Wild Raspberries Read Online Free PDF Page A

looking all pumped up. Just strong and tall, and shit, if Tyler glanced down now, he’d get an eyeful. If he did, Dan didn’t spot it; Tyler just rolled his shoulders and then set off toward the chimney. Dan scowled down — his dick had gotten him in so much trouble recently, he was contemplating celibacy — and crawled across the roof a safe distance behind Tyler, which meant he got to admire the man’s ass again, as well. He was revising his estimate of Tyler’s age down to mid-thirties. Still too old for him, of course.
    They completed the repair by the chimney in a silence that was peaceful, not strained. Tyler seemed to have asked all the questions he wanted to, and Dan had decided that keeping quiet was the safest option around someone as quick on the uptake as Tyler.
    Tyler let him hammer the last nail home, which Dan enjoyed doing because he was good with his hands, always had been, and a small part of him wanted to let Tyler see that. It felt good to hit it just so and watch it go where it belonged.
    “That’s good enough,” Tyler said and wiped his forehead with his sleeve. “Let’s get the hell off this roof. I feel like I’m being barbecued.”
    “Or slow-roasted,” Dan agreed, reaching out for the tub of nails and fitting the lid on it snugly.
    They started to move back to the ladder, caution making Dan keep back and let Tyler take the lead. The shingles were slippery with age, and his sweaty hands weren’t much use at controlling his descent down the gradual slope.
    Tyler moved like a cat, sure-footed and fast, which made what happened next even more unfair. Dan watched Tyler’s hand drag over something that glittered fiercely in the sunlight —glass? — and called out a warning in the instant that Tyler grunted in pain and brought his hand up to his mouth. Blood welled and dripped from the ragged tear, but before the first scarlet drop hit the roof, Tyler was rolling, his balance lost, gravity sucking at him and calling him home.
    Dan scrambled after him, heedless of his own precarious footing, and got to the edge of the roof in time to see Tyler land, one foot doubled up under him, the breath driven out of his body by the force of his landing.
    He didn’t cry out, or swear, which disturbed Dan more than screams of pain would have. He just lay there, his face contorted, and fought to refill his lungs with harsh gasps and pants that hurt to hear.
    “I’m coming!” Dan called out, uselessly, pointlessly. He swung himself onto the ladder and jumped off it as soon as he was close to the ground. By the time he got to where Tyler had landed, Tyler was sitting up.
    “Left ankle,” he said, his voice tight. “Broke it a few years back.” He bit his lip and then eased his foot out in front of him, using both hands. “Fuck, that hurts.” He gave Dan a quizzical glance. “I guess it’s your turn to do me a good deed.”
    “I’ll call an ambulance,” Dan said. He wanted to do something — put his arm around Tyler’s shoulders; maybe pat Tyler’s arm comfortingly, but the man was so self-sufficient and calm it would’ve seemed like an insult.
    Tyler shook his head. “No need. It’s not broken again; just sprained. I meant, take me into town in my truck. You were headed that way, anyway. Doc Collins will see to me.”
    Dan summoned up some vague memories of a first aid course. “RICE,” he said. “Rest, ice —”
    “I know all that.” Pain was etching lines around Tyler’s mouth. “Yeah. Better get it strapped up and some ice on it before it starts swelling.” He nodded at the cabin. “I guess you can find the ice, and there’re bandages and such in the cupboard in the bathroom.” He held up his bleeding hand and examined it before sighing. “Fucking glass. How in the name of God did that get up there? Better bring some water, too, so I can wash it out.”
    “Sure,” Dan said. “I’ll get it.” He laid his hand on Tyler’s shoulder, needing to breach the isolation the