8. Heath

Chapter 8

Heath

T he ride to the brewery isn’t long, but it’s enough time for me to wonder if I can ask Marko to take me for another ride.

There’s nothing about this I don’t like.

The thrill of open air rushing by was scary at first. Logically, I knew the wind wouldn’t pull me off, but the adrenaline rush that it could, lingered. The rumble of a powerful engine beneath me, controlled by the man I’m clinging to, also makes my heart kick up a notch. At first, I wasn’t sure if I should hold on to Marko, but he told me it was fine and he wanted me to feel safe and not scared. Which definitely made me feel better about being on the bike. I had these little handle things I could also hold to stay on, but that didn’t feel right to me.

I can’t explain it, but as soon as I wrapped my arms around him, I felt… aware. Aware of him in a way that was new. And when he shifted gears… whoa. It was heady to sort of feel him channel the confidence of riding this machine through me. Like I said, I was very aware of Marko.

And I don’t know what to make of that. I was just a passenger on his bike, but it felt like I was part of a secret. I don’t know what the secret is, but the entire experience made me feel like I was special .

When we parked at the brewery, he told me to wait until he gave his signal before I got off the bike. He killed the engine and steadied the kickstand before tapping my leg and I slid off from behind him, much like I would if I got off a horse. My hands shook as I fumbled with the helmet’s buckle because I was still so amped up from the ride. Marko noticed and brought his hands up to help.

Once unbuckled, I pulled off my helmet to find him waiting with my ball cap and an expectant smile.

“Well, country boy? Did you enjoy your first ride on a motorcycle?”

Marko's accent sounds thicker and rumbly. He rubs a hand through his short dark hair, and I’m distracted again by the ink on his arms. Jesus. He’s incredible.

“It was amazing, and I’m probably going to ask you to take me again.”

His answering smile makes me feel all floaty. Kinda like that time I took one too many painkillers after I had my wisdom teeth pulled. Nothing hurt, but man, did I ever feel like I was walking on air.

“Anytime. Just ask. I love riding.”

Marko secures the helmets to the bike, retrieves a small backpack from the saddlebag and throws in on his back.

“What did you bring?”

Holding the door open to the brewery, we step inside to pick up our lunch for the afternoon. I wave at Zane, who signals for me to wait, and I turn to Marko.

I’m not sure why, but his olive skin looks pinkish. Marko rubs at his neck. My gaze follows his tattooed arm up to his fingers that now disappear into the hair at the base of his neck. He must work out. That arm is fine. I should ask .

“Um…it’s just a sketch pad and pencils. You said it was pretty here, so I came prepared.” His lips tilt in a shy smile. “Artist, remember?”

“Hi, guys!” Zane appears with a cooler backpack and passes it to me. “Everything is in the bag for your lunch, and there’s a blanket strapped to the bottom. Just bring back the garbage and toss it out inside when you return.”

Taking the bag from Zane, I motion to Marko.

“Thanks. Zane, this is Marko. He’s the owner of Dark Horse Tattoos. Marko, this is one of my ranch friends. He and his husband often feed me supper.” I laugh and Zane sticks out his hand to Marko. “He’s also one of the owners here.”

Marko takes Zane’s hand and greets him with kisses to the cheek like he did me. Zane, ever gracious, takes it in stride and just asks him where he’s from.

“Oh, Croatia. I’ve been in Canada since I was a teenager, but sometimes the instinct takes over and I greet people like I was taught growing up.”

“I’ve always wanted to go there. Heath says you miss the lavender, and he offered to show you ours. I hope you love it.” Zane turns to me with a grin. “Matts and Jake are away this weekend. You’ll be safe out there.” He chuckles as he turns back to the bar. “Have fun, and it was nice to meet you, Marko.”

Shouldering our picnic pack, Marko follows me out and we start the walk to the trailhead.

“Why should we worry about Matts and Jake?”

Laughing, I explain how Matts planted the garden as a gift to Jake because he has a weird hang-up with lavender and it makes him horny .

“Sometimes the guys find them getting freaky and it’s always a joke to friends. They don’t actually do anything in public. Since the brewery opened these gardens to the public, if they want to do it amongst the lavender, they actually give warning and close the paths.”

Marko huffs a laugh. “I would never have pegged Jacob for someone like that. And they like to have sex outside here?”

The word sex coming from Marko sounds like sin with his hard accent, and I shiver. Must be the sun going behind the clouds. Or maybe I should have peed before we left.

“I was told it only happened once.”

Marko’s deep laugh pulls my lips into a smile.

“I doubt that very much, Heath. When the mood strikes, you just do it.”

Swallowing hard, I push those images from my mind. Is that what Marko does? Just does it? Oh my god, why am I thinking about him having sex?!

Clearing my throat, I point to the other path before we ascend the hill.

“The community garden plots are down that way. If you ever feel the need to plant your own produce, you can rent a square or you volunteer your time to the garden upkeep in exchange.”

“That’s a cool idea. One day I’ll try a garden. I’m not much of a gardener, but I’d like to landscape my backyard one day. That seems like it might be easier than growing food.”

“You totally should. That pond has potential. I can help you if you do it.”

Marko cuts a glance my way and nods with a murmured thank you .

The summit to the start of the trail is only a few hundred meters, and when we reach the top, our first stop is the largest of the lavender gardens on the trails. Turning to Marko, I point.

“Here’s the first—and biggest—one. There are, I think, three kinds of lavender in this garden. There should be markers in there to tell you.”

Marko steps up to read the dedication sign that’s for Jacob before stepping into the garden and following the paver stones. If you follow the path, all the lavender plants surround you as you go farther in. Marko pauses in the centre and roots around in his bag, pulling out a sketch pad and a pencil.

I stand behind and watch as his mammoth tattooed hand grips the pencil and flies over the paper. A small breeze flutters his ebony hair and he swipes it out of his face. The noon sun isn’t here yet, but it’s growing warm and there’s a sheen of sweat on his forehead.

And again, I’m watching him with something new. There’s this different feeling tickling along my spine. Marko loses himself to his sketching and I’m lost to watching him while he creates another work of art. It’s kind of cool that I get to see him in action like this. I’ve never known an artist before.

At least not this kind. Art before Marko was me and Zane making happy faces in the snow with our feet. Or me peeing my name in a snowbank. Which is harder than you’d think, and my cursive is stellar.

His brown eyes raise to find mine and his gaze softens, but he continues to sketch for a moment before finally closing the pad.

“ Oprosti .” He shakes his head with a huff. “Sorry, I mean. Sometimes I get carried away. This place is gorgeous. Thank you for bringing me. ”

“Of course. Anytime. There’re a few smaller gardens along the way still.”

My tongue doesn’t want to move as Marko falls into step beside me again–which is odd because I talk a lot–and we continue along the path. I usually talk too much. But right now, there’s a vibe going on, and it demands silence. Silence is hard for me, but it feels kinda good as we walk the path together.

The next garden is one full of orange and yellow daylilies, tiger lilies, and hostas. Easy maintenance growers for out here and plants that the animals leave alone.

Marko takes photos and shoots me an apologetic smile as he once again pulls out his sketchbook and pencils. I wish there was something that ignited this type of passion in me, like his sketching does for him. I’m passionate about the animals we rescue and care for, but I don’t stop dead in my tracks over them. Not like how Marko focuses on his sketch and sometimes pokes his tongue to the side of his lips.

I have got to stop staring at the guy.

Finding a rock nearby, I sit and watch the butterflies. I love how butterflies just fly around looking pretty. Sure, they have a job to do out here, but they look so pretty doing it. But they also have really brief lives and that makes me sad.

When I look up next, Marko has his hands in his pockets and has moved closer to me. I didn’t even notice.

“This place is so peaceful, Heath. I love it here. I can’t wait to see where you plan to have lunch.”

Pushing off the rock, I grin. “You’re gonna love it.”

With the summer breeze rustling the tree leaves, we continue on the path. Our feet crunch the gravel, and the songbirds provide a soothing melody around us. It’s been a while since I’ve been out here, and I’ve forgotten how much I enjoy it.

“So, what brought you to live here in Bloomburg?” Marko’s voice breaks through my daydream. “Did you grow up here?”

It’s been a long time since someone asked me that question. It’s the only question I ever hesitate to answer. I can talk about the ranch and animals all day long, but to talk about myself? Nope.

“Sort of.” Risking a glance his way, I find Marko watching me. “Do you want the long or short story?”

“I think there’s time for the long version, don’t you?”

There is. Normally I answer with the most vague and boring answer I can. I don’t like the questions or pity that sometimes come with my honest answer. But with Marko, I feel like he wouldn’t judge me. He makes me feel safe and like I’m someone who belongs. Someone worthy.

“Well, it’s not a pretty story. I grew up here, but it wasn’t great.” Puffing out a breath, I swallow. “My mom was into drugs and I never knew my dad. I took care of myself as much as I could. Mom was…well, an addict and not much of a mom, you know? She tried. I don’t hate her or anything. But I couldn’t help her beat it.” Tears prick in my eyes. I’ll never shake the guilt. If only I could have done more, maybe things would be different, and she might still be here. “Anyway, she died when I was sixteen and I fell into a rough crowd after that.”

Glancing at Marko, I notice him listening, soft eyes fixed on me, and I decide to continue.

“I was arrested for joyriding. That’s a funny story on its own.” I snort. If you can’t laugh at yourself in your darkest hour, you might just stay in the dark forever. Thankfully, I’m an eternal optimist. Getting caught was the best thing to happen to me. “The judge sent me to juvenile detention and when I got out, Dan found me.”

“Who’s Dan?”

There’s no simple way to explain who Dan is to someone new here.

“Dan owns the Broken Horn Ranch. He’s been like a father to me. He gave me a job and once my time at the halfway house was up, he offered me a place to stay.” My nose burns a little because sometimes it’s hard to talk about all this, but with Marko, I feel a little lighter after telling him. Like he understands it more than someone else would. Which is an odd feeling to have with someone I’ve just met.

“Ah, the same one who looks after your car. You mentioned him before. He sounds like a great guy.”

Marko’s tone is warm, and I sneak a glance to find him smiling at me.

“They all are. The guys at the ranch are the best people you’ll ever meet, and I consider them family. And Jeff, of course.”

We both chuckle, but it’s true. That bird is part of me.

We crest a small hill and I sweep a hand in front of us as the open meadow comes into view.

“This is it. Our lunch spot.”

I watch Marko’s face as it lights up. The crinkles deepen at the corners of his eyes, and the bit of dimple he has peeks over the edge of his beard. Funny how I’ve never noticed dimples before, and his are barely there.

“Heath, this is… so beautiful.”

Marko’s voice is laced with the same appreciation I feel for any of nature’s wonders. My chest puffs, knowing I made a great choice by bringing him here.

Finding a patch of grass in the shade, I crouch to spread out the blanket before laying on it and stretching out. As I figured he would, Marko heads off to the lavender garden. This one is smaller, but it’s plunked right in the middle of a field of wildflowers. Buttercups, daisies, wild roses, and flowers I don’t even know the names of surround a raised lavender garden.

Matts said it’s a place to meditate and find peace, and I agree. It also smells great.

Unpacking the lunches, I place them on the blanket and wait to eat until Marko comes back. Zane left a sticky note with our names on each box, and I leave the drinks inside the bag to stay chilled longer.

Marko doesn’t sketch this time and returns quickly, plopping himself onto the blanket and rubbing his stomach with a grin.

“I’m too hungry to get lost in a sketch. What are we having?”

My cheeks heat and I sort of wish I didn’t go through this trouble, but Zane assured me it was a kind gesture.

“I, uh…” Clearing my throat, I point to his small brown box. “I looked up some food from the island you talked about. Hvar, you called it.”

Marko’s lips part and before he can say anything, I just want to spit it all out first.

“When you talked about it, you just looked really happy and I enjoy making people happy. So I tracked down these sugared almonds that might be close to what you’d find at the open markets there. And Zane made the cookies filled with the walnut paste. I wanted to get you a lamb sandwich but couldn’t get that on short notice.”

Marko opens the lunch box to find the Croatian treats he mentioned enjoying while his family vacationed, and he’s quiet as he pokes around. The longer he remains silent, the bigger the knot in my guts grows.

“Do you like it?” I finally whisper because I just wanted to make him happy, not silent and gloomy. He does the broody look well, but it’s more of his smiles I want to see.

“Yes, Heath. Very much.” His voice has a huskiness that wasn’t there before, but he smiles at me as he tastes an almond. “These are great. Not quite exact but close enough. You did good. Thank you.”

“Yeah?” My grin grows with his praise and my gut settles.

He grins back. “Yeah. Real good, Heath.”

Fuck if my insides don’t combust with his words and seal of approval. I’m always trying to please people, but this time it feels a little more special. Something that sits a little warmer in my chest.

“Here, try one.”

Marko leans over and rather than take the almond like a normal person with my hand, I part my lips. His brows scrunch, but he places the almond at my lips and I close them together, pulling it into my mouth.

I crunch and lick my lips. “Those are great! I can see why you like them so much.”

Marko stares at me with an expression I can’t quite read.

“Yeah, they’re common, but what makes them so good is that even though they’re at every market and you might see them every day…you appreciate them.” He clears his throat and turns his attention back to the garden.

I stare at my lunch, unsure of what I’m feeling.

“Do you mind if I sketch a bit more before we head back?”

“Gosh, no! Sketch all you want.”

Marko strolls through the gardens, stopping here and there, and all I can think about is how easy it is to be with him. It’s a different kind of easy. Not like with the guys at the ranch. With Marko, I feel a happiness I don’t get from goofing off in the barns with Dante.

It’s like a fuzzy happiness. Like a baby duck, maybe? Nah, that’s not right either.

Whatever it is, he sure makes me smile and I already smile a lot, so that’s saying something.

***

“Thanks for taking the long way home.” I shake my hair out before placing my ball cap back on. Marko settles my helmet on the bike alongside his.

“You seemed like you wanted a longer ride, but I know you still have to get home to Jeff.”

Marko stuffs his hands in his pockets, and I do the same. He’s right. I need to see Jeff. Hopefully, he hasn’t torn apart his coop in anger. He’s done it before.

“Um, yeah. It’s not fair to him. But thank you for coming today. I had a great time. It’s neat to watch an artist do their thing live.”

Marko laughs and dips his head .

“Thank you for the invite. It was an amazing afternoon. Beautiful scenery.” He pauses and his gaze finds mine. “And amazing company.”

I pull my keys out of my pocket, smiling at his compliment. “Be grateful I didn’t babble like I always do. I enjoyed watching you draw, and that seemed like something I should be quiet for.”

“I don’t need quiet to draw. I like your voice.”

“Thank you. I don’t think anyone has ever said that to me.”

Silence hangs, and this weird energy sensation coats my skin. Like invisible goosebumps.

Marko clears his throat.

“I was wondering if maybe next Wednesday you’d like to take a longer ride with me? I usually ride alone, but today it felt nice to have a rider. If you can leave Jeff again, that is.”

“Oh. Yeah. I mean…I’d love to ride again. And Jeff isn’t always an asshole.”

Marko's eyes crinkle at the edges as he laughs. The smile grows on Marko’s face, and that tingly, fuzzy feeling is all over my skin again.

“Really? I mean, great! How about I pick you up at the ranch next time?”

“That would be great! Next Wednesday then.”

“Yes. Noon?”

My phone goes off in my pants and I slap a hand to my chest. Marko laughs at my reaction as I silence the phone and check the screen.

“Shit. It’s Dante. Jeff did some damage. I guess he chose asshole bird today. ”

As I slide my phone back into my pocket, Marko nods. “I’ll see you next week.”

I wave as I jog the few steps over to my car. Once I’m behind the wheel, I look up to find Marko still watching me. I wave again as I pull away and rub at the weird ache in my chest.