“All right, I got you.”
Some of the tension left Jeff’s shoulders. “Thanks, man. I appreciate it.”
There was a pause. “Look, are you sure you don’t want me to come up? Sarah can manage April for a day or two without me. Just say the word.”
Joe was away from Sarah enough as it was; she worked full-time and couldn’t join them on the road. “I’m good,” he promised. “And if I’m not, I’ll call you. Take care, yeah?”
They hung up, and Jeff surveyed the kitchen. He should probably do the dishes—no dishwasher here, and he didn’t want to attract mice. Hedefinitelydidn’t want to attract anything bigger.
For the first time, he wondered who he was kidding. He hadn’t done dishes by hand in fifteen years—probably not since the last time he took his turn at Mrs. Rhodes’s kitchen sink before he moved. Maybe he should rent a cottage that had actual amenities. Maybe he should go back to Toronto.
While he was at it, maybe he should try making up with his bandmates before he had to play onstage with them again.
But he wasn’t ready to give up. He’d been here less than a day. Was he that much of a quitter?
Actually, that was a fair question, since part of the reason he’d come here was to remember who he was before he became Jeff Pine, Howl frontman.
A question he could answer just as easily while he was doing the dishes.
He was wiping the last of the soap bubbles from his arms when he heard tires crunching on the gravel drive. Glancing out the window didn’t immediately offer insight—the truck pulling in next to his had tinted windows and mud spattered halfway up the doors and could’ve belonged to anyone.
Could’ve, but Jeff would bet his Gibson he knew whose it was. Steeling himself, he topped up his coffee cup and went to the porch to meet his guest.
Jeff had thought the ranger uniform was a lot. In theory ranger uniforms should look stupid, but it was still a uniform, right? All official-looking, and Carter’s fit particularly well.
The ranger uniform as viewed by firelight had not prepared him for Carter in the morning sunshine, wearing jeans and a T-shirt that looked like it had gone in the dryer one too many times. It clung to every muscle—no easy task—setting a great example for his jeans, which barely contained his thighs.
It was already cruel of the universe to throw Jeff’s former BFF and unrequited crush back into his life when he was low. Did he also have to be this attractive? Honestly, was thisnecessary? Next thing you knew someone would give him a baby to hold in one extremely large hand, just to really punctuate the statement.
“Uh,” Carter said when he saw Jeff standing on the porch. “Hey.”
At least, Jeff thought viciously, his aviator sunglasses looked stupid. “Hey,” he said back. “You know stalking’s illegal, right?”
“Funny.” He pulled off the sunglasses—damn it—and clipped them on the front of his shirt. Now he kind of looked like a dorky dad. Unfortunately that didn’t actually make him less attractive. “Look, I come in peace, okay?” He paused, and the corner of his mouth twitched. “If I say ‘I just want to talk,’ does that make it better or worse?”
Jeff debated. The wound of childhood was still tender, but that was because Jeff never let it heal. He was fifteen and his mom died and if he wanted to hold a lifelong grudge against the best friend he’d caught kissing his cousin on the back steps of the funeral parlor, he would. But it wasn’t as though Jeff had ever confessed his feelings. Carter couldn’t know how much that hurt him.
Jeff had no reason to hold on to this pain and every reason to let it go. He’d come here to remember who he was without Howl. And a huge part of who he’d been revolved around Carter.
Besides, Jeff was not in the habit of turning away guys who looked likethat.
“You want a coffee?” He gestured to the battered Muskoka chairs that adorned the creaky porch.
Carter nodded. “Thanks. You have creamer?”
“Now you’re just getting demanding.” He let himself smile a little to show he was teasing. It didn’t feel natural yet, but the muscle memory was there somewhere.
Carter had his feet up on the porch railing when Jeff came back. He accepted the painted tin mug Jeff handed him. “Thanks.”
“Sure.” Jeff looked at the remaining Muskoka chair and debated that versus the railing. The chair felt couple-y. The railing felt awkward.
He sat in the chair and refused to fidget. “So. Long time no see, I guess.”
Carter sipped at his coffee. “I don’t know, seems like it was just yesterday.”
Fuck, was he going to make dad jokes? Jeff refused to be attracted to that. “Really?”
“Hm. Tough crowd.”
