Wick’s jaw tenses and he kicks a rock across the pathway. “Okay, but you gotta know Colt is a feelings guy.”
I snort, shaking my head, even though Wick’s observation is more accurate than even Colt himself knows. “Not according to his history. His days on the rodeo circuit are filled with stories of random buckle bunny hookups, secret liaisons with not-quite-out rodeo kings, and, I’m told, a questioning country music star or two.”
“Oh, come on. That was just the circumstance of his career, not who he is on the inside. You can’t ignore the fact that he has squish. Look at our threesome. He was soft all over the place.”
Shrugging, I keep my expression carefully neutral despite reveling in Wick’s words. I especially love the way he uses the wordsquishbecause…yes. It’s sensory and visual and exactly what Colt is at his very core. I tuck away the lush feeling that word gives me. I’ll use it later, maybe when I shower tonight.
“The fuck?” Wick spits out, having no idea how his distress makes my middle-aged heart swoon. “You don't care that you could hurt his feelings?”
As if Wick hasn’t been subconsciously ignoring the true depth of Colt’s feelings for him this entire time.Still, his protective ire is entirely endearing and everything a man like Colt deserves. I bite my lip while I catch his eye. He stops in his tracks, his mouth hinged open.
“No fucking way. Doyouhave squish forhim?” His tone is accusatory, even as his voice pitches up. Que chulo.How cute.
“Colt’s a squishable guy. So…maybe?” I smile to myself, thinking about what it was like to wake up to such sweetness. “At first, I thought I’d continue my arrangement with the guy at my previous ranch, but this thing with Colt…neither of us are much interested in sharing.”
I try not to enjoy the slightly enraged look on Wick’s face. I’m not exactly successful. Fuck, this disgruntled pout of his is going to be the end of me. I have to ball my hands into fists to prevent myself from grabbing him and kissing him stupid.
“That's not a muddied line, my dude. That's just muddy. And he’s, like,maybetwenty-eight.”
Ah, again with throwing up the age as an excuse. He’s so transparent that he might as well be glass.
“Actually, he's going to turn thirty in two months, and Colt is a man who knows his own mind. By the way, so do I. And I’ve happily enjoyed my sex life this way for many years with no drama. Be careful not to put your nose where it doesn’t belong.”
Am I unfairly poking at him? Yes.
Am I also enjoying this a little more than I should? Pues, si.
Wick spreads his arms wide. “But he could gethurt. Blurred lines hurt people like him.”
Got him.
I let Wick see my amusement.
“People like him, or people like you?”
“Fuck all the way off,” he says, walking away from me.
I grin at the back of his head. “I’m still your boss, Wick.”
“Not about this. If you hurt him—” He stops short, biting off the rest as he turns to glare at me.
“Oh, don’t stop there,Francis. Finish the sentence. If I hurt him,what?” I ask, putting my hands on my hips. I can't wait for whatever his answer is.
He gets up in my face, ignoring that I just first-named him. “If you hurt that sweet man, I'll not only beat the shit out of you, I'll make sure that you never work in this area again.You leave him alone.”
I lean in and whisper in his ear. “Is it because you're the only one who can hurt him like that? Do you not want me edging in on your territory?”
He opens his mouth, and I'm sure he’s just about to give it to me when Trip walks up.
“You two have a problem here?”
Grinning like a jackass, I shake my head. “Not at all. We were just talking about the Longhorn defense and whether or not they’re going to actually bring it this season.”
Trip snorts. “I stay out of TU problems. I hear it’s another one of their ‘rebuilding’ years.”
Ouch. I mean, he’s right, but still. And calling the school TU instead of UT is just another dig.
Trip looks around, changing the subject. “It’s sorta barren here, right?”
