by Sean Michael
That stubborn, fucking cowboy was sitting on the porch, smoking and talking to Ben. They were at the end of their first week without Jack and Val and not an inch closer to deciding what to do.
He grabbed a handful of root beers and headed out to join them. “Hey.”
“Hey.” Ben gave him a smile, the boy looking more and more like his father every day. Christ, he could remember when Ben was a newborn, and now the kid was a teenager.
Cash tipped his head in Brad’s direction. “Evenin’. The kids in bed?”
“They are. I’m hoping they stay there till like noon tomorrow.” He grinned, knowing it was a pipe dream. “How’re you doing, Ben?”
Ben shrugged his skinny shoulders, light blue eyes that matched Cash’s staring at Brad. “I’m okay. Talking to Uncle Cash.”
Brad leaned against the porch railing. “Yeah? Good. Talking’s good.”
“I guess. Uncle Cash says we’ve got to think about going back to school, about what all we’re going to do.”
“Yeah, he’s right. I know it seems kind of harsh, but life goes on, and you’ve got to get back to it.” They all needed to move forward, see past what had happened.
“Right. Back on the horse and all.” Ben crossed those long thin arms. “So which one of you is leaving?”
“What makes you think someone’s leaving, Ben?” Brad wasn’t going anywhere, and he didn’t think Cash was planning on ditching the kids anytime soon. Which, if he was honest with himself, he was glad about. While he could maybe understand why Val had six kids, he couldn’t imagine having to look after them on his own.
“What? Both of you have lives, both of you have jobs. What? You’re going to split us up?”
“Nobody wants to split y’all up, honey,” Cash said. “Neither one of us.”
“Cash is right. Nobody is splitting you up. The six of you are more important than anything else, okay?” God, how long had Ben been worrying about this?
“So, what? What are you two going to do?”
Cash sighed. “We’re trying to work that out, honey.”
“I’m not a kid. I need to know.”
“What else do you need, Ben? What do you want to happen?” Brad knew what he wanted, knew what Cash wanted. He figured it was only right Ben let them know what he thought.
“I….” Ben looked at him, eyes panicked and wide. Then Ben looked at Cash. “I want them back.”
Cash nodded. “No shit, but all the wantin’ in the world ain’t gonna make that happen.”
“I know.”
Ben wavered, and Cash lit another cigarette. “Then you need to buck up, son, and set your mind to what comes next. That’s what your daddy’d tell you, yeah?”
“And his mother would tell him to take his time and make sure he thought through all the angles.” Brad gave Cash a look. “The kids have four months before school’s out. How about we give them those four months here without worrying about everything changing again? When summer comes, we can look at it all again.”
“We’ll talk about it. Right now, you need to get in there and shower, son.”
Brad held back his sigh. Cash was going to fight him on this tooth and nail, he could tell.
And it wasn’t that he was against dragging the kids down to Texas—all right, it wasn’t exactly on his top ten list of things he wanted to do—but he really thought what they all needed right now was to stay where they were and just be for a while. Find out how they all fit together to make this strange family work before more curve balls were thrown at them.
Ben headed in without another word, and Cash turned toward him. “First of all, don’t you fucking undermine me in front of those kids again or I will knock the living shit out of you. Two, I wasn’t talking to the boy about taking him back home. And three, you and me and that lawyer man need to talk and make some fucking decisions.”
Brad growled. “Fuck you, Cash McCord. You’ve been wanting to take those kids away since you found out you shared responsibility for them.”
“I want to take them home. I have land, space, cattle. Horses. It’s a good place.”
“They are home. Do you really think uprooting them and taking them three thousand miles away is going to help them deal with their parents’ death?” Cash had to back off about this. Now.
“This isn’t home, Goddammit. Jack never thought so, not once.”
Oh, that asshole. “Setting aside the fact that it was his home, that his wife and kids were here, those kids in there have never known anywhere else as home!”
“Fuck you—Ben and Belle are the only two who’ll even remember it here in a year. Shit, it’ll be a fucking miracle if Beth remembers Val and Jack, much less some house!”
“You seem to keep forgetting that you don’t have sole guardianship—they’re my kids too, Cash, and I won’t have you stealing them away from me!” That was not in the cards. Ever. He might complain about how hard it was having six kids dumped in his lap, but he wouldn’t give them up for anything.
“I’m not trying to steal them.” Those bright, pale eyes met his, serious and still. “I swear to God, this ain’t about you. That ranch… that’s been in my family for generations. I know you don’t care, but one day it’ll be Ben’s, if he wants it. I can’t lose it.”
“So go home. Run it from here. I don’t care. I know you say it’s not about me, but I’m those kids’ uncle and their guardian, so yeah, it’s about me as much as it’s about you.” He wanted to shake Cash. Was going to any minute now.
Cash stood, tossed his cigarette down with a growl. “I never said I wanted to run, you overstuffed, pompous fuck.”
He met Cash head on. “Try listening—I said run it from here. It—your stupid ranch.”
“It’s not stupid, fuckhead, and you don’t run a ranch from forever away, and goddammit, I’m trying to have a fight with you!”
Brad snorted. Cash wasn’t a small man by any means, but Brad had several inches and quite a few pounds on him. “You always pick on people bigger than you?”
“You couldn’t hold your own in a fight, man. You’ve spent your whole life behind a fucking desk.”
“You really are trying to have a fight. You want me to throw the first punch? Because I will—you’re starting to really piss me off!” Goddamn, but Cash was an asshole.
“Am I supposed to be scared?”
“You’ve got about two seconds to change your fucking lunatic mind.” A fight was sounding pretty damned good right now.
“Don’t be a pussy, man. Either back down or fight me.”
“Oh sure, I throw the first punch and you sue me. Right?” He wasn’t that pissed off. Yet.
“Sue you? I’m not a fucking Yankee, asshole. You throw the first punch, and I’ll clean your clock.”
Brad put both hands on Cash’s shoulders and shoved him back, following. “Redneck asshole.”
“Bossy goddamn Yankee.” Cash hardly moved, all those lean muscles pushing right back.
“Stupid, fucking cowboy.” Brad shoved harder, a snarl coming out from somewhere deep inside him.
“Smartassed, overeducated desk jockey.” Cash’s chest slapped against his, jostling him.
He shoved back. “Fuck you, Cash.”
“Like fucking is ever going to happen again, asshole.”
“I’m staring at the same dry spell, jerk.” Brad shoved Cash again, a glimmer of satisfaction going through him at making Cash take a step back.
“You mean your office isn’t filled with pansy asses looking for a bathroom blowjob?” Cash looked like he was having fun, for fuck’s sake.
“Is that why you want to go back to Texas? So you can find a cowboy to ream that pretty little ass of yours?” He shoved again, gaining another step.
“Like any of you bastards up here are man enough to do it.” Cash grabbed him, shook him a little.
“Fuck you,” he said again, pulling his arm back and punching Cash in the jaw.
Cash’s head snapped back, and for a s
econd Brad thought the man would go down. Instead, Cash landed a shot to his gut, hard enough that his breath huffed out of him. He would’ve doubled over, but Cash was too close, and he wound up bending into the guy, bumping his head on Cash’s shoulder.
Brad landed a gut punch of his own, sweeping at Cash’s feet with his right foot. He got popped in the nose, good and hard, as Cash went down. He went down too, straddling Cash and punching the man in the jaw again.
He was dripping blood onto Cash’s shirt and starting to feel a little woozy. Cash groaned, fists crashing into Brad’s chest, hips rolling up as he tried to shove him off. Brad was nearly unseated too, but he pushed down and managed another less-than-accurate punch to Cash’s shoulder.
“Fuck you,” Cash growled, eyes bloodshot, as he grabbed Brad’s wrists.
“I thought we’d decided that was never happening for either of us again,” he shot back, jerking against Cash’s hold. Damn, he was dizzy—could you get dizzy if you weren’t standing?
“Go to hell.” Cash shook him good and hard, a sobbing sound rocking him. “You go to hell.”
“You first,” he muttered, feeling like his teeth were rattling in his head.
When Cash let him go, he sort of collapsed onto Cash’s chest, breath whooshing out of him.
Cash went still, heart pounding against Brad. “Fuck.”
“Christ,” Brad panted. He’d get up and off Cash. In a minute. When he caught his breath. Besides, it served Cash right that Brad’s nose was bleeding all over him.
“Yeah.” Cash’s jaw was swelling up, bruising. Christ. Brad had done that. Not only that, he was still lying on top of Cash.
With a groan, Brad rolled off, lying on his back next to Cash. Shit, the veranda was hard. “Feel any better?” he asked.
“Yeah.” Cash nodded, breathing hard. “I fucking miss him, man. I miss both of them.”
“I know. She was my big sister. She’s always been here. Always.” And it hurt like fuck that she was gone.
“Yeah.” The word sort of hung there.
He reached out and squeezed Cash’s arm. The muscle went tight and hard, then Cash reached over, squeezed Brad’s hand, and held on. They lay like that for a while, until the porch became untenable beneath his back.
“I might need help getting up.”
Cash chuckled. “You’re assuming I’m not sleeping right here.”
Brad laughed and then sobered when he looked over and caught sight of Cash. “You’re covered in my blood, man. The kids will freak out if they come down tomorrow and find you like that.”
“Yeah. They’ll freak out tomorrow when we both look like hammered shit.”
Damn, he hadn’t thought of that—he hadn’t been in a fight in a long time. “What are we going to tell them?”
“There’s always the truth.”
“That their uncles pounded the shit out of each other?” Brad wasn’t sure that was going to be very reassuring to anyone.
“It won’t be the last time it’ll happen.”
He shot a look at Cash and then started to laugh.
Cash gave him a crooked grin in return, his pale eyes dancing. “Just think, at least Ben’s skinny; when Branson’s old enough to fight us, we’ll be old, and he’s a husky little shit.”
Man, Cash looked kind of sexy all beat up like that. If Brad wasn’t so damned tired and starting to ache as badly as he was, he might be in danger of getting turned on. “I’ll make sure to send him to you whenever he gets himself all worked up.”
“Pussy.” Cash gave him a wink and another grin.
“Don’t make me hit you again.” He grinned back and then groaned as he slowly sat up.
“Come on. Let’s make some coffee and settle in for the night. The kids’ll be up wanting breakfast early.”
“You’re assuming I can get up.” He echoed Cash’s words from earlier and then disproved it by getting up. “You get the coffee started, and I’ll dig up the Tylenol.”
“Yeah, the Tylenol and a bag of frozen peas for your face.”
Brad nodded and then winced. “I think you might have broken my nose.”
“Lemme see.” Cash walked right up to him, wiggled his nose. Fuck. Fuck, that hurt. “You’re good, man.”
“Ow!” Brad backed away, glaring. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“Nothing. It’s not broken.”
“Well, it hurt like a sonofabitch before, and now it’s worse.” He poked at the rising bruise on Cash’s jaw. Oh man, there was hard swelling going on there.
“Don’t make me hit you again, now,” Cash growled.
Brad chuckled. “I don’t think either of us can handle any more punches today, cowboy. Come on, frozen peas for two.”
“No shit.” Cash nodded, leading Brad into the house, looking like a blue-collar wet dream.
He licked his lips and told his prick to stop that. Cash was here for the kids, and so was he. Just because that ass was the sweetest-looking thing he’d seen in an age…. He bet Cash’d be a sweet fuck too—strong and eager, that mix of macho and yielding.
How his cock could be that hard while his nose hurt as much as it did, he didn’t know.
Brad was staring at that ass hard enough he nearly ran into Cash when he stopped.
“You good, man?” Cash opened the door, ass bumping Brad’s prick as he stepped back from its outward swing.
Brad bit his lip hard to keep his groan quiet, but there was no way he could answer without sounding as turned on as he was. Cash swiveled toward him, and the door bumped into him as it closed, pushing them closer. Brad pressed against Cash, his cock rubbing Cash’s hip.
“Christ.” He blinked into Cash’s eyes and couldn’t help groaning. Without thinking, he reached for Cash’s arm.
“Fighting turns you on, does it?” Cash sounded sexy as all fuck.
“No, I….” Bending, he pressed their mouths together.
He ignored the pain and concentrated on the taste—blood and cigarettes, coffee and pure man. Cash grunted, tongue pushing into Brad’s lips as hungry and aggressive as could be. Brad wrapped his own lips around it, sucking hard, sliding his hand to the back of Cash’s head to tilt it a little.
God, that felt good, pain and all.
Cash was hard and strong against him, backing him around against the wall beside the door, one thigh pushing between his legs. If it hadn’t felt so goddamned necessary, he would’ve wrestled Cash for dominance, but that thigh was in the right spot, and he humped against it like a dog, holding Cash in place as he took over the kiss, sweeping his tongue through Cash’s mouth.
Cash grabbed his ass, slid his mouth over Brad’s jaw. “This is a terrible idea.”
“The worst,” Cash agreed, hips still working, Brad’s hard-on rubbing against that muscled thigh. “We should stop right now.”
“Uh-huh.”
Fuck, Cash’s hands felt good. He could feel Cash’s prick against his belly, and he slid his hands down to get a double handful of ass and squeeze. The answering groan was sweet as fuck as Cash’s teeth scraped along Brad’s jaw. Brad panted, knew it wasn’t going to be long before he came. God, it felt like forever since he’d done this, since that phone call.
Whimpering, he humped harder, wanting it, needing it.
“Come on. Come on, man. Let go,” Cash urged.
Oh fuck. Yes. That low, growling demand dragging along his nerves was what Brad needed. He grunted, growled, and jerked as he loaded his jeans.
Cash nodded, kissed Brad’s neck. “Shit, yeah. Just like that.”
“You now,” Brad demanded, pushing his hand down between them and palming Cash through his jeans.
“Oh fuck me. Yes.” Cash went up on tiptoe, rocking into Brad’s hand.
Brad watched Cash’s face, pushing hard and quick against Cash’s prick and squeezing the ass he’d been admiring such a short time ago. He was right—Cash gave in to pleasure better than anyone he’d ever known. He kept his hands where they were. Cash’s cock
and ass seemed to fit perfectly in his palms.
“Close.” Cash groaned, fingers squeezing Brad’s shoulders, eyes rolling.
“Yeah, wanna see you when you come.” Brad pushed harder, Cash’s cock turning to steel beneath his hand. He bet it was hot too, and he suddenly wanted to hold it. But this would do.
He could feel Cash’s prick jerk, jump against his hand. Cash’s knees wobbled. He moaned, bruised cheeks flushing dark as he came. Brad held on, keeping Cash upright, leaning against him as he watched the pleasure transform that beaten face.
Wow. Just. Wow. He’d just… they’d….
Cash breathed against his ear. “Shh. Don’t think. It’ll fuck everything up.”
Brad laughed, his head hitting the wall as he leaned back. “Yeah, I imagine you’re right about that.”
“I am. Man, I haven’t creamed my jeans in forever.”
“I don’t think I ever have.” And it was icky now, wet and sort of sticky, and he was thinking again because much as he wanted to stand here and hold Cash, he didn’t know if that was a good idea.
“We need to shower.”
They needed to talk. Hell, Cash was still sleeping in Jack’s office.
But…. “Waste of water to take turns,” Brad pointed out. They could talk later. Cash was the one who’d said not to think, after all.
“Yeah. And shower sex rocks.”
Brad stood away from the wall, pushing Cash back a few steps, though he still had one hand wrapped around Cash’s ass. “Let’s do it before I start thinking.”
“Or before the kids catch us.” Cash pulled him toward the stairs.
“Shit, yeah.”
They took the stairs together, heading for the big bathroom off the master suite, and Brad didn’t let himself think at all—aside from imagining what Cash’s ass was going to look like without those jeans.
“It’s weird, being in here….” Cash headed through the bedroom, moving toward the bathroom.
“Yeah… but you’re thinking. No thinking, Cash.”
It was a sweet bathroom. A big claw-foot tub sat in one corner, a huge shower across from it—more than big enough for two. They made a beeline for it.
They stripped down, Cash finishing right before him and starting the water. “Hot?”
