Chapter 13 Taron
Taron
The truck rumbles along the narrow forest track, tires crunching over pine needles and the occasional pothole.
Up front it’s me, Robbie, and Kaleb—me in the middle, Robbie riding shotgun, Kaleb behind the wheel with one big hand loose on the steering wheel and the other resting easy on my thigh. Racer’s in the back bed, head out the window, tongue flapping like a pink flag.
Name a more iconic truck crew? Not possible!
Anyway…
The morning air coming through the cracked windows is just perfect. I’m feeling fresh and ready for some serious fun times with my bestie from the city. And I know Robbie is ready and waiting for some good old country fun too.
Robbie’s been talking nonstop since we picked him up at the bus station—hair in a messy topknot, oversized hoodie, the same infectious energy he’s always had.
He’s got his feet up on the dash… Kaleb pretended not to notice…
as he recounts every ridiculous story from the Littletown Play & Drink like I’ve been gone for years instead of weeks.
“…and then Mrs. Delgado comes in at seven-thirty sharp, same as always, orders her usual oat-milk latte with an extra shot, except this time she’s got this tiny dog in her purse—totally tiny—and it starts barking at the espresso machine like it’s personally offended.
Full-on yapping. Customers are laughing, I’m trying not to lose it, and she just goes, ‘He’s protecting me from the noise,’ like that explains everything. ”
I’m giggling so hard my sides hurt.
“I guess it’s good that even a Little café has such a good reputation that even non Littles feel like they want to come in!” I giggle.
“Agreed. But every day?” Robbie roars. “And get this… Mr. Patel started bringing his parrot in on Tuesdays. Named it Espresso. It says ‘double shot’ every time someone orders one. Chaos. Absolute chaos. But it’s so cool that we’ve been welcomed into the area like this.
No one judges us, they see we’re just like them. Well, in many ways at least.”
“Yup,” I reply. “City life is cool like that. But everyone is awesome here too.”
Kaleb’s mouth twitches. He doesn’t say much, but I can tell he’s listening.
Enjoying it. Probably trying to figure out whether I’m thinking about heading back to the city sometime soon.
I know we should talk about it. And we will.
But I’m just having such a great time with him that I never want to spoil the moment by opening up what could be a real can of worms.
Robbie turns to me, eyes sparkling. “Everyone misses you, by the way. Like, a lot. They keep asking when you’re coming back. Cade and his Daddy said the place isn’t the same without your perky vibes. Even the grumpy morning commuter Daddies are moping.”
I laugh, but there’s a little pang under it. “They’ll have to wait a bit longer. I’m… not sure when I’m coming back.”
Robbie’s smile softens. “Yeah. I can see why.”
I notice Robbie glance at Kaleb—quick, approving—then back at me.
“Speaking of unwelcome visitors…” Robbie’s voice drops. “Pace showed up last week.”
My stomach drops like a stone.
“What?” I groan. “Urgh.”
Kaleb’s hand tightens on my thigh—just a fraction. Protective. Silent.
Robbie keeps going. “The slimeball walked in like he owned the place. Slicked-back hair, stupid expensive coat, asking where you were. Said he had a ‘proposition.’ I told him you were out of town and that was all he was getting. He pushed… tried the whole ‘I’m his agent, I need to reach him’ routine.
I just smiled and said, ‘He blocked you for a reason.’ He left pretty quick after that. ”
I exhale hard. “Thank you. Seriously. I blocked him everywhere. Phone, email, socials. Didn’t want to hear it. And I don’t want to hear it now either.”
“Good call,” Robbie says firmly. “The guy’s a total creep. You’re better off without him.”
Kaleb’s thumb strokes a slow circle on my leg. No words. Just his steady presence. It’s what I need right now. Pace might be in my past, but he’s not been out of my life for long enough that talk of him won’t make me feel weird.
I lean my head on Kaleb’s shoulder for a second. “Yeah. Way better off.”
We ride in comfortable quiet for a while after that. Robbie fiddles with the radio until he finds something upbeat—some indie pop station—and starts humming along. The trees get thicker, the road narrower. Finally Kaleb slows, pulls off onto a barely-there clearing ringed by towering hemlocks.
“Here we are,” Kaleb says, killing the engine. “Deep spot. Good fishing creek about a quarter mile down. Fire ring already set. You two good to set up the tent while I scout with Racer?”
I grin. “We’ve got this.”
Robbie hops out, already stretching. “Little power! Let’s do it.”
Kaleb grabs his pack, clips Racer’s lead, gives me a quick kiss on the forehead. “Back in a couple hours. Shout if you need me.”
Then he’s gone—big shoulders disappearing into the trees, Racer trotting happily at his side.
Robbie watches him go, then turns to me with wide eyes. “Okay, first of all… he just kissed your forehead like it was the most natural thing in the world. Second… holy crap, Taron. He’s huge. And hot. And sweet. I need to know about all the times he’s had your briefs down and your cock out!”
I laugh, grabbing tent poles from the truck bed. “Later. Bedtime story version. Right now we’ve got work to do. The last thing we need is to get on my Daddy’s bad side!”
He groans dramatically but starts helping.
We giggle the whole time, arguing over which pole goes where, cursing when the rainfly gets twisted, high-fiving when we finally get the stakes in straight.
By the time it’s up—a big four-person dome with mesh top for stargazing—we’re both flushed and laughing.
“Done!” Robbie declares, flopping onto his back in the grass. “We’re camping princes.”
I drop down beside him. “Camping princes who just survived tent assembly without instructions.”
We lie there a minute, staring up through the branches at patches of blue sky, breathing hard.
Then Robbie rolls onto his side, props his head on his hand. “Okay. Seriously. Tonight. All the naughty details. I need to know everything.”
I burst out laughing—loud, giddy, uncontrollable. “Bedtime. I promise. But right now it’s time for adventures.”
He grins. “Forest explorations?”
“Forest explorations,” I trill.
We grab water bottles, a couple granola bars, and head off down the faint trail toward the creek—two city boys turned woodland explorers, laughing the whole way.
Morning light filters through the tent mesh, soft and dappled, waking me before the alarm on my phone even has a chance to buzz.
Robbie’s still snoring softly in his sleeping bag beside me, one arm flung over his eyes, mouth slightly open.
I smile, careful not to wake him as I unzip the tent flap and crawl out into the crisp air.
The forest is quiet except for birdsong and the distant rush of the creek.
Kaleb’s truck is already parked at the edge of the clearing—he must have driven in before dawn.
He’s leaning against the hood, arms crossed, coffee mug in one hand, Racer sitting obediently at his feet.
When he sees me, his face softens in that way it only does for me—stern lines melting into something warm and private.
“Morning, baby boy,” he says low, pushing off the truck to meet me halfway.
I go straight into his arms, pressing my face against his flannel. He smells and feels amazing. In moments like this, I truly can’t believe I’ve only known him for such a short period of time. Everything about Kaleb just screams home.
“Morning, Daddy,” I whisper against his chest.
He kisses the top of my head, lingers there. “Sleep okay?”
“Best sleep ever. You?”
“Missed you,” Kaleb chuckles.
Simple. Honest. And it makes my heart do that silly flip.
Robbie emerges a few moments later, hair a wild halo, rubbing his eyes. “Is that coffee I smell? Real coffee? Not campground instant?”
Kaleb chuckles. “Oh, yeah, it’s real. Got thermoses for the journey out of here. And breakfast in town. Our diner makes the best pancakes you’ll ever eat.”
Robbie’s eyes light up. “Sold! Let’s go.”
We pile into the truck—me in the middle again, Robbie shotgun, Racer in the back.
The drive into town is easy, windows down, radio low, Robbie and I singing along off-key to whatever classic rock Kaleb has on.
He doesn’t complain. My Daddy simply smiles that small, private smile every time our voices crack on the high notes.
The diner’s busy when we pull up… Saturday brunch crowd, locals mostly, a few tourists in hiking gear. Heads turn when we walk in. Not staring, more like friendly nods, waves, quick “Morning, Kaleb”s from half the booths.
Mrs. Peplinska is covering behind the counter, wiping down the coffee machine. She spots Kaleb and grins wide.
“Kaleb! The usual?”
“Times three today,” Kaleb says, jerking his thumb back at us. “And extra bacon for the boys. They earned it after surviving a night in the woods.”
Mrs. Peplinska laughs. “Coming right up. Sit wherever. I’ll have my husband bring it right over.”
“Now that’s class,” Kaleb says. “Not many places you can call on one business owner to cover for you when you have matters to attend. Mr and Mrs. Peplinska keeping it right as always.”
I nod and I can tell that Robbie is impressed too.
We slide into a big corner booth. Robbie’s eyes are wide, taking it all in—the checkered floors, the vintage jukebox, the blackboard menu written in chalk.
But mostly he’s watching the way people greet Kaleb.
The cook leans out from the pass-through to wave.
Mr. Peplinska brings over a fresh pot of coffee himself, sets it down with three mugs and a wink.
“Morning, boys. Kaleb treating you right?”
Robbie grins. “Very right.”
Mr. Peplinska pats Kaleb’s shoulder as he passes. “Good man.”
I feel it swell in my chest—pride, warm and bright. Not just because he’s mine, but because the whole town knows it too. They respect him. Love him even. He’s theirs, and now he’s letting me be part of that.
Robbie leans close once Mr. Peplinska walks away. “Okay. Everyone here adores him. Like, genuinely. That’s rare.”
“I know,” I whisper back. “He’s… he’s the real thing, Robbie.”
He studies my face. “You’re glowing. Like, full-on heart-eyes glowing.”
I bite my lip. I glance toward the counter where Kaleb’s laughing at something the cook said, sleeves rolled up, forearms corded and strong. My heart squeezes so hard it hurts.
“I think…” I drop my voice even lower. “I think he might be the one. Like… Forever. The Forever.”
Robbie’s eyes go huge. Then soft. He almost can’t speak the words, but manages to without totally losing it…
“Oh my god, Taron,” Robbie squeals, doing his best to keep his voice down but failing.
“But…” I swallow. “He’d never leave here. This place, these woods, this life, it’s him. And I… I don’t know if I can ask him to give that up. Or if I can give up everything I’ve built in the city. My writing career, my apartment, my… everything.”
Robbie squeezes my hands tighter. “Sweetie. Look around.”
I do. The diner’s warm, humming with chatter and clinking plates. Kaleb’s still at the counter, carrying three heavy plates stacked with pancakes, bacon, eggs, hash browns. People are smiling at him, thanking him, slapping his back like he’s family.
“Look at him,” Robbie says quietly. “Look at how they love him. Look at how he belongs. And look at you… when you’re with him. You’re not just visiting anymore. You’re home.”
My throat tightens. I know where Robbie is going with this and the truth is that I kinda feel it too, deep down.
“The answer’s obvious,” Robbie whispers. “It’s staring you right in the face. You don’t have to drag him to the city. You can build something here. With him. Your writing doesn’t need skyscrapers. It needs quiet. Space. It needs this big, handsome Daddy with those spank-paddles for hands!”
“Ha!” I laugh.
“I’m being serious though,” Robbie grins. “And honestly? I’ve never seen you this happy. Not even close.”
I glance back at Kaleb. He’s close now, plates balanced like it’s nothing, that small proud smile tugging at his mouth when he sees us watching.
My heart says yes before my brain can catch up.
Yes.
To him. To this. To forever.
Robbie squeals—quiet, excited—and we grab each other’s hands across the table, bouncing a little in the booth like teenagers.
Kaleb sets the plates down, slides in beside me. “What did I miss?”
I turn to him, eyes shining, and press a quick kiss to his cheek.
“Nothing,” I whisper. “Just… happy.”
He looks at me a long moment—searching, soft—then kisses my temple.
“Me too, baby boy.”
Robbie beams across the table. I smile back, shyly but my eyes full of meaning.
Robbie is one hundred percent right, the answer is right here before me. It’s just a question of how I know that this is what Kaleb wants too…