A Song for Harlan (Pickup Men Book 4) Page 5

  “Shit.” Ben picked up a curry comb from a tack box in front of Doc’s stall and started to brush his other side in long strokes. “I’m so sorry, Harlan.”

  Harlan shrugged. Shit was right, but he had moved on, and life was perfect for him and Tanner now. Mostly. “It’s in the past. He’s been gone four years now.”

  “You haven’t seen him since? Not even for Tanner?”

  Harlan pursed his lips and clenched his jaw. That was what had hurt the most. Jason hadn’t just left Harlan. He’d abandoned his son, too. More than that, he’d denounced Tanner as even his at all.

  “What an asshole,” Ben snapped, surprising Harlan at the vehemence in his voice. “I’m sorry, but people who do anything that hurts children deserve a special place in Hell.”

  Harlan nodded slowly, grateful to meet someone who understood while at the same time cursing his body’s reaction to the fire sparking in Ben’s eyes. Angry Ben was a turn on, but even if Ben really did like kids, he was still leaving.

  “Tanner couldn’t understand why his poppa left,” Harlan said. “It’s been me and Tanner ever since, and I’ve made damned sure he hasn’t wanted for anything.”

  Ben was quiet for a long moment, his assessing gaze boring into Harlan over Doc’s withers in a way that made him self-conscious. Harlan tore his gaze away, tossing his brush into the tack box and grabbing a hoof pick. At least cleaning hooves meant he couldn’t look at Ben.

  Ben’s voice was a soft rumble when he asked, “Is that why you don’t want me here?”

  Harlan’s first impulse was to deny it, but the vulnerable note in Ben’s voice plucked at his heartstrings. He didn’t want Ben to feel unwanted, but at the same time, he needed him to understand his situation. No matter how attracted Harlan was to Ben, no matter how much he wanted him, Tanner came first.

  Harlan released Doc’s leg and stood to face Ben. “It’s not that I don’t want you here,” he found himself answering honestly. “I actually do. Surprisingly. But I won’t risk Tanner getting attached to someone and having them put us through what Jason did again.”

  Ben’s eyes narrowed, and his mouth pressed into a flat line. The change was subtle, but Harlan caught it and immediately regretted his candor.

  “I know you don’t know me very well,” Ben said, the affront clear in his voice, “and I know nothing about your ex other than what you just told me, but I can guarantee you right now, I am nothing like him.”

  “I’m sorry.” Harlan took a step back and held up a hand in supplication. “I didn’t mean to imply you were. It’s true I don’t know you well, but I do know you’re not like him. It’s just . . . You’re an on-the-road musician still looking for your purpose in life and trying to figure out what you want. And I won’t bring anyone into Tanner’s life who isn’t stable and settled.”

  Ben raised his eyebrows. “So you’re saying I’m too high-risk?”

  Harlan sighed. He was doing a shit job of explaining this. He softened his tone. “Everyone is too high-risk until Tanner is older. Maybe after he goes to college.”

  Silence fell between them, thick and oppressive, and Harlan hated every second of it but didn’t know what to say. Doc took the lead by stamping a foot and snorting. The moment broke.

  “Once burned twice shy, then,” Ben said, his tone flat and expression shuttered so Harlan couldn’t get a read on him. “Thank you for telling me.”

  Harlan tilted his head. “Sure.”

  Ben nodded and then turned to drop the curry comb back in the tack box. “Well, if you don’t need me for anything more out here—” he stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked out beyond the barn doors “—I think I’ll go in the house and work on some songs.”

  “Ben, I . . .” Harlan walked over to stand in front of Ben. He stared into those golden brown eyes and itched to reach out and touch him, but he kept his hands glued to his sides.

  “Don’t worry, I get it.”

  Harlan watched Ben walk out of the barn, both dogs at his heels, and wanted to tell him to stop, that he did want him, but the words wouldn’t budge from his throat. This was for the best anyway. Tanner’s well-being came first.

  “Hey, buddy,” Harlan said when Tanner climbed up into the truck later that day. He’d left Ben at the house when he’d gone to pick his son up from school. “How was your day?”

  “Awesome! We made snowmen at recess,” Tanner said with all the enthusiasm of an eight-year-old as he stuffed his backpack on the floor and buckled his seat belt.

  “What kind of learning is that?” Harlan teased.

  Tanner rolled his eyes. “It was recess, Dad.”

  Harlan chuckled and ruffled Tanner’s hair.

  “And look what I made in pottery class.” Tanner dug around in his bag and pulled out a roughly round-shaped bowl. It was a couple of inches deep and painted a brownish red with two blue eyes painted on the bottom. On the outside was a black nose and there were two ears stuck to the inside rim—one red and one white that flopped over at the top. “A food bowl for Cooper. Next class I’m going to make one for Charlie.”

  “Wow, Tan. That is really good.” Harlan grinned. He wanted Tanner to explore everything as he grew up, and on Mondays after school he had pottery class. Then he had swimming on Wednesdays and Spanish lessons on Fridays. He always spent weekends doing ranch chores with Harlan, going to rodeos with him when they were nearby, or getting time in with his grandparents. The kid’s life was a full one, and Harlan loved every minute of it. “Cooper will love it.”

  “Thanks,” Tanner said with pride in his voice. “I was going to make you a coffee cup but you have too many.”

  Harlan laughed. “True. But I don’t have one made by you.”

  “Okay.” Tanner carefully replaced the dog bowl bag in his bag. “I’ll make you one after I make Charlie’s bowl.”

  “Deal.” Harlan turned onto the narrow country road that led to their ranch. “You know my friend Ben who you met this morning? He’s going to be staying with us for a couple more days until his truck is fixed, okay?”

  Tanner shrugged nonchalantly. “Okay.”

  Harlan grinned again, and his heart swelled. Tanner was such an amazing kid. He would never understand how Jason could have walked away from them when Harlan would lay down and die for Tanner.

  A few minutes later, Harlan opened the back door to the mudroom, and the tantalizing scent of barbeque sauce and apple cider accosted him. His mouth watered, and his stomach rumbled.

  “Whoa, what smells so good?” Tanner exclaimed, kicking off his boots and shrugging out of his jacket. He ran for the kitchen.

  “Wash up first, Tan,” Harlan said as he trailed behind.

  Ben looked up when Harlan stepped into the kitchen, a mixture of hope and guilt on his handsome face, and the strongest urge to kiss him came over Harlan. “I hope it’s okay I made dinner. You had everything I needed for my favorite apple cider ribs.”

  Other than letting Ben know he was going to pick up Tanner, he and Ben hadn’t spoken since Harlan had stuck his foot in his mouth earlier. That Ben had gone to the effort of making a nice meal for them was unexpected . . . and begrudgingly welcome.

  “I’m not one to turn down a home-cooked meal,” Harlan rasped through a suddenly dry throat. Neither he nor Ben made a move, and the atmosphere edged on awkward.

  Until Tanner charged back into the kitchen and pulled up a chair at the kitchen table.

  “Uh, can I help with anything?” Harlan asked, taking a step back.

  Ben shook his head, his smile soft. “Just sit. I’ve got it all covered.”

  It was only then that Harlan noticed Ben had set the table, too, and for a second, Harlan’s dream of a whole family flashed in his mind. He shook his head and took a seat at the head of the table. Tanner sat to his right, and a place setting for Ben was to his left.

  Once Ben served them and then sat down, Harlan fought to keep from slipping back into the fantasy. This was the scene, but Ben couldn’t be the man.

  One thing was for sure, though, Ben’s ribs were to die for.

  THE NEXT MORNING HARLAN walked into the house after feeding and turning out the horses to find Ben and Tanner in the kitchen. He frowned. He’d expected both of them to still be sleeping. Tanner was sitting at his usual place at the island watching Ben hand-beat a bowl of pancake mix. Every few rotations, he paused to toss a handful of fresh blueberries into the mix. Charlie and Cooper lay on the tile floor, raptly watching for any runaway blueberries to roll in their direction.

  “Morning, Dad,” Tanner said when he spotted Harlan, and Harlan flashed him a grin.

  Ben turned, and a smile lit his face. “Morning. Breakfast is just about ready.”

  “You don’t need to cook for us. I, uh . . .” The words stumbled out of Harlan’s mouth much the way he had stumbled out of bed earlier: confused and torn in two directions. He wanted Ben to go, and he wanted Ben to stay. Harlan hadn’t slept well, alone in his bed knowing Ben was just down the hall, knowing how Ben’s skin had felt against his, knowing the taste of him and the intensity of his desire and the guttural sounds he made when pleasure took him over the edge.

  Harlan shifted his gaze and headed for the coffeepot. “Thank you,” he grunted quietly. He poured a cup while he tried to gather his wits. He sat down at the island beside Tanner and ruffled his hair.

  “Da-aad,” Tanner grumbled. He ducked away from Harlan and smoothed his hair back down.

  Harlan grinned. He loved his job as a rodeo pickup man and horse trainer, but being Tanner’s dad was the greatest job in the world. He’d give up anything and everything to make sure his son was happy and confident and knew he was loved no matter what. Much the same as Harlan’s parents had done for him. Being gay hadn’t changed a thing between him and his family, nor with most of the townsfolk. It broke his heart that his upbringing made him one of the lucky ones when it should be the norm.

  Harlan caught Ben’s gaze, who was also grinning at him. Warmth spread unbidden into Harlan’s chest, and with it, a sense of rightness. The moment felt . . . prophetic. Like this was the right man and the three of them were meant to be a family.

  Except they weren’t and they couldn’t be.

  He tore his gaze away from Ben and took a sip of his coffee.

  “How many pancakes would you two like?” Ben asked.

  “Three for me,” Tanner piped up. He had a fork in one hand and a knife in the other, ready to dig in.

  Harlan shook his head. “Two for Tanner,” he corrected, having noticed how large Ben had made them, “and three for me.”

  Ben nodded, smiled, and two dimples cut grooves in his cheeks that beckoned for Harlan’s tongue to trace them. The man was far too attractive to be in Harlan’s kitchen making breakfast for them—and he had to stop getting all hot and bothered when his son was sitting right next to him.

  Ben plated their meals and sat down on the opposite side of the table. “Bon appétit.”

  Harlan cut up his pancakes, took a bite, and barely held back a blissful groan. Tanner didn’t hold back at all, though, and Harlan and Ben both broke out laughing. The sound echoed around the kitchen, filling the lonely corners with happiness.

  “These are so good!” Tanner enthused around a mouthful of food. “Thank you, Ben.”

  Ben’s smile widened. “You’re welcome.” He met Harlan’s gaze again and winked.

  Dammit. It was going to hurt when Ben left.

  Ben was already awake the next morning when he heard Harlan moving around the house. He was tempted to reach out his door as Harlan passed by, drag him inside, and wake him up properly. But Tanner would be awake anytime now, too. As much as he wanted Harlan, Ben respected his wishes when it came to his son. Ben understood, but it hadn’t prevented the unexpected hurt when Harlan had said that he wouldn’t risk a chance on him. Sure, he was at loose ends with his life, but that didn’t mean a chance encounter and a snowstorm couldn’t show him the light. Life was a funny thing. He’d only intended on passing through Santa Bella, but Harlan had happened. Now he wasn’t so sure he really wanted to continue on his trip to the coast at all.

  Ben waited in his room until Harlan left the house for his morning feedings and then hopped up, got dressed, and headed to the kitchen to make breakfast. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d sat down for a meal like a family, if ever, and hadn’t realized how much he’d been craving that kind of connection. His parents had given more attention to their quarter-million-dollar horses than their son, but Harlan . . . even though he had a stable of horses, his son was his first priority. Could Harlan and Tanner, their small family, be the purpose he was searching for?

  Except when Harlan came in from the barn, he didn’t look happy to see him, and Ben was reminded again that Harlan didn’t want him there, that he was only being polite while Ben’s truck was in the shop.

  Breakfast was a quiet affair, and afterward, Ben went out to the barn and started cleaning the stalls while Harlan took Tanner to school. When he came back, he thanked Ben for helping and then disappeared into the arena. As much as Ben wanted to go to the arena and watch when he was done with the stalls, to be in Harlan’s presence, he knew he wasn’t welcome.

  Ben was sitting on the bed in his room later that day, strumming the melody for a new song he was working on, when Harlan came crashing into the house. He looked up when Harlan’s robust frame filled the doorway. His solid chest rose and fell rapidly, cold colored his cheeks rosy, and his green eyes were wide.

  Ben put his guitar down and stood. “What’s wrong?”

  “Doc took a spill.” Harlan pulled a set of keys from his jacket pocket and tossed them to Ben, who caught them easily. “Would you mind picking Tanner up at school? I have to wait here for the vet.”

  “Sure. Of course. Is he going to be okay?”

  Harlan pursed his lips, his voice tight when he said, “Hope so.”

  And then he was gone, his rapid footsteps echoing down the hall.

  “Like this?” Tanner asked as he moved his left fingers on the fretboard and strummed the strings with a pick held between his right thumb and index finger.

  “Yes, you got it,” Ben encouraged. Harlan still hadn’t come in from the barn. Ben hoped that didn’t mean Doc was hurt worse than he’d thought. To keep busy while waiting, he was teaching Tanner a few chords on the guitar. “You’re a natural.”

  Ben had always loved teaching people to play, loved sharing the joy he felt when it came to music with another person. Especially with someone as eager to learn as Tanner was. Harlan’s son had taken to the strings like he was born to play.

  “I wish you were staying here so you could teach me more,” Tanner said out of the blue, without taking his eyes off the strings.

  Ben found himself wishing he was staying, too, that he was a more permanent part of this small family. His throat tightened and his voice sounded strained when he said, “I’m sure your dad will find someone here to teach you.”

  Tanner shrugged. “Yeah, but I like you.”

  Ben’s heart broke a little. How had a hookup turned into a family he wanted to be a part of? “I like you, too, but you know I have to leave soon, right?”

  Tanner nodded and kept playing the chord progression Ben had taught him.

  “Okay, let’s switch up the chords,” Ben said, showing Tanner which fingers to place where on the guitar neck.

  Tanner looked up, his gaze flicked over Ben’s shoulder, and his face lit up. “Look, Dad! Ben’s teaching me to play guitar!”

  “Sounds really good, buddy,” Harlan said, but his voice was flat. “Have you done your homework yet?”

  Ben shifted around on his chair to see Harlan standing in the archway to the living room, but the expression on his face gave Ben pause. His lips were pursed, eyes narrowed, and brows furrowed. The man was pissed.

  “No,” Tanner said.

  “Can you get to it before dinner, please?”

  “Do I have to?” Tanner complained.

  “Yes.”

  Tanner sighed and handed the guitar off to Ben. “Thanks, Ben.”

  Ben smiled up at him. “Anytime.”

  Harlan didn’t move other than to give Tanner’s shoulder a gentle squeeze as he passed him into the hallway.

  “Is Doc okay?” Ben asked cautiously when Tanner was out of earshot. He hadn’t told Tanner that was why he was the one picking him up, in case something serious had happened to the horse.

  Harlan nodded, one sharp jerk of his head. “He’s going to be fine after some time off to heal.”

  “Good.”

  Silence fell between them, thick and uncomfortable, while Ben searched for something to fill the void and Harlan still stood there, rigid and vibrating.

  “What are you doing?” Harlan hissed and motioned to the guitar with a flick of his hand.

  Taken aback, Ben stood up slowly, as if he were about to face off with a mountain lion. “Just teaching Tanner a few chords,” he said carefully.

  “I told you I didn’t want him getting attached to you.” Harlan took a step closer, his body rigid.

  “Are you serious right now?” Ben’s chest clenched painfully and anger snapped in his mind. Harlan had asked him to help with his son while he dealt with an emergency. What were they supposed to do? Go to separate rooms and wait until he came home? “Tanner knows full well I’m leaving soon, and he’s not expecting anything from me once I leave. You could try giving your son a little more credit. He’s a damn smart kid.”

  “Are you telling me how to raise my son?” Harlan’s voice lowered and the hair on the back of Ben’s neck lifted.

  “What? No!” Ben picked up his guitar and gathered the sheet music he’d spread out on the coffee table with jerky movements. “But maybe if you weren’t so hung up on the past that you can’t see a future, you’d stop using your kid as an excuse not to take a chance.”