by Cameron Dane
Alex’s lips parted, and he had to push his mouth closed. “Like time, time you mean?”
“Yes.”
“Wow.” Alex couldn’t process that level of forgiveness. Mack had sure as hell never given him a clue he’d started up a sexual relationship with Alice again. Maybe if you’d been around more, you might have noticed. Alex swallowed down the guilt, shook his head, and went back to mopping. “I’ll freely admit it, Mack. You’re a bigger man than me.”
“I think you want to be big too,” Mack said, his voice rough but somehow soft too, “but your intellect is holding you back.”
With a look back at Mack, Alex’s brow pulled. “I think you just insulted yourself with that comment.”
“No, I didn’t.” Mack sighed. “But I guess you’ll understand what I mean when you’re ready.” He wheeled his chair over the drying floor Alex had mopped, moving to the small pantry. “I have hope for you yet.”
Now Alex bit back a grin. “I think you just got sappy and mushy on me all rolled into one.”
Mack shot Alex his favorite one-finger salute. “Fuck you.” With a fresh jar of jelly, and a tub of margarine and small container of orange juice from the fridge now in his lap, Mack wheeled his treasures to the table.
Alex’s bark of laughter bounced against the walls and filled the too-bright kitchen. “Fuck you back.” His chest tightened acutely, though, constricting his windpipe terribly. In a way he couldn’t ignore. “Now make me some breakfast already,” he said as he moved in behind Mack’s chair. “It’ll be sunrise in, like, two hours, and the rest of the idiots in the world are wasting time sleeping.” Alex kidded, but at the same time, he dipped down and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of Mack’s head. He held there, pressure building behind his eyes, but only said, “Hop to it.”
It took a few seconds, but Mack eventually rolled away, muttering, “Punk-ass little bitch,” as he did.
Alex called out, “Old man,” in reply.
Mack grunted, and Alex smiled behind his back. In their special way, they’d just said I love you.
For the moment, all was right with the world.
CHAPTER FOUR
JUNE
Sunlight beat down on Hunter’s shoulders and arms, making him perspire under his long-sleeved shirt. Sweat trickled down his neck into his collar, tickling his skin. He tried to tilt his head and rub his shoulder against the tingling area, but the need to scratch only grew.
Elbow-deep in suds, Hunter glanced around, squinting through the light casting the open barn into shadows. The horse in front of Hunter -- in the midst of her bath -- nickered lightly and bumped him on the shoulder.
“I haven’t forgotten about you, girl,” Hunter cooed to the speckled mare. Another bead of sweat tickled as it fell under his collar and veered down his shoulder blade. “Corey?” He spotted the skinny kid backing out of one of the stalls, broom and shovel in hand. “Can you give me a scratch” -- Hunter twitched again -- “right there under my left ear and down to my upper back?”
Corey jogged over, bit off his glove, and scratched slender fingers with nails bitten down to the nub over Hunter’s skin and across his upper back over his shirt.
Relief washed over Hunter’s nerve endings, dragging a euphoric little moan out of him. “Ahh, yeah. That’s good.” He nodded as Corey gave him a good thump on the back. “Thanks.”
“No problem.” Backing into the barn again, Corey grabbed up the broom and shovel. “But you could just use the brush to clean the horses, and then your hands wouldn’t be covered in an inch of soap.”
“I obviously do use it,” Hunter said, eying the round brush attached to a pole, which had a hose attached to it, “but I like to let them feel my hands scrubbing them too. I worked for a rancher when I was a kid, and he told me if you give your horse enough love and attention and you treat it like kin, then it’ll one day more than likely save your life.”
Corey glanced up and out, and Hunter followed his stare to the line of mountains within riding distance -- some of the range part of Hawkins Ranch land. “If you get lost in these mountains,” Corey murmured, “particularly in the winter, I could see that.”
“Yep.” Nodding, Hunter dipped down and grabbed the hose, taking a minute to change out the attachment. “I’m about to rinse off Fantasma,” he called to Corey’s retreating form. “Can you hold off cleaning the next stall for a sec and pat her down when I’m finished so I can get started on Hit Man?”
“Sure.”
Corey returned and stood in front of Fantasma, talking to the animal in soft tones while Hunter hosed her down, rubbing the horse along the way. After Hunter finished, Corey stepped in and began sluicing off the excess water with a large swatch of absorbent fabric, and Hunter walked Hit Man out of the corral and hooked him into place for his bath. Hunter and Corey worked in silence, as they had done on the other dozen occasions the boss had paired them together.
When they traded off horses again, Corey cleared his throat but then dipped his head. It took another few minutes, but he finally said, “You’re the only one who doesn’t look twice or even stare, and who doesn’t look like he wants to ask me to take off my clothes and prove what’s real or fake, you know?”
“It’s not my business,” Hunter replied.
Hunter didn’t have to ask for clarification. Corey lived as a man but had clearly been born female. From his smooth skin, slender shoulders, tenor in his voice, and slightly flared hips, Hunter guessed the boy was not only pre-op but also had not begun a testosterone regimen. He must tuck a sock or dildo, or perhaps wore some manner of strap-on, to give himself an appropriate male bulge. A slight barreling feel to his chest indicated Corey bound his breasts every day too. Hunter had absorbed all this information on his first meeting with the young man, but the nineteen-year-old, who’d only worked on Hawkins Ranch for a month longer than Hunter, had proven himself so knowledgeable about the land, stock, and Hawkins empire itself Hunter had focused on little else since.
Corey began to rub down Hit Man and bring his coat to a glossy black shine. “I guess with your military service in the wars, people probably ask you tons of questions you probably don’t think it’s their business to know either. You understand.” His voice dropped to almost a whisper, but Hunter heard him. “I appreciate it. I just wanted to say that.”
“I let people tell me what they want to tell me in their own time,” Hunter replied.
Except you didn’t behave that way with Alex. Hunter stopped short on his own hypocrisy. During their conversation in the parking lot, he’d invaded Alex’s privacy and space more than once. Don’t forget you took more than an eyeful of his nakedness from through his trailer window too. Not only had Hunter looked, but his interest had grown from there. They’d already shared one dinner at Sarah’s house -- even if Hunter had ducked out early when the craving to cut himself had slammed through him. They had another dinner at Sarah’s scheduled in a few days. Hunter wanted to see more, to touch, to fuck, to lay with the man for God’s sake, to ask questions, and to have Alex answer them freely. All without having to give anything up on my end.
Hunter suddenly envisioned scenario after scenario of Alex blocking him into a corner and relentlessly asking him question after question and not releasing Hunter until Hunter had sliced himself open and let Alex see all the ugliness inside. Hunter’s heartbeat accelerated, and the new sweat pouring down his spine had nothing to do with the afternoon heat.
Be cool, Tenny. Be cool. Everything started to spin around Hunter much too fast, dizzying him. Remember what you read on the Internet. Use your logic. Hunter rubbed at his knife through his jeans, and with each touch could picture the blade digging into his flesh and producing clean lines of crimson. No. Talk yourself down from the destruction. Don’t let it beat you. He rubbed his jeans so hard the fabric burned his fingertips. At the same time, he zoned his focus in on the horse in front of him, watched her steady breathing, and found himself synchronizing his breaths with hers. After wha
t felt like forever but in reality probably consisted of a few minutes, the tension drained from Hunter’s frame. Everything that had gone into hyperspeed inside him started returning to normal. See? You can do this, Tenny. You have enough willpower to overcome.
Right then a hand curled over Hunter’s shoulder, and the surprise contact slammed Hunter right back into a uniform overseas. Hunter grabbed the wrist attached to that hand, bent the entire arm back as he spun, and then jammed the person into the corral fencing. As he jabbed his forearm under his assailant’s neck, the perpetrator cuffed his hand around Hunter’s throat, holding Hunter prisoner too. Hunter started to press with his forearm, automatically strangling the enemy, but suddenly blinked and saw reality instead of living in a flashback. The blur of adrenaline faded, and Hunter realized he had hold of an enormous man with strands of silver in his dark hair.
“I said your name, Hunter,” Connor Hawkins -- Hunter’s fucking boss -- said, “but you didn’t hear me.” The hard line of Connor’s mouth and the glint in his nearly black stare softened, even though he still held Hunter by the neck. “How about we both release at the same time? Sound fair?”
Hunter immediately lifted his arms, felt Connor release him too, and Hunter backed away. “I apologize, sir.” Hunter scanned the area and found Corey stopped dead center in the barn door, concern clear in his blue gaze. He had Hit Man’s lead in hand, obviously on his way to putting the freshly cleaned horse back in his stall.
Swallowing, trying to dissipate the tightness in his throat, Hunter came back to Conner and locked his hands behind his back in a military stance. “It is no excuse for attacking you, but I didn’t hear you approach.”
“It’s all right,” Connor replied, knowledge in his eyes. “And Connor is fine. Or even Mr. Hawkins, if you feel the need for some formality.”
Hunter dipped his head. “Of course, Mr. Hawkins.”
“Can I talk to you before you get started on Gypsy’s bath?”
“Of course.”
This time Connor lifted his arm behind Hunter to guide him toward the barn rather than touch him. As they passed Corey closing the bolt on Hit Man’s stall, Connor came to a stop. “Good to see you, Corey.” He shook the young man’s hand. “Hank told me you’d talked to him about working on a buffalo ranch and that you had some interesting ideas for our new herd.”
Twin blooms of pink dusted Corey’s skin. “You run a top-notch organization, Mr. Hawkins, but yes, I did share some thoughts with Mr. Bailey.”
Hunter noticed the boss bite back a smile. “Let me get with my brothers first, and we’ll schedule a meeting with you to talk. Okay?”
“Thank you, Mr. Hawkins!” Corey grabbed the giant man’s hand and pumped it with vigor. “I mean” -- he stepped back just as fast and locked his hands in front of him -- “thank you. I appreciate it.”
Connor cuffed the kid on the shoulder. “Never be too shy to speak up with a thought if you really believe in it. Plus, I’ll share a little secret.” The man put his hand next to his mouth and fake whispered. “If you tell it to Hank, that old coot is gonna blab it to me or my wife or Caleb or Jake anyway.” He mentioned one of his brother’s and the man’s partner.
Corey went even redder. “I’ll remember that.”
“Hunter.” Connor snapped his fingers, moving again already. “Follow me.”
Hunter took big strides to catch up to his boss. “Yes, sir.” Wincing, he glanced at Connor. “I apologize. It’s the years of service drilled into me.”
“If it works for you, I can forgive it.” Connor exited the other end of the massive barn and began a stroll toward the main house. “I wanted to talk to you about your job.”
“Sir?” Hunter’s heart seized, but he just managed to keep walking without stumbling. “Have I done something wrong?”
“Absolutely not,” Connor responded quickly. “You work hard and step up when needed. I expected no less.” When Connor reached the main house, he took to pacing in front of the porch steps. “But I’ve noticed you seem to enjoy your days more when I assign you to a task that involves the horses.” Connor made eye contact, pausing in front of Hunter. “Is that a fair assessment?”
“I do like to spend time around them. Even doing the menial stuff.” Drifting back through the day he’d had so far -- barring the minor freak-out on Connor -- Hunter settled inside like a leaf floating on a pond. “Some people are scared of their size, but I find them to be a calming animal.”
“My brother Cain does too.” Connor homed in on Hunter, and his wide stance made him appear even larger. “I’d like you to consider interviewing with him and Luke about a job on their property with their horse rehabilitation program.”
Holy hell. Hunter had never been to Cain and Luke’s stretch of land, but he’d heard plenty about the couple and their top-flight organization. “Are they looking for someone?” he asked, mentally holding his breath. “I’d rather not be thrust upon them like some charity case.”
Connor chuckled, and the rumble filled the air around them. “They love their horses too much to bring on someone out of charity who isn’t a good fit for their organization. You have to pass the Cain and Luke sniff test first, and trust me” -- he arched a thick brow in a menacing manner -- “it’s even tougher than mine is.”
Hunter let himself exhale internally. “That makes me feel better. If they’re open to considering me, I think I’d like that.”
“Okay then. I’ll give Cain a call and tell him you’ll be over there after you finish your day here. If it doesn’t work out -- and I have no reason to think it won’t -- you’re welcome to keep your job here on the main property with us.”
“Thank you, sir.” Since Hunter knew Conner wouldn’t touch him again without prompting, Hunter held out his hand first. “It was kind of you to think of me.”
“I’m happy to recommend you.” Conner clasped Hunter in a firm shake. “You can actually thank Corey. He mentioned your ease with the horses to Hank, and like I said to him about the buffalo…”
“What is said to Hank gets back to you.”
“Or my wife. Which then usually” -- a twinkle took over Connor’s dark eyes, turning him from intimidating to downright sexy -- “gets back to me.”
When Hunter had first started, he’d had the privilege of working in a group that included Connor’s wife. “Mrs. Hawkins is an incredible woman.”
“And I damn well know it.” The man’s voice ended in a predatory growl.
Shocked as hell, Hunter found himself smiling and suppressing a chuckle. “I think I saw her going around to the back of the house when I took a break about an hour ago.”
“Thank you.” As Conner backed away, he pointed behind him. “I have to go…stuff to do. Bye.”
Hunter’s stomach did a sweet somersault as he watched Connor Hawkins take off at a dead run around the side of his house. The man’s obvious passion and love for his wife, more than a decade into their marriage, remained powerful. Strangely, their strong marriage struck a poignant chord within Hunter rather than the alarm bells and panic seeing Jace, Sarah, and Jasper evoked. Hunter didn’t fear that witnessing an intimate or loving exchange between Connor and Cassie would begin an unraveling inside him that would end with his complete exposure, utter humiliation, and destruction.
Unbidden, thoughts of Alex and their brief moments of intense connection filled Hunter’s mind and warmed his blood. The few periods where the two of them had talked and Hunter hadn’t thought about anything but how much he wanted the man now stirred his libido. He accepted how much he wanted to be in Alex’s presence without too much crazy skittering taking over his heart. Like with Connor just now, Hunter could find ways to be near people. If a nervous situation arose, he could talk himself down just as he’d done today, or excuse himself if the need became too great. Maybe, just maybe, Hunter had regained enough control to step into the world again.
As he walked back through the barn, heading toward saying a great big thank-you to Corey, Hunt
er once again wore a big ol’ stupid smile.
It felt damn good.
* * * *
Hunter worked with his legs and his voice to control the excitable animal under him, never yelling or harshly yanking the reins to dominate and demand the horse bow to his will. When the palomino trusted Hunter’s weight on his back, he would settle and let Hunter put him through the paces. Cain and Luke had shared with Hunter that this horse had just completed a course of gentling and retraining and now needed to learn to accept people other than one of the two of them on his back. Both men had put Hunter through a hands-on, two-hour interview process. Working with this animal was the next task in his audition for the job.
Out of his peripheral vision, Hunter located Cain and Luke just inside the corral, both leaning against the closed gate. Dressed similarly in jeans, T-shirts, and cowboy hats, at this distance the distinction between the two came with Cain’s slightly superior height and thickness to his shoulders and chest. Luke had a more traditional lanky cowboy frame. Hunter knew from seeing them in town that Luke had very dark, almost black hair, while Cain had a medium chestnut shade with strands of gray near the temples that resembled his brother’s. Right now, Cain dipped down and said something to Luke that Hunter couldn’t decipher, and Luke nodded at his business partner and husband.
“Come on, Hercules,” Hunter whispered to the nervous horse. He squeezed his thighs to help stay in the saddle but continued to talk and rub the young horse’s neck. “You’re the best. Once you get your gold star, you’re gonna be a legend in that new stable and bring joy to so many people who never thought they’d be able to ride.” Hunter tugged gently on the reins and attempted to bring the horse into a circling cantor. “You just have to take this next step and start making your future.”
The horse whinnied and -- thank you, Hercules, I love you -- began to trot around the enclosure. Hunter allowed the horse to pick up speed and show his moxie. After giving him a good half-dozen laps around the corral, Hunter slowed Hercules down to a trot and finally brought him to a halt. Having done what Cain and Luke asked of him in this round, Hunter slid off the horse and walked him to the pair.