Page 46 of The Boy from Half Moon

I hurried over to the large window that opened to the shop where the furniture was designed and built. “A customer called in,” I lied. “He said the doors aren’t working properly on that large cabinet we delivered last Saturday.”

Jed’s brow furrowed for a moment until he remembered the customer. “The customer in Old Town?” he asked. “He also bought the long table, right?”

I nodded, trying to act as normal as possible. Lying was not natural for me, and I was certain he could read me like a book. “Yes. Probably just needs adjusting again,” I said, looking away and acting casual. “Maybe I should go check it out on the way out of town,” I suggested.

“Sounds good, Luke. Be sure to apologize for any issues he has.”

“I’m taking the red truck,” I said, still wondering if my story could be this easily accepted. “Just wanted you to know. You and Josiah okay with the other truck?”

Jed gave me a thumbs up and went back to sanding a table. Josiah hadn’t bothered looking up the entire conversation. The untruths were so simple and no one seemed the wiser. Why then did I feel so awful for lying to my brothers?

* * *

Panic raced through me after ringing the buzzer. Being here could be a problem. I turned my back to the camera and stared at the traffic as it zipped by. What if a member drove by and noticed me outside a stranger’s building at six at night? Would they believe my story about an appointment I’d lied about back at the store?

I was forced to buzz again, almost chickening out and leaving. This time, I nervously stared into the camera. “Be home. Be home,” I mumbled. My foot tapped fretfully on the concrete stoop. “Come on. Come on.”

“Hey.” I’d forgotten he could see me.

“It’s just me.”

There was a moment of silence. “Luke? Is everything okay?”

“Can I come up?” I asked. “Unless you’re busy, you know, and stuff. Or maybe some other time,” I babbled. “You’re busy, right?”

The door buzzed. “It’s open,” he said. “I’m in forty-one.”

I took a quick glance at the street and down the sidewalk before entering. What I was doing was beyond forbidden. We were not allowed to be in outsider’s homes unless it was specifically for business-related matters while accompanied by another member. My business reason was a lie, but I couldn’t help myself.

“Hey, you,” Tate said, opening his door. “I’m surprised to see you.”

“Is it okay that I stopped by?”

“Of course. Come on in.”

Tate wore gym shorts and a tank top. He’d be considered indecent at the ranch, but I couldn’t keep my eyes off him. Whenever he turned or looked away, I explored his bare skin. Circuits were firing from my brain to my toes, and every spot in between, at seeing him in such a state of undress.

His legs were athletic, like a runner’s legs I’d seen in a magazine one time. They were smooth, yet manly. The tank top fit him like a bridle on a horse’s neck. Tight. I hadn’t imagined he’d have muscular arms like mine. His biceps were smaller than mine, but he looked like he could’ve labored in the fields. But I’d seen his hands up close. They were soft. This handsome man did not work hard labor.

“Thank you, Tate. You know, for letting me come in.”

“You’re always welcome.” He headed for the kitchen. “Would you like something to drink? A Coke? Some coffee?” he asked.

“I don’t drink caffeine, remember?” I replied.

He smiled and pointed at me, snapping his fingers. “Yes. Yes, I remember. The bakery. I came in looking for coffee.”

“You looked so handsome,” I stated. “I’d never wished we sold coffee more than that day.”

Tate leaned back against the kitchen counter, crossing his arms and studying me. “You really are this nice, Luke, aren’t you?”

I didn’t have an answer for his kind words, so I just smiled and stared at him. He lifted his arms over his head and yawned, stretching toward the ceiling. I wanted to faint at the sight of his naked stomach. His stomach was flat and had muscles I hadn’t expected to see. I could tell his skin was soft from across the room and I so desperately wanted to feel him.

“Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?” I asked.

His mouth tightened as my words seemed to hit him wrong. He appeared sad at my compliment. “Why did you come here, Luke?” he whispered, burying his hands in the pockets of his gym shorts.

Good question. “I’m not exactly sure. I guess my mind just can’t stop thinking about you,” I began. “I’m not gonna lie. I’ve tried to shut it off, Tate. I have, really I have.”

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