Cowboy: The Mathesons - Book 2 Page 9

  His perfect touch took me right to the edge. After a pause of a few short seconds, Tate stroked us both together. I was so close that the contact was enough. I thrashed against the bed as I shot hard. It was the most powerful orgasm I’d experienced since before we broke up. It left me breathless.

  Tate followed less than a minute later, and he gripped my wrists even tighter while he blew his load all over my chest and belly. When he finally released my wrists, Tate knelt on the bed fighting to catch his breath. I watched his right pec flex and reached out to tug him down on the bed beside me.

  “Fuck, Simon, I love you.”

  He reached out for me and pulled me over onto his sweat-streaked body. When Tate’s arms wrapped tight around my body, the sensation of arriving home swept over me. We didn’t get to the fuck part, at least not that night. Resting against the body of my man in post-orgasm bliss, I didn’t care. I kissed a nipple and laid my cheek on his hard, smooth chest.

  “I love you, too.”

  11

  Tate

  I fell asleep with warm thoughts floating through my mind. The years of suffering over Simon’s absence were suddenly over. Something in my gut told me it was too easy, but I wanted to believe and swept the negatives aside. I fell asleep with my arms wrapped around Simon’s body and a smile on my face.

  Reality hit hard the next morning. While I scrambled eggs in a skillet on the stove and Simon sat at the kitchen table sipping coffee to wake up, I offered suggestions for the day ahead. “I know we’ve got the meeting with Mason at the office this morning, but you’re welcome to work here in the afternoon if you’d like. I think everything’s where it’s always been…”

  Simon interrupted me. “I know last night was amazing, but let’s not move too fast, okay? We had some real issues in the past. We can’t ignore that. One fantastic night in bed—and that was great, no denying it—doesn’t wallpaper over everything else. I’m sorry, Tate.”

  Simon was right, but I wanted him to be wrong. I wanted him to move back in as soon as possible. We could pick up where we left off—at least where the good times left off. I knew that we deserved a second chance.

  I didn’t respond to his comments immediately. Instead, I slowly carried two plates of eggs and sausage to the table for us. I could feel Simon’s eyes fixed on me as I sat down. He was waiting.

  Simon asked, “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, and I understand.” Unfortunately, that was true. I did understand. I couldn’t protest and insist that he wasn’t making sense. I didn’t have any other choice but to follow Simon’s lead. He was too smart. He knew the right things to do. Those two moms raised him well.

  Simon sipped his coffee while I sat with him at the table. I exhaled slowly. My brain bumped along down the path of thinking every movement was adorable. I wanted to hold him close and feed him breakfast while I kissed the side of his neck.

  Simon said, “So I won’t be here when you get home from work, and I won’t be able to come over tonight. I’ve got a commitment to have dinner with my moms, and I have work to do on my own business.”

  “I remembered having dinner with Simon’s two moms as a couple. They are always great evenings. Mom Tina was a great cook, and sometimes we watched movies or played games together after we ate. I asked, “Tomorrow night then?”

  “Probably.”

  Simon dug into the eggs with his fork. “These are awesome. You’re still a genius with breakfast.”

  I knew my smile was a weak one. I was processing the fact that Simon was ripping himself out of my grasp for another thirty-six hours or so—at least. At least I’d get to see him in a meeting at Matheson and Greene. Unfortunately, I wouldn’t be able to wrap him up in my arms there like I wanted to.

  After swallowing some coffee around the lump in my throat, I said, “Thank you,” in a voice uncharacteristically quiet for me.

  Simon reached out his left hand and touched my forearm. “Last night was phenomenal, Tate, and I can’t begin to think of words to describe how amazing it was to be back in your arms, but I’m different now. I’m sure you are, too, once you let yourself stepped down out of the clouds. It’s been years. The world around us is a new place, too.”

  I wasn’t so sure that I was different at all, but I wasn’t in any mood to argue. We’d done far too much of that already in the past. Instead, I nodded my agreement. I decided to verify when I’d see him again. “What time’s the meeting?”

  “I’ve got down 10:00 a.m. I hope that’s not too early for Mason.”

  I shook my head. “No, if he agreed to the time, he’ll be there. I can always depend on my big brother to be punctual.”

  The heady emotional peaks of the night before were gone already. Simon was slipping into work mode. My obsession with laboring late at night drove us apart in the past. Simon wasn’t obsessed—at least as far as I could tell—but I already wanted him to think more about us and less about work. I decided that it was my turn to experience the churning emotions about employment.

  Simon said, “I owe you and Mason a huge thank you. This project is a perfect boost, and you’re well-known here in Manhattan. I couldn’t have a much better name to wave in front of prospective clients when I’m telling them about my past customers.

  “I’m glad we can help. I hope you know that I really do care about you.”

  I was feeling vulnerable in so many different ways. My logical mind knew that I didn’t need to question Simon’s awareness that I cared about him, but my emotions were raw. They needed reassurance.

  “Of course, I know you care. We broke up. We didn’t damn each other to hell. Tate, I meant it when I said that I still love you.”

  Simon finished his breakfast, pushed back from the table, and headed for the sink. He rinsed his plate and placed it in the dishwasher. All of the familiar routines were still there. He was wearing perfect jeans again. I tried to stop myself from staring at his package when he turned around, but I failed.

  Facing me, Simon said, “My eyes are up here.”

  “It’s called appreciation.” I stood up and opened my arms. Simon accepted the hug. We kissed. It was a quick morning one with barely parted lips. It wasn’t hot and heavy like what happened the night before.

  “I have to go,” said Simon. “I’ll see you at 10:00.”

  As I watched him leave and close the door of my apartment behind him, I couldn’t let go of a nagging feeling that it could be the last time. I worried that it was finally closure or something like that. Simon’s words didn’t slam the door, but I feared that the long-term effect would be the same.

  I walked up to the door and gently pounded a fist on it. Talking to myself, I said, “Get a grip, Tate. He’s back in your life. You’ll work with him. Don’t jump ahead to worries about a looming catastrophe.”

  * * *

  As I set foot in my office again, I thought about the drab nature of the surroundings. I didn’t notice it until Mason said something. I barely paid attention to it at all. He was right. We desperately needed a change.

  I’d seen positive benefits already from Mason’s visit before work even began. When I looked over proposals for advertising campaigns and mockups of commercials, I encouraged our production crews and designers to pump up the color and impact. They responded positively to the requests. I’d already seen better final products.

  Five minutes before 10:00 a.m., I dialed up Mason to find out if he was ready for the meeting. Unexpected dark circles were visible under his eyes, and his hair was slightly disheveled, at least for Mason.

  I asked, “Wow, are you okay? It looks like you had a rough night.”

  A sheepish grin worked its way across Mason’s face. “I had an excellent night. I guess things went on a little long. Kyle got carried away if you know what I mean.”

  While I shook my head, Mason reached up and raked his fingers through his hair trying to make it more presentable. My big brother was handsome even when he hadn’t slept enough. I was envious.

>   “Your hair’s okay. It’s just Simon and me in the meeting. I’ve seen much worse.”

  Mason chuckled softly. “Is there any word on Simon? Any progress there?”

  I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t think I wanted to tell Mason yet about sleeping with Simon, but I thought perhaps talking would ease some of my worries about the future. As I started to open my mouth, I heard a knock on my office door. I’d been staring at the computer screen while I talked to Mason and didn’t notice anyone walking up. Simon was at the door, and he was ready for the meeting.

  I whispered to Mason, “We’ll talk about this later,” and I stood up.

  Simon offered a hug as soon as I opened the office door. It was fantastic to have him in my arms again. It was only a couple of hours since he left the apartment, but it already felt like I’d spent a full day without him.

  “I’ve got Mason on the line, and we can get things going right away. I called five minutes early to make sure he’d be here.”

  “Like Mason wouldn’t be?” said Simon. “You reminded me about his habits this morning. He runs his life with clockwork precision. Was it possible that you had some other things to talk about?” He followed up his question with a smirk.

  I knew that Simon was insinuating that I was discussing him with Mason, but he was wrong. We didn’t get to that point. “Yep, we talked about the dark circles under his eyes.”

  As I began to pull back from the hug, Simon placed a hand on my chest. “Can you tell Mason to wait a few minutes? I want to talk to you before we start.”

  I felt a lump suddenly emerge in my throat. Is he telling me it won’t work? I couldn’t say no to his request. Slipping behind my desk for a moment, I told Mason, “Go get another cup of coffee. Simon’s here, but we need to talk privately for a second.”

  Mason grinned. “No problem little brother.” I pressed the mute button to cut off the sound.

  Turning to Simon, I said, “It’s like he isn’t here at all now. He can’t hear us, and I’ll join you on the other side of the desk so he can’t see us either.”

  We each pulled up chairs and sat. I couldn’t stop myself from drumming my fingers nervously on the arm of the chair. Simon looked relaxed. Watching him acting that way sparked both hope and fear.

  Simon said, “It’s not that complicated. I just didn’t want Mason’s input, at least not yet. This is about us.”

  I exhaled. If he was talking about Mason’s input somewhere down the road that had to mean he wasn’t talking about walking out the door. I fought to keep my voice even and in a low tone. “What’s on your mind?”

  “I think I was a little abrupt this morning. I hope I didn’t give you the wrong idea about anything. I also want to say thank you for last night. Oddly, it felt like I was home again.”

  “Odd?”

  Simon rubbed his hands on his jeans. “Different. You know. I guess I didn’t expect it to hit me so hard. It’s never just sex with you, Tate. I think you already know that. So many other things are in the bedroom with us—hopes, dreams.”

  I smiled. At least we were on the same page with that observation.

  Simon continued. “I’ll get right to the point. I want us to try to work something out. I can’t do something like last night and walk away again. To do that sounds like the most absurd thing in the world. Can we try?”

  I grinned from ear to ear. “Of course, and yeah, let’s leave big brother Mason out of it for now.”

  “Except we need a story for why we cut him off,” said Simon. “Do you have any suggestions?”

  “Tell him that you asked me for a date. I think that’s sort of what’s going on without us giving Mason something to run with in talking about the overall relationship.”

  12

  Simon

  Mom Missy slapped my hand away from the pot of chili on the stove. “Stay out of it. You’ll get to eat it in about fifteen minutes anyway. Why don’t you sit at the table, and we can talk a bit. You’ve been kind of quiet the last couple of weeks. Is everything going okay? How are the plans for your new office? Do you have a grand opening date yet?”

  It was a complicated series of questions. I contented myself with inhaling the rich, savory aroma of Mom Missy’s famous pot of red before I seated myself at the kitchen table. It was one of the few things she cooked. Mom Tina handled most of the meals.

  Mom Missy handed me a teacup. I knew part of the quiet was related to Tate. I knew that I still loved him, and I wanted everything to work out, but I wasn’t ready to talk about it yet. It was such an ordeal to explain our breakup the first time around. I wanted to be sure before I started advertising that we were trying again.

  I said, “That’s a lot of questions. What’s this? Maybe I should drink a beer instead.”

  She shook her head and talked like a mom. “You can have that beer with dinner. This is perfect for now. It’s a new herbal tea, and it makes you feel very relaxed. I give it to Tina after she’s spent a long day fighting with her sculptures. She loves it.”

  “Do they come to life and try to wrestle her to the floor?”

  Mom Missy laughed. “She hasn’t reported that yet, but I hear stories about how her muse wouldn’t let her get it just right. She tells me that sometimes she talks out loud when they’re in the middle of an argument.”

  A voice from out in the hallway responded. “Are you talking about me in there? Shouldn’t I be in the room when I’m the topic?”

  I said, “It’s a lot more fun talking about you when you aren’t here.”

  Mom Tina entered with a huge smile on her face. I couldn’t believe that she’d completed a hard day of work. Her grin showed off a set of perfectly white teeth, and I didn’t see any signs of dark circles under her eyes. She credited her youthful appearance to living a natural lifestyle.

  She asked, “Did I tell you about the man that bought one of the sculptures of you?”

  Mom Tina stepped up behind me and wrapped her arms around my neck hugging my shoulders. I groaned. “Oh, man, do you mean I’m naked in some total stranger’s living room? That’s a little creepy.”

  “Well, I don’t know if it’s the living room. I like to think of my sculptures sitting in spaces designed for art like a gallery room.”

  “So what did you want to tell about him?”

  Mom Tina pressed her face against the side of mine. She was always more physically affectionate than Mom Missy, and I treasured the difference between the two. Mom Missy knew how to express her emotions in words. I never doubted the abundant love from either of them.

  “He said that the sculpture reminded him of his ex-boyfriend,” said Mom Missy.

  I grimaced. “Is there any possibility he is one one of my boyfriends from the past? I think I’ll die if that’s the case.”

  “Did you ever date someone named Stuart?”

  I breathed a sigh of relief. There were no Stuarts in my past. I shook my head no.

  “And this man is in his sixties. You’ve never talked about dating significantly older men.”

  “Nope. I haven’t gone there yet.”

  Mom Tina pulled back slightly resting both of her hands on my shoulders. “Something is bothering you. I can feel it through your skin. Am I right, Simon?”

  I sighed. “You’re always right, but I don’t want to talk about it yet. I’m not ready. It’s not anything bad, so don’t worry. If everything works out, you’ll find out soon. Then it’ll probably be difficult to shut me up. So, you should both appreciate the silence right now.”

  I set off a round of speculation. My two moms possessed infinite amounts of curiosity between them. Mom Missy said, “I bet it’s that gentleman Hamish. He finally asked our boy out.”

  Mom Tina shook her head. “I think Tate is back around. You know that he’s still here in the city. I don’t think Hamish is our boy’s type.”

  She was too insightful much of the time. I fought back any physical responses to her comment. I didn’t need to give her any more clues t
han she’d already picked up.

  We shared a fantastic dinner, and I steered the conversation toward their lives and away from mine. Mom Missy talked about problem students, and Mom Tina talked about odd conversations with potential collectors of her work. They always loved talking about themselves, and they were both always ready with a fascinating story.

  We spent two hours watching TV with my moms cuddled up on either side of me. When I was ready for bed, Mom Tina was already asleep with her head on my upper arm.

  I started to stir, and Mom Missy said, “Wow, I guess we were falling asleep. Are you going to bed?”

  Nodding, I said that I needed the sleep. I wanted to have plenty of time in the morning to prepare for my next meeting at Matheson and Greene. I didn’t need to impress Tate, but I wanted him to know that I still knew how to take care of myself, so that meant allowing time for primping. I had samples to show him, and that meant at least an hour, maybe two spent in close proximity to each other at his office.

  The bedroom felt strangely empty as I retreated to the bed. It was already close to 10:00 p.m. I thought about Tate with every step I took. Staring at myself in the mirror in the back bathroom that I had to myself, I thought about Tate wrapping his big arms around me from behind and looking at us over my shoulder. He was as handsome as always, maybe even more than in the past, since he started wearing his glasses regularly instead of contact lenses. I loved seeing handsome men in glasses.

  As I drifted off to sleep tucked beneath the sheets and blanket on my bed, I wondered how long it would be before I could move in again with Tate. I decided that I needed to be confident that it would happen. It was only a matter of time. I knew that he found it as hard to quit me as it was for me to think of leaving him again.

  * * *

  Tate wore a crisp, charcoal-colored suit the next morning with a deep purple tie and a gray shirt. I dressed in my usual jeans and button-up business-casual shirt. As I drew close in his office, I thought I detected a new fragrance surrounding him. It was subtle, but it was woodsy and masculine. The scent was a perfect fit.