Love in Xxchange: Miles to Go (3 page)

“It’s fine. I just…” Max lifted his head a little and peered around the room, unable to keep looking into Bo’s intense eyes. “I get nervous, don’t feel comfortable around many people.” Max gave in and picked up the glass, slick with moisture. He concentrated on not MILES TO GO

Bailey Bradford

15

dropping it while he took another sip, this time barely parting his lips to keep from choking on another ice cube.

It almost didn’t matter. He could feel Bo watching him. Max cut the man a glance as he swallowed and nearly spluttered all over again when Bo licked his lips. Unless Max was wrong, Bo was watching his throat as Max drank. He forced the sweet liquid down and kept his eyes on Bo in what he hoped was a discreet manner. Max took another swallow. Bo’s gaze seemed to follow the liquid’s path right down Max’s throat, which was weird, and a little unsettling.
Maybe Bo’s just really thirsty, too.

If Max’s hand shook a bit when he set his glass back down, he figured it was from nerves. He was still concerned about doing something foolish. It had nothing to do with the way Bo’s cheeks had pinked or the strange light in his eyes that made it look like Bo glowed from the inside out.

Thirsty
, Max thought, and he reached across the table for Bo’s sweaty glass of tea.

Instead of picking it up, Max slid it over until it bumped Bo’s fingertips. Bo blinked and shook his head then turned away to grab his drink.

“Thanks,” Bo murmured.

Max nodded. The man obviously needed to whet his whistle. “It’s good tea, not too sweet.” And could he get more pathetic, talking about tea instead of something a little more interesting? Max racked his brain and finally found something not so asinine to talk about.

“So, what have you been up to? You on your way home?”

What tension had remained in Max slowly bled out as he sat back and listened to Bo talk. The man sure could chatter, which Max was glad of since it saved him from having to try to do much talking.

After they finished their dinner and were waiting for the waitress to bring them their slices of pecan pie, Bo leant back and rubbed his stomach. He’d moved back across the table shortly before their chicken fried steaks had arrived, and now Max found himself watching for the reappearance of Bo’s hand as he made slow circles over his belly.

What with the table in the way, Max could only catch sight of part of that hand, and it didn’t occur to him until he started to lean over a bit, to question why he was so fascinated by what Bo was doing. What was wrong with him? Max pressed his shoulders against the back of the seat. Bo would think he was some kind of weirdo if he kept it up. And he really needed to tune in to what Bo was saying, something about going to a club—

MILES TO GO

Bailey Bradford

16

“…but if you can take a couple of days off, you could drive to San Antonio and we can hang out. I’ll take you down to the River Walk, every tourist has to go there. There’s this great chocolate store there, they have the best toffee and these caramel apples that are bigger than my fist.” Bo held up one clenched hand and waved it around. The man looked so happy and hopeful, but Max shook his head.

“I can’t, Bo. We got a couple mares ready to deliver any time now, I’m sorry.” Max was, but he was also relieved to have a legitimate excuse for saying no. As foreman at the Galloway Ranch, it was his responsibility to make sure the births went smoothly, and even though the vet was on call if she was needed, Max just didn’t want to risk not being there when those foals were born. Seeing those little babies stand up on their wobbly legs was one of the best things Max ever got to experience. And yeah, it got him out of having to leave his comfort zone, but that really was secondary in this case.

Bo seemed to lose some of that sparkle even as he nodded and dropped his hand back to the table. “Yeah, I understand. Maybe another time then.” He didn’t look like he was holding out much hope for it though, and Max just wasn’t up to offering him any. Luckily the waitress arrived with their pie then and the subject was dropped as the two men enjoyed their dessert.

Later that night, as Max laid in bed, he kept puzzling over the way Bo had seemed so disappointed when Max had said he couldn’t go to San Antonio. That bothered him almost as much as the way he’d been so fascinated with Bo rubbing his stomach. Max huffed and rolled onto his back. Behind his closed lids, Max kept seeing that hand caressing Bo’s shirt, pressing lightly to rub against the muscles underneath.

Without really thinking about it, he brought his hand up and mimicked the movement.

He guessed it felt okay, but probably not the same as if he’d been doing it to Bo, or if it’d been Bo’s hand touching him—Max’s eyes snapped open at the shocking thought. It wasn’t the idea of a man touching him that shocked him, Max’s reaction would have been the same if Bo was a woman—which kind of didn’t make sense, but the fact was, he’d never really thought about anyone touching him like that, not for a long, long time. And he didn’t quite know what to make of it now that he had.

MILES TO GO

Bailey Bradford

17

Max was in the barn the next morning when he heard the arguing. Already exhausted from another sleepless night, he tried to ignore the squabbling, because siblings argued, didn’t they? But Rory and Annabelle weren’t getting any quieter, their voices rising and anger edging each word they spewed at each other. It made Max’s stomach roil and his chest tighten, and his fight or flight instincts were trying their best to take over.

A particularly loud shout from Annabelle made Max’s head spin with memories, and his hands tightened on the pitchfork until his grip caused pain to shoot up his forearms. He wanted to run and hide, and therefore, he wouldn’t, though he just might go snap some sense into those two kids.

Setting the pitchfork down carefully, Max took a deep breath and forced himself to relax, pushing away the unpleasant memories that seemed more determined lately to rise to the surface. He pasted a smile on his face and stepped out of the barn, intending to put an end to the bickering. A big hand clamping down on his shoulder nearly made him squeak, and Max glanced behind him to find Chance shaking his head at him.

“They’ll work it out,” Chance murmured, nodding at Rory and Annabelle.

Max looked at the two siblings, who were flapping their hands in the air as if to emphasise that their opinion was the right one. “The hell they going on about?”

Chance squeezed his shoulder then patted it before removing his hand. “Well…”

Something about the man’s hesitation had Max slowly turning to face him. “Well,

what?”

Chance glanced at the scene the two younger people were putting on, grimacing when Annabelle’s loud refusal to cave in to her brother’s demands punctuated the air. “It seems that Annabelle doesn’t feel right about staying in the house any longer—with us.”

That would explain the comment—the loud comment—that Max had heard moments

ago. Annabelle had proclaimed that she was perfectly capable of making her own decisions about where to stay, and Max had wondered what the hell she was talking about. Now he knew, sort of. Then he wondered why.

“She got a problem with you and Rory?” Max glanced at Annabelle, trying to envision that. She’d seemed more than happy about her brother’s choice of a partner when she’d arrived, and the same at the few dinners Max had attended up at the big house.

MILES TO GO

Bailey Bradford

18

“Nah, nothing like that,” Chance assured him. “She just thinks that if she’s going to be working here, she should be treated like any other employee when it comes to her living quarters. Any other employee being you, of course.”

Max thought it might be more than that, like maybe Annabelle didn’t want to impose on her brother and Chance’s privacy, but he wasn’t going to butt in here. Then it dawned on him where she’d be staying.

“You’re gonna put a woman in the bunkhouse with me?” Max burst out before

thinking. The unwanted image of Gloria Steinem driving a spike through his balls flashed through his head and he cringed. “I don’t mean it bad, just…” He couldn’t figure out a good way to finish that sentence, so he shut up.

Chance snickered and slapped him on the back. “I know what you mean, it isn’t

something that you’ve ever had happen to you, but neither is working for a gay man and his partner, is it? I’d think a woman in the bunkhouse would be easier to accept…” Chance paused and gave him a considering look. “Or maybe you’re worried about something happening there?”

Max could feel the blush burning his cheeks, but he looked Chance straight in the eyes.

“No, sir, I wouldn’t dare mess with Rory’s sister. I like my job.”

“Well, then.” Chance grinned, and Max felt more than a little trepidation shoot down his spine. “Looks like you’re getting a bunkhouse-mate.” With that and a wink, he walked over to Rory and pulled his lover aside, effectively shutting down Rory’s rant.

Annabelle glanced his way and Max nodded, letting his usual grin slip into place. She bounced down the porch steps and jogged towards Max.

“I’m sorry about the pissing contest,” Annabelle said as soon as she was close enough to be heard easily. “I wouldn’t have thought my brother would be so old-fashioned.”

“I’m sure he was just worried about you,” Max replied, then wondered exactly what it was Rory had objected to. The idea of his sister living with Max? Or was it just that he wanted better for Annabelle than a bunkhouse?

“Do
you
have a problem with it?” Annabelle’s eyes were as dark a blue as her brother’s, and she held Max in place with the power of her midnight gaze.

Max wanted to be diplomatic, and not make Rory or Annabelle mad. He didn’t really have a problem with a woman sharing the bunkhouse with him—it wasn’t like he found Annabelle attractive, though she was cute and everything. It’d just surprised him, but as MILES TO GO

Bailey Bradford

19

Chance had said, it was actually easy to accept. “It ain’t up to me, but if you decide that the bunkhouse is where you want to stay, I don’t have a problem with it.”

“Good, because I’d rather you be comfortable than not,” Annabelle replied. Max took that to mean she would have stayed in the bunkhouse even if he had spoken out against it.

But I didn’t, and who knows, maybe it would be nice to have someone else around
.
Although
what we’ll talk about other than work is beyond me.
Come to think of it, it might not be any different than before. Max wasn’t sure whether that was a good thing or a bad thing, because sometimes, if he was honest with himself, he almost ached to have someone to be close to.

Annabelle living there wouldn’t change that at all. She was a nice young lady and all, but there wasn’t any spark, and Max wasn’t hoping for one anyway. There would probably be some polite conversation, and Annabelle would almost surely want to eat dinner with Rory and Chance most nights, so Max would be alone. As he glanced back at Rory and Chance huddled together on the porch, their arms tangled around each other and both of them looking so…
happy
, Max tried to tell himself that being alone was what he’d always wanted, or at least what was best for him.

The problem was he couldn’t seem to believe it quite so firmly anymore. He

acknowledged the truth of that thought—and damned if he didn’t blame it for what happened a few days later.

MILES TO GO

Bailey Bradford

20

Max was in the North field doing one of his least favourite tasks—repairing the fence.

They’d had a storm blow through the night before that had been more wind than rain—a lot more wind. He was guessing that might have something to do with the tree he’d found on the smashed fence. The result was that Max had got to play with the chainsaw first before tackling the repair job.

Using the chainsaw was almost worth having to fix the fence. There was just something fun about it, and the concentration it took to keep from cutting off his limbs kept his mind from wandering in directions he’d rather it not go. Lately his mind seemed determined to think of Bo at odd times—Max snorted.
Right. Odd being most of the time.
He’d given up freaking out about it and put it down to having a real—he hoped—friend for the first time in a very long time. Sure, Rory, Chance and Annabelle were kind of friends, but Chance was his boss, and Rory was too, and Annabelle was related to Rory. It wasn’t quite the same thing, and even though he hadn’t seen Bo since they’d ate dinner together at Cowboy’s, they had talked on the phone a couple of times, and it had been…nice.

“And I’m just wasting time,” Max muttered. He got the chainsaw started and forced his attention on keeping his parts attached like he preferred them. All too soon he had the tree cut into pieces he could load into the truck bed by himself. He might not be the tallest, buffest looking guy around, but he had a surprising strength. It didn’t take long for him to load up the soon-to-be firewood. Now he only had the fence left to deal with, and he tried to get himself motivated.

“Quicker I get started, the sooner I’m done with this.” That didn’t really help one damn bit. Max knew he’d never make it as a motivational speaker, and besides, someone had taken his personal motto and made it into a shoe slogan—
Just Do It!

He wasn’t doing ‘it’ or anything else as he stood there holding the ground down. Max sighed and wondered what was wrong with him—he never hesitated to work, not even when it was something he
despised
doing. There were things he disliked more than stringing barbed wire, but he couldn’t think of a single one right then.

MILES TO GO

Bailey Bradford

21

Max reached for the roll of wire he’d brought with him. His walkie talkie snapped with static, then Annabelle’s voice came through loud—really loud—and clear.

“Hey, Max, you busy?”

Max could hear the smirk in her voice. He slid his two-way off its clip and thumbed the button. “Nah, Miz Annabelle, you just caught me right before my nap.” Max never would have thought he’d tease Rory’s sister like that, but after an initial bit of awkwardness on his part, they’d got along great since Annabelle had moved into the bunkhouse. Max had never had a little sister of his own—he was the next youngest in a brood of eight brothers—but he’d always wished he did.