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“When do you fly back?”
“There’s a flight at five-eighteen.” It’d get into Bozeman just after midnight, but it was better than the alternative, arriving about ten the following morning.
Toby was already missing Robert.
Good Lord, I’ve got it bad.
He hoped he got to hold onto Robert for longer than Sol had gotten with Liam.
Chapter 6
Wednesday, August 10
Salvation felt like one of those deserted mining towns they used to put in the movies: there seemed to be no one around. Toby’s truck was parked beside the barn, so he must’ve returned at some point during the night—it had been there at five when Butch stepped outside to grab that first lungful of crisp morning air.
Butch glanced up the hill toward the house.
I guess we won’t be seeing those two for a while.
A low melodic humming came from the stable. That meant Paul was spending time with the horses. Butch pushed the door to the bunkhouse open and peered inside.
The only person in sight was Matt who was sprawled on the couch, his phone in one hand, the other cupping his crotch.
Butch coughed loudly. “Not interruptin’ you, I hope.”
Matt snorted. “Nope.” He didn’t even break eye contact with the screen, his thumb busy swiping.
He didn’t let go of his package either.
Butch waited, but it soon became obvious Matt wasn’t about to engage in conversation.
“Where the fuck is everyone?” Butch headed for his bunk to stow his purchases. He’d gone into Bozeman to buy bulbs for his night light—the old one had died on him two days before, and he was stocking up. He also needed a few other things, and was glad to find the place empty.
Zeeb seeing him with a box of condoms? Yeah no. Butch didn’t think Zeeb would letthatgo without comment. Butch shoved them into the drawer he used for his underwear.
“Teague’s up at the house with the boss and Toby. Paul’s in the stable. Zeeb took the guests up on the Shafthouse trail, and Walt’s feeding the herd.”
Butch returned to the couch. “And what are you doing? As if I didn’t know.”
Matt tilted his head toward Butch and grinned. “Me? I’m on Grindr, finding myself a guy for the weekend. Gonna go to Bozeman.” His eyes sparkled as he held up his phone. “I keep thinking one of these days I’m gonna findyouon here.”
“And what would I be doin’ on an app for gay guys? Hmm? Fuck, I’ve never even seen it.”
That wasn’t to say he hadn’t burned with curiosity now and then.
“Well, now’s your chance. No one else around.” Matt waved his phone in the air. “Wanna take a peek? See what you’re missing?” He grinned. “It’s not as if you’re gonna see dicks. Grindr’s more… tasteful than that.”
“Yeah right.” Butch strolled over to the couch and sat, while Matt straightened. He peered at the screen. “So this is what you use to find yourself a date?” It seemed to be a collection of photos—guys of all shapes and sizes, some clothed, some in just their underwear—some of them inwetunderwear that left nothing to the imagination…
That led to another snort. “’S not exactly a date, more of a hookup.”
“Where’d you take these guys? To a gay bar?” As if he didn’t already know the answer to that one.
Matt laughed out loud. “Are you kidding? There are no gay bars in Bozeman. Livingston’s okay—if you’re a lesbian—but there are still no bars.” He shrugged. “Bozeman’s safe enough. It’s not like I’m going to walk down the street holding a guy’s hand, right? We just take a room in the hotel off Highway 191. It’s a 1-star, but we’re not renting it for the decor, if you catch my drift.” He grinned. “At least the Wi-Fi’s free so we get to watch porn.”
It seemed little had changed in thirty years.
Matt jerked his head toward the door. “Sounds like they’re back from the trail. I’d better get on with lunch.” He held his hand out. “Can I have my phone, please?” Matt waggled his eyebrows. “Unless you want to take down a guy’s particulars?”
