Texas_Heat- (6 page)

* * * * "Jeez. What did you say when he told you?" Jack asked. Eli had cancer? That wasn't what Jack had expected as the outcome of his husband meeting Eli for lunch.

"I didn't say anything. What could I say? He trusted me with the news and I think he wanted me to just go with the flow. So we did. We talked a lot about you. I think he has a small crush on you. We just carried on like it's every day someone you know lays having cancer on you."

"Cancer is harsh," Jack commented.
"The way Eli explained it made it all sound so simple. But it seemed as we chatted that Eli was alone when it happened. He was out of college and not in touch with friends, not in touch with me, and with his mom and dad who didn't give much of a shit about anything but themselves." Riley sounded alternately sad and remorseful. "If I'd known—"
"He didn't tell you. How could you have known?" Jack tried to be the sensible one.
"I never should have been such a child over Lexie. He told me I was treating her like shit, cheating on her, and we argued."
Jesus, Riley was so hard on himself.
Why did he do that? What purpose did it serve to beat himself up over not being there for a friend so many years ago.
"I know. You said when he first visited," Jack commented in summary.
"I was a dickhead."
"Riley." Jack said the single word with a note of warning and Riley subsided to looking into his coffee cup morosely. Sometimes all Riley needed was to be told not to think a certain way. Not that Jack assumed it immediately impacted his husband to stop worrying. It did, however, reset Riley's worry so that he could break the cycle of beating himself up over things. Amazing how much you learned about people in a few years. Like Riley knew that standing in Jack's way had the effect that Jack's temper went from boiling to merely simmering. Words wouldn't stop the temper but Riley physically blocking Jack always did.
Jack's cell rang and he scrambled to reach it before the requisite four rings took it to voicemail. He'd been expecting a call from Neil about Daisy, who was really unsettled despite this being the second week since she arrived.
"Hello?" He answered quickly. He hadn't even looked at the screen. He listened for a few minutes and watched as Riley was checking his cell phone for messages, the tall man slouching so he could lean on the side counter.
"Mr Campbell-Hayes, I'm so pleased to reach you directly. My name is Frank Templeton and I am on the committee for the Texas Gay Rodeo Association. Maybe you have heard of us?"
"I have. How can I help?"
"Mr Campbell-Hayes, we have a proposition for you."
Jack listened. He heard every word that Frank Templeton said, but he wasn't sure they had the right man. He didn't say as much; he didn't want to seem rude. Best take the offer at face value he guessed.
"Thank you," he said. "It's an honor to be asked. I will have an answer to you by tomorrow."
Frank ended the call and Jack stared at his phone in bewilderment. He couldn't believe what he had just been asked and he sat at the kitchen table with his coffee and a completely blank hole where his thought processes should have been.
"Who was it?"
Pause.
"Jack?"
Pause.
"Talk to me… what's wrong? Is it Beth?"
Riley was talking to him and Jack blinked away the shock. "No, not Beth. That was a guy from the TGRA; they want me to be a judge with the gay rodeo that's holding finals in Texas in October." He finally managed to get the words out and then slumped in his seat.
"TGRA?"
"Texas Gay Rodeo Association."
"A judge."
"Uh huh."
"Well that's cool, I've seen you on a horse and you're good. You know what you're looking for."
"I haven't been to a rodeo in a couple years," Jack muttered. Since meeting Riley, and working at the Double D, and then all the stuff with Hayley, he just hadn't had time. Stupid really, because training the quarter horses was what he was good at and he was cutting himself off from the very market that wanted him. He was lucky that so far he had managed a good living on word of mouth but he really should be out there marketing himself.
"I've never been to a rodeo," Riley answered. He sounded wistful.
"It's a
gay
rodeo." There was so much emphasis on the word gay that Riley laughed and Jack just scowled at the reaction. Riley evidently couldn't resist his scowly face and he scooted closer so he could hold Jack's hand.
"Then we should feel right at home," Riley said.
Jack wasn't feeling that. He had very specific ideas of what being gay meant to him. He was a cowboy and gay and goddamn proud of both. That didn't mean he had to go around proclaiming it to all and everyone. He should just go to a normal straight rodeo.
"I don't know what I'm going to say to them."
"Yes you do. You'll say yes. They're doing good work. It's not easy being a gay cowboy; hell, it's not all that easy being gay."
Jack narrowed his eyes. Riley was awfully behind this for some reason and Jack was suddenly very suspicious. "Did you know about this?"
"No," Riley answered, far too quickly. Jack stood and Riley followed just as quickly and in a few steps he had a laughing Riley pressed back against the kitchen wall.
"Tell me—"
"No." Riley laughed.
Jack could work this one of two ways. He could finesse the information he needed out of Riley over the space of two days or he could go for the kill now, using sex.
Pressing himself close he could feel Riley was already hard and Jack was enjoying this so much he wasn't far behind. Whether Riley had something to do with this or not could wait for just a little while. They kissed with all the sensual abandon of a committed couple, lust mixed with love. The embrace heated and Jack set up a rocking rhythm. He knew Hayley was in her room and could walk in on them, but he knew equally well that the kitchen door was shut and stuck like a bastard. He would hear her coming. God help anyone who came in the front door as they were likely to get an eyeful any second now. Riley was limp beneath him, held up by Jack's body and the firm hold Jack had on Riley's hands. He pulled back.
"I'm going to drop to my knees and suck your brains out of your dick," Jack said. Talking sexy never had really amounted to any more than telling Riley exactly what he wanted to do to him. Talking pretty was okay for some but Riley said he loved this about Jack so that was what Riley was going to get.
"Guh," Riley moaned. The single non-word was Riley's only reply as he thumped his head back on the wall and pushed his groin into Jack's.
"Then I'm going to drape you over this table and fuck you into tomorrow. Make love to you so damn good that you're gonna see stars—"
"Jack. Please—"
"After…" Jack deliberately trailed off in what he was saying.
"After?" Riley prompted in a husky, low voice.
"After you tell me what you know about this rodeo." Jack stepped back and Riley near stumbled. He was limp as a noodle and Jack could see the surprise in his husband's eyes.
"Blow job first?" Riley pleaded. He reached for Jack but Jack took a step away and smiled his 'no'. It was torture standing this close to six-four of muscled, excited husband when all he wanted to do was drop to his knees and show Riley a good time.
"Damn it, Jack. They called last week when you were out with the horses so I knew they were calling back. Anyways, I think it would be good marketing for the Double D."
"Okay," Jack said. That made sense. Whatever else concerned Jack, the ranch was at the forefront of everything he decided. That, and Riley, and Hayley, and his family, oh, and his friends. Okay, so it was a long-assed list.
"Okay?" Riley looked surprised that Jack was leaving it at that.
But Jack knew something Riley didn't. Jack really wanted his mouth on Riley's dick. Dropping to his knees, he scooted forward until his lips touched denim-covered hardness. He heard Riley inhale and the two of them fumbled to open buttons and to pull denim and cotton down enough to expose Riley. Jack didn't tease, or lick, or anything he might usually do. He wanted to make love to Riley the rest of the goddamned night. He closed his lips around Riley and sucked him down and Riley near whimpered above him.
"Jesus, fuck," Riley groaned. Jack knew his husband's body so well, was well versed in every single inch of Riley and the points that sent him wild. "I'm going to come too fast—Jack—Jeez…"
With Jack's hands reaching and touching and kneading Riley's ass, Riley lost it after what seemed like no time at all and Jack didn't waste any of time. Climbing Riley's body, he ravaged his husband's mouth with a kiss, sharing the taste of him. He dragged him away from the kitchen and to their bedroom where he pushed Riley down on the bed. Riley was bigger, taller, wider, but he wasn't fighting this. Jack spent a moment just staring at the length of Riley spread out over their bed. An overwhelming wave of love consumed Jack and suddenly all thoughts of just taking Riley here and now were gone. Sometimes they took and stole and lost themselves in each other. Tonight Jack wanted more. He wanted slow. He pressed down on his erection and started to undress. Riley followed suit.
Jack climbed on the bed.
"What's wrong?" Riley asked gently.
"Nothing," Jack replied. He was worrying at Riley's right nipple, kissing and gently biting. Riley arched up into the touch and Jack let him. "I love you," he whispered onto heated skin.
"I love you too," Riley said.
The heat from the day was dissipating but the room was still warm. For a second Jack rested his forehead on Riley's chest. The rodeo call was one thing but it paled next to how he felt about the news that Eli had been ill.
Eli was so alive and real, just like Riley. If Jack lost Riley now, if he had to face a future without his husband, he wasn't sure how long he could go on. He would have to, he was named as guardian for Hayley, but to live in a world without Riley? How could he even start to imagine that?
"I'm so sorry for Eli," he said. His voice was muffled against Riley but his husband heard him. Riley eased him up until Jack was lying next to him.
"Me too," he admitted. "He'll be okay. He's got this whole 'getting out there and doing things now' kind of attitude. I actually feel sorry for anyone who gets in his way."
Talking turned to kissing and when they began to make love it was slow and long and so full of love that Jack was choked.
He kissed a path from lips to chest again. The two cinnamon discs on Riley's chest were two of Jack's favorite things, along with Riley's height, his hair, his eyes, the taste of him, his legs, ass, back, shoulders… hell, everything. The cool evening breeze moved the thin net curtains at the window. Riley reached into the top drawer of the small bedside table and pulled out lube. The pure intimacy with which Riley moved when Jack was stretching him was never as exquisite as the sounds he made when Jack took him.
"Now," Riley murmured. Jack took no notice; he was running this show, and he wanted slow and steady even as he pushed his way in and kissed the wince of burn from Riley's lips.
"Shhh," he whispered. "I'll get you there." Curling himself around Riley, fingers tracing each muscle and the taut cords of his neck, Jack buried himself again and again. Every push was accompanied by whispers of encouragement and Riley was cursing and writhing on Jack's dick until finally he came with a shout muffled by Jack's kiss.
Jack felt that he would have to be superhuman not to have come as soon as he entered Riley but somehow Jack had managed to make it last. He pushed deep inside one final time and came hard in Riley. Replete and exhausted Jack managed to stumble to the bathroom and find a cloth and, finally cleaned, he checked in on Hayley and then they both slumped back onto the bed. The humidity in the room was too much to be under the covers.
"Do you still want dinner?" Jack asked.
"Too tired," Riley replied.
"It's only nine."
"You wore me out." Riley moved his face against the cool pillows and suddenly all Jack wanted to do was lie here next to his husband.
"Did you lock up?" Riley asked. His voice sounded sleepy.
"Uh huh," Jack replied, "When I checked on Hayley."
"Hayley's okay?"
"Fast asleep."
Riley snuggled in close and Jack wrapped his arms around him.
Nothing was taking Riley from him. Not another man, or woman, or cancer, or anything.
Ever.

Robbie paused inside the open door. The man that was standing in the kitchen with his fingers dancing over a phone was not Jack, nor Riley. The air was redolent with the smell of cooking and a quick glance to the sink showed a pile of peelings that indicated the meal included potatoes at least.

"Hi," Robbie said. The other guy was turned half away from him and clearly hadn't heard him come into the kitchen. He also apparently hadn't heard Robbie say hi. Either that or he was terminally rude.

"No. I don't want him again," other-guy snapped. For a second Robbie was startled at the vehemence in the man's voice then just as quickly realized he had earbuds in and was clearly talking on his phone. "Because last time he stripped naked, waggled his dick in my face, and asked me to call him sir." Robbie couldn't help the raising of his eyebrows at that statement. "Then I caught him oiling up Harvey in the back room. No. Okay. Find me someone else." With a heavy sigh he finished the call and pulled the earbuds from his ears. "Fuck," he muttered.

"Shit!" He grasped at his chest dramatically and his eyes were wide with shock. "You scared the fuck out of me."

"Sorry," Robbie apologized. He watched as the guy waved away the apology with a grin.
"It's cool. I needed snapping out of my oncoming temper tantrum." He extended his hand in welcome. "Eli Martin, friend of Riley's."
Robbie took the hand and shook it. "Robbie. I work here."
Eli cast an appraising look up and then deliberately down the full length of Robbie, all while he gripped Robbie's hand.
"I bet you do," he near purred.
Robbie became a little concerned, pulled his hand away, and pushed it deep into his pocket. He was ignoring the firm grasp and the slide of skin on skin like he had imagined it all. Eli was still staring. For a second Robbie wondered if he had nicked himself shaving or something, so intently was Eli examining his face. When Jack had muttered about having a guest for dinner Robbie had made an effort because he didn't know who it was. He had showered, shaved, and dressed in his best jeans, the ones from the wedding, before pulling on a clean pale blue Tshirt. Hell, he'd even tried to tame his unruly hat hair with gel that Paul had bought him three years before. Of course he'd had to scrape away the crusty end of the tube but the gel was still sticky and his sun-bleached blond hair took on a tousled, wild appearance.
He wasn't sure where to look and was now moving way past uncomfortable to downright verging on pissed. The gaze of Eli's green eyes—his deep mossy eyes with amber flecks—was so focused that the inspection seared through Robbie. Instead of returning the gaze Robbie focused straight ahead on Eli's short, spiky dark hair.
"You're a cowboy?" Eli asked finally.
Robbie wasn't sure where to place the tone in Eli's voice. He sounded almost excited and at the same time disbelieving.
"Yes," Robbie answered. He took a step back and away from the guy who would not quit with the freaky staring.
"Have you ever thought of modeling?"
The question was so far out of left field that Robbie was momentarily speechless. In all of his near thirty years he had never been handed that particular inquiry. Robbie stared directly into green eyes and swallowed. Eli was vibrating with visible tension and he really wasn't sure what the hell was going on.
"Leave Robbie alone."
Robbie was never more grateful when Jack, followed by Riley and Hayley, entered the kitchen.
"But he's so pretty and I wasn't touching," Eli whined.
Robbie was damn sure he had never been called pretty before. Hot. Hard. Sexy. Never pretty. Not that he believed much of what he was told. Besides, Eli was the pretty one. Shorter than him, he had full lips and the longest eyelashes. Eli was all city; polished and urbane, and Robbie couldn't help himself and dropped his gaze to Eli's crotch to admire the way his pants were pulled by his groin. Jack moved between Robbie and Eli and quirked his lips in a wry smile.
"Sorry. Ignore Eli."
"Most people do," Riley added.
The table was already laid for five and within the space of ten minutes or so dinner was served. Eli didn't stop looking at him and every time Robbie couldn't help but look back Eli was sizing him up and smiling. Unnerving. Unsettling. Kinda hot. Eli was nothing like Paul. Paul had been taller, wider, a cowboy, at home in denim and dust. Eli was like some kind of weird ranch version of a businessman. He wore pants not jeans, a button-down shirt not a T-shirt, and his hair was short and spiky and probably gelled with product that was newer than three years old.
He discovered that talking to Hayley formed a useful barrier between him and Eli, who really would not quit with the staring. At nine, with dinner cleared away, Robbie was so freaked out that he nearly dived out the door to leave.
"Coffee?" Jack asked.
"No thank you. Dinner was great," Robbie said. "I'm turning in. Night." Nodding to Jack and Riley and with a small movement to include Eli and no further backward glance he was gone out of the door. He pulled it shut behind him only to have the whole thing move as apparently Eli had chosen to follow him out.
Robbie didn't wait. With long strides he made his way over the ground to the barn. The half dusk made it difficult to see but he was used to uneven ground and made it to the steps up the side of the barn with little difficulty.
"Wait. Robbie—fuck!" The fuck was accompanied by a rather loud thud and was followed up by a ripe curse that split the evening air. Robbie paused with his foot on the bottom step. He had made it so close to his actual room; almost got all the way to safety and now his innate sense of chivalry made him turn around. Sprawled in the dust, Eli was prone and not moving. Robbie had heard him curse so he assumed the guy was still alive—he was probably just winded. That was all. Any minute now he would roll to his side and stand. He didn't.
"Jeez," Robbie sighed. Striding back the few steps to where Eli lay, he wondered if maybe he should press the guy's side with his toe. Or find a stick.
"Ouch," Eli muttered.
Well, at least the man was alive. That was a good thing. Right?
"What the hell are you doing?" Robbie asked. Impatience colored the question.
"What the fuck does it look like I'm doing?" Eli sounded pissed, as well he should.
"It looks like you're sprawled in the dirt in your fancy clothes with shit all over you."
Eli experimentally sniffed the air. "I landed in shit?"
"No, Eli, you didn't land in shit. That was a euphemism for landing on your ass on cowboy land."
Eli raised his eyebrows. Perhaps he wasn't expecting long words from a cowboy? He held up a hand. "Help me up? Please?" He added the please when Robbie took a step back and away. Robbie's manners and his sense of duty warred with his common sense. This was Riley's friend sprawled on the ground. He couldn't leave him there. Could he? Eli made him feel all kinds of uncomfortable and hot and jeez, did he mention uncomfortable.
"Is he okay?" Riley was calling from the door. Evidently the whole thing had been caught out of the kitchen window.
"Are you okay?" Robbie snapped the question.
"Help me up." Eli sounded a little pitiful and Robbie wondered if the guy had actually hurt himself.
Robbie sighed and then did as he was asked. He held out a hand and leaned down. Eli grasped tightly and scrambled to stand. Momentarily Robbie was off balance but flexing the muscles in his arms he managed to pull Eli close enough not to end up face planted in the dirt himself.
"I'm fine, Ri," Eli called to the waiting Riley. "Robbie has me."
"Eli…" Riley's voice held warning but Eli just turned back to face Robbie even as he spoke firmly to Riley.
"I just want to talk."
Robbie sighed as his simmering irritability morphed into the start of anger.
"Talking would involve actual words," he said. He tried to keep his voice low enough so Riley wouldn't hear him. "Not sitting opposite me with your mouth hanging open and your eyes on my dick."
"Are you going to let go of me, cowboy?" Eli said gently.
Robbie cursed when he realized he still had hold of the photographer and released him as quickly as he could without letting the guy tumble back again. Robbie heard the screen door shutting and assumed Riley was back in the house. Damn. There went the cavalry. Hell, he needed to be handling this himself—he couldn't go running to Jack complaining that Riley's friend made him feel like a bug under a microscope.
"There," Robbie said. Perhaps a little unnecessarily but he wanted to draw a line of emphasis under the whole incident. Finished.
"Can we talk?"
"What about?" Robbie couldn't keep the suspicion out of his voice. "I'm not a model or a clotheshorse or whatever shit you think you see in me."
Eli lifted a hand and touched Robbie's cheek. He stepped back startled. Not even Paul had touched him in such an intimate and gentle way. That wasn't the way things worked.
"What the hell!" he snapped.
"I have twenty models arriving in a few days and not one of them is as perfect as you. Your cheekbones, jeez, you could cut stone with them, and your eyes. Did you know your eyes are the most peculiar shade of blue? Like a sky just before a storm, all dark and brooding."
"I'm going to bed." Robbie had really had enough of all this crap tonight. He resolved to never have anything to do with Eli ever again. He even turned to go but Eli's soft "wait" made him stop. Irritated, he turned on his heel.
"What?"
"I like you."
"You
like
me? You don't
know
me."
"I want to—"
"Jeez—"
"Look. Wait. That isn't me being creepy." Eli looked so intense when he said that and with the light from the house spilling into their corner of darkness Robbie could see real emotion on the other man's face. "This is me wanting something artistically. I mean, shit, I'm a photographer—"
"I know—"
"And I am inspired by you—"
"Whatever—"
"I would give anything to shoot you on film."
"No."
"Then this is me also thinking you are kind of cool. The stories you must have about your time in the outback. I would love to hear more when I am taking your photo about then and the kangaroos."
"Kangaroos?" Robbie couldn't have stopped the snort of laughter if he'd tried.
"Yes. In Australia. Y'know, kangaroos." Eli lifted his hands in front of him in an approximation of kangaroo front paws and even hopped up on his toes before catching himself.
"I know what a kangaroo is." Robbie shook his head.
"So would you think about it?"
"I already did. No. I'm not having my photo plastered everywhere for people to look at—"
"It would just be for me," Eli interrupted.
Robbie wasn't sure what to say to that one.
"That's not leveling out the creepiness factor here."
"I'd pay you." Eli was clearly getting desperate.
"How much?"
Eli mentioned a sum that was three times what Robbie earned at the Double D for working with the horses. He was paid generously by Jack and to have figures in the thousands of dollars thrown at him was a shock.
"It's still a no."
If a man could pout, then Eli was doing so. He looked like a kicked puppy and Robbie narrowed his eyes when Eli unconsciously rubbed at his elbow. Had the idiot hurt himself when he fell? Sympathy welled inside him. The ground was hard from whatever height you fell.
"Can I just have a kiss then?" Eli said.
Sympathy for the guy disappeared in an instant.
What the fuck? A kiss? What the hell was this guy on?
"No." And with that Robbie took the stairs to his room two at a time and shut the door behind him, locking it immediately. He didn't check to see if Eli had left. He wasn't fascinated by the guy with the intriguing green eyes and the ready smile, nor was he interested in the spikes of his dark hair, nor in the sense of living life that seeped from every pore of him. The guy was in-your-face adamant that he could get what he wanted and that was the last thing Robbie needed. If he was looking for someone to kiss, let alone fuck, he certainly would not be looking at Eli freaking Martin and his artistic view on the world.
Nope, despite what his dick was telling him, he wasn't interested at all.