Page 20 of Candy Hearts, Vol. 2

CHAPTER 1

“I swear to God, I miss him. I miss him so much I can’t even bear it, Trapper.” Jake shook his head, gritting his teeth against the fury that just wanted to burst out of him.

Sure, it was fueled by Don Julio and blue balls and making seven-point-nine seconds on an eight-second ride, but that didn’t matter. That was what best friends were for, right? Listening to a guy explain what an idiot dick he was to his ex when nobody else would, because everybody else was tired of listening to him cry.

Not that he cried. He was a fucking cowboy.

And if he did cry, it was only because soap got in his eyes in the shower or something.

“Jake?”

He shook his head. “I don’t even know why we broke up anymore. I was stupid. I was a kid, I guess. I don’t know. He don’t need me. But I swear to God I can’t stop thinking about him. It drives me damn near crazy. I’ve tried everything. Booze. I’ve tried to get with other guys. I’ve tried . Hell, I even went to church once. I would like to note that, contrary to popular belief, I did not set it on fire walking in the door. But no amount of praying helped a bit. I still dream just about him. I still just want him. What is it about that son of a bitch that’s got under my skin so far? I just don’t understand it.”

He slammed his fist on the table watching the tequila bottle jump. Good thing it was empty, so it wouldn’t spill.

“I’m half tempted to go to New Orleans and find me some kind of a witch. Ask her to make me some kind of a gris-gris bag that banishes…”

He had to stop there. There was some things you didn’t even tell your best friend. And things he needed banishing were memories of whiskey-soaked kisses and the way those big brown eyes twinkled at him and the evil shit Treat would say in the dark of the night. The way that callused hand felt on his damn skin. That kind of shit he didn’t share.

Jake sighed. “I don’t know what to do, Trap. I just don’t. I’m drunk, and I’m lonely. My rib hurts, and I’m whining. It’s not attractive, but that’s what best friends are for. And don’t you go biting at me because you had to remember when your wife kicked you out the first time. Who called her and told her to let you back in and forgive you? I did. That was me. So if I have to call and be whiny about my ex, then you just have to sit and listen and don’t tell me that you’re having sex or nothing. Because I know better, because she’s like nine and a half months pregnant and might just kill you if you go knock it against the head of your baby with your penis. Which I tell you what, that is a gross damn thought. And don’t you dare be having sex with that poor little girl. She’s a sweetheart. What the hell?”

“Jake…”

Wait. Wait just a second. He blinked, and he pulled his phone away from his ear. Trying to focus. Which was, he had to admit, harder than advertised. However. He did notice that when he managed to read the name of the person he was talking to that his phone did not say Trapper there on the screen. No. No it did not.

Oh, fuck.

“Jake, you okay?” Treat Halloran said it just as the phone beeped three times and disconnected.

Jake had hung right up on him.

Of course he had.

Treat’s lips curved in a grin. But now he knew Jake’s damn secret, didn’t he? And he was going to figure this shit out. He was a smart damn dog. Now that he knew?

He was going to plan a campaign.

His heart thudded hard in his chest, his cock firming right up. Shit. Jake. What a blast from the past. The not-too-distant past, but still…

He scratched his belly, restlessness overtaking him, so he got up and paced. Okay. Okay, he could do this…

He would call Trapper. He knew the man well, and if Jake was still in touch with him, then he would know where the man was. And then Treat could wage a war to get Jake back again.

They’d broken up because Jake had been scared. That was what it had boiled down to.

Treat even got it.

He was older.

A hell of a lot more experienced.

Not willing to be all the way back in the damn closet.

But it sounded like Jake had an itch that Treat could still scratch. And he wanted to be the one to do just that. Hell, he wanted to be sunk so deep in Jake that the man could never let him go again.

Jake had needs that the kid didn’t even begin to know about, but that wasn’t what this was.

He’d fucked guys before that were in lust.

This was deep as marrow.

He took another deep breath, then let it out before dialing Trapper. Would Jake be talking to him now, or would he be too wigged out to even touch his phone for a while?

Hell, maybe he was passed out, although it was early for a Sunday to be drunk-dialing folks.

“Hello?”

“Trap. You answered my call,” he teased.

“Shit, man, I need some not-pregnant-wife time, though don’t tell her that.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, buddy.” Shit, Marisa would have his balls.

“No. No one will. What’s up? How’s the ranch? You missing being on the road yet?”

“Nah. I’m actually pretty good.” He was learning all about the settling down thing, even if it was necessity and not desire. “How are you hanging in there?”

“Eh, she’s about thirty months pregnant and hates me unless I’m bringing apple pie with me.”

“Well, then, always have pie.”

“You know it. No offense, man, but what’s up? You never call out of the blue. I mean not since you stopped touring and wanting a beer when you came through town.”

“Are you saying I suck as a friend?” Not that Trap ever just up and called him either. They texted weekly.

“Absol-fucking-lutely.” Trap’s response was lightning fast and had him rolling.

“Asshole.” He snorted. “I’ll Zoom instead of texting from now on.”

“Ooh…you can talk to Marisa! I’d love that.” Trap was cackling.

“Hey, at least I can’t be extorted for pie over Zoom.” He chuckled, then took a breath to get into the meat of things. “So, I reckon you’ll get a call from Jake soon.”

“Jake? Jake Greenbriar?” Trap sounded just about confused.

“Yeah. He just called me by accident. Thought I was you. Drunk dialed, actually. Said some shit…” Shit that liked to burn him to the ground.

“Oh, dude… I—” Trap sighed softly. “I’m sorry, man. I’ll tell him to delete your contact. It was just a matter of time.”

“Nope. Don’t you dare.”

“No?” Trap sounded baffled now. “Why not?”

“Where is he, Trap?”

“Jake? He’s in San Antonio at the stock show.”

“He’s riding?”

“Yeah. I mean, I saw the scores. He bucked off tonight. It was a seven point something…”

“Well, that sucks.” Shit. San Antonio. “Is he there all week?”

“Depends if he makes his second ride and gets to the short go.” He could almost hear Trap shrug. “He’s riding well enough to have a signing, but he’s gonna be sleeping on the cheap, I bet. He’s tighter than a nun’s?—”

“I get it.”

“Yeah.” Trap chuckled, the sound wry. “You going to go?”

“Yessir. I’m gonna just pop in and check on him.”

That made Trap laugh outright. “All casual-like.”

“You know me, Trap.”

“Brother, I know you. I’d be sorry for Jake’s ass, but…well…you know.”

“Yeah. I’m gonna go get him.” He laughed, hope in his belly for the first time in a long time. “I know what I heard.”

“Well, good luck, man. I wish you the best. I won’t warn him, but if you break him, I’ll hunt you down.”

“I hear it. I do. I don’t want to break him down, man.” He didn’t. Fuck him silly? Yes. Beat him a little for leaving? Sure.

But basically? He wanted to keep Jake, love him, and spend their lives together.

“Okay. Well, holler if either of you need moral support. Right now, that’s all I can offer.”

“You got it. Give my love to Marisa.” He grinned when Trap scoffed. “Bye.”

“Later.”

They hung up, and he started packing a bag.

He needed to get to San Antonio.

Yesterday.