Timing

by Mary Calmes

  “We’re just watchin’ out for you until the boss gets back.”

  “I see.” I smiled at him. “And if someone you guys didn’t know came up the drive, then what would you do?”

  “We would see who they were and then—”

  “Are you sure?” I asked him.

  He let out a quick breath. “I know you think you know all about Texas, Mr. Joss, but we don’t really shoot first and ask questions later. We’re all God-fearin’ men, and we don’t just kill people with no cause.”

  “He doesn’t,” Everett agreed, looking over his shoulder at me. “I’m a shoot first kinda guy, Mr. Joss. Any car I don’t know starts up this drive and they’re dead. Those were my boss’s words to me, and he is the law on this ranch.”

  “But you would have to answer to the real law, the law of the state of Texas, if you did something illegal to someone even on this ranch.”

  “Not likely,” he said, returning to his vigil. “It’s called trespassin’, Mr. Joss.”

  Which basically contradicted everything that Dustin had said only moments before.

  “He’s not right in the head,” Dustin assured me. “We don’t let him talk to people much.”

  They were both there simply to keep me safe. I was very thankful and told them both so.

  “I reckon as long as you keep the boss man lookin’ how he’s been lookin’ these past four days that we got us a fair trade, Mr. Joss.”

  Everett didn’t even turn to look at me when he spoke.

  I looked over at Dustin.

  “Mr. Holloway is a fair man and a good boss. He pays an honest wage for an honest day’s work, but ’til this week, I ain’t never seen that man smile or even heard him laugh.”

  “I kinda like it,” Everett spoke up before shifting his feet on the porch rail, trading which ankle was on top. “Normally nothin’s right, and these past four days… everything was.”

  “We all had us a good week, Mr. Joss,” Dustin told me, smiling wide, hands shoved down into his pockets. “Why don’t you go on back inside, unless you’re fixin’ to go down to the barn and visit your calf?”

  “Maybe later,” I said. “Thanks again for being out here.”

  “It’s our pleasure,” Everett told me.

  I stood there a few more minutes, watching as Dustin took his seat back beside Everett, seeing them take sips of slowly melting glasses of iced tea.

  Back inside, I wondered about their attitudes. No matter what they thought of me being gay, they accepted me because of Rand. He was important to them, and so because I seemed good for him, they were fine with me being there. It was a lot to take in.

  I realized when I was in the kitchen that I was almost asleep on my feet. The adrenaline rush of running for my life, coupled with how late I had been up the night before, had taken a toll on me. Climbing the stairs to the second floor, I walked into my bedroom, but for whatever reason, I couldn’t make myself go in and lie down. I staggered to Rand’s room instead and collapsed onto his bed. It smelled like him, and that was comforting as I closed my eyes.

  Something smelled amazing, and my stomach growling finally woke me up.

  “I went ahead and stopped and got some pulled pork sandwiches for lunch.” Rand smiled down at me. “I got coleslaw and potato salad and lots of beer.”

  I sat up, staring at him. “Why did you stop, I was going to cook?”

  “Because I figured you were more tired than you let on,” he explained, smiling at me. “And I hoped you’d rest which you did.”

  It was terribly thoughtful and I was so very touched.

  “Everett and Dusty freak you out?”

  “No,” I yawned. “It was sweet of you. Are they still there?”

  “Yep.”

  “Everett’s a little spooky.”

  “Yep,” he agreed.

  “Is he the scariest guy on the ranch?”

  “No sir, I’m the scariest guy on this ranch.”

  I chuckled. “I’m sure.”

  “Then Mac, then Everett.”

  I nodded as he put the plate that he had been holding back on the nightstand.

  “You doubt me?”

  I shook my head.

  “You do, you think I’m fulla shit.”

  “No,” I teased, moving over to him, shifting so I was straddling his thighs.

  He moved one hand to my hip as he reached up and brushed my hair out of my eyes with the other. He looked worried.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked as I leaned down and kissed him slowly, taking my time, the kiss becoming consuming, devouring. I let the need build in him, in me.

  “I almost lost you,” he breathed out. “I was really scared.”

  “But I’m fine.”

  “You were just lucky.”

  “I’ve always been lucky.”

  “Promise me you’ll be careful from now on.”

  “I promise.”

  He took a shaky breath. “You hate bein’ stuck out here.”

  “No,” I said truthfully. “It’s actually kinda nice.”

  “You’re lyin’.”

  “I am not,” I growled at him. “If I hated it, you would so know.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Yes, Rand, I promise you. I show my feelings to you. I don’t hide shit from you.”

  “Show me,” he ordered as he pushed up into me. “Show me you love it here.”

  I leaned over to the nightstand, and he shivered when he heard me fumbling in the drawer, knowing what I had retrieved.

  “What’s with you?” I husked, bending over him.

  “I want you.”

  “You got me,” I said, my voice husky and deep beside his ear.

  His groan was primal and desperate as I kissed down the side of his neck. When he moved under me, lifting up to dump me down onto the bed, I smiled up at him. Looming over me, pushing his groin against my crease, his eyes narrowing in half, the man was the sexiest thing I had ever seen in my life.

  “Rand.”

  “Could we just… can I just be inside you? I really need to be in that tight ass of yours. I need to be in you so I can feel your heart.”

  I started stripping under him.

  “I can’t… wait,” he growled, yanking my jeans to my knees before flipping me over on my stomach. I came up on my hands and knees in the middle of the bed, and he snatched the lube from where I had dropped it. There was a quick creak of the lid before a finger slid down between my cheeks. “Is it okay?”

  I gave him quick permission, begging him to forgo the usual readying, the foreplay unwanted, unneeded, as my only desire was to have him inside me.

  “Rand, I need you too,” I demanded, letting my head fall down between my arms. “Fuck me, please, I—”

  He silenced me by driving inside, pushing into me, a guttural cry torn from his chest. “Christ, Stef, you feel so good,” he groaned, stroking out, then in, pounding into my hole, making me yell his name. “You’re so tight and hot…. I just wanna be right here like this…. I never wanna be anywhere else.”

  “Rand,” I whimpered, writhing under him, urging him on, faster, deeper, and harder. “Rand… please—please.”

  But after the initial rush, he slowed, tender with me because even though I thought I wanted it rough and hard and fast, I didn’t. I wanted, like he did, to reconnect, and his closeness would reassure me, not being pounded down into the bed. And when I finally broke down, he pulled me into his arms and held me tight. Later, when we were tangled together so tight that it was hard to tell where I began and he ended, I fell asleep in his arms.

  THE FOOD was good, the man’s skin next to mine even better. I could not for the life of me stay awake after being made love to and eating. Even with the faraway sound of other voices, I still couldn’t lift my head off his chest.

  I woke up later alone, but I still was not able to open my eyes. When the door opened, I thought it was Rand until I felt the soft hand on my bare back.

  “Poor thing,” May H
olloway said softly.

  My eyes drifted open, and I turned my head without lifting it off the pillow. “You’re not mad?”

  “About what?”

  “Me… being here… in your son’s bed.”

  “No, darling, how could I be mad? You make Rand so happy, and I don’t have to guess what kind of man you are, because I know already. You’ve been in my life for over ten years, showing me your heart and how wonderful it is.”

  “I love you,” I said, sitting up fast, turning to grab her, squeeze her tight.

  She giggled. “Oh sweetie, me too.”

  “You’re not worried about Rand getting hurt?”

  “Hurt by you?”

  “No, by homophobic assholes who—”

  She snorted out a laugh. “If you get a bazooka, you can hurt Rand. Barring that, I’m not concerned. I’m actually more worried about Tate.”

  I leaned back. “I’m sorry, who?”

  “Tate Langley, my beau… he’s downstairs.”

  “Wait, I thought we were meeting him on Monday night?”

  “I know, but he got a wild hair up his butt and decided that today was the day, since it’s the six-month anniversary of our first date.”

  I smiled wide. “Aww.”

  Her answering noise of disgust made me smile.

  “He loves you.”

  “It would seem so, yes,” she said irritably.

  “But we’re not happy about this why?”

  Her hands were suddenly on my face. “I’m so sorry about Grace Freeman, and I’m terrified for you. My God, what would we do without you?”

  “No, no, no.” I brushed her hands off me. “Why aren’t we happy?”

  “Well,” she cringed, “what if he decides he wants to marry me?”

  “That’d be good, wouldn’t it?”

  “But then I wouldn’t be Mrs. James Holloway anymore.”

  I let out a deep sigh. “It doesn’t mean that at all. You’ll always be the wife of the father of your children, but he’s gone, and do you really think that he would want you to be alone when you have so much more love to give?”

  Her bottom lip quivered. “I loved Rand and Charlotte’s father with all my heart. I wanted to go into the ground with him when he passed.”

  “I know you did. I remember.”

  She put her hand on my cheek. “You see, this is what I mean. We have history already, you and me. You being with Rand—how could you think I would object?”

  I sighed. “I wonder what Charlotte will think?”

  “I think Charlotte will either be over the moon or devastated.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “Because her brother will know something about her best friend that she never will,” she said. “Charlotte is never going to be in bed with you, Stef, and knowing that Rand is… as ridiculous as it sounds, as unreasonable… she’ll be crazy jealous.”

  “God, she will.” I looked at May. “You know your daughter well.”

  “I should hope so.”

  I tipped my head toward the door. “So you’re comfortable leaving your new man downstairs with your son?”

  She jerked like she’d been struck with lightning. “Oh my lord, what was I thinkin’?”

  I chuckled, watching her rush from the room.

  After a quick shower, I changed into a pair of khakis and a baby blue short-sleeved collared shirt. I wanted to be presentable to meet May’s gentleman caller. I didn’t mess with my hair as much as normal, figuring that it was more important to hurry up and get downstairs. Since I couldn’t find any clean socks, I went barefoot. When I walked into the living room, Rand and Tate were playing with the Wii. They stopped the game immediately.

  “Sorry,” I said, walking over next to Rand. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

  “You’re… not,” he said quickly, swallowing hard, licking his lips. “You sure you should be up, Stef? You had quite a—”

  “I’m fine,” I said. “Can I play the winner?”

  He nodded, looking me up and down, and I stared at him until he looked away.

  “Okay, so lemme introduce you to Tate Langley.”

  Mr. Langley was fifty-eight to May’s sixty and had three daughters and a son of his own. He was just thrilled to meet me, and his warm handshake let me know that the feeling was genuine. He was a handsome man, shorter than both Rand and me, with pale blue eyes and silver hair. He told me that he had an insurance business in Lubbock and a car dealership in Amarillo. I told him that it must be nice to sell the car and then insure it. I liked the wink I got in return.

  Dogs barked, and the screen door opened as another cowboy walked into the living room. The man was lean and lanky, handsome in a classic way, with deep-set eyes and chiseled features.

  “Chris,” Rand said.

  “It looks like Mr. Langley’s family has arrived.”

  He nodded quickly. “Show them in.”

  Chris looked over at me, touched the brim of his hat, and turned back for the door.

  “I didn’t know he could talk,” May said as the screen door banged shut. “And he actually acknowledged you, Stef—alert the media.”

  I was going to say something, but May suddenly gasped.

  “What?”

  She ignored me, turning instead to Tate. “Did he just say that your family was here?”

  “Yes.” He smiled wide. “I was telling Rand that I would love him to meet my family soon, and he said that there was no time like the present, so I got on the phone and invited them on out here. Isn’t it wonderful?”

  She looked like she was going to pass out.

  I cleared my throat. “Have you even met his family yet?” I asked May.

  “No,” she barely got out, quickly turning a very sickly shade of gray.

  I tried not to smile as I led her over to the bookcase. “Quick, shallow breaths,” I advised her, showing her, modeling it so she’d know what to do. “Funny, I figured at sixty this kinda shit wouldn’t happen anymore.”

  She swatted me hard.

  I laughed at her, and she did it again.

  Tate Langley’s family was just as attractive as he was. His daughter Sophie was stunning, her husband Eli charming, his daughter Amanda was crisp and flawless, his son Tristan looked like he should have modeled suits in a magazine, and his daughter Candace, the beauty of the whole bunch, took one look at Rand Holloway and decided what she wanted for Christmas.

  Her lovely copper-colored eyes slid over Rand from head to toe, and she started gushing about the ranch.

  I arched an eyebrow for May. “She likey.”

  “Stop.”

  “What?”

  “Oh good heavens.” She sighed, walking to Tate’s side when he called for her, still doing the semi-Lamaze breathing that I was making her do.

  “Who knew that was gonna come in handy again, huh?”

  “You’re an evil thing, Stefan Joss.”

  This was not news.

  I darted into the kitchen to pull out some of the leftovers from Charlotte’s rehearsal dinner. There were still platters of barbecued beef and pork left over, and I went to work preparing a salad. The baked beans just needed to be warmed up, and the potato salad and coleslaw that Rand had bought for lunch were added to my menu.

  When the door swung open, I was surprised to find Tristan there.

  “Hi,” I said.

  “Hello.” His smile was huge as he crossed the kitchen to me. “I’m Tristan.”

  I shook the hand he extended for me. “I heard your dad introduce you.”

  “And you are?”

  “Oh, Stefan, sorry.”

  “Stefan,” he repeated, covering my hand with his. “It’s a real pleasure.”

  I nodded as he released my hand.

  “You need some help?”

  “That’d be great.”

  He was articulate and funny, and as he was a marketing manager for a PR firm, we had a lot to talk about. When his sister Amanda poked her head in and a
sked if she could lend a hand, he told her no before I could say yes. She gave me a perfunctory smile and left the room.

  “I hope she didn’t feel shafted,” I told him.

  “Amanda’s just being Amanda. She wants to see if I’m making any progress in here.”

  “I’m sorry?”

  He looked at me oddly. “Stefan, you must know, I didn’t just come in here by accident. I followed you in here.”

  “Well, that’s very flattering.”

  He slid closer to me. “You are without a doubt the most beautiful man I have seen in a very long time, and I would be remiss to let an opportunity like this slip by.”

  “An opportunity like what?”

  “To ask you out.”

  I smiled slowly. “Oh, okay, well that’s a very nice offer, and normally I would take—”

  “Don’t say no,” he said. “You have to eat. Let me take you out—I know some great places in Lubbock that—”

  “I’m sure,” I told him, “but I’m seeing someone right now.”

  He leaned close and grabbed a handful of my ass. “You are going to look so great in my bed…. I can’t wait to see your skin next to my sheets.”

  It was not the cheesiest line I had ever heard, but it was right up there. Someone somewhere had done the man a grave injustice at one point and told him he was smooth. It was like the people who auditioned on American Idol because their “friends” said they could sing. You’re sitting at home wondering, Why? I try never to humiliate anyone because it’s bad karma just waiting to happen, but this was a day on which I had almost been killed. I was not in possession of my usual emotional stamina. Between Rand’s upheaval of my life and nearly being gunned down, I was slightly unhinged. All I could do was put my head back and laugh. I should have thanked him for the release, because laughing was certainly better than the alternative.

  “What the hell is so—”

  “What’s goin’ on in here?” Rand asked as he strode into the room, Candace close behind him. “What’re you doin’?”

  “I’m cooking,” I gasped, wiping at my eyes with the back of my hand, the tears from laughing blurring my vision. “And Tristan here is entertaining me. He’s funny as shit.”

  “Is he?” Rand scowled, walking up beside me, his hand on the back of my neck, massaging. “Well, that’s right neighborly of him… to entertain the help.”