Reyes spent the next two days silently raging about everything Miles had admitted to him on Sunday night, and when their weekly Tuesday dinner date with Wes and Mack rolled around, he realized he needed to vent to his dearest friend. On the horse ride to the house, Reyes brought it up, and Miles was quiet for several long moments after.
“I need to tell Wes,” Miles finally said. “I kind of talked myself into doing it tonight, and I trust Mack’s discretion. If you need to tell him so you can work through your anger in a healthy way, then I’m okay with it.”
“You’re positive?” Reyes asked.
“Yes.” Miles sounded so confident that Reyes took him at his word. He hadn’t lied to Reyes yet, and Reyes marveled at the strong man riding beside him. A far cry from the anxious, jumpy man who’d first moved to the ranch back in April.
After supper, instead of a movie, Reyes asked Mack if they could take a walk. Miles gave him a knowing look, then barely tilted his head at Wes. He was going to talk to his best friend, too.
“What’s up?” Mack asked once they were a few dozen yards from the cabin. “You and Miles okay?”
“We’re great. Better than great, actually. It’s just...man, I am so fucking pissed about something he told me the other night, and it’s got me all torn up inside.”
“Something Miles did?”
“Not exactly. More like done to him.”
Mack stopped walking, and in the dim moonlight, understanding shined in his eyes. “I see.”
“You don’t sound surprised.”
“Honestly, I’m not. Wes was real worried about Miles for a spell last summer, and I’m guessing this is about the same thing.”
“Yeah.” Reyes shuffled his feet, picking his words carefully so he could paint the right picture, without violating too much of Miles’s privacy. While Miles had never sworn him to secrecy over any of it, it was still Miles’s personal history. “I’ve learned a lot more about Miles’s history with his ex Dallas, and how controlling and manipulative the bastard was. He hurt Miles physically and emotionally, and at one point, Miles said enough and broke things off. Walked away.”
“But Dallas didn’t stay away.”
“No. The month before they came to the ranch last year? Miles went out for his birthday, only Dallas showed up, drugged him, took him home with another guy, and Miles doesn’t have any memory of it, but when he woke up he could tell someone had penetrated him.” Familiar rage came rising up. “Miles won’t call it for what it is, but that fucking bastard raped him, and not for the first time, I’ll add, and all I want to do is find the slimy prick and cut his dick off with a dull spoon.”
“I understand the impulse, trust me,” Mack said, anger in his voice now. “If that ever happened to Wes, they wouldn’t find the body, because there’s a lot of land up here.”
He grunted. “Miles swore me off revenge.”
“Not a bad thing.”
“I just really want to punch something right now. And I want to fix this so it never happened, but that’s obviously impossible.”
“You love him.”
Reyes had never told Mack they’d exchanged those words, but he didn’t have to. “I do. A hell of a lot, and I’m so grateful he trusted me with the truth, but damn it, Mack. I also hate knowing what I know, and knowing the prick will probably never be punished for it.”
“I don’t know, karma’s a tricky bitch.”
“If he ever comes near Miles again, I won’t be held accountable for my actions.”
“At this point, he’s unlikely to. No one’s seen him around the ghost town in months. Miles is as safe here as he’s ever gonna be, and he’s got a fuck-ton of people around who’d get in line to protect him, including me. He’s family.”
For some reason, those words made his eyes sting. “Thank you, brother.”
“Of course.” Mack cleared his throat. “So go on, get it out of your system. What other ways would you find to rearrange Dallas’s anatomy?”
Reyes’s mouth twisted into an evil smile, and they kept walking.
* * *
Miles let Wes hug him until Wes deemed it okay to let go. Wes’s blue eyes were shiny with unshed tears, but also glittered with anger. He’d told Wes the truth about his birthday, like he knew Reyes was telling Mack, and it had been easier saying it all the second time. Wes had listened with an unusual amount of patience and restraint, and then he’d hugged Miles for dear life.
“I should have known Dallas did something that night, the pig fucker. Well, I did know,” Wes said. “But you didn’t want to talk, so I didn’t push, even though you got so distant and quiet, but then you started getting better.”
“It wasn’t on you to fix me. I had to be ready to talk, and in order to talk, I had to get over my own shame. Being with Reyes has helped me heal in so many ways, and I can never repay him for that.”
“You repay him by loving him, trust me.” Wes squeezed his hands. “We can all pool our money and hire a professional to professionally kick Dallas’s ass.”
Miles laughed at the absurd suggestion. “No, we will not. To be honest, after tonight, I don’t want to think about Dallas anymore. He doesn’t deserve my thoughts or my energy. But I needed to tell you, because you saw it all without knowing what it was, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”
“Hey, honey, no, you had to tell me when you were ready. I get that. But if he does happen to show up at the ghost town looking for you again, I will end up tripping and stabbing him in the junk with my penknife.”
Miles laughed again, grateful for his friend’s unwavering loyalty. “The fact that you would willingly stab someone in the junk means everything, but please don’t get yourself sent to jail on my account. I already had this conversation with Reyes.”
“I can imagine. Honestly, I’m surprised he hasn’t driven into San Fran to murder the guy. It’s not like they’d ever find a body up here.”
“We are not killing Dallas and burying him on this land. Period.”
“You’re no fun.”
“And I had no idea you were so bloodthirsty.”
“It’s a Bentley thing. You don’t fuck with our family.”
They turned on the TV and watched a game show until their men returned. Reyes looked less wound up than he’d seemed the past two days, and he went right to the couch to kiss Miles on the forehead.
“So who do you think came up with the most creative punishment against Dallas’s body?” Mack asked Miles.
Miles shrugged. “Probably Reyes, because I wouldn’t let Wes go there.”
Wes harrumphed. “I didn’t know we were competing. I feel cheated.”
“You’ll get over it.” Miles leaned into Reyes. “You feel better?”
“Yes.” Reyes brushed a curl away from his ear. “You?”
“I’m definitely ready to move on. I came here for a change and a new life, and I’m really ready to embrace that now. Clean slate. New me.”
“That’s the best news I’ve heard all month.” He kissed Miles gently. “I love you.”
“Love you more.”
“Gawd, you two, get a room,” Wes drawled.
“Get a room, huh?” Mack said. He hauled Wes off the couch and into a forceful kiss full of tongue and a little bit of growling. Wes gaped at him when Mack pulled back, and Mack just looked self-satisfied.
“I think we need a room, daddy.”
“That’s our cue to go,” Miles said, pulling Reyes up to stand with him. “Thanks for dinner and for listening. Both of you.”
“Happy to.” Wes hugged him again, careful to keep his bottom half out of it. “Take care of yourself.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“Ugh, Reyes, take care of him for me.”
Reyes smiled. “I’ll take care of him as much as he lets me.”
Outside in the warm evening air, Miles took Reyes by the hand and led him into the yard. “Do we have to go straight home? It’s such a nice night and still early. I’d love to ride awhile.”
“Sure, we can ride. I’ll never turn that down. You’ve been too tired lately for our usual evening rides.”
“I know, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It just means the saloon is a success, and I’m thrilled for you. Art Milo and his Tango Saloon are building a fantastic reputation, and I couldn’t be prouder, Miles, I promise.”
“Thank you. It means everything to hear you say that.”
“You mean the world to me. Mi corazon. Mi alma. My everything.”
Miles wrapped his arms around his boyfriend and held tight. “You’re my everything, too. Thank you for loving me.”
“You don’t have to thank me for that. It’s too easy to love you.”
They hugged awhile longer, until a very distinct sex noise from the house broke them apart on shared laughter. They fetched their horses and began to ride out into the wilderness. Miles trusted Reyes implicitly to always lead him safely home, and tonight was no exception.
He trusted Reyes to lead him forward always, no matter their destination.
* * *
The first time Miles’s face showed up on the social media connected to Art Milo, he freaked the fuck out, but Wes had the post taken down within minutes of discovering it. A fan of the saloon who’d been told the only time the mysterious chef appeared was during the holdup, had arrived in time and had covertly snapped the shot of Miles and Shawn “cowering” near the kitchen doors.
The fan had posted it to the ghost town’s main social media page, which Wes moderated, and he sent the fan a direct message explaining their chef was an intensely private person, and please don’t do that again.
Still, everyone decided it was best if Miles stopped participating in the holdup. One of their volunteer actors would be dressed appropriately and stand in for the chef from now on. In some ways, Miles was sad to give up the small role, but he was also happy to only have to do what he loved: cook. He was tense about it for a few days after, and Reyes did everything possible at night to ease his anxiety—everything from massages to toe-curling blow jobs. They made love several nights a week, but not every night.
After a few weeks, Miles forgot all about the photo and life went on as usual.
Stifling August heat melted into a slightly less hot September, and a heavy rainstorm shut down the ghost town for a whole day. Since ranch guests weren’t doing anything outdoors, Reyes gave himself the day off, too, so he and Miles could spend the day in bed together, alternately watching movies, playing cards, and enjoying each other’s bodies. It was like the best adult snow day ever, minus the snow and hot cocoa.
The next day was overcast, but dry, and everything was muddy, so business was slow. It picked up again over the weekend, for which Miles was grateful. After getting so used to a busy kitchen, too many quiet stretches left him uneasy. Restless.
Now that Avery had moved to San Francisco for his new job, their regular dinner quartet occasionally drove into the city to hang with Avery and Colt in their apartment. Colt was there every weekend with his boyfriend, and Miles enjoyed hanging out with them, too. While Colt had first struck him as a slightly aggressive flirt, he’d mellowed into his relationship with Avery, and Miles adored the couple.
Life was kind of awesome.
The second Monday in September, after the lunch rush, Miles carried the bus bin of that day’s scraps out to the edge of town where Mack had built a three-sided enclosure facing the mountain, so Miles could have a compost pile. He much preferred it to tossing out everything. The only things he didn’t toss were meat scraps. Raccoons could come along and steal old pie crusts, but the last thing they needed was to tempt a mountain lion too close with a half-eaten burger.
He dumped the bin and tapped its metal side against the wooden enclosure wall, watching as bits of lettuce and beans dripped onto the pile. All in all, they didn’t have a lot of food waste, because customers really seemed to love his dishes, so they ate it all.
The sign of a successful chef is an empty plate after each meal.
The thought made him smile to himself. Satisfied the pan was empty, he turned to head back, only to find a body in his way. A tall, muscled body he knew too well. Miles yelped and backed up two steps.
Dallas grinned at him from behind his designer shades, perfectly at ease while Miles’s pulse raced and his stomach twisted up tight. “Well, if it isn’t Chef Art Milo,” he said in a friendly, too-charming way.
Miles was struck dumb. He couldn’t speak, much less react in any meaningful way.
“Been a long time, baby,” Dallas continued. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
A blast of anger loosened his tongue from the roof of Miles’s mouth. “The fact that I disappeared so thoroughly should have been a big fucking hint,” he snapped. “I don’t want to see you anymore, Dallas, so please leave.”
“I’m a paying customer. I wanted to meet the chef who made my buffalo burger. It was excellent, by the way, just like all your fans say.”
Miles wanted to vomit thinking he’d cooked food for Dallas without realizing it.
“Come on, Miles, not even a hello kiss for your oldest friend?”
“Fuck you.”
Dallas’s good mood fractured. “Don’t push me away again. I can destroy this cute little life you’ve got up here.”
Real fear blasted down Miles’s spine, along with a healthy dose of fury. “Leave. Me. Alone. Don’t make me get a restraining order.”
The threat made Dallas laugh. “This is a new side of you, Miles. Did you go and grow a backbone or something?”
Completely done with this conversation, Miles stalked past Dallas, intent on the safety of his kitchen. A hand clamped down on Miles’s shoulder, and he didn’t think. He spun, swinging the bus bin wildly, and connected with a crack. Dallas shrieked and fell to his knees, clutching at his nose. The shock of impact jarred its way up Miles’s arm. He stared down at Dallas, stunned at what he’d done.
I fought back. And I won.
“Miles!” Shawn’s voice.
He turned, unsurprised to see not only Shawn, but two guests and one of their volunteer actors heading in his direction. Shawn came to a stop next to Miles. “What the hell happened?”
“I hit my ex in the face with a bus bin.”
“What?” Shawn gaped at him.
Someone handed Dallas a handkerchief, which he pressed under his bleeding nose. “I should press assault charges,” Dallas said.
“You grabbed me first.” Miles dropped the bin to the ground and pulled out his phone. Mack picked up on the fourth ring. “Hey, I need you behind the saloon. It’s an emergency.”
“On my way,” Mack replied.
“Should we call the sheriff?” one of the guests asked the other.
“He isn’t actually a sheriff,” was the reply.
Miles rolled his eyes. “This is a private matter, but please don’t let it ruin your enjoyment of Bentley. Go see the sights. This will take care of itself.”
Dallas grunted, then struggled to stand. When Shawn reached out to help, Miles pulled him back. The actor, whose name Miles thought was Joe, hung back, and the four of them stood there for a few minutes, until heavy footsteps thundered toward them.
“What’s going on?” Mack asked, his voice even but still somehow booming with authority. “Miles?”
The sunglasses and cloth over half his face probably made it difficult for Mack to recognize Dallas, so Miles ripped the damned glasses off his face. Mack stared a beat, and then went on instant alert. “Gonna say it loud and clear right now that you aren’t welcome here,” Mack said.
“I paid my parking fee,” Dallas said. “And I slipped a twenty into the church collection box. I’m a paying customer.”
“And this is private property, so we can refuse service to any customer we choose.”
“Your employee assaulted me.”
Miles’s vision briefly blurred with rage. “You assaulted me first, you shit heel, and a hell of a lot worse than a bloody nose.”
Shawn startled, but Miles ignored him.
“Seems you need to take yourself off my property right now,” Mack said. “Or I will call the county sheriff and have you removed by force.”
Dallas stared at Mack, but Mack held firm and Dallas blinked first. “Fine.” To Miles he flashed a smirk. “I’ll see you again, sweetheart.”
“Don’t fucking count on it,” Miles retorted. “Come near me again, and my boyfriend will snap your spine in half.”
Anger flared briefly in Dallas’s eyes, but he extinguished it quickly. He’d always been good at hiding his jealousy, pretending to be happy when Miles was dating. Dallas leaned in, and Miles refused to budge. “Bet he doesn’t fuck as good as I do.”
Fury blinded him again, and Miles tried to swing. Mack caught his arm and held him still, while Dallas plucked his shades away and sauntered off.
“Joe, do me a favor,” Mack said, “and make sure that piece of work leaves promptly.”
“Will do,” Joe said, and scurried off.
“Shit, I gotta get back to the kitchen,” Shawn said, leaving Miles and Mack alone.
“What happened?” Mack asked, all calm sympathy now.
“Came out to dump shit into compost,” Miles replied. “I turned around and there he was. I told him to leave, and when he didn’t, I tried to go around. He grabbed me, so I hit him in the face with the bus bin.”
“Nice work with the bin, but how are you doing, seeing him again?”
Miles squeezed his eyes shut a moment, before opening them again. It did nothing to calm his racing heart or boiling temper. “I’m not really sure yet. I don’t think it’s hit me.”
“You need to leave early?”
“No, no I think work is exactly what I need to do. If I go home, I’ll just sit and stew, or pace and worry. I can keep busy here.”
“All right.” Mack put a gentle hand on his shoulder. “You need something, you call me or Wes. Or Reyes. He’ll drop what he’s doing to come for you.”
“I know.” The last thing he wanted was to pull Reyes away from the ranch because Miles’s abusive ex decided to show up and threaten him. No, Miles was keeping the threats to himself for now, because what could Dallas possibly have on him? Miles had no criminal record, and considering it was northern California, he couldn’t imagine most people would give a shit that the saloon’s chef was gay. Hell, the town owner was gay.
“Come on.” Mack picked up the bus bin and walked him back to the saloon. “Take care of yourself, okay?”
“I will.” He’d done exactly that by smashing that bin into Dallas’s smarmy face.
Miles went inside and washed up, then checked the tickets. Shawn tossed him a few concerned glances, but didn’t ask about the incident outside, and Miles was grateful. He wanted to get through his day, go home, and forget Dallas had invaded his safe place. His sanctuary.
“Bastard,” he said to the burger he was cooking.
“What did the meat do to you?” Emily asked. She’d come back to collect a pie order, and she paused by the range. “You okay? You look pale.”
“I’m fine, just a little tired.”
She didn’t seem convinced, but left it alone to deliver her plates.
“That guy was your ex, huh?” Shawn asked once they were alone.
Miles sighed, then flipped the burger, listening to it sizzle and sear. “Yeah. It was an unhealthy relationship, and he’s having trouble letting go.”
“I get that.” Shawn took a step closer, his expression grim. “Believe me, I get that. I had an ex who didn’t like being dumped, and it took a restraining order and three nights in jail for them to finally leave me alone.”
His careful way of not gendering the ex didn’t pass Miles’s notice, but it also wasn’t his place to question it. Who Shawn dated was his private business. “I’m glad you got away.”
“Thanks. I hope your stalker gets a clue and leaves you alone.”
“Me, too.”
Miles felt a new kinship with his coworker that day, and he was grateful Shawn had confided in him. He concentrated on work for a while, but during the afternoon lull, dark thoughts started creeping back in. Around four, Wes poked his head in the back door and gave Miles a pointed look. Miles excused himself to take a quick break.
“I’m fine,” Miles said before Wes could ask. He wanted to believe that, too, but he also couldn’t make himself step off the back stoop onto the grass.
“Liar.” Wes slung an arm across his shoulders. “I’m so sorry, Miles. I feel like this is my fault.”
“How is Dallas turning into a stalker your fault?”
“All the online hype about the saloon and your food. And Art Milo? What the fuck was I thinking with that pseudonym?”
“This isn’t your fault, and I don’t blame you, I promise. Honestly, I blame myself for trying to disappear, instead of facing Dallas directly.”
“You did what you had to do to protect yourself.”
“Fat lot of good it did me.” Miles leaned against the back wall of the saloon and crossed his arms. “I’m just pissed he came back and got in my face. He stained this beautiful place with his bullshit.”
“What kind of bullshit? Begging you to get back with him?”
“Not begging. More like threatening.”
Wes went rigid. “He threatened you?”
Miles regretted saying anything right away, but he trusted Wes, and he needed to say something to someone. “I need you to promise this stays between us for now.”
“Miles—”
“Promise me.”
“Fine.” Wes scowled. “I promise to keep whatever you tell me between us.”
“It wasn’t a major threat, but Dallas said he could ruin the life I’ve built here.”
“How?”
“I don’t know.” Miles shrugged. “The worst things I did were in high school ten years ago, but even that was typical teenage troublemaking shit. No one’s going to care I smoked weed when I was fifteen.”
Maybe Dallas was referencing the car accident that had ended Miles’s rebellious streak, but again, he hadn’t been driving. Miles hadn’t been charged with anything, only the driver. Nothing about that could ruin his life now.
“He could have been bluffing,” Wes said. “Trying to trick you into giving him another chance. I wouldn’t put that past him.”
“Neither would I. I won’t put anything past Dallas anymore.”
Shawn poked his head out the back door. “Hey, Miles, I hate to interrupt, but we just got a group of eight who all ordered entrées.”
“No problem,” Miles replied. To Wes, he said, “Thanks for the talk.”
“Anytime.” Wes squeezed his wrist, then wandered away.
Miles heaved a sigh and got back to work.
* * *
Reyes walked into the saloon a few minutes before six, keyed up and trying hard not to show it by stomping or otherwise making a scene. Annabelle and Emily were wiping down tables and putting chairs up, and they both waved as he wove his way toward the kitchen, struggling to keep his facial expression even. Mack had called to fill him in, and he’d spent the past two hours not only working through his own anger at Dallas harassing Miles again, but also the best way to help Miles cope. Now that he knew more about their history, Reyes raged over Dallas thinking he could get within a hundred yards of Miles, much less close enough to grab him.
Miles was furiously scrubbing down the flattop when Reyes walked through the kitchen doors, and he looked up, unsurprised to see who his guest was. Reyes paused, uncertain, until Miles turned and opened his arms. Reyes swept him into a firm hug, noting Miles’s increased heart rate. Miles angled his head for a kiss, too.
“Who called you?” Miles asked. “Mack or Wes?”
“Mack.”
“I would have told you tonight.”
“I know.”
“Go ahead and take off,” Shawn said. “I can take care of cleanup.”
“Are you sure?” Miles asked, untangling himself from Reyes’s arms.
“Yeah, you can make it up to me sometime. I like collecting favors.”
The friendly grin on Miles’s face was the only reason Reyes didn’t read any deeper into that statement. He didn’t know Shawn well, but Miles trusted him.
“Okay, thanks,” Miles said. “See you Thursday.”
“Yeah, see you then.”
“Thank you,” Reyes said to Shawn as they passed his station on their way to the back door. He held Miles’s hand loosely in his as they left the kitchen, curious if he’d planned the right surprise.
The delighted squawk Miles let out told him he’d done good. Hot Coffee and Tango were waiting for them by the saloon’s west wall, tails swishing, patient as ever with their human companions. “I thought you’d like to ride for a while,” Reyes said. “Get lost in nature.”
“Thank you.” Miles kissed him softly before swinging expertly up into Tango’s saddle. Some of the visible tension around him settled as he reached out to run his hand up and down her neck. “This is perfect.”
“I’m glad.” Reyes mounted Hot Coffee, and this time, he allowed Miles to lead them out into the wilderness. They’d ridden together enough that Miles was beginning to know the grounds, know certain landmarks, and be able to navigate by the positions of the sun and moon. Miles kept them moving mostly north, and Reyes guessed their destination but said nothing.
The entire trip was made in silence. There was no trite “how was your day, dear?” needed between them, not today. Miles was upset, and it was up to Reyes, as his boyfriend, to fix it somehow.
So far, so good.
By the time they reached the bluff peak, where every overnight trip ended, Miles seemed angrier than when they’d left the saloon. As if, by staying silent, he’d allowed all his emotions to boil up and over, coming to a breaking point inside of him. He dismounted and tied his horse to a tree before walking toward the cliff. Reyes did the same, curious and worried by Miles’s persistent silence.
Miles stared out over the vast valley below that ended in a gorgeous peak of mountains and rock. Wilderness that held wildlife and vegetation, and where Reyes would gladly bury Dallas’s body if asked. But that wasn’t who Miles was. He was a kind, forgiving, old soul who wanted to see the best in people, and he’d been taken advantage of. That soul had almost been destroyed, but Miles was stronger that Dallas’s manipulation and violence.
“Fuck you, Dallas,” Miles said to the valley. “Fuck you!”
His voice echoed long into the distance. Reyes stood near him, behind and slightly to the right, not wanting to interrupt. As much as he’d wanted to be the one to fix this for Miles, Miles knew what he needed to find his balance again. Reyes remained silent, ready support if Miles needed him.
“I hate you,” Miles said. His voice was fractured, close to tears, but his profile was stormy. “I hate you for how you treated me. For the things you did to me. You fucking betrayed my trust, and I hate you!”
Reyes’s chest ached for his boyfriend’s pain, but he remained still. Uncertain. He also kept half an eye on the horses, but so far, they seemed oblivious to Miles’s ravings. The sun was getting low to their left, casting long shadows on the ground, and the only thing Reyes heard were Miles’s words and ragged breathing.
“You can’t take anything else from me, you fucking bastard,” Miles said. “Nothing else, because I won’t let you. This is my life! Mine! My life, my job, my family, and you can’t have them. Fuck!”
He dropped to his knees, and Reyes went to him, kneeling next to Miles, but Miles shied from his touch. He turned wet, red eyes onto Reyes, his face twisted in anger. “He gets nothing else, Reyes, nothing. He’s already taken too much.”
“I know. Do you have any idea how proud I am of you right now?”
“You’re proud of me for screaming at the sky?”
“Yes. Because you’re angry.” Reyes reached out, and Miles allowed him to take his hand. Squeeze it tight. “You aren’t resigned or scared anymore, you are furious at how he treated you. And you’re furious at him for bullying his way back into your life, when you have so clearly indicated you’re done with him. Your anger is beautiful.”
“I’ve never hated anyone as much as I hate him. I didn’t think it was possible to feel this way about another person.”
“A person who repeatedly betrayed you and broke your trust. A person who physically and emotionally assaulted you. It’s healthy to hate a man like that. Don’t ever feel bad for hating him, because while Dallas doesn’t deserve any of your emotional energy, hate is better than grief or resignation. The man you were last year, dealing with all of this alone, made me sad. The man you are today? Standing up for yourself and pushing back? I’m honored to know and love that man, Miles.”
A single tear trickled down Miles’s cheek. “I want to file a restraining order. I don’t want him near me again.”
“We can head down to the county sheriff’s office tomorrow and see about doing that. I’ll drive, if you want.”
“Don’t you have to be here for the guests?”
“The other guys can handle shit for two hours. This is important, mi alma. Let me be here for you.”
Miles slumped against him, and Reyes held tight, pulling his trembling boyfriend against his chest, trying to simply be there for him while he dealt with this emotional crisis. To stay present and ready to do whatever Miles needed.
“Fuck, I’m so tired right now,” Miles whispered.
“You’ve had an emotional day. You ready to head home?”
“I think so. I love you.”
They fetched their horses, and Reyes made sure Miles was up and settled in his saddle before mounting Hot Coffee. Their return trip was as silent as the first, but it also lacked the tension. Miles had released a lot of emotion today, and he seemed less agitated, more grounded and steady. Reyes had helped give him that.
In the barn, they untacked and brushed their horses with small touches and gentle nudges that began to feel like real intent on Miles’s part. They held hands on the walk back to their cabin, and once inside, Miles crowded Reyes right against the door and started kissing him. Pulling at clothes, rubbing bare skin.
And then they were in bed, Reyes sheathed in a condom, and after a bit of prep, he was inside his boyfriend. Loving him, pushing them both toward their release. Creating a promise with their bodies that mere words could never match. Saying “I love you” with every thrust and kiss and touch.
Afterward, they lay together, limbs tangled, existing in a perfect moment in time. A moment Reyes hoped to create again and again with this man who’d stolen his heart.
For as long as humanly possible.