“I was just helping my dad,” I told him. The thought of coming back had my guts in a twist. “I need to get back to Chicago and see about a job.”
Bill nodded and didn’t say anything more about it. But it was nice to know that there were people in town who wouldn’t turn their back on Dell. I still felt bad that he had been outed and that he was going to have to deal with the fallout alone, whatever it was, once I was gone.
We turned into the drive. “Thank you for arranging everything. The harvester was a godsend. It would have taken us weeks to do it with the old equipment.”
“You’re welcome, and tell your dad that I have him down for next year.”
I shook his hand, and then Rex and I got out of the truck, dodging raindrops as we hurried inside.
“We’re done,” I called, drying off. I removed my wet boots and walked in socked feet into the living room, where Dad was sound sleep, his foot resting on the arm of the sofa. “Dad,” I said more softly, and he opened his eyes. “Did you get something to eat?” I knew he would hate it, but I checked his temperature anyway. He felt cool, but I was worried about an infection.
“Wasn’t hungry.” He slowly sat up as the light in the room lessened with the rain and the fact that the days were getting shorter.
“It’s done. I have all the paperwork, and I made sure the price was specified.” I sat down. “You made a killing this year. Bill brought me home, and he has you down for the harvester next year. I confirmed that the payment should be in your account next week.”
Dad sat back, sighed, and smiled. “I can pay off the loan, and that acreage is all ours. That should keep the farm secure for a decade or more.”
“I was going to ask you about the south field. It wasn’t on the map to harvest.”
“It was fallow this year,” he answered. “I have a rotation, and it means that 150 acres are left to rest each year.” The implication hit me hard. Dad had a hell of a lot more land than I thought. I should have known he’d let some lie fallow. It was how things worked in order to let it recover and build up nutrients again. “There’s a complete plan map somewhere in the desk over in the corner.”
“I’ll look at it later. I was going to get some dinner.”
Dad got to his feet with a soft groan. “Make whatever you want. Bill and his wife are picking me up in a little while. There’s a dinner thing at the Eagles that I need to attend. I haven’t been out in a while, so I thought I’d go.” He crutched his way toward the stairs. “I always feel like I’m going to fall.” I helped Dad as he slowly made his way up, and he went to his room and closed the door.
Since I was cooking for myself, I figured I’d just reheat some leftovers. To say I was tired was an understatement, so I lay down on my bed and listened for Dad, relaxing and resting until he was ready. Then I made sure he got down the stairs and I sat in the recliner, putting on the television, and closed my eyes.
I must have fallen to sleep, because the next thing, I knew Dell stood over me. “What’s going on?”
“You must have really zonked out. Your dad is at the Eagles, and I came to make you dinner.” His grin was huge. “Get upstairs and shower, and we’ll eat when you get down.”
Man, he was bossy when he wanted to be. Maybe there was part of me that liked it, because I did as he asked, washing well, letting the hot water relax me. But one part refused to relax in the least.
As the hot water soothed away the hard work of the day, I thought about Dell being just downstairs, and I started wondering what it would be like if he decided to make a stop into the bathroom. God, what I wouldn’t give for the door to slide open and a hard, naked Dell to step into the shower behind me, his body pressing to mine, hot, soapy hands sliding around my waist. I closed my eyes, letting my imagination take over.
It had been too long since anyone had shown me intimate attention, and my cock throbbed just at the fantasy. I was seconds from taking myself in hand when I pulled back, shut off the water, and stepped out onto the bath mat. I wasn’t going to spend my time with an imaginary Dell when the real one was downstairs. After toweling off and dressing as quickly as I could, I went downstairs to find the lights dimmed and soft music drifting into the living room. Garlic, onion, and spices drifted from the kitchen, drawing me forward like an olfactory siren song, my belly rumbling.
Dell turned with a smile, candles on the table, plates set, wineglasses in his hands.
“What’s all this?” I asked as he slowly stepped into the room.
“If you really need to ask, then I’m not doing something right,” Dell responded, handing me a glass. “I hope you like red. I have some steaks grilling outside, and the salad is ready. My kitchen repertoire isn’t the greatest, but I grill a mean steak and I can make the basics.” He returned to the counter and brought bread to the table. “Mom made it this afternoon, so it’s really fresh.” He put the salad bowl on the table with what had to be a bottle of homemade dressing. I assumed it also came from his mom, but didn’t ask. It didn’t matter. I was being romanced, and it was nice.
“Should I check the grill?” I asked.
But Dell hurried out the back door and returned a few minutes later with two steaks on a plate. He brought foil-wrapped baked potatoes out of the oven, adding them to the growing feast. “I think this is everything.” Dell pulled out a chair for me, and I sat down. “Enjoy.”
I cut off a bite of the steak, humming under my breath. The seasoning was amazing, and my belly growled for more. After days of work with barely time to stop to eat, this was incredible, and my body hungered for as much as I could get. I was like droughted soil just as it started to rain, those first drops sinking in quickly. “This is so good.” My instinct was to inhale the food, but I forced myself to eat more slowly. “Is there some kind of secret recipe?” I smiled. “Or did your mom set it up?” Dell blushed, and I had my answer. “Be sure to tell her thank you when you get home. Everything is amazing.” I raised my glass, and Dell clinked mine with his.
“I think we can talk about something other than my mom,” Dell offered.
“Okay. Why don’t you tell me what’s behind all this?” I was more than a little curious.
Dell filled our salad bowls and offered me the dressing. “I want you to stay. I like having you here, and I want to see if what’s between us could last. But I can’t if you’re in Chicago. So I thought I would make it my mission while you were here to try to give you something to stay for. I know I’m not the best cook, but this is just the beginning. We finished the harvest a day early, so I thought that on Saturday, I’d come by and pick you and Rex up, and we can make a day of it.”
I raised my eyebrows. It seemed he had put a lot of thought into this. I didn’t know if it was possible for me to actually be convinced to move back here, but if Dell wanted to give it a try, who was I to say no? “I’ll make myself free on Saturday for your particular brand of persuasion.”
“Good.” Dell smiled. “You never did tell me how Alan fared getting home.”
I snickered. “He called from work on Tuesday to tell me that he could barely sit without his entire body aching and that everything hurt. He even said, and I quote, ‘I can’t even use my right hand for anything productive.’”