Page 9 of Daddy’s Firm Hands (Saddle Up)

MILO

S tone never got back to me about dinner after he got me all worked up, chickened out, and hightailed it out of the kitchen.

He didn’t even take the lunch I packed him.

I texted him on the company phone he gave me when we arrived here, but got no response.

I even texted Doc, since his was the only other number in the phone. Doc said he’d let Stone know.

While sorting through the mountain of invoices and paperwork for the ranch and setting up a grocery delivery, I thought about what happened between us in the kitchen. The way his warm breath whispered down my neck almost had me panting. I felt his eyes on me, watching me.

He was so absorbed in me, he didn’t even realize I was babbling about the computer program. All my brain power flew right out the window, and I was basically trying to string random sentences together. That's how much his presence scrambled my brain. His attention throws me off…but in a good way.

When his lips were inches from mine, I was internally screaming at him to kiss me.

Full on raging for him to shove his tongue so far down my throat he choked me.

I wanted him to pull me out of the chair, shove all the plates off the table, and fuck me right there.

Or I’d fuck him, I really don’t care either way.

But I get serious dominant top energy from him, like he’d use some lasso rope to tie me up.

And I’m dying to know whether it’s true or not.

I thought I may have imagined all that tension between us, but I saw the semi he was sporting behind those tight blue jeans, which answers my earlier question about whether Mr. Cowboy is even attracted to men.

Maybe Stone saved me from making a huge mistake. I’m supposed to be laying low, and a failed romance is the perfect way to blow this perfect hiding spot in the middle of nowhere Montana. This can be a second chance at life if I don’t fuck it up.

And that’s a big if, because I fuck everything up. Anti-Midas touch and all that.

The sun isn’t down yet, but it’s 6:30. If he isn’t home for dinner by now, I don’t think he will be.

I put his chicken marsala and the brownies I made for dessert away.

It won’t taste as good heated up, but that’s his problem, not mine.

I’m definitely not feeling salty because I put all of this work into cooking a nice dinner he couldn’t show up for.

Even though he’s the one who asked me to be here for breakfast and dinner.

My phone vibrates, and my heart skips a beat. Only two people have this number…

Hey, it’s Lucky. What are you doing right now?

Ugh. What kind of loser am I, waiting here hoping Stone texts me back?

I wish it was physically possible to bitchslap myself, because I’m acting like a little whiny bitch right now.

I’m actually glad Lucky texted me. It would be nice to have a friend on the ranch to talk to.

I have a feeling Lucky and I have a lot in common too.

Nothing much, just finished eating dinner. You?

Gearing up for some karaoke. Meet us at the big bunkhouse?

Why not? It’ll be more fun than sitting here, waiting for Stone to come home. I don’t even want to think about where he is right now, because I have no business acting like a jealous boyfriend when he isn’t even mine. So I’m not dwelling on it. I’ll watch some ranch hands sing karaoke instead.

I go upstairs to freshen up. Thankfully the ranch hands seem like a laid back crowd, because I only have four outfits to my name.

Technically three and a half since I ruined one of my shirts the first time I started a camp fire.

Long story short: stop, drop, and roll really does work.

This is the kind of stuff kids should learn in school.

I haven’t had to use the Pythagorean theorem once since I graduated, but I have had to stop myself from catching fire.

I choose a dark blue tee and faded jeans with the only pair of sneakers I have.

The walk to the big bunkhouse is so different from walking in the city.

It’s calm out here, without the buzz of hundreds of people fighting for space on the sidewalk.

The wide open space and cricket soundtrack is rejuvenating.

For the first time in my life, I feel like I can take a deep breath and relax.

The party seems to be in full swing. I hear loud country music and laughter through the closed door. Before I knock, it swings open, revealing Lucky in a pink cowboy hat with rhinestones and a matching boa.

“Hey you,” he laughs, taking my hand and pulling me through the doorway. “Welcome to Karaoke Night. Guys, it’s Milo!”

About ten men turn around, some saying hi while others wave or nod.

Stew hands me a beer and another guy—I think his name is Buck?

—asks me if I want some pork rinds. Everyone is interested in how I came to work at the ranch, asking me all sorts of questions.

I stick as close to the truth as possible.

It’s easier that way, and I feel like a dick lying to everyone as it is without making up extra shit on top of it.

I can tell some of these guys have known each other for years.

They joke around, ripping on each other while laughing their asses off, seemingly fitting together like puzzle pieces, the way a family does.

The welcoming atmosphere and sense of community here is palpable.

People in the city just aren’t this friendly, ever.

They’re so absorbed in their own lives, barely making the time to get to know one another.

Now that I think about it, aside from my own brothers, I barely knew half the members of Mr. Vettore’s crew.

We all wear the same mark, took the same oath to La Famiglia famiglia , but we didn’t actually know one another.

Part of that was due to him keeping us busy.

I worked more than I didn’t, whether it was for Mr. Vettore or my father.

Another part was Piero never giving us the chance to branch out.

He had Elio and I firmly under his thumb, like his good little soldiers.

“Why the fuck are you texting Maximo?” Piero bellows, throwing my phone square in my chest. It hurts like a bitch before bouncing off and hitting the tile floor.

I pick it up and thankfully the screen isn’t cracked. Not like he’d replace it if it was though. Somehow he’d blame it all on me, like he always does.

“Why are you going through my phone?” I ask, ignoring his question. It’s none of his business what I do in the little free time I have.

“Don’t fuck with me, scamp.” That nickname makes me cringe. I hate how he always hurls it at me to make me feel as small as I am compared to him and Elio. “Answer my fucking question!”

“I mentioned wanting to learn more about cyber security. He told me he’d make some time to show me some stuff and give me some work to do.” I’ve been practicing my hacking skills, and I want to learn more, especially about financial cybercrimes.

“Why would he waste his time teaching you anything?” he scoffs. “It’s not like the family needs another hacker.”

“Actually, it does. I told Maximo I was interested. He said if I showed promise, Don Vettore would pay for classes.”

“I highly doubt you’d be able to impress Maximo, so stop wasting everyone’s time. You have a job already.” I frown at him, and his face turns red with anger. “Do you think you’re better than us? Is running drugs too dirty for you compared to sitting at a fancy desk?”

His words are as clear as day, as if he were here saying them. I feel like an asshole moving on to this new life after ending his. For only thinking of the bad times we had…even if that’s all we seemed to have.

Were there ever any good times?

“What are you thinking about?” Lucky asks me as he hands me a second beer. “You seemed really far away.”

“Sorry. Just thinking of my family. We don’t have the best relationship.” Not a lie. Piero was a younger version of my father, with the same rageful outbursts and unpredictable mood swings.

“I can relate, sugar. When I was eighteen, my dad caught me getting fucked by one of his ranch hands in the middle of a stable, buck naked right up against a wall. He disowned me. I met Stone at the Saddle Up rodeo a few weeks later and he offered me a job.”

I had a feeling Lucky wasn’t straight, because of how flirty he was with me earlier, but hearing him confirm it makes me feel bold. Like I can finally tell someone who I really am.

“I’m sorry about your family. It’s his loss. My dad doesn’t know I’m pansexual. He barely knows me at all.”

“Fuck them, we don’t need ‘em,” Lucky gives me a side hug, his goofy smile making me feel ten times lighter. “Most of us are misfits or outcasts Stone took in. A lot of us are under the rainbow, too, if you catch my drift. Welcome to the family, Milo.”

Lucky raises his glass, whistling to get the guy’s attention. He shouts, “Hey everyone! Welcome Milo to the family!”

Everyone cheers as he drags me toward the karaoke machine. Someone throws a boa over my shoulders, and before I can say no, we’re singing a duet of a country song I’ve never heard of. We may be off key, and missing half the words, but I’ve never had so much fun before.

I’ve never felt so much like myself before.

We spend the whole evening singing, dancing, and messing around. The guys light a campfire outside—without burning holes in their shirts—and tell stories about their time on the ranch.

“Do you remember the time Doc made you walk out of the Bangin’ Barn butt naked except for your hat?” Buck howls with laughter until he’s wheezing.

“Yes, it was the best day of my life,” Lucky says in a dead serious tone. How am I not surprised he enjoys walking around naked.