Cattle Valley 28 - Second Chances (11 page)

Drake walked into the kitchen on Thanksgiving morning and stopped at the sink to give Oggie a quick kiss. “You’re up early.”
“Yeah, well, as soon as I get this one into the oven, I have two more to get ready over in the dorm.”
Drake glanced out the window and groaned. “Shit.”
“What?” Oggie lifted the washed turkey into the roasting pan.
“It’s raining.” Drake wrapped an arm around Oggie’s waist, content.
“That’s okay. Thanksgiving’s a day for cooking, eating and napping, all of which we’ll do inside.” Oggie washed his hand and stump before reciprocating Drake’s gesture.
“Yeah, but I promised Mandy I’d ride horses with her. I think she feels out of place being the only girl.” Drake had formed a fatherly bond with the sixteen-year-old over the previous weeks.
“Boy, does she have you snowed. She loves it here. Not only does she get her own bathroom, but she knows she’ll probably never have to share a room. And, she has you and half the guys here wrapped around her little finger. I’m telling you, love, she’s in heaven.”
Love.
Oggie had taken to calling Drake by the nickname and it still warmed him each time he heard it. Drake nuzzled Oggie’s neck. “I’ll tell Mandy I’ll take her riding tomorrow, so I can join you for a nap after dinner.”
“Mmm, sounds nice.”
“We are eating next door, right?” The thought of driving fourteen extra bodies out of the house after lunch sounded painful and time consuming. The group was definitely growing on Drake, but he and Oggie were still in the horny honeymoon stage of their relationship and fourteen sets of eyes constantly watching them was starting to cramp his style.
“Yep, we don’t have a table big enough.”
“Good, let’s keep it that way.” Drake gestured to the roasting pan. “Is that ready to go in?”
Oggie laughed. “You’ve never roasted a turkey, have you?”
Although it was an innocent question, it hit too close to home for Drake’s comfort. “I’ve never celebrated a Thanksgiving with a turkey.”
Oggie leaned his head on Drake’s shoulder. “I’m always sticking my foot in my mouth, aren’t I?”
“It’s not your fault that I have too many fucked up issues to keep track of.” He hadn’t shared all of his memories with Oggie, but he was getting much better at opening up. It wasn’t easy and probably never would be, but he’d ordered a book online about how to build a healthy relationship, and trust and honesty seemed to be right up there near the top.
Oggie kissed Drake’s jaw before licking his way to his ear. “I’ll teach you how to cook a turkey. Actually, it would help me out a lot. This is the first one I’ve tried since the shooting, and I guess I never thought about how hard it’d be with one hand.”
“Show me.” Drake turned Oggie around to face the countertop and pressed against him.
Oggie reached for a bowl of vegetables and a smaller bowl of green sticks and leafy stuff. “First thing you have to do is wash your hands.”
Drake shuffled both of them over to the sink and reached around Oggie to wash his hands. “I don’t know why this is necessary since I plan to have them down your pants in about five minutes.”
Oggie playfully elbowed Drake in the ribs. “Concentrate.” He handed Drake a dishtowel. “Now, this is the way my mom does it, and she’s the Queen of Butterland, so bear with me.” He held up the bowl of softened butter. “Get a big handful of this and smear it all over the skin.”
Drake’s first touch of the turkey’s pimpled skin made him shiver. “Oh, this is gross.” He continued to massage the cold bird with his lip curled in distaste. “There’s no way I’m going to be able to eat this, ya know?”
“Shut up.” Oggie picked up the kosher salt and sprinkled it liberally over the skin. “Now, give that a little rub and we’re ready for the inside.”
“Inside?”
Oggie sighed. “Forget it, I can do this part.” He inserted several quartered onions, the green leafy things and more butter into the cavity.
“Now that looks interesting,” Drake joked, reaching for the dishtowel to clean the slimy butter from his hands.
“You wanna stick your hand up there and have a feel around?”
Drake rubbed his palm against Oggie’s ass. “Can you ask me that again later?”
Oggie’s spine stiffened. “You can get that thought right out of your damn head and keep it out. I am not now, nor will I ever be, a fucking Muppet.”
Drake bit the side of Oggie’s neck. They were still learning to navigate each other’s sense of humour. “Joking.”
“Good.” Oggie squeezed out from between Drake and the counter. “Now, put that bad boy into the oven for me.”
“That’s it? There’s nothing more to it?” Drake never realised cooking could be so easy— well, except for the touching the cold, bumpy carcass thing.
“Pretty much. After an hour at this temperature, I’ll put a piece of foil over it and turn the oven down, basting occasionally with melted butter.” Oggie shrugged. “That’s it.”
“So, can we go mess around now?” Drake asked, already tired of cooking.
“No, I’ve got to go next door. I’ve have two more birds to prepare.” Oggie tilted his chin up and pursed his lips. “Give me a kiss, and I’ll hurry back over here. If you’re lucky, we’ll have time for a quickie before I have to start mixing up the green bean casserole and stuffing.”
Drake gave Oggie a deep kiss. “Next year, can we just have soup?”
“No. Face it, love, you’re part of a family that loves turkey and all the fixings for Thanksgiving.”
Drake pulled Oggie into his arms and gave him an even deeper kiss. He never wanted to let go. “Make all the fixings you want. I’ll wait my turn.”

“You made these?” Drake asked Mandy, pointing to the pies.
“Yeah, don’t act so surprised. My grandma taught me everything she knew.” “Have you ever touched the skin of an uncooked turkey?” Drake still couldn’t believe

he’d done it.
“Yeah.”
“Gross, isn’t it?”
Mandy rolled her eyes and snapped the dishtowel in her hand, hitting Drake in the

“And for that, I’m thankful,” Oggie piped in. He set a giant-sized bowl of steaming mashed potatoes on the table. “I think we’re ready.”
“Can we all hold hands for a prayer?” Joseph asked.
“Not yet. Cullen’s not down here. I’ll get him.” Oggie headed up the staircase.
Drake’s attention was drawn to the living room and the wrestling match that was in full swing. “Are they playing, or should I step in?”
“I don’t see any blood, so I assume they’re playing,” Joseph replied.
“How do you do it? I mean, I’m good at dealing with all of them occasionally, but I think I’d go crazy if I had to do it all the time.” Drake had broken up two fights since they’d been at the ranch, and he was sure others had occurred inside the dorm.
“The beauty of these kids is that they’ve never had a darn thing, so they don’t expect anything, and they appreciate everything. That’s why I love them all.”
It was a great answer, but more than that, Drake could tell Joseph really meant it. “I’m not often in awe of someone, but I can honestly say, you amaze me.”
Cullen appeared at the top of the stairs, still arguing with Oggie about coming down for dinner. “But I told you, I’m sick.”
Oggie put a hand on Cullen’s shoulder and said something in his ear. Cullen nodded and continued down the steps.
“Everything okay?” Drake asked when Oggie joined him.
“No, and I’m getting damn tired of it,” Oggie grumbled.
Drake grinned. “You sounded like a father just then.”
“Shut up.” Oggie rested his amputated arm on Drake’s back and reached for Cullen’s hand. “All I’m asking is for thirty minutes of your time,” he quietly told Cullen.
“I’m here, aren’t I?”
Yep, there was definitely a father-son relationship at work between those two, Drake thought.
The rest of the group came into the large open kitchen and circled the table holding hands. Joseph stood across from Cullen and led the prayer. “Dear Lord, Bless the food we are about to eat, and bless Oggie and Drake for opening their home to us…”
Drake didn’t hear the rest of the prayer. He was so surprised by the way Joseph included him that he couldn’t focus on anything else. Other than a few changes of clothes and his shaving stuff, Drake hadn’t brought anything else from his apartment to the ranch. Yet, he’d spent every night for weeks sleeping next to Oggie. Was he the only one who hadn’t admitted that he and Oggie were living together?
Joseph ended the prayer and everyone sat down—everyone but Drake.
“Is everything okay?” Joseph asked.
Drake shook his head. “No.” He gazed down into Oggie’s eyes. “I’m sorry, but I can’t do this, not like this anyway.” He bent and kissed the top of Oggie’s head. “I love you,” he said before leaving the room.
Before Oggie could follow him, Drake pulled the keys out of his pocket and jumped into his Porsche. His tires spun on the muddy drive for a heartbeat before it fishtailed and roared away from the ranch.
In hindsight, he should’ve handled his exit with a tad more finesse, but he couldn’t fully embrace his new life until he finished dealing with his old one. He parked in his usual spot behind Montgomery Enterprises and went through the process of getting into the secure building.
Once in his apartment, Drake pulled the trashcan over to the cupboard and cleaned out every last can of soup. Next, he started on his dresser and closet and didn’t stop until every item of clothing was stuffed into garbage bags. His phone rang when he was finishing up, and he didn’t need to look at the ID to know who it was.
“I’m sorry,” Drake said, answering the phone. “I’m coming back, but I need to take care of something first. It didn’t feel right sitting down—”
“Stop,” Oggie barked, cutting Drake off. “I was calling to tell you that I can only keep these boys away from the food for another twenty minutes, tops.”
“You’re waiting for me?” Drake slung a bag over his shoulder and headed out of the bedroom. “I figured I’d have to beg to even get back in the house.”
“I assume whatever drove you away is important. I trust you, love.”
Drake’s breath hitched in his throat. “I’ll be there in fifteen.”

Oggie heard Drake’s car pull into the ranch yard. He rose from the table and headed towards the oven. With any luck, the re-warmed dinner wouldn’t be completely ruined. He’d offered to let everyone else eat, but they—including Cullen—had agreed to wait until they were all together.

Cullen stepped up beside Oggie and peered over his shoulder. “Looks like he’s carrying trash into your house.”
“Yeah, that’s exactly what it looks like.” Oggie handed the potholder to Cullen. “Get the food on the table. I’ll be right back.”
Oggie jogged across the muddy yard to the farmhouse. He entered the living room and looked around. “Drake?”
“Right here,” Drake answered, walking into the room. He held up a framed picture. “You mind if I put this on the bookshelf next to your parents’ picture?”
His throat thick with emotion, Oggie shook his head. “No, I don’t mind at all.”
Drake nodded and carefully balanced the gilded frame on the narrow bookshelf. “This one’s my favourite.” He smiled at the photograph before turning to face Oggie. “Now everything that means something to me is in this house.”
Oggie refused to cry in front of Drake, but damn, the man made it hard. “I love you, too. Now, let’s go eat before they start without us.”
“With twelve growing men at the table, we’ll be lucky if there’s anything left,” Drake agreed.
“Men, hell. Have you seen Mandy put it away?” Oggie asked, opening the front door.
“Leave Mandy alone. She’s a good girl.”
Oggie leaned against Drake’s side. “Happy Thanksgiving, love.”
“It certainly is,” Drake agreed.

Arriving in Kansas City after a long drive from Chicago, Mike Shriver pulled into his clients’ driveway. Ray DeMonico and Brent Atwood obviously had excellent taste, and by the look of the house, a hefty bank account. The large Tudor-style home was exactly as he’d pictured it after talking to Ray for hours over the phone. He’d met the two men only once, when he’d flown in to take final measurements and contract a foundation company.

The meeting with Ray and Brent had gone well, and when a room was offered in the couple’s home for the duration of the job, Mike had taken them up on it. He got out of his pickup and opened the back driver’s side door. The backseat was full of tools, blueprints and anything else he could think of that he’d need for the projected eight month schedule.

Mike glanced over his shoulder at Brent. “Sure.” He handed Brent the rolls of blueprints he wanted to go over with the two men. “If you can get these, I’ll grab my suitcases. Is this a secure enough area to lock my tools up and leave ’em out here?”

“Probably, but Ray cleared a bay in the garage for you just in case. If you want to pull around, he’s already got the door open for you.”
“Sounds good.” Mike shut the back door and climbed behind the wheel as Brent disappeared into the house. It was hard to believe the two had not only invited him into their home for the better part of a year, but had made room for his work truck. He slowly pulled into the garage, praying the long extended-cab would fit.
Ray opened the door that led into the house and held up his hands to indicate Mike still had another foot of room. Mike nodded his thanks and put the truck in park. Before getting out, he took a moment to stare at Ray through his mirrored sunglasses. Although both men were hot, Mike and Ray had connected with each other almost immediately. Despite feeling guilty about it, Mike looked his fill before getting out of the truck. “Thanks for the space.”
“No problem. We use this bay for storage more than anything.”
Brent stepped into the garage and wrapped an arm around Ray’s waist. “I hope you’re hungry. Ray’s been cooking all afternoon.”
“Starved,” Mike said, squeezing between the front bumper and the wall with his suitcases in hand. “I thought about stopping in Des Moines, but wasn’t sure what the two of you had planned, so I decided against it.”
Ray took one of Mike’s suitcases and led the way into the house.
Mike was so focused on the fantastic smells wafting from the stove; he didn’t immediately notice Brent standing behind him. When a hand landed on his ass, Mike jumped in surprise.
“I’m glad you’re here,” Brent said, winking.
Mike’s immediate reaction was to look at Ray who was shaking his head with a resigned expression on his face.
“Sorry,” Ray said. “Brent doesn’t always know when to behave himself.”
“Don’t apologise for me.” Brent released Mike’s ass and hopped up onto the black granite kitchen island. “I know a good ass when I see one. I was just confirming my suspicions.”
Mike took off his sunglasses and set them on the counter. He wasn’t sure if he should comment or not. Ray didn’t seem angry at Brent, but he did sound embarrassed by his partner’s actions.
“As far as rooms, you’ve got your pick. We have four guest rooms or, something I thought would be even better, a studio apartment over the garage. It’s supposed to be for hired help, but with only the two of us here, we don’t need anything but a weekly spit and shine,” Ray said, moving to the stove to stir the sauce.
“The studio sounds good. That way I won’t have to be in your hair any more than necessary,” Mike replied.
Bracing his hands on the edge of the island, Brent leant forward. “The room across the hall from ours is a lot nicer.”
Ray hit the wooden spoon on the edge of the pot harder than necessary before he set it down. “I’ll help you take your things up to the studio.”
Mike wasn’t sure what was going on between the two men, but he nodded and picked up his suitcase. He followed Ray up the staircase just off the kitchen and took the opportunity to check out the man’s ass. The first time they’d met, Ray had worn a suit. Mike had to admit Ray’s ass was better displayed in the pair of worn jeans he currently wore.
The staircase opened up into a large room with a small kitchenette in one corner, a bed in the far corner as well as an enclosed space Mike assumed was the bathroom. The centre of the room held worn, but nice, leather furniture. “This is fantastic.”
“Thanks. We recently redid the family room, so I had them put all the old furniture up here. Well, except the bed, that came from my bachelor days.” Ray chuckled as he carried Mike’s suitcase towards the bed. “If that bed could talk I’d be in a world of trouble.”
The statement caused Mike’s cock to perk up. He set the second suitcase down. “Are you sure about this?”
“I’m sure.”
“Let me know if I start to wear out my welcome, and I’ll find a hotel or something,” Mike said.
“Brent made you nervous, didn’t he?” Ray asked.
Nervous wasn’t exactly the word Mike would have used. “Is there something going on I should know about?”
Ray leant back against the antique wardrobe. “Around three years ago, Brent decided he wanted to try a threesome. It wasn’t something I was interested in, but I went along with it because I was afraid of losing him.” He took a deep breath and crossed his arms over his chest. “Since then we’ve done it a few times, but never for more than a weekend. When I told him I’d invited you to stay here while the athletic club is built, he just assumed you’d spend some time in our bed. I tried to tell him it wouldn’t work because you weren’t some random stranger we could just get rid of after the weekend, but Brent argued that you were an adult and could make up your own mind.”
Mike scratched his jaw. He’d slept with more than one guy before but only once and he’d been really drunk at the time. Still… “I won’t lie and tell you the idea doesn’t intrigue me, but my brothers would kick my ass if I did anything to screw up this job.”
Ray nodded. “That’s exactly what I told Brent.”
Mike tried to wrap his mind around the situation. “Doesn’t it bother you to see him fucking someone else?”
“It nearly killed me at first, but then I realised how much he’d given up to be with me, and I knew it wouldn’t be fair to him to say no.”
“Bullshit,” Mike said, thinking of his dear friend Sidney. “When you love someone, there’s nothing wrong with wanting them all to yourself.” He’d never planned to fall in love with Sidney, but it had been hard to resist the hot little architect who worked for his brother. Even knowing Sidney was deeply committed to his partner, Nash, hadn’t been enough to stop Mike from falling head-over-heels for him. It was the foremost reason Mike had agreed to relocate to Kansas City until the health club was complete.
“I understand what you’re saying, but I think sometimes you can love someone so much you’d do just about anything to make them happy,” Ray countered.
“And does it?”
Ray nodded. “Yeah. Brent’s a completely different person for a while after we do it.”
“Different how?” Mike asked.
“Happier. He hangs on my every word and feels the desire to touch me whenever we’re in the same room together.” Ray grinned, showing off twin dimples. “It’s nice to feel wanted like that again. Maybe he was right, maybe things were starting to get a little stale.”
“So you’re okay with it now?” Mike was definitely interested in going a few rounds, but the whole situation still worried him.
“Yeah, I guess so. I mean, I’ve seen that it only makes things better between us. And, it’s nice to feel taken care of once in a while. It seems I’m always the one to top, but there are times I miss the feel of a dick in my ass.” Ray bit his bottom lip. Although Mike doubted Ray meant it sexually, the simple gesture tested Mike’s willpower.
“The most important thing to me is keeping my relationship with Brent safe.” Ray pushed away from the wardrobe and ran his hand across the front of his tented pants. “I’d better get downstairs or my sauce’ll burn. Dinner should be on the table in thirty minutes if you want to shower or anything first.”
“Thanks.” Mike watched Ray disappear down the steps before sitting on the corner of the bed. “Wow.”