Chapter Three
Luke woke up with a start. He groaned, hands going automatically to the hard-on jutting from his middle. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d woken with his body stirring this hard.
He had urges, of course—that was only natural. But it always seemed almost clinical: he got hard, he dealt with it—usually in the shower in the morning—and he was done. This didn’t feel clinical in the least. He needed. He wanted a welcoming body to sink into, a soft mouth to surround his cock. He wanted things a man in the middle of nowhere had no business wanting.
He took himself in hand, working with what was his normal quick efficiency. Usually that was enough and he’d come fairly quickly. It took forever this morning, and by the time he was done, his hand was tired and his breath panted from him as if he’d been running. And he was feeling less than satisfied.
He hauled himself out of bed with a sigh. It was time to get his day started.
He had breakfast, checked in with the main office, then began packing up the trailer. He put in several two-fours of water, milk, frozen bread ready to be baked, bags of frozen vegetables, meat, and a few boxed cakes and instant puddings. He figured that had to be enough food for Greyson for close to a month. Hells, probably more. Not everyone ate like he did.
He added some board games and a half-dozen spy books along with an extra pair of mitts, a scarf, and two hats. He threw a tarp over the whole thing and tied it down.
Then he headed back to Greyson’s.
The cabin was dark, the chimney only letting out the barest wisp of smoke. Which meant it hadn’t been stoked or fed since he’d left. Greyson had a death wish. Man wasn’t careful, he’d find himself at the ranger station.
Luke got off the snowmobile and went over to bang on the door. “Greyson, open up! I know you’re home!”
If the man didn’t answer, he was going to break the damn door down. He pounded on it again. “Don’t make me come for you.”
“Sorry. Sorry. Sorry.” He heard a crash, a thud, then a “Fuck!”
Ah shit. The crutches. He sighed and tried the door, but it was locked and now that he knew Greyson was up, he wasn’t going to force the door without giving Greyson a fair amount of time.
“I’m coming. I’m coming. I’m on the floor.”
Shit. “I’m coming in. You need the help.” He tried the handle again, twisting it off, which gave him a way to get in.
Greyson was on the floor, tangled in the sheets, scarred leg exposed. The man was sweating, trembling, and in need of—him—help.
He went over and lifted Greyson up, holding him close. He settled Greyson back on the couch and stayed there with him, waiting to make sure Greyson knew who he was and had his bearings.
“I’m sorry, man. I went down hard. I was dreaming.”
“You mean having a nightmare.” Dreams didn’t leave you gasping on the floor, even if they were interrupted by banging on the door. He took off his gloves and rubbed Greyson’s arm.
“Yeah. Hey. Thank you.”
Luke nodded and looked around, his mouth tight. His instinct was to toss Greyson over his shoulder and take the man home where Luke could take care of him properly.
The cabin wasn’t bad, but it was going to need constant work to keep the cold out, to keep the septic from freezing, to bring propane and water in. Gas for the generator.
He wasn’t convinced Greyson was up to any of those. Hells, he wasn’t convinced Greyson wasn’t going to starve to death even with all the food Luke had just brought.
He looked Greyson in the eyes. “Why don’t you pack up your stuff and I’ll take you to the ranger station. The guest room is bigger than the cabin and you’d actually have a bed to sleep on.”
“I can’t. I can’t handle a bunch of other people, man. I’m not up to it.”
“I know I’m a big guy, but the last time I checked, I’m not a bunch. Just one. I’m the only one out here.”
“I...” Greyson swallowed, eyes darting toward the door.
Aha, there was a little crack in Greyson’s prickly armor.
“Seriously. We’ll do a trial. Come for today. If you hate it...” He shrugged. Maybe Greyson wouldn’t notice that he hadn’t actually said he’d bring him back to this little death trap of a cabin. “You could have a long, hot bath...”
Greyson’s eyes lit up for a moment. Another crack. Excellent.
He got up. “Where’s your bag? Let’s get it packed up.”
“Wait. Did I say...?”
“I know you want to. This place would depress the happiest person in the world.”
“Are you suggesting this isn’t the Magic Kingdom?”
“Sure it is. If the Magic Kingdom got eaten by the hotel from Psycho.”
Greyson began to laugh, the sound wild, brightening Greyson’s entire expression. Luke found himself unable to look away. He shook himself. The urge to grab Greyson and drag him out of there by his hair surged through him. He was ready to stop visiting this little cabin and have Greyson tucked away in the guest bedroom. That would be less disruptive to his routine. It wasn’t like they’d have to interact much or anything.
“So, have you got anything to bring or should we go?”
“I have my clothes. That’s all.”
He found Greyson’s so-called winter coat and handed it over, then grabbed the duffel bag from the corner near where Greyson’s crutches were. He grabbed those, too. “This everything?”
“Yeah.”
Shit.
“Put the damn coat on, Greyson. I’ll be back for you in a minute.” He went out and added the bag and crutches to the trailer, then went back for the man.
“That’s a long way to walk without my crutches.”
“Snow’s pretty deep, I figured I’d carry you.”
“Carry me?” Look at those eyes.
“Yep.” He picked Greyson up, cradling his lean body. Bullocks, someone needed fattening up. “Don’t tense, I have you.” And he wasn’t letting go. He put Greyson on the back of the snowmobile, meeting those icy eyes, watching them widen, dilate. “You have to hold on.”
“I will. Don’t worry.”
“I worry.” After all, Greyson hadn’t shown very much instinct for self-preservation so far that Luke had seen.
He climbed on and waited for Greyson to wrap his arms around Luke’s waist.
He took a deep breath and started up the snowmobile, letting the motor run for a moment before he took off, heading home. All the way, Greyson leaned into him, cheek hidden against his back.
Despite the parka, he swore he could not only feel Greyson’s heat, but every line of his body. It was crazy, but he couldn’t shake it. Greyson held him tight, even laughing once when they took a sharp corner.
If Greyson liked this, he’d love flying.
Luke shut the thought down. Greyson needed a place to land. That was all. What was wrong with him, thinking about flying with anyone? Hells, he was going to have to curtail his morning rounds while Greyson was staying with him. Or at least figure out a way to do them without being noticed. So, Greyson was already proving to be as much trouble at the station as he had out there at the cabin. Great. He supposed Greyson not dying of hunger or exposure was a plus he couldn’t deny.
Right now, he needed to focus on driving. Hitting a tree would complicate matters. To say the least.
He kept his eyes peeled, and when the snow started about five minutes from home, he was glad he’d insisted they not linger. Getting snowed in at that little cabin wouldn’t have been a lot of fun, even with the supplies he’d brought.
He pulled the snowmobile into the garage. They could leave the bulk of the goods in the trailer and bring in Greyson’s bag and crutches.
Greyson was already shivering, shaking hard against him. Luckily the garage was attached along one side with the house—Greyson wouldn’t have far to go. Hells, he didn’t even have to go out into the snow again.
Luke climbed off and helped Greyson get off, too. “Don’t worry about your stuff, I’ll get it once you’re settled. Can you make it in holding on to my arm instead of your crutches?”
Greyson held his gaze. “I can walk.” So much pride there. And stubbornness, too.
“Go ahead then, I’ll grab your stuff.” It was only a few steps to the door and there were hallways after that. And if Greyson fell, he fell. Luke ignored the little voice inside that demanded he make sure that didn’t happen. He wasn’t the man’s mother.
Greyson managed to get off the snowmobile, but that was it. He collapsed in a heap, expression utterly confused. Luke dropped Greyson’s stuff and went to the man, pushing his hands beneath the thin body.
“I’ve got you.”
“I’m sorry. They... I’m cold.”
“Yeah. Your winter gear really isn’t up to par. Don’t worry—it’s nice inside.” He liked it cozy, but he’d turn the heat up even higher to keep Greyson from being cold.
He carried Greyson in and took him to the living room. The couch was more than comfortable enough to fall asleep on. Goddess knew, he’d done it more than once himself. He set Greyson down carefully.
“I’m sorry, man. I swear. I’m sorry.”
“I’m not looking for apologies from you. Relax, okay?”
He worked Greyson’s winter gear off and wrapped him in a blanket. Then he went to the hearth and blew the embers back to life, slowly adding extra kindling and then the bigger logs.
Greyson began to relax, melting into the cushions with a sigh.
“I’m going to make us some breakfast.” Second breakfast for him, but he was always up for food, and he was pretty sure Greyson hadn’t eaten yet. “I’m going to assume you like eggs and sausage.” Thank the Goddess Greyson wasn’t a vegetarian or worse; that would have made Luke cry.
“Does anyone not like eggs and sausage?”
The answer came easily, given he’d been thinking about it. “Vegans.”
“I don’t know any of those, man.”
“I’ve met one or two granola crunchers hiking in the woods. Mostly ‘finding themselves’.” He hated that term. Not to mention, Luke preferred it when people stayed out of his woods whatever their reason for being there. Goddess bless the winter.
“I’m sorry that you’re having to deal with me, man. I wasn’t out here to cause trouble.”
“It’s okay. You’re not a vegan and you were lost on purpose.” He pulled out the big cast-iron pan, then grabbed a half-dozen eggs and a package of farmer’s sausages. He put the fat little oblongs on first, then cracked the eggs into a bowl, adding some milk and some garlic, salt and pepper.
Greyson watched him with tired eyes, the bags underneath dark enough to look like bruises.
He’d have suggested the guy go ahead and nap some more, but he didn’t want to have to wake Greyson up for food in ten minutes.
“So where are you from?” As soon as Greyson had eaten, he’d show the man to the guest room and insist Greyson get some shut-eye.
“Vancouver, originally.”
“You’re a long way from home.” All the way across the country. “Was that a deliberate choice?”
“My family is gone, my life is gone, and I needed a change.”
“I’m so sorry to hear about your family. Was it an accident?” One didn’t just lose one’s family. Things had to have happened.
“My mom died of breast cancer. My dad committed suicide a year later while I was overseas.”
“Son of a bitch.” That was way harsh. “I really am sorry.”
“Yeah. It sucked.” Looked like Greyson was the soul of understatement.
He cut up the sausages and threw the egg mixture in on top of them, letting everything cook. “Coffee, milk, or juice with your breakfast?” he asked as he put four slices of bread into the toaster.
“Coffee, please.”
“What flavor do you want? I’ve got a Keurig and about six thousand flavors.” He handed the big box of containers to Greyson.
“Whoa.” There was a smile. Like a true, genuine smile.
“I know, eh? It’s like a magical mystery box of coffee.”
“Hazelnut Cream, please. That sounds decadent.”
“It’s awesome. I might have actually picked up a box of those.” Grinning, he put the big box back in the coffee cupboard and pulled out the half-full one of Hazelnut Creams. He took two containers out and put one in the Keurig, setting a mug to catch the coffee as it dripped. Then he checked on the eggs and sausage.
“Can I do anything, man?”
“It’s almost done. You’ll have plenty of chances to take on a meal or twenty.” He gave Greyson his coffee, then changed out the container and stuck his own mug on the stand. Getting down a couple of plates, he dished up the eggs and sausages.
He set a plate down in front of Greyson and one in front of his own chair.
“I’ll be out of your hair. I don’t... I’m not sure why I let you bring me here.”
“Because you didn’t want to freeze to death or starve at that cabin. And you’re not in my hair—you’re in my chair.” He wasn’t going to let Greyson leave until spring. He’d have to figure out how not to go insane with someone else living here, but if he took Greyson back to the cabin and the guy died out there, well, Luke would never forgive himself.
His little chair/hair joke earned him that laugh again, and it echoed inside him, made him eager to hear it again. He grabbed the salt and pepper shakers off the counter and set them on the table, then picked up his own coffee and sat.
“I don’t stand on ceremony when it comes to meals. Dig in.” He grabbed his own fork and started eating.
Greyson ate, slowly at first, but with increasing eagerness. Luke wasn’t surprised. He bet that Greyson had been so hungry he didn’t know that’s what the problem was. Once he’d started eating his body had woken up and said yes, please, lots more.
They finished their breakfast, Greyson managing to get three-quarters of it down before giving up. “That was great, man. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He’d already finished his and went to grab Greyson’s plate, but he paused. “You want me to wrap it up for later or finish it up myself?” He didn’t believe in wasting food. Especially not during the winter.
“Go for it, man. I’m stuffed.”
“I can always find a little extra room.” He had an extremely good metabolism. He finished Greyson’s plate quickly then sat back with a happy sigh, hand on his coffee cup, enjoying the heat of it.
Greyson sat wrapped in the blankets, quiet and still.
“The fire’s blazing pretty well now. Why don’t you go lie on the couch and have a nap in front of it?” He thought Greyson could use about twenty more meals like this breakfast and a week’s worth of sleeping to start looking human again. It would be easier to get another meal into the guy if he napped on the couch for now instead of on the guest bed.
“Are you sure? I’m not in the way?” Greyson was almost asleep, head bobbing.
Luke went over, helped him up, and walked Greyson back to the couch. “I’m totally sure. If you were, I wouldn’t have brought you back.” Okay, so that wasn’t entirely true. He wouldn’t have left anyone there to freeze, and Greyson was kind of in the way. He wasn’t going to say that out loud, though. Even a cantankerous grouch like himself wasn’t that mean.