He rolled over and tried to go back to sleep, but then he heard giggling in the hallway. "I GOTTA GO, MICK!" a little voice whisper-shouted.
"SHH! We have a guest, Ryan. Get in here and go. Don't flush it or you'll give me an ice bath," he heard whispered. Jon wondered how much they’d paid the contractor for the remodel of the ranch house because the walls in the basement seemed to be pretty thin, but as he listened to the two of them talking, Jon was glad he could hear clearly.
"You gonna shave today, Mick? Do you shave every day? How long you think before I gotta shave?" he heard the boy ask as he heard the quiet stream enter the toilet before the flush.
'FUUUUCK! I TOLD YOU…" he heard shouted before he heard another giggle.
"You did it on purpose, you little shit," Mickey hissed at the boy. Jon heard the shower turn off and the door open.
"You cold?" he heard Ryan ask with a giggle.
"Git, you ungrateful little whelp. I'm tellin' on ya," Mickey snapped as the boy ran up the stairs, laughing the whole way.
Jon chuckled at the interchange between the two and decided it was time to join the land of the living, regardless of the fact he hadn’t had much sleep. He hopped up from the bed and opened the door to use the facilities, seeing Mickey Warren standing in the hallway wearing just a towel.
The beautiful sight caused Jon’s brain to freeze for just a moment. The man was temptingly hot and sexy, and Jon sucked in a necessary breath to keep from making an ass of himself. The tenting in his boxers wasn’t a surprise. Mickey had a great fucking body…not too bulky, but not flabby at all. There was definition, but he wasn’t bulky, just as Jon liked his men.
"Shit! Did we wake ya up? The boy flushed the…well, you can likely guess. Go ahead and use it, then go back to bed. I need to get up to Marty and Jeri's house to pick up Corky. Matt had the dog fixed, and he’s been up the hill at the grandparents’ place so he didn’t get too worked up because of company.
“The vet called yesterday to say the dog can come home now, and it’s a surprise for Ryan. Shit! I'm sorry for runnin’ my mouth. Go back to bed," Mickey told him as he slipped into his room and shut the door.
Jon walked into the bathroom and took a contemplative breath, wishing to hell he'd been in the shower with the hot cowboy. He could smell his scent in the leftover steam, and it was the scent of a man. It was clean soap and male and filled with pheromones; Jon was nearly staggered by it.
After he finished his morning business, having to wait out the hard-on in order to empty his bladder, Jon heard people upstairs moving around in the kitchen so he decided to stay up. He was going home in the early afternoon, so he could catch a late nap if necessary. He felt it important to learn more about the comings and goings at the Circle C, so he would avail himself of a bit of the routine, sure it would be enlightening.
The lawyer dressed in another pair of jeans and a thin, yellow, cashmere sweater he'd brought along. He skipped the shave, deciding to just wash his face and brush his teeth. He needed a trim on his hair, so he wet it a little and pushed it closer to his head before he felt confident he was presentable. He picked up the boots he'd bought…which would never be the same…and he went upstairs after he made his bed. His mother had taught him how to be a proper houseguest, after all.
As he climbed the stairs, Jon heard music and laughter coming from the kitchen. When he hit the top step, he saw Tim in Matt's arms as the two of them danced around the kitchen with Ryan on the counter, clapping and laughing.
He stayed in the shadows, trying to hear the song. It wasn't one of which Jon was familiar because he didn't listen to country music, but the lyrics, "’No shoes…no shirt…no problems. Blues…what blues?...I've forgot 'em’," sounded vaguely familiar. He believed he'd heard it in a bar somewhere, but as the three of them delighted in the dancing around and singing along, Jon had a feeling he was really missing something special in his life.
When the song ended, Matt picked up Ryan and jostled him a little. "After we get this marriage business sorted out, you and me are gonna plan the honeymoon and make it a surprise for Timmy, whaddya think?"
The boy leaned forward and whispered something, and Matt laughed. "That's definitely a possibility. Set the table. We'll eat and leave plates for Miss Ronni and Mr. Jon."
"Is Mickey comin' back to eat, or are we gonna leave him a plate?" the boy asked. Jon was interested in that bit of information as well, though he hated to admit it.
"He grabbed a coffee and went to the barn. After he's finished feeding, he's gonna go check on Corky. The vet dropped him off yesterday, and Gramma and Papa have been taking care of him. We didn't tell you because he needed to be quiet after his surgery, but he'll be back to normal pretty soon. Josie can come home today, too. Gramma will probably insist on feeding Mickey, so don't worry about him," Tim explained as he worked at the stove.
Jon walked into the kitchen, trying to appear as if he hadn’t heard the earlier exchange. Ryan jumped off the counter, pumping his hand in the air to slap Jon’s once he entered the kitchen. "You keep very early hours around here," Jon stated with a smile.
"I'm sorry, Jon, if we woke you. Mickey seems to sleep like a rock, so we forget about the stomping around we do up here. I hope we didn't wake Ronni. I doubt she's used to getting up this early," Tim stated quietly as he stirred scrambled eggs.
"Not to worry. I get to the gym by six to work out before I go to the office. My work isn't exactly physical like yours, but I'm not a stranger to early mornings or late nights. Tell me what I can do to help," Jon offered.
Tim filled a large thermos with coffee and pulled a pan of muffins from the oven, spilling them into a basket. He turned to Jon and smiled. "If you'd take these down to the barn office and leave them on the desk, I'd appreciate it. I'll have breakfast ready by the time you get back."
Jon nodded and sat down to put on his Cole Hahn boots. "Whoa! Those are far too nice to go sloppin' down to the barn. What size you wear?" Matt asked.
"Twelve," he responded, hearing Tim giggle.
Matt stood from his seat and smiled. "Me too. You can use my other pair of muck boots. It rained overnight. Just tuck your jeans in, and leave 'em on the deck when ya come back. I'll hose 'em off later," he offered, leading Jon out to the back porch where there was a metal tray of boots waiting.
Matt handed him a pair of black, rubber boots and offered a low laugh. "I'm glad you were prepared for that little showdown last night. I was fightin' for ya, man. Tim wasn't sure you could hold your own against Ronni, though he didn’t think she’d be able to handle everything we’re doin’ on her own. She's been managin' his trust for a few years so he thought maybe she'd be best at handlin’ the changes we’re tryin’ to make. I didn’t want to take the work away from ya, so I'm glad we had a good showin'. Sometimes Timmy don't think I know about stuff because I didn't go to college, but I've got a few tricks up my sleeve. Great job," the man told him with a hearty clap on the back.
After Jon pulled on the boots, he grabbed the basket of muffins from the bench on the back porch, he headed down to the barn, feeling a little nervous. He thought Mickey was at that barn, and for reasons he didn't want to think about, he didn't want to embarrass himself.
"I've got it under control, Matt. I'll figure out a way to establish a working relationship with Ms. Turnberry to suit you and Tim. She doesn't scare me," he stated as confidently as possible.
"Good." With that, Matt walked back into the house, leaving him standing on the porch. After a deep breath, Jon Wells walked down toward the barn and after craftily maneuvering the few gates, he opened the barn door, hearing a horse pawing the floor.
That was a sound he was used to hearing. His large gelding, Hercules, was still at the farm in Dillwyn even though he hadn't ridden him in at least a year. He actually missed the horse, and as he thought about it, he'd had a lot of good times at the country house.
His mother had a penchant for hiring hot stable hands, and though he'd only found a few of int
erest who he'd have considered fucking (if not for the fact his mother would have killed him), they were all pretty to watch.
After placing the food and drink in the barn office, he walked down the hallway to check where all the racket was coming. He saw a majestic stallion with a beautiful mane and tail, along with a glorious, black coat, pawing the stall floor.
He snapped his fingers and whistled, getting the stud's attention. "What's wrong?" he asked as the horse swung its head over the stall door, snorting a little. He looked inside to see the grain box was full, along with the hay rack. There was an automatic water fountain in the corner, and as Jon surveyed the surroundings, he was impressed. The barn wasn't as big as the one at his parents' place, but it was quite well appointed.
He rubbed his hand over the horse's nose and forehead, scratching a little. "You're a beauty," he told the stallion as he took in the sight of the great animal. It was a huge horse, and he guessed it must be Matt's because the bull rider was a very large man.
The horse, itself, was a surprise because, in that small barn, Jon hadn’t expected to be greeted by such a striking animal. Watching the horse in his large stall led Jon to believe the stallion had an impressive pedigree, and he could appreciate the majesty of such an animal. His mother owned horses with impressive bloodlines, but Jon hadn’t seen a gaited stallion like the one slinging its head in front of him. The animal was restless, but he was still well-behaved.
“Hey, fella. You’re a beauty. You’d like to be outside, wouldn’t you?” he spoke calmly to the stallion after it snorted at him while he scratched the bridge and forehead of the animal, who seemed to calm a little and move his head in time with Jon’s scratching.
"Ah, you can charm horses as well as cowboys, little boys, and female lawyers?" he heard behind him as Mickey Warren walked into the barn hallway with a dog in his arms.
“Not as well as you, but I have my own way of getting along with animals. Who’s that?” Jon asked as he pointed to the dog in his arms.
"This is Corky. He's our resident farm mutt, but he's Ryan's best friend. He just had done to him what Matt did to those calves yesterday. He's healed up, but I still feel for the poor bastard. I sure wouldn't want anybody doin' to me what they did to him," Mickey told him as he nuzzled the dog. It was so ugly it was cute, and it was then he remembered something from the custody hearing.
"He was the bait, right? That's what Roberta used to keep Ryan content after she picked him up from school," Jon accused, blaming the poor dog for something which was not its fault. Jon wasn’t happy he’d allowed his temper to take over, but he'd disliked Roberta Collins from the very first moment Matt had told him about their marital situation. In the back of Jon’s mind, he wondered if Ryan was really Matt’s son, but looking at the two of them together, he was certain his suspicious nature got the best of him. There was no way Ryan wasn’t the son of the Bull Rider.
Mickey kissed the dog on his head before he gingerly placed the dog on the floor of the barn hallway, holding onto the leash. "From what I heard, yeah. I can't hold it against him, though. He was as unwillin' a party to that shit as Ryan, and the boy still feels bad about goin' with his momma and leaving his daddy behind.
“Matt and Tim have talked to some doctor about sittin' down with Ryan 'cause the boy has nightmares sometimes. The things people do to each other? It’s no wonder people wanna kill each other. It makes me sick to think about it,” Mickey stated quietly.
Jon nodded in solemn agreement. He'd seen his fair share of the damage people could do to each other. It was one of the reasons he didn't believe in marriage. Monogamy was a rare concept and it didn't work with too many species…maybe penguins and swans, from what he remembered from his time in school. Other than that? The rest of the animal kingdom went out and fucked…like animals. It was nature's way, and Jon wasn't about to question his place in the hierarchy. He wasn't one to settle down.
Chapter Seven
Mickey felt a hand on his shoulder, so he turned to see Matt Collins with a big grin on his face. "Damn, he can ride, can’t he? Who'd a thought the city boy knew his way around a big stud?"
They were watching Jon Wells riding Charlie, and the man had a good seat in the saddle. It seemed as if he knew how to make the horse gait better than Matt, and both, Matt and Mickey knew it. Mickey smirked a little and looked at Matt. “Well, it remains to be seen how he is around a stud, I guess, but based on what I’ve seen, I’d say it ain't his first time on a horse," he stated, chuckling at his own joke about Jon knowing his way around a stud.
"How the hell did he end up on the back of Charlie in the first place?" Matt asked. Mickey sensed the protectiveness of the horse in Matt's voice, so he needed to reassure the bull rider Jon had extensive experience around horse flesh. They'd about it talked that morning as they cleaned up around the barn a little and had a cup of coffee.
"My mom has three hunter/jumpers and three dressage horses at their place in Dillwyn. I still have a horse there I ride for pleasure when I go out. He's about ten now, but he gets exercised just as the other horses on the property, so he’s happy and healthy. With my schedule, I don't get out there as much as I’d like. I haven't ridden him in about a year, but I'm sure he's living large," Jon explained.
Mickey laughed. "So, you ain't ridden anything in about a year?" It was laden with innuendo, but Mickey was getting a vibe from the lawyer he wasn't about to ignore.
"Over the last year I haven't been the one doing the riding, Michael," Jon answered with a smirk.
It was all Mickey needed to hear. "Never? I don't mind a ride every now and again, just for the sake of mixin' shit up. Sometimes, you need a good, rough ride to set your mind straight, or so I find."
He saw the man swallow and adjust himself, so Mickey continued, happy to witness the effect his words were having on the handsome man. "You think your man enough to ride Charlie? Now, mind ya, he's a good horse, but he's a go-er. He needs a strong man to handle him. You think your man enough to take a spin?" Mickey taunted.
The lawyer laughed. "I think I can handle just about anything you throw my way, cowboy."
Mickey laughed with him and led Charlie out, saddling him up and hoping he wasn't misjudging the hot lawyer with the bedroom eyes. As he watched the man riding the horse around the upper pasture, he could see Jon Wells wasn't joking. He was a good horseman in his own right. Mickey was impressed.
"His mother rides dressage and show jumpers. He actually grew up around horses, and his folks have a place in Dillwyn. He has a pretty good seat, don't ya think?" Mickey asked Matt.
Matt laughed. "You think he'd have a better seat on you?" The bull rider turned to Mickey and chuckled at his own joke.
"All’s I'll say, Boss, is I'd like a chance to find out, but I sure as hell wouldn't mind ridin' the stallion first," he answered. It was the truth, and he hadn't slept much the night before because he wanted to go across the hall and settle it in his mind once and for all, if Jonathan Wells was gay, straight, or somewhere in between where Mickey might get a chance at him. He'd seen the bulge in those sexy jeans, and it was driving him insane with curiosity.
Oh, he'd respect Tim and Matt's rules with regard to no random fucks under their roof, but it didn't mean he wouldn't fixate on it.
After Jon rode Charlie around the pasture, he rode the horse into the barn and hooked a lead on his halter before he began to unsaddle him. Mickey was in the office, watching the man through the open door, admiring Jon’s sexy body as he worked. Mickey had no idea how to even begin to approach a man like Jon Wells. Never in his life had the cowboy been attracted to anyone as intelligent and refined, and while he was intensely fascinated, he was sure the lawyer was well out of his league. He was definitely intimidated but highly attracted.
The phone rang, and Mickey answered, not thinking about the people in the house who were also able to pick up the line. "Circle C. This is Mickey."
"Hi, Mickey. This is Rocky. Is Mr. Matt there? Somethin's wrong with my
momma, and I don't know what to do. Maybe him or Mr. Tim could come help?" the boy asked. Mickey noted the panicked sound of the boy’s voice, so he didn't hesitate to get more information.
"It's okay, Rocky. Tell me what's wrong with your momma? Is she breathin'?" Mickey asked. He pulled out his cell and sent a text to Tim.
Tim-Rocky’s on the line. Miss Cindy’s sick. Should we go to town? Mick
"Yeah, but it's loud. She was in the kitchen makin' breakfast, and she fell down. She hit her head on somethin’, and there's a lotta blood. I heard the crash, so I got up to see what happened and I found her in the kitchen. I shaked her, but I can't wake her up. Tell me what to do, Mick," the boy whispered, desperation evident in his voice.
Mickey took a deep breath, trying to slow his mind enough to calm the boy in order to ensure he was safe until they could get to him. "Okay, is the stove on? If it is, turn off the burners first. I'm callin' 9-1-1. They'll be there in a hot minute, bud, and we'll be there as quick as possible. Just stay with your momma and hold her hand so she knows you’re okay. I'm gonna hang up, but I'll call ya right back from my cell. Just stay with me, Rock," he told the boy.
They'd entertained Rocky at the ranch many times, and Mickey liked the kid a lot. He was Ryan's best friend, and Matt and Tim had done things for Cindy Whipple she didn't even know about.
Mickey also knew the woman was gravely ill, having been diagnosed with MS which was serious, or so he’d surmised by the look on everyone’s faces when they discussed it, and he knew everyone at the Katydid and the Circle C looked out for her as much as she'd let them. She was a damn proud woman, and her parents were worthless pieces of shit, having abandoned her and Rocky because his father wasn't white. It broke Mickey's heart, but people were generally worthless as shit, as he'd learned over his life.
"Please hurry. I'm a-scared, Mick," the boy whispered as the phone went dead. Mickey quickly dialed the number on his cell as he dialed 9-1-1 on the barn phone. "Hello?" the boy answered.
Loving the Lawyer (The Cowboys of Katydid Farm Book 2) Page 8