“I hope he’s keeping those goats under control—I can’t see that ceasefire lasting. Diablo’s always hatedthem.”
“Told him if they eat his saddle blanket again, I’m eatingthem.”
Dave grinned, Christian grinned back, and their fight felt like it’d happened a long, long time ago. This new thing between them felt like permanence. Everything else lay in the past, forgotten. And forgiven.
“You’re really okay going home?” Dave asked, after a moment. Because what was between them was different now, but nothing had changed back at the ranch. Except for Christian. Maybehe’dchanged, and maybe that would be enough.
Christian looked at him, before reaching out and tucking a stray piece of hair behind Dave’s ear. “Yeah,” he said. “I am.”
Dave didn’t say anything for a moment. Then he reached for Christian’s hand and gave it a short, awkward squeeze. They didn’t really do that kind of thing, but something not unlike a smile showed in Christian’s eyes. As if he didn’t actually hate it.
“And anyway, I figure anywhere’s good if I’ve got you,” Christian added.
Dave glanced down at their hands. “Even with the tea?”
“Even with the tea,” Christian said. He didn’t let go right away, his thumb brushing over the back of Dave’s hand like he couldn’t quite help himself. The way Dave had always wished for, always hoping Christian would somehowclaimhim when they were out somewhere together. Not in a possessive way, just to let people know they were together. Instead of which, Christian had…
Dave drew a deep breath because he knew he needed to say it. He just wasn’t sure how Christian would take it.
“There’s something I need to tell you,” he said, and his voice came out sounding like he was about to announce a death. Maybe he was. Maybe he was asking for too much.
Certainly, Christian stiffened, his eyes on Dave’s face suddenly alert and worried.
“I hate how you let people flirt with you in front of me.”
It came out in a tangled rush, and Christian took an agonizingly long moment to pick the words apart.
Once he had, he shrugged. “Then I won’t do it,” he said, without a hint of reluctance. Like it was the simplest thing in the world. And maybe it was—maybe Dave had made it harder than it needed to be.
As his gaze lingered on Dave’s, Christian’s eyes darkened. “I didn’t know,” he said. “I was hurting you, and I didn’t even know.”
“Because I didn’t tell you,” Dave said swiftly. “You asked, I just couldn’t say it.”
And before they could get into a circle of who could blame themselves the most, he nudged Christian’s arm. “Doesn’t mean you can’t flirt withme,” he pointed out.
Christian’s lips tugged up in a smile. “Flirting’s only fun when it’s a sure thing anyway.”
Dave huffed, but couldn’t help the grin spreading across his face. “You’re impossible.”
“Still counts if it’s with your mate, right?”
“Yeah,” Dave said, and he reached for Christian’s hand again. “Especially then.”
For a while, neither of them moved. The air felt lighter somehow, and even the faded drapes looked bright again, just in that moment.
Then Christian nodded toward Dave’s packed bag. “Figure we settle our account, and I’ll drop the truck off when I pick up my gear from the pack’s house.”
Dave glanced sideways at him, because there’d been uncharacteristic uncertainty in his voice. “You think they’ll be okay about you taking the truck?”
Christian shrugged. “Doubt I’ll be the most popular person around after walking out on those fights last night, but I’ll tell them my mate was hurt and I needed to get to him. They’ll understand.”
Dave thought back to Barton, to the indefinablesomethingin his eyes that had made him shiver. He wasn’t so sure.
“You really need to get your stuff?” he said. “Maybe we could just leave the truck here for them to find.”
“Nah, I need to make it right,” Christian said. “Can’t risk any bad blood between Barton and Matt if they ever find out where we’re from.”
Dave hadn’t thought of that.
