Page 82 of On the Land, We Shoot Straight
“Answer the question.”
Grady drilled in a few more screws. “Town.”
Cole nodded. “When’s she comin’ back?”
“Dunno.”
Cole nodded to that too. Grady knew what he was asking. His dick knew it too. It was a bad idea. Charmaine would be pulling up any minute. Probably. And she was damn well right too, maybe Cole didn’t get it. But as Grady set the drill down carefully and walked over to Cole, who was looking back at him with a serious expression that disappeared the second Grady was in reach, then tugged Grady in by his shirt and smirked up at him, Grady reckoned he might not get it anymore either.
Charmaine came back later that evening. She was drunk and definitely shouldn’t have been driving, but when Grady told her that, she said, “There’s no cops around.”
Which was true enough, but “Ain’t just cops you gotta worry about it.”
“You worried about me now, babe?”
The front door slammed, and they both listened as Cole trudged out to the barn.
“I heard some interesting stuff about your boy there in town.”
Grady felt every muscle in his body tense.
“I ain’t interested in hearin’ it.” He got himself a beer and put the kettle on for her.
“I’ll have one of those,” she said. He also wasn’t interested in arguing with her, so he handed over the beer, got another one, and turned the kettle off.
“You don’t wanna know about the person living under your roof?”
Grady sat and looked at her, dead serious. “I done lived and worked with him for almost a year. Reckon I know him.”
“Do you now.” She drank her beer, and she had that mean look again.
But Grady knew he could look like a right bastard himself. He gave her that look now and watched her clock it. A bitchy smile took over her face, and he knew she’d made her decision to ignore it.
“’Cause I heard he’s been whorin’—”
Grady stood and slammed both hands on the table, the bottles rattling. Charmaine looked up at him, mouth open. Grady wasn’t a violent man, but right then he was shaking with a rage that was coming from somewhere deep in the midsection. He turned from her, went out the back door, and she didn’t say another word.
Grady walked over to the barn, his hands shaking. Cole was lying on his front, a kerosene lamp he’d probably found down in the basement burning beside him, Chloe’s head over the stall again, a book open in front of him. He turned as Grady opened the stall and came in. He looked annoyed like he had since Charmaine arrived, but then he must’ve seen what Grady was throwing down because he shifted to concerned and said,“Grady?” softly. And Grady realized Cole hardly ever said his name, other than sometimes when they were fucking.
Hearing him say it now shifted his anger to something painful, and he bit out, “Can I sit with you?”
“’Course.”
Cole shuffled over, and Grady lay down beside him. There was a careful space between them and Grady breathed, let his hammering heart settle back down. Cole watched him for a while, and Grady could feel him thinking of asking. But of course Cole knew him better than that and went back to his book.
The lamp burned, and Grady closed his eyes against it. He listened to Cole turning the pages, Chloe snorting and settling, Cole shifting and breathing, and Grady felt everything in him calm back down, and he dozed off.
42
W
hen he woke up,Cole wasn’t there, and the sunlight was shining through the beams. Chloe was gone, too. Grady snorted. Cole must’ve gone riding. He sat up and went back to the house. He walked through to the kitchen and found Charmaine sitting at the little table, tapping her fingernails on her coffee mug. She glanced up as he came in and then looked down again.
Grady couldn’t parse why she’d be looking abashed—he was the one who’d spent the night in the barn with his hand; clearly, they needed to talk, but she should’ve been mad.
“Think he’s gone riding if you wanna do this now,” Grady said and made a coffee.
“He’s not gone riding.”
