I tapped my chin. “You should still get some imaging, though I won’t hold it against you if you don’t go that route.”
“Maybe. If this doesn’t fix it.”
“Deal,” I said, sending Sam a wink.
As I prepped Trip for the shot, Luke and Kit started reminiscing, and Trip suggested they go out to the stallion barn to check out their newest rescue horses. A few more things clicked into place. This was the ranch where Emery and Woody got Stevie’s horses. I remember Rowdy talking about this place. It was special, what they had going on out here.
I had Trip remove his shirt—well done, Sam—and sit with his arm at his side. After sanitizing and anesthetizing the area, I administered the shot and let the cowboy get redressed.
Sam helped him with his shirt and gave him a saucy kiss before sticking his finger in his face. “I’ve got eyes everywhere, lover. If I hear you’ve been using that shoulder, you’ll be sleeping out in the stallion barn with the horses.”
Trip gave Sam a crooked grin, and I bet it was Sam’s favorite. “Yeah, but the tack room is in the stallion barn, so . . .”
Sam rolled his eyes, gave his man another kiss, then smacked his ass and sent him on his way. Once Trip was out of earshot, I gave Sam a high five.
“So, that’s how you get a cowboy to accept some damn help.”
He laughed. “I do what I can.” Gesturing at the empty house, he said, “Looks like Kit and Luke are gonna be busy for a while. Wanna take a quick tour of the place?”
“Lead the way.”
We didn’t get very far—not even past their pool in the back—before Sam turned to me, a glint in his eye.
“Surely you can see why I thought you were two were together, right? I mean . . . Did you see how jealous he got when Joaquin and Warwick hit on you?”
“The two gentlemen in line ahead of me? They’re in a throuple with the cute cub, aren’t they?”
“Colt. And yes,” Sam said, smiling thoughtfully. I wondered what their story was. “Fair warning: if you gave the slightest hint you’d like to be any part of that meat sandwich, they will takeyou into their bunkhouse,” he said, pointing at the bunkhouse in question, “and keep you there until you have been drained of all fluids.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Though, I have to say . . .” His smile was sly. “Kit didn’t seem to like that idea at all.”
My response was automatic. “Kit doesn’t have any say in what I do or don’t do.”
“You sure about that? You should’ve heard him talk to Trip about you.”
“What did he say?”
“Put it to you this way—his recommendation of you wasenthusiastic. And kinda long winded.”
“Long winded? Kit?” I stopped to admire the pool with its grotto, surrounded by trees.
“He spent ten minutes telling us all about how you stayon top of himwhile helping him remain mobile.” Sam popped his brows. “He said you have magic handsandwas smiling and blushing the whole time.”
“Really?”
“Yep.”
I growled under my breath. “That man.”
“Been sending mixed signals, has he?”
“If you could call him laying one on me while very drunk, then asking me to pretend it never happened a mixed signal, then yes.”
Sam whistled under his breath. “That sounds a bit complicated.”
“You have no idea. And I have no clue what to do with him.”
