“Are you coming to bed or what?” he asked. “I’m wiped.”
I bit back a laugh, turned the lights off and got into bed too.
There might be several pillows between us, but I could feel his presence all the way to my bones. And it made me feel a little better. A little less sick. A little more comfortable.
A little less lonely.
FOURTEEN
ZACH
Mild or not, Dare’s pneumonia knocked him out for the rest of the week. A fact that frustrated him but try as he might I wouldn’t let him go out in his state to tend to his crops.
“If you don’t look after yourself then there will be no one to look after the crops. I’m sure that’s not what you want,” I kept telling him, though I wasn’t so sure he agreed with my sentiment.
Why are all grown men boneheaded?
So many of the men I’d known, met, or been with in my life were just…stubborn. They didn’t give a rat’s ass about their health, physical or mental, and always needed an extra hard kick in the behind to get them interested in their survival.
One would think gay guys would be immune to the toxic masculinity that made us think that kind of self-care wasn’t important, but apparently a lot of us didn’t get the memo.
Because let’s be honest. If the same thing were to happen to me I’d be acting the same way. I’d be eager to get back to my truck and serve my loyal customers, or I could wave goodbye to themoney I needed to pay my rent, business loan and pretty much any other bill in my life.
“As if it matters,” I mumbled.
Here I was, away from my home, without a business, or anything to do all day, losing money by the hour without a clue what I was doing or where I was going anymore.
And since there was nothing else to take out my frustration on, I punched. I punched the dough on the counter again and again until it deflated and was ready for the bread tin.
I popped it in the pre-heated oven and got started on a pumpkin spiced carrot cake and cheesecake muffins. But after those were done, that was it. No more cakes. I pinky promised to myself and the animals. To the goats who were circling my legs causing a trip hazard every time I turned, and to Lookah who was supervising us all from his bed in the kitchen.
I’d gotten good at controlling myself. I had to. There was only so much crap I could send away to people before I depleted all of Dare’s pantry and money. Thankfully while he’d been on bedrest these last few days, I’d managed to fill up the cupboards and the fridge using my own funds, even if I’d had to ask Warren to do the shopping for us.
It was hard to believe it had been two weeks since Dare took me in. Two weeks! And yet it still felt like a dream. A wonderful, beautiful dream, but a never-ending one too.
I felt stagnant here. Like I’d hit the pause button in my life while everyone else’s still continued as normal. Any day now I knew I’d wake up and find out it was all nothing but a mirage. Something my mind had created to keep me safe from the shitshow that was my life.
“Get a grip, Zach,” I muttered under my breath.
I knew I was being ungrateful. I knew it was wrong to think like that, especially when Dare was the sweetest, kindest man alive who’d let me into his house and allowed me all the liberties. But even that was choking me. Being around him, with him, breathing the same air as him and not being able to do anything about it. It was torture. Sweet torture maybe, but torture no less.
I stood over the bowls on the kitchen island with my eyes shut and my hands gripping at the edge of the counter while I steadied and grounded myself.
It will be fine. It will all be fine. Soon things will be fine.
I repeated my silly mantra over and over again in my head hoping one day I’d wake up and believe it.
Today was not that day, but it didn’t mean I’d stop trying.
As I distributed the batter into molds a sharp knock made me jump. My gaze darted toward the front door, dread washing me all over in an instant.
Before I could respond—or breathe again—there was another knock. It sounded even rougher than the first and made my feet sink into the floor. Lookah jumped up and lunged at the door, barking his head off. The goats bleated in sheer panic.
He’d found me. Victor had found me.
I knew the day would come but I had hoped it wouldn’t be here. Not at Dare’s. Not in his home. Preferably nowhere near this island that had been my home for the past year, but at the very least not here.
My heart pumped so hard, I felt light-headed. I chewed the inside of my lips, my cheeks, my tongue. Anything to keep the all-consuming fear at bay.
