Keeping a Cowboy [Recovery 2] (Siren Publishing Classic ManLove)

by Sunny Day

  “I missed you,” he said, rubbing his nose against Ash’s hip. Ash’s hand caressed his neck and shoulder. “You scared me.” His hand stopped moving. His voice was soft.

  “I love you, you know.”

  “Love you, too,” Leslie answered sleepily. What they had wasn’t ideal. It wasn’t perfect, nor was it ever going to be. He wouldn’t have traded it for anything. Ash was always everything he wanted. He reached clumsily with his hand to thread his fingers through Ash’s. He squeezed them encouragingly. The last thing he was aware of, before dropping into sleep, was the feel of Ash’s lips on his cheek.

  It was late when Leslie woke up, the sunlight streaming merrily through long windows. Leslie pulled the pillow over his head. Reaching for Ash, his hand came up empty. He squinted at the alarm clock. Ash was long gone. With a grunt, Leslie rolled out of bed.

  Dressed and showered, he went to the kitchen to find that Ash had left coffee for him. Picking the mug up, Leslie decided to get out and enjoy a little in the sun and fresh air. He headed toward the bunkhouse, still holding the mug.

  The truck had already left. Brian was just leaving the bunkhouse. Leslie vaguely remembered all three of his hands waiting to greet him when he came home last night.

  “Hey, boss.” Brian cocked his head. “I see you are up and about.”

  “Better late than never. I guess I was pretty out of it last night,” he added by the way of apology.

  Brian snorted. “Truthfully, I wondered whether Foster was going to need help hauling you into the house. You were almost asleep on your feet.”

  “Right. Calvin and Jared are already gone, I see.”

  “That’s right. I had something to take care of at the barn. We are going to the south field, as soon as my ride arrives. Calvin wants us to check things here.”

  Leslie almost didn’t catch it. “Who’s ‘us’?”

  Brian looked sheepish. He cleared his throat uneasily. “Well, uh, they.”

  Leslie followed his gaze to the black truck coming their way. His eyes narrowed. He waited until the truck stopped, three men spilling out of it and nodding their greetings to him. Leslie recognized Beck Coltrane, Asher’s foreman. He’d worked for Fourteen F for at least a decade.

  “Beck!” Brian said cheerfully. “I was just telling boss you were coming to help.”

  Beck looked a little apprehensive. “Ah, that. Foster sent us over to help until you’re recovered.”

  Leslie didn’t need to ask which Foster that was.

  “He did, did he?” He took a gulp of coffee, contemplating the men in front of him. “What am I supposed to do with you?” he asked no one in particular. Just how long was this going on?

  “Ash sent them with a list of things they’re supposed to do,” Brian commented helpfully. “I think Calvin has it.”

  “A list?”

  “Um, yeah. You can take mine.” Beck stepped closer to hand him a piece of paper. Leslie stared blankly at words written in Ash’s neat handwriting.

  Ash, you are a damn control freak. You’re under the impression that I don’t know what I’m doing? I have a competent foreman at that, and you sent a list of chores?

  With some difficulty, Leslie swallowed angry words. Beck was eyeing him warily. He took a deep breath before opening his mouth.

  “Thanks, Beck.” He folded it carefully and returned it to Beck. “Carry on then.”

  His voice was strained. He started back toward the house. The damn list was alphabetized.

  His leg hurt. Leslie settled back on the couch, stretching it cautiously. He refused to go to bed, but shit, that hurt. He winced as the door banged loudly and twisted his head to look at the intruder. Asher pulled off his hat, dropping it on the coffee table carelessly. His fingers drummed against his hip as he came to stand in front of Leslie.

  “You are home early,” Leslie said. Ash’s eyes gleamed. He looked excited. His shirt was unbuttoned, an unusual occurrence for him, giving Leslie an enticing glimpse of his neck.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked.

  “Not so good.”

  Ash wasn’t listening to him. “Can you come outside for a moment? I have something to show you.”

  Leslie stared at him. “Now?”

  Ash nodded. Leslie narrowed his eyes at him. He sat up reluctantly. “What is it?”

  Ash shook his head. “I have to show you.” He was already going toward the door. With a sigh, Leslie followed him. His leg protested, but he ground his teeth and limped after Ash. By the time they reached the bunkhouse, he was sweaty and out of breath. The trek had never been so long, he admitted ruefully, rubbing his thigh surreptitiously. Ash didn’t seem to notice. All his attention was aimed at the tan truck parked in front of the bunkhouse. Leslie blinked at it. He didn’t recognize it. Ash went to it and leaned in, crossing his legs. Leslie’s gaze paused at the hip cocked against the car door then followed long legs encased in jeans and cowboy boots. Despite the pain in his leg, he felt a flicker of desire. His jeans suddenly felt constrictive.

  “What’s that?” he asked in an attempt to distract himself.

  Ash’s eyes gleamed. “How do you like it?”

  Leslie gave the car another long look. He circled it slowly, all the while aware of Ash’s eyes on him. “It’s not really you,” he finally settled on. He wasn’t sure what Ash wanted of him. It wasn’t a trademark black truck for Fourteen F. Leslie couldn’t help giving the car a suspicious look. He opened the door to inspect the inside. It wasn’t as equipped as the ones Fourteen F used. It was a sturdy vehicle, but without frills. Leslie frowned, wondering what was on Ash’s mind. Ash nudged him forward. “Come on,” he said. “Hop in.”

  A prickle of unease traveled down Leslie’s spine. “I don’t think so.”

  “Come on, Leslie, just get in.” This time there was a hint of impatience in Ash’s voice. It was an unfortunate coincidence Leslie had opened the driver’s side door. He swallowed before getting inside. He put his hands on the steering wheel, resting against the seat gingerly. For a moment, he swore he saw the ground lunge at him as the truck lurched precariously, Leslie fighting desperately to keep it on the road. He tensed, expelling a long breath, memory prickling his skin. There was a sound of metal screaming in the background. Leslie blinked, staring ahead and focusing at the bunkhouse. He shook the memory off, unwilling to inspect it.

  He jerked as Ash climbed into the seat next to him, slamming the door closed. “Well?”

  “What do you want me to say, Ash?”

  Ash sighed, throwing the keys on the dashboard. “Don’t be dense, Leslie. The car isn’t for me. I bought it for you.”

  That got Leslie’s attention. “You what?”

  “I said, I bought it for you,” Ash repeated.

  Leslie just stared at him. He was always aware Ash had a lot more money than him. His family was rich. However, Ash usually had more sense than to hand out such an expensive gift. Or maybe not, Leslie thought uneasily, glancing at his wristwatch. Ash had given it to him for his twenty-sixth birthday. It hadn’t occurred to Leslie to ask how expensive it was. He liked it, because it was practically indestructible, resisting everything Leslie put it to. He almost never took it off. It was only when he took it to the store to replace a battery that he got an inkling of just how much Ash spent on it. The shopgirl was suitably awed, but by that time, it was impossible for him to take the matter up with Ash.

  “You bought me a car.”

  “You needed one.”

  “Yes, but—”

  Ash’s eyes slid away from his.

  “Okay,” Leslie said. He pried his hands from the wheel. “Thanks.”

  Ash grabbed his arm. “Leslie?”

  “I don’t want to do this…now.” He was starting to hyperventilate. Ash eyed him perceptively. His grip loosened somewhat.

  “It’s okay. Let’s try it.”

  “I don’t want to.” Leslie was rapidly losing his calm. He was grateful no one was going to see them.

&n
bsp; “Leslie, are you afraid?”

  “Dammit yes, I’m afraid! The last time I got into a car I ended up in the hospital and I don’t even remember how!”

  Leslie realized he was yelling. He sagged against the wheel, fine tremors racking his body. Ash put a hand onto his back, rubbed comfortingly. “Sorry,” Leslie mumbled, forcing himself to look at Ash. “I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”

  Ash nodded, his arm still slung over Leslie’s shoulders. “It’s okay. Let’s take it out for a spin.”

  Taking a deep breath, Leslie did so. Ash was talking softly to him the entire time and he gradually relaxed. Leslie steered the truck over Midnight Stars. His panic had eased somewhat, but he still breathed out in relief when he stopped the truck.

  “Better?” Ash asked.

  Closing his eyes, Leslie was too exhausted to nod. “Think so.”

  His eyes popped open when Ash’s palm pressed against his knee.

  “Ash?”

  Without answer, Ash moved his hand up, until it was pressing between his legs, and his cock, which was starting to wake up.

  “Ash? What are you doing?”

  Asher lunged, practically climbing into his lap. Leslie yelped when Ash pressed a tiny lever and his seat sank back and down, allowing Ash to straddle him. Ash’s hungry mouth found his, Ash pushing his shirt out of the way, fingers scrambling over warm skin. Leslie bucked his hips, his body moving of his own volition. With faint annoyance, he realized that position wasn’t giving him enough friction. He let out an impatient little sound and grabbed Ash’s ass with both hands. He licked his way in another dizzying, passionate kiss. He wasn’t sure how they’d ended in the backseat, their clothes strewn across the floor, their bodies writhing atop each other. Ash bit into his shoulder, opening his legs to let Leslie settle in between. He had one hand buried in Leslie’s hair and he was shifting impatiently under him, letting Leslie’s cock rub against his flat belly. Leslie raised his head to look at him. Ash’s lips were swollen from kisses and his eyes were heavy-lidded.

  “The lube should be in my jeans,” he said, bucking under Leslie like a restless colt. His cock left a wet trail on Leslie’s skin. Leslie’s nostrils flared. He pulled back and grabbed Ash’s dark blue jeans, ripping the small package once he had it in his hands. He pushed two fingers into Ash, his pulse quickening when Ash gasped and his eyelashes fluttered. Pleasure streaked across his face. “Yes, exactly like that,” he said, pushing back onto Leslie’s fingers. Leslie gritted his teeth to keep himself calm, working to stretch his lover. He sighed with abject relief once he pushed inside the tight opening.

  Ash’s body welcomed him, tightening around him. Ash threw his head back, licking his lips.

  His palm was sweaty and kept slipping against the cool leather of the seat. Ash panted and undulated against him, his eyes dark from passion. Finally, Leslie ground his hips against Ash’s as he came, spilling into Ash in one long, shuddering wave. A heartbeat later, he felt Asher stiffen under him. Tired and spent, Leslie let himself rest above him. He groaned as his leg complained once again and, with a huff, extricated himself. “You know we haven’t done it in the backseat since we were horny nineteen-year-olds.” Leslie gathered his clothes and started to dress. Next to him, Ash did the same. “Then we shouldn’t miss the experience, should we?” he tossed at Leslie. Leslie shook his head.

  “Anyone could have seen us. I can’t believe we did it.”

  Ash, jeans on and shirt in his hand, leaned in to kiss his naked shoulder. “We are on Midnight Stars, Leslie. If anyone came this way, he would be trespassing.”

  Leslie snorted. “Thought it ahead, have you?” he said as he returned once again to the driver’s seat. Ash gave him a cool glance.

  “Look at it this way,” he said. “You aren’t afraid of the truck anymore.”

  Leslie was ensconced comfortably on the long couch in his living room. There was a pitcher with water on his coffee table and the TV was droning comfortably in the background. Leslie yawned and stretched his leg, wincing a little as the muscles in his injured leg moved. He settled deeper into the pillows. He eyed the papers stacked neatly on the table. He’d brought some of the ranch paperwork to work on while he was housebound. He wasn’t used to long stretches of inactivity. Still he found out that his attention wandered and he tired easily. He couldn’t focus. He must have dozed off since the sound of the doorbell startled him. His heart pounding in his chest, Leslie struggled to sit. “It’s open!” he yelled. He wondered who it was. Both Calvin and Ash had the key, but Calvin would knock before coming in.

  “Hello, Leslie,” the sheriff said, closing the door after himself. He took his hat off and glanced around curiously. “You know, I always forget that there is no driveway to your house. It took me some time to orient myself.”

  “I don’t have a lot of guests,” Leslie said.

  “I don’t imagine you do,” the sheriff agreed. He waved when Leslie started to stand up. “No, that’s all right, sit back.”

  Leslie waited while the man settled into a big armchair opposite Leslie. He was a big man, over six feet four, muscles bulging under his uniform. He had dark hair and green eyes that were now staring at Leslie. Leslie tried to remember what he knew about the man. Grant was about his age. He’d been a deputy for a decade, before taking a sheriff’s job. He and Leslie weren’t close friends, but the sheriff was always polite to him when they met in town. He’d dropped by to see Leslie when he bought the Midnight Stars. He was still a deputy back then.

  “How are you feeling?”

  Leslie shrugged. He had a feeling the sheriff wasn’t here to talk about his health. “Better.”

  “Your memory get back?” Green eyes gleamed. The question drew Leslie up short.

  “No. Why?”

  “Oh well, I gather that was expected. Still, I hoped you’d be able to tell me something.”

  “About what?” This didn’t make any sense.

  Grant leaned back in the chair and studied him.

  “Foster around?” he asked abruptly.

  “Ash? No, why?”

  The sheriff gave a negligent shrug. “Just curious. As I understand, he is often here.”

  What was that supposed to mean? Leslie tensed. Grant must have noticed it, since he gave a short bark of a laugh. “Relax, Kilmer. I don’t care who you’re sleeping with.”

  Leslie reeled back. The sheriff obviously wasn’t going to pull his punches.

  “That’s…good to know.”

  He caught the man smirking at him. “You two being together is sort of an open secret in the town.”

  He’d guessed to. Still hearing it said brought mixed feelings inside him.

  “That’s not why you’re here,” he guessed, watching the other man carefully. Grant pursed his lips.

  “No,” he admitted, leaning back in his seat.

  “Why then?”

  “Your accident.”

  Grant had thrown him for a loop once again.

  “My accident?”

  The sheriff nodded, still looking relaxed. Leslie wasn’t fooled.

  “What about it? It was an accident,” Leslie asked sharply.

  “But you don’t remember.”

  “No. What else could it be?”

  “It could be an accident,” the sheriff admitted. “The thing is, you’re a very careful driver, Kilmer. I checked. You don’t have even a ticket for speeding.”

  “I still could have had an accident,” Leslie pointed out. Truthfully, the fact that he didn’t remember bothered him. He was annoyed with Grant for bringing it up when he’d done his best to keep it in the back of his mind.

  “Could’ve,” sheriff agreed. “Most likely, you haven’t.”

  He seemed serious. “What makes you say that?” Leslie shifted uneasily.

  “One of my deputies is new. Very new, and very earnest. He checked the tire marks. At first I thought he was just bored, wanted to make it more exciting. But I took a look at his report, went to t
he scene myself. It certainly looks like someone ran you off the road.”

  Leslie was paralyzed with shock. “You sure about that?” His voice sounded hollow to his own ears.

  “We don’t have any witnesses, and you don’t remember,” the sheriff pointed. But he had been sure enough to come and talk to Leslie. A chill went through his bones.

  “You think someone tried to kill me. But why? I don’t have any enemies.”

  “You sure about that?”

  “Of course I’m sure.”

  Grant raised his eyebrows. He stared studiously at Leslie. “You sleep with Asher Foster. You can’t tell me his family is thrilled about that.” Leslie narrowed his eyes at him as pieces of the puzzle fell into place.

  “So that’s why you wanted to avoid Asher. But no, they wouldn’t have tried to kill me. Try to pay me off is more their style.” Grant chuckled.

  “Ah, but say they tried and didn’t succeed?”

  Startled, Leslie could only stare at him. He’d never told anyone about that meeting, not even Asher.

  “How do you know about that?” he asked in a suspicious tone.

  The sheriff didn’t blink.

  “Never mind. The answer is, I don’t know,” Leslie admitted. “But they haven’t done anything so far.”

  “I’m not saying they did it,” the sheriff admitted. “I’m just saying, they do have a motive. You need to think about that.” He stood up, putting his hat on his head. “I’ll see myself off. Call me if you remember something.”

  With that parting shot, he left, leaving Leslie to his thoughts.

  Chapter 4

  Leslie couldn’t wait to get out of the truck. The gravel crunched under the tires as Brian parked it in front of the bunkhouse. Leslie had pushed the door open before the engine had the chance to die away. He took a deep breath of fresh air. After hours of being cooped in the truck, he needed it. He rolled his shoulders, wincing as his leg protested. He’d overestimated his endurance.