Page 8 of Bulls and Their Boy

“It is for me,” Damon quipped, winking at Eli and me.

As Eli groaned, “God, Damon,” I simply glared.

“Fine! Okay, fine. Getaway to play. It’s good to the point. It would be better with a name.”

“You haven’t come up with a name yet?” Eli asked, staring from one of us to the other. “Shouldn’t that be first thing?”

“Not really. Isn’t it bad luck?”

Eli got right on his phone to look it up and said, “No. That’s a name for a baby for women in the first trimester.”

Damon teased, “Well, this is our baby, so wouldn’t that count?”

Eli looked up at the two of us, his eyes gleaming as he suggested, “Cowpokes.”

Damon cracked up and I had to laugh as well, but there was something about it, something…perfect. “Cow…pokes. That realtor did fuck with us, saying she’d tell people we were fucking cows up here, remember?”

“I do, that’s how it came to me,” Eli admitted. “It’s perfect.”

Damon shook his head at me, but said, “Come to Cowpokes, your getaway to play. Oh, fuck, we’re gonna attract some doozies up in this bitch.”

Chapter Three

We said goodbye to Eli before Roland Brady was to arrive. He waved as he rode off down the road on his bike, all smiles, making me know the kid was finally where he should be. Happy.

He’d told me in secret that Joel would be working for them the following week, and maybe I should stop by, but only if I made him use a safeword, if anything came of it. I didn’t think anything would, but remembering him on that bull…

I’d promised to visit, let’s put it that way.

I got my head back on our place, the problems and the good of it too. The weeds needed to be cut already, and the trim on the houses needed some paint so I took out my phone to add paint to the growing list of things for the place that were needed when I saw a text from Roland.

He was getting close and was afraid he’d get lost, so keep an ear out for a call.

Sometime later, he arrived. He knocked at the house, then called me when we didn’t answer. When my phone rang, Damon and I jumped once I answered, and he informed us he was there. We ran to him, laughing, but when the laughter stopped, Damon leered like a letch.

I had forgotten how pretty the architect was. Blond and apple pie pretty with glasses to match his nerdiness.

Damon was much more forward than me, but I did my share of leering at the poor man too. Poor man, I said then, not knowing what was going to happen later…

“Roland, hey,” I called to him as I stuck out my hand to shake his. Damon did the same and after Roland greeted us, he pointed to the barn.

“That’s it, huh?”

“Yeah,” I confirmed. “That’s the place. Hopeless?”

“Are you kidding? It’s great! What a nice space. And you’re zoned?”

“We are. We went over the laws for the county, and we’re good to go, unless someone raises a fuss, and we’re going to keep things on the down low about what exactly we’re getting up to, without lying right out about it.”

Roland wasn’t just the perfect man for the job, being he took over the firm from a man that did clubs like we wanted, but he was gay as well. He’d told us right off, when we were trying to skirt some issues during our first conversation.

And he never failed to let his eyes roam over us when he was with us in person. As he did then, checking out Damon and trying not to show us he was doing it. That was before he let my words sink into his head and his eyes met mine, then turned on Damon before moving back in my direction.

Damon chuckled behind his hand as Roland’s blond head cocked to one side. He stared like he didn’t understand what I was saying, and I couldn’t say as I blamed him. “Down low…?”

“Well, we’re not advertising,” Damon explained. “Not here, anyway. What we’re letting folks here know is we’re just having a nice retreat for some city folks. And that’s mostly true, after all. We’re just not advertising the fact that; besides the scenery, they’ll be taking in the sights in the club.”

“That’s…probably not legal, but I’m not your lawyer, I’m your architect.”

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