Page 8 of On the Land, We Shoot Straight

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rady had been sitting in the booth for a while when the bell chimed above the door and Joel came in. He picked up his coffee and sipped it.

“Hey,” Joel said as he walked up to the booth.

Grady nodded. Joel went up to the counter and ordered a coffee, pitching his voice to be heard over Colin’s radio blaring country and the hiss of his grill coming through the pass. Grady placed his mug back down and Joel slid into the booth across from him.

“You get the seedin’ done?”

“Yep,” Grady replied and picked up the mug again.

“No shit?”

“No shit.”

Cheryl came over with the coffee. “Here you go.” She smiled and turned to Grady. “You need anythin’ else?”

“Nope.”

Cheryl grabbed his plate. “You wanna clear the account today or leave it for end of the month?”

“End of month’ll do.”

“All right,” she turned back to Joel. “You let me know if you wanna eat.”

Joel sprawled back against the vinyl of the booth and gave her a sleazy grin. “I’ll do that.”

“You…” Cheryl grinned at him and whacked him on the shoulder with the order pad. “Gonna get Colin out here and take care of ya if ya keep that up.” She winked and walked off, shoving the pad in the front pocket of her mustard-colored apron.

“I’ll fight him!” Joel called and laughed as Cheryl flipped him off without turning back.

Joel sipped his coffee. “So, you got some time then?”

Grady shook his head. “Nah, I’ll get these sheep movin’ and then I’ll get right to the cattle.”

Joel whistled. “Makin’ us all look bad.”

Grady rolled his shoulders and pushed the mug away.

“You ready?”

“Mind if I finish my coffee first?” Joel asked.

“Go on then.” Grady glanced out the window at the empty street.

He’d been right about the rain. Must’ve started around eight.

Cole was gone when he got up, and Grady reckoned if he was gone that early he would’ve missed the worst of it.

It’d petered out to a steady drizzle now, but that morning it’d been an almighty storm.

Dog had glanced up at Grady from his spot in the kitchen on a bunch of towels Cole must’ve set out for him, and his look said, I’m glad Lady took this one .

Grady shook his head. Cole would be all right; Lady could’ve moved those sheep on her own.

“All right,” Joel said. He pushed his mug away and stood at the same time.

Grady stood and followed him out as Joel shouted, “Later, baby!”

“Go on an’ get outta here.” Cheryl laughed and set to clearing their table.

Grady donned his hat and shoved his hands in his pockets.

He followed Joel into the rain, through the parking lot, and across the road until they were in front of the abandoned warehouse that was a hardware store back in the day.

Now it stood as a testament to the number of farmers and ranchers who’d fled on account of the droughts and bankruptcies.

Joel navigated through the rubble, and Grady followed him until they were way in the back, in what would’ve once been the storeroom. Joel turned, tossed his hat on a dusty shelf, and started to unbuckle his belt.

“You mind if I go first?” Joel asked as he popped his buttons open, sandy hair falling in his brown eyes as he focused on his fly.

“Go on, then.” Grady turned so he was facing the wall. He undid his pants and shimmied them down so his ass was exposed.

Joel came up close behind him, kicked Grady’s feet open wider with his boot.

Grady moved and let Joel push his pants down farther. He listened as Joel got the lube out of his pocket, clicked the cap. Then his hand was between Grady’s legs and his wet fingers were pushing in.

Grady grunted.

“Tight,” Joel said.

“Been a while,” Grady replied and braced his arms on the wall.

Joel didn’t mess around, just got Grady open enough and shoved his own pants out of the way.

Grady inhaled, and it sounded loud to him under the sound of the rain pattering on the tin above them. Joel’s dick slid between his ass cheeks, a hot thick line of pressure as he angled himself and rested the head at Grady’s opening before pushing in. Grady grunted and tried to relax.

Joel’s breathing puffed under the brim of Grady’s hat, parting the hair at his neck. Once Joel seemed satisfied he was in, he brought his hands to Grady’s waist and held him steady. He pulled out an inch before shoving back in.

Grady felt the invasion and tried again to relax.

“You good?” Joel asked. His hands opened on Grady’s waist before squeezing him hard, his fingers rough as he dug into his sides over his shirt.

“Good,” Grady replied.

Joel rocked back into him and got a rhythm going.

Grady breathed through the discomfort and knew it’d start to feel real good in a minute. He opened his legs farther. Joel took it as permission and started fucking him harder, his cock burying to the hilt before sliding out an inch and shoving back in.

It turned from an uncomfortable ache to a deep kind of pleasure, and Grady groaned. Joel tugged him back onto his cock with a brutal thrust, and Grady felt him start to shoot, his cock buried as deep as it could go as he shoved in on a few short thrusts.

Grady was hard, but he let Joel catch his breath before he started to move.

“Gimme a sec,” Joel panted and pulled out slowly.

Grady listened as Joel caught his breath and shuffled around.

He turned and Joel was already facing the other wall, his pants and belt tucked under his ass, his powdered blue shirt hem skimming his crack, his chest still heaving.

Grady moved in behind him at the same time as he shoved his pants down so he could get his hand around his dick.

Joel riffled around in his pocket and handed back the lube, his breathing loud against the wall.

Grady took it and slicked himself up, and it felt good; he gave himself a few good strokes before grabbing Joel’s hip with the other hand.

He brought the hand off his cock and used the excess lube to spread around Joel’s hole before sliding his forefinger in, then his middle finger as he worked him open.

He lined up, and Joel rested his head against the concrete wall. Grady pushed up and in with one smooth stroke.

“Fuck,” Joel groaned out.

“All right?” Grady asked as his hips rocked in and his hand held Joel tight at his hip.

“Yeah,” Joel breathed.

Grady pulled out and then fucked back in. He fucked into that tight heat with long, steady strokes, enjoying the feeling of a good, hard fuck. Joel held himself steady against the wall. Grady noticed he was stroking himself and huffed a laugh at his neck.

“Fuck off,” Joel panted. “Been a week.”

Grady snorted—a week wasn’t a while. He fucked him harder until Joel was tightening around his cock like a vice and shooting off against the wall. Grady followed right after, bit back his gasp, and closed his eyes against the rush as he came.

He blinked his eyes open and let his breathing steady before he pulled out. Joel hissed. Grady tapped him on the hip before stepping back and pulling his pants back up. He did up his buttons and fixed his belt. He could hear Joel turning and doing the same.

“You want?” Joel asked and tilted his cigarettes at Grady.

Grady shook his head.

Joel nodded, lit a cigarette, inhaled and blew it out on a long breath as he shoved his hair out of his eyes and back under his hat.

“You goin’ to Harvest Fest?”

“Nope.” Grady started to head for the front. They’d barely put the crop in and people were already asking about Harvest Fest. Grady wasn’t a superstitious man, but he couldn’t see the sense in tempting fate like that. Not that he’d been to Harvest Fest since he left high school anyway.

Joel fell into step behind him and hummed. “Reckon it’ll be good this year. Some city bands are comin’ down.”

Grady didn’t have anything to say to that, so he said nothing.

They stepped back outside into the drizzle and headed for the parking lot behind the diner, pausing as a big rig slowed and made the wide turn for the road that’d take him to the interstate.

“Next month?” Joel asked as Grady got to his truck.

“Probably.” Grady got in and started the engine.