“Gabe.”
Gabe looked at him fully now, his hands clasped gently between his knees, his shoulders rolled forward, his eyes moving to the lake and then back to Blaze again.
“All day,” said Gabe.
The pause after those words went on long enough that Blaze thought to touch Gabe’s knee, to get his attention then, but he didn’t need to, as Gabe took a breath. Licked his lips. And seemed to try again.
“All day I’ve been thinking about it,” he said. “And my favorite part? Waking up this morning. Not alone.”
“But,” said Blaze, knowing there must be abutin there somewhere, though the idea of Gabe being so alone that waking up with someone like Blaze was his favorite part? Impossible. Unlikely. Outrageous.
“No buts,” said Gabe. He smiled to himself as he rubbed his jaw, then settled his hands on his knees again. “I don’t know what to do, but I know I liked it.” His body shifted until he was half turned, fully focused on Blaze. “This morning. Last night. You.”
“But—”
“I’ve been thinking,” said Gabe.
“I can see that,” said Blaze, feeling a smile on his face, a lift in his heart.
Now Gabe laughed, a low laugh, and he turned his gaze back to the lake.
“As you must be aware, we are where we are.” He gestured at the stunning sky, turning to pink, reflected in the lake, ruffled now to cats’ paws as the sun began to set. “I have a responsibility to you. To Wayne. To Leland. This place. I don’t want to mess that up, and I don’t think you’d want me to either.”
Blaze nodded slowly and made himself not hold his breath. And figured that Gabe hadn’t said as many words all at one time to another person, perhaps not in years.
“But,” said Gabe, now, pausing to laugh, his smile lighting his face, his eyes very blue as he once again looked at Blaze. “Nobody knows what the next morning will bring, but we have now. We have this summer. And if we can be cognizant—”
Gabe paused, looking at Blaze, and he nodded. He’d been studying for his GED. He knew what the word meant.
“And aware that we have responsibilities, to ourselves, and to the job we’ve agreed to do—”
“That you’re my boss—”
“That when we’reworking,” Gabe said, slowing down to emphasize the word. “During that time, I’m the team lead, directing the work. And when we’re not—” Gabe paused again, straightening up.
Blaze could see that yes, Gabe had been thinking about this all day, coming to his decision with slow, decided care. Care that Blaze didn’t think he was worthy of, but maybe it seemed like Gabe did.
“Then we can have sex in your tent,” said Blaze, smiling when Gabe barked a laugh in response. “Or maybe in the shower, if you prefer, and while I’ve never actually had a fantasy of having sex in the woods, I suppose I can be up for that as well.” He smiled, tucking his chin to his chest, wondering at his own bravery to admit what he was about to admit. “Or maybe sometimes, we can just, you know, be together. Like we were. When you lit the lantern. Being in that glow.”
He shook his head, his face flushing because who had time for such fanciful ideas? What guy was going to want to keep a Coleman lantern at the ready simply because Blaze was afraid of the dark?
“I have a large kerosene allowance,” said Gabe, smiling as though at his own attempt at humor. “And there’s a whole box of light sticks in the supply hut.”
As if those were the most important things, though, the way Gabe dipped his chin, in an echo of the way Blaze had done, and looked over at Blaze, almost shyly, told its own, quite different story. But where would that story take them? That was the question. But never mind, they had the summer, at least. Gabe had just said they had.
Gabe was waiting, and Blaze knew he was doing what he felt needed doing, which was waiting for a signal from Blaze. Because Gabe was the team lead and Blaze was the parolee, Gabe was giving, no,shoving, the power of choice, all of it, right into Blaze’s lap.
“Well,” said Blaze, straightening up, his hands on his thighs, feeling brighter than he had all day. “Like I said before, I could use a shower. And then.” He looked down as he stroked the inside of those thighs. “I have never ridden a horse, and my thighs feel like they’ve been pounded with a hammer, and just what am I going to do about that?”
“I can take care of that,” said Gabe, quite quietly, his voice low, leaning closer as if he meant to impart a secret. “Shower first, then salve. Which I can get from the first aid hut. Which I can put on you.” He paused. “If you like.”
The answer to that would never beno, thanks, but would always beyes, please.
Chapter24
Gabe
In the wooden shower stall farthest from the entrance, water sprayed over them both, rainwater style, a mist falling all around, a breeze at their ankles. Gabe had his hands in Blaze’s hair, using his own shampoo, letting his fingers linger in the dark strands.
