“Nope. Go.” He grinned, waved his hands. “Shoo.”

  “Night, Bleu.” Stoney left him, the door closing with a click.

  “It’s good to have friends, right, Floyd?” He heard Floyd’s tail brushing on the floor. “I saved you a bite, huh?”

  Bleu fed a morsel to Floyd, careful because that was a lot of nightshade.

  He sighed softly and turned on his tablet. Music filled the air, and he leaned back, letting the sound pour over him. The rest was just water under the bridge.

  RYAN woke up the next morning feeling sore and grumpy.

  He glanced over at Phil’s bed, but the man was gone. Probably off to see if Dan was at breakfast. The idea of a rich, hot Santa Fean really revved his engine.

  Not that Ryan could even be pissed. Phil had been decent, had listened to him until the wee hours, had kept all his clothes on.

  Too bad he wasn’t Bleu.

  Rising, Ryan decided to grab a shower and then head up to the kitchen to beg a not-public meal. If he was lucky, there would be a certain Texan doing the same.

  He just needed the chance to explain.

  A hot shower had him in a better mood in moments. He dressed for warmth, because his smartwatch said it was just fifteen out there.

  At least two feet of snow had fallen overnight, and the cowboys had been out shoveling, obviously. There were paths carved out and little ski poles marking the path, their rainbow ribbons waving in the breeze.

  He stomped the snow off his boots before climbing the steps, which had those heated ice melters on them. That was an excellent idea. Tapping lightly before he entered was the polite thing to do, but Geoff met him with a smile.

  “Hey, Ryan! Come on in!”

  “Thanks. Woo, it’s chilly.”

  “You know it. Oatmeal? I have that and cinnamon rolls.”

  “Oatmeal, I think. I’ll take a cinnamon roll for the road.” The kitchen table always looked so inviting, scarred and golden with age. Ryan sat, leaning back a little when Geoff put coffee in front of him. “Have you, uh, seen Bleu?”

  “Not yet. He hasn’t peeked in. He will. He’ll need coffee.”

  “If he doesn’t show soon, I’ll go get him. That path is icy.”

  “Good deal.” A cup of coffee and a bowl of oats appeared in front of him. “Milk and goodies are on the table.”

  “Thank you.” He beamed at Geoff, though the poor guy looked a little harried.

  “What can I do? You look stressed.”

  “Tiny threw his back out shoveling last night. I’m gonna be in the weeds if he doesn’t get up and about.”

  “Well, I’m no chef, but I can chop and carve meat.”

  “You are a guest, Ryan.”

  “So? I’m not doing anything right now. I can deliver room service if you need. I have great snow legs.”

  “Oh, you’re a love. I swear to make you anything you want for lunch.”

  Oh. Oh, what had Bleu said he’d loved so much? “Sausage and onion flatbread?”

  Geoff cackled like a raven. “Bleu’s favorite.”

  “Make that and I will do anything you need.” There. Now he could make Bleu come to lunch with him so he could tell the man all about Phil.

  “Fair enough. Eat your breakfast, and I’ll get your help.”

  Ford came bustling in, arms full of empty platters. “Here for a refill, man.”

  “What do you need?”

  “Toast and bacon.”

  “You got it.”

  Ryan ate his breakfast fast, genuinely wanting to help Geoff, who was slinging bacon onto trays. He jumped up as soon as he was done, grabbed bread to stuff in the line of toasters. “Do I butter?”

  “Please. Thank you.”

  Ford chuckled. “Putting your ass to work, is he?”

  “I volunteered.” Ryan grinned. “I’m begging a special lunch, and he told me Tiny was out.”

  “Yeah. Too much preshoveling sex.”

  He hooted. “At least someone is having it.”

  Ford didn’t say anything, but when Ryan glanced over at him, he turned bright red.

  “Yeah, yeah,” Geoff muttered. “Both of you shut up.”

  “Hey, I had exactly as much sex as you did last night, man.”

  “I bet my dry spell is the longest.” Geoff threatened him with a spatula.

  “Yeah, that might be so.” His wasn’t… prodigious.

  “I plead the fifth,” Ford murmured. “I’m going in. Can you bring toast, Ryan?”

  “You bet.” He buttered the first stack after putting in more bread.

  It was comfortable, working with Geoff, side by side. He liked it. This was part of what he was trained to do, right? Outdoor recreation had a hospitality element to it.

  Hell, he just wanted something to do until he could talk to Bleu.

  When he got back from delivering toast and avoiding Phil, Geoff had a whole set of trays for him to deliver. The best part was the insulated pizza bag he could carry all the domed dishes in.

  He hadn’t had so much fun in a while, and he met a bunch of men he wouldn’t have otherwise, and got three phone numbers on the way.

  Not that he needed them.

  “Hey, Bleu called in, and I have his oats and all,” Geoff said. “You want to deliver?”

  “God yes. You’re a prince, Geoff.”

  “I added an extra cup of coffee and cinnamon roll. You’re off duty. Quartz is on now.”

  “Thanks.” He gave Geoff a hug, because Geoff was an exceptional hugger. Bleu couldn’t say no if he was on delivery, right?

  Right. Okay. Go see Bleu and explain.

  He headed down to the cabin and tapped on the door. Come on, Bleu. Open up.

  The door swung open, Bleu standing there in a pair of tiny sweats and a trashed Sesame Street T-shirt.

  “Hey, babe. Geoff sent breakfast. They’re shorthanded, so I helped.” He held his breath, waiting to see what Bleu was up to.

  “Oh. Thank you. Come in.” Bleu stepped back to let him through the door. Floyd was curled up by the gas fireplace, and he got a single wag.

  “Hey, Floyd.” He set the bag on the table so he could unload. “Okay, I’m going to start before you politely send me on my way,” Ryan said, lifting domes off plates. “Phil and I haven’t been together for six months. He was hoping for a booty call.”

  “I—” Bleu’s expression was pure shock. “You… you don’t have to explain.”

  “Yes, I do, because I don’t want you to run off after the party and never speak to me again. I knew he was coming, but we’re only sharing a cabin because they’re so full up. I actually thought about getting him a hotel in Aspen when Ford told me they’d put us together.”

  “Oh. That-that’s really good to know. Really.” Bleu reached out, fingers searching for him.

  Ryan took Bleu’s hand and drew him close. “I’m sorry I didn’t come last night. Phil is… well, he’s a force of nature, and it took me a while to explain everything.”

  “It’s okay. You don’t have to explain to me.”

  “Yes, I do. I wasn’t leading you on yesterday. I want to spend time with you. I want to get to know you again. Phil misunderstood me not kicking his ass out. He wants to meet Dan.”

  “Dan? Dan’s in Aspen with a booty call, I think. He isn’t here.”

  “Oh, well, Phil is never really lonely.” He chuckled, then hugged Bleu. “Hungry?”

  “I am. Uh… have you eaten?”

  Oh. Okay, that wasn’t a “please leave.” That was “can you stay?”

  “Geoff sent me a cinnamon roll. Is it okay if I stay?”

  “You can. I’ll start the fire and warm it up in here.” Bleu tapped along with his cane to the fireplace and turned it on easily.

  “Thanks.” He set breakfast up on the little two-seater table. “Oats and all the good accompaniments. Cinnamon roll. Fruit.”

  “Coffee?”

  “Yep. This one is yours. Smells good too.”

  “Yum.” Bleu joined him at the table easily. “Thanks.”

  Bleu explored the edges of the bowl, then found a spoon.

  “Do you want nuts and cinnamon sugar? Blueberries?”

  “Yeah. Everything.”

  “Even the cream?” he teased. He knew Bleu liked cream in his coffee and whipped, but not really in oats.

  “No. No cream, please. That’s not good.”

  “I know, babe. I had to make a little fun.” He stirred in fixings before handing over the bowl. “Ta-da.”

  “Thank you.” Bleu took a spoonful and ate a bite, humming softly. “Oh, that’s nice.”

  “It is. I ate a bowl, and now I will have dessert.” He took the dome off the bigger of the two pastries.

  Bleu inhaled deep. “Cinnamon rolls.”

  “Uh-huh. I have one for you too.” Geoff was such a romantic.

  “Cool. I love that smell.” Bleu licked his spoon. “It’s warm and homey, but a little exotic too.”

  “The cinnamon makes my nose tingle.”

  “Yeah?” Bleu put the bowl down and picked up his coffee, then drank deep.

  “Are we okay, babe?” He needed to hear it.

  “I just… I made assumptions.”

  “What kind? Because I was giving strong signals. I just—Phil took me by surprise. We went out with a whimper because we were never serious, so for him to be all booty call ready was a shock.” He wanted Bleu to know he was totally ready for assumptions.

  “Yeah? If Dan asked me for one, I’d probably be shocked too. We stopped sleeping together long before we broke up.”

  Okay, that was unexpected. Endearingly honest.

  “Phil and I could have sex, but we never talked about anything but business.” Ryan answered honesty with the same.

  “I could talk to you for hours about everything, whether or not we had sex.”

  No one had ever said anything more wonderful to him.

  “Thank you. I feel the same way.” He reached over to touch Bleu’s hand, and Bleu met him, touching his palm with a careful caress.

  All he could do was hum, wanting more but not willing to push too hard.

  “Of course, I really want to have sex, Ry. Wild, passionate monkey sex.”

  “Me too.” His heart started to race. “With you.”

  “Yeah. I remember it fondly.”

  “Fondly?”

  “Warmly?” Bleu began to grin.

  “Cordially?” he asked, laughing.

  “Desperately.” Now that sounded more like it.

  “Now?” Hopeful. Ryan was going for hopeful.

  “Do you mind that my bed isn’t made or that I have coffee breath?”

  “Not one bit.” He didn’t care about any of that. “I have cinnamon mouth. It’ll be great.”

  “You should kiss me. What if it doesn’t work between us?” Bleu couldn’t tease worth a shit.

  “Oh, right, maybe it’s changed.” Ryan leaned over the table to press his lips to Bleu’s.

  It took a second, like they were both in shock, then Bleu reached up and cupped his jaw. They tilted just so, and damn if they weren’t all lit up, all of a sudden.

  He scooted around the table, needing to get closer, needing to touch. Right now.

  “Ryan?” Bleu sounded worried, and Ryan realized he’d pushed back Bleu’s chair and everything was a little precarious.

  “Sorry. Sorry, but only if I scared you. Not for the kisses. Come sit on the bed with me.”

  “Uh-huh. Bed. God, you taste good.”

  He rose, then tugged Bleu up before sorta dancing them to the bed. Ryan loved to dance with Bleu, but there were things he liked more. Currently he was voting for nudity and lots of rubbing.

  “This is the cutest shirt ever,” Ryan said while he eased it off over Bleu’s head.

  “Is it? I love how soft it is.” Bleu’s nipples were tight, hard, begging for his touch.

  He wasn’t going to disappoint, either. Ryan pinched them both, a promise of sorts. That earned him a gasp and the prettiest little blush. The way Bleu twisted to get away, then get more, made him smile. “Pretty man.”

  Bleu reached for him, hands sliding up along his arms toward his face. He stilled, knowing Bleu wanted to see him before they moved on. Some things didn’t change. Bleu’s fingers moved over his face, finding his mouth, his nose, his eyes. The touches were sure, curious, and familiar.

  He smiled wider, closing his eyes to let Bleu explore. God, he’d missed this.

  “Beautiful. I could sculpt you for hours.”

  “Maybe later? Touch me now instead.” Ryan kissed Bleu’s fingers.

  “Later.” Bleu wrapped his hands around his scalp and drew him in for a kiss.

  He kissed that sweet mouth, pressing inside with his tongue. He wanted to taste Bleu again, and Bleu was more than willing, opening right up for him with a low moan.

  They kissed slow and long, learning angles, touching here and there. It was like making out with your high school sweetheart, except he didn’t have to worry about his dad finding him.

  Not at all. Maybe Phil and Dan…. He shook off that thought as a horror movie idea.

  “What? What’s wrong?” Sensitive little fucker.

  “Oh, I had a vision of Dan and Phil bursting in.” Might as well be honest. “It gave me a shudder.”

  “Lock the bedroom door. He’s sleeping in the other room anyway.” Smart.

  Ryan got up to lock the door. “How did you get a two bedroom and I got stuck with my ex in a double queen?” He knew how. They’d thought he and Phil were still together.

  “I’m special. Sparkly. Charming. All the good things.”

  “Uh-huh.” He sat back down, sticking his cold hands against Bleu’s ribs.

  “Oh!” Bleu’s eyes went wide and he arched, lips parted. He swooped in and took a hard kiss.

  “Mmmph.” He did love to laugh when he was making love.

  Bleu was all over him, hands stripping his clothes away. He’d forgotten how good Bleu was at this, how easy the man was in his skin.

  Ryan was hard and aching, his body ready for the main event even as his brain wanted him to take his time.

  “I can smell you.” Bleu climbed into his lap and rubbed them together.

  “Well, I want you, so that’s good, right?” He gripped Bleu’s ass.

  “Uhn.” That worked as a yes. Bleu’s belly pressed against his chest, the connection between them fiery.

  God, this was still as good as it ever had been. Bleu had a few more ropey muscles now, a little more body fuzz. A couple of hot little scars that proved Bleu’d been living.

  Ryan traced one with his fingers. “What happened?”

  “I got hit by a motorcycle that ran a light.”

  “Oh God. Was it bad?” The scar itself had to have hurt, but broken bones and such were always worse.

  “It wasn’t fun, but I made it. It all happened very fast.”

  “I bet. I collided with another boarder once, and I came right out of my boots.” He moved his fingers to Bleu’s hip.

  “Scary. You go fast.” Bleu stroked his nipples before pinching lightly.

  “I do.” He’d been in the hospital for two weeks. He wasn’t going to ruin the mood.

  “We’ll count scars after we fuck like rabid bunnies, fair?”

  “Sounds like a plan, babe.” He pushed Bleu down on his back.

  Bleu stretched out for him, unashamed, lovely. Hard as a rock.

  Ryan had to grab that thick cock and stroke it a few times. Bleu arched into his hand, driving up into his fingers like he needed nothing else in all the world.

  “So pretty, babe. You’re so damn pretty.” Did that even mean anything to Bleu?

  “God, I love how I look in your voice.”

  “Yeah? You’re stunning to me.” No one had ever been as amazing.

  He leaned down and licked, his tongue dragging along Bleu’s shaft, the flavor exploding over his tongue.

  “Oh! Oh, hello.” Bleu arched and twisted for him, one hand landing on his head. “Missed you.”

  He had a million words. Good thing he had his mouth full so he didn’t spill them. Not yet.

  Besides, Bleu could feel how Ryan needed. He knew.

  He stroked, fascinated by the sight of Bleu’s cock appearing and disappearing between his fingers. He lapped around the tip, traced the slit with the tip of his tongue.

  Bleu cried out, the sound almost musical.

  He nuzzled and licked, drawing more and more of those sounds from his Bleu. Ryan wanted all of them, didn’t want to share them with anyone else down the line.

  “Making me dizzy. Don’t stop. God, Ry. Don’t stop.”

  “Mmm.” No way. He tugged the heavy balls, then stroked Bleu’s thighs, spreading his lover wide. Bleu moved easily, trusting him. He wanted to lick and suck every part of that fine body. He nuzzled the white-blond curls, tugging them with his teeth.

  “Ryan!” Bleu tried for scandalized, he thought, but didn’t make it.

  “Uh-huh?” he teased.

  “Do it again.”

  “Okay.” He tugged, pressing his chin against Bleu’s balls.

  Bleu arched up toward him with a happy little cry. So tactile and responsive. Those rough fingers tangled in his hair, stinging his scalp.

  He groaned, climbing back up Bleu’s body to steal another kiss, another bite.

  Wrapping around him, Bleu made this joyful noise, licking at his lips. He’d forgotten this—the open, eager sounds, the way Bleu threw himself into their lovemaking.

  They rocked together, cocks sliding one against the other—slick and hot. Bleu hooked one leg around him, dragging them alongside each other.

  He moaned, needing more kisses. Ryan loved how Bleu tasted, loved every little uneven breath. Bleu rolled them, ending up straddling his waist, hands dragging down his chest.

  “Bossy!” He laughed, stretching out long.

  “Need to see. You get to see all the time.”

  “I’m right here for you to explore.” Anything, anytime.

  Bleu’s expression went sharp then, and those hands began to map him. Face and neck, shoulders, chest—God, no one touched him like this.

  “You’re bigger, but not. Does that make sense?”

  “I’ve put on more muscle. I had to. I’m not twenty anymore.”