Page 51 of Road to a Cowboy

But Cal shook his head. “There’s no need to be sorry. You were living your life; I was living mine. Just like we were supposed to. No sorry needed.”

“And now we’re living it... together.”

“Yeah.” Cal dipped forward to kiss him softly. “I suppose we are.”

Chapter Fifteen

On Monday morning, Cal stood in Whitney Windsor-March’s office with Whitney, Las, and a scientist from the United States Nature Conservancy. Leta Wichner was one of the liaisons appointed by the USNC—the other being Las’s thesis advisor—to work with Las on his cell grazing project. Somewhere in her thirties, she was tall and blond and wore sturdy boots, jeans, and a USNC T-shirt. She and Las bandied about terms like residual biomass and standing biomass, and Cal felt decidedly out of his depth.

Too bad the Norwegian aliens couldn’t give him some tips—surely, they were smarter than him.

He’d researched and read journal articles, of course, but knowledge and experience weren’t the same thing. He was in the same room as two people who understood applied science better than he ever would, and honestly... why was he even here? Las didn’t need him. He knew as much about the ranch as Cal did. It was his legacy, after all.

But as foreman, it was Cal’s job to ensure that the farm infrastructure was in place and that he had skilled ranchers on hand to produce healthy cattle and ensure a steady income.

Whitney’s eyes glazed as Las and Leta started talking about s-curves, and since his boss wasn’t paying any attention either, Cal moved to the window and let his mind drift.

Austin had stayed the night on Friday, and it had been... fun. They’d eaten crackers and peanut butter and talked about nothing until Cal had reached the point of fatigue where he’d had to force himself to keep his eyes open. Then they’d slept next to each other in Cal’s bed, legs tangled, until Austin’s phone alarm had awoken them at an ungodly hour so Austin could get set up at the Saturday market. Cal had helped but hadn’t been able to stick around long past opening—he usually had weekends off, but Gwen had to take her cat to the emergency vet, so Cal had filled in for her at the ranch.

A scowling Austin had returned that night, Sully the puppy in tow, and had proceeded to pee on Cal’s front carpet. Sully, that was, not Austin, though watching Austin get frustrated over a four-legged fur ball that barely reached his knees had perhaps been the highlight of Cal’s entire life. Austin’s neighbor had picked Sully up well past midnight, when Cal had been half asleep, so he’d only peripherally been aware of Austin coming to bed, but waking up to him for a second morning in a row had been nothing short of amazing.

Of course, Barbara had summoned that morning, meaning Cal had missed brunch with the MacIsaacs again. And since Austin had had a night shoot scheduled in Custer Gallatin National Forest, he’d opted to stay in one of the nearby towns in Montana rather than drive home in the middle of the night. Safer that way, especially on these roads.

Cal’s stomach fluttered as he recalled the way Austin had led him to bed that first night. They’d been covered in cracker crumbs and their breath had smelled like peanut butter, but Cal hadn’t had the energy for more than a quick pee and mouthwash before he’d fallen into bed. Austin had curled up next to him, bringing the sheets up to their shoulders. The last thing Cal remembered was Austin turning out the light and muttering a quiet “Go to sleep, baby.”

Baby.

Just the memory of Austin’s sleep-sexy voice murmuring the endearment in his ear had Cal’s face warming and his heart thumping. Even though all they’d had a chance to do was pant through that one hand job and a series of kisses, Cal could imagine what Austin’s lips would feel like on the rest of him.

He had to admit, though—he kind of liked that they hadn’t rushed into sex. Sex for Cal had always been about more than hormones and lust. It was about connection, about trust, about emotion. The last person he’d dated had been a guy who’d broken up with him when Cal had found one excuse after another not to have sex with him. The person he’d dated before that had been a woman, and the person before that had been Miranda in high school.

So yeah. Cal was a little nervous about sex with Austin.

Friday night’s hand job had been nothing. Well, not nothing. But easy. Cal had a dick. He knew how to masturbate. Ergo, he knew what to do with Austin’s dick.

But when it came down to the more... intense... stuff? Cal had no idea what the fuck he was doing.

“Cal can help with that. Right, Cal?”

Jolted out of his thoughts, he turned from the window to find Las, Leta, and Whitney blinking expectantly at him. Christ. He’d zoned out in front of his boss.

“Sorry, my mind wandered,” he admitted. He tried a sheepish smile, which seemed to work because Las and Leta laughed. Whitney eyed him, though. Cal couldn’t blame her. The times his mind had wandered while on the job were precisely nil.

“Sorry,” Leta said. “I can get bogged down in the science when I start a new project. It’s usually pretty boring to people who aren’t biologists.”

“I wouldn’t say it was boring.” Whitney rose and tucked her cell phone in her pocket. “But it was certainly... thorough. The two of you seem to have this handled, and I know Cal will have valuable insight into which pastures to convert to cell grazing first, so I’ll leave you to it.” She looked at Cal. “I’ve got a meeting in town, but give me a call if you need anything.”

“I’ll walk you out,” Cal said. “There’s something I want to run by you.” To Las and Leta, he said, “Meet you in the barn in five minutes?”

Outside, under the heat of the sun, Whitney paused by her truck, keys in hand. “What’s going on?”

“I have a bit of a wacky idea I want to run by you.” He rubbed a palm over his jaw, wondering if his idea was too wacky, but he’d never know if he didn’t ask. “If Las’s project works like he hopes, we should eventually see a reduction in costs.”

In theory, on the new cell grazing system, nutrients in the soil would increase, reducing the need for fertilizer and weed control. And with an increase in pasture quality, Cal suspected that the need for additional feeding would decrease, saving them costs on food.

“That would be an ideal situation,” Whitney remarked.

“Right. So what if, with those cost savings, we purchased more cows and expanded our operations?” He held up a hand when Whitney opened her mouth to speak. “Before you say it, I know we don’t have the space for them. But there’s tons of space on the lands east of the east pastures. Forty-four thousand acres, in fact.”

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