Chapter Nine
Tyler poured the laundry soap into the dispenser, shut the lid, and turned on the washing machine.
He dragged his canvas laundry bag to the next washer to load his remaining clothes, but his attention got snagged on Owen’s sweet ass as he bent over to grab a sock off the floor.
A wave of heat flashed over Tyler as he thought about the newest way he and Owen pleasured each other before breakfast. He’d heard of a sixty-nine and had figured out what it meant, but he never imagined getting blown while sucking someone else off at the same time.
Not just someone. It was Owen who sucked his balls, licked his taint, and massaged his hole with a thumb as Tyler lost control and fucked his face.
Owen was the someone who made him feel alive for the first time and so keen to try more things.
“Better knock it off, or we’ll be scrambling for clean clothes midweek again.
” Owen stood up, tossed the sock in the washing machine in front of him, and started the load.
“I know you’re thinking dirty thoughts because the temperature in the laundry room just went up twenty degrees.
” When Owen turned around, Tyler noticed his smirk looked a little fuller than usual.
His mussed hair was the aftermath of Tyler’s eager hands, though they could’ve blamed that part on the wind instead of the make-out session they’d had after finishing their Sunday chores in the barn.
Tyler dropped the handles on his canvas bag and crossed the short distance between them. He smiled as he reached up and tidied Owen’s hair. “And maybe we could stand to be a little more discreet.”
Owen snaked an arm around Tyler’s waist and held him close. “I call bullshit. Every couple on this ranch tears up the sheets every chance they get, and none of them try to hide it.”
Sheets! Tyler had meant to throw them in the washing machine after a week of rigorous abuse, but Owen had sidetracked him with kisses.
“Your eyes got so big just now,” Owen said. “Don’t you want the crew to know about us?”
“Of course I do.” He wanted everyone to know…once he found the courage to come out. “I forgot to grab the bedsheets.” He gave Owen a quick kiss, then stepped out of his embrace. “I’m going to run back to my cabin and get them while there’s still a machine available. Be right back.”
“I could come with you.” Owen’s rough voice felt like a caress down his spine.
Tyler shook his head and grabbed his coat off the hook. “Oh no. A task that should take two hours will take six, and the guys would get pissed if we tied up the machines all day and disappeared.”
“But I could make it fast and dirty,” Owen suggested.
Tyler yanked the door open and stumbled over the threshold in his haste to put space between himself and Owen’s ideas. “That comes after we finish our laundry.”
He closed the door on Owen’s wicked laughter and hauled ass to his cabin.
Tyler balled up the top sheet, pillowcases, and the quilt inside the fitted sheet.
The quick motions stirred the air, and the scents from Owen’s bayberry soap, his Irish Spring, and their combined pleasure tickled his nose.
Tyler had never thought about what it meant to have someone else’s scent on his sheets, and he briefly closed his eyes to savor the moment.
His cell phone rang before he could pick the bundle up off the mattress.
Tyler figured it was Owen calling to spur his return but removed it from his pocket to be sure.
His heart sank when he saw his mom’s name on the screen.
The urge to let the call roll over to voicemail was strong, triggering an internal war between obligation, self-preservation, and guilt.
Tyler adored Wendy Booth with every fiber of his being, but their conversations sometimes left him feeling defensive and raw.
She’d been angling for him to return to Texas since leaving jail, and she didn’t mind using heavy-handed tactics either.
Her favorite angle was his grandfather’s advanced age.
Tyler loathed confrontation and deflected their conversations, but it only worked for so long.
She’d give him a reprieve for a few months before revisiting all the reasons he should return to the family fold.
Tyler blew out a frustrated breath and accepted the call right before it went to voicemail. “Hi, Mama,” Tyler said as cheerfully as he could muster. He was due for a guilt trip and mentally braced himself for it.
“Hello, Tyler.” Her voice held the usual mix of Texas twang and warmth, but there was something else. A slight hesitation? Sadness? “It’s good to hear your voice. I’ve been missing you a lot lately.”
Here we go. “I miss you too, Mama.” And he did. His mother had the most amazing laugh, robust and throaty, which contradicted her prim church-lady reputation.
“Do you, Tyler? When you were a little boy, you always volunteered to do the dishes with me after meals just so you could have my full attention, but it seems like we’ve grown more distant every year.
Have I done or said something to upset you or push you away?
” Her questions felt completely different from her previous attempts to guilt him into returning to Texas.
“I know things were tense between us for a while.”
Tense? Talk about candy-coating a situation.
Tyler had left home against their wishes and completely cut off contact with them.
Then, he proceeded to bang up his knee after getting thrown from a horse and got addicted to painkillers, which led to an arrest for buying illegal prescriptions from an undercover cop after his doctors refused to refill his medication.
He’d been high as a kite when it all went down, so they tacked on driving under the influence to his charges.
Tears stung his eyes as he recalled the shame he’d brought to his proud family.
“But I thought we worked through all of that,” his mom continued.
Tyler cleared his throat. “We did, Mama.” But he’d unintentionally pulled away from his family little by little so their rejection wouldn’t hurt him as badly when he came out.
His heart and soul had known all along that Owen was his future, but the rest of him took longer to catch up.
Tyler hadn’t seen a path forward that would let him keep Owen and his family, and his subconscious had made his choice years ago.
“Would you consider coming home for Thanksgiving? I would happily buy your ticket.” Her straightforward approach and the hopeful lilt in her voice struck him harder than previous guilt tactics ever had, but Tyler had a legitimate reason to refuse her offer.
“Cash and Nick are getting married, and I don’t want to miss their wedding.”
“Did you say Nick, as in short for Nicholas?” she asked.
Tyler flopped down on his bare mattress. “Yes, Mama.”
“Huh.” The silence stretched on between them before she spoke again. “You never told me Cash had a boyfriend.”
Tyler tensed as he prepared for her to quote scripture or something else that would reveal her feelings on the subject. But nothing came, and the silence yawned awkwardly. “To be honest, I didn’t know either until recently. Cash is very private, and we only knew Nick as his best friend.”
“I see.” Her voice had remained warm and judgment-free, but Tyler didn’t think he was out of the woods yet. “I married my best friend too, and we’ve been together for almost forty years. I can’t fault his choice.”
Was this a trap? Tyler narrowed his eyes and tried to figure out how to respond.
“Come for Christmas, then. Please, Ty. It would mean so much to us.”
The idea of spending the holiday without Owen was excruciating, especially since it was their first as a couple.
“And you can bring Owen with you,” she added. “Our treat. It’s way past time I meet your best friend, and I’d really love all my family together under one roof for the holiday.”
His knee-jerk reaction was to reject the offer outright, but it would give her the option to meet Owen before he came out to her—something he’d never do over the phone. “I’ll talk to Owen about his plans and let you know.”
“Soon, please,” she said.
“Of course.”
“Now that we’ve got that out of the way, do you have time to catch up?”
He thought of Owen waiting for him in the laundry room and bit back a sigh. He really missed his mom, so he said, “I do. What’s going on around there?” Tyler put his phone on speaker long enough to type out a quick text to let Owen know where he was.
“Grandpa is teaching line dancing classes at the senior center,” she said.
Tyler smiled at the image that came to mind.
“I’ve always said he’d outlive us all.” Which was why he’d never fallen for the frail-grandpa ploy.
His mom did most of the talking since she caught him up on what was going on with his five siblings and their families.
Tyler smiled when she relayed the many antics his nieces and nephews pulled off.
“You never would’ve let us get away with that,” Tyler said when she finished.
Her laughter was a warm reminder of the easy banter they used to share.
“Yeah, well, it’s so different with your grandchildren,” she said.
“You get to spoil them rotten and let their parents deal with the fallout. Your nieces and nephews have changed so much since the last time you came home, and you haven’t even met Skylar.
I swore to myself that I wouldn’t hound you to come home, but I needed to make one last pitch.
Please say you’ll really think about it. ”
It’s all he’d thought about since she invited Owen too.
With each new story, Tyler imagined himself and Owen in the middle of every scenario, especially when he learned a few of his nieces got into an argument over Candy Land.
He recalled that Owen’s childhood didn’t include family game nights.
His closest experience was poker nights on the ranch, though the crew’s teasing banter was significantly bawdier.