Provoking the Punter

Chapter 22

CHAPTER

TWENTY-TWO

Garrett untangled himself from Chester and turned off his alarm. All he wanted to do was roll over and go back to sleep. But it was Monday, and he couldn’t.

Chester opened one eye and mumbled, “Tell me you set that an hour too early.”

“I wish. I’m assuming you need coffee to get going in the morning.”

Chester made a noise that was probably agreement, but it could’ve also been a warning that he was about to kill him.

Garrett kissed his cheek and slid out of bed. If he lingered, he might fall back asleep and then he’d get his ass kicked, which isn’t what he wanted from the coaches today. “I’ll find the kitchen and put the coffee on.”

He hadn’t expected Chester to be a morning person, given that he worked late most nights. Garrett picked his boxer briefs up off the floor and pulled them on before padding downstairs.

“I’m getting up,” Chester grumbled as Garrett left, in the least convincing manner possible.

In the soft morning light, he walked through the house. He’d ignored most of it last night, too intent on getting his hands on Chester. This morning, he paid attention. The furniture was simple and stylish as though the various bits had been bought because he liked them, not because they all went together, but they had been positioned in such a way that it wasn’t jarring to see what appeared to be a vintage lamp next to a modern minimalist chair.

The art on the wall was no different. It was a collection of what seemed to be vintage photos in random frames, but there was a theme. They were all to do with distilling or gin. The equipment or the bottles, and a half-naked woman stirring something in a bathtub. The photo of a man with a long beard next to a still made him pause. There was something in the man's gaze. Or maybe it was because his clothes were too modern.

“I don’t smell coffee,” Chester muttered. His hair was askew with half of it standing up on end and the other half plastered down. He still looked half asleep. That he was wearing pajama pants aided with the look.

“I got sidetracked by your art. Is that your father?” Garrett pointed at the photo.

Chester gave a nod. “You’re the only one who’s noticed that.”

“Is that because I’m the only one who knows what he does?”

A smile flickered on Chester’s lips. “Maybe.”

Chester walked into the kitchen and turned on the coffee machine, pulling two mugs out of the cupboard.

Garrett followed him. “I don’t drink coffee in the mornings.”

“Are you an alien?” Chester glared at him.

“I’m about to do a two-hour weight session. I need food and water. I’ll have coffee before I sit down for the game review.”

Chester filled the mug up with water and handed it to him. “You don’t play football all day?”

“No. Weights, conditioning, meetings, whole team meetings, special teams meetings, game review, watching video of our next opposition. I do get out on the field every day, just kick some balls, keep myself limber.”

Chester opened the fridge and stared at the contents. “Usually, I just have a piece of toast, but there is stuff in here.” He shut the fridge door. “I can’t assemble food at this time of the morning.”

“Why don’t you sit at the breakfast bar, and I’ll assemble the food? Can you eat this early in the morning?”

“I can always eat if somebody’s doing the cooking.”

Garrett inspected the contents of the fridge and the cupboard and started pulling things out, while Chester finished putting together his coffee and then sat on the other side of the kitchen island.

“So how does the son of a moonshiner end up running a business empire?”

Chester took a sip of coffee. “That is a very big question.”

“I’m making a very big breakfast.” Garrett wanted to learn anything and everything about his boyfriend. He’d talked plenty about his upbringing and his family, but he didn’t know much about Chester’s, aside from the fact that his mother had taken off when he was about five. Which he felt was a hell of a lot harder than losing his mother at sixteen.

“I was about ten when my best friend at school volunteered me to show his dad how to do math and how to use a spreadsheet because I was good at that kind of stuff. He was the local mechanic, good with cars, not so good with numbers, and Mark had heard him complaining. I went over to his shop after school one day instead of hanging out with Mark and playing computer games and helped him set up a program on his computer.”

Garrett chopped the ham he’d found in the fridge. He had missed cooking so much. “That does not lead to here.”

“I told you it was a long story. It became a once a week thing, and then he started paying me. I couldn’t take the money home because Dad would’ve used it, and I didn’t have a bank account. I didn’t even know what a bank account was because my father didn’t trust the banks. Mark’s dad had to explain banking to me and then he helped me request copies of the documents I needed to open a bank account. I got to see how his business ran, which was so different to my Dad’s, and I also saw how to save it. Mark and I fell out because I was spending more time with his dad working on the business. I used his computer in my downtime to learn more, and I borrowed books from the library. My bank account grew, and I learned about college and scholarships. I saw a way out.”

Garrett broke and whisked the eggs, enjoying the simple motions. “Did you want out before then?”

“Yes, but not in those words. I wanted to find my mother. I wanted more. Dad always said she wanted more like it was a bad thing, but he didn’t tell me what it was she wanted. When I was in high school, Mark thanked me for saving his dad’s business. He hadn’t realized how bad the situation was. We made it through high school, pushing each other to do better because we both needed a scholarship to go to college. We vowed it was college or the military because neither of us were staying.”

“You never considered a sports scholarship?”

Chester laughed, but it was dark. “The town I grew up in wasn’t a feeder school. There wasn’t any money to put into sports. Kids with talent moved away, if they were lucky, otherwise they quit.”

“That’s shit.”

Chester shrugged. “That’s how it was.”

“I’m guessing you got the scholarship because I can’t imagine you in uniform.”

“Yeah, I got a scholarship to the community college, then from there I bounced to a state college.”

“And Mark?”

Chester stared at his coffee. “He joined the military.” And from the look on Chester’s face, it hadn’t ended well.

Garrett chopped the broccoli and waited for Chester to continue.

Chester stared at him. “Why am I eating broccoli for breakfast?”

“Because you didn’t have spinach. It will be great. Trust me. Now finish the story.”

“Mark was killed two years later. When I go home… which I haven’t in a long time, I visit his grave, and have dinner with his parents. I tell my father I’m in town, but he grumbles and makes excuses.”

“I’m sorry about Mark.”

“I used to tell myself it wouldn’t have happened if I’d been with him, but thinking that doesn’t change anything.” Chester tilted his head, his eyes narrowing, and Garrett could see the coffee kicking in. “How many eggs are in that bowl?”

“Eight. The only cheese you have is brie, so I guess we’re going fancy.”

“Fancy? This is not breakfast. This is lunch for four.”

“Then I’m three people. Training burns calories. You want to see the diet plan?”

“You weren’t joking about them counting fat cells.”

“I was about that, but they definitely want to know what we’re eating. So you finished college…?”

“I had a friend who was from Austin, and he invited me to move in with him. I worked as a manager for a nightclub while I worked on my business plan. I knew what I wanted to do, and I had an idea on how to get there, but I was missing bits of the puzzle. Working at the nightclub helped fill in those bits.”

“So Bathtubs was the endgame?” He chucked the ham into the skillet to crisp up a bit. It wasn’t bacon, but it would do.

“Yes. I wanted to control my own life. Run my own business. My father could’ve done so much more, but he was scared of it being taken away, of paying taxes and so many other things. But he taught me how to distill, how to upsell and liaise with customers and haggle for a deal on supplies. I loved all of that. Summer vacations when I was off from school were the best.” A soft smile formed on his lips. “I write to him from time to time. He doesn’t have a computer or internet, so I can’t email. Sometimes, I call Mark’s dad. I thought keeping in contact would be worse for him, but he said he enjoys hearing from me as it lets him imagine what Mark would be doing if he was alive.” Chester drew in a breath. “There you go. Now you know everything.”

“No, I don’t. I don’t know when you had your first kiss, or your first boyfriend, or…” Garrett gave the ham a stir and added the broccoli. “I’m sure there’s a hundred other things.”

“You don’t need all of that right now. You don’t have to rush.”

Garrett glanced away, heat flooding his cheeks.

“But I like the way you jump in and throw everything you have at something. At me.”

“There’s no point in half-assing something. You’re just wasting everyone’s time.” He poured the eggs in on top of the broccoli and ham and then sprinkled the diced cheese on top. “How do I turn the grill on?”

Garrett studied the dials on the oven.

“Grill?” Chester got up and walked around the counter. “The broiler?”

“Yeah.” There were some words Americans used he’d never quite grasp.

Chester turned on the grill, and Garrett held out his arm. Chester took the offer and stepped in, wrapping his arm around Garrett’s waist. Garrett pressed a kiss to his temple. “It sounds as though you had an interesting and unusual childhood.”

“It was. There were things I hated, like not having money and new clothes, but it wasn’t the people I was surrounded by.” He rested his head on Garrett’s shoulder.

“This is nice.” Garrett murmured. He wanted to start every day like this. With Chester.

“It would be nicer about an hour later.”

“Not going to happen during the season. If you’re working until close, I’ll be asleep before you get back… if… um…” Shit. He wanted to grab the words and shove them back into his mouth. He’d let himself be caught in the fantasy of living together after one night and a morning after.

“If we’re living together.” Chester finished. “Our schedules aren’t very aligned.”

Had Chester also been wondering how this might work? “If I’m staying with the team, I'll find somewhere to rent. I can’t stay at the hotel forever.”

And now that he’d stepped into a kitchen, he realized how much he missed cooking and meal prep, things that some people hated, but he found calming. It was routine.

“If you’re here, there’s more chance that we will run into each other.”

“Now who’s rushing?” Garrett kept his words light, like they didn’t matter. He hadn’t lived with anyone since college. He’d never lived with a boyfriend.

But he wanted to. If there was a chance, he wanted to take it, even if it meant risking his heart. Life was about taking chances and seeing what happened.

“I haven’t wanted to share my space since Michael left. I liked having it all to myself, but you’re here and I don’t seem to mind.”

“Only because I’m making you breakfast.”

Chester glanced up at him. “Honey, I have never stopped a man from cooking for me.”

“It would be nice to have someone to cook for.” He leaned in and claimed Chester’s lips, sliding a hand over his ass. He wanted this to be every morning. To stir when Chester got home late and slid into bed, and to wake up next to him.

In the off season, they’d have more time.

They could make it work.