Chapter Fifteen

 

 

TANK WAS right down grumpy about heading back to work. Oh, he was trying not to show it, because Dalton didn’t deserve his grr, but damn, they’d had a good week. A fine one. Durango was a good show, though. Ought to be all right.

They were about half an hour out, Tank leading the way in his truck. Dalton had that trailer to tow.

He’d torn Dalton up, and his sweet lover had taken it and begged for more, over and over. God, Dalton was…. Well, Tank wasn’t sure he had words yet. He was being cautious about that.

He did have to face Dalton’s daddy at work, didn’t he? And his brother.

Tank tapped out a drumline on his steering wheel. That didn’t mean he was ready for all this to end. Damn. He also needed to look into a hotel for the event, and he’d forgot until just now.

He called Dalton on his hands-free.

“Yo.”

“You know what a good hotel is at the event, honey?”

There was a little pause. “I bet they’re pretty full, but you’re welcome to stay with me.”

“You—I would love that, but I don’t want to upset your people.” He thought that fit what he was trying to say.

“They know me and Dustin are queer, Tank. Hell, everyone knew that you turned me down, back in the day. Seriously, though, if you’d rather, I’ll call Bubba and ask him to let me share his trailer and you can stay here. He won’t mind.”

“No. No, I would rather stay with you.” Happy warmth bloomed in his belly.

“Then I guess you don’t need a hotel room.” Butter wouldn’t melt in Dalton’s mouth.

“Nope. Not even a little.” He wanted to hoot and holler, but he settled for a chuckle.

“Okay, then. We’ll be at the Alpen Rose Park. Pops worked a deal.”

“I’ll see you there, huh?” Going back to work suddenly seemed shiny and new.

“Works for me. We’ll take your truck to grab groceries?”

“You know it.” Hell, he was damn near bouncy now, his mood was so improved.

“Rock on. We can get some burgers and chicken and all.”

“Mmm. Marshmallows.” He could murder a s’more.

“You know it.” He swore he could hear the smile in Dalton’s voice. “I like knowing you’ll be in my bed tonight.”

“I do too.” He was gonna run off the road he wasn’t careful. “You think on that for a bit.”

“All the way into town, cowboy.”

“I hear that. See you in a few.” He put their destination into the GPS and headed down the hill. Durango was a pretty little town, with a river and the mountains surrounding it. He liked it, even if it didn’t have a hot springs. It had a narrow-gauge railroad and a great little Thai place—if it was still there….

They pulled into the trailer park, and Dalton hopped out to get his spot at the office. Tank stayed outside, stretching. His back and legs were a little tight.

All that thrusting and pumping.

“Hey, Mr. Tank!” Deb came walking up. “How’s it going?”

“Good. I had an amazing week.” He took the hug she offered gladly. “How’s you?”

“Good. Good. We’ve been having a ball. We’re all set up with a dining fly and grills and all.”

“Yeah? We all having a picnic tonight before work tomorrow?” He and Dalton could get food, for sure.

“You know it. Pops decided to stay home, so we’re cooking brisket and damn the saturated fat.”

“Oh hell yeah. Dalton and I are going to the store. What do y’all need?”

“I got a list. Mostly sides. I’ve been smoking the meat for most of the day.”

“You’re something else, lady.” If Deb retired from rodeo, she could open a restaurant.

“You know I love to grill, and it’s so damn pretty up here.”

“I know. The weather is good too.” He grinned wide. “What are we thinking, heading back toward Texas as it heats up?”

“No shit on that. Of course, we go where they need us, right?”

“Right.” Texas was heating up with the rodeo as well as the weather.

“Still, we have time. Let’s enjoy it. Dalton! Hey you. We saved you a spot.”

“They said.” Dalton hugged Deb, kissed her cheek. “Hey, you old broad. You smell like brisket. Yum.”

“Pops stayed home this time.” She winked. “Tank says y’all are going to the store?”

“Yeah. We are. You got a list?”

“I do. Dustin’s gone with a bunch of guys rafting.”

“Slacker.” Tank chortled. “You’ll be lucky if he comes back.”

“He’s an addict. He’s been four times already.”

Dalton shook his head. “He’s a dork, but we love him. Let me get parked, and I’ll grab your list.”

“You can even sit a few. We won’t eat for three-four hours.”

“Nah, we’ve been sitting in the trucks.” Dalton grinned at Tank, and he nodded.

How could he argue when Dalton wanted to sneak off and spend time with him?

“Go park, you derp.” Deb swatted at Dalton.

Dalton rolled his eyes, but headed off. Tank stretched his neck again, listening to it crack.

“You need to get a massage, Tank.” Deb’s hands landed on his neck, thumbs digging in.

His eyes rolled right back in his head. “Y’all need to get a chiropractor on tour.”

“I’ll talk to Pops.”

Jesus, she was good at that. He wondered if Dalton was too. Maybe he’d ask tonight. Good hands had to run in the family.

“Did y’all have fun in Glenwood? Dalton sent some neat pictures.”

“We had a ball. We hiked and ate and caught up.”

“Good.” Deb found a knot and dug in, making his eyes cross. “I’m glad. Dustin said that there was a little… unwelcome company?”

Tank tried not to tense all up. “Not sure if that’s mine to tell, lady, but Dalton was pretty worried. Guy was everywhere.”

“Huh.” That single sound said volumes.

“Yeah.” He hummed. “Thanks, lady. That helped a ton. Do I need to be worried about this guy?”

“Worried, nah. I mean, if Dalton isn’t worried, then you’re not, right?”

“Right.” He didn’t like that Rocket feller at all.

Deb sighed. “Maybe a little careful, though. He was… brutal.”

Brutal. What did that mean, exactly? “It ended bad, right? Dalton did say that.”

“Yeah. I had my Glock out.”

Jesus. He shook his head. Okay, he and Dalton needed to chat. “That’s bad, lady. Real bad.”

“It was. Just watch. Dalton didn’t tell Pops, so he’s not been banned.”

“Oh hell. I’ll keep an eye out.” And then some.

“Thank you. You’re a good man.”

“I got a thing for Dalton, lady. But you know I got your back and the rest of the family too.”

“I know. You take one of us, you get us all.”

“Jakoby clan. I get it.” Tank turned to give her a hug.

“You know it, you stud. Come on. You help Dalton with his hookups, you’ll have a way less grumpy grocery store buddy.”

“I’m on it.” Tank nodded and headed over to see if Dalton needed help. Sure enough, Dalton was cussing as he tried to get everything set on the trailer.

“Want me to hook up the bathroom, honey?”

“Please. This bitch is driving me crazy.”

“You got it.” Water in, waste out. The waste hookup at the site was a little corroded, so he trotted over to his truck for some duct tape.

They managed together without a load of drama and with only a few bit-out curses. All-in-all, it was a win.

He washed up just to check that the water was working, then moved his bag into the trailer. No sense leaving it in the truck.

Dalton came in, shot him a smile, and washed his hands. “Hey, stranger.”

“Hey. You doing okay?”

“I am. Thanks for the help. You made it easier.”

“No problem, honey. I don’t mind a bit. Deb says we have time to sit a little if you want, but I figured we’d go on.”

“Let’s go. That way when we light, we can stay.”

“Sounds good to me.” He led Dalton to the truck, reaching over to touch once they were inside the cab. “Boo.”

“Eek.” Dalton took his hand.

“Brisket sounds real good, huh?” They’d bonded over food a lot. That and hot sex. Nuclear hot.

“Brisket does. We’ll get the sides and the desserts, then whatever we need for us.”

“We need some Cokes. Some kind of chips. What’s your position on Doritos?”

“Doritos are magical animals. I like to mix them with hot Cheetos and sour cream and onion potato chips and peanuts.”

Tank tilted his head to one side. “Snack mix. I approve.”

“Exactly! A little bit of everything.” Dalton looked so pleased. “I want some cereal too. I like that in the middle of the night, sometimes.”

“Lucky Charms?” Tank got the truck moving. There was a store called City Market right on the edge of town. It was a Kroger thingee, he thought. That would be a great store to get their stuff.

“I’m easy.”

“Cool.” He wanted to ask all sorts of other questions, but he wasn’t sure if Dalton would think he was nuts or what.

“We got all the pantry basics—oil, salt, pepper, coffee, Dr Pepper.”

“Good deal. Hot sauce?” He put hot sauce on almost everything.

“I got Pace and Cholula.”

“Now that’s great news.” This was fun as hell, learning about each other, playing house.

“Hot sauce is proof God loves us.”

“You know it. What do you think about jalapeño poppers?”

Dalton grinned. “I’ve never met one I didn’t love.”

“I’ll make some tonight for the cookout.” He was getting jazzed about the grilling and smoking.

“Just make sure I get some. These guys are wolverines about peppers.”

“I’ll put a plate of them aside.” Tank could puff up big.

Dalton’s smile made the offer worth it. Hell, he’d put back two.

They pulled up at the store, and they both took a moment to admire the view of the ski mountain when they stepped out of the truck.

“Look at that….” There was a longing in Dalton’s voice, something all Texans seemed to have, this fascination with the mountains.

“I know. It’s something, huh? You wonder why they called it Purgatory.”

“I just love the way the mountains look, you know? It makes my mouth dry.”

“It’s kinda heaven to us Texans, huh? No humidity, an actual mountain….” He winked. “Okay, you got Deb’s list?”

“She texted it. Let’s go spend Pops’s money.”

“Nice. And he’s not even here to defend himself.”

“I know. Remember, if it comes up, blame Deb.”

“You got it.” He would toss Deb under the bus in a heartbeat.

Dalton grabbed a cart and his phone, whistling as they wandered. They went up and down every single aisle, because what if they missed an amazing snack?

What if he missed watching Dalton laugh or greet people or spend five minutes choosing a coffee? He wanted to see and feel it all, and keep touching at the same time.

Tank grinned a little, admiring as Dalton walked away. Lord love cowboy boots, tilting that Wrangler-covered ass just so.

He’d taken it again last night, bent over the arm of the little couch of the suite, watching the sight of his prick disappearing into that perfect little hole. Christ, he was becoming an addict, and Tank wasn’t at all ashamed to admit it.

“You still feeling me, baby?” he dared to whisper.

Dalton shot him a wide-eyed stare, cheeks flushing dark. “Be good, now.”

“Why? I don’t want to.” He wanted all sorts of things, but behaving had nothing to do with them.

“I do. I feel every inch.”

Goddamn. His breath stuttered, his cock warming in his jeans. Dalton was sex on two legs. “Good.”

“Yeah. Yeah, it is.” The wicked grin was enough to make him shake his head.

“I should tell you to be good.” He adjusted himself, hoping no one noticed.

“I’m not the good twin, Tank.”

“Uh-huh. Dustin has the temper.” He winked, knowing that wasn’t what Dalton meant at all.

“A little bit, yeah. Me, I got all the naughty, I think.”

“I think so. I want to explore that. At length.” They stopped at the bakery case, both of them staring at the garish cakes.

“We should get things that don’t need forks. Doughnuts?”

“Sounds good. We’ll grab a carton of those chocolate chip cookies too.” Tank actually thought they tasted so sweet they could be alcohol, but Deb loved them, if he recalled.

“Sure. I want Swiss Cake Rolls. I like to lick the cream out of them.”

Tank’s body tightened, his asscheeks clenching at the thought. “I would pay to see that.”

“I would let you for free.”

“Tonight.” He knew Dalton had to ride tomorrow, but there were things they could do.

“Fuck yes.” Dalton grabbed a box of Little Debbie.

Tank bounced. Hoo yeah. They would rock that trailer. They wandered some more, picking up some fruits and veg, then a couple loaves of bread.

When all was said and done, they had the truck filled with enough food for an army.

“Want to stop and get a coffee?” There was a Starbucks dealie.

“Lord yes.” Dalton never turned down a coffee.

Tank didn’t pump his fist, but he wanted to. He liked knowing Dalton, getting him what he had a fondness for. Tank would get one of them milkshake coffees.

Dalton loved whipped cream and caramel.

He laughed at himself a little. He was so obsessed.

Tank ordered their drinks, and then they were off again, heading through town, singing with Tim McGraw. Dalton had a good ear, and they harmonized nicely.

Then they were back at the camp and folks were everywhere, laughing and cooking, drinking and dancing. God, he’d missed this. Just this. The guys up at the big show were real nice, but they were high-dollar athletes. These were his people.

Emma Short came up and sat next to him, the world’s newest stock contractor solid as a rock and wreathed with smiles. “Mr. Tank. How’s you?”

“Good, baby girl. How’s things?”

“Not bad. I’m doing good, I think. No one’s been too mean.”

“Well, why would they? You got some damn fine horses.” Tank nudged her with his elbow.

“I do. You know how it is. I’m just Peter’s little girl.”

“I know, but you’ll make your name. I have faith.”

She grinned at him and squeezed his fingers. “I appreciate it. The pool here is great.”

“Is it? I was up at the hot springs in Glenwood.” Dalton had swum laps one morning….

“Oh? Is it neat?”

“So neat. Hot! But it melts your sore places.”

“I’ll have to go see.”

A fine-looking young man walked up, smiled at both of them. “Miss Emma, would you like to take a walk before it gets dark?”

She turned a bright pink but took his hand. “Yessir.”

“Have fun, lady.” He nodded at the cowboy, letting him know he was being watched.

The young man tipped his hat, offered him a smile, then drew her away. Lord have mercy. Young love.

Tank wasn’t so young anymore, but he guessed he was courting Dalton all the same.

Dalton was standing with Deb and Dustin at the grill, staring down at the meat. They were so obviously family it made him smile, the three of them just serious as a heart attack about that beef.

“I don’t see how anyone tells those two boys apart.” A cowboy he didn’t know took the seat beside him. “I can’t imagine being their folks.”

Tank gave the guy a wry grin. “Once you get to know them, it’s clear as day and night.”

“Yeah? Dave Davis, heeler.” One square hand was held out. “You know my baby brother, I think.”

“I do.” Tank grinned. Inside and out. Him and Buick Davis had done all the things, once upon a time. “Pleased.”

“Nice to meet you in person, man. Finally.”

“Guess you heard some stories.” Tank knew Buick had two brothers and a sister, but he’d never met the man’s family.

“A few. We’re close. How’s the leg doing?”

“Good. Took some time off before coming on down here, and I just spent a bunch of time at the hot springs, so I feel brand-new.” Buick did like to talk.

“Cool. Good to hear it. I know that the guys are looking forward to seeing you on the break.”

“I’m glad.” He was. “What’s your game? You said you’re a roper?” Dave didn’t look like roughstock, really.

“Yessir. Heeler. I’m here because Dez broke his ankle. Sucks.”

“That does suck.” Tank winced, because leg injuries were a shit show. A roper could come back faster than a lot of guys, but still. “Least he’s not a bulldogger, right?”

“Lord yes. Those boys are hard on their ankles and knees.”

“And everything else.” Tank thought those steer wrestlers were nuts. Second only to bareback bronc riders.

“Shit, ain’t none of us quite sane, huh?”

“The game will do that.” They exchanged a grin. Rodeo folks knew one another, deep down.

A soft, possessive touch warmed his shoulder, and he looked up to see Dalton, standing behind him. “Beer?”

A longneck Bud was handed over.

“Yeah. Thank you.” Tank tingled a little at that touch. “Dalton, Dave. Dave, Dalton.”

“Pleased.” Dalton leaned over him to shake, body pressed into him.

“Ditto. Nice to meet you.” Dave grinned slightly. “Am I in your chair?”

“No, sir. I was just delivering beer before I settled.”

“Cool. Well, it was nice to meet you, Tank. Buick says hi.” Dave left them, hoisting up out of the chair and wandering off.

“Have a seat?” The “baby” wanted to come out, but he held it in.

“Thanks.” Dalton sat, then leaned close. “You know him?”

“He’s a good friend’s brother.” That wasn’t a lie, right?

“Ah. I didn’t know if I needed to intervene.” Dalton winked.

He pondered that little hint of possessiveness, and he decided that was fair. He had a bit of a jealous bone, and he didn’t mind feeling like Dalton felt the same way. In fact, it made more than his chest swell with pride.

“Nah. You’re good, cowboy. How’s the brisket looking?”

“Good. Deb’s a grill master.”

“She is. She’s a stud.” Tank stretched, his everything feeling a little cramped from driving.

“Uh-huh.”

Lord, he could feel Dalton’s eyes on him. That heat was unmistakable, and he almost suggested going back to the trailer until supper, but Dustin came on over to sit down.

“You two stop it. You’re eating each other up with that shit.”

“What?” Dalton did the wide-eyed thing, all innocent, and he did that well.

“Dee.” Dustin rolled his eyes. “Don’t even try.”

“Then don’t be a butthead.” Dalton toasted Dustin with his beer.

Tank bit back a grin. They were both buttheads.

“Yeah, yeah. Y’all should try the river rafting down here. So much fun.” Dustin pulled over a cooler and sat on it.

“Yeah? I like it up near Idaho Springs.” Tank had been rafting all over. Maybe not as much as Dustin.

“Yeah? Cool. I’ll try that next. This whole rafting thing is fucking amazing.” Dustin was about burned to a crisp, but all wide smiles. “Almost as good as being on a bronc.”

“Adrenaline junkie,” Dalton said fondly.

“We only come in adrenaline junkie in rodeo,” Dustin agreed.

“True that, and at least I get to ride all the time, right, Bubba?”

“Right. I get stuck with a clipboard.” Dustin winked, though, so he probably wasn’t upset.

“I can let a couple three bulls slip through my rope….”

“Don’t you dare,” Tank warned. “My ass would be grass.”

“I got your ass, Tank. Don’t you worry.”

“You do.” He was proud of Dustin for not jumping on that like low-hanging fruit. But he knew Dalton meant it, in and out of the arena.

“Listen to the two of you. You have any more trouble with—”

Dalton’s foot shot out and kicked Dustin’s ankle.

“Ow!” Dustin blinked at Dalton. “What the hell?”

“No trouble, Bubba. Just coincidence.”

“Uh-huh.” Dustin didn’t sound convinced. Tank wasn’t either. He needed to poke Dalton about this Rocket feller. He didn’t like secrets. Those caused accidents.

Tank glanced at Dalton, but his lover just shook his head. Okay, later.

“You got some aloe shit, Bubba? You’re about beet colored.”

“I do. I grabbed some on the way into town.” Dustin grinned, shaking his head. “Doesn’t matter how much sunscreen I wear.”

“How did you manage to tan up, then, babe?”

Dalton shrugged. “I burned and burned and burned.”

“And burned and burned.” Dustin rolled his eyes. “He’s the one that went into the hospital from it when he wouldn’t come in from the pool ever. Skin cancer waiting to happen.”

Tank snorted. “No cowboy’s going out over skin cancer.”

“No shit. I just grew a tan in defense. Bubba is a few burns behind.”

“Just a few.” Dustin grimaced. “Tank looks like he was born tanned.”

“I used to be pale as milk when I was a kid,” Tank said. “I just age like leather.”

“Mm-hmm.” Dalton’s eyelids went heavy.

“Oh Lord. I need some nachos.” Dustin rolled his eyes and rose, headed back toward where Deb was doing food.

“Bring me some too, Bubba!” Dalton called after him.

Dustin waved. He would too. Good man. “You want another beer while he’s not sitting on the cooler?”

“Surely. We’re not driving.”

Tank snagged the cooler lid, then opened it so he could lift out two beers. He handed one to Dalton. “So what else do I need to know about this Rocket feller?”

“Huh?” Dalton blinked up at him, then shrugged, shook his head. “He’s an ex. It wasn’t pretty. We didn’t end well.”

“Deb says she felt like you needed armed backup.” That had worried the hell out of him.

“I don’t know. He was pretty pissed. We had a—I don’t know.”

Tank caught Dalton’s gaze with his. “You can tell me. If you don’t want to right now, then I get it. But you can.”

“Maybe not out here. It ain’t for public consumption.”

“Okay.” He wanted to know, but Dalton had a right not to air his laundry, dirty or clean. “You know I got your back, right?”

“I know. I got it. It’s old news.”

“Well, not if he’s still hanging around, honey.” Someone was trying to make it new business, he thought.

“Yeah.” Dalton took a deep swig of his beer.

“I didn’t mean to upset you, honey. Your people are just real worried.” Tank tried a smile, just to see if Dalton would smile back.

“They love me.” At that, Dalton did smile. “I’m a lucky man.”

“Yep.” Tank believed that with his whole heart. “This is the best place.”

“It is.”

“Dee! Dee, can y’all get the tables pulled out?”

Dalton grinned. “Duty calls.”

“I’m on it too.” Tank pulled his weight.

Dalton stood and held out one hand, hauled him up. They got to work, muscling the folding tables out of the big trailer they lived in and setting them up along with the chairs. Soon the tables were groaning with food—lots of chips and dips and plastic tubs of macaroni salad and potato salad and coleslaw.

Tank laid out the bread and buns someone handed him, then began filling tubs with ice so people could chill down Cokes and beer and water.

Things came from everywhere—a pot of beans, salad greens and a huge bottle of ranch, the five gallon vat o’ pickles. This was how it worked with the Jakoby Company. Everyone contributed when they could, and everyone ate no matter what.

It engendered a vast loyalty, a commitment between all the cowboys who traveled with the company and goodwill with the locals, as a rule.

The Jakoby Company would celebrate their centennial soon. World wars, depressions, high times—they’d survived them all.

The fact never ceased to amaze Tank. These kids were amazing.

And he was balls-deep in love with one of them.

Lord help him, he had to admit it. He just hoped he didn’t fuck it up.