Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Lane
By the end of February, the Entwinin’ festival seemed to be all anyone was talking about.
“I’m just saying, we have extra wisteria vines in the back if you need any,” Hunter said as he leaned over his kitchen island to set a cup of coffee by my elbow. I’d stopped by to take a look at his pet turkey poult, Tammy Wynette, who seemed to be thriving if a little spoiled, and when he’d offered me a drink, I’d taken the chance to get out of the blustery gray day.
The truth was, Hunter and Charlie’s kitchen had become one of my favorite places in the Thicket. It was always bright and cheerful, always smelled like Thanksgiving—probably because the men stocked up enough food at the Thicket’s side-dish festival, the Gobblin’, to last all year—and always made my chest feel warm and tight in a good way. Charlie and Hunter gave each other shit constantly, but the love they had for each other was audible in every teasing word.
I finished making a note about when Tammy might need her next vaccine before giving Hunter a curious look. “That’s nice of you, but what would I need wisteria for?”
“Well, because… uh.” Hunter looked flummoxed for a moment before casually hip-checking the man beside him. “Tell him, Charlie.”
“Because of the Entwinin’, of course.” Charlie looked up from where he’d been peeling the skin off a few cloves of garlic. “Oh, shit, Lane. I bet no one’s told you about?—”
“They have,” I assured him. “Hunter mentioned it months ago, and Jay works on wreaths every night before we—” I cleared my throat, feeling my cheeks go hot. “That is to say, I’ve noticed that Jaybird makes wreaths. But the festival’s not until early April, right?”
“True.” Charlie rested his hands on the counter and leaned across, making eye contact with me. “But the Entwinin’s not a last-minute sort of thing. Not if you do it right. Anyone who wants to make a good wreath needs to source their vines now before the only ones left are the old, dried-up, gnarly ones. You want to make a good wreath, don’t you?”
I looked between the two of them. “Why would I make a wreath at all? They’re mostly for couples, aren’t they? Or best friends?”
Hunter and Charlie exchanged one of their looks that was more like a whole conversation, the shorthand of partners who knew and loved each other well. I took a sip of coffee while I contemplated what they weren’t saying.
Charlie raised one eyebrow and tilted his head toward me.
Hunter shook his head—a single, insistent negative.
Charlie raised a second eyebrow.
Hunter set his jaw.
Charlie bit his lip, and his gaze went liquid and pleading.
Hunter’s shoulders slumped, and he sighed.
“That’s… mostly true, Lane,” Hunter said carefully. “Entwinin’ wreaths aren’t like Valentine’s cards, where you give them to just anyone. Or like Christmas wreaths, where you put one on the door to celebrate the season in general. A wreath is a gesture of affection for the most important person or people in your life. A way of saying you love and appreciate them.”
I nodded. I knew this.
“And do you… I mean… can you think of anyone you’d like to give a wreath to?” he prompted. “Maybe… someone you spend all your free time with, and talk about constantly, and who smiles at you so hard he once walked into a street sign in broad daylight, just as an example?”
Jay’s handsome face and sweet, goofy smile swam through my mind, and as usual, just thinking about the man made me sigh happily.
A few weeks ago, I’d thought we were total opposites—like a fish and a bird—but now I knew better. We were different, sure, but in the way that bees and flowers were different. Somehow, our differences worked.
We weren’t sweethearts, though.
Nope.
We were friends … though I wouldn’t flatter myself that I was Jay’s best friend since he had many.
We were… friends with benefits.
Casual friends with benefits.
The kind who ate dinner together most nights before the benefits began, then shared a bed after the benefits were over, and had established sides of the bed… for benefit reasons only.
Friends who did thoughtful, casual things, like bringing each other snacks every single day at a specific time and taking care of a small muster of peacocks together every morning.
Friends who spent all their free time together because, at least in my case, there was no one in the world I’d rather spend time with, and everything felt right and easy when I was with him, and…
I sucked in a breath.
Oh my God, Jaybird Proud was my sweetheart.
How the hell had that happened?
My mind immediately tried to reject the idea. If my last relationship had taught me anything, it was that I didn’t know shit about relationships. I didn’t know how to be emotionally available. I didn’t know how to do romance. It had taken Chad just a couple of weeks after our breakup to find himself someone better. It was only a matter of time until Jay figured this out.
But at the same time… now that I’d acknowledged them to myself, I found I couldn’t deny my feelings for Jay.
My Entwinin ’ feelings.
I wanted Jay to know how amazing and special he was…
But how could I tell him without, you know, telling him ?
“Lane?” Charlie waved a hand in front of my face. “Hey, Lane?”
“Huh?” I glanced up blankly.
“Great.” Charlie lifted his hands and let them flop at his sides. “We broke him.”
“We? This conversation was your idea,” Hunter pointed out.
Charlie lifted his chin. “You’re my fiancé. My ideas are our ideas.”
Hunter laughed and tugged on Charlie’s hair. “Sure they are, baby. I’ll remember this when I have an idea tonight. Hey, Lane? Is everything alright?”
“Yeah. No, yeah, I’m great. I just, uh…” My cheeks burned. “Do people ever make Entwinin’ wreaths in secret? Like from a secret admirer?” I asked, trying to be vague and generalized.
Hunter pierced me with a look. “If you’re making a wreath for Jaybird Proud, you’d better give it to him in person.”
“Jay? Who said anything about… Why would I make a wreath for Jay? Don’t be ridiculous.”
Hunter and Charlie exchanged a look before Charlie set down his garlic press, moved around the island, and perched on the stool next to me. “You probably don’t know this, but when you talk about Jay, the tips of your ears turn red, and your eyelashes do a strange, fluttery thing.”
Hunter snorted, and Charlie muttered an affectionate curse at him before focusing back on me. “It’s actually very sweet. I can’t think of a more deserving person than Jaybird Proud, nor can I think of a kinder man to set you up with.”
“W-we’re not dating ,” I stammered, concentrating on keeping my eyelashes still. “Exactly.”
“Fine,” Charlie said with an eye roll. “But consider making him a wreath anyway.”
Hunter added, “Jay’s made hundreds of wreaths for others over the years, but I’m not sure he’s actually ever received one.”
My eyes snapped over to his. “Never?”
I remembered Jay saying he’d never made a wreath for a sweetheart, but it seemed unbelievable that no one had ever made one for him. Jay was the most generous man in town. The kindest man I’d ever met. He was beautiful inside and out.
“So he’s never had a… like a…” I tried to say the word boyfriend , but the very idea of him dating someone made the coffee in my stomach turn sour.
“No,” Hunter said with a knowing grin. “At least, not that I know of or that the town’s known of. Not for lack of setups, though. He’s a prime target for the town matchmakers, poor guy.”
Charlie looked at Hunter. “Did the two of you ever…?”
My stomach dropped when Hunter bounced his eyebrows back at Charlie. “Bow chicka bow wow,” he sang, rotating his hips. “Where to begin with me and Jay? Let’s see…” He put his fingertip on his chin and pursed his lips.
I tried to imagine that finger or those lips on Jay— my Jay—and the idea made me sick.
“You’re upsetting Lane,” Charlie warned with a growl.
“Ah, it’s Lane who’s upset. Riiiight.” Hunter turned to wink at me. “No, Jay and I never did anything. Correction, we went out for a beer one time, but we ended up mediating a fight between Hux and Kev. I believe it was in regards to pilfered apples, although they seemed to be magical, video game apples… which was a bit confusing and required quite a bit of detailed explanation. Before I knew it, I was knee-deep in harvesting pixelated virility gourds.” He shuddered. “I ended up having to do a six-week detox course just to stop caring about my homestead and orchards.”
Charlie muttered, “Don’t get him started talking about Horn of Glory , or poor Tammy Wynette will die of old age before you get a chance to give her a follow-up visit.”
Hunter shot him a look. “I’m clean. One thousand days HOG sober. And don’t worry. Jay didn’t take to the video game like I did.”
“So you never hooked up with Jay?” I asked, just for clarification’s sake.
“No. Never.” He tilted his head. “Have you ?”
I let out a breath. “Yes. We… we’re hooking up.”
“You don’t say,” Charlie said in a dry voice.
“And… and I think I want it to be more than that,” I went on in a whisper. The realization made my heart beat like hummingbird wings. “It’s just… I suck at relationships. After my last breakup, I swore I was never going to do that again. At least, not anytime soon. And here I am, wanting more with Jay…”
“Jay’s a good man,” Hunter said. “One of the best.”
“I know. He’s always there to lend a hand. And the man would rather die than ever let you pay him back. He’s… he’s amazing. But that doesn’t mean I know how to be a good boyfriend.”
Charlie slid an arm around Hunter’s waist and leaned against his side. “Actually, Lane… you’d be surprised. Finding the right guy sometimes makes all the difference.”
Hunter pressed a kiss to Charlie’s head. “Agreed. Relationships require two people caring enough to make them work. When they end, it’s never just one person’s fault.”
I took a breath and considered this. When Chad had blamed me, I’d believed him because he was right—I hadn’t been as invested in our relationship as I should have been. But I couldn’t imagine not caring about Jay’s happiness. The man had fascinated me from the beginning, even when I’d been mistrusting and befuddled by his kindness.
“But… what if I tell Jay I want more, and it doesn’t work out? Everyone in town will know. It’ll be awkward as fuck.”
Charlie nodded. “The small-town thing’s hard to get used to.”
“Actually, it’s the opposite. Athens is a small place, too. Everyone knew everything about Chad and me, which was why I wanted to move away after our breakup and his marriage. I want to be with Jay, but I don’t want everyone else’s business in my business about it.”
Charlie shook his head. “That’s not really an option here, I’m afraid. Less than forty-eight hours after Hunter and I went official, people started getting involved. Someone—my money’s on Hunter’s sister—anonymously dropped off a congratulatory lube basket… which is exactly what it sounds like, by the way.”
A snicker burbled out of me, and I clapped my hand over my mouth.
“At least the lube was useful and, like you said, anonymous. ” Hunter’s tone was aggrieved. “Unlike your grandfather cornering me outside the Tavern to discuss ‘a Nutter man’s unique needs’ and make sure I’d be ‘a good provider.’ Don’t you dare laugh, Charlton. I was afraid he’d offer me a demonstration.”
Laughing, Charlie buried his face in Hunter’s chest. “I know, baby. I know. It was awful… but also kinda sweet. Meddling comes with the territory around here, I’m afraid.”
I groaned. “So you’re telling me I need to bite the bullet? Just… wreath him in front of the whole town and tell him flat out that I’ve developed real feelings for him? We haven’t even been on a date.”
Hunter shrugged. “You could always tell him with tots first. It’s the time-honored tradition here, after all.”
I glanced back and forth between them, wondering what the fuck they were talking about. “Tots? As in… children?”
“Nope. As in taters. Shredded potatoes.” Hunter settled himself on a stool while Charlie went back to pressing garlic into the giant pot of spaghetti sauce he was making. Hunter’s voice was no longer teasing, and I could tell he wanted to help. “See, we have a date restaurant here,” he began. “You might say it’s the romance capital of the Thicket. And if you take your honey to the Steak n’ Bait?—”
“No.” I glanced between them. “The Steak n’ Bait? Come on.”
“You live in a town that celebrates the Lickin’, the Bobbin’, the Gobblin’, and the Entwinin’, Lane.” Charlie tapped the side of his spoon against his pot of sauce. “Of course it’s called the Steak n’ Bait.”
Well, when he put it like that…
“At the Steak n’ Bait,” Hunter continued, “they serve a famous dish of tater tots all done up with toppings. It’s to die for. But back in the day, before they got their auto-shredder, it took a while for them to make ‘em. It became a tradition that you’d only order tots when you were with someone you didn’t mind spending all that time with.” He grinned. “Folks started saying stuff like, ‘Now, that’s a guy I wouldn’t mind waitin’ on tots with . ’”
Charlie nodded. “It kinda took on a life of its own, like most things in the Thicket do, and became a symbol of love and commitment. It means you’re on an important date… or you’re proposing marriage.”
“Tater tots?” I asked, just to be sure. “Are a symbol of love and commitment?”
He nodded slowly. “You can’t explain small-town traditions, Lane. You just have to live them.”
“I… see.”
“Jaybird Proud is an integral part of this town,” Hunter pointed out. “He’s lived here his whole life, and he speaks in the language of the Thicket. If you want to confess heartfelt feelings in a way he’ll really understand… do it with tots and twinin’.”
After finishing our conversation and another cup of coffee, I headed home.
On the short drive to the house, I was so full of affection for Jay, so happy with my decision to confess my feelings to him, I decided to do both.
I’d make reservations for lunch at the Steak n’ Bait, and I’d make him his very own Entwinin’ wreath to give to him at the festival.
If Licking Thicket was part of who Jay was—and I could see that plain as day—then I would make sure Jay knew I saw that part of him and loved it too.
When I parked and got out of my car, I took a deep breath of bracing winter air and let it out. This was the right decision, and I didn’t want to fuck it up. I would take my time about it and get it right… and figure out how the hell one twined a wreath in the first place.
In the meantime, I would spend as much time enjoying Jay as he’d let me.
Granted, our work schedules were busy. I was working extra hours since springtime’s babies had already begun arriving on the local farms, and Jay was working tons washing winter-crusted cars and preparing for the Entwinin’ festival.
But we’d find time. Starting right now.
Jay’s truck was in the drive which meant he was around here somewhere. Since Kasey Musgraves was crooning in the garage, I decided to check his workroom first.
No luck.
“Jay?” I called.
“Back here!” His voice came from the storage closet in the back where he’d meticulously organized shelves with open bins on them, holding all kinds of various sizes and lengths of wisteria vines.
I found him in the closet with his shirt off, and my brain immediately turned to squishy, half-baked dough. “ Ngh .”
He turned and grinned, one slightly crooked tooth pressing his lip out in a sexy way that drew my attention and made me want him even more. “Hey, sexy,” he said.
“Diggin’ the no-shirt look,” I managed to grunt.
His eyes heated. “Diggin’ that look in your eyes.”
I moved closer until my body pressed his against the shelves. Thank God they were sturdy. My hands immediately went to his rounded pecs and squeezed. “Let me suck you off.”
“ Let you?” he asked with a teasing glint in his eye. “That’s an interesting choice of words, Dr. Desmond. Why should I let you have your wicked way with my person?”
I moved my hands down to unfasten his jeans. There was no way on earth his answer would be no, and we both knew it.
“Let’s see,” I began as I shoved his jeans and underwear down. “I’m very dedicated. Talented, some might say. I’m also eager to please.”
I moved in and began pressing kisses down his chest, tasting a combination of salt and sawdust that was uniquely Jay.
“I’m well-versed in anatomy,” I continued, dragging my tongue down his Adonis belt and into the thatch of hair above the root of his hard cock. “I’m… I’m…” His heavy balls and warm cock drew my attention, and I leaned in to rub my face against them.
“Distractable?” he teased, tangling his fingers in my hair.
I licked and sucked, enjoying his hitched breaths and deep rumbles of satisfaction and appreciation.
“You sure are eager to make an impression,” he gasped when I took his cock as deep into my throat as I could and subsequently gagged on it.
“Fuck my mouth,” I muttered, reaching around to grab his ass.
“Jesus fuck, Lane.” He thrust into my throat and tightened his grip on my hair. “Not gonna last. So fucking good.”
My own cock ached, so I reached down to open my pants and stroke it. Sucking Jay off turned me on. Imagining what we looked like in the dimly lit closet with me on my knees and him thrusting hard into my throat made my orgasm come barreling on.
I choked on his cock, stroking us both quickly and irregularly. Jay’s hand cupped the back of my head as he guided me. “That’s it, baby. You’re doing so good. Gonna make me come.”
My release hit seconds before his did. His hot spunk landed on my face as I pulled back with a gasp and sucked in a breath. The sounds of our groaning, the scent of his cum, and the possessive feel of his hands on me were all fucking amazing.
“Lane, what the fuck?” he murmured as he tried catching his breath. “Get up here. C’mere.”
I stood awkwardly and tried tucking myself back in, but Jay shoved my hands away and cupped my face instead to meet my eyes. “That was fucking amazing. Thank you.”
I preened at the praise, feeling my chest puff out a little. I’d wanted to please him, wanted to impress him with my skills and my strong attraction to him.
Most of all, I wanted to make him happy.
I leaned in and kissed him long and hard before pulling back. “I’m in the mood for spaghetti. What do you think?”
Jay’s face widened into a grin. “Do you one better. I made Italian Gentleman. It’s in the oven already.”
My chest filled with fluttery strangeness. If this man wasn’t careful, I was going to want to tie myself to him with something way stronger than wisteria vines.