Page 15 of A Stable Daddy

Oscar’s shock seems to fade, and he takes charge of the awkwardness between us, closing the gap in two long strides before he pulls me in for a hug. “It’s so good to see you, darlin’.”

Chapter Six – Oscar

Ryan is absolutely the last person I expected to turn up at the station where I’m working now. I mean, I met the guy in a club on the other side of the country, for Christ’s sake! But he’s here, melting into my hug, and I can’t lie and say I’m not elated by this random turn of events.

My mama would probably say it’s fate, or God’s will, or something airy-fairy like that, but I think it’s just the luckiest coincidence in the whole damn world.

I’ve thought about that night in Brisbane often over the past couple of months. I’m sure I’ve romanticised it, but the time spent in my hotel room was perfect…and nowhere near long enough. That night, Ryan was the sweetest Boy for me, and even though I’ve looked into nearby clubs to scratch my itches, I’ve not yet followed through.

That can’t all be blamed on my fixation on the man currently in my embrace, though. I needed a few weeks to properly settle in at the station, to start with. Then, once I was settled, I threw myself into work. The days here are long but rewarding. Nevertheless, they’re exhausting, and by the time I’m flopping into my bunk at night, I’m practically comatose. As such, there haven’t been any long drives out to the nearest town for any hanky-panky for me just yet. Hell, I’ve barely spent time with my right hand!

But now, with Ryan’s familiar body pressed against mine, my libido’s waking back up. I breathe in his cologne —soft and atouch sweet— and squeeze him for just a moment longer than could be considered appropriate.

“I hear you’ve been a real good boy,” I murmur into his ear, and I delight in the full-body shiver that runs through him. “Dusty said you saved Jemima and her foal over the phone.”

I’d been out moving the cattle across from one field to another at the time, but to hear the guys tell it, ‘Doc Sharp’ had worked a miracle without even being present.

“I didn’t do anything,” he demurs as he takes a step out of my embrace, putting a professional amount of space between us. I’ll let him set boundaries, especially while he’s here for work purposes, but I’m not letting him be so dismissive of his own accomplishment.

“You talked him through delivering that foal as if you were right there doin’ it yourself. And we both know things might have gone bad if you hadn’t.”

He falls into step beside me as I start leading the way to the stables. “We were just lucky the baby wasn’t breach.”

I find it ridiculously cute the way he calls the foal ‘the baby’. It says a lot about how much he cares for animals, which isn’t really a surprise, considering he’s a vet.

“Even so, if you hadn’t known exactly what was goin’ on and talked Dusty through it the way you did, we’d still be lookin’ at the same tragic outcome.”

Ryan scoffs and turns to look at me through narrowed eyes, just barely visible through the polarised tint of his sunglasses. Our boots crunch on the gravel as we walk, but I am more focused on him than where we’re going. “You’re a glass half full kind of guy, aren’t you?”

“No sense dwellin’ on what could have been, is all I’m sayin’.” I shrug. “But seein’ as coincidence has delivered you to my feet again, why the hell would I be anythin’ other than an optimist?”

His lips twitch behind that sexy as fuck silver goatee of his before he sighs and looks towards our destination again. “It is a pretty great coincidence,” he concedes. He waits a beat before nonchalantly asking, “What brought you out here, anyway?”

I’ve had time to work through the pain and embarrassment of dropping everything to be with a man who lived on the other side of the planet; a process made easier because of the night I spent with the sexy man walking next to me. So, instead of brushing the question off, I answer honestly. “Well, after the man I’d hoped to spend my life with turned out to be a lying, cheating dirtbag, I looked for any sort of farm or ranch — sorry,station,” I correct myself before Ryan can, “that would have me. Rob was looking for experienced stockmen and stationhands, and I figured moving as far as possible across the country from my ex, if I can even call him that, was a no-brainer.”

We’re outside the stables now, but Ryan doesn’t go in. Instead, his expression morphs into sympathy as he turns to face me properly. “I’m sorry to hear that. But, at the same time, it is good to see you again. I, uh,” he rubs the back of his neck, and a pink flush which has nothing to do with the Australian sun climbs up his face, “I’ve thought about you a lot, actually. Wished that I’d had the balls to ask for your number, if only to thank you properly for what you did for me.”

Paying no attention to my colleagues fussing about in the stalls just on the other side of the wide-open doors, I step into Ryan’s personal space and tell him, “I’ve thought about you, too, darlin’. And there ain’t no way you’re leavin’ today without us exchangin’ numbers this time.”

Instead of balking or getting flustered or shy, like I kind of assumed he might, he grins back at me and, with a hint of sass, says, “Yes, Daddy.”

Oh, God, I forgot how fucking hot it is when he calls me that.

While I’m stuck in my pleasantly surprised stupor, he pulls away from our conversation and turns to walk into the stables with a bounce in his step.

Brat,I think fondly, enjoying the view of his perfect ass encased in denim.

“Something you want to share with the class, Ozzy boy?” Jim, one of the other stationhands, asks me with a knowing smirk as he sidles up over from a nearby stall. He’s still got a grooming brush in his hand, but Darcy, the dappled mare he was brushing down, seems to be contentedly munching on her chaff and unaware that he’s slacking off.

Jim’s not much older than me, and he’s every stereotype of Australian stockmen come to life. His accent is broad and rural, and I have yet to see him without his black felt Akubra hat. He wears double flapped, two-pocket cotton shirts with long sleeves no matter the weather, and always tan-coloured moleskin pants instead of the jeans the rest of us favour. He’s also been my mentor and has become my closest friend since I arrived at the station a couple of months ago.

His gaze follows Ryan as he makes his way to where Dusty and some of the others are still looking after Jemima and her foal like a bunch of first-time dads. “Got a thing for the silver fox vet?”

I shrug, but I’m unable to keep my smile contained. “Maybe. We’ve met before.”

Jim whips his face back in my direction so fast, I’m almost afraid he’s hurt himself. “That a euphemism for fucked?”

“Not quite, but,” I pause and recall spanking that perfect ass until Ryan came, and my smile gets wider, “close to it.”

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