Page 79 of Brett and Rowdy
Rowdy tilted his head, the clang of metal on metal catching his attention. The rhythm was strong and steady, almost enough to dance to, and all of the sudden, he ached to actually see Brett striking the hot, glowing metal with the hammer.
He needed to watch those muscles clench and release, to watch that strong body, which had been formed by hours and hours of lifting that heavy hammer over and over, sweat pouring down his lover’s body, darkening his shirt.
If he was wearing a shirt…
Oh, fuck him raw, that would be hot as hell.
He’d touched all of those muscles, and those arms and shoulders. He knew how Brett was built and how things would flex and move…
“Son, I need you to wipe that look right off your face.” Dad hopped out and came around to get him, the dogs circling around them like wolves. Goofy, loud stinky wolves. “I don’t want to know what you two do when I’m not around.”
“You don’t want me to tell you?—”
“La la la! I can’t hear you!”
He cracked up. “I feel you. You know how I am with Maddie, and that girl overshares like whoa.”
“Tell me about it. It’s damn unnatural. I blame her momma. That woman is an open book.”
“Yes, sir.” Ash could be open here. No one was going to judge or question or anything. No one knew her folks or her past—they just took her at face value.
“Come on.” Dad led him along a short path to the forge, where the sound of metal on metal was huge and filled his ears. Add to that Mr. Mann’s baying and the roar of the fire, and it was a bit like being whacked in the face with a ball.
The heat was oppressive, but the smells immediately distracted and fascinated him. He started sorting scents, identifying them—charcoal and wood burning, sweat and a hint of Ivory soap, a tang of metal and the weird earthy scent of what was possibly cast iron that tantalized him.
He breathed deep, and his dad slipped away, leaving him feeling a little disoriented.
“Hey!” He was calling to his dad, but the clanging stopped.
“Hey.” Brett moved over to him, boots clonking on the dirt floor. “You okay?”
“Yeah, I got my dad to bring me down to see what you were up to, but he just dropped me here. Butthead. He knew I didn’t have Barney with me.”
“He’s right here, along with the shortest little seeing eye basset ever. Hey, buddy!”
Mr. Mann woofed and wagged and wiggled, tail banging Rowdy’s leg.
“So your dad was being an old butthead, huh?” Brett tugged him close. “Sorry if I stink.”
“Nope.” It was intense, but not bad. “I mean, you have that charred smell…”
“Mmm. Tasty.”
“Hey, don’t knock it. You know how I feel about my steaks.”
“I do.” Brett dropped a kiss on his mouth, and he filled his lungs with his lover’s breath. “So, what are you up to, honey?”
“Just curious to see what you were doing down here.” He chuckled and shook his head. “Well, maybe not see…”
“You can say see. I get what you mean.”
“Okay then.” He heard Mr. Mann sniffing around, and he reckoned the shepherds and Dad’s dogs had gone on. “He won’t hurt himself, will he?”
“Mr. Mann? Nah. In fact, he’ll get bored and go lay outside to wait for us in the golf cart.”
“Shit, I thought Maddie had it.”
Brett’s low chuckle made him lean hard on the man. “You have more than one.”
