His Convenient Husband

by J. L. Langley

  “But he promised to tell me what his lawyer said about—” Oh no. No one knew that Micah had gotten a copy of the will beforehand.

  “The will. Yes, go on.”

  “But how did—?” Micah asked. Tio had told Micah where to look. “You knew. You knew I’d take it to Tucker.”

  “I hoped. I knew you’d ask him for help eventually with the ranch. Only a moron would let his home rot because of pride. You’re no moron, mijo.”

  “But how’d you know it’d be me who asked for Tucker’s help?” If Micah hadn’t been sitting, he was certain his legs would have given out.

  “You’re the one handling the money. Figured you know better than anyone how bad things had gotten. I thought the will might speed things up though.” Tio grinned again. “Glad they did. Listen, and listen carefully. Life’s too short to waste, perrito. Don’t let a misunderstanding get in the way of your heart’s desire. Love isn’t always easy, but it’s worth it.” His voice wavered again and he turned his head away, like there was something interesting out in the pasture.

  Micah looked toward the field. There was nothing there. “You’re too much, Tio. I thought cowboys were supposed to be anti-gay. Shouldn’t you be damning me to hell and all that good stuff?”

  Tio chuckled, but it sounded rusty, not his usual merry self. “I’m no hypocrite, mijo. ’Sides, I love you. I want you to be happy.”

  Hypocrite? Micah nearly fell off the rail. Why hadn’t he seen it before? What foreman slept in the main house with a connecting bathroom to the master suite? His uncle and Ferguson had been lovers. “Well, I’ll be damned. Did his wife know?” It made perfect sense now that he thought about it.

  “’Course she did. She was a good woman. Why do you think the bed in my room is bigger than the one in the master bedroom? Only time she ever shared his bed was to get us Jeffery.”

  Oh, damn. Tio must hurt worse than anyone. Micah couldn’t imagine what he’d feel like if something happened to Tucker. Even Tucker being gone wasn’t so bad, not compared to death. If Tucker died… It felt like Micah had swallowed glass, and his heart hurt.

  Micah shook his head, trying to get rid of the thought of Tucker dying. “I guess this means I shouldn’t set you up with Mrs. Higgins.”

  “Good Lord, boy, she must be eighty!”

  They both snickered, then fell silent for several moments.

  “He should’ve told me what he’d found out about Duncan and the will,” Micah whispered. “He’s just taken over like I’m not even a part of the family.”

  “Did you ever consider he was trying to keep from getting you worked up? You have an ulcer, son. You’ve enough stress to deal with. You and your damnable Latin temperament. Nothing you do is halfway. It’s full tilt or not at all. What would it have done for him to tell you? You’d have just worried on it. Or maybe I should say, you’d have worried even more than you already were.”

  Micah’s shoulders slumped. His tio was right. Tucker had let him help with the ranch business. Tucker had as much as said he was protecting Micah. How could Micah get it across to Tucker that he didn’t need protecting?

  “Before you say it…it’s a natural thing. We all try to protect those we love.”

  Good grief, now Tio was a mind reader. “How do you do that? It’s weird.”

  Tio shrugged. “I’ve been where you are now. And I know you. Didn’t raise you without learning a few things about you.”

  Tears sprang to Micah’s eyes and he sniffed them back. He should thank his mother’s family for what they did. Otherwise he’d have never had what his uncle gave him. “I love you, Tio.”

  “I love you too, mijo, but I’m not the person you need to be telling that to right now.”

  All the wind rushed from Micah’s sails again. “I don’t even know if he’s staying.”

  The porch door opened and slammed shut. “He’s staying and he’s sorry.” Tucker’s voice was a little shaky.

  Turning a startled glance to Tucker, Micah froze, not believing he’d heard right. How long had Tucker been there? What had he heard? Micah’s throat closed up, refusing to allow air in. Uncertainty rose within him. He’d been set to leave, at least until Tucker was gone, but—

  Could it really be this easy?

  Chapter Thirteen

  Tucker grabbed Micah’s hand. “Can I talk to you?” As an afterthought he added, “Please?” He’d really messed up and if he didn’t tread carefully, Micah might not hear him out. Tucker didn’t want to take that chance. As it was his heart was still in his throat from Micah walking out on him. Tucker had never thought Micah would really leave.

  Micah glanced back at Juan then nodded, letting Tucker lead him.

  Relief washed through Tucker. At least Micah was willing to listen. Tucker hadn’t been so sure, the way he’d stormed out. Meeting Juan’s gaze over Micah’s shoulder, Tucker bobbed his head. “Night, Juan.”

  Grinning, Juan winked. “Night, boys.”

  As Tucker opened the door, Micah pulled them to a halt. “Tio?”

  “Yeah?” Juan flicked the ashes off his cigarette.

  Holding the door open, Tucker squeezed Micah’s hand, not wanting him to pull away.

  Micah’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “Thank you. And if you need someone to talk to…”

  “Go, mijo. And remember what I said.” Juan glanced at Tucker then back to Micah. “Talk things out. There are worse things. You have each other, all the rest is trivial.”

  Nodding, Micah acknowledged his uncle’s words. “Night, Tio.”

  Shutting the door behind them, Tucker asked, “What was that about?”

  Letting go of Tucker’s hand, Micah stopped at the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water. He shrugged. “Are you really staying?”

  “Do you want me to stay?” A flutter of unease trickled up Tucker’s spine when Micah didn’t answer right away. Had he ruined things between them?

  Micah stopped with the bottle halfway to his mouth. “Can you stop trying to protect me?”

  Sighing, Tucker leaned against the counter next to Micah. “I’ll try.” It wasn’t going to be easy. He had protected Micah since they’d first met. Tucker had left Micah and The Bar D to protect Micah.

  Nodding slowly, Micah took a drink, then put the cap back on the bottle and set it on the counter. “I guess that’s all I can ask for.” He didn’t look at Tucker, just kept his gaze on the floor. Unsure. He was unsure.

  Tucker’s chest swelled with hope. Micah cared. He wouldn’t be so unsure if he didn’t. Lifting Micah’s chin, Tucker stared into his brown eyes. “I can’t promise I won’t try to take care of you. It’s what I do. I’ve watched over you since you were a kid. It’s habit. But I can promise you it’s done out of love.”

  “Are you telling me you love me?” Micah’s eyes were watery and wide.

  “Yeah. I love you. Have for as long as I can remember. I never should’ve left The Bar D, but I was so afraid I wasn’t being fair to you. You were so damn young. I never should have—”

  Micah grabbed Tucker’s head and yanked it down to him. He crushed his mouth over Tucker’s in a punishing kiss. Micah’s tongue plunged into Tucker’s mouth and his fingers gripped Tucker’s head, tugging Tucker’s hair, giving Tucker no choice but to submit. It was uncomfortable, but exhilarating at the same time. This was Micah. His Micah…his husband.

  Winding his arms around Micah’s waist, Tucker hugged him closer, reveling in the feel of his lean, hard body. He didn’t try to take over, just enjoyed what Micah gave and tried to give back the best he could, running his hands up and down Micah’s slim back.

  Finally, the brutal assault gentled into a loving, tender kiss. Micah released the death grip on Tucker’s head and slipped down to wrap around Tucker’s neck and rest on his shoulders. Tilting his head to the side, Micah made a breathy little sound and pulled back. He pressed his lips to Tucker’s again before retreating and opening his eyes. He looked…blissful…happy. Micah looked happy.
>
  Tucker traced his thumb over Micah’s lower lip and gave him a quick kiss. “I thought you were going to leave me.”

  Micah took a deep breath and hugged Tucker tighter, resting his head on Tucker’s shoulder. “I was.”

  “What stopped you?” Rubbing his hand up and down Micah’s back, he marveled that this man was really his. He’d loved Micah for so long. None of the men he’d dated had ever compared.

  “You have my truck at your townhouse.”

  Tucker froze. “What?”

  “I didn’t have a car.”

  Tucker leaned back, a smirk on his lips. “You’re absolute hell on my ego.”

  “Good, your ego could use some deflating.” Micah grinned then buried his head on Tucker’s shoulder again. “I’d have come back. Does that help?”

  Laughing, Tucker shook his head. This was what a relationship was all about. Not only were they lovers but friends. This connection between them was what Tucker could never get over, what he was so afraid of ruining with taking Micah as a lover. Yet resisting Micah had been futile, then and now. Tucker kissed the top of Micah’s head and ran his fingers through his hair. “You’re wrong, you know.”

  Micah snuggled in, hugging Tucker tighter. “About?”

  “You being a convenient husband. The will was a convenient excuse to finally claim you, but you’ve always been the goal, not keeping the ranch. I just didn’t want to admit it at first, even to myself.”

  Micah’s jaw dropped open and he cocked his head to the side, a look of utter confusion on his handsome face. “Re—Really?”

  Grinning ear to ear, Tucker tugged him close again and wrapped Micah in his arms where he belonged. “Really. Besides, loving you has never been convenient.”

  Epilogue

  A year later

  Leaning over and resting his forearm on his saddle horn, Micah tried not to laugh. He was happy to see Tio so happy, but…

  Micah shook his head and smiled. If Tio rode any closer to Devon, one of their new ranch hands, he was going to mash their legs together between the horses. When was the last time Micah had seen his uncle so captivated and spending all his free time with someone? Not since Ferguson was alive. It did Micah’s heart good to see his tio with Devon. And Devon seemed to like Tio’s company. Fishing in the stock tank after chores had become a habit of theirs since a week after Devon started working at The Bar D.

  “What’s so funny?” Tucker reined in beside him.

  Micah was so caught up in his mirth he hadn’t even realized he had company.

  Tucker sat on Dandelion, wearing a pair of cargo shorts, T-shirt, flip-flops and sunglasses, with no saddle. He obviously wasn’t going far. When Micah had last seen him, Tucker had been poring over the accounts in the office.

  “What’re you doing out here?”

  “I came to find you.” Tucker looked past Micah and cocked his head to the side, a grin on his face. “What is Juan? Eighty?”

  “He’s only sixty-nine.” Micah looked back to where his uncle rode close to Devon. “Devon’s at least, what? Forty-five?”

  “Thirty-eight. I checked his application.”

  “Oh, well that’s not too bad, then. Was his sexual orientation on that application, by any chance?”

  Tucker chuckled. “Nope, but if he hasn’t decked Juan yet, I’m guessing he’s gay. Either that or he really likes working on The Bar D.”

  Micah laughed.

  “Is ‘going fishing’ code for something else?” Tucker mused.

  “I’ve no idea, but I love to see Juan happy. Losing Ferguson was hard on him. Now if we can just find a woman for your dad.”

  “Good luck with that. My mom put him off relationships. But that isn’t why I came out here.” Tucker dug into the pocket of his khaki shorts and pulled out something. Holding it fisted in his hand, he extended it toward Micah.

  “What’s that?” Micah frowned.

  “The reason I came out here.” Tucker shook his fist. “Hold your hand out.”

  What was Tucker up to? Micah held his hand open, palm up.

  Tucker dropped a gold ring into his hand.

  “What’s this?”

  “A wedding ring.”

  Warmth spread through Micah’s body and his chest tightened. His life was good. His family was safe and happy. Ferguson had his wish and they hadn’t had to contest the will to get the ranch, nor had Duncan contested it. They’d even buried the hatchet enough to loan Duncan money to invest. He’d already paid them back and even called occasionally to talk to Jeff. They still didn’t get along, but Duncan was trying. AJ kept claiming that Duncan regretted his actions and missed his family. Micah agreed but he stayed out of it. Duncan had stopped calling Micah names, but they weren’t friendly by any stretch of the imagination. Micah didn’t care, it wasn’t up to him. If Jeff wanted to forgive Duncan, he would. It didn’t affect Micah one way or another. He had everything he needed, everything he’d always wanted.

  Leaning forward, Tucker wrapped a hand around Micah’s neck and pulled him closer. Tucker pressed his mouth to Micah’s in a quick kiss before releasing him. “Read the inscription.”

  It took Micah several seconds to pull his attention away from Tucker’s mouth. “Huh?”

  “Read the inside of the ring.”

  “Did you get you one too?”

  “Yup.” Tucker held up his left hand, showing off the gold band on his finger. “Now read it.”

  Holding the ring up to the fading sunlight, Micah read the engraved message. To my convenient husband, love Tucker.

  Pure joy made Micah throw his head back and laugh. Yes, he definitely had everything he’d always wanted.

  About the Author

  To learn more about J.L. Langley, please visit www.jllangley.com/. Send an email to J.L at 10star@jllangley.com or join her Yahoo! group to join in the fun with other readers as well as J.L. http://groups.yahoo.com/group/the_yellow_rose.

  Look for these titles by J.L. Langley

  Now Available:

  Without Reservations

  With Love

  With Caution

  My Fair Captain

  The Englor Affair

  His Convenient Husband

  Choose your weapons.

  ePistols at Dawn

  © 2009 Z.A. Maxfield

  Jae-sun Fields is pissed. Someone has taken the seminal coming-out, coming-of-age novel Doorways and satirized it. He’s determined to use his Internet skills and his job as a tabloid reporter to out the author as the fraud and no-talent hack he’s sure she is.

  Kelly Kendall likes his anonymity and, except for his houseboy, factotum and all-around slut, Will, he craves solitude. There’s also that crippling case of OCD that makes it virtually impossible for him to leave the house. He’s hidden his authorship of Doorways behind layers of secrets and several years’ worth of lies—until he loses a bet.

  Satirizing his own work, as far as he can see, is his own damned prerogative. Except now he has an online stalker, one who always seems several steps ahead of him in their online duel for information.

  A chance meeting reveals more than hidden identities—it exposes a mutual magnetic attraction that can’t be denied. And pushes the stakes that much higher, into a zone that could get way too personal…

  Warning: This book contains large Korean men; Will, the houseboy, factotum, and all-around slut; hot sexy manlove including oral sex, and serious ass play. (Jae’s note to self: OCD + socks + mouth = BAD.)

  Enjoy the following excerpt for ePistols at Dawn:

  Kelly stood looking at the clock tower. Jae broke the silence. “Originally, I thought maybe we could go to the observatory.”

  “Oh, that would be—”

  “We don’t have to.” Jae took his hand. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to, I don’t know, gird your loins to come and see me. I don’t want you to dread coming up here.”

  Kelly quirked a small smile that was genuine and dazzling and then whispered, “I think i
t far more likely I’m going to dread going home.”

  “Yeah?” Jae used his remote, but instead of entering the car Kelly leaned against the door and smiled up at him in invitation.

  “You make me feel like a doll,” Kelly said on a breath, his eyes on Jae’s. For all Jae had been thinking about Kelly’s eyes, he found things in them he hadn’t noticed before, tiny gold and orange flecks inside the hazel irises and coal-colored rings around them. Long, dusky eyelashes caused smudgy shadows when they swept down, either to blink or to hide his thoughts. Kelly lowered them right then and a delicate flush stained his cheeks.

  “Do I stand too close?” Jae asked. “Loom too much?”

  “No.” Kelly swallowed, and his Adam’s apple bobbed. The first pleasant rush of arousal flooded Jae’s body. For once he didn’t want to act on it immediately. He didn’t want to shatter the delicacy of the moment.

  “I can think of someplace to go. Someplace quiet.”

  Kelly smiled. Jae could see what he thought. He thought Jae was suggesting someplace where they could act on what Jae was sure they both wanted.

  “All right,” Kelly murmured with an expression that defined surrender. Jae opened the door for him and helped him in, sliding a hand down his arm and around to help him buckle up in a gesture that became an excuse for brushing touches on skin that rippled and got gooseflesh with anticipation. Kelly made the most of the opportunity to touch him back.

  “I have just the place.” Jae closed the door and walked around the back of the car. While Jae drove, Kelly kneaded his shoulder. Jae had placed his coat in the back of the car. With only the thin fabric of a black T-shirt between his skin and Kelly’s fingertips, he felt the warmth of the man’s hand as it caressed him. He pulled into the parking lot of the Kyoto Grand Hotel, and to his surprise, Kelly asked no questions, just allowed himself to be led.

  It was as if Kelly didn’t look at anything but him. That unnerving and frank gaze was serene as he waited for Jae to tell him—to show him—what was going to happen. There was a waiting stillness in him that Jae was willing to attribute to wisdom, to age, to tranquility, to fear. To anything, really, but indifference. When Jae put his hand on the small of Kelly’s back and led him from the elevator out into the garden, he felt the heat coming off Kelly in waves. Not indifference then, far from it. Submission.