A WEEK HAD PASSED, and Ben still couldn’t stop thinking about Harlan and Tanner. He had never felt more like he’d belonged anywhere, with anyone, than he had with them. Harlan made his heart pound and his pulse race. Harlan and his son had welcomed him into their home, made him feel like a part of their small family—albeit reluctantly on Harlan’s part—and Ben had realized that it was exactly what he wanted.

And wasn’t that the whole purpose of his road trip? To figure out what he wanted for his life?

He loved playing for audiences, but since leaving Santa Bella, the energy didn’t feed him the way it used to. He found himself scanning the crowd every night for that sexy cowboy leaning back by the bar, undressing Ben with his mesmerizing green eyes.

What he wanted most wasn’t to be out on the road playing bars and small venues. It wasn’t fame and fortune and touring the world. It didn’t matter he if had an audience of two or two thousand. If he never played for anyone other than Harlan and Tanner for the rest of his life, he’d be in heaven. He could even travel with Harlan during rodeo season and play a few shows along the way.

He had to go back.

He was only booked for one more three-night stint in San Diego, and then his schedule was wide-open. He would go back. He had to see if what had sparked between them was still there, and if that something could grow into more. The signs were there. He’d felt it deep in his bones, where Harlan had settled himself without Ben even realizing until he’d left.

“I didn’t know what I was looking for was you,” Ben whispered in the empty room of another nondescript roadside motel.

That was it! He jumped from the bed and grabbed his notebook. Flipping open to a blank page, he began penning an original song for Harlan.

Charlie and Cooper followed Harlan outside and raced ahead toward the paddocks to round up the horses while Harlan put a bucket of grain and a couple flakes of grass-alfalfa mix in each stall. The routine used to be soothing, something he enjoyed rather than a chore. Lately, though, ever since Ben had left, everything seemed dull. Harlan had never thought he’d feel this way again. He and Jason had been together seven years, and he’d been deeply in love with his husband. He’d known Ben less than a week, and for whatever reason, his absence hurt nearly as much. More, even. And Harlan had known it was coming from the start.

He walked out to the paddock, where the dogs danced around the small herd as they made their way toward the gate. Poco led the way and flattened her ears at the dogs. Normally their antics would bring a smile to Harlan’s face, but he hadn’t found much worth smiling about recently.

He whistled, and the dogs obediently ran back to his side, staying out of the way as he opened the gate. The horses knew the routine and walked single file into the barn and to their own stalls, where they enthusiastically dug into their dinners. Harlan went about checking each horse over before closing their doors and settling them in for the night—Doc’s hind leg was healing nicely from the soft tissue injury a couple of weeks back, which was a relief.

Both dogs’ ears perked up and they bolted out of the barn. Charlie nearly tripped Harlan on his way.

“What the hell, you two?” he grumbled. They were probably off to chase opossums.

“I wrote a song for you.”

The familiar baritone startled Harlan as he closed the last stall door. He spun around, and there stood Ben in the barn entry, backpack over one shoulder, guitar case in hand, and two crazy Aussies dancing around his legs vying for his attention. Harlan’s heart shot into his throat, cutting off his ability to speak. Even if he had been able to form words, his mind was still trying to figure out what his eyes were seeing.

“I . . . um . . .” Ben stuck his free hand in his jacket pocket. His Adam’s apple bobbed. “I got to San Diego and found what I’d set out on the road to find.”

Harlan’s heart sank. Ben came all the way back to tell him that? He would rather Ben had not come back at all. Not able to keep looking at what he couldn’t have, he turned away to double-check that the stall door he’d just closed was . . . still closed.

“It’s here. With you,” Ben said with a note of hope in his gritty rumble of a voice. “If you’d be willing to give us a try.”

Harlan snapped his head back to face Ben, and the roller coaster in his chest crested another hill. Yes, he wanted to shout, but his vocal cords remained stuck.

“Unless I read everything wrong?” Ben’s shoulders lowered as an eyebrow rose, and his body seemed to close in on itself. “I-I’m sorry, I sh-should g—”

Harlan’s paralysis broke. He ran to Ben, crashing into him. He cupped his face in both hands and kissed him like his life depended on it. Like Ben was an oasis in the desert. Like Harlan hadn’t taken a full breath of air since Ben had left and now that he was back, Harlan could finally breathe again.

Without breaking the kiss, Ben let his backpack slide off his shoulder and dropped his guitar case to the ground. Both his arms wrapped around Harlan and pulled him close, their bodies pressed together so tightly not even a feather could squeeze between them.

“I missed you,” Harlan panted against Ben’s mouth, eliciting a groan that reverberated along Harlan’s every nerve ending.

“Me too.” Ben ground against him. “Please say we can try?”

“We can try,” Harlan quickly answered between kisses, sliding his hands into Ben’s hair and knocking off his cowboy hat. “Starting now. Tan’s at swim lessons.”

Harlan stepped back, his chest rising and falling with rapid, feverish breaths. He grabbed Ben’s hand with one of his own and picked up the guitar case with the other. Ben retrieved his backpack, and Harlan led him into the house with long, urgent strides. The dogs jumped and danced and barked along with them, excited about their humans’ fun new game. But when they reached the back door, Harlan locked them in the mudroom.

“Stay,” he commanded. Ben was all his right now. The dogs could play with him tomorrow. Harlan huffed a hysterical-sounding laugh. There would be a tomorrow, and another after that, and another . . .

Harlan dropped the guitar case on the couch as they passed through the living room, and Ben’s backpack ended up somewhere on the floor. He really didn’t care where. The only thing that mattered right then was Ben naked in his bed.

“Clothes off,” he ordered when they entered his bedroom. He let go of Ben’s hand and attacked his shirt buttons like they were a crime, hiding all the glory that was Ben underneath.

“Right to it, eh?” Ben teased as his shirt fell to the floor.

“Can’t wait.” Harlan left Ben to finish undressing himself, and he made quick work of stripping out of his own clothes. “Feels like I’ve been waiting forever.”

Naked, finally, Harlan paused to take in the glorious sight of Ben standing proud and uninhibited before him. Here. In his house. His room. Soon, his bed. His hair was messy, and his heart-melting brown eyes shone with so much intensity that Harlan could feel it like a physical touch. His body was lean and his muscles sharply defined. Dark hair swirled over his pecs and abdomen, leading down to the most beautiful fully erect cock Harlan had ever laid eyes and hands and mouth on.

“Come here,” he said hoarsely.

Ben closed the few feet between them like a bullet, and Harlan tumbled onto the bed under the force of Ben’s weight. The blazing heat of his skin seared every inch of Harlan where they touched—branding him, burning, setting him on fire. A flurry of hands caressed and massaged, pinched and grabbed, and Harlan lost track of which were his and which were Ben’s.

“I want you to ride me,” he rasped.

“Yessss,” Ben hissed, kissing and sucking his way along Harlan’s collarbone, up the column of his neck, and over his jawline.

“And tomorrow I want to feel you deep inside me.”

A pained growl rose from Ben’s throat, and he dropped his forehead to Harlan’s. “Oh my god, Harlan.”

Harlan snickered, running his hands up and down the sides of Ben’s ribs, sliding back and squeezing handfuls of his firm butt. “You like?”

“I’d like everything more if you’d hurry up and get me ready.” The urgency in Ben’s voice added fuel to Harlan’s already pounding blood.

“Yes, sir.” Harlan bucked up, dislodging Ben so he could reach for supplies in the nightstand.

With deft fingers, he worked Ben open, slowly, teasingly, while his tongue dueled with Ben’s, and his mind started having trouble forming coherent thought. Everything was touch and feel and scent. Everything was Ben. When he was ready, Harlan suited up and guided Ben over him, and then let Ben take the reins. He was in control now, and Harlan marveled at the way Ben could so completely and freely lose himself to Harlan. He pulled Ben down with a hand behind his neck and kissed him with all the want and desire that he’d been forced to bury when Ben left. He sucked on Ben’s tongue, held it between his teeth, and when Ben fully seated himself, Harlan froze. His vision doubled as his body vibrated with the need to move.

“Ready, cowboy?” Ben invited, grinning.

“Giddy up,” Harlan urged with a thrust of his hips.

Ben’s eyes rolled back, and then he began to move in long, slow, deep strokes up and down. Harlan bit his lip, gaze locked on Ben as he moved, falling deeper and deeper into those beckoning brown depths, and Harlan let himself go. This was the man he hadn’t known he’d wanted. This was the start of the family he’d longed for his whole life. As much as he’d avoided truly connecting with anyone since Jason, Harlan knew without a doubt that he and Ben would be together until they were old and gray and couldn’t ride a horse anymore. It seemed illogical to feel so certain of someone he’d known for all of two shakes of a lamb’s tail, but he couldn’t argue the rightness of it.

Ben’s pace increased, his rhythm growing jerky, and Harlan’s thoughts fractured. Ben came with a shout, spilling over Harlan’s abdomen, and continued riding Harlan through his own release while his vision grayed out and his heart felt like it would burst from his rib cage.

The world came back to Harlan one rapid heartbeat at a time, and the roar in his ears cleared. His and Ben’s breaths echoed loudly in his large room. Ben collapsed over him, and after a moment, he started to laugh, a deep and hearty sound that shook the whole bed. He straightened up and gazed down at Harlan, looking as completely blissed-out as Harlan felt.

“And here I thought I’d have to convince you I was worth the risk,” Ben said softly as he disposed of the condom somewhere on the floor. Harlan really didn’t care right then.

Harlan traced Ben’s jaw with the tip of his finger and pulled him down for another kiss—deep and slow and intimate in a way that said this was for life.

Ben lay down beside him, his head on Harlan’s chest, and a memory tickled Harlan’s mind. “You said something about a song?”

“Oh yes!” Ben jumped from the bed, and Harlan immediately regretted mentioning anything. He wanted Ben’s skin back against his. “Be right back.”

Harlan sighed and then winced when he shifted. Ben’s cum was drying into a sticky mess on his stomach. “Grab a cloth while you’re at it,” he called.

Ben returned with flushed cheeks, his guitar in one hand, a wet cloth in the other, and a smile that lit his face. Harlan’s heart felt like it was expanding in his chest.

Ben hopped back on the bed, quickly wiped the spent spunk from Harlan’s skin, and tossed the cloth in the general direction of the en suite. He settled cross-legged with the guitar in his lap, facing Harlan, and stared at him for a long moment. A shy smile touched his lips.

“I wrote this for you,” he whispered and dipped his head.

Ben took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, and began strumming a quiet rhythm on the strings. It was a little bluesy with a slow groove. Ben began to sing with that gritty harmonic baritone, and desire flushed through Harlan’s body anew.

So many times

I questioned the how

And I questioned the why.

I followed the wind

And the name it carried

That I knew but didn’t.

I counted the miles

But not the smiles

Until I fell under yours.

I didn’t know what I was looking for was you.

I didn’t know I’d find my world in you.

I didn’t know what I was looking for was you.

I didn’t know I’d find my world in you.

Harlan’s vision blurred, and his throat felt tight. Emotion welled up from his belly, filled his chest and his heart, and he wondered at how his body could contain it all. Ben’s song, this gift, planted a seedling that he knew would grow into a solid love. He was going to marry this man one day.

Ben started the next verse, but Harlan reached out and stilled his hands on the strings.

“Stay,” he whispered, pouring all the joy and love and desire he felt into his voice.

Ben twined their fingers. “For as long as you’ll have me.”

“For always.”