Love of the Wild (5 page)

Jim was loath to admit he wasn’t sure he could make it there himself. Which was worse? That he try it himself and fall flat on his face before Dak, or that he allow Dak to help him and be close to a man who made him feel inadequate? Both were miserable options.

Yet, here he was, apparently putting down roots, unable to stay away from the man. It seemed fate conspired against them, throwing them together regardless of their personal wishes.

“Sure. Thanks.” Jim sat up, maneuvered himself to the edge of the bed, and let Dak aid him up on his feet. Hobbling a bit, Jim managed to move around, with Dak holding his arm so he wouldn’t tumble like a freshly cut tree.

Without speaking, they walked outside, the night wind chill and dry. Dak guided Jim to the back of the cabin. There, under the shade of trees, shielded from prying eyes by a wooden stall and tucked against the cabin’s back wall, was a claw-footed bathtub. A rickety canopy protected it from harsh weather. No pipes connected the tub to any kind of plumbing or running water.

Jim wondered briefly how the man had filled it with steaming-hot water. Then he saw a freestanding stone fireplace a few paces from the cabin, under a wooden canopy, with crescent-shaped stone benches on either side. Above the fire, water slowly boiled in a huge iron pot, steam rising toward the sky, and beside the fireplace on the ground were wooden buckets full of additional water.

Jim had to conclude Dak had gone all the way to the river and carried water to the tub just for him. His throat constricting with emotions, Jim swallowed hard. “You did all this for me?”

Dak shifted his weight from one foot to another, frowning. He motioned toward the tub. “Use the stool for your clothes. I’ve put some stone slabs beside the tub so you can stand on them to wash yourself without getting soap in the tub. There’s soap and shampoo on the shelf by the wall.” Then he seemed to run out of advice, and he cleared his throat. “Do you need help with your clothes or, um, anything else?”

Like washing my back—or lower?
Jim shook his head. “No, thank you. I think I can manage by myself.” Highly aware of his savior’s presence, Jim inched closer to the enclosure until he was able to close the stall door and shut out the man who made his blood boil.

He didn’t hear Dak leave—no scrunching of soil—but Jim assumed the man had departed. Jim let out a long sigh. His legs felt like jelly, his head spun with the head injury or all the fresh air, and his dick demanded relief from the constant erections since he’d met the mysterious Dak.

“This is so stupid…. Get a grip, man,” he chided himself and his wayward thoughts.

He made his way to the wooden stool by the tub and sat down to remove his shoes. He took off his clothes, laid them on the stool, and stepped into the tub. The water was hot and fresh, and he sank in slowly, moaning with pleasure.

As he leaned against the edge of the tub, he observed the waning evening. Night was about to fall, but the lantern hanging from the roof by a metal hook provided balmy illumination, enough to see what he was doing. The smell of smoke and fire mixed with the scent of pines and woods in general. Jim had always loved the outdoors. That was one of the reasons for his choice of careers out in the field. Even now, as he began to feel the ache of age in his bones, he still loved it.

Dak had been right. As Jim lay submerged in steaming-hot water his worries melted into the bath, draining him of tension. The low thudding in his head ceased, and his ankle stopped throbbing. He would be all right.

“Here,” Dak spoke suddenly from behind the stall door, startling Jim. “I brought you a change of clean clothes. And a cup of something hot.” Since the door didn’t lock, Dak was able to enter without difficulty. Jim drew in a sharp breath at his sudden appearance, but Dak didn’t look at him once. He carried an extra stool, placed the clean clothes on top, and put the chair down next to the tub, with the cup of hot drink on it. Then he left without another word.

Jim didn’t know whether to sigh in relief or harrumph in annoyance.

But the moment he took a sip of the wonderful, hot beverage, the aroma filling him, Jim couldn’t begrudge the man his intrusion into Jim’s privacy. The flavor was too delicious. Pretty soon he had drunk down the whole thing and was feeling hot inside and out.

Despite his major attitude problems, Dak was a good host when it came to the amenities.

And as usual, his voice made Jim’s cock spring to life. A part of him wished he could control this instinctive response. Another part wanted to keep feeling like a teenager again, with a raging libido gone wild.

God, what am I gonna do about this infatuation?

Stars lit up the dark-blue night sky by the time Jim got out of the tub, dried off, and put on the clean clothes Dak had brought him. They were Dak’s, too big but comfy, and his scent clung to them still. Limping back to the front of the cabin, Jim discovered Dak sitting in the swing built for two, staring into the woods, his expression neutral.

He turned when Jim came into view. “How’s the head? And your ankle?”

“Better, thanks.” Jim nodded his gratitude.

Dak nodded toward the cabin. “I changed the sheets. Sleep well.” He took a sip from his own glass water bottle, slightly swaying the chair with his foot, obviously dismissing Jim right then and there.

Jim remained unperturbed. “Would you mind if I sit with you for a moment?”

Dak frowned, and the muscles on his jaw jumped, but he nodded grudgingly. “Sure.” He moved maybe an inch to allow Jim to sit in the swing with him, and Jim sat down, the warmth of the bath still wrapping him in a mellow blanket.

After listening to night birds singing for a time, Jim said, “I’m sorry I’ve disturbed your privacy and solitude so much.” He didn’t feel all that apologetic because his visits up here had been prolonged mostly because of his accidents. But he felt like he should apologize since Dak was so annoyed by his presence.

Dak didn’t reply for a long time, and only the muffled creak of the swing was audible. “No. I’m sorry. I’ve behaved unforgivably. A poor host.”

Jim shook his head without looking at Dak. “Most hosts get to choose whether to have guests. You didn’t.”

Silence reigned for a moment. Jim enjoyed the wind, gentle but chilly, but his thick sweats kept the cold at bay. Night birds sang sweetly, and the scents of the woods wafted his way. He was beginning to see why a person might choose this over the hustle and bustle of a big city of tens of thousands.

“What do you do for a living, Jim?”

Dak’s question sounded innocuous, but Jim had a feeling the casual tone was a sign of suspicion. “I’m a writer. Travel books, nature articles, stuff like that. I’d love to write real books, but I’m not that good.” That sounded good and innocent, he concluded, pleased with himself. Yet he rarely confessed to anyone about his desire to write a real book. He was surprised he had mentioned it now.

“I see.” Nothing in Dak’s tone gave away his thoughts on the matter. “What are you doing in Conxing?”

“Other than jumping out of airplanes and getting myself in tight spots?” Jim joked. Dak’s lips twitched at the corners, so Jim considered that a win
and
a miracle. He decided the best course of action was honesty. “I’ve only been to Wyoming once, and it wasn’t in these parts. I wanted to see a real wilderness, places where survival instinct kicks in, where there are still spots untouched by man.”

“And you wanted to be the first to touch the wild?”

Jim shrugged, not taking offense. “I guess. I mean, I’m not getting any younger. I’m still in pretty good condition, but…. If I’m going to do this, it’s gotta be now.” His gaze flickered over to Dak, who sat in his chair, quiet and stoic. Jim teemed with curiosity, and he took his chance. “I came here to see wolves.”

He didn’t imagine Dak’s body tense, his relaxation a thing of the past. “I see. There are wolves in other parts of the country. Up north in Yellowstone, for example.”

“Yeah, I know.” Jim let out a long breath. “But I’ve heard there are wolves outside the national park too. Those are the ones I wanted to see, not the planted ones.” Then he defiantly added, “And I was right. The wolf I saw earlier was gigantic. Beautiful. Scary but amazing.”

Harrumphing, Dak shook his head. “Wolves as big as you say would have been seen, caught, or killed long ago. There are farms and ranches in the plains and the gullies. People would have gone after big predators. No matter what the law says.”

“Do you hunt them?”

Dak shot a look at Jim, who shivered at the sudden, overwhelming hostility the man radiated. “No. Live and let live is my motto.” He got up fast, shoved the cabin door open, and said, “Time to rest, townie. So you can get back into town tomorrow at first light.”

Stiffly, Jim rose and walked past a stony-looking Dak to get inside the cabin. Dak closed the door after Jim was inside. Dak had not come into the cabin. Once again, the dismissal burned in Jim’s gut, an unpleasant feeling he couldn’t shake. Apparently, Jim had put a stinker of a foot in his mouth, again, or Dak simply took everything he said as an accusation of… something.

Grumbling under his breath, a few select curses in there to boot, Jim shrugged off his borrowed clothes and made his way to the bed. The cot was narrow, but two people could have fit in it with a squeeze. With Dak, Jim might not have minded.

At least not until the man opened his mouth and spat out venom.

Why doesn’t he like me?
Jim didn’t think he was so bad. He had a steady job, he was in reasonably good health and not bad looking, and he’d been told by reliable sources that he didn’t snore. What was Dak’s problem? Did the man hate everyone who entered his territory, or was Jim the unlucky exception?

It was true that Jim had a whopper of a secret, but he didn’t feel comfortable speaking about his new field-research topic yet. And Dak’s hostility made Jim even more wary. The man definitely had issues with wolves, be they the regular or the paranormal kind. Until Jim knew what had precipitated that hostility, he was better off keeping the truth to himself.

Frustration built within him until Jim pushed the thoughts out of his mind. He focused on breathing and clearing his head from all the unnecessary clutter. For now, he needed to sleep and recover his strength and health. Used to having to find rest in the strangest locations and situations, it didn’t take long for Jim to nod off completely.

“H
E
’
S
CUTE
.
Have you bedded him yet?” a strange man’s voice asked, amused.

“You know I haven’t,” Dak growled.

“Too bad, Dakotah. If you don’t want him, I’ll be glad to take him off your hands.” The sexy voice purred with obvious humor, as if he was making fun of Dak.

“Touch him, and I’ll rip your arm out of its socket.”

The other man just chuckled.

Jim was still in Dak’s bed. His eyes were closed, and his breathing was calm. But he was wide-awake, listening to the two men from across the cabin. Even with his eyes closed, Jim could detect morning light beaming through the windows. The door must have been open because a dry, warm wind tickled his bare back, only half of his frame covered by the blanket.

What was going on? Who was this other man? Jim could tell it wasn’t Daniel, and he was half certain that he didn’t like this person. Who was he to mock Dak?

“He’s older than I prefer, but that’s easily fixed,” the strange man said, his neutral tone at once dismissive and assessing. “I like the scruff on his face. Mmm, makes me hot.”

“Shut up, Crow. Montana has turned you into a rude and crude individual.” Dak was angry. Jim sensed the emotion as clearly as a touch on his skin. Palpable and visceral. He didn’t want Dak angry. “Do I need to remind you you’re here merely as my guest, subject to my good graces?”

“Or your whims, old friend, hmm?” the man, Crow, needled. “It hardly seems fair, though. If you don’t want him, let another take a crack at him. I’d treat him ever so good. He’d want for nothing.”

“Not even your fidelity, eh,
old friend
?” Dak spoke through gritted teeth, indicating just how aggravated he was.

Jim had no idea what was happening, but he didn’t like any of it. Why were these men speaking about him like a piece of meat to be passed around from one hungry mouth to another?

Crow laughed derisively. “You’re one to talk, Dak. Don’t think I’m unaware of the real reason you’ve sequestered yourself here in the back end of the earth. There was a time when I was certain your dick would fall off with all that extraneous exertion. All those men—”

Dak growled. “Shut. Up. Crow.”

The other man chuckled, and a slap on the back echoed in the cabin. “Do you really even want a new complication to your peaceful seclusion? To your balanced life of solitude? This one doesn’t know you, Dak. Not the real you.” A tense pause lasted mere seconds. “Well, perhaps he does now. He’s been awake for a while.”

Dak grunted. “I know.”

“And yet you let me prattle on?” Crow chuckled. “You’re getting old, my friend.”

“Unavoidable,” Dak replied, his voice serene and neutral again. For Jim’s benefit?

Since they were onto him, Jim twisted on the bed, rolling from his belly onto his back and then sitting up against the headboard. He pulled the blanket over his nakedness, observing the two men with his peripheral vision, both too far from his reach.

Dak stood by the cabin door, a brooding silhouette against the rays of the rising sun.

The other man—Crow—stood next to him. As tall as Dak, the man was leaner, though still ripped. Unlike Dak, who only had jeans on, Crow wore black leather pants, and a leather jacket hung over his bare chest. Dusky-gray eyes stared at Jim with amusement, accentuated by the shameless grin he was sporting. His black hair was cropped short, and he had a light stubble. He epitomized the tall, dark, handsome stranger of anyone’s sexual fantasy.

Jim swallowed hard—and felt his morning erection pushing against the thick blanket.