Page 86 of The Boy from Half Moon

I was sexually frustrated. Luke was embarrassed and sat frozen on the bench, his eyes wide and pleading with me.

“He can’t wear skinny jeans,” I said, handing the jeans over the door. “Please get him relaxed fit with the same waist size. Longer on the inseam,” I added, my back to the door as I leaned against it, gawking at Luke’s naked body with desire.

I watched as Luke stood, his cock exposed when he moved the boxers to put them on. He was still fully erect even though we’d been interrupted. My confusion with how immodest he was behaving kept me from coming up with a believable reason for him to remain nude.

Whatever the exciting moment we’d shared was, it had passed far too speedily for my taste. He was going to kiss me before we were so rudely interrupted. What that could’ve led to was still rolling around in my overstimulated brain.

“I’ll wait outside,” I said. “Maybe I should check to see if he needs me to help pick out jeans.”

“Can you please stay here with me?” Luke reached for my hand, sliding his into mine. “I’ve never done this before. I want to make sure I choose the right clothes. You know, stuff you’d like me to wear,” he added.

Suddenly, I felt guilty about suggesting Luke have a new wardrobe. Had I insisted? Was his looking ‘normal’ something I needed, or did I truly think he’d be more hirable if he looked like the rest of us in what he called the outside world?

“You don’t have to do this, Luke,” I quietly offered. “If you don’t feel right about it, maybe we should pass on this idea.”

“I want you to be proud of me when we go places,” he said. “But to be honest, skinny jeans aren’t me, Tate.”

I squeezed his hand. “I know that, Luke, and I’m sorry for allowing a stranger to pick out your clothes. Also, just so we’re clear on this. I am proud of you, and how you dress could never change that.”

“Can we get some regular jeans? Maybe plain T-shirts?” he asked. “I really like how you look, Tate. Always so stylish and stuff, but I’m not that man.”

I opened my arms wide. “Come here.” Luke stepped forward, now in his boxers, and I wrapped my arms around his neck while he rested his chin on my shoulder. “You’re the perfect man, Luke. Don’t let me, or any other person you encounter in your life, ever change that.”

Luke’s hands went to the small of my back and he pulled me closer. The sexual tension of minutes earlier was gone. We stood quietly in the middle of a very small room, gently swaying together as we embraced. I felt safe.

I hoped Luke did, too.

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX: Luke

“How do you pronounce the name?” I asked, raising my new tennis shoes from the hotel floor and moving my foot from side to side. “I don’t even play tennis,” I added, unsure if that was a requirement now.

“Ni-keee,” Tate said, speaking slowly, emphasizing the last letter. “Not like the name Mike but say Nik-eeee. Make the E sound at the end,” he added.

I stood from the couch, looking down at the type of shoes I’d never worn before. My new Levi jeans were snug but comfortable, and a T-shirt in plain white, matching the shoes, finished my look.

“What do you think?”

“I think you look like an All-American boy,” he stated, joining me near the couch. Tate pulled up on my T-shirt, yanking it from being tucked into my new jeans. “How about like this?” he suggested. “You look casual now.”

I yanked the shirt up, exposing my stomach so I could see my new belt. A belt that looked stylish, like Tate, and actually fit me with only two or three inches of extra leather after the last punched-out hole.

“Holy smokes!” Tate gasped. “Your abs are insane!” He ran his hand over them. “Damn, boy. You are amazingly fit, Luke.” His hand felt good against my skin, and I wanted him to continue touching me, but I figured he felt self-conscious when he moved his hand away. “Just doing farm work did all that?” he asked, crossing his arms.

“I guess so,” I replied. “Do you really think I look okay?”

“I think you look amazing, Luke. How do you think you look?” he asked.

“I’ll feel better now when we do stuff,” I stated. “We’ll look good together too, don’t you think?”

Tate smiled, but I got a feeling he wasn’t as happy as I felt. I wondered if it was because I told him at the rest stop that I couldn’t court him any longer. What I’d meant, but didn’t explain well, was that when I hadn’t contacted him for three weeks, was because I’d decided I needed to stay on the ranch and forget about him to protect my family. That wasn’t true now.

“You look terrific with or without me, Luke,” he said. “What would you like to do for the rest of the day? Remember, we have Portland at our disposal.”

“We’re not going home right away?” I asked.

“No, silly,” he said, uncrossing his arms and stepping forward. Tate ran his fingers along the neckline of my T-shirt. “Too tight?” he asked. I shook my head no. “We’re staying overnight in this room. That’s why I got us a hotel room.”

“I like that idea,” I responded, looking around the beautiful room, realizing there was only one bed. Another thing I liked.

---