Highway Nights

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

…Oliver settled in the booth and stared across the table. “You gonna tell me why you’re really here?” “I told you. Food and conversation.” The young man didn’t bat an eye. Oliver had a good sense about men, and it said Garrett was interested in a lot more than talk. He saw no point in calling the fellow on it, not yet. It could be Garrett didn’t consciously realize what he wanted. Life handed you moments like that, and Oliver had had his fair share of them. But if the lad wanted talk, he’d be glad to get the ball rolling. “All right, then. I’ll be nosey and start our chat. So why are you working two jobs? A young fellow like you should be out clubbing every night.” “My five-point plan suffered a setback. I’m working to recoup some losses.” “Boyfriend?” Garrett sighed. “Not any longer.” And, no doubt, the ex-boyfriend was reason the five-point plan had been derailed. It usually was. Oliver could say he’d been there and done that, too, but he’d wait to see if Garrett asked first. He didn’t, so Oliver tried another topic. “Nice jeans.” “Thanks. I got a great deal on them. Twenty bucks at a yard sale.” “Good looking, hard working and frugal. You don’t find that combination every day.” Garrett sipped his cola, his blue gaze fastened on Oliver’s. “That’s me. Do you like the back pockets of my pants?” “Ah, a flaw. Vanity.” Oliver leaned back, unable to refrain from grinning at Garrett. “I noticed. I’ll say it since your ego appears to need it.” He leaned forward and kept his voice down. “Nice ass…”

ALSO BY KC KENDRICKS At The Southern Cross The Back Stairs Beneath Dark Stars Between The Moon And The Deep Blue Sea December Promise Give Me One Night A Hard Habit To Break In The Limelight Netting Neptune Night Moves No One But You Open Roads Passion’s Victory Poseidon’s Pleasure Seducing Light Shine A Light Shining Victory Small Town Boys Sundown Surrendered Victory Taming Triton Tango In The Night A Taste Of Victory What You Don’t Confess Whispered Confessions

HIGHWAY NIGHTS BY KC KENDRICKS

AMBER Q UILL PRESS, LLC http://www.AmberQuill.com

HIGHWAY NIGHTS AN AMBER QUILL PRESS BOOK This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. Amber Quill Press, LLC http://www.AmberQuill.com All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review. Copyright © 2011 by KC Kendricks ISBN 978-1-61124-169-3 Cover Art © 2011 Trace Edward Zaber

PUBLISHED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

CHAPTER 1 Garrett Webb eased off the gas pedal and turned on the fourway flashers as the faint red trail of taillights he followed vanished into the soupy fog ahead. Visibility was down to mere feet, making it a miserable night to be on the road, but he had little choice. The run to Mount Franklin two or three nights a week had finally lifted his finances back into the black. Garrett planned to stick with it for at least another two years and recoup all his losses. Well, all but the loss of his pride. He did better without that. The ultimate reason behind his fall—pride—had held him prisoner until it was too late and he’d verged on losing everything that was truly important, namely his self-respect. Pride wouldn’t cost him his life tonight. He’d make damn sure of that. It was time to find a safe place to pull off the road, lock the 1

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

doors, and take what uncomfortable rest he could manage. Come morning, the fog should lift and he could drive on. Unless… Garrett squinted at the eerie glow forming in the thick mist in front of him. Yes, there it was—The Downshift Diner. Shrouded in fog, he’d lost track of how far he’d actually driven. Venturing farther when he had a safe place to pull completely off the highway would be foolish. He held his breath no oncoming car would broadside the truck and made the left turn into the vacant parking lot. It was a testament to his foolishness no other trucks were on the road tonight. He’d get some coffee and ask the manager on duty if he could wait out the night on the premises. Garrett sighed in relief as the tension eased out of his shoulders. He called the dispatcher for permission to wait out the fog, filled out the manifest, secured the truck and entered the diner to find its single occupant at the far end of the counter, head bent. The man looked up. Even at a distance, his intense sky blue eyes were curious, but tinged with caution. Garrett tripped over the floor mat, caught himself, and glared at his feet before he turned back to the man perched on the bar stool. He couldn’t help but notice the man’s glossy brunette hair and sexy dark stubble. The clinging fabric of his long-sleeved knit shirt did little to hide the lines and planes of corded muscles. Large, strong-looking hands held a paperback novel. This fellow had to be the toast of the town somewhere. Garrett wiped his feet and greeted him. “’Ev’ning. Is it too late to get a burger?” The man shook his head as he laid his book aside. “I even have fresh hot coffee. Just put it on for myself. I didn’t expect any business tonight.” He stood and stretched. Garrett judged his powerfully built frame to be about six-foot2

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

two. His gaze swept Garrett from head to toe, and back up again, without giving away any inkling of what he thought. He pointed to the seat he’d vacated. “Have a seat down here, unless you mind paying for your burger with conversation.” “You don’t have to do that, mister. The conversation is my pleasure.” “And your burger is mine, so don’t argue with me.” He grinned, displaying even white teeth. Little lines crinkled at the corner of each eye. “I’m Oliver.” “Garrett.” He settled his butt on the pre-warmed barstool and politely refused the offer of creamer as Oliver set a steaming mug in front of him. Oliver turned the heat up on the grill. “I don’t think I’ve seen you before.” Garrett stirred a little sugar into his coffee, then blew on it before taking a cautious sip. It lived up to Oliver’s description—it was hot. And good. He set the mug down to allow it to cool. “I usually drive by a few times a week on the way to Mount Franklin, then back to Owensville.” “One or two burgers?” “Just one, thanks. The fog is brutal, and I decided it was safer to sleep in the truck and call my boss in the morning than end up as road kill.” Oliver snorted. “You got that shit right. I’ve seen a lot of stupidity on this stretch of road.” Garrett bet the man had. A wave of longing swept him as his gaze drifted down Oliver’s backside. He possessed a mature man’s frame, filled out to a controlled strength with no lingering hint of boyishness. The man had a nice ass, and the way his jeans hugged his thighs sent a shiver down Garrett’s spine, one that settled in his 3

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

balls. How long had it been since a pair of strong thighs had gripped his sides? Too long, and it would be longer still. Even if Oliver didn’t vibe straight, Garrett wasn’t about to get all stupid, not like he had with Shaun. He sighed audibly and sipped his coffee. Oliver glanced over his shoulder. “That was a deep sigh? You tired?” “Oh, yeah. I’ll just eat and go curl up in the truck, if you think the owner won’t mind me parking here until daybreak.” “I own the place, so no worries, and you can sleep inside where it’s warm and dry. Take the corner booth.” “That’s pretty generous. Are you sure?” Oliver stared out the plate glass window for a moment, then met Garrett’s gaze. “I’m just passing on a kindness, but if you’d rather sleep cold, you have at it.” Garrett hesitated, but spending the night in relative comfort held a lot more appeal than spending it cramped and damp. He didn’t want to inconvenience Oliver, but perhaps he should be gracious and accept—and keep his mouth shut so he didn’t insult the man. “The corner booth sounds great. Thanks, Oliver. I accept with gratitude.” Oliver flipped the burger and turned back to him. “Good. Now what do you want on this? Don’t say onions.” “But I like onions.” “I’m out. Sorry.” “Well, then. Hold the onions, please.” Oliver flashed him a grin and grabbed a plate. “So what outfit are you driving for?” Garrett took a swallow of coffee, absorbing the heat that spread from his belly outward. Damn, he was glad to be off the road for 4

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

the night. “Parker Transportation. We get the postal service parcel post overflow a few times a week. I never know what night I’m driving until they contact me.” Oliver slid the burger onto a bun. His curious blue eyes flicked up. “Doesn’t sound like steady work.” Garrett pulled a napkin from the holder and set his cup to the side. “I have a regular day job. This is just for extra cash.” “Is your day boss the understanding sort? You might be late showing up for work in the morning.” Oliver placed a plate in front of Garrett, then offered him the condiment tray. “Yeah, he is. He’ll be glad I exercised my better judgment and got off the road.” Garrett squeezed a generous amount of ketchup on the hamburger and slapped the roll in place. “Good.” Oliver nodded and walked away, disappearing around the corner at the end of the bar. Garrett ate his burger in silence. Finished, he flipped over the book to see the title. Maybe someday he’d have time to read again. Oliver was still in the back, so he slipped around the end of the counter and warmed his coffee. “Careful. You could end up with three jobs if you can pour without dribbling.” Garrett rolled his eyes. “I never dribble.” Oliver snorted, an amused sound, and pointed at the back booth. “It’s not much, but here’s a pillow off my sofa and a blanket. I’ll cut the lights in the corner. Maybe you can get a little shut-eye.” Garrett would have opted for more conversation, but something in his host’s demeanor said he didn’t want to talk. He’d be a poor guest if he pushed the man. He picked up his cup. 5

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

“Once again, my thanks.” Oliver nodded, retrieved his book, and walked to the other end of the long room. Garrett eased into the booth and carefully slid the table a few inches to make more room. He hesitated a moment, then kicked off his worn cross-trainers before he curled up on the narrow bench. The overhead lights dimmed, darkening the booth. He shook the small blanket out over his feet and draped his jacket over his shoulders. How many times had he driven past the diner in the last two years? Three hundred? More? It didn’t matter. He’d stop in at least once a week now for a cup of coffee and twenty minutes worth of conversation. And if he didn’t get conversation, that was okay, too. At least it would be a few precious moments in the company of another man who wouldn’t hit on him. Garrett closed his tired eyes and was instantly asleep. *

*

*

Oliver rotated his shoulders to ease the stiffness creeping into his spine. Most nights he moved around enough behind the counter to stay loose, but not tonight. In a strange way, he was grateful for the company of his sleeping companion. The fog brought a sense of unnatural isolation to the world, a lack of presence and movement. He’d given serious consideration to closing the diner for the night and had insisted his night cook stay home. On the verge of locking the door, he decided to stay open in case someone needed help in the fog. He glanced across the room at the still shape in the booth. It looked like his instincts were right. Cute fellow, that Garrett, if you liked your men long and lean, 6

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

which Oliver did. The boy looked tired, his incredibly bright azure eyes framed by dusky gray smudges of exhaustion. Why did the kid feel it necessary to work two jobs? Money was the quick answer—it always was—but what could be the need to push himself to do something dangerous like be on the road tonight? Oliver shook his head and settled his gaze back on the lines of text in front of him. It wasn’t his business, any of it. He didn’t need to spout off unsolicited advice, no matter how good it might be. Sure he did. He knew better than most what operating a motor vehicle with your ass dragging could cause. He’d spent months in a hospital after falling asleep on his bike and crashing into a car. Thank God he was the only one hurt. He’d given up hard drinking after that. Oliver stared out the window. Even after twenty intervening years, he struggled to admit to himself the whole story. It wasn’t just that he’d fallen asleep. He’d passed out from too much whiskey on top of too much cocaine on top of several nights of general debauchery. After the accident, he’d walked away from everything, all of it, and had been clean and sober since. The booze and dope were easy to get along without. It was a lot more difficult to stay away from the boys in the back room at Tops and Bottoms. Oliver ached for touch, but accepted he wasn’t the sort of fellow to have permanent relationships. Nor was he willing to put himself at risk the way he had when he was a young fool. The past had too many shadows that didn’t deserve to see the light of day ever again. On his narrow bunk, Garrett stirred. Oliver watched, curious to see if the young man needed anything, but he merely wiggled his way onto his other side, pulled his jacket up across his shoulders, and settled again. Oliver laid his paperback aside and stepped 7

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

behind the counter to pour another cup of coffee. Twin sets of headlights lit the mist as a pair of cars inched past the diner. It was five o’clock and time to prepare for the breakfast crowd. Maybe he’d whip up a few casseroles that could be quickly warmed. The truckers loved ’em. He had plenty of eggs and potatoes, plus enough bacon, sausage, and veggies to offer a bit of variety, and dried, diced onions would be adequate for the recipes. Oliver took another swig of his coffee and got to work. He’d just checked on the baking dish in the oven when Garrett sat up and stretched. “’Morning, Garrett.” Garrett yawned. “So you say. What time is it?” Oliver pointed at the wall above Garrett’s head. “Five-twenty. That’s A.M., too.” He pointed. “The head’s through there.” “Thanks.” Garrett crawled from the booth, groaning. He looked over his shoulder. “Coffee?” Oliver grinned at the hopeful look on Garrett’s face. “Yeah, coffee. I got ya covered.” Garrett flashed him a bright, sexy smile and disappeared into the hallway that led to the restrooms. Oliver stared at his backside. Why the hell did he have to notice the kid’s cute little ass? It’s not like he read Garrett as gay and interested, and he was pretty good at reading men. It did clear up one question, though. Those designer jeans must have cost a bundle. If Garrett spent his disposable income on clothing in that price range, it wasn’t surprising he needed two jobs. The timer buzzed, and Oliver slid the first breakfast casserole out of the oven and onto the cook top. Garrett returned from the men’s room and busied himself folding up the blanket. He bent over to retrieve the pillow from the floor. Oliver sighed and shook 8

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

his head. An ass that perfect was wasted on a straight man.

9

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

CHAPTER 2 Oliver set a breakfast plate at the end seat on the counter and pointed at it as Garrett placed the pillow and folded blanket on the table. “You sit down and eat before you leave. Coffee coming up.” Garrett didn’t quibble. He did as ordered without comment, and Oliver liked that. On the other hand, he hated to have to fish for compliments on his cooking. “So?” Garrett looked up from his plate, mouth working. He shook his head and shrugged. Oliver rolled his eyes toward the heavens. “How’s the grub?” Garrett nodded vigorously and swallowed. “Great! I can’t believe I’ve missed out on your cooking for so long. That’s going 10

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

to change.” Oliver watched him eat. Sure, it would change. The kid would be out of here and never return. That was the way of things, and Oliver didn’t expect anything different. He warmed up the boy’s coffee. Garrett murmured his thanks as his cell phone started to sing good morning. The young man silenced the alarm, then pressed the screen to make a call. Curiosity might kill the cat, but Oliver wasn’t a cat. He eavesdropped shamelessly on Garrett’s conversation with his day job boss, relieved the young man was able to go home, grab a shower, and take a nap in his own bed before going to work. No one received an exemption from the odd turns life occasionally tossed at a person, and Oliver was glad Garrett’s boss seemed understanding. The air in the diner swirled, moving in that peculiar way it did when a door opened to the outside world. Oliver didn’t have to wonder who’d come in the back. A rainy, foggy night always brought Sammy to the diner in the morning. Oliver liked Sammy, as a person and a man, but Sammy was just one of those things. He stopped by, they blew off a little steam, and Sammy disappeared until the next time. They knew how to please each other, but outside of the bedroom, they didn’t cross paths, and Oliver preferred it that way. Sammy slid onto the barstool beside Garrett. They nodded at each other, but Garrett appeared more focused on his meal than conversation. “Hey, Oliver.” “Sammy. Hungry?” “Need you ask?” No, he didn’t need to ask. Oliver scooped a helping of the egg, bacon and potato casserole on a plate and set it in front Sammy, 11

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

along with small can of tomato juice and a glass. Sammy could pour his own. “Thanks, Oliver. Do you have time to talk?” Maybe curiosity would kill him. Sammy wasn’t a talker. He was more about the action. Oliver nodded. “Sure. Soon as my day staff gets here, we can go up to the house. You okay?” “I need some advice and I can’t think of anyone else whose opinion I value like I do yours.” Oliver watched Garrett’s lowered gaze slide sideways and refused to laugh. So the boy recognized manure when he heard someone sling the bullshit around. Garrett eased off the stool and fished a wad of bills out of his pocket. “How much do I owe you, Oliver?” “Take your money and give it where it’ll help someone who needs a hand. You can pay for your breakfast next time.” “Thanks, man.” Garrett reached for his jacket. “You’re welcome. Be careful out there.” Garrett nodded and walked along the length of the counter and out the door. Oliver turned back to Sammy and smacked his arm. “Stop looking at his ass.” Sammy grinned. *

*

*

Garrett’s cell phone jingled as it vibrated across his desk. He snatched it up and turned off the alarm that signaled it was ten minutes to four, and time to shut down his workstation for the day. He couldn’t leave, not right now. The processor he’d just repaired was in the middle of an important update, and his choices were 12

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

limited. He could let the system run unattended, which was against departmental policy, or he could ask someone else to keep an eye on it, which also ran afoul of generally accepted operating procedures. So much for having options. Garrett opted to stretch another, less enforced rule, and pressed a speed dial button on his cell phone. His team leader knew he worked a second job and occasionally needed to make a personal call. The call connected and he advised the trucking company he was stuck at the office for at least another half-hour. The dispatcher on duty told him not to hurry. The dock crew was behind schedule, and his truck had only now been backed up to the bay for loading. That meant another late night getting home. God, he was tired. If he had any sense, he’d give up the run tonight and get some sleep. He almost—almost—asked the dispatcher to call in the next driver down the list. Doing that meant he might not get a run later in the week, and even beyond, so he kept his mouth shut. It was petty on the part of the inside personnel, but it was the reality of the job situation. Garrett snapped the phone closed. No matter what time he got out of the depot, he’d make time to stop and thank Oliver for taking care of him last night. Oliver. The man had been on his mind off and on all day. Mostly on. How silly was that? His first impression of Oliver was he was straight. Then Sammy had come in and sat down, and what had vibed between those two men was pure sex. Good for Sammy, but too bad for him. Garrett didn’t think he’d waste a lot of time talking to Oliver if the man invited him to his house. He’d toss Oliver onto his back in heartbeat. They could talk 13

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

afterward if they had the breath for conversation. The computer beeped to indicate the updates were complete. Garrett quickly shut it down, grabbed his gym bag, and bolted for the men’s room to change into jeans. He stepped out into the muggy heat of the afternoon to find another unpleasant surprise waited for him. A slender blond man leaned against his sedan. His unfaithful ex-lover was the last person he wanted to deal with. Garrett took a deep breath and bit back the angry words that threatened to spew out of him. Shaun would turn anything he said back on him, and Garrett refused to give him any fodder. He would remain outwardly calm even if it killed him. And it could happen because his head might just explode if he lost his temper. “Shaun…what do you need?” “What makes you think I need something, GT?” “History. Lots and lots of history.” Garrett pressed a button on the keyless entry to open the trunk. “I’m late for my second job. You know, the one I had to take when you dumped all your bad debts on me and used my credit cards without permission.” Shaun bit his lower lip and looked away. “I’m sorry, man. That’s why I’m here.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a slip of paper. “Take this. Please.” Suspicious, Garrett accepted the offering and looked at the check for two thousand dollars. Heaven only knew if it was funded or if it would bounce sky high. “That’s a start, but you’ve got about twenty more to go. I hope you didn’t ‘borrow’ this from your current sucker to pay me.” Garrett slipped the check into his pocket. Good or not, he’d deposit it and see what happened. Shaun shook his head. “I didn’t, and it’s good, by the way. I’m 14

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

sorry, GT. I did some foolish things.” “That’s an understatement.” Garrett slung his bag into the trunk and slammed the lid. “Look, Garrett, I’m not with Will anymore. He left me.” Garrett shooed Shaun away from the driver’s door. “So that’s why the check, eh? You want to buy your way back to me?” “Don’t be cruel. I’ve grown up in the last two years.” Maybe he had, just a little. The Shaun he’d been with would never have had the courage to come here, nor would he ever part with any money. Shaun spent every penny he acquired on himself. Garrett opened the car door. “I have to go. Thanks for the partial repayment.” He dropped into the driver’s seat and pulled the door. Shaun grabbed it before it closed. He laid his hand on Garrett’s. “I am sorry, Garrett. It will take me a while, but I’ll pay you back.” The money was least of it. How could anyone “pay back” for the lies and betrayal, and the pain and tears? Whether Shaun came up with the funds to make things right or not made no difference at this juncture. Garrett simply didn’t want to become involved with him on any level ever again. “I want never to see you again. You want to pay back the money? Fine. Mail it to me. You have the address.” Garrett yanked the car door out of Shaun’s grasp and engaged the locks the moment it closed. He turned the ignition switch, put the sedan in gear, and drove away, shaking inside with anger. Damn Shaun! Seeing him again brought it all back. All the half-truths, the then-unexplained absences, the irresponsibility and panic as the financial bills mounted. Obviously, he hadn’t put it as far behind 15

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

him as he’d thought. The little voice of Truth sounded in his mind. The entire affair would never be in the past. Every time he met someone, he’d wonder if he could trust him…and the answer would be he couldn’t. Never again would he allow himself to fall in love. Love was for fools, and people who couldn’t stand on their own two feet. Garrett’s chest hurt. He wouldn’t go through all that love bullshit again. Ever. Even going back to the diner to thank Oliver again wasn’t the best plan now that he knew the man was gay. Sure, Oliver was drop-dead sexy in a rough and tumble, could-have-been-a-biker sort of way, but that was no reason to permit his heart to race and his dick to get hard over the man. Garrett had to stick to his plan. He had to get out of debt and get the dream of having his own tech repair business back on track. He was thirty-two, which meant he had only eight years to make it happen within his original timeframe. Maybe he was too ambitious. When he reached forty, he’d have twenty years in with the city government, and he could retire with a nice nest egg and funds to invest. After that, give his own business fifteen years, and he could retire for real as a millionaire. Unless, that is, he was fool enough to allow his penis to take control of his life again and get involved with another Shauntype—or someone worse. No, Garret was not about to permit his life to get out of control ever again. Unbidden, Truth whispered softly to him, sharing her best wisdom. It’s up to you to decide how you live, but don’t close the door to possibilities. 16

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

CHAPTER 3 Lady Luck is a fickle mistress, and she tossed Garrett a bone. Maybe she thought she owed him one after she’d forced him to deal with Shaun. It didn’t matter to him. He arrived at the depot after a quick stop to deposit the check and found his truck fully loaded, gassed and ready to go. He thanked the dock crew and hit the road, shifting through the gears as fast as possible. It was only a few minutes past five, and he had a good chance of being asleep by midnight, if all went smoothly. He cruised into the parking lot of The Downshift Diner eighty minutes later. Unfortunately, Oliver wasn’t behind the counter. Garrett ordered a ham-and-Swiss sandwich, and chatted up the waitress on duty enough to learn Oliver would be in around nine. Perfect. 17

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

Mount Franklin was forty minutes away. It could take up to about an hour to get the paperwork executed and switch trucks for the drive back to Owensville. That put his arrival time back at the diner at about nine to quarter after. He grabbed a bottled soda and got back on the road with a little prayer the trip would continue without incident. It did, and he parked the empty box truck in front of the diner at nine-twenty-one. Garrett logged the stop in the manifest as a rest break and went inside. Oliver stood midway down the counter, his attention focused on the attractive bearded man Garrett had seen this morning. He wore a navy T-shirt tonight, the short sleeves displaying an array of colorful tattoos dancing across his muscled forearms. He glanced over and his gaze locked with Garrett’s. Oliver nodded, smiled, and motioned for Garrett to join them. “Nice to see you again, Garrett. Have a seat. Coffee?” Garrett slid onto the stool. “Coffee would be great. I just wanted to thank you again for last night.” The bearded man stared at him, curiosity evident in his bold features. Oliver poured a cup of dark, aromatic brew for him. “This is the fellow I told you about, Sammy. The one with enough sense to come in out of the fog.” “Oh, yeah. You were here this morning. Nice to meet you, but now it’s my turn to run.” He held out his hand to Oliver. “I have to go.” Instead of a handshake, Oliver leaned over the counter and kissed him. Garrett’s eyebrows met his hairline. Somehow he had the presence of mind to snap his mouth closed before his jaw dropped to the floor. He blinked, several times, as Sammy slipped Oliver 18

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

the tongue. The blood pooled in his groin. Those two were obviously more than friends. Damn, that kiss was better than a porn movie lip lock. I’d kiss him better than that. Garrett ignored the flash of heat that skittered across his skin. He’d seen guys swap spit before, just not recently. Oliver pulled away. “See ya around, Sammy. Bring the new guy by so I can hit on him.” Sammy laughed. “I don’t think so. He might cruise you, and that would piss me off.” He sobered, his gaze sad as he spoke softly. “’Bye, Oliver.” Oliver pressed his lips together and nodded, then Sammy walked away. Garrett stared at his retreating backside. That sounded like a serious goodbye. “Um, did I mess that up for you by stopping in?” “No. You probably saved me from doing something stupid again.” Oliver wiped up a few drops on the counter. “You didn’t ask, but I guess you don’t have to now, do you?” Garrett’s fingers shook as he opened a packet of sugar and dumped it into his java. “Ask what? If you’re gay?” He took a deep breath and met Oliver’s intense stare. “Why don’t you ask me?” *

*

*

Oliver’s surprise at Garrett strolling into the diner suffered an eclipse. He’d not pegged Garrett as gay, and his “gaydar” rarely missed. Perhaps the aura of exhaustion that had surrounded the young man last night had something to do with it. Garrett projected a livelier energy tonight. 19

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

“Okay. You gay?” Garrett sipped his coffee, then set the mug down. “I’m always a happy fellow.” The boy’s hand trembled. Maybe he got nervous coming out to a new acquaintance. He’d been there a few times, too. Oliver tapped the counter. “And a smart ass to boot. So, are you?” “Yeah.” Oliver took a mental step back at the pained note in Garrett’s voice. Now wasn’t the time to pry. That forced reply called for a different approach. “I get a little stressed over it, too, sometimes. It’s like I’m out of step somehow, even though I know I’m really not.” Garrett ran his fingers through his short, dark hair, from his forehead straight back to his crown, and sighed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to sound like I think it’s a bad thing for me to be who I am.” He licked his lips. “So is the guy that just left, like, a boyfriend?” “Never that, no, but we’ve been…available…for each other, if you get my drift.” Lord, it sounded tawdry, slutty even, to say it aloud to this young man. Garrett merely nodded and took another sip of his coffee. Oliver poured a cup of java for himself and waited for Garrett to say something. He didn’t speak, so Oliver did. “I suppose you’re not old enough to be grateful for a fuck buddy arrangement.” Garrett fixed him with a wary blue gaze. “I’m older than you think.” Oliver wondered just how old he might be. He didn’t look a day over twenty-five. “Cursed with good youthful appearance genes?” “Something like that. Actually, I could use an ‘arrangement’ 20

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

myself these days.” Garrett froze, eyes wide. “I, um, didn’t mean to imply we— Not that you’re not… Fuck.” The sudden vision of Garrett’s dark head bowed over him sucked the air from Oliver’s chest. His mouth went dry. The last thing he wanted to do was turn horny fool over this fellow. He cleared his throat. “It’s okay. I know what you mean. Actually, I’m not looking to jump back into anything, either.” “So that really was the big goodbye?” “Yeah.” A grin split Garrett’s face. “And you’re all broken up over it?” Oliver smiled and lifted his cup. “Yeah.” Garrett lifted his coffee cup and tapped it to Oliver’s. “Hey, I’ve got to get going. I just wanted to thank you again for last night.” “Anytime you need it, the booth is yours, although next time the visibility goes to zero, I expect you to stay the hell off the highway from the get-go.” Garrett gulped the rest of his coffee. “I hear ya, but I need the job. My last breakup wasn’t as friendly as yours.” He rolled to his feet and fished his keys out of his pocket. “I’ll tell you all about it sometime.” “I’ll hold you to it. Now scram so you can get some sleep tonight.” “Yes, Daddy.” Garrett was out the door before Oliver could reply. Oliver watched the younger man climb into the truck, then pull out onto the highway. He propped his elbows on the counter. Garrett’s visit had cheered him. It wasn’t that he felt sad over parting ways with Sammy, or even lonely. They’d never been in 21

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

love with each other, never made any promises. The sex had been better than adequate, true, but not mind-blowing. They were, and always would be, friends. Oliver warmed his coffee and took it to the back booth. Instead of picking up his paperback novel, he stared wistfully out the window into the night. A chapter had closed on his life and it settled him into a reflective mood. He’d made a lot of mistakes in his life, too many to count. Most of them had been fueled by cocaine and booze, but that wasn’t any excuse. He’d turned his life around, one hundred and eighty degrees, but the memories—and regrets—lingered. At forty-four years of age, he had a lot of living left to do. His Uncle Oliver, for whom he was named, had taken him in twenty years ago and kicked his ass all the way to the straight and narrow. Not long before he died, Uncle Ollie had told him not to feel obligated to stay after he was gone. Cancer had claimed his uncle’s life less than a year after that and the diner, house, and life insurance came to him. Oliver had given serious thought to selling the property and moving on, but it hadn’t felt like the right thing to do, so he stayed. He met all sorts of people through the diner; some became friends. He was his own boss and it wasn’t a bad living. “Penny for your thoughts.” Oliver glanced behind the counter. “I doubt they’re worth that much, Murf.” “Probably not. Did you eat? You’re getting too thin.” His night cook was a mother hen. “Thin is good for a gay man, don’t you know?” “What the fuck would I know about that? Now do you want the last oatmeal cookie or not?” Oliver slid from the booth and held his hand out for the cookie. 22

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

“Why don’t you bake a batch of ginger snaps?” “No one eats ’em but you, so you’ll get chocolate chip with walnuts or nothing.” Oliver held his hands up in a gesture of defeat and took his cookie back to the booth. So much for being the boss. He checked the time—twenty past ten. Garrett should be close to Owensville by now. Nice fellow, that Garrett, stopping by to say thanks. Usually, only the big rig truckers bothered with such a simple courtesy. They knew the value of having friends along the road. Oliver didn’t expect Garrett to come in the diner again. Reason one, by his own admission, he’d driven past a couple of times a week, every week, over the course of the last few years and never stopped. Oliver could guess why. With two jobs, the young man didn’t have time. He needed to complete his run, go home, and get some sleep. Reason two was more personal—Garrett had shared his secret, and perhaps wished he hadn’t. There wasn’t much he could do to ease Garrett’s mind if he didn’t come back. He’d like to find a way to convince Garrett… That was silly. Why did he think it necessary to prove to a stranger that with Sammy settling down with a partner he hadn’t lost the love of his life or a friend? Relationships were what they were. You accepted people for who they were or you got used to being alone. Maybe Garrett thought since he’d lost his fuck buddy that he’d cruise him. Would it be such a bad thing to have happen? Garrett was attractive. Oliver sucked in a quick breath. He had no business thinking what he was thinking. And hoping. Garrett was too young for him. He’d do better to look up that older guy at Tops and Bottoms who was so interested in him. 23

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

Given time, he could learn to like leather pants. Or not.

24

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

CHAPTER 4 Saturday mornings were for sleeping late and getting some much needed rest. Garrett opened one eye and glared at the clock. Why the hell was he awake at five minutes to six? Oh yeah. He needed some new clothes and if you didn’t get to the yard sales early, the best jeans were gone. Garrett pulled the bedding into place around him, and slipped out from under the sheet with great care. He tugged out a wrinkle in the spread and called it a good enough. He had more important things to angst about than making the bed to his mother’s standards. Showered and dressed, he found a pair of comfortable blue jeans and a T-shirt and got ready to join the weekly bargainhunting fray. There was no point in putting on a pot of coffee since he was 25

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

heading out for the morning, so he filled a travel cup with orange juice over cracked ice and stepped out into the morning chill. With any luck, he’d score a few things and then crash for the rest of the day. He’d driven the last three nights in a row, and company policy said he had to have a night off. It was in the back of his mind to drive out to The Downshift Diner for dinner. It would be nice to have people around for a while to help him feel less alone. Maybe Oliver would be working and they could talk more. Or maybe he should stop by the grocery store to restock his pantry and stay the heck home instead of going to look for trouble. He could always swallow his anger and call Curtis. Curtis had purported to be his friend once upon a time, but Garrett’s relationship with Shaun had driven him away. No, calling Curtis would only make his loneliness worse. His “friend” would never be able to refrain from heaping mounds of “I told you so” on him. He’d end up angrier, and he didn’t need to do that to himself. Garrett eased his car to a stop at the first yard sale. It didn’t take long for him to move on to the next one. The man of the house was considerably larger than he was. It was too bad, too, because he could have scored a black leather duster for ten bucks. It wasn’t quite his style, but for that price, he’d have worn it as a raincoat. The next place yielded three polo-style pullovers with brand name logos. Since one of the shirts was his favorite turquoise, he had to buy them. Six dollars for the lot. People thought he dressed like he had money, and Garrett didn’t divulge his secret—he was a yard sale junkie. Judiciously buying used saved him a lot of money. He folded the blue shirt and wondered if he had time to launder it before dinner. Okay, he didn’t need to call Oliver’s attention to his eyes. If he 26

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

went to the diner, it would be for conversation, not to flirt. He stopped at four more sales before he finally spotted a pair of denim jeans he couldn’t walk away from. Dark blue with silver designs on the back pockets, they still had the original sixty-dollar price tag on the waistband. The snug cut would make his ass look incredible, and Garrett handed over the twenty-dollar asking price without haggling. The woman smiled and flirted with him, then gave him a pair of generic brand khakis suitable for his day job for free. Garrett thanked her and hustled back to his car before the temptation to buy something he didn’t need got the better of him. He’d done well enough for one morning and he headed for home to get some rest. It didn’t happen. Back at his apartment, he paced the floor, unable to settle. The bi-monthly laundry load of towels didn’t take nearly long enough, and his usual ability to nap failed him. When the sun eased toward late afternoon, he admitted to himself if he didn’t go see Oliver, he’d never sleep. He showered and shaved, and wearing his new fancy-pocketed jeans, headed to the diner. What did he hope to accomplish by seeing Oliver again? Sure, the man was gorgeous, but the pull to see him again was deeper than skin. Didn’t he owe it to himself to discover what it was? Besides, Oliver had said it himself. He was older and had a more mature outlook on life. The thing was, Garrett found that extremely appealing. He’d had enough drama in his life. Every serious relationship he’d been in had been doomed by immaturity on the part of the other guy. If they weren’t jealous of every guy he knew before them, they were bitching about how many hours he spent on the job. He was paid for forty hours, so he worked forty hours. Garrett saw it as a no-brainer, yet every one of them had complained, and Shaun had 27

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

been the worst of the lot. It was all about them. The whole dating scene left Garrett exhausted. He wanted to be on equal footing with the guy in his life, if such a man ever came along. One thing Garrett knew for certain—he was never going to repeat the mistakes of the past. About a dozen vehicles sat in the diner’s parking lot. Garrett pulled in between a Harley Softail and a mini-van. How would he explain his presence tonight? Did he even need to? He could order dinner. That was self-explanatory. Oliver would probably see right through him, but the world wouldn’t end. It never did. Inside the diner, a jovial atmosphere surrounded him. Garrett slid onto the vacant barstool at the end of the counter nearest the door and peered down its long length to where Oliver stood, a bottle of ketchup in hand, laughing with a young couple. The girl shook her fork at him and the laughter got louder. Oliver set the bottle down and turned. His blue gaze collided with Garrett’s. His chin lifted. Garrett sat, breathless, and waited. Oliver nodded. *

*

*

He was about to turn fool and cruise that young man. Desire crept over his skin, claiming him inch by inch to hold him hostage to the idea of getting Garrett on his back. He’d watched Garrett drive into the parking lot and followed his progress along the front of the building and through the front door. Holy mother, but if his ass looked that good in tight jeans, he’d shell out the bucks for designer duds with fancy back pockets, too. Oliver walked the length of the counter toward Garrett, never 28

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

breaking eye contact. He paused and rapped on the food passthrough. “Hey, Murf, I’m off duty.” “Oh, no. Not until you eat!” Murf appeared at the kitchen entrance and assessed the situation. “Oh, jeez, here we go again.” “Shut up, Murphy.” Oliver grinned at Garrett. “He thinks he’s my mother.” Garrett pressed his lips together before his sexy lips formed a smile. “Mom needs a shave.” “What about you? What do you need?” “I drove out here for food and conversation.” The husky timbre of Garrett’s voice sent a wave of heat through Oliver. The skin on the back of his thighs and buttocks prickled. “I’ve got all night. Pick a topic.” Garrett swallowed, hard, the muscles in his throat moving. Oliver watched, his entire being alert to the young man’s every breath. He willed Garrett to suggest they find a quieter, more private, place to talk. “Not politics. Too volatile. We don’t know each other well enough for debate.” Garrett tapped the canister in front of him. “Can I have a cookie?” “Sure.” It was on the tip of his tongue to say Garrett could have him, but he held it in check. Before this evening was over, Oliver would make sure this young man knew he wanted him, but it would be foolish to rush and risk ruining the possibilities the night might bring. Garrett selected a cookie and sniffed it. “I haven’t had a real ginger snap since my grandmother passed. Did you make ’em?” “Nope. Murf did. He complained about it, too.” Oliver looked 29

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

over his shoulder to see if his cook watched. Garrett peered around him. “What?” Oliver tipped his head toward the kitchen. “Can’t let him hear me telling you he actually did something I asked him to do. He likes to believe he’s the boss, you understand.” Mischief lit the younger man’s eyes from within. “Gotcha.” Garrett took a bite, chewed and swallowed. “So we’ve covered cookies. What should we talk about now?” “Let’s start with your last name. Mine’s Sanderson. Oliver Sanderson.” Garrett held out his hand in the time-honored tradition of men everywhere. “Mine’s Webb.” Oliver noted the young man’s cool fingers. Nerves? Maybe. “So. You hungry, Garrett Webb?” Oliver motioned toward an empty booth. “I need a little something before I go home for the night.” Garrett slid off the barstool. “Food would be good, but only if you let me pay for my meal tonight.” “Friends don’t pay. Get used to it.” Oliver strolled out from behind the counter and ushered Garrett into the booth. The young man’s warm, spicy cologne, rich with nutmeg and ginger, teased his senses. He moved closer, his lips close to Garrett’s ear. “Nice cologne. Smells better on you than it does on me.” Garrett turned his head. His blue gaze locked with Oliver’s. “Are you coming on to me?” “Yep. Is that a problem?” “Nope.” Garrett eased into the booth and pointed at the other seat. “You sit over there and cool off.” Oliver grabbed two placemats and flatware off the shelf at end of the counter. “Check out the menu if you like, but I recommend 30

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

the shrimp basket and fries.” “Okay. And a soda, please.” Garrett positioned the place mats. Oliver pulled two colas from the old-fashioned bar gun. “Murf, two shrimp baskets, hold the comments.” The cook rolled his eyes at Garrett and pointed at Oliver. “Watch him. He’s a sly one.” Garrett nodded as Oliver set a glass in front of him. “I’ll do that. Thanks.” “You should listen to him, you know.” Oliver settled in the booth and stared across the table. “You gonna tell me why you’re really here?” “I told you. Food and conversation.” The young man didn’t bat an eye. Oliver had a good sense about men, and it said Garrett was interested in a lot more than talk. He saw no point in calling the fellow on it, not yet. It could be Garrett didn’t consciously realize what he wanted. Life handed you moments like that, and Oliver had had his fair share of them. But if the lad wanted talk, he’d be glad to get the ball rolling. “All right, then. I’ll be nosey and start our chat. So why are you working two jobs? A young fellow like you should be out clubbing every night.” “My five-point plan suffered a setback. I’m working to recoup some losses.” “Boyfriend?” Garrett sighed. “Not any longer.” And, no doubt, the ex-boyfriend was reason the five-point plan had been derailed. It usually was. Oliver could say he’d been there and done that, too, but he’d wait to see if Garrett asked first. He didn’t, so Oliver tried another topic. “Nice jeans.” 31

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

“Thanks. I got a great deal on them. Twenty bucks at a yard sale.” Yard sale? No wonder Garrett dressed like a prince. Oliver could, too, if he had the patience to treasure hunt, because that’s what a yard sale really was. “Good looking, hard working and frugal. You don’t find that combination every day.” Garrett sipped his cola, his blue gaze fastened on Oliver’s. “That’s me. Do you like the back pockets of my pants?” “Ah, a flaw. Vanity.” Oliver leaned back, unable to refrain from grinning at Garrett. “I noticed. I’ll say it since your ego appears to need it.” He leaned forward and kept his voice down. “Nice ass.” A low, husky chuckle was the only reply Garrett made, and Oliver knew he’d worn those jeans just for that reason. He didn’t mind a bit. God, the kid had the bluest eyes he’d ever seen. He was about to comment when Murf set their shrimp baskets on the counter, along with bottles of cocktail sauce and ketchup. Oliver transferred everything to the booth and urged Garrett to go ahead and eat as he moved to refill their glasses. “Don’t wait for me. Dig in.” “Hey, it’s got to cool off. I don’t want to burn my tongue.” Oliver straightened. He needed to end the word games before things got out of hand. Or into his hand. Flirting was one thing, but he could lose his head tonight if he wasn’t careful. Garrett was too tempting a morsel for his own good. On the other hand… “Don’t want to burn your tongue. Huh. I guess men like us do need to be careful.” Oliver dipped a shrimp into the cocktail sauce 32

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

and popped it in his mouth. Murf had let the shrimp cool just enough to be hot and tasty, but not burn. Garrett echoed his actions. “Wow, this is really good, and you know the tongue is a very important muscle.” “We put a little something extra in the breading.” Oliver ran his tongue over his upper lip in a lazy swipe. His companion grinned. “It pays off, big time.” Garrett munched another shrimp under Oliver’s amused gaze, then dipped a French fry in the ketchup and waved it at him. “So, Oliver, what’s a guy like you doing way out here in the middle of nowhere running a diner?” It was the question that always came, sooner or later, and Oliver had a few standard answers. Only this time, none of them felt appropriate. He didn’t want this young man to see the film of tarnish spread across his life. “A man has to make a living. This is mine.” Garrett nodded. “True. Is it your dream?” Oliver’s left eyebrow shot up. The kid wanted to talk about dreams? A familiar sadness settled over him, even as an unexpected hope crept under his ribs and settled into an unwelcome ache near his heart. The need to give daylight to the truth spilled over, and the words left him to hang in the air between him and Garrett. “No. I drank my dreams away years ago.”

33

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

CHAPTER 5 He’d come for friendly, light conversation and it seemed things had taken a serious turn. A sixth sense said responding with some inane platitude wouldn’t cut the mustard. Nor could he give Oliver’s words any sort of brush off. Garrett took a deep breath and carefully weighed his next words. “You don’t cringe talking about your past?” Oliver glanced out the plate glass window as another customer arrived, then turned back to him. “I don’t know. I hope you’ll give me a moment to sit here and get over my surprise at blurting that out to you.” “Okay, I’m curious, but we can move the conversation on to something else if you’d prefer.” “Did your mother teach you manners like that?” 34

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

“You bet your very firm butt she did. You can’t see it, but she’s got this little elf that sits on my shoulder and reports everything I do to her.” Oliver snorted. “What do you do with this elf when you hit the sheets?” “It’s problematic because it has definite voyeuristic tendencies.” It was true. Garrett’s mother was interested in every facet of his life, including his love life. Every time she learned of a new boyfriend, he got the safe sex lecture. When the relationship with Shaun got serious, she’d asked, point blank, what he liked in bed. She didn’t bat an eye when he replied, “Everything.” He shook his head, aware Oliver remained tense. “It’s weird, my mom knowing about gay sex.” “Be grateful she accepts you, Garrett. Not every gay man is given that gift.” Garrett winced inside at what his words implied. What would his life be like if his parents didn’t accept him? “Are you out to your parents?” He looked sad. “I was. They’re both gone. So is my uncle. This was his place. He left it to me.” Oliver ate the last shrimp in his basket. “Tell me about your day job.” Garrett appreciated the ebb and flow of the conversation. The shared human experience applied colors to the background of their lives. The details would be added as they got to know each other. Garrett planned to stop in at the diner through the week. There was plenty of time to satisfy the other’s curiosity. He jumped as Murf leaned in to remove the remnants of their dinner and plunk down two coffee mugs, then murmured his thanks. “I work with computers. I’m a tech with the Town of 35

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

Owensville, local government.” Oliver fixed him with a stern blue gaze. “That your dream?” What could the man possibly have against computers? Garrett refused to flinch and stared back. “Yeah, pretty much. I have twelve years in. When I have a full twenty, I’m going to start my own geek squad.” Oliver’s look softened. “Good for you, Garrett. I think you’ll do it.” “Why’s that? Because I’m good-looking, hard working and frugal?” “That, too, but mostly because you have a plan.” Garrett smiled at him. “Thanks. Believe it or not, I appreciate your vote of confidence.” He crumpled his napkin and laid it on the table. “I should go. Get a good night’s sleep in case I get called to drive tomorrow.” “I’ll walk you to your car.” Oliver slid out of the booth and leaned over the counter. “Hey, Murf, I’m stepping outside.” He slipped his arm around Garrett’s waist and rested it on the small of his back. Garrett shivered at Oliver’s warm touch. The action was so relaxed and easy, he’d not seen it coming, but the contact instantly felt normal, and he regretted the loss of it as Oliver opened the door for him. Garrett’s pulse quickened as they approached his car. Dare he risk a goodnight kiss? He dug his keys out of his pocket and pushed the button. The headlights flashed. Instead of opening the driver’s door, Oliver leaned against it. In slow motion, his hands lifted and reached for Garrett. “Stop in again sometime, Garrett.” Garrett took a step to close the distance between them. He slipped his arms around Oliver’s neck and pressed tightly to him, 36

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

thigh-to-thigh. “I’ll do that.” Heat flashed through him as he slanted his mouth across Oliver’s. His body responded forcefully. His groin tightened as his cock swelled. Part of his brain registered the man’s soft lips and wiry moustache, and the lingering taste of coffee. All higher function faded as Oliver kissed him back, his mouth moving gently under his. All too soon, Oliver pulled back. He ran his thumb over Garrett’s lower lip. Garrett flexed his hips forward, testing. Enticing. Oliver shook his head. “Just because I’m hard and you’re hard doesn’t mean we’re going to go get stupid.” Oliver was right, but stupid appealed to him at the present moment. “How about getting naked?” The older man sighed. “That would be the ‘stupid’ to which I refer.” Garrett had missed touch and the feeling of having someone to lean on. He relaxed against Oliver and rested his forehead on the man’s shoulder. Oliver’s arms tightened around him. “Kiddo, you’re pushing yourself too hard. Slow down before you make a serious mistake some night on the road and you get hurt, or you hurt someone else.” The wisdom of his words wasn’t lost on Garrett, but he couldn’t stop driving, not with debts to pay. He breathed in Oliver’s warm, spicy scent. Damn. The man did use the same cologne as he did. “I guess I gotta go, huh, Oliver?” A gentle hand stroked his hair. “Yeah, you do. ‘Stupid’ is gaining on me.” Garrett reluctantly pulled out of his arms. Oliver looked at the front of his jeans and nodded once in acknowledgment. He looked 37

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

down at Oliver’s bulging zipper and grinned. “You know, I’m not sure if I should be upset or flattered. It’s pretty obvious we’re both horny, but you’re sending me on my way, trying to look out for me.” “When you get a little older, you learn to not rush the finer things in life.” Oliver levered his solid frame off the car door, then opened it. Garrett resisted the urge to reach for him again. Another kiss would be grand, but he wasn’t sure Oliver felt the same way. Maybe the man was serious about not rushing into anything, or maybe it was a polite brush off. Oliver had said it himself. He was older, and perhaps that little jolt of lightning that arced between them wasn’t enough for him. Well, that was silly. Oliver had to have felt it, too. The man was hard for him, so why send him on his way with just one brief kiss? Garrett dropped into the driver’s seat and smiled up at him. “See ya around.” “Only if you stop in.” Oliver closed the car door and stepped back. Garrett glanced in the rearview mirror as he pulled out of the parking lot. Oliver hadn’t moved. Lord, he wanted to turn around and go back! What would Oliver do if he did? “Get a grip, Webb,” he ordered himself. That was bad. He only talked aloud to himself when he didn’t want to do what he knew he should. Like go home, even though that was where he needed to be. He’d satisfied some of his curiosity about Oliver; now he needed to think. The man was interesting to talk to and obviously attracted to him—but how far? Maybe all a man that age wanted was a young stud service, and Garrett wasn’t into that. On the other hand, he 38

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

wasn’t much into the idea of a relationship, either. Garrett sensed a deep-seated reticence in Oliver. What was that all about? Just how the hell did a guy relate to someone obviously a lot older? Garrett had always been the older man in any serious pairing, although never by more than a year or two. Oliver had to be in his forties. “He’s one fucking hot guy, Webb. You shouldn’t worry about his age.” Damn. He was talking to himself again. But at least he spoke the truth. *

*

*

Oliver locked the back door and paused to listen to the surrounding quiet. He liked this house, ghost and all. Sometimes he thought he felt Uncle Ollie looking over his shoulder. Real or imagined, he didn’t mind the familiar company, but tonight Oliver was alone, except for his regrets. Which was the bigger mistake—putting his hands on Garrett or allowing him to drive away? The latter, to be sure. If he’d played his cards better, he and Garrett could have been snuggled down between the sheets right now, but no. He’d had to give in to a logical moment and choose to take his time and get to know the young man before he fucked him. Since when? Since there was something different about this one. Oliver dumped the dregs of the tea he’d brought from the diner and headed for his bedroom. The king-sized bed would feel empty again tonight, but he’d manage. He’d made it through last night when all Sammy needed was to talk, hadn’t he? He always did. 39

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

The soft coolness of the sheets soothed his skin as he stretched out on the bed. God, it felt good to be still, to clear his mind of everything for a few minutes and concentrate on relaxing his muscles. He settled back on the pillows and closed his eyes. Garrett’s blue eyes greeted him in the darkness and sent a prickling wave of carnal longing through him. His cock filled, moving across his thigh as it hardened. Oliver shifted restlessly on the linens as the need for release took hold. His hand skimmed over his belly and down the inside of his thigh. He spread his legs and teased the sensitive flesh beneath his sac. Jerking off would provide simple and all-too-fleeting relief. He craved more than that. He rolled over and reached into the nightstand drawer for the lube. He wondered, briefly, if Garrett liked warming gel, but it hardly mattered. To each his own, and he liked a good smear of it. Oliver squeezed a generous glob into his palm, eased his fingers around his rigid shaft, and slowly stroked. The slick gel heated quickly, and he rubbed a portion over his balls. The effect wouldn’t last, but he’d enjoy it while it did. His hand moved purposefully, pumping slowly. This was something he never hurried. The familiar tightness settled in his groin, like a coiled spring. Oliver took a deep breath and blew it out as he relaxed his muscles as much as possible. A jolt of arousal slammed through him. The scent of his own musk was in the air. He slowed his hand and rode the sensation building at the base of his spine. Another wave hit him and he gave up resisting the images that waited to send him over the edge. In his mind, his fantasy lover took on Garrett’s face, those incredible blue eyes blurred with passion as Oliver took him. His imaginary lover cried out to him, wanting more, promising all. 40

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

Oliver tensed as the heat in his belly spiraled in on itself, down to one singular burning spot, and then flared hotly. The orgasm caught him, stealing his breath as it lifted him. He hung there in the airless dark, willing it to go on as his semen spilled onto his skin. His hand stilled. Oliver dropped back into himself, spent and wet, the sheet beneath him damp with sweat. He lay panting, too limp to move. He’d go rinse off the equipment in a few minutes, once he’d cooled down. The orgasm had helped. He always slept better after he took nature’s sleeping pill, but it didn’t alter the fact he’d sleep alone tonight. Maybe next Saturday night would be different. If Garrett did stop by the diner again, he’d ask the young man, straight out, how he’d like to have a sleepover. They could get to know each other a lot better and take it from there. The image of Garrett that lurked in the darkness with him grinned. Oliver opened his eyes and stared at the moonlit ceiling. He was about to go all stupid over Garrett; he just knew it.

41

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

CHAPTER 6 Garrett had a list of small chores to do around his place before he visited his parents. He usually enjoyed these once a month Sunday gatherings, but today, his focus was on Oliver and not family. With any luck, his mother wouldn’t notice he was preoccupied. If she did, the questions would start. Who was he seeing? What was the guy like? Were they having sex yet? Were they having safe sex? When was Garrett going to bring the fellow around to meet everyone? By the time his mother was finished with him, he’d be too exhausted to boink anyone. He had until noon to call the trucking company and find out if he was on the schedule to drive. That would tell him how much time he had available to spend on personal pursuits. Part of him wished he wouldn’t be on the schedule for tonight, but whether he 42

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

was or he wasn’t, he planned to make his way to the diner. Maybe Oliver would be there and they could have another “conversation.” And if the man wasn’t there, maybe the night cook would tell him when he would be. As it turned out, he was due to make the run to Mount Franklin, but the fellow slotted to drive on Monday had a request in to switch with anyone willing. Garrett told the dispatcher he’d make the switch and take the Monday run. With that settled, he hopped in his car and drove across town to his parents. His older brother, Boyd, was already there, sitting at the kitchen table peeling potatoes. “Hi, Mom, Boyd.” Garrett kissed his mother’s cheek. “I brought a load of jeans to wash.” Boyd made a rude noise. “Oh, of course you did. You always do.” Garrett turned on him. “Hey, it makes Mom feel like I still need to come home for something. And at least I wash and dry my stuff myself. Mom doesn’t have the touch it.” It was the wrong thing to say and Garrett knew it, but it bothered him the way his brother took advantage of their mom, Maddie. “Boys. Enough.” Maddie’s word was law, and both boys murmured, “Yes, ma’am.” His mother followed him into the laundry room. “Don’t snipe at Boyd today. Mary Jo took the kids and moved out.” Who hadn’t seen that coming, but Garrett didn’t comment. “Okay. I’m on my best behavior. I won’t tell him he was an asshole to cheat on her.” “Thank you.” Maddie smacked his butt. “He’s well aware he’s an ass. Speaking of exes, I saw Shaun this week.” 43

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

Garrett loaded his jeans in the washer, added detergent, and slammed the lid. “Lucky you. So did I.” “I know. He was looking for you, too. He gave me a check.” Garrett stared in dismay at his petite mother. “Don’t tell me he owes you money, too.” His mother nodded. “There’s no reason to be upset. It was only two hundred dollars. I accepted I’d never see it again when I gave it to him, so this was a pleasant surprise.” “Surprise is right. He gave me a check for two grand, and it was good.” Maddie laid her hand on Garrett’s arm. “I hope you won’t do anything foolish like take him back.” Garrett shook his head and tried to keep his voice neutral. “No. I’ve moved on.” “You have a new beau?” The easy tone of her voice didn’t hide the sharp interest in her eyes. “Don’t start that again, Mom. I’m not seeing anyone, okay?” “It’s not nice to lie to your mother.” Maddie smacked his butt a second time and went back into the kitchen. Garrett busied himself straightening up the shelf where the laundry supplies were kept. His mother was on a fishing expedition, and he knew better than let her set the hook. As for his brother, Garrett had a hard time feeling sorry for him. Straight guys who married and had kids had a different set of rules to follow. He’d cheated on his wife and would now have to live with his decisions. What did bother him was that Shaun had asked his family for money. He hadn’t known about it until now. Part of him wanted to ask his mother why she hadn’t come to him so he could repay the money. What was two hundred dollars in the overall scheme of things? Maybe that’s why Maddie hadn’t 44

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

mentioned it. She’d liked Shaun well enough, at least in the beginning, and it had been her decision. She didn’t owe Garrett any explanation, no matter how hard he pressed for one. Better to keep the peace and let it go since his father was home. There was no way to know if Boyd, Sr. knew about it. Garrett found his dad in his usual spot—in the family room in front of the television with sports playing. He flopped down on the sofa beside him. “Hey, Dad, who’s winning?” “Not the home team.” He picked up the remote and turned off the television. “What’s new in your world? Don’t upset your old man the way your brother did.” “My world is peachy. Work is good. I’m still single and loving it. I had to get the air conditioning in my car fixed for the second time. I guess if it stops working again, I’ll have to bite the bullet and get a new car.” Whether or not my budget can stand the extra strain. His dad nodded. “That would be a good move, son. You’ve gotten your money’s worth out of that old wreck, so it’s time to stop throwing money away on it.” The older man shifted in his chair. “Listen, Garrett. I don’t want to rag on your ass, but that boy who lived with you was here.” Shit. His father knowing Shaun had been around wasn’t good news. “I’m sorry. I’ll call him and tell them not to bother you and Mom.” “He bothered your mother, not me. Tell me the truth son. He’s not suicidal or anything, is he? Your mother has a soft heart. She even likes your brother. I’d hate to see her upset.” Garrett’s heart pounded, deafening him for one surreal moment. What could Shaun have said? He would find out. As for 45

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

Shaun killing himself, Garrett didn’t believe he’d commit such an act, but how well did he really know him after all this time? “I don’t think so, Dad. Just what did he say?” “You’ll have to ask your mom. She was real quiet after he left.” “Fuck.” No way could he ask Maddie what was said. She’d tell him it was between her and Shaun, and that would be the end of the conversation. “That’s what I said, but not out loud to her, of course.” His dad turned the television back on. “Just thought you should know.” “Thanks. I think.” Garrett stood and squeezed his father’s shoulder. “I’ll call you when dinner’s ready.” Well, this put a kink in his day. Did he go find Shaun, or did he go see Oliver? He wanted to see Oliver, and no way would he allow his ex to ruin his plans. He slipped out the back door to use his cell phone. If Shaun owed his mother any additional money, she’d have it— today. *

*

*

Garrett was unable to reach Shaun, which didn’t surprise him. He focused on getting through dinner without his family knowing he had anything on his mind. With Boyd on the hot seat for a change, it was easy. He helped his mother clean up, folded his dry jeans, and said his goodbyes. In his car, he inserted his earpiece and tried to connect to Shaun again. Damn it! He didn’t want to deal with this bullshit. He wanted to go see Oliver! This time, when Shaun’s voicemail connected, Garrett spoke. “Listen to me, Shaun. If you owe my mother any more money, 46

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

you’d better get it to her by Friday. No fucking excuses! I can’t believe you went to her, you little piece of shit!” Garrett ripped off the earpiece and flung it into the backseat. His cell phone followed. It wasn’t his habit to take the Lord’s name in vain, but this sure felt like the time do it. He was glad he didn’t curse a few moments later as his temper leveled out. Asking forgiveness after having a tantrum was so childish. He couldn’t give Shaun the benefit of any doubts when so many lies stood between them. And to go to his parent’s house? “Okay, Webb, cool down before you stroke out. You’re not doing yourself any favors. Think about what you’re doing to your perfect blood pressure.” Talking aloud might actually help this time since he’d come up with good advice. Garrett parked his car in front of his apartment building and glared at the blond-haired man standing beside the front door. What the fuck was Shaun doing here? He retrieved his electronics, then lifted the clothesbasket from the trunk and strode purposefully up the walk. “Now you’re going to be my stalker? What gives, Shaun?” Shaun opened the front door to the lobby. Garrett set the clothesbasket down on the concrete. “You are not going inside my home.” “I got your message, GT. Would you have preferred I not reimburse your mother?” Garrett glared at him. So Shaun had received his message and driven straight to his apartment building? Or had he been waiting here? His ex knew the first Sunday of every month was the family dinner, and he knew about what time Garrett would arrive home. The bastard. “I meant what I said, Shaun. You see to it my mother gets 47

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

every cent owed her this fucking week. You can leave now. I don’t want you in my airspace.” Shaun touched his hand. “I don’t want us to be enemies, Garrett. Can’t we be friends?” Garrett didn’t need to give it any thought. “No. We can’t. I’ll take your money, though, and more honestly than you took mine. Mail it. Now go and don’t come back.” “You were never cruel before, Garrett. What happened?” “You happened, Shaun. You.” He picked up the basket and stepped inside. Garrett spoke over his shoulder. “Don’t come back. And quit stalking me. Move on. I have.” Garrett closed the door between them and slammed the deadbolt home. All the tenants had keys. They might wonder why the entrance was locked in the middle of the day, but that was all. The last thing he wanted was for Shaun to follow him upstairs to his apartment. By the time he’d reached the second floor, Garrett was shaking with anger. He couldn’t go see Oliver until he calmed down. The best course of action was to put away his laundry and relax for an hour. That would put him in a better frame of mind. He wanted to be mellow when he walked into the diner. His mini time-out worked. Garrett changed into a pair of good blue jeans and a classic white T-shirt, and headed for Mount Franklin. Traffic was light and it didn’t take him long to arrive at The Downshift Diner. In the daylight, he noticed a path leading to a house approximately a hundred and fifty feet behind the diner. He couldn’t get a good look at it because of the mature maple trees along the walkway, but it had to be Oliver’s place. The diner wasn’t crowded, and Garrett took the seat at the end of the counter. The waitress spotted him and sauntered over, 48

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

flashing him a warm smile as she pulled her order pad from her pocket. “What can I get for you, sweetie?” Why did women constantly come on to him? It didn’t make any sense. He returned her smile and hoped she didn’t view it as encouragement. “Actually, I was looking for Oliver.” Her friendly gaze turned curious as she leaned her hip against the counter. “Oliver isn’t working today. Can I help you with something?” Garrett shook his head. “It’s personal.” She nodded. “Okay. What’s your name?” “Garrett.” Maybe he imagined it, but he thought she recognized his name. “Wait here, and I’ll call the house to see if he’s home.” “Thanks.” Suddenly nervous, Garrett turned and watched the cars going by. What did he really hope for in coming here? Why did he have to pretend anything other than he hoped Oliver would suggest they get better acquainted and use a bed to do it? It seemed like an eternity until Oliver walked through the back door. His fiery gaze slammed into Garrett’s, full of naked desire, then the look was gone—almost. If anyone in the diner looked at him, they would simply see the proprietor looking at a customer. He slid off the barstool and faced Oliver. Oliver’s chin lifted. Understanding arced between them, maleto-male. There was no point denying the truth to himself. This is what he’d come for. Garrett nodded. 49

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

CHAPTER 7 Garrett stood rooted to the spot as Oliver approached him. The man’s smooth, hips-first swagger sent goose bumps skittering across his buttocks. His cock swelled, relentless in its effort to embarrass him in front of twenty diners. He didn’t care. Let ’em all stare as long as Oliver took notice, too. He did. His smoky gaze flicked down, then up to Garrett’s, then back down. Oliver grinned and stopped in front of him. “Happy to see me?” Garrett glanced down. “As happy as you appear to be. Can a guy get a soda to go in this joint?” Oliver shook his head. “I’ve better at the house. Let me tell Shirl and Billy not to call me unless it’s an emergency.” He 50

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

disappeared into the kitchen and sauntered back out in less than thirty seconds. Oliver motioned at the front entrance. “Let’s go.” Garrett turned and held the door open for Oliver. “What constitutes an emergency?” “Someone is bleeding, choking, or keels over all the way to the floor.” He placed his hand on the small of Garrett’s back and guided him around the corner of the building. Garrett leaned closer to the warmth of Oliver’s body. “Not fire?” “That’s what the firemen are for. Call ’em. Besides, I like firemen. Don’t you?” “Sure. Big, burly men turn me on.” Garrett stroked Oliver’s well-formed bicep. Oliver laughed softly and backed Garrett against the rear wall of the diner, out of sight of the clientele and staff. “To each his own.” Garrett grasped Oliver’s hips and yanked him against him. He held him there and soaked up the heat from Oliver’s body. The corner of his mouth quirked in a small smile. “So, am I going to have to beg you to kiss me again?” Oliver ran his thumb over Garrett’s lower lip. He swallowed, the muscles in his throat moving. “Garrett, be sure you want this. Don’t lead me on, then tell me to stop.” “I came for this, Oliver.” Something dark and unsettled sparked in Oliver’s eyes. “Don’t get too attached to me, either, boy.” “I’m horny. I want to fuck you, not marry you.” Oliver leaned in, his breath warm on Garrett’s moist lips. In the back of his mind, Garrett registered surprise at Oliver’s reticence, but he’d ponder it later. He shifted forward and touched his lips to 51

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

Oliver’s. Need burst through him, a siren song in his blood that built as Oliver’s tongue licked into his in a bold stroke. The larger man pressed his body to the sun-warmed bricks, pinning him, his pelvis grinding against Garrett’s in a mock taking. Garrett thrust his tongue into the heat of Oliver’s mouth. Back and forth they tested, well matched, as the world spun behind his closed eyes. Suddenly breathless, Garrett tore his lips from Oliver’s. Oliver rested his forehead to his, breathing hard. “You should go home, Garrett.” “I don’t think so. Why are you afraid of me?” He ran his fingers through Oliver’s short hair. Oliver brushed a kiss to his lips. “I’m too old for someone in his twenties, Garrett.” “I’m going to surprise you. I’m thirty-two.” He laughed as the man’s eyebrows shot up. “Told you I was older than I look.” Oliver’s eyes darkened. “I can’t tell you how relieved I am, but I still feel like a dirty old pervert chasing chickens.” He levered off the wall, grabbed Garrett’s hand, and pulled him along the flagstone path to the bungalow-style house. Garrett fell into step beside him and slipped their linked hands behind Oliver’s back. There was one sure way he knew to find out Oliver’s age—give him a little dig. “You can’t be that old. What are you? Fifty?” “Fifty! No, smart-ass, I’m forty-four. Happy to know that?” Oliver eased his hand free as they climbed the steps to the wide veranda. He pulled keys out of his pocket and unlocked the front door. “I should spank you for that.” Garrett stepped into the foyer and patted his butt. “A spanking might be fun sometime, but not tonight.” He tucked his fingers 52

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

beneath Oliver’s waistband and tugged. “Where’s the bedroom?” Oliver pointed at the wide mahogany staircase to their right. He pulled Garrett into his arms and kissed him. Garrett wanted to melt into him, to stay in the aura of heat that surrounded the man, but he didn’t protest when Oliver ended the kiss. “What do you want to drink? Tea? Soda? Water? We’ll take it upstairs.” “No beer?” “I don’t drink, so I don’t keep anything here.” Garrett looked closely at him, noting the careful expression on his rugged face. Not drinking didn’t equate to not wanting a drink. He’d remember that in the future. Besides, he didn’t need to drink, either. “In that case, I’ll have whatever you’re having.” Oliver motioned for him to follow him into the kitchen. He pointed at a door. “Pantry. Grab a six-pack of soda from in there.” Garrett did as instructed. Oliver pulled the last two cold cans from the fridge and poured them over ice, then put the warm ones in to chill. Garrett accepted a glass, his fingertips brushing Oliver’s. He murmured his thanks, then spoke. “Are you done trying to slow me down, old man?” “Ah, youth. Always in a hurry.” Oliver began to climb the stairs. “Let’s go.” Garrett followed close behind, up four steps to pause on the broad landing to look through into the living room. “You know, I’ve never been in a house with a set of stairs leading to the second floor from both the living room and the kitchen.” “Old places like this have a lot of unexpected features.” He looked over his shoulder. “Just like us ‘old’ guys.” Garrett smacked Oliver’s rock-hard ass. “Keep climbing.” 53

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

Oliver snickered and took the last few steps two at a time, leaving Garrett to scramble to catch up. He followed Oliver into a spacious bedroom with angled ceilings and a set of triple windows that opened to the canopy of leaves from the maples out front. Full of light, yet private, the room had a retreat-like quality, but all he really cared about was the king-sized bed. Oliver turned and reached for him. Heart pounding, Garrett stepped into his embrace and put his lips to the throbbing pulse point at the base of Oliver’s neck. His dewy skin tasted of salt, and Garrett realized Oliver really was nervous. The hesitation he displayed wasn’t a game. He brushed his lips to Oliver’s ear. “I don’t bite.” Oliver held him tighter. “Not even my nipples?” “I do make exceptions, by request.” Garrett slipped his hand between their torsos and teased a hard nub on Oliver’s broad chest. Oliver responded by grabbing Garrett’s shirt and yanking it over his head. His hands went to the snap on Garrett’s pants. In a fluid movement, Oliver pushed Garrett’s jeans off his hips and shucked down his briefs as he went to his knees in front of him. The air cooled his overheated flesh. His skin flashed hot as Oliver’s tongue licked the length of his rigid shaft. He grabbed the man’s shoulders for balance, moaning as the heat of Oliver’s mouth engulfed his swollen dick. The room spun in a single dizzying moment as Oliver’s hands caressed the back of his thighs. His fingertips grazed the dark crevice between his buttocks. Jolt after jolt of arousal coursed through Garrett, barely giving him the chance to draw a deep breath. He fisted his fingers in Oliver’s hair. 54

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

“Stop before I fall over.” Oliver looked up at him. Garrett fell into his smoky gaze as Oliver’s mouth began to relinquish his cock with tortuous slowness. He sucked in a lungful of air and steadied himself as his rod reappeared inch by inch from within Oliver’s rosy lips. Strong hands massaged his ass, then Oliver stood. “You’d better finish undressing yourself.” Garrett agreed as he reached for the hem of Oliver’s shirt and pulled it over his head. “It’s time for you to start.” Startled, he paused, then ran his fingertips along the long scar down the center of Oliver’s torso that disappeared beneath his belt. Oliver unsnapped his jeans. “A souvenir of my misspent youth.” He turned and displayed his back. Garrett traced the series of smooth, silvery lines that ran diagonally from his left shoulder to his right hip. “What did that?” “I took a long slide across the blacktop. Didn’t feel a thing until I woke up in the hospital.” Garrett kissed his shoulder. “I bet it hurt then.” He dipped his hands under Oliver’s cotton hip-huggers and pushed them off his hips. “Get naked.” Shoes, socks and jeans were tossed into a communal heap. Garrett crawled to the far side of the bed and flipped the spread and top sheet down to the footboard, then knelt on a lawn of cool, crisp, pale blue cotton. Oliver stood, knees against the side of the mattress, and stroked his stiff cock, his ruttish gaze locked on Garrett’s jutting prick. “Lie down, Garrett. On the pillows. Spread your legs a little.” He did as requested, reaching down to settle his balls comfortably. Garrett grasped his dick with his middle finger and 55

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

thumb and stroked in tandem with Oliver. “Like what you see?” Garrett certainly liked what he saw. Oliver was a mature man, his frame filled out with muscle. From his pelted chest and thighs to his lean hips to the flat brown discs of his nipples, he was clearly a male at the peak of his physical strength. And lifting from a nest of dark hair, the uncut, fully erect penis. Thick, rosy red with one prominent vein, Garrett judged it to be eight-and-a-half inches of gorgeous tool. Oliver nodded and spoke, his deep voice soft. “You’re beautiful, Garrett.” “You’re pretty damn gorgeous, yourself. Nice cock. I’m jealous.” He was, too, not because he didn’t quite measure up because he came close enough. But he was cut, a fact that annoyed him greatly, and Oliver hadn’t gotten the knife. It didn’t matter. What did was having Oliver’s mouth on him again. He held his hand out to him. “Come down here.” A smile teased Oliver’s lips. “I need five seconds more just to look at you.” Before Garrett could protest the man had ogled him long enough, he put one knee on the bed and stretched out beside him. Garrett rolled to face him, into his arms, his face buried against Oliver’s neck. He kissed his way along the man’s bristly jaw line and suddenly realized he didn’t have one very important fact. “Oliver?” “Hmm?” “What’s your status?” Oliver turned and kissed him, slipping his tongue into Garrett’s mouth. Garrett responded in kind, then lifted his chin so Oliver could kiss his neck. Between kisses, Oliver spoke. “Now…is…a…fine…time…to ask.” He propped up on his 56

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

elbow and stroked Garrett’s cheeks. “I’m HIV negative. No other gremlins having fun at my expense, either.” Garrett hoped his relief didn’t show on his face. “Same here. All negative. Sorry I didn’t bring it up sooner.” “Me, too. I should’ve mentioned it to put your mind at ease.” Garrett slipped his hand between their bodies and wrapped his fingers around Oliver’s stiff rod to roll the velvety skin over the hard inner core. His balls tingled as he encountered a silky drop of pre-cum. He spread it over the glans and breathed in the tantalizing musk of Oliver’s arousal. The need to taste Oliver claimed him and he eased out of Oliver’s embrace and licked his way down the man’s chest. Oliver guided his mouth to his nipple, moaning softly as Garrett suckled the little pebble. Oliver rolled onto his back as Garrett tongued his belly button. The scent of warm flesh drew him on and he buried his nose in Oliver’s bush and inhaled. Oliver’s hips flexed upward as he slipped his fingers into Garrett’s hair and issued a breathless request. Garrett rolled back Oliver’s foreskin, wet his lips, and went down over the tip of his cock. The enticing salty tang of male exploded across his tongue and he took Oliver’s cock as deep as he dared. The man moaned as he got serious. He swirled his tongue around the rim, stroking the flat mushroom with bold licks, intent on sending Oliver flying. Little sighs of encouragement poured from Oliver’s lips when Garrett worked his hand beneath his sac and teased the hidden orifice there. Garrett protested when his lover suddenly pulled him up to the pillows with him. Oliver’s eyes gleamed as he grinned wolfishly. “You first.” Protesting was the farthest thing from his mind. Garrett 57

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

sprawled across Oliver and found his lips. Oliver’s tongue licked into his, a soft, velvety swipe that made little stars dance in his vision. His balls tingled and tightened. The heavy, aching fullness in his groin begged for relief. He murmured a plea against Oliver’s lips, then lay breathless as Oliver cupped his sac and gently fondled his balls. Garrett repeated his request. “Suck me.” Oliver licked his nipple. “Patience, patience. Good things come to those who wait.” Garrett wiggled around and headed south. First, last—together. He wanted Oliver’s dick back in his mouth. He needed to hear the sounds Oliver made as he came and to know he’d driven him over the edge. They jockeyed for position, finally settling into a jumble of arms wound around thighs and knees spread in all directions. Up he went, lick by wonderful lick. Garrett breathed in Oliver’s heady male scent, even as Oliver’s warm lips encircling his cock stole his breath. The heat in his belly expanded. Oliver had said he was first. Garrett gave up Oliver’s prick and let his awareness spiral down into the burgeoning pleasure at the base of his spine. He cried out Oliver’s name, a split second’s warning as the orgasm seized him and dropped him into starlit bliss. Suspended, he hung there, anchored only by Oliver’s mouth and hands, then without warning crossed back into himself, starved for oxygen and panting, but alive. Garrett lifted his head from Oliver’s muscled thigh. “Do you…” He stopped to breathe and finally asked his question. “Got a condom?”

58

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

CHAPTER 8 Oliver gave Garrett a final lick and pulled his arm out from beneath the younger man’s legs. Above flushed cheeks, those intense blue eyes watched him without blinking. He’d not taken Garrett for a bottom. “I have a drawer full of ’em. You sure about this?” “Oh, yeah.” Garrett wiggled free of their embrace and crawled across the bed. Oliver took a moment to feast his eyes on the white globes of his firm buttocks. “You have a great ass, young man.” He spread his hands on the body part under discussion, one on each side, and squeezed. “Just perfect. Stop squirming.” Oliver spanked Garrett’s right butt cheek. Garrett lifted his ass and shimmied his hips. “Don’t tease me 59

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

like that. I bet you’d love to see my hiney all rosy red with your handprints, but you can forget it.” Oliver chuckled as he straddled Garrett’s waist, reached to open the top nightstand drawer and grabbed a condom. “Another time, then. Like if you ever drive through fog the way it was the other night again.” “Yep. I’d deserve it in that case.” Garrett rose on his elbows, peered into the drawer, and lifted a foil packet. “Snuggers? You have Snuggers?” “It’s good to be prepared. Now put ’em down and grab the lube while I suit up.” Oliver leaned back and spanked him again. Garrett swatted at him, laughing. “Hurry up before I change my mind!” Oliver rolled the rubber down to the base of his erection. “You won’t change your mind. You’re hoping to get your rocks off a second time.” He scooted backward and massaged Garrett’s butt again, spreading his cheeks to reveal the puckered rosebud. Oliver bent down and ran the tip of his tongue over sensitive flesh. Garrett moaned, his muscles twitching. “Do that and you can bet I’ll come all over your sheets.” Garrett lifted his butt. Oliver squirted lube on his crack instead. “Next time.” With great care, he eased his middle finger through the tight ring of muscle. Garrett’s body grabbed at his invading digit. “Easy, Garrett. Relax, okay?” “I’m trying.” Pillows muffled his voice. Oliver slipped in a second finger and continued his massage. He smiled to himself as he noted the subtle movements of Garrett’s arm. Youth was a wonderful thing. He didn’t begrudge Garrett six 60

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

orgasms a night if the lad could achieve them. But as he matured, he’d learned the inconvenient wisdom of having to pace himself. Garrett’s body pushed against his fingers. It was the signal he’d waited for. Oliver withdrew his fingers and spread a bit of the lube over the latex. He pressed the tip of his cock to Garrett’s opening and eased forward. Inch by careful inch he took what Garrett gave until he was fully seated, bush to buttocks. He shook with the effort to remain still and allow Garrett all the time he needed for his body to adjust. Oliver ran his hands over Garrett’s back in an easy caress, free of demand. This he would never hurry. If he rushed, he cheated himself out of feeling Garrett’s hot channel quiver around his cock, of savoring his renewed arousal. Garrett shifted back to take his cock deeper. He flexed his hips, testing. Garrett groaned, a long, drawn-out sound of want and need. “Just fuck me, Oliver. Now!” Oliver pulled back and eased forward, once and again. Garrett loudly protested his caution. Oliver thrust into him, hard. The hot embers in his belly flared. He flipped into autopilot and fucked Garrett as the steady stream of encouragement poured out of the younger man and lifted him toward the top. Too fast. He had to slow down, had to stay with Garrett. The muscles in his abdomen clenched with the effort to stave off his release for just a few moments. Oliver’s thighs tensed. His balls throbbed. Every pounding beat of his heart sent a delicious torture screaming through his groin straight to the tip of his leaking cock. He went forward, bracing himself on Garrett’s back to reach around and fist Garrett’s cock, stroking in tandem with his driving hips. 61

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

Garrett made a sharp sound of relief and came in Oliver’s hand, the scent of his unique male musk imprinting on his brain. Oliver closed his eyes and reached for the climax he’d kept at bay. It coursed through him, gathering strength to suddenly burst free as he emptied himself. The sparkling haze of pleasure cleared. Knees shaking, Oliver held the base of the condom and slowly pulled out, eliciting a last groan from Garrett as the head slipped free. Garrett dropped face down on the sheet and didn’t move. Oliver squeezed his shoulder and took two staggering steps toward the bathroom before righting himself. He checked the rubber, tossed it, and faced the toilet. He glanced over his shoulder as a light touch startled him. “You are alive. I was going to get a mirror and hold it in front of your face to see if it steamed.” Garrett leaned against him. “I’d like a shower.” “I’ll wash your back.” He stepped aside for Garrett, then started the shower. It took a minute or two for the hot water to get to the second floor in the old house. He turned back around when Garrett flushed. Oliver wrapped his arms around Garrett as the younger man slipped his hands around his neck and rested his head on Oliver’s shoulder. “Are you okay, Garrett?” “Never better. Man, am I limp. What way to break a dry spell.” “Glad to be of assistance.” Steam wafted from the shower. He hated to say it and let go of Garrett, but he did. “Water’s hot.” Garrett sighed and squeezed him. “I can’t move.” He laughed softly. “I know what you mean. C’mon. Let’s get wet so we can go back to bed.” Garrett raised his head and blinked at him. “Holy shit! You don’t, like, you know…cuddle, do you?” 62

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

Oliver didn’t—or rather, he didn’t much—but he wanted to hold this young man all night. “Fuck no, I don’t ‘you know…cuddle’. Call someone else if you want nurtured.” “I don’t believe you.” Garrett slipped from his arms and stepped into the tub. Oliver followed and dragged the shower curtain closed. He lathered a washrag and motioned for Garrett to turn around. He washed Garrett’s back, running his fingertips over his smooth skin. Oliver finished his job and ran the washcloth over Garrett’s chest. He leaned closer and licked his earlobe. “Next time I fuck you, you’ll be on your back.” Garrett washed his chest as he glanced over his shoulder. “Don’t look for that to happen tonight.” “I’m not. I’m just saying.” Oliver allowed Garrett to spin him around for his turn for a back wash. “Say all you want. When I fuck you, you’ll be staring at the ceiling, too.” Garrett eased past him giving him the spot under the hot spray. “I’m getting out.” “Grab any towel off the shelf.” Oliver hastened to finish rinsing and closed the valves to stop the water. He didn’t want to give Garrett the opportunity to bolt. His worry was unfounded. Garrett lay sprawled on the far side of the bed, the covers pulled up to his waist. Oliver slipped between sheets that held the musk of their sex to lie on his side next to Garrett. He rested his palm on the younger man’s stomach. “Are you sure you’re all right? That wasn’t gentle.” “I didn’t want easy.” “Do you want to tell me about your ‘dry spell’?” Garrett looked at him in silence for long moments, then shook his head. “It’s a common story. Boyfriend takes all and leaves. I 63

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

haven’t… I guess I was burned badly enough to need a vacation from the whole sex scene.” He flipped onto his side to face Oliver and smiled. “I’m glad the break is over. Do you want to tell me about the ‘souvenir’ of your misspent youth?” Did he? Not many people knew his past. Maybe Garrett deserved to know. Something strong vibed between them, unexpected in its power and purity. Oliver feared it, even as his hesitant soul stretched toward it. It didn’t matter. Garrett was far too young for him. Hitting the sack every now and then was one thing. Getting serious was out of the question. Maybe his past would provide sufficient deterrent to Garrett believing this was more than sex. “I grew up in a different time, Garrett. The Stonewall riots took place just two years after I was born, and out and proud still hasn’t made it to Mount Franklin.” “You think Owensville is much different?” “I know it’s not. Anyway, I was confused and angry. Out of control. My dad died when I was sixteen. I fell in with the wrong crowd—two wrong crowds, actually.” “One confused and one angry?” Garrett laid his hand over his. “Both angry. I drank too much. I took too many drugs. Engaged in too much risky behavior. I’m not a religious man, but it had to be God or a cadre of angels who kept me HIV negative.” The corner of Garrett’s mouth twitched. “Real slut, were you?” Suddenly, it was so easy to admit the truth to Garrett. For the first time in his life, Oliver wasn’t ashamed to answer. “Try whore. Then some fine rich gentleman, well pleased with my company and the opportunities it gave him, gifted me with the most beautiful Harley Sportster. Hold on. I need a moment.” Oliver closed his eyes and sighed deeply. 64

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

Garrett made an amused sound. “Are you communing with a hunk of metal or the guy, Oliver?” He opened his eyes into Garrett’s calm, interested gaze. No hint of judgment lurked there. “The bike, to be sure, and a hunk of metal was all it was when I got through with it. I started one Friday night by fucking my brains out, ingesting copious quantities of old-fashioned American rye whiskey, and snorting I don’t even know how much cocaine. I didn’t stop until Monday morning. It didn’t turn out well.” Oliver stroked the back of Garrett’s calf as he rested his knee on Oliver’s hip. This was the hard part. He had no true or reliable memory of what happened next. What he knew came from the police and the family whose lives, but for a miracle, he could have ended. “Apparently, I hopped on the bike and headed to God only knows where. I passed out and hit an oncoming car.” He paused to give Garrett a chance to say something or ask a question, but he remained silent. Oliver continued. “The family in the car basically walked away. A couple of bruises. A busted lip. I have no words to tell you how grateful I am they weren’t hurt.” Garrett cupped his cheek. “I think I can imagine. But you were hurt?” “Oh, yeah. Punctured my left lung, bruised my left kidney so bad it still only works at fifty percent, cracked four vertebrae, cracked my pelvis. Spent a couple of weeks in a coma.” Garrett traced the length of the scar running down the center of Oliver’s stomach. “And this?” “While I was in the coma, my appendix ruptured. That almost killed me. It was a big cleanup in there.” He wrapped his fingers 65

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

around Garrett’s hand and lifted the younger man’s knuckles to his lips. “After about three months in the hospital, I spent three more months in rehab. When I got out, I had a five-year probation sentence and nowhere to go. My parents were both gone by then.” Oliver paused, suddenly overwhelmed by his memories of a stern, yet kind and loving man. He hoped his voice wouldn’t crack, but knew if it did, Garrett would understand. “My Uncle Oliver took me in and insisted I learn how to cook and run the diner.” “He must’ve been a good man.” “Yes, he was. And he forced me to take a look at the truth—I was angry at being “different.” That my parents were dead and I was alone. In those days, I didn’t understand how destructive anger can be, and how the drugs and booze fed the cycle. I’d be just another suicide statistic if he hadn’t been there for me.” He caressed Garrett’s side from the silky hair under his arm to his hip. His fingers found Garrett’s nipple, and the young man smiled at him as it puckered and drew into a hard pebble. “Are you still angry? “No. It was the lack of self-understanding that led to the alcohol and drugs and even more alcohol. I grew up. I learned how to live without them and became a better man. But gay? My life wasn’t in the shitter because men make my dick hard. You can’t run away from how you’re born or who you are. It simply doesn’t work.”

66

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

CHAPTER 9 Garrett rubbed the fur on Oliver’s belly. Oliver had the perfect amount of hair on his torso to be sexy. “I don’t have a lot of trauma I associate with figuring out I was gay.” He inched closer to Oliver’s body heat. “I remember overhearing bits and pieces of my parents whispering, being all worried, and not understanding what ‘to do with’ me. My older brother was a bit cruel. Still is at times.” “What did your parents say? Or don’t you remember now?” Oliver caressed the back of his thigh. God, he loved the way the man stroked his leg. Who’d have thought that would be such turn on? He ran his foot along Oliver’s calf, then rested his knee on his hip again. “Just things like wondering what they’d done wrong, or what 67

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

they could do to help me ‘grow out of it.’ I didn’t even know what ‘it’ was.” “When did you figure it out?” “I was about thirteen, I guess. In junior high. A new kid started the seventh grade, and I fell in love. That’s when the name-calling started. My parents took me to see the minister.” Oliver’s eyebrows lifted. “Did that help?” Garrett grinned at the disbelief on the older man’s face. “Pastor Bob was gay.” “I repeat—did that help?” “Yeah, it did. Of course, he counseled me on the joys of celibacy, but he also told me about safe sex.” Garrett glanced at his watch. Another hour and he needed to head home. Oliver ceased stroking his leg and draped his arm around his waist. “Are you in a hurry?” “Not really, but I get up at six o’clock to make it to my day job by seven-thirty.” Oliver pulled him against him, belly-to-belly, and squeezed his butt. “You’re welcome to sleep over, you know.” He thought about that for a moment. Staying where he was had a lot of appeal, not the least of which was maybe Oliver would be up for round two in a little while. But come the morning and he had to rush home, rush to get ready for work, and rush through traffic, he’d be stressed before the workweek began. “Thanks, but it would be better if I went home. I need to be in familiar surroundings to sleepwalk my way through getting ready for work.” Garrett couldn’t see Oliver’s eyes as the man looked down. Damn. He’d said the wrong thing. Now Oliver would think he didn’t want to see him again, and he did. Oliver spoke before he 68

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

had a chance to explain. “Garrett, sorry to be a nag, but you need to be careful working two jobs the way you do. Being on the road when you’re tired can be dangerous.” He kissed Oliver, a quick brushing of lips. He was relieved it was Oliver’s need to caution him about safety without pissing him off that made him look away. “And that’s another reason why I should sleep in my own bed.” Garrett slid his hand between their bodies and cupped the soft lump of Oliver’s genitals. There was immediate movement beneath his palm. “I’ve got a little time, though.” Oliver grinned. “Youth. If I tried to get off three times in a night…well, I know better than to try.” “We’ll build you up to it.” Garrett slanted his mouth across Oliver’s, coaxing him to open his lips. Oliver sucked his tongue into the heat of his mouth. Their tongues danced, back and forth, teasing each other. Garrett treated Oliver’s swelling cock to a few easy squeezes, then shifted his hand for better access. Oliver slid his fingers along his crack and touched his hole. Garrett levered his hips away from Oliver’s coaxing caress. “Um, Oliver, you can’t go there again tonight, big guy.” Oliver chuckled wickedly, grinning. “I didn’t plan to. I wanted to see what you’d say.” Garrett sputtered and flipped over, gaining his knees. He pushed Oliver’s shoulders down against the mattress and straddled the man’s hips. Oliver held his hands up in a defensive position. “Don’t do something you’ll regret!” Garrett pinched both of Oliver’s nipples. “I’m not scared of you.” 69

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

“You should be. I’ve got a good thirty pounds on you.” Oliver cackled gleefully. “I need to fatten you up, my pretty.” “I don’t think so.” Garrett eased down until his knees captured Oliver’s. “You be still and enjoy.” He leaned down and licked Oliver’s balls. Rolling the hard nuts inside, he carefully sucked one, then the other into his mouth. A breathy sigh rolled out of Oliver as Garrett repeated the caress. Against his cheek, Oliver’s dick, already at half-mast, swelled. Garrett left off fondling his sac and licked the tip of Oliver’s cock before going down over the head. He ran his tongue around the rim, then pulled Oliver’s foreskin back and did it again. He released him long enough to lick his stomach. “Soap!” Oliver laughed at him as he pumped his hips up and down. “Well! It proves I washed!” Garrett stretched forward and kissed him on the mouth. Oliver grabbed him, rolling them precariously near the edge of the mattress. Garrett wrapped his legs around Oliver’s waist. “You don’t listen. I told you to lie there and enjoy the blowjob I’m going to give you, and you want to play rough.” With a powerful surge, Oliver rolled them back to the center of the bed and spread his arms wide. “Here I am. Have at me.” Garrett wiggled his way down across Oliver’s torso to sprawl across his thighs. “I will. Now do what I told you to do.” Oliver raised his head, his blue eyes gone dark with arousal. He motioned to his cock, resting full and hard on his abdomen. “Is that enough of a salute for you, Captain?” “Smart ass. Now be still.” Garrett eased his lips over Oliver’s glans. Lord, the man tasted good, all clean male yet the unmistakable trace that was pure 70

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

Oliver was there, distinct and potent. He glanced up to see Oliver watching through almost closed eyes. Garrett ran his free hand along the inside of Oliver’s thigh. The muscles tensed and relaxed under his touch. Unhurried, he pleasured Oliver, reveling in every restless movement, every sigh. He varied his pace until Oliver moaned, then quickly changed his approach. A salty-sour drop hit his tongue, the taste of impending release. He slipped a hand between Oliver’s legs and pressed a finger firmly to his hole and massaged. Garrett didn’t have time do more. Oliver let out a short, sharp sound, half groan and half gasp. His body jerked. Oliver growled his name a moment before his hot life hit the back of Garrett’s throat. He swallowed, feeling the echoes of the tugging sensation it created in his own flesh. He applied extra pressure with his fingers to bring another groan from Oliver, rapidly followed by a desperate plea for him to stop. Garrett released him and rested his head on Oliver’s stomach. Garrett fisted his cock and stroked. Damn. He wasn’t able to get off a third time, at least not right now, and he was out of time. Oliver patted his shoulder. “What’s wrong, Garrett?” “My dick’s done for the night.” He eased up beside Oliver and kissed him. Oliver grasped the back of his head and deepened the kiss. Garrett sensed the passion of his release still reverberating inside him. He hated to do it, but he pulled away. “I need to head home and get some sleep.” “I know. You have a much longer commute than I do.” Garrett rolled is eyes. “Some commute. A hundred and fifty feet.” He kissed Oliver again, then hopped off the bed. Lingering 71

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

wouldn’t make leaving any easier. Garrett sorted through the pile of discarded clothing to find the pieces that belonged to him. Once dressed, he perched on the edge of the bed to put on his shoes. Would Oliver want to see him again? He wondered if he should say anything, then decided it might be better if he took his cues from Oliver the next time he stopped in at The Downshift Diner, which would probably be tomorrow evening on his way to Mount Franklin. Garrett reached for Oliver and their hands clasped. “Keep the coffee fresh for me.” Oliver squeezed his hand, then released it. “Will do.” Garrett turned and walked from the bedroom, filled with regret. He should go back, get naked, and spend the night in Oliver’s arms. And he would have if Oliver had called him back. *

*

*

Monday mornings at The Downshift Diner were hectic. The regular crowd descended and behaved as if they hadn’t seen their breakfast buddies in twenty years instead of two days. It took both Oliver and Murf cooking to keep the food flowing. As the rush eased, Murf plopped down on the barstool at the end of the counter and stared at Oliver. Oliver knew what was coming. “What now, Murphy? Just say it before you bust a gut.” “He seems like a nice boy.” “He’s thirty-two. Coffee?” He waved the carafe in Murf’s general direction. Murf nodded. “Really? He doesn’t look a day over twelve.” Oliver looked at the ceiling. “He looks older than that and you 72

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

know it. Do you have anything else to say, Mother Hen?” “Sammy was one thing. I understand that. Who doesn’t need some companionship? And if sex comes with it? I get it. But this young fella will break your heart, Oliver.” Denying it was pointless, especially when Murphy was correct. Oliver lifted the last ginger snap from the cookie jar. “I know. We’re out of cookies.” “We’re out of those. I have a whole batch of chocolate chip in the freezer. I’ll get them out to thaw before I go. Why didn’t he spend the night?” “The aforementioned kid has a day job.” “That’s good. Does he know about…” Oliver waved at a trucker stepping through the door. “Which…about? The accident or the money?” “Take yer pick.” “Accident, yes. The money, no. It’s not his business, Murf.” Garrett’s words came to mind. “I plan to fuck him, not marry him.” Oliver picked up an order pad and walked over to the newcomer to take his breakfast request. He saw no point in telling anyone he slept with how much money he had in the bank. The life insurance policy Uncle Ollie had left him had grown, true. But even five hundred seventy-five grand, safely invested, didn’t earn that much per annum these days. He always rolled the income back into the kitty. What he made from the diner supported his quiet lifestyle. Murf started to stand as Oliver walked around the end of the counter. Oliver stopped him with an easy pat on the shoulder. “Sit still and finish your coffee. I’ll fix Henry’s eggs.” “Thanks, boss.” Oliver looked at the ceiling, muttering. “Yeah, boss. Who does 73

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

he think he’s kidding? He only lets me believe I’m the boss.” “Talking to yourself is a bad sign, Oliver.” Murf laughed and downed the last of his coffee before disappearing into the back room. Oliver finished the breakfast order, delivered it, rang out a few customers, and started to clean up from the rush. It was basically the same routine every Monday, and he usually found it comfortable. Today, his thoughts were with Garrett. He worked on computers. Oliver imagined a room full of the pesky things, all beeping boxes and blinking screens. Vague recollections of flashing red, blue and yellow lights, and the sound of sirens crowded him. No, he didn’t like computers much, and it had more to do with the odd black holes and strange visions sealed in his bizarre, unreliable memories of the accident and its aftermath than the machines themselves. So many people loved the infernal contraptions, and apparently Garrett was one of them. Oliver understood the importance of having talented people to keep the things running. If Garrett had a true affinity for them and the wherewithal to plan his future with them and work hard to achieve it, Oliver was one hundred percent behind him. Last night had been unexpected, but terrific. He didn’t care if Garrett had come just for sex. He’d allow that young man to use him at will and love every minute of it. But there was something deeper going on. Oliver liked Garrett. He didn’t pretend to be a tough guy. He didn’t put on any superior airs. There was an open sincerity about Garrett that drew him, a tired moth to a burning flame. Would Garrett stop in and see him again? He’d alluded he planned to stop in the diner from time-to-time, but stopping for a snack didn’t 74

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

equate to spending the night. And spending the night didn’t automatically mean mind-bending sex. Oliver didn’t know what to expect next from him, but he knew one thing for sure. Murf was right. Garrett might just break his heart.

75

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

CHAPTER 10 By nine o’clock, Garrett was ready to beat his forehead on his desk. Monday mornings were always filled with one minor crisis after another. Why—why—wouldn’t people listen to him? Running a data file backup was so simple a six-year old could do it. Click the little desktop icon and the server took over. Yet every Monday there were at least three panic calls about lost data. Of course, the files weren’t really lost, either. They just weren’t located where the computer user-abuser thought they were. And how many times had he given instructions to the same people on how to run a search on the file name? And then there was Rafe. Tall, dark, handsome—and very young—Rafe, with more on his twink mind than his strategically misplaced files. Garrett gave the boy high marks for persistence, 76

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

but not such a good grade for subtlety. He took care of Rafe today via the telephone. After he hung up from the call, he didn’t remember what, exactly, he’d said to the boy. He couldn’t get yesterday out of his mind. The sounds Oliver made as he came echoed inside him, drowning other voices. The coffee in his cup was not the taste that lingered on his tongue. Every time he closed his eyes, the image of Oliver sprawled naked in the middle of the big bed waited for him. How the heck was he going to survive until four o’clock this afternoon without someone, especially his over-sexed co-worker, noticing he had a perpetual hard-on? He had to get his mind on his work. If he could just get through the day and drive the truck without steering it into a ditch, he’d stop and say hello to Oliver on the way back from Mount Franklin. He wouldn’t have time for more than a cup of coffee, and maybe, if Oliver walked him to the truck, a goodnight kiss, but it would have to suffice. He’d tell Oliver he didn’t have to drive Wednesday and see what the man suggested. Maybe he could put in for a couple of hours of the personal leave he never used for Thursday morning and sleep over. Garrett straightened. What if Oliver didn’t ask him to come for an extended visit on Wednesday? His dick finally settled to normal on the thought of Oliver rejecting the idea. He had to be prepared for that contingency. He was handed a reprieve for the afternoon in the form of an odd service request. One of the janitors had cut a printer cable— heaven only knew how—and he had to go pick up a replacement and get it plugged in. And, like he didn’t drive enough in the space of a day, the office it was in was on the other side of town. Garrett filled out the work order and handed it to his supervisor with the warning he planned to check over all the machines in that 77

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

locale while he was on the call. Since he had to drive that night and the depot was on that side of town, he received permission from his boss to leave whenever he was finished and fill out his time sheet in the morning. Garrett thanked him, grateful for the favor. By mid-afternoon, it became obvious he’d be finished early. A call to the dispatcher at Parker Transportation got him the promise of having his truck loaded and ready to go by three. If he made the highway by three-thirty, he could stop at the diner about five and have a chat with Oliver. If all went well, they’d have an hour or so during the return trip to talk or…whatever. He warned the dispatcher he planned to stop for a late dinner and not to panic if he didn’t have the truck back in the usual five to six hours. The man didn’t care provided Garrett called with confirmation of where he was and all was well. No problem. Keeping the truck to the speed limit was a problem. Garrett cruised into the parking lot of the busy Downshift Diner at four-forty, filled out the manifest, and strolled inside like he didn’t have a care in the world. Oliver walked up the aisle toward him, balancing a tray with one hand and wearing a big grin. “Boy, what you’re looking for is in the stock room.” “Um, maybe you should come and make sure I’ve got the right thing?” “I’ll be right there.” Oliver set the tray on the edge of a table and passed out plates. As Garrett slipped past him on the way to a more private greeting, he heard Oliver call out an order to the kitchen. “Hey, Murf, we need a ham and Swiss wrap to go for Garrett.” Murf stuck his head out the kitchen door. “Hi, Garrett. You need one or two to go? Coffee or soda?” 78

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

“Just one and a soda. Thanks.” Garrett paused and lowered his voice. “How much is that, just in case he won’t let me pay?” Murf snorted. “You already paid by putting that shit-eating grin on Oliver’s face. But if you want to give five bucks for the homeless shelter, we’ll take it.” Garrett pulled a ten-dollar bill from his pocket. “This’ll have to do since I don’t have a five. Hey!” He made a grab for the money as someone snatched it out of his hand. Oliver propelled him toward the back room. “You keep your money until you have your debts worked off, you hear me?” “Oliver, you’re pushing your luck. I was giving that to Murphy for the shelter.” With deft fingers, he recovered the bill and waved it at Murf. “Grab this before he interferes again!” The ten-spot vanished into Murf’s pocket as the door closed between them. Oliver backed him against the cool concrete wall. Garrett lifted his legs and wrapped them around Oliver’s hips. Oliver’s mouth settled over his and nothing else mattered. He moaned against Oliver’s lips, caught in a wave of desperate carnal need that had no hope of being met. Oliver’s tongue flicked over his, then withdrew. Garrett threw his head back as Oliver kissed down this neck. “I can’t stay long, Oliver. I’ve got to get the truck to Mount Franklin.” Oliver thrust his pelvis forward, the hard ridge of his cock riding Garrett’s. “Boy, it won’t take us long.” “I’ll be back in a few hours and can hang out until about tenthirty.” Garrett ducked his head and found Oliver’s lips for another hungry kiss. Oliver tapped him on the right hip, then gripped the back of his 79

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

thigh. Garrett set his left foot back on the floor, then the right. Oliver ran his thumb over his lower lip. “I guess I can live that long if you can. You’re here early. I didn’t expect you for at least another hour.” “When life throws you a doggie biscuit, you take it. I caught a break on my assignments today, that’s all.” Oliver reared back, eyes narrowed. “What happened to your eyes?” “Huh?” Garrett blinked at him, then grinned as Oliver tilted his chin to the left, still staring. “Aw, you noticed my eyes. That’s so sweet.” “I’d swear they were a different blue before.” He moved Garrett’s chin to the right. Garrett sighed, doing his best to sound exasperated. He could see Oliver wasn’t buying it, so he explained. “Contact lenses, Oliver. My tinted pair is soaking. These are clear.” “Son of a bitch. I’ve been marveling over your incredible blue eyes since I first saw you and now you tell me they’re fake.” He pulled Garrett away from the wall and spanked his butt. Garrett laughed, amused. “I’m just full of surprises.” Oliver nodded and suddenly pulled Garrett into the staff restroom and locked the door. “So am I.” Garrett’s pulse surged. His balls tingled as goose bumps sped over his skin. He didn’t protest—couldn’t had he wanted to—as Oliver unsnapped his jeans, laid his warm palms on Garrett’s hips, and slid his pants halfway down his thighs. Oliver’s fingers closed around his stiff cock as he dropped to his knees in front of Garrett. Garrett braced himself against the door to keep from tumbling over as Oliver’s warm, wet mouth enveloped him. “I didn’t stop for this, I swear.” He buried his fingers in 80

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

Oliver’s dark hair. An amused-sounding grunt was the reply. He let his head rest against the door and closed his eyes. It wasn’t going to take long. Oliver was too good at his work. The pleasure built at the base of his spine, spreading heat through his groin. Little jolts of increasing ardor drove him upward, step-by-step, toward the top. Oliver caressed the back of his thighs on his way to his ass. His fingertips grazed the dark crevice between his buttocks. That was all Garrett needed. “Oliver. Now!” He barely got the words out. The hot coil in his belly sprang free, searing him from the inside out. Awareness of anything beyond the pulsing bliss radiating up his backbone hazed away. He fell into velvety darkness, borne there by Oliver’s soft lips and tongue. Somewhere within he realized Oliver was with him, sucking every drop from him, but the dancing stars crowding his vision held him enthralled. Garrett dropped back into himself, spent, legs shaking with the effort to keep him from sliding down the door into a heap at Oliver’s knees. He bent over and braced himself, hands on Oliver’s shoulders. Oliver looked up at him. Garrett swallowed and sucked in a deep breath. “Why do you look so smug? I’m the one who got off.” “I get that look when I give a really good blowjob.” “Ha. You had great material to work with.” Oliver laughed, an open, genuine sound that warmed Garrett more than the orgasm. Oliver rocked back on his heels and reached for Garrett’s jeans to tug them up. He laughed again when Garrett squirmed away from him to zip up on his own. Oliver leaned against the door in the spot he’d just vacated and motioned for him to come closer. He leaned on Oliver, reveling in the strong arms 81

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

around him. “Do I thank you or does that make you all cocky?” “Take the chance.” Garrett pulled Oliver’s mouth down to his and tasted his own musk. Oliver’s lips clung softly to his for a moment, then he pulled away. Garrett hugged him. “Thank you, Oliver. I have to get on the road. We do have an ‘in transit’ time limit I have to meet when the truck is loaded. United States mail and all that. I can’t be too late.” “What about when you come back? Do you haul mail back to Owensville?” Oliver made no move to release him. “Nope. It’s either paper products—napkins, paper plates, paper towels—or it’s empty. But there’s more leeway on the return haul, and a meal break built in if I need to take it. Plus, the dispatcher is cool so long as the truck’s okay and the manifest is correct.” “I’m relieved to hear that, and not because it gives you time to stop and play.” Garrett hated to do it, but he stepped out of Oliver’s embrace. “Me, too. I really have to go, and you have to get back to work.” “Yeah, you’re right.” Oliver shooed him away from the sink and opened the hot water tap. Garrett shrugged. He tucked in his T-shirt while Oliver thoroughly scrubbed his hands. Finished, he squirted a generous glob of an anti-bacterial gel on his palm and smeared it all the way up his colorful, tattooed arms. “Just in case I get roped into helping again before I get out of here. When you come back from Mount Franklin, if the walk lights are on, go straight up to the house.” “Save time. Be naked.” Oliver laughed and shook his head. “We’ll see, babe. Go on 82

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

and grab your dinner. I’m hiding from Murf until you’re gone.” Garrett planted one last wet, sloppy kiss on his lips and slipped out the door. “You’re the boss.” He closed the door before Oliver could reply. Murphy held out a brown bag and a soda with a lid out to him, then snatched them back when he reached for them. His dark eyes gleamed with mischief. “You’re all flushed, boy. Is he still breathing?” He handed Garrett the bag and drink. Garrett shrugged his shoulders and kept moving. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mr. Murphy. See ya later.” Behind him, Murf laughed. He walked to the box truck, grinning until he stepped around the rear bumper. Shaun sat on the fender of his car, hidden from view of the diner.

83

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

CHAPTER 11 Garrett’s temper spiked. The warm glow Oliver had infused in him faded. “Stop fucking stalking me, Shaun. Don’t force me to get a restraining order.” Shaun slid off the car and licked his lips nervously. “What are you doing here, Garrett? I didn’t know you ever stopped at the diner.” What? The hair on his arms rose. The only thing that kept him from grabbing Shaun and tossing him into his car with orders to stay away from him was Shaun’s pale, shocked face. “Why do you need to know, Shaun? How do you know what I do and don’t do? Are you following me?” “Of course not. I, um, was waiting for someone. I didn’t…” 84

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

Garrett cut him off. “You saw the Parker Transportation truck. You knew I was inside the diner.” “Garrett, you need to leave. Don’t stop in here again tonight.” A cold finger of apprehension slithered down Garrett’s spine. “Why? What have you done? What are you into, Shaun? Where’d you get the two grand?” “Don’t ask me questions you don’t really want the answers to.” Garrett’s heart pounded. His chest tightened to the point he couldn’t breathe. This was something new in his ex-lover. The alarm bells sounding in his head grew louder. “You need to be the one to get out of here, Shaun. I know the owner, and I can assure you he’s looking out the window wondering why I haven’t left. He’ll be out here in a minute and he’ll get answers.” “You’re bluffing.” “No. I’m not.” A cold realization settled over Garrett. There was only one reason Shaun would be way out here at the only stopping place between Owensville and Mount Franklin. “Are you making drug deals in this parking lot, Shaun? Don’t. Find another spot. If I see you here again, I’ll be the one to call the cops.” “You always thought you were soooo smart. Mr. Goody Two Shoes. That’s you. You had opportunities handed to you, Garrett. I had nothing.” “It’s been two years, and we’re going to go all through that shit again? You had every chance you needed, Shaun! You were too lazy to avail yourself of any opportunity that came your way!” “Sure I did. My parents tossed me out. I had to get a job. I couldn’t go to college and tech school like you.” The clock in Garrett’s mind ticked faster. Oliver was sure to 85

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

walk around the rear of the truck at any moment to see what was wrong. Maybe he should wait for it to happen. Oliver needed to know drug dealers used his parking lot. “I know. Poor, poor, pitiful Shaun. You get out of here and you don’t stop again. Stay away from the diner. I mean it. Forget you ever knew me. Forget about the money. I don’t want anything to do with it or you, Shaun.” Shaun opened the car door and dropped into the driver’s seat. “It’s not that easy, GT. Not for me.” He slammed the door and started the engine. The car lurched forward and disappeared from Garrett’s view. He slumped against the truck, shaking. Now what the fuck should he do? One decision was made for him as Oliver stepped around the side of the truck. “Hey, something wrong?” Garrett couldn’t lie to him. “Yeah. My ex was here waiting for me.” Oliver straightened, his expression guarded. “Were you expecting him?” “No. He’s either stalking me or selling drugs in your parking lot. Or both.” “You don’t seem surprised he’d do one…or both.” Garrett opened the truck door and set his brown bag dinner inside. “I’m not. I wonder what I ever saw in him.” Oliver squeezed his shoulder. “Big dick, huh?” Garrett turned and hugged him. “Not really, but the sex was plentiful.” Oliver kissed his cheek. “I do understand. You need to forget about him and drive.” “Yeah, but I don’t trust him. He’s brought some sort of trouble 86

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

here. I can feel it.” “I’m not worried about it, Garrett. A lot of state cruisers stop in here for meals and coffee. They keep an eye on the place.” He gave Garrett a little shake and held him at arms’ length. “They will handle any trouble. Do you hear me? You’re out of it.” Garrett nodded. “Okay. Believe me when I say I don’t want any part of what he’s mixed up in. Now I’m worried the money he paid me back with was drug money.” “You can’t carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. Don’t buy trouble, because enough will find you on its own. Now get out here and drive so you can get back.” The man made him feel better, but seeing Shaun had had the effect of throwing cold water on his libido. He hoped it would rebound later. Garrett fished his keys out of his pocket. “I’m going. See me go?” Oliver tapped his butt as he swung up into the cab. “Go carefully, okay?” “Yeah, yeah. Always. Now don’t walk behind my truck when it’s in gear.” He closed the door and blew Oliver a kiss. Oliver watched Garrett drive out of the parking lot, then headed for the house. He had a few calls to make. *

*

*

Oliver lounged on his front porch and watched the activity in the diner’s parking lot. The ice-cold knot in his stomach refused to melt. He knew the location of The Downshift Diner had drawn the attention of several drug dealers. The state police knew it, too. Oliver hadn’t hesitated when they approached him and asked to plant an undercover office in the dinner—Billy. 87

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

Why the hell did they think he called them every other week if he didn’t want them to take the necessary steps to get the dealers off his property? Was Garrett involved? He didn’t think so. It went against everything he sensed about the young man. But the ex-boyfriend? Garrett himself mentioned drugs. No, he’d put all his money down that Garrett was a straight arrow when it came to anything illegal. How much should he confess to Garrett? His gut said he needed to tell him everything, up to and including not stopping at the diner when he said so. Billy alluded the bust was imminent and had given his word to forward a warning to Oliver, if possible. Oliver didn’t want Garrett to get caught in any crossfire, real or metaphorical. And yet, he wondered about the topic of the conversation Garrett and the ex had had hidden behind Garrett’s truck. Damn his suspicious nature! Damn his sense of fair play, too. Before he took Garrett back to his bed again, he had to be honest with him. His stomach plunged nervously when he checked his watch. Garrett should arrive at any moment. He’d waste what little time the young man had this evening talking instead of messing up the sheets, but it couldn’t be helped. There. Finally. Oliver sat quietly as a white box truck with dark patterned decals drove to the far end of the lot and parked. The pole lights made the lettering appear black, but he knew it was blue. The truck idled for several minutes, then the headlamps dimmed and the engine went silent. He stood and reached inside the front door and flipped the light switch up and down to make the globes that lined the walkway blink. Garrett swung out of the cab, his hand on the grab bar. He dropped gracefully to the ground and slammed the 88

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

door closed. Oh, to be that young and agile. Garrett jogged across the blacktop and up the path, not even breathing hard as he bounded up the steps and into Oliver’s open arms. Oliver lost his balance as the force of Garrett’s forward momentum drove him backward, his body colliding with the brick wall of the house. He barely felt it. Every cell in his body focused on Garrett’s lips greedily feasting on his. Arousal whipped through him, settling in his groin. His cock swelled, eager to lead him past what had to be said and upstairs to the waiting bed. Garrett released his mouth and sucked in a lungful of air. “Oh, God, those were the longest hundred-and-forty-nine minutes of my life.” Oliver cupped his ass—his perfect, just-right for a handful ass. “Tell me about it. Every time I heard a truck coming, I wondered if it was you.” “I think it’s romantic you were sitting here waiting on me.” “You are so full of bull.” Oliver stopped squeezing Garrett’s butt and caressed his lean sides. Every rib was a bump under his palms. He needed to put a little meat on the boy’s bones. Oliver eased Garrett off him. “We need to talk.” Garrett protested, shaking his head. “No, we need to get naked.” Oliver gripped his shoulders. “Please, Garrett, have a seat for a minute. This is important.” “So is getting your dick in my mouth, Oliver.” It was hard—very hard—to combat such logic, but he had to try. “Garrett. Sit.” Oliver didn’t wait for him to decide which chair he wanted before he launched into what he had to say. “Here’s the thing. I 89

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

need to know if you’re running drugs between Owensville and Mount Franklin.” Garrett dropped onto a chair and stared at him, mouth open. He swallowed. “No fucking way, Ollie. Okay, you don’t know me, so ya asked. I get it. Now don’t ever ask me that question again. It’s not who I am.” “I didn’t think so, but I had to ask.” Oliver pulled the other deck chair around to face Garrett and sat. “The ex-boyfriend. How tight are you and he?” Garrett grimaced. “I hadn’t seen him in two years and all of a sudden he’s showing up places. He was outside where I work to give me a check—money he owed me. He repaid money to my mother, then bingo! He’s outside my apartment. He’s here tonight.” Garrett took a short, quick breath and met Oliver’s gaze. “Yeah, I’m curious about where he got the money. Real curious. I don’t want to learn he gave my Mom drug money.” Oliver noted the unease in Garrett’s troubled eyes. He’d been around the drug scene as a younger, more stupid man. He knew the truth when he heard it. “I believe you, Garrett, and I’m sorry if I offended you, but here’s the thing. The cops have the diner under observation.” Garrett leaned back. “No shit. They told you?” “I called them and said I had a developing problem. The officers in the cruisers like me. I treat ’em right.” Oliver held out his hand and waited the space of the three heartbeats it took for Garrett to lay his cold palm against his. “What are you going to do if this ex of yours is involved?” “Nothing.” “Just like that?” “What the fuck should I do? Whatever he’s done, he made the 90

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

choices. Not me.” Garrett pulled his hand from Oliver’s and rubbed his face. “I’m beat. I need to get home.” “I know.” Oliver rose and dragged his chair deeper into the shadows. “Come here and sit on my lap first.” “Do what, ya perv?” Oliver patted his knees. “No kinky stuff, I swear.” “How disappointing.” Garrett straddled his hips and eased down on Oliver’s thighs to face him. “How’s this?” “Better than I imagined.” Oliver wrapped his arms around Garrett’s hips and pulled him closer. “One more thing and I’ll shut up. I need your cell phone number. If I call you and tell you to stay away from the diner some night, you’ve got to do as I say.” “You took a big risk telling me this, didn’t you?” “Did I? It doesn’t feel that way.” Oliver cupped the back of Garrett’s head and guided his mouth down to his for a kiss. Garrett teased his lips with his tongue, licking him playfully. “Maybe I should call the dispatcher and tell him my dinner is taking longer than anticipated.” Oliver’s pulse quickened. He’d given up the idea of more sex in favor of getting Garrett back on the road in time to get a good night’s sleep. But if there was one thing he understood, and well, it was sleep always lost out over getting laid. Oliver dipped his hand down the back of Garrett’s jeans and under the waistband of his underwear. His middle finger stroked the top of Garrett’s crack. “Don’t let me do anything to influence your decision.”

91

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

CHAPTER 12 Garrett shivered as Oliver played with his ass. It wasn’t just that busy finger sending goose bumps up his spine, it was what Oliver had confided to him, and what he couldn’t tell Shaun. Garrett had a niece and a nephew, and they both meant a lot to him. If Shaun were dealing drugs, it had the potential to reach into Abby and Alan’s school. They were good kids, but what if they succumbed to temptation and decided to experiment? No, he meant what he’d said to Oliver. Shaun’s choices were his own. What was his decision for tonight? Garrett rested his head on Oliver’s shoulder. Oliver worked his hand lower. The tip of his finger grazed his hole. Garrett shifted his pelvis closer to Oliver’s and wiggled his hips to rub his bulging zipper against the front of Oliver’s jeans. 92

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

Horny as hell or not, he should be responsible and get the truck back by midnight. But more than anything he wanted to spend the night in Oliver’s arms. Here was a place he could rest, and if it turned into something more, he wouldn’t object. “You’re too tired for hanky-panky, kiddo.” Oliver pulled his hand out of Garrett’s pants. “You need to go and get off the road before you fall asleep at the wheel.” The man made a lot of sense, but Garrett needed touch, needed to feel Oliver’s hands on his stiff cock. He slipped his hand between their bodies, unsnapped his jeans, eased his zipper down, and freed his dick from the confining denim. “We can make it quick.” Oliver leaned back and unzipped. “I’m good with quick, but if a mosquito finds my willy and decides to snatch a meal, I won’t be happy.” He shoved the elastic waistband of his shorts under his sac. Garrett snorted. “Nice hook ya got there.” “I like it. Helps hold my balls up where you can tickle ’em.” He grinned at Oliver as he took his hint. “Your balls are hairy. Mine are smooth and slick.” Oliver chuckled as he took Garrett’s cock between his thumb and forefinger and stroked. “I don’t like the idea of my balls and a razor in the same sentence, much less having them become intimately acquainted.” Garrett wet his fingers and rubbed Oliver’s slit. Oliver shifted his fingers. “Do me like this.” He changed the position of his hand to mirror Oliver’s and lowered his lips to his lover’s. Oliver made a low sound, deep in his throat. Garrett grew bolder with a longer stroke. The warmth of Oliver’s arm around him, of his palm splayed in the middle of his 93

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

back holding him, soothed his restless need to have a connection beyond sex with another man. Oliver was different somehow. In the back of his mind he knew he had to figure out why. When he could think again. The light touch on his dick made it hard to draw a deep breath. Oliver’s knowing fingers rolled the velvety outer skin over the steel inner core. The small motions, never hurried, without pause, sent delicious hot jolts of pleasure up his spine. Oliver’s tongue licked into his, coaxing him to a faster pace. Beneath his, Oliver’s muscled thighs tensed. The rich scent of male arousal rose between them. Oliver suddenly broke off the kiss. “Help me get my T-shirt off.” Garrett grabbed it by the hem and pulled upward. Oliver peeled the rest of the way out of it without releasing his hold on Garrett’s shaft. He draped the soft fabric over their hands. It was hard for Garrett to speak. “You think…we’re about to…make a mess?” Oliver groaned. Heat shot through Garrett’s groin at the sound, the flush spreading outward. His nipples tingled and he couldn’t remember how to rub them. A sparkling bliss beckoned. Garrett reached for it and fell. His only anchor was Oliver’s arm around him as he came. He dropped back into awareness at Oliver’s sharp cry and the sudden renewed wet heat that spilled over his hand. Oliver’s head tilted back against the chair back, eyes closed. He looked totally relaxed, content, and younger. Garrett memorized every line of Oliver’s handsome face. The corner of his mouth twitched. “Are you watching me?” “Yes. I want to remember the way you look right now.” Oliver opened his eyes. “Why?” 94

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

In the dark, Garrett couldn’t read the expression there. “No reason. Just because.” He grabbed a fistful of T-shirt and started to tidy up. Oliver stroked his rapidly shrinking penis one last time and released him. He dried his hand on the part of the garment Garrett wasn’t using. Garrett finished and dropped the T-shirt on the deck. He kissed Oliver lightly. “Not quite the evening I had planned, but I liked it.” Oliver ran his warm hands up under his shirt to touch his nipples. “Hmm. Me, too. When do you have a real night off?” Garrett rested his head against Oliver’s, thoughts swirling. Spending the night was rushing things and he knew it. But why not? What would it really hurt? Because if he agreed, Oliver might get the idea he wanted more than friendship. They already had something more than that between them. With two jobs, he didn’t have time for a relationship, but he knew he couldn’t walk away from Oliver, not now. “You want to spend all night with me? Fuck me blind?” “Yes, I’d like you to come stay over some night. I’ll even whip up a special breakfast you can’t get at the diner.” “Oh, now he’s talking with a dirty mouth.” Garrett eased off Oliver’s lap and tucked his boy bits back inside his jeans and zipped up. “How’s Wednesday night sound?” “Don’t you have to work the next day?” “I’ve got about a month of personal leave accrued. I can tap it for a couple of hours Thursday morning.” “Okay. Wednesday it is. Come inside so I can get your cell number.” Oliver held the door open for him, then followed him into the foyer. 95

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

He tried to convince Oliver to get a smart phone while they exchanged numbers, not surprised when Oliver resisted the idea. Oliver held him tightly as they said their goodnights. Garrett leaned on his strength for a moment, then pulled away. “Stop in tomorrow night?” Garrett nodded. “Yep, but I’ll call if the schedule gets changed.” “Do that.” Oliver tapped his butt. “Get going.” “Yes, Daddy.” Oliver’s soft laughter followed him down the walk. *

*

*

Garrett made it through the workday Tuesday with a minimum of effort. He would’ve preferred to be busier to make the time pass faster, but some days were just slow. It gave him time to cut two deals—one with his boss and one with the dispatcher. He ran some checks on the server, trolled the Internet for updates and tech news, and by virtue of working through his lunch hour, closed up shop at three o’clock on the nose. He made it to the depot, thanked the dispatcher and the dock crew for loading his truck early two days in a row, and headed for Mount Franklin. Once he was safely on the highway, he inserted his earpiece and called Oliver. His voicemail picked up. Disappointed but not surprised, Garrett left a message he was on the road early and would arrive before five. Ten minutes later, Oliver called him back. “So what can I fix you for dinner? The special today is spaghetti.” “Sounds good, but it’s too heavy to eat and drive with that 96

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

much in my stomach. I might get sleepy. How about a grilled chicken sandwich?” “You’ve got it.” Oliver paused. “Why don’t I fix it and you can eat back at the house?” Garrett laughed. “I swear, you can read my mind. Gotta drive. ’Bye.” He disconnected and resisted the urge to increase his speed. The onboard computer was a real tattletale. When he arrived at the diner, Oliver stood outside and then walked to meet him as he parked. Garrett waited inside the truck as Oliver approached. The tense lines of his shoulders and the grim set of his mouth said more than words. “Change of plans.” Oliver handed him a brown bag and a soda. “You need to keep driving and don’t stop back in here tonight.” Garrett looked into Oliver’s worried eyes. “Something going down tonight?” “It looks like it. I want you clear of whatever happens. I mean it, Garrett. You listen to me.” “And you’re smart enough to dive under a table if you see a gun, right?” Garrett swung down out of the truck. “Do you have a few minutes now?” Oliver shook his head. “I’m dropping behind the counter. Fuck those flimsy tables. You have to be on your way. I have three undercover cops inside. I don’t want them to think I’m out here warning you off.” “You are.” “Yeah, but not for the reasons they might think.” Garrett glanced at the diner, then backed Oliver against the truck. “So kiss me and I’ll be on my way.” “That’s easy.” Oliver slipped his arms around Garrett’s waist 97

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

and pulled him close. Garrett leaned in and kissed him, putting on a show of passion for whoever might be watching from inside the diner. It wasn’t all show, though. He ached all over knowing they wouldn’t be together later and channeled all his energy, and regret, into the kiss. Oliver nipped the corner of his mouth. “That should be sufficient, young man.” “Yeah, to show them, but not to hold me until tomorrow night.” He reached up for the grab bar on the side of the cab and stepped up. “You’ll call and let me know what happened?” Oliver nodded. “I will. And Garrett, for what it’s worth, I really hope your ex doesn’t show up here tonight.” “Me, too.” Garrett bent down from his perch on the running board and gave Oliver a last kiss before settling in the driver’s seat. “Call me.” “I said I would. Now, beat it.” Oliver closed the truck door and hit it twice. Garrett started the engine, put the truck in gear, and maneuvered his way out of the parking lot. No wonder Oliver looked stressed. The man had to be worried about all sorts of things, not the least of which was what would happen if things went bad. What would the police do if there were a lot of clients in the diner and someone started shooting? How could they protect everyone? What if his ex-boyfriend was involved? Had Oliver given him tactic permission to call Shaun? Probably not, and even if he had, Garrett would not. But like Oliver, he hoped Shaun had been spooked by his presence and would not be there during a bust. He drove to the depot in Mount Franklin and turned the truck over to the unloading crew. Unfortunately, he had to wait and drive 98

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

the same truck back to Owensville tonight, empty. That meant he had at least an hour to kill. Garrett sighed and told them he’d be in the lunchroom. If he could only fantasize about what he and Oliver could have been doing tonight, he might as well do it on a full stomach. A few seconds in the microwave reheated his sandwich. He wolfed it down and then flopped on the ratty sofa and forced himself to rest instead of pace the floor for an hour or so willing his cell phone to ring. Finally, one of the dockworkers stuck his head in the door and informed him the truck was empty and the paperwork signed. Garrett thanked him and went to the dispatcher’s office to sign out. He’d be in bed—alone—early tonight. Whether or not he’d be able to sleep was an entirely different matter. He really wished Oliver would call and give him the all clear to stop. Not knowing what was going on at the diner plucked at his nerves. The quick answer to that—call Oliver. He did and it went straight to voicemail. He’d slow down as he passed The Downshift Diner and take a good look for himself. It took forty minuets to get to the diner and just four seconds to make the wrong decision. Shaun’s car sat parked out front, headlights on, motor running. He had to stop. Oliver would be pissed; about that, he had no doubt. Garrett would accept whatever reprimand came his way because he couldn’t drive blindly on his way to Owensville without knowing what was going on inside. Garrett parked the truck, strolled through the front door of the diner like he didn’t have a care in the world, and skidded to a dead stop in his tracks. Shaun had a gun pointed at Oliver. 99

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

CHAPTER 13 Oliver’s heart pounded furiously, its rapid pumping preventing him from drawing a deep breath. His stomach clenched. Damn that young man for not listening to me! Billy had been in the kitchen when the ex-boyfriend charged in and demanded the money from the cash register. Oliver had Billy in sight, but Shaun couldn’t see through the wall. He didn’t know Billy had his weapon drawn. But Billy couldn’t see Garrett. If he popped around the corner and fired, his lover could be hit. Damn that young man for not listening to me! He had to get the boy to give up his gun before someone got hurt—or worse. “Son, you need to put your weapon down. What you see here is a room full of innocent people. I have no problem with giving you 100

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

what’s in the register and letting you go, so long as you don’t open fire.” Shaun didn’t waver. “What do you think, Garrett? Should we take the money and run?” Shock ran through Oliver, all the way to his feet, swiftly replaced by anger. Garrett’s face went ghostly pale as he held his hand out. “What’re you doing, Shaun? Have you lost your mind? Put the gun down.” Shaun jerked away. “Don’t touch me, GT. I tried to talk to you, but you wouldn’t listen.” “What is there to talk about? You stole my credit cards and put me twenty-two thousand dollars in debt. You cheated on me, and now, you stupid motherfucker, you’re here, trying to rob the place! Why? What happened that you have to do this?” “I’m tired of having nothing. People take, take, take and never give. Well, it’s my turn. I’m taking.” “No, Shaun, people don’t take. People get jobs. They work hard and they save their money to be able to afford what they want. You have to know I only have stuff because I go to work every day. Why can’t you understand that?” His gaze flicked to Oliver. “Shaun, put the gun down. I know Oliver. He means it when he says he’ll give you the money, as long as you don’t hurt anyone.” In the corner of Oliver’s vision, Billy moved. Garrett had distracted Shaun enough for him to move undetected and have a better shot at Shaun. Oliver started at the sudden vision of Shaun lying bleeding at Garrett’s feet. He couldn’t allow Garrett’s ex-lover to be shot right in front of him. Garrett might not get over something like that. Shaun jerked in alarm and waved the gun at him. 101

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

“Don’t move!” Oliver held his hands out at his sides. “I’m not moving. I’m standing here. But if you let me, I’ll back my way over to the cash register and get the money.” Shaun shook his head. “No. Garrett’s going to open the drawer, aren’t you, partner?” “I’ll do whatever you want if you put the gun down. Shaun, if someone gets hurt, you’ll never get out of this.” Sweat trickled down Oliver’s back. He couldn’t simply stand rooted to the spot and let Shaun implicate Garrett in a crime he was not involved in. Shaun’s words were damning, and at the very least, Garrett would be questioned. He had to do something to prove Garrett was innocent. He took a step backward to draw Shaun’s focus. “Shaun, I’m going to get the money for you. Just stay calm.” He took another step back. The undercover cop in the fifth booth had his gun cradled in his lap, out of Shaun’s sight. A wave of panic swept him. He had no way to warn Garrett. All he could do was speak to the room and hope everyone listened. “Everybody needs to stay calm. I’m going to give Shaun the money in the register, and he’s going to leave.” Shaun shook his head. “I’m not going anywhere without Garrett. Stand beside me, lover.” Oliver knew by the look on Garrett’s face he would refuse. He’d never felt so utterly helpless in his life. If the shooting started, better Shaun hit him than Garrett or a customer. “I don’t think so, Shaun. I don’t know what you’re into, but I don’t want any part of it. Is this how you got the money you repaid me? You stole it?” 102

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

Oliver stared at Garrett, talking to him with his eyes, trying to tell him not to antagonize Shaun further. Garrett blinked. Did that mean he understood? He’d reached the end of the counter and stepped behind it. Shaun raised the gun and pointed it at Garrett. “Old man, if you pull a weapon from under the bar, I will shoot him.” Garrett glared at him. “You’re a real piece of work. I can’t believe I slept with you.” “Why couldn’t you keep sleeping with me?” Shaun’s voice cracked. “You said you loved me and then you took it all away.” He motioned to Oliver. “And now you’re fucking that old man. I don’t understand, GT.” “Shaun, I tried to get through to you, but…” The cop in the fifth booth slid from his seat and stood, his gun up. “Shaun, I’m a cop. You’re in enough trouble. Put your gun on the floor, kick it over here to me, then lie down with your arms behind your back. You don’t need to die today, son.” Shaun wavered visibly and started to shake. Oliver looked at Garrett. Garrett mouthed the words, Say something, at him. Oliver didn’t know what would help, so he said the only thing he could think of. “Shaun, whatever trouble you’re in, let us help you.” Billy eased around the corner, gun leveled. Oliver saw the fear rise in Garrett. He turned to Billy, palms held in front of his body in a pleading gesture. The cop at the booth shook his head. The safety snicked off on Billy’s gun. “Garrett, move away,” Billy ordered. Garrett stood his ground. “Shaun! Shaun, please, listen to them!” Tears rolled down Shaun’s face. “I’ve messed up everything 103

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

I’ve ever touched.” A fresh wave of panic slammed into Oliver. He’d suspected the boy was on something when he came in, and now it was obvious he was crashing. He’d suddenly become a threat to himself as well as everyone else. “Son, Garrett’s right. You need to listen to me. We’ll get this straightened out, but first you have to put the gun down.” Shaun’s shoulders slumped. Oliver washed cold as Garrett very slowly reached out and grasped Shaun’s arm, the one with the gun. His mind filled with visions of blood—Garrett’s blood—staining the diner floor. He couldn’t breathe as Garrett’s hand slowly trailed down Shaun’s arm to his wrist, across his knuckles and gently pulled the gun from Shaun’s fingers. Oliver’s knees went weak with relief as Billy grabbed the gun from Garrett and shoved him backward against the wall, restraining him. The cop from booth five flung Shaun roughly to the floor, while the third officer, who’d occupied the last booth, quickly had his weapon up and ready. Oliver bolted from behind the counter and pried Billy away from Garrett. “Let go of him, Billy. He’s done nothing wrong.” Billy flashed him an unhappy look as he patted Garrett’s shoulders and ribs to reassure himself his lover was in one unharmed piece. “I should beat you,” he snapped as he pulled Garrett to him. The young man was warm and solid, safe but shaking violently in his arms. Customers be damned if they didn’t like to see two guys hugging. “I’m sorry, Oliver. I’m sorry. I saw his car and I had to stop.” “I know you did, but, damn it, boy, you could’ve been seriously hurt!” Oliver held tighter. 104

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

Billy tapped him on the arm. “Oliver, we’ve got to question him.” “Okay, but let him sit and drink some water first.” He eased Garrett down into the first booth as the third trooper moved customers quickly out the door, instructing them not to leave until they’d given statements. One corner of his mind noted the regulars dropping money on their tables as they went. As if he cared if they paid for their meals tonight. He went behind the counter and filled two glasses with ice water. He handed one to Garrett, then knelt to hand one to Shaun before they handcuffed him. He reached up and grabbed a fistful of napkins so the boy could wipe his face and blow his nose. Oliver was angry, upset at what Shaun had brought to his door, but he been given kindness at the hand of a stranger when he was at his lowest. He could do no less. Billy motioned him away, and he slid into the booth beside Garrett and put his arm around him. “Better?” Garrett nodded. “Oliver, I swear I had nothing in this.” “I know. I believe you. I think it’s pretty clear he thought he could save himself by implicating you. I’ll go with you to police headquarters.” “Jesus, there goes the driving job.” Garrett slumped against him. “You don’t know that for certain. The cops need to talk to you to get an idea about what Shaun might be into.” “What can I tell them? Until this past week, I hadn’t seen Shaun for two years. And I didn’t fill out the manifest before I got out of the truck, so yeah, they can fire instead of suspending me. Their choice.” Oliver was sorry Garrett would lose his part-time job. It could 105

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

mean he’d never see him again. He’d have to find a way to coax Garrett to make the drive to the diner on his own. “So you tell them exactly what you told me, Garrett.” Oliver tipped Garrett’s chin up and searched the younger man’s face. “Do you need a lawyer?” Garrett pushed him away and glared at him, his eyes gone black and wild with fear. “For what? You said you believed me! I didn’t do anything! I’m not lying to you, Oliver.” “I do believe you. You need to know I’ll call my lawyer immediately if it starts to look like you’ll need one.” “Jesus. My parents—” He broke off mid-sentence as Billy hauled Shaun to his feet and muscled him out the door. “He really is a cop.” “Yes, he is. There’s a chance Shaun isn’t involved with the drug traffic Billy’s been watching. I’ve never seen him here before last night. It could be he decided to rob the place and his timing sucked.” “Oliver, I…” Garrett stared at him, a confused and bewildered expression on his face. Oliver guided his head back to his shoulder. He was sure if he gave himself permission, he’d be just as speechless. Reaction began to set in. His stomach quivered and his guts churned. Thank God, no one had been hurt. About twenty people, two of them young teens with their parents, had been inside the diner. They’d all been caught unaware—himself, Billy, the two undercover officers—and none of them had reacted until Shaun pointed the gun and demanded money. For a moment, Oliver feared he would be physically sick. Billy slid in the booth across from them. “Let’s get this over with. Both of you need to come with me to the barracks, answer 106

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

some questions, and give a statement. Now is better than later.” Oliver nodded. “May I drive or do we need to go in the cruiser?” Billy studied them for a moment. Oliver was good at reading other men. He knew the look. Billy believed Garrett. “I trust you, Oliver. You can drive so your car is there, but Garrett has to ride with me.” “Then he rides up front, Billy.” The cop’s lips thinned, then he nodded. Garrett spoke up. “I have to call dispatch. Someone has to come get the truck. It needs to go back out in the morning. And I have to pee.” “Make your call, hit the men’s room, then let’s go.” Billy tapped the table, two quick beats, and went to talk to the third officer. Oliver motioned Garrett to follow him into the stock room. Garrett trailed behind him, looking over his shoulder. “They’re just going to let us come in here on our own? I could run out the backdoor and disappear.” “They know you won’t.” He locked the door, and Garrett suddenly wrapped his arms around his neck. “Tell me you’re not pissed at me.” “I don’t know whether to be grateful you’re okay, or be furious with you and kick your ass all the back to Owensville. Why didn’t you listen to me?” “I saw his car out front. I had to know what he was doing.” “Well, now you know, don’t you? Does it make you feel better?” Garrett’s chest rose and fell against his. “Of course not. I feel bad for him, for whatever happened that made him do this.” 107

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

Relief Garrett wasn’t injured gave way to anger. “You can’t fix him, and I can’t fix this. By your presence and his words, you’re implicated as a party to his actions. That’s exactly the sort of thing I wanted to avoid.”

108

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

CHAPTER 14 Garrett knew Oliver was right, but didn’t have time to ask for his forgiveness again. Billy knocked on the door and told them to hurry up. “You’d better make the call about the truck. I have to call Murphy and ask him to come in on his night off and clean up the mess.” Garrett pulled his cell phone from his pocket and pressed a speed dial button. When the dispatcher answered, he explained briefly that he’d stopped at the diner to use the restroom and walked in on a robbery. Now he had to go to the state police barrack and give a statement. That was all the dispatcher needed to know at this point, and if nothing different was printed in the paper, Garrett might be able to keep the driving job with only a 109

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

short suspension over the manifest. He didn’t have a lot of hope, though. Too many people had been in the diner and some of them would surely be willing to talk to the media. He was more worried about Oliver being angry with him. Oliver snapped his phone closed, then turned. “They’re waiting for us. We need to go.” He motioned Garrett to the door. “Oliver…” Garrett reached for him, needing to hold him for a moment and exchange a kiss, but Oliver shook his head. “No. We need to get this over with and then I’ll drive you to Owensville.” Garrett’s heart sank at Oliver’s rejection of physical contact. There could be only one thing left for them to talk about. He’d never hold Oliver again. Strange how badly that hurt considering he’d only known the man a handful of days. Oliver grasped his elbow. “Remember you don’t have to talk to Billy on the ride. You have that right.” Garrett laid his hand over Oliver’s. “I have nothing to hide from him or you, Oliver. If he asks, I’ll answer. I can’t believe you won’t kiss me.” “I’m not in the mood.” Oliver met his gaze, then opened the door. Billy looked them up and down. “The door’s pretty thin, guys. Let’s go, Garrett.” Garrett had no choice but to walk away from Oliver. It didn’t help to hear the click of his boots behind him as they walked through the diner. Oliver paused long enough to lock the door and flip the sign over to “closed.” Garrett asked Billy if he could lock the truck. Billy did it for him. He and Oliver stood in front of each other for several long 110

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

moments, not speaking. Billy returned and opened the car door for him. “I’m sorry, Oliver. I don’t know what else to say.” Oliver held the door. “Go on. I’ll be right behind you.” He climbed into the unmarked cruiser, and Oliver pushed the door shut. Billy slid behind the steering wheel and started the engine. “Try not to worry, Garrett. For what it’s worth, I trust Oliver. He said you aren’t involved. Just give your statement, truthfully, and you shouldn’t have any problems.” He had a lot of problems ahead. Shaun wouldn’t stop until he’d dragged him down with him. “I watch too many cop television shows to believe that, Billy.” “Have it your way.” Billy glanced at him. “Look, Garrett. Just tell me your version of it.” “I have no version of it. Oliver warned me not to stop in, that you all expected trouble. Well, you were right.” Billy sighed. “You need to trust me. I’ve been around you and I don’t think you’re a bad sort. Now tell me everything you don’t want me to know.” Garrett realized that the longer he kept silent, the guiltier he looked. Better to choose the lesser of two evils and tell Billy the facts. “I met Shaun about five years ago, and it was your typical gay hook-up. You know about those, Billy?” “Fuck, no. Go on.” “We were attracted to one another and we ended up living together for a couple years. Things went south. He lied to me. He stole money from me by using my credit cards to the tune of twenty-two thousand dollars. Yada, yada. You’ve heard the story 111

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

before.” “And then what?” “I kicked him out a couple of years ago. We parted company. A few days ago, he showed up after work and handed me a check for two thousand dollars. Partial repayment. I took it and put it in the bank. It didn’t bounce.” “For what it’s worth, I would’ve taken the money, too.” “Last night, I stopped at the diner and when I went to leave, Shaun was in the parking lot. Oliver saw him. I stopped at the diner tonight and Oliver warned me to drive by on the return trip. I saw Shaun’s car. I didn’t listen. The rest you know.” “The whole story, you swear?” “Yep. In a nutshell.” “Garrett, can you pass a piss test tonight?” “Yep. I don’t do drugs.” Garrett crossed his arms over his chest and hugged himself. He was finished talking for a while, whether Billy liked it or not. He had to find a way to smooth things over with Oliver. It was the only thing that really mattered. *

*

*

Garrett walked down the long hallway to the reception area, where Oliver waited. The investigators had questioned him for about an hour, then made him pee in a bottle. After that, he’d waited alone until Billy came in and told him Shaun had been formally charged. Then Billy told him his lab report proved he had no drugs in his system. Hearing the report came back clean was a relief. He’d been in a cold sweat, imagining all sorts of scenarios where they botched the 112

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

test and arrested him. He had to stop watching all those crime dramas on television. He was presented with a written copy of his statement, which he signed after reading every line. Billy made him a photocopy of the document and told him he was free to go. Oliver stood as he walked into the dimly lit room. “Will you take me to get my car, Oliver? They sent someone to the diner to get the truck.” Oliver hesitated, then reached for his hand. Grateful for the contact, Garrett laced his fingers though Oliver’s. “Is everything okay?” Oliver asked. His low voice sounded strange within the concrete walls of the small room. “They believe me, so yeah. Billy said they can’t charge me with stupidity.” “That’s probably a good thing. Where’s your car?” “At the Owensville depot. I’ll give you directions. Can we just go?” Oliver slipped his hand around Garrett’s waist and pulled him against him. “Come here first.” Garrett gave in to the exhaustion dragging at him. He let go of Oliver’s hand and wrapped his arms around the man’s neck, committing to memory the feel of Oliver’s chest pressing against his. Oliver stroked the back of his head. “I acted like a shit. I’m sorry, Garrett.” He held Oliver tighter. “It’s okay. It’s my fault. I should’ve listened.” “Say the word and we’ll forget who’s sorry over what, and be grateful no one was hurt.” “Word.” Oliver laughed softly in his ear as Garrett relaxed against him. 113

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

“I do like it that you don’t talk much.” “Funny. Ha-ha, Oliver. Can we please go? I sweated so much in there I stink.” “Nah, you smell all manly.” Oliver rubbed his back, then steered him through the door and out into the cool night air. The drive to the Owensville depot was accomplished without much conversation. Garrett watched the mile markers click past, wondering at each one if he should invite Oliver to spend the night. He didn’t come to a decision until they reached the depot. “It’s a long drive back to the diner. Why don’t you come to my place and spend the night?” Oliver sat quietly for a few moments. Garrett was on the verge of telling him to forget that he’d asked when Oliver agreed. “I need to call Murphy again and let him know I’m not going back to the diner tonight. I want him to go home instead of waiting for me.” Garrett couldn’t wait any longer for Oliver to make the first move. He leaned over and kissed him. Oliver’s lips opened slightly as he met Garrett in the softly clinging kiss. Oliver was the first to pull away. “Will that hold you for a few minutes, young man?” He smiled for what seemed like the first time in his life. “I think so. Follow me.” Garrett climbed out of Oliver’s car and into his own. It didn’t take long to drive across town this late at night. All the way, Oliver’s headlights gleamed in his rearview mirror, two bright beacons illuminating his mistakes. Yeah, he’d acted on impulse and the situation could have ended very differently. But it was over. No one had been injured. Garrett licked his lips, searching for the traces of Oliver’s kiss. 114

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

Oliver had been mightily upset with him, and who could blame him? The kiss said he was over it, and Garrett prayed he really was. The man had agreed to come home with him for the night. Would he have done that if he remained angry? “Jesus, you’re an idiot, Webb. One big fucking idiot. He asked you to do one simple thing, and you couldn’t do it. Fucking Shaun had a gun pointed at him and you walk in. He had to think he was going to die right then and there. Hell, you thought you were gonna die!” He brushed his knuckles over his eyes. “Okay. Stop talking out loud to yourself and get over it. Move on. Be the adult. You almost fucked it up, but it worked out, so move the fuck on.” He flipped on his right turn signal and checked the rearview mirror. Oliver made the turn behind him. Garrett blew out a deep breath, pulled into his parking space, hopped out of his car and motioned Oliver into the second spot reserved for his apartment. Oliver climbed from his vehicle and locked the door. “Nice building.” Oliver held his hand out to him, then folded his arms around him when Garrett reached for him. “Can I just lean on you for a minute?” “Sure, kiddo. We can prop each other up until we’ve gathered enough strength to go inside.” Garrett hugged him. “It’s not quite that bad. C’mon.” Once inside his apartment, he motioned around the space. “Bedroom. Bathroom. Kitchen.” Oliver nodded. “Nice and simple. You like it here?” “It’s great for a single guy. It was a little crowded when Shaun was here.” Garrett opened the refrigerator and handed Oliver a bottle of water. “Sorry I don’t have anything stronger.” 115

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

“This is good. Thanks.” He popped the cap and took a few swallows. “I gave up drinking after my accident, but if there was ever a time to indulge in a shot of bourbon, it’s tonight.” Garrett downed some water and nodded. “It’d help both of us sleep. I’m still shaking, Oliver. Let’s get a shower and go to bed.” Oliver finished his water and kicked off his shoes as he set the empty bottle aside. “Good idea.” Garrett led him into the small bathroom, peeling off his shirt as he went. Oliver stopped outside the door and finished stripping, draping his jeans and shirt over the back of the sofa. Garrett opened the taps and got the hot water flowing. They showered in silence, except for murmured thanks as they took turns washing each other’s back. Garrett’s knees threatened to buckle with delayed reaction. What the hell had possessed him to take the gun from Shaun’s hand? How stupid could one man be? He eased out of the shower to give Oliver a few moments to enjoy the spray. He dried off, then handed a fresh towel to his guest as he stepped out of the tub. Oliver looked tired, his eyes shadowed with dark smudges. He flipped his damp towel over the shower rod and ushered Garrett into the bedroom. The sheets were soft and cool as Garret slipped between them. He and Oliver settled together in the middle of the bed, finding the way their bodies fit together for sleep. Garrett buried his face against Oliver’s dewy neck. Beneath the lingering smell of fresh soap was the scent of a man. He had to know one thing before he took another breath. “Oliver, did tonight screw up beyond repair what’s going on between us?”

116

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

CHAPTER 15 Oliver held the gift in his arms tighter. He’d never expected to have someone as special as Garrett simply walk through his door and say hello. That only happened in the movies. But unlike the solutions of Hollywood, a real relationship based on trust and friendship didn’t happen in ninety minutes. He was a lot older than Garrett and his life experiences had aged him beyond his years. Garrett had teased him, called him “Daddy.” He couldn’t deny he had some of those protective urges toward Garrett. And then there were the long miles of blacktop between where he lived and worked and where Garrett did the same. He had good reasons why he should gently let the young man go. He couldn’t do it. 117

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

What had sparked between them was too precious, too rare, to deny. They had connected, man to man, in a unique awareness of each other. The stranger in his arms knew him, trusted him. They’d stood in the diner and known with only a glance what the other would do. That they would never be strangers again had nothing to do with the intimacies granted to the other. He found Garrett’s mouth and kissed him, tasting the unsettled desperation in the younger man. Garrett tore his lips away. “Oliver, I almost got you killed.” “I think you probably saved my life.” Oliver kissed him again, rolling Garrett beneath him. Against his thigh, Garrett’s body responded. Oliver sucked in a deep breath as his dick swelled, echoing the rapid hardening pressed to his leg. He kissed his way down Garrett’s neck to his nipples, suckling at each. Garrett cupped his head to hold him there, sighing with each breath. The flat discs puckered into tiny nubs under his ministrations. Goose bumps rose under his fingertips as he stroked Garrett’s stomach. He slid sideways, off Garrett. They needed to talk more than they need to fuck. “Garrett, I can give you reason after reason why we shouldn’t pursue this, but I think you already know them. I gotta be honest with you—the one big stumbling block for me is the age difference.” “I didn’t mean it when I called you ‘Daddy.’ I was teasing you.” Garrett levered up on his elbow. “I like you being older and kinda settled. It’s… Oh, crap, Oliver, don’t make me say something that’s going to fall out of my mouth sounding like an insult. The age thing doesn’t bother me at all.” “I can’t… Garrett, don’t you want some young man who can pledge undying love to you?” 118

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

The weak light spilling through the window silvered Garrett’s serious face. “Is that what you want? Undying love?” “No. Maybe. Someday.” Garrett pressed his lips together. “Confused about it?” No, he wasn’t confused about it. He knew exactly where he was coming from and what his needs were. He also knew only complete honesty would work with Garrett. “What I sense could happen between you and me hasn’t yet.” Garrett rested his forehead against his. He had to strain to hear his whisper. “I know, Oliver, but here’s the thing. I’ve got all this…this…hope inside me.” Oliver’s heart fluttered, stealing his breath as the sensation of wings beating the inside of his throat rendered him momentarily speechless. Hope. He knew all about hope. It was alive inside him, too, awakened when Garrett had walked out of the fog and into the diner. Of all the mixed blessings known to man, hope was the most potent. Oliver cleared his throat. “It’s a little scary, huh?” “So was seeing that fucking gun pointed at you.” He pulled Garrett down over him. “You reaching for that gun was the bravest thing I’ve ever witnessed. And if you ever do something so extremely foolish again, I’ll let Murf spank you. You won’t like it.” Garrett made a choked sound and went limp. The tension bled out of Oliver as he realized Garrett was laughing. He ran his hands over his lover’s back. “I gave up on hope after the accident because it hurt too much. Now more than anything, I hope to have time with you.” “Promises end, Oliver. They get broken. Don’t make any to me you can’t keep, and I’ll do the same.” 119

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

“The only one I can make now is to be honest with you. Beyond that, too many things are out of a man’s control, aren’t they?” “That works for me, too.” Oliver spread his legs as Garrett stretched out on top of him, his cock lengthening again as Garrett flexed his pelvis to his. He grasped Garrett’s hips and pressed upward. Garrett rocked into him again. “Belly rub?” Oliver ran his fingertips along Garrett’s crack. “Not if I can get better.” Garrett’s mouth covered his, his tongue searching, licking. Oliver opened his lips and flicked his tongue to Garrett’s. The kiss deepened, drawing him into the private world that beckoned for him and Garrett. His erection completed in a heady rush. Inside, he ached for a touch only Garrett could give. Giving up his lover’s lips was like pulling apart two magnets. “Fuck me.” Garrett drew a panting breath. “You’re kidding me, right?” Oliver wrapped his legs around Garrett’s waist. “Nope.” “Let me go.” Garrett smacked the back of his raised thigh. “I gotta get up.” “Oh, no. You are not running off.” “Oliver! Condoms. Bathroom.” Garrett humped him rapidly a few times, then rolled away as Oliver released him. “Boy, you’re in an awful hurry all of a sudden,” he called at Garrett’s lovely retreating backside. Garrett returned in seconds, a box of condoms and a bottle of lube in one hand, his stiff cock in the other. Oliver shivered, anticipating the white-hot pleasure ahead. His balls tingled as his 120

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

dick surged, swelling harder. Garrett flopped on the bed beside him and spilled the contents of the box on the bed, flipped the box into the darkness of the room, and shoved the supplies beneath his pillow. Oliver pinned him to the bed. “Be still.” He curled around and slid his lips over Garrett’s beautiful hardon, reveling in the way he moaned. His butt lifted in encouragement. Oliver swirled his tongue around the sensitive rim and the flat mushroom of the head. He lapped up the salty drop Garrett’s body gave up for him, then kissed his way up to Garrett’s lips. He wanted the young man rock hard to fuck him, and he was. When he settled on his belly, Garrett gently coaxed him to roll over. “I want to see your face, Oliver.” He didn’t argue—he couldn’t—as Garrett rolled back his foreskin and licked his glans with a wet, hot tongue. Oliver reached for the foil packet and ripped it open. Garrett knelt over him and he rolled the condom over Garrett’s stiff rod. Garrett murmured a request, but instead of handing him the lube, Oliver squirted a generous portion into his belly button and set the bottle aside. Garrett stroked the inside of his thighs. “Lift your legs.” Oliver complied, drawing his knees in to his chest and bracing his feet on Garrett’s shoulders. His flesh puckered as Garrett spread the cool gel over it, then quickly relaxed as he massaged the tight ring of muscle. “I don’t do this often, so don’t hurry.” His body clenched eagerly as Garrett slipped a slick finger into him. “I think you might have to get used to doing it more.” A second finger eased inside. 121

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

“I’m good with…” Oliver sucked in a quick breath as arousal jolted through him, lifting him higher. Garrett eased his legs over his shoulders. The large, blunt tip of his cock pressed to the tender orifice, and Oliver’s body gave up the first burning inch to his lover. He let out a breath and relaxed into the stretch. Inch by careful inch, Garrett slid into him until he was finally seated. He dipped his fingers into the lube and stroked his dick. Buried deep within him, Garrett remained motionless. Oliver tightened his internal muscles around his invasion, silently coaxing him to move. He did. Garrett flexed his body to his, increasing the pressure, then slowly withdrew only to push back in. The heat in Oliver’s groin expanded. He jerked as pleasure raced up his spine. Garrett shifted his angle, and Oliver’s world went white. He hung there, suspended, burning from the inside out as Garrett fucked him. Time ceased as the sensations swamped him, then suddenly coalesced into one aching spot that held him captive. He opened all his senses to it, embracing it so he could set it free and fly with it. With an explosive breath, it burst loose to drag him down into a heated, sparkling darkness. Oliver dropped back into himself, suddenly aware of Garrett straining above him, holding back. He grasped his lover’s arms. “Now, Garrett.” Garrett thrust into him once, then again. He stiffened, a low groan on his lips. He made a sharp sound as his fingers dug into Oliver’s thighs, then his weight came forward, his hands on Oliver’s chest. The pressure of penetration became uncomfortable, and Oliver urged him to withdrawal. Garrett grasped the base of his penis and 122

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

slowly pulled out. Oliver jumped as the head cleared. They both found enough breath to laugh a bit at his reaction. “Let me take care of the condom. Do you want to rinse off?” Garrett eased off the bed. Oliver groaned as he stretched out his legs. “What makes you think I can stand, much less walk to the bathroom?” “Whine, whine.” He leaned over and kissed Oliver. “Come on, old man.” Oliver watched him walk into the bathroom. He’d give Garrett a moment to tidy up, then he’d take his turn at the sink. He glanced out the window. The sky had lightened. He needed to call Murf and ask for another favor. Gone were the days he could stay up for twenty-four hours straight and still function like a normal human being. He retrieved his cell phone from his jeans. When Murf answered, he told Oliver to get some rest. He, Shirl and the rest of the crew would take care of everything. Garrett called to him it was his turn in the bathroom. When he finished and rejoined his lover in the bed, Garrett was on his cell phone. He smiled drowsily at Oliver. “I’m taking the next few days off. I left a message for my supervisor. Said I witnessed a robbery and didn’t get any sleep. I’ve got the leave time coming to me. This seems like the time to use some of it.” Oliver nodded. “Good idea. Maybe I’ll take off some extra time, too. Put your head on my shoulder so I can go to sleep.” Garrett settled in beside him. It just felt right to be with him like this. “Oliver? Are we good?” Good? Yeah, he was more than good. The dull, aching 123

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

loneliness of his life faded. The unrelenting dark shadows he’d lived with for so long were banished by the pure light of this new companion. His self-imposed penance was paid, leaving him debtfree of his past. He wrapped his arms around Garrett and his future. “We’re great, lover.”

124

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

CHAPTER 16 Three months later… “Garrett’s late tonight.” Oliver held his mug out for Murf to refill it. “No, not really. He’s interviewing a woman who answered his ad for an office manager.” “You know, a few months ago, if you’d told me you were fronting the money so some fellow you just met could start a business, I might’ve had you committed to some fine institution.” Oliver snorted. “I might’ve driven myself through the front gates and saved you the trouble.” He sipped his coffee. “It’s not that much money, Murf.” “He’s taken on three guys in the last month. Now he wants an 125

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

office manager? He doesn’t even have an office. Who’s gonna pay the rent for that?” “F1 Tech needs someone to coordinate everything. When he finds the right person, we’ll set them up an office in their home.” Murf leaned his hip against the counter. “Well, I do give him a lot of credit, you know. He sure had it all planned out.” Oliver lifted his coffee cup and tapped it to Murf’s. “Yes, he did. That’s why, after I pried the information out of him, I told him I’d loan him the money.” He glanced at the clock. Where was his lover? It was Friday, and the weekend beckoned. Two precious nights and days to be together until Monday rolled around and Garrett’s hectic schedule intruded. No one could say his young man wasn’t a hard worker. Garrett worked his day job, drove the truck three nights a week, and had managed to get his fledging company off to a flying start. People might be able to say he was getting lazy, though. He hadn’t worked a weekend in three months, and he liked it. Of course, he made up for it during the week. His cell phone vibrated across the counter. Oliver reached for it, only to have Murf snatch it up first. “Will ya look at that? A text message that says, ‘Get naked.’ I guess we don’t need to check your contact list to discover the sender, do we?” Murf leaned closer. “I’m not going to walk in on you two in the men’s room again, am I?” “One time. Just one time we forgot to lock the door to the staff restroom, and I’ll never live it down.” Oliver swigged the last of his coffee and took his phone away from his friend. “I’m going back to the house. See ya later, Murphy.” “Yep. ’Night.” Murf gathered the dirty coffee mugs and headed for the kitchen. From his favorite barstool at the end of the counter, 126

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

Oliver looked at the crowd seated in The Downshift Diner. The night of the attempted robbery seemed far away in the distant past. The ensuing litigation had been swift, and he and Garret had put it behind them to concentrate on a shared future. Business at the diner hadn’t suffered, and the commotion had ended the drug traffic. He was sorry the state police hadn’t been able to make an arrest, but the bottom line, for him and the diner, was the same. He walked back to the house and sat on the new glider to wait for Garrett. They spoke of altering their living arrangements, of Garrett moving in with him, but it hadn’t happened yet. They liked their highway nights. Oliver stretched his arm along the back of the wide seat. The nights Garrett drove brought a lively excitement to their relationship. His lover constantly varied the routine. Some nights he drove past on his way to Mount Franklin and Oliver’s pulse quickened, knowing the return trip meant two or three hours together. Other times, Garrett stopped for a quickie going each way. Oliver enjoyed all of it. But lately he had the sense of Garrett approaching a decision. Several times he’d stayed all night and then driven directly to his day job in Owensville. It was a long commute, but lots of folks drove the distance every day, twice a day. Oliver remained silent. Garrett was his own man and he’d make his decisions in the time that was right for him. The waiting wasn’t easy, though, just like tonight. He checked the time again. A flash of sunlight on chrome caught his attention. Finally! Garrett pulled his car in beside Oliver’s in the driveway and ran up the steps, grinning. He flopped onto the glider next to him and leaned over, eager for a kiss. Oliver obliged, kissing him until 127

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

Garrett smiled against his lips. “So, do you have an office manager?” “Yep. Nice lady. I thought she’d pass out when I told her she could work from home.” He looked Oliver up and down. “You’re not naked.” “Blame Murf. I’m ready to go inside any time you are.” Garrett took a deep breath. His bright blue eyes gleamed. “Let’s talk.” Oliver froze. Was he about to announce what Oliver hoped he was? He took Garrett’s hand and pressed it to his zipper. “I can wait.” Garrett searched until he found the soft bump of Oliver’s penis, then rubbed the spot. “Yeah, that’s going nowhere fast, but neither is mine. You don’t think the magic is over, do you?” “Not by a long shot, no pun intended. So talk.” He wrapped his fingers around Garrett’s to stop his playing. They had all night to make love. “If the offer of closet space is still open, I’d like to move in.” Oliver hugged him. “What about the trucking company?” “I stopped by and gave them my notice today. I’m off the schedule. I have to concentrate more on F1 Tech—and you.” “Moving in with me is a big step. I told you earlier, I want you here, but not until you’re ready. I want you to be sure.” “We’re a couple, Oliver. I don’t want to sleep alone four or five nights a week anymore.” He planted his foot and made the glider sway back and forth. “Neither do I, darling.” Garrett rested his hand on Oliver’s thigh. “Well, crap, Ollie, you’re not going to get all sentimental and tell me you love me, are you? Because you know I’m not gonna say it to you.” 128

HIGHWAY NIGHTS

Oliver smiled, matching the grin on Garrett’s face. No, they weren’t going to go that far. They didn’t need to.

129

KC KENDRICKS

KC Kendricks makes her home in Maryland with her partner of twenty years. Living in a rural area, KC enjoys most outdoor activities except those that require snow. In warm weather KC might be found walking the dog, biking on the C&O Canal towpath, planting delicacies for the deer, playing in the creek with the youngest generation of her cousins, or lazing on the patio with a Kindle reader or a laptop. An administrative assistant by day, and best-selling author by night, Kendricks’ is a 2008 Amber Heat Wave Winner. Her work has also been nominated for a CAPA from The Romance Studio, the Elisa Rolle LGBT Rainbow Award, and Best GLBT Story at Love Romance Café. Her contemporary gay romances celebrate love and hope for mature readers. For more information about KC, please visit her website at http://www.kckendricks.com, and her personal blog, Between the Keys, at http://kckendricks.blogspot.com. *

*

*

Don’t miss Open Roads by KC Kendricks, available at AmberAllure.com! Tyler Phillips enjoys his small-town life. He’ll never get rich working the family business, but he knows there’s more to a man than the size of his bank account. Easing into mid-life, Tyler’s restless for something he can’t find in the little borough of Easton—male companionship. Noel Springs got caught up in the economic downturn. With his job gone, and retirement many years in the future, Noel decides to take a long drive and see some of the country before dedicating himself to finding new employment. The open road is just what he needs. But when Noel's car overheats outside the little town of Easton, he discovers the local mechanic is far hotter than his radiator, and just as eager to blow off some steam…

AMBER QUILL PRESS, LLC THE GOLD STANDARD IN PUBLISHING QUALITY BOOKS IN BOTH PRINT AND ELECTRONIC FORMATS

ACTION/ADVENTURE SCIENCE FICTION

SUSPENSE/THRILLER DARK FANTASY

MAINSTREAM

ROMANCE

HORROR

EROTICA

FANTASY

GLBT

WESTERN

MYSTERY

PARANORMAL

HISTORICAL

B UY D IRECT AND S AVE www.AmberQuill.com www.AmberHeat.com www.AmberAllure.com