Strung Up: A Blacktop Cowboys® Novella Read Online Free PDF Page B

searching for a buyer for his temperamental—but highly prized—horse, Dial. As my brother’s rodeo buddy, Breck had offered to give Dial a trial run and I’d volunteered to take the horse to the stock show.
    I hadn’t expected my brother’s big-time rodeo buddy to be into guys.
    I really hadn’t expected a charismatic guy who looked like Breck to be into me .
    Around my twenty-first birthday, I’d accepted my attraction to men wasn’t a phase and that actually made me…gay. By age twenty-four I hadn’t come out of the closet. I’d been cautious with hookups, sticking with blowjobs and hand jobs. I’d fucked a couple of guys and had let a couple fuck me. Pretty straightforward stuff.
    Then I’d met Breck.
    He’d taken my carnal education to a whole other level. It’d been an eye opener for me, experiencing that kind of deep passion and intimacy with another man. It’d given me hope that someday I’d find that same connection again, but something permanent I could be open about.
    The last time I’d seen Breck had been at my brother Sutton’s wedding. He’d shown up with a date—she was trashy and he was testy and surly with everyone. Even my sister-in-law mentioned Breck was quickly running out of friends on the circuit due to his recent attitude and actions.
    At the time I’d wondered how much longer he could continue to live the lie. I’d intended to take him aside and try and get him to open up to me, but that night my father had suffered a near-fatal heart attack. And much later that night, I’d ended up with Mick.
    My body flushed hot with guilt. I’d never told Mick about Breck. It hadn’t seemed relevant. Breck had been a sexual mentor. That was it. And after Mick and I were a couple, I hadn’t thought about Breck at all.
    Maybe that’s why you haven’t told Breck about Mick either.
    More guilt kicked in. Telling Breck about the death of my lover and that I’d spent the last two years in a fog would definitely put a damper on tonight’s possibilities. I still wasn’t sure if I could be with another man.
    But wouldn’t Breck be the perfect guy to test out that theory on?
    “Cres?”
    I glanced up and realized London’s sister, Stirling, was standing in front of me. “Hey. Sorry. My mind was elsewhere.” I smiled at her. “I hoped I’d get to see you since I heard you were living in the area and had become a farmer—which I see is a lie because you are not rockin’ the overalls.”
    Standoffish Stirling actually hugged me and laughed. “It’s true. I feel like a different person after I tossed off the shackles of corporate America. I’ve gone completely country, back to my roots.”
    I gave her bohemian outfit—jeans covered in rhinestones and a sheer, floral top—a quick once-over and whistled. “Overalls or not, farmer looks good on you.” Stirling was one of those tall, willowy Nordic blondes with an icy outer demeanor that scared off most men. She and I had always gotten along great because I wanted nothing from her except friendship.
    She kept a hold of my arm and squeezed my biceps. “Ranching has always looked good on you, Creston Grant. Are you sure you’re gay? Because a dude with your looks and physique should definitely reproduce.”
    Just then Breck sauntered in on the other side of the tent.
    Our eyes met.
    Heat from his hungry look rolled through me in a wave of want so strong I had to lock my knees.
    Yeah, sweetheart. I am one hundred percent about the dick.
    “Have you eaten?” Stirling said. “I got stuck waiting for Liam the Lab Loser to show up and missed the chow line.”
    “Actually, I was headed that direction.”
    “Let’s dine together.” She looped her arm though mine.
    I felt Breck’s eyes on us. I could almost feel his impatience pulsing through the air.
    It won’t hurt him to wait a little longer. And it’ll make you seem less desperate.
    So I remained fully aware of Breck pacing on the other side of the tent as I loaded up a