FOR THE WHOLE AWKWARD, silent drive back home, Harlan berated himself for offering to let Ben stay with them. He still wanted Ben—badly—but he didn’t want Ben in his space. Not around Tanner. The small ranch was their haven from the rest of the world. It was security and safety, and Ben was a one-night deal. Okay, a two-night deal, plus breakfast. But Ben’s life was as unsettled as a life could be, and while Ben had been friendly and polite with Tanner at breakfast, he’d already proven that’s just how he was. It didn’t mean he actually liked kids.

And what did Harlan care, anyway? Ben wouldn’t be around long enough that his leaving would break their hearts. As soon as his truck was fixed, he’d be gone.

Except Harlan knew his son. Tanner had a way of making everyone he met a best friend, and Ben was a highly likeable guy. Harlan could stress that Ben was merely an old friend paying a short visit until he turned blue in the face, but Tanner would still ask when he was coming back with a hope in his eyes that would break Harlan every time. Harlan hated that deep down he’d be asking himself the same thing.

How was he going to balance the next couple of days wanting Ben in his bed but not wanting him in the house? He jumped out of the truck and into a foot of snow when they got back to the ranch. At least he had work and chores to keep him distracted from Ben and his gorgeous face, sexy dimples, and lean, hard body.

“Go on inside and make yourself at home,” he forced himself to say as he met Ben at the front of the truck. “I have chores to do.”

He whistled, and Cooper and Charlie came racing around from the back of the house—where they had a dog door to come and go through as they pleased—and danced around him and Ben. Even the damned dogs were already smitten with the man.

“Can I help?” Ben asked, sounding eager as he bent down to pet the dogs.

“Nope,” Harlan threw over his shoulder as he headed for the barn.

“I know my way around a barn,” Ben called after him. “Helping out where I can around here is the least I can do to repay you for looking out for me.”

Dammit. Harlan stopped, and his shoulders slumped. No should have been the only answer, but he could put Ben to work shoveling stalls while he worked the horses in the indoor arena. Then he’d have more training time while keeping Ben at a distance.

Harlan turned around. “Fine.” He pushed his hat back and rubbed his forehead. “You got any boots other than those fancy ones?”

Ben shook his head, and the bright light in his eyes began to dim. Harlan cursed himself for how well that didn’t sit with him. “I got a pair that’ll probably fit you in the mudroom. Drop your gear and meet me in the barn.”

Ben nodded, heading for the house while Harlan went the other way. The dogs stayed where they were, their loyalties divided as to who to follow, and Harlan shook his head as they charged after Ben.

Traitors.

“What do you want me to do?” Ben asked when he entered the barn wearing Harlan’s boots, his two Aussies trotting along beside Ben.

Harlan held out a shovel and pointed to a wheelbarrow. “Start with cleaning the stalls. I didn’t get a chance to this morning.” It wasn’t that he didn’t have time; it was that he had wanted to be in the house when Ben woke up. He’d hoped to have gotten Tanner off to school before then, too. “Soiled shavings into the wheelbarrow, dump it out behind the barn, then refill with fresh shavings under the lean-to.”

“You got it, boss.” Ben grinned, causing twin dimples to make an appearance and Harlan’s body to take note.

He scowled and headed for the tack room. Having Ben here was a stupid idea. Maybe he’d call Joe and offer to pick up the damn truck part himself so Ben could get going sooner.

“You’re not cleaning stalls, too?”

“Nope. Got horses to train.” Harlan left Ben in the barn, and for a while, his plan to keep his mind and body focused elsewhere worked. Almost.

A couple of hours later, he was finishing up running patterns with a spirited gelding named Doc when Ben appeared at the arena gate. He hooked a boot on the lower rail and rested his elbows on the top. He didn’t say anything, and Harlan did his level best to ignore him. Unfortunately, he was at the end of his session. He grudgingly climbed out of the saddle and led his mount toward the exit.

Ben opened the gate, and Harlan nodded his thanks as he passed by without making eye contact. Nonetheless, he felt Ben’s gaze on his back like a branding iron. He paused outside, waiting for Ben to close the gate so he could pull the large arena doors shut, hyperaware of Ben’s every move.

“So, uh . . . your son, Tanner?” Ben asked the inevitable, his boots crunching in the snow as he trudged along behind Doc. Harlan was actually surprised it had taken him that long to get around to asking. “I take it you and his mom are divorced?”

Harlan shook his head as he led Doc into the barn. “No wife.” Inside, he slipped off Doc’s bridle and replaced it with a halter, then clipped him into the cross ties before going about removing his saddle and grooming him. It annoyed him that people automatically thought if he had a son, he had a wife. Not all families were created that way.

“I was married,” he said. “My husband and I wanted to start a family together so we went the surrogate route. But I wanted a family more than Jason did, it turned out. I just never saw the signs until after the fact. Tanner was born, and at first everything was great, but then one day Jason packed up his things when we weren’t home, and never came back. Divorce papers arrived shortly after.”

“Shit.” Ben picked up a curry comb from a tack box in front of Doc’s stall and started to brush his other side in long strokes. “I’m so sorry, Harlan.”

Harlan shrugged. Shit was right, but he had moved on, and life was perfect for him and Tanner now. Mostly. “It’s in the past. He’s been gone four years now.”

“You haven’t seen him since? Not even for Tanner?”

Harlan pursed his lips and clenched his jaw. That was what had hurt the most. Jason hadn’t just left Harlan. He’d abandoned his son, too. More than that, he’d denounced Tanner as even his at all.

“What an asshole,” Ben snapped, surprising Harlan at the vehemence in his voice. “I’m sorry, but people who do anything that hurts children deserve a special place in Hell.”

Harlan nodded slowly, grateful to meet someone who understood while at the same time cursing his body’s reaction to the fire sparking in Ben’s eyes. Angry Ben was a turn on, but even if Ben really did like kids, he was still leaving.

“Tanner couldn’t understand why his poppa left,” Harlan said. “It’s been me and Tanner ever since, and I’ve made damned sure he hasn’t wanted for anything.”

Ben was quiet for a long moment, his assessing gaze boring into Harlan over Doc’s withers in a way that made him self-conscious. Harlan tore his gaze away, tossing his brush into the tack box and grabbing a hoof pick. At least cleaning hooves meant he couldn’t look at Ben.

Ben’s voice was a soft rumble when he asked, “Is that why you don’t want me here?”

Harlan’s first impulse was to deny it, but the vulnerable note in Ben’s voice plucked at his heartstrings. He didn’t want Ben to feel unwanted, but at the same time, he needed him to understand his situation. No matter how attracted Harlan was to Ben, no matter how much he wanted him, Tanner came first.

Harlan released Doc’s leg and stood to face Ben. “It’s not that I don’t want you here,” he found himself answering honestly. “I actually do. Surprisingly. But I won’t risk Tanner getting attached to someone and having them put us through what Jason did again.”

Ben’s eyes narrowed, and his mouth pressed into a flat line. The change was subtle, but Harlan caught it and immediately regretted his candor.

“I know you don’t know me very well,” Ben said, the affront clear in his voice, “and I know nothing about your ex other than what you just told me, but I can guarantee you right now, I am nothing like him.”

“I’m sorry.” Harlan took a step back and held up a hand in supplication. “I didn’t mean to imply you were. It’s true I don’t know you well, but I do know you’re not like him. It’s just . . . You’re an on-the-road musician still looking for your purpose in life and trying to figure out what you want. And I won’t bring anyone into Tanner’s life who isn’t stable and settled.”

Ben raised his eyebrows. “So you’re saying I’m too high-risk?”

Harlan sighed. He was doing a shit job of explaining this. He softened his tone. “Everyone is too high-risk until Tanner is older. Maybe after he goes to college.”

Silence fell between them, thick and oppressive, and Harlan hated every second of it but didn’t know what to say. Doc took the lead by stamping a foot and snorting. The moment broke.

“Once burned twice shy, then,” Ben said, his tone flat and expression shuttered so Harlan couldn’t get a read on him. “Thank you for telling me.”

Harlan tilted his head. “Sure.”

Ben nodded and then turned to drop the curry comb back in the tack box. “Well, if you don’t need me for anything more out here—” he stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked out beyond the barn doors “—I think I’ll go in the house and work on some songs.”

“Ben, I . . .” Harlan walked over to stand in front of Ben. He stared into those golden brown eyes and itched to reach out and touch him, but he kept his hands glued to his sides.

“Don’t worry, I get it.”

Harlan watched Ben walk out of the barn, both dogs at his heels, and wanted to tell him to stop, that he did want him, but the words wouldn’t budge from his throat. This was for the best anyway. Tanner’s well-being came first.

“Hey, buddy,” Harlan said when Tanner climbed up into the truck later that day. He’d left Ben at the house when he’d gone to pick his son up from school. “How was your day?”

“Awesome! We made snowmen at recess,” Tanner said with all the enthusiasm of an eight-year-old as he stuffed his backpack on the floor and buckled his seat belt.

“What kind of learning is that?” Harlan teased.

Tanner rolled his eyes. “It was recess, Dad.”

Harlan chuckled and ruffled Tanner’s hair.

“And look what I made in pottery class.” Tanner dug around in his bag and pulled out a roughly round-shaped bowl. It was a couple of inches deep and painted a brownish red with two blue eyes painted on the bottom. On the outside was a black nose and there were two ears stuck to the inside rim—one red and one white that flopped over at the top. “A food bowl for Cooper. Next class I’m going to make one for Charlie.”

“Wow, Tan. That is really good.” Harlan grinned. He wanted Tanner to explore everything as he grew up, and on Mondays after school he had pottery class. Then he had swimming on Wednesdays and Spanish lessons on Fridays. He always spent weekends doing ranch chores with Harlan, going to rodeos with him when they were nearby, or getting time in with his grandparents. The kid’s life was a full one, and Harlan loved every minute of it. “Cooper will love it.”

“Thanks,” Tanner said with pride in his voice. “I was going to make you a coffee cup but you have too many.”

Harlan laughed. “True. But I don’t have one made by you.”

“Okay.” Tanner carefully replaced the dog bowl bag in his bag. “I’ll make you one after I make Charlie’s bowl.”

“Deal.” Harlan turned onto the narrow country road that led to their ranch. “You know my friend Ben who you met this morning? He’s going to be staying with us for a couple more days until his truck is fixed, okay?”

Tanner shrugged nonchalantly. “Okay.”

Harlan grinned again, and his heart swelled. Tanner was such an amazing kid. He would never understand how Jason could have walked away from them when Harlan would lay down and die for Tanner.

A few minutes later, Harlan opened the back door to the mudroom, and the tantalizing scent of barbeque sauce and apple cider accosted him. His mouth watered, and his stomach rumbled.

“Whoa, what smells so good?” Tanner exclaimed, kicking off his boots and shrugging out of his jacket. He ran for the kitchen.

“Wash up first, Tan,” Harlan said as he trailed behind.

Ben looked up when Harlan stepped into the kitchen, a mixture of hope and guilt on his handsome face, and the strongest urge to kiss him came over Harlan. “I hope it’s okay I made dinner. You had everything I needed for my favorite apple cider ribs.”

Other than letting Ben know he was going to pick up Tanner, he and Ben hadn’t spoken since Harlan had stuck his foot in his mouth earlier. That Ben had gone to the effort of making a nice meal for them was unexpected . . . and begrudgingly welcome.

“I’m not one to turn down a home-cooked meal,” Harlan rasped through a suddenly dry throat. Neither he nor Ben made a move, and the atmosphere edged on awkward.

Until Tanner charged back into the kitchen and pulled up a chair at the kitchen table.

“Uh, can I help with anything?” Harlan asked, taking a step back.

Ben shook his head, his smile soft. “Just sit. I’ve got it all covered.”

It was only then that Harlan noticed Ben had set the table, too, and for a second, Harlan’s dream of a whole family flashed in his mind. He shook his head and took a seat at the head of the table. Tanner sat to his right, and a place setting for Ben was to his left.

Once Ben served them and then sat down, Harlan fought to keep from slipping back into the fantasy. This was the scene, but Ben couldn’t be the man.

One thing was for sure, though, Ben’s ribs were to die for.