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ChapterSeven
The next weekwas insanely busy.
I fell into bed most nights exhausted and coated with birthing fluid. That might be me overexaggerating. I never got into bed without showering. Still, though, the smell of the barn was hard to clear away even when I was sparkly clean. Perhaps it was just mental. Kind of how I was of late. Mental. As in mentally confused or mentally befogged or mentally pudding-headed. All the words for being unhinged fit. I’d alienated my brother and Perry, which set really badly on my shoulders, but I had no clue how to undo what was rapidly becoming an addiction. I was hooked on Shepherd McCrary. Some nights I feared I might OD. There was no shot or nasal spray that I knew of that could save a man from overdosing on another man. I was walking a really fine line. I’d swear every day that I would not go to his place or seek him out as we worked. Come dusk, though, all my willpower withered away, and I was once more that devoted little horn dog scratching at Shep’s door for a warm bed and a scratch behind my ear. Or a warm bed and a tight ass to sink into. Shepherd was incredibly happy to be dicked. I’d never had so much sex in one spell in my life. And that included that short stint over the summer when I traveled with the gay rodeo.
But the sex with Shep was vastly different from the hookups I’d had in horse trailers or even at some of the nicer gay bars in big cities. There was a bond forming between us. We talked. After we’d slaked those pesky desires, we’d lay in bed and talk. Or read. He’d insisted I finish that stupid alien horror story for him. Night after night we’d be in his bed, flushed from fucking like jackrabbits, with me reading aloud and him tearing the book to bits. Lots of his points were good ones, and some were severe stretches but several made me laugh out loud. The man was sharp as a tack and quick to pounce on any weakness. That was a McCrary trait. One that sometimes amused me and other times made me grimace. When he would bark at one of the hands over something, I’d tend to step in to placate him.
“We don’t talk to our men like that,” I’d whisper to him after pulling him aside. His blue eyes would sizzle and snap, but he’d nod in acknowledgment and then go apologize. Shep knew his shit. He’d been born and raised on a spread much larger than this one. I was sure it rankled that he was technically a raw hand hire here, even though he had a lifetime of experience. I’d thought about asking Nate to move him up over the other new hires but hadn’t. That would cause hard feelings and we had enough of those floating in the air like anthrax.
It was just a really odd time in my life. And speaking of odd, Montrell was having a small get-together at the big house to celebrate Valentine’s Day. I’d tried to finagle the work schedule so I didn’t have to attend, but fucking Nate just kept correcting my changes in Google Docs.
“If I’m going, so are you,” he’d told me this morning as we assisted with a breech birth. Nothing like talking romantic evenings when your arm is buried up to the shoulder inside a cow’s vagina. Since Nate was on light-duty still the rearranging of breech calves during the day fell to me. Dr. Kyle Abbott, Bovine Gynecologist. This is the stuff that the “Be a Cowboy!” brochures they hand out at those high school job events never tell you about.
Seemed neither me nor my foreman had dates for this informal dinner thing. Nate was grumpy without Bishop and wanted to inflict pain on me as his second-in-command by making me attend a Valentine’s Day meal without a significant other. This was one of the new changes that were slowly creeping into life here at Blue Ice with the arrival of Landon and Montrell. And while it was generous for sure, we old hands were still unsure of why we were expected to wear a tie and jacket to a meal at the big house. The previous owner had one cookout per year—usually on the Fourth of July—and that was that. Of course the previous owner wasn’t a hip, cool gay jazz musician who was pining for the big city. Or so I assumed. Why else would anyone ask a bunch of rough and rowdy cowpokes to come to dinner? On a holiday with no fireworks, beer, or burnt hot dogs?
As I tightened my bow tie, I glowered at myself, then called Nate names all the while I finished dressing. My funeral suit was tight and painfully outdated. But the polka dot bow tie was a classy touch I thought. I was so proud of my clip-on tie that I pointed it out to Montrell as soon as I was ensconced in the trophy room of the massive log cabin we called the big house.
“It’s quite…fashionable,” Montrell gushed and smiled, his long fingers resting on my shoulder. Musician’s hands. For all the frou-frou city changes that Landon and Montrell had brought to the Blue Ice, one of the best was the way Montrell’s piano music floated along the warm summer winds when one rode by the main house. “There’s your brother and his boyfriend. They’re a cute couple.”
I glanced at the door to see Landon taking Will and Perry’s coats. They both looked as out of place as I felt. Will’s gaze met mine and the smile he’d been sharing with Landon fell away.
“Let me get you a drink,” Montrell said, looping an arm around my shoulder and steering me deeper into the room filled with trophies, sticks, and pucks in glass cases. Talk about a storied career. And Landon had lost it all because of who he loved. Guess the sporting world wasn’t ready for a gay man who loved another gay man who happened to be an X-dresser. As far as we’ve come, we still had so far to go…
I lingered by the bar, talking to Mona, Landon’s personal assistant, about her grandchild and the cost of good shoes. Mona never said a word to me about Will, but I knew she wasn’t keen on my brother. She’d expressed her distrust over a person with a criminal past numerous times but so far this evening she’d kept her thoughts to herself. Maybe the vibe she sent out had prompted Will’s buddy Tootch to leave our employ. Or it could have been that he was not cut out for ranch work. Not everyone was cool with palpating cows or having to fork up horse shit. I sipped my whiskey on the rocks, made small talk, and watched the front door for signs of Shep despite knowing it was futile. Montrell and Landon would not have invited a McCrary to this little soiree. And even if he did show up, what would I do? Stand here under the floating hearts decorations and blow kisses to him? I didn’t even buy him anything for the lover’s holiday because we weren’t lovers. Not like Montrell and Landon, Nate and Bishop, or Will and Perry. We were mutual desire slakers. Which was fine and good. It was hard to sort out why I felt like the lone donkey in a herd of thoroughbreds.
Yep, jackass fits you well.
I ate a few canapes, then made my excuses to the hosts. Two hours of utter boredom had passed, and I’d not said a word to Will. Perry and I made eye contact as I was shrugging into my coat, but it was hard to read his expression. Feeling guilty for hooking up with Shepherd, I snuck out into the cold, climbed into my truck, and made a beeline to Shep’s place out by the lake. My inner voice brayed all the way there, but fuck him too.
When Shep opened the door, I reached up, pulled off my bow tie, and handed it to him.
“Happy Valentine’s Day,” I said right before I grabbed him by the head and kissed him back into the cabin. We never made it past the sofa in the tiny living room. I did my best to try to suck his brains out through his dick and I may have come close because when I was wiping cum from the corners of my mouth, he was huffing and puffing while wearing my bow tie as a hair ornament.
“I didn’t get you anything,” Shep panted as I stood up, freed my cock, and reached for him. He sat up like a well-trained dog.
“Your mouth is gift enough,” I replied as I fed him my cock. He smiled around my dick and gave me such incredible head, I feared I might pass out when I came. I didn’t, but it was a near thing. “If I ever meet Lionel, I’m going to buy him a drink.”
Shep pulled off my flagging cock, spittle and cum on his chin, and gave me the queerest look, no pun intended.
“What the fuck?” He ran the back of his hand over his chin and shot to his feet. I took a step back as his vibe had shifted from lovey-dovey to pissed as fuck in two seconds flat. “Why did you bring him up?”
“Because he taught you how to suck dick well.” I tucked my cock back in and zipped. He flung the bow tie at my face, his hair a tangled mass of wheat and gold knots from me fisting it while he blew me.
“You should just go.” He tugged up his pants over his ass with a huff.
“Can you tell me what the exact hell has you so fired up?”
“You. You piss me off.”
“Why? What the hell did I do that lit such a fire under your ass?!”
“You know how I feel about that.” He stormed over to the front door, lifted my jacket from the knob, threw it at me, and opened the door. Cold air rushed in, chilling me instantly. I looked at Shep in confusion.
“I don’t know how you feel about anything because you won’t talk to me about shit!” I bent over to pick up my coat from the floor.
“We’re not supposed to be talking about personal things. This is just sex. That is it. And right now, I’m not sure I even want that from you. You’re so fucking callous!”
My mouth hit my chest. I closed it with a snap. Okay, yes, sure, I knew we were just fuck buddies but surely reading in bed together had moved us past that. It had for me.
