Page 22 of To Have and To Hold
She might’ve broken down in tears if she only knew how much that sentiment meant to him.
“I missed you, too,” he told her, smiling as he skimmed the room, seeing the familiar faces.
The second his eyes landed on Slade, his world shifted to a slow crawl. He looked just as good as Atticus remembered. Better even. He was wearing his signature Wranglers and boots, a black T-shirt that molded to his muscular torso.
“Hey.” Slade slowly got to his feet, his eyes raking over Atticus from head to toe and back up.
The approval he saw in the man’s eyes felt like a physical caress that moved over him slowly.
“Hey,” he managed, feeling that same rush he got every time he’d thought about Slade since the night they’d spent together.
One night with Slade changed Atticus’s entire existence. More so than the one night he’d spent with Carson, and at the time, he’d thought nothing could top that.
Because of those two men, Atticus had left town plagued with both anticipation and worry. As the weeks had passed, the worry had faded, and he’d been overwhelmed by hopes of a future. Granted, it was a future far different than anything he could’ve ever imagined since, somewhere along the way, he’d gotten on board with the idea of being with two men. That was Carson’s fault since the man was a self-proclaimed voyeur. For weeks now, Atticus had fantasized about how that might play into a relationship that defied any happily ever afters he could’ve conjured up. He didn’t yet know what that looked like, but he was eager to find out.
“I didn’t think you were gettin’ back till next week,” Evan said, stepping out of the kitchen.
“Early release,” he joked.
Evan gestured with his coffee cup. “We’ve made a few changes since you left.”
It was then Atticus realized the barn had been rearranged so that Atticus’s desk was now on the other side of Slade’s. Looked like Holly now had a desk on the main floor, directly across from Atticus’s. Probably the reason for the shift. Making room and all that.
He scanned the rest of the space to see what else was different.
At least, that was what he told himself he was doing. Really, he was trying not to ogle Slade because the man was now sidestepping his desk to move closer. Damn, he looked good. He seemed even bigger than he remembered. Maybe he was.
As he stood there, the awkward silence was growing thicker between them. Atticus had no idea what he was supposed to say. He knew he shouldn’t do what he wanted to do—stroll right up to him and kiss him—because that would only add to the awkwardness. For the rest of the team, anyway. And maybe for Slade.
“I’m glad you’re back,” Slade said.
Atticus forced a smile. “Yeah. Me, too.”
Thankfully, Reese and Brantley chose that moment to come in. If they realized you could cut the tension with a knife, thankfully, they didn’t say anything. Not about that anyway.
***
It was possible Slade was dreaming.
The man standing before him sounded like Atticus, but he didn’t quite look like the same man he’d spent the night with four weeks ago. The skinny guy who’d toppled Slade’s entire existence was …different.Physically, at least.
His face had filled out, as had his body. The cords in his neck stood out along the muscles that were now more prominent. Atticus wasn’t a big guy, but for his stature, he looked solid. There hadn’t been an ounce of fat on him when he left, but he’d certainly picked up some muscle along the way. His biceps had doubled in size, as had his forearms. He was … jeezus, the guy was magnificent.
“Holy shit, man,” Brantley said when he looked at Atticus for the first time. “Someone whipped your ass into shape.”
“Z did,” Atticus admitted, turning to look at the big boss.
“Really? Damn. You look like you could bench-press a house.”
Atticus laughed, and Slade smiled. God, it was fucking good to see him. He hadn’t heard from Atticus in weeks, and with every day that passed, he’d worried that he never would. At one point, he’d even convinced himself that Atticus had been a figment of his imagination.
But here he was.
“How was it? The trainin’ program?” Reese asked.
“Enlightening.”
I’ll say.There was something different about him, and Slade wasn’t merely referring to the muscles. He seemed to stand taller, more confident.
