Stetsons and Stakeouts

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Stetsons and Stakeouts Page 25

by BA Tortuga


  The problem was, he liked Bonner. Liked his courage, his slow-talking sensibility, and his wicked humor. As much as he wanted that body, he was learning to admire the soul in it.

  Lord, his parents were going to have a field day with this. They’d just been waiting…. He rolled to his back to text his mother.

  You’re still in Paris, right

  Hmm?

  Oh. Oh fuck no. No way. He sat up, shaking his head. Where are you?

  Traveling. How are you, baby?

  Tired. I would call, but the lover is sleeping

  So he’s at the house? Good. Hospitals are awful

  That was Mamma—no criticism, no stress. He’d come out to her at fourteen, to Massimo at eighteen. He had no illusions that Mamma had eased the way with his father, none, but Massimo had been understanding, even loving. He would never forget that.

  The old man was pretty damn cool.

  Yeah. He’s on the way to recovery

  Praise God for that.

  How’s Massimo? His father had a love/hate relationship with traveling.

  Grumpy as always

  Give him my love.

  I will. See you soon, baby. Gotta go!

  He knew better than to tell her not to come. He would, however, kick Jerilyn when he saw her. Hell, he needed to know when she was going to arrive.

  Sighing, he tossed his phone on the night table. Damn, this was all getting complicated. His life got more and more like a damn Agatha Christie novel every day. Or maybe Stephen King, if his folks showed up in the next day or two….

  Yeah, that could complicate the shit out of things.

  At least he wouldn’t be bored.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  “BONNER, YOU really need to let Kevin do his job. He’s being decent about doing house calls because I asked.” Mason was sounding… peeved.

  “I am! I’m wearing the fucking brace, ain’t I? No matter how bad it hurts?” Bonner hated the goddamn torture device, hated the exercise. Hated how his body didn’t feel like his own no more. He needed to be able to drive, to go see Bri, to get some work done.

  “I know.” Mason sighed, his expression going sympathetic. “I do. But you need to do your session today. You have to heal right, kiddo. So you can ride again.”

  “You think I can ride again?”

  The look on Mason’s face told him what he needed to know, even before the doctor said, “You’ll be able to ride horses, work the ranch. You’re a fool if you get back up on a bronc.”

  Bonner sighed. “Yeah. I figured you would say that.” He turned his head to stare out the window. “Guess I can get another opinion, but it would just be the same thing.”

  “Get over it, kid. Rodeo is a sport for the young.”

  “I’m not old, dammit.”

  “Old enough to retire, and we both know it.”

  Bonner shook his head. He had another four or five years in him, didn’t he? “What do you know about it?” he snapped.

  “Well, aside from the fact that I’m a doctor and a Texan, I have a baby brother who’s an all-around champ.”

  And what was he?

  Nothing.

  A broke-dick cowboy who was sleeping with the boss. Jesus.

  He had to get himself well enough to drive.

  “Bonner, you’re looking wild around the eyes.” Mason’s voice went low. Calm.

  “Am I?”

  “You are. Breathe, kiddo.”

  “I got to go, Mason. I can’t be a stone around anyone’s neck.”

  “Don’t be a fool.” Mason sat down across from him. “Colt says Gianni is crazy about you.”

  “I’m not worth a plug nickel, and we all know it.”

  “I know that’s how you feel, but that’s partly the opiates talking.”

  He looked over at the doc. “Yeah?” Oh, he could be all over that.

  “Yes. They cause all sorts of feelings of depression and worthlessness.” Mason’s direct stare told him that wasn’t just a pretty story.

  “Okay. I could… I can handle that.”

  “Good. Because as you get better, you need fewer pills. Fewer pills, better life.” Mason stood. “Therapy. Can I let Kevin in?”

  “Yeah. I guess so. Can I get in the hot tub yet?”

  “After the stitches are out and the scabs are gone. Give it another couple weeks.”

  “Man, there’s no fun for a back injury.”

  “You can take a shower when you’re done.” Mason winked, then left him, letting in the evil therapist.

  Maybe Gianni would help.

  “Hey, you evil fucker.”

  “Bonner. My favorite grumpy patient.”

  “I’m tired of this brace, man.”

  “I know. You got to wear it, though.” Kevin actually looked sorry.

  “How long?”

  “I can’t tell you.” Kevin dropped his bag on the floor. “The surgeon will be back to evaluate you in two weeks, but six weeks is average. You ready for stretches?”

  He shook his head. “Sure.”

  Kevin’s smile was definitely sympathetic. “Come on, stud. You can do it. I have faith.”

  “I can. I don’t want to, but I can.” The torture started, and about the time he was fixin’ to give up, Gianni came in.

  “Hey, Kevin. Hello, caro.” Gianni smiled for him, and that took all the pain away for a moment.

  “Hey, ho-honey.”

  “Do we need to do these stretches on days you’re not here?” Gianni asked. “I can help him, if it’ll make things easier.”

  “That would be great. If you could just start with the easy stuff. The first three I taught you, Bonner.”

  “Hateful man.”

  “It will be easier on him if he does them daily.”

  “He’s right here!”

  “Hush.” Gianni grinned at him. “You’ll like it better when I help you.”

  “I’m not sure why you haven’t hired him full-time, baby. If he needs it.” A tiny, curvy blonde stood in the doorway, a smile on her face. “Hello, Gianni, my love. I’ve missed you so much.”

  “Mamma.” Gianni whirled around, rushing to pick up the lady who looked nothing at all like Miss Jerilyn.

  Oh damn.

  He was dressed at least, even if he was pale and sweaty.

  “Put me down and introduce me real quick. We’ll see all y’all for supper, and I can let you meet the hubs.”

  Gianni kissed his mother’s cheeks, each in turn. “Mamma, this is Bonner and Kevin. This is my mother, Diana Webb-Cesare.”

  “Pleased to meet you, ma’am.” He smiled at her from his place on the portable massage table.

  “I’m tickled shitless, honey. Seriously. Maria says that someone’s arriving today to recover in our normal suite, so we’re staying at Sister’s, baby, if that’s okay?”

  “It’s fine, Mamma. Is Massimo beside himself?”

  “With glee. He’s already called Lew to come plan the renovations.”

  Renovations? What the hell?

  “Mamma?” Sounded like Gianni was just as confused.

  “He’s going to redo Jerilyn’s master suite and build her a garden room.”

  “Don’t forget to add a nursery. A big one.” Oh, Gianni was evil. Evil.

  Miz Diana clapped her hands. “Oh, I have to go call him. I’ll see you boys later. Nice to meet you. Cookout tonight? Papà can make steaks.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Gianni kissed her cheek again. “Bonner needs a shower now. I’ll see you in a bit.”

  “Nice to meet you, Bonner. We’ll chat.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Oh God. God help him. Was she gonna kick him out?

  “Nice to meet you, ma’am,” Kevin said. “Sadly, I have to get back to the hospital.”

  “Oh. Oh well. We’ll have to have you back.” She disappeared with a wave and a bounce, and Kevin shook his head.

  “Wow. You need some help up off the table?”

  “Yes, please.” He needed to show
er, get dressed.

  “Thanks, Kevin.” Gianni came to ease him up, Kevin supporting his back. “I think we got it now.”

  “Good deal. Make sure and pad the brace, huh? He’s starting to chafe.”

  “Can we lube him?” Gianni was laughing, but under it lay serious concern.

  “Powder. Lube will make it worse. Powder and soft cotton.”

  “You got it.” Gianni walked him to the bathroom, eased him down on the pot. The water came on under Gianni’s touch. “I’ll be right back, caro. I’ll walk you out, Kevin.”

  “No big.” He could get himself out of the brace and into the shower. He could. Then he needed to get dressed.

  The murmur of voices reached him, but he couldn’t lift his arms to get the brace off, so Bonner dozed. Therapy was hell. Exhausting hell, but it wasn’t his first time through it, so there was that.

  “Hey, baby. Let me help.” Gianni eased off his brace, then kissed the back of his neck. The warm, damp, lingering touch sent heat all through him.

  “Hey.” He blinked up, needing a kiss, a caress, something.

  “Ciao.” Gianni gave him a press of lips on his, slow and almost heavy. The kiss drugged him, made him moan. “Come shower with me, let me hold you. Please.”

  “God yes, honey.” He only stumbled a little when Gianni took him to the huge rainbath shower with the bench seat big enough for him to sit on Gianni’s lap.

  “Better?” Gianni asked.

  “Mmm. Every time I think about leaving, this shower keeps me here.”

  “Just the shower, caro?”

  “Stop fishing. Your momma is here.” They couldn’t have teasing with Gianni’s momma around.

  “Not with us right now.” Gianni soaped him up, hands so gentle. “Thank God for small favors.”

  “Yes, indeed. This is private.”

  “Yes.” He leaned hard, trusting Gianni to hold on.

  “Your mom is a pretty lady.”

  “Yeah. She is. Tough as nails too.”

  “I bet. She raised you.” Oh, look at him, being all brilliant and shit.

  “Oh, caro, you haven’t met my Papà. He’s the toughest thing she’s ever encountered.”

  “Yeah? I don’t have a dad, so I don’t have to worry about it.” Hell, they hadn’t had a mom for a while. She’d held on to her addictions for a long time while they were little, but… her demons had her.

  “Massimo is something else, but he was always there for me. That’s why you and Bri are so close, hmm?” Gianni rinsed his hair, the water warm, Gianni’s hands hot.

  “Yessir. She’s a great lady. Seriously. She’s going to be a great mom. I try to have her back.” Please God. Please let it be so.

  “You’re a stand-up guy, caro.” They leaned back. Gianni just holding him now he was clean. The water slid over them, not stinging, just massaging.

  “I’m a cowboy.” It had to be enough.

  “You are. The best kind.” Those hands stroked his chest, just random touches.

  “Is she mad? Your momma? About me, I mean.” He couldn’t imagine a big rancher being tickled about their son being gay, being into a shiftless cowboy.

  “No, caro. She’s worried about all the shit going down here, but she was tickled when I was able to bring you home.”

  “She’s not worried?” He would be worried if he was her. Gianni had a ton to lose; he only had his heart.

  “No. She was an heiress, caro. Her family freaked out when she married some weird brown guy from Italy who whisked her away.” Gianni chuckled low and easy. “She’s all about love.”

  “Do you like it? Italy, I mean. Do you ever go?”

  “I do. I love it, even though sometimes it gets… constraining. My dad’s people expect certain things from me. You’d love the beaches. Where I come from, it can get cold, but we have a villa in Sicily. You should come.”

  Gianni said the most outrageous things. They were words that didn’t even have meaning. He’d never have the cash to go overseas.

  “Come on. Let’s get dry, hmm? We can have a tiny nap before supper.” Rising when Gianni held him and helped with his back seemed so easy.

  “No brace,” he reminded Gianni. He hated that goddamn thing.

  “Not in bed, no.”

  “I’m so tired of not being right.”

  Gianni kissed him gently. “Soon, caro. Soon.”

  He hoped so. Bonner was beginning to worry that it was impossible to believe he’d be whole again. He’d had injuries in his career, but this was… well, it was catastrophic to a guy like him.

  “Relax, hmm. Don’t undo all the good work I’ve done.”

  “You?” He laughed out loud, just tickled as shit. “I sweat like a lathered horse doing that.”

  “I know. And I washed and relaxed you.” Gianni pushed him down gently, the cloudlike bed cradling him again.

  “You did. It’s like magic, a little, your touch.” More than a little.

  “See? I’m good for you.” Gianni kissed him again. “Sleep.”

  “Sleep.” He nodded, melting back into the sheets. “Sleep.”

  He knew, even if Gianni didn’t stay with him, the man would be there when he woke up. That was totally enough to let him slide right into a nap.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  GIANNI HEADED downstairs after Bonner drifted off, knowing his folks would still be down there. They wouldn’t go back to Jerilyn’s until after supper. He knew he had to start out like he could hold out. “Really. You two couldn’t warn me?”

  Massimo met his eyes, his silver-haired father allowing one eyebrow to wing up. “Buon giorno, figliolo.”

  “Ciao, Papà.” He moved right into his father’s embrace, which was strong and back-pounding.

  “You knew we were in Boston,” Mamma said easily.

  “You knew I was dealing with injured men, Mamma.”

  “I did. We came to help. You have a houseful, two down, babies coming.”

  “How are you going to help?” He wasn’t trying to be ugly, but renovating Jerilyn’s house wasn’t an essential function.

  She put her hands on her hips. “I run all three of your daddy’s households, and I ran this damn ranch for almost five years when your pappy was sick. You don’t tell me.”

  Oh goddammit.

  “Mamma.” He held out his hands. “I’m sorry, huh? It’s been a shit few weeks. I’m all sandpapery.”

  “It’s okay, baby. Just don’t snarl.” She took his hands, pulling him in for a hug. “You’re okay. I just wanted to see you. I wanted to meet your man. I need to be useful.”

  “You just want to see the babies when they’re born.”

  “We’ll have to talk about that. Jerilyn is talking about adopting them, son. This is very odd.”

  He grinned at her. “Well, her ovaries are reminding her she squandered their best years.” Sobering, he went on. “I think she’s real lonely, Mamma.”

  “I know she is, and I know this little girl is unsure about what she wants to do, but….”

  “But she needs to not pressure Bri in any way.” He had no idea what Bonner’s sister wanted to do. He needed to get them back to the ranch, and Mamma needed to go see Jerilyn.

  “Exactly. Have you met her, this girl? Is she good?” Massimo stared over at him, black eyes fierce.

  “She’s a good kid who had a rough time. She has a big decision to make.” Bri was just a baby herself. He wasn’t going to push either way, but Jerilyn was really into the idea of those babies growing up at the ranch.

  “What about the father?” Mamma asked.

  “In jail.”

  Massimo cursed softly, a string of Italian that burned his ears.

  “I know. She knew he was a bad boy. She just had no idea how bad.”

  “This is your guy’s sister, baby? Where’s their mother?”

  “She’s a tarot reader in New Orleans, ma’am.” Bonner stood there, pale as milk but dressed, wearing a button-down that was Gianni’s and three sizes t
oo big, but it covered the brace up. “I’m responsible for Bri.”

  “Well, of course you are.” Mamma went to Bonner to take his hand. “We just need to know what all is going on. Come sit down, honey. You need some food and a Coke, don’t you?”

  “I wanted to introduce myself all proper. I’m Bonner Fannin, ma’am, sir. Pleased.”

  “Pleasure, Bonner.” Massimo moved to shake Bonner’s hand. “Diana is right. Sit, please.”

  Before he falls, Gianni thought. Proud little cowboy, determined to make a good impression.

  Mamma sat Bonner down beside him. “Massimo, my love, grab him a Coke? He needs sugar.”

  “Of course.” Massimo could still move.

  Gianni sank down at the table on Bonner’s other side. He needed something stronger than Coke. “Are you all right, caro?”

  “I’m fine.” Those lips were held tight together.

  “Mmm.” Bonner needed a pill. Gianni would slip him one after his snack.

  “Dude, have y’all seen the stretch Hummer?” Greg bounded into the kitchen, then skidded to a stop.

  Mamma’s eyebrow winged up. “Is this another of your team? Really, son, I need to have name tags for them.”

  “Wait until Chris and Xavvy get here.”

  “I remember those boys from high school, smartass child.”

  “Chris is… hurt, Mamma.”

  “Oh, poor baby.”

  “Wait, this is your mom? Jesus. She’s hot as hell.” Greg flexed.

  “Yes, and I am her husband,” Massimo said, drawing himself up with all his haughty magnificence.

  Greg arched one eyebrow. “He’s hot as hell too.”

  Bonner started chuckling, the sound real and charming as anything. All Gianni could do was join him. Jesus, this was his life.

  “This man is a policeman?” Massimo asked, lips quirking as he fought his own laughter.

  “He’s ATF, Papà. Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms.”

  “Ah, all the American vices. I see now.” They all hooted again, even as his mamma opened Bonner’s Coke and began making plates of food from Maria’s stash. Bonner drank carefully, the poor man sitting gingerly, lips still tight. “Do you want to move to the family room, Bonner?”

  “No, ma’am. It’s easier to sit in a straight chair. The brace keeps me from slouching.” Gianni knew it was a testament to his mamma that Bonner mentioned the brace. Her kindness put people off guard.

 

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