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“Hippie pools?”

“Yeah. Little hot springs that bubble out. Very private.”

“Neat.”Whoa. What?He got a good fuck and suddenly he was putting out nummy snack vibes?

Huge splashing sounds reached him just before Tank yelled, “Boo!” and grabbed his leg.

He cracked up, launching himself at Tank and tackling the solid, beautiful son of a bitch.

The other guy had disappeared by the time they stopped struggling, so Tank tugged him over to a ladder. “Time to get sweaty.”

“Sounds like a plan. Good swim?”

“It was. I figured it was time to come back, though. You were attracting locals.” Tank waggled his eyebrows.

“I know. What the hell? He was talking about the river.” He grinned over, shook his head. “You ever been rafting?”

“I have. I’m pretty good at it.” Tank touched the back of his hand, just a brief, possessive contact.

“Yeah? You want to see if we can go?” His eyelids went heavy at the sensation.

“If you want to, that would rock. If you just want to relax, we can hang.”

“We’ll see what happens tomorrow, huh? Winging it seems to be working for us.”

“It sure does.” Tank dipped a toe in the steaming hot, shallow therapy pool. “Hooeee.”

He went for the whole thing, just popping himself into the water, gasping at the sudden heat.

Tank slid down next to him. “Takes your breath.”

“Uh. Uh-huh. Whoa.” He sort of loved it.

“Makes all the other stuff melt away, though.”

“There’s other stuff?” he teased.

“Sore muscles and stress and aching bones.” Tank sounded real serious for a moment.

“Yeah. Rodeoing’s hard on a body, that’s for sure.” Everyone had scars.

“Yep.” The cheerful tone was back. “Gonna be tougher if I have to fight off locals all the time.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He leaned a little and dropped his voice. “It’s like you left a sign—this cowboy likes it. I blame you.”

Tank drifted closer. “Well, I sure didn’t mean to make it open season. Just for me.”

“Good to know. I’m not available for public consumption.” That probably shouldn’t feel as good as it did.

“Nope. I got a bead on you now.” Tank touched him again, this time on the small of his back.

“Oh….”No springing wood. None. Zero.

“You okay? Do we need to go back to the other pool?”

“No. No, I’m good here.” God, Tank did it for him. Had for a long time, but now that he knew? Shit.

He glanced over, admiring the barrel chest, the fuzz that covered it. Tank was a wet dream.