Page 35 of Touch of Innocence
SIXTEEN
“He’s out, and he’s looking for you.”
Those were the first words that Joey spoke to him. Joey, an old friend of his, who had been through a lot of the same things that Gunner had. Joey, who could be trusted, if anyone could.
“Does he know where I am?” Gunner replied, and the answer made him feel like he had had a pitcher full of ice water dumped right over his head, icy tendrils extending down his spine.
“He knows you’re in Texas. He followed you that far. Don’t tell me where you are, man. If he comes to talk to me, I don’t want to know anything.”
And that was the gist of the conversation. His angry ex-boyfriend was after him, and all of the safety that Gunner had been counting on went up in smoke, just like that. The safety not only for himself but for Sam and his family.
For Ruby, who was just a child. For anyone who would have their lives ruined, just because Gunner had touched it. He really did just break everything he ever touched, didn’t he?
There wasn’t much point in talking past that point. Gunner let the call end, and then the strength seemed to flow right out of his legs and into the floor as he fell down onto it. His eyes squeezed closed, and though he hated himself for it, he at least took comfort from the fact that no one was there to see his weakness.
At that moment, he lost everything. All because of a relationship that had been over for years, and it made all of his hopes and dreams go up into smoke. It wasn’t fair. None of it was fair.
Of course, he had done quite enough all on his own to destroy everything he was building here. He knew that Sam thought that he didn’t care, but he did. Mike was the first person who had given him a chance, and Gunner had repaid him by ruining his pride and joy.
With a groan, Gunner rubbed at his eyes, which were stinging painfully, prickling with moisture. He was just tired—he tried to assure himself. It had been a long night, and he really needed to pick himself up off of the ground and walk into the other room to face the music.
Sam. God, how was he going to deal with Sam? Someday soon, Gunner was going to have to leave town—he knew that. He couldn’t hide from his problems, so he was going to have to keep running. Until he got to Austin, and then …
And then there would be the same problems as ever. And then, he would work for Joey’s buddy in his bar as long as he could stand, save up some dough, and take off. That had always been the plan, right?
Only he’d asked to stay, and Sam had said that he wanted him to. And there were thousands of small towns in Texas, and Gunner knew that his ex would go to the big cities, first. Gunner was like a needle in a haystack, right?
It was possible that it wasn’t as hopeless as it seemed. Assuming, of course, that Sam still wanted anything to do with him. Still, the thought was enough to have him rising to his feet, straightening out his clothing and setting his shoulders, and before he could think about it too much, he was in the other room and heading toward Sam.
“Who was that on the phone?” Sam asked, and Gunner felt like his stomach had been clenched by a steely cold hand, freezing him right in the very core of his being.
That was not a question that he could answer. Not if he wanted to have any chance at all of keeping this thing with Sam going, and as it turned out, he found that he did. All he had to do to lose everything was to tell Sam the complete, full truth. Sam would walk away in a second if he did that.
“No one important,” Gunner said, keeping his tone as offhanded as he could. It was no big deal—he tried to convince himself. Just an old friend, giving him some information that he needed. If he believed it, then maybe he could make Sam believe it, too.
“Gunner…” Sam started, and Gunner frowned a little bit. He didn’t like the sound of that. It was deeply ominous, the way that Sam said his name, and he was abruptly reminded that Sam was, for all of his selfishness and his immaturity, very astute and intelligent and it was damned inconvenient sometimes how perceptive he was.
So he did the only thing he could think of to do. The only thing that he thought might distract Sam, as young and inexperienced as he was. He kissed Sam, letting all of his worry, his fear, his anger, and, yes, all of his very real desire for Sam into that kiss, letting it be rough and forceful like he could kiss away every doubt that they both had.
It was like every time they were together, it was a little bit different. Or a lot different. This kiss was the complete opposite of how their kisses had been just a few hours ago in Mike’s Jag when Sam had given himself to Gunner.
There was still heat, and passion, and there always had been, even when they’d both been trying to deny that they even wanted each other. There probably always would be. The sexual desire, the sheer chemistry, between them was undeniable.
As Gunner dragged Sam off to the car, he saw how willing Sam was and observed how all of the questions had apparently completely left Sam’s mind, and he sort of wished, just for a split second, that things were different. That he could tell Sam the whole story, everything that had happened to him, and that he wouldn’t have to be making these getaway plans secretly, just in case.
But if Sam ever found out the whole truth, anything between them would be over. Maybe that would be for the best, for everyone concerned, but Gunner found that he was stubbornly, selfishly unwilling to give this up.
As Sam drove him home, back to Gunner’s bed, Gunner watched the younger man and tried to come to grips with the thought that he could just never see him again. Tried, and utterly failed. Even though they had known each other such a short time, Sam had somehow managed to do what no one else had done, not for years. Maybe never.
Without even apparently trying, Sam had wormed his way right into Gunner’s heart. All of the walls that he had carefully built up ever since he’d finally broken free of his ex, ever since he’d let go of his family, they were all tumbling down and Sam had hardly done so much as to brush against them.
It was almost funny, in a terrible way. Someone that Gunner didn’t care about as much, he could have told everything, because he wouldn’t have so much to lose by doing it. But it was sort of ironic that a person that Gunner didn’t care about as much as he cared about Sam, he never would have been tempted to tell anything to.
Sam already knew more about Gunner than he wanted. But he kept pushing, he kept wanting more, and Gunner couldn’t give it to him.
So, once they were out of the car, Gunner devoted himself as fully as he could to pushing that right out of the other man’s mind. Their kisses burned in the cool night as Gunner tugged Sam toward the converted barn that was his home.
Or should he say that had been his home, for a little while? But he shouldn’t get too attached.
