Landon slumped forward, trusting in his cowboy to catch him. Lord, lord—that was fine.
“I got you, honey.” Adam caught him like he knew would happen, hands strong, easing him down.
“Thank God for favors large and small.”
Adam chuckled, the sound like a chuffing bobcat or swamp kitty. He thought Adam might be getting better at laughing. He nuzzled in, hummed, just about as settled as a doodlebug.
“Missed you.” The words came from Adam, so quiet Landon wondered if he imagined them.
“I hear that.” He kissed Adam’s collarbone, tongue slipping out to gather the salt of his cowboy’s skin.
“What am I going to do about you?”
“Keep me. Possibly feed my skinny ass.”
“I could do that.” Adam pulled back to stare into his face. “You look wrung out, honey.”
“I rode, though, so it’s worth it.”
“Made you some travel money, huh?” Adam stroked his hair. “Whatcha want to eat?”
“Mmm. Chili burgers and onion rings.”
“We can do that.” He got him another kiss, Adam loving on him a moment.
He curled in and settled, exploring, eyes counting dark hairs, silver ones. They relaxed together, just breathing a good long while. At least until Landon’s belly rumbled. Hard.
Adam snorted. “Time to feed you.”
“Me?” He fluttered his eyelashes, playing. Flirting.
“Hell, yes. Look at me. Calling room service.”
He watched, tickling Adam’s ribs as the man reached for the hotel phone. They tussled a moment, laughing, breathless. God, he loved this. So much. Adam seemed younger when he played.
Landon ended up with his cheek on Adam’s thighs, tracing weird little scars. One traveled like a river, twisting down around the back of Adam’s knee.
He’d bet it was from the tip of a rope. It wasn’t rough enough to be barbed wire. A puncture just below the hip, now, that might have been a horn. Maybe a steer. He kissed it, tongue sliding around the edge, and Adam’s words slowed, stuttered.
“No. Chili-size. Right. The burger.” Adam sounded like he’d swallowed a frog.
Mmm. Chili. Cheese. Beef. He sucked up a mark, right under the scar.
“Uh-huh.” Adam’s voice rose on the last syllable. “Sorry. Yeah. Coffee and iced tea.”
God, this was fun. He nibbled along Adam’s inner thigh, going for more entertainment value. It worked. Adam twitched, grunting.
“You smell like home.” He murmured the words, sucking up a tiny mark.
“Do I?” Adam hung up and grinned at him. “Like swamp water and moss?”
“Like ’gator jerky.” He could tease back, him. He knew silly words. He and Sister traded them all the time.
“Oh, I like it. I smell like fishy chicken.” Adam whacked his hip.
“Toothy, too. Don’t forget that.”
“With scales.” They wrestled a little, Adam easier, happier.
