The Cowboy's Secret

by Riley Knight

  “I don’t really know what it is, man,” Logan said slowly, but Malcolm got the definite sense that it was good for him to get the words out. Like maybe he had been holding them back for longer than he really should have, given the relief in his voice. “I’m not gay. I’ve been with women. You know that.”

  Malcolm nodded because he did know that. With Logan’s rugged good looks, there had always been women interested right back, although now that Malcolm thought about it, Logan had always been a bit standoffish with them. Never really in a relationship with a woman, always sort of more amused than anything else by their adoration. More than one woman had called Logan an asshole.

  “But I don’t think you’ve asked out too many women recently,” Malcolm noted, and he could feel Logan’s gaze boring into the back of his head so that he wasn’t sure that he quite dared to turn around. “And you never really have. You let them come to you.”

  But Logan hadn’t been shy about asking Kyle out. So that clearly meant something.

  “Yeah.” Logan was quiet for so long that Malcolm sort of thought that his best friend might just storm away in a huff, but eventually, he said the one word. And then it seemed easier for him to continue. “I guess I’m more interested in men than women, at least, you know, to go out with. Do you think that’s weird?”

  It was Malcolm’s turn to go quiet and then give a little shrug. The truth was, he had been so busy thinking about his own confusing feelings, he hadn’t given much thought to the fact that he could have been seeking out other people who might feel the same. It had never occurred to him to wonder if Logan was into guys.

  “Nah,” he finally said, although it wasn’t strictly speaking true. But what was true was that he found it far easier to accept that in Logan than he could with himself, although he was, if anything, less interested in women, if he were completely honest with himself, than Logan seemed to be. “It’s not weird, man.”

  “So you don’t mind”—there was this curious sort of care, a slight emphasis, to the way that Logan spoke each word—“if I go out with Kyle? Because I sort of thought that you would be bothered by it, maybe.”

  Instantly Malcolm’s back stiffened up as much as if his spine had been replaced with a steel bar, inflexible and unbending. He stepped out of his horse’s stall with one last affectionate pat to her neck, then walked away from Logan, really not brave enough to make himself look at the look on his face.

  “Why would I give a shit? You’re my best friend, either way, man,” Malcolm told him, and it was, just as he had hoped, easier to deal with this when he was looking away from Logan.

  “I mean, it just sort of seemed like, if you wanted Kyle dating any guy, it would be you.” Logan actually said the words, making it impossible for Malcolm to pretend anymore that he didn’t understand where Logan was going with that. That had been his tactic before, and he hadn’t been looking to change that.

  “Kyle is a pain in the ass.” Malcolm’s words sounded cold and strange to his own ears, his voice harsh and not like his own. Like he was channeling a stranger, driven by panic. “I don’t want anything to do with him. I just want him to go home, to get the fuck out of my life.”

  He headed for the door then, knowing that he was being immature, that he was running away, but unable to help it. He suddenly felt like he had to get out of there, had to run from the fact that he had just lied to his best friend, to the person who had been there for him the most consistently of anyone else in his life. He had never so blatantly lied to him before, although he had been hiding things and, he supposed, lying through omission, but this was a bit more obvious than that.

  “Mal,” his best friend said and gripped him by the wrist, making him turn around to look at him. Reluctantly, Malcolm let himself be turned, met the wise, observant eyes of the man who probably knew him better than anyone. He had been outright avoiding this, but he had no choice but to look at him now.

  “What?” Malcolm replied, his shoulders back defiantly, trying to keep the steel in his spine because otherwise, he thought he might just droop right over. Might take back his words and tell Logan not to go out with Kyle. And that was the last thing he wanted because it would undoubtedly bring up some questions in the other man.

  “Are you sure? You know that you can tell me anything, right?” Logan spoke with no trace of humor, no mockery, on his handsome face, and for a moment, Malcolm considered telling him everything. It would be such a relief to have it off of his chest, but the situation was just too complicated, anyway. He wasn’t allowed to want Kyle, and for reasons that had nothing to do with the fact that Kyle was a man. Or not much, anyway.

  “There’s nothing to tell you.” Malcolm kept his voice quiet, hoping that he would be able to keep his voice under control more easily that way. “You go ahead and do whatever you want. Though, you know, maybe keep in mind that the guy is trying to take your job away before you get too friendly.”

  Too friendly. A sudden flash in front of his eyes showed him just what too friendly might mean. He knew the face that Kyle made when he was close to release now. He knew the way that he panted and moaned into their kiss, the way he clung to Malcolm as he came. If Kyle had done it with Malcolm, who was to say that he wouldn’t do it with Logan, too?

  “Okay.” Logan stood back and watched him, but it was very obvious from his face that it wasn’t okay, that nothing was okay, that something between them had been damaged and Malcolm had the feeling that he knew how. Logan wasn’t stupid, and he noticed things, and it seemed like it was impossible for Malcolm to hide his reaction to Kyle, no matter how hard he tried to stay away from him.

  He pulled away from his best friend suddenly and turned abruptly on his heel, away from those accusing sapphire eyes. He stormed out of the barn, unaccountably angry. Angry with Kyle, who had apparently tricked someone else into his snare. Damn it. Everyone had already been on Kyle’s side before. The uptight lawyer seemed to have charmed the hell out of everyone else in the house. Malcolm had seen Mary Anne, even, staring at the darkly-handsome man with a look of intense concentration which made it pretty clear that she, too, thought Kyle was pretty amazingly hot.

  And what bugged Malcolm more than anything else was the thought that he thought so, too. That even now, he couldn’t help but think about Kyle. And he couldn’t even do anything about it, either. Now that his best friend had said that he was interested in Kyle, he couldn’t exactly go trying to get the man into bed.

  Which was probably a good thing, he thought.

  His eyes were focused on the house to the exclusion of all else. The only thing on his mind was getting there, getting to the privacy of his room, or maybe into the shower. That would be even better because then he could lock the door and if someone, anyone, knocked, he could just pretend that he hadn’t heard a thing and avoid all of this, at least for the time that he was in the shower.

  So he didn’t see Kyle, at least not at first. Not until the other man stood right in front of him, a hand on Malcolm’s shoulder, standing between him and his goal. Not that he couldn’t have easily pushed Kyle out of the way, because he certainly could have. It wouldn’t have even been that hard. Except that even touching Kyle was a bad idea right now.

  “You son of a bitch,” Kyle whispered, his pale cheeks flushed, his dark eyes sparking with irritation. No, not irritation. Anger. Pure and simple and intense, and it didn’t take a brain surgeon level of intelligence to figure out what that meant.

  Kyle had heard. How much, Malcolm didn’t know, but clearly enough to be upset. Kyle glared up at him, his jaw clenched, his eyes burning so hot that Malcolm felt like they might utterly scorch him, but then Kyle was whirling away, stalking off toward the house, bristling like a porcupine.

  For a moment, Malcolm froze in place, and then he swore softly and followed Kyle. The best thing to do was obviously for him just to let the guy go. If he had hurt feelings or whatever, that was actually better for him, right? Maybe Kyle would go away before things got any mo
re complicated. That would be better, not only for himself but because of the whole Logan situation, too.

  But he found that he couldn’t quite do it. It might have been the smarter course of action, but his heart didn’t care about that. Something inside of him had snarled that Kyle was his from the moment that Logan had informed Malcolm that he had asked Kyle out. And it was that deeply primal, possessive part, the part that felt that, yes, he did have a claim on Kyle no matter what anyone else said, which had him following the gorgeous, impossibly sexy, completely frustrating man toward the house.

  What he was going to do when he found him, he wasn’t sure. Or so he told himself, anyway. Part of him, even then, had his suspicions. And despite everything, it was getting harder and harder for him to care as much as he should about Kyle being the absolute last person that he should be sleeping with.

  ELEVEN

  The more Kyle thought about it, the more he felt like it just wasn’t a good idea for him to go out with Logan. The more he thought about the look in Logan’s eyes, the more it seemed like it meant something to Logan that it didn’t, couldn’t, mean to Kyle.

  He knew that people thought that he was heartless, that his blood ran through his veins like ice water, like he was cruel and focused and obsessive. Well, parts of that were true, but he wasn’t enough of a jerk to want to lead someone on. That wasn’t something that he was interested in at all.

  The fact was, he wasn’t sure that he could openly date any man, but if he did, it wouldn’t be Logan. The man was friendly, yes, and charming, and open, his heart written all over his face if you could see past the rugged good looks and wicked sense of humor, and in a lot of ways, Kyle wished that he could find himself as drawn to Logan as he was to Malcolm.

  But that just wasn’t the case. So that had him setting out after Logan, determined to get out of the not-date. He wasn’t going to lie to Logan, give him any sort of hope that anything could come of this. Logan deserved more than that.

  It took a while, but not too long. At this time of day, he knew, Logan was usually stabling his horse before dinner, and he heard voices coming from the barn. It wasn’t hard for him to shrewdly deduce Logan’s location, and he walked toward the barn, shoulders tense but determined just to get this over with.

  At first, the voices were vague. It was Malcolm and Logan speaking, that much was clear, but it wasn’t until he was right outside the door, which had been left open just a crack, that he was actually able to pick out individual words.

  “Kyle is a pain in the ass.” It was Malcolm speaking. No doubt at all of that, even if Kyle might want there to be. “I don’t want anything to do with him. I just want him to go home, to get the fuck out of my life.”

  Well.

  That was clear enough, wasn’t it?

  Kyle had deliberately stayed away from Malcolm since they’d had that one, ill-advised mutual orgasm together. He hadn’t been quite willing to think about what he was going to do about that whole situation. It seemed like Malcolm, at least, had figured it out. He had definitely come to some opinions of his own.

  And why not? Why shouldn’t Malcolm hate him? Nothing had changed, they had both been very clear about that. Only he couldn’t help but think about Malcolm, eyes glowing and cheeks flushed and lips clamped onto Kyle’s as he came.

  It meant nothing to Malcolm. And, as much as he might hate to admit it, it meant everything to Kyle.

  The anger that rushed through him was really more directed at himself than at Malcolm, but when he stood back, not wanting to hear the rest of that conversation, it was so much easier to direct it outward. Moments later, Malcolm came out of the barn, a disgruntled look on his face as he stalked right by Kyle without even seeming to see him.

  For a moment, Kyle thought about letting him go. To be honest, he even thought about sneaking into the house through the back door and collecting up all of his things. Telling his boss that he just couldn’t do this, that no one on the planet could change Malcolm’s mind. He could just toss the dice and let everything fall where it would.

  The thought was foreign to him but strangely seductive for all that. Being here, even for as short of a time as he had been, it had changed him. Had given him access to a world where people cared about different things than he was used to.

  But he just didn’t have it in him. He hadn’t gotten through law school by giving up. He had put his head down and rampaged through like the proverbial bull in the china shop. He wasn’t going to stop now, no matter how awkward things had gotten.

  Needing to confront him, he stormed after him until he could get in front of Malcolm and then put a hand on his shoulder to stop him and force him to acknowledge him. With strength that he hadn’t known that he had, panting from how fast he’d had to rush to match Malcolm’s long strides, he forced Malcolm to halt and then darted around in front of him to glare up into his face.

  Infuriated at what he had overheard he said, “You son of a bitch.”

  Looking at Malcolm he watched as Malcolm seemed to realize that he had obviously heard what he had said to Logan. He could tell that Malcolm was thinking about just pushing through him and not wanting to deal with him anymore, Kyle spun around and stomped to the house.

  Stalking into the front room, he stopped right in his tracks when he saw Mary Anne, tears streaking down her face which she didn’t even bother to wipe away. And Anna was there, too, her arm around her daughter, not crying but it seemed like it was a close thing. More of an act of defiance than anything else that her eyes were dry.

  Just when Kyle was about to ask the obvious question, he heard the siren, and at the same time, he saw the crumpled form on the couch.

  It was Malcolm’s father, and his body was shrunken and still as he lay sprawled out over the cushions. All at once, everything else went out of Kyle’s head, and he stared down, utterly aghast, at the man who had been so nice to him even though he had absolutely no reason to do so other than basic decency.

  It was one thing, Kyle discovered then, to be told that the man was dying. One thing to know something logically. But it was a completely different thing to see it with his own eyes, to stare down into a still, ashen face, and wonder if it was already too late.

  * * *

  There was a sudden bustle of activity after Kyle came in, and a few seconds later, Malcolm came in, saw his father and rushed over to him, falling to his knees by the couch. Kyle could see the love on his face for his father. After that came Logan, bursting into the room with obvious panic on his face, spurred on by the sound of the sirens.

  Kyle hung back as the EMTs hefted Malcolm’s father up off of the couch and onto a stretcher. The best thing he could do, the only thing, really, was to stay back out of the way. This was a family thing, and it was a family that he wasn’t a part of, no matter how nice they had been to him.

  The older man was gone soon enough, siren wailing, and that was a good sign, right? They wouldn’t bother to put the siren on if there was no chance of him recovering. For a moment or two, Kyle had wondered if the other man was already dead, but he didn’t think so anymore.

  Everyone was piling into various cars, and Kyle would have stayed where he was except that Logan came and hovered over him, murmuring in his ear in a way that made Kyle even more sure that he needed to have an unpleasant talk with the handsome cowboy. It was far too intimate, the way that Logan lowered his head and whispered directly to him.

  “There are too many people to fit in the pickup trucks. Can you bring some of us over?”

  There was no chance of him saying no, and that was how Kyle found himself in the waiting room of the hospital, waiting along with the sick man’s family for the news. Silently, he made himself useful, handing out cups of hot coffee to anyone who wanted them. Mostly no one drank any of the liquid, but they did wrap their hands around the hot cups as though soothed by the warmth, so he didn’t feel like it was completely a wasted gesture.

  He felt eyes on him, and when he looked up, it was dir
ectly into Logan’s gaze. As though Kyle had invited him over, Logan came and stood by him, too close for comfort. This was not the best time for this, maybe, but it was the time that they had, and it wasn’t going to help anyone for him to hold back.

  “When you invited me out,” Kyle murmured, keeping his voice quiet enough that only Logan would be able to hear him, “did you mean it like you were asking me out? On a date?” He felt so ridiculous suddenly, like a high school kid or even younger, and he had an absurd moment of amusement where he thought about sending someone to go talk to Logan on his behalf. To ask the guy if he liked him as a friend or if he liked liked him.

  “If I did,” Logan asked, and his voice was a little more guarded than usual, “would that be a problem?”

  Kyle sighed softly. That was enough of an answer—more of one than he had really wanted. He had been holding out hope that Logan would just laugh it off, maybe even make fun of him for thinking that. Even teasing him, calling him gay, would have made this whole thing easier.

  “Yeah. A little,” Kyle admitted, because there seemed to be no way around it. “I’m sorry. I’m not here long enough to date anyone. I thought you were doing something different when I accepted.”

  “Okay.”

  That was it—just the one word, spoken very quietly. Kyle looked up into Logan’s eyes and found them a bit guarded, and he would have done anything not to lose this friend that he had made, because how remarkable was it that he, of all people, could actually make a friend at all? Hopefully, he wasn’t being cruel, but wouldn’t it be worse to keep leading him on, making him think something could happen that never could?

  “I’m sorry,” he admitted, and he turned away, walking away from the group and down through the hallway. Any second, a doctor or nurse was going to challenge him, to tell him that he needed to get out of here, that he wasn’t allowed to be here, but he wasn’t really thinking about that. Or he would deal with it when it happened.