Including Zach. They needed to blow out the cobwebs and the dust of the last couple, three days.
Music danced across the small pond. Zach stood on the dock, eyes closed, body swaying, as he played. It was slow and passionate, sad and beautiful. Colton stopped playing. This was a song for someone close to Zach, and he’d only ruin it. A tear slid down Zach’s cheek as he drew the bow back one last time.
“That was beautiful.” He stood behind Zach and rubbed his shoulders. “What was it?”
“A traditional Scottish song played at funerals. Grandpa taught me.” He swallowed and bowed his head. “He was something to hear play. Especially the sad stuff. Grandpa had lost everyone.”
He could hear the unspoken,just like me, in Zach’s voice. “Aw, honey.” The lump in his throat wouldn’t go away. Without thinking Colton pulled Zach into a hug.
Zach resisted for a second and then relaxed back against him.
“He wasn’t much, but I miss him.” Zach sniffed and let out a rueful laugh. “Which is pretty fucked up. Grandpa wasn’t a good man, was he?”
Seeing Zach on stage, Colton never suspected the world of hurt Zach held inside. Colton was honored Zach confided in him, even if he didn’t know the right words to say. “You can still love someone who didn’t always do right.” He knew that better than most.
“There wasn’t a lot of love between us. He said it hurt to look at me sometimes because I reminded him of my mother. But he never hit me or abused me. He was just broken.”
So much for getting away and letting go. “Do you want to go on back to the house?”
“No.” Zach shook his head. “I’m okay now. Grandpa used to tell me about the Scottish lochs he visited with my grandmother on their honeymoon. Standing by the pond, it reminded me of those stories. It felt right to send him off with that song.”
He stepped away and Colton missed the contact. It wasn’t sexual; Zach felt good leaning on him.
“Let’s play something.” Zach picked up Colton’s guitar. “If I teach you a simple tune, think you can follow along?”
Was that a dare? Colton was never one to back down from a challenge. “I’m not you, but I catch on fast.”
“Then this won’t be hard.” Zach smiled, an honest to God one that made Colton grin back.
Before he passed the guitar to Colton, Zach played the harmony three times. “Play that and I’ll keep pace with you.”
Colton took a couple of tries before he had it down. On the third time around, Zach started fiddling. This was happy, quick and lively. Zach tapped his foot and smiled as if the last few minutes hadn’t happened.
The emotion and joy Zach gave off infected Colton. He played along, increasing his tempo to keep pace with Zach. Drawing his bow back slowly, Zach grinned.
“You’re better than not bad.”
That compliment, coupled with Zach's exuberance, made this one of the best days Colton could remember. “That was real nice. Your grandpa teach you that too?”
“He was classically trained,” Zach said. “He loved the folk stuff best. Irish, bluegrass, and of course Scottish. That was from Keith Douglas. I’d like to meet him one day.”
Anyone Zach admired had to be damn good. “Don’t know him, but I’m mostly a blues picker.”
“He’s Scottish.” Zach smiled. “You pick what we play next.”
Talk about putting a man on the spot. He thought for a second and started strumming. A few notes in, Colton smiled. “Can you follow?”
“Wagon Wheel?”Zach rolled his eyes. “What fiddler doesn’t know Old Crow Medicine Show?”
Colton didn’t bother answering. He just got to stomping along, pretending he was Bob Dylan back in the day, jamming and making his guitar sing.
He loved the way the dock’s old boards added their own harmony, wet wood creaking and groaning with every beat. It had been a while since he could remember being happy like this; bone-deep and sure. Not that he was miserable—hell, his life was good—but this? This was special.
The final chord rang out, sort of echoing over the pond like a hymn, like the best kind of prayer, because it was joy with a bit of green and a lot of whiskey-soaked laughter.
He glanced over at Zach, and the pretty son of a bitch wastheresomehow. Honestly there with him, like Zach had been on stage. This fucking crooked-haloed, fiddle-playing angel with singed wings.
Colton leaned in and did what he shouldn’t have, kissing Zach square on the mouth without so much as a by-your-leave. It was funny because Colton expected the kiss to taste of smoke or hops, but Zach’s lips were nothing but sweet water with the barest hint of salt.
Fuck him, that was something else.
The entire kiss couldn’t have lasted a whole five seconds, but he still pulled back after it was done, expecting the afternoon to have passed.
He sucked in a deep breath, intending to apologize, to say that had been a terrible breach of trust. A mistake. Possibly the best, most perfect brand of sin.
What came out was, “I ain’t sorry.”
Dammit.
