Page 18 of The Barn: Frost and Q

Fourteen

F rost felt like he was about ten thousand feet tall and bulletproof.

Tug caught him on the way down to the gym. “Where you headed?”

“Work out. You?”

“God, yes.” It was easy to tell that was where Tug was heading anyway. The little son of a bitch wasn’t in jeans or boots. That meant keeping that taut tiny body light enough to float above a bull.

Him? He just wanted to be able to outrun a forest fire carrying a bear cub.

“You look happy.”

He couldn’t stop his grin for love or money. “I feel pretty fucking happy.”

“Ah, my gifts worked, I see.”

Frost nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, it was what we needed. The world hasn’t changed, but…”

But it kind of had; it really sort of had changed in a very deep, fundamental way because he had proven to himself that he could take them where they needed to go together and bring them back. A solid scene, aftercare, and best of all, waking up in the morning to a still snuggly, horny, happy Q.

He knew that the relaxation wouldn’t last. It never did, but that was part of the thing, wasn’t it?

That they had this together.

“And we’re not here to change the world,” Tug grinned at him, the lip with the scar drawing up like Elvis’s.

“We are here for sheer entertainment, man. Our entire lives are brain candy. Well, maybe not you. You fight fires and shit. Men like me, us bull riders? Fuck. We’re not here to change the world.

We’re here for an eight-second ride and to give somebody something to spend their money on. ”

Frost wasn’t sure if that was cynical, bullshit, true, or all three. “There’s worse things, right?”

“Hell yes. We could be fucking politicians.”

Frost wrinkled his nose. “Yeah, no. Come on, cowboy.”

They got downstairs, picking up Carson and Boone on the way.

“Oh, good owners, getting up to work out,” he teased.

It had been decided to be the best time for them to work out, so they just closed the gym at this hour in the morning. They said it was for cleaning. It was really just because they didn’t want to be bothered.

Carson gave him one of his patented shark smiles. “It’s good to be king.”

And they all laughed because everybody to the man knew that all a single guest had to do was ask, and they would happily give up their space at the gym for the day or the week or the whatever.

“I don’t know why I come down here with you three,” Boone grumped. “Y’all have got like zero percent body fat and are stacked to the ceiling, and I’m just a dude.”

“Yes, but you’re a dude with a lot of money, pretty good people skills, and you’re the only one who can talk Quentin down out of the trees so he can make sure that the security system gets to work.”

Boone popped Carson on his arm. “I’m surprised as much money as you spent for your workout shorts, they don’t do the exercises for you.”

“The world needs beefy men. Bulldoggers.” Tug rolled his eyes. “Dudes that can pick other dudes up when they fall down, you know? Big motherfuckers. Solid ones.”

Suddenly it hit him, what Q had said the other day. That he had seen Boone and Tug going after it. Yeah. Yeah, he guessed that was something Q couldn’t unsee, and he was suddenly pretty sure he could. Even if he didn’t want to.

“Okay, look. I’m going to get on the treadmill. No one is going to argue with me about that. The three of you can do other things, but I’m getting on the treadmill.” Frost learned early on that the guys were machine hogs.

“Fine with me, since it’s arm day,” Carson said.

“Such a little gym rat. Arm Day.” Boone rolled his eyes. “I’m just gonna lift some weights until I get sweaty.”

“That’s why you have the beef.” Carson winked.

“Nah. That’s because I’m a rancher,” Boone shot back.

“With no ranch, really.”

“Oh, I got it. I just don’t want to be there.” Boone shook his head. “Fucking blood family.”

“Always assholes,” Carson teased.

“No shit.” Frost thought of Boone’s family. And Tug’s. Neither of them were the least bit supportive. His own were mostly indifferent.

Carson’s were mostly nonexistent these days, he thought. Like literally.

Quentin’s people were mostly distant cousins.

Wow. No wonder they had all come together like they had, and he couldn’t believe it had taken him this long to figure it out.

He was a moron.

Frost hopped on the treadmill, humming, listening to the guys tease each other with half an ear. He didn’t put on his music because of it, in fact.

He did wish his lover was here with him.

He missed working out with Q. Maybe he would ask the man to do a late-night workout with him this week.

Why miss it if it was just because he hadn’t asked?

Or he could do a light workout while Q was doing PT.

That way there was no worry that he was going too hard for Q to feel comfortable…

“Now you’re frowning,” Carson told him quietly as he came to do a circuit on the elliptical.

“Just thinking of the next step.”

“With Q?” Carson glanced at Boone and Tug, who were laughing hard about something.

“Yeah. I miss working out, but I know he has issues sometimes.”

“Yeah. He never says yes when I ask.”

“I get that. He’s not too steady during PT sometimes. But maybe he’ll say yes to me now.”

That got him a glinting grin. “Maybe. Y’all have been vibing.”

“We so have.” He thought they were really re-establishing trust, and while he was still not ready to go to work full-time, he was ready to go down and do one of his first training sessions this coming week.

“You guys will take care of him when I go next week, right? At least as well as he takes care of you.”

“Shit, Frost. You know we will. We all adore him.” Carson glowered at him. “We took care of him when he wouldn’t let you.”

“I know.” He hated that it had been necessary, but he was grateful. Q had needed their friends, and they had been there.

“Is that the best you can do?” Carson teased, breaking the mood and putting on some speed on the machine.

He turned it up and started running, knowing he might not outrun Carson, but that he could run a lot longer. He had the endurance to jog half the day in full gear.

Now, that would take a lot of fuel. But he could do it if he had enough peanuts and chocolate chips.

“Woo! Owner race,” Boone called, urging them on.

He hooted, making a show of it, and so did Carson, even if he did look more like a hamster on a wheel rather than a real runner. The image got him laughing, and he had to slow down when he almost shot off the back of the treadmill.

Frost wheezed. “God, I love you jerks.”

“Ditto, amigo,” Carson nodded toward the pull-down machine. “Go for it. I have five minutes left.”

“Good deal.” He grinned, grabbing his towel to wipe down the treadmill.

He didn’t really want to go back to work, but with these guys watching Q’s back, he knew he could.