Chapter 6
Parker had learned a couple of things in the last few hours—chainsaws jostled a man’s innards, trees against the snow were fucking fascinating to look at, this place was fucking cold but beautiful, and it was really easy to underestimate how much he could do.
Heath kept looking at him like he was some sort of strange and unusual creature.
He knew how to work.
He also knew how to party and how to sleep, and he was going to do that sleeping thing here in a bit after he warmed up and got still for even half a second, which was why he was kind of wandering.
Because one, he was fucking freezing, and two, it seemed rude to just fall asleep when there was a pizza in the oven.
“So where are you from? You said you were a Chargers fan so… L.A.?” Heath was watching him again; this time it seemed like with more curiosity.
“Oklahoma.” Parker shrugged. “I’ve been all over the country, really, traveling, but I was born and raised in Oklahoma.”
He’d never had the slightest desire to build himself a home there in Oklahoma. He liked the coasts and the mountains, but he just wasn’t into the prairies.
“I know exactly nothing about Oklahoma except there’s a song named after it.” Heath frowned. “Haven’t warmed up yet, huh?”
He shook his head and smiled. “It’s flat. That’s really all anyone needs to know.”
“Okay, then I now know Oh-klahoma.” Heath sang the last word as he pulled the pizza out of the oven. “I shouldn’t sing.”
Parker cracked up, but he didn’t think it was all that bad. He’d heard Mackey bellowing Christmas carols like a bull moose in rut.
“Listen, if you’re cold, I have a closet full of sweaters. Go grab one. Maybe one of the fleece ones? And I have wool socks, top right drawer.”
“You don’t mind? That would be amazing.” And he’d be…less panicky idiot, teeth chattering, shivering goofball.
At Heath’s nod, he jogged upstairs to grab the sweater and socks. His feet were blocks of ice.
He found a sweater and tugged it on. It was big, but soft and warm. Then he went to the bureau and tugged the drawers open.
On the right side were socks, on the left, was…oh dear.
He closed that right up.
Nope.
No no no.
No sex toys.
That was…a little more personal than he needed to be with Heath.
“Pizza is ready! Did you find everything okay?” Heath called up the stairs.
“Yep. Just putting on the socks.” Oh, Jesus fucking Christ. He snagged the socks and pulled them on.
“Good, good.”
His phone rang in his pocket, the tone familiar.
“Hey, Beck.”
“Hey, Parker. Just checking in on you. Everything going okay?”
“Fine. I used a chainsaw. How are the kids? How are y’all?” Poor Beck. Puking was the worst.
“A chainsaw? Heath is putting you to work, huh?”
“Papa no tickle!” He heard Sierra’s laughter over the phone.
“We’re fine. Uh…much better. What a day. Oh, boy.” Weird. Beck sounded like he’d swallowed a goose.
“At least the baby sounds like she feels better, right?” That was good. She was just little.
“The whole family could have the plague, and Sierra would be bouncing around as usual. Heath is treating you okay?”
“He’s sweet as all get out. Seriously. He’s been super kind about all this.” And he was hot, even if he was off-limits.
“I knew you’d like him. He’s a good guy. We’ve worked together a long time. He loves that house too.”
“He’s done a shitton of work. He should be proud.” Parker could smell the pizza. “Pizza’s ready. Do you need anything from me?”
“Pizza.” Beck chuckled softly. “No, no. Just checking in. We missed you today. See you soon.”
“You too. Tell Sky to wash, wash, wash.” He chuckled, because he knew Sky would get it. The last time the stomach flu had roared through the riders, that was Sky’s entire load of advice.
“Will do! He’s said that about two hundred times already. Bye, now.” Beckett was chuckling as the call disconnected.
“Parker? You good? Pizza is getting cold.” Heath called from downstairs.
“Great. Beck called to check on me, make sure I wasn’t driving you crazy.”
“Ha! Hardly. You saved my ass today, man. You were a demon with that chainsaw. I don’t know how I’d have done it all during daylight without you. Thank you so much.”
“You’re more than welcome. You’ll be able to use the wood in your fireplace, right?” Parker went to help in the kitchen. “What can I do?”
“You can grab us beers in the fridge. I have a dining table, but it’s got my balcony plans laid out on it, and I never eat there. I thought I’d just bring this out to the coffee table with a couple of plates; is that okay?” Heath cut the pizza with a wheel.
“Perfect. I assume you don’t have a pet that would steal it.” Walter would steal his just to aggravate him.
“No. I always think I should get one, but I don’t. I’m not sure I’m mature enough to care for anything but myself. I don’t even have house plants.”
“No?” He’d had his baby girl pup, but he’d been waiting to get a ton of plants until he settled down.
“Well, that may be more about the almost constant sawdust and construction noise. Plants like calm and quiet.”
“They don’t mind being on the road…” At least aloes didn’t.
“I’ll remember that next time I take a trip in an RV. Which is likely to be never since I don’t own one.” Heath served him two slices, then picked up one of the beers. “Do you like being on the road?”
“Sometimes, yeah.” Sometimes it was an adventure. Sometimes it was lonely as fuck.
“And other times?” Heath’s blue eyes seemed to look right into him. “Not as much?”
“Yeah. I mean, it’s a lonely time, when you get right down to it, you know? I spend four or five days a week with the radio and my phone for company.” And he was whining.
“I don’t think I could do it. I live alone, sure, but I see people at work every day, and I try to keep busy when I’m home. All that driving alone?” Heath shook his head. “I guess you have to really love riding.”
He guessed so. “Yeah. It’s a real thing.”
But what did a man do when he got done? When he was eighteen, it didn’t matter.
When he was twenty-one? Still didn’t matter.
At twenty-eight, it had started to matter some.
Now it was a thing.
“I’m going to have to find some video on you. I’ve watched a bunch of Skyler’s rides, and it’s wild to see him on the back of a bull.”
He chuckled softly. “I swear to God, I think Sky was possibly the best rider who’s ever lived. He rode like it was nothing at all.”
It had been magic to watch.
“He did make it look easy. He had a lot of confidence. He still does, actually, just not on the back of a bull anymore.”
“Right? Now he spends all that on wrangling babies and other cowboys.” Parker respected the hell out of Sky.
“Imagine if he and Beckett hadn’t worked their shit out? Man. What a loss that would have been. Beckett was not a happy person.” Heath took a big bite of a slice of pizza, half of it disappearing into his mouth.
“No. He hated me back then. I mean, hardcore hated me.” It had sucked for Sky. He didn’t really know Beck all that much, but it had hurt Sky.
“You’d never know that now. The way he talked about you when you needed a place to stay? He cares about you a lot now. I think he was in a bad place then. He spent a lot of time alone; I think he drank a little too often. You know, not happy type things.”
Parker nodded. He did know. “He thought I was sleeping with Sky. I wasn’t. I wouldn’t, and more important, Sky would never, but he thought so.”
“Oh, wow. Well he kept that to himself. I had no idea.” Heath reached for another slice. “Anyway, they’re ridiculously happy now. I’m a little jealous.” Heath winked at him and took a bite of the pizza.
“I’m a lot jealous.” He dug in, finding the pizza actually delicious—crispy and spicy with a good amount of cheese. He approved.
“I’ll get you over there tomorrow. I can hear Jake out there with his plow now so all I need to do is clear off the truck, and we’ll be good to go. I’ve got a garage in the plans, but that might not happen until next year. I’m only one me, you know?” Heath tossed him the remote.
“I get that. If I’m here in the spring, I’m happy to help.” He was seriously thinking about only riding a couple of events. He didn’t have but two sponsors left, and they were happy with him.
“If you’re here, I’ll take you up on that. But you’ll be off riding by then, I’m sure.” Heath set his plate down, rolling his left shoulder. “Man, I overdid it on my shoulder. It’s kind of sore.”
“Oh man. You want me to work on it?”
“I don’t…do you mind? I feel like I pinched something, you know? Like right…here. Ow.” Heath snorted.
“Sure. No problem at all.” He had been rubbing shoulders for years. It was a problem they all had, at one time or another.
“Cool.” Heath shifted on the couch so he could reach more easily, and sighed the second his hands landed on those tight shoulders.
He used his thumbs, digging in as soon as he found a bunch of screaming muscles, rolling the broad shoulders good and hard.
“Oh, fuck.” Heath’s head dropped forward. “That’s exactly the spot, oh my God.” Heath’s low moan was a little strained. “Damn.”
“Deep breaths. In and out. That’ll help a bunch.” He knew this.
“Okay…” Heath took a deep breath, ribs spreading and stretching Heath’s well-worn Green Mountain Boys T-shirt, then blew it out loudly. “Breathing. You have really strong hands.”
“You know it. I have to hold myself on a spinning bull.” It made for a bit of grip.
“How did you learn to ride?” Heath took another deep breath and let it out. He could feel those tight muscles starting to relax.
“I grew up around rodeo, did junior bull riding before I got my card.” He’d been born into it.
“That’s cool. My dad was a lawyer. Not quite the same thing, but I get growing up around something.” Heath groaned and stretched his neck. “If you ever wanted a second career, I would seriously consider masseur.”
“You have to go to school for that.” He wasn’t that smart.
“Could be worth it.” Heath chuckled. “Your hands are—” Heath stopped talking abruptly.
“You okay? Did I hurt you?”
“No, uh. Nope. I was going to say…well, I almost made things weird.” Heath chuckled a little nervously and got up off the couch. “Sorry. You want another beer?”
“Sure?” Had he done something wrong? He shifted away from Heath, giving the man some room.
“Cool.” Heath started cleaning up their plates. “How was the pizza?”
“Good? I mean, really yummy.” He stood, a little unnerved. “Did I do something wrong?”
“What? No. No, I’m just an idiot. That felt great. I feel way better.” Heath rolled his shoulders, then headed for the kitchen. “See? All good. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He nodded, totally uncentered and not sure what he was supposed to do.
Heath puttered around the kitchen, cleaning up, then came back with two more beers. “Here you go. You should just feel free to help yourself, you know?”
“Thank you, sir.” He nodded and smiled.
God, he wanted to go…home.
Even more than that, he wanted a home to go to.