Page 69 of Wrangled

He flushed. “Two.” I stared at him, and he shrugged. “He was years before Kevin came to work at Salvation. He’s the reason I know sex doesn’t have to be complicated, because it sure wasn’t for us.”

“Did this guy work on the ranch too?”

He nodded. “He’d been a wrangler for maybe five years before I noticed him. Except it was the other way round. He noticedme.”

“How old were you when you and he first got together?” I bit back a smile. “He had a name, right?”

Robert chuckled. “His name was Clay. I was twenty when things first got… interesting, and he was thirty-three.” He shivered. “He had the biggest hands—and a humongous dick.”

I laughed. “Lucky you. And how long did you get to enjoy it?”

“Two years, almost three. Then one day, he was gone.”

I frowned. “What do you mean, gone?”

“Just what I said. I woke up one morning, went down to the bunkhouse, and Butch was talking with some of the guys. He said Clay had cleared out in the night. All his stuff was gone.”

“Did he ever get in contact with you?”

“Not a goddamn word.” Robert glanced at me. “I didn’t pine for him, if that’s what you’re thinking. It was—”

“Just sex, yeah.” I leaned back on my hands. “And no one on the ranch knew what had been going on with you two?”

“Far as I know. We worked hard to keep it a secret.” Robert smiled. “Probably theonlysecret I’ve managed to keep around here.”

“There’s a gap in your story. You telling me there was no one else from the time Clay left, to when you and Kevin first hooked up? That had to be…” I did the math. “Nine years or so.”

“Yup.”

“No other ranch hands caught your eye? No one in town?” There had to be a few gay guys in Bozeman.

“Nope.”

I grinned. “Not even Butch?”

He laughed. “Good Lord, no.” He peered at me. “Would you mind if we headed back?”

“Only if we continue with this conversation.”

“I’m okay with that.”

We got up, and I followed him across the creek. We untied the horses, mounted them, and then rejoined the trail. I rode beside him, the sun warm on my back, the smell of grass in my nostrils.

Robert glanced at me. “I think it’s your turn. I’ve done all the talking so far, so why don’t you tell me something about yourself?”

“What would you like to know?”

“You asked about me, so it’s only fair if I ask you the same question. Have you had a lot of relationships?”

I smiled. “That depends on how you define relationship.”

“Suppose you tell me howyoudefine it?”

I didn’t mind talking like this, not at all. There could never be too much communication as far as I was concerned, and if Robert was okay with that, all the better.

“First of all, I don’t do boyfriends. Idohave a lot of guys who I have sex with, and I’m not romantically involved with any of them.” I glanced at him. “I prefer sex to be without attachment. I’m not going to explainwhyI prefer it that way—what’s important is that I do prefer it.”

“Seriously?”

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