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“I’d tell you to shove that shit right up your ass.” His jaw popped from clenching it so hard, but he wasn’t about to mince words, not even to keep his job.
Hugh’s lips twisted—but not with a scowl. He issued a low chuckle. “Goddamn, Piers. I like you.”
Piers grunted. “I’d like you better if we were drinking beer together at the bonfire instead of you calling me in for another one of these talks.”
“That’s fair. We’ll make that happen before we fly back to Texas.”
“And when will that be?”
Again, Hugh laughed. “You’re clearly eager for that to happen. Can’t say I blame you. But we plan on leaving at the end of next week. We’re going to do some interviewing while we’re in the area.”
They traded a look. Jackson’s name and circumstances hung between them, unspoken.
“If that’s all, I’ve got chores to finish and a lady waiting for me.”
Hugh waved a hand. “Better get busy then. Next time we have one of our talks, we’ll each have a beer in hand.”
He walked off, only lifting a hand in farewell. As soon as he was out of the office, he quickened his steps to reach the barn.
But when he stepped inside, Ash wasn’t there.
* * * * *
“You’ve got to be joking.” Ash set the point of the shovel he was using into the dirt with a little too much force. He struggled to control himself so he didn’t send Maggie the glower that wasn’t really aimed at her.
What was that old saying? Don’t shoot the messenger.
“I’m sorry, Ash. As soon as I got back to the office, Riggs asked to see you.”
He inflated his lungs and held it. Then he took in another short breath until his lungs were overfilled, a tactic used by the military to force a person into a calmer state.
He wasn’t even close to panicking—but he did hover very near the boiling point.
Before Maggie interrupted, he’d been daydreaming about his and Piers’s plans to take Sylvee to the hot springs this afternoon. There was so much to show her around the ranch, and they both wanted to give her every single experience.
Hell, they wanted to imprint those times on their own minds so they could revisit them if she chose never to see them again.
“Ash?” Maggie’s light brown eyebrows pinched over her upturned nose.
“I’m going.” Leaving the shovel stuck in the dirt, he took a step toward the sidewalk that would lead him to the office.
“Not that way. Riggs is waiting for you in the den of the lodge.”
He stopped dead. “Even better,” he grated out and took off in a fast clip.
The den was one of the places where all the guys loved hanging out in their downtime and between clients. More than one depraved act had taken place there between him and Piers. Those leather armchairs were the perfect place to bend over and take it from his lover.
And the thick fur rug in front of the fireplace had cushioned Piers’s knees many a time while he sucked Ash’s cock.
Now Riggs was about to taint those good memories with shitty questioning about topics that Ash didn’t want to discuss.
He barely noticed the clouds had blown away, leaving patches of deep blue sky that set off the mountains or the birds flitting through the branches. As he strode through the main room of the lodge, a few Boot Knockers gave him chin lifts of greeting before turning their attention to their lovely ladies. Ash thumbed his hat and continued on.
When he reached the den, he grabbed the heavy iron door handle and easily yanked the solid wood door open. The scent of bourbon rushed out to envelop him. Normally, that would be a comforting invitation. Not this morning.
Riggs stood at the stone fireplace. In black jeans and a chambray shirt, with the black Stetson that set off his dark coloring, Riggs would catch the attention of many women, and men too.
When Ash entered, he swung to face him. Their stares met. “Thanks for coming.”
