Chapter 6
JOHN
“Thanks, Wyatt,” I say, accepting the sandwich he’s offering me. The sun has started to set. Liam and I have spent almost the entire day securing the goat pen, and I’m starving.
“Oh, sandwiches!” a familiar cheery voice calls out, and my spine instantly stiffens.
“You’re still here?” I ask, not necessarily meaning to sound as harsh as I do, but as always, Chad appears unaffected by the edge in my voice.
“Yeah, Blake and I have had the best day. This wedding is going to be amazing.” He plops down onto the picnic table right beside me despite there being plenty of room for us to spread out.
“Thanks, Wyatt!” He accepts a sandwich, and I ignore the way something in my chest tightens over another man feeding him.
I should be relieved I don’t have to make Chad dinner tonight, but I’ve always been a jealous person, and I guess there’s a part of me that feels like Chad is my responsibility this week while he’s staying in my house.
So I feel like I should be the one to feed him.
I try to stop that line of thinking though, because Chad is a grown man, and he can take care of himself. He isn’t my responsibility. He isn’t mine.
“Hey, guys!” Blake greets us, giving Liam a quick kiss before he joins him across from Chad and me at the table.
I nod in response, searching his expression for any sign that Chad might have told him about what happened in Vegas, but he immediately launches into a story about a donkey, and I tune him out.
I’ve been on edge all day, convinced Chad would tell him that we’re technically legally married because it’s always seemed like they tell each other everything. But for now, at least, I don’t think he has. I really doubt Blake would hold back from talking about it if he did know.
Which means Chad is actually doing as I asked and is keeping quiet about something for once.
I can’t pretend like I don’t enjoy him prioritizing what I want over his lifelong friendship, but I know I shouldn’t, so I remind myself that he’ll be gone soon. He probably hasn’t told Blake because he’s having second thoughts about his grand plan to move here, not because he wants to please me.
For now, I’m just grateful I don’t have to explain anything to Liam, because honestly, I don’t know what the fuck I would even say.
Yes, technically I did marry your fiancé’s hot best friend hours after he claimed to be straight while we were both drunk at your bachelor party.
But don’t worry about it, I’m sure he’ll move on after he spends a few more days with me.
No, I’m not sure what I was thinking that night, but there must be something wrong with me because I seem incapable of refusing him.
Fuck. This whole situation is ridiculous.
Liam is staring at Blake so adoringly as he talks about chickens or something, and Chad is nodding and laughing along like he doesn’t have a care in the world.
They’re all so happy, so excited about life.
I feel like an imposter, sitting here with the three of them, pretending I fit in with their perfect lives when I obviously don’t belong.
I know Liam wants me here, but that’s mostly out of loyalty with how long we’ve been friends. Other than help around on the farm when he asks, I’m not sure what he gets out of our friendship these days. I know my company isn’t nearly as uplifting or enjoyable as the other men at this table.
“I should go,” I say as I stand abruptly and clear my food. “Let me know what you need from me the rest of this week.” They all offer their goodbyes, and I wave over my shoulder as I head for my bike.
Maybe Chad will stay and hang out with them until I’m already asleep, and then I can pretend like he isn’t even staying with me.
Except, I’m not that lucky.
Not even five minutes after I get home, he lets himself in, announcing “Hubby, I’m hooome” like he’s in a fucking sitcom.
I don’t respond. I head straight upstairs, tired from the long day working outside, and of course, Chad follows.
“Today was great. I wish we could have spent more of it together, but it’s so cool that we were at the same place, helping our best friends get ready for their wedding! I’m so happy this is my life now.”
For now, I correct him in my head, not bothering to voice the thought when Chad seems to have selective hearing anyway.
“So how was your day?” he continues, undeterred by my lack of participation in this conversation. “What were you and Liam up to? I want to hear all about it.”
I ignore his questions, and he follows me into my room, approaching the bed as though he’s going to sit on it. “Stop,” I command, and he instantly freezes, staring at me with a lovely mix of confusion and expectation as if he’s holding his breath for my next instruction.
I have to bite back a groan and ignore the heat that flares in my gut at how perfectly he responded to my demand, focusing instead on why I said it in the first place. “You were at a farm all day. Don’t sit on the clean bed. Shower. I’ll go after you.”
“Oh. Of course, sorry.” His eyes drift downward, and he sounds genuinely remorseful. He looks like I kicked his favorite pet or something. Does he really care that much about the idea of upsetting me? I shouldn’t like the thought of that so much.
“It’s fine, Princess,” I reassure him, using the nickname I initially called him in Vegas to point out how spoiled he is. But just as I expected, he perks up when I use it now. “You didn’t actually sit down; you don’t need to apologize.”
His shoulders relax at the confirmation that I’m not upset with him. “Okay, I’ll go shower! Feel free to join me.”
I shake my head as he disappears into the hall. He’s relentless.
After our separate showers, we end up in bed in the same position we started in last night, with me facing away from Chad.
It doesn’t matter though, I’m painfully aware of how close we are, the space between us alive with tension.
We’re both in just our underwear, and my cock is already half hard.
My mind is spinning with excuses I could use to touch him and not have it mean anything long-term.
“Good night, Hubby,” he whispers, cheerful as ever, and that stupid H-word is the reminder I need to keep my hands to myself. Chad isn’t looking for meaningless sex, and that’s the only thing I’m capable of.
I sigh before offering the shortest reply I can come up with. “Night.”
Chad has been gone all day, and my house is blissfully silent.
Well, I guess I should say free of Chad’s never-ending comments. The work I’ve been doing can get pretty loud. I blocked the week off from actual work in case Liam needed me for anything wedding related, but he and Blake are out running errands today.
No one has called with any electrical emergencies, so I’ve been working on my house. It’s a slow process, and today I finally finished removing the wallpaper in the living room. Parts of it were faded from years of sunlight, and others had been peeling, so it had to go.
I take a step back to admire the smooth walls, ignoring the boarded-up fireplace that’s kind of ruining the vision, but it hasn’t worked in probably twenty years, so I’ll deal with it as is.
I shove the last of the wallpaper into a trash bag as Chad’s voice rings throughout the house in greeting “Hi Hubby!” I don’t respond, rolling my eyes as he enters the room.
At this point, he’s saying that word so often I’m starting to wonder who he’s trying to convince it’s real: me or himself.
“Wow! Wasn’t there wallpaper in here before?
” I nod, and his gaze shines with undeserved admiration.
“You got rid of it all by yourself? That’s amazing. What’s next? Paint?”
I shrug. “I’d been planning to just replace everything. Similar wallpaper and carpet.”
He gasps like he’s horrified by the suggestion. “John, no, no, no. Hardwood floors are, like, way nicer than carpet. Why keep the walls the same when you can pick a paint or a newer style of wallpaper that you like? Don’t do all this work just for it to look the same.”
I stare numbly at the wall and swallow past the lump in my throat.
I know he’s only asking an innocent question, and a very valid one at that—I was surprised to find the hardwood in such good condition—but I’m struggling to ignore the knot that’s formed in my stomach at the idea of changing anything too drastically in the house.
Most of the rooms are in some sort of half-remodeled stage at this point.
I’ve gotten rid of a lot of the things that weren’t salvageable, but I haven’t gotten around to replacing them yet.
Sure, everything is so damn expensive, but the cost isn’t the only reason I find myself hesitating every time I look at carpet samples or paint colors.
Before I can figure out how to answer him though, I’m distracted by what he’s holding. “Is that a cupcake?”
“Oh! Yes, and flowers. I got them for you!” he says, holding them out toward me with a huge smile on his face.
I squint down at my dirty clothes and back at him holding the bright dessert and bouquet of multicolored wildflowers.
He’s so fucking random. Did he pick those flowers himself?
Did he steal them from one of the neighbors?
“Why in the world would you get me a cupcake or flowers? We’re not celebrating anything. ”
He laughs. “You don’t need an excuse to enjoy something.
Cupcakes are good, so I wanted to get you one.
And aren’t the flowers pretty? Looking at them made me smile, and I hoped they’d make you smile too.
I love your smile, John.” I’m sure my confusion is written all over my face because Chad laughs again.
“Well, don’t look so horrified. I was just trying to do something nice for you.
I actually have more planned too! We can save the cupcake for later. ”
I don’t like the sound of “more.” He pulls something out of the back pocket of his jeans, and it takes me far longer than it should to realize he’s holding a silk tie. What the fuck?
“I was going to blindfold you so it could be a surprise, but now I’m thinking you might want to shower first?” he asks as if that’s the part he isn’t sure about and not the fucking blindfold.
“Chad. You’re not blindfolding me,” I tell him in a firm voice.
Been there, done that, and I have absolutely no desire to do it ever again.
I’ve always bought into the idea that I should experience what it’s like to be on the receiving end of anything BDSM related I want to do to my sexual partners, so I don’t actually regret it, it’s just not something I’m willing to repeat.
His posture deflates at my turning him down. “But I wanted it to be a surprise; to be special.”
“You wanted what to be special?” I ask slowly, almost afraid to hear his answer.
He looks up at me hopefully, and damn him and those blue puppy dog eyes. I don’t know how he gets them to be so big. “I wanted to take you out to dinner. I found the nicest place in town, and I thought we could go and enjoy a meal together.”
I sigh. As much as I don’t want to admit it, I hate seeing him looking so disappointed, even if it’s only at the idea of not following through on whatever plans he’s made for the evening. And we need to eat. I haven’t made it to the grocery store since he got here.
“I do need to shower. Then we can go get dinner,” I reluctantly agree.
“Okay.” He lights up, holding out the tie again. “I’ll save this for when you’re back—”
“No.” I cut him off firmly. “We can get dinner. But there’s no way in hell you’re blindfolding me.”
“It will be fun!” he insists, but I glare at him.
And for some reason, instead of dropping it, I continue. “Chad, do I really seem like someone who would enjoy giving up the control that being blindfolded requires?”
His eyebrows furrow, and he thinks about it for a moment before he responds. “No, I guess not. You give off more of a ‘I’d like to be the one doing the blindfolding’ vibe now that I think about it.” His tone is light, like he’s teasing, but there’s also a hint of curiosity there.
I hold his gaze as I answer him more honestly than I probably should. “Exactly.”
His eyes widen and mouth drops open slightly. Maybe I shouldn’t have said that, but I couldn’t resist. I leave him standing there, silent for once, while I go upstairs to shower.
But the image of me being the one to blindfold Chad is impossible to shake.
As the hot water streams down my naked body, I end up giving in to the temptation.
My hand grips my cock as I imagine the look on his face when I walked away from him.
It only takes a few hard strokes on my aching cock before I’m painting my shower wall with my release, wishing I was marking him with it instead.