Chapter 15 Colton
Colton
Jesus fucking Christ, Momma could make him want to spit nails. Seriously, giving Zach the goddamn speech about separate bedrooms?
One, the man wasn’t wearing a purity ring. Until he made a commitment to someone, he was a free agent. And two? He paid some rent and fixed the bad plumbing and rewired the front room so it stopped throwing the breakers and….
Colton took a deep breath and stripped off his uniform. Let it go. Momma had gotten his message. Now it was time to get the fuck out of the house for a minute.
There was a four-wheeler, a muddy road, and a stocked pond with a nice dock. Add a six-pack and a radio, and they’d be loaded for bear.
Maybe they could go pick. Just the two of them, get out of the fucking weight of opinions and eyes.
It was the going that was important.
He tugged on an ancient T-shirt and faded jeans, his old boots, and a straw hat that had seen better days. Zach had never seen him out of uniform. Then he wandered down the hall and knocked on Zach’s door. “You in there, honey?”
“Yes, you can come in.”
Zach sat on the bed with his legs tucked under him, seeming as young as Colton thought he was. He stared at the phone a second before he smiled at Colton. It wasn’t fake, but it wasn’t natural either.
“You doing… anything?” The smirk from Zach proved he wasn’t as suave as he’d hoped. “Sorry. It’s my nature to make sure folks, guests, are comfortable.”
“The sheriff telling you and your mother to take me in hardly makes me a guest.” At least the touch of humor felt real. “I… I was looking at the only picture I have of my mother. It’s been a while since I thought of her. Not that I remember her.”
Zach turned the phone, and Colton saw the picture. The older man had to be Jeb, and the woman in the white dress had her hands on Zach, who was around three or four. She was a sweet-looking lady, and the family resemblance ran deep.
“Your momma was real pretty.”
“I don’t have one of my father, so I don’t know what he looked like.
Maddie found this in a trunk after my parents died.
She took a picture of it with her phone so I’d always have it.
” Zach pulled it back and dropped it on the bed.
“Seeing you with your mother, I wondered what mine would have been like if she’d… if she hadn’t died.”
Now didn’t he feel like a shithead. Zach would kill to see his mother alive and he wanted to get away from his. “Mommas are funny things. They love us and want to see us happy, but they can’t seem to let go.”
“Mine did.”
Those two words nearly broke Colton. “She didn’t mean to leave.”
“I know. I just….” He heaved in a breath and shook his head. “No, I’m not doing anything.”
Every sad thought Colton had about missing his daddy was shit compared to what Zach had lost. “I thought we could take the four-wheeler, some beer, your fiddle and my guitar, and go play down by the pond.”
“Beer?” Zach closed one eyelid. “Weren’t you and Greg teasing me about how I got milk?”
He grinned. Something about Zach called to him.
Not just physically—that was a goddamn given that he was the cartoon wolf all bug-eyed with his tongue hanging to the floor and his heart beating out of his chest—but something heavier than that.
Dammit, he wanted a real, honest-to-God smile.
“I’m not at work right now, and we’re on private property. ”
Colton held out one hand. “Come and play? We earned it.”
“Play?” A wicked smile stretched Zach’s lips as he hopped off the bed, grabbed his shoes and his violin. “You need to watch what you say, deputy. A man can only resist so much before his will to be good fails.”
A roar burst from Colton. Zach had more layers than an onion. He might seem angelic, but he wasn’t a saint. “Honey, once we get this all put aside, you won’t need to resist.”
He backed out and led Zach to the back of the house. The tarp kept his used but well-maintained Polaris Sportsman dry. Colton stowed their instruments and went inside for the cooler and some beer.
He grabbed a six-pack of Coors and some ice, along with a handful of random snacks from the kitchen.
Zach wasn’t dressed for the mud, but they’d find him some old boots for the future, and mud washed out of denim. Securing the drinks, Colton noticed Zach staring at the seat.
Oh damn! He shoved aside the image of Zach pressed to his back, hands around his waist. It wasn’t far. They’d be good. The way his dick reacted, he wasn’t so sure. Still, it was going to be the most fun he’d had on the vehicle to date, even if a feel of that lean body along his was all he got.
It didn’t take any time before they were off, splashing along. The sun was coming out, the pasture was wet, but green, and everything seemed so alive.
Including Zach. They needed to blow out the cobwebs and the dust of the last couple, three days.
Music danced across the small pond. Zach stood on the dock, eyes closed, body swaying, as he played.
It was slow and passionate, sad and beautiful.
Colton stopped playing. This was a song for someone close to Zach, and he’d only ruin it.
A tear slid down Zach’s cheek as he drew the bow back one last time.
“That was beautiful.” He stood behind Zach and rubbed his shoulders. “What was it?”
“A traditional Scottish song played at funerals. Grandpa taught me.” He swallowed and bowed his head. “He was something to hear play. Especially the sad stuff. Grandpa had lost everyone.”
He could hear the unspoken, just like me, in Zach’s voice. “Aw, honey.” The lump in his throat wouldn’t go away. Without thinking Colton pulled Zach into a hug.
Zach resisted for a second and then relaxed back against him.
“He wasn’t much, but I miss him.” Zach sniffed and let out a rueful laugh. “Which is pretty fucked up. Grandpa wasn’t a good man, was he?”
Seeing Zach on stage, Colton never suspected the world of hurt Zach held inside. Colton was honored Zach confided in him, even if he didn’t know the right words to say. “You can still love someone who didn’t always do right.” He knew that better than most.
“There wasn’t a lot of love between us. He said it hurt to look at me sometimes because I reminded him of my mother. But he never hit me or abused me. He was just broken.”
So much for getting away and letting go. “Do you want to go on back to the house?”
“No.” Zach shook his head. “I’m okay now. Grandpa used to tell me about the Scottish lochs he visited with my grandmother on their honeymoon. Standing by the pond, it reminded me of those stories. It felt right to send him off with that song.”
He stepped away and Colton missed the contact. It wasn’t sexual; Zach felt good leaning on him.
“Let’s play something.” Zach picked up Colton’s guitar. “If I teach you a simple tune, think you can follow along?”
Was that a dare? Colton was never one to back down from a challenge. “I’m not you, but I catch on fast.”
“Then this won’t be hard.” Zach smiled, an honest to God one that made Colton grin back.
Before he passed the guitar to Colton, Zach played the harmony three times. “Play that and I’ll keep pace with you.”
Colton took a couple of tries before he had it down. On the third time around, Zach started fiddling. This was happy, quick and lively. Zach tapped his foot and smiled as if the last few minutes hadn’t happened.
The emotion and joy Zach gave off infected Colton. He played along, increasing his tempo to keep pace with Zach. Drawing his bow back slowly, Zach grinned.
“You’re better than not bad.”
That compliment, coupled with Zach's exuberance, made this one of the best days Colton could remember. “That was real nice. Your grandpa teach you that too?”
“He was classically trained,” Zach said. “He loved the folk stuff best. Irish, bluegrass, and of course Scottish. That was from Keith Douglas. I’d like to meet him one day.”
Anyone Zach admired had to be damn good. “Don’t know him, but I’m mostly a blues picker.”
“He’s Scottish.” Zach smiled. “You pick what we play next.”
Talk about putting a man on the spot. He thought for a second and started strumming. A few notes in, Colton smiled. “Can you follow?”
“Wagon Wheel?” Zach rolled his eyes. “What fiddler doesn’t know Old Crow Medicine Show?”
Colton didn’t bother answering. He just got to stomping along, pretending he was Bob Dylan back in the day, jamming and making his guitar sing.
He loved the way the dock’s old boards added their own harmony, wet wood creaking and groaning with every beat. It had been a while since he could remember being happy like this; bone-deep and sure. Not that he was miserable—hell, his life was good—but this? This was special.
The final chord rang out, sort of echoing over the pond like a hymn, like the best kind of prayer, because it was joy with a bit of green and a lot of whiskey-soaked laughter.
He glanced over at Zach, and the pretty son of a bitch was there somehow. Honestly there with him, like Zach had been on stage. This fucking crooked-haloed, fiddle-playing angel with singed wings.
Colton leaned in and did what he shouldn’t have, kissing Zach square on the mouth without so much as a by-your-leave. It was funny because Colton expected the kiss to taste of smoke or hops, but Zach’s lips were nothing but sweet water with the barest hint of salt.
Fuck him, that was something else.
The entire kiss couldn’t have lasted a whole five seconds, but he still pulled back after it was done, expecting the afternoon to have passed.
He sucked in a deep breath, intending to apologize, to say that had been a terrible breach of trust. A mistake. Possibly the best, most perfect brand of sin.
What came out was, “I ain’t sorry.”
Dammit.