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“Where are you taking me?” Dusty asks from the passenger seat of my car. He’s wearing a blindfold, which took very little convincing. The man trusts me so damn much, I’m still in awe of it. But knowing he does, that he so willingly gives himself to me, is one of the reasons I will always work so damn hard to deserve him.
“You’ll see. It’s close.” We just got back from California a few days ago. It was a nice trip. Dusty enjoyed seeing the West Coast and meeting Spencer. While he hasn’t mentioned it, I have a feeling that being there hammered home for him that it’s not where he belongs. The UP is part of Dusty, and Dusty is part of the UP. It would have been a crime to take him away, and though things are still a mess here, it’s where I belong too.
“You’re lucky I love you.”
“I know,” I reply, which makes him turn my direction. He can’t see me because of the cloth, but I know that beneath it he’s giving me a soft, squinty-eyed look, his insides melting a bit over what I said. That’s the power we have over each other.
“Wherever we’re going, I hope it’s somewhere I can fuck you. That was too damn sweet, baby.”
I chuckle. “Maybe after it gets dark. We still could get arrested for indecent exposure, but I’m willing to take the risk if you are.”
“At least we’ll go to jail together.”
“There’s always that.” I finish the short drive and park the car. “Stay here.” I get out, walk around to the other side, and open the door for him so I can help him out. I hear the water in the distance, smell it in the air, waiting for bad memories to come. They don’t. All I can think about is the nights Dusty and I used to spend here together, sneaking drinks for the first time, or just talking for hours.
At our spot.
The one we lost, and I’m determined to get it back.
I take Dusty’s hand and lead him toward the lighthouse. When I feel him slow down slightly, I know he realizes where we are.
Still, we keep going until we’re standing beside the white tower that has seen better days. I pull the blindfold off him, and his gaze finds mine, sparking with emotion.
“What are we doing here, Morg?”
I shrug. “Taking back what’s ours. We’ve spent the summer visiting places we used to go when we were kids. Neither of us mentioned our lighthouse. It was subconsciously for me. I’m not sure about you, but I decided I want it back. I want you to know I love you and that the past is behind us. That even though Rhett and I have a lot of work to do, there’s no jealousy when it comes to you. I’m yours, and you’re mine, and I think it’s about time you kissed the right brother at the Birchbark Lighthouse.”
His grin grows, nearly inhaling his face. “It was always you I wanted to kiss here. I’ll bring you here and kiss you every damn day if you’ll let me.”
Dusty reaches up and cups my face. We meet in the middle, mouths pulled together by a force that has always been there, will always be there. I taste him, and he tastes me, the sweeps of our tongues a paintbrush creating our future and covering the past.
We sit down on the ground together, my head on his chest, looking up at the sky and talking the way we used to, about nothing and everything. About California and plans for the bar and even my brothers. I’m still worried about them both, but there’s a hope inside me that never used to be there, telling me that somehow, some way, it’ll all be okay.
I think that’s what love does for you sometimes…gives you hope, and everything else grows from there.
When it gets dark, the automatic lights from above help illuminate the area, neither of us wanting to leave, and when I say, “Fuck me out here, Dust,” he does, before we laugh and stumble to the car, heading home together, and I know I’m exactly where I belong.
