Linc had seldom been so reluctant to have a day off, and not even a long run with Ray and Garrick early Sunday morning settled him. He didn’t bring up Ray talking to Jacob while they worked out. First because he didn’t want Garrick involved, but also because he didn’t even know where to start. It wasn’t that much of a surprise—anyone with eyes probably had noticed Jacob’s behavior after Linc’s dad died and Jacob was around helping him, a near daily thing. Then Jacob had come out and everything had gone to shit with Wyatt. Jacob had toned it down some over time, kept the flirting private, but Linc had been deluding himself if he’d thought Wyatt was the only one who had figured out Jacob had a crush back then.

  Although, as he pounded out the miles along the back roads in companionable silence with his friends, dogs at their heels, he had to be honest with himself, admit that calling it a crush was maybe not the fairest to Jacob. That implied that Linc was blameless, like he hadn’t eaten up the attention right up until Wyatt warned him off. Jacob at least had had the excuse of being nineteen, horny and on the rebound. Linc was supposed to be the older, wiser one, but even now he could recall exactly how Jacob had looked helping him move mountains of crap out of the house, muscles flexing right along with that damn dimpled grin, sun in his eyes, sweat rolling down his neck, a trail that Linc had wanted to trace with his tongue. Then Wyatt had reminded him where his loyalties lay, and he’d boxed up all those impulses, tried to forget the moments spent working side by side, Jacob a bright spark in one of the darkest of times in his life.

  At least Ray thought all that was in the past, small mercies. Both his friends seemed oblivious to Linc’s inner turmoil as they headed back toward his place. Which was how it should be. No one knew about that...collision after the funeral. And if Ray had a suspicion about Linc himself, well, he wouldn’t be the only one of Linc’s friends to know. Wyatt had, mainly because they’d been kids together and he’d told him everything once upon a time. Garrick knew. Linc had never been particularly good at faking attraction with women, bumped along here and there with some ill-advised short-term relationships, but mostly he’d just lived his life as he saw fit, privately as possible. It wasn’t a state secret or anything, just something Linc preferred to keep away from work and stupid people.

  Bigger issue was this thing with Jacob. Not that there was a thing, but Ray thought he sniffed smoke, and Linc needed to be damn sure there wasn’t a fire for him to find. Hell, he didn’t know how to admit to himself let alone Ray that neither of them had ever let that long-ago attraction lie in the dirt where it belonged. No, it had merely shifted. Become a private game almost where Jacob tried to get him in bed, a score he was determined to settle, and Linc resisted, and not just because of Wyatt and having a healthy love of his own skin. No, he’d resisted because those old feelings, those moments, they weren’t a game to him, not ever. Not even when they drove him to do desperate things like after the funeral and again on Friday when he’d lost his damn mind, kissing Jacob in the parking lot, when he didn’t even have the excuse of grief and guilt.

  Nope, this one was all on him. And if he replayed that kiss, over and over while he showered after the run, well, that was between him and the hot water. He’d tried rationalizing the kiss all weekend as relief that Jacob had come back in one piece from his first solo jump. That was why he’d waited around, thinking he might as well tell Jacob he’d done well, give him some of that praise he always seemed to be seeking. But that was a lie. He could have simply sent a quick text, told him “good job.” No, he’d waited around because he’d needed to touch him, needed proof that he was okay. Need, not relief, had driven him. He’d needed Jacob, needed the touch and taste of him, until nothing, not even news of Ray’s warnings could stop him from kissing Jacob like a drowning man clinging to the last buoy.

  And now he had to go to Jenna’s party, act normal, and most definitely not lose his head like that again. Which meant getting ready, even if he didn’t particularly want to. Because he’d been the hungry Reid kid showing up empty-handed to Hartman family gatherings too many years when younger, he refused to do it now. So after his shower, Ray and Garrick long gone, he made a plate of deviled eggs to take to the party. Mrs. Billups, a widow he helped from time to time, had had extra eggs when he fixed her fence the day before. He wasn’t one to let food go to waste. So eggs. All fancy, his mother’s recipe from a cookbook older than he was. And a clean shirt, one with buttons, and him showing up at the party only a little after the appointed time.

  “Hey! It’s Uncle Linc!” Jacob greeted him at the door, holding baby Willow in one arm, Junior right behind him.

  Linc’s heart did that funny thing it always did when he saw Jacob with the nieces and nephews. Stupid heart had damn near beat out of his chest at the hospital after Willow was born, when he’d seen Jacob holding the baby while Jenna held May, who was crying because Wyatt wasn’t there to see.

  “Here.” Like back then, Jacob passed him the baby, who was bigger now, a warm weight to settle in the crook of his arm while he handed off the eggs to Jacob, a trade-off as easy as if they did it daily. The baby didn’t even protest the change, snuggling into Linc as they all trooped toward the open kitchen.

  “I found Uncle Linc,” Junior announced in a carnival-barker-loud voice. Looking at him was a flashback thirty years ago to Wyatt in kindergarten, faded memories of a little blond boy with a big family and a long ride into town on the school bus filled with shared sticks of gum and crumbled trading cards. A friendship born of convenience but forged in blood nonetheless.

  “Find a seat,” Jenna called, so Linc took a chair next to some older boy cousins playing on tablets at the table, transferring the baby to his other shoulder.

  “Do you need me to take her?” May flitted over, thinner than he’d seen her last, but somehow less fragile, not quite stretched so tissue-paper thin. Maybe living here with Jenna suited her. And maybe too it was the passage of time, the relentless march forward that Linc tried not to dwell on.

  “Nah. She’s fine.”

  “Thanks, Linc.” She gave him a pat on the shoulder before heading back to the kitchen.

  “You’re always the baby magnet. We need to find you a wife.” Jon, one of the older Hartman siblings, slapped him on the back, giving a meaningful glance in May’s direction.

  “Gonna nip that bad idea in the bud right now,” Linc said in a low, firm whisper. Jon was only a year younger than him and Wyatt. They’d all hung around some, had their first beers and plenty of other adventures together.

  “What? I’m just saying—”

  “Well, don’t. And don’t let her catch you at it either.” Even if Linc were so inclined in that direction, May was so far off-limits as to be wrapped in barbed wire. Luckily, the feeling appeared to be mutual, with her always cordial but cool, the way she was with all Wyatt’s buddies. But the last thing he needed was the all-too-helpful Hartman clan playing matchmaker.

  Across the table from him, Jacob said nothing aloud, but his eyes spoke volumes. Tell him. Just set the record right. No wife for you. He shrugged, like it was no big deal, while Linc went cold at the very thought.

  Nope, he shot back with his own eyes. The family might have all dealt okay with Jacob coming out, but there had been some rocky years in there. And Linc didn’t doubt that Jon would have a similar warning for him regarding Jacob. It would change things, and not for the better to his mind. Wyatt had intimated more than once his theory that it was Jacob’s crush on Linc that had “turned” him. Like such a thing was possible.

  And there was that old ache again, the bruise that never faded, Wyatt’s ability to flip on a dime, temper flaring, hurtful words flying, especially when he’d been drinking. Then in the morning, he’d be sober, saving Linc’s ass at work again, all forgotten, except not really.

  Even knowing Wyatt was wrong, Linc didn’t want to risk hearing that same accusation from Jon or one of the other siblings, or even Jenna herself. She was the closest thing he’d had to a mom since his own died when he was eleven. He couldn’t bear it if she pushed him away, if he lost this family too, right along with losing Wyatt and everything else.

  For all that he didn’t much care for parties, he’d always loved being in this house, all the happy people and commotion. A baseball game was on in the living area while kids played outside, patio door wide open as they raced back and forth. The women were in the kitchen, gossiping and setting up food. It was familiar and comforting, but he didn’t know how much longer he’d have it, especially with that urge to move on that he couldn’t seem to shake. Even if he pulled up stakes, he’d still be drawn back here if Jenna asked, heart still called to the family that wasn’t his.

  “So.” Jenna plunked a plate of finger foods down in front of him. “How much trouble is Jacob giving you?”

  It took him a moment to realize she meant on the job and not the memories of the kiss keeping him up at night.

  “He’s working out.” He kept his voice guarded. She undoubtedly wanted Jacob to not pass training, but Linc wasn’t about to lie to her. Instead, he added, “I’m doing my best to keep him safe.”

  “And who’s keeping you safe?” Jacob rolled his eyes, clearly already over Linc feeling responsible. “I swear all of you guys need to remember that I’m not in diapers anymore.”

  “Trust me, I’m not in danger of forgetting.” Linc tried to tell him with his eyes that he was well aware that Jacob was fully grown.

  “Good.” Jacob’s eyes sparkled with a mischievousness that made Linc’s stomach churn, equal parts arousal and alarm. Linc was almost relieved when Jon called Jacob over to see something on his phone.

  Linc made small talk with Jenna until she went back to the other women, then rocked the baby and ate his food and let the party swirl around him. Eventually, May claimed the baby back for a feeding. Jon motioned for him to come join the sports fans on the couches, but Linc wasn’t in the mood for more uncomfortable suggestions so he wandered a bit, playing trucks with Junior and some of the other younger boys. When they got bored, Linc ended up heading outside to the firepit like he hadn’t known all along where he was headed. Jacob was just working on lighting the thing as the evening temperatures dropped.

  “Need a hand?” he asked, squatting down next to him.

  “Yours? Always.” Jacob was far too flirty for his family being close by, but Linc liked the warmth in his tone too much to call him on it.

  “Here.” Linc handed him some kindling. Same as with the baby, they worked together silently, doing this task like they’d done it a thousand times before, when the reality was that the firepit had always been Wyatt’s domain, not Jacob’s. He liked working alongside Jacob, something that had both annoyed and buoyed him the last week, the way Jacob could often read his mind, anticipate what he was about to ask.

  And somehow once the fire was going, they ended up the only two out there in the big wooden chairs, alone but not really. They sat in a companionable silence for a while before Jacob shifted, leaning forward, voice a bare whisper. “You know, I’ve been thinking—”

  “Please don’t.” Linc wasn’t trying to be funny. The look on Jacob’s face, at once mischievous and earnest, so damn appealing, both turned him on and put him immediately on edge.

  “We need to get this—” Jacob gestured between them “—out of our systems. Once and for all.”

  “No.” It didn’t work like that, and it spoke to how damn young Jacob still was that he thought it did.

  “Hear me out. One night. Then we can concentrate on work after. Put it behind us. Take away the mystery maybe.”

  Linc snorted. It might be simply curiosity for Jacob, but it sure wasn’t for him. “It wouldn’t work.”

  “Maybe not, but I at least want to try. You don’t?”

  “I’m not an itch you scratch once.”

  “That sure of yourself, huh?”

  More like he was that sure of Jacob, but he said nothing, just stood. His no might be firm now, but he wasn’t made of iron either. Enough wheedling from Jacob and he might get twisted up enough to agree to that ridiculous plan.

  “Night. You have a nice time now with your family. And see you tomorrow. At work.” He chose his words carefully, reminding them both about the two big reasons they couldn’t do anything foolish.

  “Just think about it,” Jacob urged.

  “It’s cake time!” someone called from the house, saving Linc from answering. But he would. He’d think about it all right. He’d think about it tonight, alone in his bed. And probably tomorrow, in the shower. And he’d want it, just like he had for years now, every cell in his body aware of what he could have but wouldn’t allow himself. Lord, how he’d want it, especially now that Jacob had made this diabolical little offer. One night.

  And it didn’t help that a small piece of himself kept whispering, It might work. Never know. It could work. That part was wrong, of course, but it spoke to his want, wormed its way into his thoughts until he wasn’t sure how long his willpower could hold out.

  Chapter Seven

  Jacob guessed he was supposed to regret his proposition to Linc, was maybe supposed to be embarrassed and contrite that Linc had turned him down. Again. But he wasn’t, not even when Monday morning rolled around and he had to face another week of training with the guy. No matter what Linc thought, fucking wasn’t a terrible idea at all. They had something hanging between them, had for years now, and if Linc wasn’t ever going to come down from his high horse and give things a real go, getting it out of their systems made the most sense. A sexual exorcism or something. Anything was better than all this pointless wanting and not having.

  And Linc had kissed him, taken the initiative, twice now. He’d as much as told Jacob that he wanted him. That coupled with the fire in his eyes when he thought no one was looking made Jacob bolder than he’d otherwise be. And he’d persisted in large part because Linc’s reasons for not giving in to what they both wanted were so damn flimsy, especially now.

  “You got a bed, Linc?” he’d asked when Linc had finally pulled back from the kiss, just enough to rest his head against Jacob’s. Calling that fireball a kiss was a disservice to all the sweet, gentle kisses out there, but damn if Jacob didn’t want more. They’d ground together, fitting together like gears finally sliding into place, and he’d been just this side of coming in his suit pants when Linc pulled back.

  “A what?” Linc blinked, still looking every bit as grief-stricken as before the kiss.

  “Bed. Let’s go to bed.” He rubbed Linc’s shoulder, the need to touch and soothe every bit as strong as the lust. “Let me make you forget...everything. At least for a little while.”

  Maybe it was the tenderness that Linc didn’t want, the sympathy and understanding. Or maybe it was the need to be decisive, to actively choose to go to bed with Jacob as opposed to more or less falling into that kiss. But whatever it was, Linc stepped all the way back, shaking his head. “We can’t.”

  “Sure we can. What’s the point of holding out anymore anyway? Wyatt’s gone and—”

  “You need to leave.” Linc’s voice was low, a tone that brooked no further arguments and had him feeling small and ashamed. He hadn’t meant he was glad about Wyatt, not at all, but more that all this wanting-but-not-doing was stupid and pointless and had been for years.

  And now it was months later, and the memory still made him the same mix of horny and guilty and frustrated. Linc needed to listen to reason, at least once in his life. But Jacob had said his piece at his mom’s party, made the offer. The ball was in Linc’s court now, and Jacob wasn’t going to keep pushing, especially not when they had work to do.

  At least they had a busy week in front of them—more jumps, more team building, pack-out practice with hauling gear long distances, and some actual forest work too, the other less exciting but no less important part of their job as they worked to prevent the sort of large-scale fires that necessitated emergency operations. Controlled burns, tree removal, brush piling, construction and other maintenance jobs were a big part of what they did. Which meant he wasn’t surprised when a good chunk of their drizzly Monday was spent with chainsaws whirring, out on assignment, practicing some of their skills on an active forest management project.

  “This is key because later this week we’re practicing cargo drops and some jumps with gear. We’ll do some tree removal in a remote drop site, then pack out to a rendezvous point, a light version of what we’ll do during the fire season,” Linc explained as they packed their equipment into forest service trucks before heading to the project.

  “Trust me. I’d much rather cut timber than be in the classroom.”

  “Yeah, well, don’t get ahead of yourself.” Linc was borderline gruff, but Jacob ignored him and climbed in back of the truck, next to Garrick. If he acted normally, Linc would too. Eventually.

  And he was right because Linc settled down when they were out there, scaling trees and hauling branches and doing the other work that needed doing. Linc and the other guys had worked together so long that they had a natural rhythm, a steady patter of inside jokes and good-natured insults that kept the day moving and the work from getting too boring. Of course, it would be far different in the middle of an active fire, but Jacob enjoyed the tree climbing and other arduous tasks. He didn’t even mind the teasing that the others sent his way. It was worth it if it meant getting to hear Linc laugh and if it gave him a better shot of fitting in.

  “Damn. You’re fast.” Garrick whistled low as Jacob made fast work of returning to level ground after a preliminary ascent to prepare for felling a tree. The praise felt good, even if he did wish Linc were the one acknowledging his skills.

  “Guess we can use you when we have to do some demos like we do for the school groups sometimes. Less waiting around for the kids.” Linc picked up his chainsaw.

 

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