Page 77 of Brett and Rowdy
Now, to be honest, Rowdy had kind of hoped that Brett would offer. Maybe something like—would you like to come and see my etchings? And then Rowdy could laugh and say he hadn’t seen anything in a bunch of years, and then he could go down to the forge and figure out what was what.
“You’ve got to stop waiting on someone else to ask for things, son.”
“Are you saying that I’m shy?”
“No, that’s not at all what I am saying, butthead. What I am saying, is that besides the fact that you’re a pain in my ass, especially when it comes to romantic stuff, you’re always letting the other person drive.”
He was not having this conversation. “I think that Brett would argue with you on that front. I’m sort of the one who offered to let him come here.”
“Good. The next thing you need to do is figure out whether or not he wants to live here. Do you want him to be here?”
Did he?
Yeah.
He loved having someone in his bed at night. He loved talking and proving to Brett all the things he could do. He loved… Brett, which freaked him right the hell out, because he hadn’t ever considered that he would go back in time and rediscover a man he’d known a boy.
He’d been stung by Brett before, but what he was feeling now wasn’t a teenaged fire.
What he had was threatening to become something absolutely deeper than flames that could be doused with the rain.
“I do. I like him a lot, Dad. Like kind of more than is reasonable a lot.”
“I don’t see anything wrong with that.” All right. That was what he needed to hear, that Dad liked Brett well enough to approve. His dad knew folks and horseflesh, better than anyone he knew.
“No, I don’t really either.”
Now if he could just figure out what Brent wanted, they would be all set.
They sat there a while, the summer sun soaking into his bones and feeding his soul.
“You want me to take you down there?” Dad’s question surprised the hell out of him, pulling him out of his near-doze.
“Down where?” Rowdy wasn’t quite following. This conversation had just had too many twists and turns, and he was muzzy-headed as all get-out.
“To the forge so your happy ass can figure out what’s going on. I’d be happy to take you down there.”
Rowdy raised his eyebrows, knowing that his dad would be able to see them over the top of his glasses. “You don’t think that would be some sort of weird imposition?”
He didn’t want to interrupt Brett when he was working.
Okay, well, he wasn’t supposed to want to interrupt Brett when he was working…
“Son, that may be where he works, but it ain’t his land. It’s yours. You own everything here, and you can’t impose on that.”
He pondered that for a second. He supposed Dad had a point.
But he didn’t really want to insert himself into Brett’s joy, did he?
God, that sounded so touchy-feely. What the hell was wrong with him? “Fuck this shit. I’m gonna go down there and see what’s what.”
Dad’s chuckle was altogether too knowing for his comfort. “Good deal. Get your work boots on. I’ll tell one of the boys to get us a side-by-side ready.”
“Can’t we just take the golf cart?” That was so much easier when they were up at the actual house compound. Besides, he liked to drive that. He couldn’t get in near as much trouble as he could in a four-by-four.
“Maddie’s got it. She’s out doing some weird thing with the bulls. Possibly seeing if they need massage therapy so they make more calves. Who the fuck knows. I’m just glad she’s here and working.” Dad patted his arm. “I’ll be back. You get your hat and get Barney all harnessed up.”
His dad was the man who got shit done.
