Chapter 14
fourteen
So obviously, Luca was an idiot.
He didn’t know if it would have been better if he’d had it planned out beforehand.
If it had been a purposeful thing. If it hadn’t been some reckless part of himself that suddenly sprang to life like a venomous snake the moment Emerson had started apologizing about the kiss. Coiled and ready to strike.
Luca was tired of men apologizing to him over experiences they had both clearly enjoyed. He was tired of men saying, you’re beautiful, but I’m in love with someone else.
He was tired of tip-toeing around Emerson King. Of tip-toeing around his whole fucking life.
At least sitting in that living room, watching the game he’d wanted to watch, was purposeful.
Giving Emerson the space and time he’d requested yesterday in the rain had been relatively easy.
After Luca had returned to the house, showered and dried off, he’d fucked around town until his overnight renters had left his cabin.
His actual home. Where he’d, again, had more cleaning to do than expected.
It had taken him most of the day to get it ready for the new folks who would check in this week.
After he’d finished, he’d taken some time to sit on his deck and watch the ocean. The rain had cleared out by then, the sky endless, the world wide open and fresh like it always felt after a rain like that.
He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed it. The sound of the ocean. Living right on top of it.
A bunch of words had started wiggling around in his brain as he sat there listening to the surf. And so, despite himself, he’d eventually come back to his laptop, on the bottom floor of the farmhouse, and gotten them all out. Despite himself, it had felt good.
But when he and Jansel had seen Emerson’s obvious bullshit note on the whiteboard this morning about feeling under the weather, Luca had started to get angry.
No, angry probably wasn’t the right word. Irritated, maybe. Like his skin, flaring red every time he pricked a finger on the berry vines or banged an elbow trying to arrange pallets in cold storage.
When Emerson had sat next to him on the couch, Luca had felt it immediately.
The tension between them, the way the air seemed to thicken, like Luca could feel the heat of Emerson’s body even when they weren’t touching.
And he knew, based on the way Emerson had kissed him yesterday, that Emerson felt it, too. Undeniable.
His rational brain knew Emerson was right, though, when he’d started the apology. Like he’d also been right to break off the kiss the day before. Emerson King was his boss. Emerson King was most likely still in love with his ex-husband.
But the viper in Luca’s throat just wanted to be fucking honest.
And so. Even though he’d come to Short King Farms for a new start, here he found himself. In practically the same fucking situation he’d been in with Dell McCleary. Making his body available for pleasure. Taking his own pleasure when he wanted it.
While someone else got all the rest.
Still a ghost, really. Just one who got to fuck more.
At least when he and Dell had started their arrangement, things had been clear.
They’d liked fucking each other so they’d agreed to do it again.
There had never been anything deeper to it than that, other than the inevitable soft places intimacy made bare, until time and familiarity made Luca start to wonder what if.
But when they’d started, anyway, it had been clear.
The only thing Luca had really, truly known about Dell was what got him off.
He hadn’t heard Dell sing Elton John songs to his daughter in the middle of the night.
He hadn’t seen Dell cradle a basket of eggs or prepare a million bouquets of wildflowers like every inch of his world was precious.
He had never eaten Dell’s homemade meals.
He knew what kind of beer Dell liked, but he didn’t know how Dell preferred to spend his Sunday mornings, or the slant of his handwriting.
Fuck.
Any time Luca thought about how Emerson had laughed, though, after he came.
It made something glow inside his chest, made him feel inexplicably lighter. Happier. Like he’d done something important. He’d made Emerson King laugh.
The entire next day, working in the fields, Luca couldn’t stop thinking about doing it again.
When he and Jansel entered the kitchen at the end of their workday, Emerson stood at the sink, washing dishes. His and Luca’s eyes met, one quick flash of connection, before Emerson returned his gaze to the water.
“Shit’s looking good,” Jansel assessed, marking a few things off on the whiteboard. “Your best harvest yet, I think.”
“Our best harvest,” Emerson corrected.
“Yeah, sure. How’s the wildflower field looking?”
Emerson sighed. When Luca had last seen him, briefly this morning, he’d been on his way out in the truck to pick up, in his words, “a shit ton of woodchips” to work on the walkways up there.
“Okay, so far. My back’s killing me, though. Been a while since I’ve done this kind of work. Or this level of it, anyway.”
Luca could only imagine what this kind of work actually entailed, being that Emerson kept refusing help with it. Luca imagined it involved constant shoveling, though, of Emerson bending and lifting all day long.
“You know we could—”
Emerson waved off Jansel’s sentence. “Nah, it’s good. I’ll let you know when I need help.”
Jansel snorted. It was, clearly, a bullshit, but okay snort. Emerson ignored it.
“All righty, then.” Jansel tipped the lid of his baseball cap before tucking it back again, his signature goodbye move. “See you two tomorrow.”
The moment the door clicked shut, Luca strolled toward the sink.
“I made a big salad,” Emerson said as he approached. “There’s leftovers in the fridge. Some grilled chicken to go with it, if you’d like.”
Luca leaned his back against the counter.
He’d eaten better, this last week or so, than he had in years.
Nutrition on a fishing boat was pretty shitty, and even when he was back on land, he didn’t cook much.
The only times he’d truly eaten well as an adult were family dinners back at his parents’ house.
Until he moved onto Short King Farms and started getting fed by Emerson King.
It was almost disturbing, how quickly he’d been able to feel it.
The physical labor, the healthy, fresh food.
Luca’s body felt better than it’d maybe ever felt, his energy high, his brain lucid, even with the aches, even with all the regular shit that was always part of his brain. Luca felt good. And he was hungry.
But now that he and Emerson were alone again—
“Mm,” he said. “Maybe later.”
Because here it was again. What Luca had been anticipating all day. This tension. Static electricity racing across his skin.
Emerson had finished the dishes. He stood still at the sink, hands propped on the counter. And when Luca crawled his fingers toward his, brushed his fingertips across Emerson’s knuckles—
The spark ignited again.
Luca might have been an idiot, but Emerson wasn’t ignoring him today. Wasn’t hiding.
“About that sore back,” Luca said.
Emerson lifted his gaze from their hands to Luca’s face.
“I can try to help you with that.”
Emerson swallowed. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Luca pushed off the counter, moved to stand behind him.
Pushed his thumbs into Emerson’s lower back through his t-shirt.
Emerson smelled fresh, clean, the tips of his hair still wet from what must have been a recent shower.
“We should make the massage proper, though. With you lying down. And maybe losing this shirt.”
Luca might have been an idiot, but there was something about how little resistance Emerson had really given to his plan.
Something about the way Emerson looked at him.
It made Luca feel bolder, a little sluttier.
Like there was an extra shot of adrenaline coursing through his bloodstream. It felt…fun.
Like it had felt fun that first night Emerson had shown him the farm.
“Yeah,” Emerson said now, the smallest shake in his voice. “Okay. Um. First, though. I thought of some boundaries.”
Luca’s thumbs paused.
“Yeah?”
“We can do whatever, just…not when Daisy’s in the house.”
Luca stared at the back of Emerson’s neck.
This was an okay request. Right? Luca had told Emerson he could make whatever rules he wanted. This was an acceptable rule. Logical, even. Sensible. Why it made Luca feel the tiniest bit hurt, well, he didn’t fucking know.
“Okay,” he said, keeping his voice light. “But…you do know you can be a dad and still have a sex life, right?”
Because they could be quiet. Sometimes it made it more hot, having to be quiet. Surely Emerson and his ex had gotten it on sometimes with Daisy in the other room?
“Yeah. Yeah.” Luca couldn’t see Emerson’s face; it was still too bright out for the window in front of them to offer a decent reflection.
But Luca saw the slight shake of his head, could picture his pained look.
“It’s just…I don’t know. Daisy still feels so connected to my life with Jay, our family, that if we did this while she was in the house, it would feel like…
cheating on him. Even if I know that doesn’t make sense.
I’m sorry.” He sighed. Hung his head. “Maybe I’m making this weird. ”
“No.” Luca kissed the back of Emerson’s neck. It was too intimate, he knew, too cute, but he couldn’t help himself.
It was…fine, maybe. This confirmation that Emerson was still in love with his ex.
Luca had already known this when he’d offered this arrangement last night, right?
The look of horror in Emerson’s eyes when he’d stopped their first kiss in the rain, when he’d said you’re the first person I’ve kissed since my ex, had been pretty easy to read.
“That’s fine, Emerson,” he said. “Anything you need.”