Page 69 of Road to a Cowboy

“I know people.”

Austin snorted a laugh.

“Wear something nice,” Cal said, laughter in his voice as he repeated Austin’s orders from before their failed first date.

Austin tsked. “Something nice,” he muttered under his breath. “I didn’t bring anything nice.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing!”

Austin frowned down at the bed, contemplating the clothes he’d strewn on it. He’d brought travel clothes—a single pair of jeans, a few T-shirts, and a hoodie. He hadn’t expected to need to dress nice, so the fanciest things he had were the jeans and the button-down shirt he’d worn to the school the previous day to impress the professors. He hadn’t expected to need it again, so he’d tossed it back into his suitcase without bothering to fold it, and now it was wrinkled to shit.

He searched around for an ironing board and—score!—found one in the hall closet.

After breakfast with Hedda and her parents, he and Cal had spent the day playing tourist in Trondheim. They’d strolled along cobbled streets and the Old Town Bridge, paddled along the Nidelva, visited Nidaros Cathedral and the Archbishop’s Palace, and taken a boat tour of the fjord. Austin had more photos than he’d ever taken while sightseeing, and that was all because of Cal.

He had photos of Cal posing against colorful buildings, selfies of them eating Norwegian pastries, more photos of Cal posing in front of monuments and street signs, and many, many candids of Cal.

Cal navigating the city using a map they’d picked up at the tourism center. Cal taking his own photos with his cell phone. Cal counting out Norwegian coins.

Austin’s favorite was a picture he’d taken on the fjord. Cal had stood on the boat, forearms braced against the railing, hair in disarray thanks to the wind, and he’d gazed out into the distance with a slight smile on his lips that spoke of peace.

He’d looked like he hadn’t had a care in the world. No cows to take care of, no disputes with vendors, no Barbara to make demands. Austin didn’t think he’d ever seen Cal look as relaxed as he had in that moment, with the sun shining and the water so, so blue and tree-covered spits of land jutting into the fjord like snakes.

This was good for him. Not Norway specifically, but a vacation. Getting away. Disconnecting and resetting. Cal loved his job, but it was a lot. As foreman, he had the weight of the whole ranch on his shoulders. Here, there was no weight at all and the only decision he had to make was where to go next.

He had nothing to prove here. He just had to be.

What Austin loved best about the trip so far was that they didn’t talk about work. Aside from Cal telling him about a co-op on the lands east of Windsor Ranch that he was going to be organizing, they talked about things like where to go next, and whether Austin’s parents would enjoy Norwegian pastries as much as they did, and if they’d be able to replicate Norwegian dishes at home.

Austin finished ironing his shirt, then shook it out. Jeans and a deep purple shirt was as nice as he was going to get.

The door to the bathroom opened, and Cal stepped out wearing fitted navy slacks and a matching sports coat over a camel-colored shirt. His hair was coiffed, his beard was trimmed, and if he added a cowboy hat, he’d look like he belonged on the cowboy edition of GQ.

Hell, he could grace the cover even without the hat.

Austin nearly swallowed his tongue. If Cal was dressed like this, he’d clearly planned ahead for whatever they were doing tonight.

Sparing a look for his newly ironed shirt, Austin said, “I should go buy something nice.”

“You already look nice,” Cal said, his voice all rumbly and smoky.

“I’m wearing briefs and a T-shirt.”

“Mm-hmm.” Cal came closer and kissed him lightly. “Like I said. Nice.”

“We could just stay here.” Austin tossed his shirt onto the bed, grabbed the lapels of Cal’s coat, and yanked him closer. “Order in and spend the night doing unspeakable things.”

“We can do the second thing later,” Cal murmured against his mouth. “But we have dinner reservations, so get dressed and let’s go.” He patted Austin on the butt and walked out of the room, leaving Austin with a semi and raging hormones.

“Asshole,” Austin yelled after him.

Cal just laughed.

The restaurant Cal had the taxi drop them off at wasn’t a restaurant—it was a boat. A dinner cruise to be more specific, and the people boarding looked like they were about to hit up a gala.

“I am way, way underdressed,” Austin muttered to no one.

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