Page 16 of The Finding Series: Vol. 1

“He has a right to know,” Rhys responded.

Callan sighed, then looked out the window at the property. God, the place was falling apart. Everywhere he looked he saw something that needed attention and he suddenly felt overwhelmed by it all. He was fighting a losing battle and he knew it and there was absolutely no way out.

“I’m so tired, Rhys,” he admitted as he felt the sting of tears. “So fucking tired.”

* * *

Rhys felt the overwhelming urge to pull Callan against him as he saw all the fight leave the other man’s body. He reached out and skimmed his fingers through the soft hair above Callan’s right ear. His cowboy hat had somehow ended up in the backseat of the truck during their encounter earlier and Rhys realized he’d never seen Callan without it.

Callan actually seemed to press into Rhys’ touch and then he leaned his head back against the seat as Rhys continued to pet him. “Thank you for what you did today for the calf. Sometimes it’s too much, you know?” he said as he turned his eyes on Rhys.

“What is?” Rhys asked gently.

“Fighting. We’ve been doing it for so long that sometimes it’s just easier not to I guess.” Callan closed his eyes again. “If you tell him, you know he’ll never go.”

Rhys dropped his hand from Callan’s hair. Everything in his gut told him it was wrong to be a part of Callan’s lie, but it wasn’t his truth to tell, was it?

“If Finn thinks he has any chance at a life with me, he’ll never move on. He’ll stay here in a town that punishes him because he refuses to be someone he’s not,” Callan reminded him.

“Doeshe have a chance with you?” Rhys held his breath waiting for the answer, not sure why it really mattered and not sure what he wanted that answer to actually be.

Callan didn’t respond and Rhys wasn’t surprised. Whatever secrets this man held, they ran deep. A quick make-out session wasn’t going to get him to magically open up to Rhys.

“I won’t tell him,” Rhys finally said. “But what happened between us can’t happen again. I won’t hurt him,” he declared as he reached for the door handle of the truck. He hesitated, then glanced back at Callan. “Maybe fighting wouldn’t be so hard if you let Finn stand beside you instead of behind you. He’s not a child, Callan. And I think you’d be a fucking fool to let him go.”

ChapterEight

Finn stared at the ceiling above him and tried to quell the knot of anxiety in his gut. The day had sucked from beginning to end and the only brief, bright spot had been when Rhys had kissed him. And then Finn had fucked that up too. Any hope that Rhys might have forgiven him the transgression had disintegrated upon Cal and Rhys’ arrival to help him fix the fence. Both men had kept their distance from him and Rhys had only offered clipped, one word responses when he asked how the calf was doing. He’d hoped that once they got back to the house things might change, but Rhys had fixed himself a sandwich and then disappeared into his room. Finn hadn’t bothered with food since he wasn’t sure he could keep anything down anyway, so he’d climbed into the shower, then crawled into bed. That was three hours ago and he was no closer to falling asleep.

How had he messed things up so badly? He’d only known Rhys for a couple of days but it somehow felt longer. And it shouldn’t matter what went on between him and Rhys going forward because Finn was leaving. Even if he weren’t, Rhys was going back to Chicago as soon as his parole was done. Any relationship he might have with the man would be purely physical and he knew in his gut that it wouldn’t be enough. He’d be in the same position he was in with Cal – wanting someone who didn’t want him back. Pain lanced through him at the prospect and he began to fear that he’d waited too long to walk away.

* * *

Rhys heard his already ajar door being opened and he tensed, though not because he was worried about a stranger coming into his room in the middle of the night. He’d debated locking the door when he’d gone to bed, but even just the thought of being in a completely closed off room had brought back the old anxiety from being locked in his jail cell for 23 hours a day for two years and he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He hadn’t even been able to close the door all the way. Ignoring Finn for the rest of the day was supposed to have been the first step in his plan to distance himself from the two men that were wreaking havoc on his senses, but apparently the other man hadn’t gotten the message. Rhys’ back was to the door so he had to glance over his shoulder to see the slumped form standing next to the bed.

“Finn-” he began, steeling himself to send the man away.

“Please, Rhys,” he heard Finn whisper brokenly. “I just need to sleep,” he said, his voice pleading.

Rhys tried to stiffen his resolve, but an image of Finn smiling at him when he’d picked him up in the truck that first day went through his head. Rhys pulled the covers back and Finn went around to the other side of the bed and crawled in, putting his back to Rhys. It wasn’t a big bed, but Finn pressed himself up along the edge of the mattress, putting as much distance between him and Rhys as he could and Rhys wondered if he did it because that was what he wanted or it was because he thought it was what Rhys wanted.

Rhys let out a soft curse, then reached out his arm and grabbed Finn by the waist and dragged him back against his chest. Finn gasped as Rhys’ thickening cock settled against his ass, the thin fabric of Finn’s pajama bottoms and Rhys’ briefs doing little to inhibit the contact. He felt Finn’s hand close over his own. God, it would be so easy to roll Finn on his back and take him. He knew from the heavy breathing and tight body pressed against his that Finn wanted him just as badly. And if today hadn’t happened then he’d probably already have his dick pressed deep inside the other man as he watched him come apart around him. But seeing firsthand what Finn would suffer through if he stayed in this place had him saying, “Go to sleep, Finn,” instead. Rhys had never claimed to be an honorable man, but he’d be damned if he was going to add himself to the long list of people fucking with Finn’s emotions.

* * *

Rhys tinkered with the manure spreader as the early morning heat burned into his back. It was barely eight o’clock in the morning and he felt like he’d lost half his body weight through his sweat. He’d never understood why Callan and Finn continued to wear long sleeved shirts in the blazing sun, but as his sunburned skin flamed where his T-shirt sleeve grazed the sensitive flesh, he started to realize he was the one on the losing end of that particular argument. The cowboy hat that always seemed like an accessory before was now on the top of his wish list.

He climbed out of the foul-smelling spreader and threw the tools in the ramshackle box that Finn called the toolbox. Heading back to the barn, he saw Finn cleaning the last stall. This had become their routine over the last few days. Callan would be out most of the day riding the fence line and Finn would be taking care of the horses. Rhys had taken it upon himself to start fixing the many things that were broken around the place including repairing siding, patching holes in the roof of the barn, mending the paddock fences, and now fixing the spreader. Neither of them talked to one another throughout the day unless it was absolutely necessary and when the work day ended, Callan would disappear up to the main house to work on the books while Finn wandered off on one of his many walks. Rhys managed to watch the news or an old sitcom as he forced down some tasteless food before crawling into bed. The hardest part of his day came when Finn crawled into the bed next to him.

It was something he should have stopped after the first night he dragged Finn against him and held him all night, but each time Finn showed up, he remained silent and waited until that warm, lean body was pressed against his, filling places Rhys hadn’t realized were empty. His arm would go around Finn before he could even think better of it and he’d wait for the desire in his body to settle enough that sleep could claim him. And for the first time in a long time, he slept through the night. Finn was always gone the next morning before he awoke and it was just something thatwasand they never talked about it.

“Finn, I need a ride to the hardware store,” he said as he stopped outside the stall Finn was working on.

“Keys are in the truck,” came the clipped response.

Rhys bit back his frustration. “You have to drive me.”

Finn stopped cleaning and looked up. “It’s not far. You won’t get lost,” he said.

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