Loving the Cowboy

by J. P. Bowie

  “You had me wonderin’ for a while there.”

  Tim slipped his arms around Ryan’s neck. “How could I not love you? You’re everything I need and want in a man.”

  “Those are the best words I’ve heard—”

  “I know…” Tim laughed. “In a coon’s age.”

  “God, I love you.”

  “I know, and I love you back, and always will.”

  Epilogue

  Three months later

  “I was thinking about you not having your own horse when you first came to the Seven Plus,” Tim said, brushing his lips over the shell of Ryan’s ear.

  They were lying in Ryan’s bed after a long day of training a couple of real greenhorns, Joe and Frank, one of whom, Joe, kept slipping to the side of the saddle and almost falling off. They’d both had their hands full trying to keep the guy from hitting the hard ground under him. The good thing was that Joe thought it was hilarious and laughed every time he couldn’t keep his balance.

  Tim ran a finger through the dusting of hair on Ryan’s chest and down to his navel, where he circled the sensitive indentation.

  Ryan grabbed his hand. “That tickles, you know.”

  “I know.” He grinned up at Ryan. “That’s why I do it.”

  “Brat. Anyway, I told you what happened to Jocko. I gave him to someone who needed a horse more than I did at the time.”

  “Oh, yeah, Guy something.”

  “Guy Fuller. He said he’d pay me one day when he had enough money, but I don’t expect that’ll happen. I was just glad Jocko would be looked after by someone who loved horses.”

  “D’you think you’ll buy another when you have the money?” Tim asked.

  “Definitely. In fact, thanks to Royce and Parker, I’m well on the way to having saved enough to do just that. You’ll have to come with me at the next auction. Pretty sure I’ll have enough by then.”

  “That’s great…” Tim reached for his cell phone when it vibrated on the top of Ryan’s nightstand. He glanced at the caller ID. “Talia. I better get this. Hi, sister mine. Kinda late for you, isn’t it?”

  “It’s only nine o’clock. Are you in bed already, or is that a silly question?”

  “None of your business.”

  Talia laughed. “And is that handsome hunk of yours in there with you? Or is that another silly question?”

  “You’re just full of silly questions, ain’t ya?”

  “How about a silly answer?”

  Tim passed the phone to Ryan. “Say hi to Talia.”

  “Hi, Talia.”

  “Hi yourself, you gorgeous man, you.”

  Ryan laughed. “How come your brother never says things like that to me?”

  “He’s a little slow. Anyway, Hal and I are coming down to see you in January.”

  “That’s great. Hey, you better tell Tim, or he’ll get cranky.”

  “Oh, you know him so well already. Talk to you later then.”

  Ryan passed the phone back to Tim. “What’s that I heard about you visiting?” Tim asked.

  “Yeah, we figured now the house is sold and I’ve moved into my condo, we could use a break. We’ll get a hotel near the ranch so you can come over when you have some spare time. Hal’s never been to Sacramento, so he wants to see the Capitol building and museums and that kind of thing while we’re there.”

  Ryan started to tease Tim’s nipples with his fingers then leaned in to kiss and nibble on them. Tim swatted at Ryan’s hand, which did no good at all. He gulped. “So things are good with the two of you?”

  “Real good. Of course he is a realtor. Heh, heh.”

  Tim moaned and glared at Ryan as he continued his nipple torture. “Well…oh…uh, despite the corn, I’m real happy to hear that.”

  Talia laughed. “Which reminds me, well the real estate bit, that is. You’ll be getting a check in the mail any day. Your share of the sale, and there’s more to come once they close out all the escrow doings. Hal explained it to me, but I just played the helpless female so he’d shut up and kiss me. He’s still the best kisser I’ve ever met.”

  Tim could have argued that point, but Ryan hadn’t really kissed Talia, except on the cheek, when they’d met a month ago in Reno. They’d gotten along like a house on fire and Hal had proven to be a nice guy, good-looking, and very affectionate with Talia. Seemed like she’d struck gold this time around.

  “Okay, so we’ll look forward to seeing you guys again,” Tim said, wriggling under Ryan’s teasing hand that he was using to stroke and caress Tim’s torso. He moved his hand south. Tim covered the mouthpiece. “Stop it,” he hissed at a grinning Ryan.

  “Never said that before,” Ryan mumbled then bent to run his lips over Tim’s chest.

  Oh, my God…

  “Okay, bro, I’ll let you go.” She giggled at her rhyme.

  “Okay, bye.” He cut the call abruptly then cursed. “Shit, that was kinda rude of me. I better call her back.”

  “Later,” Ryan said, taking hold of Tim’s rock-hard shaft and massaging it gently. “Right now, I have better plans for us.”

  * * * *

  “Oh, boy…you just rocked my world, again.” Tim kissed Ryan’s lips, lingering over the soft, warm flesh and enjoying the heck out of the thrill that coasted through him.

  “Mmm.” Ryan eased back so he could gaze into Tim’s eyes. “That feeling is totally mutual. You wanna go again?”

  “Yes, but give me a few minutes. We need to clean up some.” He rolled off the bed and went into the bathroom. Ryan followed to dispose of the condom. Tim washed off his chest and abs, wrung the cloth out then handed it to Ryan.

  “I was thinking,” he said once they were back in the bed and he was snuggled against Ryan’s muscular body. “Talia said I was getting a check from the sale of the house, so you don’t have to scrimp anymore to buy your horse.”

  Ryan tensed. “Tim, I am not taking any of your money to buy a horse, or anything else for that matter. Thank you, but no thank you.”

  “Wait a minute.” Tim poked him in the ribs. “When we’re married it’ll be your money too. Just like everything we have, it’ll be yours and mine…ours.” Ryan sat up so fast that Tim face-planted on the pillow. “Hey!”

  “Married?” Ryan gaped at him. “You and me?”

  “Well, yeah.” Tim sat up alongside Ryan. “Wasn’t that always the plan?”

  “What plan? You never mentioned anything about a plan where we got married.”

  Tim glared. “Don’t you want to marry me? You did say you loved me…I just thought that you’d want to make it…you know, kind of official.”

  “Are you asking me to marry you?”

  “Yes, you big lug. That’s what I’m doing!”

  “Well…” Ryan stared up at the ceiling. “I don’t know. I’ll have to think about it, I guess.”

  “What? Well, you better do some mighty fast thinkin’, mister, or—” He yelped when Ryan grabbed him and pinned him to the mattress.

  “Or what?”

  “Or…or… Oh, hell, I don’t know. I don’t have another plan.”

  Ryan’s deep chuckle made Tim’s skin break out in goose bumps. “Okay, I’ll marry you.”

  “You will?”

  “Of course I will. If you’d just waited another week or so I was going to ask you.”

  “Why another week or so?”

  “It’ll be Christmas. And I thought we could go up in the mountains for a couple of days, get a cabin, sit by a roaring fire…kinda romantic, don’t you think?”

  “Yeah.” Tim put his arms around Ryan’s neck and pulled him down for a long, long kiss. “Mmm, you taste so good,” he murmured after some time had passed. “Okay, we can still do the mountain cabin bit, but it’ll have to be after Christmas. We get real busy at that time of the year.”

  “Yeah, I know. That’s why I already cleared it with Parker. When I told him the reason, he gave us his blessing and said he and Royce would cover us for the two days.”
/>   “Royce?” Tim stared at him with disbelief.

  “Yep. Parker said it’d do Royce good to get away from his darned desk for a while. When he agreed I called Mountain High resort and booked us a cabin for two nights…twenty-fourth and twenty-fifth. So, we’re all set.” He kissed Tim gently on the lips. “That is if you’re okay with the arrangements.”

  “I’m more than okay. It sounds like it might be the best Christmas ever.” He fell back down on the mattress, pulling Ryan with him. They kissed for a long time, broken only by a loud rumble from Tim’s stomach. He chuckled. “Sorry, but we did miss dinner, and after all that bed exercise you put me through, I need something to fill me up.”

  Ryan leered at him from narrowed eyes. “I can think of something to fill you up.”

  Tim slid a hand down to grip Ryan’s hard, pulsing erection. “Uh…oh my, so you can. Okay then…I guess snackin’ on somethin’ hot can wait.” He squeezed Ryan’s cock. “Oh, boy. On second thoughts—lucky me—that somethin’ hot is right here.”

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  Unbreak my Heart

  J.P. Bowie

  Excerpt

  Somewhere I read that most people can expect life to deliver a gut punch now and then. Like the time my mom called and told me Dad had emphysema and had to take it easy or else the doctors couldn’t guarantee him any kind of longevity. I’d always seen him strong as a horse, unassailable in a way. I wasn’t ready to believe he was mortal like the rest of us.

  Then there was that moment when everything I’d held dear came crashing down around me. That was when Darren, the love of my life, left me after three years of living and loving—or so I thought—together. For the longest time after that trauma it was my complete conviction that no one could ever replace him in looks, ambition or sexual prowess. The many men I’ve known since then have all seemed the same, with one or two exceptions. Few came close in comparison with the son of a bitch who broke my heart. Not just broke it. Shattered it into tiny bits then stomped on it.

  I tried drowning my depression with the aid of booze and in the arms of any random guy who looked at me more than once. But nights of self-indulgence followed by hangovers from hell didn’t help soothe the hurt. As each day or week passed, I was more and more certain that the pain of Darren’s leaving me without a word, without even a note to tell me he was gone for good, would never really go away.

  * * * *

  I’d gone to a three-day convention in New York, representing the software company I worked for. The night before I left, we’d had sex. As I’d lingered in the doorway of our apartment clutching my suitcase, he’d kissed me like it was going out of style, as if he’d never see me again. Little did I know. I called him when I got to NYC to let him know I’d arrived safely. I had to leave a message. I called him again before I crashed for the night. Ditto with the message. By morning, when again there was no pickup on his end, I started to worry.

  Had something happened to him? An accident of some kind, bad news from his family, a problem at work? None of those things made much sense. Why wouldn’t he call to let me know? All morning while I was trying to concentrate on the various convention speakers, thoughts of Darren invaded my mind. At the first break then again at lunchtime and at the end of the day, I called him, but could only leave messages that were beginning to sound slightly frantic.

  “Where are you? Has something happened? Call me please, Darren.”

  “What’s up, Jason? You look like you’re about to implode.” The speaker, William Branson, one of my supervisors at Sonar Electronics, was staring at me, his expression one of amused concern.

  “Uh, it’s just that I can’t get hold of Darren,” I told him. “I’ve called him a dozen times it seems like, and all I get is his voicemail.”

  “Have you tried his office?”

  “He doesn’t like me calling him there.” I bit my lower lip. Boy, did that sound lame.

  William lifted an eyebrow. “He might forgive you this time if something serious has happened.”

  “Yeah…” What the hell, I thought, glancing at my watch. Almost five. They didn’t close up shop until five-thirty. I punched in his office number on my cell.

  “Barker, Hollingworth and Anderson, Attorneys-at-law. This is Cindi. How may I direct your call?”

  “Uh, Darren Anderson, please.”

  “I’m sorry, Mister Anderson is not here today.”

  “What?”

  “I said, Mr. Anderson is not here today. Can I take a message?”

  “You—you must be mistaken,” I sputtered. “Wait, did he call out sick?” A vision of Darren languishing on his bed unable to reach his phone flooded my mind followed immediately by the thought, That’s stupid, if he called out sick, he’d have had to reach his phone.

  “No, sir, he has an out-of-town meeting. May I ask who is calling?”

  “Yeah, Jason Harrison. I’m his… I’m a friend.” Darren didn’t want anyone at the office knowing he was gay and had a live-in lover, me. “A meeting you say? Out of town?” I didn’t quite know where to go with this conversation.

  “Yes, sir,” Cindi replied. I could tell she was trying not to sound as if she was getting impatient. “May I take a message?”

  “No, no… I’ll try again later.”

  “Mr. Anderson won’t be back in the office until the day after tomorrow, sir.”

  “What?”

  “I said—”

  “Yes, I heard what you said. I’m just finding it hard to process. He never mentioned anything about that to me before I left yesterday morning.” Oops. Darren would frown heavily if Cindi passed on my concern in that manner. “Uh, I mean, I was on the phone…at the airport.”

  “Well, Mr. Harrison, I’m sure Mr. Anderson will be happy to return your call when he gets back. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

  “No—no, that’s okay. Thank you.” I hung up and stared bleakly at William who had not moved away but had listened to my end of that entire troubling conversation. He knew about Darren and me and had met Darren on a couple of occasions. “She said he was out of town…at a meeting.”

  “That’s good then. No need to worry. Come on, let’s have a drink before dinner.”

  “It’s just strange that he never mentioned any of it to me…the meeting I mean…and going out of town. I don’t get it.”

  “I’m sure there’s a rational explanation. It may have just slipped his mind.”

  I threw him a look of disbelief. “Darren letting something like an out-of-town meeting slip his mind? I don’t think so.”

  “Well, try not to worry about it, Jason.” He put an arm around my shoulders. “Come on, that bartender looks mighty lonesome over there.”

  I let him steer me over to the bar and ordered a Scotch rocks when he asked what I wanted. Darren was going to have some explaining to do when I did eventually talk to him.

  The convention couldn’t end fast enough as far as I was concerned. I’d actually contemplated skipping out early and taking a red-eye back to San Diego, but I knew this would not be viewed amicably by William and my other bosses back at Sonar. William kept trying to assure me that I was worrying needlessly and that when Darren got back to town all would be satisfactorily revealed. On the third day we shared a cab to the airport and I had to listen to him voice his thoughts about how the convention had gone. I couldn’t have given a flying fuck on the subject but, somehow, I managed to interject a few thoughts of my own, if only to stop the feelings of dread that kept surfacing in my brain.

  William slept through most of the flight back, which was good and bad. Left with only the drone of the plane’s engines to fill the silence from my sleeping companion, all kinds of scenarios filled my mind, the overriding one being, of course, that Darren had left me. Hard as that was to imagine or to believe, what other explanation could there be? I had thought of calling his mother, but then nixed the idea for fear of worrying her unduly if she hadn
’t heard about this ‘out-of-town meeting’. Lisa Anderson’s health was fragile at the best of times and I didn’t want to be the one who sent her into a relapse of some kind. Plus, she didn’t like me very much, so a call to her would have to be a last resort.

  William and I parted ways at the airport and I took a cab for the relatively short ride to our apartment on Sixth Avenue. The concierge gave me a cheery “Good evening, Mr. Harrison” greeting when I rushed past him for the elevators. I figured there would be nothing left of my lower lip if I kept gnashing at it like a nervous rabbit. Pull yourself together, I told myself over and over while the elevator climbed to the tenth floor. Like William said, there had to be a rational explanation for this—but what the hell could it be?

  Standing outside our apartment door, I took a deep breath, inserted the key in the lock, pushed the door open and stepped inside. The forced jollity of my “Hi, honey, I’m home” died on my lips. It was as if my stomach had sunk to my knees while I stared with horror at the near-empty living room. The bare walls, the missing comfy couch where we’d spent so many evenings cuddling while we watched television—also missing—was hard for me to at first process. My suitcase slipped through my nerveless fingers and dropped with a thud onto the tiled floor. Like a zombie I walked toward the bedroom, already knowing what I’d find. Another near-empty room. The California King bed was gone, along with the nightstands, and the closets on Darren’s side were completely bare.

  The spare room still had its double bed. Well, at least I wouldn’t have to sleep on the floor or find a hotel room for the night. How thoughtful of you, Darren. I held back my tears, manfully, and bit back the words of rage that threatened to pour from my mouth. Instead, they screamed at full throttle inside my head.

  You’ve left me, you unmitigated bastard, you soulless son of a bitch. You’ve left me! I fell to my knees and the dam burst.

  The next few weeks sort of passed in a blur of tears, anger and self-recrimination. After all, one has to wonder why, right? My frequent calls to his personal and business numbers went unanswered and that was when the anger surfaced for real. I’m ashamed to admit that I left some pretty horrible messages on his voicemail until the day when I was electronically told that the person I was trying to reach was no longer the owner of the number I had dialed. In addition, when I called his office, I was told in no uncertain terms that Mr. Anderson did not wish to accept my calls.