Griffin and I weren't all that close, but I felt a kinship with him sometimes. I couldn't exactly tell you what it was that made it feel like he understood me better than most people. Some would have said it was his therapy skills. The man was trained to help people through things. At the same time, it wasn't his sole career and since he hadn't used it in so long, he was probably rusty.
Those were all the lies I told myself to convince my mind he wasn't playing doctor every time we were together.
"Well, I for one am glad to see him here taking a break. The man works far too hard. Anytime I've run into him in town, he's been harried-looking and those bags under his eyes are very pronounced."
"They are," I agreed. "I really hope his time here will give him some rest. Maybe even build some new habits for him so he doesn't get overworked again."
Griffin hummed. "Yeah, that would be ideal. You know, when someone's a workaholic, it's hard to get them to slow down. Typically they need someone to guide them—to, for lack of a better phrase, hold their hand through it."
I could tell what he was hinting at. He basically had a flashing neon sign above his head telling me to just be his Daddy. Not his, of course. I meant Tanner's. Griffin was a Daddy in his own right.
Seeing him with Harlan was interesting the first time. I tried not to be a person who judged a book by its cover, but from my experience, the two of them were not your typical couple. Then again, what was typical? A lot of my mind had changed the longer I spent time here at the ranch and grew closer to everyone.
"Well, I'm gonna get back to it," Griffin said after another silent moment. "Wish you well. Hope you figure out whatever's got you all strong and silent type on us."
I rolled my eyes. "I'm not a big talker most days. Nothing has changed in that department."
He shook his head and started to walk away but turned around to face me as he did so. "You say that, but you've been talking a whole lot with Tanner around."
His laughter echoed around me as he turned and jogged away.
I kept on moving, not wanting to be in the cold any longer. It wasn't a reprieve for me like it usually was. I didn't feel the comfort of the isolation. What had once been a mode for me to deal with my grief was now empty—and all because a sweet boy wasn't by my side. Wasn't tucked under my arm or holding onto my hand.
How had being with him changed me so much already? How does one become so used to someone they barely even know?
Except I did know Tanner. I knew more about him than I'd even realized before now. All the little details I'd taken upon myself to learn that I tucked away in the recesses of my mind—they were all pushing forward, demanding that I take care of the sweet boy.
Work became automatic for me. I did what needed to be done—hauling hay and feeding animals. I checked on the different machines we had running. Did some maintenance to ensure things that could be prevented would be, and anything elsewould be an easy fix. There was nothing like winter coming and suddenly all your mechanical problems arise at once. Best to be ahead of the game.
By the time I finished, the sun had dipped below the ridge in the distance. The grounds were illuminated with light. They would shut off later once everyone was asleep, but for now they would be a guide back to the main house for dinner.
A glance at my watch told me that I was actually running late. I'd been so deep in my work I'd lost track of time.
When I went inside, most of the men were on their way out. They clapped me on the back and poked fun at my harried look. I ignored them all in favor of finding the one person I wanted to see.
As I scanned the gathered faces, I couldn't find Tanner anywhere.
At the kitchen counter, Harlan tilted his head and looked at me. "They're in the living room," he said before going back to cleaning up the kitchen.
I drifted down the hall, steps quiet, not wanting to interrupt whatever they had going on. When I reached the doorway, the first thing I noticed was how much joy there seemed to be in the space. People were laughing and bouncing around—everyone except for one person.
My sweet Tanner was curled up in one of the chairs, his weighted blanket over him as his eyes moved around the room, taking it in. He wore a gentle smile—just enough to show he was happy, but not beaming like I wanted him to be.
He wasn't, at least, until his eyes turned and saw me.
He sat up straight and the blanket fell, revealing he was back in my shirt—the one that I distinctly remembered putting in the laundry that morning.
I smiled back at him, crossing through the room of people, careful to dodge their bodies as I dropped to a squat in front of him.
"Simon," he breathed my name as if it were the one thing to sustain him.
My hand cupped his cheek, and I stroked the soft skin there. "Hey, bud," I said, voice heavy with the emotion clogging my throat.
I'd missed him. Fuck, I'd missed him so much.
He leaned into my touch, closing his eyes. If anyone had interrupted the moment between us, I would have probably lost my cool. Thankfully they all kept on with whatever they were doing. I still wasn't sure what. I didn't much care either, because the boy in front of me was holding all my attention. He had held it for a while now, I'd come to realize.
"Did you have a good day?" I asked him.
