by Lynn Lorenz
“Well, I’m looking for a man.”
“Aren’t we all, honey, aren’t we all. Don’t have no men here, just kids. Did you check the bars?” She laughed loudly at her joke.
“Har-dee-har-har,” Brian retorted. “You’re a card, Sheila, a card. No, he would have been in the system about eight or nine years ago. He ran away from his foster home at sixteen and fell off the grid. I have the name of his last foster parents, but I’ve searched for them and it looks like they’re not in the Houston area anymore.” They could be anywhere in the U.S. and the Internet search had come up empty. It was just the first of many dead ends Brian was sure he’d hit on this case.
She turned back to her computer, all business. “Let’s see what I can find. Not promising anything, though. Our current records only go about five years back, anything more than that, and it’s probably been archived.”
“Give it a try, anyway. Maybe we’ll be lucky.”
“What’s this ‘we’? Maybe you’ll get lucky.”
“I need some luck, that’s for sure.”
“You got a name for the kid?”
“Just a first name—Sammi. Possibly Samuel.”
“Social security number?”
“Nope. I got nothing, Sheila.” He shook his head and gave her his best ‘poor me’ look.
“Naturally.” She let out the sigh of the long-suffering government worker. Brian wondered if they had to master it to be hired on as civil servants or if there was a training course.
She typed. Brian waited. She shook her head and typed again. Brian leaned closer to watch the screen. With a soft muttered word or two not used by Christian women, she turned to him.
“Sorry, sugar. My records only go back five years.”
“What about the foster parents? Their name is Ranks, Don and Jan.”
Again, her long nails clacked over the keyboard. They waited. She sat back and shook her head. “No one by that name in the system.”
It figured. Nothing about Sammi had been easy, except how Mitchell had fallen in love with him. Sammi was sexy as hell and nothing but trouble.
“How do I get to the archives?” He had no choice but to do this the hard way. Hours of research stacked up in his imagination.
“Well, you take U.S. Highway 290 and head straight up to Austin.”
“Austin?” Brian’s shoulders slumped. Not that he minded the drive, but navigating the capital city’s red tape was a pain in the ass.
“That’s right. You can go up there, or fill in some forms here and wait a month or so.” She reached into a stack of yellow forms. “You want one?”
“No.” Brian sighed. “It’s Austin, I guess.”
“The old records are pulled off the system, then they’re either put on microfiche or optical scanners, depending on what they used at the time. Might even be on the new servers we use for backup now, I’m not sure. You can request the records and view them at our office near the capitol building.”
“Have you got a name for me in Austin? Someone who might help me once I get up there?” Brian gave her his best smile.
She laughed at his attempt. “Boy, don’t be giving me that sexy grin of yours, flashing those dimples. It may work on your boyfriends, but it won’t work on me.”
Brian added a wink.
“Aw, now I hate it when you do that. Makes me get all weak-kneed and woozy.” Her sarcastic tone wasn’t lost on him, and she looked neither weak-kneed nor woozy. She picked up a card, turned it over and wrote a name down. “When you get there, ask for Roberta. Tell her I sent you. She’ll help you find your man.”
“Thanks, Sheila, you’re a dream. If I was straight…” He gave her a kiss on her mahogany cheek and took the card from her.
“Honey, that’s what they all say.” She shook her head and went back to her typing.
Brian left. It was already mid-afternoon, and it would take three hours to get to Austin. He’d just have to drive to the capital first thing in the morning. Wanting to let Sammi know about his progress, he flipped open his cell phone, found Sammi’s number and hit Dial. Since Brian was now being paid for his time, even at a highly reduced rate, Sammi should decide if it was worth it to make the trip.
Sammi answered after a few rings, “Hello? This is Sammi.” Brian could hear the clatter of pots, pans and other cooking utensils in the background.
“It’s Brian. Can you talk?”
“Sure, hold on.” Sammi said something to someone, probably Otis, the old cook he worked for, then, after a moment, things quieted. “I’m back. What’s up?”
“Well, I struck out at CPS, but I really didn’t think I’d learn much there. Seems all the data from when you were in the system has been archived and the fastest way to get it is to go to Austin. I could fill out a form and wait for a month or so, but this way we’ll know pretty quick.”
“Austin?” Brian could hear Sammi’s hesitation. “How long will that take?” Twenty bucks an hour was a lot of money for him, who only made six bucks an hour working in the kitchen as a prep cook.
“Three hours up and back, plus the time it takes once I’m there to look through the documents.”
Silence as Sammi probably calculated how much that would cost him. Brian was sure it would never occur to him to ask Mitchell for the money. Mitchell loved Sammi and would give it to him in a heartbeat, but Sammi was fiercely independent, refusing to be beholden to anyone, and that included finances.
“All right. I need to know as soon as possible. Without that info, I can’t even take the GED test, much less think about college.” He heard Sammi take a deep breath. “Thanks, Brian. Really, thanks for everything.” His smile could be felt even through the phone line.
Grinning, Brian hung up. This was the part of his job he loved, doing something for others, helping them. It was why he’d always wanted to be a cop, and why he’d given up working as an engineer to become a private investigator.
He hoped whatever he found out in Austin would lead to discovering who Sammi really was, and perhaps reuniting him with his family, if he had any.
* * * *
Brian stepped out of the shower and heard the phone ringing.
“Crap!” He propelled himself around the shower door, slipped on the tiles, caught himself on the counter before he went down and dashed into his bedroom.
His cell phone sat on his bedside table, chirping its urgency. Naked and soaking wet, he launched himself into the air and dove over the bed. As he skimmed the bedspread, he grabbed the phone and slid right off the other side, landing with a hard smack on the wood floor in the jumble of bedspread, sheets and pillows that followed in his wake.
Flipping the phone open, he gasped, “Hello?” He could hear his own harsh breathing echoing back in his ear. Shit. How desperate did that sound?
“Brian? Are you all right? Did I catch you at a bad time?” Rush’s deep voice shot through him.
All thoughts of his embarrassment faded as the blood from his head rushed south. “Just got out of the shower. I didn’t hear the phone.” He got control of his breathing and laughed. “I’m lying on the floor wrapped up in my sheets.”
“Hot damn, darlin’, I’ll bet that’s a glorious sight to see,” Rush drawled.
“I slid across the bed to grab the phone. Guess doing that wet doesn’t work.”
“Let me get this straight. You’re soaking wet, wrapped in sheets and lying on the floor?”
“Yeah.”
“Can you stay that way until I get there?” Rush chuckled.
“Are you serious? Are you coming to town?” Brian tried not to let his excitement show, but damned if he didn’t get hard just thinking about seeing Rush.
There was a long pause, during which Brian’s stomach rolled and his hopes fell. Then Rush sighed. “There’s nothing I’d like more than to see you right now, but I can’t.”
“Right.” Brian ran his hand through his still damp hair then he gave a nervous laugh. “You shouldn’t tease me like that, get m
e all hard then let me down.”
“Are you hard? ’Cause, darlin’, I’ve been hard all day thinking about you. My dick’s so thick it could drive nails,” Rush rumbled, and Brian’s balls tightened.
Damn it, the cowboy knew he made Brian hard talking like that.
“Forget the nails. Would it drive my ass?” Brian realized he’d been stroking his cock since they’d started talking.
“Fuck, yeah. I’d love to drive it into your sweet hole,” Rush rasped.
Brian could hear the big cowboy’s breathing hitch. Brian’s eyes shuttered at the thought of Rush fucking him. Of all that power, or Rush handling him, dominating his body.
“Are you naked?” Brian whispered as he lay back on the floor, shoving a pillow under his head. No sense in getting up, he could jack off right here. He reached up and pulled down the lube from his side table then spread a generous amount on his hand.
“Yeah, naked, long and hard. Just for you, darlin’. I’m stroking my prick, picturing you wrapped in those sheets like a present just for me to open.”
“Is it your birthday?” Brian slid his slick hand over his engorged shaft while he rubbed the head with his thumb.
“No, not until July.”
“Well, it’s not Christmas.”
“Hell, it’s got to be some holiday, somewhere.”
“How would you unwrap me?” Brian squeezed the tip of his cock and a drop of pre-cum pearled. He watched as it dripped down the side of his shaft and he let the erotic feeling wash over him.
“Hmm, now that’s a poser. If I go slow, layer by layer, there’s a wonderful buildup of anticipation, isn’t there?”
“Yeah, slow is good.” Brian slowed his stokes to match the mood.
“But if I just grab those sheets and rip them off you, that’s hot, too.”
“So hot, Rush, so hot.” He pistoned his rough hand and the heated friction over the tender skin of his cock was delicious.
“Which would you prefer?”
“What would you really do?” Brian prayed it was hard and rough, because that’s how he’d dreamed Rush would take him.
“Fuck, darlin’, I want you so bad I don’t think I could wait. I’d rip those sheets off, climb on top of you and ride your ass until we both screamed.”
Brian groaned, working his dick like a dynamo, his eyes shutting out everything around him, until it was just him, Rush, their raspy breathing, their pumping hands and their throbbing cocks.
“Need you, Rush. So bad,” Brian moaned into the phone.
“Want you, too. It hurts, I want you so bad.”
“Want to suck you. Want to suck the jism right out of your cock.” Brian felt the pre-cum build, the rising of his balls in eagerness of his coming. “Want to taste you in my mouth when you explode.”
“Fuck, I can’t last, just thinking of your lips on my dick, your eyes looking up at me. Here it comes, darlin’.” Rush groaned. There was no mistaking that Rush had shot his load and that sent Brian over the edge.
Brian cursed into the phone, his hot cream rhythmically splattered across his taut belly. “I’m milking the last of it, Rush, wishing you could lick me clean.” He smeared his cum all over his shaft, rubbing it into the swollen head as he came down from his high.
“I’ll just bet you’re delicious, musky and salty. Damn, I want you.” Rush exhaled long and slow.
Soft, deep breathing. Brian gave a sigh of completion.
“This is crazy, Rush. I want to see you.”
“I could come this weekend. Maybe Friday night after the ranch shuts down.”
“We could hang out at my place, maybe get some dinner. That is, if we hit it off.” Brian hoped he didn’t sound too needy.
“Hit it off? I don’t think there’s any doubt about that, do you?”
“No, not really. Just giving you an out.”
“You’re a generous man.”
Brian paused. “Are you sure you want to come?”
“I’ll be there. Give me the time and directions.”
Brian gave him the information.
“I’ll see you then,” Rush drawled, as if they’d just set up a fishing date, not to meet and make their phone fantasies come true.
“Can’t wait.” Brian hung up.
He untangled himself from the covers and headed back to the bathroom. He was so excited about seeing Rush on Friday that he had to jerk off again in the shower.
Shit. This guy had him acting like he was a horny teenager, getting hard at the drop of a dime and whacking off every chance he could get.
Friday could not get here fast enough.
Chapter Five
Brian left at eight a.m. for Austin and arrived at just after eleven. After searching for a place to park, then once there, being sent from one department to another, he finally found Roberta in the archive section. Technically, he found her cubicle. It was her lunch hour, and he had to wait until she returned. He sat on the chair next to her desk and tried to keep his knee from bouncing.
Sometime after one p.m., she appeared. Roberta Banks was a tall, middle-aged woman with a mass of dyed-blonde hair piled to dizzying heights atop her head. Being an engineer, he marveled at the construction of the permed pyramid and found it hard to drag his eyes from it. The amount of Aqua Net involved must have been near the legal limit for emissions.
Roberta cleared her throat and brought him back to his mission. He introduced himself and she took her seat, rolled up to her desk and put her lunch bag away in a bottom drawer.
“Sheila called and told me you’d be coming. I must admit, you’re going to have a hard time tracking this man down with only a first name.”
“Well, he would have been reported as a runaway. Does that help?”
“It might, if we kept that kind of record separate from the files.” She sat behind a computer terminal and began clacking on the keyboard. Like Sheila’s, her nails were long but painted a deep red. Possibly another requirement of civil service, along with the long-suffering sigh.
Brian waited, this time grateful for a chair to sit on because his feet ached. He should have known that he’d have to wander the halls endlessly and should have worn his running shoes instead of his boots. Where was a hunch when he needed it?
“I’m coming up with a list of children who were pulled from the system that year. These could be kids that ran away, died, or were adopted.” She tapped again on the keyboard. “I’m sorting the list by names.”
Brain leaned forward and craned his neck around her monitor. A list of names appeared in a spreadsheet. “There are so many.” No way could he get through all those by closing time today.
“This is statewide.”
“He was in Houston, Harris County.” Brian hadn’t gotten much information from Sammi when he’d questioned him, but he had gotten the year he’d run away and where he’d been living.
“I’ll sort by the county and then delete the rest.” She worked again on the list, eating into more of his time.
Brian watched as the list shrank, but it was still long. “There must be two dozen names on that list. Are they all Sams?”
“Yes, sir. Either first, middle or last. I didn’t want to take a chance and make assumptions, so I included all possibilities.”
“That’s a good idea. Thanks, Roberta,” Brian replied. He hadn’t thought that Sammi might be a middle or last name.
She sat back. “Okay, I’ve got a final list. Twenty-one candidates, all who fell out of the system for one reason or the other, all with Sam in their names, all living in Harris County.” She hit a button and the printer next to her desk came to life.
Two sheets of white paper, holding Sammi’s hopes, slid from the machine.
Brian took them from Roberta and scanned them. “What are these?” He pointed to a string of numbers along the side of each name.
“That’s their identification code. They match the case numbers. You’ll have to use that to hunt down their records.”
Brian gl
anced at his watch. The place closed at five p.m., and it was already after two. “That doesn’t give me much time. Where do I start?” He stood and placed the papers in his portfolio.
“Well, that was nine years ago. Sorry, but I’m afraid you’ll have to start with microfiche. That’s down in the basement.” She gave him a rueful smile and a shrug.
“Roberta, I can’t thank you enough.” He passed her his business card. “If you ever need help, call me.”
She stared down at the card, nodded then placed it in a drawer. “You’re welcome, Mr. Russell. Anything for a friend of Sheila’s.”
Brian left, headed to the elevators and down to the basement.
* * * *
All day as Rush went about his chores, he had a growing sense of uncertainty. He hadn’t intended to go farther with Brian than the phone sex. Fuck, the guy turned him on like no one ever had, and sure, he wasn’t getting any younger, but damn it, he was fooling himself to think he could have a life with a man.
Not around here, anyway.
As he sat on his horse, looking down from the pasture to the large white house below, he knew he would never leave the ranch. The Double T was his home, his family’s homestead for over one hundred and twenty years, and he’d be damned if it went under on his watch.
Spring Lake was a small town, and Rush was sure they’d never seen a gay man, much less a gay cowboy. He’d spent the last fifteen years hiding who and what he was from everyone in Spring Lake. How would it affect his reputation and his business if he came out? Without selling his livestock, the ranch would go broke in no time.
And what about Brian? They lived worlds apart. Brian’s life was in Houston, his business as an investigator, his friends, probably his family. It would be the height of arrogance to think Brian would give all that up for him. Especially when Rush knew he wouldn’t give up the ranch for Brian.
No matter how bad he wanted a life with someone.
Rush clicked his tongue and the horse started off, heading down toward the barn. The hands were finishing the work on the fence and didn’t need him to oversee them. Tonight, he’d call Brian and tell him something came up, that he couldn’t make it.
