The Farmer's Son

Chapter 37 Living and Dying With the Choices I Made

Gently, barely felt fingers stroked Alan's cheek, following the line of his jaw up to trace the curve of his ear. Alan's palm came to rest naturally at the curve of Ray's waist, caressing up the firm obliques through the soft t-shirt. Their lashes lowered. A breath passed between them, scenting the air with bourbon. And then Ray leaned in.

Ray's hand slid up behind Alan's ear to cup his nape and hold him as their mouths met. Parted lips let hot breaths and eager tongues knot together, while their hips moved towards each other, and torsos connected solidly. Alan rolled onto his back and Ray rolled with him, moving on top, one knee wedged between Alan's legs. Alan accepted the weight on his pelvis with a throaty moan, one hand behind Ray's head, the other at Ray's waist. His chin and knees came up while Ray bared down, rocking slightly on top of him.

But as suddenly as it started, it ended. One second his nose was filled with Ray's scent, the taste of Ray on his tongue, and the next they were gone as Ray abruptly broke the kiss.

Out of breath and dizzy from heat, inner and outer, Alan's eyes fluttered open to look up at Ray. "Ray?" he murmured.

Looking down into Alan's sugar-colored irises, clear and glittering in the lamplight, filled with the promise of something wonderful, open and receptive to whatever Ray had to offer, Ray's own expression froze, eyes wide with something like fear.

"I'm sorry," Ray panted. "I can't."

"You could have fooled me," Alan panted back.

Rolling off Alan, Ray sat up at the edge of the bed. "Sorry," he said again, brushing a hand over his mouth. "It's just..." He turned to Alan, and his gaze skimmed over the dresser against the wall, where the faded brown felt cowboy hat lay, unintrusive in appearance but not in meaning.

It wasn't a long look, but it was enough to make Alan, sitting up beside him, follow his line of sight. "Right," Alan said bitterly, pushing off from the bed. "Got it."

"No, you don't got it," Ray said, reaching out and catching hold of Alan's wrist to stop him. "It's not him. I'm over Joel."

"Yeah, well, that hat says otherwise," Alan said, trying to tug his arm free.

"Don't listen to the hat, listen to me, damnit," Ray said. With one hard pull he yanked Alan back on the bed beside him. "Please."

Falling back heavily on the mattress, Alan jerked his hand out of Ray's but remained sitting. "I'm listening," he said sullenly.

Ray took a deep breath, frowning as he figured it out for himself first. "I am over Joel," he began. "But kissing you made me feel this sense of déjà vu. And I realized this was all wrong."

Alan shot to his feet.

Once again Ray grabbed and pulled him back down. "I didn't mean us," he said, losing patience himself. "I meant the whole situation. My affair with Joel wasn't that long ago, and I may be over him, but the decisions I made—the mistakes I made," he amended, dropping his gaze, "are why I'm here. It worked out for me this time: I met you." Blue eyes lifted to meet Alan's. "But I don't want to make them again. I've been lucky a lot in my life, but I can't count on my luck forever. At some point I have to start making better choices."

"And that means not being with me?"

"For now, yes. Alan—" Ray stood as Alan once more shot to his feet. "Tell me I'm wrong, Alan," Ray said. "Tell me I'm not in the same situation I was in with Joel."

"You're not!" Alan fairly shouted, whipping around to face him. "I'm not married!"

"But I'm still living in another man's house," Ray said, his own voice rising. "Your house, about to start a relationship with you. And if this doesn't work out, where does that leave me? The only things I own are on my back and in my bag. It's not something I thought about with Joel, but it matters to me what kind of future I have to offer to the person I love, and right now I don't have a future to offer you!"