by Jodi Payne
Talk about out of place. And as it turned out, the Mercedes was second only to the man who got out of the car. Jeffrey Stokes was shiny himself—tall, dark-haired, embarrassingly well dressed.
And sexy as hell.
Russ whistled softly. “Oh. Damn.”
“Yeah,” he agreed quietly, just for Russ’s ears, pretending it wasn’t weird that they were both ogling the Realtor. He cleared his throat. “Welcome, Mr. Stokes.”
“Please call me Jeffrey,” Stokes said, climbing the stairs onto the front porch and going right to Russ first with a smile. “Well, hello.”
Russ’s return handshake was curt, and he pointed to Oscar. “Oscar over there is the owner. I’m Russ. I just manage the place.”
“Oh. Of course. I see.” Stokes gave Russ a nod. “Hello, Oscar.” The Realtor turned a breathtaking smile on him, giving him goose bumps and making him swallow.
Down, boy, he told himself, more amused than anything. That hadn’t happened to him in a very long time. Stokes’s hand hung between them for a moment and he blinked at it.
“Oh.” He shook with Stokes, forcing himself to smile back and think clearly. “Hi. Welcome.”
“So, this is a great piece of property you have here. Big, huh?”
Oscar raised an eyebrow. “Thank you.” No, I’m not interested in going commercial.
“You’re looking to sell it as a working farm, right? It’s a little off the beaten path, but it’s so beautifully situated, I don’t think you’ll have much trouble.”
Okay. He relaxed; this guy got it. Thank you, Bob. “It’s a working farm now. I’d like to see it go to someone that will keep it that way.”
“Great. I’m completely on board. I already have some thoughts, and I’m sure you do as well, but I want to work logically here and do a proper evaluation. If it’s all right with you, my preference would be not to discuss anything related to pricing or get too deep into any fix-up costs until I’ve seen the whole property and have a chance to sit down with the numbers.” While he was talking, Stokes took his jacket off, folded it in half and draped it over the back of one of Dad’s old porch rockers. Then he added his tie to it and rolled up his sleeves.
Oscar watched Stokes with interest as the man transformed into someone ready to get down to business before his very eyes. He also couldn’t help but admire the way Jeffrey’s dress shirt stretched across that broad chest. “Oh. Sure, that’d be great. Thanks.” He only had a vague idea of the property’s value anyway. He was sure it would bring in a good amount, though—hopefully enough to be of real help with college for his girls.
He saw Russ cross his arms over his chest, but the man didn’t join the conversation.
“And don’t worry, I understand farms need work all the time. It’s never ending. Please don’t spend time apologizing for something you think needs work. I’ll just make a note, and we’ll discuss the priorities later. Okay? From where I’m standing the bones look pretty good. That’s what matters most.”
He took a deep breath and exhaled, giving Stokes a smile. The guy really did get it. “Russ is ready to take us around. Where do you want to start?”
Chapter Four
RUSS SAT on the front porch in his favorite old rocker with a cup of coffee, took a deep breath, and let it out slow.
“Damn.”
That Realtor? Once he’d let his hair down, he seemed pretty sharp, and he’d had no problem keeping up. He asked a hell of a lot of questions, though. Seemed like every time Russ answered one, he had two more. Was the perimeter fencing no-climb? What was the spring thaw like? How did water flow through the property? Was the horse barn dry? Was the hay barn protected from critters? Were the tractors part of the sale? What about the horse trailer? On and on. He seemed to know farm structures, took notes, used all the right terms and what all. Russ was pretty sure Bob Keller did right by Oscar in suggesting the guy. Oscar was going to owe Keller a debt.
Russ sighed. Sure was awkward, though.
He and Jeff needed no introduction. They’d met a couple of months back at this bar called the River. They’d never exchanged anything but first names. No phone numbers, last names, or really any relevant personal information. But after running into each other a couple of times and having a couple of drinks together, Jeff had become fairly familiar with him physically—and with the back of his truck. He’d wanted to see Jeff again, maybe even wanted more, but that didn’t seem like a good idea in light of—it was just sex up until now, just getting off and nothing more. Russ wasn’t sure if that made the situation better or worse.
“Damn.”
He was going to have to learn how to stay out of the way.
The longer they toured the grounds, the more Russ could see how much Oscar loved Stable Hill. The man had a story for everything. One about the year right after they started building the indoor ring, when all the construction made the hay barn flood during a nor’easter. A story about hacking out in the woods behind the property as a teenager and riding through some kind of wasps’ nest that sent him and his horse into a tizzy. The night a skunk got into the barn, and the day the dogs dug up a mess of baby bunnies. Oscar had stories about the house too, about how the sideboard in the dining room was custom-made, with a drawer big enough to hold the huge platter his mother used for Thanksgiving dinner, and about being the first one out of bed on winter mornings and stoking the woodstove wearing nothing but boxers and goose bumps.
Considering Oscar seemed broken up about having to sell the place, and that Russ was happy living and working here himself and would rather not see it change hands either… it was a decent day. At least it seemed like Jeff wanted to do right by the place, and by Oscar.
But man, Oscar and Jeff together were a whole lot of company.
A whole lot of very confusing company.
The two of them had finally left, and Russ sat quiet, drinking his coffee and letting all the whirling energy settle. He just needed to breathe and soak up the late-afternoon sun while all the noise and mixed emotions floated down and drifted away.
He’d been hoping Oscar would stay a little bit and check in with him, even if it was only to talk farm business—placing orders or writing checks, whatever. He’d thought about asking if Oscar wanted to stay for supper, but of course the guy probably couldn’t with all those girls to get home to and all. Oscar was a good dad, from what he knew, and kind. The man was every bit as handsome as the day they’d met too. Right or wrong, he wouldn’t kick the man out of bed for eating crackers.
He’d had a thing for Oscar since the first time they shook hands. He remembered that moment so clearly even two-plus years later. Tall, bright blue eyes, thick salt-and-pepper hair reflecting the sunlight. Oscar had given him a friendly smile to welcome him to the family that had made him warm all over. But it wasn’t even a full day later that Jonas—Oscar’s father had insisted Russ call him by his first name—told him all about how Oscar lost a husband to cancer barely six months earlier. He’d cursed his luck all night long that the man he’d just met, a man with a smile so warm it made his chest ache, was available, but not. Into men but grieving and completely out-of-bounds. Though, truthfully, at that point Russ wouldn’t have dared proposition the boss’s son, anyway.
But it had been what, nearly three years since Oscar lost Emmett? And they’d lost Jonas months ago, you know? Damn near six months. He was starting to think maybe it might be okay to think about Oscar again, especially since he wasn’t gonna have to worry about losing his job if it didn’t go over well. If the new owner didn’t keep him on, he wasn’t gonna have it for long anyhow.
“Damn,” he said again and stood up. That was enough daydreaming. He had shit to do. He needed to help get the horses turned out and fed. He had the farrier coming because Manny slipped a shoe. And after the little tour today, Oscar had asked him to personally do an inspection of the fences. All the fences. Every goddamn inch of fence. That was going to be a chore.
He walked through the house, se
t his empty coffee cup in the sink and filled a water bottle, then headed out the back door toward the stables. He didn’t get three steps from the house before his cell rang, though.
Other than farm-related folks, only two people in the whole world had that number—Mama and Oscar—and Mama only called on holidays.
This time it was Oscar.
“Long time no see, stranger.”
“Right? Ugh.” Oscar sighed into the phone. “I am so sorry to interrupt your day again, Russ. I know you have better things to do than listen to me talk.”
“Not really. You’re the boss, Boss.” Oscar hated when he said that, and he did it now just to needle him.
“Ha-ha.”
“So, what can I do you for?”
“Okay. So, I would have stayed and had this conversation in person, but I had to pick up Sophie at—”
“No worries. Really. Family first.” Christ. Please don’t fire me over the phone.
There was a pause, and then Oscar said, “Thanks. So, I’m really hoping that whoever ends up buying Dad’s place keeps you on.”
Okay… not fired. Yet. “Me too.”
“Great. And I want to try to make that happen. So, can you make me a list of the people we still have on staff, including part-time and any regular day hires, and give me an idea of what they each do? I’d like to present you all as a team, you know? Essential staff. Keep everyone working.”
“Can do.” How fast was this happening? He was under the impression they had some time. For sure there was the fences, there was a buttload of inventory to go through for Jeff, and then there was that half-built barn that was gonna need something. And what about the—
“You there? Did I drop?”
Oops. “Uh. No. I got you.” He blinked a couple of times.
“Oh. Good. So, Monday night, then?”
“You need it by Monday?”
“If you can manage it.”
“Sure.” He needed this job more than he needed sleep. And he needed to make sure he was irreplaceable, right? Nobody better to run this operation than him. “Hey, why don’t you bring some beer and I’ll make us supper?” Shit. Christ. That damn invitation skipped past his brain and came right out his stupid mouth.
“Uh. You think we need that much time?”
Well, fuck. That was about the most straight-up rejection ever, huh? “Oh, well. I suppose not. You probably want to get home to your family.”
“No. You know what? We haven’t had dinner together since before Dad passed. Let’s do it.”
“Yeah?” Well, hell. Now what was he going to make for Oscar? “Grill?”
“How about I bring beer and steaks and you do the rest.”
He smiled because it all sounded great. The grill, some fresh air, and Oscar was a beer snob and would bring the good stuff. If he couldn’t get everything he wanted, he could handle just hanging out and grilling on a decent night. It was still early fall, so it wouldn’t be cold yet. “You’re on.”
“Sounds great. I’ll see you Monday, then.” Oscar hung up the phone.
It was all good. Oscar was a fair boss, a good guy, and had always put a lot of trust in him—gave him a lot of elbow room, didn’t sit over his shoulder on anything. Good thing for Oscar he was worthy of all that trust, or he damn sure tried to be. Probably best not to mess that up with everything else going on.
He didn’t need romance right now anyway, right? A steady would just complicate things. He found sex, which he wasn’t ashamed to need, pretty much every time he went looking for it. He was good. For now it was him and a stable of horses, and that was enough.
When he was growing up in South Carolina, as a teenager he’d actually fallen in love with a horse. It sounded weird to put it that way, but it was basically the truth. She was a paint, pretty as could be, with a white muzzle and a dark spot over one eye. He called her Matey because she reminded him of a pirate, though she had some longer, fancier name his dad had given her. She was smart and mischievous, had a stubborn streak, was a sucker for a peppermint, and rode like a dream. She was his confidante, and he told her everything. He told her how early one morning he’d caught his uncle in the hay barn making love to another man, and everything he’d been feeling, everything he thought was wrong with him suddenly made sense. He told her about every hurried hand job or blow job behind a dumpster that he gave or got. He told her about the blond-haired boy he kissed all over in the bed of his truck, the one whose daddy beat the devil out of him one night less than a week later, and who he never saw again.
Matey had been his best friend. She listened, she didn’t judge, she played with him, took care of him, ran like the wind. He hadn’t ever had a friend like that before or since, but he’d survived. And now he had a whole stable full of beasts to talk to. They weren’t quite the same as a lover, but they’d do.
He made his way down the aisle, opening stalls, careful to leave Manny in hers. This crew knew the drill. They followed him in a line or in pairs, until he got to the final stall, which belonged to a gigantic mare he called Angel. She’d been a gift from Jonas, and she’d come to him named Angelica, but he felt like that was too stuffy. In his time at Stable Hill, he’d added four horses to the stables and turned two older ones out to pasture. Angel was one of his picks. He’d had a mind to get a mare for Sophie. He’d even seen a slightly smaller roan with a good temperament he thought would suit, if Oscar agreed. The few times they’d been up, Sophie was the only one who had no fear of the animals. He saw something in her, something still and quiet that reminded him a little of the boy he’d once been, something that would serve her well if she ever wanted to ride. But there was no point in asking Oscar now, was there? That was a shame.
Once the lead mare was out of her stall, he got himself out of the way, and they took off in a pack for the turnout pasture, two and three across through the open barn doors.
He followed them up more slowly and far enough back that he didn’t have to breathe in the dust they’d kicked up. He could have taken the four-wheeler, but he felt like he needed the walk. Soon it would be time to switch their days and night again. Kids had been back at school for a while, and the days weren’t so hot anymore. When he finally got up to the pasture, everyone had made their way through the gate, and all he had to do was close it behind them. Angel came over and knocked his chest with her nose.
“No more peppermints today, pretty girl. You help me get everyone back down to the barn in the morning and we’ll talk.” He rubbed her nose and scratched behind her ears until she got bored of him and shook him off. “Be good, now.”
From out here, if he turned in a circle he could see most of the property. Much of Oscar’s farm it was surrounded by undeveloped forest, especially back behind the turnout pastures. There were three big barns—or, two and a half, anyway. The stables and the hay and equipment barn, they used regularly. The third one was only partly finished. Jonas had had plans for an indoor ring, but the old man got sick and the extra cash had to go to his care. The barn had been sitting unfinished ever since.
His cell rang again. It was the farrier. “Hey, Hank.”
“Hey, Russ. I’m ahead of schedule. I’m only about fifteen minutes out. That okay?”
“Sure thing. Manny’s ready for you.”
“See you in a few.”
“Sounds good.”
He hung up and headed back down to the stables to get Manny on crossties for Hank.
Chapter Five
“I’M PULLING up now.”
Jeffrey turned off the access road, eased the nose of his car through the gates of Stable Hill, and headed up the long driveway.
“Are you sure it’s okay that I can’t be there?” Oscar sounded uncertain on the other end of the phone.
It was fine by him. Russ would be.
“Of course. I’m just getting some sample pictures for the listing. From what I saw last time I was there, it’s full of great antique furniture and accents already. If I think it needs some extra sta
ging, I’ll let you know, and we’ll get some stuff brought in. Okay?” He’d bring in a professional photographer once he saw how these came out. For the price tag he was considering, it was worth doing right.
“Yeah, that sounds good.”
He took another turn, this one in a direction that took him away from the main house. Such an odd entrance to the property. “Oscar, why does this driveway meander all over the place on the way up to the house?”
“Dad said if the driveway went straight up from the road, it would be too steep a drive for the horse trailer.”
Oh. “Well, that makes sense. Makes me a little dizzy, though.”
Oscar’s laugh filled his car over the Bluetooth system. “Yeah, I know. So, Russ knows you’re coming. He’ll give you access to the house and whatever else you need.”
Mmm. Yeah, he was looking forward to the “whatever else he needed” part. Hopefully Russ would be game. “Thanks, Oscar. I’ll give you a call later and let you know how it went.”
“Great. Talk soon, then.”
“Later.” Jeffrey hung up, taking the last turn back toward the house. He parked in front and got out, grabbing the bag with his camera in it off his front seat. He took the porch steps slowly, checking his email on his phone as he went.
“Mr. Stokes.”
Jeffrey looked up from his phone, grinning at the voice that greeted him. Russ wasn’t grinning back. “Ah. Is that how it has to be?”
Russ nodded at him soberly, and Jesus, that look was hot. So serious. He wanted to kiss the frown off that stubborn mouth. “That’s how it is. Least while we’re working together.”
“Oh. Well.” Shit. “All right, then, Mr. White.”
“How did you find out my—”
“I asked Oscar.”
Russ shook his head and sighed. “Where did you want to start?”
“Well, that would probably be easier to figure out from inside the house.” He winked.
“Oh. Right.” Russ pushed open the screen door for him. “Sorry.”