Savior Complex: An MM Age Gap Romance (Wild Heart Ranch Book 3)

I’ve been helping Ant with the horses this week, and I can see why they are so healing. Watching Levy work with person after person, using the horses to help people see what they need to see in themselves…it’s amazing.

The session I liked the best was the one with the group of high schoolers. Not going to lie, teenagers these days scare the shit out of me, but all the teenagers in this group have been through something difficult. A difficult health diagnosis, abuse, tragedy, and yet, none of them seemed despondent.

Better still, Levy’s whole vibe—the way he is so adamantly himself—seemed to infuse everyone with a sense of peace. Weird, since conventional wisdom would paint a heavily tattooed, heavily pierced man as intimidating. Levy’s not intimidating though. He’s just himself, and being himself allows other people to be themselves around him. It’s pretty fucking effective.

I also got Ant to give me more details on the accident that killed Levy and Bram’s parents. I recognize this work Levy’s doing for what it is: a deep desire to do good in the world with a healthy dose of survivor’s guilt.

He’s got this humble self-assuredness about himself, but there is an undercurrent of…need. He needs something he’s not getting. He admitted as much the other day when he said he wanted a relationship. I’m guessing he doesn’t want anyone to see how badly it hurts to not have what he needs, but I do.

It’s Sunday morning, and I show up at Levy’s place early. He stayed here last night, and I missed him and his sweet smile this morning.

His Airstream trailer is awesome, and I understand Nacho is the one who did most of the renovation work on it. Levy mentioned he wants to take Nacho’s upgrades to the next level, starting with a deck.

He wants to make it comfortable to be outside, which in Texas means he’ll be adding the same water misting system the ranch uses. I pull up, and he’s already leveled the ground and is about to mark out the footprint of the deck, with the supplies for the project off to the side.

“Hey there, stranger,” I call out, walking up to him, heroically keeping my hands to myself.

“Hey.”

Shoving his hands in his jeans pockets, the need that resides under his painted skin is visible in his pretty eyes. The way they silently plead for relief fires up every carnal instinct in my body.

Before meeting Levy, I’d used the word needy to describe somebody who was pathetic or unable to provide for themselves. I now see I was wrong.

Levy’s needs are like my very own wish list. He longs to love and care for someone and to be cared for in return, and after spending this week watching him work, an absolutely insane part of my soul has become desperate to give it to him.

It’s a ridiculous notion, of course. I’ve been roaming the countryside for so long that I can’t imagine being tied down. I need my space, and yet…something tells me that taking care of Levy would feel like cool shade on a hot summer day.

Calmate, pendejo.

Like I said. Ridiculous.

Even as I’m chiding myself for my overblown notions of the impossible, I’m struck by the way the morning sunshine lights up his unkempt hair and makes his amber eyes sparkle.

“Coffee?” he asks, holding up a jug the size of my head.

“Sure. Do you have cream and sugar?”

“I’ve already mixed it in,” he admits sheepishly.

I pour myself a cup, and when it hits my tongue, I let out a groan that colors the edges of his ears.

“That is some damn good coffee.”

“Glad you like it. Ant would double the cream and the sugar, but I figure the rest of us want to keep our teeth.”

“I appreciate that,” I murmur, taking another delicious sip.

We take a moment to enjoy our coffees and then start marking out the footprint of both decks, setting up string around each footprint to ensure a level deck.

When we’re done with that, Levy wanders off to the side, scratching his head.

“Something not right?”

“No, the deck is fine. I, uh…nah, it’s too much.”

“What’s too much?”

He pulls out a folded piece of paper from his back pocket. Stepping in close, I peer over his shoulder. It’s a simple shower design.

“Is this an outdoor shower?”

He nods. “The shower inside is ridiculous. It’s the size of a closet. A very small closet. I had a stress dream about it last night, and when I woke up, I sketched this out. Too bad there’s not enough wood to complete it.”

“Do you want me to go grab the materials for it now?”

He shakes his head. “No, it’s too much for today, and I’d rather focus on the decks. I have a few days off, so I’ll see how motivated I am Monday or Tuesday.”

“I’m going to be here for a while, so I’m happy to help you with that too.”

He runs his tattooed hand over his beard, trying and completely failing to hide a smile. It’s this innate goodness, his sense of being lit from within, that contrasts with what’s inside me.

Levy strikes me as the kind of person who was born good. I only became good after my nephew was sold. The guilt always hanging out around the edges presses in on me.

I was well into my thirties, still running around, getting high with my neighborhood buddies. They called me brother and let me sell some of their weed so I could hold off on getting a real job. No way was I going to be tied down like those other suckers with families.

Most of my friends were in the local gang—that’s where the drugs came from—but I’d passed on officially joining them. Despite being a selfish asshole who worried my mother, I couldn’t break her heart.

As it was, she spent many sleepless nights praying for me to make it home safely. She has no idea how many close calls and near misses I’ve had over the years. I was an idiot, blowing cops so they wouldn’t arrest me for dealing, brushing elbows with the worst kind of scum on the planet. Though they didn’t look like the worst kind of scum. They looked like my neighborhood brothers.

Everything changed when Antonio was sold. I asked my “brothers” for help, and they turned their backs on me. Every last one of them.

Years later, while conducting my insane, desperate investigation into Ant’s disappearance, I learned the people who took and sold Ant were connected to the same gang I’d been riding alongside all those years.

By that point, I had a reputation and a nickname, but none of my old running buddies knew who I was. Who I’d become. I had it in my mind that I would take them out—one at a time if I had to. I started by taking out the worst of them first, cutting off the head of the guy who’d directly purchased Ant and making it look like his second in command had done it.

The gang imploded, and I thought I’d gotten my revenge. I quickly learned that many of these gangs are mere pawns for larger money-making operations. Given the scope, making it about revenge would only take me to darker and darker places and eventually get me killed.

Within months, the people who’d died had been replaced, and some new version of the same gang sprung up in its place.

The fact of the matter is the drugs I sold helped them bankroll everything else. Just because I didn’t knowingly take an enslaved person from point A to point B doesn’t mean I wasn’t culpable for those who disappeared into the vortex of trafficking victims.

Still, I had unwittingly cost them a lot of money with those two strategic kills. I let that inform the rest of my time in the trenches. Even though I worked alone, I could slow down the operations, maybe save a few people while I was at it.

It wasn’t much, not really, but I had to do something.

I’m too ashamed to let Ant know about my involvement, and I hope this new life is enough to make up for my past. It’s a different kind of survivor’s guilt, I realize, but it’s something I have in common with Levy.

I blink back to the present and realize Levy is looking at me funny. “What?” I ask, scrubbing my cheek. “Do I have mud on my face?”

He shakes his head, tucking away his plans. “I feel bad because we haven’t even begun yet, and you’re already sweating,” he says, gesturing to the white tank top spackled to my chest.

I shrug, lifting it over my head and tossing it over the stair railing. “I don’t mind being a little sweaty,” I say, looking him up and down. “You’re pretty sweaty too.”

Biting at the ring in his lower lip, he reaches back and grabs his shirt, pulling it over his head, revealing his tattooed torso and that perfect handful of pale belly under intricate designs. He’s switched out his nipple rings for more discreet bars, but my mouth waters all the same.

Instinctively I reach out and run my fingers through his wild hair. His chest rises sharply as he leans into the touch. With his hair fixed, I run my fingers through his beard.

“You have such a pretty beard. It’s a shame you don’t take better care of it,” I say, teasing him gently as my hands land on his bare shoulders.

“The last time I tried to trim it, I ended up having to shave it off and start all over again.”

“I’d be happy to show you a few grooming tips if you want them,” I offer, gesturing to my salt-and-pepper facial hair.

“Okay,” he answers softly.

“In the meantime, we have to protect all this pale artistic skin,” I say, letting my thumbs drift to his collarbones.

“I have sunscreen.” He jerks his chin awkwardly over at the tool bag.

I stalk over to it and grab the tube, pouring it into my hands as I walk back to him.

“Oh, don’t worry about me. I can—”

He inhales sharply when my hands land on his shoulders. I work the sunscreen down his arms, down his back, and over his delightfully red ears. Adding a bit more sunscreen to my hands, I spread it over his chest, using my thumbs to swirl it around his nipples before moving down to his belly.

His heavy breathing is everything to me, but the sound of a vehicle coming down the long drive stills my hands. I have a few more seconds before we are visible, so I swipe a few stripes along his nose, cheeks, and forehead, rubbing them in as I maintain eye contact.

“There,” I lean in to whisper. “Now you’re safe. From the sun, at least.”

I step back just as the Wild Heart truck clears the trees. Ant’s driving, and Bram and Nacho, who live in the house upfront, are riding in the bed. Levy rips his eyes from mine as they park next to my truck. Nacho hangs over the side, already cracking jokes.

“Niiice. Y’all are already half-naked. A promising start to the day.”

Levy steps back, clearing his throat. “Sorry, it’s so hot today, guys. I’ll make sure to keep the drinks cold.”

Nacho waves him off and holds up one of those water bottles with times marked out on it. “I’m good. Bram makes sure I’m well hydrated at all times.”

I don’t know exactly what’s going on with those two, but it’s definitely kinky. They’re not rude or anything, but the sexual tension between them is high, especially for an established couple. It’s good to see them keeping it spicy.

Marking out everything saves us a lot of time, and with five of us working on the project, we make quick progress, even as we catch up with each other.

“Oh! Did I tell you? I got a saddle on Domino yesterday,” Ant says, nailing a board in place with a big grin.

Levy lights up, and his pride for Ant’s progress is another shot to my heart.

“Dude! How the hell did you do that?”

“Very carefully,” he tosses back, laughing. “Charlie called over Luke, and between the two of us, Domino’s sorta coming out of his shell.”

“And you like working with Luke?” I ask.

Ant nods enthusiastically. “He’s such a sweet guy. He and Sparrow are so different, but I kind of get it. They balance each other out.”

“All good relationships do,” Bram says, sending a sweet…er…heated look to Nacho.

Nacho hides a grin as he takes a dramatic sip from his water bottle. Levy looks at me, then at the bottle, his brow comically raised and his eyes sparkling with mischief. I’m pretty sure that bottle has something to do with Bram and Nacho’s not-so-secret dynamic.

Oy. This place.

By the time we break for lunch, we’re all sweaty and shirtless, and the front deck is done.

“Is your creek safe?” I ask, gesturing to the thick ribbon of water winding its way through the woods behind the trailer.

Levy nods. “I’ve been down there a few times and haven’t seen anything scary. No water moccasins or other unpleasant beasties. Just clear water.”

I unbutton my jeans and unzip them. “I say we take a break and get in a quick dip before we continue this afternoon.”

His eyes follow my hands, and he swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing. Thankfully Nacho, who’s been driving the conversation all morning, follows suit, dropping his shorts to reveal a very tight pair of boxer briefs. Bram’s eyes are glued to his boyfriend’s ass as he drops his shorts as well.

Ant’s eyes dart between me and Levy, a crooked smile crossing his lips. Pretty soon, he’s down to some surprisingly bright lime-green briefs.

“Great!” Nacho jokes. “Now I’m blind.”

“Shut up,” Ant grumbles.

He bites his lower lip and looks over at Levy. “It’s not that deep, right?”

“It comes up to my chest in the middle if it’s been raining,” Levy says. “The current can get a little fast, but it’s pretty calm this morning.”

Ant’s bravery disappears, and he scratches his chest absentmindedly. “Oh, I don’t know how to swim.”

One of my fondest memories is teaching my nephew Gael how to swim. We had so much fun that day, laughing and splashing. He was maybe twelve, but still such a little boy. By then, I had stopped avoiding my family and was trying to be a more active participant in between my trips into hell. Ant never had anybody to show him how to swim. The realization makes my heart ache.

I hold up my hand. “No time like the present. Let’s get in the water.”

I raise my chin at Levy. “Are you going to join us, or…?”

Levy rubs his inked belly, self-conscious, then takes down his shorts. Aye, Dios mio—he’s adorable. Thankfully, Ant’s anxiety disappears when he spots Levy’s beaver-themed boxers.

“Are you seriously wearing Buc-ee’s boxers?” Ant asks, pointing and laughing.

Levy scrunches up his face, taking the joke in stride. “I’m a proud Texan. Shut up.”

Everyone else cracks up, and I send Ant a confused look. He explains that Buc-ee’s is a world-famous chain of ridiculously huge gas stations in Texas. Clearly, I need to get out more.

Even in gas station boxers, he’s so fucking sexy I have to fist my hands at my sides. I want nothing more than to take him into my arms and rub my palms over his adorable bit of belly. I imagine his strong thighs straddling me as he rides me, my cock buried in his perfect, round ass.

Fuck. Pay attention. Now would be a very bad time to develop a boner.

We all take off our shoes and walk down the well-maintained path to the water.

“Did you do this?” Nacho asks Levy, gesturing to the manicured trail.

“Yeah. I stayed out here a few times before I had water or electricity,” he says, pointing to an electrical pole on the fence line and the wire running from it to his trailer. “Which meant I had some time on my hands. I like getting in the water first thing in the morning and figured I didn’t want to have to think about shoes or anything like that.”

Nacho elbows him lightly. “Do you even bother with clothes?”

Levy shrugs, flicking a glance at me. “I don’t sleep in clothes, so…no.”

“Duly noted. Don’t come down here early in the morning.”

“Damn right,” I mutter.

Nacho turns to me. “What?”

Shaking my head, I answer as innocently as possible, “Oh, I didn’t say anything.”

He squints his eyes at me, then looks to Levy with a troublemaker grin.

“Don’t,” I warn him.

“I won’t. I’m just over here, minding my own damn business,” he whispers back, practically laughing at me.

“Shut it.”

Nacho mimes zipping his lips shut, and we walk into the water.

“Shit, this is a spring,” Bram says as he gingerly walks toward the middle.

He’s not as heavily tattooed as Levy or Nacho, but he’s impressively built and stoic in a way that reminds me of Superman. Nacho shivers as he enters the water and plasters himself to Bram, hugging him close. Amusement tips Bram’s lips, and he returns the hug, kissing Nacho’s forehead.

Bram doesn’t strike me as someone who would enjoy overt public affection, so he must be both deeply in love with Nacho and very comfortable with us.

Ant, in the meantime, stays near the shore, the water barely up to his ankles. I hold out my hand to him, and he takes it, stepping carefully into the deeper water.

“Shit, this is so fucking cold,” he curses in Spanish. “If I survived all that shit to die of hypothermia, I am going to be so pissed.”

Laughing at the dark humor, I give my nephew a side hug, rubbing some warmth back into his arms as we stand in the gentle current.

“I promise you’ll love the water as soon as you know how to swim in it.”

As I say this, Nacho flips to his back and floats by with a serene expression.

Pointing at his friend, Ant asks, “Can I just do that?”

“Of course. You’ll start off by learning how to float, but swimming isn’t much more difficult. Promise.”

Ant bites his lower lip, then nods, some of his bravery returning.

“What I’m going to do is turn you on your back and support you in the water. Sound good?”

He takes a deep breath and nods. “Yes.”

Moving slowly, aware of Levy’s eyes on me, I gently flip Ant face up. He immediately flails, his eyes wild as he grabs my arm, practically cutting off the circulation.

Levy steps in, cradling the back of Ant’s head in his hand. Ant darts a look up at Levy, who smiles reassuringly.

“Your uncle is not going to let you drown, buddy.”

Ant scrunches his nose, but the tension lessens in his grip. Carefully, I lower him a bit more into the water, biting back tears as his narrow chest rises and lowers rapidly. He squeezes my arm again until finally, finally…he gets it.

“See, sobrino. Floating is just letting the water hold you.”

The wrinkle between his brows gives way to uncertainty, then joy. It fills my chest with such emotion that I can’t hold back the tears.

“Are you crying?” he jokes, splashing me as he wobbles, then stands.

“Yes. So?”

“I don’t know what the big deal is,” he says, wiping beads of water off his narrow shoulders. “Floating is super easy.”

Nacho snorts in the background, and Ant shoots him the finger, which makes everyone laugh.

Laughing along, he wraps himself around my side. “Thank you for showing me how to float.”

I exchange a look with Levy and Bram, who both have their hands to their hearts. Being saved from human traffickers is a big thing. Huge. But they know these small victories move the needle from surviving to living. Thriving while surrounded by people who love him dearly.

Clearing my throat, I hug him back. “We’ve got to get back to the deck, but I’ll show you how to swim soon, okay?”

He nods, and we all rise out of the water. Levy is truly adorable with his boxers spackled to his body. I hate that he’s so self-conscious, so I hang back as the others make their way to the house.

Putting my hand on his back, I lean in and whisper, “You are the sexiest guy out here.”

He snorts in disbelief and pushes me away, but I don’t let him. Stepping closer, I wrap my arms around him, gripping his wet hips as I nose the reddened edge of his ear.

“I’m not lying. The things I want to do to you are obscene. Illegal in two dozen countries.”

Levy shivers as I let him go but doesn’t throw the rules in my face. I’ll take it as progress.

We all put our shorts back on and get to most of the deck in the back. It’s a simple setup, but the combination of the teakwood deck, shiny stainless-steel Airstream, and heavily wooded surroundings lends a mystical quality to the space.

I’d love to christen these decks properly, but I promised Ant I’d join him for dinner at a friend’s house later tonight. I need to wash up and nap before then, so fucking Levy on this beautiful deck and then holding him in my arms while we sleep under the stars will have to wait for later.

I laugh, realizing how much I’ve played myself. Let him come to you. Right. I didn’t just imagine fucking him. I imagined holding him.

Snuggling, for fuck’s sake.

Again.

He’s in every corner of my mind, and if my history is any indication, I should absolutely be freaking out. At a minimum, I should be making plans to get as far away from him as possible instead of what I am doing—trying to convince myself I need to maintain a respectful distance at this dinner tonight.

And not, you know, mauling him in front of strangers.

Running my hands over my face to drag me out of fantasy land, I wave to Ant as he heads out with Bram and Nacho. He waves back with a small smile on his face.

I linger for a few moments by my truck as Levy puts away his tools.

“Thank you so much for all your help today,” Levy says, hugging my side.

He smells like hard work and creek water, which should be a turn-off. Only…my heart is thumping hard, and I’m wondering if it would be rude to put off this Sunday dinner everyone seems to love so much.

My hand automatically goes to his bare belly, and I run my nose up his neck, loving his little shiver. Loving even more that he doesn’t pull away.

Couldn’t avoid him if I tried.

“When are you putting up the misting system?” I ask, kissing his temple.

“I, uh…tomorrow.”

“Excellent. I’ll be here bright and early.”

He offers no argument but pulls away from me. Our bare skin makes a sticky sound as we part, a protest if ever I heard one. Smiling and appearing a little nervous, Levy grabs his T-shirt and walks into his trailer, sending me a bashful wave before closing the door.

I consider walking up to that door and letting myself in. Instead, I curse myself and get into my banged-up truck. Pulling out my phone, I send my sister a text.

Me: I might be in some kind of trouble up here.

Yaya: Are you in danger?

Me: Yes. I’m falling for one of the guys who works at the ranch.

Yaya: Let me guess: the tattooed therapist.

Me: Ugh, yes. It’s a tragedy.

Yaya: How dramatic. Does he at least have a good ass?

Me: Of course.

Yaya: Then maybe it’s time.

Me: This is not helpful.

Yaya: <heart emoji>

Not helpful at all.