Axes & O’s

26. Fox

Chapter 26

Fox

I pour water from the kettle over a bag of chamomile tea. Morgan and Nathan are asleep, having gone to bed shortly after dinner. I had planned to see where else we could take Nathan tonight, but the exhaustion coming from both of them was palpable. I was exhausted, too, but I woke up shortly after midnight, the house too quiet from the snow that continued to fall outside.

I tried to go back to sleep, but my mind begun to race. And while I love cuddling with my wife or using her body to my liking while she rests, the last time I cleared the snow was this morning. So I’d gotten up and dressed quietly before heading to the mudroom to put on my winter gear and a headlamp.

Thankfully, the snow had reduced to a light flurry, and I was able to clear a lot of it from the front door and walkway. By the time I was done, my body was tired, but my mind was still wired, which brought me to the kitchen after I’d changed into a pair of flannel pants and a long-sleeved cotton shirt.

I sit down at the kitchen table, dipping the tea bag in and out of the green mug, watching the water turn a yellowish color. Thoughts of what happened in the living room with Nathan are at the forefront of my mind. He’d done more than I expected him to, even going so far as to get himself off on my leg. Not only did that prove to me yet again that I was right about him, but he also impressed me. I liked that he was willing to push himself outside of his comfort zone so quickly and enjoy himself.

I thought that maybe after the hormones cooled off, he’d regret what happened. But after we’d cleaned up and had dinner, he was in a good mood. We got to know him better over dinner, learning more of his past and why he quit his job. Eventually, he even started joking with Morgan—his belly laughs alongside my wife’s were still humming in my ears.

Nathan even attempted to ask me questions, though most of them were related to the storm. He wanted to know what the sheriff had said earlier and if there was any news on the weather. There wasn’t, we were still stuck here, and I could feel his disappointment when I reiterated he would probably miss Christmas with his family.

A thought strikes me, one I hadn’t fully considered before: Nathan would be spending this holiday with us, a day that seems to mean a great deal to him. Sure, Morgan and I like Christmas, but aside from the tradition he disrupted, a good meal, and a lot of sex, it is just another day for us. For Nathan, it appears to be different. I wonder about his family’s traditions, whether they exchange gifts and if he takes pleasure in giving them.

“Um, hey.”

My heart jumps in my chest as I lift my gaze to Nathan’s. He’s staring down at me with bleary eyes, his face apologetic.

I inhale and attempt to regain my bearings without him noticing I was off to begin with. I don’t like that I didn’t hear him approach. It’s rare that I’m not paying attention to my surroundings, and I’m annoyed that I was distracted by thoughts of the very person now in front of me getting and giving Christmas presents.

When I don’t say anything, he takes a tentative step forward. He’s shirtless, and the sweats he was in earlier are in the wash, so he’s got on a pair of mine. They’re several sizes too big, so he has them rolled down around his trim waist so they don’t fall.

“Sorry if I startled you; I couldn’t sleep.”

“You didn’t,” I lie .

He stares at me for a moment in the dim light. Not wanting to wake anyone, I only turned on the light over the kitchen sink, so it leaves Nathan mostly in darkness, lighting him only from the front.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

I don’t remove my eyes from his, dropping the tea bag in my mug before standing. “Fine.”

Nathan doesn’t move, but I can feel him watching my back. When I get to the cupboard, I turn my head toward him. “Do you like tea?”

He blinks at me, his eyes clearer now as he becomes more coherent. “Can’t say I drink too much of it. But it sounds good.”

I pull down a red mug for him and then a bag of chamomile. The water is still hot in the kettle, so I pour it over the bag before I approach the kitchen table again. To my surprise, Nathan is seated. But that’s not what gets me—it’s the fact that he’s chosen the seat at the head of the table so he’s sitting close to me instead of across from me.

I school my features to show no reaction and put the mug in front of him before taking my place again. For a few minutes, Nathan and I sip our tea in silence. The sound of his breathing and the creak of the wood from him shifting in his chair only adds to me being on edge. It’s not Nathan’s fault, either. I think my mind is trying to catch up with everything that’s happened today and the unexpected feelings being with him has brought up—all of which led to me being distracted.

Nathan’s voice cuts through my thoughts. “Thank you for the tea.”

I lift my eyes from my mug and nod in response.

The corner of his lip twitches. “You really don’t like to talk that much, do you?”

“Like I said before, I speak when I need to.”

Hurt flashes across Nathan’s face at the implication of my words, and I clench my jaw. I don’t like that I hurt him, but I struggle to know what to say to make it better. This is just how I am.

After another awkward moment, Nathan moves to stand. On impulse, my hand darts out and wraps around his wrist, my fingers pressing gently into his thrumming pulse point.

“Stay.”

Nathan’s unsure eyes meet mine, and I hold the contact, passing a silent apology through them. I watch as he thinks through his options, vulnerability pooling in the earth tones of his irises before he finally sits back down.

If I allowed it, I would’ve exhaled a breath of relief, but I swallow it down. I gently release his wrist, trailing my fingers over the top of his hand. I don’t miss how he shivers from the gentle caress or how he clears his throat as if that’ll hide his reaction.

“I was in the military.” The confession spills from me as I sit back in my chair. It’s the only thing I could think to say. It’s also an offering of sorts, to help him understand me a bit more. Yet a part of me wonders why I felt compelled to do it.

Nathan stills as he absorbs my words. Then a little bit of the tension in his shoulders dissipates as he eases back into his own chair. “I remember Morgan saying that. Afghanistan?”

Right. I forgot she’d mentioned it to him earlier. “Yes. I was in the infantry at eighteen, then I went into Special Forces.”

“I’ll admit, I don’t know much about the military. But that sounds impressive.”

I finger the string of my tea bag but don’t break eye contact with him. It is considered impressive, but to me, it’s just part of my past. “It’s a job,” I state.

A gentle smile plays on his lips. “Silent and humble.” I glare at him, and he chuckles. “So did you retire, then?”

My knee twinges at the question. “Injured on a mission.”

Nathan’s brow pinches in concern. “Badly?”

“Shrapnel to the knee. ”

He nods, tapping the side of his mug. I can tell he wants to ask more but is afraid to, so I throw him a bone.

“In the end, I was lucky,” I supply, but that is all I give him. What’s done is done, and speaking about it again and again won’t change what happened. I’m also starting to edge into territory I don’t like to cross with people other than Morgan. I didn’t even share a lot of my past with Gabriel—it’s one of the reasons he left.

“How long ago was that?”

“Ten years.”

Nathan cocks his head to the side. “How old were you?”

“Twenty-five.”

Nathan pauses again, thinking over his words carefully before his lips part. “But you’re okay now?” His question is soft, a deeper question behind it. One that tells me he’s not only asking about my knee.

“Most days.” The honesty of my answer brings a flash of sympathy to his face, reminding me why I tend to keep things to myself.

Likely sensing the change in my energy, Nathan lights up his expression with a gentle smile. “I’m curious, though. How does a man who was once in Special Forces decide to be a lumberjack?”

“Logger,” I correct, grateful for the segue.

“Right. Logger.”

“Morgan’s doing. Like she mentioned, she has a degree in forestry, and it’s one of her passions.”

“You don’t like it?”

I think of the life I live with my wife, the only woman I’ve ever loved and have since the moment she kneed a douchey kid in the balls for calling me a freak with no parents. The memory still makes my heart expand to this day. “I like it. It’s a job.”

“That wasn’t convincing.”

“She deserves to do something she loves after putting up with me and the military for seven years. ”

Nathan taps the side of his mug again. “So you do this work for her?”

“Yes. But also for me.” And that’s the truth. “I like the woods. I like physical labor and the work we do for the planet. Her passion has become my passion.”

Nathan nods, though he doesn’t seem convinced. Not that he has to be, and I understand why since I didn’t exactly sell my love for what we do. But I do enjoy it, and not just the physical work of logging—it also requires a lot of mental work on the backend since we own the business.

I run numbers, do paperwork, work on government contracts, and manage employees alongside my wife. I also love that we do it together. It makes me happy to see how proud Morgan is of what we’ve built over the years, and she gets to use her degree. As far as I’m concerned, we’ll do this work until the day we decide to retire—or until Morgan wants to quit, which I don’t ever see happening.

“Maybe if the snow lets up, you and Morgan could teach me.”

My eyebrows lift in question, wondering what he’d want to learn given his love for surfing and the beach.

“Teach you what?” I ask.

“How to chop wood.”

My eyebrows stay up as I study Nathan. If I ignore that I know he loves the beach, the visual of him swinging an axe is a nice one. He’s an attractive man, a strong one, and with the stubble growing on his jaw, he’d fit right in among me and the other scruffy men who work with us in no time.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to,” Nathan says.

I shake my head, feeling bad that he took my silence as a no. “If you want, we can show you.”

His small grin returns. “That would be nice.”

The kitchen goes quiet again, and I push my near empty mug away, feeling more awake than I did before. In the silence, I debate what to say next or if I should say anything at all. But once again, Nathan fills the dead air, as if the lack of talking makes him anxious.

“Can I ask you something?” His question is unsure, and by the way he rubs his jaw shyly, I think he wants to take the question back. But I nod my permission and gesture with my hand for him to continue before he can.

His fingers flex around his mug. “I guess it’s not really a question, but this afternoon was…” His gaze drops down to his hands as he pauses. “The first time I’ve…well, the first time I’ve touched another man like that.”

I wait for his eyes to meet mine. I knew that already, but some of the edge I’ve been feeling settles inside at his willingness to talk about it.

“How do you feel now that you have?” I ask.

Nathan sits up straighter in his chair as if he didn’t expect me to respond the way that I had. “Good, I think. Fine. But I’m confused.”

I tip my chin in understanding. “It’s okay to feel that way.”

Nathan pushes his own mug away. “Can you tell me how it felt for you?”

“The first time I was with a man?”

He nods.

“Freeing.”

Nathan stares at me, his gaze intense as if he’s trying to read every thought and feeling in my head. “Did you always know?”

“That I like men and women?”

Nathan nods again.

“Since I was a teen, though Morgan helped me realize it was okay that I did.”

A warm grin caresses his lips, as if he’s thinking about his time with Morgan today. It hits me in the gut more than I thought it would, and I’m glad that he already feels safe with her, that she clearly has the same effect on him that she has on me. That she has on many people. It’s what makes Morgan Morgan .

“You know what’s strange? I never thought about it until—” He runs his fingertips over the grain of the table before meeting my eyes. “Until I saw you.”

My heart thuds in my chest, and I think my breathing stops for a moment.

He exhales roughly and shakes his head at himself. “Sorry, that was weird. I should say, I guess, I never let myself think about it. Or at least, not that I can remember.”

I swallow hard, the muscles in my throat tense. “Sometimes we ignore what’s right in front of us or what we already know because it’s easier than seeing the truth.”

Nathan stares at me like I have three heads.

“What?” I question.

He lets out a tense chuckle. “I guess I just never thought I’d hear you say something like that.”

“Just because I don’t talk a lot doesn’t mean I can’t be insightful.”

He holds up his hands. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way; I liked it.” After a beat of silence, he speaks again. “I’ve been wracking my brain, wondering how I could’ve ignored something like that about myself. Was I that repressed in my life?”

“I don’t think I can answer that for you, Nathan.”

He scratches his chin nervously. “Yeah, I know. Sorry—it’s why I couldn’t sleep. I kept thinking that maybe something’s wrong with me, you know?”

I nod, because I do know. I spent many years believing that, and only by stopping was I free from the dark ideas and thoughts that plagued me. Ideas and thoughts I only had because of hateful and na?ve people.

I scoot my chair forward then lean in so I’m closer to Nathan. He watches me with interest, but he doesn’t tense or move away.

“Close your eyes,” I say.

He blinks, the knot in his throat bobbing. I know he’s nervous at my closeness, but there’s nothing in his body language that tells me he wants me to move away. His eyes even track to my mouth, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as if he’s anticipating a kiss.

When his eyes move back to meet mine, he finally nods and closes them.

“Take a breath, Nathan.”

He immediately inhales, and I smile gently at his submission.

“Now exhale it out.”

He does that, too.

“Now again.”

I have him complete the cycle a few more times until his shoulders fall and his jaw relaxes enough that his mouth parts slightly.

“Now open your eyes for me.”

His eyes flutter open. They’re softer now, his trepidation replaced with curiosity, the same curiosity I saw when he watched me and Morgan together and again when he was at my feet. I place my hand on his and gently squeeze it, making sure his eyes are focused on me before I speak in a commanding tone.

“Nothing is wrong with you, Nathan.” I squeeze his hand harder. “Nothing.”

He sucks in another breath, and for a moment, I’m afraid I went too far. Yes, we’ve been intimate, but not in this way. This is something bigger, deeper. It’s a moment he’ll carry with him for the rest of his life, regardless of if this thing between the three of us continues.

I go to pull my hand away, but he grabs it, stopping its movement.

Nathan’s eyes are open and clear when I study them now, an emotion I can’t place shining in their depths. “Fox.” He pauses, running his thumb over the heart tattoo on my wrist. I don’t know if he knows he’s doing it, but the action is tender and sweet. “Will you kiss me?”

Blood thrums in my veins, and my body feels as if it’s become a live wire. For a split second, I almost grant his request, the desire to taste him almost winning out. But it’s not in my nature to fold that easily.

“No, Nathan.” His face falls, and he leans back like I thought he might, but now, I’m the one stopping him. “But you can kiss me.”

His eyes saucer, but the reaction is fleeting. Before I can quite register his action, Nathan’s lips are on mine, and his fresh scent is surrounding me.

I let it happen, knowing that he needs this. Needs to take the lead right now and feel me open to him. His tongue pushes at the seam of my lips, begging for entry, so I let him in. His lips are dominating, hard, and his taste is minty, which tells me he brushed his teeth before coming out here, a sign that maybe he was hoping this would happen.

The knowledge of this flips a switch inside me. All my prior thoughts exit my mind, and it instead fills with the reasons I felt he could be a good partner for us in the first place. I don’t need to think about anything else right now except him and that feeling in my gut.

My hand clamps onto the back of his neck, and Nathan groans as my fingers dig into the muscle there. I tighten my grip, taking full control of the kiss. Instinctively, he understands, surrendering the lead. His mouth opens, and I draw his tongue into mine as he leans in closer.

Acting on impulse, I pull him toward me until he’s practically in my lap. He doesn’t hesitate—instead, his hand cups my cheek, fingers threading through my beard as he pulls us even closer until our bodies fit together like perfect puzzle pieces.

My chest smarts, and I push it away, kissing him harder, taking him in and burning this moment into my memory before I finally force myself to pull away. I want this to go further, but I also need it to stop. Not because I want it to or because I don’t think Nathan wants it to, but because Morgan needs to be here with us. She’ll already be sad she missed our first kiss, and I never play without my wife. It’s just how we work together.

We take a moment to catch our breath, Nathan’s hand still gripping the hair of my beard and my fingers still holding onto the back of his neck. Our eyes meet, both of our mouths swollen and chests still heaving.

Nathan’s mouth opens to say something, but I silence him with a short kiss. “Did that feel wrong to you?”

Nathan shakes his head. “No.” He drops his hand to my shoulder, and a smile tugs at his lips. “It felt right.”

With his answer filling my chest, I pull back and stand. He’s confused for a moment, but then I gesture for him to follow me.

“Where are we going?”

“To bed.” Nathan’s face morphs to that of hurt and confusion, and I grab his jaw before his thoughts run wild. “My wife is probably cold without us, don’t you think?”

His sadness transforms to mischief like a budding leaf in spring.

“Yes, you’re probably right.”

My eyes crinkle at the corners, and I tap his cheek. “I’m always right, Nathan.”