Chapter 23
Casey Joe
A week after I made the decision to attend the stupid retreat, I was ready to strangle my therapist and cancel the whole damn thing.
To be fair, she had done nothing wrong. My childish ass was just mad because she was the one encouraging the retreat.
The night before I left, Henry and Jack closed the bar an hour early so our little group could gather in private. I didn’t need the whole damn town knowing I was leaving for six weeks.
Six.
Fuckin’.
Weeks.
Fuck.
In the grand scheme of things, it was nothing.
In my head, it was long enough for the town, my boys, and Bryce to all figure out they were better off without me.
Realize they didn’t really need me.
“This peach shit is so good,” Hudson said as we all sat around the fire pit at the Roadhouse. “Perfect for a cool night.”
I knew damn well the original recipe for the peach cider had bourbon in it, but Jack had made the mocktail version and heated it up with cinnamon sticks and warm cream. It really was delicious, and I didn’t think I was the only one not missing the alcohol at all.
“Anyone want more bread and dip?” Jack asked.
The kid lived to feed people. It wasn’t an exaggeration to say every time someone enjoyed his drinks, his food, or his desserts, Jack’s heart doubled in size.
That night, he’d made the garden pesto dip slightly thicker and served it with tiny little knives for spreading it on homemade cheddar bread. Knowing I wasn’t supposed to eat a bunch of sugary, chemically-laden, processed snack-type foods, I took one bite of the bread and knew two things.
One, at least it was all homemade.
Two, I was possibly going to die by carbs.
But at least it wasn’t sugary snacks, right?
Determined to at least try to be healthier, I stuffed myself on healthy veggies before filling my plate with pesto bread.
By the time the warm peach cider and Jack’s new recipe of sugar-free dark chocolate raspberry cake made an appearance, I was barely able to eat my sliver of cake and sip the cider.
Luckily, the damn retreat had a gym, and my therapist assured me we’d be outside getting plenty of physical activity every day.
Yippee-fuckin’-skippee.
I was having a real hard time picturing my ass at a retreat in general, let alone having activity time outside with a bunch of fuckin’ strangers.
My therapist kept telling me I was making it out to be a lot more like fictional movies I’d seen than reality.
Didn’t stop my imagination from going wild.
All too soon, it was time to leave.
Henry was quieter than usual, but he gave me a big hug. My gentle giant.
Then he was pulling a teary Jack from my arms.
Hudson was all smiles, but I recognized the mask. Damn. Wonder where my little boy got that from.
When Lance gave me a hug and slapped my back, I whispered in his ear, “Take care of him. Don’t let this get him down.”
Lance had smiled and given me a nod. “You get yourself all retreated up, we’ve got things covered here.”
And then Bryce and I were back at the apartment, showered, and ready for bed.
But I wasn’t sure I’d sleep a wink.
“When I can get mail, you’ll have to let me know how the gym opening goes,” I said as we settled into bed.
Bryce’s silence was a little too heavy.
“Bryce?”
He cleared his throat and pulled the blankets up to cover our naked bodies from the cool bite in the apartment air.
“Fuckin’ hell,” I muttered. “Do not tell me you think you’re holdin’ off on openin’ the damn gym because I’m gone.”
He winced. “We’re at least three weeks from being ready to open as it is. What will it hurt to wait three more so you can be here for it? The only reason this damn place will be ready to open is because of you, and I want you here.”
His words deflated me slightly, and I pulled him into my arms. “I get it,” I paused to press a kiss to his temple, “but I don’t want to know you’re missing out on turning a profit while you wait for me to get home.”
Bryce pulled back slightly and kissed me. “I love you, and I love that you put others first, but I’m not destitute. The gym can wait—”
“Fuck if it can. I swear to god, Bryce. If you don’t open when it’s ready, I will break out and come back here to fuck shit up.”
Bryce laughed.
The fucker laughed.
“Shut up,” I grumbled.
“Break out? It’s not prison,” he said on a chuckle. “And what good would coming here to fuck things up do? Huh?” He tickled me, and I yelped before howling in laughter.
“Stop, stop,” I groused.
The man figured out I was ticklish and used it against me damn near every day.
“I will open the gym when I decide it’s ready.” Bryce feathered his lips over mine. “And not a moment before. If that means we don’t open until the man I love is there to celebrate with us, then so be it.”
“Fuckin’ hell,” I muttered. “Who knew lovin’ you would be such a pain in my ass?”
Bryce snorted against my mouth. “Pretty sure it’s my ass dealing with any pain.” Before I could respond, he patted my cheek. “It doesn’t hurt, I’m just joking.”
I rolled my eyes. “Told ya, I’m willin’ to switch things up.”
He groaned and rocked his hips into me. “And I’m one hundred percent going to take you up on that.”
“Tonight?” Excitement and anxiety skittered through me.
“Definitely not,” Bryce said as he ran his fingers through my hair. “You’re leaving tomorrow, and that’s not the type of thing I want you experiencing for the first time the night before you leave. It can be something we both look forward to when you get back.”
“Gonna miss you,” I murmured against Bryce’s lips.
“Absence makes the heart grow fonder,” he quipped.
“I don’t know about fonder, but somethin’ is fuckin’ growin’ for sure.”
Bryce groaned. “Oh god, not the dad jokes.”
“Damn sure not talkin’ about growin’ dicks with my kids, so it don’t count as a dad joke.”
The teasing stopped when our kisses morphed into something more.
Heated and heavy.
Slow and sensual.
Warm, bare skin.
Arms and legs tangled.
When I slid into his tight body, we gasped as one.
We’d found some way to get each other off every day of the past week. Mouths, fingers, and jerking off, but every time I’d entered him—each time he let me in, spread open on my dick, crying out with every thrust—I knew two things as truth.
One, I was one hundred percent in love with this man.
Crazy for him.
Meant to be with him.
Never giving him up.
Two, I would possibly lose my mind or cry myself to sleep every night I was away from him.
Maybe both.
“Fuck, Bryce,” I whispered at his ear as his tight body welcome me home. “Love you so fuckin’ much.”
“Case,” he whined. “Oh god, that’s good. Case,” he panted. “Fuck. Do that again.”
“Jerk yourself,” I demanded, shifting to my knees and pulling his hips up on my thighs.
“Fuck, I love how good your hole looks spread open for my cock.” It was truly the most gorgeous thing I’d ever seen.
“Come for me.” Filling Bryce with my release, his ass clenching around me as he painted his stomach, had quickly become one of my favorite pastimes.
Bryce jacked himself in the same rhythm as my cock slid in and out of him. “Oh, fuck, Case. Fuck.” Then he groaned low and deep as he shot his load, thick ropes splattering his belly.
The grip of his tight ring around my dick sent me over the edge. With my hands clutching his hips, I slammed into him and grunted, my cock pulsing cum deep into him.
I collapsed on top of him, and we both groaned as my softening cock slipped from his ass. Rolling to the mattress, I pulled Bryce close, our legs tangling together. He snuggled close, and I pressed my lips to his head.
Damn stupid tears stung my fuckin’ stupid eyes.
My breath caught as I tried to steady myself enough to speak.
“Gonna miss this so fuckin’ much,” I managed to get out.
Bryce shuddered in my arms. “I know.” He pulled back and looked up at me. “But we can send letters, and six weeks will fly by. You’ll be home before you know it.”
Heavy emotions kept us quiet, only the sounds of our soft breaths filling the air around us, until we drifted off to sleep.
We woke once during the night. I gathered Bryce in my arms, making love to him, my heart convinced I’d never hold him again.
When morning dawned, we spent a few extra moments holding each other, savoring our time together, and forming memories to get us through the next six weeks.
At least I hoped we’d get through.
Bryce would likely be fine.
Me on the other hand? I was already convinced I was fucked.
No longer able to compete with the clock, we dragged ourselves from bed and showered.
Just as I pulled the coffee from the cabinet to start a pot, a knock sounded at the door. Bryce closed the fridge, where he’d been looking for ingredients for omelets if I had to guess, and made his way toward the door.
“Case.”
I turned to see Lance in the doorway.
Bryce kissed my cheek and moved toward the back of the apartment.
Lance held out a bag and a drink carrier. “Hudson and I wanted to make sure you got a good breakfast before you left.”
My jaw hurt as I held back the tears, and I could only nod. “Thanks,” was all I managed to get out.
Lance placed the bag and carrier on the table and grabbed me up in a hug. “I’m damn proud of you, Case.”
I scoffed. “What the hell for?”
“Swear to god, I’ll let you get one good punch in for the Hudson thing, but if we ever go a few rounds, I’m gonna knock your lights out just for being so damn stubborn and stupid,” he muttered over my shoulder.
“What the hell for? How about for those two beautiful boys you’ve got?
Two of the best people on the planet, and you made them who they are. ”
I started to protest, but Lance steam rolled right over me.
“Surviving the shit with Missy. It’s for the best you two didn’t work out, but that doesn’t make it any less painful. Not letting everything with Billy get you down.”