Page 22 of Wistful in Wyoming
Jeremiah sighed and confessed, “I was panicking last night, not knowing what to wear, so I called her for help.”
Taking his eyes off the road for a moment, Dale let his gaze roam the other man’s body in a sensual caress before putting his attention back where it belonged. “I’ll have to thank her then because you looked hot as hell last night. Just like today.”
His cheeks and ears pinkening, Jeremiah ducked his head, and Dale felt like he’d been punched in the chest. One day soon, he fully intended to see how far that blush extended down Jeremiah’s pale, freckled skin. He wanted nothing more than to strip Jeremiah bare, trace those freckles with his tongue, and see if the rancher tasted as sweet as he looked.
Shifting his hips, he tried to unobtrusively adjust his half-hard dick, a perpetual state of being when he was around the other man.
“Where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise.” Grinning, Dale tried to keep his excitement contained. He hoped the date he’d planned went well. It was the perfect day for a picnic—a sky the color of forget-me-nots, with scattered dandelion-fluff clouds, a gentle breeze, and a comfortable temperature in the midseventies.
They drove west for another forty minutes or so, past seemingly endless fields of crops and rolling pastures with grazing cattle and horses, before a copse of pine and spruce trees took their place on either side of the road. The conversation flowed freely between the two men, and Dale hadn’t been able to squelch the urge to reach over, grab Jeremiah’s hand, and thread their fingers together, resting them on the bench seat. Jeremiah’s shy smile lit up his face, warming more than just Dale’s heart.
When he spotted the left-hand turn he’d been looking for, Dale steered onto an unmarked dirt road. Wild grass, weeds, and flowers flanked them, and the sweet scent of honeysuckle wafted through the open windows. The truck bounced over ruts, pebbles, and grapefruit-sized rocks, the road probably not having been maintained since its creation. He lowered the speed to a little more than a crawl to avoid damaging the undercarriage of his truck. While the vehicle was made for heavy-duty work and travel, there was no point risking getting stuck there.
“Where are we?” Jeremiah asked as they pulled to a stop in a small clearing. There was nothing to see but a half-hidden trail through the trees on the left. There were no other vehicles and no signs indicating where they were. Dale had really hoped Jeremiah wouldn’t be familiar with the site, even though he was a Rock native. Dale had only found it a few weeks ago while taking a drive one day to relax and explore the area. It was something he liked to do occasionally, find places that were off the beaten path. He’d come back to this exact spot several times since—always alone. However, he was looking forward to sharing it with Jeremiah and seeing the man’s reaction when they got to their final destination.
“Come on, cowboy.” Unable to hold back his grin, he hopped from the truck and walked around to the bed, where he retrieved a hiking backpack, a small cooler, that he’d loaded with their food and a few other things, and a large, flannel blanket which he handed to Jeremiah when he joined him.
Jeremiah glanced from the items to the path in the trees and then back to Dale’s face. “I feel like I’m either going to love this or a machete-wielding lunatic is going to run out here, screaming at us, and we’ll never be heard from again.”
Laughing, Dale grasped Jeremiah’s hand and gave it a tug. “If a murderer comes after us, I’ll protect you, I promise. I’m a Marine, remember? I can take Jason, Freddy, or Michael,” he assured him, rattling off the names of famous movie serial killers. “Not too sure about Bigfoot though.”
Giggling—Oh my God, he’s giggling! How adorable!—Jeremiah laced their fingers together. “Thanks—I feel so much safer already.”
They started for the trail, and the smile on Dale’s face was so full it practically hurt, but he didn’t care. “So, I take it you don’t like horror movies?”
“Are you kiddin’? Ilovehorror movies. I remember watching Nightmare on Elm Street, Halloween, and Friday the Thirteenth at least three times each in the theater, and then over and over again when they came out on video. Of course, they don’t hold up against the stuff that comes out now, the graphics and fake blood were just terrible, but I loved them.”
As his laughter spewed forth, Dale jostled the cowboy’s shoulder with his own. Images of holding a terrified Jeremiah close as they watched a scary movie were very appealing. “That surprises me—I thought you and Willow were addicted to Hallmark movies.”
“I am, but I can love horror too. I get into the whole thirty days of Halloween thing every October.” Jeremiah squeezed his fingers, rubbing his thumb across the back of Dale’s hand as the path ended and they stepped out into a clearing, right in front of a small sand and rock-strewn beach. Stretching out into the distance before them was a serene lake fed by a snow-capped mountain rising high above it on the far side. The sunlight sparkled off the crystal-blue water, reflecting the sky in a near perfect mirror image. Small ripples appeared as fresh-water fish rose to the top before descending again. A bald eagle screeched overhead then took a nosedive to the surface of the lake, its claws extended, snatching up a nice-size perch to take back to its nest. The beauty of the scenery stole his breath as it did every time he came there.
Glancing over to Jeremiah, Dale sharply inhaled. Sheer joy looked amazing on his rancher, who tipped his hat back in awe as he stared out over the water. The wind rustled the grass at their feet as songbirds and ravens called to each other from the trees. A pair of trumpeter swans and a flock of mallards skated across the glassy lake. The majesty of nature was all around them, in all her glory, but Dale couldn’t peel his eyes from Jeremiah. The man was beautiful, and everything else Mother Nature could come up with paled in comparison.
“What is this place?” Jeremiah whispered reverently as if not wanting to disturb their surroundings.
“I found it by accident one day and did some research. It’s Lake Anokasan, which is Sioux for eagle. Most of the area surrounding it is private land, but this section is public.”
“This is ... wow ... I’ve never been here before.” Pivoting, he met Dale’s gaze. His voice cracked as he added, “Thank you for bringing me here. It’s beautiful.”
Dale’s heart skipped a beat, seeing Jeremiah’s bright and glossy eyes. No force on Earth could have kept Dale from kissing him right then. He set the pack and cooler on the ground, then took the blanket from Jeremiah and laid it on top of them before drawing the cowboy into his arms. Wrapping one arm around the man’s waist, Dale cradled Jeremiah’s jaw with his other hand. The green of eyes glistened like jewels in the sunlight.
“Breathtaking,” Dale murmured before lowering his head and taking Jeremiah’s mouth in a deep kiss. Jeremiah’s lips were soft and firm beneath his own. He pressed closer, aligning their bodies as he swiped the man’s bottom lip with his tongue, then moaning as he gained entry into his mouth. The taste of his rancher exploded on his tongue—cinnamon toothpaste and something unidentifiable that was all Jeremiah. Need settled in Dale’s gut and cock. He wanted this man in a way he’d never wanted anyone else.
Tearing his mouth free, Jeremiah tucked his face into Dale’s neck, both his hands pressing against the small of Dale’s back, keeping them connected. “Dale,” Jeremiah whispered. “You ... God, I want you so much.” Jeremiah trembled in his arms, vibrating with need.
“Me too, Jay, me too.” Lifting his arms, he knocked Jeremiah’s hat into the dirt and buried both hands into his hair. He watched, fascinated, as the sunlight made the strands sparkle and shift from darkest auburn to strawberry and amber. Dale could paint a sunset with the colors he discovered there. “I want my hands all over you. My mouth. Everything.”
“No argument here.” Jeremiah chuckled, and the vibrations pulsated against Dale’s chest.
He wanted to feel the arch of Jeremiah’s back, the press of his skin, and his muscles trembling with ecstasy. He wanted to swallow Jeremiah’s moans and taste his pleasure. Dale’s desire for this man was visceral—a living, breathing animal within him, clawing to the surface.
“But we agreed to take this slow, right?” With a bit of mischief in his eyes, Jeremiah took a step back. “So, show me what’s in that backpack.”
“Yes. Slow. You’re right. Of course. Yes. Sure.” Dale was babbling but unable to stop the vomit of halting words spilling from his mouth. He scratched his head and glanced around. “Go slow, yup. We did say that. Of course, it’s the best idea. This isn’t just sex. We’re dating, likereallydating, and that’s important.”
Grinning, Jeremiah broke into his rambling. “Dale.”
