4. Lance
Chapter 4
I’d taken Mom’s suggestion and shut the ice cream shop down for a few days to take inventory, clean, and get ready for a soft re-opening.
The Sweet my heart is here—I’m not leaving again.”
We each finished our beer and polished off the pizza before Casey Joe spoke again. “You seem different.” He eyed me up and down. “All sophisticated and shit. Like, you’re dressed how we’ve always dressed for small-town workin’—boots, jeans, t-shirt, all that shit,” he motioned up and down to my clothes, “but it’s all designer and fancy or somethin’.”
I laughed. “Can’t really get Wranglers at the stores in the city, had to make do with a little bit higher fashion.”
“Well, y’look good.”
“Thanks.”
Casey Joe laughed. “Good to have you home. Thanks for not saying I look good. I know I look like shit. Just can’t seem to care anymore.” He gestured toward the general vicinity of the orchard. “Those boys are the only reason I ever kept going.”
“How are they? The boys.” A dangerous thrill rocketed through me as I thought of the way Hudson and I had reconnected. The images in my head of spending time with him in a way far, far outside of the relationship we used to have.
“As good as can be expected, I guess. Henry stays pretty quiet. Hudson is the social butterfly, but he has his own issues. Not sure either of them will ever find happiness…” he paused and huffed out a breath, “something else she took from us. I can’t say I understand the two of them being queer and shit—” he broke off and held up a hand as if to stop a protest, “it’s okay to use that word to describe them if it’s not in a derogatory way—which it’s not—and they both find it acceptable—which they do. The boys and I have talked about it.” He accepted my nod and went on, “Anyway, can’t say I understand it—Henry saying he likes girls and guys, Hudson liking guys—but I know I want my boys happy and healthy. Not sure they’ll ever get that because she went and fucked them up.” He sighed. “Hell, I probably did my fair share of fuckin’ them up.”
We were halfway through our second beers, Casey Joe’s eyes focused on something far off in the distance.
“But you’d be okay with either of them being with a man? As long as they were happy?” I wondered if one day, down the road, we’d look back at this conversation as the first time I hinted to my best friend that I had a strong attraction—a draw like never before—to his son. Would Casey Joe remember me asking this and punch my lights out when he realized I’d been back in town only a few days when I’d decided to start courting Hudson?
Fuck.
I was playing with fire. I knew it—it wasn’t smart; I should just forget about Hudson and move on—but an invisible string coiled in my gut, pulling me toward Hudson in a way I couldn’t even begin to comprehend, much less explain.
Casey Joe grunted. “Like I said, can’t say I understand it, but we’ve all been so fucked up, I just want them to have a chance at happiness. Chance I didn’t get.” He ran a hand over his face. “Damn, it’s like you came home and all my melancholy shit came pouring out. Haven’t talked so much in damn near eight years. Missed you.”
“Missed you too. Missed this place.”
Casey Joe squinted as he studied me. “It’s not just the clothes and the fancy haircut—the silver is nice though, lot more of it these days—there’s something else different about you.” He cocked his head.
“Still the same ol’ me,” I said. “Just know myself a bit better now.”
“Y’like yourself better the older you get?” he asked.
I nodded, the third beer making things a bit fuzzy. “I do.”
Casey Joe grunted. “Me too. Wish I could go back and tell that kid a few things.” He sighed. “But then I wouldn’t have my boys and they’re the only things that’ve made this life worth livin’.” He popped open another beer and stood, walking to the edge of the porch. “Hell, I don’t know. I wouldn’t go back to all that shit, before or after Missy left, but I’m not sure I like this gettin’ old shit either.”
“Sometimes feels like the years are flying by,” I mused. “Your boys can be happy.” Slapping him on the back, I took another swig of beer. “You can too.” Suddenly, Casey Joe’s happiness was something I wanted to see. Needed to know he was okay.
I wasn’t self-absorbed enough to think my presence back in town would be enough to make things better for my friend, but I hoped maybe I could help. Even if just a little. Casey Joe Riggs had been playing a shit hand he’d been dealt over three decades ago, it was time for a shuffle and re-deal. He deserved a chance to find his happiness.
We spent the next hour shooting the shit like we’d never been apart. Casey Joe said I was different, but he was too. Maybe it wasn’t for the same reasons, but he’d changed. Not for better or for worse, just changed. Something I guessed we all did as the years went by.
An ache filled my chest. Fifty-three years gone. Fifty-three years…wasted? Misused? Had I missed the best years of my life in a marriage I regretted? Years lost thinking of myself one way, losing the chance at true love and happiness because I didn’t even have the capacity to think of myself another way?
Fifty-three isn’t ancient, for God’s sake. You take care of yourself and you’re healthy. Don’t wallow in what you might have missed, look forward to what’s to come.
My friend drank his beer, regret and misery evident in every cell of his being, and I wished I could help him look forward to something better. But I knew from experience that I couldn’t force that on anyone. Casey Joe would have to come to that point himself. Until then, I’d just be the best friend I could be.
By sleeping with his son?
Fuck.
Part of me felt like a grade-A asshole for even contemplating taking that spark with Hudson and working to make it more. But the other part of me figured if something took shape between Hudson and me, it would be between two consenting adults and we’d deal with any fall-out if it was needed.
By fall-out, I meant Casey Joe.
And maybe Henry.
Would Henry be pissed I had a thing for his brother?
Would Casey Joe and Henry think I’d been perving over Hudson for decades?
Nothing could be further from the truth. I hadn’t even thought about looking at other dudes until about halfway through my eight years away. I definitely hadn’t been drooling over Hudson all those years ago. It had taken the baggage of a shit marriage, missing home, the trauma of watching a person die slowly, and having Kim cheat on me before she walked away to push me toward the deep soul-searching that finally led to me recognizing that part of myself.
The me of now definitely remembered twenty-five-year-old Hudson as a gorgeous specimen when I left town, but the me of twenty-some years ago wouldn’t have given a guy a second look—especially not a teenaged one.
The man I’d become—the man I’d finally accepted as the real me—wanted to cherish the past I had with the Riggs family, but more than anything, I wanted to build a future with them. Reconnecting with friends, learning to love each other as we were now.
And hopefully helping Hudson realize that loving someone didn’t have to mean losing them.
If I don’t stay, they can’t leave. Hudson’s words came back to me.
I definitely had my work cut out for me.
And who was I to think I could win him over? Show him relationships didn’t have to hurt? A middle-aged divorced man who recently discovered his sexuality fell somewhere on the not-straight portion of the spectrum. What did I have to teach Hudson?
Not to mention the fact that maybe Hudson wasn’t attracted to me in the same way. Was I being a total ass thinking that just because I’d felt a connection to the man, he did as well? There was a very good chance he felt none of what I felt.
But…
That invisible string coiled in my belly pulled, yearning for the man I’d spent days texting with and hours discussing our new business adventure.
I maybe didn’t have a lot of experience with strong, loving relationships, but I knew what my gut said. Knew what my heart wanted. This wasn’t infatuation or a crush. It had come on quickly, but it was as real as anything I’d ever felt.
And he’d felt something too. No one spends that many hours texting if all they wanted was sex. He maybe wanted sex, but there was more there.
Hudson and I were meant to be.
We’d needed a good chunk of time—say, thirty-three years—to get to a point where our connection could turn into something good.
And now we were here.
It was maybe quick, but it was the most right thing I’d ever felt.
I just needed to win Hudson over. Give him so much good that he had no option but to stay.
Then prove to him I wasn’t going to leave.
Haven Grove was my home.
Hudson was my future.
I walked into the bar about twenty minutes ’til six the day Hudson and I were meeting to go over business shit. I’d had almost a full week of thinking about him and what I wanted from life now that I was back in Haven Grove.
That instant spark of connection we’d had through messages on ClickC*ck had been just enough to reignite the closeness we’d had in the past. I’d accepted that perhaps I was just lonely and horny—maybe the draw toward Hudson would ease once we’d had some time apart.
But we’d been texting from sun up to sun down over the past week and nothing had changed. If anything, the time away and the easy conversations had only fanned the flames.
Only made me want him more.
Want him as in all of him.
Not just for sex.
His heart, his body, his mind, all of it.
Yeah, I knew I could have him for sex at the drop of a hat, but I wanted more than that. I wanted to know what made him tick, wanted to know the man he kept hidden from everyone else.
Maybe you could have sex with him first and then work toward having more with him.
The thought had been running through my head ever since Hudson told me his offer stood. While I wanted more with him—and part of me feared he’d shut me out completely once we slept together—I wasn’t sure involving sex in the situation was the best idea.
But on the other hand, I wasn’t sure it was a bad idea either.
I’d decided we’d work together and see where things went.
“Look what the cat dragged in,” a low voice rumbled as my eyes adjusted to the dim light inside The Riggs Family Roadhouse. The place didn’t look any busier than usual and the bar was fairly empty for the time being.
The roadhouse was exactly what you’d expect from a small-town bar. Dark wood, a mix of tables and booths, windows covered in stained glass, a long bar with stools, and a line of every liquor imaginable lined up against the mirrored wall behind the bar. The original wood floor shone in the light of the stained glass and the hanging lamps over each table and the bar. The place did an amazing job of giving off homey and rough all at once.
Henry Riggs had a persona that screamed stay away, but he was mostly a big softie. He looked a lot like his brother—only slightly taller, somewhat scruffier, possibly a bit broader—but he’d always been the quieter one of the two. Henry spoke less than Hudson—or at least he always had back when I was around them day in and day out. He looked like the rougher and tougher of the two brothers, but those who really knew him—not more than a few people at most if I had to guess—saw the soft caretaker side of Henry. He’d always had a great sense of humor, his eyes sparkling with mischief and laughter when he was comfortable around a person.
Henry had made it his mission to take care of Casey Joe and Hudson from a very young age after Missy walked out on her family. He’d worked hard his whole life to bring in money, help his dad and brother, and keep the Riggs name on a pedestal in Haven Grove.
Looking at the man now, after eight years of being away, I saw the same old soft-spoken caretaker, his eyes bright with humor as he teased me. But Henry also looked…empty? Like something was missing. After knowing the brothers their entire life, I immediately thought that if Hudson was conquering his trauma with random, meaningless hookups, Henry was likely doing the opposite. Henry would be the type to avoid getting involved with people, avoid opening himself up to the potential hurt. Hudson did the same, but he thrived on the contact—he just kept all that contact at a double arm’s-length distance.
“Henry,” I said with a smile. A whoosh of air escaped me when he pulled me into a hug. “Good to see you.”
“Grapevine has it that you’re home for good,” Henry said, releasing me from the bear hug and returning to his place behind the counter.
“Yep,” I said, accepting the water he placed before me.
“And you’re thinking about combining forces with the Riggs family,” he said, those eyes sparkling.
“Yep.” I couldn’t help the grin. “Hudson and I are meeting to go over plans.”
“I know.”
I cocked a brow.
Henry shrugged. “Hudson’s been chittering about it since you brought it up. He wants to act like he doesn’t have time, but he’s excited about it.”
My chest filled with warmth. “Yeah?”
Henry nodded.
“And what about you? You think it’s a good idea?”
The big guy slid a menu in front of me. “I think the store and your place will have a lot more opportunity to help each other out, but I’m down for figuring out how the roadhouse can fit into everything.”
“I’ll order dinner once Hudson gets here, but give me a Peach Sour for now.” I took a long swallow of my water while Henry mixed my drink. “That peach simple syrup right there will be one of the biggest ways you can be involved. Everyone loves it, loves that it’s made right here, loves to fancy themselves a mixologist at home in their kitchen with your peach syrup. We’ll sell it at the shop—promo it as the perfect addition to a milkshake, with or without alcohol. I think, at least in the summertime, the roadhouse should offer peach ice cream along with other peach desserts. All three places will sell each other’s gift certificates. Maybe you could add some Sweet & Creamy and Juicy Peach merchandise here and we’ll do the same with Riggs’ Roadhouse t-shirts and glasses.” I took a sip of the Peach Sour Henry placed before me. “Damn, that’s even better than I remember it. So, what do you think?”
“I’m in. I think it’s a great idea. Kinda makes me wonder why we didn’t do it earlier.”
I shrugged. “Mom wasn’t on board. Your dad didn’t like the idea. Not sure Billy would have either—or at least he probably wouldn’t have been able to follow through with it.”
“Well, you’ve got Hudson all worked up about possibilities,” Henry said. “The orchard and store kinda got thrust on him—he’s worked at both his whole life, but being the sole person responsible for all of it…especially when Billy almost tanked it…has put a lot of stress on him. But he’s keyed up with ideas.”
“We had a pretty good talk. I trust him to work his ass off alongside me to make this work.”
Henry fixed me with a look I couldn’t decipher.
“What?”
“He told me about the way you met up,” Henry said.
My heart caught in my throat. “Does that bother you?”
“What?”
“That I was on that app?”
“You know I’m bi.”
I nodded.
“So, no, it doesn’t bother me. I don’t get the whole random hookup thing, but he seems to be happy with it.”
I held up a hand. “We didn’t hook up.”
With a tiny grin, Henry said, “I know.” He paused and I knew there was more he wanted to say.
I raised my brows and waited.
Henry cleared his throat. “He’s been talking a lot about you.”
“Good or bad?”
He shook his head. “Neither. Just talking. Like he doesn’t want to sound too eager but can’t help keepin’ your name in his mouth.”
My name in his mouth? Sweet jeezus. The picture that painted. “And you think it’s a bad idea?”
Henry took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “I think that Hudson needs someone to love him and take care of him. I think he needs to stop with the random sex and look for something real.” He filled my water and nodded toward my glass. When I nudged the glass toward him, he took it, mixing another Peach Sour while he spoke. “I think it may be the stupidest thing either of you have ever done if you get involved in business and pleasure when you both plan to build futures here.”
“But?”
Henry shook his head, a soft grin teasing his lips. “But…I also think Hudson’s trying real hard to convince himself all he wants with you is a random hookup. I think he’s fooling himself if he thinks knowing someone for thirty-three years can lead to a successful, no-strings-attached hookup. I think there’s way too much history between the two of you. I think Dad will likely have your head.”
I swallowed. Hard. “Gee, tell me how you really feel,” I deadpanned.
Henry chuckled. “I have to say that it seems a bit quick,” he hedged.
“It does, I’ll agree.” I took a sip of the sweet peach concoction. “On the flip side, we’re not strangers. And we’ve spent more time talking and texting in the last week than I spoke to my ex in the whole last year we were together.”
“Maybe it’s one of those when you know you know type things. Can’t say I’ve ever experienced it, at least not relationship-wise, but I’ve had the feeling regarding other things.”
“Yeah, that’s kinda the way I’m feeling. It just feels different. Right somehow.”
“Main thing I know is Hudson has never talked about someone as much as he’s talked about you.” He frowned. “So, I guess what I’m saying is, if you think this could be something real, go for it. If you’re not into him, not looking for anything other than one-and-done sex, don’t get involved. He’d say he was fine with it. He’d swear it was what he wanted. But he has zero experience sleeping with guys he’s known his whole life—I really don’t think he could do casual with you and it would eat him up.”
“I am.”
Henry narrowed his eyes. “You are what?”
“Into him. But I don’t do random and casual.”
“Why were you on ClickC*ck?”
I huffed out a breath. “Figuring things out. Curiosity. Hell, at this point, maybe I should say fate had me create an account.”
“So, what’s your plan?”
I ran a hand over my face and chuckled. “Well, I’m a fish out of water here. Crappy marriage, cheated on, divorced, and I’ve only known I’m not straight for about four years. But I guess my plan is to woo him. Romance him? Convince him we’re better together than apart? Show him that not everyone leaves?” Dropping my head onto my arms on the bar, I groaned. “Fuck, I have no clue.”
When I finally pulled myself back up, Henry nodded, his face serious. “You’ll have to be patient.”
“I can do that.”
“He may really fight you.”
“That’s okay.”
He cocked his head. “Or, he may fall apart the moment he gets a sense of what it’s like to be taken care of. Soon as he lets you in just a fraction, his walls might crumble. Honestly, could go either way.”
“I’m here for good. I can be patient. I know it’s insane how we met back up. The age gap, the fact I’ve known him his whole life, he’s my best friend’s son. All of it. But I don’t know how to walk away from it. Don’t know how to shut it off.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Oh, god, the age gap. Is it too weird? Creepy? Fuck, Casey Joe is going to kill me.”
Henry made a sound between a grunt and a chuckle. “Twenty years is one of those numbers that can seem like forever and nothing all at once.”
“So, am I a creepy old man or not?”
“Nah, you’re not old. And Hudson is a grown-ass man. He can decide who he likes and wants to spend time with. Some people might do a double-take…might talk a bit…but I know my brother has a good head on his shoulders. If he decides he wants to be with you, so be it.”
I huffed. “And Casey Joe?”
Henry chuckled again and winced. “Well, Dad may be a different story all together. I’m thinking maybe you don’t let on the two of you have something going on until you’re both one hundred percent what you’ve got. That way, you can defend yourselves and show him it’s real. If he catches you and neither of you can claim it’s something more than sex, he’s likely to be big-time pissed—worried about his baby boy being taken advantage of and whatnot. Even though he knows Hudson is an adult, Dad will strike first and ask questions later.” Henry cocked his head, his eyes squinting as if thinking something over. “Not sure if you being his best friend and so close to us growing up will work in your favor or against it.”
Groaning, I drained my drink. “Can’t say you’ve helped me feel any better,” I groused.
Henry just smiled.
I checked my phone. It was almost six. “Hey, listen, can you help me give Hudson a rough time?”
“I live to give my baby brother shit,” Henry said, his eyes sparkling.
Five minutes later, the door opened and Hudson walked in.
Just like when I saw him again for the first time at Glazed Buns, my breath caught. He was so damn gorgeous. The sandy blond hair, those bright blue eyes, that ass encased in jeans that looked as if they’d been made especially for him. He exuded sex appeal, but Hudson also had an air of eager, clumsy puppy—all big feet and excitement—about him. Maybe it was because he was younger, maybe it was just his zest for life, but I loved it.
“Hey,” Hudson said when he sat down next to me at the bar.
“Hey.”
“Didn’t know you had a date,” Henry said with a smirk.
“Fuck you,” Hudson said to his brother before turning to me. “And fuck you too. It’s not a date.”
I pulled out my phone and showed him the dictionary definition of a date. A social or romantic appointment or engagement.
Hudson scoffed and pulled out his phone, tapping aggressively. “Ha. First, this isn’t romantic.”
“Could be, if you’d let it,” I murmured.
Hudson ignored me. “Second,” he stuck his phone in my face, “similar words are appointment and meeting. This is a meeting. Nothing more.” He leaned in close, his voice taking on a sultry quality. “Now, if you wanted to define date as a consensual sexual engagement, I’d be willing to accept.”
I grabbed the menu and scanned the choices, hoping that thinking about French fries would help me ignore the heat roiling through me at Hudson’s words. The way his warm, soft breath tickled against my skin.
“I’ll have the Riggs burger, fries, ranch, and an unsweet tea,” I said. They’d added a bit to the menu over the years, but the burger was a tried-and-true favorite.
“Damn man,” Hudson teased. “How do you look so good eating like that?”
Basking in the compliment, but doing my best not to let it show, I stood and gestured toward a table as I said, “Balance is key. And I’ll work it off at the shop or the gym.”
“The gym,” Hudson echoed, “is in desperate need of someone new to run it. Really hoping they end up selling it to someone who is going to turn it around. Needs new equipment—hell, needs a whole damn makeover. It’s like walking into a dungeon of rusty metal, old sweat, and hibernating fungus, and trying to work out.”
Hudson told Henry he wanted the grilled lemon pepper chicken and sautéed vegetables, a salad with vinaigrette, and sparkling water.
Henry chuckled and flipped his brother off. “Your usual then?”
“Obviously.”
We made our way to a booth in the far corner. The roadhouse had quite a few customers eating and talking, some just drinking and watching TV, but the booth was set away from everything enough to provide a bit of privacy.
I pulled a notebook and pen from my computer bag and glanced at Hudson. “Did you come prepared for brainstorming?”
His cheeks pinked. “Um, uh…”
“That’s what I figured,” I teased. Pulling out a second notebook and pen, I slid them across the table. “Let’s do this.”