Page 54 of The Cowboy's Bullfighter
Brooks leaned back, looking right into his eyes. And those dark, dark eyes were sure pretty.
Just like Andy Whitehead, but different.
Not that Andy had ever stared at him like that—like he was fine as frog hair split three ways.
And Coop was—well, he wasn’t too proud to admit that he tightened right up, his cock lifting with interest.
“Maybe you ought not look at me like that way if you don’t want something to come of it, Brooks.”
“Who says I don’t?”
Brooks never looked away, not even when he lifted his head to take a kiss.
Humming, Brooks wrapped his arms around Coop’s neck and held on, and they pressed against each other, which made him hard as a rock in a rush.
Damn. Oh, damn. It had been a long time, but he sure remembered how to do this, and he put one hand down on Brooks’s ass, keeping them together, his breath starting to come fast.
“Uhn.” Brooks panted when he broke for air, then kissed him again. And again.
He was about to find them some horse blankets for themselves when his phone buzzed in his pocket, making him groan. “Aw, crap.”
Brooks sighed. “Get it. What if it’s the kids?”
“Yeah,” he answered. “Benji. This had better be important.”
“Um.” Benji cleared his throat. “The kids are wondering if you’re okay. You said when Brooks was done in the kitchen y’all would come watch cartoons.”
“Oh, crap. Yeah, we were looking at the cats and checking the horses. We’ll be in after ten or so.”
“Okay, cool. I made hot cocoa. It’s just instant, but we can do a cup for you when you come in.”
“We’ll be there.” He swiped off the phone, and then gave Brooks a look full of regret, he would bet. He sure felt like it.
Brooks touched his cheek. “We’ll revisit this.”
“We will?”
“Hell yes. Just not the day before Thanksgiving.” He winked.
“Okay, cool.” That made him smile. “Come on. Let’s look in on the horses so I ain’t a liar and then head for the house.”
“Yeah. Yeah, okay.” Brooks patted his butt. “Lead the way so I can watch.”
“Oh, Lord.” His ears went hot, and he laughed. “We’ll definitely revisit this, honey. Come on.”
They walked out, the cold air almost taking his breath, and suddenly Thanksgiving seemed all the more shiny.
He couldn’t wait for pie…
ChapterThirteen
Brooks sat cross-legged on the couch, a cup of decaf coffee on the side table, and his second piece of pumpkin pie in hand.
Coop had pecan, and they were watchingWhite Christmas, since it was right after midnight on the day after Thanksgiving. So it was safe.
Oi, it was a fine thing to watch Coop eat pie.
And he was thinking it was more and more fine every time he saw it happen. He would make more pies just to watch Coop eat them and lick whipped cream off his fork.
