Once we were naked, he tumbled me onto the bed. My brain was hazy with want, whole body thrumming with anticipation as he claimed my mouth again. He was a warm, welcome weight on top of me, the only blanket I’d ever need. I arched against him, testing his strength, reveling in how damn good each contact felt.

  “What do you need?” Grayson pulled away to ask.

  You. That was always going to be my answer from here to eternity. I needed him, all of him, but that wasn’t what he was asking. “More of this is great.”

  Ordinarily, I wouldn’t turn down the chance to fuck, but calling today long was a vast understatement. I wasn’t about to call a halt to the proceedings for a shower break, but I was also more than happy to luxuriate in something like frot than get caught up in logistic worries.

  Grayson gave me another kiss and an experimental thrust against me, our hard cocks brushing. I hissed out a pleased breath. “Yes.”

  “You can come from making out?” His eyebrows knit together. Ah, yes, poor formerly straight man. I chuckled.

  “You can’t?” I wriggled against him until he got the idea and moved in time with our kisses. We ground together, ever more urgent, until he made a noise somewhere between arousal and frustration.

  Having an idea as to what he needed, I worked a hand between our bodies to grip our cocks together, more points of contact and more friction. I moaned at how damn good his thick length felt against my own.

  “Oh.” His moan echoed mine. He adjusted his position so he was more on his knees, giving me more room to stroke us off together as he watched through heated eyes. A dusky flush spread across his face, and his breath came in harsh pants as he laid a hand over mine. “Let me.”

  “Gladly.” I let him drive the motion for a few strokes before withdrawing my hand so I could better feel his calloused grip.

  “Damn.” His gaze was locked on our cocks sliding through his fist. “That’s so fucking hot.”

  “Add lube, and it’s even better.” Chuckling, I pointed at the bedside table. I’d upped his lube game, and he retrieved a bottle of the good stuff, drizzling some over his hand and our cocks.

  “Fuck.” We groaned the same curse at the same moment. The lube took an already damn sexy situation to slippery perfection. Much as I wanted to last, my body gathered tension, an orgasmic blizzard already threatening.

  “Kiss me,” I demanded, and for once, Gray let me give the orders. He leaned forward for a blistering kiss, thoroughly owning my mouth. We kissed, and he stroked; he stroked, and we kissed. My world tunneled to only those two facts, a whiteout for my senses. Indeed, the storm of the century could’ve whipped through, and I wouldn’t have noticed, let alone cared.

  He kept the same steady rhythm of jerking us off together, but even without an increase in tempo, my body danced ever closer to the edge.

  “Gray.” I moaned his name, loving how his eyes went wide with pleasure. “I’m close.”

  “Wait for me,” he ordered as I’d known he would.

  Holding his gaze, I nodded. “Always.”

  As with outside in the snow, a moment passed between us. I meant it. I’d wait for him. If he gave me the least bit of encouragement that he might someday be ready, I’d wait and wait and wait because he was worth it. This thing between us was worth waiting for, and we both knew it.

  He groaned like the intensity of our connection was too much to hold. I understood the feeling. Arching against him, I sought relief from the big emotions zooming around us. We fell into another soul-deep kiss as he sped up his strokes. Digging my fingers into the muscles of his back, I clutched him tightly like a rodeo buckle was on the line. I clenched my abs and struggled to breathe, trying everything in my power to hold off.

  He’d said wait, and wait I would.

  “Now.” Blessedly, his usually iron-clad control snapped before I could. He stroked hard and fast, cock sliding against mine, kisses getting sloppy. “Come with me.”

  And I did, erupting all over his fist as he did the same, our combined come making everything so much slipperier that my cock released another few spurts at how damn sexy this was. And through it all, Grayson kept kissing me, drinking down my moans and meeting them with his own. He teased us both through the orgasm into aftershocks that left me shuddering in his arms.

  Blessedly boneless, I barely stretched as he retrieved a towel and made a halfhearted effort at cleanup. That done, he collapsed next to me and pulled the covers up around us. He gathered me close, and I gave a contented yawn, more than ready for a long winter’s nap.

  “You can’t sleep here.” Grayson didn’t release me, but he might as well have, his weary voice cutting through the delicious afterglow to make me tense.

  “I’m well aware.”

  “I don’t mean right this second,” he protested as I sat up, covers pooling in my lap.

  “Might as well have.” I pursed my lips.

  “You’re mad.” Sighing, he threw an arm over his forehead.

  “Nah,” I lied as I braced myself to head out into the cold night because God forbid anyone know I spent the night here, where I belonged. “I agreed—hell, I was the one to suggest—keeping things secret. Not your fault that I want to change the rules.”

  “I wish I could be different for you.” He sat up to rub my shoulder, but the gesture seared rather than soothed. He wanted to comfort me, yet he refused to give us what we both deserved.

  “You could.” I swiveled to give him a harsh look. “Maverick will be back soon. The guest project is gathering steam. If you’re not my boss and we’re just coworkers, why care so much about what people think?”

  “I hate gossip.” He gave the same tired excuse, and I groaned.

  “You can’t live your life prisoner to what people might think.” I was one to talk, but if I’d learned anything from sobriety, it was that people-pleasing was a slippery slope to losing oneself. Also, Gray kept citing gossip, clinging to that reason above all others, but I saw the fear in his eyes that went far beyond worry over a few rumors. “Gossip isn’t the only thing holding you back. What are you so scared of, Gray?”

  He opened his mouth as if to issue a quick denial, closed it again. Swallowed hard. Then whispered, “You.”

  “Me?” I frowned. I was the least scary person around, and I’d lie down in the nearest snowbank before I hurt him intentionally.

  “You.” He regarded me through sad dark eyes. “You not staying. You’re not meant for ranching life.”

  “Wow.” My shoulders sagged as every last oxygen molecule left my lungs. “Way to share how you really feel. I’ve only worked my ass off for months⁠—”

  “And you’ve done a damn fine job.” He shook his head like I was missing the whole point, and his agreement only frustrated me that much more.

  “I love it here. Why can’t you see that?”

  “You say that now.” He glanced away, twisting the covers in his fist, voice going softer and further away. Years away.

  “Ah. There it is.” Even though my whole body was crying out to embrace him, I forced myself to exit the bed. I couldn’t compete with the ghosts of his past. Sobriety had shown me that too. I couldn’t make him want to change, but I sure could lecture. “You can’t keep judging the world by your parents. Not everyone from the city is in a rush to get back.”

  “Experience says otherwise.” He swung his legs out of the bed to sit on the edge, watching me dress. Not stopping me, despite the clear longing in his eyes.

  “Your fears say otherwise, you mean.” I was as angry as I could remember being. I’d stayed calm in the face of the rudest of hotel guests, managed disasters and insults with a smile, shoved down endless irritation for so many years, yet I was powerless to manage my emotions around Grayson. “I’ve been nothing other than trustworthy the whole time I’ve been here. I don’t know how to make you trust me, but I do know one thing. You’re not pushing me away.”

  “We can’t go on like this.” He made a vague gesture, encompassing the bed. “You said it yourself, you want more than some secret fling.”

  “Oh, I agree. But you’re not chasing me back to LA.” I wagged a finger in his face. “I’m going to stay, and you can look at me every damn day and know how good we could be.” I stalked to the doorway of his room before pivoting to glare back at him. Damn him for not following me. “We could be so good.”

  “Adler.” He made my name into a pained plea, but no way was I letting up now.

  “You don’t believe me.” I pulled on my boots with shaking hands. “That’s okay. Maybe someday. Good night, Gray.”

  I glanced one more time at the bed, memorizing him sitting there, a helpless, lost expression on his face. Twisting his hands in his naked lap, he clenched his eyes shut. Opened them.

  “Be safe,” he whispered. He cared. That much I didn’t doubt, and that very caring frustrated me to the ends of the earth. My anger was righteous fuel as I headed into the cold for the short, frigid trek to the bunkhouse. The snow had ceased, which was good because my heart was icy enough.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Grayson

  I was a foul-tempered beast unsuited for human interaction. Hell, even the horses and cattle were sick of my mood. Not that ranch life allowed much time for wallowing. Amazingly, the stalls continued to need mucking, the horses seeing to, and the supplies ordering. Despite whatever falling out Adler and I’d had, time marched on. Maverick returned, and he and Adler were deep in the details of the dude ranch project. And if I pined terribly for Adler’s daily presence as a hand, I’d take that secret to my grave.

  Friday came around, and I was in no mood to see him over dinner at the bunkhouse, listen to him joke with everyone other than me. Accordingly, I took myself to the one place he was unlikely to turn up and planted my ass in a back booth at the Lovelorn bar I infrequently patronized.

  Hell, it had been months. Since before Adler came to town, and there I was thinking of him again as I nursed my beer. At least I was alone in my misery.

  Rather, I was alone until Jude and Colt walked into the bar. Naturally, they made a beeline for my booth.

  “What are you doing here?” I made no pretense at niceties as Colt slid in next to me. “Thought you were supposed to be basking in newlywed bliss now that you’re back from DC.”

  “Hello to you too, Gray,” Colt drawled. “Maverick’s working late with Adler on the ranch guest project. Ran into Jude at the store. He asked about my brother’s progress and suggested a beer to catch up. We don’t keep alcohol in the house right now, so it sounded like a good idea to me.”

  “You okay?” Jude took off his heavy coat and sat across from us, both of them apparently settling in for a nice, long chat. “You’ve been crankier than ever this past week or so.”

  “I’m fine,” I growled. I wasn’t fine, but hell if I was admitting that. “Just needed a minute to myself.”

  Neither took the hint, of course. Colt quickly fetched beers for himself and Jude before returning to needle me some more.

  “Friends don’t let friends drink alone, even if you don’t wanna talk about the burr under your saddle.”

  “What’s the latest on your brother?” I hadn’t had any success with my pointed looks and heavy hints, but perhaps a topic change would get me some breathing room.

  “Carson’s medical discharge is in the works.” Colt sighed and took a long sip of his beer. “The plan is to eventually move him to Denver for more rehabilitation before we can bring him home to Lovelorn. He’s got a long road ahead of him.”

  “I imagine so.” I gave a sympathetic nod.

  “I’m most worried about Carson’s mental state, to be honest.” Colt spun the glass against the tabletop, moving the ring of condensation around. “The doctors are managing his physical recovery, but he’s been super discouraged and down. I’m not sure how to help with that.”

  “When he makes it back to Lovelorn, I can hook him up with some veteran resources.” Jude leaned forward. “There’s a support group in Durango I go to sometimes. Might help.”

  “I always forget you served.” Colt sounded surprised. While we were all friendly, Colt didn’t work as closely with Jude as I did, and Jude had been a couple of years behind him and Maverick in school.

  “Million years ago.” Jude waved a hand. “Right out of high school. Needed money for college, and a recruiter convinced me that enlisting was a good way to go. Bad decision, but I got most of my undergrad out of the way while serving. Moved back to the area after veterinary school.”

  “The area is lucky to have you.” Colt undoubtedly had picked up on the fact that Jude’s military service was not his favorite topic. “I’m sure my brother would appreciate any help with finding resources. He’s already worrying over what he’ll be able to do for work.”

  “There’s always something on the ranch.” I hadn’t dealt much with Colt’s siblings, but he wouldn’t be the first friend’s brother I helped get along. “Tell Carson to worry about healing now, but between Maverick’s project and regular chores, I’d bet we could find him something.”

  “Good idea.” Colt offered a grateful smile. “You’re going to need more hands, especially with Adler transitioning to running the guest program.”

  “Yep.” I took the world’s slowest sip of my beer, trying not to bristle at the mention of Adler and likely failing.

  “Is that what’s bugging you?” Colt tilted his head. “Being shorthanded? I can talk to Mav⁠—”

  “It’s fine.” I studied the bar menu I’d long since memorized. “We’ve got the work handled. Slow season.”

  “It’s the shortest month, but February always seems to drag on.” Jude rescued me, and I seized the topic with both hands.

  “It does. Short days, long nights. Takes forever to get to spring.”

  “Not for me.” Colt frowned, fiddling with his glass again. “Maverick’s birthday is Sunday, and I’m woefully unprepared. I’ve got no clue what to do for him.”

  “Start with a cake?” Jude chuckled.

  A memory glimmered at the edges of my mind. The cowboy hat cake my mother had made that I’d mentioned to Adler. That hadn’t been the only year she’d baked a cake either, the red cake mix box showing up reliably with each birthday or special event. My dad hadn’t been much on celebrations, and I wasn’t one to buy myself cake. It had been years, yet the taste of chocolate cake batter fresh from a beater filled my mouth. I forced my attention back to Colt.

  “The girls and Faith have cake handled. They’re throwing a party for him at the house. You’re both welcome, of course.” Colt’s tone shifted from neighborly back to frustrated as his frown returned. “My issue is more about what to get Maverick as a gift. He’s maddeningly good at getting himself whatever he seems to need.”

  “Get a tattoo in his honor?” I was at a loss for what else to suggest.

  “Already done that.” Looking down at his beer, Colt flushed. “However, tattoo therapy isn’t a bad idea after all the worry over my brother. You needing some time in the chair?”

  “Perhaps,” I hedged. I’d thought on that idea a time or six recently. I could use the clarity that came with a tattoo, but hell if I knew what design to get. Every idea seemed to point back to Adler, and he was already inked across my heart. Didn’t need a permanent reminder on my skin. “Hmm. Not sure what other gifts could work.”

  “I’d suggest a pet, but between the allergies at your place and Adler dreaming up more ranch animals, that’s probably out.” Jude took a thoughtful sip of his beer.

  “No pets. No tattoo.” Colt made a frustrated noise. “I mean, I could offer to get a Maverick a tattoo, but that’s not really his style.”

  “Something romantic?” Jude used the same tone one might use when suggesting a pair of socks or a gift certificate. Like most of Lovelorn, Jude had easily accepted Colt’s coming out. No drama. No fuss. No picket lines in front of the sheriff’s office. Simply Colt and Maverick living their happy ending.

  Adler kept insisting that any gossip over us being together would be short-lived. No big deal. The thought of whispers and questioning looks made my back sweat, but for the first time, I questioned my own logic. Was I thinking with my adult brain or with the painful memories of my early teen years?

  “I need something Maverick can open in front of the girls and his sister,” Colt mumbled into his beer.

  “Romance doesn’t have to mean sex.” Jude gave Colt a pointed look, but the reminder might as well have been meant for me. Maverick and Colt’s wedding had been the stuff of fairy tales, and I’d seen the longing in Adler’s eyes. Even if I got beyond my fear of gossip, I didn’t know the first thing about romance. I could fuck Adler into next week, give him the attention and direction he craved, but romance? The tension in my back increased at the mere thought.

  “You’re right.” Colt nodded. “Something meaningful. That’s what I want. Too cold for camping, or I’d take him for a trip down memory lane.”

  “Camping equipment?” Jude narrowed his eyes like he was thinking extra hard. “A telescope for star gazing?”

  “That’s perfect.” Colt chuckled, expression softening with relief. “You’re good at the romance thing. How are you still single?”

  “Lord, not you too.” Jude let out a long groan. “Not everyone is destined to couple up. Look at Gray.”

  “Gray’s too cranky for romance.” Colt was joking, but the tease landed like a piece of barbed wire catching my heart. The truth shouldn’t bug me this much. Adler deserved someone as romantic and optimistic as he was, and that was a fact.

  “Also, the market for single people of any gender around here wishing to put up with a vet’s hours is woefully small,” Jude continued.

  “Any gender?” Colt widened his eyes, mirroring my own shock. “I didn’t know you were…open-minded.”