Texas_Heat- (12 page)

Riley hadn't been inside HayesOil for a long time— maybe three or four months. The smooth ride in the elevator to the sixty-fourth floor was as quick as he remembered and little had changed since the days he'd worked in the map room and Gerald and Jeff Hayes played with the oil world like it was their own personal toy. HayesOil was different now. Slowly but surely the management team in his family's place was turning things around and for a second Riley stood and inhaled the scent of carpet and fresh paint. He was proud of what was happening here, proud of any legacy he was leaving for Hayley and her children. Then there was Jack—this is where it all started sixty-four floors above the city when he first really met Jack.

"Sir." A girl he didn't recognize approached him. "Your guests are in the conference room and everything you asked for has been made available."

"Thank you."
"I'll bring in the coffee in a few minutes, sir." "Please call me Riley. Thank you. Is my father here

yet?"
"No, but he left a message for you—to say he has
stopped off for something important." She read this from a
note in her hand. Riley wondered what that meant, but only
briefly as she began to lead them to the conference room. Ernst followed him into the large room and for a
while the men inside—Ernst, Helmes, and Masters—
exchanged pleasantries like the whole of the CH proposal
wasn't being flushed down the toilet.
"I assume you received the same paperwork and
informal chat from Josiah?" Riley directed his question
toward Helmes and Masters. Oscar Helmes simply sniffed
and waved the whole thing away.
"Bullshit," he dismissed. "Josiah has some kind of
bee in his bonnet about working with CH and he's left it
this late to jump ship so your proposal would be dead in the
water. I didn't believe a word he was peddling."
Bill Masters was a little less exuberant in his
dismissal of what Josiah had been proposing but he did sum
up the situation quite nicely.
"Didn't worry me," he said.
"None of you are as exposed to the market as I am,"
Ernst said. "I've put an awful lot of faith in young Riley's
company but if our offer is accepted and I don't see returns
in the first twelve months then you may as well kiss
goodbye to Christex."
Riley observed as Bill and Oscar looked at each
other. The three men, Ernst included, were what was left of
the old oil. Add to that Josiah, and Riley was pretty much
facing the only people of Gerald's generation left. Doubt
filtered through him. Why did he choose these four men to
get into bed with? Was it trying to kick Gerald's teeth? A
final 'fuck you' to the man who he had called dad for so
long?
"I'm assuming, Riley, that we are sitting here as a
new syndicate without Josiah's input," Oscar said. Riley nodded. "I'm not forcing any of you to take
the stance of playing on the CH team as opposed to going
with Josiah." He didn't need to say the obvious—that Josiah
had deliberately sabotaged the small syndicate and at the
last moment so that there would be no way of CH
recovering this ground. "The choice is yours. The original deal, based on my company's accurate and audited research, is here in this room with Josiah's name on it as a partner next to all of yours. Clearly he has an issue with that deal, and has commissioned his own studies to form a
new group of which I assume you three are part of." "He said you had changed the figures." Ernst was
clinging to this worry desperately. "Said his version was
some kind of original he had uncovered."
"Every step of this process has been transparent,"
Oscar interrupted. "My money is with Riley and his
consultancy backed up by the information my own analysts
assessed. I saw the work Riley used to do for HayesOil, and
even though he was never given credit, I trust his oilman's
instincts."
One down. Two to go. There was a silence and
Riley waited for who was to speak next.
"Agreed. I'm sitting this one with Riley also." Bill
sat back in his chair and visibly relaxed as he made the
decision.
That left Ernst who had his hands clenched in his
lap and was visibly tense.
"I'm thinking of pulling out all together. No CH, no
Josiah."
"That's your choice, and none of us here will stop
you from making your own decision," Riley said. In his head he began calculating what they would need to finance the gap of losing two syndicate members. His stomach sank when he realized just how much he would need to find to fill the hole. He could have managed one loss of the five, but two? He wasn't even sure changes to the syndicate at this late stage would be something the government agency would fly with, whatever kind of group they were left with after today. Fucking Josiah and his crippling move of
sowing seeds of doubt.
The door opened and his dad arrived with his mom
in tow. She was dressed as Riley remembered from the
time before she broke free from Gerald and found love
again with Jim. Before she was back with his dad and
comfortable in her own skin. For a moment Riley had an
uneasy flashback to the woman his mom had once been. In
a designer dress and pearls, the scent of Chanel entered the
room with her. All four men stood as she came in and she
nodded to all of them before approaching Bill first. "Bill, how wonderful to see you, how are Margaret
and the children?"
"They are doing well." He leaned down for a peck
on the cheek from the diminutive woman. He was all
aww
shucks, ma'am
as he explained his eldest grandson had
decided to come work with him and that he was now a great-grandaddy to a newborn that only arrived a few days
ago.
She used the same treatment on Oscar but made no
one feel like they were standing in line. Finally she pulled
Ernst into a tight hug.
"I was so sorry to hear about Vera," she said softly. Riley was attempting to not listen even as he, like
the rest of the room, were wondering what Ernst's response
was going to be. Vera, his wife of over forty years, had
Alzheimer's, which was just another pressure the older man
was dealing with.
She finally sat in one of the conference chairs and
shrugged off her jacket. Steely eyed she looked right at
Riley.
"So where are we at?"
Gone was the genteel oilman's wife and instead here
was the woman Riley knew was under the mask. As she
listened to what he said, and to what the others added, she
was nodding and asking questions the likes of which Riley
would have asked himself. Too many people
underestimated the wife of an oilman.
Finally with all the information laid out in the arena,
Sandra turned to him.
"So, how do we fix this, Riley?"
Ernst looked more comfortable with Sandra here
and there was even a faint smile on his face. Sandra had
that way about her. Not only that, but perhaps it was easier
to deal with someone from the old guard as opposed to
placing all his trust in a newcomer when there was any hint
of doubt. Riley did wonder when he would be considered
one of the old guard. When Hayley was coming up to thirty
with children of her own perhaps?
"My concern is that we are already exposed to so
much that if this went wrong…" Ernst shrugged. Sandra sipped on her coffee and looked thoughtful.
No one said anything for a second.
"Not one of us here can tell you what to do," she
began. "What was it that drew you to joining this syndicate
in the first place? Was it the chance to invest in something
different? To work with Oscar, Bill, and Josiah?" "All of those and none of them," Ernst answered
honestly. "I'd heard good things about your son long before
I met him." He turned so he faced Riley. "I remember
talking to your father." He stopped and cast a look at Jim
that screamed embarrassment. "Sorry, with Gerald, he said
you had the instincts of an oilman. I think he saw it…"
Ernst stopped talking.
"Go on," Sandra encouraged.
"As a curse. None of us ever understood why, not
until everything happened." Again he cast a look at Jim and
then at Sandra. "I trust Riley and CH Consulting, so for
what it's worth," he paused as if to consider. Riley tensed as
he waited. "Christex won't be pulling out of the syndicate." Tension unknotted in Riley's chest. With that
cleared there was only one thing to worry about—the
government board assessing the bids. They talked for a
long time and the coffee kept coming.
"We would need to approach the board and file a
change in financing," Riley said. Tapping his pen against
the papers, he considered what to say next. "We'll need new
contracts drawn up—"
"Already on it," Jim said quickly. He didn't hang
around.
"Then I guess we have nothing else to say, we just
need to start doing," Riley said. He looked at his watch.
The darkness outside the windows of the room indicated
nighttime but he hadn't realized it was that late. "We need
to formally dissolve the relationship with Josiah." "And you probably need something to eat." Riley looked up and blinked at the apparition in the
doorway. Jack with a large box of Chinese food containers.
He wasn't sure what he was more pleased to see, Jack in his worn jeans and pale blue shirt with a smile across his face
or the food that scented the room.
Nah. There was no choice to be made. Quickly he
pulled Jack into a hug and released him immediately. He
wanted a kiss but he was in a room of businessmen. Jack
smirked and then placed the containers on to the conference
table. When everyone had a carton and they were eating,
Riley glanced around at these men in their thousand dollar
suits with their Rolexes and the air of authority that
pervaded. Memories of Gerald and Jeff or not, Riley felt at
home here. The shit would hit the fan when Josiah realized
they had all sided with Riley—he was sure of it. But
everything would be okay.
Especially with his mom and dad and Jack in his
corner.

"Robbie?" Eli had almost tiptoed up to Robbie in the hope he wouldn't see him coming and thus would not be able to avoid him. Three days now and Eli's cowboy was evidently nursing a grudge as big as Texas. Robbie didn't turn from what he was doing, but he did pause midmovement with a huge steaming pile of horseshit on his shovel. For a second Eli winced. He could imagine him throwing the whole lot at him and Eli would deserve it. Robbie continued on to scoop the shit into a wheelbarrow but didn't acknowledge Eli.

"Robbie? Can we talk?" Eli said. He was trying for patience but if Robbie didn't say something soon then Eli would throw himself in the shit just so Robbie had to take notice of him.

Okay so that was a start. Right? At least Robbie was recognizing his presence. Now if only he could get Robbie to halt shoveling then that would help Eli stop focusing so much on the pull and stretch of worn jeans over Robbie's gorgeous ass and the play of muscles in his naked torso. Him not wearing a shirt should be outlawed here. What if someone else saw Robbie like this? All bare and slick with sweat?

"I got some of the cowboys from the rodeo to agree to a shoot here," Eli said firmly.
"I heard."
Still shoveling.
"Will you stop that for a minute?" Eli's voice was maybe a bit more strident than he was aiming for but at least Robbie ceased moving. Instead he placed the shovel carefully on the floor and turned to face Eli. Running the back of his hand over his forehead was poetry in motion— the muscles and the skin, and the tattoo that marked his arm, and the chest definition. Eli swore he squeaked but Robbie didn't comment.
"Yes, sir," Robbie said instead.
What the hell? Sir?
"Robbie, don't—"
"Don't what?" Robbie's voice was deceptively calm but the glitter of anger flickered in his eyes.
"Look, I'm sorry."
"About cowboys coming here for a photo shoot?"
Was Robbie being deliberately dense? "About the other night."
"We're fine," he said. His voice was flat.
Eli took a step closer. No more than three feet separated them and Eli was close enough to see how damp Robbie's hair was. The air was humid today and a storm threatened. Eli loved the crash of thunder and the spears of lightening and at least if it broke the thick heated air then the ranch would be clean and cool tomorrow for the shoot.
"No, we're not fine," Eli offered. "You're right to be angry. I didn't think. That's half my problem, I never do. I shouldn't have even said you should go in that house and meet Michael, let alone have him pawing you."
"Glad to hear that," Robbie drawled.
Eli's dick was hardwired to that curious mix of drawling cowboy and Australia. He willed the damn thing to settle down but fuck if he wasn't hard the minute he looked at this man. He took another step forward. Maybe a foot in distance now, and Robbie didn't step back. Instead he reached out and placed a hand flat on top of Eli's, which was against his chest. Just like Riley had a few days before.
"Are you okay?" he said. Concern laced his voice.
Eli shook off his hand. "What is it with people asking me that?" Consciously he removed his hand from his chest.
"Because you do that thing." Robbie waved at the hand. "You push against your heart." His blue eyes held concern and for a second Eli considered playing on the unease. Was that the way to get through to Robbie? Maybe he should faint again like a freaking girl? Get big, strong Robbie to help him to bed?
"I'm fine," Eli said.
"You looked very pale for a second."
"I said I was fine. I was just contemplating fainting."
Alarm flashed on Robbie's face and this time his hand reached out but not in a gentle touch. Instead there was a strong grip to stop Eli from falling.
"We'll get you indoors," Robbie said.
"No." Eli pulled away from the hold and stumbled a few steps back. Reaching into the pocket of his loose jeans, he pulled out condoms and a travel pack of lube. "Don't baby me and treat me like I'm gonna break. Tell me you're over the shit I pulled and take me upstairs. Fuck me into tomorrow and tell me you want me."
Eli stopped. He had run out of dramatic statements. How else could he get Robbie to take him and get inside him and around him and forgive him for being a complete idiot?
Robbie stared. He really stared. First at the condoms then at the horses then back at Eli. He took a step toward Eli and all Eli could do was move back until he felt the wall behind him. There was something in Robbie that was alternately hot and terrifying. When Robbie was finally there, bracketing his hands around Eli's head and with his mouth next to Eli's ear he was whispering.
"Here? Should I take you here? Just turn you and push you up against the wall?"
"I don't know…" For all his bravery of just coming out and saying what he wanted, having Robbie this close was unnerving. He wanted everything and he wanted it now, but he'd thought they would go upstairs.
"Jack and Riley aren't in the house," Robbie stated simply.
Eli nodded. Neither man had made it home the night before, something to do with Riley's oil business. They were probably asleep at their desks at Riley's office.
"There's no chance of them walking in?" Eli asked.
"Here?" Robbie said. He shook his head. "No. We're taking this upstairs but before that, I have a question for you."
Eli writhed in Robbie's hold. "What?"
"Do you want to fuck me, or do you want a cowboy fucking you?"
Eli didn't even register the words as their tongues twisted in a thrust and pull of taste.
Inside me,
he thought,
I want you inside me.
Robbie pressed closer and Eli couldn't stop the whimper that left him as he stopped kissing and murmured words into Eli's skin.
"I could fuck you till you beg to come," Robbie said. "I can do soft and slow where I use my hand to open you up, not just one finger, or two, but more, pushing and sliding slippery inside you? You want to kiss when we do it? Or just scream?"
"Robbie… fuck." Eli was so freaking hard and he wanted it all.
"I need to know before we do this, Eli. Do you want cowboy? Or do you want a gentleman? I can be either."
Eli processed the words. What was Robbie asking? Eli wanted hard and fast and then slow and steady, he wanted Robbie's work-roughened hands on him and he wanted to feel the smooth skin of Robbie's back under his touch. He wanted it all.
"Both," he said so gently that he repeated it in case Robbie hadn't heard. "I want the man who is both. I want you."
Robbie moved away and placed a hand on Eli's shoulder. Clearly he had passed some sort of weird Robbie test if the other man's soft smile was anything to go by.
"Hold that thought," he said. "Don't move."
Eli couldn't have moved if the barn were on fire. * * * *