Page 88 of On the Land, We Shoot Straight
Once Cole was finished and sitting back, Grady sat for a moment longer and thought on how to say what he needed in order to get some sleep.
“I reckon I need to turn in.”
Cole gave him a onceover. “I reckon, you look like hell.”
Grady snorted. “Yeah, it’s what happens when you ridin’ and drivin’ all over lookin’ for your hand for two days.”
Cole’s lips parted, and Grady stood. “I ain’t havin’ a go. But I need to ask somethin’, and I know I asked it before and you broke it.”
Cole was looking up at him, looking suitably cowed, and Grady didn’t want that, but well, he didn’t want to be waking up to an empty house again either.
“All right,” Cole said.
“Sleep in the barn, your room. Hell, sleep with me, just don’t go leavin’ again without tellin’ me, you hear? I mean it. I’ll take you to the city if you wantin’ out, but I just want to know where you’re at.”
“All right.” Cole nodded and then met Grady’s eyes with that serious look. “I promise.”
Grady reached out and brushed his hand down the side of Cole’s face, watched his lips part and his eyes widen.
“All right,” Grady said and dragged himself up to bed.
He lay there listening to Cole doing the dishes. Then he heard him coming up the stairs, the bathroom door opening and the shower turning on, and he couldn’t keep awake any longer. But he woke when he felt Cole slipping in beside him, his cold arms going around his waist tentatively. Grady’s arm came down and pulled him close, tugged him right on up so he was sprawled on top of his chest. Grady kissed his throat, held him against him and felt Cole answering him with a tight grip.
44
G
rady found the bedempty but warm on that first morning and got up, yanked his pants on and thundered downstairs without even bothering to fasten them. He sighed loudly when he saw Cole standing there, drinking a coffee in those old sweats and nothing more. Grady went to move over and kiss him and then stopped. Cole froze with his mug halfway down, aborting the movement to set it aside. Cole huffed and put it down. Grady took it as his cue. He moved forward and kissed Cole good morning like he did every day. Cole gave a surprised start but then kissed back. It wasn’t the surprise of not expecting it—Grady wasn’t sure they’d ever telegraphed intentions more—it seemed the surprise of Grady doing it at all. Grady kissed him harder at that thought. Cole relaxed into it, his low back pressed into the kitchen counter, his arms coming up to circle Grady’s neck.
“Morning,” Grady said against his lips.
Cole smiled, his own lips brushing Grady’s. “Morning.”
Grady’s smile widened. He brought his hands up into Cole’s hair, tugged him close and kissed him breathless.
Grady knew they needed to talk. He knew that, if for no other reason than Cole’s own sanity, Cole needed to tell Grady what happened. Or tell someone. As Grady rode alongside Cole on that first day, surveying the crops and what could be harvested, he remembered the words Cole had inflicted on himself, about himself, and he felt that if that was rattling around in Cole’s head, well then, he needed someone to set him right.
Cole had been unsure when they got back from checking the crop, his eyes down when he mumbled about trying out a different course for Chloe. Grady didn’t know how much more his heart could take of this painful clenching at seeing him like that. He told him, gruffly, “Go on and get to it, ain’t no need to be askin’.”
And Cole’s relieved smile was worth it.
Cole was out building that new course for Chloe when Grady decided to make the call.
Charmaine picked up, and Grady was relieved. For a moment there, he thought she’d reject it once her secretary told her who it was.
“We shouldn’t be talking,” she said.
“This ain’t about that.” Grady let out a breath and leaned back against the hallway wall.
“I’m not going to come after the farm or the ranch.”
“And I ain’t gonna come after you for spousal support,” he replied.
She laughed.
“What? You earn more’n I ever do.”
“If you sold the land…”
