The first few weeks of April passed quickly, and Miles loved every moment of his new life. He loved staying busy in his kitchen, and he enjoyed working with Shawn. Bentley was closed Tuesday and Wednesday each week, so all the employees still got a weekend of sorts. Miles mostly spent his days off binge-watching television, and he was very glad to see his twenty-fifth birthday pass with only a small cake up at the main house. The same happened for Reyes the following day, neither of them interested in truly marking the passage of time.
By the third week, Reyes managed to tease/tempt Miles into joining a group of guest campers for the Wednesday overnight camping trip. Miles agreed to sleep in a sleeping bag, on the ground, in a tent. Again.
He’d kind of enjoyed it during last year’s vacation at Clean Slate, even though the ground was hard and he hadn’t slept well. Mack and Reyes had led that group, and Miles had instinctively stuck close to Reyes for a lot of the night, finding comfort in the older man’s presence. He still found that comfort, but had to frequently remind himself that it was as friends only.
Didn’t help he woke up with morning wood now more often than not, and that was a new development. Miles had been having trouble in the erection department for a while, and it hadn’t really bothered him until recently. He couldn’t remember the last time in this past year that he’d jerked off and really enjoyed it, and now he was hiding wood almost every morning from his roommate, until he could sneak into the bathroom to shower and relieve himself.
The morning of the camping trip, he had the same damned problem. Thankfully, Reyes was still asleep when Miles woke, so he bolted into the bathroom to fix the issue. He rarely thought about anything specifically, mostly coasting on the sensations. But this morning, he used a new memory from last night.
Reyes had come back late to the cabin, and Miles had fallen asleep reading. He’d woken from the sounds of movement, but hadn’t given away that he was awake. It gave him the chance to see Reyes remove his ranch polo, showing off swaths of golden skin and so much ink Miles had nearly gasped. Reyes had tattoos beyond Miles’s expectations from peeks at his biceps artwork.
Intricate, abstract patterns decorated each shoulder and upper biceps, and similar patterns wove a circle across his chest and pecs, and just below his collar bones. A small sun circled his navel, its individual beams of light stretching out several inches from the center. And in the small of his back was an abstract symbol that reminded Miles of graffiti, but he didn’t know its meaning.
So beautiful, but why did Reyes feel the need to hide his artwork from Miles? Respect for Miles’s decision to just be friends, maybe? But friends got half-naked in front of each other. Sure, Miles hadn’t dropped his pants in front of Reyes yet, but he’d gone shirtless a few times.
Under the hot shower spray, Miles fisted his erection and pictured Reyes’s bare torso. Lean and cut with muscles, smooth copper skin, those intricate tattoos. Something about the sunbeams emanating from his navel really turned Miles’s crank. He imagined Reyes in the shower with him, his big body plastered to the wall, while rivulets of water coursed down his chest and abs. Over those tattoos. Miles licked those beams, tickled Reyes’s navel with his tongue, and he looked up into dark, laughing eyes. Reyes said his name over the rush of falling water, those big, calloused hands trapped behind his head. Giving Miles all the room he wanted to play. To enjoy another man’s body again without fear. To touch and lick and laugh together.
His orgasm drew up quickly, and Miles jerked harder, faster, his imaginary self licking up Reyes’s torso to tweak his nipples. To lick the tattoos on his pecs, while his hand reached down to find Reyes’s hot, hard—
“Fuck.” Miles bit the back of his free hand as he shot against the shower wall, pleasure rippling down his spine and out his dick as he painted the tiles. He leaned his forehead against the cool wall, while the aftershocks subsided.
Holy hell, that felt amazing.
Once his dick was limp, guilt stole in on silent feet. He’d not only perved on his roommate, he’d allowed his roommate to star in his jerk-off fantasy, and that was not cool. Especially not when Miles was the one who’d said no to anything ever happening between himself and Reyes.
But dear God, his body wanted the man, even if his mind was too fucked up to admit it.
Miles finished his shower, then toweled off and wrapped it around his waist, since he’d been in such a big hurry to get into the bathroom that he forgot to grab clothes. Reyes was up and in the front room putting on coffee, so Miles quickly got into a pair of boxers so he could drop the towel and work on drying his hair.
Reyes tossed him a sleepy smile on his way to the bathroom to fill the coffeepot with water. Miles returned the grin, hoping he didn’t look guilty, and finished dressing. The camping trip didn’t leave until after lunch, so Miles had the whole morning to himself. After Reyes left, he helped himself to coffee, and then packed up the bag he’d need for the overnight, including the straw hat he’d purchased last year to protect himself from the sun. He read until noon, then headed to the kitchen for lunch.
None of this trip’s guests had been assigned to Tango, so after scarfing down a roast beef sandwich, Miles was ecstatic to find her waiting for him to tack her in the corral. Reyes had Hot Coffee saddled up and ready, so Miles got Tango situated. Tango butted her head against his shoulder in a friendly “I know you” gesture that had Miles grinning.
Tourists filtered into the corral to claim their horses. Miles didn’t really introduce himself to the four college-age guys and two married straight couples who’d signed up to camp, and Reyes simply explained Miles as a last-minute addition to the trip.
Ernie was the other cowboy assigned to the group, and he brought up the rear with the chuck wagon while Reyes led them out. The trail was oddly familiar to Miles, despite having only traveled it once before. Maybe it was him on Tango and Reyes on Hot Coffee that gave him the biggest sense of déjà vu ever. Whatever it was, Miles relaxed into the journey and snapped photos with his camera along the way.
Photography was only a hobby, and it calmed him in ways few other things had before moving here. But in the month-ish since he’d been on the ranch, Miles felt ten times more energetic. Happier, more positive, and his appetite had increased enough that he was gaining a bit of weight on his skinny frame. Patrice’s big breakfasts, and his own steady diet of buffalo burgers and beef stew, were helping pack on much-needed pounds.
“What’s up, dude?” one of the college guys asked as his horse came up alongside Tango. “You late for your reservation, or what?”
Miles scowled at the interruption of his quiet meditation, but the guy seemed innocent enough. “No, I’m not a ranch guest. I actually work up at the Bentley Ghost Town. Today’s my day off, and I was invited along for tonight’s trip.”
“Hey, cool. Name’s Steve.”
“Miles.”
“Nice to meet you. I saw brochures for the ghost town in the office. Is it as neat as it looks?”
“Even better.” Miles nattered on a bit about the features and attractions up at Bentley, including the saloon’s food. “If your group can get a night at the local motel for Saturday, spending the day Sunday is worth your time.”
“Hmm...where should I look to find you?”
Miles faltered at the blatant flirting, stunned into momentary silence. Steve was cute in a closeted frat boy way, but he was also too blond, too plain for him. Still, they could use all the publicity they could get. “I’m around,” Miles hedged. “Sometimes near the saloon, sometimes not.”
“Cool.” Steve winked, then slowed to meet back up with his buddies.
Their quiet chatter behind him made Miles stiffen. He had no idea if Steve had genuinely been flirting, or if he was baiting Miles, so he stayed alert for the rest of the hike. Their horses all stopped once near a creek for a break, and Miles was happy to show off how easily he could dismount his horse, while one of Steve’s buddies fell onto his ass.
The brief rest gave everyone a chance to stretch their legs. Miles gazed across the creek and smiled at the beauty of the land all around him.
“Penny for your thoughts,” Reyes said from his left.
Miles turned, unsurprised to see Reyes watching him with a sheepish smile. “Thinking about last year’s camping trip. I was such a wuss about the idea of wild animals getting close to camp.”
“They are a real danger this far into the wilderness, but also an infrequent one. They don’t tend to like the noise, or the light from the campfire.”
“That why you and Mack slept in shifts?”
Reyes shrugged. “We’re responsible for your safety while you’re under our watch. It’s my job to protect you.”
Something in Reyes’s tone made the second statement feel extremely personal. “You do an excellent job of it.” Okay, that had come out flirtier than Miles intended.
Fortunately, Ernie wandered over to ask Reyes a question, so Miles walked a few feet down the creek, kicking at stones and not thinking too hard.
“So what’s up with you and that Reyes guy?” Steve asked, close enough to make Miles stumble.
He turned, heart racing, and annoyed at being sneaked up on. “I live at the ranch, so I know most of the staff. We’re friends, why?”
“No real reason.” Steve was a bit too much into Miles’s personal space, but his smile was friendly. “Wasn’t sure if I had competition or not.”
Miles didn’t mean to laugh in the guy’s face, but he really couldn’t help it. Steve was nice and kind of cute, but he was not Miles’s type. “Dude, sorry, but I’m not interested in you or Reyes.”
Liar. Lying liar who lies!
“Oh,” Steve said, that friendly grin never wavering. “Bummer. Guess I read you wrong.”
“No, you mostly read me right, I’m just not looking to be with anyone right now. I, uh, just got out of a bad relationship, so I need some me time.” Close enough to the truth that he wasn’t really lying.
“Dude, I get it. No hard feelings.” Steve raised his palms in a gesture of surrender. “Does that mean I can’t roast marshmallows with you later?”
Miles chuckled, because Steve was adorable in his own goofy, earnest way. “Maybe. Just don’t sneak up on me again, okay? Next time I might pop you in the nose.”
“Duly noted. Later, man.” Steve wandered back to his friends.
A few minutes later, Ernie called for everyone to mount up. One of the married men needed a bit of a boost. Miles swung up gracefully, happy to be back on Tango again. He truly adored this horse, who seemed oddly attuned to him. So much so that Miles tuned out the world and stared up at the wide open sky for the rest of the journey, until Tango halted on her own.
They’d reached a familiar clearing near the base of a mountain of rock, where a permanent fire pit lived. It had a rail for their horses, and the first thing everyone did was tie them off and get them set up with feed bags. Ernie asked Miles and one of the married couples to help him unload the chuck wagon, while everyone else was sent off to forage for firewood.
Five two-man tents were removed, and Miles silently prayed that he ended up in a single. If Steve tried to goad his way into Miles’s tent, they were going to have words. But he trusted Reyes enough to assume the man had planned that far ahead. Tents were pitched, and Miles was fast enough to claim the single before most of the firewood hunters had returned. And it saved him from hiding his morning wood from the man for one day.
Reyes noticed and tossed him a wink.
Last year, Miles had surprised and impressed his group of campers by knowing how to start a proper campfire, and when no one else from this year’s group answered to the challenge, Miles showed off again. He’d been forced into Boy Scouts for a few years of his elementary school days, mostly so his parents could socialize and make connections. Looking back, all of Miles’s childhood activities, from music lessons to horseback riding, had been designed to increase his parents’ social network.
I was only ever a means to an end for them.
Sometimes he wondered if they’d ever truly loved him.
Miles spent the rest of the evening dividing his time between taking photographs—especially of the spectacular sunset Mother Nature treated them to—and chatting with the tourists about the ghost town. Bentley was his favorite topic, after all, not to mention his livelihood now. They all needed the attraction to succeed.
He sat next to Reyes while the group toasted marshmallows and told ghost stories, until little by little, folks turned in for the night. Reyes took first watch, so eventually, they were alone by the fire, a shotgun across Reyes’s lap just in case. They didn’t speak, simply observed the dimming firelight. Reyes occasionally tossed another log onto it, sending embers into the night sky like orange fireflies.
“You seem to be enjoying yourself,” Reyes said softly, his voice barely audible over the crackling of the fire.
“I am. It’s peaceful out here.” Miles chuckled. “Growing up in the city, I never imagined I’d love the outdoors as much as I do. The wide open spaces and big blue sky. All the stars.” He tilted his head up, taking in the millions of twinkling lights above.
“The outdoors suits you. I’ve never seen you so relaxed and happy.”
“Thanks. You know, in some bizarre way, maybe my relationship with Dallas was a good thing.”
Reyes growled, which was hella sexy.
“Hear me out,” Miles said. “If he hadn’t been such an asshole, if he hadn’t basically propelled me into leaving my old life behind, I probably wouldn’t have moved here. Yes, Wes can be very persuasive, but I wouldn’t have had a driving reason to leave San Francisco. I wouldn’t be here.”
With you.
Reyes studied him with those dark, mysterious eyes. “I hate that you’re right, but I’m glad you’re here. And you know if you ever need to talk about Dallas...anything he did, you can talk to me.”
“I know.” Miles briefly squeezed Reyes’s wrist, and the contact was enough to make his heart pound. “Thank you. Truly. But I’m not ready.”
“Respect.”
“Thank you.” He scratched his chin, which despite having shaved that morning, was already bristling with a thin layer of whiskers. He’d look ridiculous with a beard, but sometimes he hated the upkeep of staying smooth.
“What’s that face for?” Reyes asked.
“Thinking about shaving. I know, random.” He studied Reyes a beat. “Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you shave. How do you have such dark hair and not grow a beard?”
“My mother is half–Native American, and my father is from Mexico.”
“Oh, wow. Okay.”
“How about you?” Reyes asked with a flirty smirk. “I showed you mine.”
“Nothing super interesting, really. My mom is first-generation German-American, but my father’s family has been around since the early eighteenth century. He swears we’re directly related to Samuel Adams, but he can’t prove it.”
“The beer company?”
“The guy who signed the Declaration of Independence. It’s probably just a story he tells to potential ad agency clients.”
“And that troubles you?”
Miles shrugged. “I don’t like fake people, and my parents are about as fake as you can get. It’s why we don’t speak anymore. I was only ever a prop to them, and now that I’m a small-kitchen chef, instead of something brag-able like a doctor or executive, I’m not useful to them.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. Separation is better for all of us.”
Reyes tilted his head slightly and gave his shoulder a light bump. “You have to create your own happiness.”
“Exactly.” Miles met Reyes’s eyes, which reflected back the orange glow of the fire. And something else, too. An emotion that said I see you and made Miles want again. Want a physical relationship with more than his own right hand. With a man he trusted. Was attracted to. And the longer he stared into Reyes’s dark eyes, the closer Miles’s body leaned into him. Reyes didn’t move away, didn’t put space between them. He simply waited.
Miles’s gaze dropped to his mouth. He wanted to kiss Reyes. Taste those plump lips. To find out what—
“Dudes, get a tent.” Ernie’s snickering voice from behind made Miles nearly fall off the log he was sitting on.
Reyes glared at Ernie. “Fuck off.”
“Can’t. My shift. Go get some rest, or whatever, just don’t wake up the other campers.”
Miles blushed to the roots of his hair, mumbled a good-night, and dashed for his tent. He zipped it up fast, heart pounding too quickly. Sure, Ernie was just teasing them, but goddamn, Miles had been close to breaking his no-touching rule with Reyes. The man was too kind, too attractive, too fucking attentive. He was everything Miles wanted in a boyfriend, but it was the worst timing on the planet.
One day he’d be less of a mess. Maybe he’d try dating again in the future, but by then, someone would have come by and snatched Reyes up. And that was okay, because his beautiful, strong Reyes deserved someone with a lot less baggage, with a lot more courage. He deserved an equal, and that was something Miles could never be.
* * *
Reyes stared at the side of Miles’s tent, unable to sleep despite the late hour. They’d had a moment tonight. A brief, but powerful moment, and it had taken everything in Reyes to hold back and not kiss Miles senseless. And then Ernie had destroyed the moment, the big jerk. And Ernie’s joke had sent Miles scampering away like a startled rabbit.
He longed to speak to Miles again and fix this, but knocking on his tent was a very bad idea. Reyes spent the rest of the night dozing fitfully in his sleeping bag, until the rising sun gave him the perfect excuse to get up and walk over to the designated pissing area to relieve himself. After, he helped Ernie prepare breakfast. By the time food was ready, Miles had exited his tent, dressed for the day, and was seemingly as unrested as Reyes.
Miles also avoided meeting Reyes’s eyes the entire time it took to break camp, feed the horses, and hit the trail to the summit. Its awe-inspiring view of Garrett lands never ceased to arrest Reyes when they reached it, week after week, year after year. Thousands of acres spread out in front of them, all wild lands with distantly roaming creatures great and small.
The group dismounted for a while, and Miles went off to take pictures. Reyes told the story of how, from this point, Wes Bentley had gone off-trail and eventually discovered the ghost town. The first time he’d told the story, it had been off the cuff, and when he’d mentioned it to Mack later in the week, Mack thought it was brilliant cross-promotion. So it became a habit.
It hurt a bit that Miles was keeping a deliberate distance now, and Ernie even quietly apologized for hurting his friend’s feelings with the joke. Reyes told Ernie to apologize to Miles, which he promptly did.
Behind a cluster of their horses, the sniggering voices of the college guys rose a bit, and Reyes swore he heard the word queer. He stepped closer and heard Miles’s name mentioned. Reyes stiffened.
“...actually thought I was interested,” Steve said. “Some skinny-ass nobody who lives in the middle of nowhere.”
His friends laughed again. “If you don’t want to hit it, I’ll take a go,” Brock said, and Reyes bristled with anger. “No rules about a vacation fling.”
Reyes stepped around Valentine’s flank to glare at the four frat boys who’d been a pain in his ass all week. “You’ll speak respectfully about the ranch’s staff and residents,” he snapped, just loud enough for them to hear without blasting their business to the rest of the campers. “Or you will be sent home, deposit nonrefundable.”
Steve put his hands up in a gesture of surrender. “No disrespect meant, man. Just locker-room talk.”
“Then save it for the locker room back at school.”
“Yeah, okay.”
Job done, Reyes stalked away to the cliff and allowed the view to calm some of his anger. Sure, those guys were young idiots, but he didn’t like how they’d spoken about Miles, as if he was some ass to use and leave behind. He had a feeling Miles had gotten a lifetime of that crap from Dallas, and the thought didn’t do much for his overall mental state.
Reyes hated very few people. He’d only met Dallas Ward once, briefly, but every time Miles gave him another scrap of information about their history, it stoked Reyes’s hatred of the man. And his burning need to somehow make it right for Miles.
But Miles had made it clear he didn’t want Reyes to interfere, and he continued making it clear he wasn’t interested in Reyes romantically, either. Except last night...maybe there was hope. Not that Reyes deserved someone like Miles.
I don’t deserve him, but I want him, anyway.
The rest of the trip was uneventful, and they returned to the ranch by noon on Thursday. Miles seemed unhappy to leave Tango behind in her stall, but he didn’t linger. He’d taken the morning off from the saloon in order to go on the trip—Reyes might have called Mack ahead of time to make sure Miles didn’t have that excuse not to go. Miles headed straight for the shed and an ATV to get him up to Bentley. Shawn was capable of executing the menu on a quieter weekday, but Miles did love his kitchen. Much in the same way Reyes loved this ranch.
I can’t fall for him. I can’t.
Reyes stood near the corral and watched the wilderness swallow Miles up, certain he was fighting a losing battle against letting Miles Arlington steal his heart away.