Page 48 of The Banker and the Blue Collar Man

“And these?” He looked up at me, his eyes bright, as though tears sparked the edges. “And no one-word answers, please.”

“Well.” I blew out a breath. That was one word. I was already messing this up.

I looked beyond him to the strong trunks of the cottonwood trees and the spindly, graceful river willows lining the bank of Snow Creek just beyond that. When I’d first come to the ranch, I’d discovered them, and would often come and sit in the damp hollows between their waving branches. I loved their spicy smell.

“Jake.”

I looked at him. At the stern light in his beautiful eyes.

This was it: time to share the hard stuff. The thing the journalist had complained that I never did. He’d left. I didn’t want Dalton to leave until he had to, so I needed to talk. With him it wouldn’t be as bad as it might have been with someone else, but still, it was hard.

“There was a barbecue in the backyard,” I began. “I don’t know which house.”

I scratched my head. Not stalling, but digging for memories I’d buried long ago.

“All that BBQ chicken and shish kebabs smelled so good, I just wanted to try some. My dinner was a hot dog. I was promised two if I was good. I was old enough to know better. Too hungry to care. A bit of chicken had fallen from a skewer onto the grill. I reached for it. The father?—”

Dalton’s face went white, his eyes snapping. Dark. Angry. As angry as if he’d been there and seen the whole thing.

I made myself go on. Best to get it over with, so we could get back to what we’d been doing in the glade. Enjoying each other on that blanket, the rest of the world a million miles away.

“He grabbed an empty skewer that had been left on the grill. I was wearing cotton shorts. He pulled them down and hit me with it. The metal was very hot. I rolled away. The end.”

My lower lip hurt, and I realized I was biting it. Dalton lifted his hand to soothe the bitten spot. Then he rose on his knees to gently kiss the bite away.

He scooted closer, laying his knee against my thigh, his hand stroking my skin, up and down. “That sounds horrible,” he said, not asking for any additional grisly details. “How long were you in foster care? How many mothers and fathers?”

“I was lucky—I always had one of each,” I said, knowing in the back of my mind I was stalling. “Lots of kids didn’t.”

“Jake.” His voice was very low, and his expression, his tight mouth and steady gaze, told me plainly he didn’t want me stalling.

“Since I was three.”

He blew out a breath.

“I guess. I came here after I aged out at eighteen. Walter was my mentor. Then he died.”

I didn’t want to add that I was all alone now, because I wasn’t. I’d been lucky to have known Walter at all. Jesse always had my back. Malcolm was a very good friend to me. I was friendly with the other ranch hands.

“I’m thirty now,” I added, rather than making him ask so he could do the math.

“That’s a long time, Jake,” he said.

“Yes,” I said. What I wanted to say wasNever mind all that. I have this, now, with you, and that’s worth everything to me. But I couldn’t imagine saying anything like that out loud. So poetic. Hearts and flowers had never been my thing.

He shook his head and looked at the blanket, where the small bottle of lube waited, its cap still in place, the spout still shut.

“Now you,” I said, because that’s how sharing went. At least that’s what I thought.

“Me,” he agreed. “But not right now.”

With a quick motion, he straddled me, his weight low on my thighs, pressing my legs to the blanket as he balanced and grabbed for the lube at the same time. He used his thumb to snap it open and poured some into his palm. Using both hands, he warmed it, then reached down and coated my cock with it. Spreading it around with his fingers, the master of his craft.

I looked him in the eye as he did this, leaving it up to him. Whatever he wanted. However he wanted it. That was what I wanted.

When I was good and hard, my cock glistening, he eased forward, moving from the tops of my thighs, rising up, knees bracketing my hips. Then he planted a hand on either side of my shoulders. He was close enough to kiss. I wanted the darkness in his eyes to fade.

“Come on, then,” he said brightly. “You. Inside me. Now.”