Dinner in San Francisco happened a month later, on the first Saturday in June, and Reyes was stupidly nervous, considering this was not a date for him and Miles. They were the only noncouple going, and even though he wasn’t dating Miles, Reyes swore they were in some sort of platonic relationship.
They shared meals together. Always breakfast, rarely lunch, and often dinner unless Miles ate at the saloon during clean up. They continued to stream movies together, share in poker games with other hands, or to visit Mack and Wes for their traditional evenings spent as a quartet, with Colt included now and again. Even on the nights they didn’t visit their friends, Reyes and Miles still frequently went horseback riding together. Reyes had quietly told the other hands that Tango was off-limits to guests, much like Hot Coffee, so she wasn’t too tired by the end of the day to go out with Miles.
Miles truly loved that horse, visiting her on his days off and bringing her treats to nibble. The pair had fallen in love in their own way, and it was beautiful.
Some of his coworkers teased Reyes about his husband, and Reyes just flipped them off. He and Miles were becoming the best of friends, sharing more in their quiet moments than in any conversation they’d ever had. Neither of them was fond of bringing up the past, so they created their own relationship based on the present, and it meant the world to Reyes.
Miles was finishing up his shower after a busy day in the saloon, while Reyes tried not to impatiently pace the cabin. He’d showered and dressed right after the guests left, and now all he could do was wait.
The bathroom door swung open, and Miles stepped out. Reyes turned, and he couldn’t stop his mouth from falling open. Miles had dressed up in flattering black slacks and an emerald-green button-down shirt that made his eyes gleam. His cheeks glowed from his shower, and he smiled shyly at Reyes.
“You look amazing,” Reyes said.
“Uh, thanks. You, too?” The way he asked that was intensely adorable, because Reyes was wearing the same clothes as when Miles had arrived home.
Dark jeans and a plain blue polo had nothing on Miles’s ensemble. “Thank you. Ready to head over?”
“Definitely.”
He led the way out of the cabin and around to the barn to collect Miles’s car. Miles had volunteered to drive, since his car could more comfortably fit four people than one of the ranch pickups. Colt was already in the city with Avery, staying at Miles and Wes’s old apartment, which was in its final month of lease. And even though any one of them could have driven Miles’s car, Reyes understood the silent plea to give Miles control over this part of their trip. Being back in San Francisco after so many months away wouldn’t be easy for him.
They picked up Mack and Wes, and then Miles headed for Garrett and the highway beyond. Wes sat up front with him to control the radio, and he kept Miles relaxed by blasting Katy Perry, Kelly Clarkson, and Shawn Mendes, the pair of them singing along to the various songs. Mack occasionally joined in, but Reyes wasn’t much of a singer. It helped the hour-long drive go much faster, though, and soon they were trekking down familiar city streets.
Wes texted ahead, and Colt and Avery had agreed to meet them two blocks from the apartment building. Reyes didn’t know how much Wes told them about Dallas, but they’d both been out with their group the night Dallas accosted Miles at Club Base. Sometimes things between friends were understood without words.
Miles’s car wasn’t the biggest, but it had a bench front seat, so all six of them were able to squeeze in, with Wes squished into the middle up front, and Colt in the back, since he was the smallest of their trio.
Avery gave directions, and they ended up at a trendy tapas-style restaurant. Reyes would have preferred a steakhouse, but he was also a man of simple tastes. Miles seemed amused by the plate sharing, though, so Reyes got with the program. Some of the stuff was too spicy for him, but he enjoyed the experience. And he loved listening to Miles talk about the food, describing flavor profiles and his thoughts on tweaking the dish.
Sharing plates at a round table gave them all a chance to really talk inclusively. Avery chatted about his new job, and everyone teased him by calling him Dr. Hendrix. Colt complained about fixing a toilet one of that week’s guests had somehow clogged with a pair of underwear, until Mack threw a piece of bread at his head to make him stop.
Miles didn’t contribute much beyond his thoughts on the food, but he smiled and laughed, and as the evening progressed, he relaxed by degrees, as if he realized Dallas wasn’t going to pop out of the woodwork to harass him again. Eventually he told a humorous story about Shawn accidentally using salt in place of sugar in one of the pie batches and having to eighty-six it for half the day until new ones could be made.
“That sounds like something I would do,” Wes said on a peal of laughter. “And to be fair to Shawn, they do look exactly the same.”
“Say that again the next time you put salt in your coffee,” Miles retorted.
Mack grabbed the crostini Wes was about to eat and popped it into his own mouth; Wes squawked.
Reyes laughed at the entire production and sipped his beer. Artisan stuff so bitter it was hard to drink, but he didn’t like to waste alcohol.
Once everyone was full and the bill settled, they moved on to a comedy club for more drinks and a lot of laughs. Reyes and Miles sat next to each other, and every time Miles’s face lit up with laughter, Reyes basked in it. He’d never seen Miles so joyful and relaxed, not even at the ranch. Miles was out with friends, eating good food, and having a good time, with not a shadow or line around his eyes.
He was happy.
Reyes reached out, then pulled his hand back. Touching was for boyfriends, not best friends and roommates. Not the kind of touching Reyes was compelled to do, so he kept his hands in his lap. If Miles reached for him first, Reyes would celebrate and hold on tight. Until that happened, he’d ignore his own feelings and wait—no matter how hard it was to keep his distance.
* * *
Miles made the mistake of ordering the first of several glasses of wine at the comedy club, and by the time the show was over, he was in no condition to drive, so he handed his keys over to whomever was more sober than him. Avery took them, the only one in their group who hadn’t had a drink all night.
They all ended up strolling around the Castro for a while, occasionally popping into a bar for another drink and music, but staying away from the most popular clubs. Miles leaned on Wes a lot, and eventually his care was transferred to Reyes, who smelled amazing. Then they were in the car again, and Miles got a little fuzzy while conversation buzzed around him.
“...three in the morning.” Was that Wes? “One night will be fine.”
“Are you sure?” Reyes, yup, right next to Miles and still smelling great.
“Sure about what?” Miles slurred.
“Sleeping in your old apartment tonight.”
“Why not? ’S closer than the ranch.”
“Drunk logic,” Mack said.
Miles couldn’t untie his dry tongue long enough to deny being drunk, because yeah, he was drunk.
“I just don’t want him to be upset in the morning,” Reyes said.
“Who’s upset?” Miles asked.
“No one. Relax, you can fall asleep soon.”
“M’kay.”
He probably fell asleep way too soon, because he felt himself being lifted up, much like he’d been carried last month. Strong arms held him tight, until he was deposited onto something soft, but also hard, and he didn’t care. All he wanted to do was sleep.
Miles woke a while later still on his back with other people breathing nearby. Sunlight peeked in through a curtainless window, and it took him a minute to realize he was in the living room of his old apartment surrounded by other sleeping bodies. Five bodies, all in sleeping bags like him, and he blearily blinked at the faces on either side of him. Wes and Reyes.
His mouth was dry and sticky, and his stomach was sore, but he didn’t mind, because his friends had taken care of him last night while he got drunk and blew off steam—something he hadn’t done in over a year. And since Miles remembered leaving this apartment mostly empty, someone had planned ahead for tonight’s sleepover.
Miles slowly extricated himself from the pile of sleeping bodies so he could pee and swish his mouth out. A shower wouldn’t have gone amiss, but the only toiletries belonged to Colt and Avery, and he didn’t want to poach. The fridge did have water, so he cracked one of those and sipped.
Colt was the next to wake, and he waved sleepily at Miles on his way to the bathroom. One by one, everyone got up and packed away the sleeping bags—all marked with the Clean Slate Ranch logo, Miles noticed. Colt must have borrowed them. Miles tossed Reyes a shy smile, unable to forget how it had felt to be carried by him. Warm, safe, and oh so right.
Why am I fighting this attraction so hard again?
Knocking on the front door startled Miles into squeezing his water bottle too tight, sending water over his fist and acid into his stomach. Reyes was the first to stalk to the door and check the peek hole. He glanced at Miles and shook his head—not Dallas—before unlocking and opening the door a crack.
“Delivery from Lola’s,” a woman said.
Reyes turned his head. “Anyone order food?” He got a chorus of noes. “Wrong apartment.”
“Are you sure? The ticket says number thirty-two.”
He stuck his head farther out the door. “Dunno, that looks like a thirty-seven to me, ma’am.”
“Oh, could be. Sorry to bother you.”
“No problem.”
Miles didn’t realize he’d stopped breathing until Reyes shut the door again. In his drunken stupor, sleeping it off at the old apartment had seemed like a completely reasonable idea. In the clear light of day, he realized how stupid that had been. What if Dallas was still looking for him after all this time? The truly creepy thought made Miles sick.
And then Reyes was standing in front of him, a solid wall of muscle and dark skin, and Miles hugged him, because he couldn’t think of anything better to do. Reyes brought his arms up to cinch around Miles’s waist, and Miles sighed.
“It wasn’t him,” Reyes said softly. “You’re okay.”
“Thank you.” Miles chanced looking up, into Reyes’s eyes. Dark eyes that burned with so many warm, wonderful things. Things he still couldn’t bring himself to ask for, so Miles pressed his forehead into Reyes’s neck and enjoyed the contact for a little while longer.
* * *
After breakfast at a diner in Alameda, their original foursome headed back to the ranch. Colt was staying in town with Avery until Avery had to fly back to Los Angeles tomorrow morning. Reyes had just enough time to change into his work polo and dash out to help Judson pick up this week’s guests at the parking area.
They were full up with twenty guests, and Reyes was happy to see a set of familiar faces ready to climb the buckboard. Last spring, Suzy and Dianne had brought their two sons, Andy and Joey, to the ranch to celebrate Joey being one year cancer free. When Reyes received the email reservation back in April, his eyes had smarted with tears to hear Joey was now two years cancer free, and the family was back to celebrate.
Reyes and Judson greeted the family with light hugs. The ranch always loved repeat guests, but Reyes particularly adored stories like this.
Back up at the guesthouse, the little family was given the third floor, which had two bedrooms and a private bathroom. The rest of the guests were divided up into the second floor, which had four larger rooms with two bunk beds each. One room ended up being mixed, but both women had checked that they were fine sharing with the opposite sex on their applications. They’d never had an issue reported, but it still made Reyes a little nervous.
He did his job, explaining the rules of the ranch, with Judson as backup, the entire time wishing he was back at the cabin with Miles. They hadn’t really talked about the hug, or Miles’s fright over the unexpected knock. And while Miles had seemed completely fine on the drive home, Reyes needed to know he was okay.
His chance came at lunchtime, when Miles arrived at the kitchen for sandwiches and potato salad. He’d obviously showered, because he’d changed his clothes and left his dark hair to dry in haphazard curls and swoops. It had grown out since he’d moved here, getting shaggier at the top and near his neck, and Reyes wanted permission to tease those curls.
“How’s the hangover?” Reyes whispered once Miles settled next to him with his lunch.
“Pretty much gone now, thanks. Breakfast helped settle my stomach, and I took a nap.”
“Glad to hear it.”
“Gotta get up to the saloon soon, though. Shawn is going to kill me for leaving him with a weekend lunch rush. But Emily pitches in on simple things, like dishing up stew and sides.”
“That’s good. It’s nice to be needed, but it’s also nice to know the saloon can carry on without you for a few hours when necessary.”
“Yeah.”
Miles ate without any hesitation or nerves, so Reyes decided that the hug had simply been a hug between friends and nothing more. He told Miles about Suzy and the boys, and after he ate, Miles went out to say hello to the family before he left for the ghost town. Reyes watched him disappear, and then finished his own sandwich so he could get back to work, as well.
* * *
Miles had absolutely no good reason to say no that night, when Reyes casually asked if he’d like to go camping again. Especially when Reyes said it could just be the two of them, instead of tagging along with the other guests. Miles loved the idea of the two of them and their horses, stargazing and relaxing by a crackling fire.
“How about tomorrow?” Reyes asked. “You’re off Tuesday, so we don’t have to worry about rushing back. Most of the guests signed up for tomorrow’s camp, anyway, so they won’t need me back too early.”
“Yeah, okay,” Miles replied. “Are we going to be able to manage all the gear on two horses?”
“Yup. We’ve got proper camping backpacks in the garage. They’ll hold everything we’ll need.”
“Sounds like fun. Any particular location?”
“I was thinking down by the pond. It has a sand pit nearby we can use for a fire and enough wood in the area to fuel it.”
Miles grinned. “You really thought this through.”
Reyes looked a bit sheepish for a moment. “Been thinking about it for a few weeks, but could never get up the nerve to ask.”
“Did you think I’d say no?” He was genuinely curious why Reyes had been nervous about it.
“I guess. I mean, just the two of us, out in the middle of nowhere overnight...”
“I trust you, remember?” His chest burned with adoration over how careful Reyes was being with him. From other people, it might have felt condescending, but not from Reyes. Miles knew better. “My virtue is safe with you.”
Reyes chuckled. “I guess I was overthinking things.”
“Maybe a little. I think it’ll be fun.”
“You’re not worried about gossip?”
“Friends go camping together all the time, and yes, I’ve heard the husband jokes.” Miles shrugged. “It’s a small enough ranch. People need to entertain themselves. Believe me, I’ve worked in kitchens long enough that gossip doesn’t bother me much anymore.”
Reyes studied him a beat, his dark eyes glinting. “Okay.”
“Cool. Want to watch a movie on my tablet?”
“Absolutely.”
Miles grinned. “Your bed or mine?”
* * *
“Fuck, but I really did miss this,” Miles said as he let out a groan of pleasure.
The sound sent prickles across Reyes’s skin, and he worked hard to keep his dick from reacting to it. They’d been riding for less than thirty minutes, taking trails and enjoying themselves before heading to camp. Both wore a backpack loaded with sleeping bags, a tent, and cooking equipment, and Reyes had been impressed with how easily Miles had mounted Tango with that added weight.
“You missed what?” Reyes asked.
“Being on a horse. I really did love riding and dressage shows, but I gave it up like the rebellious teen idiot I was.”
Miles had mentioned that once before, and Reyes was curious. “You rebelled to get your parents’ attention.”
“That was the plan, but it didn’t really work. I stopped going to my riding lessons, I showed up late for competitions. Even when I flat-out quit, nothing. So I got worse. I started skipping school, smoking with the potheads, getting detention. I barely passed ninth grade, and they didn’t even notice.”
Reyes had a hard time imagining Miles as the weed-smoking, rebellious sort. He had a hard time picturing Miles doing some of the same stupid shit Reyes had done as a teenager.
I bet nothing Miles did led to another kid’s death.
“How did you spend your summer?” Reyes asked. “Raising hell?”
Miles snorted. “They sent me to a summer camp for rich kids, which is basically like boarding school without the studying. It was all boys, and while it was boring as hell most days, it definitely helped me figure out I was gay.”
“Did you...act on that attraction?”
“A little. I mean, when you’re around a bunch of teenage boys for two months, you end up experimenting, even if it’s all ‘no homo’ shit. I got blown, blew a few other guys. Some of the older guys fucked, I think, but I wasn’t ready for that.”
Reyes nodded, pleased by that information. And really pleased by how much Miles was telling him about his personal life. Telling him the things friends knew about each other. Giving Reyes a more vivid picture of the man he’d fallen for.
“Sophomore year was more of the same, me acting out. I got in with a group of guys who could get alcohol, cigarettes, and E for cheap, and we were hellions in school. I started stealing shit from convenience stores just for the thrill of it, because I had money. I was probably accepted into the group so fast because I was a rich kid who could pay for their liquor and drugs, so they shared with me.” He glanced at Reyes, his eyes uncertain. “It was definitely the worst phase of my life.”
Reyes guided Hot Coffee onto another trail when it forked in two directions. “What turned you around?”
Miles sighed. “We were out one night, driving around, doing shots and being hella irresponsible, as usual. I was in the back seat, and all I remember is puffing on a cigarette one minute, and then waking up with flashing lights all around us, the car upside down.”
“Fuck.” Reyes startled. “Were you hurt?”
“Broken collarbone, but one of my friends...he got tossed from the car when it swerved to avoid an oncoming van and started rolling down an incline. He died on the scene.”
“I’m so sorry, Miles.” His heart hurt for Miles’s old pain, and he wished they were close enough for Reyes to touch him. Even just to squeeze his wrist and offer that support.
Miles shrugged. “It was ten years ago, but that’s what really did it. One minute, my pal is alive and telling crude sex jokes, and the next he’s dead. I didn’t want to die young, too, so I got my shit together. Cut out the drugs and drinking, started pulling my grades back up with extra credit.” He reached down to pet Tango’s flank. “The weird part is the most concern and affection I ever got from my parents was after the accident. They came to my hospital room, my mother stayed home with me for the first few days until I adjusted to life with only my left hand. But then it was over, life back to normal and me in the background. Ignored.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It is what it is. But it put me on the path to creating my own life separate from them. I got scholarships so they didn’t have to pay all my tuition. I wanted as little from them as possible, and I worked my ass off to get where I am today.”
Safe and here with me.
Reyes puffed with pride over Miles’s accomplishments. “I know it isn’t the same as hearing it from your parents, but I am so proud of you, Miles. I mean it.”
“I know.” Miles’s gentle smile warmed his insides. “You’ve never lied to me. Not once since we first met.”
“I admit, I wasn’t always honest or trustworthy. I had my own rebellious years in high school, and I hurt a lot of people. My blood family in particular.”
Miles watched him with open curiosity, but Reyes wasn’t sure he was ready to see the shock and disappointment his truths would bring to Miles’s lovely face.
“If you ever want to talk about it,” Miles said after a few minutes of silence, “I’m a good listener.”
“I know, and thank you. Perhaps one day.”
They rode awhile longer, before Reyes led them toward the pond. It was in a valley dotted with trees, and they chose the largest of them for their campsite. A high place to tie their food and shelter for the horses, which they took care of first. Reyes tackled their tent, while Miles set about collecting wood and getting a small fire going.
The companionable silence was so easy, so familiar, that neither man felt the need to fill the air with small talk. They spoke very little during the setup of camp and preparation of dinner—canned beef stew that was easy to heat, along with some cornbread from Patrice’s kitchen. Warm water washed it all down.
Then they went to sit by the pond’s edge and admire the stars. The still water reflected the sky back to them, making it seem endless.
“You didn’t swim last year,” Reyes said, apropos of nothing. The memory simply jumped in and then popped out of his mouth.
“No.” Miles closed his eyes and let his chin drop to his chest.
“Can you swim?”
“Yes.” He looked up, his green eyes too shiny. “I was kind of a mess last year when I was here, and I wasn’t comfortable being that exposed to other people.”
Reyes resisted the urge to growl. “Because of something Dallas did?”
Miles nodded, but didn’t add anything. And why should he? Miles had already been incredibly honest with Reyes about his past tonight, opening himself up, and Reyes wanted to share a little bit of himself with Miles.
“Almost six years ago now, my ladder responded to an industrial fire in Lynwood, a neighborhood in Los Angeles,” Reyes said. “We had a rookie on the crew, a kid named Luke Russell. He was a good kid, earnest, ready to prove himself, so the chief told me to mentor him. Settle him down, so to speak, and I tried. This was his first major fire, though, and he was excited to get out there.”
Miles angled to face him more fully, but Reyes couldn’t meet his eyes, so he told this story to Miles’s throat.
“It was a pretty big fire and an old building, and we weren’t the only ladder on it. When a few area homeless said sometimes people squatted in that building, we were sent to look. Luke and I were given the third floor, because a lot of the fire hadn’t gotten there yet, and we had a safe staircase to use. I didn’t see anyone, but Luke insisted he did and he took off. Toward the fucking fire.”
A hand squeezed Reyes’s knee. He covered Miles’s with his and held tight.
“Luke wasn’t watching the floor, and his boot went through. He got stuck, and when I tried to help free him, the rest of it collapsed, and we both fell to the floor below. Got pinned by burning debris. It had started burning so hot below us, that even with our suits, we burned. My legs were on fire, and I couldn’t move. All I could do was radio over and over for help, while Luke slowly burned to death right next to me.” His voice fractured. “I couldn’t save him.”
“Oh, Reyes.” Miles wrapped his lean arm around Reyes’s shoulders and pressed his forehead into his neck. “It was an accident. A terrible, tragic accident.”
“It was my job to look out for him.” Reyes had no tears left to cry. He’d cried them all out in the grueling months afterward, as he accepted his role in getting Luke killed, and as he suffered through skin grafts and grueling physical therapy to walk again.
“It wasn’t your fault he died.”
Reyes looped an arm around Miles’s shoulders, grateful for the support. He’d been told that over and over, for years without believing it. But when Miles said it...it was easier to believe. He didn’t have the same history with Miles as he had with Mack and Colt, and even his brothers at the firehouse. Miles wasn’t trying to assuage his guilt, he was simply being honest. Still... “His parents still lost their son. His siblings a brother.”
“A preventable accident.”
“You can’t know that for sure. What if his boot hadn’t gotten stuck and he went deeper into the building? What if you’d fallen through in a different room and you’d both been killed?”
“What if we’d both gotten out safely?”
“But you didn’t. It happened, just like what I went through with Dallas happened. But you didn’t kill Luke. Your actions didn’t kill Luke. A fire started and he got stuck. Period. His death was an accident, Reyes.”
Reyes looked up at the heartache in Miles’s voice, then turned Miles’s head so their eyes met. Miles’s expression was sad, but also determined. Reyes’s heart fluttered, because those words finally sank in. He’d mourned Luke’s death and blamed himself, sometimes wishing he’d died instead. But he hadn’t, and Reyes needed to learn to live with that. To really accept that it was an accident, and Miles had finally hammered that point home. “It was an accident,” Reyes said tentatively, the words strange on his tongue.
“An accident,” Miles repeated. “And look at it this way. If you’d died instead, I never would have met you.”
Those words hit home for Reyes. If he’d died, he wouldn’t have been here to meet Miles. They wouldn’t have spent the past few months getting to know each other, becoming friends.
I wouldn’t be here to love him.
And Reyes did love Miles, not only as a friend, but as a platonic lover, and he’d never risk losing their friendship by admitting that.
“You’re right,” Reyes whispered. “I’m so glad to have met you.”
“Same.” Miles swallowed hard once, his gaze flittering to Reyes’s mouth. Then he turned his face toward the stars. “Thank you for telling me about Luke. Is that why you don’t ever wear shorts? Because you burned your legs?”
“Yes. It isn’t vanity, exactly. When people see burns, the least tactful always want to know how you got them. Only person I don’t bother hiding them from is Mack, because he knows it all. Every secret, every bad thing I ever did.”
Except for one.
“I get it. I wish I’d had a friend like Mack my whole life like you did. Maybe I never would have fallen for Dallas and his bullshit.”
“Maybe. But then maybe you and I never would have met.”
Miles looked at him, his lips quirking. “True. Past is past, right?”
“Right.” And Reyes was tired of their pasts intruding on this otherwise beautiful night. “I think I’m about ready to turn in. You?”
“I’m going to sit here for a while.”
“Okay. See you in the morning, Miles.”
“Yeah. Good night.”
Reyes studied Miles’s peaceful profile for a moment, glad he was leaving the younger man in a good mood, before getting up and heading for the tent. And for the first time in years, some of his burden of guilt over Luke’s death disappeared.
Thank you, Miles. Thank you for this gift.
* * *
Miles woke to the unexpected sensation of a hot body pressing against his back and ass, and he froze, confused and frightened, until he caught the familiar cadence of Reyes’s deep breathing and a hint of his cologne. Camping with Reyes. And while yes, their backs and butts appeared to be pressed close, they still had two sleeping bags between them.
Not that Miles wouldn’t have minded a proper morning cuddle, but he didn’t want to send Reyes mixed messages. Do things that conflicted with his spoken desire not to have a romantic relationship with the man.
Except, didn’t they kind of already have one? They spent time together, lived together, and were each other’s emotional support person. They defended each other. Shared friends and a social circle. Everything couples did, except get physical. And not all couples did that. Miles had worked with a line cook last year who was asexual and in a completely platonic, romantic relationship with a woman.
Miles wanted to have sex again, eventually, but he wasn’t ready. He still had too many issues to work through before that could happen.
He also wasn’t working through those issues; instead, he was doing everything possible to ignore them entirely. Hell, he’d come all the way to Clean Slate to avoid his issues. He’d also come for Reyes, even if he had a hard time admitting it. But he couldn’t have Reyes, so there was no sense in dreaming.
His bladder full, Miles sat up and reached for the zipper. Pulled slowly, so the noise didn’t wake Reyes. A flash of brown outside made him freeze, heart in his throat. Miles leaned forward and peeked through the small opening he’d made.
A coyote and five pups were rough-and-tumbling-it near the pond. Miles stared, wishing for his camera, but unwilling to startle the family into bolting. As quietly as he could, he woke Reyes and indicated he should look. Reyes grinned at the family, then opened the tent just enough so they could both see out, cheeks pressed together.
One pup tried to chew another’s ear, and a third used that distraction to pounce on them both. Miles had no idea how old they were, but they were adorable, just like any other puppies out on a play date. Reyes pulled out his phone and stealthily snapped a few photos. Miles couldn’t stop looking to find his.
This was the ranch land in action. The wildlife that roamed and reinvented itself spring after spring, living next to men without bothering them, and vice versa. The little coyote family was no threat to them.
Eventually, they drank from the pond and moved on.
“That was beautiful,” Reyes said. “Thank you for waking me up to witness it.”
“I needed someone to share it with. Other than in a zoo, this is the closest I’ve ever been to a real wild animal.”
“Haven’t seen many coyotes myself over the years, but when I do they’re usually farther out. Maybe this is their watering hole.”
“Maybe.” Miles grinned. “I’m glad the big blue tent didn’t scare them away.”
“Same.”
They continued smiling at each other, and something new shifted between them. Another understanding of how similarly they viewed the world. Of how much they treasured nature and all of her gifts. How they both found simple beauty in a world that tried to make beauty so damned complex and expensive.
And that shift scared him, because Miles wasn’t sure he was ready for it. So he excused himself from the tent to relieve himself, confused and elated and everything else in between.
I want him. But I’m too much of a coward to reach for him.
Maybe one day, after a lot more self-care, Miles would have the courage to reach for what he wanted. To step outside of his protective bubble and chase the happiness that, deep down, he believed he deserved. To be finally, truly happy.
Please.