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Of course, the soreness could also have been from the vigorous fucking Boone and I had engaged in that morning. I spent quite a bit of time after that replaying that morning and the night before and every other second we’d spent together. I knew I was sporting a dopey grin on my face like a schoolboy with his first crush, but I couldn’t help it.

The downside to a crush, however, was the overwhelming uncertainty that came with it. I spent the rest of the day as visible as possible to anyone inside the ranch house, hoping Boone might catch sight of me and call me into his office to talk or fuck or at least say hello. But he didn’t.

I finished my chores in the opposite mood than I’d started them in. Gone was the peppy music in my ears, and now my head was filled with second thoughts and confusion.

After returning the mower to the machine shed, I made my way to the bunkhouse for a quick shower before dinner. I could hear the other hands in nearby shower stalls in the large bathroom, and Harrison’s voice called out good-natured teasing to Tyler that was almost enough to make me laugh.

“He’s one of us now, folks,” Harrison boomed. “For better or for worse, for poorer and more poorer, in sickness and in don’t-ask-me-to-nurse-your-sorry-ass…”

I let the words fade into the background as I thought about how kind and welcoming this group of people was. For some reason, I’d never spent much time anticipating what kind of welcome a gay man like me from a prep-school background in New York City would get among ranch hands in Wyoming. But there’d never been a single moment when these guys had made me feel ostracized. They’d given me hell just as much as they gave each other on a regular day, and there’d even been moments where they’d gone out on a limb to trust me.

These were good people. And I was glad they’d accepted Tyler as readily as they’d accepted me.

Tyler’s voice startled me out of my thoughts. “For fuck’s sake, I don’t need you to pledge your love to me, Harrison!”

Harrison’s deep chuckle made me grin as I finished rinsing the soap off my body. “To thee, I pledge my troth. Or is it trowth? Troth like water trough? Or troth like roast? Oh shit, you think Norma might be making roast tonight? I could go for some thick beef.”

Hiram’s voice cut through the noise. “You hear that, Hosser? Harrison wants your thick beef.”

PeeWee’s quiet laughter came from the stall on my other side.

“Norma’s tender beef, asshole,” Harrison said. “I’m only interested in heifers. No steers for me.”

“Bull,” Tyler shot back. “I ain’t no steer, jackass.”

I couldn’t hold back a snort. Tyler was going to fit in just fine.

After returning to my room, I nearly tripped over the luggage that was still packed and waiting by the door from when I’d planned to leave two days ago. I sat on the bed, staring at it and wondering if I should unpack.

Then I thought of Boone—how I hadn’t seen him all day, and I had no idea what kind of reception I was going to get from him at dinner. If he even made an appearance.

Maybe I should leave them packed, I thought to myself. Just in case I needed to make a quick getaway. Because if things were going to revert to how they were before—if Boone was going to be distant and untouchable—then I wasn’t sure I wanted to stay. Mucking stalls would be easy compared to pretending not to care about Boone rejecting me.

Finally, my growling stomach got the best of me. I decided to leave my bags to deal with later and pulled out a pair of clean jeans, a fresh T-shirt, and flip-flops to wear to dinner.

I entered the kitchen and joined the rowdy group already taking seats around the large kitchen table. Everyone was still giving Tyler affectionate hell, and Jed was throwing puppy eyes at Norma while she hustled to put the food on the table. I tried to join in the fun, but I felt anxious and jittery. My every nerve was trained on the door, waiting for Boone to make his appearance. I was half-afraid he wouldn’t show and half-afraid that he would but he’d treat me in the same reserved fashion as before.

And then, he was there. I felt his presence before I even laid eyes on him. I could feel him in the way the air in the room shifted. I could smell him as he neared—sweat and horse and hay and sunshine. I tried to be subtle in the way I turned to take him in. His jaw still sported the grizzled whiskers from our camping trip, and his fingers forked into his hair to displace his ever-present hat head.

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