Chapter Nine
“YOU LOOK AS RODE HARD as I feel.”
Scott turned around and met Minh’s bleary eyes with his own. “I barely got any sleep.” He yawned and slumped against the counter, waiting impatiently for the coffeemaker to stop gurgling. “You?”
Minh trudged over and slumped next to him. “I haven’t been fucked so long, so hard, and so well, since—since ever. I’m surprised I can walk.” He went on slyly, “Don’t know why our cutie pie tossed that delicious man back into the pond, but I was more’n happy to hook him.”
Scott shrugged. “Oh, yeah, being someone’s Plan B is always awesome.”
Minh gasped, giving him a shove. “Well. Aren’t we the catty little bitch this morning.”
The coffeemaker finished, and Scott reached over Minh’s head to grab a mug, ignoring his disgruntled pout.
“Thank you, Jesus, is that coffee I smell?” Chris staggered into the room, shirtless in a pair of cotton sleep pants, all bedhead and salt-and-pepper stubble. Minh lit up like a Christmas tree, dancing over to him and into his arms, lifting his face for a kiss.
Scott poured his coffee, trying to ignore them as they murmured together, Chris at last pushing Minh up against the island and sliding his hands inside the short, silky robe he wore.
“Mmm,” he growled. “I want you more than coffee, baby.”
Minh gave him a wicked grin, reaching down to cup him through his pants. “Oh, yeah. Just checking to see if I need to run get your Viagra, daddy. Nope.”
Scott rolled his eyes as Chris choked in outrage. “I’ll show you Viagra, you little—” He boosted Minh up onto the counter, then shoved his legs apart and moved between them, yanking his head back to kiss him thoroughly.
By the time Scott left the kitchen, Minh’s robe was on the floor and Chris’s pants were down around his thighs. Scott beat a hasty retreat. Jesus, they’re fucking shameless. He snorted. Maybe Minh had finally met his match.
He tiptoed back into the bedroom with his coffee, glad to see Rylan was still undisturbed, sprawled out on his stomach in the middle of the rumpled bed. He was dead to the world, and Scott paused next to him, unable to resist brushing his tangled brown hair gently off his forehead. Rylan didn’t move, didn’t even twitch, so Scott slipped out onto the balcony and sank into a wide padded chair, propping his feet on the railing. The sun was barely up, the sky a brilliant blue, the sound of the creek burbling in the distance warring with the call of the birds. He took a deep breath of the crisp air, sipping his coffee.
Despite the peace of the morning, Scott felt antsy, on edge…raw, like his skin was paper-thin and the merest touch would leave a deep, painful bruise. He supposed he should be grateful to Rylan for forcing him to unpack some of his shit—what was it he’d said before, that secrets lose their power once they’re shared? And truth be told, it had been a relief to share with Rylan about the truck stop, Rylan’s reasonable perspective on it going a long way toward Scott being able to forgive himself for that someday.
“Hey.”
Rylan’s fingers were gentle in his hair, and despite Scott’s roiling, confusing emotions, he couldn’t help but pull Rylan down onto his lap and bury his face against his sleep-warmed neck.
“You okay?” Rylan stroked his hair, his forehead, running his hand soothingly over his bunched shoulders. “I never heard you come to bed last night.”
“It was about two thirty or so.” Scott dragged his lips over the hollow of his throat. “I’m glad I didn’t wake you.”
“I wouldn’t have minded.” Rylan tilted his head back invitingly, groaning as Scott licked his way down to a firm brown nipple.
Suddenly the sound of a crash echoed from below, giggles and curses following.
Rylan snapped his eyes open. “What the hell?”
He looked so bewildered, so dazed, so adorable, that Scott pulled him close again, trying to stifle his laughter.
“I’m pretty sure Minh and Chris are fucking on the island in the kitchen right now,” he said bluntly, enjoying Rylan’s blank stare as Rylan tried to fight off the haze of arousal and process his words. “I think they knocked something off.”
“See what happens when an old man tries to pretend he’s a porn star?” Chris’s exclamation of pure disgust drifted up to them, and Rylan clapped his hand over his mouth, his eyes now dancing with mirth.
“Oh my God, that’s hilarious.”
Scott felt a pang of regret when Rylan climbed off his lap and settled in the chair next to him, stretching his legs out and crossing his ankles. He grabbed Scott’s half-empty cup of coffee and took a huge sip.
They gazed out at the morning view for a few moments until Rylan said, “I’m so happy those two hit it off. Minh’s good for him, I think.”
Scott smiled fondly. “Minh’s good for everyone. Even with all he’s been through, he’s a truly happy guy. Loving, grateful for what he has.”
“We should all be like Minh,” Rylan said, raising the coffee cup in a toast. “Chris lost someone, over in Libya.”
Scott glanced at him, surprised. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. I’m not sure if they were romantically involved or just friends, but Chris was working with a group of journalists in a small village held by rebels. Word came down there were government soldiers on the road just outside, and Chris’s friend tried to make everyone leave. Chris wanted to stay, try to get the perfect shot.” Rylan grimaced. “When they realized their mistake, it was too late—the guy was dead, and Chris and his colleagues were taken prisoner.”
“Chris was a hostage in Libya?”
“Yeah, for like a month. That’s why he’s taking so much time off here in Arizona, visiting with his parents and trying to get up the nerve to go back in the field. He won’t talk about his captivity.”
“Jesus.” Scott blew out a breath. “Well, let’s hope Minh and Chris continue to enjoy each other. They certainly fuck like rabbits.”
“Sex therapy,” Rylan said with a smirk. “Not a bad thing. Not at all.”
He suddenly stood and straddled Scott’s lap, running his fingers through Scott’s hair and pulling his head back to kiss him. His hot, sweet mouth and silky tongue soon had Scott’s head spinning, and he groaned, digging his fingers into the tight globes of Rylan’s ass, encouraging his movement against him.
“I’m too sore to take you inside me,” Rylan whispered against his lips, sliding his hand between them to rub Scott’s dick. Scott caught his breath, lifting his hips into the touch. “But I want to watch you come.”
Scott growled, pushing Rylan’s boxer briefs down around his thighs, lifting his own hips again to shove his sweats down. He gasped as Rylan ground against him, the wet heads of their cocks sliding against each other and along the muscles of their abs.
Scott pushed up as Rylan thrust down, their grunts and moans a rhythmic accompaniment to the squeaking of the chair beneath them. Rylan threw his head back and cried out as Scott gripped both their shafts and stroked, pressing his thumb into Rylan’s slit and circling.
“Come for me, baby,” Scott crooned. “Shoot your load all over me.”
Rylan buried his face in Scott’s neck, his panting breaths gusting against his sweaty skin. “Gonna come so hard. So hard for you.” He thrust a few more times into Scott’s hand, and a split second later, hot jets of creamy white erupted all over both of them, stringing through Scott’s fingers.
“That’s it.” Scott stroked him through it, cupping Rylan’s balls in a gentle massage. “Give it all up for me. So beautiful.”
Rylan kissed Scott desperately, whimpering down into his mouth, his body shuddering. The sound of Rylan’s pleasure and the feel of his cock pulsing against him sent Scott’s own orgasm sweeping over him, and he groaned as his hot fluid spurted out to mix with Rylan’s.
Rylan cupped Scott’s face with shaking hands, stroking his thumbs over his cheekbones, rocking his hips against Scott’s as their breathing slowed. “I love you,” he whispered, pressing their foreheads together. “Love you.”
Scott hugged him close before standing up with Rylan still wrapped around him. He carried him into the bathroom, not putting him down until the hot water from the shower was cascading over them, keeping his arms tight around Rylan’s waist.
Scott leaned down to kiss him gently. “You are the only one in my life who’s ever backed up those words with your actions. That means something to me, okay?”
They washed, got out of the shower, and dressed before tiptoeing downstairs. The kitchen was thankfully empty of naked lovers, any mess they’d made cleaned up, so Scott made a fresh pot of coffee.
It wasn’t long until Chris came down dressed in faded jeans and a tight black T-shirt, looking bright-eyed with a spring in his step. “Good morning,” he chirped. “Hey, sleepyhead.” Scott felt his lips tighten when he ruffled Rylan’s hair and gave him a quick kiss, but he forced himself to smile and shake Chris’s hand when he extended it to him.
“Morning,” he mumbled. “Fresh coffee over there. Help yourself.”
“Hellooo, my loves!” Minh swept in next, wearing a flowing aqua shirt half-unbuttoned, skinny black jeans, and chunky-soled boots. He was also sporting eyeliner and shiny lip gloss, and his black hair was spiked.
He looked amazing.
“So we’re headed into Sedona for brunch,” he announced. “Y’all want to come with? Let me tell you, the shopping is amazing. Galleries, jewelry, little boutiques that make my heart go pitter-patter.”
“I thought it was me who did that,” Chris growled, reaching around to fill his hands with Minh’s ass and give him a squeeze. Minh wiggled up against him, twining his arms around Chris’s neck. They nuzzled noses, and Scott rolled his eyes.
“Oh, brother. Can you two give it a rest already? Seriously.”
Rylan was beaming at them, and he looked at Scott. “I’d love to go.”
“Then we’ll go. But Chris drives.”
A quick run upstairs to grab wallets, phones, and cameras, and soon they were ensconced in Chris’s SUV and headed into town.
“I found this little arts and crafts village the other day,” Minh said, “and oh my God, I want to go back.”
He gave Chris directions, and it wasn’t long until they’d parked and were walking through an arched entryway into a large courtyard boasting a burbling fountain surrounded by lush greenery.
“How do you pronounce the name?” Rylan was asking Minh, waving at the wrought-iron letters mounted over their heads along the curve of the arch.
“Tlaquepaque.” Minh clapped his hands and bounced with glee. “It means ‘the best of everything.’ I asked,” he added, glaring at Scott as if daring him to mock him. “The whole thing was built forty years ago, and it’s supposed to be modeled after a real Mexican village. Isn’t it gorgeous?”
Scott gazed around him. It really was. Cobblestone walkways, vine-covered stucco walls, and colorful flowers were everywhere, and as they headed deeper into the interior of the village, the smell of delicious food wafted to their noses. There were galleries and shops lining both sides of the street, and it wasn’t long before Chris and Rylan disappeared into one proclaiming of their “fine-art photography.”
Scott wandered over to sit on the edge of yet another small fountain, a beautifully wrought sculpture of a woman with long dark hair wrapped in a traditional Mexican blanket in the center of it.
“This place is awesome,” he said when Minh plopped next to him. “Is that a chapel over there?”
Minh glanced to where he was pointing. “Yep. It’s gorgeous inside, all stained glass and murals, these old leather pews. They do weddings, and it’d be like getting married in the heart of Old Mexico.” He sighed before asking slyly, “Scouting locations, are we?”
“What?” It took Scott a moment to get it, and then he gave a snort. “No.”
Minh scooted a little closer. “Why not?” he teased. “If I had that sweet baby for my very own, I’d do everything I could to tie him to me forever.”
“He said he loves me, Minh.”
Minh dropped the playful act and put his hand on Scott’s arm, his voice gentle yet serious when he said, “And that scares the shit out of you. I can see it written all over your face. Why, doll?”
Scott watched as a painter sat down in front of an easel just outside her gallery and went to work busily mixing colors on her palette. “It fucking terrifies me, because I know he means it. It’s not like all the others who’ve said that to me because they’re infatuated with my looks.” He grunted. “Or because I’ve just made them come.”
“Exactly, he’s not like all the others. He’d be around for the long haul, the good and the bad. He took such good care of you when you were hurt. Why don’t you trust him?”
“I do trust him. It’s just—he can’t trust me to be responsible for his happiness, Minh.”
Minh gaped at him for a moment before smacking his arm. “What horseshit!”
Scott sputtered. “It’s not horseshit! How do you figure?”
“Because the only one responsible for Rylan’s happiness is Rylan. He would never expect you to ‘make’ him happy,” Minh said, complete with mocking air quotes. “His happiness will come from many things in life, and he just wants you to be a part of it.”
“Right. Until I fuck up and he—and he leaves.”
Minh rubbed the spot on Scott’s arm he’d just socked. “You know what? The best thing about Rylan being in love with you is that he already understands who you are and where you come from. The only thing you have to do is keep on being yourself, because that’s who he loves.” He tossed his head. “Is there room for improvement? Of course! Bitches always need to be workin’ on themselves. But you get to do that secure in his love. To me, that’s motherfuckin’ freeing, not confining or scary.”
“I’m so afraid to let myself need him, Minh, because he will never need me quite as much.”
Minh’s eyes were soft with understanding. “Isn’t there an old saying, that in every relationship there’s one who needs more? It’s a thing, sweetheart.”
“He’d be okay without me. I don’t think I’d be okay if—if I had him and then lost him.”
“So it’s better not to have him at all?”
Scott shrugged, and Minh leaned in to kiss his cheek. “We both know how bad life can get. Don’t be afraid to let it be good, too. Awesome, even. You deserve to be happy as much as anyone else, my darling.”
He made to get up, and Scott took his arm, pulling him back down. “What about you? What’s going on with Chris?”
It was Minh’s turn to shrug. “That man knows how to turn me out with his cock and pretty words, but it’s just sex. I’ll be tired of him by tomorrow. Tuesday at the latest.”
Just then, Chris emerged from the gallery, spied them, and started walking their way. As he drew nearer, a sensual smile quirked his lips, his mirrored sunglasses giving him a dangerous, sexy air that went along with his tall, lean body and craggy face.
“Oh my,” Minh breathed, his fingers digging into Scott’s arm. “Maybe Friday. Yes, Friday. Then I’ll be done with him.”
Chris stopped in front of them and reached out to run the backs of his fingers over Minh’s smooth cheek. “So what’s on your agenda today, beautiful? I’m all yours.”
Scott watched in amusement as Minh’s face softened and he grew starry-eyed, standing to take Chris’s arm and plaster himself to his side. “No agenda. Except to spend every waking moment with you.”
His look was adoring, and Scott was hard-pressed not to blatantly roll his eyes. As they wandered off arm in arm, Scott couldn’t resist a chuckle, which turned into an outright laugh when Minh lifted his hand briefly from Chris’s back pocket to flip him the bird without even looking back.
Rylan was nowhere in sight, so Scott pushed off the fountain and ambled down the quaint street, glancing idly into the different shops as he passed them. A sculpture in the window of one caught his eye, and he stopped to give it a closer look, noticing a smaller one sort of tucked in the corner of the display case.
He bent down to see it better, mesmerized by the twisted shape. It appeared to be a tree, but its branches were twined together in a haphazard way, not ending at a point but folding back in on themselves in a pattern impossible to follow. It looked messy but was somehow strangely beautiful and hypnotic.
“You like it?”
Scott jumped in fright and straightened, and the speaker laughed, putting his hand on Scott’s arm to steady him. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.”
Scott gave a self-conscious chuckle. “I was completely lost in thought, trying to figure out what that was.” He gestured at the sculpture. “Is that some kind of—tree?”
“In a way.” The man put his hand out. “I’m Pedro Jimenez.”
“Scott Ashworth.” They shook, and Scott said, “So you made that?”
“Yep.” Pedro appeared to be in his early sixties, his swarthy skin wrinkled, long dark hair in a neat queue and hanging halfway down his back. “It’s my favorite piece.”
“It’s really interesting and pretty,” Scott said sincerely. “I like it.”
“It’s supposed to represent all the choices we make in life, how they intertwine and lead us in directions we sometimes never thought we’d go. My own life, for example. I was diagnosed with cancer last year, and it made me really sit back and take stock of everything.”
Scott didn’t know what to say, so he settled for a quiet “I’m sorry.”
Pedro smiled. “There are always regrets, of course, but really, our choices are what make up the pattern of our lives. Mine is an interesting pattern, and so I’m an interesting person.” He laughed. “That’s how I like to look at it, anyway. Maybe my pattern looks ugly to you, but to someone else, it’s beautiful. Like the sculpture.”
“I can’t stop staring at it. It’s mesmerizing.”
Pedro laughed again. “And a woman the other day said she thought it was hideous, amateurish, and it shouldn’t be displayed in the same case with such gorgeous pieces.” He didn’t look upset, merely amused. “Which proved the point of the piece exactly. Couldn’t have explained it better myself.”
“Wow.”
Pedro clapped Scott on the shoulder. “Always glad to meet someone who gets it. Take care, son.” He went back inside the gallery, and Scott turned around when he heard his name being called.
Rylan walked over to him, smiling. “What were you talking with that guy so intently about?”
Scott told him, and Rylan pursed his lips. “Wow, that’s such a cool way of looking at things. What if I hadn’t chosen Phoenix for my project? We wouldn’t be here together right now.” His voice was light and teasing, and he bumped Scott’s shoulder with his.
“Or what if I hadn’t chosen to leave with Tanner that night?” That was the last thing Scott meant to say, and the words hung in the air between them. He sucked in a breath. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “I usually don’t let myself go there, the what-ifs.”
Rylan was silent for a moment. “Let’s say you didn’t leave with Tanner, that you’d stayed in Pace. Who’s to say that would have been an automatic guarantee of happiness? Maybe you would have hated the Navy. Maybe I wouldn’t have wanted to leave you and go to college, and I wouldn’t be a photographer now. Or let’s say I did go and then things fizzled out between us or ended badly because we met other people while we were apart.” He shuddered. “Maybe we would have ended up hating each other in the end.”
“Or maybe,” Scott said tersely, “me staying around meant I could have kept an eye on Heather, and she and your dad never broke up. Maybe you and I just kept getting stronger, and if I hadn’t left, we’d be living on a beach somewhere right now, blissfully happy.”
Rylan rubbed his cheek against Scott’s shoulder. “That, too. All that could have happened. The point is, we don’t know, because it didn’t happen that way. Our choices led us to where we are right now, and we’re strong, interesting men because of them. Yeah, the road to here was long and painful, but now it’s behind us.”
“It is what it is,” Scott mumbled, and Rylan chuckled.
“Right,” he said, “and we’re starting as we mean to go on.” He snorted. “Damn, we have some awesome mantras, don’t we?”
Scott slid his arm around Rylan’s shoulders and gave him a squeeze, leaving it draped there as they meandered on through the little village, looking for Minh and Chris.
“There they are.” Rylan pointed toward the chapel where Minh appeared to be talking quite animatedly with a young couple standing there. As they drew closer, Scott noted with alarm that the woman was crying.
“Honey, that’s awful!” Minh was saying. “You don’t have any way to reach them? Gimme their number, I’ll call their asses.”
“I have a number, but it says it’s disconnected, no longer in service,” the girl wailed. “I’ve tried everything!”
“What’s going on?” Scott asked, and Minh turned to look at him, one hand on his hip, the other gesturing toward the couple.
“These nice young people were cheated! Out of a wedding package!”
Everyone started talking at once, a bewildering cacophony of sound, but at last, Scott was able to suss out the story of an unsolicited email offering a deeply discounted wedding package at the Tlaquepaque Chapel, which turned out to be a scam.
“Usually if something sounds too good to be true, it probably is,” Rylan said reasonably. “I’m sorry. That really sucks. Six hundred dollars is a lot of money to lose.”
“Well, good luck—” Chris began, and Minh elbowed him.
Chris shot him a wounded look. “What?”
“There has to be something we can do to help,” Minh said, and Chris’s eyes widened.
“What can we possibly do?”
“Well, for starters, we have an officiant and two photographers standing right here!”
Chris looked utterly bewildered. “Where’s an officiant?”
“Me!” Minh pointed to himself. “Honey, Teena Teeze has performed at least twenty weddings at Spectrum, both gay and straight, and they’re all legal, right and tight.” He turned to the girl. “Oh, Julia, tell me you do have a marriage license,” he asked flatly, “and that that wasn’t part of the ‘package’ too.”
“No, no, we have that,” Julia replied hastily, holding up her folder.
“Thank gawd. Well, then, let’s go over here under this pretty flowering tree thing, and I’ll just marry you right now!” Minh pointed to a tree a few steps away. “My man will take some nice pictures of us all, and there you go. Then you can have a huge-ass reception tomorrow with all your friends and family somewhere.”
“But—but—” Julia’s lips trembled anew. “My parents aren’t flying in until tonight! I wanted my daddy to walk me down the aisle. I’m their only daughter. I can’t get married today without them!”
Minh threw up his hands. “Well, in that case, sweetie pie, there’s not a whole lot else I can do.”
Scott felt a welcome little surge of adrenaline. “Since when have you backed down from a challenge, Minh? I’m sure between all of us we can figure something out.”
Minh raised his eyebrows before pointing to a nearby restaurant. “Well, in that case, let’s go have brunch and do some planning.” He belatedly introduced them to Julia and her fiancé, Brian, muttering to Rylan, “I’ve never seen them before in my life, but I’m a nosy bitch, and when I saw them standing here looking so upset, I got all up in their business, like it or not.”
Rylan chuckled. “Never a dull moment around you, Minh.” Minh winked at him, taking Julia’s arm to lead her off. Brian followed, confusion written all over his face, while Chris only looked amused.
Scott shook his head, leaning down to murmur in Rylan’s ear as they walked, “Jesus. Who falls for something like that?”
“Young college kids just starting out. An expensive life lesson, right? Always do your research and be suspicious of something that looks too good to be true.”
Scott winced, Tanner once again springing to mind, how he’d dangled the carrot of a better life in California right in front of his nose, and Scott, without a second thought, had bit right into it. Too good to be true, and an expensive life lesson indeed, since he’d paid both a physical and emotional price for it.
As if Rylan had read his thoughts, he took Scott’s hand in his, twining their fingers together and giving them a gentle squeeze. Scott squeezed back, wondering when, exactly, Rylan had become so precious to him. Again.
I love you.
The words stuck in Scott’s throat, but he firmed his lips, determined once and for all to try to put the past in the past, where it deserved to stay.
It is what it is.
And everything that truly mattered was right here at his side.