A boom of familiar thunder sounded, indicating a bad storm hovering over the ranch, but a louder noise woke him. A screeching, tortured sound.
Jed rushed out of his bedroom toward the sound. Oscar was wedged in the corner of the living room. His ears were back, eyes dilated. The hair on Oscar’s spine was raised.
The thunder exploded in a loud burst near the window, the glass rattling, and Oscar’s screeching began again. Hagrid gave a bark, and Jed shushed him. His dog paced near the window, ready to guard his friend the cat.
Jed bent near, afraid his touch might startle poor Oscar even more. “Hey there, buddy. It’s okay. Just a bad storm.” He was a dog guy. How did one calm a scared cat exactly? “You’re okay,” Jed said in a low, soothing voice.
Oscar jumped into his arms. He tried to wedge his head against Jed’s stomach. A sting of claw was at his chest, but Jed ignored it, cradling the big cat to him. “It’s okay, buddy. I got you.”
“Where’s Oscar?” Remy came racing into the room. “I couldn’t find him, and he hates storms.”
“Here.” Jed eased back a little, revealing Oscar.
Oscar meowed loudly, but it wasn’t a screech.
“Oh.” Remy put a hand to his heart. “He’s with you.”
Jed blushed. “He jumped to me. He seemed pretty afraid, so I… um… got him.”
“He hates thunder, always has. Guitars and dogs? He loves. But thunder and rain? He falls apart. It makes no sense, but that’s Oscar. Listen, can you keep him there a second longer? I have some cat herbal drops in my suitcase. It soothes him. I’ll go get it, all right? I don’t want him hiding under the couch so I can’t give it to him.”
“Sure, I’ll keep him with me.”
“Thanks.” Remy smiled with relief. “Be right back.”
Jed nodded, trying not to glue his gaze on the sight of Remy’s butt in silky black briefs as he went to his bedroom to fetch the herbal remedy for Oscar. Jed was a “white T-shirt and boxer” guy, but Remy could make the skimpy briefs look far better than Jed ever could. He was so cute, with his hair mussed from sleep and eyes wide with worry; it had been hard not to want to take and touch.
The thunder boomed again, and Oscar shook and meowed in his arms, focusing Jed on the task at hand. Jed smoothed the cat’s fur, then rubbed his thumb behind Oscar’s ears.
“Everything’s all right. I promise.” Jed took a slow breath. He let it out calmly, hoping the cat could feel his energy. He couldn’t fix Remy’s problems, but he could at least help his cat. Jed kept petting and soothing Oscar until he felt the cat release some tension.
“I got his drops.” Remy squatted down beside Jed and Oscar. “Although he looks better already. I think Oscar finds you comforting.”
“Yeah,” Jed whispered, not wanting to startle Oscar.
“Yep.” He opened a small bottle. “And the thunder is moving farther away, so I’m not sure he needs his drops, but I may as well give him some. It’s a special blend of herbs that cats find calming.”
Remy rubbed some of the mixture on the pads of Oscar’s feet and behind his neck. Jed smelled the herbs, but also Remy’s scent. Inhaling, Jed quivered deep inside as Remy leaned closer. He longed to hold Remy, to feel the warmth of his skin, despite the way those thoughts left Jed nervous and uneasy.
“He’s hates storms. Wish I could help take that fear away from Oscar. He always helps when I’m having a bad day. You know?”
“I do,” Jed answered. “I always have turned to animals more than to people for comfort.”
Remy blinked, then cocked his head to one side. “And I get the feeling you haven’t trusted a lot of people. Have you ever trusted somebody you’ve dated since that Tom guy?”
“I don’t date much.” Jed stroked Oscar, still holding him in his arms. “Maybe I should do something about it, but it’s hard out here to find the time and… easy to make excuses.”
Remy nodded and wet his bottom lip. Jed stilled his hands and simply held Oscar. He stared at Remy’s plump lip, then slid a little closer to him. “Maybe I need somebody to give me a push in the right direction.”
“Jed! Is that blood?” Remy drew back, a small frown knitting his brow.
“What? Oh.” Jed glanced at his white T-shirt, at the small dots of red showing through the material. “Oscar was only scared for a second and dug his claws in.”
“I’m so sorry. Jesus, Oscar never does that.”
“He was afraid.” Jed shrugged.
“Well, he seems okay now. Put him down and let’s get some Neosporin on that.”
“It’s nothing.”
“Cat scratches that are deep enough can risk infection. I’m not going to wake up and find you need to go to the hospital because it swelled overnight and we never treated it.” Remy scrambled to his feet and held out a hand. “C’mon, tough guy. Let me wash and bandage that.”
“I don’t know why you’re making such a big deal….” Jed trailed off and gently released Oscar. Moments later, he found himself stripped of his shirt and allowing Remy to gently press a washcloth to his scratches.
“He got you better than you let on,” Remy scolded, drying his chest and rummaging in Jed’s medicine cabinet for disinfectant.
“It’s right there.” Jed pointed to his top shelf. “And I’m totally fine.” He fell silent as Remy dotted his cuts with Neosporin.
Remy squeezed Jed’s shoulders. “This might still get infected. Please keep your eye on it tomorrow.”
“Will do.” Jed thought it unlikely. He kept completely still as Remy treated the scratches.
He waited until Remy was putting the Neosporin back on the shelf to add a soft, “Thanks. You would make a good nurse if you weren’t already a pop star.”
“I could do both. Nurse by day, rock all night. Easy-peasy.”
A smile curved Jed’s lips. God, Remy was so cute when he was arrogant. It made Jed want to tease him and then take care of him. Because beneath all that bravado, Jed was beginning to see the real Remy. He’d like to make Remy dinner tomorrow. Something healthy but delicious.
“What’re you thinking?”
“That I want to cook for you,” Jed answered. “Tomorrow, a dinner.”
“Really? Nobody has ever cooked for me. Bought me fancy meals, sure, but not made a meal.”
“You have any allergies?”
“Except to stupid people? No.”
“Food preferences?”
“I like everything but brussels sprouts.”
“Oh, then you never had them done right,” Jed said, growing excited. “I season the hell out of them and grill ’em. You’ll love my brussels sprouts. I gotta have you try it. And I’ll do a steak, panko-crusted skewers of shrimp, and some homemade cornbread.”
Remy looked bemused. “Okay,” he agreed slowly, “but no promises to eat brussels sprouts. Even yours.”
“Trust me,” Jed said. “You will.”
Chapter Seven
REMY hummed as he got ready for dinner. It had been a good day so far, a very good day.
He thought about the last person he liked. Nicky had never been sweet. Not even when Remy caught the flu and was so congested before his concert. Nicky hadn’t brought him cold medicine or hot tea. He hadn’t even noticed. Jed would notice. Remy had the feeling Jed would notice everything.
Nicky had only noticed when Remy unfollowed his dumb ass on Twitter. Remy chuckled, wondering if Jed even had a Twitter account. He could imagine Jed’s hash tags: #simple cowboy, #introverts rule, #go the hell away.
They’d done a full day of chores, and Jed was already in the kitchen. He was much faster to shower, Remy noted. Remy liked to linger in the soapy water. Maybe he could convince Jed to shower with him someday?
“Not if I don’t sling him over my back and carry him in there,” Remy grumbled.
Really, he hadn’t ever worked this hard to get somebody into his bed. It was infuriating. He wanted Jed demanding to fuck him already. And Remy would gladly get on his
knees and beg.
He shook his head. He was overanalyzing it all. If it happened, fine. Whatever. He didn’t care.
“Liar,” Remy scolded himself in the mirror.
Jed was barefoot and holding a heavy iron skillet when Remy walked into the kitchen. Jed shifted, and Remy took in his strong calves, thighs, the shape of his cock hidden under too much denim.
“Can I help?” His voice sounded too low, too hoarse. Did Jed notice that?
“Sure.”
Remy sighed. The man was oblivious. “What can I do?”
“Get out the tomatoes and some other veggies? Thanks for offering,” Jed added. His mouth quirked into a small smile, and Remy’s heart pounded like a virgin’s.
Jed moved to turn on the oven, and when he did, Remy got a good view of his ass and back. Jesus, Jed did not get that body from a gym. He was tough and strong.
“I know you’re going to love this dinner,” Jed said.
“Confident, are you?”
“Yep, that and I already know you lack home-cooked meals. So I haven’t much competition.”
Remy laughed and fetched some round red tomatoes from the vegetable bin.
“Do you want these cut thin or thick?”
“Whatever you want. As much fun as it is to cook alone, this is even better.”
Jed paused in what he was doing to look at Remy, his eyes twinkling with anticipation of their meal.
Remy stood a little straighter as he went to the cutting board. He liked that Jed didn’t dismiss his offer to help with the cooking. As much as being fussed over was appealing, being partners in the kitchen held even more allure.
“What kind of salad am I making?”
“I wanted to make a mozzarella, basil, and tomato salad.”
“I can do that for you. Just guide me on how and I’ll do it.”
“All right. Grab the cheese and basil from the fridge.”
Remy did so, enjoying his new role as sous-chef. “You can concentrate on those shrimp and the brussels sprouts. I expect perfection.”
“And you’ll get it.”
They worked a moment in silence. How odd that Remy hadn’t slept with Jed yet. By this time, he usually was on to another guy, not standing side by side in a kitchen chopping vegetables with him. Usually he would wake up and kick the guy out, if he’d even allowed him to stay the night. After Nicky, Remy had a lot of one-night stands, where he woke the next day out of sorts and ready for the person to leave.
Or maybe Remy had woken up with company but lonely? He had never thought so until now…. After his shower, he had dressed carefully and put on a hint of cologne. He’d brushed his teeth for longer than usual. He wasn’t usually a great date. He let his fame do the courting or whatever. Remy knew he was shallow. But somehow, with Jed, he suddenly felt he could be more.
“Here’s a bowl. Mix the basil and tomato gently. Then the cheese.” Jed leaned near, and Remy shut his eyes a second, enjoying the feel of Jed’s body brushing against his.
“I’ll go start the grill,” Jed said, backing away. Remy blinked, confused. He wondered how Jed would react if he didn’t let him go.
THE amazing thing was brussels sprouts might be his new favorite food. The seasoning was perfect, the brussels sprouts not at all bitter the way Remy recalled, but crispy and flavorful. They sat in the kitchen, simply eating together. Jed had poured them each a beer, and he’d complimented Remy’s mozzarella salad, and now Remy returned the compliment, saying, “This is delicious, Jed. From the steak to the damn brussels sprouts. So good!”
He wasn’t even lying. Somehow Jed had gotten him to like a vegetable that nobody liked. What did it mean? Remy chewed slowly, a taste of spices on his tongue. “It’s good,” he repeated, half to himself.
“Have some more.”
Remy thought about how when he gave Nicky compliments, Nicky immediately wanted to hear more and more praise. Not Jed. He was comfortable knowing he had done a good job. Suddenly Remy didn’t want to put all his usual moves on Jed. To try and seduce him like it was a game.
He chewed his tenderly cooked steak and took a warm corn muffin in his hand. Just weeks ago, he had barely been eating at all. He’d been on the verge of collapse and barely cared.
Remy smiled at Jed, letting the ugly memory go as Jed smiled back.
THEY spent the rest of the night playing a game of darts. Jed had a board in his living room. It was clear within minutes that Jed played a lot of darts and that Remy sucked, but it was fun. Remy took every opportunity to brush his hand over Jed’s as they exchanged darts. He sneaked looks at Jed’s firm backside when he bent down for one. Remy didn’t concentrate on the game all that much.
“Want a bedtime shot?” Jed asked as the night turned late. “Might help you sleep.”
“What is it?”
“Fireball.”
“Ugh, no thanks. Worst hangover ever was from whiskey.”
Jed chuckled, then downed a shot.
Jed bid him good night at his bedroom door. It was old-fashioned as hell, and so like Jed that Remy smiled. He no longer expected anything. Probably he’d lost his shit one too many times the past few days for Jed not to be scared off. But he hoped like hell they could at least remain friends when he left.
Remy held back a sigh. He didn’t feel any closer to answers than when he’d arrived.
“See you in the morning. Bright and early?” Jed asked as they got to his door.
“I expect a wakeup call,” Remy teased. “But I promise to not be naked this time.”
There was a long pause.
“What if naked is how I want you?” Jed said gruffly.
He cupped the side of Remy’s face. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, he stepped closer. And closer.
With his mouth hovering above Remy’s, Jed finally leaned in and gave him a hard tug forward so their mouths met and Remy rocked against Jed’s chest.
Their lips touched, and Remy opened his mouth. Jed tasted good, faintly of cinnamon from his Fireball shot, making Remy’s nerves spark. He arched forward and brushed his tongue at Jed’s. With a moan, Jed slipped his arms around him. His lips were hungry on Remy’s. Warm and needy. It was a hell of a kiss, a knee-weakening kiss, impossible to resist. Just when Remy went for more, trying to snag his arms around Jed’s neck, Jed shoved him away and swore softly.
Confounded, Remy stood there as Jed walked away.
Jed had kissed him and bolted. Fucking run.
“Oh, the hell you will!” Remy exclaimed. Dating or not, or whatever the fuck they’d been doing the past few days, Remy no longer cared.
He rushed after Jed.
Chapter Eight
WHAT the hell had he been thinking? Taking Remy for bonfires and horse rides probably were stupid ideas. Cooking for him was a stupid idea. The guy was used to jet setting off to Paris.
“Jed?”
He spun around, surprised Remy had followed him to his office.
“Are… are you okay?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I don’t know. You ran off pretty fast. After….”
Jed jammed his hands into his pockets. Shrugged.
“Right,” Remy mumbled. “Why would you talk about shit.” He glanced around Jed’s sparse study, then pointed to his rodeo buckles and pictures. “When I visited the ranch all those years ago, you were just starting to ride the circuit, but I thought you were amazing.” He stared at Jed’s picture. Jed was standing next to a bronco, his hat tipped low, a big grin splitting his face. Jed thought the picture felt like another life.
Remy put the photo down and moved closer. “I had a massive crush on you back then.”
“Stop messing with me.”
“Why would you think I’m messing with you? It’s the truth. I watched you every second. Not just ’cause I had been bullied and you seemed safe. I liked to look at you. I still do. You haven’t changed, at least not much. You seem exactly the same.”
“Is that bad?”
“No
, it’s good.” Remy drew his fingers up Jed’s neck, reached his hand behind Jed’s head. “Jed.” Remy breathed out his name softly, not dodging now. His lips parted.
Remy’s body swayed against Jed’s chest. The kiss began gently, with Remy licking Jed’s bottom lip, making him shiver. With a low growl, Jed grabbed him by the waist. Remy’s fingers were softly touching Jed’s jawline, his tongue teasing at Jed’s lips again. Jed never wanted to stop. He wanted to kiss him all over.
Remy’s mouth settled firmly over Jed’s, his warm lips and tongue driving Jed wild as Jed’s pulse pounded. Remy yanked Jed’s head by his hair and roughened the kiss. Jed grunted in answer and grabbed Remy’s tight ass, which felt so good in Jed’s hands. He wanted to strip Remy naked and bend him over his office chair. He could imagine the keening sounds Remy might make when fucked. Or would he be comparing Jed to all the others?
Jed cursed as he pushed away. He took deep draws of air, gulping it in. He forced himself to go through all the reasons taking Remy to his bedroom would be a bad idea.
“What’s going on, Jed?” Remy demanded in a ragged breath. “You’re giving me mixed signals here. You start flirting. Then you stop. You kiss me, then you push me away. What the fuck, Jed?”
“I’m sorry.” He cleared his throat before continuing in a quieter voice. “But we’re too different. This is my land—my life—and I never want to leave it. Do you want to know why I rode the circuit? ’Cause I was angry as hell at the world, and it gave me a place to put that anger. I stayed in the circuit for the money. Then I came home to try and do something good with the ranch. Buddy never understood me or asked me questions. He didn’t want to sell me his share, but neither did he want to help when I mentioned the rodeo wasn’t paying what it used to for the horses. I had to go it alone. And even years later, Buddy calls me about you and all that old resentment comes rushing in. That’s not fair to you. It’s too damn messy with Buddy tangled between us. And what’s more important, I can never relate to your life or you to mine. We aren’t alike.”
Rocking the Cowboy Page 9
