A Change of Pace

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of either the author or the publisher. A Change of Pace TOP SHELF An imprint of Torquere Press Publishers PO Box 2545 Round Rock, TX 78680

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Copyright O 2011 by JM Cartwright Cover illustration by Alessia Brio Published with permission ISBN: 978-1-61040-283-5 www.torquerepress.com All rights reserved, which includes the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever except as provided by the U.S. Copyright Law. For information address Torquere Press. Inc., PO Box 2545, Round Rock, TX 78680. First Torquere Press Printing: August 2011 Printed in the USA

A Change of Pace By JM Cartwright To Jase -- who made sure that Ridge had a real personality, not a split personality. Author's note: I have taken the liberty of giving a lake view to Chicago's City Hall. Well, I guess I took a few more liberties than that with Chicago politics. You'll see...

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Prologue

"Mr. Mayor! Mr. Mayor! What are you doing about the Sego contract? Was the bidding process subverted?" Those questions and more were shouted at the mayor from all sides. "Have you investigated your aide?" This last one was said very snidely. The reporters followed Charles Stratton as the mayor moved from the black Lincoln Town Car to the elevator at city hall. From his spot inside the mayor's office, watching the verbal assault live on television, the aide in question, Drew Cunningham, swore softly to himself. Those blood-sucking bottom-feeders make me want to puke. Although he did have to admit, the mayor was doing a nice job of ignoring the horde. The press corps were acting like the vultures they truly were, surrounding Chicago's mayor and bombarding him with vicious allegations disguised as questions, hoping to trip him into an admission of something -anything -- that they could feed on. The election campaign was heating up, and conservative Charles Stratton was not a favorite of the media. A businessman with a sterling reputation, Stratton had been elected, along with several other fiscally conservative candidates, after many officials throughout the state had been indicted for fraud and corruption almost four years before. Though he had served the people of Chicago well since taking office, the opposition was willing to do anything to unseat him. A conservative mayor in this town was unheard of and most certainly had to be ousted as quickly as possible, with whatever bloodthirsty, malicious character assassination was required to get the job done. The Chicago Way. And it seemed that today, Andrew Cunningham was the tool the opposition was going to use. Just then, Mayor Stratton strode into his office, slamming the door behind him. He stopped short as he spotted Drew standing in front of the television screen in the corner. Exhaling in disgust, Stratton stalked to his desk and slammed his leather portfolio down onto the glossy wood surface. "Where do they come up with this crap? Who gave them that information?" He dropped into his chair and spun around to face the large window. The view of Lake Michigan and the city's downtown was incredible, 3

Drew noted absently. "You and I both know that Sego deserved that contract." His words were soft. He was just as angry and was containing it. "Sego is the only company that can get the job done the right way, in the shortest time." The contract was to repair the seawall along Navy Pier, one of the biggest tourist attractions in the city. It was in danger of collapsing, due to the preference during previous administrations for deferring maintenance. Stratton stared at him, his eyes unwavering. "Yes, I know that. You made the right decision." The mayor got to his feet and placed his hands flat on the desk, facing Drew. "But I'm not sure that's going to matter now. The press need an issue to focus on to defeat me, and they've grabbed this one. Given what we've done for a living for the last twenty years and more, they're bound and determined to prove that we've played favorites with an old friend on this contract." Standing upright and moving to the window, he sighed deeply. Looking over his shoulder, brows arched sardonically, he gave Drew a knowing look. "It doesn't help things that you've never played the game with them." At Drew's automatic protest, he turned, holding up his hand. "I know -- I know! -- you don't have to tell me. I hate the political bullshit we have to go through just to get the job done. It just makes it easier if we don't tell the press to fuck off, in so many words." Drew knew the mayor was referring to occasions when Drew had lost his patience -- always in short supply -- and stalked away from interviews, leaving the reporters standing with their mikes held out, waiting for an answer that would never come. Drew, who had worked for ten years with Charles Stratton at Stratton Engineering and Design, was the mayor's top aide. He had been drafted to follow Stratton to the mayor's office, willing to do what was needed to help Stratton clean up city politics, to actually force the city to run as a business instead of a spendthrift organization with absolutely no oversight of the taxpayer's money. Drew and Stratton both held the belief that it was possible, not easy but possible, to solve the city's problems with the help of the right people and workable plans and strategies. They'd faced down the unions and special interest groups -- and a bureaucratic morass the likes of which they'd never 4

dreamed they'd find. Now it appeared that, despite all the long hours, the late-night brainstorming sessions, the seven-days-a-week working conditions, and the absolute absorption of their personal lives into their work, their efforts might be spiraling down the drain due to just the appearance of impropriety, and the distortions the press were creating. Drew knew two things without a doubt. First, Charles Stratton was not a pushover. Second, he had made his money the old-fashioned way: hard work, a lot of sweat and effort, and years devoted to building his business. Stratton had brought his work ethic to the mayor's office, and along with it a belief in the ultimate wisdom of an informed electorate. Right now, though, the people were hearing that he was running a crooked administration, just like the one that had preceded his. Drew couldn't allow that to continue. He knew what had to be done. He breathed in deeply. "Dad, I'm turning in my resignation." Chapter 1

We'll do our best, and caulk the rest. Ridge Huntington In the end, Charles Stratton had not had a choice. Reflecting on the whole debacle a month later, Drew steered his black Navigator eastbound on Interstate 40. He kept a close eye on overpasses and lay-bys, watching for state troopers. His habit of driving twenty miles over the highway speed limit could get expensive. Periodically, there were signs noting the boundaries of the national forest. "I've never seen so many fricking trees." He'd been talking to himself for the last few hundred miles. The Blue Ridge Mountains were pretty amazing; maybe not as imposing as the Rockies, but still impressive. Sighing, he watched a hawk head for one of the huge trees off to the right. Drew hadn't done any traveling to speak of since his father had been inaugurated and, before that, his time off had been spent at a condo he'd rented up in Lake Geneva, a couple hours north of Chicago. "So maybe I won't be living in a dump," he muttered sourly. Charles had been forced to accept Drew's resignation and swallow the 5

bitter pill of seeing him defamed as a corrupt man. The story had been a nine-days' wonder in the third-largest metro area in the country. Drew's name and face were well known by now, thanks to the twenty-four hour news cycle on cable television. He was the man who had awarded a three-hundredmillion dollar contract and almost brought down the administration that had sworn to uphold the law and clean house in Chicago. That was why he'd had to quit, Drew reminded himself, eyeballing the different types of vegetation his truck flew past. He couldn't jeopardize the re-election of Charles Stratton. There was too much important work still to be done. Giuliani had cleared the streets of New York of crime; Charles Stratton was well on his way to cleaning up the corruption in Chicago. The man needed another term in office. Drew was forced out to help ensure that happened. It might not have been fair, but it was the way things worked in politics. He consoled himself somewhat with the knowledge that his departure was in contrast to happenings in previous administrations. As was the accepted way in many political offices, someone took a bullet for the elected official and was just shuffled off to another job. No one ever really went away; the faces and names might change, but the malfeasance went on. Situation normal -- all fucked up. He hadn't been in the military, but he'd borrowed a phrase or two. SNAFU just fit sometimes. Now, cursing rawly at the fates that had conspired to bring him to this point, Drew punched the map button on the GPS, confirming the exit he was to take. His new life was waiting for him, he thought gloomily. He blew out a disgusted breath. Yippee. He didn't exactly see himself living in this smaller city. He needed the excitement and challenge of living in Chicago, fighting to succeed, whether it was with Stratton Engineering or the Stratton mayoral administration. How could this small city in the mountains of North Carolina hold any allure for him? Sure, he'd needed to get out of Chicago and stay out for a while. But he also needed to make a living while he was away. "Here's where Daddy jumps in." Okay, that was a little unfair. It was just that he'd been beyond asking his dad for help since college. Charles Stratton had a college friend who'd moved to the Blue Ridge 6

two decades before. Tony Lopez had founded a small development company back then to build affordable housing in western North Carolina. Charles had kept in touch with his old roommate, and when Drew had needed a job away from Chicago, the mayor had rung up his old friend. Drew recalled his last conversation with his father. "Are you kidding me? You want me to move to the back of beyond to build little houses?" His voice was scathing. The mayor had been resolute. "Drew, you and I both know that if this is going to work, you need to get out of the limelight. If you stay around here, it will never go away." Charles moved around his desk and sat back in his chair, sadness showing for a moment on his face. "Goddamn it, I don't want to do this any more than you do, Drew. Don't you know how painful this is for me and your mother?" "Yes." Drew's voice was low. "I resent the whole need to do this. I resent you throwing yourself under the bus to save my political ass." Charles thrust his fingers through his thick silver hair, his anger chasing away the sadness of moments before. "I knew I was going to have to give up a lot for this job, but goddamn it, I didn't think that meant giving up my son." He stood up and walked to stand in front of Drew, tipping his head back to look at the son who, at six feet one, topped him by a smidge. His voice was a little husky as he spoke. "I can't help remembering back when we found you, twenty-three years ago." Charles' eyes blinked determinedly, and Drew noticed they were suspiciously shiny. He swallowed to clear his own throat, looking away until his father spoke again. "If you want to have any hope for a normal life, Drew, you've got to get away from this city. Away from these reporters, away from this scandal... away from me," Charles finished hoarsely. "If they blast your personal life all over the front page, God knows what will happen." Drew swallowed hard, solemnly meeting his father's gaze, acknowledging the truth of that statement. "Okay, Dad. I'll go to North Carolina." Charles and Yvonne Stratton had become Drew's parents when he was fourteen, and he'd heard many takes on the story innumerable times since 7

then. Unable to have children of their own, the Strattons had made the decision to adopt. After two years in the approval process, they'd been waiting to meet with a social worker about babies when they'd heard the woman talking on the phone about one of her cases. The call concerned a ward of the state who had been badly beaten and couldn't be left with the other children at the institution where he was living. Drew still marveled that Charles and Yvonne hadn't hesitated to ask to meet him when they'd heard that. After a very slow and shaky start, Drew and the Strattons had decided to become a family. They'd gradually built a relationship that was now rocksolid. And there wasn't anything that Drew wouldn't do to help save his father. Even move to Nowhere, USA, and build rinky-dink houses, he thought with a grimace. Just ahead he saw the sign for the Asheville exits approaching. He watched for the one Tony had mentioned. When it came up, he exited the highway and headed toward the inn where he had a reservation. Once again, he checked the instructions Tony had emailed to him. Following the directions, twenty minutes later he turned his Navigator onto a leafy lane that led him back to a rambling, old, two-story farmhouse. The small sign in the center of the curving drive said "Huntington Place." Drew pulled his truck off to the side and got out, looking around as he shut the door. He did have to acknowledge that, so far, North Carolina in July was beautiful. He wasn't used to being surrounded by so many green things, and the flowers. He was kind of tempted to sneeze at all the fresh air. Although, that fresh air was certainly cooler than what he'd left at home. As he'd gotten onto Lake Shore Drive yesterday, it had been ninetyeight and humid as all get-out. His condo back home was on the lakefront, with an incredible view of Lake Michigan, one that had cost him a pretty penny. Chicago's lakefront was world-class, and he'd loved having his own little piece of that view. But even he had to admit, looking around now at the lush vegetation and the classic architecture of the inn, that the rural beauty around him was almost beyond description. He moved to the back of the truck, opening the liftgate. "Come on, girl. 8

Let's go see where we're staying." An extremely large German shepherd stuck her head out, sniffing daintily before stepping to the edge and dropping lightly to the gravel drive. Drew shut the door, snapping on a leash just in case there were other dogs around. He headed for the front entrance, eyeing the long, deep veranda that surrounded what he could see of the inn. Dark wicker furniture was set around in groupings, inviting visitors to relax and unwind. As soon as he checked in, he planned to see about getting a beer and sitting out there. Isn't that what folks do out here in Deliverance Country? He was tired from driving. He'd gotten a late start yesterday, so he'd covered most of the seven hundred miles today. Even though he'd been sitting most of the day, he wanted to put his feet up, sip on something cold, and simmer some more over his changed circumstances. Music came softly through the open windows of the inn. Drew frowned as he listened. Was that Forties music? Huh? Was this place run by the bluehairs? Snorting to himself, he shrugged. It should be quiet here, then, and he was going to stay just until he found a place to live anyway. He could put up with retro music until then. Grabbing his leather laptop bag, he headed for the stairs. The inn was a sprawling wood and masonry structure, and his engineer's eye noted the rough-edged limestone cladding at the first floor and the cedar shake siding on the upper level. The building looked to be about fifty to sixty years old, and the long-ago architect had certainly done a great job matching both the style of the building and the rustic stone and cedar with the feel of the forested land around it. Drew walked inside the elegant lobby, his eyes on the extensive woodwork. He'd renovated his vintage condo back in Chicago and had spent a great deal of time on the woodwork in the unit, bringing it painstakingly back to life. Despite the profound irritation he was feeling at his current life circumstances, Drew could still appreciate the amount of work that had gone into the rooms around him. Looking past the lobby into a dining room, then in the other direction, he spotted a sunroom that opened off the reception area, the polished 9

woodwork gleaming. Everywhere he looked, he found more evidence of an expert's tender touch. Suddenly, Elsa's head came up with a snap, and she looked toward the rear of the house. Drew's eyes followed hers, widening when he spotted a shepherd every bit as large as Elsa coming toward them. The dog's ears were up and the long tail was wagging, Drew was glad to see. The male walked up to Elsa, and the two dogs sniffed and whined and barked at each other, moving around and generally tangling Elsa's leash. He had his hand down to introduce himself to the new dog when he heard steps coming toward them. He raised his head to see a young woman hurrying forward, an apologetic look on her pretty face. She was flushed, her blonde hair in a ponytail and her cotton, short-sleeved shirt and jeans dusted with flour. "Oh, I'm so sorry about Henry. He has the run of the house." She grabbed Henry's collar, trying to pull him away from Elsa. Drew smiled slightly, still watching the two dogs to make sure they weren't going to have a rodeo. "So far, so good." Squatting down next to Henry, he rubbed the large head. "He's gorgeous. How old is he?" Drew looked up as he spoke. With a huffed breath, the young woman gave up trying to pull the huge dog when he obviously had no intention of moving. "I think he's about two?" She lifted a shoulder uncertainly. "He belongs to my brother. I'm glad to see that he and your dog are getting along," she said with relief, holding out her hand. "I'm Rae Huntington. Are you Mr. Cunningham?" At Drew's nod, she moved behind the carved wood counter and clicked the computer mouse to activate her monitor. "Welcome to Huntington Place." She smiled at him as she clicked away. "We normally don't allow other dogs, but since you're a guest of Mr. Lopez, we're happy to accommodate you. You won't have to worry about any other dogs here." She paused to look up. "Do you mind giving me your driver's license and your cell phone number for our records?" Drew noticed Rae discreetly eying him as she entered his data into the computer. He'd had many a woman give him that kind of glance, especially while he'd worked as chief of staff to his father. Drew met Rae's eyes, lips tilting, then leaned an elbow on the wood counter as he gazed out the 10

window at the North Carolina afternoon. Not my cup of tea, honey. He heard a slight sigh from the innkeeper. "Okay, let's get you settled." Moving out from behind the counter, Rae grabbed a key from the rack and headed for the stairs. "Will you follow me, please?" Chapter 2

An erection is like the theory of relativity. The more you think about it, the harder it gets. Drew Cunningham Early the following morning, Drew headed downstairs with Elsa close behind him. He'd showered and dressed in jeans, a black T-shirt, and scuffed leather Roper boots. Yesterday when he'd arrived, he'd spotted a walking trail. It had been too dark to explore it when he walked Elsa before turning in. The trail led from the gardens in the rear of the inn toward the creek he'd passed driving in yesterday. As he walked toward it, he noticed a separate building about three hundred feet from the main building. It was of the same era, he decided -maybe a workshop or equipment shed. He spotted a door near the corner with a shade pulled down over the half-glass. Just as Elsa walked up to it, the door opened and a man stepped out, wearing jeans and a pair of moccasins. The young man frowned as he looked down at Elsa, then looked behind himself and spoke in a soft southern drawl. "So that's why you're whining, big guy." A large nose poked out the door behind him, followed by the rest of Henry's body. Drew stared at the stranger, riveted by the sight of a mostly smooth, muscled chest with one nipple pierced by a silver ring, about a half-inch in diameter. The tanned skin rippled in the sunlight as the man reached down to pet Elsa, pushing Henry's head out of the way as he did so. He tilted his shaggy blond head at an angle, jerking upright in surprise when he noticed Drew. The newcomer's whiskey-colored eyes widened as he stared at Drew. "Uh, sorry. I didn't see you." He ran a hand through his hair, smoothing it 11

back self-consciously. Drew licked his suddenly dry lips, swallowing before answering. What the hell? He shook his head to clear it. "Not a problem." He coughed to clear his throat. "I'm sorry if we startled you. I was, uh, heading for that trail, over there..." He gestured vaguely past the other man, trying not to stare at the long legs encased in the well-worn jeans. "I think it leads down to the creek, doesn't it?" Fingers rubbing a whiskered jaw, the other man nodded slowly. The stranger looked to be around thirty. Tousled, wavy blond hair hung to collar length and caught the light, gleaming golden in the morning sun. "Are you... are you staying with Rae? She didn't tell me we had new guests." His pattern of speech was slow and easy. Drew nodded. "I got here yesterday evening, just before dark." He stepped forward to introduce himself, holding out his hand. "Drew Cunningham." His hand was taken in a warm grip, the shake firm. "Ridge Huntington." Appearing uncertain, Ridge looked down at the dogs again. "It looks like our dogs have met before. They're not trying to tear each other apart." In fact, the exact opposite was going on. Elsa and Henry were clearly in love, rubbing against each other, nipping and playing and whining. Ridge straightened suddenly, a look of apprehension on his face as he stared up at Drew. "Is she spayed? I'm not really ready to be a daddy." Drew grinned slightly, amused at the thought. He stared at Ridge, who looked to be maybe an inch shorter. "Yeah, I'm with you there. I had her fixed as soon as she hit six months. She's a year and a half now." He nodded at the other dog, who had his jaw opened and was holding Elsa by the neck. "Is he about two?" Ridge watched the affection between the two animals. "Yeah, good guess. He'll be two next month." He shoved his hands in his front pockets, hunching his shoulders a little. "So what brings you to Asheville?" Drew could feel his facial muscles tighten as his lips went flat. "It was a... family problem." "Oh, okay." Ridge looked as though he could tell he'd hit a sore spot. Seeing that he'd stumped the other man, Drew frowned before relenting a bit. "Uh... I just... transferred here from... Chicago." He looked over at the 12

trees near the inn before shifting his gaze back to Ridge, his eyes going unerringly to the nipple ring again. Ridge digested that comment in silence. "Well, do you want--" "Does your family--" They both spoke at the same time, then laughed awkwardly. Ridge nodded. "You go ahead." Tearing his eyes away from that pierced nipple, Drew focused. "Uh, does your family own this place?" Ridge cleared his throat. "My sister and I own the business. She runs the place, though." He gestured toward the door he'd left open. "I run a custom cabinet and trim carpentry shop out of here." He turned back to face Drew. "Did you want me to show you where the creek is?" Ridge's voice sounded a little tight, and Drew's gaze honed in, spotting a faint blush appearing on the golden skin across the younger man's cheeks. Whoa. Was he just scoping out my junk? Caught, Ridge sucked in a breath, and Drew's eyes followed the movement of his bare chest. Now it was Drew's turn to flush when he saw that Ridge was watching him. "Yeah, that would be great." He looked down at the dogs, hoping to appear intelligent. "Looks like Henry's going to join us no matter what." The two shepherds were glued together, jumping and playing. Taking another deep breath, Ridge moved away. "Just let me get my shoes on." He stepped inside for a moment, leaving the door ajar. Drew watched as he slid into a pair of deck shoes. Coming back out, he pulled the door shut and waved a hand to Drew to follow as he started down the path. Drew's eyes were fixed on the sleekly muscled ass of the man in front of him. He shook his head briefly to clear it. Better knock it off. That mental admonishment couldn't budge his attention away from the fine, fine ass, though. He watched it move as his eyes traveled up the muscles of that smooth, bare back. He wanted to reach out and touch. That was a bad thought to have running through his head. He was supposed to be here to get out of trouble, not get into it. His body didn't seem to care, though. It saw what it wanted directly in front of him. He followed Ridge, instincts humming. Gimme some of that. 13

After about a quarter mile, the trail wound down through the woods to the creek. Drew headed around a huge old tree, and suddenly the water was in front of him. The dogs had run ahead and were contentedly splashing in the shallows when the two men caught up with them. Drew breathed in deeply, taking in the scents of summer all around him. The July morning was bright and beautiful, with the sun's rays sifting through the forest canopy. The creek was fairly narrow, but just below them it widened into a pool that looked good for swimming. And once again, he'd never seen so many trees. He shrugged a little moodily to himself, forced to admit it perhaps wasn't so bad after all. Hey, maybe I can learn to fish. He thought about that for a moment, then snorted softly to himself. Nuh-uh. Not in this lifetime. *** Ridge was watching Drew. He noted the slight easing of tension in the broad shoulders as the big Yankee breathed slowly in and out. He was fascinated with the newcomer. Ridge didn't normally interact that much with the guests, since he was usually working at either the cabinetry business or his occasional jobs as a trim carpenter. His time at the inn was normally spent on the occasional room repair or upkeep on the mechanical systems. This guest, however, was demanding his full attention. His eyes went up and down the brawny body as Drew walked to the water's edge and crouched low to pick up a flat rock. The muscles in those fine legs and ass bulged and contracted as Drew bent, then stood again to spin the rock down the creek. Ridge stepped up slightly behind Drew, discreetly sniffing the man's scent, breathing it into his lungs. It was a little heady, being this close to such a stud. He hadn't met anybody this exciting in quite a while. Certainly none of the guys he worked with turned his crank. When he and his friends went out, he sometimes kept his eyes open for opportunities, but, truthfully, he hadn't been that interested. His best friend, Shelby, kept telling him he was too picky. Huh. If being picky meant waiting for somebody like this to show up... uh-huh. Disconcerted, he shook his head, whistling under his breath. It was a 14

little overwhelming. Drew picked up another rock, tossing it back and forth in his palms. He angled his head down and to the side to look over his shoulder. "Did that hurt?" "Huh?" Ridge caught the angle of Drew's gaze. It was focused on the silver ring in his nipple. "Oh. Um, it was years ago. I, uh, not really. I... was just a stupid kid." "Why do you still wear it, then? You must like it." Ridge stared at Drew, a little flustered at the directness of that statement. "Um." He crossed his arms over his chest to hide his nipples from Drew's view. He didn't want to admit that he liked it. Drew turned around. "Don't hide it from me." His voice was low. "Let me see." The command was clear. Ridge found himself obeying. He dropped his arms and pulled his shoulders back, bringing his chest forward. He watched as Drew moved closer, until their bodies were within touching distance. Drew raised one hand. The long fingers drifted over Ridge's lips, then charted a path down his jaw, where they rasped slightly against his morning stubble. They moved farther, touching the spot where his pulse was suddenly faster. Drew continued to explore, fingers moving down, tingles following in their wake as Ridge felt them touch the rise of muscle below his collarbone. The tips of those fingers brushed softly against the ring, pushing it back and forth. Ridge sucked in a breath, his chest heaving with it. His eyes were glued to Drew's, those turquoise orbs burning at him. Oh, yeah. His heart was pounding as his eyes jerked down to see Drew insert the tip of one little finger in the ring and tug at it. He uttered a low sound, and his head fell back on his neck, his eyes closing. *** Drew couldn't help himself; he had to touch. He reached up with his free hand and took hold of the other nipple, twisting it sensually, watching as Ridge succumbed to the feeling of those tiny nipples being tugged and twisted. Ridge's jeans were tight at the crotch, a bulge growing there. Drew felt powerful all of a sudden, in command. He wanted to kiss and 15

bite at those soft lips; he wanted to mark that beautiful neck with his teeth; most of all, he wanted to shove Ridge to the ground and command the other man to suck him off. He reached for the snap on those tight jeans. "Ridge!" The call came from up the hill. Drew jerked his hand back and looked beyond Ridge's head toward the path. Rae was standing above them, about seventy-five feet away, staring at them with a frown on her face. "Ridge, I've been looking for you." Her voice was jarring, breaking the thread holding the two men together. Ridge snapped his head upright and jumped back a step, staring aghast at Drew. He mumbled something and spun around, heading back up the trail toward his sister at an unsteady jog. Drew stared after him, his cock hard and his thoughts swirling. *** "What in the hell do you think you're doing?" Rae stared in disgust at Ridge. "He's a guest! And Tony sent him to us." Her voice was scathing. She surged ahead of him, her anger apparent. "Right now? If you threw yourself on the ground, you'd miss." Ridge kept his head down as he followed her. He was an idiot. He had no excuse, so he wasn't even going to try to offer one. He didn't know what had come over him down there, but something darn sure had. He'd been absolutely submissive, and it had been hotter than anything he'd felt in a while. He couldn't believe it now as he thought about it. Drew had ordered him to do something and he'd done it, as if they hadn't just met -- as if they were, in fact, well acquainted. Scary. Thrilling. Heated. Whoa. "Wake up." Rae stopped in front of him as they reached his shop, snapping her fingers in his face to get his attention. "I was pretty sure when I saw him last night that he wasn't interested in women, but I really didn't need you to remove any doubt." She pushed her hair behind her ear. "Tony was a good friend of Dad's. You know that." Ridge was stumped, his thoughts frozen. His sister snapped her fingers again. "Well? Do you have anything so say?" Ridge lifted his shoulders and slowly shook his head, wishing he knew what in the heck to say. "I... don't know what to say. He. I--" He stared at her for another moment. "I've got to go to work." He pushed open his shop door 16

and stepped inside, shutting the door quietly. Ridge stared at Rae through the glass for a moment, watching as she stood there, nonplussed. "This is so not good." His sister turned on her heel and headed up to the inn. *** Back at the creek, Drew stared up the hill, watching the two siblings walk away. His eyes stayed on the path for a while after the two of them disappeared, his thoughts tumbling around. He headed back up slowly, barely noticing the two dogs gamboling along. All the while, his mind was occupied with heated thoughts of Ridge and what he could do to the blond hottie. Until he stumbled over a tree root and almost did a face-plant into the dirt of the trail. It snapped his mind back in focus. Jesus! What are you doing? Wake the fuck up. You're supposed to be keeping a low profile. Hitting on someone as soon as he got to town was probably not low profile, he decided sourly. Drew hadn't had sex with anyone since before his father had become mayor. Kind of a long dry spell. Back before he'd moved onto the fifth floor of City Hall with his father, things had been different in his social life. He'd been able to have fun when he wanted without the press breathing down his neck. And he really wasn't that much of a social butterfly anyway. His idea of a good time was a beer and a burger at one of the less trendy restaurants in River North. He didn't trust easily and, other than Charles and Yvonne, didn't allow anyone close to him. Drew also didn't advertise his lifestyle -- not in the business he was in. The construction industry wasn't known for its openness, so he'd had good reason to keep quiet. Even more so in the last few years with his father's job; he couldn't afford to advertise it. The press, hypocrites that they were, would eat alive a conservative who was found to be a closet gay. His hand had been his best friend for a while. No point in changing that strategy now. He had a new life to establish, and it wasn't going to get done by panting after Ridge Huntington. Mentally slapping himself upside the head, Drew reminded himself of 17

his determination to focus on what he had to accomplish. The first task was finding a home for Bella -- and then one for himself. Blowing out a frustrated breath, he walked back to the inn. Eyes on the windows as he walked around the veranda up to the front entrance, he exhaled in relief at not seeing Ridge or Rae. He stopped in the lobby, hoping the high school kid he'd seen an hour ago was still on duty at the desk. The sunlit room was empty, but he could hear sounds from the kitchen, so he headed down the short hallway. Grimacing, he found Ridge's sister at a stainless-topped prep table, working on some pastry-thingy from what he could tell. The room smelled pleasantly of garlic, and he saw a large pot simmering on the commercial range. She looked up as he paused in the doorway, her brows raised. "What can I do for you?" Her voice was friendly. She was apparently going to ignore what she'd seen at the creek. Good. He didn't have to explain. Not that he could. What was he going to say, after all? I really want to nail your brother? "I just need some directions, if you don't mind." He kept his tone even. "I've got to head out to this barn, and I want to make sure I know where I'm going." He walked forward and showed Rae a piece of paper with an address written on it. Rae issued a sigh of her own, which might have been relief that they weren't going to discuss her brother. She nodded and pushed her pastry dough away. "Let me wash my hands and I'll write out some easy directions." Twenty minutes later, Drew and Elsa were on the road. The stable was about ten miles away. Sticking his Bluetooth headset over his ear, he dialed a number on his iPhone, turning down the radio as he waited. "Lopez." "Mr. Lopez. It's Drew Cunningham." "Drew! Glad to hear from you. Where are you?" Tony Lopez's voice was friendly. Drew heard machinery in the background -- sounded like Tony was at a job site. "I just got to town late yesterday. I'm on my way to check out a barn." He paused a moment to check the road sign ahead, then headed up a ramp to a four-lane highway. "I wanted to see what your schedule is like for the next few days to see when we can get together." 18

"No problem. Let me walk over to the trailer so I can hear you better, and I'll check my calendar." Drew heard more heavy equipment in the background, then the slamming of a door, before Tony was back on the line. "Okay." He heard a sigh as Tony apparently sat down. "Well, we'll be at this site for a while. Do you want to meet me here? I'm around mostly all day, making sure the job gets done. Did your dad tell you that's why I need somebody right now?" Drew heard Tony's chair squeak as he moved. Drew sighed a little. "My dad told me that you build small houses for lower-income folks, and that you'd agreed to take me on as a favor." Drew mightily resented having a job found for him, as if he were a do-nothing son who had to be placed somewhere he couldn't get into trouble. Christ, he'd just turned thirty-seven last month. There was a long pause. "Well, that's partly right, I guess. Look, today's Monday, and I'm going to be tied up tomorrow. Why don't we get together Wednesday? You can come by here around ten or so. How's that sound?" Drew hissed a little breath between his teeth. "Um, sorry. My baby girl arrives the day after tomorrow, and I have to get ready for her. Can we do it on Thursday instead? I'll have to spend the whole day with her." "Huh. Your dad didn't say you had any kids. No sweat. Thursday's fine. I'll see you at ten. Do you know where the job site is?" They had corresponded via email before Drew had left Chicago, and Tony had given him basic info about his current project. "Yeah. I'll call you if I need directions, but I think I'm okay," Drew assured him. He'd explain about Bella when he met Tony in person. "Okay. See you then." Chapter 3

Flies spread disease. Keep yours zipped. Ridge Huntington The next morning, Drew was up and headed downstairs early. Choosing one of the outdoor tables on the side veranda, he settled down and spread some Asheville area information booklets across the table. "Good morning." 19

Drew looked up to see Ridge Huntington standing next to him. He stared for a moment, surprised, before getting to his feet. Yvonne Stratton had had her work cut out for her when they'd first met, but she'd drilled manners into him, nonetheless. "I didn't know you worked over here." The veranda had been empty when Drew arrived, and he'd parked his dog under the table before taking a seat. He was certainly glad there was no one around as he looked at the young man he'd toyed with yesterday. Damn, the guy was hot. Ridge shrugged. Drew watched the whiskey-brown eyes as they dropped down and trailed back up his body. His skin heated up in response to that look. Nervously taking a deep breath, Ridge lifted the coffee carafe he held. "I don't usually unless we're short-staffed. This morning, Sheila called to say she'd be late. I'm just bussing tables until she gets here. Ready for some coffee?" At Drew's nod, he filled the cup at Drew's elbow. "Go ahead and sit down again, please." Drew obligingly took his seat again, then leaned back to look at his hotlooking waiter. He feasted his eyes on the sleek muscles and tanned skin shown off by the soft, worn jeans, plain white T-shirt, and work boots. The cotton shirt outlined the nipple ring he had played with. Lingering, Ridge cleared his throat and asked a question. "Any luck finding a place to live yet?" Drew looked at him in surprise. "Rae mentioned you would be here only until you found a place." "Well, I found a place for my horse, but I didn't see anything I liked for myself." Drew paused to take a sip of the fresh brew appreciatively. "Mmmm. Thanks." Ridge grinned in excitement, his body language easing. "You have a horse? That is so cool!" He set the carafe down on the table as he leaned his hip against the edge. "What kind is it?" Despite his decision to not get drawn into anything with this man, Drew found himself enjoying the attention and the flattering gazes cast his way. Ridge's light brown eyes were eating him up. Drew honestly didn't think the blond knew how he was looking at him. 20

He cleared his throat and took another sip of coffee as a delaying tactic while he tried to get his brain to stop taking note of the physical attractions of the other man; he had to shake his head a bit to start processing Ridge's questions. "Uh, she's a big girl; an American Warmblood." Ridge cocked his head, frowning. "I've never heard of that. What does she look like?" "Um, well, she's big, all right. She's all black, like her mama. That's the Percheron side, a draft breed. Her daddy is a thoroughbred, like the racehorse. He gave her his legs and his heart. Her mama gave her a great disposition and a beautiful conformation." Drew's voice softened as he talked about his sweetheart. Ridge looked down at Elsa, who was lying quietly at Drew's feet. "Doesn't your other girl get jealous?" Squatting, he ran his hand over the silky-soft head, scratching her ears and muzzle. Elsa groaned softly, tilting her head into his touch. Ridge's head rose, and Drew sucked in a breath at the sight of those lips level with his cock. Staring fixedly, he watched Ridge bite a full lower lip, the brown eyes wandering down below the level of the tabletop. Drew had put on his favorite barn jeans. He loved wearing them, since the soft black denim was comfortable, and didn't squeeze his boys, gave them plenty of room. Right then, he had to say that the jeans were just a little tight, and getting tighter every second. Ridge's fixed gaze was having a distinct effect. Ridge clearly noticed. "God, I'm doing it again." He jumped to his feet, losing his balance as he did so. "Whoa there, guy." Drew reached out and grabbed Ridge by the arm. His pulse was jumping, his own breath coming a little quickly. Clearly embarrassed, Ridge was just about tripping over himself to escape. "I'm sorry, Drew. I -- I, uh, need to get back to the kitchen." Face red, his host grabbed the carafe and dashed back to the kitchen, shoving through the swinging door. Drew was so tempted to follow. Forcing himself to pay attention to his current priorities, he gave himself a mental slap. He didn't have time to play with a new toy. Damn it. He needed to get busy instead with his revised, unwanted life. 21

Screw breakfast. Frowning, he got up from the table and clicked to Elsa to follow him as he walked out. *** In the kitchen, Ridge dropped the carafe on the closest table. He faced the counter, his hands flattened on the edge. "Dope, dope, dope." He banged his head slowly against a wall cabinet. God, could you have been any more of an idiot? Real smooth, ace. Not exactly the way to impress the new guy. The finest man to walk through the doors of the Place in, oh, how long? And he had to act like a teenager with his first crush. "What's wrong?" His sister's concerned voice came from behind as she stepped in from the pantry. She walked over to stand next to him, eyeing him strangely. "The engine's running but nobody's driving, that's what's wrong." He kept his eyes closed as he leaned his head against the cabinet, breathing in deeply before turning to face Rae. "Look, it's not busy in the dining room. Do you mind if I head over to work?" He pasted on a smile. His sister looked at him, clearly skeptical. "Okay, if you say so." She shrugged. "If you need to get out of here, go on, then. I think I heard Sheila out back anyway." She grabbed a tray of eggs from the cooler and walked to the other side of the kitchen. "Hope whatever it is that's bothering you works itself out before you get back." She stared pointedly at him over her shoulder. If I could control myself around Drew Cunningham, I would. But I can't seem to do that. *** Drew had spent the morning at the Hidden Springs Stable, checking out the chosen housing for his darling girl. He'd gotten a stall selected and had spent a lot of time reviewing her routine with the manager and his trainer. Drew had worked with George Drezak at the last two places he'd stabled Bella and had been happy with the progress he and his girl had been making. He'd hit a stumbling block the year before, having to adjust to a new trainer when George had relocated to North Carolina. A month ago, when he'd called George looking for a stabling reference, he hadn't known the man was actually in the Asheville area, so it had been a lucky coincidence that they could begin working together again. 22

Wandering the stable grounds, he'd found two large outdoor arenas, as well as several riding trails. Drew had looked around in satisfaction as he observed all the room to ride. His barn in Chicago had been adjacent to the forest preserve trails, but the stable grounds themselves had been minimal. This was like an equestrian Versailles in comparison. Later, he'd driven around a bit to familiarize himself with the locale. He'd spotted some areas that had attractive housing stock, and had made notes to follow up. One of the stable hands had given him a barbeque recommendation and, on the way back to the inn, Drew had grabbed some take-out. The spicy aromas in the place had his mouth watering. When he returned to Huntington Grove, Rae was in the sunroom with some of the other guests. Dropping his dinner container on a veranda table, he headed inside. Nodding politely to the guests, he raised an inquiring finger to Rae. "Do you mind if I get a glass of water from the kitchen?" She broke away from her conversation with a smile and came over to him. "Gosh, not at all. Let me help you." She stepped past him and moved into the kitchen where she pulled a large glass from a cabinet. "Did you have a good day today? Were you able to find the stables okay?" Drew nodded. "Yeah, thanks. It was fine. I spent a lot of time there yesterday and today. Bella should be happy there." Rae handed him the glass, filled with ice water. "Can I do anything else for you right now?" He shook his head, glad she hadn't brought up anything about Ridge. "No, thanks. I'll be okay." He headed back to the veranda. Sitting down with a sigh, he took a drink of water before remembering that he had to get Elsa's bowls from upstairs. "Shit." Getting back up, he told the patiently waiting dog, "I'll be right back, girl. Hang on." He went inside and loped up the stairs to his room, grabbing the full water and food bowls and bringing them back down. Setting them down for his little girl, he settled down on the wicker sofa once again. Halfway through the brisket and corn fritters, he eased his head back, staring at the beadboard ceiling of the veranda, sighing again. If he could stop thinking about Chicago, this could be an exciting time -- finding a new home, a new job, the new barn. What was pissing him off was that he had 23

been forced to give up his old home, his old job, his old life to help his father stand a chance for reelection. The fact that he despised politics and the many shallow, self-serving people closely allied to the mayor's administration was most definitely adding to his ire. It also didn't help that he'd called his dad from the barn and learned that some reporters were still sniffing around. Christ, when were they going to let it die? Wasn't there something else to write about? And bottom line, he really missed working with his dad. He missed his dad, period. They'd had some great years together at the engineering design and development firm, and even in the crazy last three years in the mayor's office, his relationship with his father had never wavered. Well... he didn't really miss working for the city. He'd gone with Charles to the fifth floor of city hall to assist his father, to help Charles serve their fellow citizens. That had been his father's dream. It had never been Drew's. Did he even have a dream? Looking at the wooden panels above him, he shook his head, wondering. Was that what he should be figuring out? He could probably tolerate the new job for a while. As long as he had a special place for Bella, and Elsa was with him, he'd make it work. Just what exactly could come from this move? His life before city hall had pretty much run the way he'd wanted. City hall. Jesus, was he glad to see the back of that. The only bright spot there had been waving sayonara to the press. He'd had to really hold back from giving them the single finger blessing as he left city hall. It would have been so satisfying... but he couldn't do that to his dad. He hadn't left much behind but his parents. He had told his real estate agent to either rent or sell his lakefront condo. He'd had no social life to speak of since his dad had been elected. He didn't even have that many exes. The last one had pronounced him saddled with an unemotional, unavailable personality, and had accused him of seeing other guys. Drew scowled as he remembered Danny. As he recalled it, Danny had screwed around on him. Elsa suddenly jumped to her feet with a woof, nudging Drew out of his moody introspection. He turned his head and saw Henry coming around the 24

corner of the house, followed by Ridge. The two dogs leaped toward each other joyfully while their owners stared at each other, momentarily transfixed. Drew raised his head and sat forward as he watched Ridge approach, his thoughts of Chicago and his half-eaten dinner -- and the reasons why he shouldn't get up from his chair -- immediately discarded. This was a welcome distraction. Ridge's motion had stopped when he'd first spotted Drew, then he'd slowly moved forward as Drew sat up. Now he came to a complete stop at the bottom of the steps, gaze locked on Drew's. He watched without speaking as Drew stood up and came down the steps, coming to a halt next to him, their bodies practically touching. Ridge was not as broadly muscled as Drew, but he clearly had some kind of regular workout regimen because his arms and chest very nicely filled out the blue T-shirt he wore. Drew's eyes were drawn to the beefcake on display. Sidling near, he used his heavier body intentionally, filling up the space next to Ridge. He was pretty sure it was having an effect. Ridge swallowed roughly. "What -- what are you doing?" he asked huskily. "What do you think I'm doing?" Drew kept his voice low, his head tilted toward Ridge. He watched the whiskey-colored eyes as they darted to the side before coming back to meet his. "What do you want me to do?" If his first question had been challenging, the second one was deliberately provocative. He watched Ridge struggle with an answer. And damned if he could figure out just why this guy was so fascinating. Something about the man made him want to dominate, to take. Drew wanted to lower Ridge to the ground and cover the lean body, make Ridge learn the feel of his cock and take it any way Drew gave it to him. The images in his mind had him drawing in a harsh breath. He moved closer to Ridge, brushing his body against the other man's, positioning his feet on either side to contain, to control. Ridge's pulse was visible, fluttering in his throat as Drew brushed against his belly. The brown eyes jerked down to where their bodies met. He uttered a small sound, then lifted his head. 25

The want in those pretty brown eyes had Drew cursing softly. He leaned his forehead close, breath hot on Ridge's ear. "Why don't we go back around to your shop? Your apartment is up there, isn't it?" A need for the sexy carpenter was riding him hard. Why shouldn't he indulge himself with a quick fuck? Ridge nodded silently, licking his lips. Drew's eyes were drawn to the movement, and he moved to follow that tongue. At the last moment, he caught himself, remembering where they were. He pulled his head back an inch. "Let's go, before I fuck you right here." The words were raw, his voice hoarse. He didn't retreat from his dominating position, trying to force Ridge to respond the way he wanted. He was rewarded when Ridge's head dropped and the sexy blond backed away, turning to walk around the house. The dogs raced over from their playing. Drew threw out his arm to Elsa, sending her off to play again, Henry following faithfully. Drew, meanwhile, followed the hot ass in front of him, his mouth watering as he pictured stripping Ridge and nailing the blond against the wall. He watched those sleek muscles as they moved under the soft cotton Tshirt and jeans. Ridge had a sexy walk that Drew could watch for hours, ass moving with the slightest swing that made Drew want to grab it. As soon as they were out of sight of the inn, he moved forward and took a handful, his fingers sliding into the crease. Ridge stumbled to a stop. "God. Uh. We have to--" Drew came up solidly behind, pressing forward, moving a hand from that tight behind to Ridge's cock, cupping the bulge in his jeans and rubbing softly, pushing against the softness of the sac there. Ridge stiffened at the contact, then melted back, his head coming to rest against Drew's shoulder. Drew brought a free hand up and felt for the nipple ring, tugging it through the T-shirt. Ridge moaned softly, turning his head into Drew's chest and rubbing his face against the muscles there. "Come on. Keep moving." Drew gave one last squeeze to Ridge's cock before pushing from behind. He stayed close as Ridge moved toward the shop building. Ridge walked around the building, past the door Drew had seen that first morning and over to an outside stair on the far side. He stumbled to a 26

stop on the first step and swung around abruptly. "I... I don't have any condoms upstairs. I -- I just..." Drew raised his head a little. Paused on the tread, Ridge was looking down at him. He stared into those light brown eyes and smiled slightly. "That's okay. We'll make it work for now." He kissed those soft lips, his tongue pushing inside to claim. With a low groan, Ridge brought lean arms up to Drew's shoulders, and Drew felt the long fingers, calloused from Ridge's woodworking trade, combing through his hair. Wiry strength pushed against him, testing, pressing, the stiff prick poking him in his middle. "God, I want to feel you," Ridge whispered, voice husky. He lifted his left knee and brought his leg around Drew, pulling himself closer as his hips rocked. Drew's hands were on his ass, holding and squeezing as Ridge moved his leg. Wanting to be upstairs already, Drew picked Ridge up and started walking up the steps, pulling back to look down as they moved up the stairs. He felt a puff of breath against his ear as Ridge spoke. "You... God, you're ripped." Ego stroked, Drew cocked his head to the side as he reached the landing at the top of the stairs. "What? You don't weigh that much." Leaning back, chest rising and falling quickly, Ridge watched him, eyes moving over his face. "I weigh one-eighty. So this is pretty impressive." One lone finger traced Drew's lower lip. "I'm impressed, at least." A blond eyebrow cocked. Easing his head back from that finger, Drew stepped forward once more. Leaning down a bit, he jerked his chin at the door. "Can you reach the lever?" Drew kept a tight hold on Ridge as he turned toward the opening, glad when the other man said nothing more. Ridge obligingly leaned to the side and pushed the handle down, then shoved the door a few inches. Drew booted it the rest of the way open, then nudged it closed behind them as he walked through. He took a quick look around, noting the open loft concept with living/dining/kitchen space all in one big area. He saw a couple of doors across the room and walked toward the open one. "Kiss me." Ridge moaned as Drew complied, then whimpered softly as 27

he caught Drew's tongue between his lips, sucking strongly on it. Drew pushed it farther inside, and Ridge wrapped his lips around it. He nibbled on it, playing a little bit, and was rewarded by Drew's throaty growl. Drew shoved him against the wall next to the bedroom doorway, back pressed flat as Drew thrust forward, grinding. Drew reached between them, his lips still locked with Ridge's, his tongue thrusting toward the back of Ridge's throat as he jerked open his own jeans, pulling out his aching cock. He angled his hand and reached for Ridge's waistband, trying to get the other man's jeans open. Ridge pushed at Drew's shoulders, moving his head back from the steamy kiss, panting. "Let me do it!" He brought a hand down and shoved between them, ripping open the buttons on his fly. Drew took over as soon as he felt it loosen, knocking Ridge's hand out of the way and taking hold of one beautiful cock. It was slightly longer than his own, a little thicker. He palmed it in quick appreciation, gripping the silky hardness in his fist, pulling at it from base to tip. He felt the pre-come leaking at the tip and used his thumb to spread the wetness, rubbing and pushing against Ridge's slit as he did so. Ridge bumped his head against the wall, crying out. "God! Your hand - oh, God, that's good. So good." He rocked his hips into that grip, keeping his legs tight around Drew's waist. Drew tilted his head and ran his tongue down Ridge's throat, tasting him, rubbing his tongue over the pounding pulse. He used his teeth, biting down and sucking, hearing Ridge cry out. He shifted the hand pulling on Ridge and brought their dicks together, rubbing their combined wetness on the silky skin of both heads. "How's that feel, huh?" He whispered the words against Ridge's right ear as he ate at the sweet lobe, flicking it with his tongue and biting down on it. He drove his tongue inside. Ridge was whimpering steadily now, the soft sounds interspersed with Drew's grunts as Drew used his thumb to bring both cockheads together, their sensitive undersides rubbing. Ridge let loose an anguished moan, his hips driving faster into Drew's hand as his head again dropped back against the wall. Drew's grip tightened on both their cocks, increasing the friction to heighten their pleasure. 28

The excitement built as they worked toward orgasm. Drew bent down and, with his teeth, grabbed the muscle between Ridge's neck and shoulder; he bit down. Ridge squealed and exploded into orgasm, his semen filling Drew's hand. Drew let go of Ridge's cock and grabbed his own tightly, the feeling of heated wetness driving him crazy. He pulled faster, grunting, his weight pinning Ridge to the wall now. He felt his orgasm boil up from his balls and shot his load onto Ridge, wetting the blond's T-shirt and belly. Their chests heaving, they panted hot breath onto each other, their foreheads bumping softly as their eyes met. Ridge moved a fraction of an inch and brought their lips together, sliding his tongue along Drew's. They kissed hungrily, their mouths eating at each other for long moments before lethargy overcame them and they began nuzzling each other. Drew moved them through the bedroom doorway and slowly walked over to the bed. He turned and fell backward onto the king that took up the center of the far wall, Ridge coming down on top of him. They lay together without speaking, their breathing slowing down. Ridge nestled his head in the pocket of Drew's shoulder and closed his eyes. Drew felt Ridge's body relax into sleep as he rubbed the muscled back, his hand drifting down inside the loose jeans to caress the soft skin of Ridge's ass. He sighed deeply as his eyes closed; his hand kept hold of Ridge as he, too, fell asleep. Chapter 4

Sex on television can't hurt you, unless you fall off. Drew Cunningham The sound of barking woke Ridge an hour later. His eyes opened, and he stared for a moment at the jersey cloth an inch from his nose, his lids blinking as he tried to focus. His body shifted a little and his legs complained, thigh muscles tight from lying spread open over Drew while the men slept. He eased away and sat up, his hand running down Drew's chest. He ventured under Drew's T-shirt, liking the feel of the wiry body hair. His 29

fingers moved upward, taking the shirt with them as he ran his thumb across one of Drew's nipples. With a little smile on his face, he watched the tender bit harden, then pressed against it. Watching it tighten further, he bent down to capture it with his teeth. Drew's breath hissed out as Ridge nibbled and sucked on the salty morsel. "Mmm-hmm." Ridge transferred his attention to the other nipple, his hand following to continue to play with the first nipple. He nuzzled against the little bits. He hummed softly at Drew's flavor as he licked his way back to the first nipple. A gravelly voice interrupted his play. "Hey, before you really get going, why don't I run to that store I saw down the road and get us some rubbers? I'm thinking this is going to get good really fast." Belly clenching in excitement and fear, Ridge rumbled softly as Drew pushed up to a sitting position. Gnawing on his lip, his eyes darting around, he considered what he was doing. Was he really ready to move it up a notch? Drew leaned over, and Ridge's lower lip was sucked into his mouth, sharp teeth nibbling gently. "Hang on to that thought. Besides, I think the dogs want to come in." Ridge watched as Drew shoved himself to his feet, gingerly setting his cock back into his jeans and buttoning up. "I'll let them in, and be back in a few minutes." Drew eyed him before heading into the bathroom. Exhaling deeply, Ridge tried to quell the nerves making his stomach tighten. Pushing his hair back with a shaky hand, he uttered a half-laugh as he set his feet on the floor and stood upright. "Oh, boy." As Drew walked out of the bathroom, Ridge was treated to a heated glance that blazed up and down his body. Despite his trepidation, he shivered in response, helpless not to react to that lustful stare. *** Drew chuckled as he spotted the two shepherds sitting on the landing outside, staring up into the door glass. He opened the door. "Come on inside, you two." The two dogs happily bounded inside. It was amazing how easily the 30

two canines had meshed. Now, Elsa stuck like glue to Henry as the male headed directly for the food bowl. Shaking his head in bemusement, Drew grinned as he stepped through the door. When he looked back, the dogs were standing side by side, happily crunching away. Downstairs, he rounded the front of the inn, heading to where his truck was parked. As he neared the main entrance, movement inside the sunroom caught his eye. He spotted Rae looking at him through the picture window. As he strode toward the Navigator, she came out the door and walked down the steps. Raising her hand, she waved him over. Cursing slightly under his breath, he detoured to meet her. She had a sheaf of papers that she held out to him as she came to a stop. "You left these on the porch earlier." She was staring at him. Attempting to ignore that, he took the real estate listings from Rae, his eyes moving down to them as he shuffled them straight in his hands. "Don't play with him." The words came from her abruptly. His eyes jerked up. He was surprised at her directness and taken slightly off guard. "You have the power to hurt him. I don't know how, so quickly, but you do." Her voice was soft but earnest. "He's not what you think he is." Drew's immediate response was to deny everything. "Look, lady, I don't know what you're talking about--" "I saw the two of you earlier. I was walking by the window when you were at the bottom of these steps." Her voice was flat and measured, but he noticed she had to take a deep breath to continue. "I'm not sure but... I -- I don't think he's been around the block too many times. You've managed to bewitch him somehow." It sounded as though she thought Drew was at fault for that. His temper never in short supply, he started to get pissed. Who did this woman think she was talking to? "My business with your brother is just that - my business." He moved to walk away when Rae grabbed his arm. When he stared down at her hand, she jerked it back, looking a little unnerved. "I'm sorry if I'm being too blunt. That's not the southern way, I know." She shrugged diffidently. "I just worry about him. He's sensitive." Drew stared at her for another moment before turning and walking off, 31

leaving Rae standing there. Inside the truck, he swung his head around as he backed up, catching sight of his hostess still watching him, her face pensive. Drew muttered crankily as he drove down the main road. "Sensitive? How does Rae know I'm not the sensitive one? I could be a crier, for all she knows." He stopped himself there. Snorting, he shook his head, grinning wryly for a brief second. Nah. Not in a million years. But why was he the guilty party? What had he done? Okay, so maybe he'd come onto Ridge again when he'd spotted the hot blond earlier, but Christ, Ridge had been right there with him the entire time. Maybe Ridge was younger than he was, but the guy couldn't be that much younger, for God's sake. Could he? By the time Drew got to the drugstore he'd spotted earlier and walked inside, he'd worked himself into a righteous snit. He stalked over to the condom display and grabbed a couple of boxes, along with some lube. When he tossed them on the checkout counter, the teenaged cashier eyed him warily. Oh. Maybe he needed to tone it down. He grimaced and attempted a smile. From the cashier's continued silence, he wasn't sure he'd gotten it right. "How's it going?" he tried. Nothing. Whatever. Moving on. Back outside, he slammed into his truck. Damn it, wasn't it enough that I had to give up my life and move to this fricking backwater? So what if he wanted to have some fun once he got here? It wasn't like he did this all the time, was it? Actually, none of the time was more like it. Stopping to think as he approached the road leading to the inn, he realized that he couldn't remember the last time he'd been so wound up by anybody. Because he kept his lifestyle and sexuality extremely private, he didn't even date that often. If he were going to be truthful with himself -which... uh, he didn't really do too often -- he'd have to admit he didn't let anybody inside his world, except his parents. 32

So he was overdue. Drew snorted again. He was going to enjoy himself with Ridge Huntington for as long as it lasted. And he had a feeling it was going to be damned hot while it lasted. *** Ridge heard the purr of the Navigator pulling into the parking area next to his shop. Butterflies were flittering madly in his belly as he listened to the sound of Drew coming up the steps. The other man's boots were loud on the wooden stairs, echoing in the quiet evening. Ridge had taken a quick shower to wash the come off and was now wearing a clean pair of jeans. He was once again barefoot, his hair slightly wet. He pushed the shaggy sides back over his ears as the door opened. His heart started pounding as he watched the bigger man come in, a scowl written plainly across the rugged face. Drew stopped just inside the door, head turning. When those turquoise eyes landed on him, Drew's eyelids drifted down a bit and the scowl eased into a predatory look that sent shivers down Ridge's spine. Whoa. "You didn't wait for me. You're all clean." Drew made a clicking sound with his tongue. "I guess I'll just have to mess you up again." There was a promise in those husky words. Drew locked the door and started moving toward Ridge, his pace measured. Ridge had the strangest feeling he knew what a gazelle felt like on the Serengeti, and he couldn't help backing up through the doorway. He jerked his head around to see how close the bed was, and when he looked back, Drew was upon him. "You better take off those jeans." The direction was calm, but the fires burning in Drew's eyes were not. The turquoise shade was brilliant just about then. After a slight hesitation, Ridge obeyed, jerking down his zipper and stepping out of the jeans, kicking them off to the side. He took the bag that Drew thrust at him. "Here. Take the stuff out of the bag, and put it over there." Drew waved in the general direction of the nightstand. Ridge opened the bag and placed the condom boxes and lube bottles on 33

the nightstand. His hand shook as he set them down, his mind going crazy trying to picture the joining to come. He was nervous and exhilarated all at the same time, and his breath was coming faster. Shelby would be so proud of him. He was going to hook up with a real stud. He almost couldn't breathe. He saw that Drew was watching him as the tough guy slid the black Tshirt up and off. Those amazing eyes roved over Ridge's nudity, and in response, his cock rose, nudging his belly. "You look so good. Yesterday morning, by the creek, I was picturing this." The throaty words sent another shiver up his spine. When Drew continued to stare, he looked down self-consciously. Ridge knew what he looked like, saw it every day in the mirror; he just didn't think he was Hollywood material. Okay, maybe he wasn't bad. Running a couple times a week and an occasional swim helped keep his body lean. And, all right, he did like to skinny dip in the creek fairly often, which made his skin a uniform golden color in the summer. But, God, that stare! "Um, you don't have to say anything like that." Brow quirking, Drew eyed Ridge from where he sat on the bed. "I can't wait to touch you." Drew pulled off his boots and socks then stood to calmly unbutton his fly. He kept his pace slow and steady, eyes tracking Ridge's fidgeting. "It's going to be good." The husky voice raked across Ridge's nerve endings, sending a shiver down his spine. When Drew was naked, he moved next to Ridge and put his fingers on Ridge's nipple ring, moving it around. He murmured as Ridge's eyes closed in pleasure. "Too bad you don't have another of these so that I could play with both of your little titties. Wouldn't that be good, huh?" Ridge whimpered, the very thought of that sending a flash of heat through his body. "Here I was thinking most guys don't like to talk too much while they're, um, uh, getting it on." Drew's tongue slid up Ridge's throat, licking to one earlobe and sucking it inward, nipping. "Am I talking too much?" A shiver chased across Ridge's skin as big hands took possession of his ass and he was pulled forward roughly. His cock didn't seem to care, though, meeting Drew's eagerly. Both were pushing and pulsing against one another. Still, he wasn't distracted 34

enough that he missed the fingers of one of those big hands move down his crease, nudging softly at his hole. He gasped at the feeling, his body jerking forward into Drew. "Easy, man. We can take our time." Drew's whisper feathered across his ear. Ridge tilted his head up, eyes meeting Drew's. Did he actually see a tiny bit of concern in the man's normally scowly expression? Whatever it was, it disappeared as quickly as it came as Drew moved to meet Ridge's lips with his own, kissing passionately, his tongue thrusting to the back of Ridge's throat. With a deep moan, Ridge's body bent into Drew, arms locking around the strong back, fingers digging into the muscles there. Drew tugged Ridge toward the bed, lifting, helping him to lie on his back. Drew kept moving, reaching across him, on a mission for slick. Grabbing a bottle of lube from the nightstand, his new lover knelt with one knee between his legs. As Ridge's nerves started firing and his heart started pounding, his right leg was pushed up, his knee bending as his foot was set flat on the bed. Drew did the same with his other leg, leaving Ridge feeling very vulnerable with his junk so completely exposed. He panted a little as Drew eased back and opened the lube. "Drew, I might not, um, be, uh, too good at this, but..." He lost his courage for a moment, and made himself take a deep breath, then start again. "Just show me what -- what to do." "Your sister said you were sensitive." Drew eyed him knowingly. That stopped him cold. "Wait. What? What did you say?" Ridge frowned, legs starting to stiffen. "You're sensitive." Drew shrugged. "So, I can be sensitive, too. Touch me. You'll see how sensitive I can be." Drew gestured at his own cock. Why did Rae have to intrude on this? "Why'd she say that?" Bringing one leg over Drew, Ridge rolled to the side and sat up. "What is she doing? Is she trying to mess this up?" Clearly surprised by Ridge's withdrawal, Drew grimaced and held up his hands, one still holding the bottle of lube. "What?" "My sister. She thinks I'm still her baby brother." Ridge made a move to get off the bed. "She thinks she has to protect me." Drew closed the bottle of lube with a snap, dropping it on the bed. "I 35

didn't like her when she interrupted us yesterday, and I'm liking her even less now." He reached out a hand and grabbed Ridge by the upper arm. "Come back here. You can talk to her later." Muscles relaxing slowly, Ridge allowed a tiny smile. Drew cupped the back of his head and urged him closer. "Oh. You mean, I should probably concentrate on this, right here?" "Uh-huh. I'm pretty sure I could keep you occupied for, oh, say, half an hour, at least." Drew kissed him, tongue surging inside. Ridge tried to catch it with his lips, but he wasn't quick enough. He was pushed onto his back again, Drew leaning over him. "Let's see if we can't get back to where we were." Drew sported a devilish grin. Long fingers stroked Ridge's dick, coaxing it back from its half-hard state. Talking about his sister had managed to deflate his excitement just a bit. Breathing deeply, he eased down into the bedding. Here he was, with what was undeniably the hottest guy he'd met in, well, too long, and he was spending his time thinking. "I need to just feel." "Huh?" Hand busy stroking and petting, Drew looked at him with a frown. Sighing in embarrassment, Ridge wriggled. "Forget it. I'm just being stupid." "Let's see if we can get you refocused." Drew looked down. "Um, both heads." Chuckling, relaxing at last, Ridge sighed, then gasped as Drew palmed his balls and tugged them the tiniest bit. "You like that?" "Uh-huh." Did he like that? Hell, yeah, he liked that. "How about this?" His knees were again pushed apart, and Drew settled between them, elbows planted for balance. "You be sure and let me know if you like this part." A warm, wet mouth closed over his cock, and Ridge arched automatically in response. "Unnhh. Um, yeah. Oh, God." He was being sucked so well, the suction just right. Drew varied his movements, at one moment his tongue pressing under the head of Ridge's dick, and the next, just the tip sinking into the slit. 36

"Holy shit." Ridge continued to babble as the good feelings rolled over his body, heat flooding up from his belly. His feet pressed into the mattress and his fingers moved restlessly on the bedding. Levering himself up, Drew reached once again for the lube. Ridge gulped as the cap of the bottle snapped open, the snick of sound loud in the quiet room. Drew stretched out over Ridge, resting on a muscled forearm, and palmed his cock with a slick hand. Talented fingers stroked him and nudged his scrotum on every downstroke. "Let me see if I can..." Drew eased that big hand back every so often, fingertips pressing against Ridge's perineum. On one pass of those fingers, Ridge's eyes crossed and he cried out, his legs spreading wide, his knees coming up. "Whoa -- ungh." His eyes were screwed shut and his head was arched back as Drew continued to press and massage that spot. "Jesus. I -- I didn't know you could... touch that from the outside." "Uh-huh," Drew confirmed huskily, lips at Ridge's ear. He nipped the earlobe, causing Ridge to moan again. Drew took advantage of Ridge's spread thighs, his slick finger pushing against Ridge's opening. He moved his head slightly, enough to kiss and nibble at Ridge's lips, murmuring as he did so. "So good. You feel so good." Suddenly, that fingertip pushed inside, and Ridge whimpered and tightened up. His eyes popped open and he stared up at Drew. When he'd done this before, it had kind of hurt. "Easy. Just let me in. Push out a little, it'll help." Ridge tried to get his body to obey. Drew's finger eased in deeper. "Have you ever used any toys up here?" Groaning both in embarrassment and at the feeling of that finger going deeper, Ridge closed his eyes as he nodded. "Uh. Yeah. I -- well, I have this, um, plug." Taking a deep breath, he opened his eyes again, catching Drew grinning slightly. "Good. That's good." Drew nodded. "Makes this a little easier." He kept moving that one finger in and out, watching, murmuring. Ridge found Drew's soft whispers comforting and thrilling at the same time. He felt himself relax, beginning to enjoy the feeling of having a part of this man inside his body. 37

Twisting his wrist, Drew crooked that long finger. Feeling it press internally against the same spot Drew had found before, Ridge bowed his body off the bed, crying out in pleasure. "God, that feels way better than... uh--" "Way better than a plug?" Ridge's moan brought a cocky grin to Drew's face. "Yeah. Most guys think so." Drew quickly pushed another finger in and pressed it against that gland. Ridge had meant the determined poking of his long-ago boyfriend in junior college, but now didn't seem like a good time to clarify. Ridge grunted and shook, body opening to Drew. His legs dropped a little, resting on the mattress as Drew's fingers moved, spreading, bending. He could feel them slicking up his inside -- and every pass nudged his gland. He watched in fascination as Drew bent down, mouth opening over his pierced nipple, those white teeth tugging on the ring and wet tongue stabbing at the little bud of flesh. He shivered. God, that was hot. "Okay, I'm going to push another one in now." With a whimper, Ridge nodded, eyes fixated on Drew's turquoise beauties. It was overwhelming, but Drew wasn't rushing him, was taking it so slowly. Ridge bit his lip, swallowing roughly as he admitted to himself that being the object of so much focus was frightening and exhilarating at the same time. He felt pressure and the burn as another finger stretched his hole. He stiffened at the feeling of fullness and blew out a breath, which eased his opening just a bit. Then Drew nudged his gland again with those talented fingers. "God!" Jesus, that felt good. Head up, Ridge watched avidly as Drew got his knees under himself and pushed upward, sitting on his heels with his knees spread wide. This position allowed him to use his free hand to tug on Ridge's dick while he pushed farther inside with his busy hand. Ridge's balls drew up tight to his body, and he grabbed his knees, holding them to his chest to open himself up as much as possible to the pleasure. He was so close; he was almost embarrassed at the noises he was making. They were getting louder. Drew pulled faster and harder on Ridge's cock, his eyes trained on 38

Ridge's face. "Come on, baby -- come for me. That's it. Fuck my fingers -come on!" Those fingers were indeed busy pushing Ridge's gland, and he moved faster on his stroking as Ridge cried out in wonder, cock shooting cream into Drew's hand. He dropped his head back to the pillow, gusting out a breath of completion. Drew eased his fingers out and leaned forward, holding his comesoaked hand to Ridge's lips. "Go ahead, taste yourself." The words were electrifying -- so hot, so sexual, so... Ohmygod. "Mmmm." Ridge groaned low as he opened his mouth. He'd done this before -- what guy hadn't -- but he'd never done it with someone else watching. It felt so dirty with Drew's eyes on him. Hesitant, he stuck out his tongue, licking Drew's fingers. Closing his eyes, he swallowed, finding that his flavor was enhanced a little bit by the tiny hint of kink that went with it. Opening his eyes again, he eased forward and took the rest of his come inside, watching Drew watch him as he did so. It did make him wonder what Drew would taste like. Before the filter on his brain could get engaged, he opened his mouth. "Is this what you taste like?" Chapter 5

It's hotter than two rabbits making babies in a sock. Ridge Huntington Ridge's voice was husky, the words intimate. Drew sucked in a raw breath at the question, his mind immediately picturing this sexy stud at his feet, deep-throating his cock and drinking down his come. "Would you like to find out?" He stretched out over Ridge again, kissing him wildly, his tongue fucking that sweet mouth. Ridge's eyes were glued to his as Drew lifted his head. The younger man bit his lip as he stared upward. "I kind of wish, yeah, but--" Drew sucked in a harsh breath. "Yeah, me, too." He huffed a slightly amused breath. "We'll take it a step at a time, okay?" For some dumbass reason, he felt a little protective. "I'm not, um, exactly a player, either..." Ridge stared at him, teeth again nibbling at the pretty red lips. "Um. 39

Okay." Well, the kid didn't appear too nervous. Drew decided to get his head back in the game. His dick hadn't left the field, though -- it hadn't even heard the whistle blow. He reached over and grabbed the condom box, tearing it open and pulling one out. He kept one eye on Ridge, who was fidgeting slightly. One knee was bending and straightening, Ridge's foot slowly sliding up and down on the mattress. Quickly gloving up, he grabbed the lube and slicked himself, his hand making quick, jerking movements along his prick. Drew dropped forward again and, with his slick fingers, pressed against Ridge's opening. He heard a gasp, then a groan before the muscle relaxed enough to let him inside. "Uhhuh. That's good." With a grunt, Ridge opened up a little more, letting both of his fingers in deeper. "That," Ridge breathed, "that -- oh, I like that. Let me... unh, more." Quirking his lips at the incoherent ramblings, and the breathless demand for more, Drew pushed in farther, spreading his fingers. He kept an eye on the fascinating expressions crossing the tanned face, watching closely as he twisted his hand. He was being gripped by hot, wet ass -- couldn't wait for it to be his dick instead of his digits. The blond head tilted back on the pillow, and Ridge gave a groaning sigh. "God. That feels... Man, I should have been doing this a long time ago." Maybe not the scared little virgin after all. Eyebrows arching, Drew couldn't help but snort at that. "Well, let's get your training started." Holding his dick steady with one hand, he nudged the slick, pink opening. His belly clenched tight as Ridge's hole spread, slowly widening. The pressure of the tight muscle made him hiss, and the visual of his dick taking Ridge's ass was almost indescribable. Ridge panted hard as Drew pressed inside. "Oh... oh, God." "Push out." Drew's voice was low as he restrained himself from shoving his entire length in. "I'm trying!" Ridge said desperately. "It burns!" His head tossed from side to side and his eyes were tightly shut. "I guess I should have used a bigger butt plug!" Sputtering at that, Drew struggled not to laugh as the vise clamp of 40

Ridge's ass eased around his dick, and the head of his cock popped inside. He eased forward slowly, watching as Ridge took a deep breath. Ridge gave a low moan as Drew bottomed out, then his lover's eyelashes fluttered and the sweet brown eyes opened. "I can feel you. I can..." Ridge paused to pant a little, "I can... feel you - oh! -- all the way inside. In me, so deep." His voice was a ragged whisper. "Big... it's so... big." Gratified -- who wouldn't be with that praise? -- especially since he wasn't actually that big, Drew took a deep breath. He dropped forward onto his hands, sliding them under Ridge's knees and bringing the muscled legs forward, raising Ridge's ass in the air. "Now I can..." He pulled back, then eased inward again. The heat and tightness were excruciating. Drew flexed his glutes and tightened his belly muscles, withdrawing and shoving forward, over and over. "Take it. That's it. Take it." Changing his angle, he tried to find Ridge's gland. On the third attempt, Ridge let out a cry. "God! There!" Feeling an inordinate pride that he'd made the guy almost scream, Drew focused his attention on that spot. Hips moving, rolling, his dick getting harder as Ridge moaned, he kept driving forward. A drop of sweat rolled down his temple and along his jaw. He flicked another away with a jerk of his head as he focused. *** Ridge was wide open, more vulnerable than he'd ever been in his life. He lifted his legs up higher, resting them on Drew's shoulders. His ass up high, his hole wide open for the thick cock, he loved it. "More! Unnhhh... more!" His voice was hoarse as he begged and demanded. "Grab your cock for me. Grab it and stroke it. Fuck your hand for me, while I fuck your sweet, tight ass. The sweetest, tightest ass I've ever had." Drew started swinging his hips even faster, grunting as he put his weight into it. Ridge yelled hoarsely as Drew nailed his gland again, hard. "God!" Drew kept banging, driving it. 41

A raspy cry echoed in the room suddenly as Ridge clamped his ass muscles down tight and his cock shot all over his hand and his belly. His muscles bunched as he arched his body in a bow, his orgasm holding him locked in place for long seconds. Drew threw his hips forward for several more thrusts. "I -- I've got to," he gritted through clenched teeth. Freezing, he cried out harshly, spasming as he came. Legs slowly sliding down, Ridge's low moaning turned into mumbling as his feet hit the mattress. He brought one hand up, wrist resting on his forehead. He heaved a huge, broken sigh. "God, did I just sound like two cats fighting or what?" Panting, almost choking on a laugh, Drew moved his hands to release Ridge's legs, then dropped his weight onto Ridge, his head coming to rest in the hollow of Ridge's shoulder. He sighed deeply, replete. Ridge was quiet now under Drew's weight, his hands softly caressing the muscled back. Suddenly, he turned his head toward the side of the bed. "They're staring at us." "Huh?" "The dogs. They're staring at us." *** Drew turned his head to follow Ridge's gaze. Sure enough, the two shepherds were sitting by the bed, their heads cocked, looking at the two men. They sat side by side, their butts touching. Drew, his adrenaline still bouncing around inside, snorted softly. He quirked his lips at the picture the dogs made. Jesus, first the sister and now the dogs. Anybody else want to know what's going on in here? He heaved another sigh. That had been an unbelievable ride, he thought -- with someone who had quite possibly been a virgin, no less -- and he'd come on like shock and awe. He should be ashamed of himself. Rising up on an elbow, he stared down at Ridge, considering. Nah. With a mental shrug, he drew back a little. Circling his fingers around his cock to hold onto the condom, he pulled out carefully, wincing a little at the grimace on Ridge's face. "I'm sorry, baby." 42

He did have to admit it was a little creepy having the dogs watch their every move. "Elsa, go lie down." He pointed to the living area, and the dog obediently rose and headed out of the room, her boyfriend at her side. "That was creepy." Ridge's comment unknowingly matched Drew's assessment. "I hope they didn't watch us the whole time." He took deep breaths, wincing again as he stretched out his legs. "Whoa." He watched as Drew tied off the condom and moved to the bathroom to pitch it in the trash. After dumping the rubber, Drew walked back to the bed and slid under the sheet. Ridge rolled to cuddle against Drew, tucking himself under Drew's arm. Hesitantly, Drew brought that arm up and around, sliding his hand along Ridge's back. He considered Ridge's statement about the dogs. "You know, the Seventh Cavalry could have been in the room and I wouldn't have stopped. Once you got me started, there was no going back." He raised Ridge's chin with his fingers. "Was this your first time?" He was kind of sure now. "Wh -- why do you think that?" Ridge evaded. The abrupt question appeared to startle him. "Because you sure didn't seem too comfortable when we first got going. It, uh, kind of sounded like you didn't know what to do." Ridge shook his head. One shoulder lifting in an awkward shrug, Drew frowned in acceptance. "Okay with me. I just hope I, um, wasn't too rough. You took me okay, right?" Why the hell he should feel guilty was beyond him. He heard what sounded like a faint snort. Offended, he pulled away and angled his head down so he could look Ridge in the eye. Well, he would have, if Ridge weren't keeping his eyes down. "What? You think you're so big and bad that I should feel scared?" Ridge snorted again, and this time there was no doubt about it. The blond rolled away, lying on his back and staring at the ceiling. "I've done this before, you know." Was he grandstanding? "Uh-huh. When?" Silence. Bringing both arms up, Drew layered one pillow over another, and he leaned back with his hands behind his head. He slanted a look at Ridge. "When you were fifteen?" 43

"No!" Ridge said disgustedly. Rolling his eyes, he looped one arm behind his head. Still staring at the ceiling, he sighed. "Look. I've fucked before. It's just... been a while. In junior college. It just wasn't that great, that's all." Okay. So why was Drew still worried? Jesus, why did he even care? "Hey." Ridge finally looked at him, head tilting to the side. "I'm fine. I wanted to jump your bone and I did it." The blond looked a little anxious. "I'll do it again, if we get the chance." There was a nervous grin on Ridge's lean face, contrasting with the rakish look of the red-gold five o'clock shadow. Nodding slowly, Drew waved a hand. "All right by me." He gestured toward the television on the far wall. "Want to turn that on? Let's see if we can find Hell's Kitchen." "Now, why doesn't it surprise me that you're a fan of Chef Ramsay?" Amused, Drew snorted. "You trying to tell me something?" He had to admit he liked it when Ridge sounded a bit flinty. Maybe there was more to the kid than he thought. "Not at all." Ridge rolled onto his side with a sly smile. "Why would I think that a big, tough, city guy like you would like an iron-assed chef who has a mouth like a longshoreman and hates everybody?" Smart ass. "He sounds perfect to me. In fact, I could have used him at my last job." If only. Drew could almost laugh as he pictured Chef Ramsay going after some of the most obnoxious members of the press pool. Oh, yeah. "Whatever you're thinking, it must be good." Shaking his head, Ridge hummed as he propped himself on an elbow and reached for the remote. Aiming it at the television, he clicked on the guide. "Doesn't look like it's on now, but if you want, I can put on the Food Channel." Considering, Drew scanned the guide. "There! That one. On TNT." "Southland? Never heard of it." Drew settled back on his pillows and pulled the covers up to his chest. "Oh, man, you don't know what you're missing. John Cooper is a major bad ass." He scowled when he heard Ridge chuckling. "What?" "Nothing." Ridge was definitely laughing. "I just didn't think you'd be a TV hound, that's all." He swung his legs over the side. "I'm going to check 44

the food and water for the dogs. I'll be back." Waving at him without looking, Drew kept his focus on the screen. John Cooper was also a major stud. Chapter 6

If brains were dynamite, you wouldn't have enough to blow your nose. Drew Cunningham Ridge woke up alone just before seven. His ass was sore from its unaccustomed activity, and he sat up gingerly. The television in the living room was making noise and, through the open window, the birds were singing. The sky was yellow in the east as the sun's rays slowly brightened. Pushing himself to his feet, he walked naked to the bathroom. Looking in the mirror, he sized himself up. He really didn't look any different, but he surely felt different. Last night with Drew had been incredible. Just thinking of what they'd done together made him hot and tingly inside. His cheeks were burning as he remembered how he'd behaved. God! He winced as his hole flexed in memory of last night's fun. It had been a little weird to just roll over and watch television after the wildest sex he'd ever had, but he'd run with it. He was pretty sure he'd come off as adult and cool about everything. But he did have to call Shelby this morning. He needed to talk to his best friend and check on the morning-after protocol. He looked yearningly at the deep tub and wished he had time to soak away his sore muscles before he had to be at work. No such luck today. After relieving himself, he walked out to the main room, looking around for Drew and the dogs. Huh. Maybe he wouldn't need that coaching on morning-after conversation. He wandered over to the kitchen, just to make sure Drew wasn't quietly taking up space in there. He looked past the breakfast bar into the eating nook and found it empty. As he turned his head, he spotted a note on the counter. Grabbing it, he read it eagerly. Ridge -- my baby girl is arriving this morning. I just got the call. I'll try to call you a little later to get together. Here's my cell number if you need it. 45

Ridge picked up his cell phone and programmed in Drew's number. I called the front desk for your number. PS -- Henry wanted to come along, so he's with me. Marveling that he hadn't heard Drew make a sound this morning, Ridge grinned, glad to see that he hadn't been left without a word... but who in the heck was Drew's "baby girl?" Ohhhh. Must be the horse. He headed back to the bathroom to shower, deciding to call Drew at lunchtime if he hadn't heard from him. He shivered just thinking about what Drew had done to him and with him. His insides were jumping around and he felt flushed. If they got to do it again and it was any more explosive than last night, he wasn't sure he'd live through it. He grinned again in delight. What a way to go. Rae was in the kitchen when he stopped by to grab something to eat on his way to work. She looked up from the bagels she was slicing. Her lips compressed when she saw him and she looked back down at her work without speaking. Puzzled, he stared at his sister. What was her problem? "What's wrong?" He went to the cabinet and pulled out a to-go mug, filling it with the delicious-smelling brew on the counter. He reached for a bagel to toast as she answered. "You were with him last night, weren't you?" He froze with his back to her, the bagel held in the air over the toaster. His hand came down slowly, setting the bagel in the slots, then pushing the bar down to start the appliance. "Why are you asking me that?" He didn't turn to face her but instead walked to the far counter and grabbed a fresh tomato. Pulling out a sharp knife, he began slicing it. Rae's voice was troubled behind him. "Ridge, honey, women aren't the only ones attracted to bad boys. And he's bad, you can tell by looking at him." She stopped what she was doing and walked up behind him. Reaching out, she put a hand on her brother's shoulder, rubbing a little. "You were my responsibility for a long time. Even though you're a grown man, I still feel the need to look out for you." She shrugged apologetically. "He could hurt you badly -- and I don't want that to happen. That's all I'm saying." Ridge turned to face her. "He could also make me happy. Did you think 46

of that?" He watched his sister's eyes widen. "He doesn't know how good he can be." He moved back against the counter, his posture casual but his voice serious. "I think he's used to taking care of himself and not worrying about anybody else. That's the man you see." "But how much can you possibly know about him? You just met him the day before yesterday." Rae was clearly baffled by his take on the whole situation. "I've never seen you... so sure of yourself." She shrugged helplessly. "I'm learning more all the time," Ridge assured her with a small grin and a shrug of his own. He looked at his sister seriously again. "I know he could hurt me -- but I'm not going to miss this chance because I'm too scared to reach out and try." He looked his sister in the eye. "Besides, right now, we're just having fun." He turned around again and grabbed the tub of cream cheese, spreading some on his bagel and topping it with the fresh tomato. He wrapped it in a paper towel and picked up his mug. Rae watched in silence as he finished putting his breakfast together. Sheila walked into the kitchen at that moment, putting an end to any more discussion. Taking advantage of the distraction, Ridge grabbed his togo meal and waved to both women as he headed out the back door. He shook his head to himself. He did love his big sister, but he wasn't eighteen anymore. He was a grown man who had to make his own decisions. He jogged to his truck and got in. He needed to get to work. *** "Shel, I'm telling you, it was unbelievable." Ridge walked out to the backyard of the house they were building near the UNC-Asheville campus, trying to get away from the interested ears of his fellow construction crew. "It wasn't like that before." He worked off and on as a finish carpenter, and that allowed him the time and money to pursue his custom woodworking and cabinetry business. The crew was all at morning break, sitting around on boxes and canvas folding chairs. The guys were an okay bunch, but they gossiped just as badly as teenaged girls. He'd called Shelby as soon as they'd started break. His friend wasn't a morning person, so Ridge tried to avoid calling him before nine a.m. 47

"That's because you were with a bang 'em and run asshole." Shelby yawned. He never had liked Ridge's college boyfriend. "So, what did you two do?" How to answer that. "Um. It was kind of amazing. Um, I was in the shop yesterday, working on that desk for, you know, those folks in Montford--" "I know about the desk." Shelby could sound so superior when he wanted. "Well, I was just wanting to tell you how I ran into Drew when I went up to the inn to check with Rae on--" "Just tell me about last night. Get to the good parts." Ridge rolled his eyes. "You know, for a guy who has a new date practically every week, you're awfully interested in what I was doing last night." His friend was quiet for a moment. "Maybe I'm looking for something new, you ever think of that?" "You're looking, all right. But the guys you meet just want to hook up - and use you as arm candy." Ridge shook his head. It was the same old argument. Shelby was going to do what he was going to do. "Forget it. Let's not have this discussion again. Especially since I had a hook-up of my own last night." Hard to be self-righteous on that one. His friend sounded relieved when he answered. "Fine with me. Just tell me all." Snorting, Ridge shook his head. "Uh-uh. How about I give you just a few highlights? Or, come to think of it, maybe just the lowlights." Shelby's laughter was infectious, and before too long, Ridge was joining him. *** His phone rang a few hours later, the notes of "Bad Romance" sounding. The painter who was working on the window trim gave him a skeptical look. "What? I like Lady Gaga." It was his new ringtone. Shaking his head, the painter applied himself to his brushing. "Uh-huh. Sure you do. You might want to tone that down around some of the boys, 48

though." Acknowledging the wisdom of that with a grimace, Ridge mouthed "Thanks" as he flipped open his phone. Looking at the number on the caller ID display, he grinned. It was Drew. "Hey." "Ridge! She's here! Man, she looks great." Smiling, Ridge stepped out of the kitchen and walked to a quiet area of the house. "Who's here, Drew? What's going on?" "My Bella. The trailer just pulled in a few minutes ago." Ridge could hear some loud banging in the background, and he frowned. "Where are you? What's going on?" "Listen, come over to the Hidden Springs Stables, will you? Do you know where that is? Can you get away?" Suddenly Drew cursed loudly and his voice sounded far away for a moment. "Goddamn it, let's get her out of there, okay?" Drew's voice came back on with Ridge. "Listen, I've got to go. Come on over, okay?" The line went dead. Ridge shook his head, smiling. Whatever it was, it sure had Drew excited. He headed over to his foreman to ask for an early, long lunch, and to check Google Maps. Twenty minutes later, Ridge pulled into a tree-shaded drive that wound away from the road. He parked in front of a barn-like structure, stopping next to Drew's truck. He got out and walked to the Navigator, spotting the dogs inside, lying in the back. Drew had parked in the deep shade to protect the dogs. All the windows were open, and the temperature under the huge black locust was at fifteen degrees cooler than out in the sunshine. At his soft whistle, Henry and Elsa sat up with a woof. They stuck their heads over the seat back, and he reached in the window to rub and scratch obligingly, crooning to them while he cast his eyes around, trying to find Drew. The main building reminded him a little of Churchill Downs -- at least what he had seen of it on television. He'd watched the Kentucky Derby a time or two and had always liked the gracious style and tall steeples of the clubhouse. It looked like there were some of the same details here. He walked around the corner and noticed rows of black fencing and paddocks, some with horses inside. Ridge had lived his entire life in the Asheville area, 49

and he'd never been around a stable. He knew there were some of the horsey set around, but he'd just never had the opportunity to visit anyone who actually owned a horse. The stable was a strange place, with gorgeous creatures all around. He heard a horse neighing and turned his head to follow the sound. Speak of the devil -- times two. His breath caught as he spied Drew walking next to a huge black horse. Drew had a lead rope and was walking the big animal around the large open area down at the other end of the barn. Ridge started walking toward him, dragging his feet a little, unsure of himself around these large animals. Maybe he'd better keep out of the way. Shoving his hands in his jeans pockets, he hunched over a little as he moved forward. Drew turned at the far end of the barn and headed back along the building. The horse followed alongside, its head nudging the big man as they walked. Drew spotted Ridge leaning against the barn building, and a big smile lit his face. Ridge found himself responding helplessly -- he had a feeling this man didn't smile that often. "Hey! Come and meet Bella. Isn't she gorgeous?" Drew stopped walking and turned his face up to the horse, whose nose came down to rub against his cheek. Ridge thought the moment was beautiful -- they were a pair, the huge black horse and the big muscular man, nuzzling each other. Drew chuckled at the horsey kiss and turned his head. The turquoise gaze did a quick down-and-up, stopping for a brief second at Ridge's crotch. Ridge felt his cock twitch at the look. Just then, Bella nudged Drew with her head, demanding his attention, clearly sensing she was no longer the center of his universe. Snorting in acknowledgment, Drew turned back to her. "Okay, okay, already. I'm right here, baby girl." Hearing Drew refer to the giant animal as "baby girl" made Ridge smile. "You're kidding, right? Isn't she a little big to be called 'baby girl'?" He halted a few steps away, not wanting to get anywhere near those huge feet. Good God, the horse was way taller than Drew -- her majestic head topped his lover's by half a foot, at least. 50

"Nah, she's my baby girl, all right. She's only five." Drew just then noticed Ridge hanging back. "Come on, sweetheart. She won't hurt you." He gestured with his free arm, holding out a hand in encouragement. Ridge sidled over slowly, nervously eyeing the big dark eyes that watched him. Smiling, Drew pulled Ridge close, then raised their joined hands to Bella's nose. "Let her smell you so she can get to know you. Say hi to her." Ridge felt the velvety softness of Bella's nose against his fingers; her soft breath blew over his skin as she scented him. He'd never felt anything quite so soft and silky -- well, except maybe the skin of Drew's cock, he thought with an inward grin. "Hey, girl," he said softly. She really was beautiful, he acknowledged. Her eyes had long lashes, and were exotically slanted. Her ears were swiveling as he petted her, and he thought she must be listening to everything around them. Then Bella tossed her head and he jumped, nestling closer to Drew. Drew hugged Ridge's body close to his, his hand sliding for a moment down to Ridge's ass. "Easy, there, she's just getting rid of flies. She won't hurt you." He turned to start walking again, leading Bella with his right hand and motioning with his left. "Come on, walk with us. She still needs to stretch her legs a bit after that long ride." They walked with Bella for about a half-hour, taking her around the strange stable, letting her get used to the new sounds and smells. Ridge received a short primer about horses, the care and stabling of the big animals, and more. Ridge learned that Drew had been riding for over fifteen years and had owned horses for the last ten years or so. It was one of his few passions, it seemed. "Tell me again what kind of horse she is? Why is she so big?" "She's an American Warmblood; that's a cross between a draft -- in this case, a Percheron -- and a thoroughbred. You know, like the racehorses. The drafts are the big breeds -- and since I'm a big guy, I wanted a big horse, and I wanted a good temperament." Drew ran his hand up under her mane, rubbing her arched, muscled neck. "She's a sweetheart." Drew looked at Ridge, who was staring at him, smiling as he waxed enthusiastic about his horse. "Now that she's here, I can ride both of you." "Drew!" Flushing hotly, Ridge quickly looked around to see if anyone 51

was standing near them. With relief, he saw that they were well away from any other humans at that moment. "Jesus!" Taking a deep, shuddering breath, he stared at the ground, unsure of himself. Drew's boldness both thrilled and unsettled him. "What?" It was a stretch for such a tough-looking guy to sound innocent. Releasing a huffed breath, Ridge looked around again, a quick darting glance. "Somebody might hear you." "Hey. I kept my voice down." "This is North Carolina, you know. Even though this part of the state is fairly gay-friendly, um, you might want to watch it. This isn't Chicago." Frowning, Drew gave him a look. "I know that." "Yeah? Well, you better stick to hugging your horse." "Fine. Harsh my mellow, why don't you?" Drew jerked his head to the side. "Come on. I want to put her in the turnout." Ridge followed, keeping off to the side, away from Bella's hind feet. "Look. It's just that, um, well, don't they have macho stable guys around here?" He watched as Drew led the big mare to a shady paddock. Snorting, Drew unlatched the gate. "Yeah, maybe. But I've met my share of riders who are in the club. Danny -- now there was a real prince." Inside the gate, Drew removed Bella's halter, then gently rubbed her muzzle. "Go on, girl. Relax." "Who's Danny?" Shrugging irritably, Drew closed the gate and started walking to the barn. "Just some asshole who thought he could get away with screwing around on me." He waved toward the stately building. "I'm going to check my tack. C'mon." It took Ridge's eyes a few seconds to adjust to the darkened interior of the wooden building. Sniffing, he glanced around. There was most definitely an animal smell, but it was clean and earthy, layered with the scents of wood shavings and hay. The aisles had concrete floors and the stalls were built with what his experienced eye noted was tongue-in-groove cypress, with metal bars topping the wood and a half-gate at each entrance. Huh. As highend inside as outside. Turning his head, he spotted Drew disappearing into a room halfway 52

down the aisle. He walked in behind his cranky lover. There were saddles and other horsey stuff everywhere. "Wow. I haven't seen this much leather since the time I was at The Exit." At Drew's suspicious look, he grinned crookedly. "It's a leather bar up in town." "You've been to a leather bar." Drew's skepticism was obvious. How to answer? "Um. Well, Shelby -- that's my friend -- and I were goofing around one night and, um, we kind of dared each other to, well, go inside." He lifted his shoulders in an awkward shrug. "Uh-huh." Drew bent down and grabbed a large moving box, setting it on top of a big wooden trunk. "And how'd that go?" "Uh." Ridge rolled his eyes, grimacing. "Okay, we were stupid, all right?" "You were fresh meat, you mean." Drew ripped open the tape along the top of the box, then began pulling out packing material, tossing it on the floor. When he pulled out a big, black saddle, Ridge reached over to help him work it clear of the cardboard. Ridge ducked his head and made a face. "Yeah. We were." He could feel his cheeks burning. "I can just picture it. You had to stand out like a sore thumb." Drew set the saddle on a rack, then came to stand close to Ridge. "Pretty thing like you. Bound to get hit on the minute you walk in the place." He used two fingers to lift Ridge's chin. "Bet you didn't know whether to shit or wind your watch." "Um." He stared into Drew's turquoise eyes. "It was kind of fun for a while, but--" "But?" "But, I just didn't find anybody there that I... uh, that interested me." "How about now?" The fingers left his chin and slid around to cup the back of his head. "Anybody interest you?" "Uh-huh." He whispered it just before their lips met. They pressed together, then back, tongues tangling for a brief moment. "Somebody for sure does." Smirking briefly, Drew kissed him again, hands dropping down to grip his ass, pulling him in tight. 53

"Ah-hem." A throat was cleared nearby. Drew tensed, cursing under his breath. He pushed Ridge back a couple of paces. Ridge blinked in confusion. He looked over to see a man dressed in riding gear standing in the doorway, grinning at them. "George." Drew's tone was short. He took another step away from Ridge. "I thought you were in the arena." His tone was accusing. Guh. Ridge shuffled his feet, a little put off and not quite sure what to do. The current of Drew's anger was flowing over him. "I was." George's voice was smooth, with the faintest of accents. "Well, well. So who's your friend?" He moved into the tack room, his smile kind. "My friend was just leaving." Voice sharp, Drew stared at Ridge, his intent obvious, an imperious eyebrow raised meaningfully. Ridge darted a quick look under his brows at the stranger, then at Drew. What the hell? His stomach clenched at the hard, closed look of Drew's face. Okay, then. Turning away, he walked around the newcomer, shoulders hunched. Shoving his hands in his front pockets, he trudged slowly back to his truck. Asshole. *** "That was unkind, my friend." George's voice was soft. "Stay out of it, George." Drew eyed the other man, pissed at himself. He knew better than to be caught unaware. Especially in an area where he didn't know anybody. Except George. "Just stick to training my horse. That's all I need from you." He and George had an unwritten understanding, gained after they'd knocked heads a few times back in the beginning. George knew damned well that Drew liked to keep his private life just that -- private. George watched him closely. "I've never known you to bring anyone you're involved with to the barn." The trainer pondered for a moment, and Drew gritted his teeth as he watched George thinking. He could almost hear the wheels turning. "Ahhhh," Even after twenty years in the States, George could still sound very European. "This one is important, yes?" Drew turned sharply away. "Just stay out of my business," he repeated. 54

Chapter 7

When you feel dog-tired at night, it might be because you growled all day long. Ridge Huntington "There. That ought to do it." With a satisfied sigh, Ridge put down the sander he'd just shut off. His dusty fingers flipped up the safety goggles he wore, then pulled down his particulate mask. A reluctant smile formed on his lips as he smoothed a hand over the wood slab he had been working, appreciating the complex edging. Finally. He'd gotten the curved edge of the desktop just the way he wanted it. There was certainly plenty of work to keep him busy, if his mind would just stay focused on the job. But damned if it didn't circle back to a certain son of a bitch named Drew Cunningham. Grunting in disgust at his tendency to obsess, he stretched and twisted his back, trying to release the tension in the muscles. He still had a repair to do in the inn's kitchen as soon as he finished this section of his desk project. His customer wasn't going to wait forever, and Rae could be just as demanding when there were problems at the inn. God, he was tired. Some days he just wanted to go back to bed. Instead, he heard a scratching at the shop door, and he turned his head toward the sound. Trudging over, he looked through the glass, shaking his head and snorting slightly. Henry stood there, staring up forlornly. The dog uttered a low whine. Ridge pulled open the door and Henry wandered inside. "You are a piece of work. Where's your girlfriend, huh, buddy? Did she leave you all alone?" He crouched down to rub the shepherd's silky head, scratching behind the big ears. "You're not the only one, my friend." He was rewarded with a doggie groan, Henry leaning into his hand for more. He'd been trying to concentrate on his woodworking this evening. In addition to the desk he was building, he had a custom bar cabinet to finish, and that was due in a couple days. That piece was going to end up in the man-cave Ridge had built for Tommy Braden, a friend of Tony Lopez. He'd 55

gotten several referrals from Tony, and they were definitely helping the cash flow of his woodworking business. He worked on his projects when he wasn't working for Tony, and he got a lot of things done in the evenings and on the weekends. But, he'd lost work time over the last couple of days because of his wild night with Drew and then the cruel dismissal at lunchtime. He'd spent last night drinking beer, sitting on his stairs, and talking to himself. Now, he needed to get back on course and concentrate on his work commitments. "That's what pays the bills." He grunted again, standing up. What the hell was Drew's problem? Why had Drew acted like that yesterday? It was just a kiss -- and they'd been hidden in the tack room, for crying out loud. Who was that guy to make Drew react like that? Hissing to himself in disgust, he put his goggles and mask back on and bent his head over the worktable, determined to finish. He needed to see Drew again to get to the bottom of things. And he would find him, sooner or later. *** Drew assured himself that he wasn't a fifteen-year-old with more hormones than brains. Or, uh, that he usually wasn't a moonstruck teenager consumed with infatuation. He honestly didn't know himself when he was around Ridge. He could stay cool and calm in the most trying of circumstances, and certainly had, especially the last few years working in the mayor's office. With all the backstabbing jerk-offs around him and his father, he'd had to be on his toes every moment. Now, though? Now was a different story. Maybe I'm just making up for lost time. Drew smiled grimly to himself. That has to be it. And the clusterfuck with Danny had put him off guys for quite some time. Well, it had to stop. Right now. He was going to meet with Tony Lopez and get started on his new job. He'd just pick one of the damned houses he'd seen and buy it. What difference did it make anyhow? Yesterday, when he'd gotten back to the inn, he'd sent Henry home to Ridge. He hadn't wanted -- or needed -- any reminders of his hot young lover. Uh-uh. He needed to control this... this obsession. He needed to 56

remind himself why he was in North Carolina and quit thinking with his dick. The meeting with Tony Lopez went surprising well. Drew had been prepared to be taken on sufferance and tolerated, but, after spending an hour with the man, he was pleasantly surprised to find that he liked Tony. "I'm amazed at what you have going on here. The fact that you've been able to create a marketable product and continue to sell it is something to be proud of." Tony's company had been successfully building and selling lowercost homes in and around western North Carolina for two decades, and the entrepreneur now wanted to develop mid-size rental and condo projects. Tony was quite candid with him. "Drew, I've done most of this myself over the years. I've added some help here in the office -- my finance guy to help me run numbers on new deals, an office admin. But I'll tell you the truth. I know that I need more than that if I'm going to grow this company. I've been trying, but... I'm an entrepreneur. I know that. That's what has made me successful -- but it's also what holds me back. I've talked with management consultants from time to time, and they tell me the same thing, over and over. When your dad called me, it all came together for me. It's time I listened to the experts -- and you're just the man I need to move forward." They talked for quite a while about the economy in general, the market in North Carolina, and, most specifically, what Drew could bring to Tony's company. Drew looked at Tony for a long moment. "Tony, I have to say I'm impressed by what you've done here." Tony chuckled. "What -- you thought you'd be seeing tarpaper shacks and old pickup trucks on concrete blocks?" Coloring, Drew nodded sheepishly. "I guess I did come with some preconceptions." "Eh, don't worry about it. I was the same way when I got here. I'm from Philly, and this was quite a change for me, too." Hearing that, Drew relaxed completely, and the two men talked about the big city versus the smaller towns, comparing their stories and misconceptions. "You wouldn't believe what I discovered my first week here. Have you 57

ever heard of livermush?" Drew stared at him, sure that Tony was pulling his leg. "What?" "Livermush." Tony nodded. "It's pig liver and parts, pan fried." "Uh. Eww?" Shaking his head, Tony grinned. "Uh-uh. It's actually really good. It's great at breakfast." Drew was going to reserve judgment on that one. "I'll take your word for it." He couldn't help but grin back. They agreed that Drew would come on board immediately as head of operations -- to work on managing the company in the tough economy and targeting its growth, while Tony continued to look for deals, find financing options, and bring work into the company. Right then, Tony was targeting some of the government programs that were part of the economic recovery efforts. At the end of the meeting, Drew was satisfied that he could contribute his strengths of organization and business acumen and still learn from Tony what he didn't know -- how to bring real estate deals to fruition. "One more thing, Tony. I've been looking for a house and have a few possibilities. I'm going to decide very soon, but I might need a day here or there once I get it all figured out -- to close and move." "Not a problem," Tony assured him. "Just keep me informed. Do you have any questions about the area or need any help with locations?" Drew showed him some listing pages. "Well, I was looking at these three locations. I've been by the houses, and to be honest, nothing has excited me so far." Drew asked some questions about transportation, area amenities, and the like, and got Tony's opinions on the best areas, the places to avoid, and the best ways around the city. They walked out to his truck together. Tony spotted Elsa in the back when her head popped up. "Whoa. Big dog." He smiled and put his hand out for Elsa to sniff. "Yeah, she is, but she's a sweetie." Drew smiled slightly as he watched the big shepherd make friends with his new boss. "I just need to make sure I find a place with a fenced yard for her. Now that I've got a couple of extra days, I think we'll spend that time driving around and finding the right place." 58

"How are things at Huntington's? Are you comfortable there?" Tony rubbed Elsa's head one last time before turning back to Drew. Stiffening at the thought of Ridge and the inn, Drew tried to keep his face noncommittal. "Yeah, it's fine. Thanks for recommending it." Tony smiled. "I like those two kids. They've worked really hard since their dad died eight years ago. Their mama took off when they were young, so they've had it rough." He shook his head admiringly. "They've done a nice job with that old place. And that boy is quite a craftsman." Drew decided it was better to just nod and keep quiet. His new boss held out his hand with a grin. "Well, I've got to get out to the jobsite. We'll see you on Monday. And you let me know if you need anything before then, you hear?" Sighing quietly in relief, Drew smiled back faintly and shook Tony's hand. "Thanks, Tony. I'll call you if I need anything." *** The following week, Ridge devoted all his free time to his woodworking. Getting behind on his delivery timelines was not what he'd planned. He had a retro 1950s desk to finish, as well as a new order for a reception counter at a luxury spa that was opening in a month. God! How had he gotten so off track? Each afternoon when he got home, he locked himself in the shop and knocked out the work. The one bright spot of the entire week had been The Encounter. On Sunday evening, Ridge had just returned from delivering the custom bar to Tommy Braden's man-cave. Parking near his shop, he heard all kinds of commotion near the inn building as he got out of his truck. It was the edge of twilight, with a purple sky and a faint glow in the west providing some illumination. His sister's voice caught his attention, and he shot a glance over at the back porch of the inn. Rae was standing at the bottom of the steps, her arms waving around. Drew was snarling at her while trying to control a dancing, whining Elsa, who hopped around at the end of the leather leash, sneezing and huffing. "What in the world is going on?" As Ridge approached, his nose started burning. "Oh, my God." He covered the lower half of his face with his hand 59

as he looked at the other two. "Skunk." He spat out the word behind his fingers. Drew whirled on him, trying to keep Elsa from touching him as he did so. "Yeah! I know! She stinks to high heaven. Christ!" Wide-eyed, Ridge kept his grin hidden as he looked at his sister. Rae was looking flustered, hair falling out of her ponytail, cheeks reddened. "He thinks it's our fault!" Her wail was accompanied by the finger she pointed straight at Drew. "Oh, like it isn't?" Drew was particularly snarky with that one. "How come nobody warned me about this?" Ridge heard him hiss as Elsa brushed up against him, trying to rub off the skunk spray. She'd apparently gotten it on the side of her head and on her shoulder, and she was repeatedly rubbing against anything conveniently close. Including her owner. "Fuck!" Ridge couldn't hold his mirth in any longer, and he burst out laughing, then snorted as he breathed in the skunk stink once again. Choking, laughing, tears leaking out of his eyes from the stench, he bent over, holding his middle. "Hey!" Affronted, Drew stomped a few steps closer, and Ridge immediately straightened and starting backing up. "Oh, no!" Ridge held up his free hand, palm facing outward. "Stay away." He covered his mouth again, both to keep out the stench and to also camouflage his huge grin. Served the arrogant asshole right. "Stay back." Drew just looked at him, helpless. "Well, what the hell am I supposed to do now?" Ridge moved away a few more steps, closer to the skunk-free zone. He dropped the hand from his face. "Oh. You mean... you need my help?" The look on Drew's mug was priceless. Ridge watched closely as Big City Guy realized he just might need some direction from the country folk. One country folk in particular. Huh. Drew's lips tightened as he debated what to say. Elsa sneezed again, drawing his attention down to the wriggling, rubbing shepherd, and he sighed, dropping his shoulders. Dropping the attitude. "What should I do?" "I told him she needs a bath right away." Rae rolled her eyes, safely unseen behind Drew. 60

Shaking his head in resignation, Ridge straightened his shoulders, standing up tall. "Damned good thing Henry's upstairs." He blew out a big breath. "Well, city boy, looks like you're going to need tomato juice and the hose." He looked at his sister. "Rae, why don't you get a couple of the big cans of juice?" He flicked his wrist, gesturing at Drew. "Bring her over here." Turning back toward the shop, he led the way to the hose bibb he'd installed on the side. "The water is going to be cold, but it won't hurt her." Enjoying himself immensely, he looked back over his shoulder, swallowing another laugh as Drew untangled himself from Elsa's leash and began pulling her along. The wooden screen door on the inn's kitchen smacked the frame as Rae disappeared inside. "I'll grab a bucket and a sponge." Letting himself into his shop, he marveled at the cosmic justice that sometimes got handed out. "What are the odds?" He dug around near the stationary sink in his shop. Finding a large sponge, he grabbed a plastic bucket and headed outside. Drew was still standing, looking helpless, near the hose. Elsa was again rubbing on his legs, sneezing. Life was good. Balancing two large cans of tomato juice, Rae walked up to them. "Here. I had to remove the lids with the big can opener, so be careful." The commercial-sized cans were completely open. Ridge took one can and poured it into the bucket he set down. Turning on the water, he wet the sponge, and held it out to Drew, dropping the hose into the grass. "Okay. Here you go." Stupefied, Drew just looked at him. "What? But... but what do I do?" He gestured widely, his unease with his predicament crystal clear. "Uh, other than roadkill, I've never even seen a skunk!" Grunting, Ridge shook his head. "Bring her here." He heard Rae snort with laughter, then heard it turn to coughing as Drew shot a glare her way. Ridge tucked his head down and grinned as he knelt next to the dog. "Easy, girl. I know," he soothed. "It stinks." He tugged Elsa forward, then looked at Rae again. "Will you grab us some old rags?" Jerking his head at Drew, he pointed to the hose. "Make yourself useful. Get over here and wet her down where she was sprayed." Drew complied in silence, seemingly abashed. Hunkering down on the 61

grass, he picked up the hose and gently began wetting down his dog. "Get some juice on the sponge and rub it into her coat." Ridge bit his lip, trying not to smile again as Drew tentatively began rubbing the juice-red sponge against Elsa's shoulder. "You might want to get some more on there and really rub it in." Drew obeyed, bringing up a sponge dripping with juice and applying it industriously to the affected area. He repeated the method several times, spreading the juice thoroughly into the dog's coat. Occasionally, Ridge lifted the hose and rinsed the juice out, sitting back on his heels as Drew started again. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Rae slink back with some old towels, then disappear again quickly. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?" Drew looked sideways at Ridge, his dark hair falling forward on his brow. "Yup." Wasn't even going to try to deny it. Drew didn't seem to know what to say after that. They finished cleaning the dog in silence, and Ridge nodded at the pile of rags Rae had left on the grass. "You can dry her off with those." Getting to his feet, Ridge shut off the hose and grabbed the bucket and empty cans, setting them near the shop door. "You're probably going to need to do this again tomorrow -- maybe a couple of more times, depending on how badly she got sprayed." He watched for a few moments as Drew finished rubbing the worst of the water off Elsa. "I'd keep her in the bathroom tonight, so she doesn't get any of the leftover stink on the carpet or furniture." Drew nodded in silence, gathering up the rags and getting to his feet. Freed, Elsa shook herself violently, and both of them looked at each other, smiling. Remembering where he and Drew had left off the other day, Ridge changed his expression to a smirk. "One more thing." He arched his brows, grunting in amusement. "You're going to want to get rid of those clothes. You stink." Staring at him, Drew's eyes narrowed and his lips pursed. Then, as Ridge watched carefully, the city boy's facial muscles relaxed into a cocky grin. "Is that so?" Dumping the rags on the grass, and toeing off his shoes and kicking them aside, Drew stared at him provokingly. Next came the 62

socks, Drew reaching down to rip them off. The turquoise eyes had a challenging gleam, and Drew's brow was once again at an arrogant angle. Heart starting to pound, breath speeding up, Ridge backed up a step. "What are you doing? "What's it look like?" The black T-shirt was lifted, the muscled belly and chest slowly exposed as Drew pulled it off. "You're outside!" "Uh-huh. You said I stink. You don't want me bringing this god-awful smell inside, do you?" With that, he shoved his jeans down, stepping out of them and leaving them on the ground. The muscled legs were slightly hairy, and the black boxer-briefs showcased one hell of a gorgeous package. Ridge gulped, once again coming face-to-face with how damned hot and attractive Drew was. While he was dazedly trying to absorb the exhibition happening right in front of him, Drew finished kicking away his jeans, and took four barefoot steps to bring them side by side. The aggravating northerner leaned forward until their lips were inches apart. "Thanks for tonight, Ridge. City boy that I am, it was pretty obvious that I was clueless." Drew's tongue slipped out and lined his lips, wetting them, caressing them. Ridge tried to capture the fleeting tongue but was stopped as Drew's mouth closed over his own. The kiss was too short, though, just enough to get his motor started, but then Drew pulled back. The bastard continued moving away, clicking for Elsa. "Come on, girl." As Drew turned back toward the inn, Ridge breathed out noisily at the sight of that incredible ass. Over his shoulder, Drew gave a parting shot. "See you around, cowboy." Chapter 8

He who fights and runs away, lives to fight another day. Drew Cunningham That dog don't hunt. Ridge Huntington 63

Drew's stroll through the lobby in his boxers was the talk of the inn. Most of the staff and a few of the guests couldn't decide if he was just a crazy Yankee or if he should be July in the next Manifest Men Calendar. Ridge was still trying to figure out why he'd let Drew walk away. He couldn't get the man off his mind. And it wasn't like he didn't have other things to think about. He had way too much work to do to spend time mooning around. But he did have one item he wanted to accomplish. He headed inside. "Rae, will you do me a favor?" His sister was at the range, working on stuffed French toast for the guests. "Sure, hon." She looked over her shoulder. "What do you need?" Shuffling his feet, Ridge hemmed and hawed for a second. "Um." He pulled a piece of paper out of his jeans pocket. "Will you give this to Drew?" Pulling the heavy iron skillet off the range, Rae eyed him as she set the pieces of bread on a platter. "Sheila, these are ready." Once the platter had been picked up and Sheila was headed out of the kitchen, Rae approached him. "What's on the paper?" "Um, just a possible house for Drew to consider." He handed the paper to Rae. She unfolded it, looking at it for a long minute. "You sure about this?" She looked up at him, concern wrinkling her brow. "For him?" He nodded slowly. "Yep." *** "God, you're industrious this morning." Shelby yawned. Shaking his head, Ridge grunted in amusement. "Right. Uh-huh." He continued wiping down the wooden mantle. Behind him, Shelby busied himself clanking around in the kitchen. "What are you doing?" Shelby's voice was muffled. "I'm looking for your electric skillet." "Why?" Ridge walked into the kitchen, finding Shelby crouched down in front of an open cabinet. His friend's muscular bulk was taking up most of the space on the floor. Shelby pulled his head back and looked over the door. He grinned, pale 64

blue eyes twinkling. "I was thinking of making pancakes. You in the mood?" Ridge scratched an ear. "Good thing I already got my run in." He nodded, shifting his head from side to side. "Chocolate chip?" Shelby pulled out the large electric fry pan and stood, setting it on the counter. "Don't I always? Although how you can stand that sweetness with the syrup on top of it is beyond me. Blechh." Shuddering, he grabbed a dishtowel and tucked it into the waistband of his jeans. "Go on and finish cleaning. I'll have breakfast ready in a jiff." Opening the pantry cabinet, he reached inside. "I'm thinking of adding applesauce this time. What do you think?" Walking away, Ridge waved over his shoulder. "I don't care what you do with yours, just make mine chocolate chip." He grinned at the grunt of disdain he heard. The bedroom and bathroom were already clean, and he'd gotten through two loads of laundry with just one to go. Sheets and towels, then jeans and shirts, with underwear and odds and ends going last. He didn't mind that part much as long as he could keep moving on the rest of the apartment at the same time. Grabbing the vacuum, he pushed it into living room and quickly ran it over the old wool area rug he'd gotten when Rae had decided it no longer worked in the lobby of the inn. "Okay if I put some music on?" Shelby poked his head around the column at the end of the breakfast bar. "Yeah. Hey, did you download the latest Glee stuff?" "You know it. But I have to start with my favorite." Ridge set his iPod to play in the speaker dock. Before long, both of them were singing along with the "It's My Life/Confessions" mashup. Ridge danced around the coffee table as he dusted. Henry, who'd been lying out of the way on his comfy bed, suddenly barked loudly, jerking Ridge to a halt. Looking over at the door, he spotted Drew staring at him through the door glass, Elsa at his side. He breathed in a shaky sigh, the sight of Drew making his heart pound. His hit-and-run lover was dressed in black jeans that faithfully cupped a sizable bulge and an olive-green T-shirt that showed off a heavily muscled upper body. Walking over to the speaker dock, Ridge swiftly muted the volume and went to the door. Pulling it open, he had to dodge out of the way as Elsa 65

dashed inside. Regaining his balance, he leaned one arm against the open door. "Hey." He'd be calm and cool. No matter what. Drew walked into the apartment. "Hey." He pushed the door shut, then stood there, not seeming to know what to say. Ridge felt those laser-like eyes burn over his chest and crotch. "Whoa. Who're you?" Damn. He'd forgotten about Shelby while he'd been staring at all the eye-candy right in front of him. Shelby had an annoying habit of saying whatever was on his mind. That could get dangerous in front of Drew. "Um. Shelby. This is Drew Cunningham." Ridge gestured toward his silent, erstwhile lover, then turned to look at his friend. "Uh. Drew, this is my friend, Shelby Patterson." Biting his lip, he watched apprehensively as Shelby stepped up and held out a hand. "Heyah." Slowly, Drew gripped Shelby's hand and shook. "Hi." Ridge saw the knowing look on Shelby's face and knew it was going to translate into speech. "So. Come around here often?" Groaning, Ridge covered his face. "Shelby!" What a wise-ass. "What?" For such a big guy, his dipshit friend could sound pretty innocent. Peeking through his fingers, Ridge saw Drew was frowning, lips turned decidedly down. "What business is it of yours?" Uh-oh. That was confrontational Yankee, no doubt about it. "You mean, what business is it of mine that my best friend is letting some asshole from Chicago dick him around?" Christ. Why had he told Shelby what had happened at the barn? He butted in before the chest bumping got started. "Boys! I'm right here." Breathing deeply, Drew gave him a look. Shelby just grinned, obviously glad he'd jumped into the fray. "Look. Drew, come on in. Shelby, you go finish making breakfast." After glaring at Shelby until his pain-in-the-ass pal headed back to the kitchen, he turned back to face Drew, and found a different look on the rugged features. Suspicion. "What now?" 66

"Breakfast?" Sigh. "Yes. Breakfast. As in, my best friend came over this morning and decided he wanted to make pancakes. Is that okay with you?" City boy wasn't the only one who could do pissy. Drew backpedaled. "Oh. Uh. Yeah." Biting his lip, he gazed around, his eyes falling on the two shepherds, who were sharing breakfast at Henry's bowl. "They really do get along well, don't they?" "Is that why you came over?" Drew grunted. "No." His exasperation showed for a second. "I came to talk to you." Taking another step into the apartment, Drew fidgeted, shoving his hands in his jeans pockets. Ridge had to admit it was a bit of a tight fit, and once more his eyes zeroed in on the package cradled behind the zippered fly. "Right?" Jerking his eyes up guiltily, Ridge frowned. "What?" Drew sighed. "I said, I came to take you to breakfast. But, since your friend is already making it for you, looks like you're busy, right?" Still frowning, Ridge thought about that. The same guy who didn't want to be seen with him at the barn now wanted to be seen with him at a restaurant? Was this progress? Yes? "You're asking me out?" "Forget it." "Hold it." He reached out a hand to pull Drew back from the door that the other man had started to open. "Just wait a minute, will you? Good God, you're impatient." Pushing the door shut, he waved at the living room. "Look, why don't you eat with us? Let me just finish putting this stuff away." Ridge gathered up his cleaning supplies, crouching to pile them in the basket. As he stood, he would have sworn that he heard a faint whistle come out of Drew, but when he cranked his head around, Drew was looking toward the kitchen, hands again shoved in those damned tight pockets. Now self-conscious that all he had on was the tiny running shorts, Ridge felt himself blushing as he clutched the basket and headed for the closet near the bedroom door. Quickly shoving the supplies inside, he ducked into his bedroom to grab another shirt. Rifling through his dresser, he paused. Why should he feel selfconscious? This was his home. Drew could stay or go. Smirking at himself in 67

the mirror, Ridge straightened his shoulders and walked back to the kitchen. He brushed arms with Drew, passing him in the doorway to the kitchen. There. That was definitely a deep breath he heard. The kitchen was nicely sized, with the cabinets and appliances to the left, and an eating nook to the right. Ridge had built the banquette and table that filled the sunny corner. The dark blue vinyl upholstery nicely accented the polished medium cherry of the table. Eerily echoing his thoughts, Shelby spoke from the range where he turned the bacon. "Ridge built this whole kitchen. Maybe you didn't know how talented he is." As a kid, Shelby had always loved to poke hornets' nests and anthills. But Ridge wasn't sure if Shelby knew the kind of animal his friend was poking now. Ridge peeked at Drew from the corner of his eye. The frown was still in place, but it was accompanied by a measuring look as Drew gazed around the kitchen. "You built all this?" At least his tone sounded impressed. "Uh-huh." The breakfast smells were making Ridge's stomach growl. "About five years ago, after we got the inn all set." He moved to the cabinet and pulled down dishes and cups. "You want to grab the coffee cups over there?" Nodding to the cabinet over the coffee maker, Ridge started laying things on the table. "Coffee's in the fridge if you want to make a pot." He gave Drew a pointed look. Surprising him, Drew quietly did as he was asked. By the time the coffee was ready, Shelby was pouring the last portion of batter onto the hot pan. "Hey, do you want chocolate chip pancakes like my loony friend over there?" Shelby cocked an eyebrow at Drew, who sat under the window, sipping his coffee. "Huh?" "Yeah. Can you believe it? It's like he's five or something." Shelby was snickering as he flipped the hotcakes. Ridge snorted. "Just ignore him. He likes to complain. There's nothing wrong with chocolate at every meal." Drew's turquoise eyes met his, the stare pinning him where he sat. "I'll take mine plain. And, I have to say, it surely doesn't show on you, believe 68

me." That husky voice ran right down Ridge's spine and ended up somewhere near his balls. His prick sat up and took notice. Down, boy. Ridge slid a little farther under the edge of the table, hiding the tent popping up in his running shorts. Now he wished he'd changed into jeans or something, especially since he saw a knowing smirk on Drew's face. Shelby dished up platters of pancakes and bacon and brought them to the table with a flourish. "So." He slid onto the seat next to Ridge, shoving his friend to the side with a hip bump. "What'd you want to talk to Ridge about?" "Shel. Mind your own business." Ridge pulled a stack of hotcakes onto his plate and grabbed a few slices of bacon. Shoving the platter toward Drew, he motioned with his fork. "Help yourself." "What? Can't I be concerned about a friend?" Shelby's voice was innocence personified. His friend was acting playful, but Ridge knew Shelby was ready to jump to his defense at any moment. "Shelby, I appreciate the concern, but I'm a big boy. Just enjoy your breakfast." He jerked his chin at Shelby's heaping plate. Drew was watching both of them, eyeing Shelby suspiciously and then ogling what he could see of Ridge, zeroing in on the nipple ring with frequency. He seemed to be enjoying his breakfast, since his plate was soon empty. "Want some more?" At Drew's nod, Ridge looked at his troublemaking friend. "How about making another batch?" Shelby gave a long-suffering sigh, but shoved another mouthful in and got up, taking his plate and fork with him to the counter. Watching Shelby set up for another batch, Drew fidgeted a little, lifting his cup for a sip. "I... one thing I actually came over for was to, um, well, apologize for the other day. At the barn." Huh. "Really." Ridge took a sip of his own coffee, buying time. Interesting. "You definitely dissed me in a major way in front of your friend." His drawl was flat with remembered displeasure. "George isn't a friend." With a derisive snort, Ridge gave him a look of fake astonishment. "Huh. That didn't come out right. He, uh, okay, he's kind of a friend..." Ridge propped his elbows on the table, trying not to respond to the 69

snickering he could hear by the range. Drew scowled. "All right!" He plopped his coffee cup on the table, the liquid sloshing near the rim. He blew out a frustrated breath and sent a dirty look toward Shelby. "I've known George for almost ten years; that's how long I've been working with him." He tilted his head to the side, shrugging. "He's how I found the barn here." Ridge rolled his eyes. "Irrelevant, but interesting." "Okay. Okay. I'm getting to it. Christ!" Huh. It was kind of fun watching Drew squirm. Ridge bit his lip. Drew sucked in a deep breath. "Look, okay, I panicked. So, I was an asshole. I admit it. I'm kind of good at being an asshole, if you want to know the truth." When that produced another snigger, he shot a blistering glare at Shelby. "I don't doubt it." Ridge sat back. "Hey, Shel, can you run over to the inn and ask Rae for some of her cinnamon rolls?" Reluctantly shutting down the electric skillet, Shelby sighed. "Okay." He wiped his hands on a towel as he shuffled toward the living room. "I always miss the good parts." Grunting, Ridge did smile at that. "And take your time, will you?" Appearing relieved at Shelby's departure, Drew blew out a breath, then sucked it in again as Ridge stared at him expectantly. "Uh. I... George knows... he... uh, George knows I'm gay, but I never -- I don't normally do that out in the open." A definite headshake accompanied that statement. "Behind closed doors -- hey, that's one thing. And... I'm out to my family and a couple close friends. But -- in public? Well, uh, I don't want to give any ammunition to anybody to use against me." Lips now pursed in speculation, Ridge eyed him. "And how does George know, if you don't..." He gestured with open hands and fluttering fingers. "Damned if I know. He just could tell, I guess. I don't get it. Must be because he's... I don't know... one of those guys from Europe." An angry shrug accompanied that assertion. Covering his mouth at that, Ridge coughed then broke out into open laughter at the truculent look on Drew's gorgeous face. How could he not? "From Europe? That's your answer? How about, maybe George is just 70

smart? You think? Or maybe his gaydar is fully functional? " Drew frowned. The city boy pushed his coffee cup back and forth between both hands. Eyebrows up as he watched the wheels turning, Ridge had to chuckle again. "Forget it. It's not important." He lifted one hand. "So, what now?" It was an amazing feeling, to be confident around Drew for a change. Nonplussed, Drew stared for a moment. "Well, uh... I guess... I could take you back to the barn and introduce you to George." Drew lifted his shoulders in a shrug, his hands coming up and apart in front of him. "That's it?" Ridge almost rolled his eyes again. "Uh. And I..." Drew looked a bit stumped. Ridge shoved his coffee cup away and slid out of the banquette. Having to yank down his short shorts was embarrassing while he was trying to stay in command of the conversation. Shit! He had a wedgie. He hoped Drew wasn't paying close attention as he discreetly yanked on the back of his shorts, but, when he darted a look at his bedeviling guest, he saw that Drew's eyes were glued to everything below his waist. Guh. The tiny grin that now curled those kissable lips fired him up. "I've got to finish another project. I'm going to head downstairs." "Oh." That was disappointment, wasn't it? "Um. Do you want to come down and help?" Eyes sliding back and forth, Drew considered. He looked like he was afraid of what he might encounter. "Relax. I really do have work to do. No skunks, but maybe some raccoons, or, um, badgers." "Badgers!" Drew flattened himself against the back of the banquette seat. "They... they attack without provocation. I saw it on Animal Planet!" Finally laughing out loud, Ridge threw up his hands. "Easy, city boy. Badgers aren't even indigenous to North Carolina. I was just jerking your chain." He shook his head, still chuckling. "I'm gonna shower and change. I'll be ready in five minutes." Still smiling, Ridge headed for the shower. "Badgers. Hah." Chapter 9

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The inmates are running the asylum. Drew Cunningham Real fucking funny. Ridge was a laugh riot. Drew wasn't used to be laughed at... ever. But, still, the man had a certain charm, and that lean, muscled body really did it for Drew. He listened as the water came on in the bathroom, imagining water running down the golden skin, tracing through the treasure trail on Ridge's belly and down-"So. Y'all done talking?" Christ. Shelby had shitty timing. Vexed, Drew looked at Ridge's pal, noting the goofy smile and the annoying look in the light eyes. "Your eyes look like Kirstie Alley's. Anybody ever tell you that?" "Whoa. Them's fighting words, city boy." "Didn't you ever see The Wrath of Khan?" Drew rolled his eyes at the punk. Classic sci-fi. "Little before my time, Grandpa." At that, Drew's head went back and he took a long look at Ridge's friend. Shelby's muscled body and crew-cut blond hair made him look like he might have played for Notre Dame, but the provoking look in the eerie eyes was far more intelligent than that of the average offensive lineman. "What's your problem?" Drew slid out from behind the table. Shelby's mouth turned down at the corners. "My problem? Maybe it's some guy making a move on my friend and then trashing him?" Shelby stepped up to him. "That's between Ridge and me. You can butt out anytime now." He moved closer to Ridge's friend. "Guys. Do we have to do this again?" A pained voice interrupted them, and Drew turned to watch as Ridge walked into the kitchen, clad in jeans and a Tar Heels T-shirt. "Not that I'm not flattered." The sexy brown eyes met his, and Drew felt a heat begin to burn deep in his belly. He did want this man, no two ways about it. He pushed past Shelby to stand directly in front of Ridge, and watched with interest as the other man's gaze dipped briefly, then came back up. He lifted one hand, the fingers going to Ridge's neck, cupping gently. "You should be." He tugged 72

slightly, and Ridge moved forward to bring their bodies together. "I don't normally expend this much effort." With a husky chuckle, Ridge tilted his head and eyed Drew. "Even when you're trying, you still can't help it, can you?" "Huh?" Brushing past them, Shelby sighed dramatically. "He means, even when you're trying not to be a dickhead, you still manage to get the job done." He jerked open the apartment door. "Ridge, I'll see you later." He gave Drew one last look before leaving. "I thought he'd never leave." Drew brought Ridge that last fraction of an inch closer, then covered the firm lips with his own. He thrust his tongue inside, wanting to taste, to own, everything. He couldn't seem to help himself. When Ridge began kissing him back, and he felt the nudge of that pretty cock at his belly, his own dick went from half-hard to full mast right quick. "Mmm. I taste chocolate." With a dazed smile, Ridge leaned back to look at him. "Uh-huh. Just might get you hooked on chocolate chip pancakes." "I don't know about that." Their lips met again. "But I sure am getting hooked on something." He gripped Ridge's ass with both hands, rocking their hips together, rubbing and grinding. Ridge met him halfway, moaning softly, kissing him wildly, before breaking off and shoving away. "Stop. Stop. I've got... I've got to get to work. I am so far behind." Ridge was panting softly, inching backward. "You coming? Or do you have something else to do?" God. Payback was a bitch. "Uh. Yeah. I can come down for a little while." He looked down at the toes of his Ropers for a second. "You don't mind me being in your space while you're working?" Ridge's response was gratifyingly quick. "No! Come on. I want to show you what I'm working on." Maybe he wasn't being dicked around after all. Letting the dogs dash past as he got to the door, Drew stepped up the pace as he followed Ridge outside. Downstairs, Drew found himself impressed once again at the degree of ability represented by the works in progress. Ridge wasn't just a carpenter; he 73

was a craftsman. Detailed carving graced many of the pieces around the shop, while others were simpler, refined in the mission style -- an armoire by the window, a library table with a dovetailed wood block design in the middle of the room. Ridge led the way to the project of the day, a 1950s executive desk with a curved front line and tapered leg. "Here it is. I've had this sucker in the works for almost three months, and I need to deliver it today. I've got to set the hardware and the drawers and double check everything." Drew got waylaid as he spotted another table near the desk. "Is this all hand-dowelled?" Holy cow. "Uh-huh." Moving to the workbench, Ridge laid pieces of drawer hardware on a cloth. Drew's eyes widened as he ran a hand over the edge of the table and down the leg. "You do everything by hand?" He looked over at Ridge with new respect. Grabbing a screwgun, Ridge grinned at him. "Well, not everything." He held up the tool meaningfully. "I also use my belt sander when I need to, but I try to do as much as I can the old way while still producing things at a faster pace than they did two hundred years ago. I match the wood grains myself -- that makes a big difference in the final product. Want to hold this for me?" He nodded to the first drawer. "This is amazing." Picking up the drawer, Drew delicately set it in front of Ridge and held it while Ridge set the pull on the face of it. "The ends are dovetailed." He marveled at the construction that didn't require any glue or fasteners to hold the sides together. "Uh-huh." He could see that Ridge wasn't really paying attention. All that focus was directed solely at the precision craftsmanship. Lips turning up at the edges, Drew obligingly held all four drawers, then assisted Ridge in sliding them into place and checking the movement. Two hours later, Ridge declared the desk was ready. He ran the polishing cloth over the surface one final time before standing back, and shoving the cloth into his rear pocket. "I'm going to wrap it now and get it set to put on the truck. Then I've got to call Shelby to help me." "Let me help you." The words were out before he could stop them. 74

Drew could see he'd surprised Ridge with the offer. The blond's brows went up and a skeptical look crossed the whiskered face. "Seriously." Doubt dripped from the word. Couldn't he be nice on occasion? "You don't have to make it sound like I don't normally try to help people." Did he sound defensive? Jaw pushed out, Ridge looked him over. "Um. Well. I didn't know you were a Boy Scout." Grunting, Ridge moved to the plywood storage shelving in one corner of the shop and pulled down a couple of quilted moving blankets. Tossing one to the side, he popped one open to spread over the desktop. Drew lurched forward and pinned Ridge to the desk, his weight pushing Ridge forward over the blanket. "I'm not a Boy Scout. I thought you would have figured that out already. Spread 'em." He heard a low moan as he used one foot to kick Ridge's feet apart, then muscled his hips in tight. Grinding in, he circled both of the blond's wrists and slid the lean arms out to the sides. "Hold them there." He reached around and quickly undid the button and zip on Ridge's jeans, yanking the denim placket open. Ridge made a growling sound, and his hips shoved backward, making room for Drew's hands to reach inside. "Oh. Um. Yeah." Not at all slow on the uptake, Drew dipped both hands in, the right one taking possession of the pretty cock he found and the left cupping a nicely furred set of balls. He tugged and rubbed with one hand and caressed and rolled with the other. "I don't think they want the Boy Scouts doing this, do they?" Moaning, Ridge dropped to his elbows, pushing his ass further into Drew, and letting his head hang down. "Ungh. They should. They... oooh, you could get a merit badge for this." He couldn't help but laugh breathlessly at that. "Maybe -- maybe I'll check that out." Hips rolling, fucking into Drew's hands, Ridge chased gratification with gusto, and Drew gave it stroke by stroke. Ridge's body was heating up Drew's, transferring through his hands and his hips, sending his own temperature soaring. He could feel his own need building as he controlled Ridge's enjoyment, doling out the pleasure. He rocked deeper into the crease of Ridge's ass, rubbing, his dick constricted in his jeans. 75

"Oh, God, yeah. Keep it -- ungh -- right there," Ridge panted. "Sure thing, baby." Drew moved his hands and hips faster, urging Ridge on with his body and his sounds. Hands and arms splayed across the blanketed desktop, Ridge dropped his head all the way down, moaning now, hips driving. "I'm, God, Drew, I'm going to--" He stopped short, body jerking as he came. Drew had Ridge's dick pointed at the desk, and he jacked it fast, trying to coax out all the fluid that he could. "That's it. There you go." God, that was so sexy. Ridge was so sexy. Ridge laid his head down and rested the side of his face on the moving blanket. With a big, long sigh, his arms slid forward and draped over the edge of the desk. Drew ran the flat of his hand along the muscles on Ridge's back, savoring the strength contained there. He needed to come, but for the first time in maybe forever, he was more concerned about someone else's pleasure. Making a face, Drew used his other hand to reach down and adjust himself. The zipper on his jeans was carving YKK onto his dick. He had to know something. "Why'd you want to help me?" His voice was low. "Huh?" Ridge stretched his arms out, groaning low. "The house. Your friend's house. Why'd you help me?" The question had been burning in his mind since he'd found the note from Rae several days ago. It was the original reason he'd shown up at Ridge's door this morning. Ridge asked me to mention this to you -- there's a house for sale about two miles up the road; an old friend of Ridge passed on and his family wants to get rid of the place. Ridge thought you might like it for Elsa. Here's the family's phone number and the address of the place. Sighing, Ridge pushed upward, not looking at Drew as he tucked himself back into his jeans. He groaned again, this time in exasperation, as he saw the wet spot on the blanket. "God." Yanking it off the desk, he bundled it up and folded it roughly. Perplexed, Drew watched him. "Aren't you going to tell me? You had to have a reason." Frowning, blowing out a big breath, Ridge turned, holding the blanket 76

at his middle, looking put-upon. "Your dog needs a yard." Brows raised at that, Drew stared. "My dog needs a yard." He pondered for a moment. "Does this mean that you're not pissed anymore?" Snorting a laugh, Ridge walked to the door, setting the blanket on a box. "For now, city boy. For now." Grabbing another blanket from the shelves, he covered the desk once again. "If you're going to help me, the packing tape's over there." He jerked his head toward the bench. Breathing easier, Drew started securing the blanket in place. The two of them didn't say much more, other than quick instructions as they got the desk moved to the overhead door at the side of the shop. Ridge grabbed his truck keys and pushed the opener for the big door. "I'll pull around here. Just a sec." He backed his white F250 SuperDuty into the shop, stopping just inside. Drew, in the meantime, had located the furniture dolly and rolled it next to the desk. Between the two of them, they got the desk on the dolly and pushed it over to the ramp Ridge had set on the tailgate. With a great deal of struggling and cursing, they managed to get the desk up into the bed of the pickup. "Christ! Maybe I should have let you call your nitwit friend after all." Drew wiped sweat off his forehead with the sleeve of his T-shirt. Guzzling from a water bottle, Ridge gave him a look. Lowering his hand, he slowly screwed the cap on. "Shelby is not a nitwit. He just lets you know when he doesn't like something. Or someone." Shrugging innocently, he tossed the bottle to Drew. "Catch." Drew grabbed the bottle one-handed. "Yeah. I see that." He took a drink, finishing the cold water. Maybe it was better to leave that subject alone. "So, where is this behemoth going?" It ended up in the office of a local divorce lawyer, one Seacrest Jones. According to Ridge, the attorney had ordered the desk three months before and wanted it in place before his next big client meeting. The building's maintenance guy was meeting them to give them access. The attorney's building dated from 1870, according to the Historic Register plaque next to the front door. Looking right at home in Asheville's historic district, the frame Queen Anne was remarkably preserved, its graceful facade a dignified, pale gray. 77

They muscled the desk out of the truck and in through the side door, where there was an accessible ramp attached. The architecturally detailed exterior was reflected inside, and Drew noted the beautiful profiles on the floor and ceiling moldings. The maintenance man headed back outside once they were inside Jones' office. There, Drew was surprised at the departure from the historic nineteenth-century look. The furnishings were not at all the same style as the converted home. In fact, the twentieth-century desk was going to fit right in. He turned to look at Ridge questioningly. "This doesn't match the rest of the place." Shaking his head, Ridge steered the dolly to the bay window. "Mr. Jones doesn't like the really old stuff, as he calls it." "The really old stuff." Drew frowned, bothered by that. "You mean, classic architecture and materials, and respect for old craftsmanship? That kind of old stuff?" "Yeah. Exactly." The drawling voice came from behind them. "I hate that shit." Pausing in their efforts to remove the desk from the dolly, both Ridge and Drew turned to look at the newcomer. Brows knit, Drew stared at the... petite?... man in the doorway. He was reminded of the jockeys he'd seen at Arlington the rare times he'd gone to the track for an event: small, wiry, and full of attitude. The guy didn't look more than five foot six, but he radiated an arrogance that would fit a guy much larger. The clothes Jones wore added to the image. The tailored, charcoal, double-breasted suit had to be designer. Danny, the son of a bitch, had managed to drill that much into his head. "Hey, Mr. Jones." Ridge's voice was easy as he leaned a hand on the desk. Seacrest Jones strolled into the office, stopping along the way to run gleaming eyes over each of them. Drew noted that the cocky bastard made sure to let the icy-gray gaze linger on his crotch, which, okay, he'd certainly had happen before. But when Jones' stare seemed to get stuck on Ridge's package, Drew could feel a growl start rumbling in his chest. "Where do you want this, Jones?" He glared at Seacrest. "Whoa, there, big fella. Easy now." Smirking, Jones resumed his pace toward the side window, spinning on one heel to face them. "Call me Sea." 78

"I'll call you A or B if you tell me where you want this damned thing." Drew was definitely out of patience with the swaggering runt. "Drew." Ridge hissed at him. "What?" Drew turned to glare at his lover. "What?" Ridge snarled back at him. "He's my client!" Drew was aware that Jones was amused by their byplay. "I don't give a rat's ass. I saw the way he was looking at you." "Huh?" Jones interrupted. "He means, Ridge, that I was staring at you a little too long, apparently." "Damned right you were." Drew eyed the guy with definite disfavor. "Midget." Chapter 10

Don't go away mad. Just go away. Drew Cunningham "Drew!" Aghast, Ridge scowled. Jones snorted as he unbuttoned his jacket. He leaned against the deep windowsill. "Relax, Tarzan. I'm not hitting on your guy." Leaning both hands on the sill, he looked at both of them. "And it's Sea. Mr. Jones is my old man." Drew set his hands under the edge of the desktop, and nodded at Ridge. "Slide that dolly out, will you?" He lifted his end. Moving quickly, Ridge toed the dolly away from the desk. "Is right here okay, or would you like the desk somewhere else?" "No, that's fine. I want to be able to look out this window," Sea jerked his head over his shoulder, "and see the fine, fine young thing that works across the street." They both looked behind Sea. Drew was mystified. Ridge looked closer, going around the desk to peek over Sea's shoulder. "You mean, over there at the Mysterious Brew?" "Hmm, yes. I've been watching over the last month that I've been here. Big boy -- kind of like you." He tilted his chin at Drew. "Blond brush cut. 79

Ripped." Drew watched as Ridge eyed Sea closely. His lover's body language was beginning to telegraph something. What it was, though, Drew had no clue. Sea was still talking. "The guy comes and goes with no apparent schedule. I'm having a hard time nailing it down." "You usually have trouble nailing it?" Drew couldn't resist. Ridge started coughing, and quickly turned away, excusing himself. Drew raised his brows, staring at Sea proddingly. Surprisingly tolerant, Sea just smiled. "Not usually, Slim." Confidence oozed from the guy. Sighing, Drew jerked a shrug of resignation. "Okay. Whatever." He waved at the blond still hiding over in the corner. "Let's go, Cowboy." He grabbed the dolly from Ridge as he urged him toward the door. "Ridge, don't you want your check?" Sea reached into an inside pocket and pulled out his checkbook. "God." Ridge, looking embarrassed, pulled away from Drew. Turning around, he walked back to the window. "I'm sorry. I don't know where my brain is. You need to look over the desk and make sure everything is the way you wanted it." Drew waited impatiently, but quietly, as the two men conferred over the desk for several minutes. He busied himself checking his email on his iPhone. After finding nothing but a quick hi-how-are-you from his dad, he moved to the weather app, scrolling through to see Chicago's forecast. He scowled at the sunny and seventy-five forecast. July in Chicago shouldn't be that cool. "I have to say, this is quite a piece. You do incredible work, Ridge." Sea's voice seemed honestly impressed. Drew looked at him, just to make sure. The man was running one hand along the glossy finish of the curved end of the desk. He did appear to be earnest. Huh. What do you know? Maybe the guy wasn't just an arrogant schmuck. "I wonder if the stud from across the street will like it, too." Sea eyed them both with a smirk, then waved a hand at the large space of the desktop. 80

Uh, no. He is a prick. Seeing the glare Ridge aimed his way, Drew manfully refrained from commenting. "Let's go," was all he said. He gathered up the blankets and Ridge collected the packing tape debris. "Nice seeing you, gentlemen." Sea's voice followed them out of the office. Shuttling Ridge out to the truck, Drew tried to wrestle the keys from his blond lover. "Let me drive." He was halfway surprised when Ridge didn't argue, just opened one hand and let go of the key ring. "Jesus, what an arrogant prick. That guy's got to have compensation issues. I bet he drives a Lamborghini." Curling his lip at the thought, Drew shoved the key in the ignition and flicked it forward. "Guys like him, always looking to tap the next ass they see." Jerking the gearshift down, Drew took a quick look over his shoulder then pulled away from the curb. "You're awfully self-righteous." Frowning, Drew threw a look at Ridge as they drove along Montford Avenue, past the beautiful city park, heading toward the UNCA campus. "What?" Ridge laid one arm on the open window of the passenger door, and leaned his head back against the headrest as he stared through the windshield. "I said -- you're awfully self-righteous." The southern drawl was a little heavy. "I heard you." Drew took another look at Ridge as he steered the Ford around a corner. It was a busy Sunday downtown, and the streets and sidewalks were crowded with people. "I just don't know why you said it." Drew slowed, coming to a stop at a traffic light, giving him the opportunity to look closely at Ridge. "You ought to look in the mirror, that's all." With a big sigh, Ridge slid down in his seat, crossing one foot over his knee. "I think he's got his eye on Shelby." "What are you talking about?" Taken aback by the accusation, Drew turned toward Ridge, one elbow going up on the back of his seat. "Shelby goes to the Brew all the time. What if he's the guy Sea is talking about?" "Why are you yapping on about that? Who cares about your irritating 81

friend? I want to know why you're calling me self-righteous." Snarling when the driver behind them laid on the horn, Drew faced forward again and stepped on the gas. "I care, you imbecile. And I don't yap. Although I might just crack you one if you don't knock it off." "Look. Your buddy is a big boy. Really big." The guy was six three for sure, and had to outweigh Drew by at least twenty-five pounds, all of it muscle. "He can take care of himself." Drew steered the Ford up a tree-lined road, accelerating as they left the downtown traffic behind. "Golly gee, you sound just like Seacrest Jones. Huh. An arrogant prick, I think you called him?" He could see Ridge staring at him out of the corner of his eye. Grimacing, he acknowledged the accuracy of the hit. "Hey. Okay. Um." Giving Ridge a quick glance, he focused on the road ahead once more. "Why'd you say that about me?" With a sly smile, Ridge rolled his head toward Drew. "He acts like you did when you first got here." One hand lifted, gesturing, then Ridge dropped it back to his thigh. "Huh. You think so, do you?" Drew considered that. Hmm. Okay. He just maybe was going to have to revise his opinion. Perhaps Jones wasn't so bad after all. A thought occurred to him. "You know what I just realized?" Drew threw another sideways look at Ridge. "Jones thinks he's going to initiate that desk by fucking your friend on it." Snickering, he reached out, rubbing caressing fingers along Ridge's whiskered cheek. "I think I just might turn this truck around and let him know we already took care of that." *** Snorting with reluctant amusement, despite the irritation this snarly Yankee could often make him feel, Ridge relaxed further, turning a bit in his seat so he could look at the gorgeous guy. "You think so, huh? How about we just head back and maybe get some lunch?" Ridge stared thoughtfully as Drew shrugged with a grin and turned back to the road. He'd never met anyone quite like Drew Cunningham. He 82

couldn't pigeonhole the guy, or more importantly, the ways Drew made him feel. When they'd first met, he'd been intimidated by the northerner. Then, they'd hooked up and it was hot. Hot, hot, hot. But the emotional yo-yo he'd been on lately had to stop. What the hell was wrong with him? Now, though, right now? He knew this: the arrogant fool needed the tables turned. Drew needed to give over control and learn what it was like to have someone else running the show. Ridge watched the passing scenery and plotted. Minutes passed. He waited until they'd exited I-26 onto Elk Mountain Road and were once again approaching Riverside Drive. As Drew turned the truck down the quiet country road that led toward the Grove, humming a mindless tune, Ridge made a move. Watching him check his driver's side mirror, Ridge reached over and tugged on the Yankee's zipper. Jerked out of his preoccupation, Drew clamped both hands on the wheel and stared at Ridge. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" "You can't tell me you've never done it in a car. Truck. Whatever." Smirking, Ridge slid down and arranged himself over the console, raising the armrests as he did so. "You can't -- it's still -- we're on the road, for God's sake!" Drew's voice went up an octave as Ridge pushed open his fly, sliding fingers inside the cotton-knit boxers to pull out his rock-hard cock. Who's your daddy now? "Shit!" Drew's outburst followed as Ridge took a tight grip and began jacking Drew's cock, rubbing his palm across the head on every upswing. Looking up briefly, Ridge spotted Drew closing his eyes in response to one particularly tight squeeze. "Keep your eyes on the road." This was fun. "I... your hands are rough! You--" Swallowing with difficulty, Drew couldn't seem to complete a sentence. He lifted his hips up into Ridge's grip, groaning a little. "Uh-huh." Ridge smiled quickly. He felt power coursing through his body at Drew's obvious and rapid response. Leaning a bit lower, he blew a hot breath on the silky skin displayed in front of him. A shudder ran through the big man, and those thigh muscles tightened to iron-like stiffness. Emboldened, running his tongue around the base, Ridge continued, tracing the heavy vein underneath. He rubbed his tongue along the underside of the 83

crest, where he knew it had to be very sensitive, delighting in the moans he pulled from Drew. The truck swerved before Drew got it under control again, cursing severely all the while. Ridge grinned to himself again. Oh, yeah. He just hoped that Drew didn't run them into a tree, since he was the one not wearing a seatbelt. His own cock was hard, but he concentrated on getting Drew to lose control. He was on a mission. His ego depended upon it. He wanted Drew to recognize that there were two adults in this game -- not master and apprentice. "I'm going to enjoy this." He whispered the words as he lowered his head. He made love to Drew's cock, worshipping its size and stiffness. Liking the man-smell he found, he pushed his nose into those heavy balls, running his tongue over them. When he finally sucked Drew's cock into his mouth, struggling in his awkward position, Drew shouted out loud. Ridge relaxed his throat, determined to deep-throat his annoying lover. It felt strange at first, as he tried to force Drew's cock deeper. That simply made him gag. Backing off, he breathed heavily through his nose. He'd never been any good at taking it deep. Trying again, he moaned at the feeling of fullness inside his mouth. Drew shuddered at the vibration. The truck came to a sudden, sliding halt, but Ridge refused to stop what he was doing. Drew threw the gearshift into park, huffing and puffing. Twisting his head the little he could, given his mouth was full, Ridge looked up from under his brows and exulted at the sight of Drew with head thrown back. The long throat muscles were convulsing, and the stubborn Yankee's teeth were clenched around gravelly moans. Drew's hips were rising, trying to fuck Ridge's mouth. Ridge worked to get into the rhythm, stuttering around Drew's hardness. He might not have given too many blowjobs, but right now, he felt like he could climb this mountain -- no problem. Easing back down on the silky, hard shaft, he breathed deeply through his nose to relax. Taking his time, he was able to accept a bit more into his mouth. He felt one of Drew's hands come down on his head, and he paused, but Drew was not pushing, not controlling, just caressing. He relaxed even further, more cock pushing down his throat. Determinedly, he swallowed, 84

causing Drew to shout again. He gagged immediately as his lover's hips jerked upward. Pulling back, he felt resistance as Drew grabbed hold of his hair. He stopped, jerking his head to break free. At Drew's uncomprehending stare, he shrugged, bringing up a hand to wipe his lips. "You don't get to fuck my mouth or hang on while I'm doing this." He ignored the loud whine that statement generated. He stared up at Drew, waiting. "Okay!" Drew put one hand on the door and one on the seatback, his hips squirming and his cock waving in front of Ridge's face. "Suck me again, baby -- please! Please!" Okay, that was begging. Ridge smiled to himself, gratified. Rae should see him now, riding herd on their cranky guest. Eww. Wait. Maybe not so much. He moved back over the leaking cock. Slowly working the head down in his throat, Ridge swallowed. God, the feeling was amazing, especially when it generated low moans and grunts. It was almost like when Drew had his ass. He was so full of the big man, he felt like he was being taken instead of the other way around. He sucked harder at the head as he pulled back, then eased down again to the base. He repeated this while Drew moaned and groaned, and he could sense the difficulty Drew had in keeping still. "Please!" Drew's groans grew suddenly louder. Then he grunted several times as he shot his semen into Ridge's throat. Ridge gagged at the amount, unprepared. He pulled back and swallowed desperately, but most of Drew's come leaked out of the corners of his mouth. Drew gave a huge sigh, relaxing into the seat back, eyes flickering open as Ridge used his hand to wipe off the excess. Watching him, Ridge licked the come off his fingers, purring slightly in enjoyment. Drew's voice was guttural, edgy. "You are so hot when you do that." He reached out and ran his hand through Ridge's tumbled hair, pulling at the waves as he did so. "You made me crazy, you know that?" It wasn't really a question. "I almost ran us into the Goddamned boulders back there." 85

Wiping his fingers on his jeans, Ridge noted with amusement that Drew didn't exactly sound thrilled with that. Grimacing slightly at the tight position he'd worked himself into, he pushed away and slid around to the passenger side. Climbing back into his seat, he looked around and saw that Drew had stopped on the shoulder of the river road, in plain view of passing traffic. Good thing it was hard to see inside the taller rig. He relaxed, slouching down, and opened the fly of his jeans. He flicked the buttons deliberately as Drew watched him. Drew gulped, still looking a little dazed, eyes glued to that opening as Ridge fished out an aching cock. "What...what are you doing?" Drew asked stupidly, his voice hoarse. "Mmmmmm, what does it look like?" Toeing off his deck shoes, Ridge propped his right foot on the dash. Then Ridge leaned his head back, determined not to care if a car came by. The truck was higher than passenger cars -- only a tractor-trailer driver could actually see what he was about to do. Taking a deep breath, he opened his legs wider, sliding down a bit more to give himself room to work. He could feel the heat of Drew's eyes on him, and his intention was to give a performance worthy of memory. *** Drew coughed in disbelief as Ridge licked his hand slowly from bottom to top, then began pulling on his cock with that wet hand, his eyes shut and his mouth quirked into a goofy smile. His moans were soft as he pleasured himself. The whoosh of a passing car shocked Drew back into awareness. "Ridge, baby, somebody's going to see you." Ridge nodded unconcernedly. "Mmm-hmmm. Just like when you were getting yours a minute ago." "Yeah, but that was..." That was what? Christ. He could hardly complain when he'd just gotten sucked off like nobody's business in full view of God and country. Cursing under his breath, he stared helplessly, eyes locked on Ridge's utterly sexual display. He didn't know whether to say something else or just watch and enjoy. Ridge kept surprising him; just when he thought he had a 86

handle on the country boy, another fascinating, undeniably sexy facet was exposed. "You like?" The husky voice, accompanied by a sly smile and a moan, sent shivers down his spine. Drew wrenched his gaze back up to Ridge's face, noting the flushed cheeks, the panting breaths, the wet lips. He felt a twitch in his own dick as his lover approach orgasm. Reluctantly, Drew did have to admit that there wasn't anything much sexier than his guy jacking off in broad daylight in the front seat of the truck. His eyes were glued to that hand as Ridge fisted the pretty cock more quickly, back hunching and cries turning to grunts as an orgasm consumed the sleek body. Just then a passing trucker blared his air horn a few times. Drew flipped the driver off as he jerked the Ford back into gear and stepped on the gas, heading for home again. "Jesus Christ, you are one hot little package." Unbelievable. "Anything else you want to do before we get behind closed doors?" Drew was feeling very cranky just then. A wet hand was brought to his lips. "Want a taste?" Chapter 11

Hot as a two-dollar whore on the 4th of July. Ridge Huntington By the time they did get back to Ridge's apartment, Drew's cock was super-charged again by Ridge's teasing. He'd been driven half-mad by Ridge rubbing that come-soaked finger on his pursed lips, softening them enough to be able to push inside. Drew, who'd always been on the receiving end of a blowjob, found himself taking Ridge's fingers inside one at a time and sucking them clean, all the while trying to keep one eye on the road. It was a miracle they got back to the inn in one piece. He pulled to a sharp stop right in front of the stairs to Ridge's apartment, just missing the dogs, who'd jumped down from the inn's back porch at the sound of the truck. He ran around the hood and ripped open Ridge's door, jerking his aggravating, provocative lover from the cab. 87

A couple of the buttons on Ridge's jeans were still undone, but at least the man had tucked that amazing cock back inside. Drew spun his head for a quick look to see if anybody was around, and saw with relief the back of the inn appeared deserted. He hauled the crazy carpenter up the stairs, stopping the dogs from running inside as he muscled Ridge through the doorway. "Baby, you are in for it now." Drew aimed a hard look at Ridge. "You've been playing with me all day. Now it's my turn." He marched Ridge into the bedroom. Stopping at the side of the bed, he stepped back. "Take off those clothes right now." When Ridge didn't move and continued to eye him, Drew stepped forward menacingly. "Don't test me. I'll spank that sweet ass of yours." "Mmmm." Was that a purr? Drew watched as Ridge shoved his hair back nonchalantly and cocked one hip, a challenging look on his face as he waited for a response. "Oh, man, are you ever going to get it." Drew reached forward and jerked Ridge's T-shirt at the neckline, ripping it off his body. Ridge gasped in excitement, shivering at the violence of that gesture. His nipples were hard and the solitary ring quivered the slightest bit with his arousal. Drew tugged that ring, pulling it roughly, eliciting a whimper from Ridge. He was completely focused on the sexy blond's responses. Drew wanted -- had to -- make Ridge obey. He shoved the tight jeans down those slim hips, nudging Ridge backward to the bed, where Ridge fell with a grunt. Drew yanked off the deck shoes with the jeans, throwing them all across the room. The sight of Ridge's cock, stiff and dripping with pre-come, stopped Drew in his tracks. He stared for a few seconds, mesmerized. "Like what you see?" Ridge's tone prodded him to action. He slid one hand down the shaft, tugging firmly, pressing his thumb against the slit. There. That got him a response. Ridge's head went back with a jerk, throat working, a low moan sounding. "Oh, yeah." Damn, it was sweet to have this man respond so quickly. Urged on to new action, he ripped off his own clothes, tossing them behind him. "On your hands and knees. Now." The command was stark -- he knew 88

it; he just couldn't help it. In fact, he gave an assist by pulling Ridge around and thrusting him toward the head of the bed. Ridge fell forward onto his hands. He shouted as Drew branded his ass with a smack, and he dropped onto his elbows, crying out in ecstasy. "Ohmygod!" Another smack followed on the other cheek, and he buried his head in the pillow, his voice muffled as he moaned. Drew was breathing raggedly, his chest heaving up and down at the sight of Ridge's ass presented to him in all its glory. He fixated on the wet, pink opening in front of him. "God, your hole is winking at me." Gusting another breath, Drew bumped his cock forward, just below Ridge's hole, making Ridge squirm, blond head cranking around. The wide brown eyes stared back at Drew, lips working but nothing coming out. Putting a bit of his weight on Ridge's back, Drew leaned over as he opened the drawer of the nightstand and scrabbled for the Astroglide. He quickly lubed up his fingers, tossing the bottle on the bed, his hand gliding over Ridge's cock as it hung down. Gripping again, his hand slid wetly over the silky skin. Moving back, his fingers wrapped Ridge's wrinkled sac, rolling, squeezing. He was rewarded with a grunt, and he moved to the pulsing opening, pushed one slick finger in. What was left of his upper brain was shouting at him to slow down, and he made an effort to be gentle as he twisted his finger around to lube the opening. Managing to nudge Ridge's prostate on his way around, Drew's chest lifted in a satisfied sigh. In response, Ridge whined and spread his knees even wider, then arched his back in plea. "Good God, Drew." He heaved a breath, struggling. "You... guh. Uhn, yes." "You like that, huh?" Drew pressed another finger inside, working that tight hole for long minutes, spreading and relaxing the muscle, pressing deeper every so often, searching again for Ridge's gland. His sweet lover was reduced to sighs and grunts as Drew continued. "Here comes another finger, Ridge. You ready?" Without waiting for an answer, he added lube to his hand and pushed a third finger in, hearing Ridge cry out breathlessly at the invasion. "Unh! Burns..." The sight of Ridge stretching around his fingers was making Drew's dick stiffen even more. "Oh, man." It was all he could do to keep from 89

shoving it forward to claim the prize. Shaking his head to clear it, Drew refocused on the movement of his hand. "Easy, there. Let's just -- okay, let's get you a little more relaxed." Picking up the lube again, he added some more, drizzling it one-handed over his fingers as they moved in and out. He tossed the bottle aside to hold one lean hip, fingers digging in to keep Ridge in place. It wasn't easy, as his wriggly lover's hips were rolling. "Hold still." Ridge groaned in response. "I can't!" Chuckling despite the urgency he felt, Drew leaned forward again, draping himself over Ridge. His fingers continued their work, but his other hand slid up along the lean torso, moving over one muscled arm that held his lover's weight. He planted his hand next to the pillow, lowering his head so his lips were at Ridge's left ear. "You want some of this, you've got to hold still, man." With that whisper, he licked his way around that ear, sucking the lobe into his mouth and nipping. That had Ridge squirming some more, and, with a genuine laugh this time, Drew slid back and smacked his lover again. "Ohh, baby -- that's what you get for playing with me before." Withdrawing his busy fingers, he wiped his hand on his thigh and grabbed a condom from the open drawer of the nightstand. Ripping the plastic, he suited up, two quick swipes of his hand adding slick. Ridge was still moving, rubbing his cock into the bedcover, his knees spread wide, his hips flat. "Gonna." Panting, he shoved past the pillows, one hand grabbing the top edge of the mattress and the other reaching for his dick. "Oh, no, you don't." Grunting, Drew knocked Ridge's hand away. "Get both hands up there. You're going to wait until I shove this dick up your ass and fuck you like you deserve." Adrenaline pumping through him again, he used his heavier bodyweight to hold Ridge in place, Bent over, one hand slapping down on the mattress, he used the other to guide his cock into position. Moving up against Ridge, he set the head of his cock against that sweet hole and shoved forward aggressively. As the head popped in, Ridge moaned loudly and pushed backward, bowing his spine. Both men grunted as Drew thrust in to the hilt, their balls bumping against each other. 90

Drew reached up and set his right hand on the headboard, grabbing hold as he thrust aggressively into Ridge. His left hand moved to circle Ridge's cock, pulling in counterpoint to his strokes. They both moved forcefully, the headboard thudding against the wall with their momentum. "God! Right there!" Ridge's yell became a sob as Drew adjusted his angle and began hitting the same spot. "Jesus." Ridge's ass tightened around him and the sleek back stretched out even more. Drew grunted each time he shoved inward, his movements speeding up as Ridge called out warningly. The tight ass clamped down in orgasm, and Drew shuddered as he tried to keep thrusting. "Ri -- Ridge." He grunted roughly, slamming his weight forward and feeling his balls again smack against his lover's. That was apparently too much for Ridge, and his elbows gave out as he collapsed onto the pillow with a wail. Losing his rhythm, Drew hurried to catch Ridge's waist, managing to keep the muscled butt up in the air. He pushed deeper, digging with short stabs of his dick. Belly clenching and nuts tingling, Drew's hips faltered as his orgasm overcame him, and he arched, groaning low as his balls emptied, filling the condom. Beneath him, Ridge sobbed into the pillow, knees sliding all the way out and butt dropping down. Drew followed, weight covering his lover, legs sprawled between Ridge's. They panted raggedly, sweaty skin sliding together. "God." Heaving a deep sigh of repletion, cock softening as his body began to calm, Drew rested his cheek against a muscled shoulder, appreciating the way he could cover Ridge and touch every inch of the sexy body. He rubbed his hand down Ridge's arm, relishing the muscular feel. "Unh... God... you are something else." His breath sighed out of him again as he said it, and he licked the skin of Ridge's upper back, tasting salt and man. Ridge mumbled into the corner of the pillow, nuzzling his head deeper into the soft down. "What was that?" Drew widened his eyes to keep them open as he tried to understand what his lover was saying. Spitting out a feather, Ridge raised his cheek an inch from the pillow. "You're... heavy. I can't... breathe." Grunting, Drew shifted to the side, flopping over onto his back. He 91

reached for the sheet, trying to tug it up over them. He gave up after a few pulls, unable to drag it out from underneath their bodies. Ridge pushed closer and Drew turned onto his side, one arm sliding over Ridge's back. *** Ridge was once again wakened by Henry, though this time the dog was barking outside. Groggy, he lifted his head, realizing he'd fallen asleep in the middle of the day. He turned at the sound of a groan, a faint smile crossing his face as he watched Drew roll over and bring a hand up to rub one eye tiredly. "Jesus, what time is it?" Drew's voice was cranky. He groaned again as he dropped his hand, his head rolling on the pillow. He scowled at the afternoon sunlight coming in through the bedroom windows. Eyeballing the digital clock on the nightstand, Ridge grunted. "It's just past three o'clock. I guess we've been out for maybe a half hour." He rolled to a sitting position, dragging his legs over the side of the bed, body protesting. He was definitely not used to such vigorous activity, especially the muscles that were crying right now. He was used to working hard as a carpenter, but this... this was entirely different. He grinned slightly to himself as he pushed off the bed. It had so absolutely been worth it. Drew was watching him as he moved around the end of the bed. "Where are you going?" "I'm going to let the dogs in, and then I'm going to fill that big old tub with hot, hot water and soak." Ridge sent a come-hither look over his shoulder as he walked to the bedroom doorway. "You want to join me?" He didn't wait for an answer as he went to let the shepherds in. The two dogs trotted over to Henry's bowls before moving back to him, looking for treats. He grabbed a couple of Greenies and tossed them on Henry's big dog bed. "That should keep you two busy for a little while." Back in the old-fashioned bathroom with its large, claw-foot tub and old pedestal sink, Ridge leaned over to turn on the taps, watching as the hot water gushed into the deep tub. After relieving himself, he wandered over to the linen closet and grabbed a box of Epsom salts; that should help his sore 92

hip and leg muscles. Just as he was about to dump the salts into the water, Drew's hand came around him and grabbed the box. "What have you got there? Let me see what you're putting in the water." "Huh?" Drew smirked slyly. "I worked your ass pretty hard, brat. It might be tender." Ridge blushed at that, feeling embarrassed as Drew stared. After confirming the box contained Epsom salts, Drew dumped an amount in the water. "Now, that surprises me, sweetheart. It really does." He huffed out a laugh as he set the box of salts onto the counter. "You were wild as the wind on the way over here and crazy when we got here. And now you're blushing?" Drew laughed some more as he reached over and turned off the water Ridge had forgotten. Ridge shrugged his shoulders and dropped his head in confusion, rubbing his toe on the tile floor. Truth to tell, he still didn't know what had come over him earlier. Maybe because he'd spent almost thirty years leading a fairly boring life? Voice gentle, Drew held out an arm. "Come on, killer. Let's get in here before it gets cool." Ridge let his hand be taken, and he was tugged forward gently. Drew helped him over the tall rim of the tub, then stepped in behind. Sinking down gingerly, whistling low as the heated water hit his ass, Ridge slowly lowered himself to a sitting position. When he was finally settled on the tub bottom, Drew's strong arms went around him and gently eased him back. The old tub was long enough that they could stretch their legs out, and they both sighed as their bodies relaxed in the hot water. "I could get used to this." Drew's low voice rumbled in his ear. Over his embarrassment at last and finally at ease (he had to confess Drew had been right, his hole had stung a little when the hot water hit it), Ridge smiled to himself. Me, too. Chapter 12 93

Don't go around your elbow to get to your thumb. Ridge Huntington The following Friday, Ridge was putting away his tools when one of the other carpenters poked a head in the doorway, looking for Ridge. Spotting him where he stood at the gangbox, which stored the company's tools and equipment during off hours, the other guy waved a hand. "Hey, Ridge! We're heading over to The White Horse. You going to join us?" The White Horse was a nearby tavern. The crew had been heading there on Fridays since they'd started the job at this location a couple of months ago. "Boss man said he might be there later." Ridge considered the invitation. "Yeah, maybe I will." He hadn't gone with the crew in several weeks. "I've got to finish up here, though. I'll meet you in a few." He nodded to the carpenter and finished closing up the gangbox. He hadn't seen Tony Lopez in a while. It would be nice to talk to him again. Drew had said he'd be tied up for a while the last time they'd talked, earlier that afternoon. The city boy had been close-mouthed about whatever his new job was, hadn't wanted to talk too much about it. He knew Drew had been out to the barn quite a bit to check on how his horse had settled in, plus Drew had been working on plans for the move to the Dugan house. Ridge had been quite satisfied to learn that Drew had indeed wanted the place immediately. The twenty-acre site was a treasure, and it probably would have been snapped up quickly, even in the down market they were experiencing. The two of them had been together a couple of nights at Ridge's apartment. Ridge had gotten dinner from the inn kitchen and a movie from Netflix on one occasion, and Drew had brought takeout on the second. Both times, they'd managed to squeeze in some hot, naked man-love. Ridge shivered with remembered pleasure. Tonight, though, he didn't know if he'd see Drew. And damned if he was going to wait around to find out. Maybe he'd give Shelby a call from the bar and see if his man-panion wanted some company. Half an hour later, Ridge was sitting at a table with three men from his crew. Carrie Underwood was playing from the jukebox on the far wall, and 94

the guys were raucous as ever. They were ribbing each other and laughing while passing around the bar snacks, and sipping their beer. Since he usually went home to work on his projects, he didn't socialize with them too much. Once in a while, though, he did hang out to celebrate the end of another workweek. Ridge usually felt at home with the crew while at work -- although they didn't know he preferred men -- and he really hadn't heard any of them knocking gays. Sure there was the occasional snigger about fags, but there wasn't much that the guys didn't ridicule. Nothing was sacred on a construction site. Nothing. Jack, the carpenter who'd come to get him earlier, leaned over. "So, what's been going on with you lately? You don't usually come out with us on Fridays." Jack was a nice enough guy, Ridge supposed. They worked well as a team on the job. Jack was fairly quiet and did his work well. Ridge liked that because he was the same way. Now, he shrugged easily. "I don't know. Just felt like it tonight. I wanted to say hey to Tony anyway. I haven't seen much of him lately." "Yeah. I heard he brought in a partner or something. Maybe we'll meet the new guy tonight." Jack leaned forward and grabbed a handful of pretzels, then sat back and began munching. Ridge nodded as he took a sip of his draft. "Mmm, this does taste good, I do have to admit." He looked around the bar, taking note of the people around him. The office workers were just starting to come in, since their day ended later than the construction crew's did. He saw some of the guys eyeing the women as they walked in, and he grinned to himself as the women eyed the men right back. He gulped, though, when he noticed one of the newcomers staring at him and smiling. Jack whispered to him. "Looks like you've got a fan, boy." Ridge slid down in his chair and brought his glass to his lips, hiding behind it, mumbling. Grinning, Jack gave him a look. "What?" Ridge peeked over at the woman and saw she was still watching him. She motioned to her friends and they walked over to the crew's table. "Do you boys mind if we join you?" At the hasty nods from the rest of the crew, 95

the three women settled into chairs the men quickly pulled over for them. The woman who'd spoken sat down at Ridge's left, her chair snugged up against his in the tight confines around the table. She was blond, pretty, looked about thirty, and was nicely dressed in a jacket and skirt. "I'm Sharon." She smiled nicely. "This is Bailey, and that's Rhonda." Sharon gestured in turn to the two other women. "We usually try to come in on Fridays, but I don't think I've seen y'all here before." She smiled as she turned back to Ridge, directing her last comment to him. The rest of the crew snickered into their beer, and the other two women giggled at the construction workers. Blushing, Ridge took another drink of his beer, downing half of the glass while he tried to think of something to say. He never knew how to act around the women who came onto him. He didn't do anything to attract them, yet they wouldn't leave him alone. That was one of the real reasons he didn't socialize with the guys much after work. They liked to play in the bars and Ridge didn't. Simple as that. If he was going to play, it would be when he was out with Shelby, and even then, he was picky. Half an hour later, he had finished his second glass and was seriously considering leaving before Tony arrived. Sharon was playing with his hair and wouldn't stop talking to him. "So, what do you think? Should we get out of here... maybe head to my place?" Ridge kept taking refuge in his beer glass, but he didn't know how much longer he could keep that up and still drive home. "Hey, guys. How's it going with y'all?" Tony's warm, gruff voice rose slightly over the music. Jerking his head around to the left, Ridge saw his boss standing near the table. His eyes lit up as he spotted Drew standing next to Tony. He hadn't known the two men knew each other. Whoa. Is he the new partner Jack mentioned? The beginnings of a smile turned down as he saw turquoise eyes glaring back at him. Suddenly noticing she had lost Ridge's ear, Sharon canted her head around Ridge to look at the newcomers. Ridge watched as Drew shifted his 96

icy gaze to her. In the background, he could hear as Tony chatted casually with the crew. What is going on? Ridge felt a pang deep inside as he tried to figure out what had Drew so pissy. Did he not like learning that they were working for the same company? Was he afraid the men around them would learn about them? "And guys, I want you all to meet my new head of operations... Drew Cunningham." Tony gestured with his hand, waving Drew up closer to the table. For an electric moment, Drew's blazing eyes stayed on Ridge and Sharon before he blinked and stepped up next to Tony. Released from that hard stare, Ridge watched as the other man shook hands with the crew and chatted briefly with each guy, then nodded his head casually as he was introduced to the three women. When he got to Ridge, he spoke briefly to Tony. "We've met." Tony nodded in acknowledgment, not noticing that Drew didn't actually speak directly to Ridge. But Ridge definitely noticed. "That's right, I'm sure you've seen each other around at the Grove." Tony turned back to the men. "Drew is staying at the Grove until he can move into his new house." While the crew sized up Drew, clearly trying to figure out what he'd be like to work with, Ridge eyed his lover. He wasn't sure what the hell was happening, but something was. He frowned. What the fuck? They hadn't spent much time together since Sunday. Both of them had been busy. Other than the two evenings in his apartment, in fact, Ridge hadn't seen Drew come and go. Right now, Drew was answering a couple of questions about where he'd lived before and what he'd done for a living, but his answers were brief and fairly uninformative. He hadn't looked at Ridge again since that first moment after he'd come into the bar. What the hell was his problem? "He doesn't look very friendly, does he?" Sharon leaned toward him to whisper. Pushing back away from Sharon a bit, he could only shrug. It was true. Drew didn't look like the most approachable man in the bar. 97

Just then, Tony spoke again. "Drew, what can I get you?" He was motioning toward the bar as he pulled out his wallet. Drew stepped back and held up his hands briefly, palms out. "No, thanks, Tony. I can't stay. I just noticed what time it is... I've got to get out to the barn." As he spoke, he turned toward the door. He looked back to wave briefly at the table, then turned to look at Tony. "I'll see you on Monday morning." Tony looked confused at Drew's abrupt departure before his attention was caught by a question from Jack. Ridge pushed back his chair, determined to follow Drew and find out what was going on. He dodged Sharon's outstretched hand as he stood, pulling money out of his pocket to lay on the table. "Y'all, I've got to get back to my shop. See y'all Monday." Jack looked knowingly at him, smirking at the disappointment on Sharon's face. Ridge smiled back, knowing Jack thought he was escaping the eager woman. He shrugged in a what can I say? manner, then headed out of the bar with a wave. Hurrying out the door, he spotted Drew just pulling out of the parking lot. Cursing softly to himself, he jogged to his truck and jumped in, starting it up. Jerking the gearshift into drive, he stepped on the gas, heading south on the road behind Drew, buckling his seatbelt as he went. He caught up to Drew quickly, but he wasn't sure if the other man knew he was there. The early evening sun was still shining brightly and the windows of the Navigator were tinted, preventing him from meeting Drew's eyes in the rearview mirror. He managed to stay a few car-lengths behind as Drew headed east to cross the river. Expecting the city boy to keep heading in that direction for a couple more miles, he almost ran into the back of the other truck when Drew suddenly slowed to turn. Puzzled, Ridge quickly turned to follow, frowning again when Drew turned onto Riverside Drive. His frown switched to a smile when he realized Drew was headed back to the Grove. A few minutes later, he pulled to a stop at the Grove, and spotted Drew just entering the inn's doorway. He threw his truck into park and hopped out. "Drew!" Blowing out a frustrated breath as Drew disappeared up the stairs, he followed quickly. 98

He reached Drew's room and banged on the door, starting to get pissy himself. Through the door, he heard Elsa's soft woof. When the door was suddenly yanked open as he raised his fist to bang again, he jerked back slightly in surprise. "What the hell's going on, man?" He stared at Drew, trying to figure it out. "I was calling you as you came upstairs. Didn't you hear me?" He pushed past Drew, coming to a halt and swinging around near the end of the four-poster bed. "And I thought you were going to the barn..." Elsa lay just beyond the bed. The room was fairly spacious as inn rooms went, but right then, it didn't feel that large as Drew and Ridge stared each other down. The big shepherd started to move, stretching from her afternoon nap beneath the window. "Well?" Absently, he reached down to pet the shepherd as she stood up. Drew remained motionless for another few seconds before shoving the door closed, and stalking to the mini-bar. Pulling it open, he grabbed a bottle of water, then swung back around to face Ridge as he cracked open the seal. "Well, what?" He threw back his head and gulped down half the bottle, then wiped his lips with the back of the hand that held the bottle. He stared challengingly at Ridge. "You looked busy in the bar. I'm surprised you're back so soon." Surprised and confused, Ridge looked back at him. "Huh?" "Don't you want to go tap that?" Drew waved a hand in the air as he sneered the words. "And here I was thinking it was just guys you hadn't fucked before now." The insulting words hung in the air a few seconds before Ridge's brain processed them. "What?" He shook his head slowly. "Are you accusing me of something?" His voice got a little louder. "And why would you think that?" He looked at Drew in disbelief. "So, now you're saying I was getting it on with that chick in the bar back there? Is that it?" He stepped closer, ignoring the slight growl from Elsa, who watched the two men closely. Ridge stared hard at Drew and was gratified to see the Yankee back up a pace as Ridge approached. You should back up, asshole. "Listen, dickhead." He kept his voice soft with effort. "The only reason 99

I'm not pounding you right now is that I figure you're a jealous prick who doesn't know any better than to get pissy and act like an idiot." He ignored the snort of disbelief from his angry lover and continued walking forward as he spoke, stopping within inches of Drew. Drew jerked his head back as Ridge got right up in his grill. "What... because we had some fun, you think you have the right to judge what I do?" Breathing heavily, he clenched his fists to keep from swinging them. He could feel the blood pounding through his veins as he attempted to keep a hold on his temper. Elsa made a noise behind him. "Elsa -- quiet!" He slapped his hand into Drew's chest, shoving the larger man back a pace. Drew hit the wall behind him with a small thud, which gratified Ridge. It wasn't often he could push such a big guy around. "She knows I'm not going to really hurt you, even though I have a really good reason right now." "You? Hurt me?" Drew's voice was scornful, but he was still against the wall with Ridge a few inches in front of him, so the comeback lacked a little something. "Yeah. Me. Hurt you." Ridge leaned against him, placing his hands flat on the wall next to Drew's shoulders. Ridge paused as a thought flashed through his head. Surprise made his mouth drop open for a second before he took a deep breath. "You know? I think I'm getting it now." He cocked his head a little to the side, examining the scowling face of his lover. "I'm thinking that I can hurt you -- but not physically. I think it's more emotionally... and you don't like that. Do you, city boy?" He watched closely as Drew's head jerked back again, then started to shake back and forth vigorously. "What? Are you kidding me? How much did you have to drink at that dive?" Drew's hands came up and grabbed Ridge's shoulders as if to push him back. Ridge leaned all his weight forward to prevent it. Based on what he knew of Drew so far, he was going to have to make Drew admit it. "Hey, look, buddy, I don't care if you're fucking every guy from here to..." Ridge pressed one finger to Drew's lips. "Uh-uh." He shook his head, 100

his temper subsiding. "You do care. That's your problem." "No way!" Drew tried to withdraw further, but he had nowhere to go. His back was literally against the wall. "Yes, way." Ridge was calm now, feeling a certain satisfaction at knowing that Drew was emotionally invested. To what degree, hopefully time would tell. But he had to believe that Drew wouldn't have acted like such a nasty fool if his feelings weren't involved. "And you're about as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs." Drew grunted. "Don't throw one of your idiotic hillbilly sayings at me." He turned his head away, staring out the window, a pugnacious look on his face. Snorting in reluctant amusement, Ridge allowed the rest of his irritation to slide away. "How's this for a hillbilly saying? Bite me." That brought Drew's head around. Eyes narrowed, he stared at Ridge, expression mistrustful. Leaning his weight forward, Ridge pressed a soft kiss on Drew. "You do care if I fuck somebody else," he mocked softly, leaning his belly against Drew's hardening cock. "You sure as heck didn't want me to be with Sharon at the bar." He rubbed his lips slowly back and forth, teasing, tempting. "I wasn't, by the way." He shook his head. "She was hitting on me, not the other way around." He stopped kissing long enough to shrug in resignation. "I don't know what it is about women, but they won't leave me alone when I'm in a bar." He reached in and slid his tongue along the seam of Drew's lips, smiling slightly when he felt them open to the slight pressure. "I swear to you, I don't do anything to attract them. I don't know why they won't leave me alone." He lifted one shoulder, honestly confused. "That's why I don't go out with the crew much, you know?" He met Drew's eyes once again, staring straight up into the blazing turquoise gaze. His lips quirked as he considered his plight with women. "I know straight guys would probably kill to have that problem." *** Drew looked down into Ridge's whiskey eyes and felt a strange tightness in his chest. He wanted to press his hand to it, but Ridge's arms were in the way, the muscled strength caging him against the wall. Ridge's 101

lean weight pushed into his body, that pretty package rubbing him nicely. Despite his anger, his cock had gotten hard as Ridge had reamed him out. He had been listening with half an ear, eyeing his lover as Ridge had stalked closer. He'd watched those lips move and the way the slim muscles bunched and found himself both angry and hungry -- that is, until Ridge had made that crazy claim. That's when Drew's chest had tightened and his belly had clenched, like the time he'd been thrown off his horse and landed badly. Everything had hurt that day. Today, though, it was more the center of his body. He couldn't figure out what was wrong with his chest. Maybe it was stress. He tried to clear his suddenly dry throat. "Ridge." His voice was slightly hoarse. He tried again. "Ridge... get off me. Let me loose." He pulled away slightly to avoid the tongue and lips that were following his. Ridge didn't relax his stance. "I'm not holding you. You can get away any time you want. Anyway, you're a hell of a lot bigger than I am, aren't you?" Drew grimaced at that. If he'd wanted to, he could have knocked Ridge away at any time. They both knew that. Just then, Elsa whined, causing him to jerk his head in her direction. "Easy, girl. Everything's okay." At his soothing tone, she dropped back down on the floor, and he turned back to Ridge, who was still right up in his face. "Everything's okay," he repeated softly. He leaned his forehead down to Ridge's and sighed deeply. Closing his eyes, he spoke in a near-whisper. "I didn't like seeing you with that woman." "About time." With that hoarse whisper, Ridge shifted his stance and slid his arms up over Drew's shoulders. He kissed Drew, tongue sliding forward, laying claim. Shoving one booted foot between Drew's, Ridge leaned his head back for a brief moment. "Let me in." Marveling anew at the assertive side of this surprising man, Drew stared into the whiskey eyes for a moment, trying to decide if he should retake the dominant position. He wasn't sure if he should let Ridge talk to him this way. He raised one hand to push at Ridge's shoulder. "Back off. I can't breathe." Grunting, Ridge just leaned closer. "No." He kissed Drew again. Unable to resist any longer, Drew blew out a heavy sigh. "Christ, you're 102

a pain in the ass." He brought his arms up, tunneling under Ridge's arms, snugging Ridge up close to his body. "Uh-huh. Rae says that a lot. Why don't we go to my apartment so we can finish straightening this out?" Drew groaned automatically at that. He didn't want to talk about anything. Ridge leaned his head back. "Don't be such a pussy. Just admit you'll feel better if we clear all this up. I know I will. No more mixed signals." Easing away, Ridge stared at him. "Besides, I've got to check on Henry, anyway." With another step back, he slid his hand down Drew's arm. Drew could feel his muscles bunch at the contact. Ridge grabbed his hand and pulled Drew away from the wall, tugging him to get him going. "Come on, city boy. Bring Elsa and her stuff." Chapter 11

If you're looking for sympathy, it's between shit and sweat in the dictionary. Ridge Huntington Ridge's apartment was fairly spacious for a one-bedroom, but right now, Drew felt like he could use a couple of counties between them. He watched Ridge walk around, turning on lights, clicking on the ceiling fan, and moving to the speaker dock to turn music on low. Ridge spoke on his way to the kitchen, looking to where Drew still stood by the door. "How about some dinner?" He walked behind the breakfast bar, then came back a few steps with a quizzical look on his face. "Hey. Don't you need to get out to the barn to check on Bella?" Reminded of the excuse he'd used earlier to leave the bar, Drew frowned. Pursing his lips crookedly, he shrugged. "Nah. Not really. I called George before I left work. She's doing fine." Too late, he realized that he'd just thrown out a perfectly good excuse to avoid "the discussion." He grimaced. Fuck. "Well, why don't you come in, then, and we'll get something to eat?" Eager for something to do with his hands so that he didn't have to think, 103

Drew stepped forward. "I can make us something." "You can?" The doubt was clear in Ridge's voice. The blond came back out to stand next to Drew. "Uh, ye-ah." What? Was it so unbelievable that he could cook? He wasn't helpless. His lip lifted in a silent snarl as he stalked to the kitchen. He could practically feel Ridge smiling at him. Christ! "You know," his lover's voice was smooth, the humor just slightly apparent, "Even though you're having a baby temper tantrum, it's kind of good to see you being human again instead of acting like a nasty stranger." Little shit. Drew really didn't have an answer for that. He stared down at the kitchen counter for a second before looking up again. Ridge met his gaze. "Okay. I've got to get out of these work clothes. I'm going to take a quick shower." He disappeared into the bedroom. "Let the dogs in, will you?" he called as he walked away. Blowing out an annoyed breath, Drew moved back to the door and opened it to call the dogs, letting out a shrill whistle. Despite his pissy mood, he couldn't help but smile as the two big shepherds bounded up the stairs, shoulder to shoulder, then barreled through the door to slide to a stop inside. He moved out of their way just in time. "Jesus, you're like a couple of second graders." He shook his head and walked back to the kitchen. "Do you want cookies?" He poked around until he found dog treats, then handed out a couple to each animal. The happy pups retreated to Henry's large bed, chomping away companionably. Okay. Drew breathed out a heavy sigh. "Might as well look for something to make." Drew quickly washed his hands and started searching the cabinets and fridge. He found a jar of spaghetti sauce, and then spotted some Italian sausage in the fridge. He smiled in satisfaction. "That's what I'm talking about." The spicy sausage would jazz up the ready-made sauce. Locating a frying pan in the drawer of the range, he frowned at the cheap metal. With a roll of his eyes, he set it on a burner, then cut the skin of the sausage and squeezed it into the pan to brown. He found a stockpot and filled it with water, then turned on the gas. Wandering back to the fridge, he spotted makings for a salad and began slicing and chopping. Drew made a mental note to get some fresh herbs and garlic for Ridge's kitchen -- and fresh tomatoes instead of the warehouse crap he'd found in the fridge. 104

He stopped a moment, surprised by the domestic thought. What the hell was he doing? Just then the water shut off in the shower. He had to concentrate surprisingly hard to keep his fingers away from the sharp edge of the knife as his mind clearly projected pictures of a naked Ridge, dripping water, stepping out of the tub. That pretty cock, the gloriously fine ass, and those beautiful golden-brown eyes. Ridge twisting to dry himself, setting a foot on the tub. God. Drew saw himself moving up behind Ridge to set his cock in the cleft of that ass, his hand reaching around to stroke the sleek cock to full hardness. He would pull Ridge upright, setting that upraised foot on the floor and sliding it over, making a nice space for himself between those strong legs. He'd push the upper body forward so that Ridge would be bent over the tub, holding onto the edge. He'd then unzip his jeans, carefully, since his cock would be rock hard and straining to get loose. As long as he was dreaming, he imagined just what it would feel like inside that hot, silky ass without a glove. He saw himself desperately looking around the bathroom counter for the lube, reaching over to dig through a drawer. His frustration mounted as the lube remained elusive-"Drew?" He jerked back to the present to find Ridge standing next to him, staring at him strangely. Looking down, he found himself with one hand holding a tomato on the cutting board while the other held a chef's knife. He realized he'd been standing motionless, daydreaming about his lover. Christ. What am I, a teenager? He threw down the knife, shoved the tomato away, and stalked to the door, yanking it open. Ridge's voice caught him just as he was about to step over the threshold. "Now where are you going? You can't keep walking away from me." Heaving a deep breath, Drew stood a moment before shoving the door closed, then turning around and walking back to the kitchen. Silently, he picked up the knife and began methodically slicing the tomato. He felt Ridge watching him for a moment, but, without comment, the blond moved to the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water. Ridge unscrewed the top and took a long drink, then moved to stand next to Drew again. With a 105

nudge, his lover held up the bottle. "Want some?" Relieved that Ridge wasn't pressing him, Drew finished slicing and turned around, rump against the counter. He accepted the water bottle and drank deeply. Lowering the bottle, he watched as Ridge moved to the range to check what he was cooking. "Smells good." Confused, Drew didn't know what to do for a second. He'd expected Ridge to demand to know why he was acting like an idiot again. Of course, then he'd have to figure out what the hell he was doing. Drew reached up to rub his chest. *** Ridge watched him, silently enjoying seeing his big, tough lover struggling with whatever emotions were bothering him. It was his bet that Drew didn't deal with emotional issues all that often; no doubt, Drew liked it that way. Feeling strangely confident -- and aware that Drew was becoming a little easier for him to read -- Ridge decided to let things settle a bit before making Drew talk to him. "I'll set the table." He pulled flatware out of the drawer and grabbed a couple of plates, setting them on the banquette table. Out of the corner of his eye, he noted that it took a moment before Drew turned back to the counter to finish dinner. "I don't have any bread... but I do have wine. Rae and I have been learning about building up a cellar." He pulled a bottle from the small rack inside the pantry. "Do you like red? Here's a great Sangiovese." "Yeah." Drew stirred the sauce, paying seemingly close attention to it. As he grabbed a corkscrew and opened the wine, Ridge saw Drew watching him out of the corner of one eye. When the other man released a big sigh, he smiled to himself. The water was boiling, so Drew grabbed the pasta and dumped it into the water. He set the timer on the microwave and moved to the table to pick up his glass of wine. Bringing it to his lips, he took a sip while his eyes met Ridge's. Ridge stared consideringly at Drew. Swallowing the wine with a gulp, Drew dropped onto the seat opposite 106

Ridge. Ridge pressed his lips together to hold back another smile. Drew's body language was screaming at him. The big, tough guy was obviously uncomfortable at the thought of any talk about feelings or emotions. Ridge certainly hadn't spent a lot of time thinking about them. When his dad died, Ridge had been nineteen, and it had been a devastating time for him and Rae. Brother and sister had leaned on each other, becoming closer. Working together to keep the inn running -- and fighting to get it into the black -- had fused them together. Then, Arnie died. Arnie Duncan had taught him most of what he knew about woodworking. Ridge had worked for the cabinetmaker during high school and college. When the old man had wanted to retire, the two of them had worked out a deal where Ridge, with some financing, bought the tools and equipment at a discounted price. He took over the business, while Arnie enjoyed working at a slower pace as his apprentice became a master carpenter. With Arnie's passing, Ridge had lost a second father figure. That had been almost as traumatic as losing his dad. Before Drew came barreling into his life, though, Ridge hadn't experienced any real romantic love. His college boyfriend had been his only steady gig, and that hadn't exactly rocked his world. Since then, he'd been picky and occasionally had gotten together with another guy. It was somewhat embarrassing to have to admit how bland his sex life had been BD. Before Drew. This thing with Drew was like a roller coaster ride -- and Ridge had to remind himself to maintain his equilibrium as much as he could. This was beyond his experience in many ways, and he was feeling his way through it from moment to moment. But if there was one thing he'd learned from losing his parents so early in his life, it was that he shouldn't waste opportunities. What he knew right then was that he was willing to do what it took to find out if this -- whatever it was -- could be real and lasting. Maybe talking about work would be an easy icebreaker. Ridge turned sideways and put his feet up along the bench seat. "So, that was a surprise -you working with Tony Lopez." He tugged on his earlobe. "I had no idea you were working at the same company. I didn't really even realize that we hadn't 107

talked about where you were working." He cocked his head to one side, considering. "I just heard a little scuttlebutt today that there was a new partner or something. I guess that's you." "Guh." Drew sounded disgusted. "I'm head of operations, not a partner." "Isn't that a good job? Maybe some potential?" He took another sip of his wine, appreciating the mellow taste of the red. "Sounds like an opportunity." Ridge was distracted for a moment as Drew puffed out a breath, lip curling a little at the edge. Really, the many moods of this man just captivated him. Shrugging in an abbreviated movement, Drew eyed Ridge across the table. "Uh, I guess." At Ridge's look, he shrugged again, sighing. "Okay, yeah, it's fine." He moved abruptly off the bench seat, and went to the fridge to pull open the door. He stared inside. "It's just not what I thought I'd be doing now, that's all." Seeing some Parmigiano cheese, he brought it out, then began pulling drawers open, one by one. "Jesus, don't you have a grater?" Rolling his eyes, Ridge slid off the banquette and walked over to Drew, calmly opening a drawer and pulling out the utensil. "Here." When Drew nodded and tried to take it, Ridge held onto it, waiting until Drew's eyes rose to his. "You can calm down anytime. You don't have to tell me what's bothering you." He brought his hand up to cup the strong jaw, rubbing softly at the five o'clock shadow he found there. "Let's finish getting this ready." Just then the timer went off on the microwave. Getting the colander out of the cabinet, Ridge set it in the sink, then slid past Drew to take the pasta off the range. Drew stared for a moment before reaching to turn off the flame on his sauce. He worked silently with Ridge to put their plates together, and very soon they were sitting down to eat. Ridge sniffed appreciatively at the sauce. Tasting it, he hummed. "This is good." Drew watched as he dug in. "You don't do what I expect you to do." The words came out of nowhere. "What do you expect me to do?" Swallowing a forkful, Ridge followed 108

it with another sip of the Sangiovese. Drew slid his fork into his pasta, moving it around a little. "I don't know. I... I guess I keep expecting you to be like other guys I've known." He slid a forkful of pasta into his mouth. "You don't call me and ask where I've been or what I've been doing. Or ask me to take you to the latest hot spot." Slightly offended, Ridge made a face. "What kind of guys have you dated? I'm not some needy, whiny twink who has to be around the big, strong guy all the time." Snorting in disgust, he dropped his fork and shoved his plate away. "Whoa. I -- uh, I didn't mean to--" "Oh, yes, you did mean to." Ridge stared at Drew with a jaundiced eye. "I'm doing my damnedest to not get pissed again. But you're going to have to do a little of the work, too." With a frown, his lover gestured down to the table. "Eat your pasta. It's going to get cold." When Ridge didn't move, Drew shrugged defensively. "All right. All right! You're not like other guys. You're not like... Danny." "You've mentioned him before. A real prince, I think you called him." Ridge slowly pulled his plate back in front of himself, picking up his fork and sliding it into the pasta. "Well, do me a favor and don't compare us." He forked up a mouthful, appreciating the good flavor once again, despite his irritation. "Okay." That response was suspiciously meek, and, wineglass cupped in one hand, he eyed Drew, lips quirked. "I said okay." Drew hid behind his glass. Finally seeing the humor in the idiotic conversation, Ridge just shook his head. "So, tell me what kind of work you did in Chicago." Drew sighed. He put his fork down and picked up his wineglass, absently swirling the contents. "I'm a structural engineer by training. After college I worked for a big firm that did a lot of civil work -- you know, highways, bridges, that kind of thing. Then my dad asked me to come work for him. So, I worked with his firm for about ten years." He paused to take a sip. "I worked there during the summers in high school and college, doing all the grunt work. My dad wanted me to learn the business from the bottom up." 109

He smiled briefly, and Ridge noted it was a real smile. "I learned all right," Drew continued. "Learned how obsessive engineers can be and how kooky they are." Ridge huffed a small laugh in agreement. He could certainly testify to how obsessive one particular engineer could be. Drew took a deep breath as he continued. "The company has architects on staff, too, so we do design and we've worked with developers. We've actually developed some projects of our own, too. Anyway, for some ungodly reason, my dad decided that he wanted to run for political office to try to help fix the system." Drew rolled his eyes at that. "Like anybody could clean up the messes we're in." He paused to fork up another bite of pasta, chewing a moment. "Well, he got elected. Holy Christ, was that ever a shocker. And he asked me to help him. So, I became his chief of staff." A long swallow of the red followed. Ridge, who by now had finished his plate, turned and put his feet up again. "So how did you end up here? I know it's not a good story. I can tell that by how snarky you look any time your old job or Chicago is mentioned." Drew looked for a moment like he was going to try to deny being unhappy. He stopped with the words unformed as Ridge looked at him knowingly; then he gave a surly shrug. "Look... there was this contract that we had to let. I gave it to the company I knew could get the job done for the best price, and the bottom-feeders in the press jumped all over it -- God, I can't stand those assholes! -- without checking out the legitimacy of the contract." Drew leaned an elbow on the table and propped his head in his hand. "Fuckers." That last word was muttered. He raised his head again to stare into Ridge's eyes. "I swear to you, Sego bid the contract as they were supposed to. Can I help it if they're in the best position to get the job done? Can I help it if we did business with them at Stratton Engineering? Christ, you'd think I embezzled from the Vatican or something." He slouched back and grabbed his wineglass, quickly draining it. Ridge was trying to understand what was going on. "So you gave a contract to somebody you and your dad had done business with in the past..." "That was ten years ago!" 110

"Okay, okay," Ridge soothed. "So they got the contract. Sounds like they bid it fair and square. So what was the big deal?" Drew lurched off the bench seat, his anger apparent. "The big deal is those fuckers in the press want to bring Charles Stratton down! They don't care who they destroy to do it -- whether it's me, my dad, or an honest company doing a good job!" Ridge was floored, both by the anger and emotion he was witnessing, and by the fact that he'd just connected the dots. "Your dad is Charles Stratton?" He gulped. "The mayor of Chicago?" He swung his feet back down to the floor and leaned forward. Holy shit. Drew shrugged angrily. "Yeah. I told you that." He stalked to the counter and grabbed the bottle of wine, coming back to drop into his seat. He refilled his glass and shoved the bottle onto the table. Ridge continued to stare at him. "What?" There was exasperation in the question. Ridge lifted his hands helplessly. I have no idea. "Uh, I guess I'm just shocked that your dad is the mayor of Chicago. My God, even here we've heard about him and his crusade against corruption in the big city. And you don't have the same last name. How would I know?" It was like meeting somebody related to Giuliani, was all Ridge could think. "That's because I was adopted when I was fourteen." Ridge shook his head, forcing himself to concentrate on what was really going on. "But what happened? Why did you have to leave?" Drew took another big gulp of his wine. "In the time-honored political tradition, I had to get thrown under the bus so that my dad wouldn't be the target." He snorted out a breath. "Forget that my dad has actually made real progress in cleaning up corruption in Chicago. Forget that the city is starting, ever so slowly, to actually work again. Did you know it could take more than a year to get a building permit in the city of Chicago? Did you know that to develop a project with the city, it could take three to four years just to break ground? How about the fact that nearly half of the convention business has left the city?" He threw up his hands. "It was ridiculous. City departments were grinding to a halt. Everybody was afraid to take responsibility or be accountable. Well, my dad is starting to change that. The good people are 111

taking command again, and it's getting better." He drank again, his hand wobbling a little as he set his glass down on the table. Whoa. Somebody needed a hug. The only thing stopping Ridge was the realization that here, at last, was the real Drew -- someone that Ridge definitely wanted to know better. "So you had to resign, I'm guessing?" "Yeah," Drew responded sarcastically. "I had to resign." His head dropped back and he stared at the ceiling for a moment. Raising his head again, he met Ridge's gaze with a razor-like stare. "I would do anything to protect my dad. He did nothing wrong -- neither did I! -- but it didn't matter. I had to go so that my dad could run for re-election without this trailing alongside." Taking another sip, he shrugged as he looked at Ridge again. "But... I... guess I..." He took a deep breath and continued. "To tell you the truth, I wasn't sorry to go -- just sorry about the way I had to go." He shook his head slowly. "I hated it there. I'm not cut out for politics and all the bullshit that goes with it. I was there only to help my dad. I hate the back-stabbing, the fake friends, the uninformed voters, the whole thing." Ridge smiled slowly. "Somehow, I can see that. You are definitely not cut out for politics. I don't think you have the patience for it, that's for dang sure." He made a face. "I'm sorry you and your dad had to go through that, but I'm not sorry it brought you here." Propping his elbows on the table, he looked down at his hands. "It seems like you have a new start, whether you wanted one or not." Ridge raised his head, words slow, voice soft. "And I'm glad you're here. I want to spend time with you, be with you, get to know you more." He looked at Drew, trying to interpret the expression on the other man's face. "I think you want the same, if only you'd let yourself go a little bit. Tell you what. Let's finish up here, and then we'll watch a movie. Does that sound okay?" He had to laugh when Drew nodded rapidly. "Okay, you finish eating. I'll put some coffee on and run down to the inn kitchen to grab some dessert. You just relax." Chapter 14

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Even a blind pig finds an acorn once in a while. Drew Cunningham Three hours later, Ridge clicked off the television and lifted his head from where it rested on Drew's chest. He sat up and looked around, smiling. The two dogs were out cold on their shared bed. Drew was snoring softly in the corner of the sofa. "Remind me not to order any more movies with 'jackass' in the title." He should have known better. Getting up to turn off the lights in the kitchen, he looked out the window toward the inn, just making sure all was peaceful and quiet. He could hear some crickets chirping, and he smiled, loving the sounds of nature right outside. "What are you smiling at?" Drew's voice was a little gravelly. He walked back to the sofa, drawn by the sexy sound. "I was just thinking how lucky I am to live here, where it's so beautiful. I love listening to the night sounds." He knelt next to Drew, then slung one knee over to straddle the long legs. Resting his ass on muscled thighs, he let his hands play with the snap on Drew's jeans. "You're lucky here. Back home, before I moved to my condo on the lakefront, I'd hear trucks, buses, cars with gangbanger music blasting from the windows, you name it." Drew rolled his head on the sofa back, sliding a glance toward the windows. "It really is peaceful. I noticed that first off." "Yeah? So, you do like it?" Was Drew actually going to say that he liked something about Asheville? Drew pursed his lips, considering. His fingers were aimlessly sliding over Ridge's T-shirt-covered torso. "Hmmm, I like how green it is. I can't get over that. I'm so used to seeing asphalt and concrete around me. It really is different." His hands slid under the T-shirt, and his fingers played. Ridge sighed a low moan as those fingers pinched and pulled his tender bits. His head tipped forward so he could watch, teeth biting his lower lip. "What... what else do you like?" "Well... I have to say I like southern cooking, now that I've discovered it." Drew cocked his head, the expression on his face contemplative. "Huh. What else do I like?" There was definitely a sly gleam in the turquoise eyes. Ridge was breathless as he struggled to stay upright on Drew's lap. Those fingers were 113

twisting and pulling and rubbing his tits, sending shafts of heat to his belly. "What -- a-about... the people -- here? An-anybody special so far?" Drew met Ridge's gaze as the long fingers stopped their teasing. His hands slid around to Ridge's back, bringing Ridge flush with his chest, their lips just inches apart. "Yeah. There's somebody special, all right." One hand slid up through the neck of Ridge's T-shirt to grab the back of his head, bringing their lips together. "One somebody special." Their lips met as their eyes held each other. Ridge felt a thrill run through him before his lids dropped and he began kissing Drew in earnest. He wrapped his arms tightly around the strong neck, driving his fingers through the silky, dark hair. Drew rolled them both to the side, stretching out on the sofa, working his way between Ridge's legs. "I do have to say, I don't know what it is about you, but... I can't stop thinking about you. I'm not sure I like that." He propped himself up, elbows on either side of Ridge's shoulders. "Why do you stay in my head?" "Hmm. As in, I'm bothering you -- or as in, you're helplessly, hopelessly attracted to me and you can't stay away?" With a groan, Drew frowned at him, then leaned down to kiss him thoroughly again. "As in, I wish I knew what the fuck I was doing." Pulling Drew's stubborn head down again, Ridge whispered against the closed lips. "Quit bitching. You're doing exactly what you want." Opening his mouth, he pressed forward quickly, his tongue tangling briefly with Drew's before retreating. "I kind of think you always do exactly what you want." He claimed Drew's mouth, tongue fucking deep. He slid one hand down to cup a muscled ass cheek, pulling Drew tightly to him. Drew resisted stubbornly for several seconds before surrendering with a groan, his own tongue challenging as he ground his cock into Ridge. He reached back with his arms, one at a time, to pull Ridge's knees up around his waist. Head lifting just a bit, he moved his mouth to the point between Ridge's neck and shoulder, and his teeth played with the skin and muscle there. When Ridge gasped in anticipation, Drew pulled the skin up between his teeth and starting sucking strongly. That got a grunt from Ridge, and Drew shoved one hand under Ridge's back, sliding up to capture his hair and hold his head in place. Drew nipped 114

and licked a path to the other side, and Ridge jerked his head a little, trying to give himself room to move. "Drew!" he whimpered. He wrapped his legs around Drew, heels digging into the muscular ass. He lifted his hips up rhythmically, trying desperately to get the friction his cock needed. He pushed his hands down to rip open his jeans, succeeding in getting his zipper down and his hand around his cock. His lover lifted up enough to push Ridge's hand away. "Let me." His dick was grasped and carefully tugged free. "Here... here. Don't you want some of this?" The playful words were accompanied by a firm grip sliding up and down from base to tip, over and over. Shifting onto one forearm, Drew moved back far enough to jerk up Ridge's T-shirt, then grabbed Ridge's cock once again. He lowered himself, his teeth seeking out and finding one flat nipple, tonguing the ring there. Ridge's body arched up in response, a hoarse cry coming out of his throat. God, he loved it when Drew bit and played with his tits. He'd never before realized how sensitive they were and how revved this kind of sport could get him. He grabbed Drew's shirt, pulling on it in his excitement. "More... God, yes -- unh!" "More what?" Drew transferred his mouth to the other teat, nibbling it and then sucking it into his mouth to soothe the burn. "God! Drew, when you -- oh, God, more... bite me -- jeez, I love it when you do that!" His hands came up and grabbed Drew's hair, meeting the heated turquoise gaze, jumping in with both feet. "Bite me, spank me -- make me take it," he babbled desperately. "Holy shit." Drew jackknifed off the sofa and grabbed one of Ridge's hands, yanking him up. He was dragged into the bedroom. Drew halted at the side of the bed and started yanking off his clothes while he tersely ordered, "Get rid of those clothes -- now!" His eyes were a little wild. Throwing their clothing to the floor, they finished at just about the same time. Drew once again grabbed Ridge's hand and jerked forward, and Ridge ended up across his lap as he dropped to the side of the bed. Ridge fell forward with a grunt, hands coming out to catch himself on the floor. He gulped at feeling so vulnerable, over Drew's lap, with his ass in the air. "Uhh... oh, God, what am I doing?" Am I crazy? Drew's hand came 115

down with a sharp smack. "Ow! Ohhhhhh," he moaned. "Stings!" And made his cock harder. He wriggled, trying to get some friction for his dick against Drew's thigh. Another smack followed, then another. He moaned and groaned at each one, but his cock was leaking and he'd never been more excited in his life. He struggled to push his ass higher into the air. Drew groaned. "God! The way you ask for it -- I... that's it, baby, spread some more so I can... see -- oh, yeah, there..." Ridge received a light smack along his crease, just above his balls. "Shit!" God almighty! Drew rubbed his hand over Ridge's hot cheeks, caressing where he'd just hit, then ran his fingers down the crease, pressing against Ridge's fluttering hole. Knowing -- hoping -- more was coming, Ridge held his breath, head up as he looked blindly at the floor in front of him. When Drew's hand came down again, it was in a little tap just touching his opening. Ridge yelled hoarsely, his head dropping down as he panted. "Whoa!" Drew grabbed him as he almost slid to the floor and hauled him up onto the bed, shoving him onto his back, spreading his legs wide. Lunging for the bottle of lube on the nightstand, Drew moved back to kneel between Ridge's bent knees. Their eyes met. Ridge felt the burn of Drew's gaze as it went down his body and back up again, pausing at his quivering dick, his taut belly, his chest rapidly lifting with his breaths. "Oh, you are so ready for this, aren't you?" Drew palmed his cock, tugging it a couple of times as he stared at Ridge knowingly. Ridge held his breath. "What are you...?" His words trailed off in a small screech as Drew lightly slapped his dick. "Oh, God!" He couldn't believe how perverse that was and yet -- God, it made him hot! Ridge shoved his hips up off the bed, spreading his thighs as far as they would go. "God, you're a little slut, aren't you?" Drew said admiringly. "What do you want, baby?" He grasped Ridge's cock and squeezed, milking it. "Christ! I love the way you ask for more." He tugged once more. "What else can I give you?" Ridge whispered one word. "Everything." With a groan, Drew dropped forward onto one arm, covering Ridge's 116

lips, fucking them with his tongue. His hand continued tugging and caressing, his thumb catching Ridge's pre-come and spreading it around the silky soft head. "God..." He sat back on his heels again, grabbing the lube, and this time dumping some on his fingers. He set two fingers against Ridge's hole, pressing, "I like how you watch me." His voice was low, and his gleaming eyes burned into Ridge as he pressed forward a little. "Do you want this? Huh?" Nodding rapidly in desperation, Ridge sighed when Drew pushed both fingers in. "Oh, that's it, Ridge, let me in." Ridge was struck by the look on Drew's face. He would have sworn that his lover was as caught up in this moment as he was. The intense concentration -- the focus, yeah, Drew could be obsessive about things, he'd seen evidence of that already, but this felt like... more. Grunting as Drew pushed those fingers as deep as they would go, scissoring them and twisting, Ridge cried out again as Drew's thumb rolled over his balls, gently pressing, pushing them in their sac. "Another one?" Drew wiggled his fingers meaningfully. Ridge nodded silently, his breath heaving in his chest. Reaching out blindly and grabbing another pillow, he shoved it behind him so he could see better. He groaned when the third finger was pushed into his ass, loving the burn and the sensation of fullness. He loved the feel of all those fingers spreading him, opening him for his dominant lover. He rolled his head on the pillow as Drew took long minutes to stretch him open. When Drew's eyes rose to his again, he silently mouthed the word, "More." Swallowing deeply, Drew pulled his hand back and added more lube. He dropped one hand to the bed beside Ridge as he brought four fingers to bear. Ridge's head arched back and his arms spread on the bed as Drew pushed them slowly, so slowly, inside. He moaned at the feeling of fullness, the pinch and burn. "Oh, God. You... oh, God." His hips rolled continually, fucking himself on Drew's big fingers. He hissed in a breath as Drew nudged 117

his prostate repeatedly. "Christ, you're hot," Drew muttered. He pushed his fingers in and out, over and over again. "I can't get enough of this, Ridge. I love how you let me open you up, how you take whatever I want to give." Drew looked up and their eyes met again. "More, baby?" Ridge struggled to answer, panting and writhing on the bed, feeling taken, mastered. One word was all he could get out. "More." Chapter 15

Love is a many splintered thing. Ridge Huntington At that one word, Drew felt his cock harden even further, the head leaking pre-come, dripping onto the comforter below. "Holy shit." He swallowed with difficulty. This man was his for the taking. God, he wanted to fuck Ridge so badly. He was shaking with it. "God, the way you look." He marveled at the sexual feast laid out before him. "I could... I need... God, you're amazing. I have to--" Ridge whimpered as Drew pulled back abruptly. Drew scrambled to find a condom. "I know, shhh." God, Ridge was burning him up. His blond lover was panting and moaning. Suiting up in record time, Drew quickly lubed his dick with two swipes, then repositioned himself, using a hand to widen the spread of Ridge's legs. "Keep them up." He pushed one knee, then the other, up toward Ridge's chest. Lowering his body, he lined up. He could feel the burning heat against the head of his dick. With a breathy moan, he began pressing inward, and he groaned, almost with a pained sound, as his dick passed through the tight ring guarding Ridge's ass. Gusting a sigh, he lowered his weight, one elbow at a time, then dropped his head to kiss Ridge as he slid further inside. Just before their lips touched, Ridge whispered, "I love you." Shocked to his core, Drew could only stare helplessly. The tightness 118

was back in his chest and he couldn't breathe. His cock pulsed and throbbed as he hung there, frozen. Ridge watched him with a tiny smile, pretty brown eyes searching. He finally dropped his head to Ridge's shoulder, hiding his face in the smooth skin there. "God, Ridge, I... I don't... I need..." Just what in the hell was he supposed to say to that? His cock knew what it needed though, as his hips began moving again, dick seeking relief. "Sweetheart, I... I really, really, need to be inside you right now." He knew what to do for that. "I need to fuck you so bad," he mumbled. Ridge spread his legs, opening himself more. "It's okay. I need it, too." Was Ridge comforting him? Shaken, Drew covered his man fully with his weight and slowly began driving his cock forward and back, balancing on his elbows, his thighs spread below Ridge's. He felt Ridge's hands slide down his back, caressing him, encouraging him to move faster. One hand slid to his ass, the fingers feathering over his opening. Drew couldn't even find it in himself to tense up, though no other man had gained entrance there. Ever. He actually spread himself further, giving Ridge more access. He raised his head and met Ridge's gaze, letting his lover know he was opening himself in every way. "Drew." Ridge responded swiftly by gathering him tighter to the lean body, then brought one hand up to Drew's mouth, resting one finger against his lips. Drew breathed in sharply through his nose before slowly relaxing his lips and opening up. His hips paused their motion. The lone finger pressed inside, and Drew sucked on it, watching Ridge as he did so. Then Ridge pulled out, that hand again sliding down his back to his ass. That wet finger pressed against his hole and, in a deliberate motion, stepping past his fear, Drew lifted his ass into the pressure, wanting Ridge to breach his hole. His hips started to move again as he fucked Ridge, but now his ass was pushing back toward that finger on every stroke. His belly clenched in excitement at what he was doing, and he kept fucking helplessly as that finger slowly pushed inside him, opening him up. When Ridge twisted it and hit his prostate, he screamed hoarsely and shot his load into the condom, jerking and groaning. His hole clamped down 119

on that finger, and Ridge kept massaging his prostate all the way through his orgasm. Drew shuddered and moaned continually, his face buried once again in Ridge's shoulder. He tried to keep moving, to bring Ridge off, but he was held immobile by the pleasure cascading through him. "I can't..." Ridge pulled his finger out and used his other hand to grab his own cock, yanking rapidly. "Just -- just, God, right there, right there!" Panting, he kept pulling, while Drew tried to push deeper. Sweating, head hanging just over Ridge's face, Drew gritted his teeth and shoved one last time. When Ridge froze and grunted repeatedly, his ass spasming, Drew sighed gustily, dropping his full weight on Ridge, his strength completely gone. Christ. *** Late the next morning, Ridge was still smiling when he woke. His body felt well used but replete; his mind was floating. They'd gone at it twice more during the night, Drew waking him up again to take him, this time from behind, and, just before dawn, Drew had awakened him with a blowjob. Drew. Giving him a blowjob. The mind boggled. He was spread-eagle on the bed, the midday sun shining on his face and the cool air from the ceiling fan wafting over his naked body. He rolled his head to the side to search for Drew. He didn't see him, but he could hear pans banging in the kitchen. He arched his body in a stretch, groaning in pleasure as his ass moved on the bed. "God in heaven." Had he really blurted out how he felt? "That was either the dumbest thing I've ever done... or... I don't really know what could be dumber." Sure, the sex was great -- okay, maybe monumental, not that he'd been such a player that he had a lot to compare. But still, was he now the world's biggest idiot? What was he going to see when he found Drew? The other man could be so unpredictable. "Makes me kind of wish I had a back door." Last night, the emotions from Drew had run the gamut from jealousy to anger to need -- to vulnerability. The whole night had been a first for Ridge. 120

"He was pretty much on the ropes last night." He contemplated Drew and vulnerability -- the two didn't seem to go together. "Well, maybe now they do." He was going to be positive about it. "You don't ask, you don't get." Ridge had definitely learned that life lesson. I mean, really. The man let me in last night -- in more ways than one. How else could he describe the way Drew had looked at that moment when all the camouflage had fallen away and he'd seen the real man? Convinced he was on the right track, Ridge rolled to his side and sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He paused a moment, feeling twinges everywhere, his body reminding him of just how acrobatic they'd been the night before. Allowing himself a satisfied smirk, he sat a minute or two, absorbing the quiet and the sunshine of the summer morning before he pushed himself to his feet and headed to the bathroom. Ridge groaned again at the feeling in his ass; the ache and the memory of why it ached sent a tingle to his balls. His breath hitched for a moment. Walking to the shower, he reached in and turned on the water before stepping over to use the toilet. When the water had warmed up, he pulled open the clear glass door and stepped in. He turned under the hot spray, soaking his hair and lathering it up with shampoo. He couldn't be bothered to move too quickly, so his fingers slide slowly back and forth on his scalp, massaging. Finally turning to rinse his hair, he grabbed the loofah and poured gel onto it. Desultorily scrubbing his chest and arms, he lingered over his sensitive nipples, lightly teasing them with the loofah, rubbing carefully over his ring. He washed his legs and buttocks before switching to a washcloth. Soaping it up, he gently ran it over his cock and balls, loving the feeling as he lifted and rolled his balls with the soapy cloth. His head dropped back and he groaned in delight as he continued to pleasure himself. "Mmmm, good morning. You surely are something else." The gruff voice made him smile even as his eyes remained closed. He felt Drew move into the shower behind him and gently take the washcloth from his hand. Taking over the intimate chore, Drew pushed the cloth behind his balls and gently rubbed his taint before sliding around to his crease. The cloth pushed down into it, rubbing gently over his well-used hole. 121

"How does that feel this morning?" The words were whispered in his ear just before his lobe was sucked into Drew's mouth. "Are you sore at all? I went at you pretty good." Ridge gently pulled his head away and turned around. Their eyes met. "I could say the same about you -- but it wasn't your ass I went after, it was right here." He tapped one finger on Drew's chest, right over the suddenly thumping heart. There. He'd said it again. Drew swallowed roughly as the words hung there for a moment. His hands fell away, the cloth dropping to the floor of the shower. He pressed against his own chest, rubbing. Suddenly, the only sound was from the water pouring down and the faint hum of the exhaust fan. Light bounced around the room as the sunshine reflected in the large mirror over the sink. There was nowhere to hide. Drew opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Ridge regarded him knowingly. He brought his hand up, laying fingers across Drew's lips. "Don't even go there... you and I both know what happened last night. You and me -- we were both in the same place." He... just knew it. Deep inside. The memory of Drew submitting, letting Ridge go where he instinctively knew none had been. That had to mean something. Something big, right? His fingers moved around to the back of Drew's head, bending it down a little more toward him. He stared into the turquoise eyes unrelentingly, waiting quietly. Just then the water began to cool. Ridge calmly rinsed himself, still watching Drew as he did so. "Why don't we get out of here?" He pushed open the door and stepped out, leaving Drew to finish up. Slinging a towel around his shoulders and drying himself, he watched out of the corner of his eye as Drew quickly washed, then shut off the water. Ridge slung a towel around his waist, and picked up his toothbrush. Drying off, Drew moved up beside him at the vanity and grabbed a toothbrush, squeezing paste onto it as their eyes met in the mirror. "I made coffee." Recognizing it for the peace offering it was, Ridge smiled briefly as he finished up, wiping his mouth with the hand towel hanging to the side. 122

"Okay. I'm going to get dressed. I'll see you in the kitchen." With that, he turned and walked into the bedroom, making sure his ass swayed under the towel. He walked to the dresser and grabbed a pair of jeans, slinging them on. Barefoot, he slid a comb through his hair before heading out to the kitchen. On his way, he had to sidestep around the dogs where they lay at the foot of the bed. A few minutes later, Ridge was at the range just starting the bacon in the frying pan when he heard Drew walk into the kitchen behind him. A knock sounded at the door just as he turned to face his lover. That brought the dogs barreling out of the bedroom, barking hysterically as they raced to the door. "I'll get it." Drew turned back around. "Henry! Elsa!" He moved over to corral them, shoving the two canines to the side as he went to the door. He stopped dead as he saw who was on the other side. "You've got to be kidding me." Drew slowly opened the door. The dogs, still woofing, shot outside to greet the newcomer. "Paul. What are you doing here? Where is he?" "Who is it?" Ridge was looking over the breakfast bar, eyes narrowing as a strange guy in a suit pushed past Drew to enter the apartment. The stranger's eyes roved around the main room and zeroed in on Ridge, in the kitchen. The man then started to walk into the bedroom. "Hey! What're you doing?" Ridge hurried toward the bedroom to find out who the hell was in his house, but was stopped dead by Drew's next words. "Hi, Dad." Chapter 16

Holy fuckerballs. Drew Cunningham "Hello, son." Ridge spun around as he heard that deep voice speak behind him. "Holy shit, the mayor of Chicago is in my living room." He mumbled 123

the words to himself, then caught Drew with a look of consternation on the whiskered face. Shit. Neither of them had bothered to shave. Walking forward, knowing only that he needed to stand next to Drew, he came to a stop behind his lover, watching as Charles Stratton -- the Charles Stratton -- walked into his home. The mayor held the door open for another visitor. "Mom!" Drew's voice went up an octave as that one word popped out. Still wiggling in excitement, the dogs sneaked back in as the security man stepped past the newcomers, nodding respectfully to the mayor along the way. Ridge watched the flurry of greetings as Drew shook his father's hand and hugged his mother. The very lovely woman, who looked too young -- and too stylish -- to be Drew's mother, squeezed her son's broad shoulders, then leaned back to look into his face. "Your father was worried about you, and he insisted we come to see you." "She means she's been missing you and had to see where you were living and what you were doing." Charles' voice was filled with humor. The mayor was dressed somewhat casually, in a black sport jacket and crisp jeans, with a cream-colored, button-down shirt. His signature black crew cut was a little longer than it had been in the last photo Ridge had seen. Rolling her eyes slightly, Yvonne stepped back and looked around the apartment. Her collar-length auburn hair was held off her face with a headband, and it caught the light as she turned. Her gaze stopped at Ridge, and she smiled. "Good morning." She moved forward with arm extended. "I'm sorry to invade your home without warning." She shrugged, hazel eyes dancing. "Chuck and I just had to come out and see what Drew was finding so fascinating about North Carolina. I'm Yvonne Stratton." Ridge shook her hand helplessly, feeling the surprisingly firm grip, unable to keep from smiling in return. "Good morning, ma'am. I'm Ridge Huntington. Welcome to North Carolina." Geez, she was pretty. Charles came up beside his wife, his eyes narrowed. Ridge felt himself flushing slightly. Should he run and get a shirt on? "Good morning, sir." He held out his hand to the mayor, holding his 124

breath as the older man looked down at it before reaching out to accept. They exchanged a solid handshake as the mayor said, "I'm glad to meet you, Ridge. I've heard a lot about you." Head turning, Ridge stared at Drew in surprise. The look on his lover's face would have made him laugh in any other situation. Right now, he was feeling a little nauseous. Drew shoved the dogs outside and slowly pushed the door shut, successfully avoiding Ridge's eyes as he stepped forward. "We were just going to eat. Are you hungry?" Ridge caught Charles and Yvonne sharing a quick look. "We'd love to join you. We left O'Hare at the crack of dawn this morning to make our connection, and we're starving." The mayor smiled at them both. Yvonne swiftly seconded that. "Yes, we'd love to join you. But first, if you don't mind, may I please use your bathroom?" She pulled her lacy sweater off her shoulders and draped it over the back of the sofa, then laid her purse on the floor next to it. She looked inquiringly at the bedroom doorway. "This way?" Ridge jumped to assist her. "Oh! Yes, ma'am. Sorry." He jolted forward to lead the way, then halted abruptly in embarrassment as he spotted the unmade bed. The sheets needed changing. Jesus, was that a wetspot stain? He was mortified. "Uh, um... I'm sorry, please excuse the mess." Hurrying to the bathroom, he pushed the door open all the way and did a quick visual check to make sure it wasn't a mess. He heaved a sigh of relief. Thank God Drew had picked up the towels. "Thank you, dear." Yvonne breezed by him, closing the door between them. He jumped into action, grabbing a T-shirt from the bedroom chair and yanking it on over his head. Then he raced around the bed. Throwing the comforter off, he jerked the sheets loose, then tossed them on the floor. Taking hold of first one pillow, then the second, he popped them up and down, trying to force them out of the cases. "Come on, come on!" He kept one eye on the bathroom door. Finally, the second pillow popped free, and he breathed a sigh of relief. He gathered up the sheets and pillowcases, wheeling around to dump them in 125

the hamper in the closet, just as Yvonne came out of the bathroom. He stumbled to a halt, a sheepish look on his face as he met Yvonne's twinkling gaze. His lover's mother chuckled. "Don't worry about housekeeping, Ridge. We've surprised you on a Saturday morning. God knows, if people visit me without calling, I figure they deserve what they get." With that, she headed back into the living room. Behind her, Ridge shrugged with a grin and tossed the sheets into the closet, then pulled the door shut. Brushing off his hands, he strolled after her. *** Drew watched his mother and his man head into the bedroom together. Jesus. What next? "If you could see the expression on your face right now..." Great. His father's sense of humor was a little warped, and he'd been the butt of his dad's jokes on more than one occasion. Charles slipped off his sport jacket and dropped it over the back of one of the living room chairs. "I'm sorry we surprised you, but I know how you are... you'd have made us wait quite a while before an invitation was issued." He rubbed his hands together as he walked to the range. "Looks like the bacon needs rescuing..." Charles grabbed the tongs on the counter and deftly flipped the bacon. "Hmm, looks okay. I don't think we lost any of it." He moved over to wash his hands, speaking over the sound of the water. "What're we eating?" Jarred out of his introspection, Drew followed his father. His dad made himself at home, finding and pulling down coffee mugs from the cabinet above the coffee maker. Unable to think of anything else to do, Drew dropped into a seat at the table. "Uh, I was thinking of either omelets or BLTs." "Great! I haven't had a good BLT in a while." Charles pulled open the fridge door and found the lettuce and mayo, bringing them over to the counter near the sink. He reached over and pulled a chef's knife out of the knife block. "Hmmm, good knives." "Dad, what are you doing?" "Huh? I'm getting these tomatoes ready for the sandwiches. Speaking 126

of that, will you pull out the bread?" "Forget the effing sandwiches! What are you and Mom doing here?" Drew heaved a sigh and leaned an elbow on the table, tapping his fingers on the wood. Sending a look over his shoulder, Charles turned off the burner, then began removing crispy bacon from the pan. Grabbing the paper towels that were nearby on the counter, he laid strips out to drain as he spoke. "Drew, I've talked to you about five times since you got here. The first time you did nothing but gripe about this town, your job, and the reporters who did this to you. The second time, you still bitched about the reporters, and you might have mentioned the new barn for your horse, but that was about it. The third time, all you could talk about was how beautiful it was here, how nice the people are, how much you liked this place where you're staying -- and I thought to myself, who is this person I'm talking to?" Drew swallowed at hearing that. He watched his dad in silence. Finding the cutting board near the sink, Charles rinsed the tomatoes and began slicing them. "Your mom and I haven't heard you that enthusiastic about anything in a long, long time. And given how pissed you were about leaving Chicago, I decided we needed to find out what had changed so quickly." He turned around to face Drew. "Where's the toaster?" "Dad!" Charles eyed him, brows raised slightly. "Son, I need the toaster if I'm going to get these sandwiches ready." "Whatever." Throwing up his hands, Drew gave up and went to the cabinets, yanking open a couple of doors before finding a toaster. Slapping it onto the counter, he shoved the plug into the wall and stomped back to the table. He ignored his father's smirk as he plopped back down. Charles went back to his sandwich assembly. "How about some plates and whatever else you want to eat?" As Drew sighed loudly and pushed away from the table again, stalking to the cabinet next to the sink and grabbing plates as his father continued his explanation. "I don't think you realize it, but the last couple of times we talked, you mentioned Ridge quite a few times." Drew stopped what he was doing, one hand holding a plate above the 127

table. His eyes swung up to meet his father's gaze. "Now, unless you're bunking on the couch here, I think my suspicions were correct." At that, Drew stood up ramrod straight and crossed his arms over his chest. "Just what do you mean by that? What suspicions?" Charles turned to face Drew fully, matching his body language. "That you're in love with this boy." Sputtering, Drew started to deny that. "What? No way!" He waved his hands for emphasis, just then noticing that Yvonne and Ridge were standing just outside the bedroom, watching him and Charles. "Really?" Uh-oh. Ridge sounded a little ticked. "What was last night about, then?" Expression disdainful, Ridge moved to the kitchen threshold, and Drew's mother came right up behind. Feeling cornered, Drew started to get angry. He blustered, but a glance from his old man stopped him in his tracks. "So now that your mama and daddy are here, you're going to deny it? You're going to hide?" Christ, the bastard could sound unfriendly. "I'm not hiding. I don't hide!" "Uh-huh. Now, why don't I believe you?" The Carolina drawl was really deep now. Cornpone territory. And that was definitely a smirk on the sexy face. "You're hiding in plain sight right now." Ridge walked over to stand next to Charles. The whiskey-brown eyes stared at Drew, daring him to deny it. His father decided to weigh in again. "If it's still that Danny character who's bothering you, son, you've got to let that go." "Dad!" Christ, Danny was a million years ago. "My mother used to say, the best way to get over somebody is to get under somebody," Yvonne chimed in. She jerked her head in Ridge's direction and rolled her eyes toward him. "Mom!" Nearly strangling on the word, Drew stared at his mother in shock. He could hear suspicious coughing coming from both his father and Ridge, and he whirled to stare at them with the evil eye. "I do not give a red rat's ass about Danny! 128

His father's brows went up at that. "I don't give a rat's ass about him, either, so we're making progress, then. What do you think, Mr. Stratton?" Ridge nodded companionably at Drew's dad, then brought that determined gaze back, those damned eyes lasering in on his discomfort. Shit. "Call me Chuck, son. I think we're going to be close, don't you?" Ridge's gaze let go, turning to meet Charles' amused look. "Thank you, Chuck. As we say here in North Carolina, that's right neighborly of y'all." He pushed out his lip in a smirk as he turned back to Drew. "Unbelievable." Drew watched his father and his lover unite against him. And his goddamned chest was tight again. One hand came up to rub the muscles there, and he pressed hard, trying to ease the restriction. He swiveled his head back and forth between the two men and over to Yvonne before coming back to Ridge. "I... you... he--" He lifted his hand up as if to offer an explanation, but dropped it in resignation. He backed up until he felt the banquette behind himself and dropped down into it, defeated. *** Ridge caught Drew's parents exchanging a knowing glance, and that confirmed what he knew in his gut. Moving over to the table, he slid into the other side. "It's okay to be scared." Lord knew he was, underneath it all. He ignored the scoffing noise Drew released under his breath. The dumbass wouldn't look at him. "You think you're the only one?" Hands raised, palms up and fingers spread, Ridge stared at Drew in exasperation. That got him some attention. The turquoise eyes lifted, and Drew stared at him. The expression on the rugged face was half cranky, half uncertain. Ridge nodded, one hand waving in emphasis. "Yeah. You scare me. At least..." He paused, some of his bravado sliding away. "Uh. Well. I know guys aren't supposed to talk about feelings." He rubbed at a tiny mark in the matte finish on his kitchen table, then looked at Drew again. "You know, you've completely up-dumped my life here. My sister thinks I'm going to cause trouble for us with Tony, my woodworking schedule is all over the map -- and then, to top it off, I find out my lover's dad is famous!" He tipped his head to the side, sending an apologetic grin to Charles. "Or should I say infamous?" 129

The mayor just smiled and shrugged, pushing his hands into his pants pockets. With a smile of her own, Yvonne linked an arm with her husband's. Sliding off the bench seat and coming around the end of the table, Ridge caught Drew's hand, pulling him upward. "How about we go talk about this?" Drew eyed his dad, who took the hint. "We'll head downstairs." Charles wrapped an arm around his wife's shoulder. "We've got to check on Paul and Howard, anyway." *** Once the door had closed behind Drew's parents, Ridge tugged Drew into the living room, pushing him down onto the sofa. He straddled Drew's lap, making himself at home. Linking his arms around that strong neck, his thumbs rubbed the silky hair on the back of Drew's stubborn head. His belly was churning, and he kept his voice calm with an effort. "You're going to have to decide what you want, Andrew Cunningham." The pretty eyes met his. "You think you're the only one who's mixed up and confused? Try growing up gay in North Carolina." He smirked ruefully and was glad when Drew responded with an amused grunt. "Jeez, you came into my life like a hurricane, picking everything up that was normal and tossing it around. I was minding my own business, not getting into trouble -- much." He did have to clarify that, to be truthful. He and Shelby did have their share of silly boys' nights out. Still... "I had no man in my life. Then you came along." He blew out a big sigh. "Hey. I got sent here against my will. You think I was happy about that?" Drew jerked his chin away, looking cranky again. "Stop crying about it." He covered Drew's lips with his fingers to prevent the automatic response. "Sure looks like you're better off down here, from what you've told me." He tipped his head, feeling a little cocky now. "Isn't that right?" Stubbornly, Drew kept his mouth shut. Snorting softly, Ridge rubbed the pinched lips with his fingertips before leaning forward and covering them with his mouth, sliding his tongue inside. 130

For a brief moment, Drew resisted. Then his arms locked around Ridge, and he took over the kiss, pushing his tongue deeply into Ridge's mouth. Ridge groaned as Drew slid his hands up Ridge's back, and he was pressed to the muscled chest. "God! That nipple ring makes me crazy, you know." Drew's grip tightened convulsively before he eased back, his shoulders rising as a big breath shuddered through his body. Ridge met the shadowed blue eyes briefly, before Drew dropped his head down, forehead bumping Ridge's shoulder. "Ridge -- I... you... you think your life was up-dumped..." Drew's voice was tentative, and Ridge felt a pang at hearing his tough, brash lover speak with such hesitation. Drew took another deep breath. "I came down here to... get away from insanity, and almost from the first, I've been driven crazy by you." He raised his head so that their eyes could meet. "Jesus, when you look at me like that, I... God, I don't know what's wrong with my chest." He reached up again to rub, but Ridge's hand stopped him. "I think what's wrong with your chest is what's right with us." Ridge looked with fond frustration at his obstinate lover. "It's not physical as much as it's... not physical." Okay, he couldn't exactly get it out either. Reluctant comprehension lit the turquoise gaze. "Uh-huh." He paused. "So... who's going to go first?" Oooh. Maybe he wasn't quite ready to step out on that limb after all. Drew was watching him closely. Ridge was slightly annoyed to see a flash of amusement cross Drew's face, though the big shoulders were still tense. The city boy sighed a gusty breath. "I told you I could be an asshole." The words were slow, and Drew shook his head as he continued. "I didn't want any of this. I don't... didn't want to need anybody -- and I especially didn't want to need you." Ridge swallowed. That stung. Drew stared squarely at Ridge, finally. "Don't look at me like that. You wanted to hear this. And I'm trying to be honest." Ridge frowned at him and was gratified to see Drew ease back a little. "You... you were right. Okay? You can hurt me -- and I don't like that. 131

I don't like any of this -- well, maybe when we're going crazy fucking each other," that was accompanied by a sheepish grin, "but, somehow, you've gotten under my skin and--" Drew finished in a burst, "I think about you all the time -- I want to be with you all the time -- God! It's making me crazy." He looked at Ridge. Ridge took a slow and careful breath, relieved beyond measure. "Wow." He leaned his forehead against Drew's for a long moment, then leaned away to look at him again. "I think... that's called love. You just need to take a deep breath, relax, and accept it." His drawl was very pronounced now as he gripped those strong shoulders, shaking them slightly. "Otherwise we're going to kill each other." The turquoise eyes were very serious as they stared at Ridge. "I've never said that to anyone... ever. I don't... have relationships." His emphasis on the word was a little snide. "I don't -- like to be vulnerable." This last admission was whispered but steady. "Tell me something I don't know." Ridge cupped his hands on those scruffy, unshaven cheeks and kissed the downturned lips. Drew eyed him sideways. "I, well, I really haven't let anyone get close to me since I was a teenager." "What about your parents? Don't you have a good relationship with them? They came all the way here to make sure you were doing all right in your new town." "Well, yeah -- I suppose. I guess I made it hard for them, though." Drew gazed over Ridge's shoulder, remembering. His next words were stark. "They... adopted me when I was fourteen. When... I was... I was attacked by a group of kids at the place I was living. Ever since then..." "What happened?" "I was living in a group home." Drew looked up from his contemplation of Ridge's T-shirt. "I never knew my birth parents... as it turns out, it didn't matter, since Charles and Yvonne Stratton are my real parents. Anyway." His gaze shifted to the side. "Some of the guys caught me with another kid, a... boy... and they beat the shit out of us. They broke my arm and cracked some ribs. They put Bobby in a coma." Heart aching, Ridge watched as Drew kept his eyes lowered. He fiddled with Ridge's T-shirt again. 132

"I was in the hospital with internal injuries for about a week. While I was there, I met my mom and dad. They'd heard about me from a social worker because I couldn't be returned to the home. They'd been trying to adopt a baby but took me instead." Drew smiled slightly. "To this day, I still don't know why. Taking me instead of a kid where they could have had a fresh start." He shrugged. "They arrested those freaks, but nothing ever came of it. I heard later that Bobby ended up being okay, but I never saw him again." He set his hands on Ridge's hips, his fingers gripping firmly. Ridge was gratified when Drew met his gaze head-on once more. "I'm telling you this so you know that I don't know love. I don't know how to do this." He was shaking his head slightly in concert with his statement. Ridge listened to Drew's history with sadness, feeling a stab of pity for the boy he had been. Not a surprise that the seminal event had shaped him into a man determined to avoid emotional entanglements. Now, Ridge shook his head in wonder, staring in dawning awareness at the older but not wiser man. "You really don't know, do you?" "I just told you that!" He laughed softly. "No, sorry, I meant that you really don't know that you're surrounded by love." Still hanging onto Drew's shoulder with one hand, he waved the other in the air. "I could see it in your dad's and mom's eyes. They didn't fly down here because they don't care. And I can see when you talk about them that you love them, too. You may not have said it to them -- but you feel it. And Elsa and Bella -- they may be animals, but they're just as capable of loving as humans. I know you love them." He kissed his stubborn lover again, this time slowly and thoroughly. "You just need practice saying it. Let's try together. Say it like this." He smiled as he started, "I." He kissed Drew, then leaned back, waiting. An unwilling smile answered him. "I." "Love." Drew tilted his head. "Um. Love." The smile, though crooked, grew wider. Chuckling, Ridge leaned forward and nipped that pouty lower lip. "You." "You." 133

Chapter 17

Anywhere is paradise. It's up to you. Ridge Huntington When Ridge and Drew got to the inn, they found Drew's parents seated at a table near a sunny window, drinking iced tea. Drew's steps stuttered briefly as he spotted Rae standing next to the table. Ridge stopped walking and looked over at him, brows raised inquiringly. "Your sister." Drew kept his voice low as he tried not to scowl. "She doesn't like me." Snorting, Ridge reached to take his hand, pulling Drew forward a step. "Come on, tough guy. I'll protect you." Drew looked around the dining room as they moved to his parents' table. He spotted Paul and Howard watching them from across the room. Although they both appeared surprised to see him holding hands with Ridge, Drew was relieved when he got nothing more than a casual smile and wave from both men. The subject had never come up back in Chicago, but his father's security team had to have known about him. They walked over to the Stratton table, where Charles rose from his seat at their approach. Drew focused on his parents. "I see you boys worked things out. That was quick." Charles reached out to slide a hand up Drew's shoulder. Hesitating only a moment, Drew softly brushed that hand away and instead moved closer to hug his father. Charles paused for just a moment before his arms came around his son. They stayed like that for a long moment. "Thanks, Dad." He whispered the words. Jeez, this emotion stuff was hard on a guy. Drew looked at Ridge and caught the smile of approval. Suddenly bashful -- and not at all familiar with that feeling -- he moved next to his mother, his head down. Drew knelt by her chair, wanting to get it right. It took him a few seconds, and he had to practice in his head first, but his voice 134

was firm. "I love you, Mom." His throat was a little tight, and his whisper was scratchy, but he got it out. Yvonne hugged him back, resting her head on his shoulder. When she pulled away, her eyes were shining with tears. "I love you too, baby. I always have." Drew couldn't help but frown for just a second when he felt his own eyes burning. "You are a stubborn one, though." His mother laughed softly as she wiped away a stray tear. Ridge spoke behind him. "Tell me about it." Standing, he turned to glare at his lover, but had to reluctantly smile when he saw the grin on Ridge's face. Laughing, Charles slid over to the chair next to the window, opposite Yvonne. Ridge hugged his sister before sitting down next to Drew's mother. Drew looked at Rae directly for the first time. "Good morning. Or," he dropped his gaze to his watch, "actually, I guess it's good afternoon. Just." He held out one hand. It was probably time to make nice. Rae stared, clearly trying to figure out what was going on, but her hand came up slowly to clasp his. "Good morning." Her gaze went back and forth between Ridge and Drew. She raised one brow as her glance came back to Drew. Ridge snickered softly, tilting his head at Drew while he spoke to Rae. "I know. He looks a little different, doesn't he? Not so bull-headed and snotty anymore, is he?" "Uh." Rae was smart enough to turn her laugh into a cough. Drew gave her a sideways look anyway, before making a face at his lover. He shook his head as he sat down. "Just ignore him. He's feeling his oats today." Rae cleared her throat, glancing at her brother. "We're good, Rae-Rae. We're good." "Well, all righty, then." She smiled back at Drew, relaxing. "How about some lunch for you two? I think your folks were just about to order." "I'm starving," Ridge announced. "We were going to have BLTs upstairs, but we never did get around to them. Maybe we can have them tomorrow." He looked at Drew's parents questioningly. "Will you be able to 135

stay for a few days?" "Well, we were planning to head back tomorrow night. But we might be able to talk your dad into taking Monday off." With a twinkle in her eye, Yvonne took a sip of her iced tea. "I don't think he's taken a day off in over a year. But seeing as how we have something to celebrate, I think we can stay, don't you, honey?" She raised her brows at her husband. His dad nodded with a grin before turning a pointed stare toward Drew. "We do have something to celebrate, don't we?" He was about to say yes when Rae interrupted. "What are y'all celebrating?" She looked around the table. "Well, when Drew's parents found us this morning, I was trying to convince a certain stubborn Yankee that he was in love." Ridge looked with amusement at Charles and Yvonne before shifting his gaze to Drew, his voice arch. "Somebody, who shall remain nameless, was bound and determined to hide his head in the sand." The mayor coughed behind his hand. "He had his head up his ass, more like." "Chuck!" Laughing, Yvonne slapped her husband's hand where it rested on the table. "Thanks, Dad." Drew's voice and words were wry. His dad responded by leaning back in his chair and holding his hands up in surrender. "I'm just saying, is all." "My friend Shelby says that all the time." Ridge smiled at Charles. "Don't remind me of your pain in the ass friend." Drew frowned at his lover. When Ridge responded with an eye roll, Drew shook his head at his parents. "See what I have to put up with?" He turned back to Rae, who was laughing along with Yvonne. "Can I get an iced tea, please?" He smiled nicely when he said it. Ridge leaned forward suddenly, pointing at Charles. "Hey, do you know who this is?" He looked up at Rae. "Well, yes." She looked at her brother strangely. "He's Drew's father." Ridge turned back toward Charles, frowning. "You didn't tell her." It was not a question. He made a face at the older man, then grinned. "Not only is he Drew's dad." His voice took on a tone of importance. "He's also the one and only mayor of Chicago." 136

Drew and his parents watched indulgently as Rae stood, silently for a few seconds before it clicked. "Oh, my God. Oh, my God. You're kidding." In horror, she stared at his parents before looking at Drew for assistance. When he shook his head and shrugged, she looked accusingly at her brother. "You're not kidding. Oh... my... God. Why didn't you warn me? I wanted you to fix that wall panel there," she pointed to a space off to the side, "and that light fixture in the lobby needs adjustment--" Rae covered her eyes, then looked back at Ridge. "We put off all those updates because you said you were too busy--" Yvonne reached over to Rae, taking hold of one hand. "Rae, don't even worry for a moment. This inn is incredibly charming, and you are a wonderful hostess." She looked around the wood-paneled dining room. "You have a treasure here -- and I hope you have a room available for us, since we didn't call ahead. Someone rushed me out here." She sent a dry glance at her husband. Charles just shrugged and smiled innocently. The two siblings began to argue. Drew's mother attempted to moderate the discussion. Snorting softly to himself, Drew sat back. He looked at his family -which had now grown by one very important member. He shot a look up at Rae. Um. Maybe two members? God. What in the hell had he let himself in for? He grinned. He couldn't wait to find out. Epilogue "Sweetheart, my mom and dad are going to be here any minute. Will you please hurry the hell up?" Drew yelled up the stairs, completely exasperated. It was their wedding day, and he'd been waiting downstairs for going on twenty damned minutes. Cooling his heels in the foyer of the old Duncan house -- now the Cunningham/Huntington house -- he gazed at the photos that Ridge had hung on the wall across from the stair. Upon discovering that Ridge had a passion for family photos and history, Yvonne had sent a package of old images that she'd dug out of her cabinets. Ridge's collection now included previous generations of Yvonne and Charles' families, pictures of Drew as a teenager, and photos of Ridge and Rae growing up. There were also photos of their animal children -Henry, Elsa, and Bella. 137

One of his favorite photos was from the day they'd moved into the house, almost two and a half years before. Rae had taken the photo and had captured Drew carrying a laughing Ridge over his shoulder as they'd entered their home together for the first time. Ridge had put a chunk of his savings in, and they'd agreed that he would earn the rest of his half-ownership in sweat equity as they renovated the home. Even though Drew had assisted him along the way, Ridge's carpentry skills showed off the revitalized farmhouse. The closed-off layout had been replaced with an open-flow floor plan, keeping the charm of the original and updating it with the innovations of twenty-first century design. Plus, Drew now had a new, special place; they'd added a sunroom off the kitchen, where he'd spent many an evening in the last year, lazing on the big leather sectional, watching his favorite shows on cable, or reading. "I love the one taken on the day your adoption became official." Ridge's voice came from above. Drew turned his head to watch as Ridge finally -- finally! -- came down from whatever the hell his mysterious lover had been doing upstairs. His gaze zeroed in on the firm package cradled so lovingly by the old, faded jeans. He moved to the bottom of the stair to meet his sexy lover, stopping Ridge at the bottom. Bringing lips together, he shoved his tongue forward, suddenly hungry. Ridge slid one arm up, pushing against Drew's chest to keep them separated as he pulled his head back with a gasp. "I thought you said they'll be here any minute," he complained breathlessly. A low moan escaped him as Drew grabbed his ass and ground their cocks together through their jeans. "Maybe they'll be late." Drew moved to kiss Ridge again, sliding one arm up to bring Ridge snug against him. He was stymied by Ridge's arm, which had not moved from between their bodies. "Baby, come on," he whined. They hadn't had any nookie that morning, since Ridge had taken off early to get some errands done before their guests arrived. Ridge arched his brows. "What are you? Twelve?" Drew huffed out a breath in disgust. "Yeah? Well, I kind of feel like I'm sixteen right now, if you get my drift..." Ridge snorted with laughter. "Come on, city boy. Let's make sure 138

everything is ready." Pushing past, he headed out the front door and around to the side of the veranda. *** They'd planned this day for three months. Each of them had had specific responsibilities: Ridge had gotten the caterer and the music covered, while Drew had set up the outdoor seating and coordinated the tented dining and dance area. When Ridge had mentioned asking Shelby to officiate, Drew had been ready to say absolutely not. He really didn't want that nosy brat involved at all. Despite the fact that Shelby had gone through the licensing process to conduct the wedding, and the fact that Ridge's friend had been studying various ceremonies to set the right tone and backdrop, Drew couldn't get past the fact that Shelby had been a thorn in his side from the day they'd met. Nor had he been looking forward to Shelby lording it over him at the wedding. That is, until he'd had the brilliant idea to invite Seacrest Jones to the reception. Now, standing in front of the dresser, slowly removing his bow tie, he was starting to feel a little guilty. Drew watched in the mirror as Ridge slipped off the jacket to their matching formal suits. His hungry gaze followed the unfastening of the shirt studs. "Did you see the way Jones was eyeing your buddy?" Drew watched closely to see if Ridge was pissed at him. His new husband walked up to stand beside him, dropping the studs in the wooden tray that rested on the dresser. Eying him knowingly, Ridge began unfastening a cufflink. "I cannot believe you invited that man-eater here, knowing how he's been after Shel." Tossing the jewelry onto the dresser, Ridge began toeing off his dress shoes. "He was practically drooling while Shelby made his little toast." Ridge sniffed. "Poor Shelby didn't know whether to shit or wind his watch." "Well, if the guy would just go out with Jones once and get it over with, he wouldn't have that problem." Drew hung up his jacket and took off his shirt, stuffing it in the cleaning bag. "You know Jones has the attention span of a five-year-old. Although--" He paused in thought. "He has been 139

after your dippy friend for quite a while now. That's some staying power." Drew slipped off his pants and socks. "You don't need to sound so admiring." Turning on his heel, Ridge marched into the adjoining bathroom. "That is my best friend your shark-boy is hot for." Drew heard the water turn on, and he followed the sound, comfortable in his boxer-briefs. Ridge was brushing his teeth, his open shirt moving a little, giving glimpses of that damned nipple ring he loved so well. "I've told you before. Shelby is plenty big enough to take care of himself. That boy could take on the Notre Dame front four and not have a problem." Drew frowned. "Baby, why don't you take your shirt off? In fact, why are you still dressed?" Tipping the glass to his lips, Ridge swirled some water around in his mouth, then leaned over and spat in the sink. He gave Drew a derisive glance. "Because. Until you unloaded your surprise guest on me, I was intending to give you something special tonight. Now? Now, I'm not so sure. And you know why? Shelby is a lot more sensitive than he seems. People are always fooled by his size." Drew frowned. Okay, now his conscience was starting to bother him. But the irritating son of a bitch had stuck that nose into their lives way too often. "That guy's tough as nails. In fact, I almost feel sorry for Jones." Well, not really. That joker was a survivor, but Drew couldn't let Ridge see that he might be having second thoughts about letting Jones have a crack at Shelby. He noticed Ridge staring at him out of the corner of his eye. "What?" Slowly, his husband slid the open dress shirt back, shoving hands inside the dress trouser pockets. Those pretty pink nipples, one of which had that ring he loved, were just hidden by the edge of the shirt material. "You look like you're feeling guilty. You're just lucky Jones didn't show up until the last half of dinner." Distracted by the peek-a-boo show he was watching, Drew barely heard him. "Huh?" Ridge hummed softly, his left hand coming out to slowly pull one side of the shirt back. 140

Drew sighed, loving the sight of that nipple ring. "Yum, baby. Yum." He quickly pushed off his briefs, kicking them to the wall. Ridge was being damned slow at getting undressed. Fretting, Drew took a step closer. "Let me help you." He was stopped by Ridge's right hand, held up with the palm facing him. "Oh, no, you don't. You're still in trouble." Why did that make his dick harder? It was pointing straight at Ridge, the tip wet. He pushed one hand down, cupping the head, sliding the precome around. His breath hitched as his fingers rubbed under the sensitive crest. Continuing his torture, Ridge slowly pulled back the other side of the shirt so that he could see both nipples. Drew had to stare for several seconds before he realized what he was looking at. "Holy shit." "Uh-huh." God, Ridge could sound self-satisfied when he wanted. "That's... that's a -- you got the other one pierced. Without me!" Christ, look at how sexy his man was. "It was supposed to be your wedding present. Now I'm kind of thinking it's a good thing you can't touch it for a while. You've been a bad boy today." Drew was about ready to sit up and beg -- or woof like Elsa did when she wanted something. He nodded, salivating. "Uh-huh." He was already picturing his fingers tugging on both of those rings, twisting them, pinching the nipples that held them... Ridge slipped off the shirt, laying it over the kneewall between the vanity and the toilet. He unfastened his trousers and slowly let them drop down his legs. "I'm going to get in the shower." Drew's head swiveled as he watched his sexy guy lower the dimmer switch on the lights before sliding the heavy glass door back and turning on the water. Hmmm. He hurried to brush his teeth, then followed, stepping in behind Ridge. Steam drifted upward inside the large shower stall, and the wide, clerestory windows showcased the evening sky. The sun was still setting, and it cast an orange-purple glow in the bathroom. Sidling around, Drew watched as Ridge slowly washed that sexy golden body with a sudsy loofah. Pouring gel on both hands, he moved 141

behind Ridge as he rubbed his palms together, then slid them down Ridge's belly, around the slim hips, and over the tight ass cheeks. Spreading the fingers of one hand between the swell of chest muscles, he pressed his lips to Ridge's ear. "Lean back, okay?" With a sigh, Ridge acquiesced, and Drew took control of the loofah. He directed Ridge's hand all around, sliding the soap bubbles around his husband's shoulders and chest, the taut belly, the long thighs. Dropping the body sponge, he wrapped his fingers around the pretty cock that was swollen and twitching, just asking for his attention. He murmured soothingly as he used a slow jacking motion. "That's it, baby, just relax." At the same time, he couldn't keep his own dick from burrowing between the cheeks of Ridge's ass. "Can I touch it?" While his hips kept time with his heartbeat, his eyes were glued to the new piercing. Wet blond hair sliding off his brow, Ridge tilted his head back enough to meet Drew's gaze. "Nope. Hands off, city boy. At least for a while." At least his husband was smiling at him again. Sighing, Drew began tugging faster on Ridge's dick, using his free hand to cup and massage the furry balls. "Let me make you feel good." Ridge brought both arms up, sliding them around Drew's neck. He gripped tightly as Drew stretched long fingers back, massaging and pressing his taint. "God, Drew, you know just where to touch me." Body flushing with heat at that claim, Drew's arms closed tightly around his new husband almost in reflex before he made an effort to relax. Breathing hard, he shook his head. "I'm... I want you to know, I'm trying to be a gentleman... since it's -- it's our wedding night and all." Swallowing roughly, he closed his eyes and tried to stay in control. But the sexy body that was pressing and rubbing against his was driving him crazy. "Don't." He opened his eyes. "What?" "Don't." Ridge moaned low, rolling his hips and pushing his ass back into Drew. "God." Drew jerked, his dick riding up, looking for home. "Don't what?" The whiskey-brown eyes gleamed in the half-light. "Don't be a gentleman." Hiccupping a breath, Ridge's lips quirked in a tiny smile. "I 142

appreciate... the effort, but--" With a groan, he hid his face against Drew's shoulder. He shifted one foot, spreading his thighs wider. "Just... don't." That was all the permission Drew needed. Still tugging Ridge off, he scrabbled blindly for the lube they kept on the ledge. His fingers brushed the pile of condoms there, and he paused, struck by what they were going to do. His throat got tight. He heaved a deep breath. "Are you sure?" Ridge's voice was low but firm. "I'm sure." Their wedding gift to each other was the decision to stop using condoms. They'd gone through the testing and talked about it frankly, but the reality of it was hitting Drew right where he lived. He and his husband were making the ultimate commitment to each other. Dropping his head back on his neck, he stared at the ceiling for a long moment before swallowing. He rubbed his cheek against Ridge's. "God, I love you." He pressed slick fingers into Ridge's tight opening, working the muscle, softening it, preparing the way. Ridge urged him on with wordless cries and groans. Shifting them, he pressed Ridge to the sidewall, spreading his weight along his husband's back. "Let me in, sweetheart." "Uh-huh." Ridge yielded with another groan. Drew pushed deep in one long slide, wanting to claim, needing to own. For the first time, he thought he might really know what it meant to make love. He was worshiping Ridge with his body and his heart. He whispered his feelings, almost mumbling. "You make me... I've got to -- I've... God, I love you, Ridge." A beatific smile was pasted on Ridge's lips, and the sexy brown eyes were closed, long lashes brushing the tanned cheeks. "I know." And the best thing was, Drew knew he was loved in return.

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