“Oh, you mean the night you gave me a hand job?” I nodded mutely. “Yeah, I remember. You don’t forget that kind of thing.”
“You were drunk.”
“Not that drunk, Perry. And neither were you.”
“But why…” I placed my shaking mug on the scarred tabletop. “Why did you freak out when I told the others that we’d been here?”
“Because, asshole, I have to stay clean for parole.”
“Oh. I thought that just meant doing drugs.” My head was spinning, the thoughts crashing into each other as they tried to line up neatly as I liked them.
“Mostly sure, but drinking was part of the conditions of Landon allowing me to work here. Drugs, booze, sex. All that shit that’s so bad for you.”
“You’re not doing well then.”
That made him snort in amusement. It was a rough crude sound, but I enjoyed it. “Right? Two out of three down. Still though, I’m trying. Well, the dope and booze are cut way back. As for the sex? Well, there are two hot people on this ranch that are sending me all kinds of signals.”
My eyes flared. Had I been sending signals? What kind? Fuck. My face was flaming now. Yet as shame burned through me a few other stronger feelings were wriggling through the embarrassment. Lust. And envy.
“She’s not sending you signals,” I muttered as the river burbled along not twenty feet away.
“So say you.” His boots left the table, hitting the worn wooden floorboards with a thud before he leaned up to place his forearms on the tabletop. “I think she wants me. I think you want me too and you really hate the fact that you’re lusting after me, but you can’t help yourself because I’m so damn sexy.”
“Conceited much?” I crossly replied.
“Ah there see, you didn’t argue with my assessment. You do want me just like I want you.” I glanced at the open door, sweat from the fire beading on my upper lip. “That shyness of yours is incredibly hot. Just like this fucking cabin. I’m going to the river to cool off. You want to come?”
My sight flew from the sinking sun to Will as he pushed to his feet. He peeled off his sweaty tee. My mouth watered at the sight of all that long, lean muscle. The vibrant lizard stood out against his skin. Now the coloration of his inkwork made sense. Magenta, yellow, and cyan. Pan flag colors. Small tufts of dark hair under his arms and a few sprinkles of curls on his chest with that sinful trail that I recalled so well. My dick hardened instantly.
“I should clean up,” I managed to say. Will shrugged, stepped over his T-shirt on the floor, and went to his bunk—the top—to pull out a bar of soap and a towel.
“Whatever works for you.” With that, he ambled out of the stifling warm cabin leaving me with one fine view of his wide shoulders, trim waist, and small ass hugged by worn denim. I doubted the twilight now coloring the western sky could touch the beauty of the man that had just left.
I had a monumental decision to make. I hoped I made a good one. God knows when Will Abbott was involved my choices didn’t seem to be wise ones.
I madethe call to clean up. Stupid call, I know, but there was no way in hell I possessed the balls to walk down to the river and wade out to join Will. Nope. Just thinking about it made the beans in my gut churn like Grandma’s squeaky wringer washer. I did try my best to spy on him in the water through the grimy window but between the pines and the fly shit on the glass, there was no way to peek at his bare ass. Probably for the better. I still had too many questions and not enough answers. Like why was he hiding his sexuality here on the ranch? Or was he? Was it all about the drinking and his job?
Obviously, his mother and stepdad number four knew, which meant that Kyle had to know. Hell, Kyle was crazy out and proud of being bisexual. Was it some sort of quirky brother dynamic or was it the Prairie Smoke? With a gay owner and foreman along with a bi second in command, there was no reason to feel like he’d be shunned or made fun of. I would not allow any kind of homophobic shit to go down in my bunkhouse. So hiding it when there were accepting people just made no sense.
Yeah, Perry. Hiding the fact that you’re gay when your family is super cool just makes no sense. Remind me why we’re in the closet?
Fuck me. I shoved all that to the side as I filled one side of the sink with a pot of hot water for the wash. I began scrubbing the pots, mugs, and utensils while water boiled over the fire for rinsing. Why was I keeping my sexuality a secret? I could tell my grandfather and my mother. They’d be cool. My people were pretty accepting of gays in general. Yeah, the other Shoshoni on the ranch might give me some grief, but it wouldn’t get too nasty. That wasn’t our way and Nate would slam that shit down fast. So why was I hiding? Dipping the soapy mugs into water so hot it made me hiss, I placed the steaming cups on a clean dish towel as I pondered. Thinking things out was my way. I was like a tortoise in that respect. I plodded along, slow and steady, ready to retreat into my shell at the first sign of upset.
And Will was…well, Will was like that lizard on his neck. Darting along speedily he ran headfirst into life like an ornithomimid. The “ostrich mimic” dinosaurs were incredibly fast, running at speeds of up to fifty miles per hour. So how was a dumpy tortoise like me supposed to catch a speedy lizard like Will? And should I even try to keep up with a man like him? He was trouble. He was upheaval. He was sexy as hell.
“Ugh,” I groaned as my eyes went to the window once more. I rose to my toes then rubbed my wet, soapy fingers on the filthy glass. Still a no go. “For the best.” If I kept telling myself that maybe I’d start to believe it.
Washing up the few dishes didn’t use up much time so to keep my mind out of the gutter—or river as the case may be—I dug into my duffel bag. I’d not packed much. A couple of changes of clothes, underwear, socks, and some soap. Screw shaving for a few days. My beard growth was light. Three or four days wouldn’t make much of a difference. My fingers brushed the library book about Leonidas that I’d signed out for Will. Pushing aside my briefs I stared down at the cover. It was a sketching of an ancient battlefield—perhaps Thermopylae—with a bloody and tattered Spartan flag lying on the muddy ground. Would he like the book? Or would he think I was trying to push him to read when he didn’t like to? Would he get mad or insulted or—
“You missed the chance to have me wash your back.” I jerked at the unexpected sound of his voice, spinning to gape at him coming through the doorway. He’d pulled on his dirty jeans. His towel lay around his red neck, his underwear in one hand, bar of soap wrapped in his towel in the other. His dark hair lay flat on his head, soaking wet still. Water droplets lingered on his broad shoulders glittering like diamonds in the remaining rays of sunlight. I’d never seen him look so good. Generally, I showered early to avoid the other guys in the showers. Not that I had anything to hide but I’d always felt self-conscious when I was naked. Gym classes had been torture when I was in high school even after I’d bulked up and grew taller. “Oh man, did you bring a book about dead Greeks to bore me to sleep tonight?”
Flustered because holy fuck the man was going commando, I stammered a bit then held the book out to him.
“I signed it out for you.” He stood in the doorway, dwindling light framing him perfectly, staring at the library book as if it were a diamondback. “It’s about Leonidas when he was training at the agoge. I’d guess he was probably seven at the beginning, but it follows him throughout his years there. Most young men graduated around the age of twenty. The young kids had to shave their heads, had no shoes, and were given one cloak. Then when they progressed through the program, they—”
I clamped my rambling mouth shut. Will’s expression was unreadable, so I tensed in preparation for a fist to fly at me.
“Why would you get me a stupid book?” he enquired, his voice craggy and cautious.