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Story: Edge of Whispers

“Not yet,” I admitted. “What about you? Are you sore?”
“I’m fine. I’m great. But I’d rather just talk for a while.”
“Okay.” I rolled onto my side, facing her, stroking the curve of her side, the beautiful swell of her hip. “What about?”
“Not quite sure yet,” she said. “Let’s take it take it one minute at a time. Let’s listen to the tune. We’ll see what comes to us.”
We just stared at each other in the moonlight as I ran my fingers back up her body, and through her silky hair. Eoin ended “The Soldier’s Vow” and launched into “The Women of Ireland.”
“God, that kid is good,” she murmured as the plaintive tune filled the air. “So he rents your basement?”
“Not exactly. He just bunks there. It’s a space for him to crash.”
“You give him a job and a place to stay, for free? That’s awfully nice of you.”
“Not really,” I said. “People helped me when I was young. I figure that this is the best way to pay them back. Besides, he’s family. My mom’s cousin’s boy.”
“People helped you how?” Her slender hand trailed over my shoulders, exploring my body with her fingertips. The tender caress seemed to zing straight to my dick, making it pulse and throb. I let out a slow, controlling breath, resolving to keep it together. I’d told her just a couple of hours ago that I wasn’t an animal. Now I had to live up to those rash words.
I wrangled my attention back to her question by brute force of will. “When I was Eoin’s age, I did a lot of traveling. I worked my way across America on cattle ranches. I crewed on a yacht in the Pacific. I worked on sheep stations in Australia for a while. I had a great time, learned a lot, met a bunch of great people who gave me a meal, a job, or a place to sleep. It was a good education.”
“Wow. That’s adventurous. How did your parents take it?”
“They worried. My stepfather wanted me to be a cop, like him. He thought I’d be good at it, and maybe he was right. I considered it for a while. But that job wears you down on a soul level. There’s so much cruelty and ugliness, and as a cop, you have to witness it firsthand. I didn’t want to. Hank was disappointed, but he understood.”
“Hank,” she murmured. “He was your stepfather?”
“Yeah. He was a good man. He was the one who taught me music. Carpentry, too. It was what he did to relax.” I traced the curve of her cheekbone with my finger as Eoin’s pipes began to sob out yet another haunting tune.
“You never thought about going to college?”
“Sure, I thought about it. But I wanted to travel. And I wasn’t interested in any careers that require a certificate, so why go to all that expense? Anything you want to learn, you can just go to the library and study up for the cost of a library card. You just have to care enough to actually do it. That’s the hard part. Self-starting.”
She slid her hand up my chest, winding her fingers through my chest hair. “I never thought of it that way, but you’re probably right. What’s the story on your real dad?”
I stiffened. “Haven’t laid eyes on him in twenty-six years.”
Her eyes sharpened. “Oh. You don’t even know where he is?”
“Maybe there was an address with the flowers he sent to Mom’s funeral. I didn’t look.”
Nancy sat up, chilled. “Sorry,” she said. “Did I hit a nerve?”
“It’s okay,” I said.
She caressed my shoulder. “Do you, um…want to talk about it?”
“No,” I said flatly.
Silence followed. She looked worried.
I felt like shit for using that tone with her, but my guts were clenched up in irrational tension. Hers had been a completely innocent, reasonable question, and yet somehow, every word seemed to propel us closer to that brick wall that lay in wait for us.
Emergency detour. I grabbed her arm, yanking her down. She cried out.
I froze. “Did I hurt you?”
“No, you just surprised me. I thought?—”