Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
“So, fill me in, Tag.” Jason stared right at him with those sightless eyes as soon as Landon was out of earshot. “What did you do to fuck up with that little Cajun?”
Adam bit back a curse and took a nice long sip of beer before he said a word. He wasn’t gonna rise to the bait. “Same thing I always do, I reckon.”
“Man, you might try doing something different this time.”
He chuckled, hoping he didn’t sound bitter or nothin’. Coke and Dillon, Beau and Sam were all carefully not looking at him. Damn their cowardly souls. “That’s the plan, Jase. How you feelin’?”
“Fine. You know how it is. Tomorrow I’ll be limping around sore as a bitch, but I’m good tonight.”
“Just don’t try to drive Andy’s truck, huh?” He chuckled when everyone else cracked up.
“You got my word.” Jason sucked on his beer, leaned back in his chair, balancing easily.
Adam felt damned lucky to call these men friends. He was just sorry Landon had felt the need to go. Of course, he wasn’t one hundred percent sure he’d have done anything different in Landon’s boots. Hell, he might have got up and bashed someone in the nose.
That would be hot, actually, watching Landon beat the living fuck out of someone. The little Cajun had it in him to stand up. Adam had seen it now.
Adam grinned, which had Dillon raising a brow at him. Right, he was still right there. He winked at the clown, keeping it easy, and it was Beau who chuckled.
“You got wickedness in that brain of yours, Adam Taggart.”
“Me? Oh, maybe.” He was wicked a lot. Not as much as he’d like lately, of course.
Sammy snorted, spilling his beer as he did.
“Hey, you just quit that.” Adam grinned at Sam. “I named my dog after you.”
“’Cause you want me bad.”
Everyone started laughing at that one. It was good, when Sammy came back like his old self.
Really good, even if Adam hated to admit it.
Which come to think of it, he didn’t, maybe for the first time.
Sam loved Beau, better than he had, which was good, because Adam knew there was a Cajun he’d leave Beau for in a heartbeat.
Landon.
It hit him like a sledgehammer to the gut. His Cajun was right there, just on the other side of the big barn, and the son of a bitch loved him, too. He knew it. So, why was he sitting here sucking down warm beer and shooting the shit when he could be there? With Landon.
Kissing that hungry, wicked mouth, over and over. Touching the tight ass and hard dick.
His cock rose behind his zipper, and he tried hard not to let everyone see. Adam willed it to go down so he could stand up and not embarrass himself. No one needed to see his hard-on in full profile.
Pharris was dozing in his chair, hand wrapped loosely around the beer bottle, Dillweed grinning at him like the biggest dork on earth.
Adam winked, then got up and headed off, not bothering to say goodnight. They would get it or not, the rest of them. He found he really didn’t give a shit right now. He needed to see Landon, to talk to the man, even if that was it.
He needed Landon to meet his eyes again.
The amount of gumption it took to knock on the door of Landon’s room surprised him. He wiped his hands on his jeans, straightening his shoulders afterward. He felt like a kid who’d fucked up and whose momma had told him sorry wasn’t good enough.
The door opened, Landon standing there in a pair of jeans and nothing else, and damn, that wasn’t fair. Not at all.
“Cher.” Those dark eyes met his, the look like a physical blow. Landon wasn’t so much angry as hurt. Adam could read it all, right there.
“Hey.” He scuffed one boot heel on the dirt. “Can I come in?”
“It ain’t all fancy, but come on. There’s a chair.” The door was held open, the area simple—a bed, a chair, a dresser, a lamp, and a little dorm fridge. Clean and neat, it smelled like leather and citrus.
“It’s nice.” He’d never even seen this place. Huh. Adam stepped in, taking his hat off.
“Have a seat. You want a beer?”
“Uh, yeah. Thanks.” Adam sat, feeling like a dancing bear. Totally out of place.
Landon handed him a Bud Light, then sat on the bed, staring over at him. Adam sat for a moment, turning the bottle in his hands. Then he took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Landon.”
“Good. You oughta be.”
He cracked a smile finally. “I know. I’m damned ashamed of myself.”
“I don’t care about that, cher. I care that you’re ashamed of me.”
Adam nodded, licking his lips. “I get that. But I’m not. Too stupid to know what to say, maybe, but not ashamed. You’re a good man, Landon.”
“I am.” Landon nodded, not blinking away from him a bit. The set of Landon’s shoulders told him what it cost his lover to be so brave. “I ain’t book learned and I know it, but I ain’t stupid. I try to be wise.”
“Well, I can’t say it was wise to jump on that bull.”
“Jason was in trouble. I could help. He’s special, even I know that.”
His hand clenched around the beer bottle. “So are you.”
Landon just watched him. Close. Intense. “What you want, cher? Why you here?”
“I want you.” He held up his other hand to keep Landon from interrupting. “Physically, yes, but it’s more than that, okay?”
To his surprise, Landon nodded. “You done been made to want me, like I want you. I dreamed about you, my whole life.”
His first instinct would be to deny it. Magic was not part of Adam’s vocabulary. He was learning, though. Trying to understand, if not believe. Instead, he just nodded. “I know.”
“Good.” Landon took a deep draw off his beer.
“So.” He took another deep breath. “I can’t claim I’ll understand everything. I’m impatient and damned intolerant.”
“And grumpy.” Landon didn’t have to be so helpful, did he?
“But I want to be with you.” He pressed his lips together, this whole sharing thing starting to irk him. He hated to crawl.
“Okay.” Landon just stared him down.
“Damn it, Landon, you’re not helping a bit.” He grinned a little, setting his beer aside and reaching for Landon.
“I don’t have to. You be the one in the doghouse. You got to suck up but good.” Landon winked at him and Adam just loved that son of a bitch. It filled up his whole chest.
“Well, sucking I can do. Talking, you know that ain’t my strong suit.” He took a kiss, so relieved to be touching Landon again he could hardly stand it.
His.
He pulled the tight body close, needing to feel Landon against him. Landon might be talking a big game, but his body said yeah, now please. Landon wrapped around him, arms about his neck.
“Fuck, you taste good, cher.”
“So do you, honey. Love how good you are.”
Landon pinked, but he got him a smile, and that was what he wanted. He wanted more, too, right now. He lifted Landon right up close. The bed was small, but solid, and he hoped to hell it would hold them both. If not, well, he’d just have to get Beau and them a new one.
“You thinkin’ I’m gonna just give it up to you?” Landon laughed for him, that sound happy, wild and pure Cajun. One he hadn’t been sure he’d hear again.
“A man can hope, honey.” He chuckled right back, pressing that lean, brown body down, working at clothes.
“Uh-huh. I believe in hoping. I wasn’t sure…” Landon’s lips were on his throat.
“You do a lot by faith.”
“God walks with me, cher.” Landon stopped, stared right at him. “That ain’t gon’ change. I believe—in the good Lord and in you.”
“I’ll try to live up to it.” He shrugged. “There are a lot of things I can’t explain.”
“You don’ have to.” Landon touched his mouth, then took a long, hard kiss, stealing his breath. That was far better than talking, and Adam let the kiss go wild, thrusting his tongue into Landon’s mouth.
He could live with that, he guessed. Adam would just have to learn to have faith.
As Landon started stripping him down, he thought maybe that wouldn’t be all that hard.
“Hey, Nutbutter, can you hand me that bowl of eggs?” Beau was in the kitchen, making breakfast for an army, ham and bacon on the stove, grits in an old aluminum pot, a skillet waiting for eggs.
Landon had slipped out of bed early, leaving Adam sleeping, not sure what to say or do in the morning light.
“Yessir.” He handed them over and set to chopping onions and peppers for the man.
He’d like to say that him and Adam had torn each other up last night, but they hadn’t. It’d been slow, lazy, like they were both scared to fuck up again, which he reckoned they was. Deep down it did Landon good to see Adam so careful, so worried. Meant Adam gave a shit.
He’d needed the son of a bitch to do just that.
He knew the rest of the Taggart boys were showing today and he knew that, no matter what anyone said, blood was thick and the other two didn’t care for him none.
He figured if last night was the last time, he’d remember every second of it, from kisses to coming.
“Landon?”
He blinked, then glanced over at Mr. Beau, who was staring, waiting, flipper in hand.
“Yessir?” He’d been all caught up in the maze of his brain.
“Hand me those veggies?”
“You got it.” He handed over the chopped up goodness. “What else you need?”
“Squeeze some of them grapefruits. Jason brought them from Texas.”
“Them pink one’s the best.” There was a twenty-pound bag and he opened it and started squeezing, the glass juicer just like his Maw-Maw’s, who he missed sore these days.
“They are. We’ll have juice and you’ll have muscles.”
Landon flexed playfully, careful to keep the juice out of his tore up hand.
Beau chuckled. “Man, are you sore? I’m about to fall over.”
“Lord, yes. There ain’t an inch of me ain’t noticing that I played bull tag yesterday.”
“I hear you.” The grin on Beau’s face widened. “I bet Jay-Jay is stiff as a board.”
“I bet his shoulder’s screaming Come to Jesus.”
“You know it.” They got breakfast on the table just about the time the other men trickled into the kitchen, sniffing and acting hopeful. Everyone was a little stiff and bruised, too.
“Nutbutter, go out to the kennels and fetch Sammy for me?”