“Thought you could buy yourself your own stuff to go around the place.” Robbie waved a hand around the place. “Knickknacks and frames and all,” he said.

“And my gift is in here,” Eli said and pulled the large closet doors open dramatically to reveal clothes of every color crammed into the space: pants, jeans, shirts, T-shirts, sweat pants and tops—even a jacket. He gestured to the bottom where shoes sat in a neat row. “Guessed on the size compared to your boots,” he said. “But I can get any size you want.”

“I can’t take that,” Liam said immediately. “I don’t need charity.” As soon as he said the words he wanted to pull them back, but Eli didn’t look offended.

“Yes, you can. It’s all stuff from shoots, some of it may be too big on you, but you can just pass anything you don’t want back to me. I get clothes left after sessions all the time and a lot of the fashion models are your height and weight, all sleek and tall. Right, we’re going. Just wanted to welcome you to your new home.”

“We hope you’ll be as happy here as we were,” Robbie added softly. He stepped toward Liam, then gave him a manly back-slapping hug before moving aside and letting Eli do the same. When they closed the door after leaving abruptly, Liam was inside his place with his things and he didn’t know what to feel first, terror or excitement. The bed was solid wood, and Jack had gotten a new mattress in for him. There was navy bedding on the quilt and the place smelled of laundry detergent and sunshine. Two windows gave different perspectives of the ranch. One faced the ranch house, the other the horses. In front of that window was a small square table and two chairs.

Liam placed his bag on the table and went to look at the rest of the place. He was familiar with the small shower room with its toilet and sink because he’d used the shower before, but he was less so with the kitchen. Along with the usual cupboards, which held boxes from cereals to pasta and coffee to packages of cookies, there was a small fridge, with a gratefully received bottle of beer in the door decorated with a red bow. Nice touch. The stove looked fairly new and the window in the kitchen also faced the horses.

He could have Marcus visit here. They’d exchanged texts nearly every hour since that night they’d cuddled in the barn. It had only been a few days, but to Liam it was too long.

In my new place, he texted. Want dinner? I have ramen noodles and Cap’n Crunch.

He didn’t have to wait long so Marcus probably wasn’t in a meeting. You know the way to my <3.

Grasping the iron while it was hot, he texted back immediately. He needed to make some memories in this place to make him feel less alone. Tonight?

Late meeting at 7. I’ll bring wine, be there at 9 :) xx

Smiling, Liam felt like he needed to add a text that would make Marcus smile. I have one bottle of beer with a bow on it.

LOL. See you at 9.

Suddenly his new home felt more like his. He had invited Marcus to visit, and Marcus had said yes. And he was bringing wine. Now all Liam needed to do was go beg ingredients from Jack and Riley, and he could actually make something better than bowls of ramen and cereal.

He wasn’t without skills in the kitchen.

* * * * *

Marcus stopped the car at the entrance to the D, right under the metal sign, and tapped his thumbs on the steering wheel in time to the song on the radio station. He couldn’t identify what it was, but it had a rhythm that had him humming along so somehow he must have heard it before.

Something had changed over the last few days of texting with Liam, and nerves spun inside him as he contemplated the night ahead. Liam had explicitly invited him over for ramen and cereal, nothing else. Not kissing or maybe even some under-clothes touching, but Marcus could hope.

Thing is, he’d done research, even while he was texting and teasing and even with all the flirting, he’d read up on things he never thought he’d ever read. Male rape, PTSD, hate attacks. He hadn’t realized just how sheltered he’d been in his family where his parents accepted who he was with no trouble and where his twin sister had his back. Panic fluttered in his chest and without a second thought he pressed speed dial one for the only person who would calm him down.

“Hey,” Marcie said immediately.

“I need your advice.”

“I thought we’d done this. You look good in the green shirt.”

“It’s not the shirt. It’s Liam.”

“What’s wrong? Did you get there already?” Marcus heard the noise across the phone of his sister slumping into the sofa, and she obviously checked the time. “It’s nine? You said nine.” He could picture her on the dark leather sofa propped up by all the brightly colored cushions she favored in her apartment.

“I’m not there yet. I can’t get past the damn front entrance.”

Marcie didn’t say anything for a pause. “Metaphorically or physically,” she asked.

“Considering I am sitting under the Double D sign about a mile from the main ranch, I am thinking I am mentally blocked here.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s not like other guys. He’s different, but he has a past, and shit, how am I going to sit in his place and not touch him.”

“Okay, so touching him is a bad thing.”

“I just want to kiss him all the time, and he’s…he hasn’t had good experiences.”

“You’re not out to hurt him, Marcus, you don’t have it in you. Just go and eat and talk and stop overthinking this.”

Marcus smiled in the dark. Somehow Marcie always appeared to balance out his procrastinating. “Is that your sisterly advice?”

“Is it enough to get you to move your ass toward this guy?”

“Night, sis.”

“Night.”

Call finished, he started the car again, and in a few minutes he was parking outside the ranch house. Without hesitation he headed for the metal stairs that took him up to Liam’s new place, then knocked on the door.

Liam answered immediately, grinning widely. He looked so good in a black T-shirt that fitted him closely and jeans that molded to his legs. Marcus held up the bottle of wine he’d bought on the way over.

“I went for white, thought it would go well with ramen.”

Liam grinned and moved aside to let him in. The tempting smells of tomato and garlic wafted from where Marcus assumed the kitchen was, and a small table was set with cutlery and glass tumblers.

Liam continued, “I don’t have wine glasses or anything like that yet. I need to hit Target and use the gift card Robbie gave me. Hell, wait here.” He left the main room through a door and into the kitchen and Marcus followed to see him rummaging through the only drawer in the cupboard. “Fuck,” he snapped. “I don’t have a corkscrew or a bottle opener or…” He trailed off and pushed the drawer shut with another mumbled curse. Marcus could see the tension in Liam’s body language.

“It doesn’t matter,” Marcus protested. “I don’t want to drink. I’m kind of tired.” He winced as he said this. Liam wasn’t stupid, he’d see the words for what they were—a way of making Liam feel better.

“I should have thought,” Liam said with an accompanying crestfallen expression which lasted a few seconds before he hid the reaction. “I was looking at having a stove and a bed and my own shower, but I guess there’s a lot more to this thing.” He sounded overwhelmed and an edge of self-criticism colored his tone.

Marcus wanted excited-Liam back, the one who had met him at the door with a smile filled with confident purpose. How was he going to handle this? Albeit not on purpose, he was responsible for the blank look in Liam’s gray eyes.

“Tell me how it feels when you shut the door behind you. That’s the important thing. Is it a cool place? Cozy? Is the bed comfortable? Does your shower work okay?”