Love in Xxchange: Miles to Go (2 page)

“Oh, hey, you haven’t started yet, have you?”

Max thought Bo sounded almost wistful, which didn’t help Max feel any less confused.

The twitch sped up. “N-not yet, no, why?” What was Bo up to? Did he want to get together again or something? And what would Max say if he did? Last time, he’d been awful friendly, touching Max’s arm a lot and smiling almost constantly. Max guessed Bo was just one of those happy, touchy-feely types.

Bo huffed then cleared his throat. “Well, I’m about to pass through on the way to San Antonio. I thought maybe we could grab a bite, if you wanted.”

It was on the tip of Max’s tongue to say no, but the eggs didn’t look as appealing as they had a few minutes ago. And he was in one of those broody moods, the kind where he’d sit and stare at the TV or the wall and try to keep from thinking too much. Maybe getting out for a bit was just the thing he needed. Maybe.

“You don’t want to stop in and see Chance and Rory?” Max asked, still reluctant

though he wasn’t sure why. “Rory’s sister Annabelle is here now, too.” Not that she’d appeal to Bo. Rory had met Bo for the first time when Bo had been trying his best to get into Chance’s britches. Apparently they’d had something going years ago, and Bo had shown up thinking to hook up with him again. Or something. From what Rory had said, Max didn’t think Bo had been looking for anything permanent.

“Ahhhh…” Bo drew the word out then gave another of those huffing sounds. “As nice as I’m sure it’d be to meet her, I kind of didn’t feel like hanging out and watching Rory and Chance get all sweet and cuddly with each other. Green is not a good colour on me.”

Max crinkled his nose, trying to make that stupid twitch stop. He finally pressed at it with his fingertips. “What do you mean, green ain’t your colour?” Max knew jack shit about MILES TO GO

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stuff like what colours looked best with what skin tones and such. It dawned on him what Bo meant just as the man started explaining.

“I mean, I got a bit envious, seeing those two together—not that I want either one of them,” Bo rushed out. “I just…well, I guess what I mean is, I want what they have. With someone else, of course.”

Surely that sensation of something tickling down his spine was just some weird

coincidence. Or maybe he’d pushed that damned twitch down through his shoulders. Max lifted his fingertips.
Nope, still there.

“So, anyways, you up to meeting me in town? We could meet at Cowboy’s. I heard they have a great chicken fried steak.”

Max’s stomach rumbled loud enough he wouldn’t have been surprised if Bo heard it through the phone. Obviously one part of him was all for eating out. Max looked at the packaged cheese. He was pretty sure there was a funky grey-green tinge to it.

“Yeah, okay. What time?” The twitch ramped up a few tics then stopped as Bo’s

laughter filtered into Max’s ear.

“Soon as you can get here, cowboy. I’ll get us a table.”

“That sure of me, were you?” Max mumbled, but he was talking to a dial tone. He

shrugged and hung up the phone. Why wouldn’t Bo be sure of him? It wasn’t like Max had anything else going on in his life, and he remembered telling Bo almost that exact thing when they’d been hanging out before.

Cowboy’s wasn’t too crowded on a Monday night, and Max was grateful for that. The place was fairly popular with the locals, so sometimes it was packed. Max wasn’t sure he could have handled that tonight. He wasn’t surprised he was nervous; he’d never been one to get out much, preferring the company of horses and cattle to most people. At least with the animals, he didn’t have to worry about making a fool of himself, or being laughed at.

Max knew he was odd, different from most folks. He didn’t need anyone getting a kick out of it, though.

You’re being ridiculous. Ain’t like you got a sign on your head saying you’re weird as hell.
Max lifted his cowboy hat and wiped at his forehead, brushing off the sweat caused by nerves MILES TO GO

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before settling the brim just so. Then he got out of his truck and pocketed the keys. He slammed the door shut with more force than he’d meant to, and it drove home how unsettled he was. Why, though, was a mystery to him. Surely he wasn’t so set in his routine that he couldn’t alter it now and again without getting rattled.

Max took a couple of deep breaths and envisioned a layer of calmness coating him. In his mind’s eye, it was a feather-soft pinkish cloud encapsulating him. It was always pink, he reckoned because he’d read somewhere it was a soothing colour. Wrapped in his imaginary pink cloud, Max walked across the parking lot and pulled open the door to Cowboy’s. The interior of the place was over the top country, with horse shoes and old tack hanging on the walls. Along with that there was more rooster and chicken prints and figurines than should ever be in one place. But no one came here for the décor.

There was a panicked moment where he worried he had forgotten Bo’s face, but then the smiling blond man was right there in front of him, walking with a slight bounce in his step. Bo was slightly shorter than Max, who wasn’t anywhere near tall himself, but the blond had a presence big enough for a giant. He just exuded personality, and his mega-watt smile had more than one person in the place craning their necks to keep Bo in sight. If Max could have only picked one word to describe Bo, it’d have been glossy. The man seemed to shine all over, from the tip of his blond head to the toes of his red boots. Even his lips looked slick.

And why was he noticing that? Max didn’t have the chance to consider it any longer because Bo parted those lips and words tumbled out.

“Max! Glad you made it!” Bo thrust out his hand and Max was shaking it before he knew what was what. The fissure of electricity that skipped up his forearm startled him for a second before he put it down to Bo’s vibrant nature. Maybe it was like passing on a super power or something, and Max would wake up and find himself as happy as he acted like he was, or as happy as Bo was right now.

Right. And I’ll be six foot tall and solid muscle to boot. Idiot.
Max shut down the internal dialogue and returned Bo’s grin, although probably not as brightly. He didn’t have that inner glow.

“Bo. Good to see you.” Was it his imagination or did Bo’s fingers brush over his palm when they separated hands?

“Got us a booth,” Bo said, doing something with his eyes that made Max think the guy had a couple of eyelashes floating around in them. “I hope that’s okay?”

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Max grunted an assent then followed Bo over to the booth. His gaze drifted over Bo’s lean form as Max wondered what it was that made Bo so…so…
Bo.

“Didn’t know if you’d want tea or beer so I didn’t order you a drink.” Bo slid into the booth and looked up at Max. There was something in his hazel eyes, a question or doubt, Max wasn’t sure but it didn’t look right in those big eyes. “You drank some of both when we played cards and, well, I didn’t know how long it’d take you to get here.”

The smile on Bo’s faced dimmed slightly as Max remained silent. He wasn’t trying to be an ass, he was simply attempting to work out what was going on with Bo. Which was a waste of time, because he’d only met the man once and didn’t know him, not really.

“Actually,” Bo frowned and flicked a glance at the table before looking back at Max while he slid into his seat. Bo folded his hands together on top of the faded red tablecloth.

Max noticed the white tint to the man’s knuckles. Was Bo nervous? “I wasn’t certain you’d show up.”

The fluttering in his stomach had to be due to lack of food, Max decided. And as for the way his heart pinched, well of course he felt bad for worrying Bo. Max didn’t like to hurt people, not that he thought he had the power to hurt Bo, but still. He tried his easy smile and was relieved when Bo answered with a rather tremulous grin. At least it was better than a frown.

Max plucked off his cowboy hat and set it beside him. He ran a hand through his hair, smoothing it back as he politely set Bo straight. “‘Course I came. I wouldn’t have said I’d be here then not show up.” Actually, it kind of irritated him that Bo would think so little of him.

They’d spent hours talking and playing cards—
but that doesn’t mean Bo knows me any more
than I know him.
“Besides, you said chicken fried steak. Those are magic words to a hungry cowboy.”

Bo’s lips tipped up more, setting off dimples in his cheeks Max didn’t recall seeing before. “Ah, got it. If I want to spend some time with a friend who happens to be a cowboy, all I have to do is mention chicken fried steak. Shame I didn’t learn that sooner.”

The waitress appeared before Max could think of a witty reply, which was good

because his brain seemed to have shut off as soon as he saw those dimples. Why, he hadn’t a clue, but he felt warmer, too. Maybe the restaurant had the heat running, although he didn’t think that was necessary considering he hadn’t even needed a jacket this evening. He glanced up and spotted a vent but didn’t feel any heated air coming from it. Probably it was on a MILES TO GO

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timer or something then, though he couldn’t recall feeling a warm draught at all. He’d just sort of heated up from the inside out, but that didn’t make any sense. It must have had something to do with being middle-aged.

They placed their orders, waving away the menus beforehand. Max fiddled with his napkin as he waited for his glass of sweet tea to be brought out. His throat was unaccountably dry considering he didn’t feel thirsty.

Bo propped his elbows on the table, his eyes widening when it wobbled under his

weight. He jiggled it as if making sure the table would hold then shrugged. “So, Max, have you had any wild and exciting adventures since the last time I saw you?”

Max nearly snorted at that, which would have made a hell of a mess considering he’d just started to take a big gulp of his tea. Obviously Bo didn’t know him at all if he thought Max ever did anything that could be described as wild or adventurous.

Max swallowed his drink, his eyes watering when he tried not to cough as an ice cube slid right on down his throat with the sweet liquid. It was no use, and he slapped a hand to his mouth as he hacked and spluttered. Bo’s eyes lit up, the laughter starting there before it spilled from his lips.

“Sorry.”

He didn’t sound sorry to Max. Max’s cheeks burned as one of his worst fears came true.

Bo’s laughter drew the attention of the other diners, and Max wanted to melt right into the vinyl bench. Shit like this was why he didn’t want to go out much in public. He hated being the cause for other people’s amusement. Max had learned at an early age that being mocked and snickered at hurt like hundreds of tiny barbed hooks burying into his heart.

His hand trembled as he carefully set the glass down. Spilling his tea would just add more fuel to the fire of his personal hell. The best he could hope for now was a dignified exit.

Max reached for his hat even as he started scooting towards the edge of the booth, keeping his gaze averted from Bo. He muttered something about needed to go home, or at least he hoped that’s what he said. In truth, his heart was pounding so fast he could hear it clear up to his head, making him deaf to everything but the sound of his impending panic ringing in his ears. He absolutely refused to look across the table.

Which was why he didn’t see Bo move until the man was right there, blocking his exit, making it impossible for Max to stand. Max’s jaw dropped open when he looked up at Bo, then nearly hit the floor when the blond started to sit. Max didn’t have any choice but to slide MILES TO GO

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back over to the far side of the bench, pressing his shoulder against the wall there, or he’d have himself a lap full of Bo. He managed to plop his hat on the table and cringed inwardly.

His momma would have walloped his ass for that.

Max fingered the brim for a minute, trying to smother his embarrassment. His cheeks were so hot they stung, but he forced himself to cock his head and look at Bo out of the corner of his eye. “I should go.” Before he did anything else that got him laughed at.

Bo shook his head. He leaned over, his shoulder brushing Max’s, and lifted the hat off the table. A slight snap of his wrist sent the Stetson over the table and onto the seat Bo had been occupying seconds before. Bo sat back and crossed his arms over his chest.

Defensive body language.
Max had read that in one of those crime books he’d bought at the grocery store.
But what does Bo have to be defensive about? Maybe that was a load of horse shit.

Maybe it doesn’t mean anything except he wanted to cross his arms.
But when Max turned his head further to see Bo better, there was that same doubtful expression on the blond’s face, along with what Max thought was guilt. Bo’s next words confirmed it.

“I’m sorry, Max. I didn’t mean to make you feel like you had to leave. I-I didn’t know it’d upset you if I laughed.” Bo nibbled his lower lip for a second, leaving the flesh a deeper rose colour when he released it. “I honestly thought you’d laugh, too. I’m sorry.”

Some of the tightness in Max’s chest eased even as he acknowledged to himself that a normal person wouldn’t have got all butt hurt over something so stupid. It was just more proof that he was a total mess when it came to being like everyone else.

Bo nudged him and looked increasingly worried. “You know, that whole ‘laugh and the world laughs with you’ thing? I wasn’t laughing
at
you, I was laughing
with
you. Come on,”

Bo pleaded softly in a voice that seemed to feather over Max’s skin. “Help me out here, Max.

I didn’t mean to screw up. I-I was hoping we could be friends. I guess after that night we played cards and got on so well, I thought, maybe…”

Well now I feel like a complete jerk.
Max finally unstuck his tongue from the roof of his dry mouth long enough to lick at his equally dry lips. He was kind of afraid to try drinking his tea again. His voice scraped past parched tissue and sounded squeakier than he would have liked, but at least he finally got the words out.