Wild Trail (Clean Slate Ranch #1)(4)
Arthur’s eyes lit up with silent laughter. “Hopefully no one in town wants a BLT for dinner tonight.”
“They would be shit out of luck.”
“How’s our new batch of guests look?” Arthur descended the four wood steps to stand next to Mack. They had similar heights and builds, and some folks swore they saw Arthur in Mack, but Mack never could.
“Not too bad. Married couple, small family, two groups of friends and a bridal party. Sixteen total.”
“Good, good. You and Colt going out tonight?”
The abrupt conversation shift startled Mack. He’d come out to Arthur years ago, right after Arthur came out to him—gay his entire life, but hiding it for decades until he said fuck it, I’m out. Hence his purple T-shirts and the rainbow flag proudly displayed on their flagpoles each day next to the American flag and the California state flag. The Clean Slate Ranch was gay-friendly and proud of it.
“Yeah,” Mack replied. “Reyes is coming out for a change.”
“You’re never going to meet someone if all you ever do is visit bars and dance clubs.”
Mack shrugged. “I don’t want to meet anyone right now.”
“Hmm. Maybe, maybe not. Why don’t you try those dating apps on your phone?”
“What’s with the sudden urge to marry me off?” That came out with more anger than necessary. “Sorry, I just... I’m not ready.”
“It’s been nearly five years, son.”
“I know how long it’s been, believe me.” Long enough that he could think about Geoff without his heart breaking wide-open, but not long enough that he was ready to risk his heart a second time. Losing Geoff had hurt too damned much.
Arthur sighed. “Why don’t you come have dinner at the house with me and Judson tonight? Reyes and Colt, too.” Also a widower, Judson was the only person who lived in the main house with Arthur. A row of two-man cabins fifty yards north of the house was where the hands lived.
Mack could have had a cabin to himself, but he genuinely didn’t mind sharing with Reyes. He was quiet, tidy, and he’d seemed to really need the companionship when he first moved to the ranch, only a few months after Mack. “Sure, why not?” he replied. “You cooking?” Silly question, because if Arthur loved anything more than his horses, it was cooking. Even if his recipes were pretty basic.
“Certainly. I’ve had a roast in the slow cooker all day.”
Mack sniffed the air, but couldn’t detect the scent of cooking meat over the rest of the odors of the ranch. “Mashed potatoes?”
“Of course. What kind of monster do you think I am?”
“Just checking.” And teasing. Arthur was a tried-and-true meat and potatoes man. Where there was one, there was the other. “I’ll see you around six, then?”
“Six it is.”
“Cool. I have to get a few more things ready for tomorrow’s checkin. See you in a while.”
Mack strode toward the tourist barn and his office. Most of his work for tomorrow was finished, so he bypassed the office and walked down two stalls to his personal horse, Tude. A paint mare with several ugly scars on her flanks, thanks to a brutal previous owner, she’d come into Arthur’s care around the same time as Mack. Mack had fallen in love with the high-strung horse, renamed her Attitude, Tude for short, and Arthur had helped him retrain her.
She nickered at his presence, her big head rising over the stall’s gate. Mack held up a cube of sugar that she greedily picked up with her lips. He rubbed a hand over her smooth nose, up her long forehead. She had big brown eyes that simultaneously said “I like you” and “I dare you.” Attitude.
“What do I need a boyfriend for when I’ve got you, lady?” Mack asked softly, the only sounds in the barn the quiet movements of the other horses.
Tude didn’t have an answer for him.
Chapter Two
“If I survive this week, you owe me Katy Perry concert tickets,” Wes Bentley said as he scoped the sad state of Garrett’s Main Street from behind the wheel of Sophie’s SUV. The place looked exhausted of itself and ready to close up shop at any moment—a thought not helped by the various empty storefronts he drove past.
In the passenger seat, his sister Sophie blew him a raspberry. “You picked the ranch, bro, don’t blame me for the town.”
True story. When Sophie came to him last month demanding that in lieu of a traditional party-and-presents sort of bridal shower, she wanted to take the wedding party to a dude ranch for a vacation, he’d been crazy skeptical. The vacation, she’d said, was to relax everyone before they jumped into the insanity of planning the wedding. Wes was all about doing things outside of the box, but the idea of dusty trails and smelly horses wasn’t his idea of a vacation—until Sophie said the key words: cowboys in tight jeans.
I am all over cowboys in tight jeans, even if I’m only over them in my dreams. Or under them. Whatever.
Besides, Wes could deal with dust and smelly horses and cowboys in order to see Sophie happy. She was the most important person in his life, and she only got one wedding—he hoped—so he’d do whatever she wanted. It wasn’t as if he’d never been around dust and smelly horses before; those memories just weren’t good ones, was all. He could push his dislike aside for a week, though, even if everything around him reminded Wes of Drake.