Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92536 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92536 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Tate’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. For a moment, it seemed he wouldn’t respond, but then he spoke. “I… this is new to me.”
“I know.”
“You’ve met some of the people in my life. They’re assholes on a good day.” He glanced at Liam with a fierce expression. “I’m used to keeping my shit on lockdown.”
“I know that too. I’m not asking you to spill your guts to me. I get it might take you a while to feel like you can trust me, but I just want to make sure you know you can. I’ll keep your confidence and never judge you. I am and always will be a safe place for you, no matter what happens or doesn’t happen between us.”
Tate cleared his throat. Was he struggling to accept what Liam said? Or could he be feeling the same intense connection and desire to be closer to Liam, not only sexually but in all ways? After a few tense seconds, he rasped, “Thank you.”
“Trust me when I tell you it is my pleasure.” Liam extended his hand, palm up, resting it on the center console.
He counted the seconds as Tate’s gaze bounced between his hand and the road ahead. Liam would give it until twenty, then pull back. When he got to twelve, Tate shifted, taking the steering wheel with his left hand and placing his right on top of Liam’s.
Triumph surged through him, but he fought to keep calm and not bounce in his seat. Instead of cheering like he wanted, he closed his fingers around Tate’s and said, “He’s gay. Did you know that?”
“Huh? Who?”
“Chuck Palahniuk.”
“Oh, yeah. I did know that.”
The conversation lightened after that, flowing without any effort on Liam’s part. They continued talking about books and movies and discovered they had similar tastes in many things, except food. Tate had never eaten sushi, a horrifying fact Liam planned to remedy as soon as possible.
After thirty minutes of driving through farmland, Tate turned onto an unmarked road Liam never saw coming. It was more of a dirt path than a road and ended at a creek after about a hundred yards.
“Whoa.” Liam craned his neck to get a better look at their surroundings. “Where are we?”
“This is the back end of a huge commercial farm.”
His eyes widened. “Are we allowed to be here?”
Tate’s chuckle made his cheeks burn. “Not sure, to be honest, but I’ve been here hundreds of times and haven’t been caught yet, so…” He shrugged.
“How do you know about this place?”
“My old man worked here when I was a kid. For about a decade after he split, he would randomly show up at the trailer park every six months or so. Mom loved it. She’d make him take Randy and me to work with him until he disappeared again. There wasn’t anyone to supervise us while he worked, so we did a lot of exploring and found this place. Around the time I turned twelve, my old man didn’t come around for two straight years. But I managed to get myself here sometimes and still come when I need… space.”
Their gazes locked. Liam saw the vulnerability staring back at him. Tate let him see the vulnerability. The weight of the responsibility of protecting this man’s sacred emotions pressed down on him, but he was up to the challenge. “And you brought me here.”
A single nod was all he received in reply. It was enough.
Liam squeezed Tate’s hand and then released him as he turned toward the door. “Well then, let's get to picnicking.”
“This time, I wanted space… with you,” Tate spoke to his back, but the position didn’t dim the impact of the admission.
Afraid his emotions would show all over his face, Liam kept his back to Tate. “That sounds perfect to me.”
After they climbed out of the car, Tate went to the trunk while Liam absorbed their surroundings. The creek ran so clear the water looked drinkable. They were in a smallish clearing surrounded by cornfields on either side of the creek. The tall plants provided privacy and made him feel as though they were the only two souls for miles.
Maybe they were.
“This is beautiful.” He inhaled, drawing in the sweet scent permeating the air from the growing corn. It was one of the first things he learned to love about driving through farm country. “So, what’s the plan?” He spun around, and his jaw nearly hit the dirt. “Tate…” he whispered.
The man had pulled a duffle out of the trunk and now kneeled, setting up an idyllic picnic. He’d spread a red blanket over the ground and unloaded food containers. Liam happened to turn as he was pulling a bottle of white wine from the duffle.
Wine? Somehow, he didn’t peg Tate as a wine drinker, which meant it was for him.
His heart swelled to near bursting.