Page 22 of Baker
No. I did not want to go. I wanted to stay here and get fucked by Hanley. But that would be lazy and irresponsible. Baker Bastian may be many things, most crummy, but he was not lazy. Heaving a mighty sigh internally, I gave my stupid brothers a nod, then went to find my horse who had wandered a bit. Not far, but enough that I had to call her back. When I was in the saddle, I rode back to the gathering atop the knoll.
“Thanks for stopping by,” Hanley said as he petted Prissy’s soft muzzle. “I’ll bring your hat to the house later.”
“I thought you lost your hat while out riding when your horse saw a coyote?” Dodge asked before tipping his spiffy new hat back just a scootch.
“Right, he did. I found it while I was out scouting a shoot site and took it back to my camp,” Hanley quickly interjected, saving my ass. Pity he had to save it when I really wanted him to wreck it. Stupid siblings.
“Why not come up for dinner tonight?” Ford chimed in. “Bella is making her special vegan lasagna, and she always makes too much.”
Hanley looked up at me questioningly. Did we want that kind of chumminess or would it be better to keep our thing strictly sex and no homey family shit?
“Sure, yeah, I’ll come get you at your camp at sunset,” I replied before I could think too much about it. What was one damn meal?
“Great. That sounds really good. Canned stew and talking to myself gets boring after a few days.” Hanley gave me a big smile before nodding at my kin and ambling back to his gear. I turned my horse so as not to allow the three apes on ATVs to see me smiling like a giddy teen despite some deep reservations. Prissy led the way to the Horny Hoot Owl cabin while I fought off daydreams of sharing coffee and cake with Hanley.
9
Chapter Nine
Imade it a point not to get gussied up.
Same old clothes, just freshly washed, same boots, same belt. No new socks or underwear. And just a dab of Old Spice on my cheek. Whiskery cheeks at that because I’d not shaved since this was only dinner with the family—I’d have to examine when this motley group had shifted from pushy strangers to family later—and therefore warranted no date-like sprucing up.
Still, even though I had told myself a hundred times, it was nothing at all like a date, when I pulled up at Hanley’s redbud camp at dusk, my stomach did this little flipsy-doo when he walked up to me wearing my hat.
“Evening, cowboy,” he drawled and plunked my hat back onto my head. I opened my mouth to tell him to keep the damn hat since it looked better on him, but my words were cut short when his mouth covered mine. His fingers came to the back of my neck. I leaned into the kiss, eager, hungry, and met each strokeof his tongue over mine. “Mm, I bet that lasagna isn’t close to being as tasty as you are.”
He gave the nape of my neck a squeeze before climbing behind me and settling in for the ride. His arms looped around my middle. Pity we both had coats on. I’d much rather feel him tight to my back, naked, his prick buried deep inside me.
“We going soon?” he asked beside my ear, making a shudder dance down my spine.
“I’m contemplating skipping dinner and having you fuck me senseless instead,” I confessed and got a soft grunt from him.
“Let’s eat first. I amstarved. When you bring me back, I’ll fuck you into Kansas.” He bit down on my earlobe, softly, but enough that I felt it. Yeah, that sounded good. I gave the Honda some gas, and we sped off, startling a covey of scaled quail settling down in the dead grasses to sleep skyward. Hanley was very handsy. Handsy Hanley. His fingers crept downward to my crotch several times as we bounded along. “I should have had you put a plug in before we left my camp,” he whispered into my ear just as we pulled up in front of the house. My dick, already stiff as a pencil, throbbed at the mention. Fuck and yes.
“Next time,” I ground out before nudging him with my elbow.
“That’s a promise I plan to see you keep,” he replied, kissed the fine hairs on the back of my neck, and then wiggled off the ATV. I glanced back to see that his jeans were as tented as mine, so we stood there gawking at the stars until our erections went down.
“You good?” I enquired. He nodded, smirked, and held out his hand to mine. Unsure of what he was doing, I carefully placed my palm over his and gawked when he lifted my hand to his lips for a gentle kiss to my knuckles.
“I’m good. Let’s eat.” He released my hand. I felt a little giddy and a whole lot confused.
As soon as we opened the front door, the aroma of garlic and the din of lots of people talking greeted us. We shrugged out ofour coats, toed off our boots, and I led him into the spacious farmhouse kitchen. It was packed. Granny was directing the table settings as Bella removed two large pans of lasagna from the old oven.
“Just in time!” Granny said with a smile. The woman was the happiest I had seen her in years. My half-brothers all called a greeting to Hanley as they moved around the table in a circle, putting out plates, glasses, and flatware. “Here, you sit next to me tonight. I want to hear all about your picture taking in Australia.”
She pulled Hanley to the special chair—the one brought in from the dining room—and then proceeded to hog him all through the meal. Truly, I didn’t mind. He seemed so relaxed, even among people he didn’t know well. I envied that. I’d always been aloof, it seemed. Reserved was what Granny liked to call it. Sitting here stuffing my face with some damn good lasagna even if it was meatless and listening to Hanley entertain Granny and the rest packed in tight at the table made me feel content. The pineapple cake for dessert was one of my favorites. I had two slabs and a large cup of dark coffee.
Dodge seemed distracted, though. When the others dispersed to the living room to chat while a few of “the boys” as Granny now called us cleaned up, I volunteered as did Dodge. The dishwashing would take some time. There were a lot of dirty plates and pans, but I rolled up my sleeves and we dove in. It didn’t take him long to start talking.
“So, my ex is being a dickhead about Dahn coming out for Easter,” he admitted while toweling dry a spatula. Laughter flowed into the warm room. Something about a crocodile with a peg leg, but I didn’t quite catch all of Hanley’s story. “He’s concerned about who is living in this commune in the wilds where his son is going to be sleeping.”
I cocked an eyebrow. “We’re a commune in the wild now?”
“So it seems. He’s just being a shithead. Anything to make life more miserable for me.” Dodge sighed as he continued to dry that spatula. The dish drainer was close to overflowing. I shook off a cake plate and held it over the rinse sink to drip dry. “So I’m going to ask Ollie if he can contact Chris to assure him that the ranch is not a commune, nor are we in the wilds. Maybe see about getting a background check on everyone here…”
“Well, we kind of are, especially to someone from Sacramento. No offense, but just yesterday you nearly shit yourself when you saw a snapping turtle sunning over at the watering pond in the south pasture.”
