17. Vaughn
SEVENTEEN
VAUGHN
The firepit is at the far end of the back garden. It’s far enough from the house that you can sit around it and feel like you’re somewhere else entirely. Especially when the valley is dark and the mountains are a black outline against the stars.
I like it out here at night, but I’ll admit I don’t use the fire pit often enough. What’s the point when it’s just me here all the time? Or at least it was just me. Now it’s me and Silas, even if temporarily.
Two more weeks. That’s all I have.
Tonight, within the company of friends, is the perfect time to use it.
“I’m going to get the wood for the fire pit,” I say, as I step out onto the porch. “Clay, do you mind grabbing the cushions for the seats?”
“I’ll help you,” Atlas says, already moving with me.
The wood store is around the side of the shed, stacked under a lean-to roof I built in the second summer here. Atlas follows me around the corner, and we’re out of sight of the back porch and the house.
“I’m sorry about the interruption. We didn’t know you had people over.”
“It’s okay,” I say. “You’re always welcome here.”
“Mom brought the cake this afternoon. When we got news from Jordan, I figured it was the ideal excuse to come over. I’m assuming Silas doesn’t know what’s happening?”
“No,” I say.
He reaches into his jacket pocket and produces a small thumb drive.
“He found a connection between the law firm that sent your cease and desist and a subsidiary of a company called Vertex Holdings. Vertex Holdings owns another company called Apex Agricultural Holdings. I think that may be where you’ll find something, but check all the information. ”
“Thank you, Atlas. Please thank Jordan for me.”
I take the thumb drive and put it in my jeans pocket.
“He says he’ll keep on digging. He loves a challenge.”
We select the logs and carry them back around the corner to where conversation has turned to cake and who makes the best: Tess, Teresa, or Maria.
The fire catches quickly, and within ten minutes, we’re all arranged around it. Tess and Clayton are on the bench, Kai and Atlas in the two chairs, Silas on the log section I use as a seat when I’m out here alone, and me beside him.
Teresa’s cake turns out to be a walnut-and-coffee loaf that has the magical ability to keep everyone quiet. I guess we know who’s winning the cake wars tonight.
Silas makes eye contact with Tess, and they smile at each other like they’re keeping a secret.
For years I invited him to come with Rowan to visit, but he always had a reason not to come. “Maybe next time,” he’d say. Now, under the stars, talking to my friends, it’s like he’s at home. I wonder if he feels it too.
But he sure looks like he belongs here. With me.
The thought sits in my chest like a heavy weight.
“Are you entering any of the competitions?” Silas asks Kai and Atlas.
They laugh. “No way. Gardening isn’t for me,” Atlas says while Kai explains how the Neighbor Stories Airstream is going to be located on the main square so people can record their own messages about the festival.
While Kai tells Silas more about his work, my thoughts drift to the last couple of weeks.
Tess and Clayton visiting more often. Kai and Atlas showing up, knowing they’ll be welcome.
David flagging me down outside the café more than usual.
The community has been present more than ever.
Not that Pine Ridge was ever distant, but there’s a difference between being known in a town and being part of it, and something has shifted.
Some of it is curiosity.
Maybe it’s easier for couples to be friends with couples. Maybe Tess and Clayton find it more natural to come for dinner when there are four of us at the table. Maybe Kai and Atlas find it easier to drop by when they don’t think they’re intruding in my solitary life.
Or maybe it’s simpler than that. Maybe since Silas arrived I’ve been opening up more. Saying yes to things I’d have politely declined before.
Maybe Silas isn’t the reason people are coming.
Maybe I am.
Tess stands up. “Right,” she says. “Clay has an early start tomorrow.” She looks at Clayton, who nods. “Wonderful evening, Vaughn and Silas. The chicken was extraordinary. Atlas, please thank your mom for the cake; I’m going to be pestering her for the recipe.”
Atlas laughs. “I’ll give her the heads-up.”
Kai and Atlas make their excuses too, and after hugs and promises to see each other at the festival, they’re all gone.
We watch all the cars leaving until there’s nothing but the sound of nature, which out here is louder than I ever expected after living for so long in Denver. I’d forgotten how beautifully loud nature is.
The fire has burned down to warm coals, so I pour sand over them, and Silas collects the plates and the coffee cups without being asked. We carry everything inside.
“Let’s deal with the dishes in the morning,” I say, and Silas nods.
Somehow we end up climbing the stairs beside each other.
There’s this energy shift between us. I’m not sure what to call it, but it’s the feeling of an evening that was full and warm and is now over.
The house is quiet, and there are two of us in it …
We reach the top of the stairs. I turn toward my room, and Silas turns toward his.
“Have a good night, Vaughn.”
I turn around and look at him. The air between us crackles like the fire in the pit. That one has been extinguished, but the one burning between us is stoked with every glance, every innocent touch.
“Good night,” I say. “I’d love a good night. There’s just a problem.”
He’s very still.
“What problem?” he asks.
My hands shake, so I clench them.
“The only way I’m going to have a good night,” I say, “is if you’re in my bed with me.”
I hear the words come out of my mouth, and still I can’t quite believe I’ve said them.
Silas crosses the space between us.
I meet him halfway.
The kiss is not gentle this time. This is two weeks of keeping a distance even when we both know that’s not what either of us wants.
He threads his hands through my hair, pulling me closer.
My scalp burns, but I don’t care, because all I can feel is the taste of Silas’s tongue.
The soft lips, the scrape of his beard against my skin.
I reach down and pick him up. Silas isn’t a small man.
He’s slim but fit. Not entirely light, but light enough for me.
He wraps his legs around my waist, and I carry him through my bedroom door.
I drop us to the bed and cover his body with mine. I swear I hear a whimper.
“Fuck, Vaughn. You feel so good.”
“So do you. Your fucking mouth is sinful.”
We’re both hard already. I’ve been erect since he put his hand on my leg at dinner. We can’t stop kissing. I don’t want to.
Silas gets his hands on the hem of my shirt.
He pulls it up.
Then he stops.
I lift my head and take him in. His hair is disheveled, his mouth red, his eyes dark and certain.
“Are you sure?” he asks.
This man has been in my house and my garden and my life for two weeks, makes coffee before I’m awake and knows more about gardening than is good for my heart, has a Pine Ridge wooden bear on his windowsill, and has been twelve feet away from me every night while I’ve been lying in the dark not knocking on his door.
“That I want you?” I ask. “Absolutely. Without question.”
He holds my gaze.
“Of the consequences?” I say. “That’s not something I want to think about right now.”
Something moves through his eyes. It could be relief or recognition that us getting here was inevitable; we’ve just been too stubborn to recognize it.
He pulls my shirt over my head and runs his hands down my chest.
I watch his face as he does it. There’s a focused, unhurried attention, like he’s memorizing me, his palms flat against my chest, moving slowly, learning. His eyes follow his hands, and I absorb every inch of his heated gaze.
It’s been so long since another man has touched me. I close my eyes and breathe in.
“You’re so beautiful, Vaughn. Just like I knew you would be.” His voice is soft, sensual. “Do you know how often I imagined this?”
“You’ve always intrigued me, Silas. I’ve wanted you for so long.” I straddle his waist and bring him up to a sitting position. “Your turn.”
I reach for the hem of his shirt and pull it over his head. I knew Silas must work out regularly because the way his tank top hugged his chest when we were in the garden made my brain stop, but now that I can touch it, feel the warm skin, the ridges of his abs …
“Fuck, Silas.”
“You like?”
“Very much.”
“Vaughn,” he says, and my name in his mouth sounds different. “I’m gonna need you to touch me.”
“I thought I was doing that already.”
He grabs my hand and places it over his jeans where his cock is so hard it must be painful. “Sex Ed 101, Vaughn. That’s my cock. It wants you. Badly.”
“Okay, smartass.”
“That’s yours too.”
We get the rest of the clothes off between us until we’re just skin and warmth. I pull him back to me and we kiss again, slower this time. He flips us so he’s on top of me.
His hands are everywhere.
Mine are too.
He kisses my jaw, my neck, my chest, working his way down my body, and I let him, with the relief of someone who’s been told they can’t have a slice of cake and now they’re being offered the whole thing.
When his mouth finally finds my cock, I make a sound I’m not sure I’ve ever made before.
“Christ.”
He looks up at me from where he is, dark eyes filled with pure satisfaction, and does something with his tongue that removes my ability to form words entirely. I gasp, raising my hips involuntarily. He sucks me all the way down to his throat. “Fuck, I’m close. Please stop.”
He moves up my body and kisses me again. His cock is so hard. I want to feel the weight of it on my tongue, and I want him to fuck my throat like it’s the very last thing he can do as a living human. I want everything.
But this isn’t just about me, so I reluctantly pull my mouth away from his to ask, “What do you want?”
He holds my gaze.
“I want you to fuck me.”