Chapter 02 CASEY
I sag against my front door as soon as it’s closed behind me. I only have twenty minutes before I need to meet that photographer down in the pumpkin field, but I need to pull myself together before I take another step.
My sexuality didn’t really play a role in my decision to trade New York for Virginia. The need to get out of the rat race, the traffic, and the city is what drove me down here with a desire to replace my suits with boots.
I don’t regret it. In fact, I love it, but it only took the month I’ve been here to realize finding love again might be a bigger challenge than I’d originally thought.
In New York, there are a plethora of options for gay bars and pride events, and you meet a queer person daily, whether it’s your barista or your boss.
Here? Not so much.
And that’s a damn shame because Mason is proof that manual labor on a farm does a body good, and fuck was his body good. The sleeves of his button-down were just tight enough to reveal the bulk of his biceps, and when he leaned forward, practically falling into the engine of the tractor, his ass was in my face…perfect, round, and tight.
My cock twitches in my jeans, and I’m abruptly reminded I need to change mental courses before I show up to this photoshoot with a hard-on and allow everyone to get the wrong idea.
I really don’t have the time to spare, but I jump in the shower, washing off the dirt and grime I’d accumulated from working. I’d been coming back from the far field after checking on the hay bales when my tractor gave out.
With my hair still wet, I slip into a fresh white T-shirt, my thin silver chain now visible against my skin in the V-neck. I throw on a pair of dark, stone-washed jeans, my Aether boots, and shrug into a green and brown flannel before grabbing my favorite hat.
With three minutes to go, I give myself one last look in the mirror and run my fingers through my hair, not wanting to look quite so polished. I’m digging the stubble on my face, so I leave it. The world of finance is so clean-cut that my style always reflected that, and I never allowed myself to grow any kind of facial hair—until now. It definitely makes me look every bit of my thirty-three years, but I’m okay with that.
It’s just about the golden hour, the requested time of the shoot, as I close my front door and hop onto my four-wheeler, taking off for the pumpkin field. In October, the sun sets earlier in the day, so it feels much later than it actually is.
The drive is short, but I get to pass through the Christmas trees on my way. The pine boughs whip me as I ride, coating me in their fragrance.
Owning this farm is a dream come true. It’s separated into four main areas, each one curating something different for each season. Spring’s quadrant boasts beautiful gardens, a hedge maze, and fountains. Summer’s corner is full of raised beds and trellises for all the climbing vegetables. There are also several tables lined up under an awning, and I can’t wait to host my first farmer’s market next year. I’m currently driving through Winter’s section. The choose-and-cut hillside of fresh pines is one of my favorite places. I’m having work done on the barn in this section to turn it into a hot chocolate shack and Christmas wonderland. Despite needing a change from my previous life, I’ll miss Christmas in New York and want to cultivate a piece of that magic here.
Finally, I arrive in Autumn’s domain. Each quadrant is roughly twenty acres, and this one is rolling hills of bright orange pumpkins as far as the eye can see. Since it’s early October, this section is in full swing with school field-trippers, families creating memories, and little ones choosing pumpkins as big as themselves.
I smile as I survey what I’ve created so far.
I had the idea for the Four Seasons Farm before I purchased this place. Piggybacking off the name of a bougie brand and giving it my flair made me quite happy. After closing on the farm, I hired an incredible team of landscapers and agriculturalists who got the Christmas trees in the ground as well as the pumpkin seeds. I knew I’d need them done first. Seeing the fruits of their labor and my planning is overwhelming in the best kind of way.
As I pull up to the barn in this section, I spot Sadie easily because she’s clicking away at a small display of pumpkins she’s set up. The way she keeps pulling her eye away from the camera to look at the display screen makes me think she’s checking the lighting.
I cut my engine and hop off, making my way to her. She’s so in the zone, she doesn’t even hear me approach.
“You must be Sadie,“
I say, causing her to jump.
“Oh!“
she gasps, placing her free hand over her heart. “Hi.”
“My apologies. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
She smiles widely. “It’s all right. These shoots sometimes make my nerves jump, too, even though I know all the details.”
I smile, looking around for the other person. I know he’s got to be here somewhere. “So, you, uh, were able to track down another participant?” I ask.
“You would probably be shocked by the number of applicants I had in this town,” she says.
“Is that so?”
“Mhm,“
she hums. “I had a hard time narrowing it down, but as soon as I saw his application, I knew who I was choosing. I’m hoping this shoot will open doors for more than just one connection, though, because it seems like there’s quite the community here that could really flourish if someone takes the first step.”
I think about her words, my traitorous mind going straight to Mason.
Is he one of them? I think to myself.
“Thank you for allowing me to shoot on your property. It’s absolutely stunning out here, especially this time of day,“
Sadie continues.
“It’s my pleasure. Thank you for choosing me to be a part of it,“
I answer sincerely.
When Sadie had called asking permission to use Four Seasons Farm as her location, she described the project with full transparency about its intended purpose. Of course, as a gay man, I loved the idea of bringing queer strangers together to capture connection, friendship, and unexpected intimacy.
But it wasn’t until we got off the phone that I found the application online and filled it out for myself. I’d been in a relationship back in New York with a man I loved and trusted, but he never shared my desire to relocate. Burnout wasn’t a concept he understood, but he respected that I did. I’d been sad about our breakup, of course, but not devastated. We wished each other the best and amicably went our separate ways eighteen months ago.
The timing, as well as the nature of this photoshoot, seemed like a great way to put myself out there again while also potentially meeting someone in the LGBTQ+ community in a place where not many rainbow flags fly.
“I won’t bore you with the details of my process, but just know it involves a bottle of wine and lengthy conversations with my fiancée. Her matchmaking sense is almost as strong as mine, and we were in agreement that your profile and his are sure to create sparks my camera wants to catch.”
Sadie’s joy and positivity are radiant, and they instantly make me glad I’m doing this.
“Well, let’s hope you’re right,“
I tease gently. “Where do you want me?”
Sadie motions me forward toward the barn. Each section of the farm has one that contains the specific equipment needed for that particular quadrant’s needs.
When we get to the corner, she positions me with my back against the barn, about two feet from the edge.
“Perfect. Just look straight out from the corner. When I come back into view, just keep your eyes on me!“
she says cheerfully as she moves to the western side of the wooden structure. As soon as I hear her talking, I know my shoot-mate is close and sweat beads on the nape of my neck. “Okay, yep. Just like that. Now, I want you both to reach for each other’s hands,“
Sadie instructs as she brings her camera to her eye and starts walking backwards.
He and I are at a ninety-degree angle from one another. My left arm is extended, and my gaze is to the left, which means his right hand is extended and his neck is turned toward the right.
As soon as his fingers connect with mine, it feels like I’ve been hit with a live wire. It’s the same feeling that hit me when we shook hands earlier, only this time it’s me who shudders.
My eyes dart to the hand now holding mine. Tanned skin, short, non-bitten nails with grease along his cuticles, veins popping. I’m positive I saw this hand earlier today as it worked its way around my tractor engine.
“Mason?“
I whisper, careful to keep my lips still so I don’t ruin Sadie’s pictures.
“Casey?“
he returns, his shock just as evident as mine.
“Mhm. Let’s not tell her just yet,“
I suggest, knowing he knows I mean Sadie. Technically, Mason and I are still strangers, and technically, Sadie’s still right in assuming we’d be a great match, since her choosing us for this shoot is how we crossed paths forty-five minutes ago anyway.
“Okay,“
he agrees.
My smile widens, and I squeeze his hand, wanting to do a whole helluva lot more now that I know it’s him behind this wall.
“Guys, this is great! The sun is really hitting! Is everyone comfortable so far?“
Sadie asks, checking in.
“Couldn’t be better, ma’am,“
Mason calls, melting me with his southern twang.
“Okay, now I want a silhouette shot, so I want each of you to take a step forward, then lean back with your boot kicked against the side of the barn. Use your foot closest to the corner. Oh, and keep a hold of each other’s hands.”
“I don’t think you have to worry about us letting go anytime soon,“
I tell Sadie with a smile.
“Just wait,“
she taunts. “It’s about to get a lot better. I know it isn’t possible that you two coordinated for this shoot, but it feels like you did, and that’s how I know I nailed this,“
she giggles.
She takes her pictures and then moves back to Mason’s side of the barn. “Do you mind taking this off?”
I assume she’s talking about his ball cap, and my mouth waters, wanting to see him without it. Except this time, when Sadie moves away from the barn with her camera held high, Mason’s gray button-down is slung over her shoulder.
So, what the fuck is he wearing?
Oh, God. If he’s shirtless, I’m going to lose my fucking mind.
My breathing grows heavy, and I don’t even realize my thumb is moving up and down his index finger until he mutters, “This might be TMI, but it’s been a while for me, and that’s turning me the hell on.”
“Now you know how I felt watching you lean over the engine of my tractor,” I reply.
“Okay, you two!“
Sadie calls with a laugh, drawing my attention back to her. “Are you creeping closer to that corner on purpose?”
Looking down, I notice my arm is almost down by my side, with my fingers interlocked with Mason’s at the same angle. We’re both now no more than six inches from the corner of the barn, and my skin is buzzing with anticipation to lay eyes on him again.
Before Mason or I respond, Sadie chimes in again, walking toward us.
“Now, I want you to step away from the barn, facing away from each other, so you’re back-to-back, but don’t peek yet.“
Mason and I do as she asks. “I’m so good, it’s scary,“
she says, clearly pleased with herself.
“What makes you so sure?“
I ask, my voice light and playful.
Sadie winks at me. “Not only can I see the grins you two are wearing, but as soon as you were connected like this, you instinctively grabbed each other’s other hand.
Well, I’ll be damned. I hadn’t even noticed. It just seemed like the most natural thing in the world. And it wasn’t just me. As soon as I’d reached behind me, Mason’s hand was there, his palm sliding against mine as his fingers wedged between my own.
Because I still have my T-shirt and my flannel on, I can’t feel his skin, and it’s literally killing me.
Sadie takes her time walking in slow circles around us. She squats down, then holds the camera up high, adjusts some things, and starts snapping again.
She’s far enough away that she can’t hear our whispered conversation, and we use the minute she changes out her lens to our advantage.
“So,“
Mason starts. “Are you into guys, or did you get roped into this somehow?”
“I’m into guys,“
I confirm. “You?”
“Both.“
He laughs, and the sound washes over me like a late summer rain. “I have a persistent cousin who, I’m pretty sure, wants me to find someone as much as I do.”
“I hope I get the chance to meet her. I’d like to tell her thank you for making you do this today.“
As soon as it leaves my mouth, I know how it sounded, and I quickly try to correct. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to assume you—”
“Hey, Casey?“
he interrupts. “Never apologize for speaking your mind. I don’t like to have to guess what someone’s thinking. I’d love to introduce you to her,” he says.
I swallow hard as Sadie’s voice reaches us, “Oh, these are so good. I want to capture that first meeting right as the sun’s rays land on the barn. So, are you guys good to stay like that another minute or two?”
“Anything you need,“
Mason answers easily.
He said he wants to know what’s on my mind, so I blurt out what I’ve been wondering for the last ten minutes. “What are you wearing? I saw her take your shirt. I probably need to be prepared if I turn around and you’re in nothing but skin.”
He chuckles, and I feel it in my balls. “I had a black tank top on under that button-down, so that’s what you’ll see. You?”
“A white T-shirt and a flannel overtop.”
“Hmph,” he huffs.
“Something wrong?“
I ask, suddenly wary.
“She was right when she said she’s good at this. Flannel is my weakness.”
“You know what I’m thinking right now?“
I ask, hoping he feels the same.
“I’d hate to get myself in trouble, so why don’t you just tell me?“
he says. It’s hard to hear the smile under all the lust in his voice, but it’s there.
“That I’d really like to kiss you. Is that crazy?”
“I don’t think so. That’s sort of the point of this whole thing, right?”
“Right,“
I breathe.
We stand there another sixty seconds in silence, having an entire conversation as our chests expand and relax against each other. I toss my hat in the dirt so it’s not in the way when I reach for him, knowing I’m going to do so as soon as I turn around.
Finally, Sadie says, “Okay, turn around. And remember, just have fun with it. It doesn’t have to be roman—okay…or that.”
I don’t hear anything else because as we turn, Mason already has one hand around my waist as I move in to cup his face.
The sight of him hits me like a ton of bricks, and he knocks the breath out of my lungs. Our height is similar, but where his muscles are built by skills, farm work, and the daily grind, mine were built in a gym. His eyes flash a fierce blue to my chocolate brown. And his ribbed tank top probably came in a pack of six, whereas my T-shirt alone cost forty-eight dollars.
But the second he touches me, none of that fucking matters.
I groan against him, pulling him closer, my hand moving to his ass. I forget that we only met a very short while ago; I forget that someone is capturing this entire exchange with a camera; hell, I even forget my own name. All I see is the man in front of me.
Thankfully, the pumpkin pickers and families here for a night of fun are in the section of the patch much closer to the visitor’s entrance, and my employees are running things smoothly, because even if they weren’t, I couldn’t tear myself out of his arms.
We wasted no time with closed-lipped kisses. We dove straight at each other with lips parted and tongues ready to tangle, and as his tongue sweeps across my own once more, I groan into his mouth.
I move my grip from his cheek to the back of his head, holding him in place with my hand and a prayer.
When we finally stop kissing, our foreheads remain connected. We’re soaking in a moment that was far too intimate to be shared between strangers, and yet here we are. Mason pulls me into a hug, his words muffled as he speaks into my neck.
“I didn’t know how lonely I was until I met you this afternoon,“
he confesses.
“I feel that more than you know,“
I tell him.
Perhaps I wasn’t lonely in the same way as him, seeing as I just got out of a long-term relationship not that long ago, but in the way that loneliness creeps in when your closest friends are also your biggest rivals, the internet becomes your biggest source of interaction, and you’ve completely forgotten how to truly invest in anything other than your paycheck.
Mason is solid. He’s capable. He’s compassionate. He’s honest. He’s real. He’s everything I didn’t know I was looking for.