Page 24 of Rust and Stardust

I mentally checked myself for having any concern for this stranger, not that it did any good. When I went over to Beau’s house for riding lessons, I fully intended to weasel my way into his trustand steal his recipes from him with no concern for his feelings. But after he’d saved me from that runaway horse and the way he held me in his arms as I fought to regain control of myself… well, things changed after that. Now I found myself worried about him, concerned for him, and worst of all… liking him. And the quick blowjob in the back of his truck only made those feelings stronger.

“You doing alright, cowboy?” I asked as we walked through the carnival rides and headed toward the food trucks on the far side of the fair. “You’re awfully quiet.”

Beau's blue eyes flickered to meet mine for just a moment before darting away again. He cleared his throat, his voice low when he finally spoke. “I'm alright. Just... not used to all this attention, I reckon.”

I nodded, trying to understand. It was hard to imagine someone as ruggedly handsome as Beau being uncomfortable with attention, but the way he acted so shy when he had every reason to brag tugged at my heartstrings.

“We could find a quieter spot if you'd like,” I offered, gesturing towards a less crowded area near the edge of the fairgrounds.

Beau seemed to consider it for a moment, then shook his head. “Nah, it's fine. I promised to show you around, didn't I?” He managed a small smile, though it didn't quite reach his eyes.

“Something else bothering you?”

He glanced up at me again, his eyes giving it all away.

“They can’t tell, you know,” I replied, keeping my voice low. “I promise. And I won’t give you away. I know what it’s like to be in the closet.”

“I’m not in the closet,” he shot back quickly.

I lifted an eyebrow, but didn’t contradict him. As much as I wanted him to be comfortable, that was something he had to sort out on his own in the end. “Well, I guess show me to the food first because I’m starving.”

As we approached the food trucks, the aroma of sizzling meats and fried southern delicacies filled the air. Beau'sshoulders seemed to relax a bit, his stride becoming more natural as we weaved through the crowd.

“What're you in the mood for?” he asked, his deep drawl sending a shiver down my spine.

“Surprise me,” I replied with a grin. “You're the local expert, after all.”

Beau's lips quirked up in a half-smile, the most genuine expression I'd seen from him since we left his truck. The tension in his shoulders seemed to melt away as he guided me off the midway down a side alley. From there he led me to a weathered food truck adorned with hand-painted cacti and longhorns covering everything but the menu.

“Two of the usual, Marge,” Beau called out to the older woman inside.

“Coming right up, sugar!” she replied with a wink. “And who's this handsome fella you got with ya? Single I hope?”

Marge was easily in her late fifties with a big toothy grin, permed brown hair straight out of the eighties, and lipstick the color of blood. If she donned a sweatband and leg warmers, she’d look like someone out of an old workout tape.

“I’m from out of town,” I replied, ignoring the part about my relationship status. “Came in for the fair to scope out all the food here for my marketing firm back in New York.”

Her eyes lit up. “Well bless my soul! A real live New Yorker!” She was suddenly completely unconcerned with making food and swung all her attention on me as if I could make all her wildest dreams come true. “I’ve always wanted to go to New York and see what high society looks like!” She reached up, fluffing her hair. “Maybe I’ll get discovered and end up on Broadway or somethin’! Do you know any producers, honey?”

“I’m afraid I don’t,” I grinned back, chuckling at her enthusiasm. Her reaction wasn’t uncommon. Everyone had big dreams of moving to the city and getting famous. “I’m just a lowly marketing agent atmy company. I only know my coworkers and the hot dog guy I buy lunch from once in a while.”

Her smile remained, but I could see some of the sparkle leave her eyes. “Well, I suppose we all gotta start somewhere, huh? Who knows? Maybe you’ll be a big producer someday yourself!”

I just laughed, not really sure how to respond to that.

Beau cleared his throat, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Marge, darlin', I think we're holdin' up the line.”

I glanced behind us to see a small crowd forming, their eyes fixed hungrily on the food truck. Marge's cheeks flushed as she realized her distraction.

“Oh, goodness me! You're right, Beau. Two usuals comin' right up!”

As Marge busied herself with our order, Beau leaned in close, his breath warm against my ear. “Sorry 'bout that. Marge gets a little excitable 'round new folks.”

His proximity sent a shiver down my spine, and I had to resist the urge to lean into him. “No worries,” I murmured back. “She seems sweet.”

Beau nodded, a fond smile playing on his lips. “Known her since I was knee-high to a grasshopper. Makes the best damn brisket tacos you'll ever taste.”

As if on cue, Marge reappeared with two paper baskets, each filled with what looked like heaven wrapped in a tortilla. The aroma of smoky meat and spices made my mouth water instantly.

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