by Lynn Lorenz
Rush had stood, wiped the blood from his mouth, and said, “Yes, sir.” He’d picked up his hat, brushed off the seat of his jeans, and climbed back on his horse.
“Thank sweet Jesus I still have Robbie.” With those words, his father had mounted and galloped off, leaving Rush understanding exactly where he’d stood.
And as long as his father had lived, Rush had never again spoken of his unnatural nature nor acted on it.
* * * *
“Lunch was great, Sammi. If you’re not careful, Mitchell, you’re going to wind up fat.” Brian laughed.
“I’ve told him that, but he just makes me work out harder at the gym. His regimen is brutal.” Mitchell shook his head but gazed lovingly at Sammi sitting across the table from him.
“Admit it, Mitch. You love when I work you hard.” Sammi winked.
Brian knew something had passed between them because Mitchell blushed.
“Hey, let’s not go there,” Mitchell said.
“Please. TMI, guys.” Brian held up his hands. “I don’t want to know. Really.”
Sammi sobered and asked, “So, what is the news?” His fists clenched on the tabletop. Mitchell reached out and covered the fist with his hand. Sammi relaxed, turned his palm up, and their fingers interlocked.
“First, this is your deal, Sammi. If you don’t want Mitchell to hear any of this, say so now.” Brian peered into his eyes, almost hidden behind a long swath of black bangs.
“I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for Mitchell. And you. He’s been my support, and without him, I’d have never believed I could be anything more than a whore.” He raised Mitchell’s hand to his lips and kissed it. “He stays.”
“Good.” Brian gave a short nod and a wink at Mitchell. “I found your records. Everything.” He pulled a piece of folded paper from his shirt pocket and slid it across the table to Sammi.
Sammi’s Adam’s apple bobbed and his gaze darted to Mitchell’s.
“Go on, babe. Open it. The future awaits,” Mitchell whispered and let go of Sammi’s hand.
Sammi opened it, read it, then handed it to Mitchell. “It’s all there, Mitch. Even my name.”
Mitchell scanned it and glanced up. “This is great, babe. You can get your birth certificate and social security. You’re Mr. Samuel Waters, now.”
“My driver’s license! I can’t wait!” Sammi bounced in his seat. “Can I finally drive the Jetta?”
“Yep.” Brian grinned at him.
“Can I get a credit card?” Sammi asked, tears pooling in his dark eyes.
“If you want one. But I think a bank account should come first.” Mitchell grinned.
“He just gets tired of me stashing my pay in the dresser,” Sammi shot back as he reached for a napkin to wipe the tears from his eyes.
Mitchell laughed. Sammi got up, came around the table, and threw his arms around Brian. Then he leaned down and kissed him on the cheek.
Brian felt the heat rise in his face, but he returned the hug. “I’m glad for you, Sammi.”
Sammi straightened. “Now”—he sniffed—“how much do I owe you?”
Brian produced another folded paper. “Here’s my bill. Ninety days, same as cash.”
Sammi opened it, read it, then dashed off.
“Where’s he going?” Brian asked Mitchell.
“He wasn’t joking about the money in the drawer. He’s got it laid out nice and neat, as if he were a bank teller. My socks had to find a home in a basket in the closet.” Mitchell shrugged.
Sammi returned, laid two hundred-dollar bills and two twenties on the table, and said, “I hope you don’t mind large bills?”
“Nope. Spends the same as small.” Brian gathered the money and placed it into his wallet. “We’re settled. Give me the bill, and I’ll mark it paid in full.”
Transaction complete, Sammi opened the refrigerator and grabbed the dessert.
“Chocolate mousse.”
“Don’t forget the whipped cream, babe.” Mitchell licked his lips as Sammi placed a tall dessert glass in front of each of their seats and added a dollop of cream on top of the rich chocolate.
“Oh, man. I can see the gym in your future, my friend.” Brian picked up his spoon and dug in. “Mine, too.”
Brian’s phone chirped but he made no move to answer it.
“Aren’t you going to get that?” Mitchell asked, pointing with his spoon at the phone clipped to Brian’s belt.
“Nope. I know who it is.”
“Who?” Sammi asked.
“Rush.” Brian dropped his eyes to his dessert.
“Your cowboy?” Sammi sat up.
“He’s not my cowboy anymore. Didn’t Mitchell tell you?”
“He told me.” Sammi’s eyes narrowed as he stared at Brian. “He’s still yours. In your heart.”
Brian glanced up and met his gaze. “Damn. I keep forgetting you can hear my thoughts.” He shook his head.
“And your feelings. Not as clearly as I hear Mitchell, of course.”
“He’s right, isn’t he?” Mitchell watched Brian, the look of disappointment on his face making Brian self-conscious.
“I know I should hate him for what he did. I know it. Really I do, but…” Brian shrugged and shoved another bite of mousse into his mouth.
“You want him.” Sammi’s simple words summed it all up.
“How long are you going to let Rush twist in the wind?” Mitchell finished his dessert, stood, and put the dish in the sink. He began rinsing the lunch plates and silverware and loading the dishwasher.
“Forever.” Brian handed Mitchell his empty glass.
“But he’s the one.” Sammi frowned and reached for Brian’s hand. At his touch, Brian felt a wave of hope pass through him, sent by Sammi. Damn, but he had some awesome powers. They made his appear small in comparison. He wouldn’t mind trading for a while. He could feel thoughts and feelings of his lover and Sammi could have the freaky hunches.
“I had a…well, I think it was a dream, but it felt just like one of my hunches. Only I’ve never had one come to me while I was asleep.”
“That must mean it’s really important.” Sammi leaned his hip against the counter and stared at Brian.
“So spill it.” Mitchell stopped washing dishes.
“There were two. In the first one, I was sitting on a porch swing with Rush. I think it must have been his ranch. We were just sitting. Enjoying the view. His arm was around my shoulders. I felt at peace. Like I belonged there.”
“That’s good,” Sammi encouraged him. “Then what?”
“It all changed. It was night. I was lying on the ground somewhere. It was cold, and I was really scared, but I couldn’t move. It was like I was paralyzed.”
“Creepy.” Mitchell grimaced.
“The creepy part was that Rush was standing there pointing a rifle at me. The rifle went off, and I woke up.” He shrugged. “That’s it.”
“Goddamn, Brian. What does it mean?” Mitchell whispered.
“That Rush is going to shoot me?” Brian shrugged.
“That can’t be. You love him.” Sammi shook his head, sending his bangs swinging.
Mitchell ran his hand over his face. “You’ve only been talking to this guy for a short time and now you’re in love?”
“Maybe.” Brian shrugged. “No.” He rolled his eyes. “Maybe.”
“Christ. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’m a big boy. I’ve had my heart broken before. I’ll live.”
Sammi leaned forward. “But…he loves you.”
“How do you know he loves me?” Brian growled. “He’s never said how he feels about me, other than I turn him on.”
Sammi looked at Mitchell.
“I don’t care what you feel, Brian. Stay away from that fucking cowboy. Your life may depend on it. We both know your hunches are never wrong.” Mitchell’s face was fierce, and Brian’s hackles rose at Mitchell’s tone.
“Going to protect me? Save me from myself?” Brian�
��s hands curled into tight fists as he faced off with his best friend.
“Well, someone has to,” Mitchell replied.
“You forget I carry a gun?” Brian cocked his head to the side.
“Where was your gun in that dream? That bastard is going to try to kill you.” Mitchell glared at Brian, as angry and hard as his words.
Brian, ready to defend the man he loved, opened his mouth. All right. He’d said it, even if it had been only to himself. Maybe he did love Rush. And he couldn’t believe that Rush would ever try to kill him. Shutting his mouth, he swallowed the words he was about to say.
Sammi swooped in, wrapping his arms around his lover’s chest. “Mitch. Sweetheart. You need to let Brian handle this.” He kissed Mitchell’s throat, nipped at his ear in a blatant attempt to defuse the situation.
As Brian watched, Mitchell seemed to melt under the younger man’s kisses. Shit, if anyone was doing that to him, he’d melt, too. There was no telling what Sammi was telling Mitchell right now. Knowing the two of them and their inability to keep their hands off each other, Brian was sure it had to do with sex.
Mitchell relaxed and pulled Sammi in for a kiss. Mitchell moaned, and Sammi opened his mouth as the men deepened their kiss.
“All right. That’s it. I’m leaving.” Brian chuckled.
The lovers broke apart and grinned at him. “Sorry.” Mitchell shrugged.
“No, you’re not. I better get out of here before the clothes start coming off.” He walked to the front door, opened it and gave the guys a loose salute. “Later.”
“Later,” they called.
Just as Sammi jumped into Mitchell’s arms and the two lovers slid to the floor, Brian shut the door.
His cock had hardened just watching them. Brian wanted to go home and jerk off. Shit, it was the middle of the day, and he’d planned to spend the rest of the afternoon doing yard work.
God, he missed Rush. Even though they’d only spoken on the phone a few times, he missed the phone calls. And now that they’d finally been together, in the hot, aching flesh, he would miss their incredible sex.
Mitchell might be right. He might have fallen for Rush too fast and too hard. Put his heart out on the line for a man he didn’t really know much about, except how much Rush turned him on and made him long for more.
How could he be so wrong about Rush and the kind of man he was?
No. No fucking way.
He could believe Rush was scared. Believe Rush feared leaving the safety of his closet on the ranch.
But nothing would ever make him believe Rush was a danger to him.
Chapter Ten
The next week dragged by for Brian. Each day around two p.m., Rush phoned. On Wednesday, Brian waited in his office for the call. It was crazy, but he’d come to think of the unanswered call as sort of a love letter between them.
It told Brian, “I still care.”
Brian’s refusal to answer told Rush, “I’m still hurt.”
His phone went off and startled him from his thoughts. It was Rush. The corners of Brian’s lips turned up as he stared at the display. The phone seemed to chirp in perfect rhythm with the beating of his heart. Then, the most amazing thing happened. The message symbol popped up on the screen. Brian’s heart pumped in quick time.
Rush had left a voice mail. He’d never done that before.
Brian stared at his phone. Maybe it was important. Maybe Rush had been hurt and was lying in some hospital. Maybe he needed Brian.
After scooping up the phone, Brian brought the message up and hit Play.
“Darlin’.” A sigh. “I’m so sorry.”
Brian replayed it, just to hear the cowboy’s voice. Even on a message, it sent shivers of desire through him. Fuck, he was addicted to Rush’s voice.
He played it again, hanging on every syllable, every nuance. Taking in that soft sigh. Was Rush smoking? Brian listened to the emphasis on the word so.
Carefully, he saved the message and closed the phone.
* * * *
Rush pushed his hat back and turned his face to the sun. He’d done it. He’d left a message. Once he’d decided to do it, it had taken him the better part of the day to figure out just what he would say. He’d changed it about a hundred times until he’d gotten it just right. Then he’d practiced it, mumbling it under his breath as he’d ridden the fence. The two hired hands with him had kept looking at him as if he were crazy.
They stared at him now. He didn’t care. Tomorrow, he’d leave another message. He’d always hung up before it rolled to the message. Brian wasn’t blocking his calls after all. He might still be hurt, but he hadn’t written Rush off completely.
Maybe, just maybe, he still had a chance.
* * * *
On Thursday, Rush leaned on the fence railing as three buyers looked over a selection of bred heifers. Aware that two p.m. was approaching, he fought the urge to rush them so he could make his call. Every sale was important to the ranch.
“What about those three?” one of the men asked the older buyer. Jim Bower, a longtime customer of the Double T, was shopping for a few heifers to improve his own herd and he’d brought two men, his foreman and Jim Jr.
“I’m not sure about the one on the left,” Junior put in.
Rush didn’t think Junior knew much about cattle from what he’d seen, but he kept his mouth shut and watched the senior Bower.
Mr. Bower squinted at the heifer in question. “She’ll do, Jimmy. I’ll take the three, Mr. Weston.”
“Right.” He called to the man inside the pen. “Manuel, cut those three out for Mr. Bower.” Turning to Bower, he said, “Sir, it was a pleasure doing business with you, as always.” Rush shook hands with the older gentleman, then with the son.
While Manuel separated the cattle and herded them to the chute to load into Bower’s trailer, Rush walked a few yards away and pulled out his phone.
A quick push of the buttons, and Brian’s number rang. Rush’s heart beat like a hammer against the walls of his chest. Today, he’d leave another message, and he’d thought all morning about what it would be. He wasn’t much on sweet talk, but he could at least put his feelings into a few simple words.
He listened to the message. The familiar generic female voice told him he’d reached the number and that no one was available, but since his call was important, he could leave a message after the tone. God, he wished that Brian had recorded his own message so he could hear Brian’s voice whenever he needed to.
“Miss you, darlin’,” Rush said then closed his phone and put it back into the pocket of his jeans. He rejoined the group of men and watched as the cattle were loaded. Bower Sr. came over to him, shook his hand once more, and handed him a check for the cattle.
Rush folded it and put it in his shirt pocket. As Bower walked away, Rush wondered if the older man would do business with a gay man. The rancher looked like he was cut from the same narrowly woven cloth as his father.
Coming out might be business suicide. It didn’t make any sense to Rush.
And without someone like Brian beside him, what was the point?
Excuses. Just excuses to keep the status quo.
Nothing had changed.
He was still a coward.
* * * *
Brian held the phone to his ear, closed his eyes and listened to Rush’s message.
“Miss you, darlin’.”
Short and so sweet. He played it again, sighed, then saved it.
“Miss you, too, cowboy,” Brian said.
Shit. He really must be in love.
Brian grinned then put his phone on his belt and went back to work on his computer.
* * * *
Brian sat at his kitchen table eating a salad for dinner when the phone rang.
“Brian? It’s Sammi.”
“Hey, Sammi. How’s it going?” Brian took a sip of coffee from a mug that said, A Hard Man is Good to Find.
“Just great. I was wondering if I could hire you again.”
Brian straightened and put his mug down. “I’m here if you need me, you know that. What’s the problem?”
There was a silence, then Sammi whispered, “I want to find my family.”
Brian had wondered how long Sammi would take to get to this place. He knew just knowing his name wouldn’t be enough for him. “Well, it may take some time, but I’m sure I can locate someone.” Brian didn’t want to say that he thought Sammi’s mother had died those years ago, and in her state of mind, it was quite probable.
“Good. Do you have enough info to get started?” Sammi’s voice was a breathy whisper.
“Sammi, why are you whispering? Does Mitchell know about this?”
“Yeah. He doesn’t want me to look for them. He says I’ll just get hurt.”
“He’s probably right. But if it’s what you want, you should do it.”
“Same rate as before?”
“That’s right. I can’t promise you much, Sammi. And, even if I do find your family, I’m going to have to ask them if they want to see you, you understand?”
“But I’m hiring you.”
“Yes, but they have rights, too. And one of them is to decide whether or not they want to meet you. I’m afraid Mitchell might be right.”
“I know. He’s just trying to protect me.”
“He loves you. It’s only natural.” Brian chuckled. “And, if I remember correctly, you’re nothing but trouble.”
“That’s the story of my life.” Sammi laughed. “Okay. See what you can find and if they want to meet me. I’ll have to settle for that.”
“Good.”
“Now, when are you meeting Rush again?” Sammi asked out of nowhere, knocking Brian off center.
“I’m not planning on meeting him.”
“Well, you should. You love him. He loves you. Just work it out.”
