Chapter29
Kell
Shivering in the sunlight, Kell was grateful for Marston’s arms around him as his tears subsided, drying in the faint breeze, vanishing as if they’d never been.
“I feel so messed up,” said Kell as he pulled away, scraping his eyes with the heel of his palm.
“Anyone would be,” said Marston. He’d let Kell go when he’d wanted to be let go, but he didn’t move far, instead lingered, watchful and close. “It’ll get easier, I think. And that phone call had to be the hardest part.”
“Yeah.”
It was easier now that the call was over. Now that she knew he was safe, but that he’d drawn a boundary around himself that she couldn’t cross. Maybe she would try. Maybe in a little while he wouldn’t care so much, but right now he needed to feel as though he controlled when and how he talked to her. Right now, all he needed was another hug from Marston, which he got, a bear hug, close and swift and strong and sure.
“Should we get back to work?” he asked, tipping his head back to look at Marston. “I feel like we should.”
“You got it,” said Marston. “C’mon, get in the truck and we’ll head back down.”
Heading down the switchbacks felt slow and careful, but maybe that was because of Marston’s glances his way, as if Marston was checking in on him, making sure he was okay.
With his window rolled down, the pine-scented breeze in his lungs, Kell did feel better. He was okay. He didn’t know what the end of summer would bring, but if he could deal with his mom, he could deal with that.
Once in the parking lot, Marston parked the truck and the two of them headed to the pavilion, only to find it empty, and the two posthole diggers not in their usual place. When he looked at Marston, Kell knew that Marston, too, expected that Duane, Tyson, and Wayne would have been lollygagging, waiting for orders, and yet it seemed they were hard at work.
Kell put his phone on the table, along with Marston’s phone, grabbed his gloves and his hat, and together they headed to the last place they’d been digging holes, along the willow path on the other side of the river.
Sure enough, a trio of men were hard at it, sweat glistening on their necks, a hard flush to their faces as Duane and Tyson dug holes and Wayne busied himself by shoveling half of the leftover dirt in a wheelbarrow to be carted away. The other half of the dirt would be used to fill the holes halfway up, stabilizing the signposts so concrete could be poured in.
Marston and Kell joined in, tugging on their gloves, each pairing off to help handle one of the posthole diggers. Each hole took about half an hour, so they were able to finish half a dozen before it was time to quit for dinner.
After they took their tools back to the pavilion and washed up, they got in the buffet line, and Kell felt as though he’d been pummeled all over. But he felt good, too. He’d kept up with men who were stronger than him, and he’d talked to his mom, and Marston’s small smiles in his direction were just the topper.
Dinner was fried chicken and cornbread, with slaw and mashed potatoes and green beans, and Kell inhaled everything, including drinking two full glasses of milk.
“I could fall asleep right here,” he said to Marston as he patted his belly.
“There’s chocolate cake,” said Marston. “But maybe we could get a couple slices to go.”
To go? Kell’s mind spun around the idea of it, and why they would do that when they could just eat dessert right away, rather than saving it. Then he saw the look in Marston’s eyes, the blue-gold glow there, the flush to his cheeks.
He sat up straight when he figured it out. Then, as casually as he could, as if his heart hadn’t started to race, he said, “I guess I could use a shower to cool off first.” Blinking Marston a kiss with his eyes, he added, “Maybe you’d like to join me.”
From the other side of the table, Duane rolled his eyes, wiped his mouth with his napkin, and said, “Get a room, you two.” But quietly, so only Kell and Marston could hear. Except Tyson heard him, and sniggered under his breath and got up as he said, “I’ll get us some cake.”
And that was the extent of it. Nobody seemed to mind that Marston got the cooks to wrap up two large pieces of chocolate cake to be left in the small service fridge.
And nobody minded when Kell and Marston went their separate ways, following the paths to their respective tents. And nobody saw when the two of them met at the entryway to the showers, each with a towel rolled up and tucked beneath their arms. Each with a shower kit. Stopping for a kiss, fond and slow and sweet.
“I know to go slow this time,” said Marston, sounding a little breathless, worry in his eyes.
“I’m not a virgin anymore,” said Kell, then he added. “At least not mostly.”
“You deserve to be treated as carefully as if you were made of bone china.”
Marston sounded absolutely serious about this, and Kell knew he didn’t mind. He knew what bone china was, and though he might be otherwise irritated having someone think he was that delicate, he knew that for Marston, it was his way of making up to Kell what he considered a grave mistake. There didn’t seem any way to convince him otherwise, so Kell took a nice, slow breath and prepared himself to receive what Marston wanted to give him.
Which turned out to be a slow disrobing of Kell, just Kell, in the stall furthest from the main door. A sigh of appreciation with each garment Marston opened and removed. A small laugh as he bent to untie the boots on Kell’s feet, small kisses to his belly before Marston helped him slip out of his boxers and blue jeans.
“Now you,” said Kell, ready to insist on it, if he had to, in case Marston had some idea that all of this was supposed to be one sided, with Marston giving and Kell taking. Even as inexperienced as he was, he knew it shouldn’t be like that.
