Page 69 of His Fresh Start Cowboy
This wasn’t just two horny men getting off; this was something real. And completely different from anything Hugo had imagined between them when he first returned to Texas. But his expectations had been colored by his memory of the man he remembered from a decade ago. The Brand whose kindness toward Hugo had fueled a teenage crush. Back then Brand had been a flawless hero in his eyes, even after the incident in the hayloft. The Brand he knew today was a very flawed man making huge life decisions that would affect a lot of people. People they both cared about.
Brand was no longer his hero but an equal, and he truly hoped Brand saw Hugo the same way.
About half the organic herd went to slaughter. Brand had hoped for Prime but they rated Choice. Still a high rating for beef, though, so no one was disappointed. Especially for their first organic attempt. Dad even had one organic steer processed for their own family, stocking up the freezer in the basement. He planned on contributing to the barbecue at this year’s July Fourth picnic in town and advertising their meat. Brand liked that idea.
On the second day of July, Brand spooned up close to Hugo from behind, loving the way his condom-covered spent cock rubbed against Hugo’s crease. They’d fucked for what felt like hours, but had probably been twenty minutes, finding a brief respite from the summer heat in the air-conditioned bedroom of the bunkhouse during their lunch break. He loved these stolen moments with Hugo, when they didn’t have to do anything except exist together. Love each other.
Not that Brand had said the words yet, but he had very strong feelings for Hugo. Stronger than anything he’d ever felt in his life. He just didn’t know how to say it. Or when was the right time, while Brand was still hiding who he was from his family. Hiding his relationship with Hugo. Hugo hadn’t pushed him to define it or come out, and Brand adored him for that. But Hugo deserved better than being a secret. He deserved Brand’s open affection and honesty.
He deserved so much more than Brand was giving him.
They took turns rinsing off before returning to work. Hugo and Alan headed out to the pasture on horseback, while Brand went up to his office to do paperwork. His least favorite part of the week, but it needed to be done. The ranch had gotten a decent return on their first organic slaughter, but Brand had budgeted for more so he had to wiggle some numbers around. He vaguely heard the stairs creak, and he wasn’t surprised when Dad appeared in the office doorway.
“Hey,” Brand said. Dad seemed tense, which had been his standard operating emotion lately, but he refused to talk about why. “Something wrong?”
“Not sure exactly.” Dad eased into the leather chair across from Brand’s desk, his weight making the old wood creak. “I don’t wanna accuse you of nothing, Brand, but you’ve been different these last few weeks. I’m curious about it.”
“I’m not sure what you mean, Dad.” He knew exactly what his father meant, but Brand wasn’t about to voice it first, just in case he was wrong. “I’m happy with what we got for the slaughter and sale of the meat. We’ve got a handful of guys coming by in the next few weeks to buy steer for their families and to stock up their freezers. The wind farm is doing great.”
“That’s all business stuff. I’m curious about your personal life, son.” Dad cleared his throat hard. “I, uh, was under the impression you were seeing that pretty girl from town. Rachel?”
“Rachel Marie, but we all call her Ramie. Dating didn’t really work out.” Oh God, were they doing this now? Brand tried hard not to squirm or give away how nervous he was over whatever his father might say next. “We’re just really good friends now.”
“Hmm. When did that happen?”
“A while ago. May, maybe? I don’t exactly remember. We’re better as friends than anything bigger. And before you ask, Dad, it was mutual.”
“I see.” Dad tapped his foot on the wood floor several times before stopping. “It’s just you’ve been different since Hugo came back. Can’t really put my finger on it.”
Brand eyeballed his empty coffee mug, wishing he had something to both use as a prop to stall and to wet his now-dry mouth. Dad was poking around the edges of something Brand wasn’t ready to talk about. “Hugo’s a good friend.”
“Another friend?”
“I can only have one good friend?” He tried to tamp down on his defensiveness because it wouldn’t help him. “I never really got to know Hugo the first time because he was in high school. Now he’s an adult and we get along. I can see why he and Rem were friends for so many years before Hugo left.”
“Friends who spend the night in each other’s bed?”
If Brand hadn’t been sitting he might have lost his balance and hit the floor. “What are you talking about?”
Dad leaned forward, elbows on his knees, eyes blazing with something Brand couldn’t name. “The first night Hugo spent in the bunkhouse. You stayed with him. I was up early that day and heard Brutus scratching at the door. Let him out. Peeked inside to see all the work Hugo had done to clean up the place. Saw you two.”
His stomach twisted up tight, and he put down the pen he’d been making notes with, afraid of the way his fingers wanted to shake. “Saw us what, sir?”
“Sleeping together. Same blanket, same bed.” Dad sounded less disgusted and more confused, but his face conveyed what his voice didn’t: distrust of anything Brand had to say.
“He had a nightmare about Buck. I tried to help.”
“And lunch break last week?”
A strange sense of dread fell over Brand like cold, oily sludge. This was it. The moment he’d dreaded for ages. All he could do now was straighten his spine and square his shoulders. Look his father in the eye. His fingers trembled. “That was unprofessional on my part.”
Dad’s eyes narrowed. “Which part?”
“Sleeping with him.” Brand wanted to cry, scream, and throw up all at once, but he kept still. And as calm as humanly possible while he potentially broke his father’s heart. “I’m his supervisor and it was unprofessional.” Now or never, and never wasn’t going to happen. “Dad, I’m bisexual. And I’m...with Hugo.”
So many things flitted through Dad’s face that Brand couldn’t identify them all. He stared at Brand for a long time. So long Brand started to wonder if he’d imagined the entire conversation. Then Dad stood. His chair scraped backward so loudly that Brand flinched. Dad turned and walked out of the office, leaving Brand alone.
Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit. What have I done?
