Read Online The Rebuilding Year by Kaje Harper - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Kaje Harper
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down to the walkway and turned to consider the placement, his head on one side.
It looked like Halloween. He peered closer. Yes, that was a rubber bat hanging from the porch light. And a pipe-cleaner spider above the doorbell. He couldn’t help smiling. When he was a kid, a house with cool pumpkins was a good bet for plentiful candy. He hoped he’d bought enough.
The door opened and Ryan limped out. He wore a fresh T-shirt and jeans with bare feet, and his hair was wet and clean. He came down the steps to join John, and turned to gaze at the pumpkins. “Okay, so now I’m really embarrassed.”
“No.” John stepped closer. Ryan smelled of soap, and lemon shampoo. At least as far as John could tell over his own pervasive pumpkin cologne. “It looks great. It looks like home.”
“I like Halloween. I guess I’m just a kid at heart.”
John touched a muscled forearm with one finger. “Pretty big kid.”
“You’re bigger. It’s been a while since I lost a pumpkin-guts battle.” Ryan’s eyes were colorless in the deepening gloom.
For a moment John just stood and breathed, his lungs filled with candle smoke and dried leaves and lemon shampoo. Something was moving, changing inside him, but he didn’t know what. Then Ryan laughed and headed back up the steps. “You go shower. I’ll listen for the doorbell, and work on cleaning the kitchen some. Although you haven’t done much, as far as I can see. You will do your share.”
The return quip wouldn’t come. John trailed after Ryan into the house and headed up the stairs two at a time. He needed a shower. He needed to get the drying goo out of his hair, needed the warm water cascading down. And maybe he needed his own hand, in the wet rushing darkness. Because there was no willing woman in this home that he and Ryan were making, and his body was feeling that lack acutely right now.
The Copper Stein was crowded on a November Saturday night. Ryan ran his gaze around the barroom. His beer glass was half empty again. He would have sworn it was full just a moment ago. Across from him, John sipped from his own glass and licked the foam from his lips. Ryan blinked and then looked away. Not watching a guy lick his mouth.
Ryan felt restless, itchy. Med school was smoothing out after midterms, from overwhelming to doable. The house was becoming a familiar haven. Stepping in the door was coming home. He didn’t know why he felt so discontented. Maybe he was missing the excitement of fighting fires. There was no denying that sitting in class looking at slides didn’t compare to climbing into his gear and walking into the smoke.
Ryan found he no longer missed his buddies from the firehouse as much. John was good company. Sure, there were a couple of the guys he’d started e-mailing again. It was nice to keep in touch. But none of them had been as easy to be with as this man across the table. The firefighters’ lives were different from his now, and their e-mail exchanges were superficial. With John, he could joke about deer stopping traffic on the parkway, or discuss the ethics of using embryos for research, and get an appropriate response. Or he could sit in silence, like tonight, and feel at ease.
Except tonight, he didn’t. Lately, there were just times when his skin felt too small for his body. Or he would wake up from the weirdest dreams, so hard he was aching, and not remember which girl he’d been dreaming about. He’d decided he needed to get laid. It had been over a year, after all.
Which was fricking unbelievable, for Ryan Ward, playboy of the SDFD. There had never been a shortage of willing women around the firehouse. Ryan hadn’t been the biggest sleaze in the place, but he had definitely taken what was offered when he was in the mood. Not as often as his ex-roommate Jason, but enough. He’d even had a few girls who came back for more, for a week or a month. Until he started to detect clinging. At which time he’d shrugged them off and
It looked like Halloween. He peered closer. Yes, that was a rubber bat hanging from the porch light. And a pipe-cleaner spider above the doorbell. He couldn’t help smiling. When he was a kid, a house with cool pumpkins was a good bet for plentiful candy. He hoped he’d bought enough.
The door opened and Ryan limped out. He wore a fresh T-shirt and jeans with bare feet, and his hair was wet and clean. He came down the steps to join John, and turned to gaze at the pumpkins. “Okay, so now I’m really embarrassed.”
“No.” John stepped closer. Ryan smelled of soap, and lemon shampoo. At least as far as John could tell over his own pervasive pumpkin cologne. “It looks great. It looks like home.”
“I like Halloween. I guess I’m just a kid at heart.”
John touched a muscled forearm with one finger. “Pretty big kid.”
“You’re bigger. It’s been a while since I lost a pumpkin-guts battle.” Ryan’s eyes were colorless in the deepening gloom.
For a moment John just stood and breathed, his lungs filled with candle smoke and dried leaves and lemon shampoo. Something was moving, changing inside him, but he didn’t know what. Then Ryan laughed and headed back up the steps. “You go shower. I’ll listen for the doorbell, and work on cleaning the kitchen some. Although you haven’t done much, as far as I can see. You will do your share.”
The return quip wouldn’t come. John trailed after Ryan into the house and headed up the stairs two at a time. He needed a shower. He needed to get the drying goo out of his hair, needed the warm water cascading down. And maybe he needed his own hand, in the wet rushing darkness. Because there was no willing woman in this home that he and Ryan were making, and his body was feeling that lack acutely right now.
The Copper Stein was crowded on a November Saturday night. Ryan ran his gaze around the barroom. His beer glass was half empty again. He would have sworn it was full just a moment ago. Across from him, John sipped from his own glass and licked the foam from his lips. Ryan blinked and then looked away. Not watching a guy lick his mouth.
Ryan felt restless, itchy. Med school was smoothing out after midterms, from overwhelming to doable. The house was becoming a familiar haven. Stepping in the door was coming home. He didn’t know why he felt so discontented. Maybe he was missing the excitement of fighting fires. There was no denying that sitting in class looking at slides didn’t compare to climbing into his gear and walking into the smoke.
Ryan found he no longer missed his buddies from the firehouse as much. John was good company. Sure, there were a couple of the guys he’d started e-mailing again. It was nice to keep in touch. But none of them had been as easy to be with as this man across the table. The firefighters’ lives were different from his now, and their e-mail exchanges were superficial. With John, he could joke about deer stopping traffic on the parkway, or discuss the ethics of using embryos for research, and get an appropriate response. Or he could sit in silence, like tonight, and feel at ease.
Except tonight, he didn’t. Lately, there were just times when his skin felt too small for his body. Or he would wake up from the weirdest dreams, so hard he was aching, and not remember which girl he’d been dreaming about. He’d decided he needed to get laid. It had been over a year, after all.
Which was fricking unbelievable, for Ryan Ward, playboy of the SDFD. There had never been a shortage of willing women around the firehouse. Ryan hadn’t been the biggest sleaze in the place, but he had definitely taken what was offered when he was in the mood. Not as often as his ex-roommate Jason, but enough. He’d even had a few girls who came back for more, for a week or a month. Until he started to detect clinging. At which time he’d shrugged them off and
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