New Tricks

by J. D. Light

  "Don't judge," I warned, actually turning my head to look at him, letting him see the seriousness on my face. "You don't know what he's been through or what it is that holds him back."

  "I'm not judging," he said, straightening with a frown as he looked at me like he couldn't believe I would even suggest it before slumping back down to lazily lean on the fence. "But I can guess what's holding him back. The same thing that holds a lot of us back, I'd imagine."

  He was right. Sometimes I forgot that Cutter had ever had to be anything but what he was. He might not shout his sexuality from the rooftops, but he was more than willing to talk about it if it pertained to the conversation at hand, but there had been a time when he'd been very hush, hush about it all. A time when not hiding who he was would have been very dangerous for him.

  "Yeah," I said, reaching out and putting a hand on his shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze. "It's hard to escape the way people made you feel in the past sometimes."

  And I meant that for both him and Jefferson.

  "Being around us, and even that boy of yours might help," he said, chuckling softly. "It also might make him rethink being with someone with such poor parenting skills."

  "You're such an ass." I reached out and shoved him, both of us chuckling as he stumbled sideways and had to grab the paneling when he almost went down, because his foot had slipped between the bars on one of the lower rungs and wasn't there to catch him. "No wonder that cute little ginger at the feed store runs every time you walk in. What did you do to scare him?"

  The sound of lots and lots of moving hooves accompanied the soft calls to the cows and the mewling moo of the cattle as they moved in our direction, had us temporarily side-tracked as we moved into position, sectioning off around a dozen in the front opening. It took a little coaxing to get the first cow into the shoot to be checked over, but she was fairly calm once inside.

  "I smiled at him once," Cutter said, getting back to the conversation, telling me that it was actually something that bothered him. "He's been hiding behind pallets of sweet-feed ever since."

  I cringed, knowing exactly what the problem was. Cutter was a pretty handsome man, but his smile almost looked like a sneer. "Uh, Cut. You know your smile isn't all that friendly, right? It's actually kinda terrifying."

  "What?" he asked, clearly surprised. "How?"

  "You look like you're baring your teeth," Rudy said, peeling his lips back in a pretty good interpretation of Cutter's smile. "It's kinda endearing once you get to know you, but first impressions? It feels a little like a threat."

  I nodded sympathetically. "You have a somewhat sweet smile when you don't try to show your teeth, but… yeah."

  "Whatever," he grumbled, when Rudy moved away, out of earshot. "Why don't you take your shirt off again and see if you can't make another senseless run to the hospital."

  I licked my teeth, trying not to smile. "Whatever? Did you just whatever me?" I raised my hand to my forehead, making a W with three fingers and then spinning it to and E and then throwing an L against the bottom of my cowboy hat, mouthing What-ever, loser."

  He froze for a moment, blinking at me in surprise as his lip curled. He probably wondered where the hell I'd ever learned that. It had actually been from a movie Wellston had watched several times when he was in his early teens. It had maybe been a cute movie… the first three times through, but he'd proceeded to watch it enough to learn every single line in the damn thing along with the musical dance numbers, and I'd nearly banned television from our house completely.

  After a long moment, he shook his head, turning his attention back to where Rudy was latching the gate at the end of the alley that the cows would follow to the holding shoot. "As if, beeotch."

  I tilted my head with attitude, putting my hand on my hip and pursing my lips. "Don't go there," I said, sliding my head back and forth on my shoulders.

  Cutter laughed. "Your mom went there."

  "What the hell are you two doing?" Rudy asked, and Cutter and I both blinked up at the man who was standing on the rungs of one of the panels, leaning over and frowning down at the two of us.

  Apparently, we'd been so far into our vintage sayings war, neither of us had noticed that they'd moved the second cow out and were waiting on the two of us to push the next one up. I looked around, catching Jefferson's eye as he stood there watching me with a raised eyebrow and clearly trying not to laugh.

  And my face had to have gone several shade darker as blood rushed to my cheeks, even as I thought he was adorable like that, and that I'd do a million embarrassing things a day if it meant he'd look like that all the time.

  Sam was the first to lose it, his laugh rumbling out from deep in his belly, making it almost impossible for the rest of us not to start laughing too, and Cutter and I somehow managed to get another cow up.

  "Hey, Rudy," I said, pulling the lever to shut the shoot behind the new cow. "Cutter said he wants to go to the feed store and snarl at the employees some more. He likes it."

  Sam's head popped up from the other side of the shoot where he was giving the black cow her vaccine. "Oh, you mean the cute little ginger that hides every time he sees Cutter coming?"

  We all laughed except Cutter and Jefferson, the latter looking over at the cowboy in question in surprise and confusion while the former threw his hands down in a gesture that was an old one but a good one, thrusting his hips forward and pointing at his crotch.

  "Suck it, Sam."

  Sam gestured back. "You suck it."

  "You both suck it," Rudy growled, leaning down to check out the cow's feet.

  "Maybe if you slipped in the back and sucked it sometime, he'd stop being afraid of you," Sam told Cutter, chuckling and ducking away when cutter leaned down and scooped up a rock, throwing it at him.

  Cutter laughed when Sam stumbled over a fairly big stone on the ground and almost went down. "Maybe if your mom sucked it every once in a while, we wouldn't have to listen to your mouth all the time."

  "Huh." Jefferson leaned on the fence next to Rudy. "How am I the youngest one here?

  Chapter Seven

  I tried to keep my face straight as I slid by Byrum in the small space of the opening to the feed shed as we both worked to feed the three little foals who were recently weaned. I might or might not have tilted my hips, pressing my ass back against the front of his jeans as I passed… twice.

  "You did that on purpose," he growled, as I moved out into the open space, hefting the feed bucket up over the stall door.

  "Did what on purpose?" I asked, not even turning to look at him, as I stretched out, leaning forward slightly as I poured the feed, giving him a great view of my ass, and making sure to pour really slow.

  When the feed was all poured out, I stepped back down, turning to take the bucket back to the feed shed. He wrapped his arms around me from behind, surprising a laugh out of me as he spun me, pressing my chest to the wall and his front to my back. "You brushed against me as you went by, smelling fucking delicious and dragging this gorgeous ass against my dick."

  He pressed his hips forward, and the air left me, and I bit my lip, tilting my hips and pressing back against him as one hand cupped my pec and the other slid across my abs, rucking my shirt up.

  "No, I didn't," I said huskily. I'd been primed all day, unable to think about much else besides the way I knew what those lips that stretched wide over his gleaming teeth tasted like, and what those large, scarred and calloused hands felt like against my skin, what that powerful ass that his worn jeans showcased so well felt like beneath my palms. "It was a tight squeeze."

  "I'll show you a tight squeeze," he growled, as his hands slid down the front of my body, working my jeans open quickly before sliding inside and pulling me free, his fingers wrapping around me in a way that stole my breath, and the bucket hit the floor, clattering loudly against the concrete as I reached out, bracing my hands on the wall.

  "Oh fuck," I groaned, dropping my head to the wood paneling.

  "You're
already hard," he growled, against the back of my neck, rasping his whiskers against my skin.

  "I've been fighting my junk all day. Hell, I've been fighting it all month."

  "I wish I had time to suck you." He stroked me from base to tip, stopping to gather the pre-cum sliding out of the slit, and massaging it into the sensitive head. "You have such a pretty dick, sweetheart. It would fit perfectly down my throat."

  "Oh shit," I whimpered as he started stroking me, using the slide of my skin around the hard shaft and keeping the pulls short and quick.

  He nibbled along my neck, stopping to run his chin over the same skin, making it sting, and I tilted my head, needing more.

  "Look at you," he groaned, his deep, husky voice vibrating through his chest to my back. "Your skin turns such a pretty color red. I could leave these little marks on you all over, couldn't I?"

  "Yes," I cried, wanting his marks all over me.

  His hand covered my mouth, reminding me that we were in the fucking horse barn, and the main door was standing wide open. I should have freaked. In the past I probably would have, but the pressure was building too fast, and as he sucked a hickey on the flesh at the back of my neck, just below where my collar would fall if he didn't have it pushed down, I shot against the paneling of the wall, calling out against his hand.

  When I didn't have anything left in me, I fell back against his chest, grunting when he dropped his hand from my mouth, rubbing soothing circles on my stomach. After a long moment of me just breathing, nothing of importance running through my brain, since I was pretty sure all the synapses had short-circuited, he gently tucked me away and did up the front of my jeans before just holding me there like that.

  "What about you?" I asked, when I finally stood fully, turning in his arms and wrapping mine around his shoulders.

  "Oh, I'll get mine later." He gave me a sexy smirk before pressing his lips against mine, and I sighed into the sweet contact, lazily slipping my tongue into his mouth and slowly licking in and out.

  "These next few hours can't pass fast enough," he groaned, pulling back and looking me over before reaching down and adjusting himself in a way that had my body twitching.

  He was absolutely right about that.

  ***

  I'd been thinking all day about some of the things said while we were vaccinating the cows earlier, and the more I thought about it, the more I realized it wasn't the first time the guys had teased Cutter about the redhead at the feed store. Apparently, I'd just never put together that they were talking about Henley, the skittish little cutie who would talk your ear off if he ever got comfortable with you.

  By the time we finished dinner, and cleaned up, my curiosity was burning a hole in my mouth. I knew I should probably mind my own business, but… I really didn't want to.

  We moved to the couch like always, but this time, before I could ease into my normal seat, Byrum grabbed my arm and pulled me to him, falling back onto the couch with me between his legs.

  I honestly hadn't expected him to want these things from me. These mushy, romantic, snuggly things that made me want things I wasn't completely sure was on the table.

  For a while, my curiosity was forgotten, as I settled back against him, relaxing into his chest. His knee was drawn up along the back of the couch, while the other leg hung off the front accommodating me perfectly as I leaned my head back on his shoulder and he ran a finger over the hickey he'd left on my neck the day before.

  I didn't know why no one had pointed it out during the day, especially since they tended to jump on those types of things immediately, but I was thankful, because there wasn't a doubt in my mind that I would have stumbled through that like an idiot.

  "Hey, Byrum?" I asked, after we'd been sitting there a while, the TV low in the background.

  "Yeah?"

  "You don't have to tell me if it's a secret," I said, running my fingers over the back of the arm that was slung over my shoulder and lying across my chest. "But I got the impression that Cutter was gay too?"

  Byrum gave a small chuckle, pressing a kiss to the side of my head. "Yeah. It's not really a secret. He doesn't go around telling everyone simply because it's not really anyone's business, but he's out."

  Something swelled in my chest at the idea that the big, patient and sometimes goofy man was out to the world… in a town the size of Haven Hills. As far as I'd seen, nobody had an issue with Cutter. He seemed to be an accepted and respected member of the community.

  It gave me hope. Maybe someday I'd be brave enough to come out to everyone, but until then…

  "Byrum," I said quietly, turning slightly in his arms so I could look at him. He raised his eyebrows in question, and I smiled into his handsome face, taking a deep breath. "I'm gay."

  The smile he gave me… There was pride in his expression that I wasn't sure I deserved as he reached up, cupping the side of my face. "How did that feel?" he asked, sounding emotional.

  My heart was racing, and my palms were definitely sweating. "Terrifying," I whispered, but I couldn't stop the answering smile. "A part of me wants to pull it back, but another part of me feels so fucking relieved."

  His laugh sounded emotional as he leaned forward, pressing his lips to mine and talking against my smiling mouth. "Congratulations on coming out, sweetheart."

  A hysterical laugh bubbled up out of my chest, sounding too high and too loud. "I don't know if I'm ready to share with the world yet, but I do feel better."

  "You get to choose when you're ready, sweetheart." He leaned forward pressing his lips to the corner of my mouth.

  I sighed happily, leaning back against him as we resumed snuggling and watching… something. I honestly couldn't say what was on the TV, but it didn't really matter because, as terrible an idea I knew it was considering we still hadn't discussed what we were to each other, I just went ahead and fell a little harder for the man holding me and treating me like I was important to him.

  ***

  Early October

  I was in serious trouble and I knew it. Every day that passed solidified the truth in me, and no matter how much I tried not to think about the future where Byrum finally tired of me, I couldn't help but think that the man had been fine without anyone for nearly twenty-three years. That had to mean he'd liked that life, or why would he live it? And with every passing day, I was becoming more and more attached.

  There'd been no mention of a future, and considering we'd only been… doing whatever we were doing for a couple of short weeks, there probably shouldn't be any mention of a future. Unfortunately, I probably shouldn't be completely in love with him either, but here we were.

  Everything had been completely beautiful between us for two whole weeks, and I'd been happier than I'd ever been in my life, but then I'd woken up, wrapped in his arms that morning, a stupid smile on my face before I was even fully functioning, and I'd felt it. I was in love… and then I'd started to freak out, and I hadn't really stopped yet.

  "What's wrong, sweetheart? You're acting funny." Byrum sounded so calm and patient, not at all like he was accusing me of anything, and I held in a groan, wishing he'd stop giving me more and more reasons to love him.

  We were lying naked across his bed, slowly recovering from yet another intense experience where he'd sucked me off, making me yell his name at the ceiling before he'd climbed up over me, straddling my hips and stroking himself until he was coming all over my chest and stomach.

  I wasn't even sure what it was that I'd used to wipe my chest down with, but it would definitely be nice and sticky in the morning.

  "What was your wife like?" I blurted, needing something to distract him, but suddenly realizing how crazy I probably sounded, yelling that out like that. "Sorry, that's not… I'm fine. I've just been in my own head today."

  Which was completely true. I'd spent most of the day lost in space, wondering if I was going to be able to survive losing him if he suddenly decided he wanted to go back to the single life.

  "I was just cu
rious about your wife, because we've never really talked about her. I think the picture in the living room of the pregnant woman in the purple shirt is her, but there aren't really anymore.

  He blinked for a moment, probably noting just how nervous I sounded even to my own self, but he just shrugged, rolling his head on the bed to look at me. "She wasn't actually my wife. She told me she didn't want to get married while she was pregnant, because she didn't want the baby to ever think the only reason his parents got married was just because of him, and she didn't want to be like a pregnant bride, even if she was one. She really hadn’t even fully made a decision yet whether or not she was going to marry me at all."

  He chuckled, shaking his head, and I frowned, confused.

  "Why is that funny?"

  "Tiff was funny," he said softly, still smiling. "She didn't need anyone for anything, and she knew it. She had plans and goals, and though she knew it was going to be tough, she was determined to be a mother and a career woman, and I had no doubt she would have accomplished it. She told me she just wasn't sure how I was going to play into things. She wasn't all that interested in being married."

  I blinked in surprise. "Did that bother you?"

  He shook his head, still smiling. "No. Tiff was my friend. One of my best friends. We weren't dating when she got pregnant. Hell, us getting together every once-in-a-while and having sex wasn't abnormal at all, but neither of us was really interested in dating each other. When she got pregnant, my parents were adamant that we needed to be together for the baby, but we both thought it would be easier if we didn't since we got along so well as friends, but her parents had basically just wiped their hands of the whole thing, and mine were pushing us toward becoming a couple. We basically did it to get them off of our backs, and I think eventually we would have gotten married and probably would have had a pretty good life."

  That's it? That was their story? If he wasn't completely torn up from the one relationship he'd had, then…

  "Why haven't you dated? I guess I'd kinda assumed it was because you were still in love with your wife, or something, but though you guys seemed to have a great relationship, it doesn't sound like it was like that for you. So, what does hold you back."