The Lonely Heart (4 page)

It had been a long time since he’d enjoyed a meal that much. Having Isaiah and Josh at the table had almost made him feel like part of a family again.

“Josh is a great kid,” he said awkwardly. The silence was growing and, while Isaiah seemed completely at ease, it was making Grady nervous.

“Yeah, he is.” Isaiah’s lips turned up in that charming half-smile that Grady loved so much. “Smart and stubborn. He’s gonna grow up to be quite a man.”

“How’s he handling his mom’s death?” Grady asked, scrubbing at the sauce stains on a plate.

“Surprisingly well, but I get the feeling they weren’t very close. Josh has spent most of his life at some boarding school.”

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THE LONELY HEART K.M. Mahoney 24

“Wasn’t he a bit young?” Grady couldn’t imagine a mom, any mom, sending a toddler away like that.

Isaiah shrugged, eyes dark with some nameless emotion. “I think so, but I gather it was a special school for kids with disabilities. Guess she thought it was best for him.”

“Still doesn’t seem quite right.”

Silence fell over the kitchen, both of them feeling awkward now. Grady searched for another topic, but his brain seemed to have stuttered to a halt. He handed a plate to Isaiah.

Their fingers met, tangled for a second, and it was all Grady could do to keep from groaning even at that brief touch. Damn, he was pathetic. Grady looked away before Isaiah could see and identify the longing in his eyes.

He cleared his throat. “So, riding lessons,” he said, grasping at the first idea that sprang into his head.

Isaiah grinned. “Yeah. Josh has his heart set on learning to ride.”

“You don’t want to teach him?” Grady asked curiously. He would have thought it would be something Isaiah wanted to do—pass on that kind of knowledge to his little brother.

“There’s plenty I can teach him besides riding a horse. I figure since you usually stick pretty close to the main barns during the day anyway, it would give you two a chance to get to know one another. After all, he’s ours…here. You know.”

Isaiah’s cheeks flushed red as he stumbled over his words. Grady felt a deep sense of pleasure spread through him before he shook it off. Isaiah hadn’t meant it that way, of course. Just a little conversational blip.

“I’ll look forward to it,” Grady said. Damn, he had hoped that wouldn’t sound as awkward and formal out loud as it did in his head.

Isaiah gave him another strange look, the same one he’d been turning on Grady all evening. They finished the rest of the clean-up in silence. Isaiah gathered Josh soon after and they said their good nights.

Grady closed the door and stood there for a minute. He dropped his head forward, thumping it on the wood.

“Stupid,” he cursed himself in a soft voice. “So stupid.” He couldn’t have thought of something to talk about, something to do, to prolong the evening? No, of course not.

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THE LONELY HEART K.M. Mahoney 25

Probably just as well, since apparently he was an anti-social idiot who couldn’t figure out how to hold a decent conversation.

Grady locked up the house and flicked off the lights before trudging upstairs. He fell face-first onto his bed with a groan. He rolled onto his back and grabbed a pillow, yelling into it in pure frustration. For eight endless years he’d watched Isaiah with respect, then admiration, then a confusing turmoil of feelings that had sorted themselves out into something ridiculously like a teenage crush. And just like a teenager, at the first real social opportunity he’d got with the man who starred in most of his dreams, he’d choked.

Grady shoved the pillow aside and climbed off the bed. Maybe jacking off in the shower would help him sleep. It had become a regular part of his routine lately. A depressing one, in some ways because, as usual, he would picture Isaiah there with him.

And, as usual, it was all in his imagination. And very unlikely to ever turn into reality. After all, Grady had been given plenty of time to make his move. If he hadn’t mustered the courage yet, he might as well accept that he never would.

Grady turned the water on full-blast, cranking the knob to damned-near scalding. He stripped, chucking the clothes in the general vicinity of the hamper. He didn’t bother checking to see if he’d hit or missed.

Thick steam enveloped him as he stepped into the shower. He braced his hands on the still chilly tiles, leaning his head forward and letting the water batter at his shoulders and back. He grimaced at the slight prickles of pain, the force of the water pounding away at the knots of tension in his muscles.

When the water went from searing to pleasant, he reached for the soap. The washcloth was scratchy against his skin, pebbling his nipples and sending little ripples along his abdomen. He kept moving lower, wanting, needing, yet reluctant. But, as always, he gave in.

He wrapped the soapy cloth around his cock, keeping the pressure light and steady.

Steam billowed around him, encasing his private world, letting him hide away from reality.

In his imagination, he wasn’t alone in the small shower. Strong arms closed around his waist, the warm body a solid presence behind him. A chin dropped onto his shoulder and that familiar, beloved voice whispered low encouragements in his ear.

“
Let me see
,” the Isaiah in Grady’s imagination ordered gently. “
Show me how much you
want me. I want to see you, see that thick cock harden. See you lose yourself in pleasure as you shoot
your spunk all over the wall. Show me, Grady
.”

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THE LONELY HEART K.M. Mahoney 26

Grady closed his eyes, obeying the voice of his imagined lover. He moaned, the sound low and quiet, almost lost beneath the pounding spray. His shaft was hard and aching under his touch. He dropped the washcloth as the slightly rough texture became too much. Nearly painful. He rubbed over the head of his cock and up the shaft, the skin hot and sensitive. As his hand moved, picking up speed, the calluses on his fingers caught against the delicate skin. The gentle drag sent shivers up his spine and made his balls draw up tight.

“
Show me
.”

Grady could almost hear the words in the water’s thrumming. He tugged one more time, the motion and the imagined words sending him hurtling towards release. Grady bit back a yell, the sensations making his knees go weak. Thick streams of spunk shot over his hand, coating his fingers, the wall, and even his feet when his grip faltered.

Grady breathed through his orgasm, blinking with unseeing eyes at the cracked blue tile around the faucet until his mind started working again.

He sighed, staring at his hand. He lifted it up, watching the water wash all signs of his orgasm away. The brief aura of contentment inspired by his fantasy was washed away just as easily. Grady could almost see it swirling down the drain.

“Goddamn it.” He twisted the faucet off with a sharp motion. The hot water was about gone, anyway.

And he was a shitty liar, especially to himself.

Grady got out, cursing softly as his feet slipped on the ceramic tile. He snagged a towel and dried off with brisk, efficient motions. He wanted out of the bathroom. Now. Away from the scene of the crime, so to speak.

He let the now damp towel drop to the floor and wandered into the connecting bedroom. With another muttered epithet, he flopped facedown onto the bed.

“Grady,” he told the dark blue fabric, “you’re an absolute idiot.”

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THE LONELY HEART K.M. Mahoney 27

The weather was crisp and clear, the sound of horses and cattle amplified in the still morning air. It was pleasant outside, no other people to disturb Grady’s contemplation.

Although he had to admit, maybe he should have grabbed a jacket to go over his sweatshirt.

Each day grew a little colder and the clouds a touch heavier, reminding everyone that winter was on its way.

Grady braced his shoulder against the raw wood post, cradling his third mug of coffee in his hands. Okay, so it was only six in the morning and he was already on caffeine overload. Sleep had been a little hard to come by lately. Nothing new there.

He sipped his coffee, again savouring the quiet from the shelter of his front porch. The ranch was just beginning to stir, the boys rolling out of their bunks with moans, groans and curses. The horses were shifting with the onset of restlessness, eager for their morning feed.

The bunkhouse door slammed and a small figure darted down the stairs. Grady’s lips twitched as he watched the kid bounce across the yard. No caffeine needed for that one.

What Grady wouldn’t do for just a third of that energy.

Isaiah came barrelling out of the door on his brother’s heels, yelling for Josh. The little squirt put on a burst of speed, sneakers smacking the ground rhythmically.

Isaiah caught him halfway across the yard, swooping down and wrapping his arms around Josh’s waist. Isaiah scooped Josh up and mock-tackled him to the accompaniment of childish squeals and laughter.

Damn, but that was a nice sound. Grady’s lips tilted up as he watched the brothers’

antics. Isaiah had Josh tucked against his bigger frame, tickling and teasing. Josh was squirming and trying to break free, giggles ringing out the whole while.

They finished crossing the clearing that separated the bunkhouse from the main house.

Isaiah kept Josh tucked against his side and Grady was struck again by how much the two brothers looked alike. Josh might be small now, but Grady could see the promise of sinewy strength and above-average height. The pair shared the same dark blond hair, with its tendency to stick up at the back. Their straight noses were a touch too large for their lean faces and their chins were slightly pointed.

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THE LONELY HEART K.M. Mahoney 28

And they both had the same smile, wide lips bracketed by deep creases in Isaiah’s case, the remainder of baby fat in Josh’s. Their smiles shone in their eyes, one pair of brown and one pair of green, and softened what could otherwise be stern, overly-sharp features. Once Josh hit the teenage years, they were going to look damn near like twins.

Grady really wanted to jog out to meet them. He longed to get swallowed up in the camaraderie and caring. His throat tightened with rising affection for each of them. He took a deep breath, hiding his expression behind his mug, and reminded himself again that Josh wasn’t his to keep. And neither, as much as he wanted it, was Isaiah.

“Hey, boss. Gonna share?”

Grady looked up. Isaiah stared at Grady’s mug with ill-concealed covetousness.

“I put on another pot before I came out,” he said, pushing away from the post he’d been leaning against. “Should be about ready.”

“I can’t wait that long.”

Isaiah reached over and tugged the mug from Grady’s unresisting hands. Hell, he was too surprised to protest. Isaiah took a deep swallow, moaning in a way that went straight to Grady’s cock. Luckily, Josh was watching his brother and not the suffering ranch owner.

Grady shifted a bit, concealing the bulge in his jeans with the ease of long-standing practice.

Josh tapped Isaiah’s leg and made a face. Isaiah laughed.

“It’s an adult thing, I guess,” Isaiah told Josh with a shrug. “We’ll get you some milk or juice inside.”

Josh didn’t wait for an invitation. He bounced past Grady, tromping footsteps echoing through the house.

Grady took his mug back from Isaiah. There was something incredibly intimate about standing there in the still, chilly morning air sharing a cup of coffee.

“We should probably get inside and make sure the kid doesn’t try to raid the cookie jar for breakfast,” Isaiah said in a low voice. Was it just Grady’s imagination, or were Isaiah’s eyes focused on Grady’s mouth?

Grady concluded a few seconds later that it must have been wishful thinking. Isaiah followed Josh inside without a backwards glance. Grady tossed the dregs from his cup into the nearest bush. Suddenly, a lot of the promise seemed to drain out of the morning. He squared his shoulders and took a deep breath.

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THE LONELY HEART K.M. Mahoney 29

He was doing that a lot lately. If he kept up the deep-breathing habit, he was gonna hyperventilate or something.

The brothers were in the kitchen already. Isaiah had made straight for the coffee pot. He must have moved with Superman’s speed because he already had a cup in his hand and was busy trying to drain it in record time. Josh, for all his pent-up energy, moved a little slower.

He was still pouring milk into his cereal bowl.

Grady’s lips twitched, some of his bad mood leaching away—Josh had found his secret addiction. That was just like a kid. The Fruity Pebbles box sat open on the counter, removed from its hiding spot in the back of the pantry behind the Wheaties. Not that Grady ever ate the Wheaties. They were there for show, to cover up the kid’s cereal box.

“Put the milk away,” Grady reminded Josh. Josh paused, spoon halfway to his mouth and dripping milk off the sides like a white waterfall. He dropped the spoon back into the bowl with a little splash and obeyed before he climbed up on the chair, short legs swinging, and went back to eating with admirable focus.

Grady joined Isaiah at the counter, refilling his own cup. Dang, looked like he was going to need to make another pot. Isaiah had already damn near emptied this one. And in less than five minutes, too. It was impressive.

“You boys must have an industrial-size coffeemaker over there,” Grady teased gently.

“Otherwise you’d wear the thing out in less than a week.”

Isaiah froze, lips plastered to the rim of his cup. He shrugged sheepishly. “We do have one of those twelve-cup ones,” he admitted.