The Barn : The Farm II by Heath Grayson

Author:Heath Grayson [Grayson, Heath]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-03-28T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

Cody

The first thing we did when we got home was call Santiago. Well, no—the first thing we did was look at the barn, which ruined our good mood.

“It’s worse than I remembered,” I said as we stood before the open tarp and its hidden ruins.

“I’m so fucking sorry, babe.”

“Don’t be. Just listen to me more often, ok?”

“You got it, boss,” Buck said with a dimpled smile.

Standing there made it abundantly clear we’d have to do something with the ruins. What that was, I couldn’t say. Neither could Buck. But we knew Santiago would. There was some money left from the original barn plan, but nowhere near enough for a whole new one. What I wanted out of Santiago was a direction, a plan to move forward. Maybe he knew things we didn’t, or saw something we couldn’t.

We marched right into the house and called him on speakerphone. It was the middle of the afternoon on a Saturday, and we were both exhausted, but we wanted to start it. He didn’t pick up. The voicemail we left must’ve sounded a little manic.

That’s how we felt. The rest of our time in Germany went great. Buck and I had some good bonding time with Gretchen, the kids, and even Jonas. The evening before we left, Buck and his sister went to the store together, a three-hour round trip, leaving Jonas and me with the kids.

We played a board game until the kids got bored, and then Jonas broke out the beer he had been home-brewing. It was not good, but it sure wasn’t bad either. He was proud of it, and I think I gushed appropriately. We sat at his small kitchen table, talking and sipping his ok beer. Once he’s comfortable with you, Jonas has a lot to say. By the time our SOs got home, I felt like I had made a new friend.

The trip was what we needed. A reset and refresh. It took us out of an insurmountable spiral and gave us the distance to form a new perspective. When I looked at Buck on the flight home, passed the fuck out, and scrunched up in the seat next to me, I was grateful. Even if we had a great time, I knew he didn’t want to go, but he did for me.

Buck woke up every 30 minutes flying home, just like every night since Berlin. He’d start to become hard, get pinched by the stupid metal cage in his pants, wake up, grumble, readjust, and fall back asleep. By that point, Buck hadn’t come in over a week. His lack of release and poor sleep were making him irritable, yet he refused to take the damn thing off and got testy every time I mentioned it.

After shaving his whole nether region, he said it was more comfortable and wanted to give it at least a week. Without his penis in the mix, the sex we’d had since we got home was fast and kind of boring, but I kept my mouth shut.

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