“You want a hit? Totally legal, you know.” Geoff grinned over at Ford as Angie and Hetty looked more like they were fixin’ to die.

 

“Hell, yes. I only share if you do.” Ford came over and sat on a hay bale.

 

“That’s totally fair.” Stoney refused to act all freaked. He tried to snatch the doobie from Angie’s fingers so he could offer it over, but Geoff got hold of it first.

 

“You’re not going to offer him a shotgun, boss?”

 

He was going to kill Geoff. Especially when Ford lit up like Christmas.

 

“Makes me cough less that way,” Ford pointed out, and butter wouldn’t melt in Ford’s mouth.

 

“Well, I sure as shit won’t let anyone else do it.” Wait. Did he say that out loud?

 

Geoff chortled, handing over the joint, and yeah, he was going to do this. Ford leaned close, eyes closing, lashes dark on his cheeks.

 

Stoney took a deep hit and leaned forward. As he did, he heard Ford pass the bag of candy off to someone.

 

Then their lips met.

 

Shit. Stoney knew he was so fucked. He blew the smoke into Ford’s mouth, a long stream of it, not wanting to let go.

 

Ford slid his hand up Stoney’s arm, holding them together for just another second.

 

His lungs burned, and Stoney had to pull back, blinking to try to right the world once more.

 

“That was… something.” Ford breathed deep.