Page 21 of Wrangled

“You two would have really gotten along. You had the same sense of humor.”

“You mean, twisted?”

I sighed. “Go back to bed, sis. Cuddle up to Newt and have some sweet dreams.”

“Now we’ve got this out into the open—finally—I just might.”

I said good night and hung up. I took a cautious sip of the tea and grimaced.

Hell no, Matt.

A little night air and a stroll would probably have more chance of sending me off to sleep. I went back upstairs, removed my robe, and got dressed. It wasn’t until I was heading back downstairs that it hit me.

I felt a little better.

Maybe Iamfinally healing. I knew one thing for certain—Diana had nailed it with her talk of regrets.

I should have told Kevin how I felt. How much he meant to me.

Except I was kidding myself. He wasn’t the love of my life, and what I regretted wasn’t the stuff Ishouldhave said—it was all the stuff I did say.

If I’d just kept my mouth shut… If I hadn’t have pushed…

I opened the front door and stood on the porch, breathing in the crisp, cold air.

What Iwantedto do was yell into that expanse of night sky, to whichever dimension Kevin Porter was watching me from, and tell him “I’m done with the fucking guilt! You hear me, mister?”

Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted movement. I knew without looking it would be Butch leaving Teague’s cabin. That was no surprise.

It was also none of my business.

Then I reconsidered. If whatever those two had going on went to shit, then itwouldbe my business, especially if it affected the smooth running of the ranch.

Kevin might have coped well with fucking the bossandrunning Salvation, but he’d been a little older than Teague. The trouble was, most of the time I didn’t see Teague as a responsible guy in his thirties—he was still the scared kid I’d found in the barn.

The memory was so sharp, it could have been yesterday.

Kevin and I had met up in the barn like we always did in the days before we made the cabin by the creek our own special hideaway. I’d texted our usual signal—need you. It was still dark, and we had maybe a couple hours before the hands would get up.

Funny thing was, I had no recollection of what had prompted the text. I only knew my need had been acute, and his response swift. We’d met, stripped, and he’d taken whatever it was that had troubled me, and made it melt away with a combination of ropes, fingers, tongue, and cock. When we were done, he kissed me, and told me what a good boy I was. Then he’d headed out to his cabin to get ready for the day, and to shower off any remnants of our encounter.

And then I learned we’d been observed…

2004

As I was leaving the barn, I heard movement. Whatever caused it was way bigger than a rat, that was for damn sure.

We’ve got an intruder.

“Who’s there?” I picked up the rifle that stood against the barn door and cocked it. “Get your ass out here where I can see you.”

“Please, don’t shoot.”

It was a young male voice—a scared voice—and I lowered the rifle. A scrawny kid walked out from behind the bales of hay. “I’m sorry. I only came in here for a warm place to sleep.” In the dim light I saw he wore jeans, a T-shirt, and a dark jacket, sneakers on his feet.

“This isn’t a hotel,” I told him. Then a thought came to me. “How long have you been there?”

He coughed. “Long enough.”

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