Cowboy in the Crosshairs by B. A. Tortuga

Author:B. A. Tortuga [Tortuga, B. A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: gay romance
ISBN: 9781641080354
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Published: 2018-03-06T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

WACEY limped out of his therapy, wondering why on earth he had been so insistent on driving himself.

Maybe because he’d spent the last ten years on the road and he was chomping at the bit. Maybe because he wanted some freedom. Maybe because he wanted to listen to a little AC/DC on the radio. Loud.

He got to his truck and sat for a minute in the cab, his whole body feeling like a punching bag. Okay. Breathe. In and out.

In. Out.

He needed a beer.

Oh. A beer. Nothing big, nothing illegal. Just a beer at somewhere not home.

Maybe he ought to call Tank. Not while he was driving; that might get him killed at this point.

Maybe he’d stop at the Oasis and then call. That might work. If it didn’t, at least it was a plan.

He reached up to turn the key, and his phone went off, damned near giving him a heart attack. Wacey grabbed at it, fumbling as he tried to get his sweaty fingers to swipe.

“Hold on! Hold on! Hello?”

When he finally got the stupid thing to his ear, he heard a very familiar warm chuckle. “Did I get you at a bad time?”

“No. No. Hey. Sorry, I was just done with therapy. What’s up?”

“Well, the kids decided to go to a pizza party and stay over at their cousin’s. Want to come have a beer? I have pizza rolls and ranch dip.”

“Are you serious? I’d love to.” Wait. Good idea? Bad idea? Fuck it. It was his idea. Now he didn’t have to ask.

“I am. Come on. You know where my place is? Just off Mesa Road on County Road 50.”

“Okay. I’ll look for it. Are you off the road?” Are you sure?

“Not far off. Maybe a hundred yards. I have one of those ten-acre lots Milton Hernandez sold off.”

“Ah. Okay. Okay, right. I remember those.”

“Cool. The boys just left, so come on. I’ll get the pizza rolls in the oven.”

“Do I need to stop and pick anything up?”

“Only if you’re picky. I have Corona and Bud Light.”

“I’m not picky. See you in a half hour.”

“I’m waiting with bated breath.” TJ hung up, and Wacey was tempted to stop at Jerry Lee’s gas station and buy worms.

What he did, though, was call Peter, because his other option was his sisters, and… ew.

“You’re doing what, man?” Peter sounded a thousand miles away.

“Going to TJ’s for supper. Like just him and me. Together.”

“Jealous! Do you want, like, an escape text?”

“Huh?” What the hell?

“You know, I can text you in an hour and you can pretend it’s an emergency?”

“Yeah, no. I think we’ll manage.”

“Do you have rubbers?”

“Shut up, Peter.” He wasn’t sure he was up to anything that required rubbers.

“Seriously. You need rubbers.”

“Peter.”

“What? I want to live vicariously. Promise me you’ll stop and get rubbers.”

“Okay. Dude. Asshole. Goodbye.”

He didn’t stop. The idea of trying to shift out of the truck made him a tad hysterical. What he did do was get to Tank’s house and text his folks. He didn’t want them to worry.

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