Page 31 of Captivated (Salvation #3)
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Zeeb opened his eyes, his nostrils filled with the scent of cotton and bed-warmed skin. The morning light spilled through the window, catching on the little motes of dust dancing in the air above them. Nate was tight against him, his arm across Zeeb’s waist.
Damn. Now I know why Butch doesn’t sleep in the bunkhouse anymore. Why would he, when he can wake up to this every morning?
What speared through him was the knowledge that in all his years as a sexually active adult, not once had he ever shared his bed for the night.
And what does that say about me?
Then he realized he had to move. He didn’t want Nate waking up to the sight of Zeeb’s morning wood tenting his shorts.
It’s normal.
It has nothing to do with the fact that a beautiful guy is snuggled up to me, and he smells amazing.
Hell, I could sleep with Butch and still wake up in the same state.
His dick jerked, as if to tell Zeeb he was full of shit.
“Morning.”
Fuck .
Zeeb sat up in a hurry. “Morning. Gotta go take a leak.” And with that, he launched himself up off the bed and went down the stairs, doing his best not to fall and break his fool neck.
“Thanks for sharing,” Nate called after him, his tone laced with sleepy amusement.
Zeeb closed the bathroom door and leaned against it.
He glanced at his erection, straining against its cotton prison.
“You can forget it. Go back to sleep. And fast, please.” Peeing with a boner was a chore.
As for shooting a load, that would have to wait until he reached the safety—and distance—of the bunkhouse bathroom.
He wasn’t a shy man, and usually he didn’t give a shit if one of the hands caught him jerking off first thing.
When guests were around? That was another matter.
But they all did it. Hell, Matt would sprawl on the couch when things got quiet, his hand stuffed down his jeans while he scrolled on Grindr or whatever app he happened to be using to ogle hot guys.
Hey, at least he doesn’t whip it out.
Eventually Zeeb’s dick decided to play ball, and he flushed. He wanted a shower, but this wasn’t his bathroom, and while he’d had no trouble being naked around Nate when they’d swum in the lake, Nate’s cabin felt… inappropriate.
Nate was out of bed and making coffee by the time Zeeb emerged. He tried not to stare at the graceful line of Nate’s back, the way his firm ass filled his shorts, or the sight of his bare feet on the floorboards.
Okay, that was new.
Since when have feet been a turn-on?
Zeeb had to get out of there.
He squirmed into his jeans. “I’m gonna head over to the bunkhouse and grab a shower before breakfast. You wanna eat here or meet me there? Your choice.”
Nate squared his shoulders. “I think staying here feels like a backward step, don’t you?”
Zeeb smiled. “The bunkhouse it is, then. I’ll make sure those hogs don’t eat it all.”
“Especially the home fries.” Nate’s eyes twinkled.
Zeeb gave him a mock glare. “Why do I get the feeling every time I look up, I’m gonna find you watchin’ me like a hawk?”
“Paranoia,” Nate told him with a straight face. “Your imagination.”
Zeeb pulled on his tee. “I’ll see you there.” He put his boots on, grabbed his hat and the keys to his truck, and walked out onto the porch.
Day ain’t hardly started and already it feels like it’s gonna be a good one.
That might have had something to do with where he’d woken up.
A song popped into his head as he drove to the bunkhouse, and he laughed out loud.
“Walking On Sunshine” was nearly as old as he was.
He recalled it playing on the radio in the kitchen when he was very small, while his mom baked and Zeeb helped, spooning mixture into muffin cases, adding ingredients to the bowl as she made cookies.
And right then, it captured his mood.
He parked next to the barn, and as he rounded the corner, he spied Butch leaning against the paddock fence, one boot hooked on the bottom rail, his eyes tracking Paul who was already out there. Bailey kicked up little clouds of dust as he trotted in slow, lazy circles.
Zeeb came up beside Butch and leaned on the same rail. Butch’s hat shadowed his face, but Zeeb caught the flicker of a glance from under the brim.
“You good?” Butch asked.
“Yeah.” He was better than good.
There was a pause. “Another night at the cabin, huh?”
Zeeb watched the muscles ripple beneath Bailey’s smooth coat as he picked up a little speed. “You know what conversion therapy is?”
He knew it wasn’t his story to tell, but it felt important to explain.
Besides, Nate’ll be gone at the weekend, and that’s the last we’ll see of him.
The thought dampened his mood.
Butch stiffened. “I wish I could say I didn’t.” Another glance at Zeeb. “Nate? That his story?” When Zeeb nodded, his face contorted. “Well fuck.”
Zeeb looked down, and kicked a clump of dirt with his boot. “I’ve stayed at his cabin a couple nights because he asked me to. Just talkin’. No funny business.” He wasn’t about to mention where he’d slept.
“Did I say that? No, I did not.” Butch turned to face him. “But I find it kinda curious that you’d come out with that.” He studied Zeeb’s face in silence, and Zeeb caught his breath.
How much do you see?
Butch was no dummy.
“You know,” Butch said finally, “You ain’t got to say nothin’ if you don’t want to.” He inclined his head toward the bunkhouse. “But just so you know, the boys’ve been yappin’. Not in a mean way. Just curious.” His eyes gleamed. “Like me.”
Zeeb’s jaw flexed. “I ain’t done nothin’ wrong.”
Butch frowned. “I never said you did.”
Zeeb couldn’t rein it in a moment longer. “Nate’s a good guy,” he blurted. “He’s been through enough bullshit for three lives. There’s no way I’d try to mess with that.”
Butch gave a little grunt. “Didn’t figure you would. You’ve always been careful about people’s hearts. Even when you don’t know you’re doin’ it.”
Bailey whinnied, a soft sound but loud enough to pierce the quiet.
Butch smiled. “You’re not gonna shock me, y’know. Most of us have had you figured out for a while now.”
With an opening like that, there seemed little point in hiding anymore.
And about time I said the words out to someone I know has my back.
“Back when I was sixteen, I kissed a boy.”
“And you liked it?” Butch quipped.
He chuckled. “Yeah, you can say that. I thought it was curiosity at the time, but I know now that was me lying to myself. That was all we did, though—kiss. Then my world went belly up. My dad found out, I left home… The rest is history. After that, I just dated girls.” He shrugged.
“Never really felt like talkin’ about it.
” He bit back a smile. “Although it has been fun, keepin’ everyone guessing. ”
Butch cackled. “Dude, I hate to burst your bubble, but we passed guessing about eight years ago.” He leaned against the rail, his gaze on the bunkhouse. “You like Nate, don’tcha?”
“Doesn’t matter if I do or I don’t. He’s been through actual hell. I ain’t about to be the guy who confuses him more.”
Butch nodded again, only this time there was a kind of gravity to it.
“That’s fair. And it’s kind. But don’t assume you know what he can handle.
Like I said a few days ago, he’s not a kid.
He came here to heal, not to be protected like glass.
If he wants your company, and it helps him, maybe there’s nothing wrong with sittin’ on a porch together and talkin’.
Even if some dumbass ranch hands can’t keep their thoughts to themselves.
” He pierced Zeeb with an intense gaze. “And you don’t owe anyone an explanation.
” Butch returned his attention to the paddock.
Zeeb sighed. “When you and Sol got together, and you told everyone you were bi… Did you ever worry what folks would say?”
Butch chuckled. “All the time at first. And that didn’t stop just ’cause I got comfortable with myself. But I got tired of lettin’ fear be the loudest voice in my head. I figured, if I was gonna bust my ass sunup to sundown out here, at least I’d earned the right to be honest.”
Zeeb chewed on that for a while.
“If you two aren’t hungry, that’s more for the rest of us,” Matt hollered from the bunkhouse door.
Butch cackled. “In your dreams, wise-ass.” He dug his elbow into Zeeb’s ribs. “Come on. Matt’s baked bread this morning. We’d better get in there before Walt inhales it all.”
Zeeb guessed his shower could wait until after breakfast.
Butch cupped his hands around his mouth. “Paul. Food’s up.”
“I’ll be right there, once I put Bailey back in the stable.”
They crunched their way across the gravel to the bunkhouse, and as soon as Zeeb stepped inside, he got a whiff of familiar odors: sweat, leather, bacon, and coffee.
“Well, well, if it ain’t Loverboy himself,” Walt drawled. “You plannin’ on movin’ into that guest cabin full-time, Zeeb, or just part-time with benefits?”
Laughter rippled around the room.
Zeeb didn’t even blink. “Jealous, Walt? I get why. Ain’t like the horses ever call you back.”
Teague cackled. “He got you that time, Walt.”
Walt held his hands up in mock surrender, grinning.
“Damn, all right. I walked into that one.” He leaned back in his chair, his hands laced across his stomach.
“But I gotta say, Zeeb, you’ve been awful cozy with that Nate fella.
Not that we’re judging. He is awful pretty.
But hey, if you’ve finally decided to stop pretending you’re only into women, we support your spiritual journey. ”
Zeeb rolled his eyes. “Y’all need hobbies.” Walt’s comment about Nate being pretty was like a needle piercing his flesh, however, and he had to put a brake on his mouth before he blurted something he might regret later.
“We have hobbies. Making your life hell is one of ’em.” Teague crossed his arms over his chest. “But seriously…” His teasing tone eased into something softer. “You doin’ okay?”
The room went quiet for a beat, and the only sounds were the creak of chairs and the whir of the ceiling fan.
Zeeb looked around at them, roughneck sons of bitches the lot of them, all sharp mouths and calloused hands, and for a second he saw what Butch meant. In their own twisted, noise-making way, they were giving him the space to be real.
He sighed. “Yeah. I’m okay. It’s nothin’ y’all gotta worry about. Nate’s a good guy. And I ain’t tryin’ to screw him up.”
Walt sat up, all trace of humor fled. “You’re not. You wouldn’t. We know that.” He cocked his head. “But we are right, aren’t we? You’ve got a seat on both sides of the church, haven’t you?” His eyes glittered. “Along with me an’ Butch.”
Zeeb chuckled. “Well if you must pry…” He took his hat off and hung it on a hook.
“Fine. I’m bi. Are ya happy now? We got that outta the way so we can get on with the important shit?
” He glanced at Dave and Wes, the two guests.
“Sorry, fellas, for disturbing your breakfast with an exposé of my sexual preferences, but this bunch has got fuck all else to yak about.”
Dave waved a hand. “Don’t mind us. We’re just enjoying the show. And it’s no skin off my nose who you choose to sleep with.”
“Anyone gives you shit, they’re gonna have to deal with all of us.” Teague set his jaw.
“Even me,” Butch added. “And I’ve been lookin’ for an excuse to punch somebody in town.”
More laughter followed, but this time it was warm, not barbed.
Zeeb swallowed, aware of a lump in his throat. “Thanks, boys. Really.”
Walt grinned. “Just don’t make it weird by buying yourself a guitar and taking up playin’ love songs on it.”
Zeeb cackled. “Too late. Got a whole setlist. Gonna start with “I Wanna Dance With Somebody” and work my way to “Careless Whisper”.”
“Jesus,” Teague groaned. “I’ve changed my mind. Go back in the closet.”
Zeeb laughed, and a moment later the rest of them joined in.
Matt came from the kitchen, his arm full. “Who’s hungry?” A second later, the door opened and Nate entered, sniffing.
“I’m not too late, am I?”
Zeeb snickered. “Another minute, and the only thing left would have been coffee dregs.” The laughter might have passed, but what lingered was something better. Acceptance, sure, but also brotherhood, the kind that ran deep and wordless.
The kind a guy could trust.