Page 5 of The Mechanics of Lust

Wouldn’t be the first time.

“You’re embarrassing yourself.”

I spun to find my father glaring at me from just a few feet away, his lip curled in disapproval. I stumbled back, trying to make sense of him even being there.

“Dad, don’t.” My brother stepped forward, his grey eyes full of apology. With his dark hair and tall, willowy frame, Julian took much more after our mother. He lowered his voice and angled his back to our father. “I’m sorry, Zee. I had no idea you’d be here. We just stopped in for a drink on our way back from the sales.” He turned back around. “Come on, Dad. Let’s head on home.” He tugged at our father’s arm, but Paddy Lane shrugged him off.

“Dancing with another man.” My father looked scandalised. “Jesus, Zacharia.”

I tried to come up with a clever comeback, but my alcohol-soaked brain couldn’t work fast enough.

“Leave it, Dad,” Julian tried again, but my father was having none of it.

His voice rose and he leaned forward, getting right up in my face. “Is this what you want, son? You want people laughing at you? Atourfamily?”

My stomach roiled and I swallowed around the bile surging up my throat, trying to steel my emotions so my father wouldn’t hear the tremble in my voice as I replied. “I don’t see anyone laughing,Dad.”

“Things okay here, Zach?” Luke’s warm voice came over my shoulder and a hand pressed against the small of my back.

It was enough to break the mental rabbit hole I was tumbling down, and my spine straightened. “Thanks, but I’m fine.” I leaned back just enough to feel the pressure of his palm solidify, telling me he wasn’t going anywhere. I should’ve been pissed at his interference, but all I felt was... gratitude.

My father narrowed his gaze—forced to look up since Luke had a good ten or so centimetres on him. “And just who the hell are you?”

I winced at his tone, but Luke answered without hesitation. “Luke Nichols. Who the hell are you?”

I drew a sharp breath, knowing Luke must’ve known full well who he was talking to. He’d heard the story of my coming out and likely most of the conversation.

My father blinked. Almost nobody spoke to Paddy Lane in that tone of voice—the last person being Gil before he threw my father off Miller Station the previous year. I couldn’t help but smile, guessing that was more than likely exactly what Luke had been aiming for. To throw my father off his game.

But Paddy was made of stern stuff and rallied quickly. “So,you’reLuke Nichols.” He looked Luke up and down, clearly unimpressed, and I wondered how or what he knew about Luke. “Well,I’mZach’s father, and you’re interrupting a private conversation.”

“Dad, give it up.” Jules pulled at our father’s jacket. “Come on. It’s late.”

Luke’s mouth set in a thin line as he coolly studied my father. “That wasn’t a conversation,” he said bluntly. “That was an insult.”

My father reddened. “Just who the hell do you think you are?”

“I’m Zach’s friend.” Luke started forward and I immediately put out a hand to stop him.

“It’s okay, Luke. He’s leaving, aren’t you, Dad?” I glared at my father, who looked about to say something we were all going to regret, when the publican stepped between us.

“Paddy, that’s enough.” Nola eyed my father sternly. “Julian, take your father home before I have to ban his sorry arse.” She held my father’s gaze, unblinking. “Now,Paddy.”

My father chewed the inside of his cheek a moment longer, then grunted. “You belong back on Lane Station when you come to your senses, not with...them. Don’t throw away your life for no reason.” He held my gaze a moment longer, then made for the door.

Nola shot me an apologetic look, cast a curious glance at Luke, and then headed behind the bar, grumbling about ignorant, stubborn old men.

I rolled my eyes at Jules who pulled me into a quick hug. “I’m sorry, Zee.” He glanced to where my father waited for him with a sour look on his face. “I forgot it was Gil’s birthday bash or I wouldn’t have stopped by.”

I shrugged. “It’s a small place. It’s not like Dad and I can avoid each other forever.”

“I know, but still...” His cheeks pinked. “So, how are you doing?”

“Okay, I guess.” I glanced at my father who was still scowling, although this time at Luke whose hand hadn’t moved from my back. I took a half step sideways and Luke’s hand dropped away. “How’s the station?”

Julian glanced between Luke and me with obvious interest. “Same as usual. Dad is determined to muster two weeks later this year and it’s driving me crazy. He wants to use the new shearing board in the woolshed, and the contractors say it won’t be finished until then. There’s no reason we can’t use the old board until we shear again in spring, but you know Dad. Same shit, different day.” He paused. “We miss you.Imiss you. Can we meet up again soon?”

I blinked hard. “I miss you guys too. And yes, please, let’s do that. Come for dinner at the cottage and bring your guitar. I hate to admit it, but I miss listening to you play.”

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