They ended up eating lunch at one of the picnic areas, somewhat protected from the mosquitoes by the breeze off the water. Kara and Carter discussed the logistics of her T-ball takeover, which Jeff let pass easily over his head when he realized he actually had decent enough reception to load the pictures in the emails Corey had sent him.
He was thumbing through the options, debating whether he wanted to remodel a couple of bathrooms over the next few years if it meant he could have a gate, when Carter nudged him and he panicked and almost dropped his phone.
“Wow.” Carter’s eyebrows rose nearly to his hairline. “Are you looking at porn or something? I promise I won’t kink-shame.”
Jeff couldn’t decide whether to scramble for a lie or a snappy remark, so he felt relieved when Kara said, “Aww. The honeymoon’s over already.”
“If Carter’s asking about my kinks, I think we’re firmly in the prehoneymoon stage,” Jeff said wryly, grateful his phone screen had gone dark because he’d accidentally hit the button.
“Good point.” Kara crunched a carrot. “Don’t worry, Carter, I’m sure he’ll go slow with you at first.”
Between her words and Carter’s blindsided, half-offended expression, it was several minutes before Jeff could stop laughing.
AS WITHmany other tasks, money made the process of buying a cottage infinitely less painful. It took Jeff a week to choose one, put in an offer, get an inspection, and close the sale. Thirty-six hours after that, Monique called to let him know his condo had sold and the deal was done.
Unfortunately, that left him with a number of other problems.
He still hadn’t heard from Max. Everything else was just money; Jeff could always make more of it. He couldn’t replace Max.
At least Trix seemed to have some contact with him, because she said, “He’s going through some stuff. I promise he will talk to you eventually, but he has things he needs to apologize to you for, and he needs to work up to it.”
Jeff just hoped he managed that before they had to play in Ottawa.
And then there was the cabin rental. Jeff wasn’t exactlybroke, but it didn’t seem like a great idea to let the cabin just sit there once he owned property, especially considering his recent change in financial situation.Especiallywith the potential of Big Moose finding out what they were up to and blowing the whole thing out of the water.
After a week of agonizing, he amended his rental agreement the day the cottage closed. He’d have two days to get the rest of his things from the cabin and transfer them to his fancy new four-bedroom cottage on the lake (complete with boathouse). Most of his stuff was at Carter’s by now anyway; he only used the cabin for songwriting.
The biggest problemshouldhave been keeping his mouth shut about all of this to Carter, but Carter was still working like he could single-handedly save the planet. Eventually Jeff took to driving him to and from work every day just to curb Carter’s habit of spending ten hours in the office.
Or so he thought, at least until, one evening in late June, he arrived at Carter’s office at six thirty to find the building locked and the parking lot empty.
Typical.
At least Carter had the good sense to pick up on the second ring. “I’m late for dinner, huh?”
Jeff rolled his eyes. “You’re late for a kick in the ass. Where are you?”
“Uh, Two Willows Point?”
God damn it. The road only went halfway out there. “Did youwalk—”
“No, relax, we took a utility cart. We had a patron report a badger sighting. Had to check it out.” He sounded socheerful, like this was the best possible thing he could imagine. “Normally I’m pretty skeptical, but they were right. Which is a big deal, because there’s fewer than two hundred badgers in Ontario, by the latest estimate.”
It was difficult to maintain his grump in the face of Carter’s enthusiasm. “Congratulations.” The way Carter talked, he might as well have personally built the badger a guest house and rolled out the welcome mat. Which, considering that he was largely responsible for the stewardship of the park and creating, curating, and preserving its microhabitats, wasn’t far off.
“Thanks,” Carter said, as though Jeff had been completely sincere.
Jeffhadbeen completely sincere. Damn it. “Want me to come meet you?”
So he drove off to pick up Carter from wherever his ranger of the day had carted him off to. For ten minutes Carter talked animatedly about the biodiversity returning to that area of the park, and then they hit the highway and he leaned his head against the window and fell asleep with the evening sun gilding his hair.
Jeff could hardly look at him, and yet he couldn’t tear his eyes away. He was too beautiful and too good, and Jeff loved him to distraction. The next month was going to be terrible. If he could just get this last show under his belt, and if they could get their album written in time, and if the new label deemed it good enough, then he could have this life—this quieter, slower, warmer life—where he’d be gone for a few weeks a year instead of months on end; where he’d spend his life surrounded by people who knew him instead of people who simply adored his persona; where Carter would come home to him at the end of almost every day.
Even if he was late.
Late workday or not, Carter’s car nap must have rejuvenated him, because when they got home, he shepherded Jeff into the bedroom and then rubbed his beard all over Jeff’s thighs before taking him into his mouth. As soon as Jeff started to move his hips, Carter abandoned his dick, hard and leaking all over his stomach, in favor of fucking him open with two fingers.
Carterreallydidn’t need any help finding Jeff’s prostate now. He worked Jeff until Jeff was fucking back into every thrust, hands curled in the sheets, profanities falling from his lips. Jeff orgasmed on a half shout as Carter ran his teeth up the sensitive skin on his inner thigh that he’d just beard-burned, and didn’t know how much later he tuned back in to reality to find Carter had three fingers in him now and was rutting unhurriedly against his thigh.
