CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Several days later, Cal stared into his nearly empty fridge. It was bad enough that he didn’t have anything he wanted to eat, but the fact that Beck would be happy to cook for him if Cal hadn’t pushed him away made it even worse.
His phone rang. He didn’t recognize the number, but he answered it anyway in case it was business related.
“Cal? It’s Paxton Marshall.”
“Oh, hi, Pax.” At least it was someone supportive, not an asshole calling to tell him off, but for some reason butterflies jumped in his stomach.
“I heard you were having some problems with the Johnsons and their church.”
Cal grimaced. “Yeah. You could say that.”
“Well, I’ve been looking for a venue to host a charity art sale and kids’ painting day. An outdoor space is desirable because the kids are going to get messy, so I was wondering if you’d consider hosting the event at your farm. We’re raising money for the hospital’s new children’s center, and I’ve already gotten a lot of wealthy sponsors.”
“Who might pull out if you host it here?”
“If they’re all right with me, don’t you think they’ll be okay coming to your farm?”
Cal sighed. “You haven’t been caught naked in your shop.”
“Sadly, I’ve not recently had the opportunity.”
Cal snorted. “That is too bad.”
“The kids could do pony rides if you wanted to offer that, or—”
“I don’t know.”
“You’re not going to let these assholes shut you down, are you?”
Was he? Was he really thinking about selling? He was the fourth generation of his family to own this land. The Ames Bridge courthouse was named for his great-great-grandfather, and his grandfather had been one of the main voices calling for the restoration of the bridge—even if later he had screwed over Beck’s family. Hell no, Cal wasn’t walking away.
“There’s no denying there are plenty of bigoted shits in this town, but there are also a hell of a lot of people who support you, or just don’t give a damn what you do in bed, as long as you give them a product or a service they want. Plenty of people told me I’d never make it here, that I needed to go to Greensboro or better yet Raleigh, but my parents needed me close after my brother died, so I stayed. And I’m doing all right now.”
“Yeah, but you’re an artist and—”
“It’s okay for an artist to be gay but not a farmer?”
Cal ran a hand through his hair. “I’m being an ass, aren’t I?”
“A little, but you’re right to an extent. I know you’d like to talk to more schools about doing field trips, and—”
“How do you know that?”
Pax hesitated for a moment. “Um…Irene stopped by yesterday, so I know everything.”
“God help you.”
“I want you to know that I have school groups here at the shop several times a week, preschoolers all the way up to high school art classes.”
“No one complains?”
“Some people do, but they’ve not been able to sway enough school officials to affect my business.”
Pax was right. Cal needed to run his business his way. “So when do you want to do this benefit?”
“Mid June. Ideally the second Saturday.”
“Okay, how soon do you need an answer? I need to talk to a few people I’d get to help out that day.”
“As soon as possible so I can confirm it and start working on advertising.”
“I’ll have an answer for you in a few days. Thanks for asking me.”
“You’re welcome. And whatever you decide, don’t let anyone take your dream from you. I know that sounds cheesy as hell, but—”
“No, you’re right.”
“Don’t keep hiding out either. You might be surprised just how many people don’t give a damn that you were fucking Beck in your barn.”
Cal sputtered. Pax had always seemed too reserved to say something like that.
“In fact, I think a lot of them are envious.”
“They should be.” That had been the best sex of his life.
Pax laughed. “Do tell.”
“I’ll keep the details to myself, but I’ll say that Mrs. Johnson might enjoy life more if she got pushed up against a stall door.”
“I’m sure that’s true. Although rumor has it her husband isn’t averse to a lap dance when he can slip away.”
“Fucking bastards.”
“Yeah, they are, but hang in there, okay?”
“All right.”
After ending the call, Cal paced the kitchen. He was fucking sick of never leaving the farm. He’d eaten all the lasagna Beck had given him, and he didn’t want to heat a can of soup or make Ramen. What he wanted was to walk over to Beck’s, beg his forgiveness, fuck him until he could barely stand up, and then eat whatever delicious leftovers were in his fridge. But there was a damn good chance Beck wouldn’t even open the door for him after Cal had dismissed everything they’d shared a few days ago. He needed to figure out what the hell to say to Beck, and that wasn’t going to happen until he got himself together.
So unless he wanted eggs from his chickens, which he’d had for his last two meals, greens that stayed tough no matter how he cooked them, or badly grilled meat from the freezer—were you supposed to thaw it before you put it on the grill?—he was going to have to go get groceries.
After Cal bought a huge round of groceries and made sure the meat, dairy, and other perishables were in cooler bags, he drove to Trish’s diner. He might not be ready to talk to Beck, but he’d be damned if he was going to be kept out of his favorite restaurant. He could’ve used the side entrance and slunk right up to the counter, but no—he went in the front and walked right through the lunch crowd. He got a few side-eyes as he made his way to the back, and he heard his name whispered a few times—Beck’s too—but no one actually confronted him. There were a few empty stools at the counter, so he settled onto one.
Trish was busy talking to another customer, but Lucy came out from the back to take his order. Trish must be short-staffed, because Lucy rarely worked there unless they were in a crunch. “Everything okay?”
She nodded. “Aunt Trish had somebody call in sick, and I had the day off from the store.”
“You still saving up for that truck?” She’d been longing for a bright red F150 ever since she’d turned sixteen.
“I sure am.”
“Well, good luck. I know you’ll get there one day.”
She beamed at him. “Thanks. How are you doing? It’s too bad about…”
“Me getting shunned?”
“Oh, no. I mean, yes, but I was talking about how Beck’s not—” Her face went white.
“How Beck’s what?”
“Oh, shoot, Trish warned me you might not know.”
Cal’s stomach was in knots and cold sweat broke out on his neck. “I might not know what?”
“That your boy’s cutting out on you.” It was Andy Johnson, Lulu Johnson’s fucking asshole son, and it sounded like he’d started drinking hours ago.
“Andy,” Lucy warned him, but he ignored her.
“Word is he took a job in Charlotte. I guess you’ll miss having somebody ready to take your—”
“That’s enough.” Trish’s youngest brother, Roscoe, grabbed Andy and spun him around. “You’re drunk, and it’s time for you to leave.”
Cal stood up too. “Thank you, but I can take care of this myself.” Cal wasn’t about to let the rest of the town think he needed defending. Trish and her family had done enough for him already. “Stepping outside is a good suggestion.”
Andy looked at Cal and then back at Roscoe. “You can’t tell me you’re ready to defend this sick fuck.”
Roscoe widened his stance and faced Andy. “Cal raises some of the best pork I’ve ever tasted, and my girl can’t stop talking about how awesome it was to feed a pony when she visited his farm.”
“Disgusting. I wouldn’t want a kid of mine anywhere near this man.”
“You’re not fit to be around him yourself.”
“Fine. You’ll see when all the decent folk stop coming here. You’ll wish you hadn’t sided with the devil then.” He looked right at Cal when he said that; then he turned to leave.
Cal would normally have said something back, but his head was spinning. Beck was leaving. And he hadn’t even bothered to tell Cal.
What did you expect when you stopped speaking to him? Why should he tell you?
After the door banged shut behind Andy, Cal turned to Roscoe.
“Anytime Marisa wants to come ride, I’ll work that out.”
“You got a horse small enough for her?”
“Yeah, Lightning, the one she fed when she visited with her school.”
Roscoe frowned. “If the beast’s fast as lightning, I don’t know—”
“The name’s a joke, because he’s so slow.”
“Well, in that case, I’ll call you later to work it out.”
They shook hands, and Roscoe headed toward the door.
“Do you want your usual?” Trish asked after sending a wide-eyed Lucy to take someone else’s order.
“Make it to-go.”
“Only if you promise to go talk to Beck.”
“What’s the point?”
She raised her brows.
“Fine. I’ll go talk to him, but he won’t like what I have to say.”
“He should’ve told you.”
Cal glared at her. “Can you just pack my food up?”
“Yes, and I’ll put some pie in there too.”
“Make it a whole one. Blueberry if you got it.”
Trish nodded. “Will do.”
After the confrontation with Beck, he was going to need a whole damn pie or maybe two.
***
Beck heard a knock at the door.
He carefully laid down the roses he’d been trimming for an arrangement. Who could it be? He’d already seen Elsie and Irene that morning at the grocery store, so he doubted they’d stop by.
Through the crack between the eyelet curtains, he saw Katie and Cal. A very angry Cal.
Oh shit. He knows. Somehow he knows.
Beck did not want to have this confrontation. Could he pretend he wasn’t home or sneak out the back door and run away? No, he wasn’t that much of a coward, was he? He stood there, frozen in place, staring at the door.
Cal gave a final hard bang on the door, and Beck heard him stomp away. A whimper from Katie said she was distressed by Cal’s behavior.
That sad sound launched Beck into action. Cal had every right to be mad, but even if Beck was too much of a chicken to admit how wrong he’d been not to tell Cal, Katie didn’t deserve to be caught up in this shit. He threw open the door and stepped onto the porch.
“Cal, wait!”
Cal kept going, but Katie stayed by Beck’s side.
When she gave a sharp bark, Cal turned, a snarl on his face. “You lied to me, and now you’ve turned my dog against me.”
Beck frowned. “I didn’t lie.”
“You said you’d manage the improvements at the farm, but now you’re leaving.”
“I didn’t think you wanted me to do that anymore. You didn’t speak to me for days and then said we should ‘take a break’ from each other. Why would I think you still wanted to work with me?”
Cal blew out a breath. “Can we do this in the house?”
Beck held the door open as Cal stomped into the entryway, and Katie slunk in behind him.
Cal waved her toward the porch. “Go on back outside, Katie.”
“It’s okay. She can stay.”
Katie smirked at Cal and trotted into the living room, where she curled up on Grandma’s recliner, looking as happy as could be. So much for her being worried about him and Cal.
“Do you want some coffee?” Beck asked.
“No, I want you to explain why everyone in town knows you’re leaving except me.”
Beck shook his head. “I don’t know. I didn’t tell anyone. I swear.”
“Right. That’s why Lucy let it slip and then fucking Andrew Johnson got in on the act.”
Oh, fuck. Beck’s head swam, and a buzzing in his ears made the rest of the sounds around him fade. Andrew Johnson worked at the bank where he’d met with an investment counselor the day before.
Cal had continued to rant while Beck had faded out. When he became aware again, he heard, “…Roscoe and everyone else in that diner knew.”
“Cal, I’m so sorry. I think I know what happened. I talked to Britt Harper at Carolina Bank. I mentioned I’d be moving, because I needed to set up some automatic payments. Johnson works there; I bet he overheard.”
“And then gloated to everyone, the son of a bitch.”
“I never meant for anyone to find out.”
“Including me,” Cal snapped.
“I was going to tell you.”
Cal narrowed his eyes. “When?”
“Um…”
“The day you packed your car and left?”
Maybe. “I’m sorry. I screwed this up.”
“Yeah, you did.”
A few moments passed in silence.
Cal wandered into the kitchen, and Beck followed him. He no longer looked angry. He looked defeated.
“I know I hurt you. I know I don’t have much to give, and I… I’m sorry.”
Beck drew in a shaky breath. “Cal, you have a lot to give. You’re just…”
“Stubborn. Difficult.”
“Yes, but—”
“Are you really leaving me?”
“Leaving you?” Was he serious? “You said we couldn’t see each other anymore.”
Cal shook his head. “I said I had to do what’s right for the farm. I didn’t mean we were done for good.”
“Really? Because I don’t see what’s going to change. You don’t think you can hold on to your farm and be in a relationship with me. What choice do we have?”
Cal paced the kitchen for a few moments. Then he stopped, dropping his hands onto the back of a chair as if he needed it to anchor himself. “God, Beck. You really don’t get it, do you?”
Beck’s throat tightened, and he had to force the words out. “G-get what?”
“That I… That…”
The color drained from Cal’s face, and his breaths were strained and shallow.
“Sit down.”
Cal ignored him.
“Cal, sit the fuck down before you pass out.”
Cal thunked into the chair. “I don’t want you to leave.”
There was more to it. He’d said those words before, so they couldn’t have caused this much stress. “Why?”
“I thought we were going to be partners.”
“Business partners?” Surely he didn’t mean…
“Yes, but I want more than that, and you fucking know it.”
“How can I know it if you don’t tell me?”
“I love you, okay? I fucking love you.”
Beck’s mouth dropped open, but no sound came out. Cal loved him?
“I know it’s not enough. I know what I’m asking, but… Fuck. I…” Cal gasped. “Can’t breathe.”
He was even paler than before.
“Put your head between your knees.”
“What?”
“You’re going to faint if you don’t.”
Cal wavered.
Stubborn asshole. Beck laid a hand on the back of his neck and pushed. Finally, he gave in and bent over.
Beck rubbed his back as he hung there, and his breaths slowly became more even.
“I love you too,” Beck said, his voice barely a whisper.
“Then why are you leaving?”
The anguish in Cal’s voice nearly made him pledge to stay there forever. “I can’t stay here when the man I love wants me to sneak around like a teenager.”
Cal eased back up slowly. He looked like shit. If only Beck could magically make everyone accept them being together. Of course, if he had that kind of power, he’d still be teaching in Georgia.
Cal wrapped an arm around Beck’s waist and pulled him onto his lap. “I want you. Right now. Just one last time.”
Beck knew how foolish it was to sleep with Cal again. As it was, he had no idea how he was going to live without him. Touching him again would only make that worse, but no way in hell was he turning Cal down.
“So have me.”
Cal stood, and Beck slid off his lap. Then Cal picked up the vase of flowers from the middle of the table and set it on a chair. With exquisite care, he moved the little tray with the sugar bowl and creamer and put it on the counter. Then, seemingly done with caution, he swept the placemats aside, grabbed Beck, and pushed him down until he was bent double, his face pressed to the cool wood.
Beck reached out, trying to grab the far side of the table. He had a feeling he would need something to hold on to.
“Stay there, just like that.”
Beck nodded. He had no desire to move.
Cal undid Beck’s jeans and shoved them and his underwear down. Then he ran his fingers down the crack of Beck’s ass, making him shiver.
“Tell me you need this as much as I do.” The despair in Cal’s voice made Beck’s chest ache. Fucking when they were so conflicted was probably the stupidest thing they’d done yet. But Beck had never wanted Cal more.
“I need this like I need to breathe,” Beck said. “I need you to wreck me.”
“Holy fuck,” Cal muttered.
“My pants. Wallet. Lube and condom.” Beck was beyond forming full sentences.
He heard Cal’s zipper go down, and then Cal ripped open the condom packet.
Just thinking about Cal fucking him like this, bent over the old table where he’d eaten as a kid, had Beck hard as steel. He turned his head so he could see Cal slick up. Then Cal moved into position and teased Beck’s hole with the tip of his cock.
“I don’t want to be gentle. I want to make sure you miss this.”
“You know I like rough. Fuck me, Cal.”
He drove in hard, not stopping until he was balls-deep.
Beck bit his lip to keep from crying out, but he couldn’t stop his body from tensing.
“Does it hurt?”
“Y-yes, you bastard.”
“Good, because I hurt too.”
“Cal, I—”
He drove in again. And again. And again. There was no chance to say anything else, no chance to breathe or think or do anything but float in a haze of pain and pleasure as his ass adjusted to Cal’s pounding. Once the discomfort faded, unrelenting ecstasy wracked him. He shoved back, his ass smacking against Cal.
Cal responded with a growl and tightened his grip on Beck’s hips as he fucked him even harder.
“Why can’t I stop wanting this? Wanting you?” Cal shouted. “What have you done to me?”
“Nothing…you…didn’t…do to me!”
Cal took Beck’s cock in his hand and pumped him. They’d been lovers long enough for Cal to know exactly how to bring Beck to the edge. Beck wanted to hold back. If this was their last time, he wanted as much of Cal as he could get.
“Come for me before I fucking split you in two,” Cal demanded.
Jesus! No way could he hold back now. Cal’s wicked mouth did him in. Cal kept pumping him, tightening his grip, brushing his palm over Beck’s cockhead. Heat. Pleasure so intense he thought it might kill him and—
“Yes!” His climax engulfed him, and he gave himself over to it.
Cal drove into him. “Fuck, Beck. I fucking love you.” He shuddered and started coming before Beck was done. He pulled out and drove in one more time, dragging over Beck’s sweet spot. Beck jerked, yanking back on the edge of the table. A terrible groan was their only warning. Then the top of the table cracked and separated from the base. Both of them fell, and Beck barely managed to cross his arms in time to prevent the wood crushing his face.
Cal stirred beneath him. “You okay?”
“I think so.”
Between the two of them, they pushed the table off. Katie rushed to them and started frantically licking their faces and snuffling their hair.
“Get back. Get back,” Cal scolded her. “We’re fine.” She retreated to a spot by the kitchen counter, and they both managed to sit up.
Beck flexed his wrist; it ached from catching a lot of the table’s weight, but he didn’t think it was seriously hurt, maybe just sprained.
“Are you okay? Really?” Cal asked.
He nodded. “What about you?”
“I’m fine,” Cal said as he stood and divested himself of the condom. Holy shit, he’d still been inside Beck when the table had broken. He tossed it and rejoined Beck on the floor.
“I’m fine. Let me see your wrist.”
Beck started to protest, but Cal was already supporting Beck’s arm with one hand and poking at his wrist with the other.
“Relax your hand.”
How was he supposed to do that when Cal was sitting there with his dick hanging out of his pants, having gone from angry sex god to tender nurse in seconds?
“I can’t check it if you tense up. How much does it hurt?”
“Only a little.”
“Be honest.”
“My wrist is fine.” His heart, on the other hand, was in pieces.
After manipulating Beck’s wrist a little more, Cal let him go. He blew out a long breath as he stood and fastened his pants.
“I think it’s okay, but you should probably go have it looked at.”
Beck raised a brow. “Would you?”
Cal looked away without answering.
“That’s what I thought. What would I say to the doctor anyway? I was being fucked so hard, I broke a table and it landed on me? The whole town would know all about it in less than an hour.”
“Fine, just be sure you take care of it.”
“I will.”
Cal reached for his shirt. “So, umm…good luck in Charlotte.”
Wait, was he leaving? Were things really over between them? He had said he wanted Beck one last time.
“I think it will be easier if we don’t talk anymore,” Cal said. “At least for a while. Getting over you is going to be hard enough without hearing your voice.”
Not talk anymore? Cut off all contact? “I… Um… Okay.”
Cal gave him a longing look. “I’ll miss you.”
Beck nodded, knowing that if he spoke, the words would turn to a sob.
Cal whistled for Katie, who was watching them warily. “Come on, girl. Let’s go home.”
Katie gave Beck a look as sad as Cal’s, and then they both walked out the door and out of his life.