“We’re like half an hour from the airport,” the driver said in bewilderment. “Do you know how much it’s going to cost you to turn around?”
“I don’t care. There’s something back there I’ve got to finish.”
The driver pulled off at the next exit and parked in the lot for a fast-food restaurant. They were back in civilization now—the buildings dense with nothing except concrete and asphalt in every direction.
“I don’t even know how to do this,” the driver said. So the two of them puzzled over the app until they figured out how to stop the current ride and start a new one. Back to The Bars and Stars. Back to the work he’d left undone.
Chapter 9
At least he hadn’t formally checked out of his room. In his typical slink-away-in-the-dark manner, he’d packed his bags and left without dotting all the i’s. But that meant he had a place to go when he finished mending the fences a painstaking six hours later.
The sun was setting as he twisted together the last strands of wire on the far side of the ranch’s property. If he’d been with Tex, they would have had horses, and the ride home would have been filled with conversation and laughter and appreciation for the purpling scenery around them. Instead, he trudged back across the field alone and on foot, his boots dragging through the long grass.
He arrived at the dining hall to find empty tables and a single waiter sweeping out the corners of the room. The waiter kindly rustled him up a hunk of cheese and a loaf of bread, which he was tempted to gnaw on as he walked from dining hall to guest house. Off to his right, voices sang. Tuesdays were bonfire days, complete with hokey songs and s’mores, but he didn’t have the energy to camp it up tonight. He wanted a bath, a meal, and a bed. He didn’t even care in which order.
When he’d asked his Lyft driver to turn around, he’d had two goals. First, to finish the task he’d been assigned, which he’d done. And second, to hunt down Tex and talk him into giving the two of them a try. If he couldn’t change Tex’s mind, then he would manage without Tex. Somehow. But he was going to finish his time at the ranch, and he wasn’t giving up on Tex without a fight.
Tex might reject him—probably would, given that he already had—but Peyton figured he could make a pretty compelling argument. Aside from the issue of living on opposite sides of the country, the two of them were perfect for each other. Tex was a top, he was a bottom. They were physically attracted to each other, and the sex was through-the-roof hot. They made a good team. Tex liked to give orders and Peyton didn’t mind taking them. Tex had good outdoor skills and Peyton knew his way around a city. But most importantly, Peyton needed discipline and Tex liked to hand it out.
It was silly to let the fact that they’d started as trainer and client get in the way of the relationship they’d been developing, which Peyton was pretty sure had actually been a relationship, despite Tex’s denial. Maybe Tex got afraid sometimes too. So Peyton was going to give him a talking-to, tell Tex they owed it to themselves to try, which was a lesson he’d learned from none other than Tex himself.
But he would have to do all that tomorrow. The flight of stairs up to his room had never seemed so steep or the hallway so endlessly long. By the time he inserted his key into the lock, he almost didn’t have enough strength left to turn it.
“Peyton!”
He let out a shriek at the unexpected greeting. Bread and cheese went flying as he raised his arms to fend off the surprise intruder.
“Whoa, there,” Tex said, holding up his own hands in response. “I know you’re mad at me, but I didn’t expect you to throw bread at me.”
“What are you even doing here?” Peyton rescued the wrapped baguette from the floor, then pointed it at Tex in mock threat. “How did you get in my room?”
“I knocked, but you didn’t answer. I thought you were in here ignoring me so I convinced the front desk to let me have the spare key.”
“If I was ignoring you, you should have stayed ignored.”
“I s’pose.” Tex shuffled his feet shyly. “But I wanted to talk to you, and I was afraid you’d leave before I had the chance.”
“Ididleave.” He walked wearily to the bed so he could take off his boots. “But I came back.”
“Then where’ve you been?” Tex asked as he helped Peyton strip off his boots, which Peyton appreciated. He could barely sit up straight. “I’ve been waiting here for hours.”
“Yeah, well, it was a long job.”
“What was?” Tex stacked the boots tidily next to each other.
“Mending that fence. That was my chore for the day, right? Mend the fence. Well, I did it.”
“By yourself?” Tex whistled. “That’s a lot of fence.”
“You’re telling me.” He’d been too tired to bother feeling proud, but the feeling suffused him now as Tex stood over him, looking down at him with admiration. “I didn’t even take a dinner break,” he said, bragging a little.
“Is that what this is?” Tex picked up the baguette. “You get in the shower. I’ll be back with some real grub.” He opened the door, started to walk through it, then changed his mind and came back for the key. “So you can’t keep me out. I’m going to take care of you, but then we’re going to talk.”
Only Tex’s imminent return and the promise of food gave Peyton the strength to get up and into the shower where the hot water went a long way toward reviving him. By the time he came out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel, Tex had returned with a complete picnic lunch, hamper and all.
“The chicken’s cold,” Tex said as he unpacked the hamper onto the little round table in the corner of the room, “but fried chicken is best cold, if you ask me. And I’ve got cole slaw, potato salad. Even pie for dessert.”
Peyton tucked in without bothering to get dressed first. He didn’t have anything Tex hadn’t seen, and from the way Tex was looking at him, Tex was hungrier for him than he was for chicken.
