Page 28 of The Keeper

Rueben had teed Seth up for drilling and filling jokes, but he didn’t take the bait. His need to see Rue was about so much more than sex. “Call me when you’re on the way. I’ll meet you there.”

“I will. I better go before someone comes looking for me.”

“Rue,” Seth blurted before he could disconnect.

“Yeah.”

“This isn’t just about sex.” Seth wasn’t ready to express what was really blooming between them.

“I know. It’s not for me either.”

Seth sighed. “We’re in really big trouble, aren’t we?”

“Yeah, but there’s no one I’d rather get in trouble with. I’ll talk to you tonight.”

“Bye, baby.”

Seth sat in his truck for a few minutes after they disconnected. Martindale’s stupid truck rumbled by again, prodding him out of his fantasyland. Yeah, the guy was gunning for his job, and Seth’s actions were making it easier for him to succeed. But not today. I’m still the sheriff, asshole. Seth rolled down his window and waved back, congratulating himself when he used all five fingers and not just the middle one.

Late again, damn it.

Rueben walked to his truck as fast as his trembling legs could carry him. The late-afternoon quickie stretched into an early evening cuddle session that led to blow jobs in the shower. He’d lost all track of time—and possibly his mind—while lingering in Seth’s arms for hours. Gentle caresses soothed Rueben enough to bare his soul and share the misdeeds Oliver Hawkins had alluded to during their conversation. Seth had understood why a heartbroken, uprooted, and angry kid found trouble and ended up going before juvenile judges. Those magistrates went pretty easy on him because his crimes had been minor. They assigned Rueben community service, and he eventually got his act together, until his short temper and a dumb decision as a young adult landed him in jail. Ironically, Rue hadn’t committed the crime they’d accused him of, but the jury didn’t believe him.

Arrowhead had put him in Cash Sweeney’s path, and Seth by proxy, so it was hard to hold a grudge. Maybe Rueben’s criminal past seemed like weird pillow talk, but their deepening connection was undeniable, and Rueben wanted to lay everything out in the open. His checkered past hadn’t deterred Seth one bit, and those assurances—physical and verbal—were partly to blame for Rueben running behind. He figured nothing could wipe the smile off his face until he picked up his abandoned cell phone out of the console and saw a string of new texts from Rory.

Fuck. Me.

He’d forgotten all about the segments he was supposed to film for future webisodes for their YouTube channel. It was official. Rueben was slowly losing his shit. He was either forgetting things or late to complete the simplest tasks at work because this thing with Seth consumed his thoughts day and night. He’d forgotten his burner phone back at the cabin when he’d showered before his dental appointment, leaving no way for Seth to contact him if something had come up to prevent meeting at the cabin. That possibility hadn’t even occurred to Rueben until Seth was late for their rendezvous. He’d sat in his truck wondering how long he should wait because calling Seth on his ranch phone was out of the question. He’d breathed a sigh of relief when his man arrived, even if he was twenty minutes late. Rueben had purposely left his ranch phone in his console when they went into the cabin. He figured Seth could only spare an hour at most and wanted to avoid interruptions, but they lingered on the sun-drenched bed like lazy house cats.

Rather than take the time to text Rory back, Rueben turned the key to start his engine. Instead of a humble roar, he only heard a series of clicks that spelled a longer delay and problems for him if he required a tow. Seth walked onto the porch and locked the door behind him. Rueben cranked the window down and poked his head out. “I think I have a problem.” When Seth got closer, he tried to crank the engine again. “I hope it’s just a dead battery. Please tell me you have jumper cables.” Rueben made a mental note to get his own set.

Maybe Seth sensed his rising panic because he reached inside the cab and caressed Rueben’s cheek. “Yep. I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll wait right here.” As if he had a different option. Rueben hadn’t meant to be funny, but his remark earned a smile and extra warmth in Seth’s gray eyes.

“I like you so damn much,” Seth said.

Rueben swallowed hard because he saw so much more than “like” in his man’s gaze. Seth turned and walked away before Rueben could reciprocate, which was probably a good thing because he probably might’ve used a different L word. They weren’t ready for that. It almost felt cruel to say something so potent when there was so little they could do about it. Rueben was under no pretense that he could slow down or prevent his affection from growing like wildfire, but he didn’t have to burden Seth with the truth.

The jump worked, and after one last kiss, Rueben headed straight for the auto part store in Last Chance Creek to buy a new battery. It was another delay, but it helped explain his tardiness. The clerk even installed the new battery for him and collected the old one for proper disposal. A bark of deep laughter caught his attention before he could back out of his parking spot, and he glanced over to see Oliver Hawkins talking to Amos Martindale. The two men made an interesting study on contrast, with Oliver’s tall, athletic build standing next to Amos’s shorter frame and much softer physique. Thor versus Boss Hogg. Those differences extended to the way they conducted their conversation too. Oliver’s posture came off as relaxed, and he was clearly in charge of his emotions, while Amos had the flushed face of a cartoon character about to blow steam out of his ears. Why was Seth’s ex-fiancé chatting up his opponent for sheriff? Another round of laughter burst from Amos’s fleshy lips, but it sounded like pure bitterness. What Rueben wouldn’t give to know what that conversation was all about.

Oliver must’ve sensed him watching because he suddenly searched the parking lot. Rueben tried to turn his head fast enough but wasn’t sure he pulled it off. He started the engine and backed up as casually as possible to avoid further scrutiny, and he didn’t so much as glance at Oliver in his rearview mirror as he drove away. Seth had said little about his past relationship with the man other than they had conflicting goals that made a future together impossible. Oliver had lofty journalism dreams better suited for a big city, and Seth wanted to serve his hometown. Rueben suspected there was more to the breakup because Sven said Oliver made a deep cut when he left town. Rueben hadn’t pushed Seth for more information because they’d get around to sharing more scars, eventually. But he made a mental note to tell Seth about the exchange between Amos and Oliver before shifting his thoughts to what he’d say when he got back to the ranch. He would arrive in time for dinner, which put his latest mistake front and center for everyone to see.

As he neared the ranch, Rueben realized he wasn’t going into the dining room armed with a bunch of bullshit lies or excuses, and he would not perform a song and dance to deflect attention away from the truth. He fucked up and would accept responsibility. That’s all he owed anyone. When the questions came, and they would, he’d keep his answers vague and mysterious. Even with a game plan in mind, nerves got the best of Rueben as he drove the winding lane down to the ranch. He normally spent the trip marveling at nature and his good fortune for living on such a gorgeous property. Those feelings were still present, but they also acted as a reminder of what his relationship with Seth could cost him and the people he loved. He didn’t live in a vacuum. His actions would have major repercussions for everyone on the ranch if he and Seth got busted. Rueben parked his truck, cycled through a few cleansing breaths, and then banished his doomsday thoughts. One crisis at a time.

Everyone had gathered in the dining room, but Harry hadn’t brought out the food yet. They traditionally chatted over a cold beverage while they waited for her to signal dinner was ready. She’d usually carry in the first platter, and the crew would pitch in to help with everything else. Rory was Harry’s sous chef in addition to handling the ranch’s PR and social media profiles. Rueben detoured to the kitchen when he noticed Rory’s absence in the dining room and found him scraping mashed potatoes into a massive serving bowl. Rory glanced up when he noticed Rueben’s approach. Tension furrowed his brow and bracketed his mouth. His light blue eyes scanned Rueben with concern.

“I’m so damn sorry, Ro,” he said before Rory could speak. “I really fucked up today. I’ll do anything to make it up to you?”

Rory’s expression softened, and his mouth curved into a wry smile. “Anything?”

Rueben worried his bottom lip between his teeth as he tried to figure out a way to backtrack a little. He missed a single filming, not a major life event like a wedding. “Within reason.”

“That isn’t what you said.”

“It was implied,” Rueben teased.

Harry turned from the back counter with a heavy platter of country-fried steak patties in her hands. She sighed and shook her head at Rueben. “You said, ‘anything.’ No stipulations, buddy. Now, pay the piper.”

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