Page 137 of Nothing Special X: The Last Stand

He’d forgotten Fox’s sly humor. He didn’t grin after he’d said it either. He just sat there gazing out at his ranch.

Before Syn could speak, the sound of boots and male voices came from the side path.

Bull walked up first, and the sight of him helped Syn understand why Fox had traded gunfire and tactical calls for this man, this land, this life.

He was massive, broad as a door and twice as solid, with weathered, suntanned skin, black-rimmed aviator sunglasses, a thick beard, dusty jeans, and a midnight cowboy hat pulled low on his forehead.

Bull stepped onto the porch and pulled one glove off with his teeth before offering Syn his hand. His grip was firm and callused.

“Syn,” Bull said, in his deep, southern-tinged voice. “Glad you made it out. Any friend of Fox has a place here long as he needs it.”

“I appreciate that, Bull.” Syn shook his hand. “This place is amazing, and I think I’ve only seen a quarter of it.”

“You make sure he gets the full tour tomorrow, hmm.” Bull jerked Fox up from his seat and slammed him into his chest.

Their kiss was so hot Syn had to look away.

The two men who’d walked up with Bull were arguing heatedly about a lazy ranch hand.

“You told me to give your friend a shot, Ridby, and I did. I hired him, and he’s fucked up too many times. Now you fire him.”

The first guy was only slightly smaller than Bull, which meant he was built like a brick shithouse. He was maybe in his early forties, with a stern face, mossy green eyes, a square jaw covered with stubble and roped forearms.

His dark hat was battered, and his shirt sweat-stained, as he towered over the younger guy he was fussing with.

Bull tipped his chin toward them. “You remember Dale Garrett, my business partner and foreman, and Rid, my stable manager.”

“Good to see you.” Dale stopped and shook Syn’s hand with a grip that could probably bend steel. “Where’s that self-righteous boss of yours?”

Syn smirked. “He’s on assignment. But, I’m sure he misses you too.”

The second man removed his baseball cap, letting out his messy blond hair, as he slid under Dale’s arm and gazed up at him with a set of baby blue eyes that had the big man folding like a cheap lawn chair.

Rid was younger, handsome in a wild, country-bred kind of way. Ranch shirt stretched across his lithe chest, worn dusty jeans and an easy, manipulative smile.

Rid offered his free hand. “Sorry you have to witness this spectacle. Dale sometimes needs convincing that people are human and make mistakes. And that grace and forgiveness are very attractive virtues.”

That casual mention of forgiveness made Syn swallow hard as he accepted Rid’s hand.

Dale stared down at Rid, caving just as Syn thought he would.

“Fine. One more shot.”

Rid pushed up and placed a lingering kiss on Dale lips.

“I’ll pay closer attention to him, handsome. There’ll be no more fuckups.”

Dale and Rid seemed to slip into their own world, wrapped in each other’s arms, while Fox and Bull shook their heads as if they were used to this.

“I’m gonna get cleaned up for dinner,” Bull said against Fox’s mouth.

Fox caught the brim of Bull’s hat and tugged it lower. “Amelia said be on time or else.”

Dale grunted. “We better move.”

Rid nodded toward Syn. “Good meeting you.”

They went inside through the mudroom, Bull’s hand landing briefly on the back of Fox’s neck as he passed.