Page 11 of Dust and Desire
I shrugged, not meeting her gaze. “Long day. Needed some sleep.”
“Uh-huh.” Her tone made it clear she wasn’t buying it. “Nothing to do with you making Dustin run off like his ass was on fire?”
Someone must’ve told her. I sighed, finally looking up at her. “I might’ve come on a little strong.”
“A little?” Caroline barked out a laugh. “From what I hear, you were practically in his lap, Reyes. Poor man probably felt like he was gonna have a heart attack.”
Heat crept up my neck that had nothing to do with the Texas sun. “I was just being friendly.”
“That what they call it in Oklahoma?” She shook her head, but there was no real judgment in her expression. “Look, Dustin’s... different. He’s not like the rest of us.”
“What does that mean?” I asked, honestly curious about this stunning blue-eyed stranger.
Caroline shifted nervously, not something she did often. “It’s not my place to say. His business is his own.” She paused, looking me over. “I won’t tell you how to live your life,” she added, crossing her arms over her chest. “But don’t you dare run that man off. He’s considered a saint around here. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes ma’am,” I said automatically. Caroline might not have said it bluntly, but she meant to warn me. If it came down to a choice between Dustin and I, she would pick Dustin. And I couldn’t blame her. “I’ll be more… mindful next time.”
“Good man,” she nodded. “Well, we’re getting dinner put together up at the house if you want to join us. Barbeque tonight.”
“Who’s cooking?” I asked before I could stop myself.
Caroline turned around, placing her hands forcefully on her hips. “Beau and Lucas are, if you must know.”
I let out a sigh of relief. “Oh, okay. I can be there.”
She glared at me for a long moment. “I’m not sure I like your tone.”
I just grinned. “Well, at least you’re a good barrel racer.”
“I hate boys!” Caroline barked, turning away from me, her braid whipping behind her.
“You know you like me! I’m too cute to hate!” I called back.
I swore I almost heard her snicker.
Chapter 5
Alex
Itook my time putting Rusty away before heading back to my small apartment on the backside of the arena. Cooling off in the creek had been nice, but there was a certain stench that came with creek water that I wanted to wash off before dinner. Just because I was a ranch hand didn’t mean I had to smell like one. I was a gay man after all and that demanded at least some semblance of decorum, especially around other gays.
The shower in my apartment was small but functional, with decent water pressure just like Colt had promised. I let the hot water wash over me, scrubbing away the creek water and sweat with the pine-scented soap I’d picked up at the general store in town. My mind kept wandering back to the figure in the woods. Something about it didn’t sit right with me, but I couldn’t put my finger on why. Maybe I was just letting my imagination run a little too wild.
Stepping out of the shower, I wrapped a towel around my waist and wiped the steam from the mirror. My reflection stared back at me, dark eyes serious in a way they hadn’t been before three years ago. Before him.
“Stop it,” I muttered to myself. “You’re being paranoid.”
I dressed quickly in my cleanest jeans and a button-up shirt that wasn’t too wrinkled. I even dabbed on a touch of the cologne I kept for special occasions. Not that a ranch barbecue was special, but there was a chance Dustin might be there, and despite Caroline’s warning, I couldn’t help wanting to make a better impression than I had at the diner. At the very least I wanted to be cute. I had a reputation to build in this new town.
The walk to the main house took only five minutes, and by the time I arrived, the small gathering was already in full swing. The large backyard was drenched in shade from a massive cottonwood in the center. Underneath were two picnic tables draped in red-checkered cloths, and the smell of smoked meat hung heavy in the air. Logan was manning a massive grill while a tall, muscular man with blonde hair and a cowboy hat. That was Beau, one of the local hunks I’d met at karaoke the night before. Meanwhile his fiancé, Lucas, arranged platters of corn and biscuits on a nearby table.
“Alex!” Dakota called out, waving me over from where he sat with an older couple who I recognized to be Logan’s parents. We’d had a short introduction the night I arrived. “Come on and take a seat!”
I made my way over, accepting a cold beer from a cooler as I passed.
“Mr. and Mrs. Baker,” I said, tipping my hat as I approached. “Good to see you again.”
“Please, you don’t have to call us that,” Logan’s father said with a warm smile, patting the bench beside him. “We’re all on a first name basis here.”
