Those words played and replayed in his head as he drove to Dallas, picked up Jake’s phone, and returned to his truck, where he waited in the parking lot before turning on the engine. Was he in love? How would he even know? Sure he wanted Jake, but was Jake over his ex? Was he ready to commit?
He started the truck and drove home. Shea couldn’t imagine ever getting tired of making love to Jake. After their night together, he knew he needed more. Jake had awakened something inside him he hadn’t known existed. Something more than sexual.
Something like love.
Jake wasn’t like other people he’d met from New York or LA, who bragged about their houses and name-dropped constantly. Jake’s casual disregard for his looks and status made him even more desirable. Maybe it was odd, considering his modeling career, but his father had always cautioned him: the real measure of a man wasn’t how they took care of themselves, but of others. And Jake was a tender and considerate lover, taking him to the brink of ecstasy every time they made love.
He pulled into the driveway and cut the engine but remained seated, forehead pressed to the wheel.
“Daddy, I wish I knew the right thing to do.”
“You follow your heart, son. It ain’t never steered you wrong.”
With Jake’s phone in his hand, Shea went in search of him. He passed by Terry and Patty sitting in the rocking chairs on the back porch, laughing and sipping iced tea in the shade. Shea was thrilled Patty had found a woman friend, and he knew she’d miss Terry something terrible when they left.
“Howdy, ladies.” He stood at the bottom of the steps.
“Oh good, you’re home.” Patty set her glass down. “Not too much traffic, I guess?”
“Yep. No problem. Do you know where Jake is? I want to give him the phone.”
“He took Stacey to the back field. Said he wanted to work out a little.” Terry laughed. “Stacey went with him with her jump rope. I think she wanted to exercise along with him. She was so cute.”
As anxious as he was to get to Jake, Shea was curious to know if Stacey had continued to speak this morning.
“How was she today? Is she still speaking?”
“No,” Terry said. “But I know Jake was planning on calling the doctor today.”
Patty picked up the conversation. “I told him he could use the phone here after breakfast, but he said that with the one-hour time difference, her office wouldn’t be open until noon our time, so he might be waitin’ on you.”
He gave them both a smile. “Then I’ll go find him. Afternoon, ladies.” He touched his fingers to the brim of his hat and continued on the path to the field behind the small gym they’d set up for guests who wanted to work out in the fresh air. He turned the corner and stopped short.
Jake had taken off his shirt and was lifting weights, dressed in only a thin pair of gym shorts. Sunlight gleamed off the sheen of sweat across his back, and Shea’s mouth dried at the sight of all that bare, rippling skin. The tight, black shorts clung to Jake’s firm, round ass, and Shea wished he could drop to the ground and worship its beauty.
Lord have mercy, I’ve died and gone to heaven.
Movement to the side caught his eye. Stacey was kicking a soccer ball, and Kiss was chasing after it and nosing the ball across the grass to her. The dog would sit and bark until Stacey kicked it again.
Shea sauntered over to Jake and waited until he set the weights down to put a hand on his nape. “I’m back,” he murmured in his ear. “Miss me?”
A shiver ran through Jake, and Shea loved how he responded to his touch. This wasn’t the same buttoned-up Jake he’d seen at his office, although Shea did love seeing him in one of his sleek power suits almost as much as seeing him half-naked and sweaty.
“Hi. That wasn’t too bad. I’m glad.” After wiping his face, underarms, and chest with a towel, he turned around. “Thank you for doing this,” he said softly. “I really appreciate it.”
“Do you, now?”
“Yeah, I really do.” Jake moved a step closer. “I’ve been thinking of a way to make it up to you.” A teasing light glowed in those cool green eyes.
Shea stifled a groan of frustration. “I know how.” He brushed the angular line of Jake’s cheekbone, feeling the sandpapery