“I know. But I wanted you to be comfortable. This is going to be your home for a month, X. And it’s not like you’d let me pay you for all the work you’re doing…”
“I told you, it’s a wedding gift,” I replied, giving him a wink. “That and my presence. You’re welcome.”
Lucas laughed and pulled me into another hug, this one less frantic than the rain-soaked greeting. “You being here is gift enough. Seriously.”
I hugged him back, feeling that familiar warmth in my chest that only Lucas could inspire. God, I’d missed this. Phone calls and texts were great, but nothing beat actually being in the same space as your best friend.
“Alright, enough of this sappy shit,” I said, pulling away. “Where’s the bathroom? I need to assess the damage.”
“Through there.” He pointed to the door I’d noticed earlier. “There’s towels in the cabinet, and I stocked the shower with some of those fancy products you like.”
“You mean basic hygiene products that don’t smell like a twelve-year-old boy’s gym locker?”
“Sure, that.” He grinned. “I’ll let you get settled. Dinner’s in about an hour, but come up to the main house whenever. And Xavier?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m really glad you’re here.”
I watched him leave, closing the cabin door behind him, and stood there for a moment in the quiet. Rain pattered against the roof and windows, a steady rhythm that was almost soothing. I walked to the window and looked out at the ranch, at the hills rolling away into the gray distance, at the puddles forming in the gravel pathways.
This was going to be my life for the next month. No late-night cocktails at my favorite bar. No spontaneous gallery openings. No hookups with beautiful strangers who knew exactly what they were doing. Just rain, grass, cows probably, and a wedding to plan.
I sighed and grabbed my phone, snapping a picture of the cabin’s interior. Within seconds, I’d posted it to my Instagram story with the caption: “Traded Manhattan for Montana. Wait, no. Texas. Same difference. Send help and espresso beans.”
My phone immediately started buzzing with responses, but I ignored them. I needed to shower, change, and mentally prepare myself for dinner with Lucas’s new family. The family he’d built here in the middle of nowhere.
The bathroom was actually nice. It had modern fixtures, a rainfall showerhead, and, to my surprise, heated floors. Someone had put real thought and money into these cabins.Then again, Turner Ranch was charging a premium to get the full ranch experience. Their customers demanded decency.
I stripped off my wet clothes and stepped under the hot water, letting it wash away the travel grime and some of my cynicism.
Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. I had my best friend, a decent espresso machine, and a wedding to plan. I’d survived worse. Like that destination wedding in the Maldives where the bride’s mother got drunk and tried to fight a sea turtle. Or the time a groom’s ex showed up mid-ceremony with a mariachi band.
Cowboys and tumbleweeds? I could handle that.
I hoped.
Chapter 3
Marcus
“You want me to be the officiant?” I balked, staring at Beau from across my desk. “Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure!” Beau smiled, his fingers running over the brim of the cowboy hat in his lap. “Lucas is sure, too. You’re the sheriff and an important man in this town. Not to mention we’ve been friends since the fourth grade.”
I didn’t know what to say. I’d known Beau Turner my entire life, sure. We’d grown up together in this small town, gone through school together, and I’d watched him take over his family’s ranch when his father was ready to retire. But officiating his wedding? That felt like a whole different level of responsibility.
“I appreciate the offer,” I started carefully, “but don’t you want someone with more experience? Like Pastor Tom or?—”
“Pastor Tom retired last month,” Beau interrupted gently. “Moved to Arizona to be with his daughter. The new guy won’t be here for another two weeks. And besides, this isn’t about experience. It’s about having someone who knows us, someone who’s on our side.”
I leaned back in my chair, the leather creaking beneath me. Through my office window, I could see Main Street, quiet asalways in the late afternoon. It was the same street I’d patrolled thousands of times in my police truck. And probably hundreds of times before that as a kid when my father was sheriff of Sagebrush.
“I don’t know, Beau…” I said, shaking my head. “It’s not that I don’t want to do it. You know I’m on your side, like you said. But…”
“It’s a gay weddin’,” Beau nodded. “I understand.” He leaned forward in his chair, lowering his voice. “This town is changin’, Marcus. Gay men are the reason this town is coming back to life. I don’t see why you should have to hide just because you’re the sheriff.”
“It’s an elected position,” I found myself saying. “If I do somethin’ like this… it could mean I lose the next race.”
