Chapter Sixteen
THE DRY pads of Flo’s paws connected with Max’s cheek. Annoyed, he clenched his eyes shut and batted her away. It was the third night in a row he’d fallen asleep on the couch, and the third night she’d woken him up.
Flo pawed him again, whining long and low until he reluctantly peeled his eyes open. “What? Can’t you tell I’m asleep?”
Her stare was solemn, but not unduly distressed. Max checked himself for signs of a seizure, but found none. “See? I’m fine. Go away.”
Undeterred, Flo tugged on the sleeve of his hooded sweatshirt. She wanted him up.
Irritated, Max gave in and sat up. He stared at the collie, tilting his head to one side. “What’s up, girl?”
Satisfied he was awake, she padded away. Max followed her, knowing she’d only come back and bug him if he didn’t. She stopped by the back door. He let her out, wondering sleepily if there were some night fishermen out on the lake, but judging by the lashing rain, he doubted it.
He leaned on the doorframe, expecting Flo to bound away and investigate whatever had disturbed her. She didn’t, and when he belatedly checked the porch, he saw why. “Jed?”
Jed didn’t respond. He was sitting on the wooden deck in the rain, his eyes fixed on something Max couldn’t see.
Max touched Jed’s shoulder. He was freezing. Dressed only in jeans and a thin T-shirt, he was soaked to the skin. “Jed? You okay?”
Silence. For an unending moment, Max feared Jed wouldn’t respond at all, then he turned his head and Max’s heart sank. Something was wrong, really wrong. He crouched down and held out his hand. “Jed, come on. It’s bloody arctic out here, and you’re wet through.”
Jed glanced around, as though he’d just become aware of his surroundings. He blinked and took Max’s outstretched hand. Max slipped an arm under Jed’s shoulders and helped him to his feet, careful not to jar his injured leg, and once upright, Jed seemed to come back into himself.
Max released him and pointed again to the back door. “Let’s go inside.”
Jed preceded him inside, sank onto a kitchen chair, and began untying his boots. His usually deft fingers fumbled, numb from the cold, and Max considered helping, but something warned him off. Instead, he made his way to the bathroom and turned the shower on full blast. He left the water to heat up and went to Jed’s room, where he retrieved dry sweats and a T-shirt from the dresser.
Jed was up by the time he got back, standing by the kitchen sink, rubbing absently at his left hip. Max handed him the stack of dry clothes. “Shower’s on. Go warm up.”
He half expected Jed to snap out of his daze, to laugh and toss the clothes back in his face, but he didn’t. He took the bundle and disappeared down the hall.
Max drifted restlessly around the cabin while Jed was in the bathroom, wiping up Flo’s muddy paw prints and then making tea he was fairly sure Jed wouldn’t drink. He set the blue donkey mug Tess had given Jed for Christmas down on Jed’s nightstand and went to his own room to change. As had become his habit in recent days, he’d fallen asleep in his clothes.
He undressed slowly, taking his time to avoid loitering by the bathroom door. Jed had been MIA for eight long days, and though it was painfully obvious he’d had a heavy week of his own, he’d missed a lot: Frank’s funeral, an epic meltdown from Nick. Even the New Year had come and gone.
The shower shut off. Max pulled a T-shirt over his head and waited for the bathroom door to open before he ventured down the hall to Jed’s room.
He paused in the doorway, observing Jed, who sat bare-chested on the edge of his bed, his tired gaze cast down, and a T-shirt clutched in both hands. A swathe of moonlight shone through the window, casting an eerie light over him and the marbled burn on his shoulder. Drops of water clung to his skin from the shower, and other than being shirtless, he didn’t look much different from the freezing, rain-soaked state Max had found him in on the porch.
A long moment passed before Max found the courage to cross the room. He took the shirt from Jed’s hands and put it back on the dresser. “You still look freezing. Get into bed.”
“Hmm?” Jed raised his head, his hooded eyes so dazed Max wondered for a moment if he was drunk.
No. That wasn’t possible. Jed didn’t drink. If Dan was to be believed, not so much as a beer had passed his lips since he was sixteen. Max reached around him and snagged the covers. “Bed,” he repeated. “Come on, get in.”
Jed scooted back and folded his long body into the bed. He held up the sheets for Max almost absently, as though it was something they did every day.
Max slid in beside Jed with equal lack of thought. With Flo curled up in the corner of the room, he didn’t feel the need to be anywhere else.
He lay on his back and watched, faintly amused, as Jed shoved the covers down to his waist and pushed his pillow aside. He’d noticed that before, the way Jed couldn’t get comfortable in a real bed. It was almost like he didn’t know how. Max touched his shoulder. “Come here.”
Moving with care, Jed followed his direction and put his head on his chest, letting his bad leg rest over Max’s own. Max rubbed his hands over Jed’s arms and shoulders, noting the strange texture of the burn scar but paying it no heed. “It’s been weird around here without you. Where did you go?”
Jed closed his eyes. He was silent for so long Max wondered if he’d fallen asleep. The low rumble of his voice took him by surprise. “Phoenix.”
Max ran a tentative hand through Jed’s damp hair. It was growing longer by the day. “What’s in Phoenix?”
“A memorial service.”
“For a soldier?”
“Yeah. A friend.”
A tremor ran through Jed. It was subtle, but Max felt it. He tightened his arms around Jed, unsure if he was cold or distressed, and rubbed his chin gently on his head. “I’m sorry.”
Jed looked up. Suddenly, he seemed closer than ever. “Don’t be. It’s over now. It doesn’t matter anymore.”
Max gazed down at Jed, absorbing the heartrending pain in his eyes. His hand moved of its own volition to cup Jed’s face. He swiped his thumb gently over his cheek and brushed away the solitary tear. “I missed you.”
Jed put his head down and closed his eyes again. “I know. I’m sorry.”
They lay quiet for a while, weighted down with a sorrow so deep Max felt it like it was his own. He wiped away Jed’s silent tears, knowing they came from a festering, open wound. The crippling pain of grief was one he knew well, and it hurt to see Jed so wrecked, hurt so much he couldn’t bear it.
“Max?”
Max looked down. Jed stared back at him, his eyes wide, but before he could utter a word, Max leaned down and kissed him.
Jed kissed him back, bringing his hand to the back of Max’s head and then pulling him close, holding him firm. Something in the air shifted. Heat rose, and the kiss exploded into something primal. Lips, tongues, and teeth. Grasping hands and stuttered breath.
The kiss seemed to go on forever before Max came to his senses. He pulled away with a sharp gasp, realizing he’d done it again—thrown himself at Jed when all he needed was comfort and a friend. “I’ll let you sleep now.”
He backed away and started to slide out of the bed.
Jed caught his wrist with a lightning-fast snap of his hand. “Stay.”
JED STARED at Max in awe. The room was dark and lit only by the moonlight, but even in the shadows, the leonine shape of Max’s lithe, naked form was beautiful.
He wasn’t quite sure how they’d come to this. He could barely remember the three-day drive from Phoenix, but in a place where nothing was as it should be, the feel of Max’s lips on him was the only thing that felt right.
Once sure of their path, it seemed that nothing could come between them. Nothing could come between this.
Max lay over him, holding his weight off him and peppering kisses over his chest. The scars on Jed’s body didn’t seem to bother him. In a distant part of his mind, Jed was relieved, though not surprised. Max had told him before that he believed every soul was scarred, one way or another.
Jed reached for Max again, pulling him close, losing himself in his smooth, dark skin, and kissing him like he’d never kissed another man before. Kissing Max was different. Everything was different with Max.
Max broke away and fumbled with the bottom drawer of the nightstand. A condom and a bottle of lube appeared on the mattress beside them. Jed eyed them like it was the first time he’d ever seen such things. It had been a while since he’d had the need for either.
Max touched his face. “Show me what you want.”
The words were low, whispered, almost, but they were earnest, and Jed understood the meaning behind them. He thought about it for less than a second before he reached for the condom and pushed it into Max’s hand. It had been years since he’d last bottomed, and more than a year since he’d fucked at all, but he needed it. “I want you to fuck me.”
Max rolled a condom onto himself with steady hands, keeping his eyes on Jed. He flicked the cap of the lube bottle. “Get comfortable. I don’t want to hurt you.”
Jed rolled onto his good side, turning his back on Max, and curled his bad leg as high as he could stand. Max drew the sheets up over them and positioned himself behind him, molding his body around Jed and consuming him. He snaked an arm under Jed’s neck and took his hand, using his other to align their bodies. He pressed forward slowly and joined them with an aching tenderness.
Jed squeezed Max’s fingers in a death grip. There was pain, a lot of pain, but it felt good, cleansing, like it was tearing through him the way the bullet had and making him whole again. He fell forward slightly, mashing his face into a pillow, and groaned, long and low, pushing back onto Max’s cock.
Max responded gently, easing his hips in a slow, circling thrust and pressing soft kisses to the back of Jed’s neck.
Jed drove his fist into the mattress. It wasn’t enough, but it was almost too much to bear. He took himself in hand, matching Max’s rhythm with every flick of his wrist. Sweat trickled down his back and spots danced in front of his eyes. He was already painfully close, but he fought it and gritted his teeth as his body locked up.
Behind him, Max trembled and muffled his ragged cries by sinking his teeth softly into Jed’s back. His movements became steadily more erratic until warmth finally pulsed where they were joined.
Jed let out a desperate, soundless moan and let the climax he’d been fighting roar through him. He shivered like he had a fever, his breath coming in stuttering gasps. Max raised his head and pulled him impossibly closer, making soothing noises Jed didn’t understand until he felt the wetness trickle over his cheeks again.
It took a while, but eventually, Max loosened his grip on him and leaned back. “Can you roll over?”
Jed steeled himself and rolled over, right into Max’s arms as their shared heartbeats slowed to a dull roar.
Max smiled, his relief evident in the dim, predawn light, and kissed his forehead. “All right?”
“Yeah.” Jed couldn’t articulate anything else. He felt detached from himself, though not in a bad way. He pressed his lips against Max’s chest and centered himself with the scent of sweat and fresh cotton.
Max rubbed Jed’s shoulder. “I’m going to clean up. I’ll be back in a sec.”
He slid from the bed and padded out of the room, but he was back before Jed could reconcile himself to the fact that he was gone. Max cleaned them both up and settled back in the bed, then coaxed Jed to lie over him once more.
He put his arm around Jed’s shoulders and kissed the top of his head. “There’s no past tense when you lose someone, Jed. You just keep on loving them.”