Savor Every Moment Read online

  Savor Every Moment

  Miracle 9

  Wray Dunn was sure he had to be hallucinating. No one was actually stupid enough to try and do a handstand on a moving tractor, right? But no matter how many times he blinked or looked away, each time he returned to the sight before him, it ended up being the same, a beautiful man, who could light up the night sky with his smile, was, indeed, holding onto the steering wheel upside down. Finding out that daredevil was his mate was like a punch in the gut, since there was no way Wray could keep him.

  Elton Blakey had one motto – live life to the fullest. He didn’t believe in restraint, no matter how extreme the challenge might be. It wasn’t always easy, especially when others tried to squash his dreams, but he’d gotten over that long ago. If only his mate didn’t feel the need to do the same.

  If neither one can learn to compromise, they will lose out on their one chance at love. It will take a Miracle to teach them to Savor Every Moment.

  Warning: Extreme childhood trauma and abuse is depicted in this book.

  Copyright ©2019 Shea Balik

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Cover by: Harris Channing

  Edited by: Avril Stepowski

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  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Epilogue

  CHAPTER 1

  “Who the hell is that and what in the fuck is he doing on my tractor?” Wray stood there trying to blink the image away. No way could he be seeing what he was, right? And why was he so fucking hard watching him?

  Pryor chuckled as he turned his head in the direction Wray was looking. “That would be our new employee, Elton, who, I could be wrong, I believe Iniko sent to us so he wouldn’t be near town when he finally snaps. As for what he’s doing?”

  Wiping his dirty hands on a rag Pryor kept hanging from the back pocket of his jeans, he said, “I believe he’s working on a way to do a handstand while still keeping his weight on the seat, so as not engage the safety mechanism that shuts it down when no one is on it.

  Crossing his arms over his chest, Wray stood there dumbfounded. The slim figure had both hands on the steering wheel, but instead of sitting on the seat, he was balanced with one foot pressed onto the cushioned chair, while his upper body was upside down over his hands, and the other leg up into the air.

  If Pryor was right, and he was trying to do a handstand, the guy was a complete moron. “How does he think he’s going to stand on his hands if he can’t take his foot off the seat? And what do you mean Iniko’s afraid he’ll snap?”

  One week. Wray had been only gone one week and their farm had been changed into a three-ring circus.

  Pryor waved a hand in the direction of the odd man. “Just look at him. He’s trying to do a handstand on a tractor. Dude is crazy, with a capital C.”

  Irritation filled Wray at the way Pryor was talking about the man, even though he agreed with him. So why did he want to punch one of his best friends for disparaging the clearly unhinged man?

  Hell, Pryor was more than just a friend. They were part of the same troop run by their Alpha, Saber, who was an ape shifter. They also were the two who pretty much managed their troop’s farm.

  Yet, he had to fight back the anger that was boiling along the surface, making his fist clench with the need to punch Pryor. To take his mind off that violent desire, Wray glanced at the man who somehow managed to turn everything upside down even though Wray had never met him before.

  He scowled, although it was warring with his need to smile at the stranger’s antics - not that he was about to admit that - as he watched as Elton tried switching legs, as if that would somehow change anything.

  “Is there a reason why you let him drive across the field we were going to plant next week?” Wray fumed as he watched all their hard work of tilling the soil and getting it ready for planting was ruined with the zigzagging of the tractor, digging ruts within the freshly turned dirt.

  When Pryor took several steps back, Wray instantly went on alert. His friend only did that when he was afraid Wray was going to hit him. “Tell me,” Wray demanded, not caring that they were technically equals in running the farm.

  “Well, see, I was trying to stop Elton from…” Pryor’s gaze shot to Elton, who had stopped the tractor and gotten off at the edge of the field. Slim, graceful lines bent at the waist as he attempted to lift a sizable rock from the edge of the field over his head to put onto the seat.

  Fuck, Wray was going to have to go over there and stop him. Well, he would if Elton figured out a way to actually get the rock over his head instead of dropping it every time he got it as high as his waist. When the rock dropped for the third time, Wray figured there was no hurry.

  “Yesterday I was showing him around and he saw the tractor and started singing that song about green tractors or something.” Pryor shook his head in confusion.

  Wray wasn’t surprised. Pryor hated country music, much preferring to head bang to heavy metal. It was a point of contention between he and Pryor as to who got to pick out the music when they were working together.

  “Anyway,” Pryor waved a hand in Elton’s direction. “He went from singing about tractors to asking if anyone had ever done any gymnastics on them while driving. I tried to tell him that was dangerous, but he insisted on trying.”

  Pryor shoved his hands into his front pockets and toed at the dirt. “I was just trying to stop him from getting hurt.”

  “What did you do?” Wray knew this couldn’t be good if Pryor was avoiding spitting it out. Little did he know how bad, bad could be.

  “I tried to distract him by asking him to help me.” He crooked his elbow and pointed his thumb behind him toward the smaller of the fou
r greenhouses they had built during the winter. “At first, he accidently dug up the row of thyme and rosemary instead of pulling the weeds, even though I’d carefully showed him the difference. Then, trying to make up for it, he was telling me he heard that acidity was good for plants, but instead of adding it properly, he dumped a gallon of pure acid on the tomato plants.”

  Wray was sure his mouth had dropped open at some point during this story, but he was so stunned he couldn’t feel any part of his body to know. All that work was now down the drain. They would have to dig all that dirt up and put in fresh before they could hope to replant anything.

  “Afraid he’d end up demolishing the greenhouse, I took him outside and had him help plant our next outdoor planting of carrots and beets.” Pryor shook his head, his hands fell out of his pockets, slapping against his legs in what appeared to be defeat, maybe.

  “I still don’t know how he did it,” Pryor said. “I gave him the seeds, yet somehow he had run out and instead of coming to me, he went to the barn and got more.”

  There wasn’t anything wrong with the story so far. Well, maybe the part about Pryor not giving him enough to begin with was a problem. That wasn’t like Pryor.

  “I mean, I gave way more than he should have needed, so I hadn’t expected him to go find the seeds on his own. Yet, instead of carrots and beets, he managed to grab wheat. I mean, they don’t even look the same.”

  Wray closed his eyes and sighed. That was bad. Really, really bad.

  “I had no idea what to do,” Pryor told him as if trying to make Wray understand. What concerned Wray the most was, he wasn’t trying to explain what had already happened, but what was to come.

  Dread raced down Wray’s spine as he waited for Pryor to finish. “I must have told him at some point that I was going to spread fertilizer on the new field to get it ready for next week. Because as I tried to wrap my head around what he’d done and how in the hell I was going to fix it, he had gone back to the barn and gotten the fertilizer and started spreading it himself.”

  Wray frowned. Okay, that wasn’t a problem. Except the look on Pryor’s face told him it was more than just a problem, it was something Wray was going to flip out over.

  But before Pryor could finish, they heard a shout of joy. They both turned to where Elton had been wrestling with the big rock. Horror raced through Wray’s body as Elton climbed up onto the tractor, its seat now filled with a bunch of smaller rocks, but with enough weight to keep the machine running even if no one was sitting there.

  The moment Elton put the tractor in gear, Wray’s brain fired, and he raced after the man, praying he’d be able to stop him before he killed himself by doing some stupid stunt. By the sounds of it, Elton was an idiot, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t be on Wray and Pryor’s heads if the man died on their watch.

  As a hyena shifter he was fast, much faster than that tractor. Unfortunately, he hadn’t been all that close, and Elton had apparently been so excited to try his trick that the tractor had barely moved when he placed his hands on the steering wheel and pushed his body into a handstand.

  He’d heard of tragedy happening in slow motion, but Wray had never experienced it for himself. He was more than halfway to Elton when the tractor hit something and started to tilt over.

  Even above the noise of the machine he heard a voice cry, “Oh come on, I barely got to do it.” Followed by a yelp as the tractor tipped onto its side.

  For several terrifying seconds, Wray felt his heart leap into his throat as he watched the thing fall. He’d gotten less than ten feet from what he was sure was going to be a crushed body, when he saw Elton push against the steering wheel and propel his body away from the large machine, landing softly on the pads of his feet with his arms over his head as if proving to the world he’d stuck the landing.

  Anger and relief surged through Wray causing him to lash out. “Are you out of your fucking mind?”

  Elton tilted his head toward Wray, a slight furrow appearing between his brows. “I think you got that mixed up. Minds can’t fuck, only bodies. Although, I suppose some people claim the endorphins after an orgasm can feel as if one’s brain has been thoroughly fucked, so you might be right.”

  Then he shrugged. “Not that I’ve experienced anything that good. I mean, I’ve had sex, even had many orgasms, but none of them were good enough for me to feel as if my brain had been fucking.” His head tilted the other way as he continued to look right at Wray with green eyes that were so pale, they were almost translucent. “What about you? Have you ever felt as if you were out of your fucking mind?”

  Wray blinked at the odd man. Then blinked again, sure this conversation wasn’t happening. “Are you high?” he finally asked when no matter how many times he blinked, Elton was still standing there looking as if he hadn’t nearly been crushed by a half-ton machine.

  In the next instant, Wray’s breath was stolen as Elton gave him the most beautiful smile he’d ever seen. Was that lip gloss causing his lips to be so shiny? Now that Wray noticed that, he also saw eyeliner around his eyes and a sparkly purple eyeshadow.

  “Only on life,” Elton told him before turning back to the tractor. “Do you think if I can lift it back upright, it will work so I can try the other tricks I wanted to do?”

  Wray opened his mouth to tell Elton exactly what he should do next, and it had nothing to do with the tractor and everything with getting the hell off their farm, when the wind picked up and the most amazing scent of wildflowers mixed with a hint of pear hit Wray.

  “Oh, hell no,” he said out loud without thinking about it. “No way are you my mate.”

  CHAPTER 2

  Elton frowned, his chest tightening as tears sprang to his eyes. He would have thought, by now, it wouldn’t hurt so bad whenever someone said something cruel to him. Yet, it did. A lot.

  Then again, to talk about not wanting him for a mate was harsh. Not that Elton had asked, or even could have since fate decided those things. Damn, did the angry, uptight man have to rub his nose in it? Elton refused to acknowledge just how sexy the guy was even if his lips were turned down into what appeared be a permanent frown. What was the point if he was willing to be that mean?

  Sure, Elton would love to find the man meant for him. Who wouldn’t? His entire life, Elton had been thrown away by anyone who had ever claimed to love him. His parents and sister had done it. After that, it had been a string of lovers, who claimed to want him, only to toss him aside as soon as they’d fucked him a few times.

  He’d begun to believe no one would ever love him. Even his mate. Then one of his best friends, Greyson, had met his own mate, who was quirky, kind of like Elton. Greyson never even considered walking away from his Iniko, even when his mate accused him of trying to make him a slave.

  If Greyson could love Iniko, then surely Elton’s mate would love him. Right?

  Still, that didn’t mean the man had to be rude about everything. Elton didn’t go around telling people he refused to be their mate. If he’d wanted the guy’s opinion on the matter, he would have asked.

  And what in the hell was wrong with trying to have a little fun? Why did everyone feel the need to point out he was crazy? Unique? Sure, but that didn’t equate to needing the looney bin.

  It wasn’t until Elton realized he wore a matching frown to the man with the stick up his ass, that he felt the anger and resentment building within him. “Great.” Elton flung his arms up over his head and let them fall back down to his sides. “Now look what you’ve done.”

  Pissed that he was pissed, Elton stomped around the tractor and went right up to the stranger who felt it his job to ruin a perfectly good day by just showing up. He opened his mouth to tell the man what he could do with his opinions and bad attitude when he smelled the most enticing aroma of fresh ocean air with a hint of its salty brine that he swore made him drool as it coated his tongue.

  “No,” he said adamantly. “No fucking way.”

  Those tears he’d managed to quell mome
nts ago rose up and spilled over to roll down his cheeks. His whole body quivered in despair as he stared into the chestnut eyes that were still glaring daggers at him. His lips trembled as he tried to tell the man he couldn’t do this to him. It wasn’t right.

  But that had been the story of Elton’s life. What was it about him that no one could love? The need to run away was too great but not before his wavering voice had managed to whisper, “You were the one person who was supposed to love me no matter what.”

  Then he took off running, not caring where he went, just so long as it wasn’t there.

  ***

  “There you are,” Greyson said softly, most likely trying not to startle Elton. His friend sat next to Elton on the rock overlooking a stream and put his arm around him.

  As needy as he was for some affection, Elton didn’t hesitate to lean against Greyson’s strong body as he watched the water rush by now that stream was filled as the warm spring sun had melted all the snow. He’d considered shifting and taking a dip, but he wasn’t sure his pink flamingo would appreciate the icy waters. Maybe when summer came, and it wasn’t so chilly.

  “Want to tell me what happened?” Greyson asked.

  Gods no, he thought. How much more humiliation could Elton take before even his friends ditched him for someone who was lovable? Already, Iniko took most of Greyson’s attention. It wasn’t like it would require much for his friends to rather be around Greyson’s mate than him. At least Iniko hadn’t gotten them kicked out of town after town for not hiding who he was.

  It wasn’t as if Elton could help it. Ever since he was little, he was… for lack of a better term… flamboyant. Not just about being gay, but about being who he was, which for him, meant being Fab-u-lous.

  He let out a heavy sigh. That’s what always ended up getting him into trouble though. Ward had always tried to caution him to not be so… out there. He’d often get teased by others around him that he was too damn perky to be real. What he never understood was, why was that a bad thing?