Page 2 of Holding On to a Hero
Chapter Two
Jason
When I walked out of the bedroom my amazing and beautiful boyfriend was standing at the kitchen counter, looking at his phone while sipping a cup of coffee. I felt a rush of lust and affection as I admired him. I had to agree with his millions of fans, he should walk around shirtless all the time. His blue-black hair was sticking up all over, and his thin blue pajama pants outlined his package and his ass pretty nicely. I smiled in appreciation as I sauntered over to kiss him on the cheek.
Cole looked up and grinned. “Guess what!”
“Okay, what?”
He set down his coffee cup and grabbed my hand. “Kinky Friedman responded to my email! He answered a bunch of my questions and he has some great advice!” Cole was practically vibrating from excitement.
I barely refrained from shaking my head at him. It never failed to amaze me how astonished Cole was when people he looked up to paid attention to him. He might be a huge movie star – well, ex-movie star now – but inside he was still a geeky 17-year-old kid. We’d toured Jon Stewart’s farm animal sanctuary last year and he’d been generous with his advice, but somehow Cole was fangirling more over an elderly eccentric country singer/mystery writer/political candidate/animal rescue founder.
I hugged him. “That’s fantastic! He’ll be able to give you lots of tips for the ranch.” Then I pulled back and gave him a mock worried look. “Wait, does this mean that we have to listen to his music again?” After the last time Cole spoke to Kinky on the phone he’d played the man’s very interesting back catalog for days.
Cole huffed and rolled his eyes at me. ”Don’t worry, I’ll just give him a shout out on social media.”
I laughed and tugged on his hand. “Walk me to the truck. Brian and I have a meeting with a client this morning.”
Cole followed me out the front door, across the porch and down the steps to my truck. I opened the door and turned back to kiss him. I’d intended it to be a quick peck, but Cole snaked his hand behind my head and slipped his tongue between my lips. I groaned as I pulled his hips to mine with both hands. Heat flashed from my mouth to my groin.
He finally released my mouth and breathed into my ear, “Now you won’t forget me while you’re gone.”No kidding. We’d been together for a couple of years now, and we’d had our share of relationship ups and downs, but this intense chemistry had never changed.
Suddenly Cole stiffened in my arms and yelled, “Shit!” I went into protective mode and spun us so I was between him and whatever he’d seen behind me.Fuck. That photographer again. And his camera.
A few weeks back, the guy had started showing up. One day early on he’d actually had the balls to come to the front door. Cole was home alone and he’d had to threaten the guy with the shotgun we kept for coyotes.
The jerk always parked a good ways down the road, which was odd since it wasn’t like we couldn’t see his truck. After that one visit to the house he’d stayed in the wildlife preserve across the road. The preserve was open to the public from dawn til dusk, so Cole and I couldn’t do anything to stop him. Fortunately he always left after only a couple of hours, but Cole was forced to stay out of sight while the asshole was over there. We’d already had plans for a privacy fence drawn up.
But this, this was bad. Cole wasn’t prepared to be outed today.
“I can cut him off,” I told Cole as I moved to get into my truck.
Cole grabbed my arm. “Don’t do anything stupid.”
“Cole, I’m just going to talk to him and ask to see his pictures.”
“No threats. No bullying. If I have to come out now, I will. It’s not worth you going to jail.”
“You’re not coming out until you’re ready. It’ll be fine.” I hoped. I leaned back toward him and gave him a quick kiss. “If nothing else I’ll get his license plate number.” I was kicking myself for not doing that already.
“I’ll get my phone and call the cops if he tries anything.”
“He won’t. I’ll call you from the road on my way to town. Go back inside.”
“Yes,sir!” I winced as he stomped away and slammed the front door. Maybe my tone could have been a little less authoritarian. But this shit had to be dealt with now. I could soothe Cole’s feelings later.
I jumped into the pickup and a tight U-turn had me barreling down the gravel driveway, checking my rearview mirror to make sure Cole stayed inside the house. This being Texas, the paparazzo could have a gun on him. I myself was armed, but I wasn’t planning to let the asswipe know about it. Probably.
By the time I got to the end of the driveway the paparazzo had made a respectable dent in the distance to his truck. He might’ve made it if he’d chosen to run, but he was only walking quickly.
Once I pulled onto the road the jerk decided to stop pretending he didn’t know I was coming for him. He stood still and put what looked like a folding stool and a tripod on the ground. He brought the camera to his face and started taking photos of me as I came to a stop on the road opposite him.
I opened my door and got out. I held my hands up and said, “I just want to talk.”
He pulled the camera away from his face. “Okay. So talk.”
I examined him. He was good looking in a used-to-be-a-twink sort of way. Maybe late thirties. About 5’8” with dark blond hair. Round cheeks rose from a stubbly jaw. A narrow nose with a cute little upturn at the end. I couldn’t tell what color his eyes were from here. He had on cargo pants and a faded black t-shirt that showed off some nice arms and pecs. Under other circumstances he would have been just my type. Just Cole’s type too. I pushed that thought away for later.
