Page 65 of Close Quarters

“Wasn’t Mona either.”

“Are you going to make me guess or can we shave ten minutes off me going through the list of people?”

“One.”

“What?”

“It’d be one minute. Because you can’t remember that many, you still have to be reminded of the names of people you see every day.”

“Alright, well fuck you for being right. And secondly, my question still stands.”

He chuckled, a sound I was getting used to and didn’t think I’d ever get tired of hearing. Funnily, it was the exact sort of chuckle I should be able to pull off. There was so much mischief in it that it was hard to believe it came from him. Then again, now he’d let go of a lot of his anger when dealing with me, maybe I shouldn’t be all that surprised. Without his temper getting in his way, I saw an impishness in him that I suspected most people didn’t get to see.

“According to Riley?—”

“Wow, when did you talk to him? Are you friends now?”

“Is that jealousy?”

“No. Fuck you. He’s not your type anyway.”

“Yeah,” he said dryly, glancing over at me. “I have no attraction to fit blonds who are annoyingly perky. Not one bit.”

“Ugh, fine. So after you were done sucking his dick, what did he tell you?” I asked because I knew damn well he wasn’t sleeping with Riley. I mean, even if we’d been given more leeway to hang out without each other, we still spent a lot of time together. Plus, if anyone else on the ranch was almost perpetually attached to someone else’s hip, it was Riley. The guy had been handed what I considered the worst person as a mentor, yet he and Max…worked?

Huh, if it wasn’t for the fact that Max’s aura screamed, “I am the world’s straightest man who has ever been straight in the history of straightness,” I might be tempted to wonder if the two had their own ‘understanding.’ Riley was cute enough, and once you got past the scowl on Max’s face like…ninety percent of the time, he was quite handsome. Actually, he was like a more rugged, sour-faced version of Leon when I thought about it.

“Where did your brain just go?” Reno asked wryly.

“I was…not thinking that Leon and Max are actually kind of handsome when you think about it.”

“I mean, you’re not wrong. Though Max isn’t exactly what I’d call my type.”

“What, too much grumpiness in one space?”

“Actually, yes.”

“Oh,” I said, a little surprised at the candor. “Well…alright then. Anyway, Riley?—”

“Right. He mentioned that Max, at some point, said something to Leon about sending the two of us out on something like this,” he said, gesturing toward the plains, eyes darting around rapidly.

Then, I realized he was paying attention to more than just the outcropping of what I had deemed mini mountains. He was also paying attention to the rest of the sunbaked area. Leon had warned us before leaving that we needed to head back immediately if we saw anyone approaching, whether on horseback or in a vehicle, from anywhere other than the ranch’s direction.

Drug running had evolved over the years, but they still liked to use plenty of the space Texas had to offer to move their stuff around. Leon had insisted they generally stayed away from the ranch and the nearby town of Rapture, but there were occasional sightings of groups moving through the area. Their policy was to avoid interaction, report it to someone, and mind their business. Considering how some of the dealers had been back where I’d lived, I was more than happy to leave anyone carrying drugs alone.

“Max was the one who said we should do shit like this?” I asked, not trying to hide my surprise. “Like, Max, tall, grumpy, practically your long-lost brother in terms of attitude?”

“First of all, fuck you. Secondly, yes, Max said that.”

“And Riley’s the one who told you this?”

“Yes.”

“After Max told Leon?”

“Why are we repeating a whole-ass conversation we just had?”

I laughed. “Because I’m having a hard time believing Max said anything that might be nice to anyone but Riley.”

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