Chapter Nine

Brian sat on a porch swing, his hand resting on Rush’s thigh. Rush’s arm was wrapped around his shoulder, and he was snuggled tight against the cowboy’s chest. Their boots were propped up on the rail.

It felt like home.

Darkness flooded in and the scene changed.

Brian lay on his back, the hard, cold ground beneath him. Overhead, the stars flickered as clouds moved across a dark sky.

He was terrified, unable to move, frozen to the spot, and his heart beat as if it would fly right out of his chest. At the unmistakable sound of a rifle’s bolt being slid back, he searched the blackness of the night.

Rush stood a few yards away with a rifle pointed down at him.

“Don’t!” Brian’s shout seemed to take forever coming out of his mouth, the sound of the word long and exaggerated as if time had slowed.

The flash from the muzzle was followed a nanosecond later by the crack of the shot.

Brian bolted up in bed with a shout, his arms fighting the sheets. Chest heaving, he swung his legs over the edge and cradled his head in his hands as he sucked in air.

Shit. What was that? Nightmare? Premonition?

Whatever it was, he didn’t like it. It felt just like his hunches—dead certain. How the hell would they ever get to the point where Rush would try to kill him?

After launching himself off the bed, he went to the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face. As he stared into the mirror, he could see the effects of last night’s drinking on his gray-tinged skin.

A moment later, his stomach rebelled and he lurched to the toilet.

 

* * * *

 

Brian stared at the name on the small display screen.

Rush. Again.

With a deep sigh, he shoved his phone back into its holder clipped to his belt. His anger of the day before had cleared like the alcohol he’d consumed to ease his pain, leaving only sadness and frustration and a hangover that was kicking his ass.

With a groan, he remembered that he should call Sammi. He needed to report what he’d learned in Austin. He searched the contacts on his cell and hit Sammy’s number.

“I have some news for you,” he told Sammi after they’d said their hellos.

“Mitchell told me.” He heard the excitement in Sammi’s response.

“I’d like to meet you, not do it over the phone. When are you free?”

“I’m off on Sunday. Can you come by for lunch?”

“Sure. What time?”

“About one.” Sammi’s breathy voice, even over the phone, was sexy. “And, Brian? Thanks.”

“No thanks necessary. You’re paying me to do a job, remember?” Brian chuckled.

“Right. See you tomorrow.”

 

* * * *

 

Nothing was working right.

That afternoon at two, Rush had reined in his horse, motioned to the two hands he rode with to go on, pulled out his cell phone, and checked the time. He hit speed dial.

Brian’s number rang. And rang. And rang.

After five rings, Rush hung up.

Brian was probably blocking his calls. And he had every right to.

He stuffed the phone back into his pocket and urged his mare to catch up with the others. The rest of the day he’d been out of sorts, grumpy and just a plain pain in the ass to his men. Everyone was glad when their work was done.

Now, Rush lay in bed and yanked the pillow over his head to block the sight of the clock marking off the minutes of the rest of his goddamned life. A life without love, without someone to share it with. The ups and downs, the good times, the simple pleasures.

A life without Brian.

This was stupid. He was pining over a man he’d treated no better than a cheap hookup. Not only was he a coward and an asshole, he was an idiot. He’d made the choice. He’d been the one who ran away.

Once again, no one to blame but himself.

His dad must be laughing in his grave.

He heard his old man’s words as if he were right there. “There’s nothing for you on the primrose path, boy. Nothing but shame.” Travis Weston had stood over Rush, his fist still clenched. “I’m going to forget you ever said those words, boy. If you make me remember them again, you’ll get another taste of my fist and feel my boot in your ass when I kick you off my ranch.”

Rush had stood, wiped the blood from his mouth, and said, “Yes, sir.” He’d picked up his hat, brushed off the seat of his jeans, and climbed back on his horse.

“Thank sweet Jesus I still have Robbie.” With those words, his father had mounted and galloped off, leaving Rush understanding exactly where he’d stood.

And as long as his father had lived, Rush had never again spoken of his unnatural nature nor acted on it.

 

* * * *

 

“Lunch was great, Sammi. If you’re not careful, Mitchell, you’re going to wind up fat.” Brian laughed.

“I’ve told him that, but he just makes me work out harder at the gym. His regimen is brutal.” Mitchell shook his head but gazed lovingly at Sammi sitting across the table from him.

“Admit it, Mitch. You love when I work you hard.” Sammi winked.

Brian knew something had passed between them because Mitchell blushed.

“Hey, let’s not go there,” Mitchell said.

“Please. TMI, guys.” Brian held up his hands. “I don’t want to know. Really.”

Sammi sobered and asked, “So, what is the news?” His fists clenched on the tabletop. Mitchell reached out and covered the fist with his hand. Sammi relaxed, turned his palm up, and their fingers interlocked.

“First, this is your deal, Sammi. If you don’t want Mitchell to hear any of this, say so now.” Brian peered into his eyes, almost hidden behind a long swath of black bangs.

“I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for Mitchell. And you. He’s been my support, and without him, I’d have never believed I could be anything more than a whore.” He raised Mitchell’s hand to his lips and kissed it. “He stays.”

“Good.” Brian gave a short nod and a wink at Mitchell. “I found your records. Everything.” He pulled a piece of folded paper from his shirt pocket and slid it across the table to Sammi.

Sammi’s Adam’s apple bobbed and his gaze darted to Mitchell’s.

“Go on, babe. Open it. The future awaits,” Mitchell whispered and let go of Sammi’s hand.

Sammi opened it, read it, then handed it to Mitchell. “It’s all there, Mitch. Even my name.”

Mitchell scanned it and glanced up. “This is great, babe. You can get your birth certificate and social security. You’re Mr. Samuel Waters, now.”

“My driver’s license! I can’t wait!” Sammi bounced in his seat. “Can I finally drive the Jetta?”

“Yep.” Brian grinned at him.

“Can I get a credit card?” Sammi asked, tears pooling in his dark eyes.

“If you want one. But I think a bank account should come first.” Mitchell grinned.

“He just gets tired of me stashing my pay in the dresser,” Sammi shot back as he reached for a napkin to wipe the tears from his eyes.

Mitchell laughed. Sammi got up, came around the table, and threw his arms around Brian. Then he leaned down and kissed him on the cheek.

Brian felt the heat rise in his face, but he returned the hug. “I’m glad for you, Sammi.”

Sammi straightened. “Now”—he sniffed—“how much do I owe you?”

Brian produced another folded paper. “Here’s my bill. Ninety days, same as cash.”

Sammi opened it, read it, then dashed off.

“Where’s he going?” Brian asked Mitchell.

“He wasn’t joking about the money in the drawer. He’s got it laid out nice and neat, as if he were a bank teller. My socks had to find a home in a basket in the closet.” Mitchell shrugged.

Sammi returned, laid two hundred-dollar bills and two twenties on the table, and said, “I hope you don’t mind large bills?”

“Nope. Spends the same as small.” Brian gathered the money and placed it into his wallet. “We’re settled. Give me the bill, and I’ll mark it paid in full.”

Transaction complete, Sammi opened the refrigerator and grabbed the dessert.

“Chocolate mousse.”

“Don’t forget the whipped cream, babe.” Mitchell licked his lips as Sammi placed a tall dessert glass in front of each of their seats and added a dollop of cream on top of the rich chocolate.

“Oh, man. I can see the gym in your future, my friend.” Brian picked up his spoon and dug in. “Mine, too.”

Brian’s phone chirped but he made no move to answer it.

“Aren’t you going to get that?” Mitchell asked, pointing with his spoon at the phone clipped to Brian’s belt.

“Nope. I know who it is.”

“Who?” Sammi asked.

“Rush.” Brian dropped his eyes to his dessert.

“Your cowboy?” Sammi sat up.

“He’s not my cowboy anymore. Didn’t Mitchell tell you?”

“He told me.” Sammi’s eyes narrowed as he stared at Brian. “He’s still yours. In your heart.”

Brian glanced up and met his gaze. “Damn. I keep forgetting you can hear my thoughts.” He shook his head.

“And your feelings. Not as clearly as I hear Mitchell, of course.”

“He’s right, isn’t he?” Mitchell watched Brian, the look of disappointment on his face making Brian self-conscious.

“I know I should hate him for what he did. I know it. Really I do, but…” Brian shrugged and shoved another bite of mousse into his mouth.

“You want him.” Sammi’s simple words summed it all up.

“How long are you going to let Rush twist in the wind?” Mitchell finished his dessert, stood, and put the dish in the sink. He began rinsing the lunch plates and silverware and loading the dishwasher.

“Forever.” Brian handed Mitchell his empty glass.

“But he’s the one.” Sammi frowned and reached for Brian’s hand. At his touch, Brian felt a wave of hope pass through him, sent by Sammi. Damn, but he had some awesome powers. They made his appear small in comparison. He wouldn’t mind trading for a while. He could feel thoughts and feelings of his lover and Sammi could have the freaky hunches.

“I had a…well, I think it was a dream, but it felt just like one of my hunches. Only I’ve never had one come to me while I was asleep.”

“That must mean it’s really important.” Sammi leaned his hip against the counter and stared at Brian.

“So spill it.” Mitchell stopped washing dishes.

“There were two. In the first one, I was sitting on a porch swing with Rush. I think it must have been his ranch. We were just sitting. Enjoying the view. His arm was around my shoulders. I felt at peace. Like I belonged there.”

“That’s good,” Sammi encouraged him. “Then what?”

“It all changed. It was night. I was lying on the ground somewhere. It was cold, and I was really scared, but I couldn’t move. It was like I was paralyzed.”

“Creepy.” Mitchell grimaced.

“The creepy part was that Rush was standing there pointing a rifle at me. The rifle went off, and I woke up.” He shrugged. “That’s it.”

“Goddamn, Brian. What does it mean?” Mitchell whispered.

“That Rush is going to shoot me?” Brian shrugged.

“That can’t be. You love him.” Sammi shook his head, sending his bangs swinging.

Mitchell ran his hand over his face. “You’ve only been talking to this guy for a short time and now you’re in love?”

“Maybe.” Brian shrugged. “No.” He rolled his eyes. “Maybe.”

“Christ. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m a big boy. I’ve had my heart broken before. I’ll live.”

Sammi leaned forward. “But…he loves you.”

“How do you know he loves me?” Brian growled. “He’s never said how he feels about me, other than I turn him on.”

Sammi looked at Mitchell.

“I don’t care what you feel, Brian. Stay away from that fucking cowboy. Your life may depend on it. We both know your hunches are never wrong.” Mitchell’s face was fierce, and Brian’s hackles rose at Mitchell’s tone.

“Going to protect me? Save me from myself?” Brian’s hands curled into tight fists as he faced off with his best friend.

“Well, someone has to,” Mitchell replied.

“You forget I carry a gun?” Brian cocked his head to the side.

“Where was your gun in that dream? That bastard is going to try to kill you.” Mitchell glared at Brian, as angry and hard as his words.

Brian, ready to defend the man he loved, opened his mouth. All right. He’d said it, even if it had been only to himself. Maybe he did love Rush. And he couldn’t believe that Rush would ever try to kill him. Shutting his mouth, he swallowed the words he was about to say.

Sammi swooped in, wrapping his arms around his lover’s chest. “Mitch. Sweetheart. You need to let Brian handle this.” He kissed Mitchell’s throat, nipped at his ear in a blatant attempt to defuse the situation.

As Brian watched, Mitchell seemed to melt under the younger man’s kisses. Shit, if anyone was doing that to him, he’d melt, too. There was no telling what Sammi was telling Mitchell right now. Knowing the two of them and their inability to keep their hands off each other, Brian was sure it had to do with sex.

Mitchell relaxed and pulled Sammi in for a kiss. Mitchell moaned, and Sammi opened his mouth as the men deepened their kiss.

“All right. That’s it. I’m leaving.” Brian chuckled.

The lovers broke apart and grinned at him. “Sorry.” Mitchell shrugged.

“No, you’re not. I better get out of here before the clothes start coming off.” He walked to the front door, opened it and gave the guys a loose salute. “Later.”

“Later,” they called.

Just as Sammi jumped into Mitchell’s arms and the two lovers slid to the floor, Brian shut the door.

His cock had hardened just watching them. Brian wanted to go home and jerk off. Shit, it was the middle of the day, and he’d planned to spend the rest of the afternoon doing yard work.

God, he missed Rush. Even though they’d only spoken on the phone a few times, he missed the phone calls. And now that they’d finally been together, in the hot, aching flesh, he would miss their incredible sex.

Mitchell might be right. He might have fallen for Rush too fast and too hard. Put his heart out on the line for a man he didn’t really know much about, except how much Rush turned him on and made him long for more.

How could he be so wrong about Rush and the kind of man he was?

No. No fucking way.

He could believe Rush was scared. Believe Rush feared leaving the safety of his closet on the ranch.

But nothing would ever make him believe Rush was a danger to him.