Kinks in the Road Home

Kinks in the Road Home

By Roz Lee

eBooks are not transferable. Please do not sell, share or reproduce in any way as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.

This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental and the product of the authors imagination or have been used fictitiously.

Copyright © 2016 by Roz Lee

All Rights Reserved

No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the copyright holder.

http://www.rozlee.net

ISBN: 978-0-9985706-0-0

Table of Contents

Cover

Author’s Note

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

About the Author

Other Titles by Roz Lee

AUTHOR’S NOTE

This work was originally published in 2015 by All Romance eBooks who have since closed their doors. Publication rights, including the original cover art, were returned to me in 2016. I’ve given the cover a new look, but other than that, the story is exactly the same.

It is my firm belief that love comes in all shapes and sizes, and there are as many ways to express love as there are humans. This story contains graphic scenes that might be difficult to read, but it is true to the journey of the characters, and of course, has a happy ending.

I hope you enjoy reading Paul, Cameron, and Matt’s story.

Roz Lee

CHAPTER ONE

Matt stared at the man who, for the last decade, had been his friend, employer, mentor and father. He owed Roger his life and would do anything for him, but driving the monster truck he’d seen in the parking lot on narrow, twisting mountain roads? He shuddered, imagining all the ways the trip could go wrong. You know I love you, man, but I’m a chef, not a truck driver.

It’s easy. Roger nudged the keys to the rental vehicle closer to Matt’s side of the desk. Drive up there, get the stuff and come back. Shouldn’t take you more than half a day.

You know I hate driving mountain roads.

You’ll get over it as soon as you see the equipment you’re picking up. Cameron has an eye for style as well as functionality.

It was going to take a lot more than some pretty furniture for Matt to get past his trepidation, but he couldn’t find it in himself to say no. If Roger had said no all those years ago, Matt would probably be dead by now.

He’d been nothing more than a kid when he answered the help wanted sign in the blacked-out window of Bound. Penniless and without options, he’d knocked on the locked door, hoping to at least speak with a janitor that early in the morning. Roger had answered the summons, taken one look at the lost soul on his doorstep, and gone into Daddy mode. In short order, Matt had received a hot meal, a place to stay, and a job. It had been the first day of the rest of his life—a life he owed to the man sitting across the desk.

Okay, he sighed. But if I’m not back this afternoon, send out a search party.

Roger pushed the keys closer. Take a good look around while you’re there. You might find something you want for yourself.

He doubted that, but he snatched the keys up anyway. What do I need with furniture? His tiny apartment barely allowed room for a bed. He’d worked hard to afford a place of his own, and after years of sleeping on a cot in the backroom at Bound, the efficiency seemed like a palace.

Didn’t say anything about furniture, boy. Do yourself a favor and pay attention while you’re there, that’s all I’m saying.

Matt narrowed his eyes. Roger could be worse than an old woman sometimes. He’d been known to play matchmaker a time or two as well. Matt sure as hell hoped this wasn’t one of those times. I’m in a relationship.

Yeah, well, you know what I think about that.

Please, don’t tell me again how wrong Michael is for me. You can’t possibly know that.

I know you. I know you want a family, and your boyfriend doesn’t. He doesn’t make commitments, Matt.

They’d had this argument more than once, and though he wasn’t ready to admit it, some of Roger’s concerns might be founded. He’d known for a while that there was something missing, but no relationship was perfect. Mike is enough for me.

Are you sure about that? Matt opened his mouth to protest, but Roger cut him off. No. Don’t say anything. Just listen.

There was no sense in arguing. When Roger got in lecture mode, there was no stopping him. Matt dropped into the single visitor chair and crossed one ankle over his knee. As comfortable as he was going to get, he waved his hand for his mentor to continue.

I want you to think about what you really want, son. You’ve come a long way from the frightened kid I hired to clean up around here. The work helped you get your shit together and gave you the means to go to school and learn a trade, but working at Bound allowed you to explore your sexuality, too. You’re denying yourself in order to stay with Michael. Yes, he’s attractive, and yes, he’s a nice guy, but you need more, Matt. I’ve seen the way you play. You’re a natural submissive, boy. I don’t think Michael has a clue what you really need from a partner.

He tries.

I know he does, but I’m not sure he has it in him to be the man you need him to be.

Matt shrugged and studied his nails. Roger’s comments hit closer to home than he was ready to admit.

All I’m asking is for you to keep an open mind today. Cameron and Paul have something special, and you owe it to yourself to take a look.

He appreciated Roger’s continued interest in his life, but he was grown man now. If he wrong about Michael, the mistake was his to make. He stood. Are you done?

I’m done. The older man stood. I just want you to be happy, boy.

With no idea what awaited him, Matt headed up the mountain. The roads were every bit as treacherous as he’d imagined, but the box truck proved easier to handle than he’d thought it would, leaving his brain plenty of time to think about what Roger hadn’t said. In the years since Matt’s family had kicked him out, Roger had been his family. They’d talked extensively about Matt’s desire to be part of a family again. Some people did well on their own—take Roger, for instance. He enjoyed the company of others, but being single didn’t bother him at all. Matt was completely different. He dreamed of finding the right man and settling down. He’d trade his career as a chef for a home and a family faster than a car could disappear over one of the cliffs dotting the mountain road.

He slowed, scanning the wooded roadside for the turnoff Roger’s directions indicated should be coming up. Sure enough, a single-vehicle dirt road, marked with a discrete sign that read, The Road Home, appeared through a break in the foliage. Matt swung the wheel right, and began what proved to be a long, slow climb through pristine forest. Several minutes passed before he turned a corner into a clearing.

The cluster of buildings should have looked out of place, but they blended into their surroundings seamlessly. As soon as he saw the massive log cabin style house, the name of the road made sense. The exterior was warm and inviting—everything a home should be. He only hoped this Cameron person Roger spoke so highly of was half as welcoming, and as easy on the eyes, as his dwelling was.

***

At the sound of a vehicle climbing the long drive, Cam set his drafting pencil down and rubbed at his tired eyes with the heels of his hands. According to his cramping hands and the crick in his neck, his morning break was long overdue. It was a good thing Paul wasn’t around to see him moving like a septuagenarian. His partner wouldn’t hesitate to chastise him for not taking care of himself. No doubt, there would be punishment involved—of the loving kind. Just thinking about the creative ways Paul knew to get his point across was enough to make Cam hard. Adjusting the uncomfortable fullness in his jeans, Cam crossed to the kitchenette he’d added to his workspace at his partner’s insistence. He bypassed the mini fridge stocked with water bottles, beer, and sodas and headed straight for the single-cup brewer. Caffeine was needed if he was going to help Roger load the pieces he’d commissioned for the new club he was opening in Colorado Springs. Cam still had three more items to craft before the order was complete, but they were small, simple designs requiring little more than carpenter skills, so there was no hurry. He could knock them all out with one good day of work.

He popped in a pod of Earl Grey then leaned his hips against the counter to wait for the beverage to brew. His gaze swept the workshop, taking in the nearly completed bed as well as the finished pieces that would be leaving in a few minutes. Countless hours of his labor went into each custom made item. Loving hours he wouldn’t trade for anything. Automatically, he touched the small scar under his right eye—a reminder of a life he would never regret walking away from.

The life he and Paul had built for themselves here wasn’t perfect, but they lived on their own terms. Paul’s landscaping business took him far and wide, but when he came home, exhausted and covered in sweat and dirt, Cam was there to serve his needs. In return, Paul provided a place for Cam to design and build custom wood furniture for a niche market, and in his spare time, sculpt. On a personal level, Paul provided the structure and discipline Cam craved. By anyone’s standards, their lifestyle was different, but it worked for them. He wasn’t sure about Paul—the man didn’t seem able to let down his guard anywhere—but Cam had never been happier. Without the stress of their previous life weighing him down, his art had taken on a fresh, new look that sold well allowing him to spend less time building furniture and more time creating.

The countertop appliance gave its last heaving gurgle. Cam grabbed the steaming cup and brought it to his lips, savoring the first hot burst of flavored caffeine as it slid down his throat. He took another sip, then crossed the workshop to open the large bay door just as a rented box truck backed up to the building. Cool air rushed in reminding him that fall wasn’t far away, meaning Paul would be home more in the coming months. Memories of past winters spent isolated with his Master at their mountainside home filled him with anticipation. What kind of kinky surprises would Paul have in store for him this year? The man’s imagination knew no bounds.

Cam placed his tea mug on a nearby table and stepped out to greet the newcomer. As soon as he saw a pair of work boots emerge from the cab, he knew Roger had sent someone else this time. The owner of Bound and ReBound wouldn’t be caught dead in anything but the softest Italian leather footwear.

A hard-earned wariness raised its head. Cam glanced back at the open doorway, judging the time it would take him to close the distance and lay his hands on the baseball bat leaning against the wall next to the door.