The Closer You Get (2 page)

“Don’t go borrowing trouble. Let’s just enjoy the fact that we’re both gainfully employed and have a roof over our heads tonight.”

“You’re right. This is good. We’ll be fine.”

“That’s right. And I’ll pick up dinner.”

“Great.”

Cash hung up and continued driving. He tried not to feel guilty about the life he’d cost his brother.
 
But if it weren’t for him, Rye would still be working for their father’s company back home in Apple Creek, Missouri. He’d lost three jobs since then, and there was no reason for it. Cash was an electrician. He understood that jobs for him might come and go, but Rye had a structural engineering degree. He should be able to settle in somewhere for the long haul.
 

Cash tried to push the thoughts aside. Rye refused to discuss the matter, and he wouldn’t want Cash wasting time pondering it.
 

A flash of motion in the rearview mirror caught his eye. There was another pickup behind him, a few car lengths back swerving in and out of view of the mirror. The highway was only two lanes, and there weren’t many other cars around. Cash wondered if he should speed to put some distance between him and the crazy driver, or if he should pull over and wait for him to pass. The guy was coming up fast and didn’t look like he was planning on switching lanes. Cash slid over to the left even though he was going slower than the other guy.
 

Turned out to be a good move. The other guy sped past, nearly knocking into him. Cash tried to get a glimpse of him. It looked like he was yelling into his cell phone. Probably drunk, too. He passed, and Cash breathed a sigh of relief. He was only five miles from his exit. The crazy driver would be long gone by then.
 

There was a red sports car ahead of Cash. Time slowed as he saw the truck swerve perilously close to the red car. It swerved the opposite direction, hit the shoulder, overcorrected, and slammed into the side of the red sports car.
 

“Shit!” Cash grabbed the wheel in both hands and braced himself. The red car hit the median and flipped. Cash thought he might make it around the truck by swinging to the right, but the truck went sideways, and he had a split second of realization before he slammed into the side of the truck. The next thing he knew he was on the side of the road, his truck turned the wrong direction. It was quiet after the wrenching sound of metal on metal.
 

Across the highway in the median, the red car had landed right side up, and a man in a suit was getting out, holding his head. The truck that had wrecked them was upside down in the median. The man was rushing to the driver’s side.
 

Cash hopped out and ran across the highway. “He alive?” he asked.

“I think so,” said the man who, upon a closer look, turned out to be gorgeous. Cash forced the thought away. “The door’s jammed.”

Cash banged on the intact window. “Hey! You okay?”

The guy inside was hanging upside down, his seatbelt holding him down. Or up. He muttered and moved a bit. Cash braced his boot against the side of the truck and wrenched the door open.
 

“Wow,” said the man in the suit.
 

Cash looked up and caught admiration in his eyes. And maybe…lust. Once again, he shut out the thought. The two of them worked together to unstrap the barely conscious man. Once they got him laid out on the ground, Cash knelt next to him and checked him for injuries while the man in the suit called 911 on his cell phone.
 

He had a nice voice. Very calm while he told the operator the circumstances and their location. Cash stood as the man ended his call. “You all right?” Cash asked.

“Yeah,” the man said. He held out his arms and laughed. “It flipped twice. I don’t have a scratch on me. It’s pretty amazing.” His blue eyes sparkled with excitement. But then he frowned. “Looks like you hit your head pretty bad, though.”

Cash reached up and found a bump at his hairline, and his fingers came back with blood on them. “Not bad,” he said.
 

“A tough guy,” he said, grinning. “I like that. I’m Adam Fisk,” he said.

Cash glanced around wondering how long the ambulance would take and whether he needed to be there when it arrived. But no sirens came. He shook hands with Adam. “Cash. Holcomb.”
 

Adam nodded towards his truck, piled high with boxes. “You moving somewhere?”

Cash nodded.

Adam grinned a little bigger. “Don’t want to tell me where?”

“Not particularly.”

Adam laughed. “Okay, tough guy. I won’t pry.” He glanced at the moaning guy on the ground. “What do you reckon he was doing?”

“Smelled like alcohol to me,” Cash said. “And he was yelling into a cell phone.”

Adam frowned and nodded. “Shame.”

“Yep.”
 

Cash glanced around again.
 

“What do you do, Cash?” Adam asked.

Cash frowned at him, wondering what his angle was. “I’m an electrician.”

“Really? A man who works with his hands. That’s cool. ”

“Yeah, well. What do you do?”

“I’m a lawyer. Not nearly as sexy.”

Was the guy flirting with him? It had been so long since Cash had flirted that he couldn’t believe what was happening. Besides, last time a guy had flirted with him, it had ended in disaster. He thought he should quickly decide whether to flirt back, but the distant approach of sirens saved him the trouble.
 

Adam knelt next to the drunk guy. “They’re coming, dude. Just hang in there.”

“Bastard’s lucky I don’t add some more injuries before they get here. Nearly killed us both.”

Adam smiled up at him. Cash looked away. He was in danger of thinking this guy was for real.

The ambulance came, and then the police. While the drunk guy was being put on a gurney, Adam and Cash were giving their information to the police. A tow truck showed up to pick up Adam’s car.

He would need a ride.
 

The tow truck driver would give him a ride. But still, maybe Cash should offer.
 

When the police thanked him, Cash turned and started walking toward his truck. The idea warred within him until he finally stopped at the edge of the highway and turned back. Adam was looking sadly at his pounded up car.
 

“You need a ride?” Cash called to him.

Adam’s face lit in a smile. “Yeah. Hey, thanks, man. That would be great.”

He jogged up to meet him, and they walked side-by-side across the highway to Cash’s truck. They followed the tow truck the rest of the way into Fidelity. Cash glanced at his passenger, struck with the incongruity of Adam’s fancy suit and slicked back hair inside Cash’s beat-up pickup with the torn vinyl seats and the crumpled soda cans on the floor.
 

A couple miles down the road, Adam relaxed, and it occurred to Cash that some of Adam’s brightness and cheer might have been nerves. Not that he didn’t seem still cheerful. Just calmer.

“So, Cash,” he said, “I gotta ask because I’ve been wrong before. You’re not straight, are you?”

He said it almost hopefully. Cash suppressed a grin. He couldn’t bring himself to look at the man. He was grateful to be hiding behind dark sunglasses. “No,” he said. “I’m not.”

“That’s fantastic news.”

“I don’t see how. You’re not my type.”

“Aw, I’ll grow on you. Here,” he said, reaching in his pocket for a card. He handed it to Cash. “My cell number is on there.”

Cash took it, glanced at it, and slipped it in his shirt pocket. “You don’t even know where I’m moving to.”

“You must be moving here. To Fidelity.”

Cash laughed. “Why? Why must I?”

“Well, because I always get what I want, that’s why.”

“Jesus Christ. You really lay it on thick, don’t you?”

Adam chuckled. “I’m not timid if that’s what you mean.”

Cash stared hard at the road, trying to keep his face expressionless. “I’m not looking for anything right now,” he said.

“Sure, I understand. No pressure. But you get settled in here and then call that number. I’ll buy you a beer sometime. If you don’t like me, no big deal. You can always use more friends, right?”

Cash glanced at him. They had arrived at the garage, and he pulled into the parking lot. “You want me to wait?”

“Nah, I’ll get a rental. Thanks for the ride.” Adam started to climb out. He stopped and looked back. “I’m sorry you and your truck got banged up, but it was really great meeting you, Cash.”
 

And then he was gone. Cash watched him for a moment. Adam waved at a woman who was passing by him on her way out. She smiled and waved back. Cash wondered how, in a town this small, Adam managed to keep such a positive demeanor and such confidence. He didn’t swagger, but he held himself like a man who’d never been beat down by life. A man who always got what he wanted.
 

Cash shook his head and put his truck in reverse. He drove to the new home he’d be sharing with his brother.

T
HE
B
RICK
O
VEN
was located right on Main Street. Rye and Cash were led there by their noses Friday at dinner time. Unpacking was exhausting work, and their appetites testified to the fact. They took a walk down Main in hopes of stumbling across a pub or burger joint, but the smell of bread stopped them. They turned and saw, displayed in the window of the restaurant, loaves of artisan bread in a variety of shapes and flavors. When the two brothers pressed their faces to the glass and saw pizza being served, they exchanged a look and a shrug and went inside.

They’d lived in a few small towns, and usually the only pizza you could get was some reheated frozen stuff from a local convenience store. This was a real Mom & Pop operation. The kitchen area was all open. There was a huge brick oven built into the back wall and a cute, little brunette tossing dough and sliding pizzas in and out of the oven. There was a man working by her side. They looked alike, possibly brother and sister.
 

Cash and Rye took a small table in the corner. The waitress brought them their beer and took their order. “You guys new around here?” she asked, a twangy accent to her high-pitched voice.
 

“Yes, ma’am,” Cash answered.
 

“Well, welcome to town,” she said. “First beer’s on the house. I’ll get your pizza right out to ya.”

Cash grinned at Rye, and he found himself grinning back. Free beer. Cool.

“Maybe this town won’t be so bad,” Cash said.

“Yeah, we’ll see. Might be worth it just for this place. If that pizza tastes as good as it smells, we’re already two steps up from where we were.”

Cash was looking around. “I met a guy yesterday,” he said.

Rye felt himself go tense all over.
 

“The other guy in the wreck. Adam.”

Rye watched as Cash avoided eye contact at all cost. “We just got here.”

“I know,” Cash said. “I told him I wasn’t interested. But he gave me his number anyway.”

“So…it’s out, then? You’re not gonna play straight?

“Do you want me to?”

“I want you to do what’s best for you.”

Cash nodded. “Well…the guy pegged me right off the bat. So I think it’s best just to be honest. Maybe if I’m not hiding my sexuality, it won’t be seen as a weakness.”

Rye had no response. Truth be told, he was a nervous wreck. He’d been nervous since Henderson and the two towns they’d tried out after that had only validated his anxiety. Cash was simply in the wrong part of the country for being gay. On several occasions, Rye had tried to talk Cash into moving to a city, but Cash wanted to stay within a day’s drive of their mom and sister, and Rye mostly agreed. He’d hate to not get to watch his niece and nephew grow up.

With a sigh, Rye asked, “You gonna call this guy?”

“Nah. Like you said. We just got here.”

Rye nodded but looked down at his hands anyway. “Look, I appreciate you being careful. But if you like this guy—”

“You’ve sacrificed relationships too, Rye. You never say so, but I know you were in love back in
 
Henderson.”

Rye dropped his head back. “Bullshit. Even if I was, she pretty much killed those feelings. Don’t worry about me, Cash. Take care of yourself. Maybe this place will finally be home. Maybe this guy is for real.”

Cash shrugged. “Maybe. But I’d rather be careful for a while. Get settled into our jobs.”

Rye shrugged. “Just don’t be too careful. You really need to get laid.”

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know what it means.”

“No. I don’t. Go ahead and say what you’ve got to say.”

“Fine. You’ve just been downright bitchy lately; that’s all.”

“Bitchy? Who was it threw that temper tantrum when he stubbed his toe yesterday.”

“Wasn’t a temper tantrum.”

“Was so.”

The waitress brought their pizza and grinned at them. Rye smiled back because she was female and was wearing no ring. He thanked her with his best, most charming wink, and when she left, went back to his stoic demeanor.
 

“You know, it’s okay if you smile at other people, now and then,” Cash said.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you switch on the charm to get laid, and switch it right back off for the other ninety-eight percent of your life.”

“Oh, getting laid comprises way more than two percent of my life, I guarantee you that.”

Cash rolled his eyes. “Just don’t expend all of Fidelity’s resources too quickly.”

A rather rowdy couple came in, laughing loudly and speaking vulgarly. The man had long, stringy hair and the woman was dressed like a white trash tramp. They both acted high as kites. Rye took note of them, but then tuned them out. They sat at the bar not too far from Rye and Cash’s table.

Cash changed the subject and asked Rye about his job interview. Rye told him about the conversation with Mrs. McKay.
 

That was when Mrs. McKay walked in the door with another woman. There was a curved bar dividing the kitchen from the dining area, and the women took seats and waved at the chef in the back. The chef finished what she was doing and hurried over to greet the women, all smiles. Rye guessed they were best girlfriends. Probably known each other since kindergarten. He slumped down in his chair a bit and hoped that she wouldn’t see him.