Chapter Two
Get in, grab your dinner, and get out. Seth’s mission sounded easy, and it would’ve been if he’d been able to place his carryout order over the phone instead of getting a busy signal at the Feisty Bull for a solid two hours.
He’d suggested his aunt Debbie upgrade their website to take online orders, but she waved him off and said they could barely keep up with the phone orders and their walk-in customers.
He didn’t dare suggest they expand their business and risk falling out of favor with her.
The restaurant wasn’t much to look at, just a ranch-style building in the middle of nowhere.
The white clapboard exterior was simple, but the Feisty Bull’s top-notch culinary delights brought customers back for more, as evidenced by the packed parking lot and busy phone lines.
The overflow spilled onto the grassy areas on either side of the restaurant and between the gravel lot and the road.
Seth groaned and nearly kept going when he saw the crowd, but thoughts of a cheesesteak hoagie teeming with thinly sliced rib eye, smoky provolone cheese, peppers, onions, and mushrooms were the only thing that had kept him moving throughout the day.
Exhaustion had come and gone, and he now teetered into the land of the living dead.
Running into Rueben and seeing him happy with someone else sure as hell hadn’t boosted his energy.
Seth couldn’t help but notice the intimate way Rueben and Keegan interacted.
He’d arrived at Lyndhurst’s office in time to see Rueben’s arm around Keegan’s shoulders as they headed into the building.
He sat in his truck for several minutes to quell the disappointment he had no right to feel.
Seth convinced himself Rueben was just offering emotional support, but then he’d placed his hand on Keegan’s knee at one point, and they’d held hands at another.
Seth didn’t have any right to feel jealous.
He was the one who’d told Rueben they couldn’t have a future with the trial looming over their heads.
He’d foolishly believed the Carsons would accept a plea deal rather than risk trial, but they were still holding out nine months later.
Lyndhurst had unfortunately made some very valid points Seth couldn’t ignore.
His actions could have serious consequences if anyone found out about his weekend with Rueben.
If Seth was to be mad at anyone for his predicament, he only needed to point the finger at himself.
He was the one who’d invited Rueben to the old fishing cabin he inherited from his grandpa Burke, thinking that a few rounds of sex would work the charmer out of his system.
All Seth had accomplished was a deeper desire to know everything about Rueben, including additional ways to make him come.
His name cried from Rueben’s lush lips during a pulsing climax had become Seth’s favorite thing, and after nine months, he wondered if he’d imagined the chemistry they’d shared.
But seeing Rueben in the waiting room unleashed a pang of longing so intense that Seth knew what he’d felt was real—past and present.
He locked himself down tightly to keep from reacting, but his efforts must’ve been too severe because Lyndhurst had told him to save the mean mugging for the interrogation room once they were alone in his office.
At least Lyndhurst wasn’t privy to the lusty thoughts Seth hid behind his stony visage.
Not even seeing Rueben hold hands with someone else had dimmed his desire.
Regret was a barbed-wire noose around Seth’s neck and total overkill.
The rope would’ve been enough to get the job done without wrapping it in razor wire, just as his existing emotional strife stole enough of his sleep without adding more to the mix.
Seth pulled into the lot and drove around to the back to park by the dumpster.
Not like the owners would have him towed.
Seth wished he could drink a cold beer or two at the bar while he waited for his food, but he still wore his gun and badge.
It wouldn’t matter to onlookers that he was off duty, if such a thing existed for a sheriff.
And he sure as hell wouldn’t risk locking his badge and gun in his glove box.
With his current unlucky streak, someone would break into his truck and steal them.
He’d look unfit to hold the sheriff’s office with five months to go in his reelection bid.
The shit with Salvation Anew had left him in a precarious position with his constituents, but the dust had seemed to have settled in his favor after the joint task force apprehended Mick and Quinton Carson.
Then he’d gone and jeopardized everything for three nights of mindless pleasure with Rueben.
He should regret it, but damned if he could muster the energy, and he just didn’t fucking want to anyway.
As far as he knew, they were in the clear, and Rueben had obviously moved on with Keegan.
Seth ignored the slight pang at the thought and forced himself out of the truck, mentally placing his order as he strode toward the building.
The sun was putting itself to bed when he left the sheriff’s department, and long shadows stretched over the employee’s parking area.
His aunt and uncle hadn’t dedicated as much attention to exterior lighting in the back as they did in the front, something else he should discuss with them.
There were too many places someone could lie in wait.
Debbie and Rick didn’t have children of their own and viewed their staff as family.
Keeping them safe should be at the top of their priorities.
Some would blame Seth’s military and law enforcement services for his jaded tendencies, but the lessons had started the summer he turned thirteen.
The Burkes and Harts still navigated the aftermath of their sudden and tragic loss twenty-five years later.
There were anniversaries you loved to celebrate and some that flayed you to the bone.
This weekend was the latter, and Seth desperately needed a break.
The lighting situation improved when he rounded the corner of the building, and the tension eased in his shoulders.
The bass from the music reached him on the sidewalk, but he couldn’t tell what genre was on tap for the night.
His aunt and uncle jumped around to keep things interesting and played the music just loud enough to set a fun atmosphere.
No one wanted to scream across the table to their companion or have anything pull focus from the extraordinary food.
The logo on the front of the door always made him smile.
The bull wore an expression that was both feisty and fierce, which made him think of Rueben.
Seth would not be fooled by his quick wit and laid-back persona.
He’d seen the fierceness in his expression when he thought Keegan was upset, and he also witnessed his smug pride when his boyfriend stood up to Lyndhurst. The Keegan he first met would’ve never questioned the prosecutor’s intentions, and Seth figured much of the credit went to Rueben and the rest of the Redemption Ridge crew.
For the second time in mere minutes, he forced his thoughts away from Rueben.
Seth opened the door and stepped inside a building that had represented many things to him.
So many memories—the good, the bad, and the downright ugly—connected him to this one place that helped shape the man he’d become.
At thirty-eight, the restaurant served up the comfort food that kept him going on his most stressful days.
He used to recite items on the menu when he served in Iraq and Afghanistan in his early twenties.
Seth bussed tables and washed dishes during high school to earn extra money.
Aunt Debbie was the first person he’d come out to back then, and she’d kept Seth’s secret until he felt comfortable being open and honest with everyone in the family.
The Feisty Bull became a command center when his sixteen-year-old cousin Natalie, Kerry’s older sister, disappeared.
Seth had been thirteen at the time, and Kerry had been twelve.
They’d been the last family members to see her when she dropped them off in Last Chance Creek to get ice cream and play video games.
Their families had spread maps on the dining tables and organized volunteers into search groups when the sheriff’s department refused to get involved.
They’d treated her as a runaway because Seth had seen her get into a rusty blue pickup truck with a Pearl Jam bumper sticker on the rear window and a faded logo for a plumbing company on the door.
Seth had insisted until he was blue in the face that Natalie had planned to come back, but the condescending sheriff hadn’t listened.
The search teams were successful, but it had been too late for Natalie, something he’d never forgotten and would never forgive.
Buildings didn’t just have four walls and a roof; they pulsed with life and memories every bit as real as the country music thumping through the speakers when he stepped inside the restaurant.
Since the Feisty Bull was the only watering hole and eatery close by, his aunt and uncle had tried to accommodate everyone’s needs.
A gorgeous bar acted as a divider between the two unique dining spaces.
To the left was a dining room with cloth-covered tables and an enormous stone fireplace acting as the focal point.
Stunning artwork painted by local artists adorned the walls, the music volume was quieter, and softer lighting invited patrons to linger and converse over a meal.