Page 38 of Burning for Alexander
DrunkenPoet:Should I send you photos of my meatloaf?
IndexEcho:If only that was a euphemism for something much better.
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I’d doneeverything in my power to send Chief Kincaid the message that I was into him. I’d even cleared up the misunderstanding about a previous meeting. And still… rejection.
Not gonna lie, it stung like a bitch. But I was a grown man, and I could take it.
But I was sick and tired of being rejected. And yes, I realized I wasn’t actively rejected byIndexEcho. Chances were high that he was killed. Regardless, it was time to move on. Watching Monroe flirt with Kincaid reminded me that I would’ve appreciated beingon the receiving end of that attention, and my sister had even tried to make that happen for me earlier in the summer.
“Can I find a hookup in Billings, or do I have to use an app?” I asked my cousin Lennon while helping him load feed into his truck at Palmer’s Feed and Seed on the edge of town.
Lennon glanced up at me like a deer in headlights. “How would I know?”
I rolled my eyes. “Listen. You can play recluse monk to the rest of the family, but I know you hook up. What I don’t know is how or where.”
He grunted and went back to the stack of feedbags on the pallet. “In summer, it’s easy since the tourists are here. In winter… it depends. You either find someone local like Nate Lewis, who’s usually up for a quick fuck with no strings, or you head to Billings, Bozeman, or Missoula. I usually need something from Costco anyway, so I kill two birds.”
I squinted at him. “That’s your idea of a Costco run? Bulk laundry detergent and a quick beej?”
He shrugged. “Honestly, if you want to stay in Legacy, there’s usually someone up for it at SERA. I just don’t like to fuck around with Trace’s guys too much in case people start talking.”
“And since you need ten pounds of almonds and a three-pack of mustard, might as well, right?”
The edge of his lip quirked up a little in his version of a wide smile. “Convenience comes in many forms, Alex. Don’t knock it.”
I watched him load the truck with his broad shoulders and big arms under a wash-faded cotton tee with a barely visible “Legacy Beef” logo on the back. My cousin was a catch. Fit and good-looking, an all-American rancher. Son of a famous country music star—though that part he kept as close to the vest as possible. It was one of the reasons he’d moved to Montana. To hide out on his ranch and work.
“Why don’t you date?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Don’t have the time.”
“Bullshit. You’re a multimillionaire. You could hire people to take some of that load off you in a minute. Tell me the real reason.”
He didn’t take his eyes off the bags of feed as he started a new stack in the bed of the pickup. “One too many people more interested in who my papa is than who I am.”
“Fair,” I said on a sigh. “I’m sorry for that. It’s bullshit.”
He shrugged again, but I could tell it was more serious than he let on. His older brother, Wolfe, didn’t date either, but we were all convinced it was for a different reason. Wolfe had been obsessed with his dad’s best friend, Trace, who also happened to be here in Legacy, for as long as anyone could remember.
“So back to hookups,” I said. “Can I find someone without the apps?”
Another shrug. “If you go to Billings and try to do it old-school, just remember what Uncle Beau says. You get what you get, and you don’t pitch a fit.” Then he looked over at me and winked. “Or stay local. It’s still tourist season enough. Just try and find someone who’s only in town for the night so if it sucks, you don’t have to see the guy the next day at Timber.”
I groaned. “I hadn’t thought of that. Fuck. I think I’ll try Billings.”
“Why don’t you let Ella fix you up? There’s a guy at work she’s always talking about. She knows a lot of the guys at SERA, too.”
“No, thanks. I don’t need my sister in my sexual business.”
Of course, Morris Watt walked by right as I said that. His bushy eyebrows lifted and dropped. “Mornin’, Mr. Watt,” I called, trying not to act guilty.
As soon as he got into his old truck and lumbered out of the lot, Lennon chuckled softly. “You act like you’re not allowed tohave sex. You’re a grown-ass man, Alex. And you can’t seriously tell me you haven’t had sex in the three years you’ve lived here.”
Okay, so maybe I was more of a liar than I thought.
“No, pfft. Of course not. I just… You know. Various other… like… that time we went back to California for Christmas. Or, um, when we have… tourist visitors or whatever. You know? So.” Now it was my turn to shrug. Like it was no big deal. Like I was some kind of playboy.
