Cowboys Don't Ride Unicorns Page 7

  When they got outside, Nora waited on the sidewalk, loaded down with bags and parcels. She gave a little hop. “That was so much fun. Thanks so much, Danny.”

  “My pleasure, ma’am.” He flashed his dimples.

  She looked at Laurie. “What did you buy?”

  “I found some things I had shipped back to San Francisco to use in my clients’ homes.”

  “Nothing for yourself?”

  “I must confess, I saw a huge picture hat that tempted me mightily. The old cowboy selling it looked so scandalized by a man wearing the hat, I had to do a little extra prancing, but I didn’t buy it.”

  Danny screwed up his nose to keep from laughing. Just when I think Laurie’s clueless, he demonstrates how fucking far ahead he is.

  Aliki ran toward them, waving. “Hey, Uncle Danny, that was so cool!”

  “Glad you liked it.”

  The rest of the group caught up, and they started toward the van. Grove put his arm around Laurie, and the two walked ahead. Maybe Danny’s imagination, but Grove sure seemed to be working hard to show off his fucking lovey-doveyness. Shit, them that can, will, I guess. That didn’t stop his hands from closing into fists and his shoulders from hunching up toward his ears. As they came up on the van, he beeped the lock to let everyone in. Grove stepped back to let Laurie cross in front of him, then laid a big hand on Laurie’s tight, linen-clad ass and patted as he stepped inside.

  Danny stopped outside the van and caught his breath. Enough of this shit. He reached in his pocket for the phone and dialed.

  The familiar deep drawl said, “Hey, baby.”

  “Hi, Frank. Want to get some drinks tonight?”

  “Hell, yeah.”

  “’Kay. See you at Larry’s at nine.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  He hung up. About time I get back to my fuck buddy and forget this mess.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  LAURIE PUSHED back his chair from the table, making the familiar scraping sound. “Thank you so much, Felicia. Dinner was delicious.”

  She flashed her sweet smile as she cleared dishes. “Gracias, Señor Belmont.”

  Rand and Kai walked past outside the window, actually holding hands. Amazing. Rand looked as tough as a cowboy could be until he gazed at his husband; then bluebirds tweeted and unicorns barfed rainbows. It almost made a guy believe in true love. Laurie stuck his head out the door. “Excuse me, Rand.”

  “Hey, Laurie. Having fun?”

  “Yes. Thanks.” He walked out. “I’m really enjoying myself. I haven’t had much time off lately. Speaking of which, Grove’s kind of antsy and wanted to go someplace for a drink and maybe some dancing.”

  “So, gay friendly?”

  “Preferably.”

  Kai grinned. “Around here there’s only one place. Larry’s. It’s not really a gay bar exclusively, but anyone who goes there better not mind same-sex dancing.”

  “Sounds perfect.”

  Rand nodded. “Pull up outside when you’re ready to go, and I’ll have the address for you.”

  “Thanks.” Laurie strolled back toward their suite. Danny hadn’t come to dinner. When they got back from Chico, he’d walked to the stable and vanished for the rest of the day. What spooked him? He’d been totally great on their ride the previous morning—funny, inquisitive, even charming—but then a curtain descended. Yeah. After my phone call.

  Then today, there’d been that moment at the antiques mall when Danny said he didn’t like women “that way.” Did he mean to say that? Did he mean that? Laurie’d assured Grove that Danny was straight, and all evidence pointed to true. But sometimes—shit, sometimes Danny looked at him like he wanted to eat him, and not in a bad way. A shiver shot down Laurie’s spine to his balls. Danny Boone alone amounted to way more than a boy could endure. Gay Danny Boone represented a threat to human sanity—to say nothing of the threat he could be to Laurie’s future. Get over yourself!

  Laurie puffed his cheeks and walked into their room. Grove sat on the homey sofa, watching some sports thing on TV—moodily. Sound upbeat. “Hey, I found a club where we can go dance and get a drink.”

  His face brightened. “Really? Around here?”

  “Apparently there’s only one—but there is one.”

  “Great. Let’s go.” He flipped off the TV and stood.

  “Let me get out of my cowboy suit.”

  “Come on, Laurie, don’t take all night.” He flopped back down.

  “I’ll make it worth it.” Jesus, was there any man not mad at him?

  He stepped into the bathroom, yanked off his boots, peeled off his jeans and western shirt, and dropped them on the floor. Sponge bath. A quick swipe in the pits and the crotch, and he pulled on a pair of boxer briefs under white linen trousers. No bikinis tonight. They showed, and he didn’t want to rile up the natives. On top he added a thin-as-tissue pink sweater, then slid on some good-for-dancing loafers with no socks. Hair? He went with loose since Grove liked it so much. He patted a little blush on his cheekbones, brushed his teeth, and tinted his lips ever so slightly. Then he added the pièce de résistance—his diamond unicorn necklace. The one indulgence he’d permitted himself—when every other dollar he earned he gave to his folks or stashed against the day he could break away from Armisted and start his own firm. But he’d seen this little unicorn and just couldn’t resist. It shone on the sweater like a star. Ready.

  He opened the door from the bathroom. Grove looked up with a frown, then broke into a grin.

  Laurie spread his arms dramatically. “See? I told you.”

  “Oh yeah, baby, you’re always worth waiting for.”

  Laurie held out his phone in its jeweled case. “Will you carry it for me? My pants are too tight.”

  Grove shook his head. “You should carry a purse.”

  “I don’t see you complaining about the pants.” He thrust out his ass and flashed it toward Grove.

  Grinning, Grove slipped the phone into his hip pocket.

  They walked outside and fired up the Porsche, stopped long enough to grab the address from Felicia who ran out with it, entered the numbers into the GPS, and took off, following the directions. A few minutes later, they arrived at what could best be called a roadhouse on the side of the two-lane street headed toward Chico. The gravel parking lot boasted every kind of truck, plus some cars ranging from fancy to piece-of-shit categories.

  People in western gear and some who looked more like college students and academics milled about outside smoking, since California had strict rules about tobacco in public places. To a person, they stopped to stare at the Spyder. Grove found a spot as far from prospective damage as possible and locked the car as they walked across the crunchy ground. One cute young guy, definitely gay and probably in school, grinned. “That’s some car, buddy.”

  His friend, also cute but a bit more masc, snorted. “That’s some date.”

  Laurie laughed. “Thank you, dear. I’m his brother.”

  “Really?” He looked ready to pounce.

  “No, not really.”

  “Damn.”

  Grove yanked his arm just a little and walked him toward the door. “Don’t torture the locals.”

  “But it’s such fun.”

  Grove laughed. At least he was warming up.

  When they opened the door, it looked as if two different businesses had been shoved together—half cowboy, as evidenced by the country-western band whining on guitars and fiddles as patrons two-stepped in front of them, and half intellectual, as represented by an unexpected back wall of books. The college people seemed congregated in that back corner, while the cowboys owned the big bar. Laurie looked around for a table.

  Grove cracked a half grin. “Looks like we have to choose sides here.”

  “I think we constitute our own group.” Laurie pointed at a table on the edge of the bookish crew, but not too far from the dance floor. “There. Let’s establish our third world.”

  Laurie squeezed through the tables, g
etting looks on all sides, and grabbed the empty spot just before two big men with beards could claim it. Laurie flittered his fingers. “Saw-ry.”

  One guy said, “We could share.”

  “Oooh, my boyfriend’s very jealous.”

  They eyed Grove for a second, like maybe checking out if they could take him, but they saw another table and hurried to it.

  “Troublemaker.”

  Laurie grinned. “Always.”

  As soon as they sat, a waiter with a sweet smile and bad skin rushed over. “What can I get you?” His eyes never left Laurie.

  “What kind of wine do you have, dear?”

  “Red and white and they’re both crap.”

  Laurie exploded in a laugh. “I love an honest man.”

  “We do great beer of all kinds, and the mixed drinks are generous.”

  Grove said, “I’ll have a scotch and water, light on the water, with the best scotch you’ve got.”

  “Got it. The scotch isn’t gonna make the cover of GQ, but it’s pretty good.”

  I love this kid. Laurie drew a finger across his cheek. “Can the bartender make a margarita?”

  “Oh hell, yeah.”

  “That’s what I’ll have.”

  “Coming right up.” He bustled off toward another table of thirsty drinkers.

  Grove chuckled. “He’s a riot.”

  “I agree.” Laurie swallowed. “Dear, when you go back to the city, could you make a point of exerting your influence regarding my father’s company? I think the takeover efforts have escalated, and he could lose the whole thing—his life’s work.”

  Grove frowned. “Takeovers aren’t the work of a minute. There’s plenty of time.”

  “Mama’s pretty frantic. You know how she can get about Daddy.”

  “Seriously, there’s nothing to worry about yet, but tell Mama I’ll look into it as soon as I can when I get to the city.”

  Laurie put a warm hand on his arm. “Thank you so much.” He smiled as seductively as he could muster, just to remind Grove of what he got in the bargain. The band switched to something slower and not quite so done-somebody-wrong. Laurie extended a hand. “Let’s show them how to dance.”

  Grove stood, smiling, and led Laurie to the dance floor, spun him, and then set off on a very respectable cowboy waltz. Well, respectable in terms of skill level—but he held Laurie tight enough that it prompted a pretty unrespectable erection that Grove poked into Laurie’s upper thighs. He murmured, “This was a great idea. Thanks.”

  If Grove noticed he wasn’t getting a poke back, he didn’t say anything.

  They waltzed around the floor, getting smiles from some of the other dancers—both same-sex and male-female couples. He and Grove made an attractive pair, as his mama loved to point out regularly. Grove’s stocky masculinity and Laurie’s super-femme appearance fit people’s pictures of how things ought to be—especially straight people who somehow imagined that gay couples had male and female roles.

  Shit, why can’t I just surrender to this whole arrangement? My dad will keep his company and everyone will be so happy. What the fuck’s wrong with me? He’d actually met Grove almost a year before at a party. Grove had asked him out, and he’d been flattered. He’d also kind of wanted to impress his parents with his rich, successful suitor, so he’d taken Grove to meet his folks. That represented his last moment of control over the relationship. His mama had latched on to Grove like moss on a rock. When his mama found out Grove could help get his father’s company back—the company his father was losing in a hostile takeover—that sealed Laurie’s fate. Grove became Prince Charming to his Cinderella—at least in his mother’s book of fairy tales, and she was determined to write her happy ending. But hell, he owed her so much. Owed his father so much. And he liked Grove. He really did.

  Grove twirled him, and Laurie laughed. See how easy it is to relax and have fun?

  The music ended and the band took a break. Holding hands, Grove and Laurie strolled back to the table and fell on their drinks.

  Laurie sipped. “Do you want me to come to the city with you when you go tomorrow? I could take a few things, and then we could come back—or I can just pack, and we’ll check out.”

  Grove frowned. “I thought you were having fun.”

  “I am. This has been a great couple of days, but I’d like to be with you.” He smiled. That’s true—sort of.

  Grove smiled big. Good. I want to please him. “That’s wonderful, but to tell the truth, I’m going to be so busy, we wouldn’t have any time together.”

  “I can always work too.”

  “No, you work too much.”

  “Look who’s talking.” Laurie grinned.

  “Hey, baby, I’m a workaholic. You need rest sometimes, and this is a great place for you. To tell you the truth, I thought you’d hate it, but seeing you on horseback and out in the open air showed me something new about you. Hell, you’re really an athlete—sort of. Who knew?”

  Laurie tried to smile.

  “And you look a lot less tired and stressed since we’ve been here. I think you should stay. I’ll try to get back quick, and we’ll have a few days together before our vacation ends, okay? Hell, we can just spend two days in bed.” He grinned. “Now that sounds like vacation. Maybe I’ll bring you some new lingerie, and you can try it out on me when I get back.”

  “Sounds great.” He let the air slide between his lips as he drank a mouthful of lime and sugar goodness.

  The band came back, and Laurie and Grove tried a two-step with slightly laughable results, then settled into a nice, snuggly slow dance. Laurie attempted to put his cheek against Grove’s, but since Laurie was taller and Grove was leading, the attempt failed. He kind of rested his cheek on Grove’s hair.

  Grove spun; Laurie smiled and gazed toward the bar and—froze, stumbled, and got caught by Grove’s strong arms. “You okay?”

  “Oh yes. I think I hit a rough spot on the floor.”

  Grove nodded and pulled Laurie tight again.

  Right, a rough spot on the floor with a cowboy named Danny on it. Shit! Grove danced his way through the crowd to the other side of the dance floor. Not much visibility to people sitting at the bar. Just get me close enough to be sure I saw who I think I saw.

  He practically bit his tongue for patience, but finally Grove sashayed back toward the bar. Laurie raised his head and stared. Son of a living, breathing bitch. Sitting cozily at the big bar next to a handsome, blond cowboy sat none other than Danny Boone.

  Maybe he wasn’t kidding back at the antiques mall. Laurie’s heart beat like a tom-tom. He’s gay. He’s gay. He’s gay. Don’t get too worked up. Maybe the guy’s just a friend. But something about the easy way they talked and even touched each other screamed lovers.

  How do you feel about that, Mr. Belmont? Answer—too fucking excited for my own good.

  Right there at the bar sat the best reason ever for Laurie to go back to San Francisco tomorrow. It appeared Danny had a boyfriend, and even if he didn’t, Laurie did. Just keep repeating that.

  Back at the table, Laurie lost his line of sight to Danny. He gazed into Grove’s eyes and dragged his mind out of his crotch, laughing at every joke and flirting like mad with his own boyfriend. Still, some perverse corner of his brain kept hoping Grove wouldn’t see Danny. Gay Danny.

  Another half a margarita and a chaser of ice water went straight to his bladder. “I need the men’s room.” Laurie stood, then gave Grove a wink. “Wanna be girls and go together?”

  “You’re on your own, babe.” He swallowed a slug of scotch.

  Laurie carefully walked in the general direction of the bar and gave it a quick survey. No Danny. Must be gone. More relief than disappointment—kind of.

  He spied the restroom sign toward the back of the club and scooted between tables to get to it. As he approached the bathroom door, a tall, skinny guy pushed past him, knocking Laurie toward the wall. “Well damn, rude much?”

  “Wha—?” The dude tu
rned and stared at Laurie with bleary eyes. Clearly more beer than brains. “Well, hello there, pretty lady. Goin’ my way?” He leered and walked the few steps to the men’s room door, holding it open with an exaggerated bow.

  Okay, think. Trapped in a stall with that drunken fool? I don’t think so. “No thanks.” He glanced down the narrow hall for some excuse and spied the coatroom. “Just getting my coat.” The fact that the heat outside challenged clothing of any kind, much less a coat, would not be discussed.

  The drunk held the door wide and grabbed Laurie’s arm. “I think we could find something delicious to put in that pretty mouth of yours.”

  Laurie ripped his arm away and stepped down the hall toward the coatroom—the room with nobody in it. “Not unless you want it bitten off, asshole. Get away from me or I’ll scream so loud they’ll be bringing cops from San Francisco.”

  “Okay, baby.” He narrowed his mean eyes, gave Laurie a slow once-over, and switched a toothpick in his mouth from one side to the other in the process. “No harm done. Don’t mean nothin’ by it. Just me and my boys havin’ a little fun.” The guy glanced over his shoulder and grinned.

  Boys? Laurie followed the drunk’s line of sight. At the entrance to the hall, a fat guy in greasy jeans leaned against the wall. They must share toothpicks, because his looked just as nasty.

  Slow breath. Likely he and Grove could manage these guys in a fight, but how the hell did he get to Grove? Laurie stepped forward as if to pass the two men, and the skinny dude moved faster than the alcohol he’d consumed should have allowed, blocking Laurie’s path. Two young guys who looked more like college students than cowboys walked into the hall, talking about cars. They glared at Skinny until he moved out of the way. When they got between Laurie and the two assholes, Laurie turned fast and walked toward the Exit door at the end of the hall. Before he heard any footsteps behind him, he pushed open the bar on the door and stepped out into the cooling air—and a narrow, not-great-smelling alley. The smell must discourage back-alley hookups, since not one single couple leaned against the grimy walls. Shit!

  He glanced in both directions. Decide quick. One way led to what appeared to be the garbage cans. Yuck. The other must go toward the front parking lot. He took off that way, jogging to where the wall turned. There had to be people out there, right? He peeked around the corner. Skinny Dude stood on the porch of the club, staring around at the parked cars. Not one other person.