11. Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

Tanner

We sat in my truck, watching the little single-engine Cessna bounce along the aged runway at the Makwa Airport. All five of us were beyond excited to know that soon Key would be among us once again. Bingley was on my lap. The other three sat in the back seats of the king cab, staring at the plane as it taxied to the one and only hangar. To say the Makwa airport was small would be making it sound bigger than it was. The Elmira-Corning airport that we flew out of frequently was small. The Makwa Airport was a lone hangar built in the 50s that housed Tammy Laroque's crop-dusting plane. The same plane that had graciously picked up my man.

"Okay, so one final run of manners," I said to the four canines. Darcy tilted his head and stared at me with one big brown eye. Elinor wiggled with anticipation at what she did not know but she had faith something fun was going to happen. "When we see Key, we do not bark." Elizabeth yipped a high poodle yip. "Right, like that. That is what we don't do. We do not bark at Key. Nor do we bounce, leap, or lick his face when he gets into the truck. Are we clear?"

All four panted. I took that as a yes. Foolish of me for the moment Key exited the terminal—aka the hangar where Tammy parked her plane—my manners talk was for naught. Those dogs nearly turned themselves inside out. I could only chuckle. I felt the same way. It had only been a week since I'd kissed on the man, but a week was too damn long.

"Stay. Sit. Stay. No, Bingley, you sit. Darcy, sit. Sit. S.I.T. Sit. Asses on seats." I spoke firmly, and they sat. Just. Tails were lashing, bottoms were barely on the seats, but I'd take it. I slipped out of the truck. Key spied me, waved, and jogged over the muddy field.

I swept him into my arms, catching his laugh with a kiss that left us both winded and stiff as fireplace pokers. My hands caressed his cheeks, the roughness of his late-day stubble on my fingertips making my breath hitch.

"Damn, it is good to see you," Key breathlessly said, his hands resting on my lower back. "This is going to be a great week. Just you and me."

Someone—Bingley—pawed at the driver's side window. We both looked. Four noses were pressed to the glass.

"They missed you almost as much as I did," I confessed, stealing one more kiss. "I gave them a lecture on dog greeting manners, but they forgot it all when they saw you. Probably it would be less crazed to just let them out instead of trying to let them greet you inside the truck."

The rutted pasture that served at the Makwa runway and airport was empty save for a woodchuck peeking out of his hole a few hundred yards away.

"I missed them too. Let them out. It will be fine," Key said, hoisting his carry-on bag higher on his shoulder.

"Brace yourself." I opened the back door. Three out of four exploded out of the truck. Bingley tried to leap into the back but fell on his face. I reached in to lift up the old dog and cradled him during the melee. Key was close to hysterics with the greeting. The dogs were so happy to see him they ran in circles, leaped into the air like gazelles, and made fools of themselves. Then Darcy spied the woodchuck and the pack took off.

"Guess I'm easy to forget," Key playfully lamented. I passed him Bingley, who washed his face as I whistled for the other three who were trying to dig the woodchuck out of his burrow. Either that or they were trying to reach the Earth's core.

"You are not easy to forget," I assured him. Tammy stepped out of the hangar to wave at us. I lifted a hand and made a mental note to send her a tip. She would send it back with a note saying neighbors helped neighbors here in Makwa, and then I'd send it back saying to donate it to the indigenous peoples' shelter for domestic violence. That she would do. "I've been thinking of you every minute of every day. Oh guys, really?"

The dogs arrived, feet and faces coated with dirt. "This is why I carry towels. Give me a few minutes and we'll roll."

"Take your time. Me and Bingley are reconnecting." I looked over my shoulder while digging in the cloth tote of dog towels I carried to see Bingley snuffling Key's ear as if he were whispering something sweet to the man. I planned to fill Key's ears with love words as soon as we were alone. I had other plans too but thinking of those would make me hard, so I'd stick to love words. And muddy dogs. "Okay, paws and noses, please."

Ten minutes later, the six of us were on our way.

Key was buckled in, smiling, and holding my hand as we bumped along out of the pasture and toward the tiny town of Makwa. Sadly, it was almost dark by the time his plane had landed, so his views of the small village would be hampered. No bright lights per se, just a few streetlights on the block that constituted the heart of Makwa. We passed a small food store, Makwa Mart, where everyone shopped, a bar, Pop's Place, where everyone drank, and a sporting goods store, Tim's Tackle Shop, where everyone bought their ammo and bait. Guns and ammunition were available in Canada but much more strictly regulated than in the States. I did own a rifle, for I did like to hunt when possible, which sadly wasn't often anymore due to my hockey schedule. The gun was also for protection from the critters that roamed the forest where my cabin sat. It was not uncommon to hear wolves baying at the moon here in Quebec. There were also grizzlies, cougars, coyotes, and wolverines. Oh, and polar bears, although they were further north than we were located. Still, plenty of things to chomp a person or dog caught unawares.

"And that was Makwa," I joked as we rolled out of town. Key snickered. "Did you blink and miss it?"

"Almost," he said and squeezed my fingers. "I'll be honest and admit that this is the first time I've been anywhere that had animals that will eat you."

"City boys," I teased. "You'll be fine. Just stay close to me. The dogs will let you know if something is nearby. Most of the time, the wildlife will dart off before you even suspect something was there. They're scared of us."

"I was going to buy bear spray in Makwa."

"Oh, okay, well, Tim's is closed. He has to be home at five for dinner or his wife gets angry. We'll make a run to town tomorrow for you. I packed in lots of food but forgot to buy extra paper towels. We could make a run over to Algonquin Park if you want?"

"To be honest, I'd be happy just hanging out at your cabin for a few days."

"Then that's what we'll do." I lifted his hand to kiss his knuckles. His smile was warm, but his gaze was sleepy. He did look stressed. The fine lines around his pretty brown eyes were much deeper than just a few weeks ago. "When you get bored from watching me fish or drying off wet dogs, just let me know. There's plenty to do around here. Hiking is always fun."

"With that knee?"

"Oh, well, yeah, I forgot. Well, small walks then. Walks, swims, maybe some canoeing. Just us and the wild mob back there." I jerked a thumb toward the dogs in the back, taking Key's hand with me.

"Sounds perfect."

Yeah, it did.

The woods swallowed us up completely. Key's chatter about how he still could not fully believe he was doing this fell off as his sight touched on the Canadian wilds engulfing us. I was happy to drive, with his fingers meshed with mine, and let him drink in the beauty of my country. The air was sweet here, thick with the smell of rich loam and pines, the birds just now settling to roost. The sun was deep in the west, the sky a swatch of purple and black, a few bright planets now showing.

As we drove, the high beams touched on all sorts of wildlife. Whitetail deer, a raccoon darting across the road, and an opossum carrying her young alongside a drive to a camp. Key, lethargic from his mad dash to reach me as well as the stress of being a successful tycoon, smiled softly at the sightings. These animals were nothing new to him, even if he had spent his early childhood in Philly.

We left the main road for a two-lane dirt one. Then we followed that deeper into the woods until it shrank to one lane. With the windows down, we could now smell Makwa Lake. Fog began to filter through the trees, the high beams slicing through the low clouds that gathered on the freshwater lake. There were four camps out this far, three were strictly hunting camps, and then there was mine. We pulled around a crooked oak, the tires crunching over the gravel drive of my second home, for that was how I thought of it.

"Okay, that is damn pretty," Key whispered when we pulled up in front of the A-frame cabin. The lights were on inside, tossing a soft golden glow on the sloping yard that led to the water's edge. I'd strung some fairy lights along the dock just a few hours ago, knowing we'd be spending time out here in the evenings. I wanted the place to be magical for him so he would want to come back. "Bigger than I thought it would be."

"It's pretty spacious. My older summer home was really small, so when I went looking for a new place to hold me and the dogs, I wanted something with some room."

He looked at me, the lights from the dash shining blue green on his face. "Did you buy this place with the hopes of someday bringing a special man here?"

"I did, and I have." I leaned over the console to kiss him. A tender brush of lips that could have led to more but someone in the back had to piddle. The whine was not to be ignored, especially if it had come from Bingley. His bladder control was not what it used to be. "Let's get inside and get you settled. I threw some stew together in the crockpot and have some of those pop-and-bake buns for us to dip with."

Both of our stomachs rumbled. "Guess that's a yes to it all!" Key laughed and patted his flat belly.

The dogs dashed about, smelling and marking territory, as we waited. When they were done, we herded them inside. Key stood in the middle of my living room, bag dangling off his shoulder, a look of pure joy on his face.

"Damn, Tanner, this place is really nice." I preened a bit. I did love it here. The first floor held an open living area/kitchen set up with a utility room/powder room and what the designers called an owner's suite. I had turned what had been the primary bedroom on the first floor into a den to hold all my athletic crap. The second story contained a loft bedroom, which I used, a large bath, and a walk-in closet. A small deck on the front that looked out over the lake and a small patio in the rear. I had plans for an attached garage, but that would be an addition for next summer. He padded to the spiral staircase leading to the second floor. A warm fire crackled in the wood stove in the living room, for ambiance mostly, although with the fog coming in the air got damp, so a little dry air always felt good.

"Mind if I take a peek at the loft?"

"No, of course not. Feel free to unpack. I emptied a drawer for your clothes in the dark cherry dresser." His look said that I had done something big, which I sort of had nickered with myself over for some time after arriving. Yes, making room for his clothes had connotations for sure. I'd stewed over that empty drawer, placing my good tees—and yes, I had a drawer for good tees and scruffy tees—in and out five times until I crammed them in with the scruffy tees and shut the drawer. It was foolish to be anxious over a drawer. He was here on vacation. He'd need to unpack. Simple. Nothing more to it. A few of my exes would call me out on that, saying that they'd have liked a drawer for whatever reason, but I'd been too distant and stubborn about my precious self to offer them one. Actually, it was two exes. I'd only felt this kind of draw with two other men, but even with them, the attraction hadn't been powerful enough to empty drawers. Not that I was clearing drawer space for him at my home. Not that this wasn't my home, for it was. In the summer. In the fall I was in—

Good Lord, Tanner, stop! Not one more mention of the word drawer unless it has to do with stripping Key's off his gorgeous body.

"Cool, thanks." He climbed the stairs and disappeared from view. I thunked myself on the forehead with the heel of my hand. Then I stood there, staring upward, just as he peeked over the railing. "Okay, this is pretty spectacular. I mean, that skylight is amazing!"

"Thanks. I like it here."

"I can see why. I'll toss my clothes into my drawer and be down."

I nodded. He began humming. The dogs followed me into the kitchen area, hoping for a handout. I popped the tube of biscuits, placed them on a cookie sheet, and slid them into the oven. The stew was bubbling slowly in the crockpot, the venison chunks falling apart when I forked them as did the carrots and taters. My belly rumbled. The dogs laid down near the breakfast nook which served as a meal nook for me. I loved sitting in my little corner every morning watching the sun rise while I planned my days. My days generally revolved around fishing and hiking. The hiking was still a push, but I was now doing a slow jog on the treadmill at my sports rehab appointments. The yoga really was helping, although I had missed a class to come here early. Maybe I could get the sexy instructor/gym owner upstairs to give me some personal mat time. My dick twitched at the notion. The timer buzzed, shaking me from dirty yoga thoughts.

I pulled the buttermilk biscuits out, slid them into a wicker basket, and placed that in the center of the table to the left of the salt and pepper shakers. I whistled a little ditty as I set the dishes out, bright blue ceramic plates that Rudy had found at a potter's shop in some Maine resort town he'd visited last year. Rudy had an eye for such things. I'd eat off paper plates forever if I could. Once the table was set, I found some potholders—also gifts from my brother—and carried the navy stoneware liner to the table and set it on a dishtowel. I poured some ice water into the glasses that matched the plates and waited. Five minutes passed. I made my way to the stairs, cocking my head like one of my dogs, to see if I could hear him moving around. Nothing.

"Key, baby, dinner is ready," I softly called. My voice floated upward. No reply. Huh. Maybe he had found the shower. Randy notions popped up in my dirty mind. Curious as to what he was doing, I climbed the circular stairs, my knee reminding me that while it was healing well, it was still healing. I'd overdone for sure. I'd ice it down a bit after we had dinner. Unless we were engaged in hot sweaty downward dog stuff.

I found him sprawled out on my bed, sound asleep, his bag open but full. Looked like no naughty pigeon poses were taking place tonight. Not that I could do a pigeon pose. I was lucky to be able to touch my toes during a forward bend. Flexible I was not. Damn, he looked good in my big bed, though. I crept closer, removed his sneakers, and threw a blanket over him. His face was smoother in rest, the tension furrows on his brow and the tightness around his eyes had eased.

The dogs arrived, toenails clacking, and tags jingling. "Come on, gang, down we go. Let him sleep. He's worn out."

I herded them back down to the kitchen where I ate while reading a queer retelling of "Northanger Abbey" that had been recommended in one of my Austen fan groups on Facebook. After the meal, I fed the dogs, loaded the dishwasher, and clipped the invisible fence collars on the foursome. I let them out to do their business, cup of coffee in hand, as I stood on the back porch watching the dogs fiddle about. The light from the porch was bright enough to view the whole of the back area. It paid to supervise. We'd had more than one run-in with skunks—all Darcy sadly—and did not wish to deal with that again. Also, last summer a porcupine had decided to visit nightly. He chewed through the siding of one of my sheds and then moved onto the hoses under my truck. Two thousand dollars that prickly bugger ended up costing me. I called a wildlife service who came out and live trapped him, saving me from more cost and, worse yet, a run-in with the dogs and the porcupine. I had no doubt that Darcy, the big, loveable goof that he was, would dive into a porcupine.

After I whistled them back, I locked up, checked the fire in the stove, and climbed the stairs. Key was snoring lightly, his arm over his head, his long legs spread. Very naughty thoughts percolated inside my brain, but I was a gentleman. I stripped down to my briefs, eased under the covers, and turned off the light. My knee was sore. I should have taken some ibuprofen before coming up. Now I'd lie here for an hour before having to get up and find the bottle down in the kitchen. Dumb place to keep them. I'd have to bring them up here. Then I'd need them on the first floor. That was life, wasn't it? A log in the stove snapped. One of the dogs was up to drink. An owl hooted nearby, the call coming in through the cracked window facing the water.

Key's warmth seeped through the throw into the bedding, and I wiggled toward it. Even though he was on top of the covers, I could snuggle. So I did. I draped my arm over his back, breathed in his scent, and fell asleep in seconds.

I came awake at dawn to the press of a man slipping closer to me under the covers. Skin to skin, Key wriggled into my side, his lips finding the hinge of my jaw as his hand skimmed down over my belly. I sucked in a sharp breath when he found my rapidly hardening cock through my briefs.

"Morning," he mouthed into my skin, his tongue a hot, wet flick against my ear. I shivered in delight. "Sorry, I fell asleep." Nip to my lobe. "I was going to just lay down for a minute." Kiss to my throat. "I'll eat stew for breakfast." Stroke of my dick through cotton.

"The stew will reheat for dinner," I managed to say before his mouth settled on mine. I cared not one whit about us having morning breath. I was too hot for the man to give a shit. I licked into his mouth as he worked me into a froth with his skilled hand. "Key, I want to suck you off."

"You will, and I'll repay the favor, but right now, I want to ride you hard. I'm happy at playing both positions but seeing you here, in this big bed, looking ready for loving…damn, Tanner, I just want to feel you stretching me wide."

Jesus H. Christ. That sounded amazing. I was vers. I'd take this man anyway I could get him.

"That needs to happen," I growled, tugging on my dick now with fervor. "Lube in the nightstand," I huffed while wiggling free of my underwear after kicking off the covers. He took a moment to rummage in the drawer of the side table.

"Can you move up on the bed?" he asked, working lube over his long fingers until they glistened. I hauled my hairy ass up over the bed and got settled like a man who had never had knee surgery. Any discomfort would soon be forgotten. "Leg okay? Need a pillow?" I shook my head. Right now, the only part of my anatomy that needed attention was my penis. Knee? What's a knee? The man was such a worrier. "There we go." He crawled up onto the bedding, easing a leg over me, and then kneeled there, eyes locked with mine as he reached around to find his hole. My cock twitched as he began working himself open.

"You're a vision," I said, my voice throaty and low. "Let me help." I slipped a hand around him, found his fingers, and slid one of my own in beside the two he had worked inside himself. He was hot and tight around my digit.

"I need your cock in me now," he panted, easing his fingers out. Mine came along with his, and I wiggled my hips eagerly, moving my cock in a circle. His slippery entrance passed over my cockhead. A shiver ran through me. "Okay, we should…shit, okay, this is…" He lifted his ass up, cold air wafted over my nuts. "I'm negative and on PrEP"

"Same, clear medical. Just had surgery. On PrEP as well."

"Okay, cool, good." And with that awkward talk out of the way, Keyshaun sat down on my dick. Slowly, and with an intake of breath that only eased after I pushed past that ring of resistance. "Damnation, you have a fat dick."

I rubbed his sides as he took a moment to adjust. His lower lip pulled between his teeth as his body stretched. I lie still as a statue, my cock enveloped in heat. I was beginning to think he was not enjoying this when that plump lower lip fell free and his hips began to gyrate. Hands splayed on my chest, he moved in slow, sinuous circles, his nails biting into my pecs. Small beads of sweat formed on his brow despite the cool air coming in from the lake.

"You okay?" I asked this time. His heavy lids lifted. He looked punch drunk.

"Oh, Tanner, baby, I am just fine," he replied and lifted himself up an inch or two. The glide down made my brain sputter. "You good?"

"Great. Super good. Key, you need to do that again." And so he did, picking up momentum, his channel gripping me so firmly I was at the brink in no time. "Slow…I'm close."

"Uh-uh, no slowing down now," he panted, his ass slapping my thighs soundly. He arched his back. A yelp broke free from deep within him. His dick spurted hot pearls of cum over my belly and chest. The sight of his cum coating the coarse hairs on my stomach shoved me off the ledge. Using my good leg, I dug my heel into the bed, rocking up, and buried my cock as far into him as I could. My fingers gripped his hips, his cock bouncing and spewing as I pumped every drop of spunk I possessed deep inside him. He fell forward, his body shaking leaflike and damp, his chest on mine. I found his mouth and licked into it as our cocks kicked. Moist air huffed out of us as we sloppily made out, his prick slowly softening, pinned between us while mine continued to pulse.

My hands began to move over his back, rubbing circles on his ribs, then down to where his thighs cinched my hips. I ran my lips over his face, kissing his nose and eyelids, his stubbly cheeks and brow. Then back to his mouth. We lingered there, joined for the longest time, touching and tasting, until he eased off my now flaccid cock. He moved to the side of the bed, taking care of my knee, his back slick with sweat. Mesmerized, I lie there enjoying the play of muscle under his skin while he rose.

"You rest. I'll be right back," he said, giving me a contented smile that made my toes curl in joy. He looked like a very happy man. Knowing that I made him that happy made me an extremely happy man. All I wanted in life was a happy lover, a house full of dogs, and some golden sunsets spent fishing on calm Canadian waters. Looked like I was about to have a week filled with all those things.

The dogs were at the base of the stairs, whining, and no matter how long I wished to lie here, the animals needed attention. As I heaved myself up and out of the warm bed, I recalled something that my surgeon said to me when he'd discharged me. He'd mentioned that having pets was a good thing. It would ensure that I would get up every few hours. And that had panned out. Even though Rudy had been with me to help, having to care for the dogs did indeed get me up and moving which, I assumed, had played a part in my recovery going so well.

"Hey, where you going?" Key called as he exited the bathroom. "I thought we could maybe shower and—"

A plaintive howl rose from the first floor. His eyes flared.

"That's Elinor being a drama queen." My gaze moved over his naked body. I felt a tingle down yonder. Huh, imagine that. A man sneaking up on forty acting like a randy teenager. "Let me take care of the poor, mistreated souls, and then we can take that shower."

"I'll be here," he replied breathily, his hands moving over all that beautiful dark skin. All alone and in need of a backwasher.

I'd not moved that fast since buggering up my knee. The dogs, of course, wanted to sniffle at their leisure while I danced about, naked, in the doorway beseeching them to pee faster. Elizabeth found a toad to pester by the back stairs while Darcy kept glancing at the lake like a long-lost lover. If I ever doubted that he had Lab in him, his love of water would have cleared that doubt. Normally, I'd take my coffee down to the dock and let the water lovers play. Darcy and Elinor would splash about while Bingley and Elizabeth lounged in the morning rays next to my redwood rocker. This morning, though, was not a normal morning. Darcy came inside, but his hangdog look did not go unnoticed. I gave them all extra treats, then darted—or what I now called a dart, which was more of a wobbly old man jog—back upstairs. Key was in the bathroom now, the water running, and I wasted no time heading in to join him. The room was thick with steam. He opened the sliding glass shower door, offered me his wet hand, and pulled me under the stream.

That blowjob I had so desperately wanted to give him took place, awkwardly, since kneeling on the hard tile shower floor was not really advised. We pulled in the shower chair that Rudy had insisted I have at both homes. I hated that damn thing. We'd fought over it every day after my stitches had come out. I'd sooner fall on my head than sit on a plastic stool in the shower like some old doddering coot. Yes, I was bullheaded at times.

But this reason was a good reason. With me sitting on the shower seat, Key could merely stand in front of me and feed me his delicious cock. Inch by inch, I took him until his fat cockhead hit the back of my throat. Then he slowly began fucking my mouth. My lips were stretched to their limits, and my jaw ached. I was in heaven. Gripping his tight ass, I urged him to use my mouth with more speed. He pumped away, fingers now tight to my head until he shot a load down my throat. I swallowed and moaned as his salty spunk filled my mouth.

"Damn, you have mad oral skills," he panted, easing his cock out from between my lips and bowing to kiss me hard and deep. "Let me show you what I can do." He kneeled between my legs, water pounding down over us, and sucked me so well and so artfully that had I not been seated I would have buckled like a rotten floor joist.

"I like vacations," I huffed. He snorted in amusement and eased me to my feet. We kissed until the water in the small heater grew chilly. We hurried to wash and shampoo, exiting the shower just as the cold water was pelting our asses. The first day of our holiday was splendid. Breakfast on the back porch, a simple spread of bagels and coffee, as the dogs wore off some energy. After our fill of onion bagels, we secured the dogs into their crates and hit the big city of Makwa. Tim's Sporting Goods was open, the Canadian flag outside his door snapping in the brisk wind. I bought some new spinner baits and Key found the last can of bear spray.

With his shades resting atop his short curls, he read the can intently as I perused a new reel and rod combo. Not that I needed a new fishing rod, but Key obviously did.

"Okay, so the directions are shit. How long does this last?" Key enquired over the sound of four old men in the front of the shop talking about what colors the speckled trout were hitting this time of year. I had yellow spinners because the fishing gods had whispered to me to buy yellow. I glanced at my man. Yeah, he was now considered my man, even if we'd not officially said it was so. He was all dressed up for a day in the wilds right down to a borrowed camouflage shirt of mine.

"I don't know what you are asking."

He handed me the can. A laugh rolled back from the old men. "It says nothing about reapplying it after swimming."

I held back my guffaw as long as I could, but at his wrinkled brow I sort of lost it. "No, honey, you don't put this on your skin like bug repellent. You spray it in the bear's face."

"Pardon me now?"

"Yeah, you spray the bear, not yourself."

He stared at me as if I had just said romances featuring the ton were garbage. As if.

"That's far too close to a bear for my liking." He placed the can back on the dusty shelf. I had to hug him. How could I not? I pecked his cheek, warm with embarrassment. The old coots quieted for a moment. Let them gawk. When we paid, they watched us with mild interest, trying to gauge how two big, tough guys could be queer. You could see it did not compute for them. "So," Key asked once we were back in the truck. "Is there anything you can wear that will keep bears, and I guess moose since they kill people, from doing bodily harm to me?"

"Uhm, well, a suit of armor might work." He rolled his eyes, then settled his shades back on the bridge of his nose. "Sorry. I'll stop teasing."

A tweak of a smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. "Nah, that's on me. I'm a city boy. So no spray to repel a bear or moose. Got it."

I gave his leg a pat. "I'll keep you safe. Any mad bear or wild moose will have to come through me."

"You're kind of slow with that knee yet."

"My knee is fine. When we get home, I'll show you just how good my knee is."

We spent the next few hours in the lake with the dogs, swimming, playing fetch with a soggy as shit tennis ball, and generally larking about. When we were pruned properly, we climbed up the short ladder to the dock, laid down on beach towels, and let the sun dry us as we napped. The dogs laid down with us. Key's fingers meshed with mine. It was the closest to heaven that this battered puck pusher was likely to find here on Earth.

***

The rest of the week ran along that heavenly path. We drove to Lake Huron for a day, us and the dogs. We visited Algonquin Provincial Park. We lazed around for a few days, fishing and catching nothing but sunfish that we threw back. I got burned on the shoulders. Key got eaten alive by mosquitoes and midges. It was my job to dab calamine on all of his bug bites, which led to us rolling around, grinding on each other, and coated head to toe in pink. The boards of my dock would be rose-toned for months, and that was just fine. On our last night, we decided to stay home, cook out, and just be. Both of us had maintained a very low social media presence while gone. I'd shared two pictures on IG with Key and myself walking in the woods—no bears were spotted—and a shot of a cow moose and her calf taken the morning after our trip to Lake Huron. I used only two hashtags: #lifeisgood #ocanada

We'd spread some towels out on the still warm dock, stripped down to our birthday suits, and dared the bugs to find us. They did, and in rapid order. So we fired up the citronella candles, laid down, curled around each other, and gazed at the stars so clear and bright.

"I never thought of myself as outdoorsy other than a run through a well-tended park, but I have to say this life is really appealing," Key said, his voice sleepy and soft. "My dad used to try to take us kids fishing all the time. Said we'd catch catfish as big as him in the Delaware River, but we never wanted to go. Sounded boring to us and buggy." His fingers lay on my belly, moving in torpid circles over the rough curls of dark hair. "I wish I'd gone now."

"All of us look back after a loved one passes and wish we'd spent more time with them. You were a child, Key. Don't be hard on yourself. I did the same thing, turned my folks down when they proposed something they thought was fun. Then they died, six months apart, when Rudy was in college. Suddenly those shopping trips to the mall with Mom seemed like great ideas."

"I know it's just…" His body was like putty resting on mine, half on and half off, Bingley curled up behind him as the other dogs snoozed away in a triangle of protection around us. "I guess I'm just feeling my emotions. I think Dad would have liked you. Uncle Devon does and he and Dad were two peas in a pod."

"How did you end up in Watkins Glen?" My fingers moved over his smooth, bare back.

"Uncle Devon lived here. He'd moved out of Philly years before to work at the salt factory. Became a shift supervisor and then shift manager. When Dad passed, Mama was left with three kids, a massive hospital bill, and no way out. Uncle Devon had a rental property and moved us up, rent-free, so he could help Mama and us kids."

"Wow, that's pretty giving of him."

"Yeah, he is a good man. Took us on as his own. Loved us when we did good, corrected us when we did bad. He was firm in the belief that young Black children—boys especially—needed good fatherly influence. And since our father was gone, he would do his best to fill the void. He never married. Hell, I don't even recall ever seeing him with a girlfriend. Seems his whole life has been spent with Mama trying to make her happy."

"He does. You can see that when they look at each other."

His fingers stalled on my stomach. "I've been wondering…"

"About what?"

"Nothing. Just my head being busy." He sat up, looked back at me lying on the dock like a dead fish, and touched my cheek. "I hope you never shave any of this off."

"It's getting scraggly again. I should neaten it up a bit."

"Don't neaten too much. I like the way it feels when we kiss."

"Oh yeah? I seem to be having memory issues. Probably too many knocks to the bean. It's been at least an hour since your lips were on mine. Remind me of what kissing you feels like."

He chuckled warmly, spread himself over me, and slid his tongue into my mouth. His lips held the rich flavor of the mixed berry pie we'd had for dessert after our steaks and grilled potatoes. There was nothing more dear to me than Keyshaun. That elated and terrified me.

"I think I may have fallen in love with you," I meekly confessed when the kiss ended.

"You scared of that?"

"A little."

"I'm a little scared too."

"There are no bears nearby. I don't think." The dogs were chill, so yeah, no bears. They'd let us know.

"I'm not scared of bears. Well, okay, I am a little, but the scare I'm talking about is how deeply in love I am with you, Tanner."

I slid my fingers around his neck and eased him back down for another long, tender kiss that led us to the big bed in the loft, where we showed each other just how much we cared well into the night.

Afterward, when Key was sleeping at my side and the dogs were dozing peacefully, I offered a small prayer to the gods who lived in these boreal woods to thank them for this place and the man who meant so much to me. I felt much like Ms. Austen had described in Pride and Prejudice . My heart did whisper that he had done it for me as well.