Chapter Ten
Rue
Kendrick had offered to drop them at the ranch, but Rue had refused, feeling it was a more obvious ‘walk of shame’ after the ease with which he let himself get persuaded to stay last night and this morning!
It spelled trouble in so many ways, he couldn’t fathom where to unpick this fucking disaster.
His phone buzzed repeatedly as he stood at the curbside waiting for whoever showed up to collect them from outside the bar. Ethan was pissed at them, and Rue got why. He was in denial; he could admit it. Last night—this morning—he’d lost his mind. Allowed lust and sensual paradise to…
What?
“Are we going to talk about this?” Monty asked quietly.
Talk about how spending his time in Kendrick’s bed with Monty was a much better idea than team building with his brothers?
We were team building. The snark from his animal was unwelcome when he didn’t know how to answer Monty. More talking would bring questions. Because in Kendrick’s home, talking had not been on the agenda.
Like you wanted that!
He visibly cringed at the truth when he was damn sure it should have been top of the list before he’d stuck his…
“Are you seriously gonna pretend like I don’t exist?”
The snapped-out comment reluctantly brought his gaze to the man seething next to him. Sexily mussed up, hair all over the place, skin flushed, eyes sparking with temper, Rue wanted him so bad he fucking ached.
“How can I pretend you don’t exist when… when…”
Fuck, he couldn’t say it.
“When what? You had your cock in some interesting places, directed by another man?” Dark brows rose as he tilted his head.
“That?” he hissed, visibly upset with how he clenched and unclenched the hands hanging at his sides like he was resisting thumping Rue.
“I’m not going back to playing pretend, I’m not.
” He stamped his booted foot as a truck slid to a halt in front of them.
The hum of an electric window lowering brought Rue’s stormy gaze from Monty to Ethan’s unamused stare. “Get in.”
Monty climbed in the back without saying a word, looking in the opposite direction as Rue climbed in the cab's front. Using the seatbelt as a reason not to look at Ethan, he noticed just how unsteady his hands were.
They took off and a heavy silence fell in the cab. One that Rue was grateful for when his mind was a fucking mess.
Ethan navigated his way through town, and only after they left the outskirts, heading up the hill towards the ranch, did he speak. “Care to explain why you two couldn’t get your asses back to the ranch last night?”
“That is none of your business,” Rue muttered angrily, in no mood to answer questions or explain his actions. He was certain seven other men at the ranch would be equally interested. He hadn’t bothered to open their group chat and discover exactly what he was going to have to face.
It could all wait fifteen more fucking minutes until he’d showered and washed off Monty and Kendrick’s scents so he could get his thoughts out of the gutter.
“If you read the damn paperwork I sent y’all, then you’ll find it is. You’re my responsibility when staying on the ranch.”
“We weren’t on the fucking ranch,” he spat back.
The truck came to a shuddering halt, and Rue glared as the seatbelt dug into his chest. “What the fuck, man,” he exclaimed, glancing over his shoulder to check on Monty, who yelped.
“I’ve had enough of the Starling brothers' attitude, so fucking can it. If you wanna sleep elsewhere, I don’t give a flying fuck.
But when you don’t rock up at the designated time you’re supposed to, and I must come collect your asses when I’ve got a truckload of other shit I gotta be getting on with, you make it my fucking business.
Stick to the damn rules of the ranch experience,”—Ethan jabbed a thumb between them—“then you and I won’t have a fucking issue. Got it?”
Rue gave a stilted nod and clamped his lips together to keep in the need to release the anger—that really had fuck all to do with Ethan and was more at himself for the situation he’d gotten himself into.
Ethan dropped them by the bunkhouse with a warning, “Get your acts together! Now grab something to eat, it’s gonna be a busy day.”
Rue was too wound up to consider eating when Monty’s eyes glistened with what looked suspiciously like tears as he remained tight-lipped and strode off in the direction of the cabins before Rue could consider how to broach whatever this was between them.
Sex.
He groaned aloud, taking out his cell phone to check what kind of shit his brothers had been talking because of his absence. His eyes skimmed the thread with a sinking feeling when he saw Dad’s comment.
Why hadn’t he left last night to avoid this shit? The feel of Monty’s warm body pressed to his and Kendrick’s chest against his back, cuddling him. A sap. He turned into a sap from getting cuddled.
His brothers would have a field day with that. They would never leave him be. They were all up in each other's business; it had always been that way. In the main, Rue had no issue with it, except now he was going to be the target.
“Fucking great!”
Eyes drawn to Dad’s comments, Rue blew out a frustrated breath, reading the annoyance between the lines.
A part of him had known his actions would bring trouble, and yet he’d ignored it, for what? Sex? A chance to see if he was right about the dynamic between him and Monty becoming epic with a third?
He deflated faster than he could blink at how real the fucking issue was, when the night had far surpassed any expectation he had.
He trudged over the uneven ground. Skirting away from the paddocks and stables, where everyone would be at this time of day, he admitted to himself that he was in trouble.
He’d fucked Monty after he’d sworn never to do that again, and it had blown his mind. The dynamic changed with what Kendrick offered them.
What was wrong with him? Why didn’t he see this last night? It was a mistake to start something that was never gonna work in the ‘real world’?
Monty now knew… everything about his sexual cravings.
In the cold light of day, without Kendrick’s damn presence clouding his decisions, he acknowledged the fucking enormous error in judgement.
The offer of having something that had not felt tangible before Kendrick placed all his desires on a silver platter.
One that was impossible to resist. Especially when it contained Monty wrapped in a fucking bow of Rue’s need.
Why is this so wrong?
He snorted at his animal side. Kendrick was worse than the lure of a muddy wallow Rue could sink into and let the gooey, cool mud slide over his hide in that delicious way that emptied his mind.
It is fucking disastrous how fast I fell in without looking for crocodiles. Those fuckers will chomp away and take me down for a death roll. Don’t you get it!
His life was uncomplicated. He needed it to be like that.
Why?
You know why.
The past is gone. Nothing changes what—
Don’t say it. The edge of desperation cut at his frayed nerves.
He was in no mood to have them played with right now.
Anytime, but particularly when it brought back his inability to change what had happened before Lane rescued him.
Being vulnerable was not a state Rue thrived in—it wasn’t.
After all, it was why he’d gone to Monty’s that night and regretted it.
It needs to be said when for the first time in months—years—you allowed yourself to drop those damn shields you use. They are exhausting to you and me.
“Oh lookie here, you finally deem to grace us with your presence now all the hard labor is done.” Booker’s snarling gave him the diversion Rue needed and a target for his anger as he swung to face his brother, who was charging across the dirt path leading to the cabins.
Kari was chasing after him, looking concerned, his attention swinging between the two men. “No fucking way are you two taking potshots at each other.”
“You sure ‘bout that?” Rue muttered through clenched teeth, shoving his cell into his jeans pocket to free up both hands.
“Yes!” Kari snapped, getting between them, shoving at Rue’s chest while looking at Booker.
“Booker, leave it be. You had enough time away from work when things between you and Frey were all over the place, so you ain’t got no room to criticize.
” Kari turned to Rue with none of the anger he aimed at Booker, making Rue’s cheeks heat with embarrassment for no apparent reason.
Kari’s nose twitched. “I’d suggest you go shower and figure out why Monty appears a little upset. I saw him minutes ago heading to your cabin.”
The groan was all in his head. He cringed at how he was going to need to talk, address the bear in the room—Kendrick.
“Right!” He stomped off in the cabin's direction, not looking at Booker when he wanted a target. Kari wouldn’t stop him if he really wanted to get into it with Booker. The two of them had come to loggerheads a few times when Rue had first moved in with Lane and Derick.
Booker had taken the brunt of his angst because, out of all the brothers, Booker was the only one strong enough to keep him in check.
They’d muddled through in the beginning and found an accord that worked for them.
Now, Rue loved his brothers—all of them.
And that meant he’d need to add Booker to the list of apologizing he was going to have to do today.
First, he was going to need to call Dad.
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his phone and dialed home, stopping at one of the paddock fences where no one was close enough to hear.
“Are you okay?” Dad asked before Rue could utter a word.
Rue shut his eyes, feeling them ache with the desire to cry at the concern. The love that came unconditionally and had from the beginning.
Did he deserve it?
“Rue?”
His eyes flickered open to glance about. “I’m not sure,” he answered truthfully. Dad and Popi were possibly the only two people on the planet he was completely honest with.
“Is this to do with Monty?”
He released a bitter laugh at being so damn fucking obvious. “Sort of.” In a moment of weakness, and several whiskeys, he’d confessed about what happened after the awfulness in Drinkwater and his visit to Monty’s apartment when he’d gotten home.
“Son.”
The one word held a weight that left Rue struggling to hold himself together. How had one night turned him into a basket case?
“Dad… I’m… fuck!” Rue yanked on his hair and kicked at a rock as he looked forward, seeing none of the beautiful scenery. Just Kendrick and Monty in bed together. “It’s complicated.”
“Can it be uncomplicated?”
His laughter came out twisted and pained. “I don’t see how when I can’t even explain why I’m feeling… feeling torn up inside from one night with…” he couldn’t say it, despite knowing Dad wouldn’t judge his choices. No, he was doing that all by himself.
In three days he’d head home—back to normality. The thought left him cold at his core.
“It’s okay, Rue. We’ll figure this out together, like we always have.”
The assurance made it worse somehow, when it would make no difference.
What he’d experienced last night was like licking the icing off a delicious cake that had many layers left beneath for him to taste, only to have to throw it away because it was too big to handle.
The hint at what it could be like to have Monty in his life, what Kendrick could bring to them if they had time to explore what was between them, gave a bridge to a relationship with Monty he’d not been seeking, yet he’d found anyway.
Life was cruel.
His life, his commitment to his family, to business—it’s why he’d left the army. Why he had come home when Dad and Popi needed him—when his brothers needed him. They came first, and that meant what was in Bayfield was only fleeting. It had to be.
“Not this time, Dad.”