Love in the Clouds

Chapter 2-1

Chapter 2

Dustin

His workshop was hotter than usual, sweat dripping down his back as he sanded the oak desk. Sawdust swirled around him, sticking to his damp skin and the lure of a shower beckoned. But he had a deadline and had never delivered one of his custom pieces late. Never. He prided himself on that.

He used his arm to wipe the sweat from his brow and moved to the last side. He loved how the piece had turned out. Modern, clean lines, with mid-century-styled legs and a long drawer centered under the desktop. He planned to apply a dark stain the next morning. He’d set aside the morning to finish the desk and two coffee tables, then planned to spend the rest of the day at the airport.

God, he couldn’t believe he was going to be the owner of his own Cessna. It was a dream come true. Yeah, it needed some TLC, but he could do that. Being his own boss and working from home definitely had its advantages—setting his own hours being his favorite.

His body fairly thrummed from the excitement of getting his pilot’s license, purchasing his own plane, and planning his dream trip to Oshkosh, Wisconsin with his best friend.

Flying there had been a dream of his since childhood. When he was eight, going up in the air with his Uncle Jim had lit a fire in him. When he was a teenager, he’d found the Experimental Aircraft Association, or EAA. Their annual convention was a fly-in at an airport in Oshkosh, and from that day on, it had been his goal to attend as a pilot.

Taking Raf was the cherry on the sundae.

They’d been friends since college, bonding in a way Dustin had never done with anyone else. Their friendship was the best relationship he’d ever had. He couldn’t wait to show Raf his plane the next day, knowing he’d be just as excited. Dustin hadn’t shown him any of the pictures of the plane on his phone because he wanted him to see it in person—he wanted Raf to feel the same thrill he’d felt when he’d first laid eyes on it. Raf’s opinion meant more to Dustin than anyone else’s. He hadn’t even considered asking anyone other than Raf to accompany him to the convention.

A quick glance at his phone reminded him he didn’t have a lot of time to finish and get to the bank to sign the papers, then head to Jack’s. He put on some 90s music and focused on the task at hand.

Soon, he made his way through the backyard, following the stone path to the door and walking into his kitchen. He’d purchased his home last year, the detached workshop being the immediate draw for him. The two-bedroom home was small, but it fit his needs. It wasn’t a new home, but the previous owners had remodeled the kitchen and living areas with beautiful hardwood flooring in a dark stain, new cabinetry with glass inserts, and a gorgeous marble countertop and matching island.

He was slowly making the home his, painting the living room walls a dark teal, the kitchen walls a warm spice, and adding a teal backsplash, both colors drawn from the variety of shades in the marble.

A carpenter by trade, he’d built his own farm-style planked kitchen table and chairs and a matching buffet that fit along the far wall. He hadn’t even started on the bedrooms, but he hoped to talk Raf into helping him paint them. Dustin knew his friend would do it for pizza. He could always count on Raf.

He hopped into the shower, eager to get going, but his mind stayed on Raf. The way the man had looked in that towel yesterday had jarred Dustin. They’d seen each other in various stages of undress over the years and he’d always thought Raf good-looking, but they’d only ever been friends, never feeling the desire to cross that line.

But yesterday, watching the droplets of water bead up and trail down Raf’s chest and arms had mesmerized Dustin. Gorgeous caramel-colored skin covered broad shoulders, muscular arms, and a flat belly. Dark hair swirled around hard pecs, meeting in the middle and traveling down the center to disappear into that towel. And just like that, Dustin had felt something more than friendship for Raf—something more like lust.

But he hadn’t dated in months, so he chalked it up to needing to get laid. Maybe after hanging out at Jack’s, he’d hit a club in the next city over. But first on the agenda was the bank.

He wasn’t sure what to expect when he pulled up to Bank of Rain Valley, but he was in and out in less than an hour, the owner of his very own plane. The process had been boring and technical, but in the end he wanted to shout for joy. He managed to keep himself under control…until he climbed into his SUV and gave a fist-bump into the air, letting out a loud “Woot”!

The grin on his face never wavered as he made his way to the bar.

When he entered Jack’s, he glanced around, quickly realizing his friends weren’t there. His brow furrowed in confusion. He’d seen Raf’s Silverado in the parking lot.

Jack caught his eye near the bar and waved him over.

“Hey, Dustin.” Jack clapped him on the shoulder. “Follow me. I put your group in the back room because there are so many of you tonight.”

“Oh, great. I was wondering.” He followed Jack to the room generally reserved for private parties, although he couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen it used.

Jack pushed open the swinging door, sweeping out his hand for Dustin to enter first.

“Surprise!” a variety of voices sang out in chorus.

He took a step back. So many of his friends were there, all standing and smiling at him. Matthew and his partner, Ian, who he hadn’t seen in weeks. Andrew, Peter, Sam, and Russell at the other end of the table. Caleb and Lucas near Raf. His gaze met Raf’s, who grinned at him, and Dustin ignored the way his belly flipped, and he smiled back. The small room managed to fit four square tables. A banner exclaiming Congratulations hung above a longer table against the far wall. A small buffet sat near the door.

“What is all this?”

Raf handed him a beer. “We’re all so proud of you for following your dream, Dusty. Congratulations on getting your pilot’s license.”

His cheeks heated at Raf’s use of his nickname. Raf was the only one who called him Dusty. For some reason, hearing him say it in front of others made it seem intimate.

“Thanks. This is amazing, everyone!”

His friends surrounded him, all offering congratulations. As someone who usually didn’t mind being the center of attention, he was surprised at the overwhelming feelings. Raf must have noticed because he gently extricated him from the group and steered him to a table.

“Thanks,” he whispered.

Raf nodded. “Of course. Here, check out the cake. Jack’s sister made it.”

When he took a look, he laughed. A plane-shaped cake—adorable, like a kid’s birthday party cake—sat in the middle of the table. But the coolest part was seeing his own face printed in the plane window. “Oh, my God! How did she do that?”

Raf shrugged. “I guess you can print on frosting. She asked me for a pic of you, so I texted her one.”

Dustin side-eyed him. “You have a pic of me in your phone?”

Raf’s face turned bright red and he cleared his throat. “Whatever. Of course.”

Interesting.

Caleb clapped him on his back, interrupting his thoughts.

“So, you’re a pilot, huh? That’s so awesome. Follow your dream, man.”

Caleb knew something about following a dream. He’d played for the Rain Valley Rabbits, a minor league baseball team, until an injury had forced him out of the game. He’d found another calling as an assistant coach at the high school. Dustin had a lot of respect for him.

“Thanks. It felt surreal yesterday.”

“So what’s the plan?”

“Plan?”

“I mean, what are you going to do with it? Fly for an airline?”

Dustin chuckled. “God, no. And that would be a different license. Besides, I love building furniture. But I did just purchase a plane. A 1976 Cessna Skyhawk.”

“Seriously? You bought a f*****g plane?” Jack asked as he joined them.

“It’s a four-seater, single-engine plane. Needs a little work, but I’ve rented a hangar at the airport and will be working on it. It’s being delivered tomorrow.”

“You have any pics?”

That question came from Lucas, Caleb’s partner. He glanced at the man, then Raf, and lied. He didn’t want anyone to see it before Raf. And he wasn’t going to analyze that at the moment either. “Not yet. But I’ll post some on i********: tomorrow when it arrives.”

Conversation continued as they sliced the cake and settled at the tables. Raf took a seat next to him and dug in. His best friend loved chocolate and Jack’s sister made a mean chocolate cake.

“What time are we heading out tomorrow?”

“I need to be there about eleven. But I was wondering, could we take your truck? I need to stop at Home Depot and pick up the new Craftsman Heavy Duty rolling toolbox I ordered.”

“Ah, I get it. You love me for my truck.”

Dustin laughed. “Yeah, that’s it.”

“Of course. I’ll be at your house no later than eleven.”

Dustin tried to focus on his cake, but he couldn’t shake what Raf had just said. Normally, they teased each other all the time. So why did Raf’s crack about loving him for his truck make Dustin feel off-kilter? He didn’t have time to dwell, though, as Lucas slid into the seat on the other side of him.

“This plane gonna be able to fly?”

“No. It’s going to sit in the hangar and never see the light of day. Of course it’s going to fly. The Cessna is a great plane and it just needs a little work. I’ve already got plans to take Raf on a trip this summer.”

Lucas chuckled. “Eloping?”

Dustin gaped at him as he glanced to make sure Raf hadn’t heard. “What?”

His friend rolled his eyes. “Seriously? You guys are practically married. You’re joined at the hip.”

“We’re…we’re best friends.” His eyebrows raised as he stared at Caleb.

“You keep telling yourself that’s all you two are, Dustin.” He laughed and raised his glass. “To the new pilot.”

Dustin raised his and they clinked glasses, but he couldn’t stop considering what Lucas had said. Why did the words send a thrill through him? He chugged his beer, then reached for the pitcher, pouring another and quickly downing it. When he started on another, he felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see Raf.

“Slow down, Dusty. Big day tomorrow, remember?”

Dustin set down the glass and it sloshed a little. f**k. He was more than tipsy.

Raf whispered into his ear, “We can leave your car here and I’ll run you home. It’s a celebration, so live a little, but don’t go overboard.”

Dustin grinned and bumped his shoulder against Raf’s. “You’re so good to me. Maybe I should keep you.”

Raf shot him a strange look, but Lucas started talking again, so Dustin turned to him.

The party ran late, and by the time he made it into the parking lot, he felt the buzz. A cool breeze hit his heated skin and he breathed deep. Raf had his arm around Dustin’s waist as they walked to his truck, creating a pleasant warmth that spread through him. He leaned his head against Raf’s shoulder and slipped his arm around him.

“You’re the best friend I’ve ever had.” He knew he slurred his words, but he couldn’t stop talking. An intense need to say things to Raf overrode his common sense.

“Me, too.” Raf’s voice sounded loud in the nearly empty lot.

“I mean it. I love you, Raf.”

Raf chuckled. “I think you’re drunk, Dusty.” He opened the passenger door and helped him slide in.

Dustin sat, his legs hanging out the door, facing Raf. He looked into his eyes, dark in the night, and shook his head. “No. Really, man. I love you. You’re awesome.” He trailed a couple of fingers through the hair on the man’s forearm and smiled. “I knew they’d feel silky.”

Raf turned him around, buckled him in, then shut the door.

He must have dozed off, because the next thing he remembered was pulling up in Raf’s driveway. His friend helped him inside and led him to his bedroom.

“You take the bed, I’ll take the sofa,” he said, standing in the doorway.

“That’s stupid. Hell, we’re going to be in a small tent in a few weeks when we camp next to my plane. Just sleep in here.”

Raf looked surprised, but didn’t argue. Dustin sat on the bed, toed off his shoes, then removed his jeans, dropping them to the floor and climbing under the blanket in his boxer briefs and T-shirt. He lay on his back and stared at the ceiling.

He heard Raf in the bathroom brushing his teeth and he closed his eyes when he felt the dip in the mattress. Weird, but his best friend’s scent soothed him. Enveloped him.

“Good night, Raf,” he whispered.

“Night, Dusty.”

He fell asleep in seconds.