Chapter 8
Bodie shook hands, smiled, rode his bull for an eighty-two, which gave him second place in Oklahoma.
Then he headed out the back of the arena.
He was trying to catch a cold, he thought. He had a pounding headache, and he felt a little like he’d been punched in the face.
“Hey, Bodie. Nice ride, nice finish. So, I arranged for us to—” Cole frowned. “Are you okay? You look like you’re dragging.”
“I’m okay.” Just dying a little bit. “A little sinus-y, you know? Arranged for what?”
“Oh, Blue Button. They signed their contract, and then they asked if you’d come by and sign for a bit on your way out. But if you don’t feel up to it…”
“No. No, that’s cool.” He could smile and nod and sign photos. “No problem.”
“Yeah? Okay. It won’t be long, things are winding down, but folks like to shop as they leave the event.” Cole led the way. “The reps are Carla and Will. Carla is the one who asked.” Cole pointed out the tent of dressy ranch-style clothing. “Right there. I’ll take your bag. She’s waving.”
“Bodie! I’m so glad you could join us!”
Cole took the bag right off his shoulder and handed him a box of photos and a Sharpie.
“Absolutely, ma’am. It’s my pleasure. Where would you like me to sit?” He so could do this. Half an hour or so. No problem.
“Oh, right here. It’s great to have you on board. We’re going to have so much fun.” There was already a line forming as she sat him at one end of a six-foot display table that had belts and jewelry on it.
“Wow. Look at all this. Gorgeous.” He didn’t really go for sparkly shit, but little old ladies and buckle bunnies did.
“Right? The men’s section is on the other side. You’ll have to have a look before you leave.” Carla gave a wave. “Hey, y’all! Look who we have here!”
He was swamped in seconds.
Cole had hung back a bit, but he was pretty sure he’d heard the man snort.
He nodded and signed and leaned in for pictures and smiled.
A lot.
Until he ran out of pictures. And then he signed programs and T-shirts and the inside of one girl’s arm.
No boobies today, though, praise the Lord.
“Carla, I think we’re at time,” Cole said gently after he’d been there close to an hour.
“Yes, of course. Bodie, thank you so much.” Will handled the rest of the crowd easily. “We’ll see you in Dallas. Oh. Here.” Carla handed him a soft blue denim button-down shirt. “I think that’s about your size. Enjoy it.”
“Oh, that’s so kind. Are you sure?” It was just his style, if he was honest, and he would wear the hell out of it.
“Absolutely. Thank you for stopping in on short notice. You didn’t have to.”
He shook her hand again. “It was my pleasure.”
He wanted a bowl of chicken soup, dammit.
“Carla, Will. I’ll be in touch.” Cole gave them a nod and got a wave in return, then fell in alongside him. “I know you must be tired after the weekend, but that was great. Thank you.”
“Of course. It’s the job. I’m glad to do it.” He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to ease the tension.
“What’s up? Are you sore from the ride?” Cole followed him to his truck.
“Huh? No. No, sinuses. No big.” He might just take a nap right here in the truck.
“What’s your plan? Are you in town for the night or headed right to Dallas?” Cole dropped his bag on the seat of the passenger side.
“I’m supposed to be heading out.” It was a three-hour drive. He’d be there by eight, give or take.
“Hm. Well, I’ve got a flight back to Boulder in the morning, so I’m around if you change your mind. You might want to sleep this off. You don’t look great.”
“I’m just…” He sighed softly and admitted. “I’ve got a bitch of a headache.”
“Look at me, please.” Cole actually reached up and took his chin with long fingers, searching his eyes. “Hm.”
“What are you doing?” He scowled, his eyebrows lowering.
“Making sure you don’t have a concussion.” Cole let him go with a snort. “And you don’t. You’re hot though.”
“Thanks,” he teased. “I do have that going for me.”
Cole blushed, which was cute as hell. “I meant I think you have a fever, idiot. Did you check out already? Why don’t you come have a nap in my room, and you can leave when you think you’re ready.”
“Do you mind? I can sleep in my truck…”
“Because that’s a great look.”
“Hush!” He had a look?
“Are you okay to drive? You want me to? I got a ride over here, I was going ask for one back with you anyway.” Cole held out his hand for the keys. “Not that I’ve ever driven an orange monster before.”
He swallowed hard, then handed the keys over. “All right. She drives like a dream.”
“Let’s go.” Cole held the door for him and waited for him to get in, then jogged around to the driver’s side. “Is it weird being a passenger in your own truck?”
“Mmhmm. Crazy.” But he didn’t mind too hard. He was too damn tired to mind.
He closed his eyes for a second, and when he opened them again, Cole was just pulling into the hotel parking lot. He grinned a little when Cole chose to park it a few spots away from everything else.
“Nervous?”
“Well, I wouldn’t want to scratch your burnt orange—”
“Her name is Bevo.”
“Bevo?” Cole raised an eyebrow. “I definitely don’t want to scratch Bevo.” Cole shut the truck off and handed him back his keys.
“Bevo. I know she’s not a bull, but she’s totally a longhorn.”
“She’s the right color for sure.” Cole looked a little awkward sliding out of the truck, but he managed.
“Thanks for the ride and the offer of a nap. I appreciate it so much.” He was feeling like he’d been beaten.
“You’re starting to look like you’re going to fall over. Come on.” He led the way to the elevators, and they got right on it, headed up to a high floor. “Tylenol or Advil?”
“Either works. Prob’ly Tylenol, but I’ll take whatever there is.”
Cole opened the hotel room door and let him in. “You get comfy; I’ll get the Tylenol. Are you hungry?” Cole stepped into the bathroom.
“Only if there’s chicken soup.” He wanted a hot bowl of chicken soup.
“I’ll see what I can do.” Cole came back with Tylenol and a bottle of water. “Here. You uh—you want sweats or something?”
“I got boxer briefs on. Is that too weird?” He wasn’t being all ‘look at my package’.
“Oh. Nope. No, that’s fine. All good.” Cole picked up the TV remote. “Make yourself at home.”
“Thanks.” He stripped down to his boxer briefs and curled up on the bed, careful not to make too much of a mess. “I’ll be out of your hair soon. Promise to God.”
“I’m not going anywhere until tomorrow, no rush. Let me get you a blanket.” Cole opened the closet and pulled down an extra banket.
“Thanks.” So warm, and he was so goddamn cold.
Cole frowned and placed a hand on his forehead, and if he wasn’t feverish, he’d have sworn Cole ran fingers through his hair. “You’re pale as a ghost. I’m going to find you that soup. Get some sleep.”
“Mmhmm. Just a little while.” That was all she wrote. He was out. He’d apologize after.
If this was a test, Cole was failing.
Not as a caretaker though. He’d searched high and low on Grubhub until he found a solid chicken soup and bought two big containers of it along with some bread and some more bottled water.
No, the failure was in not ogling his client.
Could stroking someone’s hair be considered assault?
He rolled his eyes at himself and checked on Bodie again. That was definitely a fever, but it was better and the cowboy had a little color in his cheeks. Sleep and Tylenol—the miracle cure.
He loved that Bodie had worked—ridden and smiled and signed and charmed. The man was focused as hell. And now that he had downtime, whatever had been brewing in him all day must have finally decided it was time.
Bodie had been out for hours, though. Long enough that Cole had gotten bored with the puzzles on his phone and watched a whole movie. Sooner or later, he was going to have to climb into the other side of that king bed and get some sleep himself.
Bodie sat up, scrabbling at the side of the bed for his bottle of water and draining it.
The sudden movement made him jump. “Hey. Look who’s up. You okay? I have more water. I also found your soup.”
“Oh? Really?” Bodie sounded like hell. “That sounds like heaven. I got to get on the road here soon.”
“What’s the rush?” He stuck a container of soup in the microwave. “You have a hot date in Dallas before the show?”
“No… Actually, I got nothing in Dallas.” Bodie blinked at him. “I hate leaving my truck here. UT colors, you know?”
“Really? You’re that worried about your truck?” That was pretty hardcore. He pulled the soup out and found one of the little plastic soup spoons they delivered with it. He set it on the nightstand and tucked a bunch of pillows behind Bodie’s back.
“A little. Here, I’m not worried. It’s a good hotel.” Bodie took the soup and drank deep. “Oh, that’s good. Thank you.”
“Good. Eat up, and then back to bed with you.”
He did realize that encouraging Bodie to stay meant they were going to have to share that bed. Maybe he should pump the guy full of soup and Tylenol and hope he could make the three-hour drive.
Except that wasn’t right. And this was his problem, not Bodie’s. He’d deal.
“Will—can I spend the night? I’ll pay for half the room. I’m not feeling like the drive would be safe.”
“I agree. I think you should stay. And I’m not charging you for a room I was using anyway, Bodie, but thank you.” He made a mental note to make sure he got a room with a roll-out couch from now on.
Just in case.
“Don’t worry. I won’t be ugly to you. I’ve shared beds lots and never been untoward.”
Untoward?
Seriously?
“Ugly? Bodie, you don’t have an ugly bone in your body.
And for the record, I’m more worried about myself.
I don’t have the same track record you do when it comes to sharing a bed with a good-looking man.
” No, pretty much every time he’d been in bed with another man, impolite had definitely been expected.
“Well, it ain’t often I find myself in a bed with another gay guy who ain’t taken. I know lots of taken ones.”
“I haven’t been taken in a damn long time.” Jesus fucking Christ. He needed a fucking chaperone. “I don’t mean—I mean—you know what I mean.” He shot Bodie a look. “Shut up and eat your soup.”
“Eating. Come to bed. We can watch stupid TV and laugh.”
“Let me get my PJs.” He dug through his suitcase. He was going to put on layers. Boxers, sweats, three shirts. A padlock.
“So I have a thing for pajama bottoms. I have a ton. I like them because they’re soft on the butt.”
“You’re having fun with this, aren’t you?” He grinned at Bodie because he really did enjoy a little banter. “You’re going to love these; they are red plaid. Very lumbersexual.”
“Oh, I like it. Mine are in my truck. They’re sock monkeys.”
It would be weird not to change now, so he shimmied out of his jeans and pulled on his PJs in record time, then finished undressing and found a T-shirt. It read “IDGAF”, which wasn’t strictly true at the moment.
Bodie chuckled softly. “I like it. It suits you.”
Cole tossed over the remote and climbed under the covers, feeling like a teenager in his mom’s house. One on top, one under. She’d known it wouldn’t work, but at least she had deniability.
“I promise I’ll be good, no matter how pretty you are.” Bodie started scrolling. “How do you feel about the Food Network?”
“I am a big fan of food.” Should he promise the same? Did Bodie want him to? Did he want to? It seemed like promises were a bad idea.
“Me too. It’s easy, huh? Have you ever watched MKR? It’s Australian.”
“No, I’ve never heard of it.” He fluffed his pillows and hunkered down, still trying to get his head around this sleepover. Poor Bodie looked like death and needed rest, so he was glad to share, but it was also so strange.
“It’s fun. Neat different foods.” Bodie yawned and put the soup aside. “It makes me laugh.”
“Sounds like fun. Like more than just cooking. I like shows like that, the ones that are more than just whatever they’re supposed to be.”
“Mmhmm. Season one and two are mostly cooking, but then it becomes a personality thing. It’s wild.”
“You should go to sleep. You want to get over this before the Dallas show.” He reached up and turned the light off.
“Yeah. Thank you for the bed. I appreciate it, really.” Bodie turned and sighed softly.
“I know. Goodnight, cowboy.”
He had a morning flight to Boulder, but he wasn’t going to bother Bodie with that now.
He thought the guy would need to sleep in.
Maybe he’d skip the flight, hitch a ride to Dallas with Bodie and head home after Dallas instead.
He took his job on the road, so it wasn’t like he couldn’t work anywhere.
“Night, Cole. Sleep…” Bodie’s voice trailed off, the cowboy fading off.
That was adorable and it made him smile. “Sleep well,” he whispered and closed his eyes.