A Song for Harlan (Pickup Men Book 4) Read online

“What the hell?” Emotions raced across Harlan’s face so fast Ben couldn’t define any of them. Except for pain. His careless words had hurt a man he’d quickly grown to care for.

  Ben dropped his head and sighed. He hadn’t meant to say that, but the words were out now. If he’d thought he’d had any shred of a chance coming back here, it was gone now. “Look, I’m sorry. That was uncalled for.” He tucked the sheet music under his arm and pushed the chair he’d moved in front of the couch back into the corner. “I just . . . I’m sure my truck will be ready tomorrow and I’ll be out of your hair forever. Good night.”

  He squeezed past a frozen Harlan, and tried not to run down the hall to his room.

  HARLAN STOOD IN THE barn the next night, leaning against Poco’s stall door while she rested her chin on his shoulder. He absently scrubbed the soft hair under her jaw, putting off heading into the house. Ben was still there. Joe had called late in the day to say the part for his truck had just arrived, but that he wouldn’t get to it until the morning. One more night with Ben and Harlan was hiding in the barn like a coward.

  He’d felt like an ass after Ben’s words last night but didn’t know how to move forward. Deep down he knew Ben was right, but he’d spent the whole day trying to keep himself busy, avoiding Ben so he didn’t have to face what a dumbass he’d been for so long.

  “Well, girl,” he said to Poco, “I guess I should go face the inevitable.”

  She nickered softly in reply.

  The house was silent when Harlan stepped inside. Tanner was due home from swim practice soon—one of the other kids’ moms was driving him home—and there was no sign of Ben. There was a light on the kitchen, though, and something smelled good, which meant Ben had cooked dinner for them again. Except this time, he’d put two prepared plates in the fridge with a note about how long to warm them up.

  Guilt bit at Harlan. He couldn’t let Ben leave on a note like this. He shored up his nerve and walked down the hall. Charlie and Cooper both lay on the floor in front of Ben’s room, and he shook his head at the dogs. Light shone under the crack of the door, and relief that Ben was still there hit Harlan like a grenade.

  He rapped lightly on the door. “Ben, can we talk?”

  After a long, agonizing moment, Ben finally opened the door. His expression was locked down and his eyes wary. “I’m sorry again about last night,” he said in a low rumble.

  “No, I’m the one who needs to apologize,” Harlan argued. He took of his hat and ran a hand through his hair. “You, uh, are right. I guess I’ve been afraid of getting my heart broken again.”

  “I do understand.” Ben’s voice and expression softened. “Really.”

  Harlan opened his mouth, the word stay right there on his tongue waiting to be voiced into reality, but he bit it back. If Ben ever came back, it had to be because he wanted to, not because Harlan wanted him to.

  “Please have dinner with us tonight,” he said instead. This was his last night with Ben, and he wanted to enjoy his company. He’d been a fool to hide from him all day. To spend the last couple of days keeping his distance when they could have been creating memories.

  Ben’s mouth lifted into an inviting smile, and he nodded. His gaze searched Harlan’s and those beautiful brown eyes beckoned him. He couldn’t take it anymore. He did what he’d been wanting to do every day since Ben had come to their ranch. He hooked a finger in Ben’s belt loop and tugged him close. Ben fell into him, his body hot and solid and perfect against Harlan’s, and Harlan kicked himself for not savoring every second he’d had with Ben.

  Harlan kissed him, fiercely and frantically, as though he’d been starving and Ben was a buffet. Ben angled his head and deepened the kiss, pressed closer, and—

  The mudroom door banged open. “Dad? Ben?” Tanner shouted. “I’m home!”

  “Who wants popcorn?” Harlan asked when they finished dinner.

  “I do!” Tanner exclaimed. “Can we watch a movie, too?”

  “Sure thing, bud.”

  Once the snacks were ready, the three of them settled on the couch, Tanner between Harlan and Ben. A huge bowl of popcorn sat on the coffee table in front of them, along with two cold beers for the adults and a glass of apple juice for Tanner. A cozy fire crackled softly in the fireplace. The only thing that would have made the night more perfect was if it weren’t the last night Ben would be there.

  Two hours later, when the credits started rolling, Ben stretched his arms over his head and his shirt rode up, baring lightly furred skin that Harlan knew for a fact felt like silk.

  “Are you and Ben boyfriends, Dad?” Tanner asked out of the blue, his voice laced with innocent anticipation.

  Harlan had just taken a sip of his beer and snorted it out his nose, and Ben choked on a mouthful of popcorn. All the while, Tanner smiled up at him like he knew something he and Ben didn’t.

  “No,” Harlan croaked and wiped beer from his chin. “We’re just friends.”

  “That’s too bad,” Tanner said, leaning forward to grab another handful of popcorn.

  Harlan shared a look with Ben over his head. Tanner was right. It was too bad. Ben had only been with them a short time, but it felt like he belonged here with them. If only Ben were more settled. Then maybe they could see where this fragile thing growing between them would lead.

  “You should marry him,” Tanner stated like it was the most obvious thing in the world, his gaze still downcast on his snack. Oh, to be a kid.

  This time Harlan hadn’t just snorted a drink, but he somehow managed to choke on his breath. “Why do you think that?”

  “Because Ben makes better blueberry pancakes than you do,” Tanner said with a seriousness that sounded older than his eight years.

  Harlan met Ben’s gaze, dumbfounded for a second. Ben raised his eyebrows, his mouth lifted into a grin, and they both burst out laughing.

  “Is that all I’m good for?” Ben teased, elbowing Tanner playfully in the ribs and then tickling him.

  Between giggles, Tanner said, “You play good guitar, too.”

  “Well, good thing I got that going for me,” Ben laughed.

  “Okay, young man,” Harlan said as he stood up. If he watched anymore of this his heart would split in half. “Time to get ready for bed.”

  Tanner jumped up from the couch, but when he was halfway across the room, he spun on his heel and raced back and gave Ben a hug. “I’m glad you’re here Ben,” he whispered but not so low Harlan couldn’t hear him. “My dad needs you.”

  Tanner ran down the hall, and Harlan frowned. Then his heart split. How had he not seen that coming? He’d made a point of keeping things between him and Ben strictly platonic when Tanner was home, but tomorrow Ben would leave their lives forever and Tanner was still going to be crushed.

  “Just, uh . . . don’t leave without saying goodbye to him,” he said quietly to Ben, not making eye contact—he couldn’t—and then he followed Tanner out of the living room.

  Tanner didn’t say anything else about Ben while he got ready for bed. Harlan tucked him in and gave him a kiss on the forehead. “Good night, Tan.”

  “’Night, Dad.”

  When Harlan returned to the living room, hoping to spend a little more alone time with Ben, he found him passed out. He stood over him for a minute, watching firelight flicker over his handsome face. Harlan had fallen. As much as he hadn’t wanted to, hadn’t thought he even could, he still had somehow. Everything he’d wanted to avoid was going to happen. He and Tanner were going to miss this traveling musician more than he ever could have anticipated.

  With a sigh, he pulled the throw blanket from the back of the couch, draped it over Ben, and nudged a strand of hair from his forehead. “I won’t ask you to stay,” Harlan whispered, “but I wouldn’t complain if you did.”

  Ben was not happy to see dawn rising the next morning. Yes, he still had a few commitments he needed to honor, but he did not want to leave. He knew the second he did all he’d be thinking about was coming back. If Harlan wanted him to come back, that was. With a deep sigh, Ben grabbed his backpack and guitar case and headed for the kitchen, Charlie and Cooper at his heels. Even the dogs seemed subdued, as though they knew he was leaving, too.

  Harlan was making breakfast, and Tanner was in his usual chair at the kitchen island. Ben quietly put his gear down, but Tanner noticed. The smile on his young face fell, and he pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes. He looked so much like Harlan right then that Ben swore his heart cracked open.

  “You’re leaving,” Tanner accused, his bottom lip pouting.

  “I’m sorry, kiddo,” Ben said as he moved into the kitchen and pulled out his chair but didn’t sit. “My truck is fixed, and I have booked shows that I need to play.”

  Tanner’s eyes glistened, and he jumped from his chair and wrapped his thin arms around Ben’s waist, hugging him tightly.

  “I’m going to miss you, Ben,” Tanner mumbled into his chest.

  “I’ll miss you, too,” Ben replied, his throat tight, but his gaze was on Harlan, silently letting Harlan know he would miss them both.

  Tanner sniffed. “Thank you for showing me how to play guitar.”

  “Anytime,” he choked out. This was hard. Ben had no idea it could hurt so much to walk away from two people who he’d only known for such a short time. Somehow, they had come to mean the world to him.

  Tanner disengaged himself and sat back on his chair, shoulders slumped and eyes downcast as he picked at his food. Poignant silence fell between them for the rest of breakfast and all through the drive to Tanner’s school and Joe’s garage. Ben didn’t want to leave, didn’t know how to say goodbye, but Harlan hadn’t asked him to come back after his gigs, nor had he asked him to stay.

  “Well,” Harlan finally said after he parked in Joe’s lot and hopped out of his truck. He took off his cowboy hat and ran a hand through his short hair. “It was good meeting you, Ben Marshall.”

  “You too, Harlan Bennett.” Ben grinned bravely, but inside he was breaking. This was wrong.

  Please, Harlan. Ask me to come back.

  But Harlan didn’t speak again. He made to shake Ben’s hand, but screw that.

  Ben pulled him into a hug, imprinting the feel of that solid muscular body next to his one last time. “I hope to see you again someday.”

  A WEEK HAD PASSED, and Ben still couldn’t stop thinking about Harlan and Tanner. He had never felt more like he’d belonged anywhere, with anyone, than he had with them. Harlan made his heart pound and his pulse race. Harlan and his son had welcomed him into their home, made him feel like a part of their small family—albeit reluctantly on Harlan’s part—and Ben had realized that it was exactly what he wanted.

  And wasn’t that the whole purpose of his road trip? To figure out what he wanted for his life?

  He loved playing for audiences, but since leaving Santa Bella, the energy didn’t feed him the way it used to. He found himself scanning the crowd every night for that sexy cowboy leaning back by the bar, undressing Ben with his mesmerizing green eyes.

  What he wanted most wasn’t to be out on the road playing bars and small venues. It wasn’t fame and fortune and touring the world. It didn’t matter he if had an audience of two or two thousand. If he never played for anyone other than Harlan and Tanner for the rest of his life, he’d be in heaven. He could even travel with Harlan during rodeo season and play a few shows along the way.

  He had to go back.

  He was only booked for one more three-night stint in San Diego, and then his schedule was wide-open. He would go back. He had to see if what had sparked between them was still there, and if that something could grow into more. The signs were there. He’d felt it deep in his bones, where Harlan had settled himself without Ben even realizing until he’d left.

  “I didn’t know what I was looking for was you,” Ben whispered in the empty room of another nondescript roadside motel.

  That was it! He jumped from the bed and grabbed his notebook. Flipping open to a blank page, he began penning an original song for Harlan.

  Charlie and Cooper followed Harlan outside and raced ahead toward the paddocks to round up the horses while Harlan put a bucket of grain and a couple flakes of grass-alfalfa mix in each stall. The routine used to be soothing, something he enjoyed rather than a chore. Lately, though, ever since Ben had left, everything seemed dull. Harlan had never thought he’d feel this way again. He and Jason had been together seven years, and he’d been deeply in love with his husband. He’d known Ben less than a week, and for whatever reason, his absence hurt nearly as much. More, even. And Harlan had known it was coming from the start.

  He walked out to the paddock, where the dogs danced around the small herd as they made their way toward the gate. Poco led the way and flattened her ears at the dogs. Normally their antics would bring a smile to Harlan’s face, but he hadn’t found much worth smiling about recently.

  He whistled, and the dogs obediently ran back to his side, staying out of the way as he opened the gate. The horses knew the routine and walked single file into the barn and to their own stalls, where they enthusiastically dug into their dinners. Harlan went about checking each horse over before closing their doors and settling them in for the night—Doc’s hind leg was healing nicely from the soft tissue injury a couple of weeks back, which was a relief.

  Both dogs’ ears perked up and they bolted out of the barn. Charlie nearly tripped Harlan on his way.

  “What the hell, you two?” he grumbled. They were probably off to chase opossums.

  “I wrote a song for you.”

  The familiar baritone startled Harlan as he closed the last stall door. He spun around, and there stood Ben in the barn entry, backpack over one shoulder, guitar case in hand, and two crazy Aussies dancing around his legs vying for his attention. Harlan’s heart shot into his throat, cutting off his ability to speak. Even if he had been able to form words, his mind was still trying to figure out what his eyes were seeing.

  “I . . . um . . .” Ben stuck his free hand in his jacket pocket. His Adam’s apple bobbed. “I got to San Diego and found what I’d set out on the road to find.”

  Harlan’s heart sank. Ben came all the way back to tell him that? He would rather Ben had not come back at all. Not able to keep looking at what he couldn’t have, he turned away to double-check that the stall door he’d just closed was . . . still closed.

  “It’s here. With you,” Ben said with a note of hope in his gritty rumble of a voice. “If you’d be willing to give us a try.”

  Harlan snapped his head back to face Ben, and the roller coaster in his chest crested another hill. Yes, he wanted to shout, but his vocal cords remained stuck.

  “Unless I read everything wrong?” Ben’s shoulders lowered as an eyebrow rose, and his body seemed to close in on itself. “I-I’m sorry, I sh-should g—”

  Harlan’s paralysis broke. He ran to Ben, crashing into him. He cupped his face in both hands and kissed him like his life depended on it. Like Ben was an oasis in the desert. Like Harlan hadn’t taken a full breath of air since Ben had left and now that he was back, Harlan could finally breathe again.

  Without breaking the kiss, Ben let his backpack slide off his shoulder and dropped his guitar case to the ground. Both his arms wrapped around Harlan and pulled him close, their bodies pressed together so tightly not even a feather could squeeze between them.

  “I missed you,” Harlan panted against Ben’s mouth, eliciting a groan that reverberated along Harlan’s every nerve ending.

  “Me too.” Ben ground against him. “Please say we can try?”

  “We can try,” Harlan quickly answered between kisses, sliding his hands into Ben’s hair and knocking off his cowboy hat. “Starting now. Tan’s at swim lessons.”

  Harlan stepped back, his chest rising and falling with rapid, feverish breaths. He grabbed Ben’s hand with one of his own and picked up the guitar case with the other. Ben retrieved his backpack, and Harlan led him into the house with long, urgent strides. The dogs jumped and danced and barked along with them, excited about their humans’ fun new game. But when they reached the back door, Harlan locked them in the mudroom.

  “Stay,” he commanded. Ben was all his right now. The dogs could play with him tomorrow. Harlan huffed a hysterical-sounding laugh. There would be a tomorrow, and another after that, and another . . .

  Harlan dropped the guitar case on the couch as they passed through the living room, and Ben’s backpack ended up somewhere on the floor. He really didn’t care where. The only thing that mattered right then was Ben naked in his bed.

  “Clothes off,” he ordered when they entered his bedroom. He let go of Ben’s hand and attacked his shirt buttons like they were a crime, hiding all the glory that was Ben underneath.

  “Right to it, eh?” Ben teased as his shirt fell to the floor.

  “Can’t wait.” Harlan left Ben to finish undressing himself, and he made quick work of stripping out of his own clothes. “Feels like I’ve been waiting forever.”

  Naked, finally, Harlan paused to take in the glorious sight of Ben standing proud and uninhibited before him. Here. In his house. His room. Soon, his bed. His hair was messy, and his heart-melting brown eyes shone with so much intensity that Harlan could feel it like a physical touch. His body was lean and his muscles sharply defined. Dark hair swirled over his pecs and abdomen, leading down to the most beautiful fully erect cock Harlan had ever laid eyes and hands and mouth on.

  “Come here,” he said hoarsely.

  Ben closed the few feet between them like a bullet, and Harlan tumbled onto the bed under the force of Ben’s weight. The blazing heat of his skin seared every inch of Harlan where they touched—branding him, burning, setting him on fire. A flurry of hands caressed and massaged, pinched and grabbed, and Harlan lost track of which were his and which were Ben’s.

  “I want you to ride me,” he rasped.

  “Yessss,” Ben hissed, kissing and sucking his way along Harlan’s collarbone, up the column of his neck, and over his jawline.