Chance of the Heart (11 page)

Chance looked startled. Bradley had forgotten that was another way they’d known each other, Chance’s parents being church members, Chance probably having been baptized there. Bradley amended, “No, I don’t mean he doesn’t believe. He definitely believes in the things he says. Unfortunately, he went from pure faith to believing his own hype. So watching that kind of derailed mine and Heather’s faith.”

“I guess I never really thought about it.”

“Sorry, I know you probably still attend services.”

“Only every once in a while. Not like anyone notices anyways since there’s about two thousand people and all.”

“True. Anyways, yeah. College was good. I liked it. I made some dumb decisions. First and foremost being dating about a dozen losers. But I feel like I’m better for it.”

Chance grunted.

“You know I’m not… Chance I don’t think you have to date a million people. Look at all the people around here who’ve done just fine with the same way of life that’s been Hope Springs since it was founded.”

“I know. I didn’t think you were going on about me. Although it does speak to my situation.”

Bradley felt he had a much better grasp of Chance’s “situation” after today. It answered so many questions as to why the guy seemed like he’d lived in a bubble. Because he
had
. Yes he’d gone to public school. But his friends were all like-minded. His dad had kept him on a tight leash. He hadn’t done more than a couple years of community college and now, knowing he’d saved every penny by barely ever leaving the ranch, Bradley ached for all the guy had missed out on. But it was Chance’s life. And a good friend would let him figure out what to do on his own.

“So why aren’t you going ahead with the restaurant? I’ve not seen you that excited about anything. Ever.” Okay, so the guy could figure it out on his own, but a good friend could nudge a little here and there.

Chance’s sigh carried on the wind, sadly. “It’s not like I’d get to enjoy it. The point of having the restaurant would be being able to cook there. But all my time goes into this land.”

“But you love cooking.”

“And I love my family.”
Touché.

“But they love you too. They’d want you to be happy. You love horses and the ranch, I know, but it seems more like a hobby.”

“You don’t get it,” Chance snapped.

“I guess I don’t,” Bradley responded, primly. He didn’t know why he’d pushed.
Way to
nudge
asshole.

“Sorry,” Chance said, deflated. Bradley didn’t want to say anything else. It looked like Chance was on the verge of speaking again and Bradley didn’t know what to say. They’d been having such a good time. He hadn’t meant to ruin it.

“Becket son after son has taken the reins of Red River since my great-grandfather bought the land right after he finished fighting in World War I. I didn’t meet the man but his legacy is the family pride,” Chance said. He’d jumped up and paced a couple times, not looking at Bradley.

“But it didn't take long for the idea of being stuck right here for the rest of my life to make my collar tighten to feel like a noose. I don't know what point it’d started but definitely over the last year or so. If I'm honest, it was probably about the time the legal papers had been drawn up naming me sole owner of the actual ranch and its lands when my parents pass on. My brother will just be a minority profit sharer. I first felt a moment of 'oh shit' when Daddy signed on the dotted lines. Hell, Caitlin was surprised when I didn’t invite her to the party celebrating the change and my brother’s first year of success at his own ranch. I told her it was a small party, but mostly it was because I didn’t much feel like celebrating. That's when the worst three words popped in my head for the first time in my life and took over every other waking thought.”

Bradley wanted to offer some comfort, but what could you say? You could tell someone over and over to take the reins back. But he grew up here, too. It just wasn’t done. He’d only severed the ties by coming out. And Chance was nowhere near ready to do that. Maybe in a couple years he’d be there, he was definitely chafing enough to do it. But by then his parents would see him married off with a kid on the way.

“What three words?”

Chance finally looked at him, his tone forlorn as he said,“Is this enough?”

Bradley shuddered. He ached for Chance but there were no words. Chance was trapped in an ages old dilemma and because he probably had less world experience than most, he’d have to figure it out for himself. Bradley had no advice because no way was his situation exemplary.

Not for the first time, Bradley had the strange feeling Caitlin may have figured out Chance’s reasons for being unhappy before Chance had, though. No one knows you’re gay so well as the person you’re having sex with. Or not having sex with, as it were.

He left those thoughts behind because he really couldn’t think about that. He felt lost. Couldn’t imagine how it was on Chance’s end. When he glanced back at Chance he noticed something there. A need to be comforted. It was a hunger of a different kind, the need to be held and told it was going to be okay.

But before Bradley could give into it, Chance’s phone rang. Which was definitely a good thing. He may not be able to abandon Chance right now but he’d definitely be wise to not touch Chance again. He wouldn’t be able to bear it if Chance regretted it. Plus, soon he’d be gone to bigger and better things because Chance was a prime example of what happened to you if you were gay in Hope Springs.

Resignation fell over Chance, from posture to expression, when he looked at the display of his phone. He held up a finger and walked off. Not before Bradley heard the “Hey, Caity. It’s been a while…”

And now Bradley’s mood was done in. The ride had been nice but it was time to get back home. The bubble they’d been in was officially breeched. And he knew there was no getting it back.

When Chance came back to find Bradley saddled up, holding Rocket’s reins he only nodded, mounted, and led the way home.

Bradley’s phone buzzed.
Can you check over these final figures from the bank for me?

Of course. Off in ten.
Bradley responded just in time for his father to walk in. Of course.

“Is that what we’re paying you for?” As usual his father sounded more bored than anything. He’d have to show emotion to admonish Bradley. Heaven forbid he be anything other than a cold bastard.

“To what do I owe this pleasure?” Bradley drawled. “I’ve seen you twice in as many weeks. God surely is good.”

“Don’t be blasphemous. It’s beneath you.”

“It’s always a joy sparring with you Reverend, but is there anything I can help you with in particular?”

His father placed a leather portfolio on his desk. “I don’t like the numbers you came up with on the quarterly.”

Bradley picked it up, scanning the red pen marks. He raised a brow as he glared at his father. “Graded by the Reverend Heart and failing as usual.”

“Graded by your
employer
and found lacking, Bradley.”

His hackles raised but he didn’t retort.
One, two, three…
“I don’t know what you want me to do, sir. These numbers took three weeks of shaking down Debby and the deacons. They don’t want to give and if you refuse to we’ll not have the budget for this summer’s construction. Though why the compound needs another wing…”

“Must you call it the compound?”

He fell back in his chair. “Either way, you’ll have to find a budget you can live with or give up the new construction. Because while you are my employer, I’m merely your accountant. And seeing as you’ve fired every business manager, whose duties this would usually include, I’m holding my ground. This isn’t in my contract so if you fire me for it, so be it. The end.” He said each word carefully. His father nodded and Bradley thought he may see grudging respect there. Not many people stood up to the good Reverend. Bradley had enough savings he could live meagerly unemployed for a few months. His patience was worn thin.

“Very well.” His father turned to leave again. Then awkwardly asked over his shoulder, “Everything okay? Outside of work?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Is the cottage in need of anything?”

“No, sir. Ronaldo came and did the touch up painting. Otherwise, everything is good.”

“Good, good. Well. See if you can do any more finagling with Debby. I know she can be… difficult.”

Bradley watched his father’s retreating back. He wished the old man wouldn’t even try to be civil. It was more awkward than the official freeze out they’d maintained for years. But Bradley had the feeling his sister was giving the Reverend hell. Which he’d explained was entirely unnecessary, to which she’d said it wasn’t for Bradley’s sake, but for hers. She’d liked having him around even if they didn’t get to spend much time together. They managed lunch every once in a while and he’d gone to her oldest son, Cody’s T-ball games when he could get out on time.

When it was time to head out, he shot Chance a text to let him know he was on the way over. In the two weeks since their ride to the river, they’d done a couple more number crunching sessions. They always ended the afternoon with a beer and stories from their days of competing with the AQHA. It was an easy friendship so long as they didn’t stare too long or get to talking about Chance’s closet. Chance had apologized for saying so much that day.

“I’ve never said those things to anyone. So. Thank you for listening.”

“What are friends for, man?”

But Chance seemed a little freer since he’d lanced that boil. Not that he seemed to be making any decisions, though Bradley noticed every time they got together the folder with the restaurant information had gotten a little thicker, a little more worn. Maybe baby steps were best. Not kid gloves, as Bradley was brutally honest about each option, but baby steps like sliding restaurant supply options and auction information in the folder on the sly and letting Chance absorb each thing on his own time.

Alas, they were drawing near an end to their need to see each other under the guise of business. And while they weren’t fucking, it was obvious they’d grown dear to each other. After a long day, too much food and a few too many beers, Chance had asked if it was worse that he was so much more fond of Bradley than anyone else, if they weren’t actually cheating without the sex. He’d fallen asleep before Bradley could tell him that most people would think it was worse than a physical affair.

But he wasn’t cheating, he’d reasoned. They were on a break. Didn’t mean the break didn’t come with an expiration date and Chance was biding his time way too much for someone who was so confused.

Bradley felt for the guy, but he couldn’t do more than he already had. Yes, he was probably entirely too fond of Chance now, but they were at an impasse. All Bradley could do was hope Chance would eventually make Chance happy. And Bradley would make Bradley happy by finishing up the contract with his Dad’s church and leaving Hope Springs with the lovely savings he’d stockpiled during his stay. August couldn’t come soon enough, even if he would miss Chance terribly.

He threw his messenger bag in his Jeep and started her up. The excitement he felt knowing he’d see Chance was only a minor inconvenience at this point. A fact of life. Take it or leave it, he cared about that man.

When he arrived at Chance’s house, he felt the smile stretch his face before Chance even opened the door to his loft.

“Hey, you,” Chance said when he let Bradley inside.

“Hey. What’s up? Ready to roll up our sleeves and get dirty?”

Chance’s blush was sweet. He loved to drop a double entendre when he could, just to see those pinked cheeks he knew would show themselves. He didn’t abuse this knowledge because Chance clearly hadn’t figured him out, but every once in a while he toyed with him.

“Yeah. Want a beer? I’ve got that disgusting IPA shit you like.”

Bradley dropped his messenger bag on the couch and collapsed on it. “IPA please.” Chance came in from the kitchen, passing him one, plopping on the sofa beside him.

“I made  chicken parm if you want some. Should be ready in about twenty minutes.”

Bradley sighed inwardly, trying hard not to enjoy how domestic the moment was. Him getting home from work, Chance in holey sweats and a shirt that had been cut at the midriff for practicing football. The V leading from the man’s golden, flat tummy was like a magnet. Damn but he wished he didn’t have firsthand knowledge of what it felt like under his tongue.

“Sounds great,” he choked out.

They’d just pulled out folders and the laptop when someone knocked on the door. Chance shrugged and went to answer. Chance’s mother. Well at least that’d get his mind off how perfect the pert globes of Chance’s tight little bubble butt looked in those sweats.

“Bradley, sweetie! I’m sorry, I didn’t realize y’all were working.”

Bradley smiled. “It’s not a problem. We hadn’t even gotten started yet.”

“What’s up, mom?” Chance asked.

“It smells good in here,” she said. Chance didn’t invite her in.

“You want me to plate some for you to take for you and dad? I made way too much.”

“No, no. I just saw that Bradley’s car was here and wanted to come say hello.”

“Hi, Mrs. Becket,” he said, waving in her direction. Her son looked so very much like her it was striking. She also had fine cheek bones, a button nose, and stood taller than most women. She was fit for a woman in her fifties, but Bradley knew she’d been as active on the ranch as any of the men in her family. Her hair was slightly grayer than when he’d last seen her, but it was still long, almost black and in a thick braided ponytail that rested over one shoulder. She didn’t have those ice blue eyes, though. None of the other Beckets did, only Chance.

“I just wanted to make sure you knew you are certainly expected at our party this weekend,” she said.

“Party?” Chance and Bradley asked in unison, then chuckled at each other. Chance’s mom smiled at them. He wondered if she’d be as
Aw shucks aren’t y’all cute together
if she’d know they’d
been together
.

“Of course. Caitlin’s parents asked if we’d have the graduation party for her here. Naturally we said it’d be fine. We have enough room to throw a party for her whole graduating class. But that’s neither here nor there.”

Bradley quailed and looked to Chance who’d gone white. “Oh, that’s this weekend?” he asked, shooting an almost accusatory look Chance’s way. It was the Wednesday of the week Caitlin was coming home and Chance didn’t think that’d been important information?

Chance shrugged, obviously not knowing himself. His mom laughed at him. “Men, I swear. Can’t remember anything.”

“Yeah,” Chance said, laugh sounding strained. His mom obviously didn’t catch it because she kept rattling on.

“It’s just so great you’re back helping at the church. It’s been so long and I’m sorry I’ve just gotten around to saying a hello. It stays so busy around here. And what with Darryl being sick, I don’t get much time for being neighborly.” She looked at Chance. “You should really go to the house and see your daddy. It’s been two months. You should be ashamed.” The blush wasn’t so cute this time. “Anyway, Bradley, invite your sister and your daddy too. The more the merrier. And I insist you come. You’ve been helping Chance out so much with his money, it’ll be our little thank you.”

With a whirlwind of kisses on cheeks she was out the door. Chance looked back to Bradley, exhaustion on every feature.

“We can do this another time,” Bradley said, woodenly.

“No. No, we’ll finish. I’ve got a check for you too, for all your help.”

Bradley was surprised. He was even more surprised when he saw the amount. “Woah, this is way too much!”

“Bullshit. You’ve done the work of three men on top of your work for the church. You earned it. Plus it’s like ten percent.”

It was a helluva ten percent.

“Please. I want to do this.” Bradley’s chest ached at the earnest tone, the imploring face. “It’s honestly the least I can do.”

Bradley was silent a moment, staring at the large hand Chance had placed on his knee. The warmth spread from there, right to his core. “Okay, yeah. Thank you,” he said thickly.

“Ok, then. It’s settled.” Chance sounded a little hoarse himself before getting up and walking toward the kitchen. “I’ll just get more beer.” So they weren’t going to discuss the elephant in the room. It was probably for the best they didn’t. They needn’t even really hang out after tonight, as Chance wouldn’t need his advice after they finished up.

“How ‘bout you bring the whole case,” he said, only half-joking. Chance gave a weak smile, probably thinking the same thing. This was it. Caitlin would be back. Free time would be for her.

Chance brought the whole case.