Page 43 of Road to a Cowboy

“I’m simply telling you who’s next on my list,” Hedda said, but Austin could hear the undertone of amusement in her voice. “I’d much rather have you than him. You’ll let me know about that visit, won’t you?”

“Yeah.” Austin blinked up at the blue, blue sky. “Yeah, I will.”

They hung up, and Austin grabbed his horse’s reins. “What do you think, Shadowfoot? Can I have the boy and the cool job?”

Shadowfoot, obviously bored with him, ducked her head to munch on the grass.

“Some help you are.”

Chapter Fourteen

Cal walked into Austin’s house on Friday evening for their first-date redo wearing his most comfortable jeans and holding a six-pack of beer and a bag of Twizzlers. That not right feeling from last week was nowhere to be found, perhaps owing to the fact that he felt comfortable in his own skin in jeans and a T-shirt, perhaps because dinner at Austin’s made him feel less exposed...

Or because, last week, he’d still been half on the fence about dating Austin at all.

He wasn’t on the fence anymore, but he was still worried about how this would change things between them.

The truth was, though, that things had already changed. From the moment Austin had asked him out, things had been different. It had tilted their relationship sideways, giving it a new facet. A new angle. It was like picking up a favorite snow globe and noticing a new detail on the statue inside for the first time.

So while the not right feeling had dissipated to nothing, the nerves sure were making themselves known. Cal wasn’t sure he’d ever been this nervous for the admittedly few first dates he’d been on, and reminding himself that this was Austin didn’t help.

Because it was Austin.

He was dating Austin.

It was both weird and amazing.

Since Cal had had an earlier than normal start to his workday, he and Austin had eschewed their weekly Friday morning ass-crack-of-dawn walk. Because, in Austin’s words, Four a.m. isn’t a time of day I want to see unless I’m taking photos or being fucked.

Cal had nearly swallowed his tongue when he’d read Austin’s text. Then he’d had to explain to Ewan and Orson—who did seem to be getting along much better now—why he’d tripped over his own feet.

“Aus?” he called, banishing Austin’s text from his immediate thoughts. He closed the door behind him and kicked off his shoes.

“In the kitchen,” Austin called back.

Cal sniffed the air as he walked down the hallway to the back of the house. “Smells amazing. Are you making that chicken dish thing?”

“Why does everyone keep calling it a chicken thing?” Austin muttered, adding diced tomatoes to the pan on the stove. “It’s called orzo chicken skillet.”

“Same difference.”

“I’m gonna kick you out in a second.”

Chuckling, Cal placed the beer and the Twizzlers on the counter. “Can I help?”

“It’s pretty much done.” Austin added broth and seasoning, then covered the pan and reduced the heat. “It needs to simmer for fifteen minutes, then we can eat. Believe it or not, it calls for spinach too, but?—”

Cal made a face.

“Yeah.” Austin laughed and pointed at him. “Exactly.” He pulled two beers out of the six-pack and handed one to Cal. “You can help me set the table while it finishes cooking and tell me about how you got that.” He gestured at the bruise on Cal’s arm.

Cal held it out in front of him and sighed. “Ewan and Orson challenged me and Gwen to an archery competition. Losers get to muck the stalls for a week.”

Austin passed Cal a couple of plates. “Who won?”

“Are you kidding? You think any of us could hit the target?”

“Who gets to muck the stalls then?”

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