Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
El Paso wasn’t his jam, really. But Flagstaff? Fuck, it was beautiful.
Evan had eaten his weight in corn dogs and fry bread, and he’d watched Sam work. He could just lick the man. He was so fucking gorgeous.
This was the last day of the Flagstaff event, and he knew today was when all the heavy-hitter lineup would be there. He’d learned his lesson about rodeo pretty well so far. All the guys and the money would show up today to try to link that last bit to get the all-around titles and stuff.
It felt kind of weird to be sitting in the stands by himself because rodeo was clearly a family event where everybody showed up and hung out together, but that was okay. Everyone was willing to take out their day sheets and teach the newbie what was what.
Today, he had a little blue-haired grandma next to him in the bench seat who was telling him all about how he’d make a damn fine bulldogger.
“So, are you moving here, honey?” She poked him in the leg.
“Pardon?” I had a feeling he’d missed something important.
“A big fine fellow like you. It’d be nice if you moved here. Or are you visiting family, or…”
“Oh, no, I’m just traveling through with one of the rodeo staff.” Is that what he was supposed to call Sam? He wasn’t even sure. But he figured it was the safest thing to say.
She sniffed. “Too bad. I’ve got a granddaughter who would be great for you.”
“I’m sure she’s great. I’m really not in the market.” He glanced down at the dirt where Sam was putting out barrels from the back of a truck for the barrel racing.
“These guys here? They’re the bull fighters. They do cowboy protection.”
He knew full well, of course, but he was also curious to see what she would say.
“See the pretty dark one? The one putting out the barrels? He’s Sam Marrón. The other one, he’s local, his name is Kacey Wilson.” She leaned close and whispered, “He’s married to a man. They have babies. Super nice guy.”
He didn’t quite know what to say because he’d met both husband and babies. “That’s cool. I like to hear about nice guys.”
“Yes.” She smiled at him and relaxed. “I never quite know how to tell if someone’s decent. Here, we’re pretty easy-going, but sometimes people aren’t.” She rolled her eyes. “You can’t fix stupid.”
“No, you’re right. You can’t.”
She grinned at him. “Where are you from again? Up east?”
He’d only told her twice already. “Boston.”
“So you’re a long way from home. What do you think?”
“It’s beautiful. I’m always thirsty.” Although he had to admit, he could get used to not having a hit of humidity, that was for sure.
“Yes. It takes a bit for your body to get used to, that’s for sure.” She patted his arm, shook her head.
He chatted with her about where she was from originally, which was some place over next to the Acoma Pueblo. And how she liked to go to Gallup and have steaks and the baked potato bar at the Sizzler.
She made him laugh, and it was great to sit next to her while he watched Sam work.
As soon as the bull riding was over, though, he stood and stretched, ready to head down and meet Sam.
She patted his arm as she slipped past him to go out of the row of seats. “You be careful going home, sweetie,” she said.
“I’ll be careful, I promise. Although I’ll be in a fifth wheel tonight at the KOA, I think.”
“Oh, well that’s nice; you don’t have far to go.” She winked at him and off she went, her backpack clutched over her shoulder. It had been full of snacks and drinks.
He shook his head before wandering down toward where all the trailers and trucks were parked. They weren’t going to get out of here anytime soon, so he figured he might as well take it slow.
Sam was across the arena, moving a touch gingerly, and he didn’t remember seeing him get hurt, but something had happened, and—
His phone rang, and he grabbed it. It was Huey, the intern who worked with his agency on the weekends, directing emergency calls where they needed to go.
“Hey, man, what’s up?”
“Evan, we have a bit of a problem. Apparently, Mattie Blackwood was picked up on a DWI in Portland, and the agency wants you out there tonight dealing with the press.”
Oh motherfucker. He hated this shit. “Oregon or Maine?”
“Maine.”
“At least that’s a little bit easier.” He rubbed his forehead, pinching the bridge of his nose. “All right, all right, get me tickets out of Phoenix as soon as you can, and I’ll get out there.”
“All right, I’m on it, I’ll call you right back.”
Damn it, damn it, damn it. He texted his assistant, Tracy.
I’m gonna need a lawyer for a case up in Maine. I also need someone there sooner than I can get there to tell him to keep his fucking mouth shut. It can be the same person, but I need you to make it happen
already on it. U coming?
OMW
Now he had to explain to Sam why he was bailing. Damn it. He was having a fucking ball.
Sam came up and offered him a smile. “What’s wrong? You look stressed.”
“I have an emergency—not personal. Work—but I’m going to have to head out as soon as they can get me a flight out of Phoenix, probably tonight.”
“Well shit.” Sam shifted his duffel bag on his shoulder and shook his head. “All right. Well, let’s go get the truck, and I’ll drive you out.”
He frowned at Sam. “But you just got off work.”
“Yeah, well, if I drive up there, drop you off, and come back home, I’ll be home by two give or take. Then I’ll grab some sleep and be at work tomorrow.” Just like it was that easy. No sweat.
“I can’t ask you to do that, man.”
They headed toward the truck.
“You didn’t. I offered. It’ll give us another two hours together. I just need to change and possibly get a hamburger and a milkshake.” Sam winked at him. “I need the protein and the calories.”
“I will probably never eat again. I had a lot of fry bread, but we can totally get you a hamburger, and I could get a drink.” He had to smile at Sam because that easy grin and the shrug told him that everything was going to be fine, and he appreciated a man who could roll with it.
He also liked the idea that Sam wanted to spend whatever time with him he could.
“Thanks, babe. It’ll be great to have you with me. ”
“I don’t mind. I can be a go-baby.”
“You can be a lot of things, and I like pretty much every one of them.” Evan let his hand slide over Sam’s ass when they got to the truck.
Sam offered him a sweet little ‘peep’. “Yeah, I try. Is everything okay? I mean, like with your situation. It’s not Max, right?”
“Oh god, no. No, I just have a stupid client who got into another stupid problem because he’s stupid as fuck.
I’m going to drop him if he doesn’t stop this nonsense.
I don’t have to put up with this.” Evan rolled his eyes.
“No, as far as I know, Max is happily ensconced in his home, staying out of trouble and practicing his shooting.”
“Staying out of trouble is good. I’m a fan of that. At least you got all your stuff here.”
“If it’s not, it’s no big. I left a few things at your house, but they can just stay there. It’s not like we’re never going to see each other again.” At least that was his intent.
“Screw that. There are a few things we haven’t tried together yet, and then we’d have to start over again at the beginning to make sure we did it right.”
He nodded to Sam. “Not only that, but you know, practice makes perfect. Just think about how the good stuff is going to be like the third or fourth time we try.”
“Or what we can add to the repertoire every time. Take our time, get things right.” Sam’s grin widened with almost every word.
“You know it. I’m down. We’re wicked good at this shit.” Evan hated that their time together was getting cut short, though. Especially because of a fucking DUI. “Sucks though, because now I have to go to Maine in black fly season.”
“That don’t sound pleasant.” Sam patted his leg as he got the truck started.
“It’s not. Don’t get me wrong. Maine can be really nice, but not when you’re going up to make sure somebody doesn’t end up hurting somebody or doing something even stupider.”
Sam got them moving toward the trailer so he could pack up and Sam could change.
Sam glanced at him sideways as he got into the line to pull out. “So you’re not one of those agents who tries to sweep shit under the rug, right? If your guy did something really wrong.”
“Nah, if he did something really wrong, he can go to jail for it. But this is his first DUI, so they won’t put him in jail or even take his license away for that.
My job is to spin the PR, though, and to go between with him and the team he’s on and his brand affiliates, all that stuff.
And also to knock his head around and convince him that when I set up PR for him that says he’s cleaning up his act, that he actually does. ”
Evan knew sometimes the league or a team or whatever would make a cover-up for somebody, but that wasn’t his style, and his people knew he wasn’t going to do that.
“Yeah, that doesn’t sound like any fun. That’s way more like shit on the big show, not the little rodeos like what I do.”
Evan glanced over. “It’s a little more standardized, I guess?”
Sam shrugged. “Mainly it’s just more money.
Anytime you got something that makes a lot of money, there’s all sorts of bullshit that people earn money on.
Most of these guys who ride on rodeos in the circuit, what are they going to have an agent for?
They’re barely breaking even. So, what’s somebody like me need an agent for? ”
Evan had a couple of ideas. “Hell, negotiating sponsorships and things?”
“I guess, but I got two big ones. There are four little ones. It’s not like anybody wants me to do a TV commercial or something. I’m no Rob Smets, that’s for sure.”
Evan had to ponder that name for a minute, but he knew Sam had told him about the major bull fighters who had been around the last thirty years or so, and he thought Rob Smets was the biggest. Maybe he was the guy who had designed the bull fighter uniforms for the big league. He was pretty certain.
“You still do good work, and people love you. There’s a lot that can be capitalized on there. Anytime you want to sign with a sports agent, just let me know.” He winked, but he was serious because he knew hockey, but it wasn’t like he didn’t know a bunch of other folks who would take Sam on.
Sam made a little “pshaw” sort of noise and laughed. “Nah, that’s all right, guapo. Hey, there’s a Burger King. I’m gonna pull in and get something. Do you want an iced tea or a Diet Coke?”
“I’ll take a Diet Coke, if you don’t mind.” Iced tea was good, but it wouldn’t keep him awake like the Diet Coke would. And he needed to make sure he got to the airport, got through security, did all the things, and got on his flight.
“Anything to eat?”
“Oh my God, no.” He patted his belly. “I had corn dogs, fried bread, and those spiral-cut potato things.”
“Good lord, guapo, you really went to town.”
“Yeah, I’m going to regret it.”
“All right. I’ll grab the food, then head to the trailer park for your bags.” Sam winked at him. “The things I do for you, ordering food all gross and sweaty.”
“It’s not the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen,” he admitted.
“Shit, it’s not the weirdest thing I’ve ever done, but a clown has to have standards.” Sam winked. “Let’s get this done.”
Before long they were back at the trailer park, Sam’s hamburger gone, both of them with the drinks still in the drink holder. Evan went in to get his bag, and he swept the bedroom for his charger and laptop and everything just to make sure he had stuff with him.
“Hey, I’m ready when you are. They have a flight for me.”
Nodding, Sam took him back out to the truck after locking up the trailer.
They settled in their seats, and he smiled at Sam. “I really do appreciate this.”
“Like I said, I want to be able to spend time with you, so don’t be too grateful. It’s partly selfish.”
“Yeah, I’m going to be selfish and say you need to tell me when I can come see you again.” Evan wanted that right out there, up front, at the beginning. He didn’t want Sam to dump him at the airport and then think they were never going to be together again and do this.
“Well, we’re coming for Thanksgiving, but that’s an awful long time away.”
“It is, and I totally mean to FaceTime you and stuff, but I want to see you again before that.”
“We’ll work on it. We can talk about it on the way down. Seriously.”
And they did. So by the time Sam kissed him at the airport before he got out of the truck, they had a tentative plan. Whenever Evan was in driving distance of Santa Fe and had enough hours to drive down, he would stop and see Sam.
“Be safe, guapo. You call me when you get there.”
“You do the same thing. Text me when you get back, okay? So, I know you’re asleep in your trailer.” He shoved his phone in his pocket, touched Sam’s cheek, then kissed him one more time before he slid out of the truck. “I’ll see you soon.”
“You’d better, guapo. I’m counting on it. Truthfully, so was Evan, and that was the only thing that put a smile on his face as he headed toward the check-in desk.