“We’d known each other forever,” Bede said. “Winston was always by my side. Alwaysonmy side. He made me laugh, like you do. And yes, he was a criminal, like me.”
“And now he’s gone.” Galen’s hand became still on Bede’s chest, the palm warm, fingers spread out as if to catch Bede’s heartbeat.
“He died,” said Bede, short. “There was a shootout the day I got arrested. A bullet from the other gang got him and he bled out before the ambulance arrived.”
Bede left out the part about the incompetent, unwilling cop, and that he blamed him and that the only reason that cop wasn’t dead already was that a gang member had shot the gun that killed Winston. He held all of that back. There was too much rage in the idea of this to unleash it on the gentle-hearted Galen.
“His name was in your file. Winston Ludlow.” Another soft breath as Galen lifted his chin to look up at Bede. “I knew he was on your team, but I didn’t realize he was your partner. There was no mention of it.” After a pause, Galen bent his head and kissed the soft curve of Bede’s chest, an acknowledgement, a blessing that he knew would never be enough. “I’m so sorry.”
“I’ve had five years to get over it,” said Bede, attempting to shrug it off, only managing a half-hearted twitch of one shoulder. “Though I don’t suppose I ever will.”
“Sometimes you never do,” said Galen, sounding wise. He reached up to loop his arm around Bede’s neck to pull himself up so his head rested on the pillow next to Bede.
Bede turned on his side so he could look at Galen, and absorb the lines of his beautiful angular face. Those silvery gray eyes that seemed to search for answers to questions he didn’t even know how to ask.
“I’ve not gotten over my dad dying. Don’t suppose I ever will.”
“When was that?” asked Bede, reveling in this new information.
“Last summer,” said Galen with a hard, little swallow. “Spring and summer. Cancer took him fast, so it was mercifully quick, though I didn’t think that at the time. Only that I wanted one minute more. Just another second. Anything. He died in hospice. They took good care of him and me, both. Now I’ve got the family farm, and have no idea what to do with it.”
“Tell me.” Bede, his heart speeding up a bit at the idea that he and Galen trusted each other not just to bare their skins, but their souls.
With a hard-drawn breath, Galen began to speak. He talked about the farm and the current tenants. About lavender and goats and bees. About how he’d sat at the kitchen table all of last winter and stared at the snow, overwhelmed by the decisions needing to be made. About everything, fast and urgent, as if he’d never talked to anybody about any of this up to that moment.
“I didn’t want to do this program,” said Galen, a bit rueful, his mouth curving into a smile. “As you probably guessed. But I owed Leland because he held my job for me while I took care of my dad. He offered me a loan, as well, to keep the farm going, but I turned that down because then I’d owe him even more. But he’s a great guy. Seriously. If not for him, I’d still be up at the guest ranch, I guess. Shoveling shit. Taking care of guests.”
“Is it better here?” asked Bede.
It didn’t matter the answer. He just had a sense that, like Winston, Galen needed someone to flip the switch open so he could get it all out. Then, unburdened, he could better figure out what he needed to do. Bede was more than happy to be that guy.
“It is and it isn’t.” Galen rolled onto his back.
Bede rolled too, propping himself up on one elbow, his hand on the flat of Galen’s belly, pushing the sheet down a little way, creating a curve like a white wave against his skin. And waited patiently while Galen seemed to prepare himself that Bede wouldn’t like what he had to say.
“It’s good money, and the work is interesting. You guys are interesting, that’s for sure.” Galen laughed, full throated, his eyes sparkling as he looked at Bede. “I will say this. Not all ex-cons are alike.”
“Did you think we were?” asked Bede.
“I did.”
“How?”
Galen seemed a little reluctant to answer, so Bede peppered his mouth with small kisses, then laid his head on the pillow next to Galen’s, his arm looped over the top of Galen’s head, fingers again in Galen’s silky hair.
“That you were just dumb. All of you.” Galen shook his head, then cozied himself into the curl of Bede’s arm, his body. “Weak willed. And not very interesting. I’ve learned none of that is true, though I still don’t get how someone could live a life of crime.” With a shrug, he flailed his free hand as if to say,There’s nothing you can tell me that would change it.
“Yeah.” Bede let out a long-drawn breath. “I get that. Before I went into Wyoming Correctional, I thought there were two types of criminals. The ones you could trust and the ones you couldn’t.”
“And now you know.”
“Yes, now I know. There’s as many kinds of criminals as there are people.” Bede laughed a low laugh, then kissed the plane of Galen’s cheek. “Look at how much we’ve both learned! Gold stars all around.”
Galen laughed in response, then shifted to turn into Bede’s body, a curve of warmth to match Bede’s own.
Bede’s arms came down to circle around Galen’s shoulders to draw him close. His blood raced at the added closeness, groin tightening, the back of his neck getting hot.
“Are you good for another round?” he asked, leaning in to nip at Galen’s ear.
