AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Good. Wyatt knew the basic skills. All he needed to do was hone them, and being around guys other than Jackson would help. And he was perfectly safe out in the pastures with Michael, who was both a great horseman and also happily in love with someone else. Jackson’s possessiveness over Wyatt annoyed him, but he and Wyatt hadn’t officially broken up. They were in this weird holding pattern.
A holding pattern Jackson needed time to get out of, and Wyatt was giving him both time and space to figure things out. To understand why Wyatt had done things the way he had instead of trusting Jackson enough to be honest about his intentions.
Jackson worked in the barn most of the day, taking his lunch break early and in his truck to avoid Wyatt. He somehow managed to not speak with Brand or Hugo all day, too, and when Jackson clocked out for the day he kind of regretted how distant he’d been with all his coworkers. But no one in the know was pushing him. He’d just have to be a little less standoffish tomorrow so Michael or Rem didn’t start to suspect anything was wrong.
A lot was wrong but Jackson didn’t want to talk about it. Not yet.
Not in the mood to be alone, Jackson went to the Roost for a beer and a burger. Dog was content to chill on the front seat with a piece of beef jerky to keep her company. He didn’t normally like leaving her in the truck, but it was a chilly night and with both windows cracked, she’d be fine.
Jackson wasn’t at all surprised when Ramie came out from behind the bar to deliver his burger personally. “Look, I know we aren’t exactly friends,” she said softly, “and the only thing we really have in common is we both used to fuck Brand and we love this place’s bleu cheese and bacon burger, but if you ever need to talk about what’s going on, you can vent to me.”
Jackson stared at her, surprised by the offer. “As his roommate, aren’t you on Wyatt’s side?”
“No, I’m not. I get where he’s coming from, but his subterfuge hurt Brand and that hurts me. He hurt you the most, though, judging by the sad-face emoji hanging in the air over your head.”
“I guess more sad-face than angry-face is an improvement. Thanks, Ramie. I appreciate the offer but I just gotta work through this on my own.”
“Heard and understood, but my door is always open. So to speak. Enjoy the burger.” She went back behind the bar and straight to the guy holding up a twenty-dollar bill. Ramie moved with such confidence and grace that he kind of envied her and her comfortable place in the world. Jackson had never possessed that sort of peace and comfort.
Except when he’d been with Wyatt, who’d accepted everything about Jackson and cared about him anyway. If Wyatt could accept Jackson killing a man, then maybe Jackson could work through Wyatt lying to him.
Maybe.
The burger was perfection and it hit the spot in terms of hunger. Not so much with his emotions, so he indulged in a second beer before driving home. It only vaguely struck him that Ramie hadn’t been behind the bar when he paid his tab because he would have thanked her again for trying to be his friend, but even the best bartenders got breaks.
He had a few minutes before they closed to buy some lunch fixings at the general store, mostly lunchmeat and bread, and then he headed home. He put his groceries away, filled Dog’s food dish, then paced for a while, unable to settle. His instincts were bouncing all over the place, telling him something wasn’t right. He put a leash on Dog and walked the perimeter of the motel with her, but all the doors were locked, no windows broken. Nothing wrong around this place.
But he couldn’t shake the sense that something was wrong elsewhere. And the feeling left him restless for a long time.
Wyatt poked at the plate of chicken-fried steak and mashed potatoes he’d ordered for dinner, less interested in actually eating it than in turning it into impressionist art. He hadn’t wanted to go home and sit around alone tonight, so he’d first driven over to the Roost, but as soon as he saw Jackson’s truck, he’d changed plans and headed over to the diner instead. He recognized Shelby Woods immediately from all the pictures Rem had shown him, but she wasn’t working his sections tonight.
Work today had been fine, even though it stung that Jackson had done everything possible to avoid being near him. Wyatt just wanted a word, one single word spoken in his direction, even if it was as simple as a “Hey.” He hadn’t even gotten that out of the angry older cowboy.
A body moved past his table, then backtracked and stopped. Wyatt looked up, curious if it was the bus-person trying to claim his plate before he mashed it further into oblivion. Instead, a guy around his age, probably older, smiled down at him. He held a plastic take-out bag in one hand and a paper tray with three drinks in the other.
“Hi,” the man said. “We haven’t met, but I’m going to take a stab that you’re Wyatt Gibson?”
“Yeah, I am.” Random strangers knowing who he was put his hackles up. “You are?”
“Josiah Sheridan, Michael’s boyfriend.” He hefted the bag. “I was picking up dinner for me, him, and his dad when I spotted you. Michael has mentioned you and I wanted to say hello. Welcome to town.”
“Thanks, it’s nice to meet you.” There was something soothing about Josiah, and he tried to remember—oh yeah, Josiah was an in-home care nurse. “You guys have the camper I was supposed to rent when I first got here.”
“That’s us. Thankfully, we fixed the problem and it’s available again if you’re ever in need. I lived in it for a while before I began dating and eventually moved in with Michael.”
“I appreciate that. I think I’m good where I am right now, but I’ll keep it in mind.” Even though the conversation about his first eight weeks was closing in fast, Ramie hadn’t said a thing about him finding a new place to stay. He liked having a roommate and he liked Ramie’s quirky decorating tastes. He liked Jackson’s motel room and remote location a hell of a lot more, though. Plenty of room for two people, plus Dog.
“Well, it was nice to meet you, Wyatt. I won’t keep interrupting your dinner.”
“It was great meeting you too, Josiah.”
Josiah made his way out of the diner, and Wyatt stared blankly at the door for a few seconds, before remembering his own food. He ate a couple more bites of steak and shoveled in some potatoes, mostly so he didn’t waste it all. Not that Ramie wouldn’t eat it cold out of the doggie bag if he took his leftovers home, which he decided to do about five minutes later. Sitting alone in the booth had lost its appeal, so he got his remnants wrapped up.
Time to go home.
For most of his life, going home meant back to the house shared by him, Mom, his stepfather and two step-siblings. It was a small two-story house with three bedrooms they’d moved into when Wyatt was eight, so Wyatt had shared with Peter for a few years until Peter moved away for college. A cramped space with a lot of people had been normal, until it was suddenly just Wyatt and his stepfather. Then he had craved his own space, which he’d sort of gotten with college.
He adored the space he had living with Ramie, because she was hardly ever home and she didn’t try to mother him. She gave him his freedom, only a few small rules, and they both lived their separate lives. It was the perfect living arrangement for two single people. He only hoped his dating status didn’t drop from “in a relationship” back into “single.” Somehow he had to win back Jackson’s trust and his love.
