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“Wow. That was really good. Thank you,” Bull said, wiping a smudge of mustard from the corner of his mouth. “I didn’t even realize what time it was.”
Fox had dragged Bull to one of the picnic tables he had set up near the produce stand and away from most of the crowd. Just as Fox thought, word had spread about the sheriff before they’d even made it home last night. The town council had called an emergency meeting and were already taking action. The grateful residents had come to Bull’s ranch to thank him, and he was over the moon about it.
“I’m so glad we don’t have to lay anyone off. We had a pretty rough winter with a lot of our outdoor activities being shut down. Most people want their riding lessons in the spring or summer.” Bull drank from his water bottle before he finished. “We did okay for the most part, but we don’t have to be so conservative now.”
“That’s great news.” Fox rubbed his hand up and down Bull’s hard thigh.
“It is. And a woman from a nursing home in Brooks County is talking with Marcy about doing a senior citizen visits contract.”
“Oh yeah?”
Bull bobbed his head. “Absolutely. That’s a great idea. They don’t do any horseback riding of course. But animals can be really therapeutic and comforting to older people… especially the ones in petting zoos.”
“Speaking of.” Fox stood and brushed the few crumbs from his shirt where Bull had fed him some chips. “I told Garvin I’d help him build some of the new playgrounds in the goat pens.”
Bull set his lunch tote to the side and spread his legs where he was sitting on top of the table. Fox recognized the invitation and went eagerly like a dog wanting affection from his master. Bull always got this look in his eye, and he got handsy anytime Fox did some work on the farm. He draped his arms over Bull’s shoulders and went for another taste of those soft lips, but his forehead kept hitting the brim of Bull’s hat. He removed it and dropped it onto the table, then went in on his now unobstructed path. And the kiss would’ve been nice if he wasn’t almost knocked over when Bull leapt to his feet as if he’d been struck in the back.
“Shit, fuck,” Bull cursed, yanking his hat up and aggressively brushing at the nothing on it.
Fox stood there dumbfounded for a second before he blurted, “Are you on crack? I’ve worked in narcotics for years, and your behavior right now is a dead giveaway.”
Bull slammed his hat back on his head, his eyes narrowed on him. “I’m not the crazy one here. You don’t ever throw a cowboy’s hat on the table. Are you trying to get me run over by a tractor?”
“A superstition.” Fox scoffed. “Is this supposed to be common knowledge?”
A sharp tug of Fox’s hip brought them pelvis to pelvis, and the way Bull was scowling down on him had his blood pumping faster, flooding lower. “Don’t put my hat on the damn table,” Bull growled.
Fox grinned, liking this game. “Or else…”
Bull tilted his head. The intensity in his eyes and the snarl of his lips had Fox preparing to be kissed until his lips were sore, but of course, Dale showed up at just the wrong damn time.
“Lunchtime is over, sweethearts,” he said, dismounting Brandy.
Fox inched away, wishing he had his stun gun. “You’re like a fucking cold sore, Dale. You just keep popping up at the worst possible times.”
Dale grinned, snatching Bull’s other bottle of water and downing it all in a few gulps. He crushed the plastic bottle in his big hand, then tossed it back into the tote before he parked his ass on top of the bench. “If I just ruined your chance to suck my friend’s face off, then I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“You would,” Fox mumbled under his breath, but Bull heard him and let out a small chuckle.
Dale took his gray hat off and set it on his kneecap, then ran both hands through his dirty-blond hair.
“See?” Bull pointed where Dale placed his hat, as if to say duh.
Fox waved them both off and was about to leave them to their afternoon work when he saw Rid approaching them almost hesitantly. His baby-blue eyes were fixed on Dale’s throat where he’d just finished guzzling water before they roamed over his face. How did Dale not know this freaking guy had the hots for him? Fox didn’t miss anything, even the things people thought they were hiding.
Dale noticed Rid coming, then whipped his gaze to Fox as if he remembered what he’d pointed out. Fox said quickly, “Pay attention this time, fuckface.”
Dale mouthed back, “Fuck you,” but he still sat taller and tucked his shaggy hair behind his ears before he shoved his hat back on his head.
