Page 42

TOWELS HIT THE FLOOR

“It’s an adventure,” I mumbled.

I turned off the shower, using my hands to squeegee the excess water from the trail of hair along my chest and belly.

As soon as the heat dissipated, the chill returned.

Grabbing a towel, I stepped out of the shower.

I was still amazed that in a rustic farmhouse, this bathroom could be out of a modern design magazine.

Slate tiles? Floating sink? It belonged in an upscale hotel in Manhattan, not in a house with dozens of porcelain owls.

I wrapped the towel around my waist and wiped the fog from the mirror.

Poking at my stomach, I imagined how many crunches it’d take before my abs returned.

The role demanded a dad bod, and that’s what they got.

It had taken some getting used to, but I enjoyed not having to watch what I eat.

As long as Rose kept cooking bacon, the extra pounds weren’t going anywhere.

I grabbed my ditty bag and pulled out my beard oil.

Playing the legendary Valiant meant looking the role all the time, clean-shaven, with an emphasis on hitting the gym five days a week.

Now, I was having fun sporting a short beard and eating whatever I wanted.

I’d have to go into town eventually and see if I could find some flannel.

Maybe Edward had wood that needed chopping, and I could transform into a rugged outdoorsman.

“Tessa, you’d hate every minute.”

Vanilla and a hint of black pepper. If nothing else, I smelled better than I had in a decade. As I stared in the mirror, I flexed, showing off the muscle hiding beneath the layer of soft padding. I couldn’t help but smile. “I’d do me. I've done worse.”

Walking into the bedroom, I slid the closet door open.

I hadn’t brought much with me. I figured I’d spend a few days exploring Firefly and pick up the necessities.

It’d force me to get out of the house and stop moping.

Jeans? That seemed local. Why did I bring a dress shirt?

Green t-shirt? That’d have to do for today.

At least I remembered to bring sneakers.

“Ahem.”

I jumped, my heart forcing its way into my throat.

I spun around as my brain debated if this was fight or flight.

My heart thumped in my chest, and I could feel the adrenaline flooding my muscles.

It wasn’t a black bear, but the stranger leaning against the doorframe could certainly be described as a bear.

The golden beard reached his chest, and hair fell just below his ears.

I should say something. Speak. Words escaped me.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, holding up his hands to his eyes. “I thought you went to the farmers’ market with Rose. Bobby… I’m Bobby, Rose’s handyman.”

He let out a slight cough as he peeped through his fingers. I was about to ask what was going on when he pointed. With a quick glance down, I spotted the white terrycloth lying on the floor. There was no way to hide the embarrassment as my cheeks turned hot.

“Oh, my God.”

I rushed to pick up the towel, holding it in front of my package. He chuckled as the heat rushed to my face. I avoided eye contact, staring at his dark tan boots. I left New York to avoid scandals, and here I was, showing off my goods to Rose’s handyman.

“After Ed’s knee replacement, she forbade him from doing housework. I come in a few times a month to help with the chores. I hear the toilet won’t stop running.”

Bobby walked in as if there wasn’t a naked man clinging desperately to his modesty. He held out a hand. Was this normal? Had I fallen into a porn? Would horrible techno music play on the clock radio?

“From the eyeful I got, you’ve got nothing to be ashamed of.

Wave it around with pride.” If he ended the statement there, I’d assume he tried turning an awkward situation into a laughable event.

I recognized when eyes were casually observing and when they were studying.

When Bobby shot me a wink, we left friendly and moved into flirtatious.

I held the towel in place while I shook his hand.

The calluses suggested he had been working with his hands for years.

He was already looking at the bathroom door, but I swore his hand lingered.

Jason warned me people in Firefly were unusually familiar, and at best, personal boundaries were ignored suggestions.

Would this become one of those funny stories I shared at cocktail parties, or…

Before I could say anything, Bobby let go and walked into the bathroom.

Oh, okay, it was all in my head. However, the idea had been planted, and I couldn’t help but stare at his ass.

Damn, overalls. Why couldn’t he be wearing gray sweatpants?

Or a jockstrap. That’s usually what the handyman wore in porn.

I heard him remove the cover from the toilet.

A sane man would put on some underwear. The way he rolled with the situation raised my curiosity, among other things.

Could I be lucky enough to have a beautiful mountain man coming onto me?

I assumed, in a small town, that Jason and Simon would be the only gay men.

Maybe Firefly had more surprises than I anticipated?

Yes, I let my little man do the thinking.

“It wasn’t running too bad,” I said. I wrapped the towel around my waist and walked to the bathroom.

Leaning against the door, I watched as Bobby reached into the back.

He reached back and pulled a screwdriver from his belt and poked at something.

A second later, the sound of running water vanished.

“I like when it’s an easy fix.” He slid the screwdriver into its holster and replaced the lid. “Mind if I use your sink?” He held up his hands. Bobby might look like a mountain man, but he had manners.

“It’s the least I can do after flashing my junk.”

Scrubbing his hands, I caught his eyes, glancing at the towel. What were the chances the handyman had a thing for men? He could be a straight man sizing up the competition. If he wanted to wrestle for dominance, I wouldn’t argue. The more I thought about it, the more the tent poking in front grew.

He turned off the sink, patting his hands dry on a hanging towel. “Sorry again for barging in. Rose would withhold pie if I didn’t take care of her guest.”

I recognized the innuendo. Being in front of cameras for the last decade, I didn’t have the luxury of privacy. Growing up gay, I learned the code. It started with the pronoun game, never revealing the gender of our dates. As I got older, I learned to read between the lines.

“I’ll make sure she knows you took great care of me.”

The trap had been laid, and the ball was in his court. I wouldn’t jump a straight man, not unless he made the first move. Last thing I needed was the town gossiping about how I hit on anybody with a beard. I opened the door. I smirked, curious what he would??—

Bobby moved until his overalls brushed against my chest hair. While he bit his lower lip, I inhaled his smell of sawdust and earth. He placed a hand on my chest, his fingers sweeping through my chest hair. Next thing I knew, his hand was on my neck, and his lips pressed against mine.

The handyman leaned against my body as my arms wrapped around his waist. Where I expected his kissing to be as coarse as his hands, he proved himself gentle. When his lips parted, his tongue flicked against mine. As he pressed me against the doorframe, my towel fell to the floor.

He pulled away, hand still holding my neck. “Want me to get that for you?”

“I think we’re past modesty.”

We were at a crossroads. I could make out with the handyman and use it as material for masturbating later, or I could??—

Bobby reached for the buckle on his overalls. “I guess it’s only fair.”

Cue the porn music. I reached for the other buckle, unfastening it so the bib fell between us.

It caught on his work belt. I slid my hands under his shirt and lifted it a few inches, watching for his reaction.

When he lifted his arms in the air, I pulled it over his head.

Bobby had almost as much hair on his chest as he did his head, and I couldn’t wait to run my hands through it.

I slipped from the doorway, finger hooking in his belt.

Everything about this screamed crazy. Over the years, I had my fair share of hookups.

It usually happened after a few beers, triggered by a lingering touch or wayward glances.

This didn't feel like two men on the prowl, looking to get their rocks off.

Our chance encounter could have gone either way, but we both spotted the opportunity.

Innocent fun. As I turned around and sat on the bed, any idea of this being a mistake vanished.

“You sure?”

Bobby didn’t answer as he reached under his bib and unfastened his tool belt. His overalls fell, and to my surprise, my mountain man preferred fresh air and free balling. I ran my hands along his waist, rounding the curve of his belly and following the path of golden hair to his chest.

“Wow.” I gawked at his package. If Bobby turned out to be a grower, I was about to have more than a handful. The longer I stared, the more it thickened until it jumped. “Now I have penis envy.”

“Good thing I’ll let you play with it.” When naked, Bobby had a bit of a cocky streak. Gentleman in the streets and a Dom in the sheets. I didn’t mind that paring. I cupped his balls, impressed with how low they hung. Soon as I lifted them, his cock stiffened.

“How long do we have?” The last thing I needed was for Rose to discover the handyman’s real talents. I hope she wasn’t paying him by the hour ‘cause I could spend some quality getting creative with this beefy man.

“It’s not a very big market.”

Drats. It just meant we had to make the most of our time. “I can make that work.”