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“I’m sorry.” He caught Russell’s gaze. “It’s just that….” Dammit, he didn’t want to go into this at a moment like this. He had spent too much time buried in the past.
“You’re here with me now,” Russell whispered as a log in the fire popped. “So just let it go. It’s just you and me, in a blizzard. There’s nowhere to go, and no one will interrupt us.” Russell lifted the blanket, and his head disappeared under it.
Rafe shivered for a second and then inhaled sharply as Russell’s lips surrounded him with the wettest heat he could imagine. “Russell,” he whispered, having no idea why he felt the need to be quiet. There was no one around to hear them. He could scream at the top of his lungs if he wanted to.
The only response he got was more suction and intensity. He gasped for breath as Russell sucked him harder. He grabbed the edge of the of the sofa cushion, holding it as his eyes rolled to the back of his head. Damn, this was incredible. And all he could do was hold still while Russell worked his magic with his mouth and hands.
“Jesus Christ!” Rafe cried as he half sat up when Russell took all of him, holding him deep. “What the hell are you doing to me?”
The only answer he got was a chuckle from under the blanket as Russell proceeded to push him higher. Closer and closer, Rafe gripped the last threads of his control while Russell drove him nearer to the point of no return.
He tried to hold out, giving Russell as much warning as he could before tumbling over the edge, his entire body thrumming with passion that spent itself in a wave of desire.
Rafe lay there, quiet and still, breathing deeply as Russell shuffled under the covers and finally joined him. Rafe drew him down, kissing and holding him as he floated on warm clouds that seemed to go on forever. “Give me a minute and….”
Russell kissed him again. “It’s okay. I came when you did,” he whispered, pulling the blanket around both of them. The fire popped a few times, and Rafe sighed softly, then got up and put another log on. He stirred it, then got the dogs settled on a blanket before joining Russell on the sofa. He climbed under the blanket and lay on his side, spooning Russell to him. As soon as he got comfortable, he closed his eyes. The last couple of nights, sleep had been elusive, but holding Russell relaxed him, and, letting out a long breath, he let sleep carry him.
When he woke again, the fire was nearly out, but the house was still warm, so the power must have come back on, even if the view out the living room window was nearly pure white. “It’s nice in here,” Russell whispered, kissing him as he stretched out. “I take it the snow is still falling?”
“Yes. How you thought you could travel in this…,” he chastised gently. “Your father has got to be worried sick.”
“I messaged him when you asked me to. So he should know I’m here.” Russell searched for his phone and held up the screen. “He’s seen it and is fine. Apparently the power was out at home too.” He settled back on the sofa while Rafe climbed off and hurried to the bedroom.
He dressed and then fed the dogs their breakfast. “I need to check on the horses and livestock.”
“I’ll come with you,” Russell offered.
“There’s no need. I’ll get the chores done quickly, and then we can have some breakfast and hunker down for the duration.” Rafe pulled on all his cold-weather gear, bundling up as much as he could before heading out to the barn.
The horses were fine, but the barn was colder than Rafe expected. He got the warmers going while he filled the mangers with hay and a few oats. Rafe also made sure that all the doors and windows were closed tightly to keep in the heat. Once that was done, he watered the horses and put light blankets on each of them before heading back outside to check on the cattle. He found them clustered together in the shelter of an outcropping, waiting out the storm. Rafe dropped off bales of feed from the back of his four-wheeler, made sure they had available water, then headed back inside.
As soon as he stepped inside, he was overwhelmed by the scent of bacon and pancakes. His belly rumbled while he took off his gear. Then he joined Russell in the kitchen just as he was pouring pancake batter onto the griddle. “I found some blueberries in the freezer, so I added them.”
“Sounds wonderful.” He sat down, and Russell put a heaping plate in front of him. “Where did you learn to cook like this?”
“Violet. She told me that a man should know how to cook basic things because not everyone was lucky enough to have someone like her cooking for them.” Russell grinned. “She made sure that when I found myself on my own, I could feed myself without having to resort to eating that ‘awful fast food’ all the time. I managed to learn to make a few basic dishes, and pancakes was one of them. Of course I can grill, and I know how to make a few other things pretty well. Heck, I could even make a basic chocolate cake from Violet’s recipe. But not much beyond that.” He brought his own plate to the table and sat across from Rafe. It was almost domestic.
Rafe had been on the road for so many years that even something as simple as sharing breakfast with someone else seemed like a big deal, especially since it was in his own house as opposed to a diner somewhere. “Thank you. These are delicious.”
“Violet gave me her recipe. She actually told me her secret, though she swore me to secrecy,” Russell said with delight. “She also told me that cooking for someone is a way to show you care.”
Rafe swallowed hard and felt himself smiling. That was certainly good to know. Not that Rafe intended to press. But if Russell wanted to make him pancakes, he’d eat them and be happily thankful.
“I’m grateful to her.” Rafe loaded up another forkful, then paused. “I think I need your help.”
Russell stopped eating. “What kind?”
“Old man Mendeltom. You heard my parents threatening to challenge Mack’s will when they were here. Well, Mendeltom stopped over, angry as hell because I’d whooped Duane’s ass at pool.” He rolled his eyes. “I think he’d been drinking—he let his mouth run away with him.”
“That sounds like him. If Grant Mendeltom spent as much time working as he does drinking and flapping his jaws, he’d be a lot better off.” Russell took a bite of bacon. “What did he say?”
“That when my parents break the will, they’ve agreed to sell him the ranch. It seems that he’s some sort of friend of theirs and has been in touch with my parents for years.” The thought made Rafe ill. “Poor Mack had little privacy, even after the family threw him aside. I bet they hounded the hell out of him, one way or another.”
“Jesus,” Russell breathed.
Rafe set down his fork and got up, grabbed the coffee pot, and refilled their mugs. “My parents live outside Denver in a small community with like-minded people. It’s a Fox News self-righteous feedback loop repeating the same views over and over. I’m surprised I managed to survive in that environment growing up.” He hated the person he’d been back then, terrified that someone would find out his secret. “Who the hell knows what crap Mendeltom has been feeding them, or what they think they know?”
“That may be,” Russell said. “But even I know that breaking a will is close to impossible. It requires a really high bar of proof. People can’t just walk in spouting their crap and have it taken seriously. Those suits can go on for a long time.”
