Prologue
August
“I apologizein advance if this is none of my business, but why are you single? You’re handsome as all get out and a great guy. Any woman would be lucky to have you. No one around that strikes your fancy?”
Willow’s question wasn’t surprising, but his habitual answer didn’t spill forth. Lying about himself was second nature to him at this point—sometimes the lie felt like the truth. Until those moments when he stretched out in his big empty bed at night and his heart ached for a pair of arms to surround him. Arms that were strong, muscled, covered in coarse, dark hair, and gripped him tightly. Arms that belonged to the faceless, nameless man of his dreams. In that quiet dark of the night, truths are easier to see, even those that we don’t want to.
“I don’t like any of the women around here. Actually, I don’t like women at all. I’m—I’m gay.” That was the first time Jeremiah Urban had ever uttered those words aloud. He still wasn’t sure what had prompted him to confess his darkest secret to the woman who was quickly becoming the best friend he’d ever had, but it was too late to take it back now. He was just tired of hiding behind a shroud of guilt and fear since figuring out his sexual orientation at fifteen. Growing up in the Midwest town of Antelope Rock, Wyoming, with a population under a thousand and full of disparaging rednecks and Bible-thumpers, hadn’t been easy. Slurs, threats, and harassment often befell those who were deemed “different” by some people’s standards. As far as he knew, he was the only gay man living in the Rock, which would make him a target if he ever came out publicly, and he didn’t think he was strong enough to risk it.
But Willow Crawford wasn’t from the Rock—she’d only arrived there from Philadelphia a few months ago after the father she’d never known, Jason Hillcrest, had passed away and left her his cattle ranch. Jeremiah had only been about six or seven when twenty-three-year-old Jason had come to work at his uncle’s Skyview Ranch, eventually inheriting it when the old man died. As far as Jeremiah knew, no one had ever been aware the man had a daughter until Jason’s lawyer had arranged for Willow to claim her inheritance.
Antelope Rock had not been prepared for the pink-haired, tattooed tornado who had blown into town, and most of the residents hadn’t expected her to stay. However, with nothing left for her in Philadelphia, after a divorce and the death of her mother, Willow had decided to build a life in the Rock. Jeremiah couldn’t be happier about that, since he felt as if he was developing a kinship with the woman. They were complete opposites in so many ways, but she was nonjudgmental, and little seemed to faze her. She was dealing with the disapproving glares and whispers from some people in town with grace and her head held high. Maybe that was why Jeremiah had let down his guard and blurted out the one secret he’d never told anyone in his life.
Their friendship had blossomed over the past few months as he’d given her advice and helped out in any way he could while she’d cleaned out her father’s home and made it her own. Jason had been an unhappy man who’d isolated himself more and more as the years had gone by. Most people living in the Rock hadn’t had a kind word to say about him, but there’d been times when Jeremiah had seen glimpses of longing and regret replace anger and resentment in the man’s eyes. Jeremiah just hoped Jason had found peace in the afterlife.
“So, does this mean we can check out hot cowboy asses together? There’s just something about a tight pair of Wranglers ...”
Jeremiah threw his head back and laughed so hard, tears welled up in his eyes. “Oh, woman, you never cease to amaze me. Thank you for that. Coming out is never easy for anyone, and you’re the only person I’ve ever told, not even my family or anyone in this backwater town. I’m sure my parents suspect at this point, but we don’t talk about it. They’re retired and live in Arizona, but we see each other about twice a year and chat on the phone every few days. And to answer your question, yes, ma’am, a nice tight ass in Wranglers is a sight to behold.”
Coming out is never easy—who am I kiddin’?
He didn’t know dick about it. He was out to exactly one person in his everyday life.
Willow.
Fear had kept Jeremiah’s mouth shut about his sexuality his entire life. Even if he wanted to come out, he had no idea how to go about it. The only other people on earth who knew his sexual orientation were the random, nameless hookups he’d been with after driving two-and-a-half hours to a gay bar in Cheyenne. Every few weeks, he’d make the trip, whenever he needed the human connection he couldn’t get with just his hand, and he’d always been terrified someone he knew would spot him going into the club. Once inside, it was dark and anonymous enough that he could relax and get what he needed—a warm, willing body with no attachments.
That night, Willow had invited him to dinner to thank him for teaching her how to shoot earlier in the day. Almost every Wyomingite had at least one weapon in their house, and many carried one on their person. Willow had never picked up a gun in her life, but her father’s shotgun had come with the house. There were critters and snakes aplenty in Wyoming, and she needed to know all about firearms and how to shoot them in case a situation ever arose when the shotgun would become necessary. She’d been a fast learner and an excellent student. By the time they’d run out of ammo, she’d been hitting the target with every shot. Besides her shotgun, he’d introduced her to several of the rifles and handguns he owned. While she might not purchase any other guns, at least she knew how to handle them if the need arose.
During their meal, after he’d bared his soul, he’d asked her if she was interested in any of the men in town. He hadn’t expected her to tell him about a deployed military man she’d been writing to through an organization called Any Soldier. Nathan sounded like a nice guy, and Willow seemed quite smitten with him. Jeremiah hoped it worked out between them, because not only was Willow becoming his best friend, but he couldn’t help but feel she was another kid sister to him. He didn’t get to see his only sibling much anymore—it’d been over a year since they’d gotten together—although they did talk on the phone at least once a week. Six years his junior, Jenna was a big-shot corporate lawyer in Denver, a long way from the small, Podunk town she’d grown up in.
As for Willow, he wanted her to be happy, and if Nathan was the man to do that, then Jeremiah was all for it. Especially after her ex-husband had called her after dinner and made a nuisance of himself. Apparently, the bastard had cheated on Willow, and with her best friend of all people. If he ever showed up in Antelope Rock, Jeremiah would take great pleasure in rearranging the guy’s face. He’d been glad to see Willow block the man’s number on her phone.
“Willow-girl, that meal was delicious, but I’m stuffed. I’m half-tempted to leave my truck here and walk home to burn off those extra calories.” It wouldn’t be a hardship, since their ranches were adjacent to each other, but his house was far enough away from hers, between her 1200 acres and his 7900, that it couldn’t be seen from her porch.
After bidding her goodnight, he drove home to his ranch. His employees were done with their work for the day and hanging out near the bunkhouse, sitting around a fire pit, and having a few beers. Sometimes, Jeremiah would join them, but tonight, he was feeling lonesome in a way that couldn’t be fixed with friendly conversation with his employees. It was too late to drive to Cheyenne, so instead, he found a pint of butter pecan ice cream in the freezer, despite his full stomach, and plopped down on the living room couch. One of his guilty pleasures in life was the Hallmark Channel. If he couldn’t have a happily-ever-after with a man, at least he could watch some women get theirs in a few sappy movies.
Toeing off his boots, he got comfortable and turned on the TV.
Chapter One
September
Jeremiah had seento his horse and taken off his chaps following his calf roping event at the rodeo in Butterfield.I’m not as young as I used to be, he thought, rubbing at his shoulder as he headed behind the chutes to watch the next contestant in the charity event. His gaze snagged on a gray hat, and he did a double take. In a sea of cowboys wearing similar hats, he didn’t know what had grabbed his attention about this particular one.
What the hell—who are you tryin’ to fool? You know damn well why he’s on your radar.
Dale Harris was the owner of that hat—Jeremiah had spotted him earlier, much to his combined annoyance and interest. As Jeremiah watched, the soon-to-be foreman at Willow’s ranch took off the Stetson and slapped it against his leather-clad thigh, setting free a cloud of dust. Jeremiah’s mind immediately began to imagine what the man’s tree-trunk legs would look like in the chaps he was wearing, without the benefit of the Wranglers beneath. The black leather framed his tight, round ass in the back and his crotch in the front. The arrogant bastard was sculpted to perfection, every hard inch of him.
It pissed Jeremiah off that, out of all the men in the world he could be physically attracted to, it was a man he’d despised since knowing him all of three minutes after they’d met last week. While the man was freaking gorgeous, his smug attitude toward Jeremiah that day had rubbed him the wrong way. Jeremiah had accompanied Willow and her now-boyfriend, Nathan Casey, to an alpaca ranch in Redworth where Dale was the foreman. The ranch’s owner had passed away, and the family wanted to sell the herd and equipment. It’d also meant Dale would soon be unemployed.
Willow had done a bang-up job negotiating with the deceased man’s nephew for a good deal that included, not only the odd-looking, fluffy animals and the equipment, but three horses, two goats, and two herding dogs. When all was said and done, Dale had also agreed to come work for her. He’d be living on her property in an RV in just a few weeks—close enough to be a maddening temptation for Jeremiah. Shit, the guy was probably as straight as they come too.
Shaking loose his wayward thoughts, knowing it wasn’t the time nor the place, he turned his attention back to the arena, where a rider he didn’t know had just beaten his roping time.
“Dammit.” Second place was going to have to do. It was for a good cause in any case. A local soldier had suffered a traumatic brain injury in Afghanistan, and the money being raised would be used for several things to make his life easier, including renovating his family’s home to accommodate his wheelchair. Hopefully, there would also be enough to buy a van he could be easily transported in. As with past charity rodeos Jeremiah had participated in, the winners of each event would most likely donate their cash prizes to the family, keeping just their buckles and ribbons. He’d already decided to do that if he came in first or second.
“You’d think a lifetime of being a closet case would teach you to keep your eyes to yourself, boy.”