Chapter 2
CHAPTER 2
Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Jake smiled at the next little old-folker, signed a picture of himself, and nodded, but in his head, he was losing his mind.
He’d fucked up in a vast, horrifying way.
He didn’t even begin to know what to do.
Change his number? His whole life was on his phone.
Run to Mexico? Now there was an idea. Cheap hotel. Tequila. Boom.
If he didn’t make the short go, that was his plan.
Mexico. Beach. Hiding out. It was perfect.
Of course, as much as gas cost right now, he probably wouldn’t make it to Mexico if he didn’t ride. Jesus, he was a moron.
He’d ride.
If he had to, he’d superglue his butt to the bull.
Okay, that was a funny thought.
He signed another photo. “Thank you, sir.”
“You’re welcome.”
The voice had his head snapping up, his eyes widening.
No fucking way.
He sat there with his teeth in his mouth, not having the slightest idea of what to say.
Fucking Treat.
“Hey, there, Jake.”
“Hey. I—How are you?” He stood, taking a deep breath and trying to be calm, holding out one hand to shake. If there was a tremor in his fingers, well, Treat didn’t say a thing.
“Good.” Treat shook hands, lingering on it. “Good. You riding tonight?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Then let me take you to dinner?”
“I—” He shouldn’t.
It was a terrible idea.
There was no way.
“When?”
“How about when you’re done here?” Treat checked his watch, which was still the same beat-up old gold watch with the leather band.
That was early, but he could be done fast. “Give me fifteen, sure.”
Maybe he could scoot out the back door of the arena.
“I’ll be back.” That dark brown gaze burned into his. “Don’t you run from me, Jake.”
If he wasn’t careful, he was going to spring wood, right here on the midway. Dammit.
“I ain’t scared.” He put all his bravado into it.
“You should be.” Treat sauntered off, and he looked around, trying to smile at the next lady in his line.
“Who was that, son?” she asked, and he smiled.
“An old friend. He heard I was in town. How are you?”
“I’m good. You were so close the last ride, hmm? I’ll be cheering you on.”
“Thank you, ma’am. I appreciate you, more than I can say.”
He was going to have a stroke.
“You’re welcome. Is your friend a roughstock rider?”
He handed her a picture. “No, ma’am. He ropes sometimes. You have a good day now.”
She had to move on or he was gonna lose his proverbial shit.
“You as well.” She waved and walked, and he signed the last handful of photos before his time was up.
Now he could run, because damn .
He grabbed his duffel, which held pretty much all his shit, including his bull rope, and made a break for it.
Treat caught him at the closest set of big double doors that led out of the arena. “Off to the races, Jake?”
“Shut up, Treat. I was hunting you.” Sort of. In a totally backassward sort of way, anyway.
“Hmmm. Sure you were. Want a corny dog?”
That had him blinking, trying to decide whether to laugh or cry.
“Sure.” That wasn’t out to supper , but it worked. He could pay for his own and be done. “There’s a concession stand over here.”
Maybe he’d just have a beer.
“I mean, I would drive you to the steakhouse, but you look like you’re gonna bolt, honey. And I want to talk to you. You want to go in my truck?”
“Just tell me where you want me, man.”
“Oh, now, Jake. That’s dangerous. Come on. We’ll get on out of here and go to a restaurant.”
His cheeks liked to light afire, and all he could do was duck his head. His cock chose that moment to remind him it still worked, too. Damn it all.
He followed Treat to his shiny new pickup, slipping his bag in the back and sliding into the passenger seat.
“I’m craving a steak, so that’s what we’re having. Cool?”
“You’re driving, babe.” That was how their relationship worked.
“I am. But if you’re wanting Chinese, that might be a problem.”
Jake scoffed. “Like I’ll turn down a steak.” It had been what? A year and a half? Longer?
He was a cowboy on a budget.
Not a burger budget, but not a steak one either. Or at least not the steak that Treat would buy into.
“I got us a reservation at the Barn Door.”
See? That was the kind of place that charged six bucks extra for a baked potato. Not like the Texas Roadhouse at all.
“Good thing I got my sponsor shirt on, huh?” He was trying to keep it light.
“Yep. That will get us free drinks at least.” Treat gave him a slow sideways grin that made him shiver.
Good Lord and butter, what the sam hell was he supposed to do?
Seriously.
He was going to lose his shit or shoot his wad. He wasn’t sure which.
“You okay, honey?” Treat asked, gaze back on the road.
“No. I made an ass out of myself. I’m embarrassed.” And that was the truth.
“I’m glad you did. I been looking for a reason.” A glance at Treat showed he wasn’t as calm and cool as he sounded. His jaw was tight, his knuckles white on the steering wheel.
“I was a moron, but…” It hadn’t been a lie. None of it.
“No, sir. None of that. We’re gonna have a steak dinner and go from there.” Treat glanced at him again, dark brown gaze burning into him.
“Right. I haven’t indulged in a long damn time.”
“I haven’t been out for one, and the Barn does a damn fine job.” Treat gave him a sideways kind of look. “Remember that Cattleman’s in Fort Worth?”
“I do.” How could anyone forget? There’d been an amazing steak, a hand job in a bathroom, and he’d gone back to the hotel with Treat to finish the job.
They’d sucked and fucked all damn night long, leaving him bruised and broken and not ready to move on to the next ride. At all.
“Yeah, I think about that one a lot.” Treat turned off on the highway.
“Me too.” More than he’d like to admit.
“Well, good. I want you thinking about me.” Treat’s words made his heart thud.
“You know that I was. I made that totally clear on the phone, man.”
“You did.” Treat chuckled, but it was a wry sound, not a mocking one, he thought. “I ain’t sorry you did.”
No, it had to feel good. A real ego boost. Nothing like your ex just spilling his guts. On a drunk dial, no less. Jesus.
He just shrugged. “Uh-huh. Not my classiest moment, for sure.”
His cheeks were fucking burning.
“No, but enlightening.”
“Oh, fuck you, Treat. Don’t play with me.”
“Oh, honey, I am not playing. I am dead serious about his.” Treat pulled off the highway, heading for the restaurant.
He didn’t even know what that meant. It still felt like Treat was fucking with him, but he couldn’t say it.
Treat pulled off and parked, the restaurant booming. Of course it was. It was stock show season.
Still, there was no reason for them not to be together, right? Two cowboys, heading to supper and shit.
“Evening, folks,” the host said when they walked in.
“Evening. Reservation for Halloran.”
“For two?”
“Yessir.” Treat nodded, and Jake noticed all of a sudden that folks were all dressed up, and most all the tables were couples.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, gentlemen. Right this way.”
Oh, shit. Well, that was a fine hello.
A low chuckle told him Treat was right there with him.
“Oops. I didn’t know.”
“Why would you? I wasn’t here.”
Jake was going to kick Treat’s butt.
“Well, if you want to go somewhere else?—”
“Oh, hell no. We are going to brazen it out and eat steak and get the Valentine’s special.”
Oh, the fucker. “We are, are we?”
“Absolutely. I can’t wait.” Treat was altogether too tickled for his own good.
They sat down, and Jake was tempted to kick Treat under the table, just out of meanness. Not only was he stuck here because he’d been a fool, but now he had to put up with candles and weird little hearts on the table and shit. At the fucking Barn Door.
He had no idea these folks even knew about Valentine’s Day.
“They have a heart-shaped fillet. That’s totally what we’re getting.”
“We are not!” He shook his head. “We aren’t Valentines.”
“No? You sure about that, honey?”
“Stop it. Don’t mess with me. We never have been. We’ve just been?—”
“Only because I went along with you, Jake. You would go on and on about friends with benefits, and I reckoned you’d figure it out at some point.”
God knew he had, hadn’t he? He ached for Treat. He wanted those hard hands on his skin. He wanted Treat’s mouth, his cock, his laughter, and his stories.
He didn’t even hardly remember why they’d broken up—except that wasn’t true, was it? A year ago, two years ago, he’d been riding high, and he had been scared to settle down, to lose his edge.
And Treat was a rancher, not a rodeo man. He was all sunk into the earth.
He was a dipshit rodeo man. Nothing more, nothing less.
“So humor me with the steak.”
“You’re buying,” he snapped.
Treat’s mouth flattened into a thin line, but he just nodded. “I am at that.”
Okay, that was bitchy. He wasn’t a bitch. He was a bit of a psycho, but not a bitch. “Fuck. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, Jake. I know this is awkward. But I want us to have a good night, okay?”
He nodded because Treat was here. And Treat wanted to be here with him.
“Cool.” Treat gave him an arch look. “You can have your own steak, though.”
“Oh, thank you. I appreciate it. Asshat.”
“Don’t push me, Jake.” Treat’s chuckle was low and sexy as hell. “Or I’ll order you the cannoli and watch while you suck it.”
“That’s got a downside for me? Are you sure?” He was not going to get hard. Not.
“Hmmm. Maybe not. Though this is the Barn Door.”
“Yeah. Not appropriate. I know.” Treat made him want inappropriate things.
“Later.” That look was going to burn him alive. if he made it through supper without coming in his pants…
What the hell was he doing here? He knew that they were oil and water. He knew they just ended up fighting every time. He knew that he was living in his travel trailer while Treat was eating sixty-dollar steaks.
Okay, that helped kill the boner.
“What’s the matter?” Treat peered at him over the menu. “You’re scowling.”
“Am I?” Shit. He was so fucking confused. He didn’t know what the fuck was wrong with him.
“Yeah. I didn’t mean to piss you off with the steak.” Treat touched his leg under the table with one booted toe.
“You didn’t. I’m just…off-balance.” Treat should understand that. He was all about balance.
“Yeah. I mean, you did pour your heart out on the phone. That had to hurt your brain.” That wink made him snort.
“It hurt my pride, for sure. Damn.”
Treat sobered. “I’m sorry. I don’t want you to feel that way. It was—It was good to hear it.”
“Gentlemen, may I get you something to drink?” their server asked, smiling at them.
“Two Shiners, please, and waters.” Treat didn’t even hesitate, and Jake rolled his eyes but nodded.
“Bossy old man.”
“I just know what you like.”
“You do.” And he’d been existing on Bud Light thanks to how damn expensive a bock was.
“Then don’t stress it. I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”
He took a deep breath, then nodded. That was fair. For now.