Hogtying the Bartender

by Charlie Richards

  Jimmy tightened his hold on Vance even as he shook his head and stared at the creature in awe.

  It was so close!

  “Oh, sweetheart,” Vance murmured, a warm smile on his lips. “Take a slow, deep breath for me. Can you do that?”

  When Jimmy nodded, Vance released his hand, and the sensation of being left alone and adrift surged through him. He sucked in a harsh breath and took a step backward as he tried to control his sudden case of nerves. Just as quickly, Jimmy felt Vance’s arm slip around his waist, and he was tugged against the larger man’s side.

  “Are you breathing, Jimmy?”

  After taking a deep breath, Jimmy let it out through pursed lips. “Y-Yeah. Wow.” He cast a wry smile up at Vance, a bit of embarrassment filling him. “Never thought I’d be so nervous when being so close to what was essentially a childhood dream.”

  Vance grinned widely and winked at him. “Yes, they are really big animals, and you do need to be careful around them.” Then he indicated with his cast at the horse before him. “This one here is a very nice one, though. Very sweet, kind, and forgiving.”

  “Really?” With the support of Vance’s arm around his waist, Jimmy relaxed, his tension easing once more. “Can I pet it?”

  “Absolutely.” Vance urged him forward, closing the last few steps and guiding Jimmy toward the animal’s neck. “Hold out your hand and let him sniff at your fingers.”

  Jimmy took a fortifying breath, then lifted his hand. He watched in stunned fascination as the horse turned its huge head and nuzzled its nose against his fingers. When the animal’s lips slid and wiggled over his palm, Jimmy gasped and pulled away.

  Looking up at Vance, Jimmy asked, “What was it doing? Was it going to bite me?”

  “Not on purpose,” Vance assured. “Freckles was looking for treats.” He slid his casted hand along the curve of its back. “Go ahead and pet its neck.”

  Lifting his hand again, Jimmy placed his palm on the animal’s neck. He felt the soft fur and the heat of its body. Sliding his hand down, he relished the sensation of touching him.

  “Wow,” Jimmy couldn’t help but comment. “So soft.” Then he recalled Vance’s comment. “Freckles?” he asked, glancing up at him.

  Vance nodded. “Yes. This is Freckles. He was renamed that when Laramie bought him twelve years ago at an auction. Laramie didn’t like his old name, Firebrand, because it didn’t match his temperament at all, and considering the tiny white specks on his white coat, he decided to call him Freckles.”

  Jimmy nodded, absorbing the information as he continued to pet the animal, which seemed to be dozing, seeing as it stood placidly with its head half-down, its eyes half-closed, and one back leg cocked. “What kind is he?”

  “He’s a seventeen-year-old quarter horse,” Vance told him. “They were originally bred for moving cattle. They have stocky bodies, are normally very maneuverable, and can sprint fast for chasing and cutting cattle.”

  Feeling a little like a bobble-head, Jimmy nodded again. “I’ve read about them.”

  “Yeah?”

  “I used to read everything about horses I could get my hands on when I was young, but that was a long time ago.”

  “Well—”

  The clatter of hooves on cement floors caught their attention, interrupting them. The clomping of hooves stopped a little ways away, and a few seconds later, a big man came into view. Jimmy recognized him from the bar, and he remembered Vance mentioning him a time or two.

  “Hey, guys,” Brand greeted, his dark eyes alight with his obvious happiness. “You ready for your first ride, Jimmy?”

  “Hi. Brand, isn’t it?” Jimmy asked, returning the man’s smile. “And, yeah. Totally.”

  “Yep, that’s me.” Brand looked beyond Vance. “I have Ebony out, and I’ll get her saddled.” He held out a halter. “I’m sure I’ll be done first, so holler if you need anything.”

  Vance released Jimmy and stepped around him, taking the halter from Brand. “Thanks, B,” he said with a nod. “I appreciate it.”

  Brand offered a mock salute, then turned and headed away, disappearing down the aisle.

  “Is he riding with us?” Jimmy asked curiously as he watched Vance juggle the halter one-handed, and the way his lips pinched, betraying his discomfort. “Can I help?”

  Holding out the item, Vance grinned. “That’d be great. Thanks.” Just a hint of pink darkened his pale cheeks. “Guess I over-estimated my ability to do this one-handed. Grab that buckle there, would ya?” he indicated with his cast.

  “Okay.”

  Jimmy took it and waited as Vance adjusted the thick leather straps connected by steel hoops and rings. Finally, he held a strap on the other side with holes in it, and from the way everything fell, Jimmy saw that there was a hoop for the animal’s nose. Jimmy followed Vance’s directions and warily rounded Freckles’ chest, then slipped the nose hole onto the horse’s head. Vance handed him the strap over the horse’s head behind his ears, and Jimmy buckled it into place.

  “Huh. That wasn’t so hard.” Jimmy grinned as he held the halter, feeling an odd sense of pride at his accomplishment.

  Vance chuckled, grinning as he walked over and grabbed a length of rope that Brand had left hanging on the stall’s half-wall. “Clip this on that ring there.” After Jimmy obeyed, he offered, “Hold the rope like this, stay to the left of Freckles’ head, and follow me.”

  “Okay.”

  A tremble of excitement filled him as he watched Vance swing the stall door wide open. Then he was leading a horse for the first time. Jimmy figured he looked like a doofus, but he couldn’t stop his huge grin.

  “This way, and yeah, Brand is joining us,” Vance admitted as he turned to the left, away from where Brand was grooming a horse standing tied in the aisle. “I didn’t want to go back on our plans, but Laramie refuses to let me ride since I just did this yesterday.” Vance twisted his lips into a rueful smile. “The doctor probably wouldn’t have liked it much either.”

  Jimmy snorted. “Yeah. Probably not the best thing. What was the prognosis, anyway?” he asked as he stopped the horse where Vance ordered, then clipped long ties that hung on either side of the aisle to the sides of Freckles’ halter.

  “I managed to hit my finger hard enough to tear a tendon, so he put me in this”—he lifted his hand, indicating his cast—”for a couple of weeks to let it heal.” He growled under his breath. “Damn inconvenient.”

  “Makes working tough, I bet.”

  Vance stepped close. While he held up a brush, he dipped his head a little and whispered, “Not just work.” He pecked a kiss to Jimmy’s temple. “Other things, too.”

  A shiver of a different nature worked through Jimmy as he took in Vance’s heavy-lidded expression. The innuendo in the other man’s tone was unmistakable. Jimmy’s blood heated, and his anticipation for the rest of the evening ramped up.

  Chapter Eleven

  Vance thought the riding lesson had gone very well, especially if the huge grin on Jimmy’s face throughout the process was any indicator.

  After helping Jimmy groom and saddle Freckles, he’d walked beside them into one of their medium-sized arenas. Brand joined them and mounted Ebony, while Jimmy got on Freckles. He walked beside Freckles and gave instructions and tips as they followed behind Brand and Ebony.

  They only rode for around forty-five minutes, but Vance knew that was plenty long enough for someone who was brand new to riding to tire... and maybe even end up a smidge sore. Even one-handed, Vance would happily massage any of Jimmy’s hurting muscles. In fact, his own blood heated just at the thought of it.

  Helping Jimmy slide from the saddle, Vance caught him when his legs buckled. With a soft oomph, Jimmy slumped against his chest. His arm around Jimmy’s waist, he slipped his hand under his jacket and rubbed over his cloth-covered stomach.

  “Although I enjoy holding you just like this,” Vance purred into the other man’s ear. “We
need to put Freckles away, so find your feet, sweetheart.”

  Jimmy peered over his shoulder and grinned at him. “That was a lot of fun, and I really hope we can do it again some time.” Then his eyelids slid to half-mast. “But I could definitely be persuaded to do something else right now.”

  Vance’s blood heated and flowed south, and his prick thickened faster than he could remember in ages. At nearly forty years old, he hadn’t needed to beat off very often. That had certainly changed with meeting Jimmy.

  He liked it very much.

  Wanting to taste Jimmy’s sweet lips, Vance lowered his head. He pressed his mouth to the smaller man’s, immediately sliding his tongue along Jimmy’s lower lip. While Vance had intended to keep it chaste, the second Jimmy opened to him and moaned softly into his mouth, all his good intentions went to hell.

  Vance thrust his tongue into Jimmy’s mouth, sweeping it around the man’s interior. Licking and tasting, he lapped at his tongue and along his teeth. He relished the way Jimmy opened wider and allowed him deep. Vance enjoyed the way Jimmy relaxed in his hold, yet still battled with his tongue, returning his kiss with fervor.

  “Maybe I should take Freckles, so you two can head to your cabin.”

  Upon hearing Brand’s amused comment, Vance felt Jimmy jolt in his hold. The smaller man almost jerked away, but Vance didn’t let him. Instead, he slowly brought the kiss to an end, finally nipping at his bottom lip before separating their heads.

  Vance focused on his buddy, who peered off into the distance. Brand had his thumbs tucked in his belt loops, the reins to his horse held between the fingers of his right hand. Only the slightly pinkish hue of his cheeks gave away his slight discomfort upon seeing Vance’s display.

  Oh well. If all goes well, Brand will have to get used to it.

  On top of that, the way Brand’s smile twitched told Vance that he wasn’t in the least bit upset, and that he was actually happy for him.

  “No, but thanks for the offer, Brand,” Vance countered, even though he was damn tempted. “Caring for the horse after the ride is part of the process, so Jimmy needs to learn it.”

  Brand shrugged exaggeratedly as he grinned at Jimmy. “Sorry, man. I tried.”

  Jimmy laughed. “Good effort,” he teased back as he straightened, pulling away from Vance. “I got this though.”

  Laughing, Brand nodded and started away, leading Ebony—a quarter horse which had gotten her name from her coat’s color, coal black—away with him.

  “Come on, Jimmy,” Vance urged, taking his left hand with his own right one. He began leading Jimmy—and Freckles—to the arena’s exit. “As tempting as it was to take Brand up on his offer, learning to unsaddle and check for issues after the ride is important.”

  Grinning up at him, Jimmy stared at him with a twinkle in his eyes. “That’s fine.” Then he waggled his brows. “Besides, anticipation can be a good thing.”

  Vance’s laugh sounded husky to his own ears, but he couldn’t help it. His blood rushed through his veins, flowing south, and his prick twitched with anticipation. Vance had never had full intercourse with a man, even back before meeting Darlene. He sure hoped to change that very soon.

  Sadly, halfway through removing the saddle and cleaning up Freckles, Vance heard the unmistakable sound of Jimmy’s stomach growling. His own responded in kind, making his own need known.

  Jimmy hummed as he ran the brush over Freckles’ coat. “Um, would it be bad form to ask what’s for dinner?” he asked, nibbling his bottom lip as he glanced hesitantly at Vance. His focus flicked to Vance’s cast, then back to his face. “I know you talked about a couple of different things, but if you didn’t have time or couldn’t, I’d be happy to whip something up.”

  Vance grinned at him even as he shook his head, feeling warmed by the offer in a way other than sexual. “I got it covered. I made the dish last night and put it in the fridge.” Giving in to his urge to touch, Vance slid his hand up Jimmy’s arm as he added, “I had Brand give me a hand, and we made a double batch so he would have a small platter just for himself to take home and bake.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Jimmy put the brush into the nearby box, then moved closer to Vance. “What did you make?”

  “Chicken enchiladas, and they’re amazing,” Brand stated, stopping next to them and unclipping Freckles from the cross-ties. “You both head off. We’re done here.” He leered salaciously at Jimmy, then winked at Vance before leading the horse away and calling, “You all have a fantastic, relaxing evening!”

  Vance couldn’t stop the heat that began to fill his cheeks, so he flipped Brand the bird, then grabbed Jimmy’s hand and began leading him from the barn. To his relief, he heard the man he soon hoped to be his lover snickering beside him. Glancing Jimmy’s way, Vance gave the man what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

  “Pay Brand no mind,” Vance told Jimmy softly. “Sometimes he has delusions that he’s a comedian.”

  Jimmy laughed. “My buddy Oliver has the same issue.”

  Reaching his three-bedroom foreman’s cabin, Vance offered, “At least they like seeing us happy, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  Taking in the soft expression gracing Jimmy’s lean, handsome features, Vance swelled with pleasure that he’d put it there. “Come on, Jimmy. Let’s start supper.”

  Vance led his way into his home. After they’d removed their outerwear and boots, he headed through his home. “After I start the oven to pre-heat, I’ll give you the dime tour. Sound okay?” Then remembering that he’d already left the man alone in his house, Vance grinned over his shoulder at Jimmy. “Unless you gave yourself one last week?”

  Even though Jimmy’s cheeks took on a pinkish hue, he shook his head. “I admit I was damn tempted,” he told him. “But I resisted.”

  “I wouldn’t have minded,” Vance told him, which surprised even him, considering he was known as a private man by those who worked with him. He rarely invited anyone further than the foyer. “So”—Vance pushed a couple of buttons on his electric oven—”this will take about ten minutes to heat.” He straightened. “Come on.”

  Vance showed Jimmy around his place, pointing out the hall bathroom, Mark’s room, his office, and his own bedroom, which had an attached ensuite. “Even before my uncle retired, he moved out of here and allowed me and my family to live in it.” Grimacing, he added ruefully, “I think he did it more because he was tired of Darlene complaining about the small apartment we’d been in before.”

  “I get the impression that Darlene was a tough woman to please,” Jimmy commented softly.

  Sighing, knowing he needed to be honest, Vance told him, “You’re right. And she’s still a hard one to please. I—” He grimaced, doing his best to ignore the bed in the room, since he’d promised Jimmy dinner first... and they really needed to do a little more talking. “I’m very embarrassed to say that I still support her.” Crossing his arms over his chest, Vance leaned against the doorframe. “It’s something I’m trying to rectify, but it will take some time.” He rubbed his palm over his face. “And she’s going to explode in a vindictive way when she realizes I’m not going to give her a free ride anymore.”

  “Oh wow, I—” Jimmy’s brows furrowed. “I’m sorry. Please tell me you’re not doing this, upending your life like this, because of me.”

  Vance could see the worry in Jimmy’s eyes, but he wasn’t going to lie to him just to ease his fears. “Not just because of you.” Gripping Jimmy’s hand, he led him back to the dining room. “This is something that I should have done years ago. I pay for everything in my ex and son’s life, because she doesn’t want to work, and I let her guilt me into it.”

  Releasing Jimmy, Vance headed to the sideboard. “Drink?” He opened the case and grabbed a tumbler and a vodka bottle, turning to show Jimmy the label, proving that it was the one he’d gifted him. “It’s good.”

  Jimmy opened his mouth, then closed it, before nodding. “Yeah. I’ll give it a t
ry.”

  Vance poured a couple of ounces into a pair of tumblers. Leaving the vodka on the sideboard, he carefully used one hand to carry both drinks to the table. After Jimmy had taken one, he took a sip of his own. He rolled the fiery liquid over his tongue, then swallowed it, relishing the trail of heat that flowed down his throat and into his belly.

  He sighed and began heading toward the living room and the sofa, but the beep of the oven, telling him that it was done pre-heating, drew his attention.

  Pointing at the couch, Vance murmured, “Have a seat. I’ll put the enchiladas in and join you.”

  Nodding, Jimmy took Vance’s drink out of his hand, taking both tumblers to the living room.

  Vance grabbed the prepared dish from the fridge, then put it into the oven. After setting the timer, he joined Jimmy in the living room. He took in the way Jimmy sat at one end of the sofa, his slender fingers wrapped around the tumbler as well as the troubled expression on his face. Vance spotted his own drink on the coffee table a couple of feet away.

  When Jimmy looked up at him, he smiled, but his eyes held a wealth of concern.

  Sighing, Vance settled on the sofa in the middle, half-turning his body to face Jimmy by crooking up his left leg. He rested his cast on his bent leg. Vance reached out with his right hand, needing to touch, and rested it on Jimmy’s leg.

  “Does talking about my ex bother you?” Vance needed to know that now, because soon she could be creating havoc with his life. “Because unfortunately, she is the mother of my son, and while I have no desire to talk to her much, she’s still a part of my life.”

  Jimmy nodded slowly, then lifted his drink to his lips and sipped. After wincing just a little, he licked his lips. “A bit harsher than I’m used to,” he admitted softly, holding up his glass with a smile. “But it has a good flavor.

  “And no, I don’t have an issue talking about your ex.” Jimmy scoffed softly, his lips twisting into an embarrassed expression. “Hell, you’ve already met my ex. We’ve talked about him, right?” After Vance had nodded, Jimmy continued, “I just worry. That’s all. I mean”—waving his left hand absently, he furrowed his brows—”any relationship has risks, but one with children... well, that’s even more difficult, isn’t it? What if Mark doesn’t like me? Or hell, never accepts that you want to have a relationship with a guy?” Jimmy nibbled his lower lip as he peered at Vance. “The very idea of you having to choose between me or your son makes my stomach churn.”