Changes Coming Down

by Kaje Harper

  “What did you do?” Will asked softly.

  Landon opened his mouth, but something, maybe the pull of the cuffs or the sight of Casey, brought him back to his senses. His cool, disdainful look dropped back into place. “Nothing. This is all a big misunderstanding. I want a lawyer.”

  “You’ll get one,” Casey said. “Forell, you and Masterton transport him using my cruiser. Ruiz, did you get any video?”

  “Got most of it up to the arrest,” Ruiz said. “Safe and sound.”

  Forell grabbed Landon’s arm. “Come on, you.”

  Landon tried to pull away, his calm facade slipping. “This is a setup. Rice just wants to get my half of the money.” Forell tugged on him, and he turned to her. “It’s all fake. Rice is fucking your precious sheriff up the ass. You know that? Those fags cooked this up between them.”

  “Actually,” Will said, “mostly Casey fucks me.”

  Casey winced, because the wire was still recording, but he couldn’t reject Will’s gesture of defiance. He glared at Landon. “And this fag sheriff just nailed you admitting to murder on video. Think about that on your way to the lockup.” He waved at Forell. She and Masterton dragged Landon out, and they heard the cruiser pull away.

  Casey turned to Ruiz. “You and Pauley finish with the scene and the weapon, and upload your recordings. I’ll get a ride out here for you, and call the tow to haul in Landon’s car. You’ll need to go through that too, and you have a ton of paperwork to do.”

  “Yes, sir.” Ruiz even sounded like he meant that, despite the fact that Casey was totally micromanaging him.

  He shook his head, laughed, and slapped Ruiz on the back. “That was great!” The weight of worrying and wondering was sliding from his shoulders and he felt lightheaded. “You did awesome. And Masterton. Who knew he had those kind of acting chops? Commendations all around.”

  “Thank you.” Ruiz turned to Will. “Sorry, sir, that got a bit nasty at the end there.”

  “Nothing to be sorry about,” Will said roughly. “You guys were brilliant. And call me Will.”

  “Okay, Will.”

  Casey moved toward the door. “Will and I will hike back to the farmhouse, and I’ll head to the station.”

  “It’s cold out there for a walk.”

  “We’re dressed for it. I’ll see you back at the shop.”

  “Right.” Ruiz paused. “I have to say, sir, I really wish you were staying in office. You’re one hell of a sheriff.”

  Casey fought back the tightness in his throat to say calmly, “Thanks. I’m sure you’ll all continue the good work without me.”

  “Under Sheriff Kensington.” Ruiz didn’t give the guy any of the nicknames Casey had been steadfastly ignoring around the station, but his disdain was clear.

  “Yes. You’re all more than capable, no matter who you’re working for.” He needed to lighten this up. “And I have two more days, in which I’ll be on everyone’s asses to see the evidence for this case sewn up tight, right?”

  Ruiz saluted, with only a hint of irony. “Yes, sir. I’m sure you will, sir.”

  “I’ll see you later.” He swung the door open. The sharp fresh air helped clear his head, with Will safe and sound right behind him. The snow squeaked under their boots, and their breath hung in little plumes of smoke. After a minute, Will came up alongside.

  Casey would’ve put an arm around him, but Will had his hands stuffed deep in the pockets of his barn coat, his back hunched and head down, and Casey wasn’t sure his touch would be welcome. He bumped Will’s shoulder once, and they walked on in silence. Scott would’ve been filling the air with words, good words, Scotty words that would make you want to simultaneously kiss and smack him. With Will, time and open spaces and the ranch would have to do the first healing.

  The path was slippery enough to demand their attention in the fading afternoon light. They were almost at the house before Will said, “That’s it, right? He can’t get out of that?”

  Casey knew better than to say never. He’d seen airtight cases fall apart on stupid technicalities, but Will didn’t need to hear that now. He said, “Landon admitted to hiring someone to commit murder. He held a gun on a deputy. He’s toast.”

  They walked a few more steps.

  “He hates me.”

  “That’s not your fault.”

  “He’s right that I was nothing, till Graham and Annmarie took me in.”

  Casey caught Will’s padded sleeve to stop him. “You may have had nothing, but you never were nothing. You were the boy the Slaters came to love like a son, the man they trusted with everything they cared for. You’re the man Scotty and I love. Don’t let that bastard make you less than who you are.”

  Will shook his head. “I don’t get it. If he’d asked them, they’d have given him any kind of help they could.”

  “Men like that don’t want to ask. They want to own.” Casey slid his arm around Will for a quick squeeze. “Come on. I’m freezing my ass off. Let’s go inside.”

  He gave Will time to stop at the barn and explain briefly to the hands, then convinced him to let Nita run evening chores. He squeezed into the shower with Will, soaping him up from head to toe, so the heat and the clean would soak into his bones. When they got out, he made coffee and put Will’s phone in his hand. “Call Scott.”

  Will set the phone on the table.

  “Hi guys, is everyone okay? How’d it go?”

  “We’re fine,” Will said.

  Casey put in, “It went slick. Landon nailed his own hide to the wall.”

  “Good! That motherfucker needs to be behind bars.”

  “He is now.”

  Will said, “How about you? How was your flight?”

  “Meh. It didn’t crash.”

  Casey laughed. “That good, huh? Where are you now? Portland?”

  “Nope. You know, I live there now, and I’m stuck on this fucking road trip. I don’t know where the fuck we are. Let me check the hotel stationery.” There was a scuffling sound. “Anaheim. That’s right. We play the fucking Ducks tonight.”

  “Scott.” Casey let his voice go low. “You’re swearing up a storm. What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” Scott sounded grumpy. “I was worried about you guys, and morning skate sucked, and I’m twice as far away from you guys as before, and I didn’t get an assist in my first Rafters game, so I gotta do better tonight. I’m sweating the small stuff.”

  “When do you have to head to the arena.”

  There was a pause. “An hour.”

  “You’ve busted that no-sex-before-a-game rule before, right?”

  “Oh.” Scott’s voice deepened. “Yeah.”

  Casey hesitated. He ought to head back to the station. But technically he was off duty, he’d just struggle to keep his paws off Ruiz’s case, and sometimes taking care of his guys meant not working 24-7. He took Will’s phone, called Scott on Skype, and propped it up against the tissue box. Reaching for Will, he kissed him slowly and thoroughly.

  “Mm, wish I was there,” Scott said.

  Casey kissed Will’s throat, then tugged at the sweatshirt he’d pulled on after the shower. “We have a bit of time to play, Scotty. How about you take over? Tell us what to do.”

  “Will,” Scott asked. “You up for games?”

  Casey kissed Will hard before he could answer, and when he was done Will’s words came out soft and slow. “Yeah. Hell, yeah. Keep us from thinking, Scott. I want to feel something good.”

  “Oh, you will.” There was a particular tone in Scott’s voice when he stepped up to the plate for the three of them, a roughness that ran lightning down Casey’s spine and made his dick stand up in anticipation. “Take Will’s shirt off, Case. Get his nipples wet.”

  “Sir, yes, sir.” He pulled the fleece up and over Will’s face and tugged the shirt free. Will’s nipples were already crinkled and hard in the cool air. He pushed Will into a chair, nudged his knees apart and knelt between them, pressing his mouth to Will’s chest. T
he feel of Will’s hands in his hair and the purr of Scott’s voice in his ears, as he sucked on one tight nub, were old and familiar and yet new every time.

  Will whimpered under his breath and Scott laughed. Casey sucked harder, pinching the other nipple between his fingers. The world and its demands might be out there, but for now, for the span of half an hour, it would be just Scotty and Will and him. He could handle whatever the future might bring, as long as it held moments like this.

  Chapter 12

  * Six months later *

  Will sat at the desk in his study. He was supposed to be making out a breeding chart for the Charolais herd, trying to figure out which young bull to keep. Instead he was on his cell phone, scrolling through old texts from HB, aka Scotty. Again.

  ~I can’t believe it’s Christmas and I’m not there. I guess one last good holiday with the ’rents is worth something, before I screw that up by coming out. But I miss you guys something fierce. I sent something. I hope it arrived.

  The package had come two days late, no name on it, but they’d toasted Scott with the good whiskey and good chocolate. It hadn’t come close to filling the space where he belonged.

  ~Portland rains all the time. Like, all the damned time. I think I’m growing moss, or maybe gills. Then I think of you suckers in the snow and ice and hey, gills could be attractive on a guy, ya think?

  ~A hat trick! I’m walking on air. Wish you were here. I’d nail both of you to the mattress, the way I feel.

  ~Thanks for heading off the journalist. I can’t believe they bothered to track us down, but at least it means all the paranoia wasn’t in vain.

  Scott’s knee had been holding up well, and his stats had been great. He’d been racking up the points right then. A sports reporter showed up to do a human-interest piece about Scott being a rancher in his spare time. Casey had done his best impression of a grumpy Marine turned cowboy, and Will had played local yokel. Nita’s “Ain’t seen the hockey boy this year,” and Joe’s “He’s got no time for us these days,” cemented the deal. The reporter had gone off with the impression the ranch was just an investment for Scott, and had written about the “gay cowboy owners” as a side note. They’d all breathed a sigh of relief.

  ~It figures Landon would cop a plea. I’m glad you guys won’t have to go through a trial, and it’s good he’s convicted, but when he could be out of prison in fifteen years, that sucks big-time. A lot of mixed feelings, except the one where I wish I’d been there with you when you heard about it.

  Will was still both angry and relieved at not having to face Landon in a courtroom. Between his hurt over the Slaters, and Casey’s bubbling fury at the plea bargain he had no power to influence, the house had been a dark, uncomfortable place for a while. Scott would’ve made it brighter.

  Casey was still restless, throwing himself into the ranch work as if trying to tire himself out. Will almost wished Todd Kensington had known about the murder and conspired with Landon. He’d envisioned Casey arresting Sheriff Todd, reclaiming the job he clearly missed like an amputated limb. Unfortunately, it looked like Todd hadn’t done anything more than accept a legal campaign contribution. He’d backed away from any link to Landon fast, and even managed to get some good publicity out of the conviction. Smarmy bastard. Will had really missed having Scott around to distract Casey.

  ~Dad’s heart is doing better, so don’t come. He’s getting out of the ICU tomorrow. It’d just stress him and Mom out if they met you right now, and I’m fine.

  They’d had plane tickets ready to click on, but Casey said if Scott claimed he was fine, they had to respect that. They’d burned a lot of phone and Skype minutes, talking him through the crisis and the aftermath. Thank God, John Edison had come through surgery okay and was healing now.

  ~We’re officially out of the playoffs. Not a surprise, but you always hope. And no cracks about not raising the Rafters, you hear me?

  They’d hoped that would mean time together during the playoffs, when the other teams were busy, but Scott had had a great season even if his new team didn’t. He’d gotten some endorsements and been tied up with filming commercials and doing promo appearances for the team. Scott’s face now greeted them in ads for aftershave and breathable-fabric running gear and pomegranate juice. Casey had recorded every one, and Will knew he secretly rewatched them.

  ~It sucks the two of you couldn’t agree on the budget for the ranch, but I do like knowing what I said was helpful. I wish I could be there. This summer we’ll find a way.

  That was the chorus as he scrolled through the short messages. Over and over.

  ~I wish I was there…

  ~I wish you were here…

  ~I wish I’d seen that…

  ~I wish.

  Will did too. If he looked at his sent messages, there’d be whole lot of the same thing. Scott had eventually confessed he was terrified they’d find they didn’t need him, if he was gone too long. Instead the opposite seemed to have happened.

  Will and Casey were good together, but they weren’t perfect. Casey was hotheaded and bullheaded, slow to admit when he was wrong, and Will himself was too easygoing and hated a fight. They’d made some costly mistakes along the way, when he gave in to something Casey wanted, that Will knew was a bad idea.

  Casey had wanted to sink all the rest of his family money into the ranch, when Will thought a rainy day fund was smarter. Will had walked off and… okay, sulked in his trailer. Scott would have made them talk it out. Now they had a new snowplow that was way overpowered for most of the places they used it, and a studhorse with a bad attitude eating his head off in the barn. And a giant Scott-sized hole in their home.

  Not all the texts were loving of course. One of Will’s favorites said:

  ~Screw that. You’re both wrong. Fuck you and fuck him too.

  Not something he’d normally treasure, except there was another one, sent twenty minutes later.

  ~I’ve clearly been away too long. Because I was mad as hell when I sent that, and now all I can think about is fucking him. And fucking you. How long until summer?

  Casey came into the study and hung over Will’s shoulder. “Are you looking through those again?”

  “I like ’em.”

  “I know. But you need to finish the breeding chart and give Joe his orders, so we can pack and go.”

  “Wow, how late is it?” He glanced at his watch. “Damn. I was woolgathering.”

  “Yeah. I know whose wool. I can’t wait to see him.”

  “Are you sure this is a good idea, Case?”

  Casey frowned. “He says he wants us there. We have to trust him.”

  “Did he tell you what he’s planning?”

  “Nope. Hey, look at it this way. It’s a free trip to Vegas.”

  “If we consider his money to be our money, it ain’t free.” Will couldn’t help worrying. “He’s a finalist for Rookie of the Year. There’ll be a lot of eyes on him in Vegas.”

  “We’ve had practice making it look casual. He said he’ll meet us at the airport. Maybe we can stop somewhere anonymous and take the edge off.”

  Will grinned. “I do like the way you think, Mr. Barlow.”

  “Then get your ass in gear and get packed. We need to leave for the airport in an hour.”

  ***

  Arriving in the Las Vegas airport was like landing in a different world. It was busy and loud and definitely not Will’s kind of place, eye-wateringly bright despite the gray-toned architecture, and there were slot machines. In the airport. Blue neon and big screens and way too many people in shorts.

  Then Will spotted someone who looked damned good with bare legs. He stepped away from the carousel to give Scott a bro hug. “Hey there, looking great. You’ve got a tan.”

  “I’ve been here a couple of days already.” Scott turned. “Hey, Casey.” They hugged too. “Did you guys actually check a bag?”

  “Nah, just figured this was an easy place to meet,” Casey said. “You have transportation?”

/>   “Yeah. A rental. Come on.”

  They each had a backpack, which was plenty for overnight. They’d worn their jackets, rather than pack them. Scott said they didn’t need suits, just sport coats. When they hit the doors, the June heat hit them back. Casey puffed a breath and shrugged off his jacket. “No wonder everyone wears shorts.”

  “Yeah. It’s brutal. They make up for it by cooling the indoor spaces to, like, sixty degrees. That way people spend all their time inside, gambling. The car has AC, at least. Come on.” Scott led the way through the parking.

  As they slung their packs into the trunk, Casey asked, “How late are we? The damned plane sat on the runway for the better part of two hours.”

  “Not too late. Close though. I still have to run by the hotel and get changed, but there won’t be time for any fun. Dammit.” Scott glanced at them as he got into the driver’s seat. “I’d been hoping for some fun, to take the edge off.”

  Casey got in beside him and Will got the back. In the privacy of the moving car, Will said, “How long do we need? If I can’t get you off in under five minutes, I’m losing my touch.”

  “Christ.” Scott laughed breathlessly. “Yeah. Okay. Maybe we have that much time.”

  But when they got to the hotel, Scott kissed them both fervently, but without follow-through, and said, “Listen. I want you both. Like, a lot. Except I’m kind of wound up and I need to get changed. After the show, we’ll go somewhere else, to your hotel room maybe. We’ll take our time?”

  “It’s your night,” Will said, forcing his thoughts away from Scott getting undressed, splashing water on his pits, damp and warm— “You call the shots.”

  “Thanks.” Scott ducked into the bathroom.

  Will gave Casey a blank look. Casey shrugged. That was weird. Scott was always up for dealing with stress via hot sex, so he had to be way off-balance tonight to turn them down.