2. Connor
Connor
I glance out the driver’s side of my truck and briefly let my attention get taken by an eagle as it hovers high in the sky, no doubt eying up some unsuspecting rodent in the exposed grasslands to the side of the forest.
There’s no fuckin’ doubt that we live in a beautiful part of the world. The nature on display is never less than spectacular each and every day. I’ve worked around the world but truly never knew pure natural wonder until I came here.
It’s just a shame about the people though…
The drive to town has never taken this long. Not ever .
And it’s all that damn boy’s fault too. I might not know his name, but I feel like I already know his whole life story, not to mention the story of his family going back six generations.
So much for a peaceful day.
Even my two dogs, Shadow and Spirit, have been talked into what appears to be a deep sleep on the back seats of my heavy duty truck. Usually, they’d be up front with me so I’m not ruling out the fact that they might in fact be a little pissed with me too…
“Do they always sleep like that?” Milo asks, barely taking a breath as he pivots from his Great Uncle’s whiskey distillery to my canine family’s sleeping habits.
“Nope,” I reply, keeping it short and not so sweet.
And before the boy can jump in with another inane question, I decide to take over for a moment and spell a few things out to him. The last thing I need is to be facing the prospect of this recuse mission becoming a regular thing.
I clear my throat and keep my eyes on the road.
“You don’t come onto my land again,” I say, a low snarl in my voice. “A one time mistake is one thing. You should have seen the boundary fence but I’ll make an allowance for the fact some asshole had obviously kicked a part of it down. I’ll rectify that, don’t worry.”
“But—” the boy interjects.
“But nothing,” I say, cutting him off. “My land is my land. You don’t come on it. And you’ve got no reason to return either. Got it?”
“I was just going to say that I have a name,” he says. “It’s Milo.”
“Well, listen, Milo ,” I bark. “Everything I just said still applies. I don’t want to catch your ass on my property again. Understood?”
“Understood,” Milo says, pouting somewhat as he angles his body away from me for a moment and presses himself up against the passenger door window. “ Whatever .”
“And don’t sulk,” I say. “It’s nothing personal. I’d say the same to anyone, Milo. I like my privacy. I like my life just how it is.”
And with that, it’s like I’ve just relit a fire underneath the boy as he shifts his body back to face me and begins on another one of his long monologues, this time telling me about some hairbrained business scheme he’s coming up with.
Apparently, according to Milo, it’s a great idea to make and sell coffee from a damn bicycle these days.
Jeez .
Bring back the old days where the only place you could get coffee was in a diner and there was only one kind on the menu: black.
“So, anywaaaay ,” Milo says, flashing his undeniably striking blue eyes in my direction as I keep my concentration on the road ahead. “You’re obviously enthralled by my coffee business plans. But, let me ask you a question.”
“ Urgh ,” I grunt. “If you must.”
I don’t know why I’m allowing this. All I need to do is get through the next ten minutes and we’ll be in town and I can drop Milo and his damn bike off at Cycle Stop and be done with him.
But I have the feeling that try to suppress this boy for ten minutes would actually be harder than just going along with whatever damn subject he wants to talk about.
“Come on, you said you had a question,” I say, my voice low as we drive past the new ranch house being built.
“So… are you really Connor King?” Milo asks, a note of excitement mixed with nervousness in his voice.
“That’s me,” I say. “My reputation clearly goes before me.”
“Yeah, I guess it does,” Milo says, a hint of mischief in his voice, the kind that does all kinds of things to me and makes me have the kind of thoughts that I really don’t want to have right now. “Aren’t you interested in why people might talk about you?”
“I am not,” I reply, shutting the conversation down in no uncertain terms as I turn the volume up on the car radio, put my foot to the floor, and drive hard and fast until we get to town.
I said Milo could ask one question, which he did.
But enough is enough.
My life is mine, and I’m not about to start opening up for some damn boy who so far proven nothing more than a giant pain in my ass.
* * *
“I guess this is it?” Milo asks, standing with his somewhat bent out of shape bicycle at the entrance to Cycle Stop.
“Yup,” I reply, my eyes involuntarily looking him up and down one final time.
Damn, there’s no denying that he’s cute as hell. Small, slender, but with some power in those legs too, presumably from all the cycling he does on other people’s land.
But whether he’s a hot piece of ass is not really relevant right now.
I’ve got things to do and so does he.
And we’ll be doing them individually. However I still need to say one more thing before our oh so wonderful time together comes to an end.
“Remember what I say,” I say, foreboding in my voice. “You do not come onto my land again. Not unless you’re ready to face the consequences.”
Milo’s cheeks flush bright red right before me.
Wait, he didn’t think I meant…
No, he couldn’t have.
Either way, it’s none of my business. I have things to do.
It’s not often that I come into town, so I might as well make the most of it.
And with Shadow and Spirit eagerly smelling the wafts of fresh bread coming from the bakery next to Cycle Stop, I think I need to move and move quickly before I end up buying every damn thing in there.
“Bye then,” Milo says, his big eyes wide with something I can’t quite place as he stands there, holding his bike.
“Bye,” I reply.
I turn and make my way down the sidewalk, hurrying my dogs along with me as the bakery smells fade into the distance and we make a beeline for the hardware store.
I’ve got a mental shopping list lined up and know exactly what I need.
And as soon as it’s all picked up and accounted for, I’ll be heading back home without a second thought for that damn pesky boy and all his intrusive questions and endless monologues.
* * *
“He wasn’t all that,” I say to Shadow and Spirit as they impatiently wait for me to lay down their evening meal of two steaks each and some crunchy veg too. “Now enjoy. You two eat better than most people. I hope you appreciate it…”
But rather than receive any thanks from my dogs, they simply get down to eating.
It’s early evening and I’m safely back at my house. It’s not exactly a mansion, that’s for sure. Two bedrooms, one bathroom, and a kitchen that opens out into a larger living area… it suits me and my canine companions down to the ground.
We’ve got warmth, shelter, and more than enough ability to look after ourselves without falling into the trap of modern bullshit and distraction that just weakens the body and mind in equal measure.
Put it this way, you won’t find a single iPad or iPhone in my house.
Hell no.
My only concessions to technology of that kind come in the shape of an old PlayStation that doubles down as a DVD player, a beat up old TV, and a flip phone that covers any communication needs I might have.
Which, frankly, ain’t much.
I walk back into the kitchen and pick up my own plate of steak, potatoes, broccoli in one hand, and an ice cold beer in the other. You can’t beat the simple things in life, that’s for certain.
“Come and join me when you’re all done,” I chuckle as the dogs set about wrapping up their meal. “But no begging for my food. And that’s a direct command.”
I take a seat next to the small dining table that often doubles down as my work desk, repair station, or book depository when I’m trying to figure out what to read next and what to sell.
But as I start to tuck into my food, my mind automatically throws back to that damn boy.
"Nope," I growl in between mouthfuls.
After that everything that went down in my twenties, the work I did, the things I witnessed… I swore that I would never bring anyone else into my life. It wouldn’t be fair on them, or me.
And anyhow, it’s not like I like the boy.
So what if he’s got a rocking body?
So what if his irrepressible attitude was kind of appealing?
And so fucking what if he had a spark of bratty sass that made my cock go from zero to a hundred in less than ten seconds flat?
“Come on, guys,” I say, finishing off my food. “We’re going on night patrol. I need to engage my brain, stay focused, and remember that I live alone for a reason… and no cute as all hell boy is going to do a damn thing to take me off track.”
With that, I stand and walk my empty plate over toward the kitchen sink.
It’s been me and the dogs for so long, and I see no reason to even contemplate making a change. And luckily for me, Milo will be too scared to cross my path again after the warning I gave him about coming onto my property.
All’s well that ends well, right?