8. Dutton

Dutton

T he crew is here today, finishing up the hot tub—well, the digging part. There's still a good amount of work to be done, but I can already tell I'm going to love it as they start to work on the finer details.

And then of course, I can't seem to stop watching one particular member of the crew. I was so hesitant to go to Hayes Days and be around what appeared to be the entire small town, but they all seemed so lovely, honestly. They were kind and courteous, saying hello to me and nodding to Walker. Asking him about his grandma, and if she still had kittens she needed to re-home.

It's very clear Walker is a staple in Hayes, but it didn't feel strange being at his side. And as far as I know, no one seemed to have a problem with me being there. Not like anything happened or that it would—no, I'm his client, and he works for me. That would be wrong.

Right?

Yes. Of course. Wrong.

But I can't deny when we were sitting at the café together after the dance, there was a moment where it felt like a date. Like a real date, and I haven't been on one of those for a long time.

I miss it. I didn't think it would be possible here, with me being an out and proud gay man—who also doesn't want to be subject to any ruthless, ignorant hate. But watching Oakley and his soon-to-be husband dancing the other night—I don't know. It kind of gave me hope.

Even if I can't date Walker—not that he wants to, anyway.

"What are you doing next weekend?" His question and he himself seem to come out of nowhere, and I actually startle a little. When did he sidle up next to me? I was just ogling him a second ago.

I blink and turn to him, watching as a slow, lazy smile takes over his entire face. "What?" I ask because I'm in a daze, just looking at his way too handsome face.

"Do you have plans next Saturday?" The smug bastard looks awfully amused, and I shake my head, trying to shake the daze away.

"No. Why? Dancing in the street again?" I have to admit that was really fun and freeing in a way. No one seemed to care who was dancing with whom.

"Nah. It's the Fall Fest! Hayrides, pumpkins, corn mazes. Apple picking. It's a blast. You have to go. It's the epitome of fall in Kansas."

I can't help smiling at how pumped up he is by all this. He's kind of like a little kid—except he's totally grown. I swallow hard, thinking about his sculpted chest dusted in neatly trimmed hair. Shit. No.

Friends. I think that's allowed. But dating? No.

"I'll think about it," I say because there's a huge part of me that wants to go, but I'm not sure it's a good idea. It does sound very Kansas, and I do love that I can already feel the crispness of fall in the air, even though it won't officially be fall until next week.

"Good." He looks happy, and I can't help that him being happy seems to make me happy.

Okay, so maybe I have a teeny tiny little crush on my landscaper. It's totally fine. I'm not worried.

Not at all.

O f course I show up at the fall festival. I can't seem to say no to Walker, even when I know I should probably be running far away. I've been in too many relationships I knew couldn't last, and here I go again.

And he's here, talking to a big group of people because of course he is. He seems to know the entire town, and they know him too. But when he sees me, our eyes lock, and he gives me the biggest smile, which sends butterflies through my belly.

Oh no. This is not good. I have it bad.

He struts over to me, wearing faded jeans and a flannel shirt that looks far too sexy on him, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He left it unbuttoned and has a white undershirt that clings to all his well-earned muscles.

Play it cool, Dutton. You work with models for a living. This is nothing you haven't seen before. Or you used to.

I guess I could talk Walker into doing a photoshoot. Who wouldn't want a real-life lumberjack type for their next book cover or editorial?

"You made it!" He's so happy I'm here, all lit up, and it makes me feel the same.

"I did." I look around at all the fall-themed things. It's chilly today but not freezing cold. A stark contrast to just last week, when it was in the high eighties almost every day. "This looks fun," I say honestly.

And again, his entire face lights up. The guy could be really intimidating just because of his massive size, but when he smiles, there's nothing but happiness coming from him.

I'm not sure I've ever met anyone like this before. "Hayride?" He points to a trailer attached to a tractor that has several hay bales lined up on top. I'm guessing that's where we'll sit. "Okay. Sounds good."

He doesn't hesitate taking my hand and leading me to the trailer, where an older gentleman dressed similarly to Walker is letting people climb up the steps, one at a time, to sit on the hay.

I follow Walker, and we get a seat in the middle. When the guy starts up the tractor and takes off, I jolt into Walker's side from the force of it, but he doesn't seem bothered by that at all, just wrapping one strong arm around my waist and holding me steady. "It's a little bumpy."

All I can feel is his strong body up against mine, though, as we ride along a pumpkin patch.

I turn my head, speaking into his ear, keeping my voice low. "What if your boss is here and sees us like this?"

"Oh, Oakley is for sure here," he says with a grin and a shrug of his shoulders. "But he didn't seem to mind me inviting you to the street dance. I think he'll be fine with this."

I want to ask him what exactly this is, but I'm afraid to. Maybe Walker is just really nice and super affectionate. It may feel like a date to me, but to him, it's probably just being friendly to the new guy in town.

"Hey, Joe, can you stop here?" he yells to the driver, and the whole thing stops.

"Sure thing, Walker." See? He knows everyone. I kind of wonder what that's like, honestly. I don't even know my neighbors at my apartment, let alone in my city.

"What are we doing?" I ask as he takes my hand and leads me past all the people who remain sitting.

"We have to grab a pumpkin. Don't worry, there'll be another ride along shortly." He heads down the stairs, and I follow, him taking my hand, yet again, to help me down and onto the dirt below.

I look around at all the pumpkins and smile at him as the tractor pulls away. "Halloween is a month away. Won't they go bad before then?"

He just waves me off, not a care in the world. "Then we'll just have to get more." He's looking around at the pumpkins, taking this far too seriously, but I have to admit it's really cute.

"Halloween fan?"

"Fall fan." He grins and picks up a perfectly round pumpkin. "I love all things fall. After this, we have to go through the corn maze. I'm pretty good at it."

I laugh and pick out a pumpkin, lifting it in my arms. "Do they give you a medal and everything?" I tease.

He's still beaming. "I don't need a medal. My mom tells me I'm the best."

That makes me chuckle and shake my head as we continue to walk, not in any direction, per se, just strolling along with bigass pumpkins in our arms. "Are you close with your parents?"

Is that something a friend would ask? Sure. I think so. Hell, I don't know. "Yeah. They live out in the country, kind of close to your place, actually. But they haven't retired yet."

"What do they do?"

"My mom's a teacher. My dad owns the hardware store in town."

Of course. That's the most Kansas thing I've ever heard, and here I am, smiling again. "What about your folks?"

"My mom works in design, and my dad does something with computers. I'm not really sure, I zone out whenever he talks about it." That makes him laugh. "But we're close. They're good parents."

He stops walking. "Miss them?"

I shrug because I do, but we weren't the see each other every week for dinner type either. We'd sometimes go months without seeing each other, despite living less than an hour away. "Kind of. But we call and text."

He looks a little strange—or is it hopeful? Maybe he really wants me to move here. Which—no, I'm reading way too much into it. "Oh, there's our ride." He points at another tractor, and we hop on.

After buying our pumpkins, we drop them off at our vehicles and then go through the corn maze. It's surprisingly fun and honestly a little difficult to find our way out, but Walker gets us through it. I'm kind of sad to see the exit sign because I was enjoying talking to him about pretty much nothing and everything, all at the same time.

We pick some apples from the orchard, and then he grabs some smaller pumpkins and gourds before he walks me to my car. I want there to be another thing he invites me to.

They're getting close to finishing the work at my house, and panic starts to claw at my insides, like this is the beginning of the end before it even started. But then, he's not leaving. No. Instead, he's leaning into me.

He's so close, I can breathe in his clean scent mixed with the day of being outdoors and something so very him. It smells good. He's going to kiss me.

And I want him to.

My eyes slowly drift closed as I wait for him to kiss me, and when his lips touch mine, there's that spark. That intense feeling that's electrifying my entire body from my toes to my fingertips. I lean into him, my hand pressing against his hard chest as his soft lips move over mine.

It's tame, and there's not even tongue, but I feel his kiss everywhere. I want so much more, but before I can deepen the kiss, he's pulling away, a gigantic grin on his face. "I'll see you Monday."

I swallow hard, my eyes opening as I press a finger to my lips, still feeling him there. "Monday."

He's smiling at my groggy response, and I think he might kiss me again, but then he takes off with a smile and a wave before I finally get my body to move and climb into my car.

So it was a date then.