Finding Home (Finding Series, Book 1) (2 page)

Rhys felt every muscle burning as he shoveled the last pile of shit into the wheelbarrow and took it out to the mountain of steaming, smelly manure behind the barn. Being a cop had meant he had to keep in shape and working out had been the only thing to keep him from going insane in his tiny jail cell, so he’d figured a little physical labor wouldn’t kill him. But between the searing heat and the backbreaking work, he was ready to throw in the towel and call Frank and beg the man to find him something else.

Finn had left a couple of hours ago after giving him a quick tour of the place and a run down on cleaning stalls and moving hay bales from the trailer out back. The only thing keeping him going was knowing tonight he’d be sharing one of the two small cottages with the very hot, very fuckable, Finn. That lean, toned body would fit perfectly beneath his as he stroked in and out of him with long, slow…

“You done?”

Finn’s voice ripped him from his thoughts. “What?” he asked stupidly as he tried to get his growing erection under control before he had to turn and face the other man.

“I asked if you were done?”

“Um, yeah, just gotta line the last stall,” he said as he pretended to try and get the last of the shit out of the already empty wheelbarrow.

“I’ll take care of it,” he heard Finn say.

By the time Rhys got back into the barn, Finn was putting fresh straw in the stall. Rhys put the wheelbarrow away, then stood in the entryway to the stall and watched the other man work. He was slightly shorter than Rhys’ own 6 feet and was built like a swimmer with long, clean lines. His skin was golden from working in the hot Montana sun all day.

“So what was all that about earlier today? Hamilton?” Rhys asked. Finn glanced up, his blue eyes going dark and Rhys instantly regretted the question.

“Dare’s not quite as forward thinking as Chicago probably is,” Finn said quietly.

“Every place has haters,” Rhys responded.

“Yeah, I suppose. But in a small town like Dare where there’s one feed store, one grocery store, one hardware store, one gas station…” Finn’s voice trailed off.

“You can’t be the only gay guy in this place,” Rhys said.

Finn finished what he was doing and went to walk past Rhys. Rhys extended his arm, forcing Finn to stop.

“What happened?” Rhys asked softly.

Finn sighed and leaned back against the doorframe, his shoulder brushing Rhys’ hand. Electricity fired through Rhys’ veins at the slight contact.

“Got caught making out with the mayor’s son at our high school graduation party a while back. He told everyone I was trying to assault him. His father even tried to have me arrested.” Finn leaned his head back against the wood and closed his eyes. “Cal has a friend who works for the State Patrol and he was able to smooth things over with the local cops, but the town still considers me a pervert. They’ve been punishing Cal ever since. The feed store was the last place I could still pick up supplies for the ranch, but that’s gone now too.”

“Jesus,” Rhys muttered.

“I know I should take that job,” Finn said as he opened his eyes and fixed his gaze on Rhys. God, he really was beautiful and lust slammed through Rhys at the sight of those soft lips parting slightly as Finn spoke. Rhys couldn’t stop himself from shifting so that his body lined up with Finn’s, one arm still preventing Finn from escaping. He heard Finn suck in some air as Rhys let his erection brush up against Finn before putting just the tiniest amount of space between them.

“But you don’t want to leave Callan,” Rhys whispered as he skimmed his free hand over Finn’s mouth. His lips felt like silk beneath his fingers and he really wanted to taste them. “You’re in love with him.”

Finn stiffened at Rhys’ observation and tried to escape, but Rhys easily subdued him by pinning him with his body. The man instantly stopped struggling when he felt Rhys’ dick pressed up against his own. It bothered Rhys that he was lusting after a guy who wanted someone else, but it wasn’t like he was looking for wedding bells or even something beyond a couple of good, hard fucks. “Aren’t you?” Rhys asked, wanting to hear the kid admit it.

“He’s straight,” Finn finally said.

Ouch. Poor kid. Out in a town filled with people that hated him for who he was and in love with a straight man on top of that. He was beginning to agree that Finn should cut his losses and get out of this place.

“But you’re still in love with him.” Rhys dragged his thumb back and forth over Finn’s lower lip, then let out a harsh breath when Finn suddenly bit down gently on his finger and held it there as he stroked his tongue over the tip.

Rhys rubbed his cock against Finn’s stiffening length for several long seconds and then nearly came when Finn pulled his finger into his mouth and sucked hard.

“Fuck,” Rhys whispered as he dragged his finger free, fully prepared to replace it with his lips.

“Finn!”

Rhys pulled away from Finn who went pale at the sound of Callan’s voice. They both turned to see the angry man standing just inside the doorway to the barn, his furious gaze pinning Finn. “Get the horses in.”

Finn flushed and quickly disappeared from the stall and hurried out the back door.

“Mr. Tellar, come with me.”

Rhys bristled at the order, but followed the man outside. They stopped near the pickup truck Finn had been driving earlier.

“Frank Pettit is a friend of mine, so when he asked me for a favor, I had no problem saying yes because I trust his judgement implicitly. But I won’t hesitate to send your ass back to Chicago if you lay even one hand on Finn!”

So the guy could have given him a dozen different ultimatums for what would cause him to lose this job and he chose Finn? Interesting. Maybe he was more interested in the younger man then he let on.

“Sounds like Finn doesn’t have a lot of options in this town,” Rhys said casually.

“He doesn’t have any
good
options, Mr. Tellar. And I definitely don’t consider an ex-con who beat a cop half to death a good option for him.”

Rhys bristled at that and fought the urge to take a swing at the other man. “You don’t know shit about me,” he managed to get out.

“And I don’t need to. I told Frank I’d give you a chance. One chance. My guess is you won’t even get through the week before you blow it,” Callan said coldly.

“Fuck you.”

Callan smirked as if Rhys’ defensive words were more proof that he was right. “There’s a room in the back of the barn. You’ll be sleeping there instead of the staff quarters.”

Callan started walking away. “You saw us, right, Mr. Bale?” When Callan stopped walking but didn’t turn, Rhys said, “You saw what he was doing with his mouth?”

Rhys smiled in satisfaction when Callan stiffened. Maybe not as straight as Finn seemed to think. The thought was both disturbing and intriguing. “If he sucks dick the way he was sucking on my finger-”

Before he could finish his statement, Callan had him slammed back against the truck hard enough to rattle Rhys’ teeth.

“Pack your shit and get the fuck out!”

“He’s an adult-”

“He’s nineteen, you asshole!”

That stopped Rhys short. “He said he worked here for six years.”

“His father was the foreman here. Finn started helping out before and after school when he was thirteen years old!” Callan bellowed.

Rhys used his strength to push back against Callan, a move the other man clearly hadn’t expected because they both froze when Rhys’ erection brushed against the tell-tale hardness behind Callan’s jeans. Rhys could have dismissed the hard-on if it wasn’t for the raw need he saw in the other man’s eyes. And in an instant the same lust that had him burning for Finn was back and focused on this man.

“Cal, let him go.” Callan released him instantly at the sound of Finn’s voice and put several feet of space between them and Rhys wondered how much Finn had heard. He watched in shock as Callan removed his cowboy hat and casually held it in front of the bulge in his pants.

Finn reached them and didn’t seem to notice the sexual tension in the air or what Callan was doing with the hat. “You can’t keep doing this Cal,” Finn said sadly.

“Doing what?”

“Protecting me from everything. I’m not a kid anymore, despite what you think. Stop treating me like one.”

“Finn-”

“He goes, I go,” Finn said firmly, his eyes glancing in Rhys’ direction.

Callan glanced over his shoulder and Rhys could feel the disdain in his bones. “He’ll use you,” Callan bit out.

“That’s my choice to make.”

The way they were talking like he wasn’t even there left Rhys feeling cold and he moved past them both and headed towards Finn’s little house. He hadn’t even bothered to unpack before Finn put him to work so it took only a minute to grab his duffle bag from the closet in the small bedroom across from Finn’s.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it to sound like I agreed that you would use me,” Finn said from behind him.

“Doesn’t matter. It’s what I was planning to do,” Rhys said as he slung the bag over his shoulder and turned to face Finn who was standing just inside the doorway.

“You don’t have to go. Cal said you could stay,” Finn offered.

“I don’t think this is the best place for me to be right now,” Rhys said as he tried to move past Finn. But the younger man refused to move out of his way.

“You thought I was older, didn’t you?” Finn said. “He told you I’m nineteen.”

“What else did you hear?”

“Just some yelling. When I came out, I saw he had you up against the truck.” So the kid hadn’t heard Rhys taunting Callan.

“Look kid,” Rhys began, but stopped when Finn’s face fell.

“I haven’t been a kid since the day my dad beat the shit out of me when he found out I was gay!” Finn yelled angrily. “You know what? Fuck you! Fuck Cal!” he shouted before he disappeared into his room, slamming the door behind him. But before Rhys could even process what was happening, Finn ripped the door open, stalked across the hall and grabbed Rhys by the neck and slammed their mouths together.

Finn’s tongue pressed into his mouth and he opened instantly and moaned as that slick, hot appendage stroked and twined around his own tongue. Finn’s long fingers curled into his hair and angled Rhys’ head the way he wanted it so he could go deeper and Rhys dropped his duffle bag and reached for Finn’s hips. But Finn had other plans and quickly released him and stepped back. “Fuck you, Rhys,” he whispered, his voice sad and heavy. The finality in his tone made something deep inside of Rhys twist, but before he could say anything, Finn went back to his room and closed the door, the sound of the lock engaging deafening to his ears.

Jesus, he never should have kissed the guy. Finn Stewart cursed his own stupidity for the hundredth time since he’d closed the door to his bedroom last night, securing the lock more to remind himself that he needed to stay in the room rather than as a signal to keep Rhys out. Between Cal and Rhys, he was riding high on unrequited desire and if Rhys had shown any interest beyond the kiss Finn had forced on him last night, Finn would have gotten into any position Rhys had told him to. Of course, it wouldn’t have taken long for Rhys to figure out that he had no experience beyond kissing so things probably would have ended the way they had anyway – with Finn jerking off in the shower last night and Rhys on his way back to Chicago.

He glanced at the clock and saw his alarm would go off in less than five minutes. For once, he wasn’t eager to face the day or the man he’d been pining over since he was old enough to figure out what lust actually was. He’d met Callan Bale when Cal’s father hired Finn’s own father as foreman. Finn’s mom had walked out on them when he was seven and he hadn’t heard from her since, but he and his dad had been close and he’d idolized the man. Tag Stewart had always made time for his son, even after long days running cattle and mending fences. And as soon as Finn was old enough to sit a horse, he’d been learning the business by his father’s side. They’d talked and planned endlessly about the day they would get their own ranch and run it together, side by side. And then a kiss with the mayor’s son had taken it all away.

Growing up, he’d also gotten to work with Cal who was learning the business from his own father, Carter Bale, who’d inherited the ranch from Cal’s grandfather. It hadn’t taken long for Finn to realize that the feelings he had for Cal went well beyond being buddies or the way Cal often treated him like a younger brother. But Cal had never shown any interest in him and when Finn had finally gotten up the courage to try and kiss Cal after Finn’s sixteenth birthday party, it had been a rude awakening.

He could still remember that night. The few friends he’d had over had gone home and his father had gone to bed and he and Cal had been sitting on the patio swing on Cal’s porch. It had been just the two of them under a blanket of bright stars and the symphony of crickets and the occasional bullfrog from the nearby lake. Cal had given him a pocketknife and was in the process of explaining the different tools when Finn tried to kiss him. Cal had stopped him before their lips had touched and then looked at him with a sad smile – the one people gave you when they were trying to figure out how to let you down easy.

It turned out that Finn had been reading all the signals coming from Cal wrong over the years – the brush of his hand on Finn’s shoulder had been meant as encouragement, the kind words meant to comfort. Somehow Finn had turned everything around in his young mind and it hadn’t occurred to him that the strong feelings that went through him every time he was around Cal were one-sided. Cal hadn’t even had to say anything after he prevented the kiss from happening – one pitying look was all it had taken to send Finn running and they’d never discussed it again.

After that, Finn had focused on saving enough money so that he could pitch in when it came time for him and his father to buy their own place. But then the mayor’s son, Hunter Greene, had cornered him in his family’s pool house during the senior graduation party and kissed him – his second ever since the brief, experimental kiss he’d shared with Ronny when they were both fourteen. Kissing Hunter had been like nothing he’d ever experienced before and it hadn’t taken long before he and Hunter were rolling around on the floor, each trying to get their hands in the other’s swimsuits. Finn had won the battle and had been on top of Hunter, stroking him with long, hard pulls as he humped against him. And then light had flooded the dark room and Hunter’s father stood there as Hunter pushed Finn off and began spouting lies about what had transpired.

Before he could even explain what had really happened, Finn was being carted off to the police station and three hours later Cal was there to take him home. But home hadn’t been the refuge it should have been and his father wasn’t there to greet him with understanding. No, the man he’d loved more than anything, his hero, punched him over and over while calling him a faggot, then kicked him until Finn finally blacked out from the pain. He’d woken up in a hospital bed, Cal sitting worriedly in a nearby chair. He’d had that same bad news look on his face when he told Finn his father had left town after Cal fired him. Finn hadn’t seen or heard from his father since.

Finn forced himself out of bed and went to the bathroom. His morning erection wouldn’t be ignored so he climbed into the shower and took care of it, trying hard not to think too much about why his usual image of Cal taking him from behind suddenly included Rhys on his knees in front of him. By the time he’d toweled off, his need was already starting to burn through him again.

He got dressed and headed towards the kitchen and stopped suddenly at the sight that greeted him. Rhys was standing in front of the stove, his jeans lovingly hugging his tight ass and a grey T-shirt clinging to every rippling muscle along his back.

“Hey,” Rhys said as he turned around, frying pan in one hand, spatula in the other. He began putting scrambled eggs on the two plates on the small kitchen table. God, the man was gorgeous and the heat from the kiss Finn had stolen last night came back with a vengeance, as did the hard-on he’d rubbed out just a few minutes ago. Finn shifted to ease the tightness in his pants and heard Rhys ask, “You okay?” as his green eyes shimmered with amusement.
Bastard
.

“Fine,” Finn managed to get out as Rhys turned back to the stove and put the pan down. The small microwave on the counter dinged and Rhys grabbed the bacon he’d been heating up.

“I made coffee,” he said as he motioned to the nearly full pot.

“I thought you were leaving,” Finn said irritably as he hunted for a mug, then filled it full with coffee.

“Changed my mind,” was all Rhys said. He dropped bacon on both plates and began eating. Finn sat across from him, but didn’t touch the food.

“Because I kissed you last night?” Finn finally asked. Rhys lifted his eyes. “Because that was a mistake,” he stammered.

Rhys sighed and finished chewing before he responded, “I changed my mind because I don’t want to go back to prison,” he muttered.

Finn barely managed not to spit out the coffee he’d just taken a sip of. “Prison?”

“That’s why I’m here. My parole officer knows Callan and pulled some strings to get me this job. Six months and I’ll be free and clear. Otherwise I have to serve the rest of my sentence – two years.”

“You said you were a cop,” Finn said. It hadn’t even occurred to Finn why someone like Rhys would be working at a ranch in Montana – he’d just assumed the guy needed a change of scenery or something.

“I
was
a cop,” Rhys sad bitterly, his tone making it clear he wasn’t interested in discussing the subject further.

Finn decided to let it go and shoveled some food in his mouth. “It’s good,” he said as he reached for a piece of bacon.

“Yeah, well, when it’s my turn to cook, it’ll be this or spaghetti and that’s it.”

Finn chuckled. “I can live with that.”

“And Finn,” Rhys said, waiting until Finn raised his gaze and their eyes met. “Even if that kiss last night was a mistake, it was a fucking great one.”

***

Finn watched Rhys shift awkwardly in the saddle as he tried to adjust to the horse’s stride. “You good?” he asked as he pulled his own gelding up next to the mare Rhys was riding.

“Great,” Rhys bit out.

“You look uncomfortable,” Finn said.

“If you must know, my ass hurts like hell. And not in the good way!” Rhys snapped and Finn quickly had to adjust his seat at the image Rhys’ statement had conjured up.

“It’s only been twenty minutes,” Finn said with amusement.

“Which is about nineteen minutes too long. Where the hell are the cows?” Rhys muttered as he fiddled with the reins.

“Probably over this hill. There’s a river they like to hang out at in the afternoons.”

Rhys mumbled something under his breath and Finn laughed. The man moved with easy confidence on the ground, but stick him on a horse and he was a mess. A hot mess though.

“You got anyone back in Chicago?” Finn asked, hoping a little conversation would relax Rhys enough so that riding would come a bit easier to him.

“You probably should have asked me about a boyfriend last night before you kissed the shit out of me.”

Finn felt the heat in his cheeks at the reminder of his brazen behavior as well as the fact that it turned out that Rhys had enjoyed it. “I meant family.”

“No. No family. No boyfriend either,” Rhys smirked.

“Where are your folks?”

“No idea. Grew up in foster care. Never found out who my real parents were.”

“Sorry,” Finn said.

“For what?” Rhys said casually – too casually.

“So no one you were close to?”

“Not really. One of my foster brothers and I joined the army at the same time, but he stayed in after I finished my last tour and we lost touch. What about you?”

Finn stiffened. He hadn’t meant for the conversation to swing towards him. But fair was fair. He couldn’t very well expect Rhys to open up if he wasn’t willing to do the same. “My mom left when I was seven. I never knew why – one day she was there, one day she wasn’t. And I already told you about my dad.”

“You said he beat the shit out of you. What happened?” Rhys asked softly.

Finn quickly told him about what had happened between him and Hunter.

“So your dad didn’t know you were gay before that?”

Finn shook his head. “It honestly never occurred to me to tell him. We were so close that I figured he wouldn’t care. I guess reading people has never been my strong suit,” Finn said with a self-deprecating laugh.

“You read me pretty well,” Rhys said. Before Finn could respond, Rhys asked, “What happened after your dad heard about you and the mayor’s son?”

“After Cal fixed everything with the cops, he took me home. My dad and I lived in the foreman’s house – that little one next to ours – and Cal dropped me off and said he’d check back in with me after my dad and I had a chance to talk. I didn’t even get to tell my Dad my side of the story – he just started hitting me the second I walked in the door. Kept calling me a faggot. I guess Cal must have waited outside or something because he was the one who pulled him off of me. I’m not sure what happened after that. Cal doesn’t really talk about it. I woke up in the hospital and Cal told me Dad was gone. I heard he got a job at a ranch in Wyoming, but not really sure.”

They rode in silence for a while before Rhys said, “You can ask me, you know.”

“Ask you what?” Finn said even though he knew.

Rhys snorted and said. “I went to prison for assaulting another cop. My partner.”

“What did he do?”

Rhys shot him a sharp look. “What makes you think
he
did something?”

“Dunno – guess you don’t strike me as the type to go after someone unless you were provoked.” Rhys was silent for a long time, studying him until Finn felt the need to squirm in his saddle.

“He used our personal relationship to sell information on one of my CIs,” Rhys finally said.

“CI?”

“Confidential Informant. I worked Narcotics and busted a kid for possession. Turned out that he’d gotten mixed up with a gang and witnessed the murder of a rival dealer so I worked with the DA to get the kid a deal. The dealer he’d been working for was someone the Feds had been trying to put away for years so they agreed to put him in protective custody until the trial, then Witness Protection.”

“What happened?” Finn asked when Rhys fell silent, seeming to get lost in the past.

“My partner on the force was also my lover. I trusted him one hundred percent so when he came to my place I never even thought to put away the information I had on my CI. Turned out my partner had been working for the dealer for years and he sold the kid’s location to him. The kid, his mother and his protective detail were murdered the day before the trial. The dealer walked away scot free.”

“Fuck,” Finn whispered.

“I was one of only a few people who knew where the kid had been stashed so I knew the leak could have come from me. Tom was the only person in my life that could have been involved so I confronted him. He admitted it. Said no one would believe a rookie cop’s word over someone who’d been on the force for fifteen years. I just wish I’d killed the fucker before they pulled me off of him.” The venom in Rhys’ voice was chilling.

Finn moved his horse closer to Rhys’ so their legs brushed together and that seemed to pull the other man out of the dark place he’d gone. “What happened to him?” Finn asked.

“He spent three weeks in coma. Woke up just in time to watch me get sentenced to four years in prison. He was right – I had no proof and he had a stellar reputation. I ended up taking a plea deal that made it possible to get a sentence that gave me chance at parole. Said all the right things at my parole hearing.”

“How long were you in there for?”