Free Rough [02] - Roughhousing by Laura Baumbach Page A

his mother heedlessly breezed by. James smiled and waved and took his seat in the truck, his nervousness replaced by a bright smile for his lover as Bram slid behind the wheel. It had been a good morning so far.
    The rest of the day was spent shopping for groceries, picking up dry cleaning, and taking over an hour for Bram to help select the right lock for his apartment door. James would have purchased the easiest one to install, but Bram had insisted on finding the hardest one to break instead.
    By afternoon, they had stopped for lunch at “Bits and Pieces", a local diner near Bram's place. James had feasted on a steak sandwich so stuffed with savory meat, onions, cheese, and mushrooms he had trouble getting it into his mouth. He met several more neighborhood regulars there, and even one of Bram's crew dropped in. The diner was a very popular haunt.
    At home Bram decided to spend the next couple of hours cleaning up the courtyard and disassembling the old fountain, all the while musing about what to do with the empty library. He dropped the hint that it was big enough for two people to share as an office without danger of crossing over into each other's space. James absently agreed, but in his head he indulged in the fantasy of his drafting desk set up near the bank of glass doors and his collection of architectural digests and books on the rich mahogany shelves.
    Shaking himself out of the daydream, James put his back into the job of clearing the neat, well-worn paving stones of dirt and leaves, happy to be included in the simple domestic chores. He'd missed the feeling of accomplishment working on a personal project gave him. If he was truthful with himself, he missed having a real home. His apartment was comfortable, but it had never given him that sense of permanence or security that even just spending time at Bram's home did. He hadn't felt that way since leaving his parents’ house, and knowing he wasn't welcome back there had added an extra hollow spot to his heart. It felt particularly empty right now.
    A rough hand ruffled through his hair as he swept away a pile of dry leaves. Looking up, James caught an expression of gentle fondness mixed with simmering heat on Bram's dirt-smudged face. It brought a grin to his lips. The cold ache that had been building in his stomach vanished. Damn. One glance from the passionate, free-loving man and James’ body and soul responded and warmed. Bram seemed able to fill all the lonely spots in James’ life, even the ones the other man didn't know existed.
    James returned the smoldering look, but doggedly went back to sweeping away the debris from the cozy courtyard. There would be plenty of time to put out that fire later. He was sure of that. Bram was a very loving and demonstrative man.
    Bram choose that moment to lift off the top tier of the old fountain and James stopped working long enough to appreciate the man's bulging muscles and tight ass and thighs as he hefted the heavy section and carried it out the side gate. James wasn't sure which made him hotter, the man's buff body or the raw, sensual power Bram possessed. Maybe it was both. Then again, he decided, maybe it was the surprising depth of tenderness and caring that lay under all that hard flesh.
    Despite the cool breeze picking up, by eight o'clock they were both hot, sweaty, and tired. Bram brushed the remnants of crumpled leaves off the knees of his jeans. He arched his back.
    "What do you say we call it a night, Jamie, okay?"
    James pulled the last weed growing up from the fine cracks between the ancient stone pavers and tossed it into the wheelbarrow at his side. Standing, he groaned and mirrored Bram's stance, blinking at the sound of his vertebrae popping back into place.
    "I'm down with that.” He hissed and rubbed his low back. Shrugging, James worked one shoulder, then the other, trying to loosen the sore muscles. Getting a whiff of himself as he raised his arms, he wrinkled his nose and pulled his