Jacob's Ladder by Z.A. Maxfield

Author:Z.A. Maxfield [Maxfield, Z.A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: erotic MM, Romance MM
ISBN: 9781607378068
Goodreads: 7885847
Publisher: Loose ID
Published: 2010-06-15T07:00:00+00:00

Yeah, well…shit.

We ordered carnitas, and they came in a heaping plateful with delicate corn

tortillas that tasted handmade. We got rice and beans on the side and a bowl of pico

de gallo and one of red hot salsa, chopped extra fine but not quite pureed, smoky

with chipotle and maybe a hit of habanero, but bright with fresh tomatoes, cilantro,

and sweet red onion.

Cam could eat, and I liked that on a guy since I‟m somewhat handy in the

kitchen. I often expressed myself with food, and Cam—he could really put it away.

He grinned around great mouthfuls, bluff and hearty, but still boyish and maybe a

little impudent in his worn cowboy boots and formfitting jeans. He dared me to

drink three shots in succession—the time-honored way with a lick of salt and a bite

of lime—and eyed me with the kind of intent that made the hot sauce seem tepid by

comparison. At least four times I sat there silently wishing that Cam were the one.

That my focus didn‟t stray to the quiet corner of the bar where JT sat with his

homecoming queen, hand on his chin, hanging on her every word. At least that

many times I begged the Fates to turn me around, to cause my heart to quicken

when I looked at Cam the way it did when I caught sight of JT lifting his wineglass

to his lips.

All the same, while I chatted and ate, I felt JT‟s gaze on me, as if he was as

drawn to me as I was to him, and I felt sorry for him.

Cam‟s appeal was in-your-face, and JT‟s was as subtle as a whisper. JT lacked

Cam‟s cowboy charm. He lacked Cam‟s humor and bravado, yet I couldn‟t keep from

looking over at him again and again, until JT and Elaine shared a dessert and then

paid their tab and got up to leave. By that time I‟d had plenty to drink, and his

presence seemed funny, if a little sad. My own pathetic state didn‟t bear thinking

on.

“So then”—Cam was telling the story of a dramatic 911 call that involved

downed electrical wires and rain—“we have to rescue this guy in a pickup truck,

and we discover that he‟s been riding around, naked from the waist down, flashing

truckers. Started the whole damned thing.”

“What a mess,” I agreed, grinning now because JT was finally gone and I could

breathe again. “It‟s a nightmare when you‟re doing something dumb and you need

to be rescued.”

“What dumb thing have you done?”

“Me?” I remembered a time when I was about twenty-three. “I was in a bar

getting shitfaced, and a bomb went off outside the disco next door. It just decimated

the crowd waiting to get in, blew out all the windows on the block.”

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