Rocking the Cowboy

by Skylar M. Cates

  “What?” Remy yawned and stretched, his covers on the floor “Crap, it’s early. Couldn’t my chores begin at noon?”

  “Why are you…? This is a ranch, not a nude spa.”

  Jed couldn’t remember the last person he saw naked. It had been that long since he’d had a man.

  Remy grinned and shrugged. “I always sleep in the nude.”

  Remy stretched his arms over his head. A deliberate gesture Jed was sure, and he swallowed hard as Remy stood. Jed let his gaze drift back and move downward over Remy’s body. Jed took in his slender frame, gracefully sculpted muscles, flat abdomen—before forcing his gaze to go no lower. Freezing, Jed didn’t know what to do. It had been so long, so terribly long, since anybody had…. But hell, this wasn’t anybody. This was a famous star amusing himself at Jed’s expense. Last night, Jed had been convinced Remy might be sincere, but now he felt suspicious again. God, he hated feeling this unsure, this stupid. Worse, he was standing there in front of Remy, paralyzed.

  Remy lifted his eyebrows. “Interested?”

  “I’m not that desperate,” Jed barked.

  “Your loss.” Remy’s fingertips reached high into the air, and he inhaled in a loud sniff. “I was taught to never be ashamed of my body. My father was an artist, and my mom was his model when they met in art school. We had nude sculptures all over our house. And there are all the crazy naked parties in Hollywood.” Remy flashed him a wicked smile. “No room for modesty there.”

  “I don’t have time for parties. I work. And while you’re here, so will you.” Jed scowled. “Or did you not mean your promise to do chores?”

  Remy’s smug look replaced Remy’s annoyed expression. “I meant it.”

  This was ridiculous. Jed stepped away.

  “Be out front in ten minutes,” Jed ground out.

  Chapter Four

  HELL. Those were some intense looks.

  If Jed had stared any harder, Remy might have gone up in smoke. Who knew Jed possessed such heat? Or that he was gay, apparently? Sure, Remy had fantasized about it. Hoped. But to see it for real…. Fuck. It was like being back in high school and finding out the prom king wanted him.

  Not that Jed would have ever been a prom king. Remy chortled at the very idea. Jed was all tough angles and unsmiling lines. He had a bit of a beaky nose, like a hawk, and his jawline was almost too pronounced. No smoothness or polishing with Jed. His looks were rugged, honest, not pretty—exactly what Remy had always been drawn to.

  He didn’t need much of a push in wanting to see if he could get Jed to stare again. Those serious blue eyes and that stubbornly set mouth were invitation enough.

  All right, so Jed hadn’t been the only one staring….

  Remy stood still as Jed slammed the front door. He’d been flirting as a way to keep his mind off the heaviness he was carrying. He hadn’t truly expected it to offer any results. All he could think now was fuck yeah.

  He had dated moguls and handsome movie stars, but it didn’t matter. Jed, with his whip-hard body, his dusty clothes and Stetson, still got to him like no other.

  There was just something about a cowboy. He liked Jed’s scruff, which wasn’t maintained by a hip salon, and he liked the way Jed moved, as if every step shouldn’t be wasted.

  Remy examined his clothes, knowing Jed would be waiting. At home Remy had a personal shopper who took notes from Remy and then filled his closet. Everything from bright stage costumes to tight club wear to endless stylish sneakers were all neatly arranged for him. Remy had people to fret and fuss over him down to the last detail. Buddy, Lisa, and others took care of Remy’s every decision until now. Since he was thirteen, Remy had been instructed on where to stand, how to act, how to sing, where to tour, what to do…. And he was grateful. Those people helped him climb higher and higher, reaching the very top of fame and fortune. But what goes up must come down. Even with all his staff and supporters, the inevitable plunge down had Remy’s stomach dropping.

  He fingered his silver-studded tank and stretchy black yoga pants. What had he been thinking there? Definitely that outfit was not for ranch work. He was going to have to do better. Be more practical. Starting now. Thankfully, he found a pair of jeans and a simple white T-shirt, but only one of each. He’d have to wash it daily, or fuck, he might actually have to go to Walmart. Yeah, that would be easy.

  Remy laughed at the absurdity of the situation. At least he looked dressed normally enough for ranch work. Normal sounded pretty good. Maybe Buddy was right about his needing this break. He could screw up and it wouldn’t make headlines, not here. He didn’t need makeup or wardrobe. He didn’t have to be perfect for once, or worry about the crowds. He could pick his own fucking shirt and pants out. His choice. And nobody to care.

  As he left the bedroom, Remy’s step grew lighter. Being away from all his problems was helping.

  And Jed made for a good distraction. Being around real people, even just Jed and his dog, might be what he needed. Jed wouldn’t expect Remy to smile incessantly or pretend everything was great. Remy could do charming—he knew how to do sexy, warm, and likable too—but he didn’t have the energy for it anymore. So he liked how Jed wasn’t impressed. How he loathed everything about Remy that others adored. Because if Jed watched him, wanted him, it wasn’t fake.

  At his approach, Jed looked him up and down, his mouth pinched with displeasure.

  “Nice of you to finally show up,” he grumbled.

  “I aim to please. Ask anybody I’ve dated,” Remy replied cheerfully. He was amused to see how his remark bothered Jed. Did nobody ever tease this guy? Jed’s face went scarlet, and he dug his fingers into his thighs.

  Of course, Remy couldn’t resist pushing a little more at him.

  “I forgot to ask how much you’re paying me for my labor.” He grinned.

  “What? But you offered,” Jed protested. He was adorably confused.

  “I’m not cheap. And maybe I should charge you double for making me get out of a nice warm bed this early in the morning. Shame to leave a good bed. It being big enough for two and all.”

  Jed blinked. Then his confusion stopped, and he snorted. “You’re a piece of work.”

  “I’m sorry. But you made it too easy.” Remy smiled sheepishly.

  For a moment Remy hoped he’d break into a smile, but Jed merely grunted and turned away, leaving Remy to follow. Jed was clearly one of those super-punctual types, which nobody in the music industry ever was. Remy needed four or five steps to keep up with Jed’s one. He led Remy through some instructions about caring for the stalls front to back and then how to clean the chicken coop before turning to walk away.

  “Wait!” Remy grabbed his arm. “You’re not staying here?”

  “You’re not capable of shoveling manure? I thought that was a requirement in Hollywood.” Jed raised his eyebrows. “I got my work to do. I do mine and you do yours. You offered to help, right? So help. This isn’t babysitting.”

  He left abruptly. Clearly just having Remy around got on Jed’s nerves.

  Remy grinned. It didn’t deter him at all. He could think of a million ways he’d liked to remove that uptight stick from Jed’s ass.

  CHORES had seemed a good idea last night. However, when Remy entered the barn, he conceded his grand intentions and big mouth might lead to disaster. He stood near the door with his body poised for escape. There were two rows of stalls in the stable. The hay had a surprisingly sweet smell, but the horses didn’t. They looked beautiful and well cared for, their coats gleaming, but Remy wrinkled his nose at their scent. He was glad Jed told him to skip any occupied ones. What did he know about horses? While he liked all animals, he preferred Oscar and spent his free time lazily, lounging on his bed with Oscar at his side, strumming his guitar or drawing for fun.

  Going to the first empty stall, Remy began to shovel. Flies came out of nowhere and tried to land near his eyes. Maybe they thought Remy was a new type of horse? Remy bent awkwardly as he shoveled, and soon his knees throb
bed and his knuckles ached where he gripped the shovel’s handle too hard. He muttered a curse under his breath. He never had these aches and pains playing his guitar onstage. By the hour’s end, Remy was a complete, dirty mess. Grime and sweat were his two best friends. He was sweatier than the day he attended that Sun Love concert in Phoenix and the temperature had climbed to one hundred and two.

  He rubbed a hand to his temple, only to realize a pungent odor accompanied it. He had shit on his fingers. Horse shit. Remy glanced down to see more shit on his overpriced T-shirt, his jeans, and clinging to his sneakers, and he had to laugh. Well, he’d sure as hell gotten what he wanted, hadn’t he? Remy was far from the jet set and the crowds.

  The barn door swung open. Remy tensed, sure it was Jed about to witness his crap-stained failure.

  “Hello,” a stranger said. He was a chunky guy with a quick, friendly smile. “I didn’t know anybody was here. I’m Elliot Frazier, the local veterinarian, and you are…?” His eyes widened. “Oh!”

  “Hi, I’m Remy.”

  “Wow, you really are.”

  “Yeah….”

  “Like, you’re really him!”

  “I know.”

  They stood there a moment—Remy soaked in sweat and stained with manure, and Elliot starstruck and immobile. Remy hoped Elliot wasn’t about to reach for his phone and snap a picture.

  But Elliot recovered quickly, merely saying, “Jed asked me to check on the mare and colt.”

  “Oh, um, I think he took them out to the pasture.”

  “I’ll go there. Thanks. You know, I don’t listen to a lot of pop music, but I like your stuff.”

  “Thank you. Elliot?”

  “Yes?” Elliot still had a slightly dazed look.

  “I’d appreciate it if you kept my visit here private.”

  “I can do that, sure.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Not so sure Amy can. And Hayley might go crazy. Totally crazy. She has all your CDs.”

  “Amy and Hayley?”

  “My fiancée and her daughter. She’s Jed’s housekeeper. She comes on Fridays.”

  “Oh, okay.”

  “And Hayley usually tags along with Amy. Want me to give them the heads-up?”

  “That’s nice of you. Maybe I can give Hayley an autograph or something.”

  “That’d be terrific. Man, she’ll go bananas. I can’t promise she’ll give you a moment’s peace on Friday, even if I warn Amy.”

  “I’m used to teenage girls and all of that. As long as she can keep it offline.”

  When Elliot just kept nodding and staring, Remy gently cleared his throat. “Well, I should get back to it.”

  “Sure thing. I’ll go find Jed.”

  After Elliot left the barn, Remy had one more task to do—gather eggs from the chicken coop. He sure hoped the vet’s promise of privacy could be trusted. The world didn’t allow privacy anymore, especially for the rich or famous. Remy got that this was the price he’d paid. He knew the press would publish any story they wanted, and he would have to deal with it… just not yet.

  Remy was vain sometimes, but this went deeper than his flaws. He hated how fractured he’d become, and he wasn’t ready for the judging questions, as if they could understand being on that stage in a full-force panic.

  With his mouth set, he tackled the job of cleaning the chicken coop. A rooster was in the outer pen strutting back and forth, and two chickens were loose in another, pecking at each other’s feathers, so Remy could see their skin underneath. Who knew chickens were such disgusting birds? He might never visit KFC again. He quickly did the job, cleaning the cages and gathering the spotted brown eggs.

  There. It was done. He inspected the chicken coop. Jed couldn’t find fault now, could he? To Remy, it looked like a job well done, but Jed’s standards might be different. His house was spotless. Everything he did was full of efficiency and purpose. Except maybe his cooking? Jed had surprised Remy with his delicious homemade bread and stew. He’d expected canned corn or a frozen dinner. At home, Remy had the pizza delivery service on speed dial. Jed had acted nonchalant about his cooking, but his telling blush had given him away.

  Maybe Remy’s normal snarky jokes and empty flirting was not such a great idea with Jed? Every time he’d done that, Jed had eyed him with suspicion. Remy lowered his head in thought, and his gaze centered on his manure-stained sneakers.

  Remy refused to smell bad any longer. He deserved a hot shower, and his expensive deodorant could only last so long. He’d have to decide about Jed later.

  Whistling, he headed for the house. Manual labor was rewarding, he had to admit. He wondered what the ranch was like in winter when it got bitterly cold. Was Jed out there tending his chickens and horses, dressed in heavier flannel and an overcoat? Did he cook when he had nobody to cook for? Did he sit near his fireplace and allow himself to enjoy the warmth? Remy reached the front of the house with no insight, only that his memories of Jed as a crush would have to be put aside. He would have to figure out the real man now.

  Oscar was perched on the porch railing, licking a fat paw. He was a cat who enjoyed the sun, and today was no exception as he sat on the sunniest area instead of in shadow. Hagrid lay near him on the dusty floor, a small amount of drool at his mouth, panting. All that fur, Hagrid must not love the heat as much as Oscar. But it was Hagrid who hoisted himself up for an enthusiastic greeting. Oscar merely meowed once at Remy and then returned to his paw.

  “Inside, he’s doing backflips over me,” Remy told Hagrid.

  Hagrid wagged his tail in agreement.

  With a small huff, Remy padded barefoot to the laundry room. He didn’t really do much laundry. Even before stardom, it was his mother’s domain. He wrinkled his nose as he peeled off the offensive clothes and gingerly tossed them into the mouth of the giant washing machine. How much soap did he add, exactly? Remy tossed in one Tide pod and then another. Cranking the dial to a small load setting, he hoped it would do the trick.

  After Remy showered, he went back outside and looked for Jed. Since his one ranch-appropriate outfit was full of crap, Remy had no choice but to change into one of his “normal” outfits. He loved bling, glitter, and color, but he wouldn’t love ruining his clothes as he did ranch chores.

  Jed was still out in the pasture working with the gangly red foal. Elliot must have left, because Jed was all alone. It struck Remy that Jed seemed the type used to being that way.

  “Cute,” Remy remarked as he walked over to where Jed stood, only the fence separating them. “He have a name yet?”

  “Nope.”

  Jed raised his eyebrows as he took in Remy’s Hakuna Matata crop top, golden jacket, and stretchy black pants.

  “Have you seen the Lion King?” Remy gestured to his shirt. “‘Hakuna Matata’ was always my favorite song from it.” Hell, if he wore it, he might as well own it all the way. “I got no worries.”

  “Glad to hear it.” Jed’s tone was flat, but his mouth twitched at the corners.

  “And you can’t go wrong with Elton.”

  Jed’s broad shoulders lifted in a shrug, as if to neither confirm nor deny the power of Elton John.

  Remy watched as Jed approached the colt, murmuring something to him. Jed’s ass sure looked good in those jeans. Maybe all he needed was a good fuck? If so, Remy saw no reason not to oblige him. It might do them both some good. God, he was exhausted of pretending to be fine. Maybe they could just lose themselves in bed together? Would that be so bad?

  Jed was skimming his fingers down the colt’s legs. Gently. So gently.

  “Why’re you doing that?” Remy asked, fascinated to see how Jed stroked the colt.

  “I’m getting him used to some human touch.”

  “What else will he learn soon?”

  “He just spent eleven months inside his mama and then had a tough birth, so he has to adjust some. But in his first year, this little colt will learn to become more desensitized to my touch. I’ll start him on some training
, but I don’t use the word breaking. I don’t do it like that. I look for signs from him. Like if he lowers his head for the halter or is calm when I invade his space.”

  Jed’s face lit when he talked about his horses. He looked sexy as hell. Remy liked how Jed was clearly enthusiastic about what he did.

  “Watch this.”

  The colt whinnied for his mother a little as Jed put himself between them and continued to stroke the colt. The colt backed away a few steps, unsure.

  “See, he’s not there yet.” Jed persisted, but with soothing, light touches. He cradled the colt in his strong arms, keeping him still. Then Jed let him go to his mother.

  “Will he fight the harness when you get it?”

  “Maybe somewhat.” Jed removed his hat and wiped his forehead.

  As he watched the colt, Jed cracked a small smile.

  Stupidly, Remy stared at it. Why did Jed’s smiles matter so much? Christ, okay, the man had a mouth made for hot kisses, but that wasn’t all of it. Remy’s heart craved the approval that went along with the smile.

  A shiver of awareness spread through Remy.

  “I bet your nieces will flip over the colt.”

  “I guess. They’ll see him here before the wedding. Melanie is getting married at the end of the month.”

  “Here? At the ranch?”

  “This is home.”

  A small pang went through him at the easy way Jed said that. Since his dad died and his career became his entire focus, Remy wasn’t certain he had a home. His mother was amazing, the best of mothers, but he could hardly think of her retirement villa as home.

  “Afterward she and her fiancé and the kids are all going on the honeymoon.”

  “Really? That’s a bit unconventional.”