Desire & Denial (Southern Boys Book 3) Read online

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Desire & Denial (Southern Boys #3)

  Copyright © 2020 by K.C. Wells

  Cover Art by Meredith Russell

  Photo by Ben Fink

  Cover content is being used for illustrative purposes only and any person depicted on the cover is a model.

  The trademarked products mentioned in this book are the property of their respective owners, and are recognized as such.

  All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law.

  Thank you to my wonderful team of betas. You rock!

  Thank you to Lori Bahe and Sunne Manello for your car trouble stories – Kendis appreciated them!

  A special thank you to Jason Mitchell, for all the chats, late night conversations and notes passed back and forth.

  I couldn’t have written this one without you!

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Epilogue

  About the author

  Other titles

  Chapter One

  Saturday Dec 9, 2017

  The more Jon Walters thought about his brother’s announcement, the more he seethed.

  Del thinks I can’t do shit. That’s the reason he’s staying here in LaFollette instead of moving back to California. He thinks the business will go under with me at the helm. He thinks his little brother is fucking useless.

  Well, fuck.

  Jon was under no illusions when it came to his business sense—or lack of it. His track record spoke for itself. But hell, he was the one who’d approached Del with the idea of opening a bike shop together. He’d done the groundwork, and Del had provided a lot of the capital. And so far, they’d run it together. Pretty successfully too, he’d thought, considering they’d only been open a short while. That didn’t mean it would fail without Del.

  Doesn’t he have any faith in me at all?

  What little confidence Jon had built up during the last few months had eroded in an instant, leaving him deflated and depressed. One minute he and Chaz had been discussing bike trails and planning for the spring season, the next, Del had walked in and dropped his bombshell. Sure, he hadn’t ruled out selling Jon his share of the business, but only when it was making a profit—and when Jon felt comfortable running it. Jon had acted as if he was pleased, but inside he was a mess.

  It all boiled down to one thing. Del doesn’t trust me.

  Which was rich, seeing as it had been Del’s decision to name the bike shop Rainbow Racers that had brought them a whole load of grief from the townsfolk. Even Jon could see that was a bad business move. But noooo, Del was the one with the business acumen, right? Del knew what he was doing, right?

  There was only one thing to be done—he needed to have it out with Del. He had to know the reason behind Del’s change of heart. And the sooner the better.

  And what if I’m right? Where does that leave me?

  Jon didn’t want to think that far ahead.

  For the rest of that Saturday his mood was lousy, and he couldn’t do a damn thing to change it. Del was off God knew where, leaving him in charge. And that was something else to gnaw at him. So I can run the bike shop for an afternoon, but not permanently. I can’t be trusted not to run it into the ground.

  Yeah, the whole situation stank.

  Every now and then he’d catch Chaz glancing in his direction, only to look away abruptly when Jon tried to meet his gaze.

  He knows something’s up. Chaz wasn’t stupid, far from it. He’d make a fantastic manager once Del had finished training him. A better manager than I am, that’s for damn sure.

  And there he went again, putting himself down. No wonder Del doesn’t want me running the show. He needs someone who’s confident, gregarious…

  Someone nothing like Jon.

  “Hey, Jon? You okay?” Chaz’s brow was furrowed, his eyes troubled.

  No, Jon was most definitely not okay, but he wasn’t about to share why. Chaz had enough on his plate. It had only been a little over two weeks since Jon had invited Chaz to stay at his place, and a mere five days since Del had gone with Chaz to pick up all his gear. Jon was relieved when Del had volunteered to go. He had the feeling that if he’d been the one to confront Chaz’s homophobic, gay-bashing daddy, the result might have been different.

  Jon wanted to smash the guy’s face into a pulp for what he did to Chaz. Who the fuck beats up their kid because they found a fucking gay magazine in his room? Especially a sweet kid like Chaz. Providing him with a refuge had been the least Jon could do, and truth be told, he liked having the younger man around.

  “Jon?” Dark brown eyes focused on his. “You’re starting to worry me here.”

  Standing in the bike shop and ruminating was going to solve nothing. Jon had to get out of there, and there was really only one place to go—Del’s house.

  “Sorry. I guess I’m feeling out of sorts. Would you be okay lockin’ up the place? There’s only an hour until closing, but I think I need to go home.” With any luck, he’d be there before Chaz, providing his conversation with Del didn’t develop into a battle.

  Lord, I hope not. Del was the only family Jon had left in the world.

  Chaz nodded. “Sure. Maybe you’re right. You might be coming down with something ’cause you don’t look so hot. Want me to cook tonight?” He smiled. “I can do mac and cheese. It’s not much but it’s comfort food.”

  For the umpteenth time, the thought ran through his head that Chaz was one great kid, with a warm and generous nature.

  “I tell you what. How about we have pizza? My treat.”

  Chaz’s eyes lit up. “Now you’re talking. With fries and wedges?”

  “Whatever you like—except pineapple. I draw the line at pineapple on my damn pizza.”

  Chaz cackled. “You don’t know what you’re missing, but hey, your loss.”

  Jon tossed him the shop keys, then went into the office to collect his jacket. By the time he was pulling his truck out onto West Central Avenue, his stomach was clenched and his heart was pounding.

  I fucking hate confrontation.

  The drive through Lonas Young Mermorial Park eased his tension a little. The bare trees were stark against the sky, and the only sounds were the occasional chirrup of birds. The road was slick from the rain, which thankfully had eased off. That was the trouble with winter in LaFollette—the goddamn rain.

 
Christ, we’re only just into December and here I am, longing for spring. Jon couldn’t wait for it to arrive. He longed for blue skies and sunshine, and the necessity to wear fewer items of clothing. That was probably the one thing he missed about South Carolina—the temperature. It wasn’t that huge a difference, but it was noticeable. Winter had always been the most difficult season to bear. It had occurred to him more than once that maybe he suffered from that SAD everyone talked about. Jon only knew that when the sunlight was more plentiful, he felt more alive.

  He pulled up outside Del’s house and strode past his truck, fumbling in his jeans pocket for Del’s spare key. Inside the house was quiet, but then he caught a noise coming from the bedroom. Right then he didn’t care if Del was doing yoga buck naked on the rug.

  They were going to talk about this.

  The bedroom was empty, but there was noise coming from the bathroom. Jon walked over to the door and pushed it open, freezing at the sight before him. Taylor was sitting on the edge of the tub, leaning back and sporting a very erect dick, and Del knelt in the tub in front of him. It didn’t take a genius to work out where Del’s mouth was headed.

  “Oh my fucking God, where’s the eye bleach when you need it?” Jon let the door close before retreating quickly, unable to miss Taylor’s yelp of surprise.

  Jon sat on the foot of the bed and put his head in his hands. I did not need to see that. Not that seeing Del in the altogether was something new—he’d strutted through the house naked often enough when they were growing up—but it was the intimacy of the act taking place that made Jon’s heart beat faster.

  A pair of bare feet came into view. “That’s it. I want my key back.” Del sounded pissed.

  Without even raising his head, Jon held it out. “Take it, take it.” Like he ever wanted to go through that again.

  There was a soft whump as the key landed on the bed beside him. “Okay. How about you tell me what you’re doing here? They have these wonderful things called phones nowadays. They’re great for lots of things, like, oh, I don’t know—calling people before you come barging into their house.”

  “I just wanted to talk to you about what you said earlier,” Jon protested, his head still bowed. “I wanted to know what changed your mind.” He shuddered, then raised his head as Taylor came into the bedroom, wearing only a towel. “Hey. I’m guessing this wasn’t an official call.” Officer Cox looked a lot different out of his police uniform. Jon lowered his eyes, taking in the bulge in Taylor’s towel, then averted his gaze. Nope. Nope. Not gonna go there.

  It was one thing imagining guys having sex. It was quite another seeing it.

  But I didn’t see it, did I? And I wouldn’t wanna see Del doing it anyhow. Because… Ew.

  Del sighed. “Well, I was gonna tell you, just… not like this.” He gestured to Taylor to approach, then put his arm around Taylor’s waist. “Jon, I’d like you to meet Taylor… my partner.”

  For a second there Jon was flummoxed by the formal introduction. “What the fuck are you playing at? It’s not like we haven’t met alre—” Then Del’s words finally sank in. Jon gaped. “Your… Shit, for real?”

  Del smiled. “As real as it gets.”

  He’s not staying because he doesn’t trust me. He’s staying for Taylor. Relief flooded through him. I am not a total screw-up.

  “Aw, that’s great!” Jon launched himself to his feet, stuck out his hand, then withdrew it quickly. “Hey, can we do this when you guys have got some clothes on?”

  Del laughed. “Are you sure you’re my brother?” He waved his hand toward the living area. “Go pour us a glass of wine, or whatever you wanna drink. We’ll join you when we’re dressed.”

  Jon gave him the thumbs up, and left the room in a hurry, before turning around to head back to the bedroom to inquire whether they wanted red or white. They were back in the bathroom, and as he drew nearer, his hand raised to knock on the door, he caught Del’s voice.

  “We could always finish what we started.” His low, husky tone was enough to tell Jon exactly what that meant.

  Fuck. No.

  “And you could wait until I’m gone, how’s that for a better idea?” Jon shouted through the closed door. “Jesus, guys…” He hightailed it out of there, but he could still hear them laughing from the kitchen.

  By the time they emerged, clothed, Jon had found three glasses and a bottle of white wine in the refrigerator. They stood there while he poured before handing them a glass each. Just then, Taylor’s phone buzzed, and he left them to take the call outside.

  “I’m guessing that has to do with work,” Del surmised.

  Jon raised his own glass. “I suppose congratulations are in order?” He had to admit, this had blindsided him. Okay, so he knew Del and Taylor were fucking, and Del was happy as a pig in shit, but Jon had put that down to him getting his rocks off. But a relationship? Partner sounded pretty goddamn serious.

  Del gazed at him thoughtfully. “After Monday, I wasn’t sure how you were going to take the news, to be honest.”

  “What happened Monday?” Jon asked, perplexed.

  “I told you I was happy about how far things had gone, and you went quiet on me.” That thoughtful gaze was locked onto him. “I sort of got the impression there was something wrong.”

  “I said it was good to see you happy, didn’t I?” Jon’s heart raced. Damn him for how much he sees. He always had, ever since they were kids.

  Except for those times when he wasn’t around to see anything. Jon’s chest tightened.

  “Yeah, you did,” Del admitted.

  Shame stung him. “I said more than that, though, didn’t I? I said even if it only lasted a few weeks…” It hadn’t been realism that had prompted those words, however, and Jon knew it deep down.

  It had been envy, pure and simple.

  “You were looking out for me, I get that,” Del said softly. “But Taylor and me, we both want this. I know he’s not out—not yet—but—”

  Jon held up a hand. “Hush. It’ll be okay, all right? It’ll work out, I know it.” He was happy for Del, that was the God’s honest truth, but he couldn’t help it if seeing Del and Taylor together was like a slap in the face.

  Not that he would ever let them know that.

  “You’ll like him once you get to know him better.” Del’s gaze was almost an entreaty, and it tore at Jon’s heart.

  “What do you mean? I like him already. Hard not to like someone who can put up with my big brother. ’Cause I’m assuming he loves ya.”

  Del flushed, and Jon couldn’t recollect ever seeing him so discombobulated. “The word might have cropped up in conversations.”

  Jon put down his glass before taking Del’s from him. After placing them on the countertop, he flung his arms around Del and hugged him tightly. “I am so happy for you,” he whispered.

  Del held onto him for a moment. “Thank you. He’s a good man, you know. And he’s good for me.”

  A discreet cough broke them apart. Taylor stood by the refrigerator, smiling.

  Jon cleared his throat. “And now I’ve gotten to see more than I ever wanted of what you two get up to when there’s no one around, I’m gonna go. Chaz is expecting me home to order pizza.”

  Taylor’s face fell. “Oh. I was hoping you could stay a while. We haven’t really had much chance to talk, have we?”

  Jon chuckled. “There’ll be plenty of time for that. I get the feeling you’re gonna be around for a long time to come.”

  “How about you and Chaz come here for Christmas Day?” Del suggested. “Seeing as we spent Thanksgiving at your place.” He grinned. “We’ll cook.”

  Taylor blinked. “We?”

  Jon snickered. “I’ll leave you two to work this out. I like the idea, though.” He drained what was left of his wine in one long gulp, then headed for the door. Del followed him. At the threshold, Del stopped him with a hand to Jon’s arm.

  “Sorry you walked in on… you know.” His eyes gleamed. “But if w
e’re being honest, you should be the one apologizing. I mean, I know you had a key, but walking into my bathroom? Didn’t it occur to you that the damn door was closed for a reason? I could have been taking a shit for all you knew. Or some other activity that doesn’t call for spectators.”

  “It won’t happen again,” Jon promised.

  “No it won’t,” Del said with grim determination. “You don’t have a key anymore.” His eyes were still twinkling, however. And with that, he closed the door.

  Jon walked slowly toward his truck, shivering but thankful that the rain had stopped for a while. He got behind the wheel and switched on the engine. He stared out into the quiet lane, his head in a spin.

  Why the fuck can’t I be more like Del?

  It was a question he’d asked himself many, many times, usually when confronted with situations where he was too shit scared to make a move.

  Like now.

  Because dammit, he wanted what Del had.

  He wanted the love of a good man.

  Chapter Two

  Chaz Monroe locked the main door of the bike shop, then went to check he’d done the same with the workshop. Satisfied all was as it should be, he walked over to his pride and joy, his Bonneville Scrambler, his stomach grumbling.

  Pizza was exactly what he needed. Anything to remove the sting from the day.

  Not that it had been a bad day at work. A little surprising, maybe. Chaz wasn’t sure how he felt about Del staying on instead of leaving for California. He hoped it didn’t alter his job prospects. Del had taken him on to train him, and although he was barely into the second month of his six-month trial, Chaz was really happy with the job. He had a lot to learn about running a bike shop, and Del was keen to teach him. However, the aim had been that Chaz would work with Jon once Del handed over the reins.

  Is he still gonna do that, though? Now he’s staying? Chaz really hoped so. He had a lot of respect for Del, and he liked working with the brothers.

  Talk about apples and oranges.