Red dirt heart 4, p.19
Red Dirt Heart 4, page 19
“Just fuck me,” he whined, pushing his ass on to my finger.
I quickly added another finger, and he snapped, “Travis.”
There it was. That was his I-can’t-wait-another-fucking-second growl.
So I poured more lube over his ass again, rubbed the slick over my cock, lined up with his hole and pushed into him in one long thrust.
Charlie fisted the quilt and lifted his ass. And he moaned. Lord have mercy, how he moaned.
I knew I wouldn’t last long. I didn’t want to take my time. I wanted to fuck him, hard. I wanted him to know that he was in my old bed, and only him. Barely giving him time to adjust, with my legs outside his, I began to thrust.
His jeans, still around his thighs, and mine, with only the button and fly open, spoke of our urgency. This wouldn’t wait.
I leaned over him, pressing my weight on him, pushing every inch of me inside him. “Only you,” I whispered in his ear with each thrust. “Only. You.”
A high-pitched whine escaped him, and he pushed his head down and his ass up. I rammed into him over and over, deeper, harder, chasing my orgasm until pure pleasure rolled through me, unfurling from my belly and unloading into his ass.
I collapsed on top of him, only pulling out when the room had stopped spinning. I rolled him onto his side so he faced me, took his half-hard cock in my hand and started to pump him. I kissed him, a twirling of tongues and soft whimpers until he came.
I didn’t care what mess we were covered in. I pulled the blankets over us and held him tight against me. “Who’s been in this bed with me?” I asked.
He mumbled sleepily into my shirt. “Only me.”
“Who am I in love with?”
“Only me.”
“Who did I swear my heart to? With the desert as my witness, who became my husband?”
I felt him smile against my chest. “Only me.”
I kissed the side of his head, and we slept.
* * * *
Despite the not long enough two-hour nap, I was excited to see my brother and sisters. Charlie, on the other hand, was nervous as hell.
Michael and Jess arrived first with their two kids in tow. My nephews, Joshua and Jacob, were loud.
Next to arrive was Paige with her three kids, Hamish, Brianna and little Emily. Casey and her boyfriend Ben arrived not long after that.
Charlie had spoken to them all via Skype before, so he wasn’t at a complete loss, and I’d reminded him of who they all were when we were getting dressed.
Michael was the eldest, six years older than me. Then came Paige, three years older than me, then there was Casey, who was born when I was two.
But everyone was there and the decibels were at eardrum-bursting levels, and to say Charlie was overwhelmed was probably an understatement. To say my family was all over him like a summer heat rash was an even bigger understatement.
Casey, who people thought was a lot like me, had him cornered. “Say ‘G’day, mate’,” Casey said, like she’d found a new toy.
Charlie blinked. “Pardon?”
Casey snorted. “Oh my God, you totally sound like Steve Irwin. Say ‘crikey’!”
Charlie stared at her, blinked twice, then turned slowly to look at me. I cracked up laughing. But he looked so out of sorts, I had to help him. “Casey”—I put my arm around Charlie like a force field—“leave him alone.”
“And listen to you,” she said to me. “You’re sounding more Australian every day, mister.”
“No, I’m not.” I shook my head.
Casey looked to Paige, who looked at Jess, and the three of them stared at me and nodded. “Yeah, you do.”
“I can’t win,” I cried. “Over there, I’m too American, over here I’m too Australian.” I looked at Charlie. “I don’t sound Australian to you, do I?”
He shook his head. “Not at all. Very American.” He shrugged. “Well, I thought you did until I came here. Maybe I’m just used to how you sound, but everyone here is very American.”
We sat around the dining room table while the kids played in the den. It gave us a good chance to talk without yelling over the noise, and Charlie started to relax.
Everyone loved him. I mean, of course they did. How could they not?
They asked him a hundred questions about the station, what he did, and did we really, really live three hours from the nearest town, and really? Just how big is 2.58 million acres?
I updated everyone on what had been going on, told them all about Matilda and Nugget, how Delilah had grown so big, and bragged shamelessly about how good Charlie was acclimating with his new horse. I recounted for them everything he did and how he did it until Charlie gave me a please-shut-up-about-it look.
Everyone spent dinnertime telling Charlie all the stupid things I did as a kid, and by the time we’d had Momma’s homemade sweets, our chairs were pulled together as we chatted with everyone, and he was much more relaxed. And he was dead tired. After he’d stifled another yawn, Momma said, “Oh, Charlie, dear, you can barely keep your eyes open. Go to bed.”
“Oh no,” he said quickly, clearly not wanting to offend anyone. “I’m fine. The trip here knocked me for a six, that’s all.”
Momma blinked. “Knocked you what, dear?”
“For a six,” Charlie answered. When it was pretty obvious no one had a clue what that meant, he explained, “It’s a cricket term. It means knocked me about.”
I chuckled at him. “You’re the one with the weird names for everything here, not me.”
“Weird names for what?” Josh asked. He was my brother’s eldest boy and thought the way Charlie spoke was awesome.
I answered. “Like mozzies and sunnies and snags and chooks and jumpers.”
“Like what?” Josh squealed. “What are those? How silly!”
“Tell me about it!” I agreed. “It’s like a whole other language. And don’t even get me started on their football.” I leaned in toward Josh. “They play it on an oval-shaped field.”
Josh looked at Charlie, then leaned in just like I had. “What’s wrong with them?”
Charlie laughed at that. “Not all our football is played on an oval. We have four different codes of football in Australia.”
A collective “four?” was shouted around the table.
“See?” I told Charlie. “I told you it wasn’t normal.”
Charlie rolled his eyes. “Yes, I apologise for making fun of gridiron.”
“And baseball,” I added, figuring I’d give payback where I could.
“I’m not that sorry,” he said, making my family laugh. I was so glad they got to see a snippet of the real Charlie, of his dry sense of humour, and my absolute favourite, they got to see him smile.
He really did have a killer smile.
And a hell of a yawn.
“Okay,” I said, getting up from the table and waiting for Charlie to stand. “Charlie’s going to bed.”
He didn’t even try to argue, and his blinks were getting longer. He thanked my mom for a wonderful meal, my family for great company, and said goodnight.
I walked him to the stairs and kissed him softly. “You did great.”
“I don’t think your dad likes me,” he whispered. He shrugged as though he wasn’t bothered, but I knew different.
“Yes, he does,” I said. “He has a weird sense of humour. Believe me, he likes you just fine.” I kissed him again. He closed his eyes and had trouble opening them again, he was so tired. “Go to bed, baby. I’m just gonna see them for a few minutes, okay? I won’t be far behind you.”
I watched as Charlie went upstairs, and I walked back to my family. Everyone smiled at me when I walked in, and by the awkward silence, I could tell they were obviously talking about Charlie.
“He’s gorgeous,” Casey said first.
I sat on the sofa by the fire. “I know.”
“He was nervous,” Paige said, “it was the most adorable thing.”
“He’s worried y’all wouldn’t like him.”
“Well, he’s certainly got you all tripped up,” Michael said with a smile.
“Leave your brother alone,” Momma said, giving Michael a look. “Travis, he’s a doll. He’s so polite. His Ma raised him right.”
“She did,” I agreed.
“I thought he was supposed to be some tough Aussie rancher,” Dad said. “You should have seen him at the airport. Couldn’t even handle a little chill.”
Dad’s comment threw me for a second. I couldn’t believe what he’d said, and my tone was a lot harsher than I meant it to be. “He’s born and bred in the desert, Dad. Where a pleasant summer day is a hundred and twenty degrees, so cut him some slack.”
Everyone stared at me, Dad included. If he was joking at Charlie’s expense, I didn’t find it funny. But my father was the respected head of his house, bad jokes and all. I rubbed my eyes and sighed. “Sorry. I’m jet-lagged to hell. I might call it a night. Thanks for coming, everyone. Give us a day or two and we’ll take you all out for lunch or something.”
I left them somewhat mollified by my half-assed apology, and went upstairs. I stripped outta my clothes and slid into bed next to an already softly snoring Charlie. Like a balm to my bad mood, I put my arm around him, snuggled my nose into the back of head, closed my eyes and slept.
* * * *
Charlie and I slept late, but we woke up refreshed and ready for a day of sightseeing. “Coffee’s made, and there’s cereal or toast for breakfast,” Mom said. But after more than two years of having a cooked breakfast before working hard all day, cereal and toast just weren’t gonna cut it.
I went to the fridge, pulled out eggs, bacon, grits and juice and set about cooking us a real Texas breakfast. Charlie sat at the kitchen counter with my mom, and they both smiled at me when I handed him a cup of coffee. They talked as I cooked, and Charlie watched me move around my momma’s kitchen with a familiar ease. I knew where the pans and plates were like I’d never left.
“He looks like he’s done this before,” Momma said. “Cook you breakfast often, does he?”
Charlie smiled. “Never, actually.”
“It’s been a while since I’ve had to cook anything, because Ma and Nara do it all. But contrary to popular belief,” I said as I turned the bacon, “I’m not completely useless.”
Mom’s smile was warm and knowing. “You boys are so in love.”
Charlie choked on his coffee, spilling some down his shirt. Momma handed him a napkin. “The way you look at each other…” she said wistfully. “I can certainly see why Travis decided to stay.”
Charlie had composed himself, but his cheeks were now red. “Um…” he started, then cleared his throat. “Well, I can certainly see where Travis gets his say-whatever’s-on-your-mind trait from.”
I laughed at that. “He’s taken a bit of training on the learning to open up, Mom.”
“No point in wondering what’s not said,” Momma said wisely. “May as well just come out and tell it like it is. That’s what we say, isn’t it, Travis?”
“Well, Travis has no problem in tellin’ it like it is,” Charlie said.
“Can I tell you something?” Momma asked, though I don’t know why because she was gonna tell him regardless of his answer. “When Travis first applied for that student exchange program, I thought it’d be good for him. You know, going off to see the world, travelling. He always was an adventurous soul.” She smiled at me as I put bread in the toaster. “He brought home a list of possible locations. There were a few in Australia to choose from, one in England, one in France, wasn’t it, Travis?”
“Yeah, I think so,” I answered as I turned the bacon.
Momma shook her head. “He saw the name Sutton Station and pointed to it and said ‘There. That’s where I’m going,’ like he just knew.”
Charlie smiled at her. “He told me that.”
“I think a part of me knew he was going for a reason,” she went on. “We just didn’t know what that reason was. Until he told us about you, Charlie. And even when he was here last year when my daddy passed away, I thought he might stay; you know, once he got back here, he wouldn’t want to leave.”
“I thought the same,” Charlie said quietly, apologetically.
Momma nodded. “But it was too much for him, and oh, Charlie, he was so upset when you thought he wasn’t coming back, I just couldn’t stand it.” Momma shook her head, took a deep breath, and composing herself, she smiled. She put her hand on Charlie’s arm. “And now I see why. He’s so in love with you.”
From the look on his face, I’m pretty sure Charlie wanted to die. “Oh,” he stammered. “Well, uh, okay. Um, Trav?”
I snorted. “Momma, leave him alone. You’re embarrassing him.”
“Is that bacon I smell?” Dad’s voice came from the foyer. “Please tell me that’s bacon.”
“It’s bacon,” I answered.
Dad walked into the kitchen from being outside. His cheeks were flushed from the cold and he was, as always, smiling. “Your mother doesn’t let me eat bacon. I get heart-smart bran and two-percent milk instead.”
“I’m looking out for your health.” Mom rolled her eyes.
“Grab another plate,” I told him. “There’s more than enough.”
So we sat around the kitchen counter eating bacon, eggs and toast with hot coffee and cold juice, and I think I found a universal remedy for jet lag. Charlie blanched at the look of grits and refused point-blank to try them. “Makin’ porridge from corn is the most absurd thing I ever heard,” he said, shaking his head. “And then eatin’ it with bacon and eggs?”
I laughed. “It’s so damn good. I’ll have to teach Ma how to cook it.”
Charlie smiled and shook his head at me. “And you think Vegemite is bad.”
“That is the nastiest stuff on the planet,” I said with a laugh as my parents looked on.
Charlie was more himself, though I could still feel Charlie being a little tense around my dad, even with the mood much more relaxed this morning. Gone was the chatting and laughing with my momma Charlie, and in his place was a quiet, I-can’t-say-anything-wrong-if-I-say-nothing-at-all Charlie in front of my dad.
I squeezed his knee under the table, and he was quick to hook his foot around mine. And finally, he smiled.
“So, what have you two got planned for today?” Momma asked.
“Thought I’d take Charlie into town and show him around,” I answered. “Spend the day doing touristy stuff. If I can borrow the truck, that is?”
And that’s exactly what we did. After breakfast, I made Charlie put on a sweater, then his coat, and I got him an old scarf and found a woollen beanie. I put it on him and kissed him with smiling lips. He looked so different all bundled up. I mean, he was probably dressed for a blizzard by our standards, but he simply wasn’t used to this kind of cold. And truth be told, I wasn’t either. I’d grown accustomed to the warmer weather of the Outback, and my teeth were chattering as we ran to the truck.
Except we both ran to the wrong sides of the vehicle.
“Goddammit,” I said, and Charlie laughed as we ran around to the correct sides of the truck. “I’ve spent almost three years getting in the wrong side back home, then I come here and get it wrong too!” I said as I started the truck, pushing any buttons that might be the heat.
Charlie rubbed his hands together and grinned. His teeth were chattering too. “You gonna be able to drive a left-hand drive?”
I raised one eyebrow at him. “You wanna try it?”
He blanched. “Wrong side of the car, wrong side of the road, in sleety, shitty conditions. Do you have a death wish?”
“I take it that’s a no.”
“That’s a hell no,” he said quickly. “And I’ll never take the piss outta you for not likin’ to drive back home.”
I laughed at that, then adjusted the heat again until it was perfect and found a better radio station than what my dad listened to. “Bit different now the shoe’s on the other foot, ain’t it?”
Charlie nodded. “Yep. And God, Trav, I couldn’t believe your mum said that stuff to me. I almost died.”
I laughed at him and started down the drive. “Your face was priceless.”
“You lot certainly don’t hold anything back, do ya?”
“Nope.” Before turning onto the road, I stopped the truck and grinned at him. I leaned over the centre console and waited for him to do the same so I could give him a kiss. “And you look really cute in that beanie, by the way.”
“Oh. Um, thanks?”
“You ready to see the sights of Texas?”
He looked me over. “I get to see the best of Texas every day. But if you insist on dragging me into this miserable weather, I won’t complain.”
I snorted. “Yes you will. And Charlie? Wanna know the best thing about this kind of weather?”
“We don’t have it back home?”
I laughed at him. “Well, there’s that. But no, when we get back this afternoon, I can make hot cocoa and we can sit by the fire in the den until we thaw out. Maybe watch a movie.”
He must have liked that idea because he smiled. “Will it be Die Hard?”
I pulled the truck out onto the road in the direction of town. “Not if I can help it, no.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Charlie and my father.
The next couple of days at my parents’ house was busy. We spent time visiting my sisters and my brother, and Charlie spent afternoons by the fire answering his emails—still unable to stop working from the other side of the planet. I took him to my old schools, to my old hangouts and to the mall, where we bought gifts for everyone back home. I wanted him to see these places so when I spoke of them, he’d be able to picture it in his head. But I also wanted him to see the places that shaped my childhood.
And that included visiting Mrs Newell.
We’d only driven a few hundred yards from the ranch when I pulled the truck down someone else’s drive. “Who are we seeing this time?” he asked. He’d been patient with all the sightseeing and visiting we’d been doing, though I think he was a little grateful just to be away from my dad.
