“Can you bring me a big glass of iced water along with a pitcher of the same? Thanks, honey.”
“Sure thing, Shea.”
In the meantime, Jake had managed to guzzle half his drink, and though Shea knew it was risky, he also didn’t think the man wanted to end the night puking out his truck window. He plucked the glass out of Jake’s hand.
“Time to settle down now. How about you have some of my barbecue?” He forked some of the meat over, but Jake ignored it and gazed at him with heavy-lidded eyes.
“How does it feel, knowing you’re the subject of so many people’s fantasies?”
Shea swallowed. “Jake—Mr. Axelrod. I think we should be getting back to the ranch. You’re gonna wanna sleep this off before tomorrow. It’s no fun horseback riding with a hangover.”
“Hmm?” Jake leaned his head against the wall. “I wouldn’t mind riding a cowboy.” He started singing to himself. “Giddyap, giddyap. Ride ’em.”
“Okay, time to go.”
Brandi appeared with the water, and he got Jake to drink a glass.
“Can you tell Dusty to put it on my card? He has the number. I gotta get him home before he does somethin’ stupid.”
She giggled. “Looks like you got your hands full. Too bad he’s taken.”
Shea hauled Jake up from his seat and wrapped his arm around him. Together they shuffled to the front, and Shea was on high alert to Jake’s hard body pressed to his and the smell of that damn cologne.
Two weak-kneed idiots weren’t going to do any good. He drew in a deep breath of non-Jake-scented air and pulled the man along. He came willingly, his head lolling against Shea’s shoulder.
“I gotta piss. Lemme go.” Jake shoved him away, surprisingly strong, and Shea grabbed his arm.
“You got no idea where to go. I’ll take you.” He led the unresisting man past his friends.
Jeremiah called out, “Make sure you get home tonight, Shea.”
“Fuck you, Jere.” He half dragged, half pushed Jake into the men’s room. He swayed in front of the urinal. “Jake, we’re here.”
“Huh?” Slow blinks as Jake stared at the urinal. “Oh, yeah.” He pulled at the clasp of his trousers but kept missing. He laughed with the silliness of the very drunk. “I can’t get it to work.” His hands continued to paw at his crotch.
How did he get into this mess? Eyes straight ahead, Shea undid Jake’s pants and pulled down the zipper. “Go ahead, now.”
“I haven’t had anyone take off my pants in over two years. No come, no dicks, no errors.” He shoved his hand into his briefs, pulled himself out, and began to pee.
Shea jerked his gaze away and moved to stand by the door. Jake hummed to himself as he took care of business.
“Are you ready?” Shea asked between gritted teeth. Last time he ever offered a stranger a favor simply because he felt sorry for him. No matter how good-looking he was.
“Thank you.” Serious now, Jake stood in front of him. The top of his slacks remained undone, but at least he’d managed to zip himself up. “I don’t think I can walk to the car on my own.” The laughter in his eyes was gone, and he looked pale and weary.
Something was eating this man up inside, but Shea didn’t think Jake Axelrod was the type to spill his guts to a stranger, especially in the smelly bathroom of the Round Up.
He fastened Jake’s trousers. “C’mon. It’s okay. Everyone needs to let loose once in a while. Wouldn’t be normal if you didn’t.” He put Jake’s arm around his shoulder. “We’ll take it nice and easy-like.” Jake leaned his head against Shea’s, and they made it one slow step at a time out the door and through the bar. Shea ignored his friends’ razzing, concentrating only on getting Jake to his truck.
“Here we go. Now lemme open the door, and I’ll put you in, and then we’ll be gettin’ on back to the ranch.”
He unlocked the Ram, and Jake practically fell inside. When Shea leaned across him to clip on the seat belt, Jake buried his face in his nape.
“You smell good. No one’s touched me in two years, did you know that?”
Shea froze, uncertain what to do or say, so he remained silent while Jake continued to mumble.
“Noooone,nooobody. Nobody loves me.”
