Read Online Finding Home (Finding Series, Book 1) by Sloane Kennedy - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Sloane Kennedy
Ads: Link
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.
“ Does he 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.”
Chapter 8
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
***
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.
“ Does he 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.”
Chapter 8
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
Similar Books
