Cattle Valley 28 - Second Chances (3 page)

Oggie boarded the plane and tossed his backpack in the first available seat. “You can’t leave that there,” a deep voice said from the back of the plane. Oggie narrowed his eyes. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with Drake’s shit, especially

after he’d been shamed into going on the last-minute trip in the first place. He snatched his pack off the seat and shoved it in a small locker next to the bathroom. Without saying a word to Drake, he dropped into a seat towards the front of the plane.

A muffled curse came from behind Oggie and a few moments later, Drake took the chair across from him. “What’re you doing?” Oggie asked.
“Trying to bury the hatchet,” Drake replied, hands resting comfortably in his lap.
Oggie didn’t care to hear anything the conceited asshole had to say. “Better watch out or it’ll be buried in your head.”
Drake leant forward just as the jet left the runway. “What exactly have I done to make you hate me so much?”
The memory of their first meeting flashed through Oggie’s mind. He’d been made to feel like a damn invalid who couldn’t even take care of his own ranch. “I don’t like to be underestimated.”
“Who’s underestimated you? Certainly not me. I’ve tried to help out a couple of times, but that has nothing to do with underestimating you.”
“The hell it doesn’t,” Oggie growled. Drake was the first person to make him feel handicapped and for that alone, he would never be forgiven. “You came on my land and took over like you had every right to do so.” He held up his right arm. “One look at this and you assumed I needed your help.”
Although the plane was still ascending, Drake unbuckled his seatbelt and made his way to the same locker Oggie had stored his bag in. He rooted around for several moments before coming back with a small book. After resuming his seat, he passed it to Oggie. “I’ve never shown this to anyone, and if you care anything about that handsome face of yours, you’ll do the right thing and school your initial reactions.”
It wasn’t until the book was in Oggie’s hands that he realised it was a photo album. Although he was at a loss as to why Drake would want him to look at pictures, Oggie flipped open the cover. His jaws tightened at the photo of a young boy of around five and an older, heavy woman with missing feet. He turned the page, another image of the boy, but he appeared a year or so older. The woman was also the same except her right hand was noticeably absent. The boy had his arm lovingly draped around the woman’s neck.
“She insisted we take those,” Drake said in a voice so soft Oggie barely heard him.
“She’s your mother,” Oggie concluded. He felt sick to his stomach as the pictures progressed. In each photo, there was a little less of Drake’s mother as the boy grew older. “Diabetes?”
Drake nodded and accepted the album Oggie held out. “Neuropathy. She’d had trouble with it before she got pregnant, but by the time I was born, her poor body had nearly given up the fight.” He ran his fingertips over the album. “By the time I was two, she’d lost the toes on both feet.” He gestured to the book. “That first picture was taken right after I’d started first grade. By then, both feet were gone.”
Drake stood and put the album back into the closet. “She wasn’t healthy but at least she was happy back then. She still tried to do everything a mother’s supposed to.” He stopped abruptly. “Excuse me.”
Oggie let out a heavy sigh when Drake disappeared into the small restroom and shut the door. How was he supposed to respond to what Drake had just shared? He knew it was something he’d have to chew on for a while.

After splashing cold water onto his face, Drake leaned against the small vanity and stared at his reflection in the mirror. He shouldn’t have revealed as much as he had. What the hell had prompted him to share his mother with someone after so many years? Hadn’t he learnt his lesson the one and only other time he’d done it? Sure, he’d only been eight at the time, but it had haunted him since.

There was a soft knock on the flimsy door. “Drake? You okay?”
“Fine,” Drake snapped, reaching for a thick, terry hand towel. He waited for the sound of retreating footsteps before turning back to the mirror. If he went out and pretended he’d never shared the album, maybe Oggie wouldn’t mention it again.
Cool. A plan. He liked plans.
Opening the door, Drake realised the jet had levelled out. He made his way to the galley. “Drink?”
Oggie stood and joined Drake in the small space. “I drank enough beer on Friday to last me a lifetime. Any juice?”
Drake flipped the latch on the fridge and opened it. Typical Asa—the damn thing was stocked to the hilt. “What kind?”
“Holy shit.” Oggie reached for a bottle of cranberry apple and a prepared plate of meat and cheese. “Think there’s bread?”
Drake grinned and opened one of the cupboards. Bagels and loaves of bread were lined up like a mini-supermarket shelf. “Asa doesn’t do anything half-ass.”
Oggie reached for the rye bread. “Sandwich? I haven’t eaten since breakfast.”
Drake shook his head and opened the drawer that held cans of soup. “I’m covered.” He poured the contents into a bowl and set it in the microwave. While Oggie worked at making a sandwich, Drake knocked on the cockpit door. “Can I get either of you something to eat?”
The door opened and Stony Howard, the captain, smiled. “I’d love a cup of coffee.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Johnny, you want anything?”
“I’m good,” the co-pilot answered.
“We’ll see about that.” Stony winked at Drake. “Just the one will be fine.”
Stony had been trying for several months to get Drake back into bed, and although the guy was seriously talented in that department, Drake hadn’t been interested since the day he’d visited Oggie’s ranch. Still, it had been a while and being around Oggie made him restless. He leant forward and brushed the tip of his tongue across Stony’s lower lip. “Aye aye, Captain.”
Stony groaned quietly and reached for Drake but pulled his hand back when Johnny cleared his throat.
“Another time?” Stony asked, withdrawing his hand.
“If you’re lucky. I’ll make a pot of coffee.” Drake shut the door and turned around, coming face to face with Oggie.
Oggie nodded towards the cockpit. “I take it the two of you have a history?”
“Occasional history,” Drake clarified. He opened the microwave and found a spoon. “There’s a table about halfway back.”
Oggie watched Drake for several seconds before tucking the bottle of juice under his right arm and picking up his sandwich. “You going to join me?”
“Right behind you.” Drake used a paper towel to help shield his hand from the hot bowl. He grabbed a bottle of water and followed Oggie down the aisle. He couldn’t help but notice the tight fit of the cowboy’s Wranglers. Damn. He could definitely handle a quick fuck before touching down in DC. Too bad Oggie was such a closed-off asshole. There was something about him that made Drake’s chest ache, to say nothing of the effect Oggie had on his cock.
After setting his bowl on the table, he headed back to the galley. “I forgot to start the coffee.”
Oggie mumbled something but Drake wasn’t close enough to hear, and since he probably didn’t want to, he kept going. In no hurry to return to the table, he waited while the coffee brewed, trying to understand why he was attracted to someone who obviously didn’t want a damn thing to do with him.
When the coffee was finished, Drake filled a heavy thermal cup and knocked on the cockpit door. “Coffee.”
Stony opened the door but instead of taking the cup and going back to work, he stepped out into the galley. Standing in front of Drake, Stony blew on the steaming beverage but didn’t attempt to drink. “So, who’s the guy?”
Drake moved further back into the galley, away from Oggie’s view, before answering. “He owns the Second Chance, Asa’s newest pet project. We’re picking up a kid in DC—well, once we can find him.”
Stony moved towards Drake and set his cup on the counter. With his hands free, he planted them on Drake’s chest, giving Drake’s nipples a subtle squeeze. “You fucking him?”
“No.” Drake knew he should push Stony away, but the contact felt good. So what if he’d rather have Oggie’s hands on him?
When Stony started to kiss and nip the underside of Drake’s jaw, Drake tilted his head back. “Shouldn’t you be flying the plane?”
“Why do you think I brought Johnny along? I was hoping to get a few moments alone with you.”
Drake knew better. Stony was notorious for fucking his co-pilots. It was the reason he always used a service instead of putting the poor men on the payroll. Stony moved his hands down to the front of Drake’s jeans.
“You must be slipping. Usually, by this time, your co-pilot’s head would already be in your lap sucking you off.” Drake wasn’t jealous. Hell, all he’d ever had with Stony was sex, and usually on the plane.
Stony chuckled, and Drake felt the deep sound vibrate in his chest. “We’ve still got a long flight. Besides, Johnny’s young. He’s the kind of kid who wants to be wined and dined first. Good thing we’re staying over in DC until you’re ready to leave.”
Stony was a slut and he never apologised for it. It was the reason Drake continued to fuck the guy, no strings. He took hold of Stony’s shoulders and put some distance between them. “You should stick with the kid this trip.”
“Who says I can’t have both?”
“I did.” Drake gestured to the coffee pot. “If you need a refill, get it yourself.”

Oggie watched Drake eat his soup. The damn stuff had to be cold, but either Drake didn’t notice or was used to it. Since he’d returned from making the captain’s coffee, Drake had been quiet and the expression on his face had turned more sour than usual. Had he hoped for a bigger ‘thank you’ from the captain than he’d been given?

Ignoring the bitter feeling the thought produced, Oggie tried to concentrate on the reason he’d been pulled away from the ranch. “So, this kid…you think he’ll fit in on the ranch? I mean, I’m more than willing to give these teenagers a home, but I don’t need trouble.”

Drake finished the last of his soup before pushing the bowl aside. “I won’t know until I see what all he’s into. Joseph doesn’t house the ones hooked on drugs unless they’re willing to go through a treatment programme. If Cullen’s strung out, I’d take a pass if I were you, but from the report I got, it sounds like he’s mixed up in hustling. If so, he’s redeemable. A lot of these street kids don’t have a choice. They either become prostitutes or starve.”

Instead of an opinion, Oggie felt as though Drake was trying to school him, and he didn’t appreciate it—not one bit. He leant across the table and stared Drake in the eyes. “I spent fourteen years on the Chicago PD. Do you really think I don’t know that shit? I was asking because I wanted to know if you knew more about him than what Asa told me over the phone.”

Drake sat back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “Sorry, guess I think of you as a rancher, not a cop.”
Of course you did, Oggie thought. After getting his goddamn hand blown off even his fellow cops no longer thought of him as one of them. Used to keeping his stump tucked against his side, Oggie held it up in front of Drake’s face. “Because of this? Believe me, the body may not be the same, but nothing happened to my fucking brain!”
Instead of getting a rise out of Drake, Oggie’s rant seemed to calm him. “I think of you as a rancher because of the way you dress, and because that’s what you are now. I’m sorry about what happened to you, man, but it could’ve been worse. So, if your pissy attitude is about that, you’re gonna have to get over it and move on.”
The anger whooshed out of Oggie. “Yeah, that’s the way I’ve looked at it since I woke up in the hospital.”
Shit
. He knew it was confession time. “Since I moved to Cattle Valley, you’re the first person who’s treated me like I’m handicapped.”
Drake sighed and picked up his empty bowl. “If I did, I didn’t mean it. Guess I just got used to doing stuff for my mom.” He stood. “She wasn’t like you,” he mumbled before walking down the aisle.
Oggie stared at Drake as he retreated to the front of the plane. He wasn’t sure what Drake meant by that last bit, but he felt like shit for calling the guy out. Although it had been true, he knew it was only part of his problem with Drake. No matter how much he’d tried to fight it, he was attracted to the man.
“Motherfucker,” Oggie groaned, getting to his feet. He picked up his plate and carried it to the galley. He found Drake wiping down the cabinet. “Now it’s my turn to apologise.”
Drake shook his head, but didn’t look up from the spotless counter. “No need.”
For the first time since the shooting, Oggie felt the urge to reach out and touch someone. He put his hand on Drake’s shoulder. His eyes closed at the contact. He’d obviously been lonelier than he’d admitted to himself because the simple touch warmed parts of him that had lain dormant since the shooting, since Ben had stopped returning his calls.
Oggie rested his forehead against Drake’s shoulder. “I haven’t always been such an asshole.”
Drake tossed the dishrag in the sink and turned his body until they were chest to chest. His arms wrapped around Oggie’s waist, but he didn’t say anything right away. “I have,” he eventually replied. “I learned at a young age not to let people in. Friends have the ability to hurt you.”
Oggie tilted his chin up. “You don’t have friends?”
Drake shook his head. “Not really. I have a few people I kid around with at work, but I don’t let them know the real me, so I wouldn’t consider them friends.”
With that distinction, Oggie wondered whether or not he had any. “I like to hang around with Nate, Ryan and Rio—they’re cool. Smokey’s a good man to work with, but now that you say that, I don’t know. Maybe I don’t have any either.”
Drake rested his lips on Oggie’s forehead. “You know more about me than anyone else. I wonder…”
“If we can be friends?” The idea made Oggie uneasy. He’d never had sex with a friend, and by the way his body was responding, he definitely wanted to crawl in bed with Drake.
Drake dipped his head down and kissed Oggie. It was soft and hesitant. Almost as if he wasn’t sure the action would be welcome.
Oggie took control, parting Drake’s lips with his tongue and thrusting inside. He was quickly pressed against the counter by Drake’s heavily muscled body. There was about a two inch difference in their height but thankfully their erections fit perfectly against each other. He moved his hips from side to side a few times as he continued to plunder the interior of Drake’s mouth with his tongue.
Drake was the first to break the kiss. “Jesus,” he panted. He placed his hands on Oggie’s ass and ground against him for several moments before releasing him and stepping back. “Unless you want a tour of Asa’s bedroom in the back of the plane, I’d suggest we take a break.”
It took Oggie several seconds to shake off the effects of their brief encounter enough to speak. “Yeah, probably a good idea.”