Page 11 of Saddle Studs (Rainbow Ranch #3)

BENNY

I cleared my throat. The earthy scent of hay and horse feed filled the air. Dennis was nearby, his entire head stuffed in a bucket of apples. The wet and greedy sounds of his crunches were louder than the sound of my pounding heart.

Where was this conversation headed? Was I hallucinating this?

Dreaming? Had Sam actually brought up the sexting incident from last week?

I truly thought that’d never be talked about again.

I assumed he regretted ever opening up that horny can of worms with me.

That thought had me pretty bummed, but I wasn’t going to blow up about it or go out of my way to make him think differently.

So, color me absolutely surprised when Sam joked about that night.

Surprised, intrigued, and also turned on. I could kiss him right now. Not that I would, nor that I should, but… damn, did I want to. His lips were curled into a smile that made me wonder if he was thinking something similar.

What were we doing here? Should I just break through whatever barriers were left between us?

His heartfelt and sincere apology effectively healed the wound across my heart that never got a chance to close.

He didn’t even need to say sorry. I wasn’t exactly expecting it, nor did I think he owed it to me, but boy was it nice to hear.

It also put a lot of his actions into perspective.

I’d been the one to initiate the kiss back then.

I always felt like there were a few seconds where he leaned into it, his hand cupping my elbow, right before his entire body tensed and his hand clamped down.

I remember him pushing me back. It wasn’t a hard push at all, but it caught me off guard and made me trip on a rock.

The fall was definitely more dramatic than it needed to be, but the damage had been done.

He didn’t even help me back up. He turned and ran, likely horrified at himself for what he’d done.

Meanwhile, I was horrified at myself for what I’d done.

I felt like I’d let my urges drive me and ruined one of the best relationships in my life.

I considered Sam to be as close to me as my siblings were, his shoulder was the one I collapsed into when I found out my parents were gone. We’d been through so much together.

And I ruined it. I kissed him and I messed it all up, thinking he was straight, thinking that he’d become disgusted by me.

That was never the case, though. He was running from himself, and I was caught in the consequences that came with him trying to figure things out.

Now, though, I could ask the question that had been burning on the tip of my tongue since Sam stepped back onto the grounds of Rainbow Ranch.

“I’m just wondering, are you—“ I paused.

Sam had briefly checked an alert on his watch and his entire expression dropped.

It was a night-and-day shift from the smirking and relaxed Sam that had been standing in front of me.

My eyebrows inched together. Even though it had been six years since the last time we were ever really close, I could still pick up on the mood changes radiating off my ex-best friend. “What happened? Everything okay?”

Sam dropped his head back and sighed. His Adam’s apple bobbed, his neck having been freshly shaved. “No. No it’s not.”

“Want to talk about it?” I asked.

He looked at me, his hazel eyes swirling with worry.

He bit his lip, hands stuffed in the pocket of his dark blue shorts, a sweaty bandana he’d been using to mop his forehead was tied through the belt loop.

He wore a pair of heavy-duty brown boots I helped him pick out from the shop in town, since he only brought a pair of Converse, and they weren’t going to cut it on the ranch.

He’d only been here a week, but his transformation from city boy to cowboy was already beginning.

“Come on,” I said, digging in my pocket and making sure I had my keys. “Let’s go for a ride. I have some things to pick up in town. We can get some fresh air, and you can tell me what’s going on.”

Sam swallowed and let go of the breath he’d been holding. As if he’d just broken the surface of the water he’d been swimming under. “That sounds good.”

I offered him a genuine smile and walked with him to where I parked my truck. Gravel and rocks crunched under my boots as I sped up before reaching the passenger side. I opened the door for Sam, who shook his head, almost bashfully. “Just like old times.”

“Yup,” I replied as Sam hopped into the seat.

I shut the door and walked over to the driver’s side.

I wasn’t sure exactly when it started—sometime early in Freshman year, I think—but I had gotten into the habit of always opening the car door for Sam, or at least trying to race him before he could open it himself.

It started off as a fun little game but then just kinda became habit.

Guess the habit stuck.

“Smells good in here,” Sam said. “Like vanilla.”

“Thanks. Got her cleaned yesterday. Picked up that air freshener after.” I lowered the windows, letting in the fresh afternoon breeze, and turned on the radio but kept the music low.

I started down the driveway, waving at Wylie and Boone who were just getting back to the ranch from a picnic, one I helped get the food ready for. I hoped they liked the strawberry jam.

I glanced over at Sam. He sat with an arm propped out the open window, his wavy brown hair picked up by the wind as I sped up on the main road.

I really didn’t have any errands to run but I could tell Sam needed the distraction.

He always liked going for rides around town when we were kids, especially when he had to clear his mind of something.

There were nights we’d ride through the open fields with nothing but some music playing, both of us lost in our own thoughts.

Maybe we don’t have to go to town…

I took a left down a dirt road, open green pastures on either side of us.

“I got fired from my job today.” Sam kept his attention on the wide, vast horizon. “I knew it was coming, but it doesn’t stop it from sucking major donkey balls.”

“Fuck, Sam, I’m sorry.” I moved to lower the music some more. It was at the same moment Sam was going to adjust it, our fingers touching. Briefly, so briefly.

Yet it was enough to kick off a chain reaction of sparks exploding through my body.

How could such a simple touch, such a quick moment, lead to such a profound reaction?

Sam raised the volume on the country song playing on the radio. I brought my hands back to the wheel, the sparks still coursing through me. “Is that what brought you to the ranch? Besides Dennis?”

He nodded, sighing. “I haven’t talked to anyone about this. Not even my mom, and you know I tell her everything. But, well, I fucked up, big time. I had the biggest client of my entire career—a mega pop star you’ve most likely heard of and danced to before. I thought I was set. Completely made.

Then she ends up getting into a social media fight with the Duchess of Essex. Yes, you heard that right. She picked a fight with royalty. And did you know the Duchess has a very active, and very vicious , fandom? I didn’t, until they doxed my client and started stalking her at her home.”

“That’s terrible, what the hell?”

“It’s not even the craziest part. So as her PR guy, I’m working overtime trying to fix this, coming up with ways I could mend the bridge and make the public either just back off or flip into sympathy mode.

It was a challenge, and I was loving it.

Putting out such big fires in that pressure-cooker environment just—I don’t know, makes me horny. ”

I laughed even though I almost drove us off the road and into a ditch. “I can see that. You were always a high-stakes kind of guy.”

“Yeah, well, I guess I can’t handle the pressure even though I like it.

I was running on empty when I came up with an idea.

Stupid, but I figured why not. I created a couple fake accounts and seeded them around viral videos, commenting about my client’s innocence and their personal interactions with her.

I’d then buy likes and drive those comments up. Sneaky, but I thought it was working.

Until last week, when I went around making my positive comment trail, not realizing I’d been logged into my client’s account the entire time.

It immediately blew up. The narrative shifted from my client’s petty fight to now her sociopathic tendencies of creating puppet accounts and commenting about herself.

” Sam dropped his head back against the head rest and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“Oh fuck.”

“Exactly. My client was rightfully furious. It was such a rookie mistake, right when I was about to go prime time.”

“People make mistakes.”

“Yes, and people get fired for those mistakes.”

I shook my head, wishing I could do something to fix this for him. There wasn’t much I could do, though.

“It’s okay,” Sam said, reassuring me when it was likely him who needed comforting.

“I’ve got enough in savings to cushion me for a while.

When I got the letter from Frankie about this Rainbow Ranch thing, I figured the timing meant something.

Like I just needed the break. Time to reset.

So, once I’m done here, I’ll reach out to whatever connections I’ve got and see if I can get a second chance somewhere. ”

Talking about being done at Rainbow Ranch left a bitter taste in the back of my mouth.

I ignored it. “Everyone deserves a second chance. Sometimes the first go-around is meant to be a stepping stone for the final shape of things. We need those first times, the messy lessons, so we could thrive once another chance to shine comes around.”

“Look at you, being all philosophical and shit.”

I chuckled at that. “I’ve been listening to lots of podcasts about things like that.”

“Might need to start listening to those.”

“I’ll send some recommendations along with my porn ones.”

“Ah, perfect,” Sam said. “It’ll give me something to listen to while I clean up.”

Again, I nearly jerked the steering wheel to the side. “You’re ridiculous,” I said, the both of us laughing, the tension of the moment easing.

Maybe I did have something I could offer to fix this. Laughter. Happiness. An escape.

There was also something else in my arsenal. Instead of taking us to town, I decided to drive somewhere else, somewhere much more remote and out of the way.

Sam looked around as I slowed the truck to a stop. “No way, you brought us here?”

Shit, was he angry? Had I miscalculated his nostalgia for places we used to hang out at? Did I make a mistake?

“Uh… yeah. Sorry?”.