by Lynn Lorenz
“Actually, you’re a little older than some of our other applicants, and some of them have more training and experience.”
Brian stood. He had a sinking feeling this was it, no job offer. Whittaker had come up with an excuse not to hire him because of his age.
“Where are you going?” The chief’s eyebrows shot up.
“Just wanted to save you your breath turning me down. But”—he leaned on the desk between them—“I’m telling you I can do the job, sir. Whether I’m gay or not, whether I’m older or less experienced, I can do the job. I promise you.”
“It doesn’t.” Steepling his fingers, Whittaker leaned back in his chair.
“What?”
“I said it doesn’t matter to me. I don’t care what you are or aren’t or how old you are. As for experience, you’d make a fine detective in a few years. What I need is a good man, someone I can trust to get the job done, to handle the citizens with an even hand and temper, and to be committed to this job.”
Brian straightened.
“Sit down, Brian. Let’s talk.”
Brian sat and listened as Whittaker explained the sort of crime and duties Brian would be expected to handle and encounter. Nothing he couldn’t deal with, for sure. Patrolling, writing tickets, answering emergency calls, directing traffic. They hadn’t had a murder in years, but burglary, drag racing and traffic accidents were their biggest problems.
Whittaker told him about the men he’d be working with and assured him that he would back Brian if any issues about being gay came up, to the best of his ability. The men sounded fine, most of them married with kids, long-time residents of Spring Lake, and, in the chief’s opinion, well trained.
At the end of the interview, they stood and Whittaker walked Brian to the door where the receptionist sat.
“Kristin? Please give Mr. Russell the employment package.” She nodded. Whittaker turned to Brian. “It’ll tell you everything you need to get and what we provide and all the forms you’ll need to fill out about health insurance, etc. are in it. Have them completed and back to us next week. We’ll do the background check ASAP. You can do your physical and drug test at that time. Report to work at the beginning of the month.”
Then he turned and held out his hand. “Welcome to Spring Lake PD, Russell.”
Brian’s face split into a wide grin and he took the offered hand. “Thanks, Chief. You’re not going to regret this.”
“I’m sure I won’t. You won’t give me cause, will you?” Those icy blue eyes pinned Brian.
“No, sir.” He pumped the chief’s hand once more and went to the desk where Kristin had pulled together the packet of papers.
“Welcome to the force, Mr. Russell.” She gave him a wink and handed him the package.
“Thanks.” He nodded at her, shoved it under his arm then made his escape before Chief Whittaker changed his mind.
Once in his truck, he let out a whoop of joy. He’d done it. Taken the first step to changing his life, being with the man he loved, and doing what he’d always dreamed. He tossed the package onto the seat, fired up the engine and pulled out of the lot. Taking a quick drive around town, he wanted to see what Spring Lake was all about and see if there was a real estate office. He’d have to get a house here, but he’d deal with that later.
At a gas station-convenience store, he parked and went inside for a soda and to ask for directions to the Double T. With a cold can of cola and directions in hand, he went back to his truck and got in.
Even though their date wasn’t until tomorrow, he couldn’t wait to see Rush and tell him the good news.
Chapter Nineteen
Rush waved and caught Manuel’s eye as he came out of the barn. His foreman strolled over to the porch where Rush sat and climbed the stairs. He slid down the porch column, sat with a grunt then took off his hat. After he wiped his brow with his sleeve, he said, “Got that little colt bedded down in the new stall. He and his mom are sure happy. You’ve got the beginnings of a fine bloodline there, Rush.”
“I know.” He leaned back and placed his boots on the worn top rail.
Manuel stood, holding his hand over his eyes. “Expecting visitors?”
“No.” Rush shook his head.
Down the road came a dark SUV, a dust cloud following it. As soon as he recognized it, Rush felt as if a hand squeezed his heart. “Shit!” The chair fell forward and his feet hit the ground as he stood.
Manuel glanced at him. “Recognize the truck?”
“Yeah,” he muttered. What the hell was Brian doing here? Rush gave Manuel a sidelong look and wished like hell the man was somewhere else.
The vehicle stopped next to Rush’s truck and the dust settled. The door swung open and Brian, a wide smile on his face, got out.
Rush, so mad he could spit, was down the steps and stalking toward him.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Rush bellowed.
Manuel had followed and stood next to him. This was not a conversation he wanted the old man to hear.
With his eyes wide, Brian stopped, then his eyes darted to Manuel. “I should have called. I’m sorry to have surprised you. Bad idea.”
“Obviously.” Rush wanted to shake Brian. What had he been thinking? As it was, he had to control himself from pulling Brian into a tight hold.
They stood an arm’s width from each other. His chest heaved with his effort to stay apart and from the rapid rise and fall of Brian’s chest, it seemed he was having the same problem.
Brian stared at the ground, seemed to gather himself then said, “I…” His words died on his lips. He took one long look into Rush’s eyes and the heat seared Rush to the bone. Despite being furious with him, Rush recognized his hot need to pull the man to him, to kiss him, to cup his ass and grind their cocks together.
Brian shrugged and turned away. At the truck, he stopped, one hand on the open door, and opened his mouth as if to speak, then shut it. He got in, turned the truck around and drove off.
Brian had left him. It was over.
Rush rubbed his heart and staggered. Manuel grabbed his arm and steadied him. Shit. He didn’t need any help. Jerking his arm loose, he strode back to the porch and climbed the steps. At the top, he spun around and dropped to his ass onto the top step.
“Shit.” He ran both hands through his hair. He’d sent Brian away, acted like the asshole he was, been rude and…a jerk. Fuck, he’d screwed the pooch for sure this time.
Manuel eased himself down next to Rush. “That the reason you been to Houston so much this month?”
Rush’s head jerked up as he stared at his foreman. “What? I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.” He gazed down the road. The dust had settled back to the ground and Brian’s truck was long gone, taking Rush’s chance for happiness with it.
“Houston. Where you’ve been going every couple of months for years now.”
“So?”
“So, this month, you’ve been to Houston a couple weeks in a row. So, I figure, something’s changed. And it has. You’re smiling all the time, happy like I’ve never seen you before.” Manuel’s soft-spoken manner soothed Rush’s rattled nerves. The old man was right on all counts.
His weathered hand rested on Rush’s shoulder. “You treated him pretty rough, Rush. He didn’t deserve that.”
“No, he didn’t,” Rush whispered. He lifted his head and he frowned at Manuel.
His foreman laughed. “Son, I’ve known about you for ages. Since you told your daddy. He told me the same day.”
“You knew?”
“That you were gay? Yes.”
“But Dad…”
“Your old man was a good friend, Rush, but a shitty father. I told him so that day he beat you. He almost fired me over it.” Manuel shook his head. “Things changed between us then. I continued to work for him but our friendship had been damaged.”
“You stood up for me?” Rush’s eyes filled with tears. No one had ever stood up for him against his old man, not
even his mother.
“Not that it did any good.” He nudged Rush with his shoulder. “Seems that young man of yours is giving you a clear signal. He’s standing up for you.”
“Seems like it.” Rush stared down the road.
“What are you willing to do for him?” Manuel gave Rush’s shoulder a squeeze and stood. “Not that it means much, but I’ve always been proud of you, Rush.”
Rush reached up and put his hand over Manuel’s. “That means a lot to me.”
“Now, I think you’ve got a phone call and some begging to do.” He chuckled and walked off to the barn, leaving Rush alone.
Rush groaned. Nothing he could say was going to bring Brian back this time. It was hopeless. Manuel would know better if he’d known how many ways he’d screwed up with Brian.
Coward.
If he didn’t at least try, his father had won. Even from the grave, Travis Weston had ruled his life. Now, he was letting his father destroy the one thing in the world he loved more than this stupid piece of ground.
* * * *
Brian wiped his face with his sleeve and headed for the interstate.
What had he expected? Rush had told him he didn’t want him to stay at the ranch, but he had no idea Rush didn’t want him to even show his face. Rush’s shock and embarrassment had stunned Brian.
There had been no tender gaze from him, nothing but anger and fury and outright mortification.
He’d made a terrible mistake.
Tears welled.
“I will not cry,” he gritted out, but his lips quivered, on the verge of betraying him. “Not over that bastard.”
He had to face the truth. From the very beginning, he’d been nothing to Rush but a booty call. A fuck buddy and phone sex and nothing more. Not even good enough to visit at his home.
What a fool he’d been, telling Rush he loved him. The cowboy had probably laughed his ass off over that. Never again. He’d had it.
His phone rang. Unsnapping it from his belt, he glanced at the caller ID.
“You fucking bastard!” he yelled at the phone. The temptation to throw it out of the window was powerful, but it had all his business numbers and notes on it. It’d be easier to just delete Rush’s number than replace all the other stuff.
The ringing stopped. A moment later it rolled to voice mail.
He tossed it on the seat and kept driving.
It rang again.
“Shit. Fuck. You cocksucker!” Brian shook with fury. He jerked the truck off the road and came to a stop.
He snatched up the phone then flipped it open.
“Don’t ever call me again,” he shouted.
“Brian. Please. I made a terrible mistake. I panicked.”
“That was panicking? You practically threw me off your ranch!”
“I know. I was just so shocked to see you.”
“You used me. Again!” Brian roared into the phone.
“No! I swear. It’s not like that.”
Brian got out of the car and began pacing on the side of the road. “What is it like, Rush?”
“You know how I feel about you.”
“Do I? Say it. Tell me like I told you.”
“What?”
“Say it. Tell me how you feel about me. I’ve said it to you.”
Silence hung in the air between them.
“Fuck you, cowboy.”
“I love you.” It was a whisper. A breath on the breeze. Brian almost couldn’t hear it, and for a moment, he thought he’d imagined it.
“What? I want you say it out loud, and if I don’t hear those words right now, I’m hanging up and it’s over.”
“I love you, Brian. Don’t leave me.”
Brian stood still, his breath in hard rasps in his chest, the phone held glued to his ear. He swallowed, licked his lips then exhaled. He should be happy, he should be jumping up and down, or at least have a sappy grin on his face. He didn’t feel happy, or much like jumping. But he did feel like a big sap. Did two out of three count?
“I can’t do this, Rush. I can’t keep getting hurt by you,” Brian whispered.
“I’m so sorry. I know that. Please, come back. Let’s talk about this. Please.”
Brian lowered the phone to his side and looked at the clouds. How many times would he go back? How much crap could he take, just to be with a man who was so buried in the closet, so deep in the dark that he couldn’t see his own hand in front of his face?
“I can’t live in the closet, Rush. I won’t. That’s not how I live my life.”
“I know. We’ll work something out. I swear it. Just don’t leave me. Please come back to the ranch. Please.” Rush’s angst-ridden voice choked out the words, and Brian felt the cowboy’s emotions even through the tenuous cell phone connection.
Brian closed the phone and walked in a tight circle. Every cell in his body wanted Rush, but his pride kept telling him he’d be a fool to be taken in again.
He climbed back into the truck.
* * * *
Rush stood in the yard in front of the house as Brian drove up. He parked, got out, but as he turned around to shut the door, Rush slammed into him and pinned him against the side of the truck.
“God, I’m so sorry, darlin’. I’ve been such a fool.” Rush covered his face in soft kisses, roamed his hands over his chest, along his arms and cupped his ass, pulling him in tight.
Brian brought his hands up between them and he pushed Rush off. “Slow down. I’m here to talk, not for a booty call.” His lips twisted and his jaw worked with the strain of keeping his own hands off Rush.
Rush stepped back, hands up in surrender. “Okay. Right. Let’s talk.” He turned around and led the way to the porch. Brian followed. Rush stepped around a large chair and sat on a swing suspended from the porch ceiling.
“Sit with me.”
Brian sat next to Rush, and Rush put his hand on Brian’s leg. It was warm, heavy, and Brian longed to feel those calloused hands on his bare skin.
Rush laughed, but it was hard and cold. “My father is rolling in his grave right about now.”
“I imagine so.” Brian wasn’t ready to cut Rush any slack. Not yet.
Rush looked up and swallowed. Brian watched his Adam’s apple bob and focused on the spot on Rush’s throat that he longed to lick. Tearing his gaze away, he fought for control and balled his hands into fists on his thighs.
“Manuel, that man who was with me when you showed up?”
“Yeah?”
“He’s my foreman. He worked for my father and stayed on to work for me.”
“Okay.” Brian had no idea where this was going but he wished Rush would hurry up and get there. It shouldn’t feel so good to sit here with Rush.
“He knows.”
“What?” Brian turned to look Rush in the eye.
“He knows about me. About us.”
“Did you tell him?”
“No. He’s always known I’m a faggot.” Rush spit the last word out as if it tasted bad. Personally, Brian hated that word.
“You’re not a faggot, Rush. Don’t ever call yourself that.” He shook his head.
“Okay. He knows I’m gay. Better?”
“Yeah.” Brian gave a small smile.
“My father told him all those years ago. Yet he kept working for me after Dad died.” Rush shook his head as if he couldn’t believe it.
“Well, why not?”
“I thought he was like my dad.” Rush’s head fell back.
“He accepts you?” Brian searched the area for the man, but he was nowhere to be seen.
“Yes. Can you believe it?”
“Yeah, I can. Not everyone your father’s age is homophobic.”
“I guess not.” Rush sighed. “Manuel said that since I’ve been with you, he’s never seen me happier.”
“Really?”
“I’ve never been happier. Ever. That’s God’s own truth.”
“I wish I could say that, Rush.” Brian’s voice got quiet. “B
ut it’s not been a nonstop joyride for me, cowboy.”
“I know. I’m just so bad at this relationship thing. I warned you, remember?”
“Yeah, I remember. But I was so convinced I would be the one.”
“You are the one for me, Brian.”
“I meant the one to coax you out of the closet.”
Rush was silent. They sat next to each other on the swing, moving in a slow back and forth while their boot heels dragged on the wood planks of the porch. The day faded, the sky in the west a smear of crimson and orange.
Brian laid his hand on top of Rush’s and they locked fingers and continued to just swing. A man came out of the barn and up to the porch. Brian recognized him as the foreman, Manuel.
“Boss, I’m heading out. Be back in the morning, regular time.” Manuel nodded to Brian. “Hello.”
“Manuel, this is Brian Russell. My…” Rush stumbled.
Brian squeezed his hand. “Boyfriend sounds so high school. His lover. Pleased to meet you, Manuel.” He gave the man a smile and held out his hand to shake.
The older man took it. “Glad to meet you and so damn glad you came back. I hope you two work this out, but as you can see, Rush’s going to need some help.” Manuel chuckled. “He’s a good man, Brian. You’re going to have to cut him some slack.”
Rush groaned. “He’s done that and more, Manuel. You have no idea how patient he’s been with me.”
Brian shrugged. “I know a good thing when I see it.”
“Well, just to let you know, he can be trained.”
“Get out of here, Manuel.” Rush waved him off. “You don’t have to sell Brian on me.”
“Well, he’s doing a better job than you, cowboy.” Brian laughed, finally feeling at ease again. Rush still hadn’t let go of his hand.
“I guess you two have things to talk about, so I’ll be going. Night, boss.”
“Night, Manuel.”
“Goodnight,” Brian chimed in as the man walked off and got into a battered old truck. “He seems like a good man.”
“Sure is. Best man I know. Except you.” Rush brought their hands to his lips and kissed Brian’s. “I don’t deserve you. I know that. I just thank God you came back.”