Chapter 14

“Collin.” Tank’s voice drifted in from the other room. Collin set the vase he was holding gently on the desk and got up, following the sound. “I found some more.”

Collin entered the library and went over to where Tank stood at the far wall. “What is it?”

“I thought I was looking for more cupboards, but all the ones in here open and have more books in them. I’m assuming the ones inside are pretty rare. But look here.” Tank ran his hand between two of the cases, then moved aside a bit of the decorative molding to reveal a keyhole.

“What the hell?” Collin asked as he stepped forward. “Did you find what opens it?”

Tank shook his head. “These keys are all too small.” He set the box on the table.

“A bloody secret room,” Collin said softly as he looked closely at the keyhole. “I doubt this key is in the box or hanging down on the pegboard. What I am willing to bet is that the key is in this room somewhere, hidden. My grandfather probably knew where it was, and my father might have, but neither of them are going to be telling us anything. It’s even possible that the secret was lost before them.”

Collin tried to think of what he knew about that room and came up blank. It wasn’t like he had ever sat at his father’s knee to listen to stories. His father was never like that. Collin tried to think of anything his grandfather might have told him, but nothing triggered a particular memory.

“Any ideas?” Tank asked.

Collin shook his head. “No. But I think we’ve done what we can do for today.” He stretched his arms upward, and Tank pressed a warm hand to his belly when his shirt rode up.

“I agree. We need to get something to eat, and then maybe you can show me around… outside.”

Collin nodded. “How about we kill two birds with one stone? There’s a pub in town. We can eat there, and I can show you the estate. I suggest you get your riding things. The best way to do what we want is on the back of a horse.” Damn, for the first time Collin felt like his future wasn’t closing in on him. He had no idea why, but he was pretty sure it had everything to do with Tank.

“These are gorgeous animals,” Tank said as noses poked out over the tops of the stalls, looking for treats and scratches. Tank handed out plenty of attention, and the horses seemed to gravitate toward him. Each of the grooms and stablemen acknowledged him silently.

“Most of these are for polo,” Collin said as Tank continued speaking softly, meeting each horse. It was like he was being introduced to new friends.

“I see.” They arrived at the end of the stables.

“This is Reginald Waterbottom,” Collin said.

“You have to be kidding me. Who would name a horse that?” Tank asked.

Collin put his hands on his hips. “I was sixteen and thought it hilarious at the time. Reggie is great, and I even have a western saddle for you. Do you think you can get him ready?” Reggie was already nuzzling Tank’s chest and getting scratches. If he were a dog, his back leg would be going a mile a minute. Collin got Jester brushed and saddled before meeting Tank in the yard. He had already mounted his horse and looked every bit the cowboy. Collin swallowed hard, unable to look away, because bloody hell, he was as stunning a sight as Collin had ever seen. “As you would say, you’re going to have to beat them off with a stick.”

“Come on,” Tank said, rolling his eyes. “I’m getting hungry.”

Collin mounted and walked his horse next to Tank’s. “So am I, and it isn’t for food.” He gave Tank his best smoldering look before taking off down the drive and cutting his horse across one of the fields, with Tank right behind him.

“You’re a sneak,” Tank called.

Collin slowed his horse to a walk. “Maybe.” He smirked as Tank caught up, and they rode side by side. “You can see the spire of the church in the village through the trees.”

“Is the village part of the estate?” Tank asked.

“It used to be, and we still own a number of properties that we rent out, but most of the village is owned by the villagers themselves. George owns a few properties here as well. This is the very edge of the dukedom. Most of his property is off to the west of here.” Collin continued pointing out highlights as they approached a road and continued on to a small square in the center of the village.

People were out doing their shopping, and more than one inquired about the earl. It seemed more out of obligation than real concern. Collin’s father wasn’t someone who liked to get to know people. Collin received a number of offers of help and support, though.

“They like you,” Tank said as they approached the pub. Collin dismounted and noticed a number of people watching Tank with curiosity—and definite interest from a few young ladies. Tank smiled as Collin made some introductions before tying off the horses and leading Tank into the small country pub that was the center of village life.

The main room looked like something out of a movie, with dark wood and benches that were worn just enough to seem like the place had been there for generations. Which it had. This place hadn’t changed in all the time Collin had been coming here, other than a few additional cricket flags on the walls and maybe some different beers behind the bar. Otherwise, it was solid, like coming home and knowing some things don’t change.

“Do we sit anywhere?” Tank asked softly.

Collin motioned, and Tank took off his hat and sat at one of the tables near the front windows. Collin sat across from him. “Your hair is growing in,” he said, noticing the dark fuzz. “Are you going to shave it or let it grow?”

“I don’t know. Sometimes I think I shaved my head because it was easy, and then maybe I was doing it to intimidate people so they’d stay away.” Tank ran his hand over his head, and Collin leaned over the table, his eyes widening. “What?”

“Don’t do that. It’s too damned sexy.” He grinned, and Tank groaned. Collin noticed he shifted a little.

“What can I bring you gents?” Kitty asked. Collin knew her from when she was a tot playing in the back room of the pub while her mom worked out front.

“Why don’t you bring us each one of your dad’s specials and the best dark beer you have,” Collin told her, but she wasn’t paying attention—at least not to him.

“Are you a real cowboy? Like riding bulls and all?” Her eyes bulged a little.

“Yes, ma’am. Though I was never crazy enough to ride bulls. I herd cattle back home.” He smiled at her, and Collin gritted his teeth but said nothing. It wasn’t like Tank was going to be interested in her. He was just being nice. Still, Collin felt a rising pang of jealousy.

“There’s a town social and dance tomorrow,” she said, cocking her eyebrows as she arched her back. Collin stifled a snicker.

“That sounds like fun. Maybe if Collin’s dad is feeling better, he and I will come.” Tank winked. “What do you think, Collin? You want to cut a rug?” He winked again, and it took Kitty a second before the message sank in. Then she cleared her throat.

“Okay. Two specials and a couple dark pints.” She hurried away.

“I hope you aren’t mad,” Tank said.

Collin grinned. “Are you kidding? You made your claim pretty forcefully.” Just like he’d done back in Wyoming. His phone vibrated, and Collin excused himself and stepped outside to take the call. “Viscount Haferton,” he said, not recognizing the number.

“Hello, this is Nurse Ellen Prater. I’m calling about your father.” Her tone was gentle, and Collin’s stomach clenched. “Your father is regaining consciousness. He’s responding to voices and is beginning to move. He hasn’t spoken yet, and his eyes are still closed, but his brain is registering additional activity.”

“Thank you. That’s good news. I’ll be up as soon as I can.” He returned inside and sat back down. “He’s waking up.”

“Then let’s eat and we can go back and head up to see him.” It seemed so reasonable and was the right thing to do, but for a few hours, Collin had actually been able to have a little fun. He should have known that as soon as he let go of some worry, something would happen. He needed to get used to this. Tank wouldn’t be able to stay for very long, and then Collin would have to deal with his father, the estate, and God knows what else on his own. Not that he was going to complain about it to anyone. Collin knew he was expected to maintain a stiff upper lip, keep quiet, and somehow figure things out.

Kitty brought their plates of sausage, veg, and potatoes. Bangers and mash, an eternal favorite. Harmon, Kitty’s father, always put in something special, and today it was garlic in the potatoes, which were amazing. “How is your father?” Harmon asked, coming out of the kitchen.

“We’re on our way to see him once we’re done here. He seems to be improving, but we have no idea what lasting effects there might be,” Collin said honestly, knowing that all he needed to do was tell one person and the entire village would know the update in a matter of a few hours.

Harmon nodded and looked like he was going to say something, biting his lip slightly.

“You can say what you want,” Tank said, speaking for Collin. “Straight talkin’ is appreciated.”

Harmon leaned closer. “Not to speak out of turn, but….” He paused and straightened back up.

Collin nodded. “I’m aware.” Harmon’s posture and demeanor spoke volumes. Collin knew that the village and most people in the area feared his father because he was unpredictable. Their lives often depended on what happened at the estate, and unpredictability made them nervous. “I’ll do what I can.”

Harmon nodded before returning to the kitchen. Collin finished his amazing lunch and his single beer. Then he paid the tab, and they returned to the horses and rode slowly back to the estate.

“I think I get it now,” Tank said from next to him.

“What?”

“Just how much pressure you’re under,” Tank said softly. Sitting perfectly straight in the saddle, he was a sight to behold. “I thought I understood pressure and expectations, but I didn’t have a clue. Everyone in that pub looks to you for something or other. They’re worried about your father, but I think they’re even more worried if he, for lack of better words, stays around.”

Collin swallowed and nodded. “They are all hoping that I’ll be able to come in and make their lives better somehow, but I don’t know how to do that.”

“Yes, you do,” Tank said forcefully. “In fact, I’m willing to bet you already are, and that’s why you’re so well-liked and why they look to you. Whatever your father did to you or told you, he was full of shit.” Above all else, he liked that when Tank spoke, it was straightforward and honest. “Look what you did with Barney and how he responded to you. That gift isn’t just with horses. It’s with people too.” He pulled to a stop. “I had determined that I was going to live my life alone. I figured it was easier to do that than to try to figure out how to make a life for myself. I had the ranch and a few friends, and I thought that was enough.” Tank turned away and started forward. “I was wrong, and you were the one to show me that. Fuck, Collin, you brought some light and life to me.” He sighed. “Let’s go.”

Collin nudged Jester forward to catch up with Tank. “That was easy. Hell, you were easy. I could see so much of what you wanted because I wanted the same thing. I knew you were lonely, and hell, I was too. My life had been dictated by someone else, and for a few weeks, it wasn’t. I was free, and you helped me feel that way.” They continued forward, their horses knowing the way home. “But I don’t know what’s going to happen next.”

“Well, you’ll have to deal with your father, and you’ll take all of this over. I’ll go back to my ranch and try to figure out what to do next.” He didn’t turn to look at him, and Collin huffed under his breath.

“Is that what you want to do?” Collin asked.

Tank pulled his horse to a stop. “What choice do I have? My life is there, and yours is here. I couldn’t ask you to leave all this and just walk away to come stay there with me. That isn’t any more practical than me leaving my family’s land to stay here. I know Alan did it, but he had family to step in. I don’t have that.”

Collin understood family legacy and duty. “Let me ask you something. Who are you doing it for? Who are you building the ranch for?”

Tank glared at him. “That’s the pot calling the kettle black. Who are you doing all this for?” As soon as he asked the question, Tank looked back toward the spire of the village, and his shoulders slumped. “We both have obligations, so we can’t just pick up and leave.” He started back toward the house, and Collin rode along with him. Tank was right, and he knew it. There was very little either of them could do, and they had to make the best of it. Their cards had been dealt, and they both got crappy hands.

“Who is this?” his father asked when they walked into the hospital room. Even though his voice was soft, he sounded demanding, and Collin wanted to turn around and leave the pain in the ass to stew.

“A friend from America,” Collin answered. The last thing he was going to allow was his father to get under his skin. “How are you doing?”

“I’m just great. My legs don’t move well, and you can hear that I talk funny.” His words were slurred, but Collin understood him. “I asked them when I can go home, and they won’t give an answer.”

“Because they don’t know,” Collin said. “You just woke up after a bad stroke.” He didn’t want to say anything, but it appeared his father’s left side was most affected. His arm lay on the bed, and that side of his mouth drooped. “You need to rest and get better.”

“What I need is to go home.” He tried to sit up and failed.

“Don’t be so damned stubborn. You need rest and healing.” Collin let an edge steal into his voice. “Do what the doctors say.” He held his father’s icy gaze, refusing to back down.

“I have things I need to see to, and don’t think you’re going to push me aside while I’m sick.” His voice grew softer as he became tired. “I’m more than capable of seeing to my own business.”

Collin turned to Tank and then leaned close to his father. “You don’t need to worry about anything like that.” He wasn’t going to lie to him, but he also wasn’t going to get into this right now. He knew that if the situation were reversed, his father would not extend the same courtesy. “Just rest and get your strength back.”

His father closed his eyes, and Collin grew quiet, holding Tank’s hand.

“I don’t know your friend. Is he new?” his father asked, and Collin answered him again. Then his father seemed to go to sleep, and Collin said a quiet goodbye before leaving the room.

“He’s going to fight you all the way,” Tank said softly as they walked to the elevator.

Collin said nothing until the doors slid closed behind them. “It doesn’t matter. Everyone is counting on me, and I can’t let them down. If he fights, then I turn everything over to the constables, and they can charge him with conspiracy and God knows what else. But as much as he thinks he can handle things, he can’t, and it isn’t likely he ever will again, regardless of how he fights.” Collin was realizing that not only was the responsibility for the estate settling on him, but he was going to need to care for his father, most likely for the rest of his life. However he looked at it, his future seemed written for him, and there was nothing he could do about it, no matter how much the thought of going back to Wyoming with Tank appealed to him right now.

George and Alan had them over for a quiet dinner, which Collin was grateful for. He also appreciated that they didn’t spend time asking about his father and what his next steps were. He did bring them up to date, and they agreed that he should continue moving forward with his plans. Someone needed to run things, and his father wasn’t going to be able to do that in the short term.

“How much longer are you planning to stay?” Alan asked over bowls of pistachio ice cream.

Collin couldn’t help setting down his spoon, the fatigue that had been building in him slipping away momentarily as he held his breath.

“Three or four days,” Tank answered. “I need to get my flight scheduled soon. I have to get back to the ranch, but I don’t want to leave Collin to face all this alone.” He took a small bite. “Not that he can’t…. And I know you all will help him….” Tank shook his head slightly and went quiet.

Alan patted Tank’s shoulder. “Dude,” he said gently, “you don’t want to go because of what that means.”

“Yeah,” Tank said softly, and Collin swallowed hard around the lump in his throat. “But there’s nothing I can do about it, and that sucks big-time.” He finished his ice cream. “Would you excuse me?” he asked formally, and when George nodded, Tank pushed back the chair and left the small dining area in George’s private rooms, his footsteps fading quickly.

Collin watched the other two. They had met and found a way to work things out. But Collin didn’t see that for him and Tank. Alan had gotten lucky because his mother had stepped up to take over the family ranch. Alan had told him at one point that his mother had spent years grieving his father, but decided she had spent enough of her life missing him and needed to rejoin the living. Collin found that hard to picture. Maureen was a force of nature, and it was hard to see anything keeping her at bay. But maybe that was what finding someone had done for her, and now she was marrying again. There was nothing like that for Tank.

What was between him and Tank was destined to fade with time and distance. “I don’t know what to do. I keep trying to see a path forward, but every time I look, it seems to dead-end with a huge tree in the way.”

“I guess that sometimes there isn’t a way forward.”

“George,” Alan scolded.

Alan shrugged as George continued. “There isn’t and you know it. Collin is the future Earl of Doddington. And yes, he could go back to the ranch with Tank, but that would mean things here would fall apart and he’d inherit a disaster that he would need to deal with eventually.” George patted Alan’s hand. “ Noblesse oblige . Letting that happen would affect everyone in the area, including some of the people here. He knows that everything is interconnected, just like it is back in Wyoming. One ranch’s success brings more attention to the area, and that helps the others, just as one ranch’s decline hurts everyone as well in one way or another. Collin can’t walk away from things here any more than Tank can turn his back on his ranch. He has the same obligations Collin does.”

“Yeah, I know. But—” Alan began.

George smiled gently at him. “You’re a romantic at heart.”

Collin turned away, suddenly feeling like he was intruding on a private moment. George was right. The only way they could be together was if one of them gave up everything. Collin couldn’t do that, and he wouldn’t ask Tank to either. It would only be a source of resentment that would never let up, and eventually it would poison what they had.

“Then what’s the answer?” Alan asked, and Collin’s attention returned to them.

“We make the most of the time we have,” Collin said and excused himself. He suddenly needed to find Tank— now .

It took a little searching, but he knew he’d find Tank outside. He happened to be sitting on the terrace railing, looking out over the great lawn in the evening light. “Tank….” Collin sat down next to him. “Is company okay?”

Tank didn’t smile. “You? Always,” he answered.

“What are you thinking about?”

Tank sighed. “I keep wondering why no matter what, I keep coming back to things I can’t have regardless of how much I want them. I have to go back and—”

“Yet this is the most beautiful place you’ve ever seen and you don’t want to leave it,” he teased, but Tank turned to him, completely serious.

“I don’t want to leave you,” he clarified, and Collin’s attempt at humor faded. Tank tugged Collin against his side, and they sat quietly together as the light dimmed. Alan and George joined them after a little while, and the four of them watched the sun set until an evening chill forced them inside. Collin thanked George and Alan for dinner and drove Tank and himself back home.

Once inside the house, Collin excused himself for a few minutes and made a call to the hospital. They told him that his father was resting and that he was still very weak and had been speaking a little at times. Collin hung up and found Tank in the library, looking at the books on the shelves.

Collin was worn out, but when Tank turned around, his gaze grew heated. He smiled and then drew closer before taking Collin’s hand and leading him through the house and up the stairs, turning out the lights as they went. At the door to Collin’s room, Tank guided Collin inside, then closed the door with his foot before pressing Collin against the bed.

Tank didn’t say anything; he didn’t need to. The earnest energy in his hands and the way he tugged off Collin’s shirt and held him like he couldn’t bear to have an inch of space between them said it all. His hands shook a little as they moved over Collin’s body.

In the darkness, Collin took the opportunity to map the contours of Tank’s back and sides with his hands, committing to memory the movement of each muscle. They were going to have to part, Collin knew that, and he was determined to remember everything possible. Tank kissed his breath away, and Collin quivered under him, breathing deeply when Tank pulled back.

Collin could only see Tank’s outline, but that was enough. The intensity of his gaze seemed to make itself known, and he didn’t dare look away. Even in the dark, he wanted as much as he could get. Collin stroked Tank’s cheek, leading him back down and into a kiss.

They rolled on the bed, back and forth, each desperate for the other. When Collin was on top, he stroked Tank’s chest, loving the coarse roughness of the hair against his fingers. He managed to get the waist of Tank’s pants open before Tank rolled them and he was on the bottom, Tank’s weight pressing him into the mattress, solid and firm. It made him feel safe, and Collin ran his hands down Tank’s back and under his jeans, clasping his firm backside as he pushed the fabric lower. He wanted to feel all of Tank.

Tank must have understood, because he climbed off the bed. Twin thunks followed by the clink of his belt on the floor told Collin that Tank had shed his shoes and pants. Strong fingers tugged at Collin’s shoes until they joined Tank’s, followed by his trousers, until he was bare. Then Tank climbed back onto the bed, the heat between them growing. Still, Tank remained silent. His hands said everything that was needed. It was almost sublime, how much the silence in the room added to the intensity between them. Words were superfluous, and they had a much better use for their lips and mouths than talking.

Collin couldn’t get enough of Tank—the feel of his hands, the contours of his skin under Collin’s fingers, the taste of him that burst on his tongue. It was almost too much, and yet Collin wanted more. He pressed upward, and Tank sat back and held him as Collin repositioned himself until his legs wrapped around Tank’s waist and he held him even tighter, like Tank was afraid Collin was going to get away.

Things grew more heated. The very air in the room seemed charged with electricity. Collin found a foil square on the nightstand and pressed it into Tank’s hand. Tank set it aside and cupped Collin’s cheeks in his hands. “I want you too,” he whispered, drying Collin’s throat to the point he could only nod.

Tank held him close and positioned Collin on his back before drawing closer. Then he paused and fumbled on the table next to the bed. Collin closed his eyes. A soft snick sounded like a gunshot in the silence, and then Collin gasped as slick fingers teased the sensitive skin around his entrance. He held his breath, but Tank soothed him, running those long, thick fingers over him, up and down, gliding over him until Collin could barely breathe. Each motion made him want more, and yet Tank seemed intent on driving him crazy.

Collin writhed on the bed until Tank slicked his fingers once more before entering him. He gasped and sighed as Tank made his vision double. He wound his arms around Tank’s neck, kissing him as he sank that digit deeper, then scissored in a second finger.

“Tank,” Collin whispered, breathing his name like it was the most important sound he had ever made.

Tank pulled away, and Collin gasped as Tank sank into him. Their joining was intense. Collin held the bedding in his fists as Tank ramped up his intensity. Collin could feel Tank losing control. Hell, Collin barely had any of his own, and rather than holding on, he let go and gave himself over to Tank, who only intensified his movements.

The bed began to rock, and Collin found himself mumbling incoherent sounds, but it was all he could manage. “Don’t stop.”

Tank caressed Collin’s belly before taking his length in hand, stroking Collin to the timing of his hips. It was amazing. Collin held on to Tank, afraid he was going to fly into a million pieces at any second.

“I’m not going to.” Tank leaned forward to kiss him as sweat broke out all over Collin. His entire body seemed to belong to someone else, because he had never been so complete. It was like he could feel what Tank felt and understand what Tank was thinking. He cupped his cheeks as though that would allow him to have a better connection. “You’re mine, Collin,” Tank whispered, and then thrust hard before stilling. Collin felt Tank fill the condom, and it shattered the last of his control. Collin tumbled into a mind-blowing release that left him floating for what seemed like hours.

Collin came back to himself slowly with Tank still holding him. He kissed him, shaking as their bodies separated. He sighed softly, settling back on the mattress while Tank took care of things in the bathroom and then rejoined him in bed.

“Did you mean what you said?” Collin asked.

Tank held him closer, pressing his chest to Collin’s back. “I always mean what I say. A part of you will always be mine, just like you will always carry part of me, no matter where we go or how far apart we are.” He kissed Collin’s shoulder. “The ones we love are always with us, and I do love you.”

“I know, and I love you too,” Collin said as he put a hand on top of Tank’s, then shifted closer, letting warmth surround him, and tried to go to sleep. He was well aware of the fact that sometimes love just wasn’t enough. No matter what, he was in for some very cold and lonely days once Tank went home and took the warmth along with him.