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“Oh, cool,” Wyatt said. “Like I said, dumb question. I was just curious about the place, ’cuz it seemed like an easy solution to the problem. But totally cool, sir. Sirs?”
“Don’t sir me,” Hugo replied with a grin. “I’m an employee, same as you. I don’t get special treatment while on the job.”
Maybe when they were alone, but definitely not on the job.
“I can stay in a motel for a few days,” Wyatt said, “and look around for a room to rent or something. I mean, I looked at the map on my phone, and there are a few towns around here. There has to be something.”
“I hate for you to do that when I promised you a place,” Brand said. A nebulous idea came to him, but damn he’d probably owe her later. “Listen, do you have an hour or two to hang here, Wyatt? You can keep Hugo company while he plays with the tractor, or chill on the bunkhouse porch. I need to run into town for a bit.”
“I have absolutely nowhere to be for the rest of the day.” He pulled a cell out of his pocket. “Actually, I’ll probably wait in my car. I need to charge my phone before it dies.”
“You can use the charger in our place,” Hugo said. “I need to take a break and get something to drink anyway. I worked through lunch.”
“Great.” Brand checked his pocket for his own phone; he kept his truck keys in the cab out of habit and in case someone needed to use it in a hurry. “I’ll be back soon.”
Twenty minutes later, Brand strode into the Roost, a local dive bar he favored because of its cheap burgers and even cheaper beer. Plus, his best friend Rachel Marie “Ramie” Edwards bartended there. A petite woman with long black hair, a curvy figure she loved to show off with tight tops, and the kind of “don’t give me shit because I’ll serve it right back tenfold” attitude he loved, she stood behind the Roost’s bar drying a glass with a towel.
Her eyebrows lifted when she spotted him. “Playing hooky on a workday, boss?”
“Not exactly.” Brand rested his elbows on the bar rail, leaned in, and flashed her his most charming smile. “I have a favor to ask, and I think it’ll help us both out. When’s your next break?”
The only reason Wyatt had been able to keep his surprise at the “it’s our place” confession was because of his family’s obsession with keeping secrets. He’d long ago perfected his Calm Face, his Mildly Surprised Face, and his I’m So Happy, But Not Really Face. Maybe he couldn’t always control his body or stop from tripping over his own big feet, but he could definitely control his face in most situations and not trip over his expressions.
His Maybe Daddy was gay? How was that possible? Okay, dumb thought, because it wasn’t as though he’d never heard of such a thing before; he simply hadn’t expected it from his own old man. The blunt way Brand had admitted to the relationship, though, added a small ounce of respect to what little Brand had already earned by the simple fact he was Wyatt’s boss. The statement about Hugo being an employee on the clock with no special treatment? Yeah, time would tell on that one.
Wasn’t there a reason people were told not to work with their significant other?
Wyatt had downplayed the whole conversation to give himself time to absorb the news. The last thing he wanted was for either of those guys to think he was homophobic, especially if he wanted to befriend them and learn more about Brand. Hell, Wyatt had no room to judge them when he wasn’t even sure of his own sexuality, and wasn’t that exactly why he’d tried to pick up Jackson last night?
Too bad his need to try out his acting skills had gotten in the way and fucked up what could have been a great learning experience.
The way Jackson had talked about “sex, bondage, and asphyxiation” still made him shiver sometimes. Not the asphyxiation part, because no thank you. It had been his tone of voice. The subtle purr and promise.
His jeans got a bit uncomfortable, and Wyatt bit the inside of his cheek as he followed Hugo toward the bunkhouse. He didn’t care that Hugo and Brand were gay. He’d had gay classmates in high school and college, and one brief encounter with a guy at a party had shaken Wyatt’s previous assumption that he himself was straight. Even if it hadn’t, Wyatt wasn’t some sheltered asshole from the sticks; he just hadn’t expected to find it out about his possible bio dad.
Was that why Brand had left Wyatt’s mom, signed over his rights, and refused to be part of their lives? He banged a girl, figured out it wasn’t for him, and didn’t want anything to do with them? From everything Wyatt’s grandparents had told him about that time in his mother’s life, it was entirely possible. Maybe Mom had just been a sexual experiment gone wrong.
Too many questions and no answers yet. About both his past and his own sexuality.
Hugo opened the bunkhouse door, and Wyatt took a few extra moments this time to really take in the place. The small details like the shelf with framed pictures and a TV mounted on the wall in the living area. What looked like embroidered throw pillows on the couch. Two pairs of sneakers on a mat by the door, and hooks on the wall above for keys and coats. He could see now that a couple lived here, rather than just a bunch of cowboys.
“Charger’s over here.” Hugo lifted a cord plugged in near the dining table and chairs. A small round table with three metal chairs that looked like they been stylish thirty years before Wyatt was born.
“Thanks, man.” Wyatt’s phone was still half-charged, which was actually fine for a few more hours. Charging it had been an excuse to sit alone and do a bit more research about the names he’d learned today (particularly Hugo Turner and Elmer Pearce), but maybe he could get some information directly from the horse’s mouth. So to speak.
He sat in one of the chairs and plugged in the charger, pretending to fiddle with his phone for a few seconds. “Hey, do you think it’s okay if I get the Wi-Fi name and password?”
“Don’t see why not, since Brand hired you. Hold on, Brand keeps it written down in his office.” Hugo went into the office—apparently, he did get certain perks if he could go into the boss’s office without permission—and came back a moment later with an index card. “Here you go.”
“Thanks.” Might as well make conversation while he typed in the numbers. “So how long have you worked here?”
Hugo was washing his hands in the utility sink by a mini-fridge and microwave. “It’ll be a year next month. I actually grew up about ten miles from here and lived out of state for a long time before moving back.” He shut off the water. “You want something to drink?”
“Sure, thanks.” His phone connected and he pretended to type something else while observing Hugo. Hugo was good-looking in his own way and seemed nice enough. He moved comfortably through this space, delivering a bottle of water to Wyatt before getting something out of an upper cupboard. Wyatt also hadn’t missed the polite way Hugo had changed the subject about his employment.
He latched on to that. “So where did you work before here? I’m guessing you got hired with a lot more experience than me.”
“A lot more, yeah.” Hugo unwrapped a protein bar and sat in the chair opposite him. “I left after I graduated high school and traveled around the state for a while, doing odd ranching jobs, before I landed at a working dude ranch in Northern California. I really enjoyed that job and the people there, but I had unfinished business here, so when a spot opened up at the ranch, I applied. Wayne Woods hired me pretty fast, and I moved back.”
