By the time he turned back to the bed, Tim had shucked off his jeans and lay on top of the quilt in only a pair of boxer briefs that did nothing to hide the rounded curves of his ass. Down, boy, Zach told himself sternly. You’re trying to get him to relax, not seduce him.

  Not that he’d complain about seducing Tim, given the opportunity, but that would have to wait for another time, if this fragile friendship they seemed to be building survived past their return to Dallas. In the meantime, he had an offer to make good on. He poured some of the aloe on his hands, rubbed them together to warm the gel, and climbed onto the bed next to Tim. “Let me know if I press too hard. As tense as you are, too much pressure won’t feel good, and I want to help you relax, not make things worse.”

  Tim mumbled something Zach took for assent, so Zach set to work, spreading the lotion across Tim’s shoulders and down either side of his spine. Tim let out a little groan that Zach hoped was relief rather than pain, but he didn’t say anything else. Zach pressed his thumbs into the pressure points at the base of Tim’s neck, rocking back and forth to work out the knots that had built up during the drive.

  The moan Tim let out shot straight to Zach’s groin. He shifted to one side to work on Tim’s shoulder and hide the sudden surge of desire. He could only imagine what sex with Tim would sound like if the noises he was making now were anything to judge by. When the shoulder he was working on started to relax, he switched to the other side, rubbing and pressing and manipulating the joint until he could feel the tensed muscles ease up.

  He massaged his way down Tim’s spine, but his lower back wasn’t nearly as knotted as his neck and shoulders. Remembering how clenched Tim’s jaw looked after they’d gotten the Jeep out of the snowbank, he pressed his thumbs into the hinges at the base of Tim’s ears, threading his fingers into the soft hair at his temples.

  “You can keep doing that forever,” Tim rasped, working his jaw against the pressure. Zach could imagine that as his after-sex voice, which did nothing to ease his resurgent arousal.

  “As long as you need to relax,” he replied, even though Tim’s words were more rhetorical than anything else. Tim shifted a little, making it easier for Zach to work the muscles of his nape and the base of his skull, but even then, the angle was wrong. “Roll over. I can get your neck better that way.”

  Tim rolled onto his back, moving much more easily than when they’d started. Zach didn’t let himself look farther than Tim’s collarbone, no matter how much he wanted to know if Tim was equally affected by the contact between them. Instead he worked his hands beneath Tim’s head and lifted with his fingers where neck and skull met, pressing and probing to drive away as much tension as he could.

  “You’re more than pretty good,” Tim rumbled. It took Zach a minute to realize he was talking about his self-assessment of his massage skills. Tim cracked his eyes open enough to peek at Zach through his lashes, which, Zach realized, were unfairly long. “Would you mind rubbing my head?” he asked. “It felt so good when you ran your fingers through my hair.”

  “Of course. Turn over on your stomach again.” Tim complied and settled with his head turned to one side. Zach combed through the short brown strands, silky beneath his fingertips, and drew his nails lightly over Tim’s scalp. When Tim’s moans faded to hums and then quieted, Zach glanced down at his face.

  Tim had fallen asleep.

  He could stretch out next to Tim and drift off—probably, anyway—but he felt grungy from all the travel, not to mention horny enough that he’d be restless if he didn’t take care of things first, and that would disturb Tim too. He didn’t know what the weather would be like the next day, but he doubted it would be much better than today, which meant they both needed to be at their best.

  A shower it was, then. Except he’d forgotten to ask Alma where the bathroom was. Hopefully she’d still be milling about in the kitchen or living room so he didn’t have to start randomly opening doors. Rather than disturb Tim to get him under the covers, he took a second comforter from the quilt rack—he wondered if Alma had made these or if they were family heirlooms—and spread it over him to keep him from getting cold, before sticking his head out into the hall. There was still a light on in the kitchen, so he walked back that way. Alma sat at the table with a book in hand. “Sorry to bother you, but I forgot to ask where the bathroom is.”

  “Oh, how silly of me,” she said. “It’s the door across from your bedroom. I put fresh towels in there for you and then forgot to tell you where it was. If you need anything else, you just holler. I’ll be up for another hour or two at least.”

  Zach glanced down at his watch, surprised to see it was only nine o’clock. It seemed like it should be a lot later than that. “I’m going to take a shower and then settle in for the night.”

  “You sleep well, dear.”

  After turning off the overhead light and leaving only a small lamp near his side of the bed lit, Zach grabbed his dopp kit and a clean set of underwear. Tim hadn’t stirred, but he shut the door quietly all the same and crossed the hall to the bathroom. The fixtures were old but clean, and he stripped and stepped into the tub, setting the water as hot as he could get it before moving under the shower’s spray.

  After the cold and the strain of the day, it felt incredible, sluicing over his skin and warming him from the outside in until he could actually feel his toes again. He shampooed his hair quickly, then worked the soap up to a sudsy foam before starting to wash. As he lingered under the spray, the image of Tim sprawled out on the bed beneath his hands hovered at the front of his thoughts. He’d looked so good there, even tense and exhausted, and Zach hadn’t been able to stop his physical reaction, even if he’d done his best not to let on how aroused he was by the massage. But it went deeper than that. Yes, he’d been attracted to Tim from the start, but now it wasn’t just physical. Zach had gotten to know him a little, seen how deeply he cared for his daughter and the lengths he was willing to go to keep his promise to her. He wasn’t ashamed to admit he found that insanely alluring.

  The warm water wasn’t enough to counteract his erection as he trailed his hand down his chest to his groin. It felt a bit awkward to stroke himself off in a stranger’s bathroom, but his hard-on would make going to sleep a challenge, especially with Tim in the bed right next to him. If they’d found a hotel with two queens or a king—or even one queen that would give them more space than the double—he might have managed, but as it was, he’d be feeling Tim’s body heat all night. If he was going to get any sleep, he needed to relieve the tension still investing his body.

  It wasn’t the first time he’d gotten himself off, of course, but something felt different this time. He wasn’t imagining some faceless partner or the physical attributes of someone he’d dated before. He wasn’t even picturing Tim’s body, attractive as he found it. As he pushed slowly into his fist, he was seeing the surprise on Tim’s face when he’d offered to get him to Chicago, the smiles as they’d gotten to know each other on the train, the determined set of his jaw as he kept the Jeep under control, the peaceful repose on his face as he finally slept. Biting his lip to hold in any sound as he spilled over his fingers, Zach realized how much trouble he was in. He was falling for Tim Wyatt.

  He stared blindly at the tiles as the water washed away the evidence of his release. What the hell was he supposed to do with that revelation? Yeah, Tim was bi and so their sexualities overlapped, but that didn’t mean he was interested in Zach, or even interested in dating at the moment. He hadn’t said how long his divorce had been final, and even if it had been a while, that didn’t mean he was ready to start dating. He’d said more than once that he was very career-focused, and Zach already knew he wouldn’t do well with someone who took that too far. And yet here he was, because Tim might be career-focused, but not to the exclusion of all else, or he wouldn’t be trying so hard to get to Chicago to keep his promise to Megan.

  And it didn’t mean a damn thing if Tim didn’t return his interest.

  Finished rinsing, Zach turned off the shower, dried quickly, and pulled on his clean boxers and T-shirt. He wiped up any overspray and hung his towel neatly over the shower rod—after Miss Alma was kind enough to open her home to them, he wasn’t going to leave her with a messy bathroom—then gathered his things and returned to the bedroom. He dropped everything in his duffel and slid under the quilt, careful not to disturb Tim before turning off the bedside lamp. He lay on his back in the darkness for a long time, listening to Tim’s quiet, regular breathing, before he finally fell asleep.

  TIM AWOKE gradually, spooned around a warm body, so comfortable he didn’t want to open his eyes. He let himself drift until the urge to use the bathroom made itself known. He pried one of his eyelids open to find himself in a bedroom he didn’t recognize. It took him a moment for his memory to catch up. He was in a Good Samaritan’s house somewhere in rural Missouri. He was on his way to Chicago to spend Christmas with Megan. He was holding Zach in his arms.

  That realization woke him up in a hurry. He tried to disentangle himself from the bed without waking Zach, only to realize he had no idea where the bathroom was. He wasn’t about to start opening doors at random in a stranger’s house, especially when he was only wearing his briefs.

  It took another moment for his brain to retrieve the memory of Zach giving him a massage to help him relax after their hellacious drive. He had the vague suspicion that he’d made a number of embarrassing, uncensored noises before falling asleep without even thanking Zach. Then he’d wrapped himself around him like an octopus. He could only hope he hadn’t drooled on him in his sleep. God, he was such an idiot.

  Zach stirred and rolled over to give him a soft-eyed glance. He blinked a couple of times, then muttered, “Bathroom’s straight across the hall if you need it.”

  Tim took advantage of the directions to flee across the hall and into the privacy of the bathroom. He had no clue how to treat Zach after everything the night before—the massage, falling asleep, waking up curled around him. And they still had several hours to drive today, just the two of them in the quiet intimacy of the Jeep with no one and nothing to interrupt them.

  If he’d been thinking clearly, he would have grabbed his toiletry bag and a change of clothes before he’d run to the bathroom like a coward. He could have showered and shaved and dressed before having to face Zach again, instead of having to creep back in his skivvies. Maybe he’d be lucky and Zach would have gone back to sleep. Considering how his luck had gone so far this trip, chances were probably slim. Of course, if he hadn’t met Zach, he wouldn’t be here at all.

  Just because he’d slept better than he had in months, just because waking up with Zach in his arms felt so right, that didn’t mean it was real. They were still virtual strangers, and once Zach got him to Chicago, Tim would probably never see him again. Swallowing his disappointment at that reality, Tim washed his hands, raised his chin, and crept back to the bedroom.

  Zach wasn’t in bed when he returned, giving him the privacy to change quickly but adding to his overall sense of unease. Had he made Zach so uncomfortable he’d fled the bedroom already? Determined to set things straight, he opened the bedroom door to the heavenly smell of coffee and bacon. He shook his head at himself. His presence or absence probably hadn’t had any bearing on Zach getting out of bed, not with the scent of breakfast drifting down the hall. He followed his nose into the welcoming kitchen he vaguely remembered eating dinner in the night before. Their hostess greeted him with a smile and a cup of coffee. “The bacon is almost done. I have biscuits staying warm in the oven. How do you like your eggs?”

  “Ah, over easy, if it’s no trouble.” He glanced over at Zach, who was inhaling his own mug of something hot. Probably not coffee, since Zach had said the day before he wasn’t a big fan. Zach winked at him, and he hoped he wasn’t blushing as he took a seat at the table. “I apologize for crashing so hard last night. I guess I was even more tired than I thought.” The coffee made him feel a little more like himself. “Can I do anything to help?”

  “I already told your young man”—she nodded at Zach, and Tim felt his face warming again—“to just sit down and relax. I’ve been making breakfast longer than the two of you together have been alive.”

  Tim thought he should protest that they weren’t together, that Zach wasn’t “his young man” even if he wished he were, but Zach was speaking before he could. “You must have started cooking breakfast when you were a baby, then.”

  “As soon as I could stand at the stove,” she answered, bending over the oven to pull out a tray of delicious-smelling biscuits. She upended them into a napkin-lined basket and set it on the table before taking the bacon from the cast-iron skillet to drain on paper towels and cracking a handful of eggs into the pan. “There’s butter and jam in the fridge, so eat them while they’re still warm.”

  The biscuits tasted as good as they smelled, and Tim helped himself while stealing surreptitious glances at Zach, but nothing in Zach’s mannerisms or expression gave Tim any clues to what he was thinking. Hell, for all Tim knew, waking up cuddled up with near strangers was normal for Zach.

  No, that wasn’t fair. Zach hadn’t given Tim any reason to think that. More likely he simply understood the reality of two grown men sleeping in a double bed.

  “Weather looks like it might be clearing,” Zach said as Alma slid a plateful of eggs and bacon in front of him. “Thanks, Alma, this is terrific.” He popped a slice of bacon into his mouth and hummed in appreciation before continuing. Tim was thankful he was already seated, so the effect of that sound on his libido wasn’t obvious. “I checked the weather forecast on my phone. Snow looks like it may taper off once we get into Illinois. We should get you to Chicago in plenty of time.”

  “It’s a shame you boys have to travel so far on Christmas Eve,” Alma tutted. “At least my Roy only has a few hours’ drive to get home from Rolla.”

  “Tim promised his daughter he’d be there for Christmas,” Zach replied. “It wouldn’t do to break that promise, now would it?”

  “Of course not,” Alma replied with a kind smile. “You’re good boys, and she’s a lucky girl to have you. Shall I wrap up some biscuits for you to take with you? They won’t be quite as good as when they’re hot, but they’ll still be a mite better than what you’d get on the road. And with it being Christmas Eve, you never know what will be closed.”

  “Slip a few slices of bacon in them and we won’t have to stop for lunch.” Zach smiled back at her, and Tim had to take a gulp of coffee to hide the impact it had on him. Zach was sweet and charming and generous, and if Tim wasn’t careful, he’d be in over his head with no indication that Zach felt the same.

  When they’d finished breakfast, Zach insisted that Alma sit and enjoy her own coffee while he and Tim washed up the dishes. It only took a few minutes to zip their things into their bags and load them into the Jeep. Alma insisted on sending them off with not only the sack of biscuits and bacon, but a thermos of coffee and half a tray of brownies Tim suspected she’d made for her son but she insisted would go stale before anyone could enjoy them if they didn’t take them with. She flatly refused to consider accepting any money for their lodging, so Tim slipped a half-dozen twenties under the cookie jar on the kitchen counter when she wasn’t looking.

  “I saw that,” Zach said when they were in the car and Tim was pulling out of the driveway. “That was kind of you.”

  Tim flushed beneath his coat and scarf. “The officer said she had a room to rent and could use the money, she fed us when she didn’t have to, and then she wouldn’t let us pay her. It was the least I could do.”

  “Maybe, but not everyone would have made the effort after she said no,” Zach replied. “At some point today, you have to let me drive. You did all the hard work yesterday.”

  “Hopefully today won’t be as bad.” The access road still hadn’t been plowed, and another night of snow and wind had erased the tracks they’d made when they arrived the night before, but the interstate had been scraped and salted. It was still snowing, though not as heavily, and Tim had hopes they could make better time than the thirty miles an hour that had been the fastest he’d managed yesterday.

  That hope lasted until the road started to dip and rise as it followed the contours of the Mississippi River, forcing Tim to shift through the Jeep’s gears to keep from riding the brakes on the still-slippery hills. Zach’s online map suggested taking the 270/255 bypass to avoid having to drive through the St. Louis metropolitan area, but before they reached the exit, it flagged a warning that the bridge across the river was closed due to icy conditions, forcing them to stay on I-55. The road filled with more cars as they approached St. Louis, and traffic slowed to a crawl as they navigated through the city itself, though they did get a nice view of the Gateway Arch as they inched across the bridge over the Mississippi.

  Once in Illinois, the terrain quickly flattened out. In other seasons they might have seen a patchwork of corn and soybean plants, but right now the landscape was nothing but an endless vista of fields blanketed in white, broken by an occasional barn and silo or grain elevator. The open farmland did nothing to block the wind, sending gusts of powdery snow drifting across the roadway. As they neared Springfield, the snow changed to an icy sleet, coating the road and forcing Tim to slow down even more.

  “We’re starting to run low on gas,” he observed a bit later when an icon on the dashboard pinged at him. “Maybe look for a station at the next exit? We could switch off drivers then too, if you wouldn’t mind.”

 

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