He stopped Lady, looping the reins over the saddle horn in order to check on what the two young men were doing. He walked up to see they were shoring up the fence, and he didn't see where they needed any guidance. They'd been doing the work for a few years, so Mickey didn't comment on the quality of the job they were doing. "Who's the girl?" he asked.
Stevie looked up with a smile. "She's pretty, ain't she? Remember Nando from the Circle C? It's his baby sister. I'm datin' her, and she asked to come along. You ain't gonna tell, right? She's just watchin' me work."
Mickey chuckled. "I'd never cockblock ya, but is she of legal age? Don'tcha think she's bored outta her skull?" he asked the boy.
Carl laughed. "He likes underage pussy. I keep tellin' him he's gonna get his ass tossed in jail, but he don't listen to me. Maybe you can enlighten the idiot, Mick. She's prime, all right, but Nando ain't one to fuck with. Stevie knocks up that girl? Nando and his buddies will cut off his nuts. Maybe it’ll sink in if you explain it to him?"
Mickey chuckled. "Stevie, he's right, man. The Latin community is very tight knit, and if you get that girl pregnant, there will be about ten guys come at ya to do right by her and marry her. If you don't…. Well, I sure as fuck wouldn't chance it," Mickey offered with a chuckle.
The teen laughed. "Oh? How about that shit you pulled on Henry Sachs? You wantin' to breed him, faggot?"
Mickey had no idea Henry would tell anyone about what went down between the two of them that evening in the barn, but now, he was presented with the accusation and he knew he needed to say something. The slur didn’t bother him because it was just a word, but the idea someone at the farm was stirring the pot had him worried. "You got a problem with me bein' a queer?" Mickey asked as he squared his shoulders, readying himself for a fight if it was coming.
Carl stepped between them and looked at Stevie. "You're so fuckin' stupid. Tim's gay. Matt's gay. You've known that since we started workin' here, and you said you didn't give a shit. This is a good job, dumbass. You gonna start shit now?"
Stevie bristled at Carl’s comment. "That's before he kissed Henry. That kid's sixteen, and he don't know shit about fags. You're fuckin' with his head, Mickey. His momma ain't gettin' surgery. She's makin' Hank take him to West Virginia to his uncle's house to get away from ya. The boy thinks he's in love," Stevie enlightened him.
Mickey's blood ran cold. He knew it was a huge mistake to kiss the young man when he did it, and he still felt fucking guilty for it. He thought after the short discussion they’d had when Mickey apologized and told Henry he wanted to be his friend, things were okay between them. He’d feared Henry might fall for him because the kid seemed to watch every move Mickey made when they were together, but he’d hoped by telling the younger man to try things with someone his own age, it was over.
Mickey had the distinct feeling he needed to talk to someone about the mistake he'd made before the cops showed up to cart his queer ass off to jail where he'd likely never be heard from again.
Without another word to Stevie or Carl, he hoisted himself onto Lady’s back, turning her toward the barn. He had a lot of thinking to do. He needed to figure out how the fuck to stay out of jail for statutory something or other, and how to dodge the bullet carved with his name he was sure Hank Sachs, Henry’s dad, had loaded into a pistol. God knew Mickey would never be accused of being the smartest guy on earth because he'd dropped out of high school, but he had enough common sense to know he was in a lot of trouble.
The only person he thought he could talk to about his predicament was Tim, but he didn't want to bother his friend with petty problems…which had had the potential to blow up into monstrous disasters. Mickey certainly didn't want Miss Katie and Josh to get into a squabble with the Sachs' family for his stupidly ridiculous behavior, so he had to do something proactive.
As he cleaned up Lady to put her away for the day, he knew he had no choice but to talk to his best friend about the situation. Tim was a smart guy. He'd know what Mickey should do.
Later that afternoon, Mickey took a ride over to the Circle C. As he drove up the driveway, he saw Ryan on the field with Matt, both on horseback and appearing to be chatting away without concern for anything else around them. The horse Matt was riding was quite a majestic animal as Mickey had seen at Christmas when he’d delivered the stallion as Tim’s surprise to Matt. Mickey hoped to ask the bull rider if he might take a spin on the big animal someday. The horse had a hell of a gait Mickey admired.
The tall cowboy walked up on the porch and rang the front doorbell. When it opened, he smiled at his buddy, Tim. "Hey, Mick, come on in. I was just in the office doing a little work. You want a beer?" Tim asked him.
The blonde turned to walk down the hallway of the ranch house, leading Mickey into the kitchen. Matt and Tim had been renovating the place since February, and things were really shaping up. The first floor was finished for all intents, and the contractor was in the process of finishing the basement to make a few extra bedrooms, a large bathroom, and a family game room for Ryan to use as he grew into his teen years. Tim had shown Mickey the plans one night after they'd been working Matt’s cattle all day, and from what Mickey could remember, the basement was going to be pretty cool.
"I don't wanna keep you from doin' your work, but if you could take a break, I'd like to talk to ya about a problem I got. I'll only take a few minutes of your time," the cowboy pledged, hopefully.
When Tim laughed, Mickey looked up, grateful to see the big grin on his friend's face. "I'm not doing anything important. I was just fucking around with DB regarding one of his cases. His old hacker isn't as good as me, apparently, and I'm able to get in and out without leaving a footprint. I just got him an address he needed, and he's trying to talk me into joining his gaming group. I’d like to, but I don't really have that kind of time with Ryan and Matt around. So, what's on your mind?" Tim asked.
Mickey remembered the hulking wall-of-a-man, DB Jeffers, who'd helped locate Ryan when Bertie, Matt's ex-wife, and her mother had taken the boy the previous Christmas. He didn't know the man well, but he knew Tim and Matt felt as if they owed him everything for bringing their son home.
Mickey took a gulp from the beer Tim had put in front of him, trying to gather his courage, even if it was Dutch. Tim knew Mickey was gay so that wasn't the issue, but he needed to address the situation regarding the underage Henry Sachs because Mickey was pretty sure when Hank got back to the farm from his vacation or whatever it was, he was going to beat the living shit out of Mickey without much hesitation.
"I did the dumbest damn thing in the whole world," Mickey began as he exhaled a huge breath while peeling the label from the beer bottle in his hands. He explained the situation to Tim with regard to his idiocy concerning Henry and the kiss, seeing his friend listening intently. When he finished, he waited for Tim to say anything. He prayed it wasn't a condemnation, but if it was he'd take it like a man.
Tim finished his beer and rose to grab two more for them before he went to the cabinet, retrieving a bowl and a bag of pretzels then returning to the table. He opened the bag and poured some into the bowl, taking a seat across from Mickey.
"So, you fucked up? You apologized to Henry, and you explained yourself. It sounds like you did the right thing," Tim explained.
"Yeah, well, apparently, Henry went home and told his parents he's in love with me or some shit and they're shippin' him off to West Virginia, though I’m not sure why. Hank told Josh Miss Patsy was havin' foot surgery, but I found out they took him to his uncle's place. I'm so fuckin' worried about when Hank comes back because he might shoot me, Tim, so I'm thinkin' about leavin' town," he confessed.
He saw the surprise on his friend's face before it softened, offering Mickey an understanding smile. "No, you’re not. We'll work things out, Mick, don’t you worry.
“I'm not exactly fond of Paulie who works here, so maybe we change you out for him? Danny doesn't like caring for the horses, and Paulie's not as attentive as I'd like
him to be. I'll talk to Uncle Josh, so stop worrying about it. Ryan thinks you're the coolest guy in the world…aside from me and his dad, of course…so he'll be very happy to have his buddy living here.
"You wanna stay for dinner?" Tim asked. Mickey nodded, still a little stunned at the prospect of working at the Circle C. He hoped Matt was on board with the idea when the proposition was put forth to him. Mickey really didn’t want to leave Holloway.
Chapter Two
"You have got to be fucking kidding me with this shit," Jon snapped at his latest boy-toy…well, clearly soon to be former boy-toy, based on the way the guy was tearing through Jon's condo packing up his shit to leave. ‘Thank you, Jesus,’ Jon thought, relief flooding his system.
"You fucked her, Jonathan," Blake accused. His eyes were like lasers as they took aim at Jon. It was hard to keep from smiling, but he managed to do so for fear of the guy totally losing his shit and perhaps begin throwing John’s expensive home furnishings against the walls.
The entire scene had been an unanticipated, huge misunderstanding, but it was turning into the 'out' Jon had been seeking with regard to the end of his relationship with a guy who was too young and too damn possessive. Blake George had been a lot of fun when they began spending time together a few months prior, but he became progressively more jealous and controlling over the time they'd been seeing each other.
Jon was truly done with the relationship, but his desire to avoid conflict had made him lax, so he didn’t push things with Blake to the point of calling it off. The events of earlier in the evening had been embarrassing, to say the least, but they were about to give him the freedom he greatly sought.
"Audrey, I can’t understand why you're thinking about leaving the firm," Jon Wells quizzed his best friend, Audrey Langley, as the two sat at an Italian restaurant down the street from their office.
Audrey's father, Sherman Langley, and Jon's father, Hamilton Wells, were the founding partners of Langley & Wells, the firm where both, Jon and Audrey, worked. There were offices in Richmond, Alexandria, and Fairfax, and there were about fifty attorneys in the firm at Jon’s last count. They were a premier firm in Virginia, and they'd been around for about twenty-five years. Jon had followed in Ham's footsteps, just as Audrey had followed in Sherm's. Jon and Audrey had known each other all their lives, and they were dear, dear friends, but that was where it stopped.
"It's fucking smothering me, Jon. Surely you feel the same suffocating weight from the pressure to get married, don't you? Hell, they all think we're dating, and we both know we wouldn't touch each other with ten-foot poles. Lyla is about ready to leave me if I don't tell my parents I'm a lesbian, and hell, you go through men like a hot knife through butter. When are you going to man-up and tell your parents the truth about your life-long love affair with the dick?" she asked as she put her hands over Jon's hands resting on the table. He gripped hers and smiled just as he heard the exaggerated gasp and its accompanying hiss.
"YOU MOTHER FUCKING CHEATING BASTARD!" He turned to see Blake standing at the end of the table with one of his hags in tow, sporting the requisite scowl of derision. Instead of allowing Blake and his shadow to embarrass all of them, Jon tossed money on the table, kissed Audrey's hand, and escorted Blake out of the restaurant. The hissy fit which followed on the street as Jon led him to the parking lot was epic, but not really unexpected. He was sure the next morning when he awoke alone, he’d believe the whole scene to be worth it if it meant he ultimately got Blake out of his house and out of his hair.
"At this point, Blake, it doesn't matter if I did or didn't, does it? You've made up your mind about what happened without any hesitation. Maybe it's better this way? We should kiss and say good-bye, once and for all. I'll take the copy of my key you had made," Jon stated as he held out his hand. The key was numbered and the management office had been called when the key was taken to a shop to be copied. Jon was called by the building super and gave his consent, not wanting to cause a fuss at the time, but he was definitely going to get his key back and then have the locks changed.
He looked at the young man he hoped would be gone from his life very soon, and he saw the anger-laced surprise in his eyes. Jon really couldn't suffer fools, and obviously, Blake thought his tantrum would yield the result of Jon begging him not to go. That wasn't going to happen.
Blake was the most recent of a long line of fuck buddies who Jon had kept around beyond their shelf-life. He seemed to always pick guys who got too attached, too quickly. It really plucked Jon's nerves he wasn’t strong enough not to go back for a second bite of the apple, but he ended up succumbing to the whims of his own libido, which was a terribly sad trait in a grown man.
He tried to maintain his distance when it came to intimate encounters, but sometimes they had beautiful eyes, or they could suck his cock down their throats, and that distance would evaporate like so much smoke. There was always something to entice him to stay too long at the party, regardless of how many leaves he turned over in his imaginary dating journal. Blake was a good example of a bad decision Jon should have rectified long ago.
As the younger redhead packed up his things which had quickly accumulated without Jon's permission or notice, Blake was bitching and moaning about every little wrong he felt had been foisted upon him since he and Jon had started fucking.
Meanwhile, Jon poured himself a scotch and took a seat on the leather sofa in the living room. He placed his drink on a coaster resting atop the glass-topped coffee table and bounced around a bit, finding the sofa a little too hard for his taste. He'd had it for a year, and it wasn't any more comfortable than the day it was delivered. He decided to be on the lookout for something new when he had the time going forward. Ridding himself of things in his life which were only ‘okay’ seemed to be a new goal he was looking forward to achieving.
Jon heard the stomping from the hallway and steeled his face before the grown ‘toddler’ reached the room. Blake had a sweater of Jon’s in his hands, and while he didn’t want to have a full-on shouting match over it, he liked far too much and damn well wasn't going to watch the man walk out with it. It was a beautiful, royal blue cashmere he'd received from his mother for his birthday in February, and Blake knew it was his favorite; he wasn’t going anywhere with that sweater if Jon could stop him.
The lawyer rose from his seat on the uncomfortable couch and slowly walked over to the young man who was clearly flooded with anger. Jon eased the garment gently from Blake’s delicate hands and spoke softly. "This one's mine. It was a gift from my mother which I cherish. Take any other one in the closet if you must, Blake, but this one's mine," he stated calmly as he brushed the back of his right hand against the younger man's cheek. A little tenderness could diffuse an attack on his wardrobe with a pair of scissors, as he'd been slow to learn in the past. There was definitely a downside to dating twinks…their hunger for revenge. It was a lesson Jon should have learned long ago, as he thought about it.
The younger man with the sparkling brown eyes smiled a little before a tear slid down his cheek. "Sorry, baby. I honestly don't want us to end on a bad note. It's just…you won't ever commit to a guy, will you? You'll never have a serious relationship with a man, right? Please, tell me it’s not because you don’t find me attractive," the guy beseeched.
Well, he's got that right, Jon thought. He honestly wasn’t looking to hurt Blake, nor was he hoping to remain friends with the man. His only course of action was to play the card he'd used so often when he tried to let someone down the easy way. "No, honey, it has nothing to do with my level of attraction for you.
“I just can't go down the yellow-brick road, looking for the rainbow, Blake. My parents… hell, if they knew I was bisexual, they'd have a cow. My father would probably fire me before they both disowned me. It's just not the way a Wells is supposed to behave. It's nothing against you, but I just can't live without my family," he lied in a voice that sounded nothing like his down-to-earth parents. They weren’t the snobs Jon was making t
hem out to be, but he was pretty sure they’d be disappointed if they found out he preferred dick to chick, so it was for the best.
Jonathan Wells had grown up with privileges and luxuries few of his peers had enjoyed. His father was a successful attorney. Considering he was a black man in the South, it was really a tribute to the man’s tenacity and intellect. He definitely had a way of handling those who retained his services, many Jon would bet were nothing but bigots. Ham Wells’ success rate in a courtroom was one which couldn’t be ignored.
Jon’s father, however, attributed all of his successes as a lawyer to his best friend, Sherman Langley. They'd been friends since law school, and they'd both met the loves of their lives on the same night at a bar in the District of Columbia. Sherman was equally as business savvy, and Ham always claimed the clients wouldn’t come if Sherm didn’t schmooze them.
Marnie Mbutto was a beautiful, ebony-skinned woman of West Indian ancestry, who came to Washington, DC, from Cambridge University as part of an exchange program at American University. She became best friends with Allison Granger, a beautiful WASP born and raised in Concord, New Hampshire, who was also attending American University. Both women were studying public policy at the time, and they were ready to take on the world, which was likely what attracted Ham Wells and Sherm Langley to them in the first place, or so Jon speculated.
Marnie and Allison worked together as waitresses at 'McGriff's Public House' at 13th and Eye in the District, and that's where they met two, first-year associates: Sherman Langley, a white guy originally from Quincy, Illinois. He was five-ten and slightly balding at twenty-five, but he had a self-deprecating sense of humor which seemed to be like catnip to women. Hamilton Wells was an African-American man from Jamaica Queens, New York. He was six-two with a tall, fade-style haircut and a charming personality he too swore wooed the ladies, unfailingly.
Loving the Lawyer (The Cowboys of Katydid Farm Book 2) Page 2