Rocking the Cowboy

by Skylar M. Cates

  “Nicky’s over and has been over a long time. He’s the last person I need. Believe me.” If Nicky were messaging Buddy about him, it was because Nicky must have sensed drama.

  “Yeah, but you haven’t dated much since,” Buddy pointed out. “And you were both young and have done some growing up. Besides, it was fan gold. When you came out, your fans were so supportive, and it was really a great moment, an honest moment,” Buddy pushed. “And the way they adopted the two of you as a beloved gay pair. They adored you! Calling you guys Nemy… and the fan fiction they wrote—”

  “Can you stop? Or are you forgetting Nicky went on to fuck me over?” Remy barked. “I don’t want to relive all that bullshit.”

  “Sorry.” Buddy had the good sense to look sheepish. “It just was good for business. And Nicky’s new song is hot right now. It’s number three on the Billboard and climbing!”

  Remy’s mouth thinned. “Whatever.”

  Nicky was a tool, and Remy was done with relationships.

  Before Nicky, Remy had done the usual—booze, cheap sex, pretty boys with underwear model careers and good abs—but when the alcohol and late nights began to affect his voice, Remy got frightened and stopped. He put all his energy into his work. Right when Remy was launching the start of his solo career, Nicky had pursued him. It had taken Remy a while, it wasn’t a love match at first, but eventually he’d fallen for Nicky’s persistence. When they first met, Nicky didn’t look like a star in the making. He’d had this round face and nervous smile. Remy had befriended him on the set and helped him dress better and move better on stage. And when Remy became his lover and Remy helped Nicky as far as he possibly could, Nicky had no more use for him. What Remy had thought was real, Nicky had seen as an alliance. Afterward, Remy didn’t trust guys for shit. He proved himself through his music. He focused on his European tour, which ended in Athens….

  Jesus fucking Christ. He might only be twenty-five, but Remy felt ancient.

  He swung his feet off the front seat and straightened. “Let’s move on to bigger questions. Like where the hell I’m headed.”

  “I have a place in mind. It’s isolated and a good place to recover. I’m afraid it lacks culture. No Indian food or fancy salons. No clubs. Not even a strip mall.”

  “Sounds like an alternative universe,” Remy said.

  “Might as well be. It sure the hell felt like it to me.”

  “Where is this magical land? Now you got me curious.”

  “Do you remember the summer we met? I took you home for two weeks to my family ranch?”

  “That’s where we’re going?”

  “That’s it.”

  “I remember it. Your kids were a few years older than me.”

  “Yeah, Melanie and Jed.” A wistful look crossed Buddy’s face, but he quickly shook it off. “My ex is in Portland with Melanie and her kids, but Jed is there on the ranch. There’s nothing but land for miles. It’s perfect.”

  Remy couldn’t help flashing on an image of Buddy’s son, Jed. God, Remy hadn’t fully admitted he was gay, not even to himself, not until that summer, seeing Jed, so rugged and capable, riding up to them on a horse. One look at Jed’s piercing blue eyes and extremely broad shoulders and he’d been a goner.

  “I don’t know if this is a perfect solution.”

  “Got a better one? You need to rest in privacy and get your damn mojo back already to make yourself happy, right? And I need to keep the press and sponsors happy. Not to mention clueless. Lisa did a hell of a job spinning Athens, right? Nobody blames you for that… unfortunate shit. But enough is enough. We don’t want Dove or other sponsors backing out. So we’re doing this.”

  “What about your son? He’s agreed?”

  “It’s fine. Jed is handled and won’t say anything. Don’t worry about it.”

  “I guess it’ll be okay. As long as you’re there.”

  “Me?” Buddy chortled. “Hell, I can’t go with you to the ranch.”

  “Why not? It’s your son and your plan. What the fuck, Buddy? You’re leaving me there?” To his embarrassment, his voice cracked slightly.

  “Jed won’t want me. Believe me, kid, this is better for all involved. And despite the ranch being remote, we should take a few precautions. If you really need privacy? We could cut those famous golden locks of yours to a buzz cut, get you some Western clothes.”

  “Buzz cut? I’m not going into the Army.”

  Of course, if Remy’s career tanked, he might give entertaining the troops a try. Hot soldiers and all.

  God, what a joke. He was too numb to fuck anything lately, hot or not. And he was sick of waking up with somebody who didn’t give a shit about him as long as he signed an autograph and posed for a selfie.

  “It’s your signature look,” Buddy replied. “The first thing everybody recognizes about you. Well, besides that singing voice of pure honey.”

  “Cut my hair?” Remy held up a thick strand between his fingers. “How will I do my fabulous hair flip?”

  Okay, so he was vain and only partly kidding, but man, this whole fucking plan was getting worse and worse. He should continue to hide out at home, only leaving for his therapy session. On the other hand, the press hadn’t given him enough privacy, not with helicopters circling overhead for glimpses of him.

  “As long as you grow it back in time for the Dove commercials.” Buddy grinned. “Chop those curls, Goldilocks.”

  “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

  “Maybe a little.” Buddy’s face grew serious. “One more thing, Remy. No contact with your mom and Aunt Marina for a few days. Don’t fly out there or anything, okay? That’s the first place reporters will go. What did you tell them about this trip?”

  “Just that I’m delaying my concerts for a rest. Sort of the truth.”

  “Sort of.”

  Remy flinched. “I couldn’t say any more.”

  His folks had Remy in their forties, where he’d been their happy surprise after years of infertility. Growing up, they were old enough to be his grandparents, a fact that had never bothered Remy until his father died when he was twelve. That was also when the bullying began. Remy shut his eyes. He used to write songs for himself back then, when he was down or lonely or lost in grief.

  “You okay, pal?” Buddy frowned at him.

  “Yeah, yeah, I’m good.” Remy pulled at the strings of his woven bracelet, a gift from his old hippy aunt. She had made him several in various color combinations. Lately, he’d gotten into a bad habit of unraveling them, pulling apart the threads.

  “You sure? You look kinda pale. Are you eating? Sleeping?”

  “I’m just… thinking about my mom.”

  It wasn’t a total lie.

  His mom and aunt’s idea of excitement was a night of Chinese food and a bargain movie, not fighting off tabloids looking for a scoop. They were everything to Remy. He had no one else, and he wasn’t going to worry them.

  “So I’ll arrange the new tour dates and the Dove commercial. Right?”

  Remy wanted to say no, don’t.

  But he said nothing.

  His life was coming apart. And Remy had no clue what to do to fix it.

  AFTER leaving Buddy and Frank in the limo, Remy headed to the private jet for boarding. He held Oscar’s carrier in one hand while a cart full of luggage and his guitars were loaded onto the plane. So okay, he was going to hide out until this crap got resolved, despite preferring to stay in a city, which he loved, and not some desolate ranch.

  As Remy boarded and greeted his private attendant, he thought of Buddy’s son. Jed didn’t resemble Buddy. He had his mother’s dark hair and blue eyes. Intense blue. Jed hadn’t been exactly handsome in the traditional sense, but when that direct gaze had focused on Remy’s for the first time—God, no girl ever made his dick as stiff as Jed Riley had within minutes of being introduced. And on top of that, Jed had been kind to him at a time when Remy had desperately needed kindness.

  He’d been so anxio
us to impress Jed. Remy had had few interactions with the outdoors. Jed seemed to live and breathe nature. Remy—artsy, scrawny, younger—hadn’t impressed Jed one bit. Imagine that.

  Not that it stopped Remy’s dick from pointing upward every night. That entire summer, the days were hot, but Remy’s nights were hotter. He set records in how many times he jerked off those nights. And he took a whole lotta cold showers every morning. Buddy and his wife had teased him for being so fastidious about showering. Jesus, if they had only known why.

  Fuck it. Jed Riley was a lifetime ago. The minute Remy found fame, he took full advantage of it, earning his wild reputation. Before Nicky, he hadn’t even recalled their names. A thought occurred to him. Was this the bitch of karma? Was the music deserting him as payback for being a shallow prick? But he wasn’t that guy, not anymore.

  Back then, trouble had already been brewing in the Riley family. Even Remy sensed the tension between Buddy and his wife, so it was a weird time to be a guest on the ranch. Buddy had taken Remy with him because that was the summer Ma became a widow, and Buddy had stepped in, offering to take Remy, making Ma forever grateful. Later, when Remy hit the big time, there was no question Buddy would stay his manager. As he recalled, Buddy was supposed to show Remy how to ride, but he was usually holed up making phone calls. That was when Jed had been kind and brought Remy along. Ignoring that Remy was puny and shy, Jed had chased off any taunts from the other boys and included him. At home, Remy had no escape from his tormentors, who two months after his father had died, sensed Remy’s despair and attacked… but at the ranch that summer, there had been Jed….

  Remy went on to be cast in a new Disney production, High School Heroes, a musical show where the kids all sang or danced, and the show led to fame and fortune. It also led to Nicky and all his lying bullshit. Remy had never looked back. He had been young and vulnerable when he first met Jed, but now he had seen and done things as a star that left a hard knot where his heart should be.

  Fuck, time for some champagne.

  The flight attendant grew giddy when Remy asked her for help buzzing off his hair. Or maybe it was being so close to Remy? Although, from her demeanor when Remy boarded, she was clearly used to the rich and famous. No, it must be she liked the idea of cutting his hair, given that she had her own hair spiked into decorative swirls laced with streaks of blue.

  Whatever. Remy was chugging bubbly and didn’t care. His face would still be recognizable, but Buddy wasn’t wrong to say his hair was a big part of his image. As the attendant held the razor to his neck, Remy wondered what his mom and aunt would say, but it seemed the smartest thing to do. Although he was expected to stay in seclusion at the ranch, he might run into locals now and again. And maybe, just maybe, cutting off his hair would free him somehow. It had been his character on the Disney show who was supposed to be a long-haired, singing surfer dude, not Remy who’d wanted it, but over the years, who Remy actually was and who he was required to be had blurred. When was the last time he’d done anything not centered on stardom?

  “Ready?” the attendant asked with a wide smile. Despite the growing chasm of numbness inside him, Remy returned her smile with a big pasted-on grin. “Sure, why not. I’ll still be gorgeous, won’t I?” He winked.

  The haircut followed. Remy asked the flight attendant, whose name was Kristy, questions about her life. He listened to her trouble with a sister who always competed with her while growing up, and her plans to save money and buy a condo for herself and her young son. As far as flight attendants went, Kristy was funny and cool. Remy even relaxed a little as she talked. The champagne helped too. Pretty soon, she took a step back and held up a mirror.

  “You like it?”

  “Sure, I look fucking awesome.” Remy ignored the mirror.

  He offered a generous tip that made her jaw drop. “For your future condo.”

  “Thanks! And you like the haircut?” she asked, pocketing the money.

  “Love it, sweetheart.”

  He didn’t, really. Remy felt exposed without his hair. But he was good at pretending. Giving everybody what they expected. Some days he was so good at it Remy nearly believed it himself.

  AFTER trading his champagne for some espresso and enduring a bumpy flight, Remy landed in the small airport and rented an SUV that would take him the rest of the way to Diamond Creek. Arranged by Buddy and paid for with discretion, Remy easily left the airport with no trouble. Some days Buddy was worth every cent he paid him. Speeding along, he got there in no time. Remy liked his fast and flashy sports cars better than the SUV. But when was the last time he’d taken one of his cars out for a spin? Or even driven himself anywhere?

  He blasted some head-banging heavy metal and accelerated. Surprisingly, the SUV had a good pickup, so good that he watched the speed as he neared town. The last thing Remy wanted was the paparazzi getting wind of where he was before he even got there.

  The town itself, if you could call three main streets a town, was like a throwback to the gold rush era. They deliberately tried to keep a Western look, with wooden buildings that boasted signs like Tucker’s General Store and Murphy’s Saloon and Restaurant. Remy supposed it had charm so a person didn’t mind that everything closed by nine o’clock. An old-fashioned clock stood in the town square, as if everybody didn’t have watches and cell phones, and the town was full of American flags proudly displayed, from the barber shop to the library; the entire town was a sea of red, white, and blue. Kids pedaled their bicycles without supervision to the ice cream shop. There were no visible fast-food joints or cell towers, although they had to be someplace hidden away from the main town. Maybe on the highway just north of here?

  Remy couldn’t imagine no Burger King or Sprint stores. He did see one small Walmart, not a super center, and a Home Depot. He supposed the cobblestone sidewalks and neatly kept shops were cute. If memory served, the ice cream was rich and delicious too. But where would he buy a decent latte? Where would he pick up his favorite lube that did not come from Walmart? Compared to the swanky, expensive stores and late-night shops of LA, Diamond Creek was another planet.

  Remy glanced around as he drove across the town toward Jed’s place. He couldn’t deny the scenery was beautiful, especially the rugged mountains. He slowed down enough to look. The sunlight highlighted everything as he drove. Lowering his window, Remy inhaled the fresh air. Maybe some time in nature, away from the craziness, would be just what he needed?

  The ranch was quite a distance from town. The road became a dirt one. Remy no longer had time to wonder how he’d get his daily comforts or appreciate the beauty of the land; he had to focus on the GPS and maneuvering the twists and turns.

  Just like my life. Twists and turns. He could navigate the road, but he couldn’t figure out his own shit.

  Even when he found the ranch, the acres and acres of land made Remy wonder where the main house was, already. The one time he’d been here, he had slept on the drive. Or maybe being a kid, he’d not paid attention? In any case, Remy didn’t remember this much land. Maybe Jed had expanded?

  The house was well cared for and lovely, and Remy smiled at the wraparound porch, which had been his favorite spot to read or play his guitar during that summer visit. Then his smile faded. Getting even one chord right was like pulling teeth these days.

  Remy parked and stood just outside the porch. He was looking around, hands on his hips, when the front door flew open with a bang.

  Jed Riley—with a decidedly sour look stamped across his face. He stood there forbiddingly, dressed in old jeans and a flannel shirt, his muscles defined as he crossed his arms at his chest, his shoulders wide. Just like that, Remy’s long-ago attraction returned in a hot, messy rush.

  It was the first real feeling Remy had experienced in months.

  Chapter Three

  REMY Sean eyed him in a way that made Jed uncomfortable, as if he were a prime piece of horseflesh. Then he went to hug Jed or something. That kind of casual affection was way out of Jed’
s comfort zone. Pop stars and their like might be all touchy-feely, but Remy would have to learn quickly this might be California, but it wasn’t Los Angeles.

  Remy took the hint, dropping his arms and swinging them at his side like a pendulum. He wore a bright purple T-shirt and tight jeans that sat low on his lean hips. He had short hair, not his famous long locks, but it only made Jed notice the silver hoops in his ears and how high his cheekbones were in relation to those full lips and dark, soulful eyes.

  Remy smiled at Jed fully, expectantly.

  What was he expecting? Jed to kiss his ass or something?

  Remy Sean must have guys dropping to their knees over him in five seconds. Jed sure as hell wasn’t going to be one of them. He had no use for the shiny pop star standing in front of him where he didn’t belong.

  “Hi, Jed. Good to see you.”

  Jed nodded curtly. “Hey.”

  “Beautiful place you got here. The drive was amazing.” Remy smiled easily. Too easily. It looked practiced.

  “I like it,” he said flatly.

  “And is that the barn?”

  “Main one. Mares are there. Got another one round the back of the house for my studs.”

  “Is that where I should put my things?” Remy asked. Then when Jed didn’t respond, he shrugged. “Too soon for stud jokes?”

  Jed seriously doubted Remy cared about the working of his horse ranch and his plans to expand his breeding program. He doubted Remy took anything seriously.