Two Sides of the Same Coin Read Online Free PDF Page A

good clean sweat and soap, maybe Irish Spring. I pulled his hand, bringing him toward me as our faces moved closer together. I opened my mouth for the kiss and closed my eyes.
    All of a sudden, there was a racket at the door. I heard a familiar voice saying, “Yoo-hoo honey, I’m home or here anyway.” Robert was here. Mike and I dropped hands and backed off, acting like two embarrassed teenagers.
    “Finish with the coffee, will ya?” I asked as I headed to the other room and the door.
    “Did you miss me?”
    “I ain’t had too much time to miss anybody or anything. When did you get here? I didn’t even know you were coming. You look too fresh to have taken a red-eye and driven.” I gave Robert a quick hug and kiss.
    “I thought it was about time I came up here and brought my big, bad, cowboy stud home. I flew into Seattle and drove to Wenatchee yesterday. I stayed there and was up before dawn to get up here to bring you home.” Robert usually worked out in the morning, so getting up at four for the three hour drive here wasn’t such a stretch. I smiled at him. It was nice to hear some easy banter rather than criticism.
    I heard a snort and muffled laugh from the kitchen.
    “Come on in. We were just fixin’ to have coffee. Want some?”
    “Is it that cowboy style coffee you like so much?”
    “Yep.”
    “I’ll pass. Do you have any tea?”
    “I suppose. C’mon in the kitchen and meet Mike.”
    “Mike?”
    “Yeah, he works here. We were just chattin’.”
    We walked into the kitchen. Mike was slouched back on one of the chairs by the big old wooden kitchen table. His long lean legs stretched out in front of him were encased in tight Wranglers. His scuffed cowboy boots were crossed at the ankles. He had on a big dinner plate belt buckle proclaiming him a champion in roping at the local rodeo. He wore a thick flannel shirt in a green plaid; the sleeves were rolled up and the red sleeves of his long handles protruded down to his wrists. A once white cowboy hat completed his dress.. All in all, he was a pretty hot picture to see. The Wranglers fit him good, real good. He stood up as we headed into the kitchen.
    “Mike, Robert; Robert, Mike,” I said in the way of introduction as I searched through the cabinets for some tea bags. Finding some, I turned to put some water on.
    Mike was looking at Robert with faint hostility. Robert was looking at Mike like he was an ice cream cone on a hot day.
    “Ohhh, be still my beating heart. What a handsome cowboy! It’s too bad I have a cowboy of my own, or you could save a horse and ride me!”
    “Fat chance!”
    “A feisty one too!”
    “I’ll take a rain check on that coffee; I’m sure you two got lots to catch up on.” Mike stalked out.
    “Bye, bye, you cute studmuffin you!”
    “Robert, we’re not in San Francisco. These guys would kick the shit outta you as soon as talk to you if you get ’em pissed off.”
    “Don’t tell me you’re heading back into the closet out here, Jeffrey.”
    “No, I just know these people; they are laid-back and they don’t care as long as you don’t shove nothing in their faces.”
    “Well, I am who I am, sweetheart. So when are you going to sell this dump and come back to the city?”
    “Robert, give me a break! My dad’s funeral was only a few days ago, and I ain’t had too much time to figure out just what I want to do.”
    I looked at Robert. There was no denying he was a handsome man. About six-two, he was very muscular from hour after hour spent in the gym. Where I was long and lean, Robert was stocky. He had immaculately coiffed brown hair. His features were regularly shaped and pleasant. He also had one of the most camp senses of humor I had ever seen. It seemed funny in San Francisco, but plastic and overdone here. He was all duded up in a Brooks and Dunn type cowboy shirt, with stiffly ironed creases, Levis, and new boots of something that looked like alligator skin. He was wearing a new felt hat way back