Chapter Fourteen
“So, fill me in, Tag.” Jason stared right at him with those sightless eyes as soon as Landon was out of earshot. “What did you do to fuck up with that little Cajun?”
Adam bit back a curse and took a nice long sip of beer before he said a word. He wasn’t gonna rise to the bait. “Same thing I always do, I reckon.”
“Man, you might try doing something different this time.”
He chuckled, hoping he didn’t sound bitter or nothin’. Coke and Dillon, Beau and Sam were all carefully not looking at him. Damn their cowardly souls. “That’s the plan, Jase. How you feelin’?”
“Fine. You know how it is. Tomorrow I’ll be limping around sore as a bitch, but I’m good tonight.”
“Just don’t try to drive Andy’s truck, huh?” He chuckled when everyone else cracked up.
“You got my word.” Jason sucked on his beer, leaned back in his chair, balancing easily.
Adam felt damned lucky to call these men friends. He was just sorry Landon had felt the need to go. Of course, he wasn’t one hundred percent sure he’d have done anything different inLandon’s boots. Hell, he might have got up and bashed someone in the nose.
That would be hot, actually, watching Landon beat the living fuck out of someone. The little Cajun had it in him to stand up. Adam had seen it now.
Adam grinned, which had Dillon raising a brow at him. Right, he was still right there. He winked at the clown, keeping it easy, and it was Beau who chuckled.
“You got wickedness in that brain of yours, Adam Taggart.”
“Me? Oh, maybe.” He was wicked a lot. Not as much as he’d like lately, of course.
Sammy snorted, spilling his beer as he did.
“Hey, you just quit that.” Adam grinned at Sam. “I named my dog after you.”
“’Cause you want me bad.”
Everyone started laughing at that one. It was good, when Sammy came back like his old self. Really good, even if Adam hated to admit it. Which come to think of it, he didn’t, maybe for the first time. Sam loved Beau, better than he had, which was good, because Adam knew there was a Cajun he’d leave Beau for in a heartbeat.
Landon.
It hit him like a sledgehammer to the gut. His Cajun was right there, just on the other side of the big barn, and the son of a bitch loved him, too. He knew it. So, why was he sitting here sucking down warm beer and shooting the shit when he could be there? With Landon.
Kissing that hungry, wicked mouth, over and over. Touching the tight ass and hard dick.
His cock rose behind his zipper, and he tried hard not to let everyone see. Adam willed it to go down so he could stand up and not embarrass himself. No one needed to see his hard-on in full profile.
Pharris was dozing in his chair, hand wrapped loosely around the beer bottle, Dillweed grinning at him like the biggest dork on earth.
Adam winked, then got up and headed off, not bothering to say goodnight. They would get it or not, the rest of them. He found he really didn’t give a shit right now. He needed to see Landon, to talk to the man, even if that was it.
He needed Landon to meet his eyes again.
The amount of gumption it took to knock on the door of Landon’s room surprised him. He wiped his hands on his jeans, straightening his shoulders afterward. He felt like a kid who’d fucked up and whose momma had told him sorry wasn’t good enough.
The door opened, Landon standing there in a pair of jeans and nothing else, and damn, that wasn’t fair. Not at all.
“Cher.” Those dark eyes met his, the look like a physical blow. Landon wasn’t so much angry as hurt. Adam could read it all, right there.
“Hey.” He scuffed one boot heel on the dirt. “Can I come in?”
“It ain’t all fancy, but come on. There’s a chair.” The door was held open, the area simple—a bed, a chair, a dresser, a lamp, and a little dorm fridge. Clean and neat, it smelled like leather and citrus.
“It’s nice.” He’d never even seen this place. Huh. Adam stepped in, taking his hat off.
