Sticks & Stones

Mara glanced up at him, eyes wide. She nodded. “They are. For the most part. I wonder about a person who’d choose to be one of his own accord,” she admitted, her voice low. “Grady boys have been Marines for a long time. Drafted, every one of ’em. When Ty was born, and then Deacon, I swore they’d be the first who didn’t have to fight for a living. And then Ty went and volunteered,” she said with a sorrowful shake of her head. “I was proud of him, mind you. But I cried for a month.”



Zane didn’t know what to say to that. From what he did know of Ty, he could imagine his partner had been on fire to move when he graduated high school, and the Marines gave him his way out. He wondered if Ty knew what it had done to his mother.



Mara looked up at him, her cheeks flushing. “I’m sorry, Zane, I didn’t mean to go into that.”



It was easier than he thought to meet her eyes. “He’s talked about you a few times. Good things,” he said quietly.



Mara smiled, the wrinkles around her eyes and mouth appearing briefly. “He’s a good boy. I just wish he didn’t like to shoot things quite so much.”



Zane couldn’t stop the sharp laugh, marveling at how Mara seemed to be able to take everything in stride. “Well, I guess we’ll have to disagree, since he’s watching my back.”



Mara nodded as she dumped another handful of apple slices into her bowl. Her face was set in a frown now, her brow furrowed and her eyes thoughtful. In the silence, Zane could hear Ty chopping wood, the occasional grunt of exertion accompanying the thwack of the axe hitting.



“He’s probably about done with that pile,” Mara observed. “If you want a shower before dinner you best go do it now before he gets in,” she advised.



Zane scooted back and stood to take his glass to the sink. As he set it down, he looked back outside and watched for a long moment. “I’m going to see if he has any other plans. Otherwise I’m good for tonight.” He turned around and offered Mara a smile before walking to the back door.



Mara’s chair creaked as she turned to look over her shoulder at him. “You’re a good boy, Zane,” she told him as she went back to peeling her apples.



Zane paused on the doorstep to look back at her in mild surprise. He wasn’t sure what that was about, but it seemed a motherly thing to say, so he decided not to think on it and just appreciate the sentiment. He stepped outside, let the screen door snap shut behind him, took a few paces along the stone path, and stopped a healthy distance away to watch and wait for Ty to stop.



It only took a few more minutes for Ty to finish the pile. Once he’d arranged the last few halves into a woodpile that wouldn’t topple, he picked up his T-shirt and swiped it over his damp body. He looked up and stopped briefly, betraying his surprise at seeing Zane standing there.



Raising an eyebrow in mimicry, Zane tipped his head to the side. “Didn’t know I was here?” he asked, amused.



“Thought you were asleep,” Ty answered as he moved closer. He was slightly out of breath, his hair wet with sweat.



“Woke up about fifteen minutes ago. Sat with your mom and had a snack.” Zane didn’t even try to look away.



Ty narrowed his eyes and looked him over. “What?” he asked suspiciously.



Zane waggled his eyebrows and smirked, dragging his eyes up and down over Ty’s sweaty and very appealing body.



Ty looked down at himself and then rolled his eyes. “I know,” he muttered as his cheeks colored. “All I need is the long blond hair, right?” he asked wryly, poking fun at himself even though it was obvious he was embarrassed. He wiped himself down with the T-shirt again and walked over to pluck his other shirt from the branch he’d hung it on.



“Don’t change anything on my account,” Zane murmured, sliding his hands into his back pockets. “Different than a gym workout, you know?”



Ty moved toward him, his shirts hanging from his hand. “You a little turned on, Garrett?” he asked with a smirk, his tone surprised.



“More than a little, Grady,” Zane said under his breath. He sighed as Ty approached, eyeing him warily.



Ty hummed wordlessly. “Too bad there’s no wood to chop back home then,” he joked.



Zane shrugged slightly. His smile was just as obvious as before. “I’m sure I could find you some wood to work on,” he said evenly, eyes twinkling.



Ty’s lips twitched as he tried not to smile. “That’s after-dinner talk, there,” he drawled before he started laughing. “We’ve really got to work on your word play,” he said as he moved closer and, to Zane’s surprise, put his arm around Zane’s shoulders as he turned him toward the house. He smelled of a mixture of sweat, wood, shampoo, Old Spice, and… Ty.



Zane chuckled and they bumped against each other randomly as Ty maneuvered them up the walk to the door. “There’s always something you want me to work on,” he complained. “We’re supposed to be on vacation, for Christ’s sake.”



Ty merely squeezed Zane’s shoulders before releasing him, and Zane grinned at him as he opened the screen door and motioned him inside.



Chapter 5



IT HAD been an incredible dinner—a huge, tender pork roast with all the trimmings, hot yeast rolls, and apple cobbler for dessert. Zane had finally sat back from the table, stuffed to the gills. It had been a nice, relaxing day. He’d napped, been shown around the place, been told stories of the havoc Ty and Deuce had wreaked upon the community in their youth, and had taken a short trip into the town of Bluefield to load up on supplies for the hike.



Ty had promised him a better tour of his hometown at a later date, and Zane was actually looking forward to it. He hadn’t seen much more of Ty’s parents. Mara had spent the day cooking and making various and sundry edible things for them to take with them on the trail, and Earl had headed back to the mines.



Ty had carefully avoided anything even remotely concerning the mines or accompanying his father. Zane didn’t blame him. They’d sat on the front porch and relaxed for the remainder of the day, not even really speaking much as each of them tried to unwind and accept their forced vacation for what it was.



Once dinner was over and they were sitting around the table enjoying the last cup of coffee for the night, Mara stood and tapped Ty on the top of the head. “Come help me make up the couch,” she requested.



Ty sat back and frowned at her. “I have to sleep on the couch?” he asked her incredulously. “I’ve slept on rocks more comfortable than that thing!”



“Then you go out back and find yourself a rock so you’ll feel better about it,” Mara suggested.



“Couch?” Zane asked in a low voice as he leaned closer to Earl, an eyebrow rising.



Earl was smiling widely. He nodded when Zane looked to him. “My wife has made up Ty’s old bedroom for you,” he told him in a low voice as Ty and Mara argued over the merits of the couch cushions versus the rocks out back.



“Oh Christ.” Zane laughed, falling back in his chair. “He won’t let me forget this. Losing his bed to me.”



“Well,” Earl said with a sigh, “it’s either that or fight his mama over it.” He sat and watched Ty and Mara for a moment, sipping at his coffee contentedly. “Ain’t none of us ever won that fight,” he told Zane flatly.



“Me and Zane’ll just bunk together,” Ty was arguing.



Mara laughed at him. “You two boys won’t fit in a double bed any more than I’ll still fit in my wedding dress,” she scoffed.



“But—”



“I know Zane would end up on the floor when you’re done with him,” Mara continued, “and I will not have a guest in this house sleeping on the rug, so come help me make up the couch.”



Ty glanced at Zane, his lips twitching at the irony of what his mother said. They would fit in a double bed together just fine, but only because they had a lot of practice with occupying the same space while horizontal.



“I’ll make a pallet on the floor, Ma,” Ty assured Mara. She looked at him dubiously, but he just smiled at her innocently. “For myself,” he added.



Mara rolled her eyes, smiling as she turned away. “Fine,” she agreed. “As long as he don’t end up on the floor,” she warned.



“Not like tomorrow night, when we’ll all be on the floor,” Deuce mumbled.



“Outdoors in the cold,” Earl added from behind his mug.



“With the rocks,” Ty concluded as he glanced sideways at his mother and smirked.



“Buncha dumbasses,” Chester muttered as he stood and shuffled out of the room.



“Get out of my kitchen, all of you,” Mara ordered with an irritated wave of her hand.



Ty and Deuce practically scattered, leaving Zane to fend for himself. Earl remained where he sat, finishing his coffee and laughing softly. Shaking his head at their retreat, Zane said his goodnights and walked up the stairs. Earlier in the day, he and Ty had brought their bags upstairs to the spare room—Ty’s former bedroom—and now he pushed the door shut with a soft click as he sat down to pull off his boots.



Looking around the room, he realized that it wasn’t so much a spare room as it was still Ty’s bedroom. The walls were still adorned with the trappings of high school life: pictures, awards, trophies, and knickknacks lined the shelves and hung from the walls.



It was enlightening to see a younger Ty, before the FBI, before the military. Zane stood up and started around the room, smiling at some of the photos. Ty’s wide grin was clear, so much more so than now. He’d been happy and unbothered by life’s problems.



As Zane surveyed the items displayed on the shelves, he gained little pieces of insight into what had been important to Ty then. There was an old football with faded writing on it, as well as several ribbons that signified first and third place finishes, but they didn’t tell what they were for. There was a fiddle case on a shelf near the window and an old guitar beside it, and Zane smiled as he remembered how appalled Ty had been when he’d admitted he knew how to play.



Almost every photo on the wall had Ty’s brother in it as well. They’d obviously always been close, even more so then than now. One of the most prominent pictures was of the two of them standing together in front of the old garage that still stood beside the house. They were both covered in grease, wearing nasty coveralls, holding wrenches as they wrapped their arms over each other’s shoulders and grinned at the camera. Behind them was an old motorcycle, halfway through being restored.



As he stared at it, he wondered again why Ty hated the Valkyrie so much.



He wasn’t sure how long he’d been standing there before he heard the click of the door and felt that he was no longer alone.



“Snoop,” Ty accused softly as he moved into the room quietly.



Zane smiled. “Kind of hard to miss photos when the walls are papered with them.”



Ty lowered his head and smiled as he slid his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I left a week after I graduated high school,” he said. “Ma never touched this room. I don’t think she’s even vacuumed it.” Zane turned to face his partner. Ty was staring at him, his head slightly cocked. “She was afraid I’d never come back,” he said with a hint of melancholy. “Wanted it to stay like I left it.”



Zane nodded slowly. “Mine feels the same way,” he said quietly. “They love you, though.”



Ty raised an eyebrow and nodded. “You saying yours don’t?” he asked as he moved closer.



Zane’s shoulders tightened. “No. Doesn’t mean I don’t wonder about my mom sometimes.” He watched Ty approach and slid his hands into his jeans pockets to mirror his stance.



Ty stopped just inches away from him, studying him with an unreadable expression. “I’ll get Ma to bake you a pie, make you feel better,” he offered finally, his tone of voice and his expression entirely serious. The only way to know that he was teasing was the slight glint in his hazel eyes.



Zane’s lips twitched at the ultra-dry humor. “Can’t say I’ve ever had a pie baked for me before. My mom’s more the cookie type.”



Ty snorted in disdain and turned away, heading for the double bed. He flopped down on the end of it and bent to begin unlacing his boots. “She always has one waiting for us when we get back from a hike. Apple, usually. Good stuff, man.”



“Sounds good,” Zane agreed. He was glad he had his hands in his pockets; his fingers were itching to touch Ty, but he had no idea what Ty would allow, especially here in his parents’ home. He toed out of his running shoes and unbuckled his belt, his gaze not wavering.



Ty seemed to sense his eyes on him, and he looked up at him questioningly as he pulled off one boot. Zane shook his head very slightly and glanced to the door Ty had left half-open. Ty followed his eyes and then smiled as he looked back at Zane.



“Getting a little antsy?” he teased.



“Yes,” Zane said immediately.



“Why?” Ty asked.



“We’re in the bedroom you grew up in,” Zane pointed out. “I’m not sure what to expect with you here.”



Ty began to laugh softly, and he bit his lip to keep from laughing harder as he pulled his other boot off and set it carefully beside the first at the foot of the bed. “We’re not doing anything wrong, Garrett,” he pointed out. “We’re just sleeping here,” he said with a wry twist of his lips as he stood back up.



Zane rolled his eyes and decided some reciprocal teasing was in order. “Fine. Then you can close your eyes and ‘sleep’ while I undress,” he proposed innocently, pulling his hands out of his pockets and pulling his shirt over his head, letting it fall on the foot of the bed. He knew Ty enjoyed this part of their time together; he did too. The chemistry between them seemed to click just a little better when they got up close and personal.