Page 19 of Throw Down
By the time they headed out to their first ranch call of the day, Nate had begun to give him increasingly worried side-eye.
“You should’ve stayed home today,” Nate said as they turned down the last winding country road.
“And miss my chance to stick my hand up the wrong end of a bull?” Briar asked dryly.“It’s the most action I’ll see all year.”
Nate rolled his eyes, but he knew better than to argue.All he said was, “Let me know if you start feeling sick.”
“Scouts honor,” Briar promised, holding up three fingers in a salute.
The Triple M was their first stop.The cattle ranch was nestled at the base of the Strawberry Mountains, with a green carpet of freshly planted pasture spreading as far as the eye could see.It was one of Nate’s favorite places to visit.The ranch threw a lot of work toward Tucker, Nate's horse-trainer boyfriend, but he'd also grown up with most of the cowboys on the payroll.
They laughed and joked like old friends as they wrangled a cranky, prolapsed bull into a treatment pen.
The cowboys pinned the bull by the neck while Briar and Nate fixed a set of figure-eight ties around his legs.Sedation was a last resort with ruminating animals, but one kick was powerful enough to break their ribs,so Briar had become an expert at quick-release knots. He flitted between the cowboys like a bumblebee, ducking under their arms and securing two half-hitches around the bull’s meaty torso.
The air was crisp and warm, a heady mix of clean air, lumber, and livestock, but Briar couldn't appreciate it.The churned-up dirt clogged his throat, and the bright spring sun made his eyes water.Filth already liberally streaked his clothes. He should just swallow his gag reflex and buy some work clothes like Nate, but that would be admitting defeat.
Besides, he’d never fill out a pair of wranglers like the cowboys all around him.Their jeans were practically painted in grime, but that didn’t stop him from covertly appreciating the way their muscles flexed beneath the denim.
They were all breathing hard, their faces bathed in sweat as the bull fought the ropes.
A hoof the size of a Buick stomped a hairsbreadth away from Briar’s foot.
“Careful, little guy.” A cowboy with blond curls yanked him back by the collar, dazzling him with a quick grin before turning and setting his shoulder against the bull’s neck.
“You gonna let him get away with that?” Calvin Craig asked incredulously.He wasn't much bigger than Briar, but attitude and whipcord strength gave him the illusion of inches.Nate said that Cal had been a bull rider once—because that was apparently a thing guys did out here when they were bored.
Briar shrugged. “Size doesn’t matter when you’ve got my skills.”
“Hooo, boy!” Aiden hooted and clapped him on the shoulder.“Don’t threaten me with a good time!”
Briar winced. Aiden wasn’t a six-four monster like Derek, but it still felt like one solid whack would pop Briar's head off and send it shooting across the pen.Cowboys were just built different.
“I mean, I don’t swing that way,” Aiden continued, grunting as the bull fought his restraint, “but I could show you how a real man handles things.”
“You’d have to find me one first,” Briar retorted before he could stop himself.
So far, the crew at the Triple M had seemed accepting.They'd have to be, at least on a surface level, ever since their boss decided to shack up with Derek's brother West.But he was never certain how far he should push it.They were friendly, but they weren't his people.Not even the few same-sex couples around town.Brotherhood in the gay fraternity wasn’t enough to earn Briar more than a passing nod.It wasn’t his sexuality. It was a culture thing.Briar would always be an outsider, and so he'd always be on his own.
Unbidden, Derek's rough features sprang to mind.The man was imposing. Frightening.He set Briar’s nerves on edge and left him feeling shaky and uncertain.But strangely, Briar had never felt safer than he did sitting at his kitchen counter, slurping soup beneath Derek's watchful gaze.Derek was so calm, so capable, and even though he always looked as if he were seconds away from snapping a neck, he'd gone out of his way to be kind.
It had felt shockingly good to be taken care of, even for a short while.Just one taste and Briar was addicted.He'd do almost anything to feel it again.
The cowboy with the blond curls was still carrying on.Clearly, he found himself hilarious.
“Just one ride in my pickup is all it takes…if you know what I mean.” He threw Briar a campy wink.
“Ignore him,” Nate called, hidden behind the business-end of the bull.“Aiden's a wild dog. Never learned when to stop yipping.”
“One good whack with a rolled-up newspaper should do the trick,” Cal said, swatting Aiden on the back of the head with his own hat.
Aiden yelped. “I’ll show you where to stick that hat!”
Cal just laughed.
“Okay, I'm finished up back here,” Nate announced, stripping off his elbow-length gloves and wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his forearm.“Good job, everyone.”
“You look like you need a drink,” Cal said sympathetically.