Authors: Bailey Bradford

Wesley (27 page)

BOOK: Wesley

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He was beginning to think they might just be able to make themselves a home here.

“That’s the look I like to see on your face.”

Troy glanced away from Will’s brilliant smile and turned to Carlos. “What look?”

Carlos’ smile was a bare curve of lips, but it packed a sensual punch like you wouldn’t believe. “That one, the happy, you love us look. Makes me feel like I could fly.”

“It’s an awesome look, Troy,” Will affirmed. “If my ass didn’t feel like I’d just had a huge dick shoved up it, I’d be on you like stripes on a tiger.”

“Y’all know I love you both,” Troy said more gruffly than he’d intended. “I’m just, you know, nervous about moving here and…and what my role is going to be. I don’t know anything about ranching.”

Will shrugged. “Yeah, me either, but I know Carlos, and I know you. The three of us can do whatever we need to, to make the Mossy Glenn a successful ranch again for our friends.”

“And employers,” Troy added. “Don’t forget, Nick, Annabelle, and Rory are our bosses, too.”

Will nodded. “Yup. So are their partners. We’ve got a shitload of bosses, so we are going to make sure we don’t let ‘em down. I’m sure there’s plenty you and I can do while Carlos cowboys around.”

Carlos snorted and started straightening his clothing. “Hand me the wipes out of the glove compartment, please.”

Will got the wipes and handed some to Troy, too. “I have an idea,” Will started, grinning fit to be tied when Carlos gave him an arch look. “What? It’s a good idea! You know, we have to hire a whole new staff, or hands, or whatever you call them.”

“Yeah,” Carlos agreed. “Sure do since the place has been run into the ground and everyone fired or quit.” He sighed and ran his fingers through his thick black and grey hair. “Gonna be a pain in the ass trying to find people willing to come back to the Mossy Glenn.”

Will winked at Troy, then looked at Carlos. “So, what if we place some ads in some of the gay mags and newspapers?”

Carlos stopped mid-zip. Troy did, too. Troy frowned and cocked his head to one side as he contemplated the idea. “You mean hire only gay cowboys?” Troy wasn’t sure he was down with that. He trusted his men, but only a fool would want temptation right the fuck there with them.

Will shrugged. “Gay, bi, lesbian, trans—every colour of the rainbow, and straight, too, if they’re friendly to us. Wouldn’t think there’d be any bigots reading those kinds of papers and applying for jobs. Plus, I think they’d be more likely to understand what we have going on.”

Troy sure felt like he paled, though he didn’t know for certain. “I. Uh.” He rubbed his forehead and finished dressing. Once he did so, he realised Will and Carlos were still waiting for him to speak. Troy grimaced and scratched his shorn head. “I hadn’t thought about that,” he said truthfully. “Just figured we’d be together and fuck it all, you know? I didn’t even consider how other people would react.”

Will nodded, but Carlos only grunted, watching Troy closely before speaking. “That gonna be a problem, other people’s opinion of us?”

“You know it’s not,” Troy snapped, feeling peevish and petty because maybe it would be, a little, and he didn’t want it to be an issue. He just needed to find his backbone. Other people’s opinions really
didn’t
matter, he was just being a worry wart. Troy shook himself internally and stood up a little straighter. “It’s not,” he reiterated. “But I think we should hire ugly men with shitty personalities.”

Carlos’ eyes widened and Will laughed like a loon. Troy raised his hands up, palms out in an almost pleading gesture. “What? I’m just suggesting we not be swayed by pretty faces.”

And Carlos, who always seemed to know just when Troy was feeling insecure, pinned him in place with a dark stare. “You know you ain’t gotta worry about neither one of us screwing around. You’re all we want, me, Will, you. That’s it, that’s perfection.”

If Carlos had said it in any other way besides his usual, calm manner, Troy’s doubts might have lingered. But with Carlos so certain, and Will’s heart in his eyes, Troy wondered why he ever doubted them in the first place. “Same goes,” he said, a warm, comforting flow of love moving through him. “I’m okay with Will’s idea.”

Carlos didn’t speak right away, instead kissing first Will, then Troy, thoroughly before stepping back. “We’ll talk about it once we get to the ranch and see what’s what there. May be we don’t have any other choice. Montana ain’t the most tolerant place for us folks.”

“Neither is Texas,” Troy pointed out. But they’d had quite a few friends, in the long run. Now they’d have just each other. Troy hoped it would be enough if things got nasty. “I’m not trying to be a jerk. I want this to work.”

“This?” Will asked.

Troy resisted rolling his eyes, barely. “This, as in the ranching thing. I know we’ll work. I just kinda worry.” He tucked his hands into his front pockets and toed at the grass. “You know, like…like that news story about the gay couple whose barn and fields were set on fire? They lost everything except the ranch house. All their cattle and horses, and just ‘cuz some dumbfuck bigots got a hateful hair up their ass. That’s the kind of thing I’m worried about.”

Carlos had his deep-thought expression in place, but Will was chattering almost instantly. “Yeah, well, we can put up security cameras and see, if we just hire people who definitely aren’t bigots, they won’t be likely to try to kill us. We don’t have to flaunt anything, but I don’t want us to discriminate against someone who might be more…” Will fluttered his hands in the air. “Stereotypical, I mean, yet still very capable of doing a good job.”

“Let’s not put the horse before the cart,” Carlos finally said, drawing both of their attention. “We’ll discuss this more, but right now I’d really just like to get to the ranch.”

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About the Author

A native Texan, Bailey spends her days spinning stories around in her head, which has contributed to more than one incident of tripping over her own feet. Evenings are reserved for pounding away at the keyboard, as are early morning hours. Sleep? Doesn’t happen much. Writing is too much fun, and there are too many characters bouncing about, tapping on Bailey’s brain demanding to be let out.

Caffeine and chocolate are permanent fixtures in Bailey’s office and are never far from hand at any given time. Removing either of those necessities from Bailey’s presence can result in what is known as A Very, Very Scary Bailey and is not advised under any circumstances.