by A. M. Arthur
Miles had been super grateful when Mack’s best friend, Reyes Caldero, stepped in and put an end to it all. And whatever Reyes said to Dallas, the texts and calls had ended.
“Stop,” Miles said, not in the mood for this sort of teasing. “Reyes was being a friend, and it worked, because Dallas hasn’t bothered me in months.”
Until last night.
“Good,” Wes said. “If he does, let me know, so I can sic Mack and Reyes on him.”
Miles conjured up a believable smile. “I will.” A yawn caught hold, and Miles tried to hide it behind his hands. God, he was exhausted.
“Hey, why are you home so late, anyhow?”
Miles shrugged like it didn’t matter, but his pulse still jumped with anxiety. “Had a flat, so I needed to put the spare on.”
“Really?” Wes gave him his full attention, and Miles realized what he’d said. “Why did you drive? You never do that.”
“Felt like it.” Miles strode into the kitchen and pulled an open bottle of wine out of the fridge. Tonight was a glass of wine night. Maybe two.
“You felt like driving eight blocks to your job instead of taking the bus?” Wes had followed him into the kitchen, damn it. “No other reason?”
“What other reason is there?” Miles tried to keep his hand steady as he poured wine into a glass. Success there, but he hadn’t modulated his voice enough, and now Wes was openly suspicious.
“Miles, I know you, and I can tell when you’re keeping something from me. Did Dallas call you again?”
He put the wine bottle down too hard, his good mood over the new job gone. “Fucking yes, okay?”
Wes crowded into his personal space, anger in his blue eyes. “What did he say?”
No way was Miles admitting to the note on his car or his mysterious visitor at work. “He texted me once, okay? He asked if I was ready to talk to him again.”
“What did you say?”
“I ignored him like I always do. I’m fine, and I don’t need you meddling.”
“Hey, I’m trying to look out for my friend. The first moment I met Dallas I knew he was bad news, and I don’t know what went down on your birthday but you’ve been different ever since. I flat-out don’t trust the guy, and I’m worried about you.” Genuine fear had crept in over Wes’s initial anger.
Miles hated it when his friends worried about him. “Look, I know you don’t like Dallas, and yeah, he can be a little overbearing, but he’s not a violent guy. I’ve never seen him get into a fight or hit anyone in his life.”
Violence isn’t just hitting, and you know it.
Wes crossed his arms. “He grabbed you at the club.”
“Grabbing my arm is a far cry from hitting me. I promise, if this escalates, I’ll tell you.”
Liar.
“You’d better,” Wes said. “Ugh. For the record, now I’m extra-super-glad you’re moving to Garrett. You can leave that creep behind once and for all.”
“Yes, I can.”
More and more, quitting his job at the dinner theater and hauling his life out to the ranch was sounding like his best plan ever.
Only six or so weeks, and I’ll be free of Dallas forever.
Except for in his nightmares. Those he always carried with him.
Chapter Two
“So when’s the housewarming party?” Reyes Caldero asked as he leaned against his dresser and watched his best friend finish packing up his shit. Again. His fingertips brushed the stack of ranch polos Mack was leaving behind, along with his old job as head cowboy.
Mack put a pile of folded jeans into a suitcase. “Trust me, Wes has been bugging me about that, but we’ve compromised on waiting until after the ghost town opens in a few weeks. We all need to get settled into our new roles and living arrangements before he starts party planning.”
“Hey, party planning is how you two met.”
“Yeah, I know.” Mack grinned. “One flirty, blond actor stumbles into my life and look at me now.”
“Happy, in love, and moving in with the guy. Good on you for finding that again.”
“Yeah.”
The first time he and Mack had been roommates was in their early twenties. Mack was fresh from the police academy, Reyes was officially a firefighter, and neither could afford Los Angeles rent on their own in any decent neighborhood. A few years later, Mack was packing up his shit to move in with Geoff.
This time, Mack was packing up his shit to move in with Wes.
Which was totally cool by Reyes this time, because neither one of them paid rent for the two-man cabin they shared behind the main house at Clean Slate Ranch. The long row of cabins housed the majority of the ranch’s staff, save a scant few who lived in town. Offering rent-free accommodations and meals saved overhead in the long run for Arthur Garrett, because he could pay his staff less, and they still made enough for a decent savings account.
Reyes lived a modest life at the ranch, and he’d been stockpiling his extra pay the whole six years he’d lived and worked here. Wasn’t sure what he was saving for, but he had it for when he knew.
Mack turned, his expression sad. “Is it weird that I’m a little terrified of moving in with Wes?”
“Nah. Spending the night is a far cry from living together full-time.”
“It’s not just that. I did this with Geoff and then I lost him. I don’t think I could take losing Wes, too.”
“You won’t.” Reyes knew better than anyone he couldn’t make that promise, but he had to say the words for his friend’s sake. “You two are going to be a cranky old married couple one day, hobbling through that ghost town griping about your aching bones.”
Mack’s face lit up. “I like the sound of that. And you’re sure you’re okay with Miles moving in next week?”
“Of course, I told you I’m fine with it.”
I am absolutely not okay with this, but how can I explain it to Mack in a way that makes sense?
“I mean, Miles seems like a pretty quiet guy,” Mack said. “And you’re usually a quiet guy, so I guess you won’t annoy each other too much.”
“We’ll be fine.”
This is going to be an unmitigated disaster.
Mack snapped his suitcase shut, then gazed around the room, now empty of any sign the man had ever lived here. “Well, this is the end of a fucking era, huh?”
“Life goes on.”
“Yeah.”
Reyes’s throat tightened, so he cleared it hard. “I’ll just have to take Hot Coffee out for more evening walks so we can still sit on your porch and drink beer.”
“Yeah. Sounds good. Bring Colt along once in a while.”
“Will do.” Reyes was forever grateful that Mack and Colt had repaired their broken friendship. Colt was family to both of them, and even though Colt had recently reconnected with his blood relatives in Texas, he needed his ranch family just as much. Same way Reyes needed his family here.
He’d never had a big falling-out with his own blood family, but Reyes kept his distance out of shame over the teenager he’d once been. For all the damage he’d done a lifetime ago that he’d never been able to forgive himself for, because he didn’t deserve forgiveness for the life he’d helped destroy.
For both lives, far past and near present.
“I don’t know why this is so hard to do,” Mack said, his voice rough. “It’s not like I’m moving across the country. It’s less than a mile.”
“Because we got each other through some serious shit these last six years, and it’s all been in this cabin. You mourning Geoff, me healing from my burns. The fight with Colt last fall. Lotta memories here.”
“True. Why don’t you drive up to the house with me? Miles is there helping Wes move his stuff in. You guys can talk about living together.”
That is a very bad idea.
“Yeah, okay.” Reyes didn’t have a compelling reason to say no. It was after four on Saturday, so that week’s guests were gone. The next crop wouldn’t arrive until ten o’clock tomorrow morning, and they’d accepted the new week’s grocery delivery. Reyes was technically off the clock, and it wasn’t as if he ever had Saturday night plans, anyway.
“Sure, okay,” he replied. “You got beer?”
Mack chuckled. “Stocked up the fridge on a shopping trip yesterday.”
“Then let’s go.”
Reyes carried a box, while Mack lugged his suitcase. They added both to the two other boxes already in the bed of the pickup. Mack had left the bulk of his life with Geoff behind when he left LA, and he hadn’t accumulated much over the years here. He could easily handle the move on his own, but Reyes wanted to spend more time with his brother.
He drove, while Mack lounged on the passenger side of the bench seat, one booted foot up on the dash. Comfortable and happy to be taking this new step in his life, and Reyes wished him all the best. Mack had been in love with Geoff years ago, but he fucking shined around Wes. Something about Wes brought out the younger, more carefree side of Mack that Reyes hadn’t seen in a long damned time.
Halfway down the main ranch road that led to town, the gravel road to Bentley Ghost Town appeared, and Reyes turned. A few hundred yards up, a new dirt driveway marked by a big Private Property, No Outlet sign led slightly downhill toward the tree line. The distance from the road gave the new home privacy against what they all hoped would be a booming tourist trade.
Wes’s and Miles’s cars were parked by the porch, both trunks open and both still half-loaded with Wes’s stuff. He hadn’t wanted to part with a lot of the decorations, and Mack had hauled some of the furniture yesterday. Reyes had visited Wes’s apartment a handful of times, and he was curious how Wes’s Boho-flea-market-chic style would mesh with Mack’s more subtle tastes. Especially since the pair had chosen to build a two-story home with a log cabin exterior that screamed deer heads and camouflage print.
The house had a huge open floor plan with the living room center stage, a rectangular dining table behind it near a long row of tall windows that faced the woods, and a kitchen tucked to the left beneath the loft. A short hallway led to two bedrooms and a downstairs bathroom. The second floor was the master suite, a big loft overlooking the rest of the house with a private bathroom. Reyes loved the layout enough to consider cribbing it if he ever decided to build a home of his own.
Wes’s bright prints and patterns were scattered tastefully among simple brown leather living room furniture, but the place was also a mess of unpacked boxes. Miles poked his head out of the kitchen to say hi, and his shy smile punched Reyes in the gut.
Very. Bad. Idea.
“Is that Mack?” Wes shouted down from the loft.
“Yeah, that’s Mack,” the man in question hollered back.
“Need you a minute!”
“In the bedroom?” Reyes asked. “You trying to set a speed record up there?”
Wes appeared over the railing. “Not for that, but now that you’ve given me the idea...”
“We’ve got guests,” Mack said. “We can play later, boss.”
“I still need you. I’ll behave.”
Mack sighed, pretending to be put out, and climbed the stairs to their loft. Reyes watched him go, then fetched the other boxes from the pickup. When he finished, Mack was done with whatever Wes needed help with, so they assisted Miles in unpacking the cars. Nothing was labeled, which was very Wes, so they spent a lot of time figuring out where things were supposed to go.
Reyes was the unfortunate victim who discovered their adult toy collection, and he quickly handed that box off to Wes for delivery to the loft.
“Don’t look so scandalized,” Wes said with a huff. “Like you’ve never played with a rubber dildo.”
As a matter of fact, he had not ever played with a dildo, but Wes didn’t need that kind of personal information to lord over his head. At some point, Reyes found himself alone in the kitchen with Miles, attempting to organize the cupboards that Wes would probably reorder later.
“Pots and pans down there, so they’ll be easier to get to,” Miles said. “That drawer will work best for the extra utensils that aren’t in the countertop holder.”
Reyes dutifully followed direction, since Miles was the pro cook in the room. He’d know best how to set up a kitchen. They hadn’t spoken directly in the couple of weeks since being asked if they would live together, and now was a great time to discuss it. But Reyes flailed for any real conversation topics, which wasn’t usually like him.
Then again, he wasn’t often in close proximity to a guy he was genuinely, strongly attracted to. He’d felt the attraction the first night Miles and his friends stayed at the ranch, during Sunday night’s big welcome barbecue. The soft-spoken young man had crawled right under his skin, charming him with stories about his job between careful bites of his burger. Reyes had watched him from a distance all week, curious about the thin layer of exhaustion and anxiety that Miles had carried with him.
The problem seemed to have fixed itself until recently—today Miles had a lot of that old fatigue and fear back, and Reyes couldn’t find a way to ask about it. All he knew was he wanted to fix it for Miles, make him smile somehow. Miles had a dimple on his left cheek that peeked out when he smiled.
When Miles bent to move something in a lower cabinet, Reyes couldn’t help but ogle his ass. Miles was on the skinny side of slender, with long, willowy limbs, and a taut ass that filled out his worn jeans nicely. He was also the kind of boy-next-door cute Reyes had always found incredibly appealing.
“Dude,” Wes said, “are you staring at Miles’s ass?”
Reyes jumped. Miles jerked upright and turned, almost tripping over his own ankles in his haste. Reyes reached out to steady him before he fell, and that turned out to be a huge fucking mistake. The oddest feeling zinged up Reyes’s arm where he touched Miles’s skin, and he didn’t understand the flash of fear in Miles’s eyes—oh no. Reyes was holding him just like that asshole Dallas had a few months ago.
“Sorry,” Reyes said as he let go.
Miles shook his head. “It’s okay, Wes’s voice startled me is all.”
“You know, you two are kind of adorable together,” Wes said. “And now you’re going to be liv—umf.”
Mack had come up behind Wes and planted a hand right over his mouth. “Leave them alone or you don’t get a spanking tonight.”
Reyes quirked an eyebrow. Mack just smirked at him.
Okay, I don’t need to know some things.
“Do not get Wes started, please,” Miles said. “He doesn’t understand the word boundaries, and I can’t unhear certain things.”
“Definitely not interested in details,” Reyes replied. “Mack, I will muzzle him if you can’t.”
“He’ll behave.” Mack nipped at Wes’s ear. “Right, boss?”
Wes nodded vigorously behind Mack’s hand, so Mack dropped it. “Right.”
“Come on, we’ve got more unpacking to do before dinner.”
“What are we doing for dinner?” Reyes asked. “Driving back down to the ranch?”
“Nah, I’ve got some pizzas in the freezer,” Mack replied. “Figured Wes and I would be too busy settling in to cook much the first few days.”
“Hopefully, we’ll be too busy christening every room in the cabin,” Wes said with a gleeful smile.
“Lord, you.” Mack bent down and expertly threw Wes right over his shoulder. “Need to find a horse trough to dunk you in.” He strode toward the front door, which got a surprised squawk out of Wes.
Miles started laughing. “God, those two are hilarious to watch sometimes.”
Reyes grinned at that lone dimple. “They can be a hoot. Little jealous of their setup here.”
“Yeah, the ca
bin is pretty great. Really spacious. Um.”
“What?”
“How big is the cabin we’re sharing? I’ve never been inside one before.”
“Nowhere near this big, but we’re not cramped. Got a small sitting area that’s separated from the bedroom, so there’s a bit of privacy. You’ve got your own bed and dresser for clothes.”
“Oh, okay.” Miles seemed relieved. “I mean, they didn’t look all that big from the outside, but I guess appearances can be deceiving.”
“They can.” They stared at each other a beat, and the gentle humor in Miles’s eyes was like a wakeup-call to Reyes’s groin. “I’m, ah, going to see if they’re ready for us to heat up some pizza. I’m a bit hungry.”
Reyes beat a fast—if cowardly—retreat from the kitchen, then tried to hide near the loft stairs so he could get his damned head together. Today had only shown him in living color how attracted he was to Miles, and he needed to turn that off. Miles needed a friend and a roommate right now. A completely platonic roommate. Period.
Except that dimple...
He stifled a groan. Maybe he needed his own horse trough to dunk his head in.
* * *
Miles stared at the spot where Reyes had been standing a few seconds ago, a bit turned around by their interaction. Not only had he been surprised that Reyes was checking out his ass—according to Wes—but the warmth of Reyes’s touch still lingered on his skin. Miles hadn’t enjoyed someone else’s touch in a long damned time, and he usually avoided physical contact, even friendly bro-hugs from Wes. Reyes had startled him when he grabbed his arm, yes, but it had been a steadying hold, not one meant to scare or bruise. Once his body got over the initial shock, he’d instinctively known Reyes was safe.
That did not mean they were ever going to date, no matter what big ideas Wes had about it.
Miles turned the oven on, assuming the others would be on board with eating soon, then finished unpacking the last of the kitchen accessories. Even though the bulk of their shared apartment kitchen had been Miles’s stuff, he was moving into a cabin with no kitchen, so he’d given most of it to Wes. Better someone use it than it sit in storage for however long.
