Strung Up

  The guys wrapped up their conversation as soon as I approached them. The paranoia still lingered that people were talking about me when a discussion abruptly ended if I was within earshot.

  “Morning,” I said to Sutton.

  “Hey, Breck.” He pointed with his chin to my cup of coffee. “Fair warning that London made the coffee. It’s got a serious kick.”

  I looked around for her. “Where is your better half?”

  “Helping Grandma Berlin fill my truck with more shit for Brennen. I swear we could open a damn toy store with all the stuff both sets of his grandparents buy him.”

  “You’re not really complaining, buddy.”

  Sutton smiled. “Only when I have to haul it and set it up. But the look on my boy’s face is worth it.” He paused. “What’s goin’ on with you?”

  “Just wandering around. It appears the open house was a success.”

  “Thank God it’s over. Now I’ll get my wife back. She’s been stayin’ here three nights a week getting ready for it.”

  “Shame she’s not teachin’.” I hid my smirk behind my cup.

  “Bite your damn tongue,” he shot back. “The woman’s temperament is better suited to workin’ with horses than people.”

  “Looked like London was tearin’ it up last night.”

  “Cres’s fault. He started her on the tequila.”

  There was the angle I needed. “So Cres didn’t stick around last night?”

  “He drove Wyn’s truck home since he had to feed cattle this morning. Why?”

  “He forgot to give me his number last night after”—he came all over my hand and took off like his ass was on fire—“we spent time talkin’ and stuff. Wondered if you’d give it to me.”

  Sutton’s eyes narrowed. “I saw you two talkin’.”

  “You say that like we were doin’ something besides talkin’,” I said evenly.

  “Were you? You both disappeared for a while.”

  “Not exactly what I asked. Not any of your business either.”

  “Along those same lines, if he’d wanted you to have his number, he would’ve given it to you, doncha think?” Sutton retorted.

  That was a little hard to do when he had my cock in his mouth. “Look. If you don’t want to give it to me, that’s cool.” I’ll just get it from someone else went unsaid.

  Sutton studied me before he sighed. “I’m protective of him.”

  “Why? I get that he’s your younger brother, but he is an adult.”

  “Cres has had a rough go of it and I don’t want you takin’ advantage of him.” Sutton’s gaze hardened. “Like you did a few years ago when I sent him to you to deal with my horse.”

  “Cres was an adult then too. He made his own choices. And fuck you if you think his bein’ with me back then somehow turned him gay.”

  “Whoa. I never said that and I sure as hell didn’t mean to imply it.” He paused. “Let’s start over. This isn’t meant to be accusatory. But when you were talkin’ with Cres last night, did you tell him about bein’ outed and all the crap that happened afterward?”

  “Yeah. I always thought you were bein’ humble when you said not everyone in your family rabidly followed rodeo.” I sipped my coffee. “He didn’t know anything about it.”

  “Not surprised. People outside the world of rodeo would likely shrug and wonder why it’d been such a big deal.” He folded his arms on his chest. “So part of me wonders why you’d willingly put yourself back into this world, Breck.”

  My cheeks heated. “It’s not like I have another skill set. And besides, don’t think I don’t know that you’re the one who suggested me as a possible instructor for the Gradskys’ rodeo school. Macon made the call, but that happened at your urging, Sutton.”

  He grinned. “I figured if they couldn’t have me, they’d want the second best champion bulldogger…which is you.”

  “You’re hilarious. And if I haven’t said it, I appreciate your faith in me.” Before things got sappy or awkward, I added, “So why didn’t you take the job? Since your wife is here all the time anyway?”

  “After I survived that last run, during my stint in the hospital I swore that I was done throwing myself off the back of a galloping horse onto a steer. It’s a promise I’ve kept.”

  “Bein’ a teacher doesn’t mean you have to actually demonstrate,” I pointed out.

  “Maybe not for you and the way you teach, but it does for me. I’ve told my in-laws I’ll fill in if the need arises.” Sutton gave me another shit-eating grin. “So if you want a four-time world champion bulldogger as a guest lecturer, I’d be happy to swing by your classroom.”

  “Don’t be surprised if it ends up bein’ permanent for you. The students—or their parents—might run me out on a rail anyway.”

  Sutton shook his head. “Ain’t gonna happen. Chuck and Berlin will stand behind you, Breck. Whether you have a chick or a dude in your bed at the end of the night has no bearing on your past credentials and shouldn’t be allowed to diminish your expertise.”

  “Thanks.”

  “No problem. And I’ll go you one better than giving you Cres’s phone number. I’ll give you his address so you can drop off the pneumatic drill I borrowed from him. I’ve got too much baby junk in my truck.”

  I’d take any excuse to talk to Cres and find out what had happened last night.

  “I’ll drive over to your campsite and drop it off. Say…fifteen minutes?”

  “Sounds good.”

  I was leaning against my Jeep when Sutton pulled up. The pneumatic drill wasn’t big, so I recognized his excuse of not having enough room in his 350 diesel truck was total horseshit. I tried not to dissect why Sutton had changed his mind about me corrupting his younger brother.

  He handed me a scrap of paper. “Here’s Cres’s address for you to punch into the GPS.” He slammed the hatchback door on the Jeep. “Like I said before, Cres had a rough go the last two years so I’m glad to see him…” He sighed. “Sounds clichéd to say livin’ again, but it’s true.”

  “What’s been goin’ on with him?”

  Sutton’s head snapped up so fast his hat nearly tumbled off his head. “He didn’t tell you about Mick?”

  A bad feeling rolled over me. “Not a word.”

  “You really didn’t do a lot of talkin’, did you?” He held up his hand. “Sorry. None of my business.”

  “We talked a lot, Sutton. Just not about Mick.” I’d asked Cres what he’d been up to and he’d hedged. Even when I’d called him on it, he’d managed to sidestep any conversation about his life. And I’d let him.

  “That little shit. I’m gonna wring his damn neck.”

  “Who’s Mick? An ex or something?”

  “Mick was his boyfriend. They met at our wedding and moved in together. Two years ago Mick was killed in a freak accident. Cres shut down after that. And I hate to admit this, but Wyn and Mel had a baby a few months before Mick died, and then me and London had Brennen. We were busy with our lives and didn’t butt into his. Last night was the first time we forced him into a social situation that wasn’t only our immediate family. And he wouldn’t have come if we’d given him any advance notice or if Wyn hadn’t driven him.”

  Now Cres running out on me made sense. It also gave me an odd feeling of loss—like I’d already lost Cres because he belonged to someone else. “I’m glad you forced his appearance.”

  “And now I’m forcing yours.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Good thing Wyn didn’t notice you and Cres talkin’.”

  “Why?”

  “Wyn ain’t your biggest fan. He’d discourage…hell he’d probably campaign to keep Cres from spending time with you.”

  I frowned. “I’m confused. I don’t know Wyn. I’ve met him like once.”

  “But he thinks he knows you. Do you even remember bein’ a total prick to Mel at our wedding?”

  I shook my head. “I barely remember bein’ at your wedding. My date drove; I drank and ended up passing out in
the motel room. I woke up to discover she’d snuck out at some point during the night with all of my cash.” I felt the heat of shame spread across my face and neck. “I understand why Wyn would have a problem with me if I acted like a drunken fucktard.”

  “Pretty much,” he said with far too much glee.

  “Does Mel feel the same way about me?”

  “I don’t know. You always were a cocky, manipulative, condescending asshat. I know you’ve changed. London and her family have embraced the changes you’ve made. They’ve accepted the man you are now. As far as anyone else…including my brother? You’d better brush up on the charm that used to come so naturally.”

  “Awesome.”

  He clapped me on the shoulder. “Good luck.”

  * * * *

  I pulled up to Cres’s place around lunchtime. He lived in a log house—not the norm in Eastern Colorado. Off to the left side by the garage stood a row of evergreens. On the right side was a corral and a metal barn. I gave the rest of the area a passing look after Cres ambled out of the house and paused at the top of the steps on the front porch.

  Immediately after I climbed out of my rig, a dog tore out of the barn, snapping and snarling as it barreled toward me.

  Cres bounded down the steps, yelling, “Banjo, knock it off.”

  By the time the Australian shepherd skidded to a stop by head-butting my knees, he’d lowered his hackles and was wagging his tail. I crouched down to pet him. “Banjo, huh? Bud, I’m afraid your bark is worse than your bite.”

  Banjo yipped and tried to lick my face.

  I grinned and let him. I missed having a dog.

  “Banjo, go lay down,” Cres commanded.

  The dog circled me one more time before he trotted up the porch steps and out of sight.

  I stood and propped my hands on my hips. Let him take the first stab at conversation.

  He said, “Let me guess. You were just in the neighborhood.”

  “It’s a hard place to find without GPS.”

  “It’s an even harder place to find when my name, address, and phone number are unlisted.”

  “Sutton asked me to return your pneumatic drill. Blame him for breaching your privacy. But he refused to give me your cell phone number, so it’s kind of a wash.” I paused. “Then again, he did tell me about Mick. So you might want to chew his ass about that.”

  His posture stiffened. “What’d he say about him?”

  “More than you did, that’s for damn sure. So I’m here because I wanna hear it from you, Cres. I’ll even tell you where I want you to start. Back to our conversation last night when I asked what you’d been up to and all you said was ranching with Wyn.”

  Cres turned and focused on a spot beyond the horizon, giving me his profile. The muscle in his jaw bunched and I could almost hear him grinding his teeth together.

  Seemed like an hour passed, but when I glanced at my watch, it’d only been five minutes. Still, that was a long time to exist in silence.

  You don’t need this. Sure, you like Cres. Maybe you’ve always liked him a little too much. But right now, he’s a former hookup. That’s all he sees you as. Take the hint and move on.

  Cres remained in the “stare at nothing” state when I took the drill out of the back of my truck and carried it to the porch.

  I paused behind him and said, “Take care.” I’d almost made it to the sanctity of my truck when Cres spoke.

  “I loved Mick. We were inseparable almost from the moment we met. He died just over two years ago when a car slipped off its jack and crushed him.”

  An ugly death. Accidents left survivors with too many “what if” scenarios and guilt the accident could’ve been prevented. I ached for him.

  “When you told me that you lost everything after you were outed on the circuit, my first thought was…you don’t really know what it’s like to lose everything.”

  The anger in his tone? Not a surprise. The derision? Unnecessary and unfair. I faced him. “Death trumps everything. Got it. Sorry that I burdened you with my insignificant life problems. Don’t worry. You’re still the champ in the ‘shittiest life event’ contest that I didn’t realize we were playing.” I stepped closer to the driver’s side door. “Sorry for your loss, Cres.”

  “Don’t go.”

  I paused with my boot on the running board.

  “I know I sound like a dick. But I didn’t get to finish that train of thought before you jumped in,” Cres said testily.

  “I’m listening.”

  “For a year and a half, I believed I’d lost everything when Mick died. It’s just been in the past few months that I could face the truth. I gave up everything as a result of Mick’s death. He’s the only thing I lost. But I can’t go back and I’ve been fucking petrified to try to go forward. I haven’t talked to anyone about it.”

  That admission smoothed the rough edges of my anger.

  “Seein’ you last night…was the first time I felt like movin’ on.” Cres jammed his hand through his hair. “Trauma, grief, whatever is not a competition. I’m sorry if it sounded like I one-upped you.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me about Mick last night?”

  His head snapped up. “Because I wanted to see if I could be a normal single guy again. Acting on an attraction to a hot guy who knew nothin’ about what I’d been through.”

  “And?”

  “And you were there. I fucking ran out on you when it got to be too much.”

  “You also gave me one helluva blowjob. You almost had me coming in my jeans before you stripped them off and made me come again.” I locked my gaze to his. “From where I’m standing, you had no problem acting on your attraction to me.”

  Cres broke eye contact. “I said his name.”

  “What?”

  “When I started to come, I said Mick.” His gaze returned to my face. “That’s why I ran out.”

  “And you thought I’d what? Knock you on your ass if you told me that?”

  He erased the distance between us and got right in my face. “Why the hell are you bein’ so reasonable about this, Breck?”

  I have no fucking idea.

  I fisted my hand in his shirt and hauled him closer. “Because I want more of you, dumbass. A whole lot more.” My mouth crashed down on his and I kissed the shit out of him. He had an aggressive streak, but it was nothing compared to mine. Nothing.

  He wasn’t the only one who’d had a recent revelation. I’d stared at the damn ceiling for three fucking hours after he’d left last night. Not only wondering what had happened to make him run, but wondering when I’d lost my goddamned balls and hadn’t chased after him. When had I turned into the mild-mannered gentleman cowboy who hid in his motor home? I’d always been the guy who went after what he wanted—men, women, championships, sponsorships. I’d let the system, a goddamned system that failed me, dictate the kind of man I became after I’d risen from the ashes of my spectacular crash and burn.

  No. More.

  Cres eased up on the kiss. He kept one hand twined in my hair and the other hand flattened on my chest. “Sorry I fucked up and didn’t tell you about Mick.”

  “I’m not the same asshole guy I used to be.”

  “You never were an asshole to me, Breck.”

  There was that sweetness again.

  Cres confessed, “I’m still a little screwed up.”

  “Aren’t we all screwed up about something?”

  “I guess.” He sighed. “I gotta admit, this isn’t goin’ like I envisioned when I saw your Jeep pull up. But I am really glad you chased me down.”

  “I should’ve done it last night. But bein’s I was buck-ass nekkid and you weren’t, you had a head start.” I slid my hand beneath his jawbone and feathered my thumb across his bottom lip. “It turns me the fuck on when your lips get like this, full and red and shiny. I could get used to seein’ them like that all the time.”

  Cres’s body went taut.

  Even when I had good intentions, I somehow me
ssed up by saying or doing the wrong thing. “What’s wrong?”

  “Just because I said I was testing the waters to see if I’m ready to move on, I’m not lookin’ for a relationship ever again.”

  “Never?”

  “Love ain’t worth the trouble of the heartache you get when you lose it.”

  I should’ve run then. Instead, I shrugged as if my heart wasn’t hurting for him. And hurting for myself since I’d never been lucky enough to have that kind of love. “I’m not here for the long haul anyway.”

  His gaze turned shrewd. “How long are you here?”

  “For the first session, which is nine weeks. Then I’ll decide if I’m cut out for teachin’. But I’ll warn ya, I’ve still got itchy feet even after spending twenty years livin’ on the road. I like it. It’s part of