“Okay, guys,” Connor said. “Get ready for bed while I help Beau get settled.”

The order brought a chorus of groans from Fiona, Micah, and Benji, and a murderous glare from Sean.

“It’s not even late, and it’s Friday,” he protested.

“You don’t have to go to bed,” Connor said. “You can watch TV or something, but start cleaning up the mess. I’ll be back in a minute, and I want it cleaned up by the time I get back.”

“I’m going out,” Sean said.

“This late?” Connor asked with a quick glance out the window. The sun had finally set completely, and darkness pressed against the windows.

“It’s eight-thirty,” Sean pointed out reasonably.

“Who are you going out with and where are you going?” Connor asked. “You know I like to know.”

Beau had a feeling this wasn't a new argument. He couldn’t imagine trying to control what a sixteen-year-old did with their time. Especially since Connor wasn’t their dad. He had to depend more on the kids’ willing compliance than on his questionable authority.

“I’m going out with Gray and the guys. We’re going to a movie and then probably to Rocket for some food.” Sean sighed, as if telling Connor his plans was an unreasonable request.

Connor wanted to argue, but even Beau felt he didn’t really have a leg to stand on. It’s not like Sean going out on a Friday night was a big deal. The kid was sixteen. He was supposed to go out and do stupid things with his friends. It was practically mandatory.

“Fine,” Connor said. “Just don’t hang out at Moore Wood getting in trouble, and be home by midnight. And text me when the movie is over.”

Headlights flashed across the kitchen window, and a horn beeped, loud and obnoxious. Sean was out the door before Connor had even finished talking.

Connor sighed and looked around the room. “Can you guys clean up a little here? I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.”

There were a few more complaints but Connor ignored them, instead showing Beau to the door. The night was chilly but not cold as they made their way through the side yard to the trailer. Connor looked up, and Beau did the same, but clouds obscured the stars. They shifted and the full moon peered back at them.

Beau itched to reach out and take Connor’s hand. He stuck his hand in his pocket instead. “Moore Wood?” he snickered.

“Yeah.” Connor shook his head. “You’d think someone would have picked up on that when they were naming it.”

“So you were a Marine?” Beau asked after a long pause in the conversation.

“Yeah.”

“Are you allowed to wear your uniform like that?” He thought he’d read something once about when you could and couldn’t wear it.

“Well, technically, you can wear them for weddings,” Connor said with a grin. “And we said no press for this blessed event, so I doubt I’ll get caught.”

Beau laughed. “How long were you in?”

“Nine years and thirty-five days. But who’s counting?”

Nine years. That was a long time, longer than Beau had been playing professional hockey. “Do you mind if I ask how old you are?”

Connor shook his head. “I’m twenty-eight. I’ll be twenty-nine in November. You?”

“Just turned twenty-nine in January. So I’m guessing you leaving the Marines had something to do with the kids?” Beau asked. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want,” he added quickly.

Connor shrugged. “It’s not like it’s any big secret. I had to come home when their dad and my mom died. It happened a couple of months ago.”

They walked over to the oak tree, and Beau leaned both hands on the big branch again. It didn’t budge. This really was an amazing tree. He’d seen these old oaks from the road, but he’d never been this up close and personal with one. “Gonna sit with me now?”

Connor walked up to the main trunk of the tree. “Depends. Mind if I smoke?”

“No. Go ahead.” He laughed when Connor pulled a slightly squashed pack of cigarettes from a small depression where a large branch split from the main trunk.

“I’m trying to quit,” Connor admitted, thumbing through the pack, searching for one that was relatively dry and intact. “The kids, you know?”

“Yeah.” Beau had never smoked much. Only now and then when he was drinking—something else he didn’t do much, at least during the season.

“Come over here,” Connor said walking around to the side of the tree away from the house. He leaned back against the tree, bracing one foot on the trunk. Beau watched his hands as he lifted the cigarette to his mouth and flicked his lighter to life. Bringing the flame to the end of it, he inhaled until the end glowed red in the dark. He exhaled with a sigh, blowing the smoke up toward the sky.

“Long day?” Beau asked.

“Long day. Long month. Long life,” Connor said with a humorless chuckle. “So, about four months ago, my mother and the kids’ dad were killed in a single vehicle car accident.”

“I’m sorry.” Beau figured something had happened to them, and there were only so many ways two people died at the same time.

“My mom and Brent had this gorgeous classic Mustang. Cherry red, soft top, the whole shebang.” He shook his head, taking another drag and letting the smoke out slowly. His eyes were unfocused as if he were picturing the car. “Not a whole lot of safety features on those old cars. No airbags, no anti-lock brakes, nothing.”

Beau knew where this was going, but he let Connor continue, despite wanting to pull Connor in for a hug.

“Brent swerved to avoid a deer and ended up hitting a ditch. The car flipped a few times and landed in a thicket off the road. Someone called nine-one-one, but it was too late. They were dead before the ambulance arrived.”

Connor’s voice was surprisingly even, almost emotionless. More than likely, he’d had to recite the story several times.

This time, Beau did reach out. He placed his hand on Connor’s arm, stroking with his thumb. “I know words don’t fix anything, but for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

The end of Connor’s cigarette glowed as he inhaled, the red light reflecting in his eyes. He let out a slow stream of smoke and was quiet for a long minute. “It’s just been hard, you know?” he said softly. “Sean and Fiona were kids when I left. Micah was a toddler, and Benji hadn’t even been born yet. I feel like I hardly know them. And then the whole house thing, I don’t know how I’m going to make it up to them.” He gestured back at the house with the cigarette. “I don’t even know why I’m telling you all this. You probably don’t even care.”

Beau leaned against the tree, close enough to Connor that they were pressed together, shoulder to hip. “I do care. I can’t even imagine taking on this kind of responsibility. It’s admirable.”

Connor turned his head away from Beau and took a deep drag on his cigarette. Smoke drifted slowly up into the air, and Connor snubbed the butt out against the bottom of his shoe and stuck it in a Coke can wedged in the roots. Then, to Beau’s surprise, Connor leaned back against the tree and ever so slightly into Beau’s side.

Beau slid his arm behind Connor’s waist.

“I was a little shit to Brent when he married my mom.”

“How old were you?”

“Twelve. I was pissed at him for taking care of my mom when it was my job. I was pissed at myself for not being able to take care of my mom. Just generally an angry kid.”

“I’m sure Brent understood. He was a grown man.”

Connor shrugged. “We’ll never know, will we?” He pushed off from the tree, and Beau shivered as cold air replaced Connor’s body heat. “Least I can do is take care of his kids best I can.” He walked away.

Beau followed silently behind him to the trailer.

The night was chilly, and Beau was relieved when they closed the door behind them.

Connor walked over to the fridge and grabbed a couple of bottles of beer while Beau looked around. A baby monitor sat on the dinette table; no doubt it had been for Connor’s mom and stepdad to be able to hear the kids. Connor turned it on. Over the static, Beau heard the sounds of the kids talking and things banging.

“Want one?” Connor asked, holding out a bottle.

“Do we have time? Are the hordes going to come get us?”

“Eventually, but they’re good for a little while. They’ll eat the rest of the candy when I’m not there and watch TV I won’t let them watch.”

They sat at the little dinette, and Connor picked at the label of his beer.

“You want to talk about it?” Beau asked gently.

“I don’t even know you.”

“Doesn’t that make it easier in a way? And when this season is over, I’ll be gone, so you won’t have to worry about me spilling the beans.”

Connor looked up, alarmed. “When is the season over?”

“April,” Beau said. “Assuming we don’t make the playoffs, which would take a miracle.”

“So you’re leaving in April?”

Beau shrugged. “End of. And probably. I don’t have a contract for next year, yet. And I usually go home on the off-season, work around the ranch, take care of business.”

“That’s really soon.” Connor looked at Beau like he was seeing him for the first time.

Beau shrugged. “Don’t worry. We’ll get all this work done before then. And if not, I can stay a little longer.” He finished his beer.

“We don’t have much longer. To put the cherry on top of the shit sundae, social services came by the other day and basically threatened to take the kids away if I couldn’t get the construction done in thirty days.” Connor drained the last of his bottle and went to grab another one. “Apparently the kids need their own bedrooms. They’ll be back in two weeks to ‘check my progress’.”

“We’ll get it done, I promise.” Beau repeated. He would skip practice if he had to. What did it matter? He was basically done with hockey anyway. His stomach clenched the way it did every time he thought about walking away from the only job he’d ever had. It was only a game, he reminded himself. It’s not like he was on a real team. Not that he’d wanted that kind of pressure.

“It just feels like everyone’s watching me,” Connor said, sitting back down. He’d brought Beau a new beer, too. “Judging me, you know? These ladies from the church stoppin’ by, all smiles and casseroles, but what they really want is gossip to share during coffee hour,” he continued. “The ‘surprise’ social services visit happened after a lady from church stopped by with a basket of fried chicken, and it was just Fiona, Micah, and Benji.”

Beau frowned. “I don’t see the problem with that. Fiona's old enough she could be paid to babysit him. Sean’s practically an adult.”

Connor snorted and pointed the beer bottle at him. “You think I don’t know that? Hell, I was left alone for longer than that when I was a younger than Benji. My mom had to work, you know? She always had two, sometimes three, jobs.”

Beau had been sent to boarding schools across the ocean when he was eight, but he didn’t think that really compared to leaving a little kid completely unsupervised. Thinking about tiny Connor eating cold cereal in front of a TV made Beau want to hug present-day Connor. And not in the sexual way he had earlier, though that hadn’t gone away, even though the mood had been slightly killed.

Maybe Beau could help take Connor’s mind off his troubles.

Connor sighed. “But I guess when you’re the mom and pop, you got more leeway on what you can and can’t do. I’m under a microscope here. The kids’ grandparents—Brent’s parents, I’m not even sure my mom’s mother is still alive—lobbied pretty hard for custody. Not that I blame them; last time they saw me, I was one step outta juvie. But they live in Maine, the kids barely know them, and they’re pushing eighty.”

“How’d you win, then?” Beau couldn’t even imagine.

“They really didn’t have a leg to stand on. The wills were clear, and the bulk of the law is on my side. Brent and Mom asked me a long time ago if I would take care of the kids if anything happened to them. What was I gonna say? No?” Connor cleared his throat. “So enough about me. Want me to give you the grand tour?”

A change of subject was just what this moment needed. “Might as well.”

“You pretty much saw everything before. We’re sitting in the dining room.” He pointed to the fridge and sink. “Right there’s your kitchen. Put the table up, this doubles as your living room. And if you’ll come with me, I’ll show you to the bedroom.”

“Yeah, okay,” he said with a grin.

He followed Connor to the back of the trailer, where a small doorway separated the bedroom from the rest of the living area. The bedroom itself was small, barely big enough for the two of them and the bed.

Beau took advantage of the opportunity to back Connor against the wall. Enough tiptoeing around it. He had a feeling alone-time was a rare commodity around these parts.

“Yeah?” Connor asked, even as his hands went to Beau’s waist.

Beau held his gaze. “Are you seriously asking me that? After I practically eye-fucked you while you were getting undressed?”

“You could be in denial, I don’t know. I’m not going to be making any assumptions just because you seemed warm for my form.” His hands squeezed Beau’s hips, rucking up his shirt.

“Yes. I am gay, I said it earlier, remember? And yes, I want to have sex with you.” Beau tried to keep a straight face while Connor’s fingers slipped under his shirt, pebbling Beau’s skin with goosebumps.

“So am I, and so do I,” Connor said with a grin. As if Beau didn’t already know that. “That gonna be a problem if we’re living so close?”

Beau eyed him up and down. “Might be,” he admitted, taking a bold step closer. “If you change your mind.”

“I don’t think you have to worry about that.” It was so much easier dealing with men who knew who they were. Dragging men out of their mental closets, though fun in its own way, was losing its appeal. Beau wanted to be with someone who owned their sexuality.

“How was it, being gay in the Marines?”

Connor shrugged. “’Bout the same as being gay in Texas. Though Hidden Creek ain’t so bad. I wasn’t the only one, and I was never short on hookups.”

“Do the kids know?”

Connor frowned. “I don’t know. It’s not that I’m deliberately hiding anything, the subject just never came up. I don’t go out with anyone. I don’t think it occurs to them that I’d want to.”

Enough talking. Beau leaned forward and kissed Connor, pressing him harder against the wall. He tasted a little bit like smoke and a lot like beer. He groaned, and Beau pulled away just far enough to talk. His lips brushed against the scruff of Connor’s jaw as he spoke.

“Like you said, I’m not the only one. Can usually find a hookup if that’s what you’re looking for.”

Tangling his fingers in Beau’s hair, Connor tugged his head far enough to look into his eyes. “That what you’re looking for, Mister I-never-stay-put?”

Beau stared into Connor’s dark brown eyes and ran his hand up the back of his neck. The short hairs there tickled his palm, reminding Beau that Connor was newly out of the military. He pictured Connor kitted out with a helmet and body armor, carrying a gun through the mountains of Afghanistan. He had so much depth, Beau wanted to talk to him about pretty much everything, almost as much as he wanted to kiss him again.

“I have no idea what I’m looking for,” Beau said with uncharacteristic honesty. He traced the edges of Connor’s Marine Corps tattoo on his bicep, following the shape of the eagle’s wings. “Hopefully, I’ll know it when I see it.”

Connor cursed under his breath, grabbed Beau’s upper arm and flipped them. Beau’s back slammed into the wall as Connor’s mouth came down on his.

Connor’s hands roamed up and down Beau’s ass and thighs, kneading and stroking the muscles, as Beau leaned into the kiss. And damn was it a great kiss. Connor’s lips were firm. Everything about Connor was firm. Beau slid his hand to the back of Connor’s head, holding him in place. Connor’s lips parted, and Beau slipped inside.

His cock ached, so he ground it hard against Connor’s thigh, only to be pressed even more firmly against the wall. Connor’s hard cock rubbed against his thigh. Oh yeah, he could get used to this.

Connor palmed his ass, muffling his moan with a sloppy kiss. They rutted against each other like teenagers, the painful press of his zipper adding just the perfect counterpoint to the hot spikes of pleasure.

Skin, he needed skin. Beau slid his hand under Connor’s shirt, earning him a shiver from the other man. He slipped his fingers down the back of Connor’s jeans, caressing the firm muscle, his thumbs swept back and forth across the soft skin of his lower back.

“Fuck,” Connor groaned into Beau’s mouth.

Emboldened, Beau shoved his hand down further, cupping Connor’s entire ass cheek in his palm. Oh, yes. That felt amazing.

And then it was over. Connor took a step back, his breathing ragged. “I can’t. Not tonight. I have to get back to the kids.”

As if on cue, the baby monitor crackled with a shriek. “I’m telling!” Benji yelled at his sisters.

“How close are you?” Beau asked, panting. He knew it wouldn’t take him very long at all if either one of them simply touched his dick.

Connor groaned and shoved his cock against Beau again, his eyes rolling up in his head. “So fucking close.”

“Good.” Beau slid down the wall to his knees, hands flying to the button of Connor’s jeans.

“Fuck, Beau,” Connor moaned, bracing his hands on the wall. “Ain’t gonna take much.”

“I’m counting on it,” Beau said, pulling Connor’s cock out and swallowing it down.

“Fuck,” Connor shouted, pounding a fist against the wall.

Another shriek came from the monitor, and Beau chuckled. He clamped his hands on Connor’s ass to keep him from pulling away, and took him deeper.

He’d have time later to admire Connor’s cock, to tease him and drag him to the edge over and over. Right now he was going for a land-speed blowjob record.

Wrapping a hand around the base of Connor’s cock, he pulled off and looked up at the gorgeous man above him. Connor’s dark eyes bored into his. “Fuck me,” he said, voice rough, and then went back to business.

“God damn,” Connor said, thrusting in and out of Beau’s mouth, the wet sounds loud and erotic in the silence of the trailer.

With his free hand, Beau ripped open the button of his jeans and grabbed his own cock. He moaned around Connor’s dick, and Connor groaned in response.

Beau whimpered as he dragged himself close to the edge of orgasm. Connor’s cock swelled and twitched and then he was coming down Beau’s throat with a ragged yell.

Beau held him tight, hand flying up and down his cock, grunting as he came so hard his eyes rolled back in his head.

“Jesus. Holy shit, Beau.” He pulled away from Beau, cock dragging over his tongue.

Beau gave one last suck, laughing breathlessly at Connor’s yelp and at the way his legs trembled under Beau’s hand.

Connor reached down and tilted Beau’s chin up. His eyes bored into Beau’s, and he gently urged him to stand up. Beau was thankful for the wall behind him as he stood on shaky legs, Connor’s hand guiding him carefully.

“Goddamn,” Connor whispered, leaning in for a reverent kiss.

Beau’s hands clutched at Connor’s strong arms. They rested their foreheads against each other, both breathing heavily.

“Go away, jerkface!” Micah yelled over the monitor.

“I have to go,” Connor said.

Beau nodded silently in agreement. He wasn’t sure he could speak or what he might say. What the hell had that been? He wanted to wrap Connor up in his arms and drag him down on the bed that stood so tantalizingly near.

Connor grinned as he pulled himself back together.

Beau zipped his jeans up carefully. “I’ll clean that up,” he said, pointing at the mess he had made on the linoleum.

“Don’t take too long,” Connor said. Eyes searching Beau’s face, he leaned in for another quick kiss.

Beau watched him leave, feeling for the first time in a long time that he might have taken on more than he could handle.

Three months. He only had to make it through three months, and then he could move on to the next thing.

For some reason, the thought of moving on didn’t cheer him up the way it usually did.

Strange.

Beau’s phone rang. A quick glance at the phone showed it was his mother calling. Oh, man. She wanted to know when he’d be home. Even knowing that Connor would give anything for a call from his own mother didn’t stop Beau from sending the call to voice mail. Tomorrow. He’d call her tomorrow for sure.