Not the most romantic or generous of utterances, but it did the trick. Jordan heard a rustle and then the tearing of condom and lube packets before Russ filled his needy hole in one long smooth glide.
Jordan reared up, placed one palm on the slab of wood mounted to the wall in lieu of a headboard, gripped Russ’s hip with the other, and began to move. Obviously getting the hint that this wasn’t going to be a slow, gentle fuck, Russ pulled out and slammed back in while Jordan thrust his ass back, meeting every stroke. Russ rode him hard, grunting and swearing as drops of his sweat dripped onto Jordan’s back. Jordan hadn’t been kidding that he was ready to lose it, so it wasn’t long before his balls drew up, he arched his back, and yelled, shooting his load all over the sheets. Russ grunted behind him, slammed into him a few more times, and froze. Russ’s grip on Jordan’s hip was hard enough to leave marks, but Jordan only sighed happily as Russ pressed lazy kisses to his shoulders and the back of his neck between panted breaths.
With a groan, Russ pulled out and flopped onto the mattress. After removing and getting rid of the condom, Russ closed his eyes, but Jordan gave him a little shake.
“Not yet, sleepyhead. Come on. I’m not sleeping in the wet spot.”
He dragged a half-conscious Russ over to the second bed in the room. He stripped off the shiny, hideous comforter and pilled polyester blanket underneath and tucked Russ between the sheets before crawling in after him.
THE CLOCK on the nightstand between the beds told him it was barely eleven when he woke from his little postsex nap. Russ was still out cold, but he was a quintessential morning person, so Jordan was used to that by now.
With a soft smile, he braced his fist against his temple, propped himself on an elbow, and gazed fondly at the sleeping man beside him. Obviously, he didn’t know much about boyfriends and all that stuff, but Russ had to be one of the better ones. Russ could be surly and short-tempered, but it was only because he cared so much. Jordan had spent his entire life being taught how to hide his feelings behind coolness and detachment, so that kind of passion took some getting used to, but damned if it wasn’t a beautiful thing to behold. His parents would consider Russ loud and common—low. But Jordan loved it. In fact, he couldn’t imagine surviving the last few weeks without Russ.
He was in a crappy, damp, musty hotel room, permeated by the faint smell of old cigarettes. The air conditioner sounded like a jet airplane. The sheets were cheap and scratchy. He was surrounded by some of the worst pastel “hotel art” he’d ever seen. He was lying on a mattress that would probably separate a few disks in his spine by morning—and he wouldn’t even go there about the bathroom… but he was happy as a clam.
I wouldn’t mind spending the rest of my life, just like this.
He froze. His breath stilled in his chest, and his eyes went round.
Holy shit.
He was happy—like really happy—happier than he could remember being since he was a little kid. He might have been wandering around for weeks, afraid to make any kind of decision about the rest of his life, but today, today he’d done something good, something he could be proud of.
He didn’t have a job, a home, or most of his family, but he had Russ… and Phyllis, and Jon and Ernesto—all really good people who cared about him—right now.
Struggling to breathe around the constriction in his throat as thoughts and feelings took shape inside him, he sat up and pulled his knees to his chest, staring blindly into the mostly darkened hotel room.
Maybe life didn’t have to be some grand future plan with degrees, letters after his name, and a career his father could be proud of. Even after the crushing blow his father dealt, Jordan had still been so intimidated by “What To Do with His Life” that he’d run away from even the thought of it every chance he got. He’d still been playing by his father’s rules in his head, looking at his future like his father expected—a career, an office in a big building, and a fancy condo or house in a trendy neighborhood to go to on evenings and weekends. But he’d had it right earlier, the ranch was life for Russ… and for Phyllis, Jon, and Ernesto, and a lot of other people. That was their home and their career, and Jordan didn’t think any less of them for choosing it. In fact, he admired them for it. So why couldn’t he live a life like that too? It might not be a six-figure salary with his name engraved on a brass plate, but it was a life, a good one, one he’d been happier in than anywhere else.
He took in a long breath and blew it out, trying to calm his racing heart.
Don’t get too far ahead of yourself.
No one had actually asked him to stay on permanently at the ranch, not even Russ. Jordan had made it pretty clear that he was only there temporarily. But he could talk to Phyllis about that, couldn’t he? He’d helped enough with the paperwork to know they couldn’t support another paid full-timer, but he could work around that. He was pretty good at the schmoozing and fundraising stuff. He knew a lot of rich, influential families he could contact to find more donors, and he could always take a desk job in the meantime. Two years of law school should be enough to get a job as a legal assistant or clerk or something. Though he shuddered to think about climbing behind a desk again, he could deal with it in the short term if it meant he could stay.
Swallowing his nerves, he tried to think of practicalities—like Russ had said, the things he could control rather than the things he couldn’t. Everything he’d been running from didn’t seem so scary anymore when he felt like he was running toward something instead of away. The half-formed thoughts he’d been pushing to the side weren’t quite so overwhelming when he looked at them in light of being able to stay with Russ and his newfound friends.
If they’ll have me.
Thrusting his nerves aside, he concentrated on the basics. As soon as he could get away again after they got back, he’d take a trip to Dallas to sell his car. He couldn’t afford the insurance on it anymore anyway. He’d get a cheap sedan of some sort to tide him over. He’d also pawn his Rolex and his jewelry. That, with the money left over from the car, should be enough to make a comfortable cushion until he found a paying job. He could always move the rest of the way into Russ’s room if Phyllis needed the extra space when they did the whole B and B thing. It wasn’t as if he spent much time in his own room anyway.
Russ had said this boyfriend thing would last until Jordan left. He might not have anticipated that being never, but things were going pretty well between them, weren’t they?
And if Russ doesn’t want you on a more permanent basis? If he’s only willing to put up with your crazy neurotic drama because he knows it’s not forever?
Jordan shook his head and stretched out beside his still-sleeping boyfriend.
Fuck off, he said to his father’s voice.
He couldn’t let it stop him. Russ and Phyllis and everyone else had been patiently waiting for him to make a plan. He couldn’t disappoint them forever.
This was it. This was the plan. He’d been hiding from it for weeks, and now he had it. It might not be the best plan ever, and he’d sort of fallen into it. A lot depended on the kindness and generosity of others, but he was willing to work hard to repay that generosity. Working with horses was something he loved and something he was good at. Everyone said so. He could do this.
HIS ALREADY shaky confidence waned a bit as the hours passed on their trip back the next day. Jordan couldn’t talk to Russ about it, not yet. He needed to see Phyl first. The ranch was hers, even if Russ was her right-hand man. Whether he stayed or not had to be up to her and had to be on his own merit.
He replayed what he was going to say to her, and to Russ afterward, so many times in his head, he barely heard a word of the audiobook he’d chosen.
“You okay?” Russ asked a couple of hours into their trip.
“Yeah. Just thinking.”
“Anything I can help with?”
Jordan squeezed his thigh. “I’ll let you know.”
“Okay.” Russ gave him a side-eye, but turned his attent
ion back to the road and continued on in silence.
By the time they arrived at the ranch, Jordan was too tired to even think, let alone have his big talk with Phyl. They’d left a little later in the morning than the day before, plus, with loading the horses and stopping every so often to check on them, it took a lot longer to get home than the drive out. It was close to quitting time when they pulled in, but Jon and Ernie stayed on to help them unload and get the new horses situated in their stalls. They’d be kept completely separate from the others until Dr. Watney could take a look at them, and after that, the four might be allowed into one of the fenced corrals so they could start introducing them to the herd.
Jon and Ernie hung around for a bit to chat about Bailey’s place and the trip, but it soon became obvious that neither Jordan nor Russ were up for much sparkling conversation, and the men headed home. As soon as Jordan and Russ’s plates were clean, Phyl shooed them out of the kitchen.
“Go rest up. Read a book if you’re not quite ready to go to sleep, though you look like you’re pretty much dead on your feet.”
“Thanks, Phyl,” Russ murmured, flashing her a tired smile.
“It amazes me how exhausting sitting on my ass all day can be. I mean, I didn’t even do anything, and I can’t keep my eyes open,” Jordan complained on the way up the stairs.
“It was all that thinkin’ you were doin’. Can be hard on a fella if he’s not used to it.”
At the top of the stairs, Jordan stopped and stared. Russ’s grin was broad as he playfully bumped his shoulder against Jordan’s on his way past. Glaring, Jordan huffed and followed him into the bedroom.
“You’re lucky I’m too tired to make you eat those words,” Jordan said before flopping face-first onto their mattress. The sheets were still mussed from the day before, and they smelled like Russ and home. He groaned and snuggled deeper.
“No, you don’t. Being tired is no excuse for wearing your boots to bed… which reminds me, we really should get you a decent pair of cowboy boots.”
Jordan flopped onto his back and started untying his bootlaces. “Yeah? Think I’d look sexy in a pair like yours?”
Russ’s grin was tired but full of warmth. “Baby, you’d look sexy in about anything, or nothing… and you know it.”
After kicking off his boots, Jordan shimmied out of his jeans without sitting up. A quick tug and his T-shirt went to join his jeans and socks on the floor.
“There’s a hamper in the corner, you know,” Russ grumbled without much force behind it.
“I’ll get it in the morning. I promise,” Jordan said around a yawn.
“Good.” Russ yawned too. “’Cause there’s no maid service, and I sure as hell ain’t picking up after you.”
Russ flopped onto the mattress next to him, and Jordan snuggled close. Phyllis didn’t exactly set the thermostat to a chilly seventy-two degrees in the Texas heat, like Jordan was used to back home, but he was willing to accept a little stickiness in exchange for skin-on-skin contact. Thankfully, Russ didn’t seem to mind, and they usually drifted apart sometime in the night anyway.
Usually it took Jordan forever to fall asleep, while Russ just dropped off like flipping a switch. That night Jordan barely remembered closing his eyes before Russ jostled the bed, climbing out just before dawn like he always did.
Chapter Twenty-Two
AFTER BREAKFAST there was too much to do before Jordan could have his talk with Phyl; at least that was what he told himself. He wanted to check on Marina and some of their other problem children. Plus, they had four new horses in pretty rough shape to deal with now, and Russ needed his help giving each of them a thorough examination and taking notes on problems to discuss with Dr. Watney.
Eventually, though, the rush of activity slowed to normal, and Russ moved on to his training sessions, leaving Jordan to his regular barn upkeep duties. Despite an attack of nerves, Jordan squared his shoulders, put his wheelbarrow and shovel aside, and headed for the house with a determined stride before he completely chickened out.
What’s the worst that could happen?
She could say no, and he’d lose his safety net.
But he wasn’t a child. In some areas, he might be almost as helpless and ignorant as one, but he had options. He’d rather not just leap from the nest, but he could if it became necessary.
Internal pep talk done, he marched up to Phyllis’s small office and knocked on the doorjamb before poking his head through the opening.
“Got a minute?” he asked when she lifted her head and smiled at him.
She pulled off her reading glasses and raised her eyebrows. “Sure, hon. What can I do for you?”
So this was what a job interview felt like. Not quite as bad as facing his father across the man’s carved mahogany desk, but still a little unnerving.
With a nervous swallow, he sat in the small wood chair in front of her desk and launched into his proposal, hardly stopping for breath.
“You want to stay on here, full-time?” Phyllis asked.
“Yes.”
Her brows knit. “Are you sure, hon? I mean, this isn’t exactly where you’re from, if you catch my meaning. And what about your folks and all that business back home? I know your mom’s gotta be worried about you. Now might not be the best time for you to be making big decisions.”
“If that’s all you’re worried about, don’t be. You may not know my father well, but believe me, I do. He’s made his decision. And even though I can hold out some future hope my mother or some earth-shattering event might change his mind somewhere down the road, I can’t plan my life around that. He’ll either come around or he won’t, but that makes no difference to the fact that I need to take control of my own life. I need to find a new direction to go in because the old one was wrong. I’m happy here, Phyl. I’m proud of what the ranch does, and I’m proud of being able to contribute to that.”
Her gaze turned soft as her tanned, weathered face crinkled into smile lines. “Thank you, sweetheart.”
“Look. I’ve seen the books. I know you can’t afford to bring me on as an employee right now, but like I said, I have ideas to help with the fundraising, and I’m willing to make improvements and updates to the blog and website, and find a job somewhere around here to pay the bills in the meantime. Hopefully I won’t have to commute all the way to Dallas every day, but I’m willing to, if it means I can stay on here with all of you. I’ll still put in all the hours I can at the ranch, to earn my keep. I promise.”
She pursed her lips, but her eyes were smiling at him. “We’ll need to talk to Russ before I give a final say,” she warned.
“I know. I’d like to talk to him alone, first. I just wanted to discuss it with you before I broached the subject, since, in the end, it’s your ranch, and I do think I can be useful here.”
“You already are, hon.” Her smile fell away as she studied his face. “You know, Russ isn’t as tough as he likes to let on. Once he gives his heart to somethin’, that’s it. He’s done. Whatever it is you two got going on really isn’t my business. But as a friend, I’m gonna ask you to think real hard before you make any promises to him.”
“I will. I have been.”
“You’ve got a lot goin’ on in the emotion department right now. I can’t pretend to understand all you’re feelin’, but are you sure you don’t want to take a bit more time to settle into your skin?”
Blowing out a long breath, Jordan shook his head and smiled ruefully. “My life’s been on hold for as long as I can remember. I can’t pretend to know what I’m going to want five years down the road, but at some point, I need to start living instead of just thinking about it. The last thing I want to do is hurt Russ. You have my word I’ll do everything in my power to keep that from happening, okay?”
With a sigh, she nodded and gave him a small smile. She opened her mouth, but whatever she was going to stay was cut off by the sound of tires on the gravel drive. Frowning, she stood and peeked out the window.
&nbs
p; “We’re not expecting any deliveries today,” she murmured. “Wonder who that could be.”
She came around the desk and patted him on the arm as Jordan stood. “Come on. You go have that talk with Russ while I go see who that is, and we can all get together over lunch after. How’s that sound?”
Blowing out a relieved breath, Jordan smiled. “It sounds great. Thanks, Phyllis.”
“Phyl,” she corrected.
“Phyl,” he said with a smile.
If he were a hugger, he would have totally picked her up and swung her around, but he wasn’t quite there yet… maybe in time.
Giddy with possibilities and butterflies in his stomach over the upcoming talk with Russ, Jordan almost plowed into Phyllis’s back on the front porch when she stopped dead at the top of the stairs.
“Oh Lordy,” Phyllis whispered.
Following her gaze, Jordan saw a young dark-skinned man in jeans and a green-and-white-striped short-sleeve polo striding across the gravel toward the paddock where Russ had been gentling Aubrey, a gray-and-white splotched palomino. As they watched, Russ hopped over the fence and jogged toward the man. The two collided in a hug, and Russ lifted the other man off the ground.
“Is that—” Jon asked from the bottom of the stairs.
“Yup,” Ernie answered, coming up to join the three of them.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Jon said with a laugh. “The one that got away came back for another go.”
“Jon!” Phyllis hissed.
“What?”
All three of them turned to look at Jordan. Phyllis gave Jon a pointed look, and the man actually blushed.
“Oh.”
With a sinking feeling in his stomach, Jordan cleared his throat and asked, “Who’s that?”
He tried to make it sound like he was only mildly curious, but the look on Phyllis’s face told him he failed miserably.
“That’s Isaiah,” she answered gently.
The Second Time Around Page 17
