed more important than rushing through fixing up two houses. They’re not going anywhere, the houses, I mean. I’ll have plenty of time to work my magic. Thought maybe my hands would be welcome where my money wasn’t.”
“Kent…”
“No, you were right, I pushed, and I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.” Kent stirred the paint slowly, though he seemed to watch Dusk out of the corner of his eye. “Want my help?”
“Apology accepted. Grab a brush.” He decided not to draw out the apology. They’d both made mistakes. “How was Ramon?”
“Wise.”
Dusk paused with a paint brush in hand, blue paint dripping into the pan from the tip. “Is that good or bad?”
“Good.” Kent laughed, sending another shiver through him. “He suggested I might want to get out of my own way, so I can enjoy myself.”
“Definitely wise.”
The first hour of painting had been awkward, conversation stilted while they walked on eggshells around each other. Dusk didn’t want to prolong the angst from weeks ago, and Kent appeared intent on burying the hatchet. They both danced around each other, like their bodies were a mass of bruises they didn’t want to risk brushing up against.
“We can’t go on like this.”
Dusk set the brush into the pan closest to him. “You’re leaving?”
“What? No.” Kent shook his head vehemently. His hand shot out like a bullet from a gun to catch Dusk by the neck. Strong fingers wrapped around the back of his neck to drag him over. His foot ended up in one of the pans of paint, something he failed to notice when those lips he’d missed closed over his. He pulled back to breathe after a moment. “Damn, I missed this.”
They kissed. And kissed. Clothes had started to come off when applause sounded from near the front of the clinic. Dusk peered around Kent to find an amused audience of two watching.
“Oh, thank God. Now you’ll stop moping around like I stole your bicycle.” Derrick winked at them before backing out of the room, leaving Jesse by the front door. “Your mother says to come by for lunch in an hour.”
Jesse’s eyes drifted down their bodies to where the two men’s shoes had stepped in and out of the paint. “Might want to clean up a bit. Hand print on the ass won’t win you any points with the parents.”
“Jesse.”
“See you at the bar, Dr. Dusky.” Jesse turned his attention to Kent. “Remember what I said, Mountain Man.”
Dusk watched him leave with a confused frown. “What did he tell you?”
“Nothing important.” Kent eased himself out of the puddle of paint on the tarp. “Think we got more paint on the floor than on the wall.”
“We can fix it.” Dusk couldn’t keep his eyes away from the man, wondering if this might be about more than fixing his little animal hospital.
While Kent had been in Miami, Dusk had spent time talking with Derrick who had asked him what he wanted out of a relationship. Not marriage. He’d enjoyed what had started to develop with Kent. What could be more perfect than dating, sex, laughing together? It didn’t need to be more complicated.
“So, you sticking around for lunch?” Dusk nudged the man with his foot.
“Definitely.”
“More than lunch?”
“Definitely.” Kent slid a hand into one of Dusk’s front pockets, fingers straying along his thigh. “Have you got space in your life for a man from the mountains?”
“For now. I can always have Jesse make you disappear.” Dusk laughed until Kent shoved him up against the freshly painted wall. “We’re making a mess.”
“Don’t care. I’ll be here to help you clean it up.”
“Yes, you will.”
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