Page 7 of Dust and Desire
“Well, look who decided to show up!” Colt’s voice boomed across the restaurant, and I felt every pair of eyes in the place turn toward me. Heat crept up my neck as I spotted him waving me over to a large booth where the usual suspects were crammed together like sardines.
Logan and Dakota sat pressed close together on one side, Dakota’s arm draped casually over Logan’s shoulders. Across from them, Eli had claimed the corner spot, leaving just enough room for Colt to slide in beside him. The other couples were scattered around nearby tables, creating a small constellation of gay cowboys that would have been unthinkable in most small towns.
And then there was me. Standing there like an idiot with my hands shoved deep in my pockets.
“Dustin!” Dakota called out, gesturing to an empty chair they’d pulled up to the table. “We saved you a spot.”
I made my way over, acutely aware of how the chair separated me from the cozy booth arrangement. Like a kid at the adult table during Thanksgiving dinner.
“Thought you might chicken out,” Colt said with that trademark grin, but his eyes held genuine warmth. “Glad you made it.”
“Yeah, well,” I shrugged, settling into the chair. “Had to see if you could actually carry a tune or if it’s all hype.”
The group laughed, and some of the tension in my shoulders eased. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.
“What can I get you, honey?” The waitress appeared at my elbow. It was Dolly herself, a woman in her mid-forties with teased blonde hair, red nails, and a smile that could charm the devil himself.
“Just a beer,” I said. “Whatever’s on tap.”
“Make it two,” a voice said behind me. “I’m buyin’.”
I turned to see a man I didn’t recognize sliding into the chair beside me. He was younger than me, maybe late twenties, with dark hair and the kind of easy confidence that made people gravitate toward him. But what caught my attention were his eyes, warmhoney brown and focused entirely on me with an intensity that made my stomach flip.
“Alex Reyes,” he said, extending his hand. “I’m the new ranch hand at the Baker place.”
“Dustin Corvus,” I replied, shaking his hand. His grip was firm, calloused, and he held on just a beat longer than necessary, a silent grin in his eyes.
“The famous investor,” Alex said, not letting go of my hand. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Nothing good, I hope,” I managed, attempting to make a joke. I felt myself falling back into old corporate habits. Small talk was a skill I’d learned, not a natural gift. “How are you liking the place?”
“Like it just fine so far,” Alex said, finally releasing my hand but not breaking eye contact. “Though I’m still getting acquainted with all the... local attractions.”
The way he said it, with that slight pause and the hint of a smile playing at his lips, made heat pool low in my belly. Was he flirting with me? It had been so long since anyone had looked at me like that, I wasn’t sure I could trust my own judgment.
“Well, you picked a good night for it,” Logan interjected, seemingly oblivious to the tension crackling between Alex and me. “Colt’s been bragging all week about how he’s gonna show everyone up on the karaoke machine.”
“Is that so?” Alex turned that warm gaze toward Colt, but I caught him glancing back at me from the corner of his eye. “Might have some competition tonight.”
Colt straightened in his seat, that competitive streak I’d witnessed at the arena flaring to life. “You sing, new guy?”
“A little,” Alex said with false modesty that fooled absolutely no one at the table.
Dolly returned with our beers, setting them down with practiced efficiency. I took a long pull from mine, grateful for something to do with my hands. The cold liquid helped calm my nerves, but it did nothing to stop me from sneaking glances at Alex.
He was handsome in a rugged way that was completely different from Colt’s flashy rodeo star appeal. Where Colt was all bright smiles and obvious charm, Alex had something quieter, more mysterious. The kind of man who probably had stories he didn’t tell and secrets he kept close to his chest. Or maybe I’d just been reading too many romance novels alone in my tiny house. That was probably the most likely answer.
“So, what’s your story, Dustin?” Alex asked, turning his full attention back to me. “Logan mentioned you’re from New York originally?”
“Corporate lawyer,” I said, then immediately wished I’d said something more interesting. “Was, anyway. Gave it up to move out here.”
“That’s quite a change,” Alex observed, leaning closer. His knee brushed against mine under the table, and I wasn’t sure if it was intentional or just the cramped seating arrangement. “What made you decide to trade skyscrapers for cattle?”
The honest answer was too complicated, too raw to share with a stranger in a crowded diner. The divorce, the revelation about my sexuality, the crushing self-loathing that had nearly driven me to do something stupid. Instead, I fell back on the sanitized version I’d been giving people since I moved to Sagebrush.
“Needed a change of scenery,” I said with a shrug. “Sometimes you just know when it’s time to start over.”
Alex nodded slowly, like he understood more than I was saying. “I get that. Sometimes running toward something new is the only way to stop running from what’s behind you.”
