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~Scotland
Chapter Six
Scotland
He wasn’t sure if it would be better to rip the Band-Aid off and knock on the door to the cabin or act casually surprised when Clint stepped foot outside for the first time. He’d never been one to avoid a situation, normally, but Clint had kicked him out the last time they’d been in a room together.
He’d probably gone overboard. Definitely. He hadn’t spent so much on groceries since he’d hosted the Super Bowl party with twenty guys. That had been enough potato skins and jalapeno poppers to last him a lifetime.
Would Clint notice the little basket of cherry tomatoes from his garden? Or the zucchinis that Scotland loved growing but never knew what to do with? He could only make so many muffins before he got sick of the green demons.
Turning onto the pitted road, he slowed as he started down the lane to his house. It was overdue for fresh gravel, but he kind of liked it the way it was. Visitors always drove slower when it was like this, and it gave the place a more authentic feel.
When he’d first bought the land, he’d found tracks of unknown people going onto the property. That didn’t happen anymore when some of the potholes were bigger than castle motes and lined with enough muddy water that some of his guests hesitated at first.
He turned into his parking spot along the side of the house, rolling the windows up and shutting the car off. The engine ticked a few times as it cooled before falling silent. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath.
If Clint reacted the way he expected him to, then he wasn’t in for the quiet evening he needed. Maybe a medium-rare steak would change Clint’s mind, along with sausages and a potato mix of his own creation. There was still some corn kicking around in the bottom of his own fridge, and there was bound to be a plateful of beans in the garden yet.
I’m doing it again. The last thing he wanted to do was push Clint away by getting over-eager. Steaks would do…and the corn.
He crept out of the car, gently shutting the door and glancing toward the cabin as he made his way to the house. Only the corner of the building and the yard at the guest house were visible because of the curve of the land and the trees that guarded that part of the property. It was enough to give everyone privacy, but he could still keep an eye on the place to make sure nothing was on fire.
Some of his guests had been a bit…special. One particular city kid had moved the fire ring onto the porch and had started to pile massive logs into the thing in an attempt at a campfire. Scotland had been lucky that the guy had only had matches, otherwise the whole cabin would have been at risk.
He’d spent three months building it and another furnishing it, doing most of the work himself and even using a few trees from the forest on his land to make some accent pieces inside. He was damn proud of it, too.
Ducking into his house, he flicked off his shoes before strolling to the back patio. He had a better view from there, with the empty fire pit out in front of the cabin and the few Adirondack chairs set up around it. There was a charcoal barbecue there, too, that didn’t get too much use, despite most people cooking for themselves.
When he had the place rented out, he usually avoided the back porch to give them more privacy, but today he couldn’t help himself. He’d been raw since his last time at Unkinked. How badly did I fuck up?
Providing meals didn’t usually come with the stay, but as soon as Maddy had mentioned looking for a place for Clint’s vacation, he had jumped on the opportunity. Hopefully, it would make up for most of his recent blunder.
“I’ll take care of everything,” he’d said, a grin stretching over his face. “Everything.”
Maddy’s grin had been confused at first, before realization had begun to dawn. He was cute but a little oblivious.
It wouldn’t be the first time he’d had kinksters out to his place. In his old community, he’d had a few friends out, and even at Unkinked, word seemed to spread. It was relaxing to come home to his little slice of heaven with Dumb and Dumber grazing in the small paddock and a rope bunny strung up on the sturdy branch of a large oak tree.
Maybe Clint will let me string him up. Letting out a snort, he shook his head. There was no way in hell Clint would let him do that. He was the Dommiest Dom who ever Dommed. And he seemed to have a watchful eye for everyone except Scotland, no matter how hard he tried.
Maybe he had something against switches? It wouldn’t be far-fetched, but Clint was just so damned nice that it was hard to think poorly of him. He helped people, even if he denied it.
Scotland’s phone buzzed in his pocket, vibrating against the change in there. He grabbed it, bringing it to his ear without looking at the name.
“Hello?”
“It’s Clint.”
Scotland sucked in a breath, leaning against the wall as Clint’s voice rolled over him. It was the first thing to draw him to Clint, the very sound of it sending a shiver over his body. His memory never did it any justice.
“Hey, what’s up?” His voice was shaky, his grip on the phone fierce. Fuck, I’m not in high school anymore. He hadn’t had this type of reaction to any man, but Clint always managed to do it to him. Maybe it was because he so often ignored Scotland, so when he finally looked his way, the full attention struck him so much harder.
“I saw you drive in. How the hell does this stove work? I’m starving.”
He blinked. The stove? He hadn’t bought anything complicated—just a nice model that had been on sale at the local depot.
“Just hit the power button— I’ll be there in a second.” He hung up, scrambling inside and throwing his shoes on. He took off at a jog to the cabin, panting as he reached the door before knocking. His heart was pounding, even though it had just been a short run, his gut jittery as adrenaline sparked through him.
