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“Kidnapper? What?”

Cross lifted a shoulder. “Part of being in a rich family. Always someone who thinks they should get a big chunk of the money the easy way.”

Rusty had known that, kind of distantly, but considering bodyguards made it sound more real. “Have you ever…besides last summer’s thing?” That hostage-taking hadn’t been about Cross’s money.

“Not me. But when Marie was in college, one of her classmates tried to drag her into his car after a party. We don’t know if he wanted money or, um, assault, whatever, but Dad had made sure she took self-defense classes.

She bit his hand and kneed him in the balls.

He pleaded guilty to simple assault, but it left her jumpier about that stuff. ”

“I bet.”

“Plus, every now and then, Dad’s security staff turns up something worrying.” He gave Rusty an odd look. “They checked out Tyler, to see if he was any kind of likely threat.”

“You said. I was grateful.”

“Luckily, he’s mostly a pathetic loser. Although he has a restraining order against him from an ex-girlfriend two years back. My security person said she reported a lot of petty harassment, stalking, possible theft, but no direct violence.”

Rusty winced because he was the one who’d dated the pathetic loser. At least, since coming to Kansas, the texts and calls from unknown numbers had stopped. Still, he’d been stupid to let Tyler get close in the first place.

Cross must’ve noticed because he grabbed Rusty’s hand. “Bastard’s worth less than the dirt on your fingers. You’re special. I hope you know that.”

Rusty didn’t feel special, although he didn’t hate Cross saying so. However, speaking of dirt. “I’m not getting in your limo covered in hair and dust.” He pulled his hand free. “Let me go shower and pack an overnight bag and I’ll meet you at the car.”

Cross grabbed the wheels of his chair, his fingers clenching and unclenching. “Only if you want to. I didn’t call ahead so if you have other stuff to do, that’s fine.” His tone was thin and light, and unconvincing.

Rusty’s heart filled with an unfamiliar tenderness. He didn’t know why a guy like Cross would be so unsure around a guy like him, but he planned to fix that. He reached out slowly, slid his fingers behind Cross’s head, and when he seemed willing, pulled him into a long, hard kiss.

Rusty grinned when they separated. “Got nothing I want to do a tenth as much as you.”

Cross blinked as if debating how that was meant to sound, but smiled back.

“And the quicker I get changed, the quicker it’ll happen.” Rusty pushed to his feet. “Give me ten minutes.”

“Sure. Great.”

Rusty pointed. “Car. Ten minutes.” Then he sprinted to the big house, leaving the shed door open behind him.

Scott had put an on-demand heater in the house so there was always plentiful hot water.

Rusty scrubbed fast, cleaning his ass and balls, but not lingering like he usually did.

In his room, he pulled on his best jeans and a T-shirt that was now tighter than when he bought it.

He didn’t know what to expect from tonight, but there was no harm advertising.

He stuffed clean socks and shorts and a shirt in a backpack, and hesitated over the stuff in his drawer.

Lube? Condoms? That dildo he liked to play with? Cross said he liked to watch, so maybe?

In the end, he grabbed the lube and condoms and left the toy. There was prepared and then there was ridiculously overeager.

He almost ran over Nita as he charged out the front door. She caught his arm. “Hey, you heading out?”

“Yeah. I’ll be back for morning chores, I promise.” Cross’s driver would surely give him a ride, even at ass-o’clock in the morning, right? If not, he’d find a way.

“No, take the day off.” Nita tugged his arm, halting him despite their relative sizes. “Kris said a good friend’s in town. That’s a legit excuse. How long is he staying?”

“Just through tomorrow.”

“For sure, then, I don’t want to see your face until Monday morning.” She patted his biceps, then stepped back.

“You don’t mind?”

“You work damned hard. You can have a personal day. We survived without you while you were off being a hockey god, after all.”

Rusty laughed. “Hardly a god. Thank you. Seriously.”

“Go have fun. See you Monday.”

Rusty’s steps stuttered a moment at “have fun” even though Nita probably hadn’t meant it like he was thinking. What would Cross consider fun? I guess we’ll figure it out as we go.

Cross was already in the back of the limo, wheelchair stowed somewhere.

The chauffeur held the door for Rusty to get in the other side.

He scooted across the bench seat until his knee brushed Cross’s.

“Slumming it with a boring black limo,” he said to cover how ridiculously luxurious the car was. “What happened to the solid gold one?”

“Elvis was using it.” Cross reached for him and pulled him close for a kiss. Rusty automatically tensed, then realized the windows were smoked and there was some kind of panel up between them and the driver.

Okay, yeah, more kissing. As the limo started up smoothly, Rusty snuck an arm around Cross to steady them.

Cross’s mouth was hot and eager under his.

Rusty brushed his lips over Cross’s stubbled chin, then nipped his jawline and kissed under his ear.

There was some undefinable scent of male skin in that sensitive place that went right to Rusty’s dick, and he held back a groan.

The limo pulled through the ranch gates and turned onto the paved road.

Cross nudged him. “Fasten your seatbelt.”

“Come on.”

“I’m not losing you to some jerk driving a jacked-up truck. Buckle.”

Rusty threw him a glance as he fumbled for his belt and made the ends meet. “You know I drive a truck.”

“But it’s not lifted.” Cross raised an eyebrow.

Rusty went for a seatbelt-restrained kiss, then flushed as his stomach rumbled loudly.

“Sounds like we should feed you first.” Cross sat back. “What do you want to eat?”

“Is your hotel high class enough to have room service? Or we could get takeout. I’d rather not be seen eating out with you.

” The way Cross’s face fell punched Rusty in the heart.

“No!” He grabbed Cross’s hand and squeezed.

“That’s not about you. I meant any man. My folks’ church has a lot of local members and they all know me.

If they see me out on a date, they’ll tell my parents.

I don’t want Mom and Dad to know anything about me.

” He’d kept a real low profile so far. “Or they might feel mooooved by the spirit to come over and preach to me. I don’t get a lot of time with you. I don’t want it spoiled.”

“Oh, sure. Makes sense. Yes, the hotel has room service.”

“I’ll even let you pay for the food. To make up for sounding like a jerk.”

“Wait. I get to pay for dinner to make up for something you did? Isn’t that backward?”

“Will it make you happy to pay?”

“Well, yeah, I guess.”

Rusty grinned. “See. A reward.”

Cross threw his head back and laughed, and a little of the lined exhaustion eased on his face. Rusty felt like he’d scored a goal. Shorthanded.

As they drove, he made an effort to be funny, to tell ranch stories where people fucked shit up, especially him.

He told Cross about the time he vaulted off his horse to check his girth, not realizing that the ground had patches of deep mud, and he got his boots stuck and ended up riding home barefoot, with crud-filled boots and filthy socks dangling from his saddle ties.

Every time Cross smiled or chuckled, Rusty felt like he’d won a million bucks.