by Lynn Stark
Peyton was startled by the thought. Remembering a brief incident that had taken place years ago had obviously made an impact. It was likely the first moment he realized he was gay, although that wasn’t what had come into his mind. He’d been at the age where his friends were noticing girls. He hadn’t thought they were that great but hadn’t given much thought to boys, either. What it had been was the time of his sexual awareness, when he was realizing what he liked and what he didn’t like. By the time he was in his mid-teens, he definitely knew he was gay. There was no question about it. Sharing with his parents hadn’t been a terrifying experience. They had raised him with so much love that he had been certain that they would still love him after he shared his sexuality with them. They had.
Their love had never wavered, and it was probably the one thing Peyton would miss most about them.
“Hey, where did you go?”
Blinking, Peyton forced himself back to the present. “Sorry, I was thinking about my parents. How are your brothers and parents?” he asked, moving the subject away from him.
They might have to live near each other, and they might even become friends over time, but Peyton didn’t have plans to spill his guts to a virtual stranger during their first five minutes together.
“They’re good. My parents want you to come over for supper some night, once you’ve settled in.”
Peyton nodded. “I’ll do that.” One of the things he liked about his new home, people tended to be friendly and welcoming. At least that was how he remembered it from his childhood. Brag’s parents seemed to have remained the same over the years. Brag, however, was proving to be complex. He was friendly, yet there was a part of him Peyton felt was being held back. Then there was the teasing. It was something Brag and his brothers had been good at during Peyton’s two-week summer visits with his parents. “Well, I better call and see how far out the trucks are. They shouldn’t be too long.”
“Trucks? You brought that much stuff with you?”
“There are four trucks. Two have furniture and personal things, like clothing. The third is pulling a trailer with my horses in it, and the fourth is hauling my vehicles.”
Brag’s eyebrows shot up. “You have horses?”
“Yes, I have horses. Four of them. By the way, thanks for teaching me how to ride.”
“No problem. During all the times we spoke, your father never told me that.”
Peyton resisted the urge to shrug. He couldn’t figure out how it could be of any interest to Brag. Renting a property from a person didn’t exactly give someone the right to know all of the landlord’s business, particularly about his adult son.
Unzipping a pocket on his leather jacket, Peyton took out his phone and chose the number for the driver of one of the moving trucks. He pressed it and waited. Brag picked up his coffee and headed toward the back door. “I’ll bring the mug back in a bit. And if you need help with unloading anything, let me know. My phone number is on the calendar. I’ll go see that there are four stalls ready for your horses.”
“Thanks. I appreciate it.”
As Peyton listened to his phone ring, he watched Brag walk toward the back door. The man certainly knew how to fill out a pair of jeans. The muscles straining the soft fabric of the T-shirt weren’t bad, either.
He had no clue if Brag was gay or straight. But it didn’t matter. Peyton was looking for peace and quiet, not romance.
Chapter Two
Brag walked toward the long barn where the horses were kept. Peyton’s father had it built five years before, replacing the older barn that served no real purpose any longer. At one time, the family had owned a small herd of dairy cows. The new barn was large enough to house twelve horses. Brag’s horses took up two of those stalls.
He set about preparing the stalls and wasn’t surprised when Peyton walked into the barn. He had removed the body-hugging blue and black leather jacket, leaving him only in an equally body-hugging spandex shirt and leather pants. The man certainly was physically fit. He probably works out in one of those fancy gyms, Brag thought, trying not to be obvious about admiring Peyton’s lower half in the fitted leather pants and the high boots that came nearly to his knees. It was certainly gear that would protect him from road rash, if his bike went down. Brag had almost drooled over the beautiful Italian motorcycle when he had seen it. He’d heard it first from his house. The powerful motor had called to him like a lover. It was almost like a piece of art, unlike Brag’s own bike which was big, bold, and screamed American machismo.
“I have mats to put down in the stalls,” Peyton told Brag as he walked into the first stall and examined it carefully. He looked over every inch, his hand running over the walls, searching for protrusions, anything that could injure a horse. “When they get here, I’m going to be busy pampering them.” He smiled, as if the thought of reuniting with his horses gave him great pleasure. “They’re not used to traveling so far by trailer.”
“How do they usually travel?” Brag asked curiously.
“By plane. Two of them, anyway. They traveled a lot before they retired. The other two are my parent’s horses.”
“What did they retire from?”
“Show jumping and dressage.”
“Did you show them?”
Peyton nodded. “I did. I’m retired now, too. We’re just going to grow fat and old together.” He looked around. “I wonder how long my father had this planned out.” Shaking his head, he turned around, giving Brag an excellent view of the man’s tight ass encased in leather. It was an incredible sight, and he wouldn’t have minded admiring it for a while. “I haven’t been happy living on the east coast in a very long time. Once my father was gone, there was nothing to keep me there. I wish we could have moved here together.”
The wistfulness in Peyton’s voice made something in Brag ache for him. His own parents were alive and well, as were his brothers. Peyton didn’t have that. At least Corbin Greer, Peyton’s father, had never mentioned any other family members. Peyton was an only child, and Corbin’s aunt, Nella, had died years ago. Even before their aunt had done so.
Peyton began walking along the end aisles where Brag’s horses were standing at the fronts of their stalls. Brag knew what he saw, that the stalls were clean and that quarter horses appeared to be in top condition. He took excellent care of his animals. They weren’t just working tools for him, they were companions.
“Do they spend much time inside?”
“They are the next couple of days. I was working on a new section of fence when I heard you come in. I’m expanding the smaller pasture near the barn.”
“I’ll help with that, once I have everything off the trucks. I’m not worried about unpacking anything until the mood strikes me.”
Laughing, Brag slapped the other man on the shoulder in a friendly gesture. “I appreciate your offer to help, but my brothers will be over soon. The posts are in. Now it’s just a matter of getting the fencing up. So, I guess you’re stuck with unpacking boxes. How are your horses when they’re out with others?”
“Charlie and Chuck are good. They love every horse on the planet, which is why my parents chose them to be their trail horses. Zappa and Kroenraad aren’t the friendliest with other horses. They tolerate each other, but I don’t let them out together.”
They walked outside. Peyton looked around. He inhaled deeply. Although it was summer, the breeze was bringing cool air off of the mountains in the distance. “It smells good here. Not like back home, where there’s the exhaust off so many vehicles filling the air. I like the quiet, too.” Peyton chuckled. “Now I won’t have to shut myself up in a room to get work done. I can sit outside and enjoy it while I write.”
“Your father sent me a copy of each of your books. You’re a fantastic storyteller. There were a few times when I didn’t want to go to bed. There was also more than one time when I was so tired the next day, I didn’t want to get out of bed.”
The color rising in Peyton’s cheeks was cute. “Thanks. I lo
ve hearing good things from readers. My dad sent books to a lot of people. He told me he wanted everyone to know what a terrific writer his son was. Fuck, if I’m not going to miss that man!”
Brag watched as Peyton turned away as the raw emotion of grief took over. Witnessing the man’s pain was incredibly difficult. He put his hand on Peyton’s shoulder, keeping contact until he had recovered.
“Sorry. It just sneaks up on me sometimes.”
“It’s completely understandable. Your father hasn’t been gone long. I’m sure you still have moments when you can’t believe he passed.”
“You’re right about that.”
The rumbling of large vehicles on the road below caught their attention. “Well, it looks like you won’t have to sleep on my couch tonight.” That was too bad. Brag wanted to find out if the gorgeous man was gay. He might have found out, if they spent more time together.
Fortunately for them, the driver of the moving van knew what he was doing and had the truck turned around with little effort. A few minutes later a large silver horse trailer was towed in. The driver paused long enough to give Peyton a grin and a thumbs up. The horses moved restlessly in the trailer as it was backed up to the open doors of the barn. The first two were the geldings, Chuck and Charlie. It was obvious they were happy to be out of the trailer. Brag took their leads and walked them around for several minutes, smiling when they called out and Brag’s horses answered. The driver and the co-driver got out and offered to take them.
By the time the horses had some of the stiffness worked out of them, and they were put in their stalls, the two remaining horses were beyond wanting out. All Brag had seen of them were their rumps and bound tails. He waited as Peyton entered the trailer ahead of the first one. Within a minute, a gorgeous horse, every inch of seventeen hands, was dancing around on the end of the lead, ears forward and nostrils spread wide.
The dark bay horse with the four white stockings was gorgeous. “This is Kroenraad,” Peyton told Brag. “He’s a Dutch warmblood. He just turned eighteen and has had a long and exciting career in both dressage and show jumping. You’re my buddy, aren’t you?” The horse’s head came down to give Peyton a playful push. “How do you like your new home?”
“Are you going to be able to let them out in the pasture?”
“It should be okay. They’ve always respected the boundaries.”
After Kroenraad was in his stall, the last horse was taken off the trailer. If anyone had asked him which horse’s beauty impressed him more, he wouldn’t have been able to say. Zappa was all fire as he danced excitedly on the lead. Brag noticed Peyton didn’t give the dapple-gray gelding as much leeway, his expression watchful.
“He’s been known to kick. Neither has ever been a biter, but you know horses. There’s a first time for everything.”
“Hey, warnings are always welcome. Not that I’ve ever trusted a horse completely.” He chuckled. “I learned that early on. My first horse kicked me and I hit the side of the barn.”
Peyton reached up to scratch an ear. “For all his orneriness, he’s been a great horse to work with. He gives his all. He’s only fifteen and some said it was terrible that I was choosing to retire him.” Broad shoulders shrugged. “Once I stopped competing, I did allow them to be ridden by others for a few years. However, I’m here now and my life is changing. I felt I should bring my horses with me and let them just live as horses.”
“Well, there’s plenty of room here for them to be that.” Brag didn’t know anything about these fancy horses but did understand a person’s need to reward an animal for hard work, by allowing them to live out their lives in comfort. “Let’s get them settled.”
Settled wasn’t what Brag was when two large dogs made an appearance in the open doorway of the barn. All he could see were their shadows. Not only were they large, they were hairy.
“What the hell?”
Peyton reached out to touch his arm as he chuckled. “Not to worry. Those are my dogs, King and Cupcake. They’re Bouvier des Flandres. Or Bouvs. They spend a lot of time with the horses, so it’s best they get to know you. Cupcake, sit and stay. King, come.”
Brag watched as one dog sat obediently and the other came forward at a brisk trot. The dog seemingly ignored Brag as he sat down in front of Peyton. The dog only looked at Brag when Peyton touched him again.
“Friend, King.” The dog’s body relaxed, but he didn’t move. “I certainly don’t have to do this with everyone. It’s more of reinforcing your place here, which they’ll recognize soon enough. They’re not mindless monsters, but they are naturally wary of strangers. They’ll go back and forth between the house and the barn. Cupcake likes to spend time with me. King is very attached to Charlie and Chuck.” The dog still sitting in the doorway gave a sharp bark when she heard her name. “Cupcake, come!”
To his relief, neither dog seemed to mind Brag much. His dog, an Australian cattle dog, had died the year before. He’d missed having a dog around but hadn’t been able to replace him.
“Well, I better go see what’s going on with the furniture. I told the guys this morning that there was no rush. And there isn’t, but I’m sure they’re going to want to get that truck off these narrow roads before it gets dark. If you want, come by later for a drink.”
“Sounds good.”
Because he had work of his own to do, Brag watched Peyton walk away before he went back to nailing fencing to posts. Two of his brothers showed up to help. He could always count on them to do what they would. The job would be finished faster, and he could get back to working on the family ranch.
The three of them paused when another truck arrived, a long, closed-in trailer behind it. Peyton came out waving in a friendly manner to the driver. Within minutes, two vehicles were backed out of the trailer, a large pick-up and a fancy gunmetal gray German sports car. Peyton looked them over and then took a clipboard from the driver, obviously signing off on their condition. Then the truck and empty trailer were heading back out, while Peyton put both vehicles in the garage and out of the way.
“So, that’s Peyton,” Dirk commented.
“Yep, that’s him.”
“He’s hot in those leather pants.”
Cam’s observation irritated Brag, but all he said was, “He might be. It is a warm day.”
A leather-covered fist playfully punched Brag in the shoulder. “Jerk, you know what I mean. Don’t try to tell me that you didn’t notice. What’s he like?”
“Nice.” Brag didn’t have to give that any thought. “He’s a lot like his father.”
“That’s good. It would have been sad if the guy had turned out to be an asswipe.”
Brag silently agreed with Dirk. Again, he didn’t make too much of what his brothers were saying. He didn’t want them to know he found Peyton extremely attractive. The sight of him had made Brag’s dick perk up. He’d had to momentarily think of his grandmother’s yarn collection. Although it was impressive, it was enough of a distraction to get his hormones in check. Hell, he didn’t even know if Peyton was gay. The guy wasn’t giving off any signals.
“So, is he gay?”
“No clue. Now, can we get this done? There are four more horses that need to be exercised.”
But, of course, neither of his brothers could leave it alone. It was a good thing Troy and Flynn weren’t there, or they would help Cam and Dirk by piling the crap on him. He loved his brothers, he really did, but sometimes it took a lot of patience to deal with them.
“Oh, I think he’s trying to divert our attention away from his obvious attraction to Peyton.”
“I don’t know what good it will do,” Cam threw in. “Brag has the romantic technique of a sleeping lizard.”
Brag’s eyebrows shot up toward his hairline. “Seriously? A sleeping lizard?”
“Well, you have to admit that you have about as much success as one in the love department.”
“The right guy just hasn’t come along yet.”
Dirk and Cam snorted i
n unison. “You’ve dated half the men in this part of the state. Are you saying not one of them came close to being the right guy?”
Looking around, he asked, completely exasperated by their doggedness, “Do you see him anywhere? Now, either you two funny guys start working, or go home.”
The fact that he hadn’t found that special someone was a sore spot to him. Not that they knew it. Brag and his brothers tended to be rather cavalier about their sex partners, which none of them thought of as lovers. They didn’t do long term. Actually, Brag couldn’t remember the last time he had gone out with someone more than twice. It was getting tiresome.
By the time they left four hours later, Brag was wishing he was an only child. The loveable bastards had found a weakness and hadn’t failed to exploit it. They thought his irritation with them was hilarious. If the proverbial shoe had been on the other foot, he probably would have thought so, too.
Brag put away all the tools and then went back outside to look at the finished fencing. He leaned against the corner of the barn and lifted the insulated metal bottle he held to his lips, taking several swallows of water to finish it.
Hearing his horses moving around in their stalls, he went in and opened their stall doors. His geldings walked out nicely, as if they were boys leaving church. Once they were outside, however, they ran and kicked up their heels, enjoying their freedom. Normally, his horses would be in the lower pasture on the floor of the canyon when he didn’t need them. Today, however, he had decided to keep them close.
“Want something stronger?”
Brag hadn’t heard Peyton enter the barn. King walked by him but didn’t acknowledge Brag. The dog stood there and watched the horses trotting around the new perimeter of the fence, their heads high as they called to the horses in the valley.
Setting aside his water, he took the bottle of beer from Peyton and twisted off the cap. The bite of the bitter brew was pleasant with a citrus flavor, but unfamiliar. He looked at the label. “Mmm, this is good. I’ve never had it before.”