by J. D. Light
Chapter Four
Mustang slammed into the fence right in front of Jefferson, and he had to move quickly to get his arms out of the way, so they didn't get crushed.
"Stay back, Jefferson," I snapped, reaching out and hooking his back pocket and dragging him further away from the fence. "You're going to get your damn arm broken."
He stumbled into me from the hard tug, and his body pressed against mine a short moment while he regained his equilibrium before he jerked away, spinning quickly and blinking at me. "What?"
I'd been messing with him the night before when I said he should stay in bed, trying to get him to admit he'd been checking me out when he'd fallen into the trough, because now more than ever, I was convinced that was exactly what had happened, but he'd figured me out. Now, though, with my heart racing and my palms sweating, all the what ifs I usually had while doing something like breaking a spirited animal were magnified, just because Jefferson was there.
"Why aren't you worried about me?" Cutter asked, once again smirking at my expense when I slowly turned my head in his direction and away from Jefferson, who was giving me a confused and slightly hurt look that told me I was probably walking all over his pride right then.
I grunted, not answering either man and turned to walk away, forcing myself not to stand too close to Jefferson for fear I'd piss him off further anytime I thought he was going to get hurt. I didn't know why my need to protect him was so fucking out of control, but I was going to end up pissing him off pretty good if I didn't stop.
He spent the rest of the afternoon sending me looks that varied between confused, pissed off, worried and exasperated, and I was pretty sure he almost punched me when Mustang tried to bolt through the center of the barn when Rudy led him in there, and he saw daylight on the other side.
Jefferson had handled it well, throwing his arms out, making the horse stop before reaching out and grabbing the halter… and then I'd snapped at him again, telling him not to stand in front of an irritated horse, and he'd calmly handed Mustang over to Cutter and marched past me, bumping his shoulder against mine, and then proceeded to ignore me the rest of the day.
Which was why I was trying to tiptoe past him where he sat on the couch in the living room, not wanting him to yell at me.
"What's going on?" he asked, turning and throwing an arm over the back of the couch, catching me mid tippy-toe. "Do you not think I know what I'm doing out there, or something?"
I sighed, letting my arms flop down to my side. "It's not that," I said, coming around the back of the couch and plopping down in my usual spot. "I know you're incredibly smart at all of this, and you are definitely agile enough for it. I just… I don't know." I licked my lips, not sure how to explain it. "I couldn't stop worrying that you were going to get hurt."
"But you weren't worried about Cutter?" he asked, leaning forward and putting his forearms on his thighs while clasping his hands together.
"I'm always worried about everyone, to a point…" I trailed off, once again at a loss of how to explain the difference between him and everyone else, without giving away my growing feelings.
"But you were worried about me more," he whispered, frowning slightly like he was thinking. "I know I'm not as old as Rudy, Cutter or Sam, but I'm pretty damn good at this job."
"I know that, okay?" I rolled my head against the back of the couch before grabbing him and pulling him closer, tucking him under my arm, and resting my forehead against the side of his, so that I was speaking directly into his ear. "I know you can handle yourself. I promise you, this has nothing to do with your skill."
We sat close sometimes, but this was by far the closest we'd gotten to a full-on embrace, and with the way he pressed his body closer to mine, maybe it was an embrace. For me, it was almost like I wanted to touch him always, but held back for fear that I'd like it too much and he wouldn't like it at all.
He frowned, biting his lip for a moment before pulling back and turning his head to look at me. "Do you see me as a son-type figure?"
He didn't look like he liked that idea any more than I did, like he was completely dreading my answer, and I leaned closer, watching his eyes as I closed in.
"I definitely don't see you as a son-type figure." I barely recognized my own voice. It was husky and deep and sounded just like I was trying to seduce someone. Which, I guess I kinda was, because there was nothing in the world I wanted more in that moment than to taste him, to lean in and finally take what I'd been thinking about since the moment I'd spotted him, sitting there at that table all by himself, clearly buzzing on coffee, and yet yawning hard enough to make his eyes water.
"What do you think of me as?" he asked boldly, eyes wide in wonder and dark with need.
Yes. I wanted to see that look on his face every day. I wanted him to see me the way he was apparently seeing me right then all the time.
I leaned in, nearly pressing our lips together. "I see you. I see all of…"
"Byrum?" Nancy Watts yelled from the kitchen, having come in the back way.
Jefferson gasped and jumped back, his eyes wide and maybe a little scared as he looked at me.
"I brought my floor cleaner today," Nancy went on from the other room. "If you guys are planning on being home while I'm here, you'd better mind the wet floor sign. I'm not about to try to pick either one of your big asses up off the floor."
I didn't comment, too worried about the increasingly more terrified by the moment look on Jefferson's face. Reaching up, I cupped his cheek, giving him a soft smile I was hoping would calm him down.
It seemed to work a bit, and he swallowed hard before taking a deep breath and smiling back, though he still looked a little nervous.
I'd gone about this all wrong. I should have told him about me, and let him admit what he'd already started to admit when he fell asleep the night before, and then tried to kiss him. Jefferson was still less than a month out from a relationship, I'd gathered, through the small things he let slip now and then, that had mortified him, and his trust in closeted men… and probably men in general had been shattered, and I honestly couldn't say that I blamed him.
I might not have been the one to hurt him, but he was in defense mode, protecting himself from everyone and everything. If I wanted his trust, I had to show that I was trustworthy, and you didn't do that by not telling someone everything, and then trying to kiss them.
"Don't run from me, okay?" At his nod, I gave another sigh, not completely sure he was telling the truth. "Are we still good, Jefferson? I didn’t ruin this did I? Tell me I didn't ruin our friendship."
Nancy was going on and on about something in the background while she banged around in the kitchen putting dishes away. I didn't even know if she actually knew we were in here, or if she was just talking to be talking, but I couldn't concentrate on what she had to say either way. I was too busy looking into those gorgeous hazel, nearly amber eyes, and begging him to tell me everything was okay.
"You didn't ruin this," he finally whispered, giving me a shy, but genuine smile. "I think we might need to talk about this at some point, but I'm not gonna run. This feels like home now already, and unless you're ready to get rid of me… or unless I've ruined this, I don't want to leave you." His eyes widened slightly, and he cleared his throat. "I mean here."
I chuckled, pulling him into my arms for a hug, and holding him far too long not to reveal what an emotional wreck I was turning out to be. "You're always welcome here… and with me, sweetheart."
When he pulled back and gave me another of those shy smiles, this time minus the nervousness, I touched it with my thumb and swiped my finger over his lips, wishing I'd felt the texture against my own, but glad I hadn't ruined everything with my impatience.
He stood, and turned, making his way to the hall, and I watched him move, enjoying the way his ass flexed under the denim of his jeans. He stopped at the entrance to the hallway, turning his head and catching me.
When he raised an eyebrow, I shrugged, not really su
re what he expected of me. Now that the fucking dam was cracked, I didn't know if I was going to be able to contain everything.
***
I practically threw my son and my best friend out the front door, happy that my plan was a go, and Wilder even knew about it, but I'd barely seen Jefferson all day with him being busy running the heifers through the shoots, giving them a good check over, since we'd found one dead the day before, and thankfully, the coyotes hadn't gotten to her yet, or we wouldn't have realized she'd had a runny nose, though we may have been able to see that she had a bad case of the scowers, since there had been shit pretty much all around her.
I hated the idea that she'd suffered in any way. We all did, so we'd thought it might be a good idea to get the others up and check them for symptoms. I was glad we had, but I'd secretly missed Jefferson. Okay, Cutter had made it pretty obvious that it wasn't so secret, telling me I was driving him crazy pacing the office at the sell barn, waiting for the man who was supposed to be scheduling us a time to come down and buy some more calves before they went into the auction.
I was usually a patient man, but damn. Fifteen minutes of sitting in those terrible chairs with nothing to do but think about Jefferson, and what had nearly happened on the couch two nights before.
We'd been normal, thankfully, and he'd stuck around just like he said he would, but I desperately wanted to spend time with him. All my time. I knew it was unhealthy, and completely unproductive, but I couldn't help it. Even if all he wanted from me was friendship, I just wanted him.
"You're so sneaky," he said when I turned and found him leaning against the short wall between the kitchen and living room. "If I didn't see with my own eyes how much Wellston was drooling over Wilder, I'd even call you mean. He talked you into doing exactly what you already wanted to do, didn't he? And Wilder just sat back and let it happen."
I was taking them on a camping trip where I was basically forcing them to share a bed and spend more time together. I'd booked the cabin before I'd even talked to Wellston, knowing full well I'd have to con him into going at all, so I'd told him I wanted to go camping for my birthday. It was still a couple months away, but the weather would be getting cold soon, and we needed to go before it got too chilly.
Wellston had negotiated me out of tents and into a cabin, but since that had been the plan in the beginning, I'd had to throw the tents out there first so he could think he was talking me into cabins. There had been other aspects that had me just on this side of lying to get my way, but I didn't really feel all that bad about that.
"You should come with us and witness the debacle for yourself." And keep me from going insane because you aren't there.
"And sleep where?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at me before pushing off the wall and moving toward me where I was standing behind the back of the couch.
He was already dressed for bed, but instead of the oversized sweatshirt he'd been wearing a couple of nights ago, he was wearing a T-shirt that was thin enough to lie against his skin and show off the perfect lines of his body.
"Isn't the lack of beds exactly why Wilder and Wellston have to share?" he asked, pressing his ass to the top of the couch and leaning on it next to me.
That had been part of the plan too. The cabin actually came with two rooms, each containing a queen size bed, and then there was the couch. Perfect for the three of us… except, I'd also told him to invite his best friend Harlowe and Harlowe's boyfriend Joey, and obviously I was getting the couch.
"The sofa pulls out into a bed. You can share with me." I hadn't actually thought that part through, or exactly how it would work. It had actually vaulted out of my mouth before I'd given it much thought at all.
All I knew was that I really hadn't liked the idea of two whole days and nights of not seeing him. Most of one day had been bad enough.
He swallowed hard, licking his lips. "I'd better not," he said huskily. "Someone needs to be here to watch the ranch."
"Rudy can come stay." I was grasping at straws and starting to sound desperate, but I wasn't really in control anymore. "That's what he always does when I go camping."
"Did you forget Rudy just got a new puppy?" Jefferson asked, sending me a sideways smirk. "He can't leave it at home, and I promise you don't want it here, shitting all over your house and eating your throw pillows."
I sighed, pursing my lips and pouting at him like a child. "Fine," I grumbled, sagging further against the couch as I contemplated just how I was going to keep myself busy enough while we were gone to keep from losing my mind.
"Wow, no manipulation tactics?" Jefferson asked, turning to me full and reaching a hand up to place his wrist against my forehead. "Flu season here already?"
I chuckled, reaching up and grabbing his wrist before pulling him into a hug, careful to keep it as casual as I could. "You had me at puppy."
Taking a deep breath, I inhaled the sweet scent of his dark citrusy scent, wondering if I should pack a bottle to take with me, or just steal one of his shirts or something, so I could still enjoy his smell while I was gone.
I took another long drag of his scent, cutting my moan off into more of a grunt before setting him back away from me, holding him at arm's length and closing my eyes for a moment to gain some focus. His scent was making me dizzy, and the feel of his body pressed to mine had made me unbelievably hard.
I still had five days before I left for the camping trip, but something I'd been dreaming and scheming up for a while was suddenly too close. I needed more time with him before it got here. Maybe then I could talk him into going with me… and sharing a bed.
When I finally opened my eyes and looked at him, he was smiling shyly again with a bright blush on his face.
"Tell me if you change your mind about the camping trip, okay?" At his nod, I rocked up on my tippy-toes, pressing a kiss to his forehead and making him gasp, before leaving him there staring after me as I retreated to my room in hopes of getting a handle on my feelings, because I was losing control of them fast, and sweet Jefferson still wasn't ready for what I had in mind.
***
"It didn't need stitches, Byrum," Jefferson said dryly from his usual seat next to me on the couch with his feet once again in my lap and his back pressed against the arm. "We could have just superglued it."
It was so damn good to be back home, and I'd only even been gone one night since Cutter made Jefferson call me to let me know that he'd cut his hand open on barbed wire. Maybe I was over-reacting, or maybe I'd just been looking for an excuse to run home, but instead of letting Rudy or Cutter take him to the hospital like a rational human being, I'd made everyone pack up, and we raced the two hours back to the ranch, just so I could pile a not-even-still-bleeding Jefferson into the SUV and drive another forty-five minutes to the hospital, just so they could put four tiny little stitches in it, and gauze it up.
I didn't know what the look on my face must have been like in all that time, because not one single person argued with me, except Jefferson. Not my mouthy son, or his new boyfriend who was also my best friend, not Cutter or Rudy or Sam, and not one of the nurses I'd glowered at as they passed us in the waiting room, silently telling them to hurry the fuck up and get us back there.
"No way," I said, shaking my head and gently warming his feet by rubbing my hands back and forth over his freezing toes and the tops of his feet. "You'd end up getting some kind of nasty infection and lose your hand or something."
He gave a short, disbelieving laugh and shook his head. "That's dramatic."
"I know!" I threw my hands in the air like an idiot and then quickly put them back down on his feet, not wanting him to feel cold. I was acting completely crazy. Never in my life had I had such a strong urge to take care of someone. "I can't help it though. Fuck, Jefferson, I… fuck."
Jefferson watched my face for several minutes as he tilted his head to the side like he was studying an exhibit at the museum, nibbling on his bottom lip, and I took advantage of the moment to run my eyes over him again an
d again, enjoying the sweet beauty of this sometimes shy, sometimes sassy man.
He took a deep breath and scooted forward, pulling his feet out of my lap and curling them under him slightly, positioning himself so that his face was less than a foot from mine. "Is this what I think it is, Byrum?" He asked, in his shy but bold way that always melted me.
There was a hesitance in the way he watched me, like he wasn't completely sure of my acceptance of his presence, which was not at all logical considering how often I invaded his bubble, but the bandage on his hand was all the proof he needed to point out that I myself was far from logical about this whole situation, but I didn't want him to be concerned about his welcome. I wanted him in my space. I wanted him in my space so damn much.
"Yes, sweetheart," I whispered, leaning in closer, letting him see my intent and giving him one last out. "This is exactly what you think it is."
His breath whooshed out of him like he'd been holding it in anticipation of my reply, and I pressed forward even more, slowly reaching up to cup his neck, and then pressing my lips to his, letting my eyelids slowly slide closed.
I didn't move for a long moment, just let our mouths press together, enjoying the feel of his soft lips, and letting myself come to the realization that this was finally happening as his scent filled my nostrils and my lungs.
One of his hands came up to grip my shirt as he pressed a little closer, and I groaned, tilting my head and licking the seam of his mouth, swallowing his moan as he let me in, parting those velvet lips and accepting my tongue inside his mouth with a sweet suckle.
My dick pressed hard against the front of my pants and I grunted, leaning further into his space and easing him down to his back on the couch, falling easily between his legs as he unfolded them from underneath him, all while releasing the suction on my tongue and then rolling his against mine.
His arms slid around my neck and one of my hands braced against the back of the couch while the other slid under his shoulder, so I could hook it easily. Our mouths moved together deliciously, the slide of his tongue against mine erotic and sweet as I settled my lower body against his, our similarities in height making it easy for our mouths and dicks to line up, and I let my outside leg drop to the floor, so I could use it for leverage as I rocked against him, making us both gasp.
