Timing (300 page)

he calls ranch hands.”

“What the hell are you talkin’ about?” Rand yelled at him.

“What the hell am I talkin’ about? You got ten of the hardest men

I have ever met in my life working with you out on that ranch of yours,

Rand Holloway. With it still growin’, soon it’ll be like you got your

own army.”

“We’re a family.”

“JC McGraw told it different in town a few days back.”

“JC McGraw is homophobic piece of shit.”

“That’s what I heard from Kate Tunston, who I guess is your new

feed supplier, seein’ as Declan Crawford is refusing to do any more

business with you.”

“What does that have to do with—”

“Nothin’, I just wanted you to know that what you do out on your

ranch is your own damn business.”

“Well, thank you very much.”

“And I know that you can protect Mr. Joss better’n I can.”

“I have no doubt.”

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“With all that said—if he sets foot out of the state, I will throw

the both of you in jail for obstruction.” He turned to look at me. “Am I

makin’ myself clear, Mr. Joss?”

“Yessir, Sheriff Colter.”

He smiled widely, gesturing at me. “He’s a helluva lot more

respectful than you, Rand Holloway.”

“Give it time,” Rand smirked at him. “He’ll hate you too.”

I sighed deeply. “Sheriff, I have a life to go home to.”

“This here is your life now, Mr. Joss.”

Rand could not have looked more pleased.

I CALLED Knox on my way back to the ranch. When he didn’t pick up,

I tried to e-mail him from the computer in Rand’s den.

“This is so weird,” I told the man hovering over me. “I mean, he’s

never gone, and he always answer my e-mails right away because he’s

always online. He can answer from his phone if he wants.”

“Which, to me, is givin’ up way too much of your time,” Rand

assured me, flopping down into the leather chair in front of his desk,

across from me.

“Crap, I have a shitload of things to do at work.”

“Well, I suggest you call someone and get to it.”

“What’re you talking about?”

“You have your laptop, you can use my fax machine and my

Internet, and you can even use my phone if you need to. I don’t see

what you can’t do from right here.”

“Rand, I don’t actually do my work in a vacuum. I go outside and

meet people and look at property and—”

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“Not this week, you don’t,” he said. “Besides, it’s Sunday, and

we both know”—he stopped talking to yawn—“that you don’t

normally work on Sunday.”

“You work on Sunday.”

“Not usually. I had to this morning because of all the wedding

crap that ate into my time, but Sunday’s my normal sittin’ around and

do nothin’ day.”

I squinted at him.

“What?”

“There’s no way you ever just do nothing.”

“Oh no? You don’t believe me?”

“No, I don’t believe you.”

“Well, how ’bout you fix us somethin’ to eat, and I’ll run on into

town and pick us up some movies, and we’ll waste the day.”

“You’re on. I can’t wait to see what kinda movies you pick.”

“Well, I like action movies,” he said, like that was a surprise.

“And you like, what… musicals?”

I flipped him off.

“Chick flicks?”

“I will seriously end you,” I said, answering the e-mails that were

flooding my inbox.

I thought he had left, but he suddenly ran a hand through my hair.

Looking up, I received a kiss on my forehead.

“Stay inside the house, you understand?”

“Yessir.” I couldn’t control my grin. “Nice that you’re worried

about me.”

“I almost lost you today,” he said, his hand stroking my hair.

“And any second now, this nice frosty composure you got goin’ on is

gonna crack wide open and you’re gonna be a basket case. Just wait

until I get back to freak out so I can hold you, all right?”

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The image of Mrs. Freeman lying in her own blood came back to

me, but I pushed it aside, thinking of work instead. “I never lose it.”

“Okay,” he agreed, bending closer to me. “Now gimme a kiss.”

I turned and kissed him, and he licked his lips as he straightened

up.

“Anybody ever tell you that you taste like peaches?”

“I do not,” I grumbled, shoving him away from me.

“Yeah, ya do,” he said, the deep voice rumbling in his chest as he

crossed the room away from me. “And I love peaches—peaches are my

favorite.”

“I want ice cream too,” I called after him.

“I eat a lot of peaches.”

“Give it a rest!”

“Yessir,” he yelled back from the stairs.

Peaches. What the hell was that about?

I worked for an hour, e-mailing everyone I knew at the company

to try to find someone to tell me where Knox was. It was a really bad

time for my boss to be MIA.

When I got bored, I strolled downstairs and out the screen door to

the porch. I was surprised to find two men there, one with a shotgun

across his lap.

“Hi,” I greeted them, trying not to sound as nervous as I felt.

The first man touched the brim of his cowboy hat before returning

his gaze to the road leading up to the house. The other man smiled wide

and walked over to me, his hand out.

“Hey there.” His grin was effortless and infectious, and I found

myself having to return it. “I’m Dustin, Dusty, and you must be Stefan

Joss.”

I took the offered hand. “I am. Who’s your friend?”

“That there’s Everett.”

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I nodded. “What is it that you guys are doing here, Dustin?”

“We’re just watchin’ out for you until the boss gets back.”

“I see.” I smiled at him. “And if someone you guys didn’t know

came up the drive, then what would you do?”

“We would see who they were and then—”

“Are you sure?” I asked him.

He let out a quick breath. “I know you think you know all about

Texas, Mr. Joss, but we don’t really shoot first and ask questions later.

We’re all God-fearin’ men, and we don’t just kill people with no

cause.”

“He doesn’t,” Everett chuckled, looking over his shoulder at me.

“I’m a shoot first kinda guy, Mr. Joss. Any car I don’t know starts up

this drive and they’re dead. Those were my boss’s words to me, and he

is the law on this ranch.”

“But you would have to answer to the real law, the law of the

state of Texas, if you did something illegal to someone even on this

ranch.”

“Not likely,” he said, returning to his vigil. “It’s called

trespassin’, Mr. Joss.”

Which basically contradicted everything that Dustin had said only

moments before.

“He’s not right in the head,” Dustin assured me. “We don’t let

him talk to people much.”

They were both there simply to keep me safe. I was very thankful

and told them both so.

“I reckon as long as you keep the boss man lookin’ how he’s been

lookin’ these past four days that we got us a fair trade, Mr. Joss.”

Everett didn’t even turn to look at me when he spoke.

I looked over at Dustin.

“Mr. Holloway is a fair man and a good boss. He pays an honest

wage for an honest day’s work, but ’til this week, I ain’t never seen that

man smile or even heard him laugh.”

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“I kinda like it,” Everett spoke up before shifting his feet on the

porch rail, trading which ankle was on top. “Normally nothin’s right,

and these past four days… everything was.”

“We all had us a good week, Mr. Joss,” Dustin told me, smiling

wide, hands shoved down into his pockets. “Why don’t you go on back

inside, unless you’re fixin’ to go down to the barn and visit your calf?”

“Maybe later,” I said. “Thanks again for being out here.”

“It’s our pleasure,” Everett told me.

I stood there a few more minutes, watching as Dustin took his

seat back beside Everett, seeing them take sips of slowly melting

glasses of iced tea.

Back inside, I wondered about their attitudes. No matter what

they thought of me being gay, they accepted me because of Rand. He

was important to them, and so because I seemed good for him, they

were fine with me being there. It was a lot to take in.

I realized when I was in the kitchen that I was almost asleep on

my feet. The adrenaline rush of running for my life, coupled with how

late I had been up the night before, had taken a toll on me. Climbing the

stairs to the second floor, I walked into my bedroom, but for whatever

reason, I couldn’t make myself go in and lie down. I staggered to

Rand’s room instead and collapsed onto his bed. It smelled like him,

and that was comforting as I closed my eyes.

Something smelled amazing, and my stomach growling finally

woke me up.

“I stopped and got some pulled pork sandwiches for lunch.” Rand

smiled down at me. “I got coleslaw and potato salad and lots of beer.”

I sat up, staring at him.

“Everett and Dusty freak you out?”

“No,” I yawned. “It was sweet of you. Are they still there?”

“Yep.”

“Everett’s a little spooky.”

“Yep,” he agreed.

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“Is he the scariest guy on the ranch?”

“No sir, I’m the scariest guy on this ranch.”

I chuckled. “I’m sure.”

“Then Mac, then Everett.”

I nodded as he put the plate that he had been holding back on the

nightstand.

“You doubt me?”

I shook my head.

“You do, you think I’m fulla shit.”

“No,” I teased him, moving over to him, shifting so I was

straddling his thighs.

His hands went to my hips as he reached up and brushed my hair

out of my eyes. He looked worried.

“What’s wrong?” I asked as I leaned down and kissed him slowly,

taking my time, the kiss becoming consuming, devouring. I let the need

build in him, in me.

“I almost lost you,” he breathed out. “I was really scared.”

“But I’m fine.”

“You were just lucky.”

“I’ve always been lucky.”

“Promise me you’ll be careful from now on.”

“I promise.”

He took shaky breath. “You hate bein’ stuck out here.”

“No,” I said truthfully. “It’s actually kinda nice.”

“You’re lyin’.”

“I am not,” I growled at him. “If I hated it, you would so know.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yes, Rand, I promise you. I show my feelings, I don’t hide shit.”

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175

“Show me,” he ordered as he pushed up into me. “Show me you

love it here.”

I leaned over to the nightstand, and he shivered when he heard me

fumbling in the drawer, knowing what I had retrieved.

“What’s with you?” I chuckled, bending over him.

“I want you.”

“You got me,” I said, my voice husky and deep beside his ear.

His groan was primal and desperate as I kissed down the side of

his neck. When he moved under me, lifting up to dump me down onto

the bed, I smiled up at him. Looming over me, pushing his groin

against my crease, his eyes narrowing in half, the man was the sexiest

thing I had ever seen in my life.

“Rand.”

“Could we just… can I just be inside you? I really need to be in

that tight ass of yours. I need to be in you so I can feel your heart.”

I started stripping under him.

“I can’t… wait,” he growled, yanking my jeans to my knees

before flipping me over on my stomach. I came up on my hands and

knees in the middle of the bed, and he snatched the lube from where I

had dropped it. I heard the quick creak of the lid before a finger slid

down between my cheeks. “Is it okay?”

I gave him quick permission, begging him to forego the usual

readying, the foreplay unwanted, unneeded, as my only desire was to

have him inside me. “Rand, I need you too,” I demanded, letting my

head fall down between my arms. “Fuck me, please, I—”

He silenced me by driving inside, pushing into me, a guttural cry

torn from his chest. “Christ, Stef, you feel so good,” he groaned,

stroking out, then in, pounding into my hole, making me yell his name.

“You’re so tight and hot… I just wanna be right here like this… I never

wanna be anywhere else.”

“Rand,” I whimpered, writhing under him, urging him on, faster,

deeper, and harder. “Rand… please—please.”

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But after the initial rush, he slowed, tender with me because even

though I thought I wanted it rough and hard and fast, I didn’t. I wanted,

like he did, to reconnect, and his closeness would reassure me, not

being pounded down into the bed. And when I finally broke down, he

pulled me into his arms and held me tight. Later, when we were tangled

together so tight that it was hard to tell where I began and he ended, I

fell asleep in his arms.

THE food was good, the man’s skin next to mine even better. I could

not for the life of me stay awake after being made love to and eating.