“I’m sorry you got hurt. I’m glad you had a home to come to.”
“Me too. Thank you all for accepting me.” He pulled out a waffle. “Tada! How about the first one to Uncle Seth?”
“I think maybe Wiley,” she whispered. “He’s had the worst day.”
“Oh, good idea. Go ahead.” He nodded, handing her the plate. There were no sprinkles, but it wasn’t a birthday, was it?
“Thanks.” She grinned at him, and he felt like he’d done something right. Finally.
Wiley glanced up when she set down the waffle. “Wow. Cool. Thank you, Bethy.”
Seth winked at Law when he looked over, and he nodded, fighting the urge to freak out. He flushed hot, though.
What the fuck was wrong with him? Pistol was his brother, goddamn it.
This was his brother’s man. Period.
He got back to work making waffles. No making anyone feel weird. Bonner and Dawn came in, Dawn red-eyed but obviously trying to act cool.
“Law’s making waffles. Y’all want one?”
“Please,” Bonner said, and Dawn nodded too.
“Is there juice?” she asked.
“Right there on the counter. Advil too.”
She tried to smile for him, but there were cracks around the edges. Poor baby.
“You need to talk to me, Dawnie?” Seth asked quietly.
“Later, Uncle.” She sat at the table with her juice. “I’m okay.”
Bethany gave her the next waffle.
“Thanks, Bee.”
“Syrup makes everything better, huh?” Bethany was trying so goddamn hard.
“It does, Sis. Thanks.” Dawn touched Bethany’s hand, a tiny gesture that damn near broke his heart.
This was his family, dammit, and he and Seth were going to have to learn how to be… dads.
They could do it. He simply had to control himself.
“You’ve got smoke coming out of your ears, Law.” Seth was grabbing another cup of coffee, letting their elbows rub together.
“Huh?” He damn near burned himself on the waffle iron. “Sorry. Thinking about the kids. How they got a bum deal but what kind of good you’ve done them.”
“Raising kids and critters. That’s what my momma said cowboys were made for.”
“I never thought I would be right here, now or ever.” Law shrugged. “It’s all right, though.”
“It is.” Seth met his eyes. “It’s better than.”
“Cool.” He could live with that. He really could.
“Uncle Law! I’m hangry!” Jordan wailed.
“How about you and Keira split this one, and I’ll make you another one to split too.”
“Okay!”
“You want me to take over so you can sit? I know you had to pull and tug a lot today.” Seth touched his hand, making him tingle.
“That would be rocking cool.” He could totally put his ass down.
“Have a sit. I got your back.”
“Thanks, Seth.” He took his juice to the table, scooting Jordan over, chair and all, which made the kid laugh out loud. “Don’t use all the syrup, Wiley.”
“I won’t. Probably.”
“Wiley!” Keira wailed. “I don’t have any.”
“There’s another bottle in the pantry,” Seth said, stopping the teasing.
“Oh.” Keira stopped short. “Uncle! We were having a fight!”
“Uh-huh. Now you’re not.”
“No fighting today, guys. We’re gonna eat, then go watch movies and nap on the couch.” Law looked at Bethany. “And read books.”
“I have to get my car,” Wiley said.
“And you will, but you can even hang out on the couch once we do, okay?” Seth slid another waffle on a plate.
“Bethy can have that one, and Keira and I can split one after Uncle Law and you have one, Uncle Seth.”
“You’re a good egg, kiddo.”
“Bawk bawk!”
Law blinked at Jordan, then cracked up, tickled as all get-out.
In fact, everyone had a chuckle, even Dawn, who sniffed and finally looked around at everyone. “The waffles are yummy.”
“Thank you.” He winked at her. “Are you going to sit with me and watch movies?”
“I think I will, yeah.” She shrugged. “I can only groom so much.”
“Don’t tell the horses that.”
“I promise.” She gave him a watery laugh.
A waffle appeared in front of him then, and he gave Seth a nod of thanks. That would make meds go down easier.
He looked around at his family and shook his head. This was—God, how had this happened?
Whatever it was he’d done to deserve it, he was just gonna thank God they were all here and safe.
And eat his waffle.
11
Seth was beginning to think Law McMann had had a stroke or something.
Not a big one. Nothing that made anything droop or slur or anything, but enough of a thing that the maddening son of a bitch’s emotions swung like a newly set gate—wide and crazy.
One second the man was giving him calf eyes; then they turned to a cold stare, like the man was a shark or something.
Maybe kissing Law had broke him. Maybe the man didn’t know he had a queer bone in him. Seth knew lots of cowboys that swung whichever way the wind blew, pun intended. Maybe fancy-assed Rangers didn’t suck in the dark, and Seth had cracked the bastard down the center like a dropped plate.
One way or the other, Law was avoiding him in the weirdest stalkery way possible.
“Are you and Uncle Law fighting?” Bethany asked him, wandering into the barn, which was a shock in its own right.
“Hey, chica. No. I don’t think so. I don’t remember any fights. Why?”
“Well, you were all, like, close. Now you’re both acting weird.” She picked at a thread on her sleeve.
“Yeah. I kissed him. I think I made it weird.”
“Oh.” She pondered that. “Well, he didn’t try to beat you up. Maybe you need to talk to him.”
“Yeah. I probably should apologize for making him uncomfortable, huh?” God, it was early in the day for raw honesty. “I should have asked if it was okay first. That wasn’t very nice of me.”
Although he’d felt that sweet fat prick under his hand. Law had been right there with him. Wanting it.
“Maybe we should get him a girlfriend?” That was Dawn, and honestly, God could strike him down, right now, and leave him not in this scenario; that would be good.
“Maybe he should get a boyfriend,” Bethany shot back. “He could be gay.”
“Soldiers aren’t allowed to be gay, Bethy. My art teacher is pretty, and she’s not married. I could ask her to come over. I sort of asked her, I mean. Just to come have coffee and see the horses.”
“No.” Bethany shook her head. “I think that Uncle Law doesn’t need an art teacher.”
“Girls. Girls, surely Uncle Law can handle his own love life.” Please stop. Please.
“Or not.” Bethany rolled her eyes.
“Obvi.” Dawn gave him a look that seemed to be reserved for thirteen-year-old girls, which meant he had three more to live through. “This is not a romance-savvy man.”
“A-a romance savvy…” This coming from Miss I’m Going to Marry a Horse and Damn All Others?
“He kissed Uncle Seth back. And he’s not a soldier anymore. He can be all gay rainbow man.” Bethany put her hands on her hips in her fight-me pose, and he would have run if they weren’t blocking the door.
“Sure. He can be both, right?” Dawn looked to Seth. “Bisexual’s a thing, right?”
Where was the hole that opened up to save him? Where? “Bisexual”—is a word I never thought I’d say in the barn with two little girls—“is totally a thing. God made us, and love is love, right?”
“See?”
“Uh, Dawn, can you call your art teacher and tell her maybe not to come right now? Or whenever you asked her to come? We’ll make a plan if L
aw wants to meet her. I need to talk to him first.” Warn him.
“Yeah. Yeah, if you think so. She’s really pretty…”
Bethany rolled her eyes. “Listen to me! He doesn’t like pretty! He likes… Uncle Seth.”
Dawn stopped and stared like Seth grew a second head. “Why?”
“Duh. Because he’s gay and wears tight jeans.”
“Okay. You two go.” That was enough. That was all he could handle. “Find things to do before I find something for you to do. Shoo.”
God.
They scattered like scared chickens, the threat of him putting them to work enough to make them run. Hallelujah.
Okay, time to gird his loins and go talk to Law. Loin girding. Lord that sounded dirty.
12
Law groaned, stretching out his back. Physical therapy had been a bear today, but his therapist had been utterly shocked at his progress.
“Ranch life,” he’d said with a wink. The work never ended, but it felt like good work. Somehow as necessary as what he’d done in the military, just on a much smaller scale.
Seth worked a lot like a commander, if Law was honest. There were calendars and drills and routines, not to mention the periodic warfare.
For instance, right now Jordan was on dog-poop duty for a week for throwing a turd at her sister.
Keira was on dog-washing duty for trying to hit Jordan with a cow flop and hitting Fuzzy instead. Fuzzy hated them both right now and was pouting hysterically on the front porch since Seth’s leather couches were not wet-dog friendly.
He grinned, stirring noodles into the chicken soup. He was about ten minutes away from calling everyone in for lunch when the kitchen door opened and Seth came in, looking a little hunted.
“Hey, mister. Can I have a second of your time?”
Oh fuck. “Sure.” Law braced himself, because this sounded serious.
“Okay, so first, I got to apologize. I kissed you without asking or nothing, and that was wrong. I don’t want you to feel all harassed and shit. I was out of line.”
Oh. Well, of course Seth was sorry. So Law nodded. “I know you were just missing Pistol. It’s nothing, really.”
“Huh?” That confused expression was immediate and honest as hell.
“Pistol. I mean, I’m not him. I get it.” He was trying to be all adult here.
“What does the kid have to do with it?”
“What?” Law frowned. “The two of you were a thing, right? Together.”
“Me and Pistol? Are you mad? He was a baby.” Seth stared at him like he’d grown a second head. “Of course we weren’t! God! Law!”
“Well, what was I supposed to think?” Law was feeling a little set back on his heels.
“Uh—that he was sixteen when I started traveling with him and I was in my midtwenties? Christ, man. Pistol was my best friend. That’s it. I loved him dearly, but—no. No.”
“Oh.” He looked down at his hands, his ears so hot they were going to strike up like little matches. “I just assumed. Sorry. I’m sorry.”
“Ask next time.” Seth pursed his lips before he shook his head, then walked right up close. No, not walked. Strode. “Jesus, man. I’m fixin’ to kiss the hell out of you. You good with that?”
“Hell yes.” His heart set up a heavy, hard beat, and he met Seth in the middle, wanting that mouth again more than he wanted to breathe.
“Thank God.” Seth grabbed the front of his T-shirt and brought their lips together in a no-holds-barred, “I’m going to blow your mind” kiss.
His brain shorted right out, his air supply whooshing from his lungs in a rush. He didn’t need it. All he needed was Seth.
For a little man, Seth was pure steel, the ass in his hands hard as rock, not a bit of give. He wanted to touch and see every bit, right now. He couldn’t. He knew that. The kids needed lunch, but… he wanted.
He pulled back, gritting his teeth. “The kids are coming in for lunch. I want to revisit this, though. Tonight.”
“Fair enough.” Seth stared at him, lips just barely swollen, and he’d done that. Him. “We solid?”
“As a rock. We’re so solid you don’t even know.” He was going to have to face the counter for a while until his cock went down.
“Excellent. You want a Coke?”
“Yeah, please.” He dished up lunch right about the time the kids piled inside, steadfastly ignoring the way Seth’s hands kept touching him.
He didn’t spill anything, and he was hot and bothered but composed.
The soup was a hit, thank God, and tonight was tacos, which made everyone happy.
That meant everyone would leave them alone early. That was a very good thing.
Law intended to join Seth in that huge master bedroom and touch that hard little body everywhere he could. Seth hadn’t been Pistol’s lover.
Thank God.
He’d never been so goddamn happy to look like a fool.
“You okay, Uncle Law?” Bethany asked.
“Kiddo. I am amazing.” He grinned at her.
“Yeah? Cool. Good. I’m glad.” She looked at Dawn, who rolled her eyes.
“I need to run make a call,” Dawn murmured. “Be right back.”
Seth choked on his Coke.
“Do I want to know?”
“Nope.” Seth grinned at him. “You so don’t.”
“Okay.”
Seth would tell him later. Bethany winked broadly. Okay, maybe he would ask her…
Law crumbled up saltines in his soup. “So what’s the plan for this afternoon, Jordan?” Jordan liked to spend time with him before supper on Saturdays. Last week it had been Top Chef meets Chopped; the week before it had been a princess tea.
“I want to make bread.”
“Yeah?” Shit, did he have the stuff to make bread? “What kind?” Maybe a soda bread. He had all the crap for that.
“Bread. To eat.”
“You got it.” Woo. That was a wide array of product.
“What about me?” Keira asked, and Seth rode to the rescue.
“I thought we’d play Clue with Bethany.”
“You get to stay and play? Yay!” Keira bounced up to hug Seth.
“Finish up your soup, honey.”
“It’s Saturday, hmm? After lunch is our time.”
“Cool! Did you hear that, Bethy?”
Bethany nodded, slurping a noodle. “I did. Dis good, Uncle Law.”
“You want to play too, Dawn?” Seth asked, and she shrugged, ever so nonchalantly.
“Sure. Why not?”
Oh, look at that. Wiley would be the only one to say no. He was working on his car feverishly.
“Can I make bread and then play too?” Jordan asked.
“Yep. Once the bread is in the oven, we’ll be a team.” Law loved that Jordan was so enthusiastic about everything. Law had always been a serious kid, and Pistol had been like Dawn—all animals, all the time.
“Is that okay, Uncle?”
Seth nodded. “Sh-shoot yeah. By the time we’re setup, y’all will be putting bread in the oven.”
“See?” He grinned, then finished up his soup. Man, kisses were the best mood improvement.
He couldn’t wait to see what actual sex did for them.
He couldn’t wait.
13
Seth put Jordan and Keira to bed, singing the “dinosaur won’t eat me when I sleep” song and checking under the bed. Bethany was asleep on the couch, but Wiley had promised to help her get to bed when she woke up in the middle of the night.
Everyone else had disappeared like smoke.
Except Law. Who was looking at him like he was dessert.
He still needed to pinch the son of a bitch. It had been the longest week ever, because Pistol? Shit.
Seth had never once in his life looked at Pistol the way he did at Law. That man was sex on the proverbial stick. Pistol had been… his little buddy at the beginning, and his travel buddy at the end. Not macking material.
Law, on the
other hand, was built like a brick shit-house. Solid, huge, hung—all the words he liked.
He grinned, stretching up, watching Law watch him. “Well. I reckon I’ll go kick my boots off and all. Want to come?” There. That was plain.
“God, yes.” Law got up, grabbing his cane but not really leaning on it. That boded well.
They made the walk down the hall to the master, and it felt a little like entering the arena. The knowledge that you were fixin’ to do something amazing, fun, and possibly dangerous as fuck.
He’d missed that sensation.
Seth wondered if Law did too. A man didn’t do what Law had and not be an adrenaline junkie.
He bet so. It was okay; he could give the man one hell of a ride.
They got into his room and closed the door, then stood there for long moments, staring. Seth wasn’t sure which one of them moved first, but then they were kissing, wrestling for hand holds.
He felt a little like a teenager, gasping and grabbing, but he needed. Bad.
“Mmph.” Law pushed him away to tug at the snaps on his shirt. “Want to see you.”
He dragged his shirt off, pulled off his undershirt, and let Law see. He had his share of scars and a couple of tattoos, and his belly was still good—not perfect, but good.
All in all, he wasn’t ashamed at all, and when he took off his jeans, he’d be even more proud.
“Oh.” Law sounded pretty damn happy, hands sliding on Seth’s skin, making goosebumps rise. “You’re all muscle, baby. Hard and smooth.”
Seth beamed, because he liked to hear that, needed to. He’d been admired some, but this wasn’t buckle bunnies and wanting grannies. This was a hot beast of a man.
His fingers itched to touch too. “You now.”
Law nodded, and he was pleased to see no hesitation to bare that hard torso covered in scars. Lord, that must have hurt.
He reached out and let his fingers explore. He’d loved on men tore up in damn near every way possible. He wasn’t scared. Not even a bit.
Law closed his eyes a moment, then grabbed Seth’s hips to pull him close, swaying as if they were dancing. “God, you feel good. I knew you would.”
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