Pickup Men by Chase L.C

Author:Chase, L.C. [Chase, L.C.]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Riptide Publishing
Published: 2013-07-05T16:00:00+00:00

Tripp parted the window blind slats with a finger and peered out into the predawn rodeo grounds. More than half of the weekend’s competitors and the roughstock supplier had already pulled out the night before and headed for their next stop on the circuit. Only those who’d delayed the road a day to kick up their boots at the Legless Lizard remained, and a good number of those were probably sleeping it off in the beds of local buckle bunnies.

Hopefully luck would be on his side, and one of those waking up elsewhere would be Scott. The man was serious about his bunnies—even had a regular on the northern stops of the circuit.

Tripp let the slat fall back into place, then turned to finish buttoning up his jeans and froze.

Marty was half sitting up in bed, resting on one elbow, his hair sleep-styled into a sexy mess that begged for Tripp’s fingers, and the bedsheet pooled around his waist to obscure what Tripp knew would be an impressive morning wood. Maybe he could postpone his departure a little bit longer.

“Are you leaving?”

The restrained, almost accusatory tone in Marty’s voice drew Tripp’s focus from the body to the man. That was when he noticed the blank expression, the way Marty’s usually warm, open eyes seemed flat as if in effort to conceal his thoughts, and his lips set in too straight a line.

Tripp cleared his throat as guilt rose cold and constricting in his chest. “I . . . uh.”

He looked away and spotted his shirt on the floor at the foot of the bed. He needed to get dressed and get to his RV before anyone was up to notice him leaving. He needed to take his jeans off and get back into bed with Marty, lose himself in that peaceful haven. He didn’t want to keep hiding, but he didn’t know any other way to be. Even after telling Marty the truth, he still heard the distant thunder of hooves in the back of his mind when he let himself start thinking that things could be different.

The war between his desires and fears held him firmly in place, unable to move in any direction, unable to vocalize the chaos that plagued him.

“You need to deal with this.” Marty’s was voice softer now, the tone laced with an edge of concern.

Hooves pounded harder, grew louder. Tripp bent down and snatched up his rumpled shirt. He shook it out with jerky movements and shoved his arms into the shirtsleeves. “I can’t right now.”

“Then when?” Marty tracked his movements but didn’t meet his eyes. “They won’t go away on their own.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Tripp’s voice rose a notch. “You don’t know what it’s like to have a father who would rather kill you than accept that you’re gay, or how fucking terrifying coming out can be. You’ve always been out, always been accepted.”

Marty’s head tipped back slightly, eyebrows lifting just enough for Tripp to feel less than two inches tall.

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