by SJD Peterson
“Probably right after breakfast.”
“I’ll be there,” Eric informed him.
“Cool, I know they’d appreciate it.”
“Well, I didn’t get no home-cooked meal and I’m starved.” Rodney snatched the menu from Jimmy. “I want meatlover’s.”
They ordered two large pizzas and another pitcher. The food and beer went down easily, but the meal wasn’t the only thing that was great. The laughter and easy way all four of them ribbed each other made the evening all the better.
Eric was still acutely aware of Jimmy’s nearness and the way his body reacted to it. But rather than try to suppress it—he couldn’t any damn way—he used Mandy’s constant flirting as an excuse and played it up.
Within an hour and with a good buzz going, Eric was able to convince himself the reason the weird thoughts about Jimmy—desires he thought he’d quashed years go—were resurfacing was because, one, he’d missed the bastard and two, he hadn’t been laid in far, far too long.
Eric leaned across Jimmy and grabbed Mandy’s hand after she set another pitcher on the table. “What time do you get off, darlin’?”
“I’m here till midnight. Why? You wanna take me away from all this?”
“Sure, where you wanna go?”
Eric didn’t miss the way Jimmy stiffened next to him. He assumed it was because Mandy was leaning over and her ample tits were spilling out of her top right in front of Jimmy’s face. But when Jimmy growled “Fuck,” he followed his gaze to the door and spotted Oliver.
“I’ll hit you up later,” Eric told Mandy and released her hand.
“Make sure that you do,” she drawled and sashayed off.
“What the hell is he doing here?” Jimmy grumbled and ran his hand through his hair.
“Maybe he’s just picking up a pizza. Ignore him.”
Unfortunately Oliver spotted them and when he started over, Eric knew it was going to be impossible to do. He shoved the table toward Kirk and Rodney, who protested but he ignored them. “Climb over me.”
“What?” Jimmy asked in confusion.
“Shut up and just do it,” he demanded and yanked Jimmy onto his lap and then shoved him roughly as Eric scooted toward the end of the table and pulled it back into place.
Oliver apparently witnessed the move, because he frowned, but he wasn’t deterred. The dumb fuck kept on coming.
“Ji—”
“Sorry, but this is a private party,” Eric told him and blocked Oliver’s view of Jimmy.
“I wasn’t talking to you,” Oliver sniffed and tried to look around Eric.
“You’re not talking to anyone here. I told you this is a private party and I’d appreciate it if you moved along before I am forced to remove you.” Eric kept his tone cold with just a hint of threat. He was twice the size of Oliver and the man couldn’t be so stupid that he’d actually dare him to prove his threat. Secretly, though, he was hoping Oliver would do just that. He’d like nothing better than to beat the shit out of this little weasel, not only for cheating on Jimmy, but simply for touching him.
Eric had to give the guy credit, he was a brave little dumbass. He didn’t scurry off but tried a new tactic. “Eric, right? I don’t mean to interrupt your party and I promise to only take a moment of his time if you’d please allow me a second to speak with Jimmy,” he said, doing his best to appease Eric. Eric wasn’t falling for it.
“Who the hell is this guy?” Rodney blurted and tipped his glass toward Oliver. “Did you not hear the man? Move along. Are you fucking daft or something?”
“My guess is he’s just rude,” Kirk added, raking his eyes up and down Oliver with a sneer before turning his attention purposely back to Rodney. “What kind of douchebag interrupts a man while he’s having his dinner?”
“He’s like a little gnat. Shoo before I swat ya, shoo,” Rodney warned him.
Eric sat back and slung his arm over Jimmy’s shoulders and stretched out his long legs, the image of giving no fucks. “Good night, Oliver. I’m sure you can show yourself to the door.”
Jimmy snorted and waved daintily. Eric as well as Rodney and Kirk broke into a roar of laughter when Oliver realized he wasn’t going to pull Jimmy from them and spun on his heels and stomped away.
“You guys are harsh,” Jimmy announced happily and raised his mug. “Thank you.”
“That’s what friends are for,” Kirk replied and held up his glass.
“Boo.” Rodney whopped the back of Kirk’s head. “If you ever want a woman, no more Dionne Warwick references.”
“Who the hell is that?”
It was the wrong question for Kirk to ask. Eric, Jimmy, and Rodney broke out into a really bad rendition of the popular eighties song until they fell into another boisterous round of laughter.
WHAT COULD have been another awkward or irritating moment due to Oliver and his constant harassment turned out to be a hell of a good time, but Jimmy had to get up early and he knew the rest of them did too. He downed the last bit of his beer and wiped his mouth before tossing his napkin on the table.
“Well, as much fun as it’s been, it’s time for me to take my ass home.”
“Same here,” Rodney agreed, and Kirk nodded his head.
Eric waved Mandy over. “We’re going to need the check.”
She looked down at her watch with a pout. “It’s only eleven. Aren’t you going to wait on me?” She ran her fingers through the hair on the back of Eric’s neck and Jimmy was surprised at the sharp flare of jealousy that rocked him.
“Sorry, darlin’. I’m going to have to take a raincheck. I have an early morning.”
“Eric Halter, you have an early morning every day,” she reminded him and stomped her foot.
“Oh, right.”
Jimmy couldn’t see Eric’s face, but he knew he was turning on the charm and the dimples because Mandy seemed to melt as she stared at Eric. Jimmy knew exactly the expression that must be on Eric’s face because the reaction it was having on Mandy had been one Jimmy had experienced enough times throughout the years.
Life really could be cruel sometimes. He had been blessed with the most amazing person to call a best friend, and yet it was torture knowing they would be amazing together as much more, but that it could never be.
Jimmy doubted he’d ever find anyone as great as Eric, and he really needed to stop comparing other men to him. Hooking up with a guy because he was the complete opposite from Eric had been a huge mistake, one he was still paying for, and he’d definitely learned his lesson. And why in the hell did he need a man anyway?
He had a great life, one that was going to get really, really busy, so he didn’t even have time for a relationship. He had Eric to hang out with when he did have a day off. He had a hand, and when the itch got really bad, he could always stop at the club in Coopersville for a random hookup. What more could he want or need?
“Earth to Jimmy,” Eric said close to Jimmy’s ear, bringing him out of his musings.
Eric’s warm breath was close to his neck, his large body radiated heat, and Jesus, his scent nearly overwhelmed Jimmy, and he had to shift away and clamp down on the shudder that threatened. Eric was the answer to the question of want or need. Jimmy looked up, surprised to see Kirk and Rodney walking out the door and Eric giving him a questioning look.
“Sorry, zoned out for a minute. Ready?”
He waited for Eric to slide out of the booth and then followed him out the door. Before Eric could rush off to catch up with Rodney and Kirk, Jimmy reminded him of the basket Mom had sent.
“I’ll catch up in a minute.” Eric waved toward the other guys.
Jimmy pulled the bag from the car and handed it to Eric. “Hey, thanks for stepping in and taking care of my little problem tonight.”
“Don’t mention it. You think he got the message?”
“I don’t think so.” Jimmy sighed. He nodded toward the red truck he’d seen Oliver in at the post office.
“Is that him?” Eric asked, his impressive chest blow
ing up as he tensed.
Jimmy grabbed Eric’s arm. “Don’t start anything. He’s desperate. Maybe I should just go talk to him and get it over with.”
“Talk about what? You’ve told him to leave you alone, I’ve told him, what more is there to say. Unless….” Eric pursed his lips.
“What? No, there is no unless.” Jimmy wasn’t sure if it was his imagination, but he could have sworn Eric looked more than a little relieved. For a split second, he read Eric’s reaction as being grateful Jimmy was staying single, which was stupid as fuck. Eric didn’t like Oliver, hadn’t since the first day he’d met him. That was all it meant. Nothing more.
“You want me to follow you home?” Eric offered.
“Aww, my knight in shining armor,” Jimmy teased. How I wish. “I’m pretty sure I can handle myself against Oliver, but thanks for the offer.”
“I don’t know,” Eric said, sounding skeptical. He glanced in Oliver’s direction and then turned his dimpled grin on Jimmy. “Glenn Close wasn’t very big and she boiled a bunny.”
“Well, it’s a damn good thing you haven’t added bunnies to your new menagerie.”
“Hmm, maybe I should.”
He gave Eric a little shove. “How about no. Now go on and get home. I’ll see you in the morning.” He stiffened and pointed a warning finger at Eric. “And you are to go straight to your truck. Is that understood?”
“Fine, but only because I don’t want to miss saying good-bye to your folks ’cause I’m in jail. But I’ll go as soon as you get in your car and get the hell out of here.”
Jimmy cocked his head and met Eric’s gaze suspiciously. “You’re not going to do anything, right?”
“Nope.”
“Promise,” Jimmy prodded.
“I told you I wouldn’t. Now get out of here. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Jimmy hesitated for a moment, but Eric looked like he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. “All right, see you later. But behave.”
“Later.”
Jimmy slid into his car and fired it up. He waved out the window but watched out the rearview mirror. He started to crack up when Eric strolled back to his own truck, stopping halfway there, which happened to be directly in front of Oliver’s truck, and then bent over, appearing to be tying his shoes. The funniest part about it was Jimmy knew Eric was wearing cowboy boots.
Chapter Fifteen
“THIS IS my last weekend off for a while and I’m going to end up sitting home because every-fucking-where I go that bastard shows up,” Jimmy grumbled.
Over the past week, he’d run into Oliver at the post office, pizza place, feed store, Burker’s, pub, driving down the road, even caught the asshole waiting at the end of the road the day before when he’d gone out to get the mail. How long Oliver was going to keep up this ridiculous shit, Jimmy didn’t have a clue. He was sick of it and he was way past annoyed. He was beginning to feel like a prisoner in his own home.
“Nothing wrong with sitting home. Plus, I know how to celebrate you going back to work without running into douchebag.”
“Really? Let me guess: mucking stalls or some other exciting farm game?”
Eric pushed to his feet. “Let’s go.” He held out his hand.
Jimmy cocked his head suspiciously. “Where are we going?”
Eric huffed and grabbed Jimmy’s wrist, yanking him off the couch. “I said let’s go, now move it.” Eric spun him around and shoved him toward the door.
He had no idea what Eric had up his sleeve, and as long as it didn’t include any form of chore, it would be better than sitting on the couch pouting all night or, worse, watching mind-numbing TV.
Eric pushed past him on the stairs and ran to his truck. He opened the passenger door. “Your carriage awaits, sir.”
“My carriage.” Jimmy snorted. “God, my life has really hit rock bottom if this is my carriage.”
Eric tapped his foot impatiently until Jimmy finally slid in. Eric slammed the door and then ran his hand along the frame. “Don’t listen to him, Bulla, he has no taste in girls.”
The thought of what Bulla would be like as a real woman was terrifying. She would be a big woman who was hard to get started and stank to high heaven.
“So you going to tell me where we’re going?” Jimmy prodded once Eric had the truck running and he was peeling out of the drive.
“We’re going to celebrate, that’s all you need to know. You might want to buckle up.”
Jimmy wasn’t a dumb man; Eric’s lead foot was legendary. He slid the belt home just as Eric turned on the dirt road from the drive without taking his foot off the gas. Thank God for sissy bars.
Once Eric straightened the truck out, he grabbed his cell phone from the visor and flipped it open. With an impressive ability to dial without taking his eyes from the road, Eric called someone and put the phone to his ear.
“Hey, you got any plans?” After a brief pause, he added, “Cool. Hogbacks, one hour.”
“Hogbacks? Seriously, dude, you’re taking me fishing as a celebratory party? This is about me, not you. Who was that anyway?”
“You’ll see.”
It was all he got as Eric was busy driving out of town toward Whitmore—the next town over—and calling one person after another. They pulled in to Rory’s party store, slinging gravel, and he slammed on the brakes. “You grab the ice. I’ll be right back.”
Jimmy’s crazy teenage years came rushing back. Damn, how many times had he and Eric driven over here having conned their older friends into buying them beer and chew? He went to the cooler and grabbed a couple of bags of ice and tossed them in the back of the truck with the rest of the rubbish. He leaned against the back wheel well and pulled his cap down far over his eyes. The place was dead, but it would be just his luck that Oliver had followed them, would drive by, or be waiting or something. He was so not in the mood for his shit tonight. Jimmy laughed when he caught sight of Eric coming out of Rory’s.
“Gonna need a lot more ice.”
Eric had a bag of red Solo cups clenched between his front teeth, and in his arms was a silver pony keg just a shinin’ in the afternoon sun.
Eric dropped the cups onto the top of the keg. “I paid for four. Drop the tailgate.”
Jimmy rushed to open it and then snatched the cups as Eric went by. He grabbed a couple more bags of ice and threw them in as well.
“Droppin’ the tailgate and spending the night yelling bottoms up at the old sinkhole. I can’t think of a grander party for a scholar such as yourself,” Eric said haughtily.
“You’re such a fucking redneck. Love it!”
Windows down, radio at the max, he and Eric sang at the top of their lungs as they headed down the back roads. They hadn’t done this in years. It used to be a regular Saturday night event when they were in high school. How many miles had they put on Bulla, smoke blowing out the windows, gravel flying. He’d almost forgotten how great it was chillin’ on the dirt road. Why he’d wished this time away, he wasn’t sure, but he damn well would do good to take his mom’s advice from here on out. Live, love, and laugh in the moment and stop fucking rushing to get somewhere or be someone else.
“Well, it ain’t the Ritz, but it’s all I got,” Eric stated as he waved a hand toward the sand pit.
“There isn’t anywhere I’d rather be. Thanks.”
Eric shrugged. “C’mon, let’s get this keg iced down and tapped before the rest of the beatnecks get here.”
“Who else did you call?” Jimmy asked as he stepped back to the back of the truck.
“Josh, Scott, Kirk, Rodney, Mandy, Charlotte, Roger, pretty much put a shout-out to the crew.”
“Wait, you invited Roger?”
“Yeah, why? Hand me that half barrel, will ya?”
Jimmy climbed up into the bed of the truck and retrieved the battered plastic barrel they’d cut years ago for just such occasions. “I can’t believe you still carry this thing around.”
“Don’t use it too much an
ymore, but it don’t take up much space. Now you wanna hurry up? This thing ain’t light, ya know.”
“Whiner,” Jimmy taunted and set the barrel at Eric’s feet for him to drop the pony keg into. He iced down the keg while Eric got the tap going. “Doesn’t surprise me that you never threw it out. I bet you still got empty cans of Skoal from the first year you started chewin’.”
“I started chewin’ before I got the truck and I’m sure it’s been cleaned since I got it. Maybe,” he said with a sly grin.
Jimmy retrieved the plastic cups and handed one to Eric to fill. It took a while. Eric’s Mario Andretti driving had shaken it up pretty good and the first couple of glasses were pure foam. They finally had at least partial cups and plopped their asses down on the tailgate.
“Cheers,” Jimmy said, raising his glass.
Eric touched his to it and threw back a big swallow.
“I thought Roger had moved to Europe or something.”
“He did. I saw him over at the grocery store the other day. He’s in town for a couple weeks. His grandpa died.”
“That sucks, but I’m not sure it was a good idea to invite him. It could get a bit awkward with Charlotte here.”
“Why’s that? Didn’t they date in high school?”
“Yup, but the night of the rodeo I hung out with her and she was there to meet some cowboy she’d met online. Your job of matchmaker could backfire.”
“Yeah, but then again maybe not. Have you seen Roger?”
“Nope. Not in years.”
“I think you’d be pleasantly surprised. He’s definitely not the geek he once was. Damn good-looking guy.”
“You checking out guys now?” Jimmy asked, cocking his head.
“Yeah, all the fucking time, you bonehead,” Eric grunted. He patted his T-shirt and frowned. “I need a smoke.”
“Those—”
“Ain’t good for me, yeah, I know,” Eric interrupted but retrieved them and a lighter anyway.
“Good thing your best friend’s gonna be a doctor. I can write you a script for your oxygen tank. You can drag it with you when you go play bingo.”