Page 14 of Burned & Bound
“This is your fucking job and you’re passed out drunk—”
“Fuck off. I’m allowed to drink during off hours.”
“This ain’t off hours—”
“Last night, you fucking moron!” he interrupted. “Don’t believe me? Go ask Lenny. He’ll have all sorts of opinions to fucking share. Not sure he’ll share them with the town’s gay bull rider but who knows? Maybe you can fucking kick it out of him too.”
I avoidedLucky Lennylike the plague. Dealing with Lenny’s homophobic rants and bullshit made me want to put his face through the bar.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I asked instead.
“You! You’re what’s wrong with me!” West ranted. From the liquor on his breath and the glassiness in his eyes, he was still drunk.Just what I fucking needed.“You and your stupid fucking attitude. I did the job! You wanted those goddamn horses taken care of, they are! And I did a damn good job, even with all your stupid ass rules. I figured it out, and I did a damn good job! I know you fucking know it. So why don’t you get the fuck out of my face and let me sleep! Fuck!”
He kicked the wheel of his truck in anger. There was no fucking reasoning with him at this point—not that I wanted to.
“Your ass better be fucking sober when the day is done,” I snapped. “It’s your job to take care of the horses, and I expect you to do your goddamn job.”
“Fuck off,” he muttered again. He ran his hands through his hair and scrubbed them over his face.
“Fuck this up and you’re done,” I warned him. “I don’t give a fuck what the goddamn lawyers say. I won’t have you on my fucking ranch.”
“I said fuck off,” he repeated. “Get off your high horse, you asshole. You’ve proven you don’t give a fuck about those horses.”
Anger boiled my blood. I clenched my fist and seriously considered hitting him.Oh, how I wanted to fucking put him on his ass.
“Don’t fuck this up,” I repeated and stormed away before I did just that.
Year in and year out I poured everything I had into this place, and it only made me grumpier. Some days, I wondered why the hell I didn’t just sell.Take the money and start over.Unfortunately, I didn’t have a solid reason as to why I should—at least not one that didn’t make me sound like a fucking child throwing a tantrum. Family legacy was important. My father and his father before him and all the rest had poured their blood, sweat, and time into it.
I may have been cut from the same cloth as my father, but I wasn’t fucking made for this.
It made the days long—longer than they should’ve been—and by the time I guided Zeus into the paddock for end-of-day maintenance, I was coiled tight. My guys were in a good mood, so that was something. They chatted and made plans that I quickly turned down when they offered.
As they disappeared, I stopped at the fence alongside Mickey to watch West work.Shirtless as he washed a horse.
The universe hated me—was getting in a good fucking laugh—because Jesus fuck, West McNamara had filled out fine. Broad shoulders, a strong back, and a tapered waist. Those dark jeans of his showed off muscular thighs and an ass I didn’t need to be noticing. Black ink covered his tanned skin in a wild array of tattoos. The most prominent was the pair of angel wings coming out of his shoulder blades, covering both arms, and ending in roses on his hands. Barbed wire spiraled down his spine while stars cascaded over his right side.
The nine rough scars etched into his left side piqued my curiosity, but I’d be damned if I’d ever ask what happened. So did the fact that he had barbells through his nipples—but again, things I didn’t need to be noticing.
I hated the man, but fuck me, my dick had other thoughts.Thoughts I tried to shove aside because I didn’t need to be sporting a hard-on while staring at him.
“You keep lookin’ at him like that, boy, and I’m goin’ to start questionin’ if you want to fire him or fuck him,” Mickey commented, ripping me out of my borderline dirty thoughts.
“Jesus fuck, Mickey,” I scoffed. I turned to the old man, but he just had that shit-eating grin on his face. “What the fuck made you think that was okay to say?”
“Look on back at him and I’ll take you a picture,” he said. “You had that same look on your face with Eli year before last.”
Fucking Eli.Eli was the dumbest thing I’d ever done. I maintained hard boundaries with my employees but Eli got under my skin. I hated the man, but I also couldn’t stop my dick from intervening when I talked to him. Instead of firing him on a Friday like I meant to, I spent a weekend fucking him. That made Monday real awkward when I actually had to fire the insufferable man.
“I’m startin’ to think hate fuckin’ is your thing,” he commented.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Mickey! Do you have a filter?”
“Around them? Sure. Around you? Nope.”Cheeky fucking man.“Don’t you worry, boy, all dicks need attention.”
“Mickey!” I snapped. I didn’t need to be talking about my attention-starved dick with Mickey. Admittedly, I only got laid a few times a year while on the road with the League. And I was real fucking careful when I did that. I didn’t fuck around when it came to my employees, and Wood Springs was so goddamn small that I was fairly certain I was the only gay man in town—at least openly anyway.
Except for maybe West, but I didn’t have a fucking clue what he was.And I didn’t want to think about it either.