Hard Ride (Clean Slate Ranch) Read online

  But he had time to learn more about who Slater was, deep down behind the flirty swagger and broody stares. They’d only been actual friends for a few days. It wasn’t a marriage proposal, it was sharing a giant king bed as platonic fake boyfriends, for fuck’s sake.

  So Derrick slid into his side of the bed and closed his eyes. Listened to the steady cadence of Slater’s breathing. Enjoyed the scent of his body wash until Derrick fell asleep. And when he woke the next morning, it was to Slater poking him awake instead of shouting his name. Derrick was in a much better position to help him sit up, and Slater flashed him a grateful smile as he crutched out of the bedroom for the bathroom, taut ass encased in tight workout shorts.

  A guy could get used to that sort of wake-up call.

  When Slater returned to the bedroom, Derrick asked, “Are you okay that I slept in here?”

  “Sure, why? I said you could, right?”

  “Yeah, but you were pretty loopy when you did. I needed to be sure.”

  Slater nodded slowly. “Cool. Go shower. I want to see if I can manage my own pills this morning. Maybe even two toaster waffles.”

  “Don’t burn my apartment down.”

  “Cinders,” Slater said in a faux-villain voice as he turned to leave the bedroom. “Cinders by noon.”

  Derrick laughed, grateful his choice had been the right one, and got ready for work.

  Chapter Nine

  By Saturday, Derrick and Slater had established an easy routine between them. As Slater got used to life on crutches and managed his meds, he became more independent. Even used a backpack to take his supplies across the hall to Dez’s place in the afternoons where they worked together on their individual projects. Derrick had come home last night to find the pair in the foyer, Slater hooking away while Dez hand-stitched a pair of jeans.

  The finished frog rug sat outside Derrick’s front door, and he kind of loved the cartoonishness of it. Slater had also finished the as-is kit with his own yarn, and the small cat rug adorned Dez and Morgan’s doorstep.

  Other small things began to change around the apartment, too. A set of free weights appeared in one corner of the living room. Slater’s clothes began creeping out of the suitcase and into two dresser drawers Derrick had purposely emptied and left open for him. Food appeared in the fridge and cupboards. Slater wasn’t going out shopping, so he must have been making great use of his phone.

  Saturday morning, Derrick spent an hour on his laptop doing some work-related stuff he hadn’t finished yesterday. Then he and Slater met Dez and Morgan in the foyer for a Monopoly tournament. Dez had put together a platter of sliced veggies for snacking, plus a bowl of vegan “ranch” dressing that...tasted kind of good with the red peppers and carrot sticks.

  Conrad would be busting his balls so hard right now if he knew Derrick was actually eating and enjoying vegan shit.

  They played and ate and joked like they’d been doing it for years, rather than for the first time, and for a while, Derrick forgot he and Slater weren’t actually a couple. They did everything couples did, except have sex—shared meals, shared a bed, shared friends, talked and teased and watched TV. It was so damned domestic and easy Derrick didn’t want it to be fake. But Slater hadn’t made any moves on him or made any attempts to open up about his past, and Derrick would respect that.

  Then again, it had only been a week since his ankle surgery, and he was still in moderate amounts of pain.

  Orry Thompson passed through the foyer once, earbuds in and phone in hand, and he barely spared their group a nod.

  “Does he ever talk to anyone?” Slater asked after Orry disappeared out the front door.

  “Not really,” Morgan replied. “And you almost never see George. Don’t know why.”

  “Yeah.” Dez picked up the dice and rolled. “When they first moved in, me and Morgan took them a fruit basket, and neither one of them wanted to talk for more than two minutes. They’re pretty secretive, but I guess as long as they aren’t doing anything illegal up there, it’s none of our business.”

  At noon, they ordered an extra-large veggie pizza, wings and a two-liter of cola to share. The game went far into the afternoon, until Slater had declared bankruptcy after landing on Boardwalk with two hotels owned by Morgan. Morgan and Derrick owned most of the board between them, and Dez went out a few rolls later. Derrick had never actually finished a game of Monopoly, and he wasn’t sure how it was supposed to end. Especially when all he and Morgan did was hand their wads of cash back and forth, one never quite able to bankrupt the other.

  Slater and Dez had their heads together, mostly ignoring the game in favor of working out a new pattern on grid paper—Dez’s suggestion so he could figure out his design before putting it down on the blank canvas. Made sense to Derrick, and he liked the way the tip of Slater’s tongue stuck out of his mouth when he was really concentrating.

  “Dude, your roll,” Morgan said. “Unless you’re ready to call it a draw? I feel like we could go all night like this.”

  Derrick checked the time on his cell. A little after five. He’d stuffed himself with lunch but would have to start thinking about dinner soon. “How about two more rolls each, and if nothing dramatic happens, it’s a draw.”

  “Works for me.”

  Nothing dramatic happened. Derrick sorted all the fake money into the banker’s tray while Morgan put the rest of the board away. Since they were right there in the foyer, neither he nor Morgan had completely shut their apartment doors, and the box just inside Derrick’s place buzzed. Each apartment had a call box and attached buzzer outside to let in guests.

  Who was trying to see Derrick on a Saturday night?

  Curious, he strode to the front door and swung it open. A very unexpected sight grinned at him from the porch, and Derrick stepped aside to allow his guests inside.

  “Dudes, what the fuck?” Slater squawked.

  Mack, Reyes, Colt, Ernie, Hugo and Robin surrounded their friend and leaned down to hug him. Mostly quick bro-pats but the attention left Slater obviously overwhelmed. He took a moment to introduce everyone to Dez and Morgan, then asked, “What are you all doing here?”

  “Came to see you, duh,” Colt replied. “Derrick been keeping you out of trouble?”

  “He has, actually.”

  “What is that you’re working on?” Hugo asked, pointing to the grid paper pad on his lap. “That kind of looks like what my mom would draw up before she began a knitting project.”

  “You’re taking up knitting?” Robin asked.

  “No, not knitting.” Slater didn’t seem embarrassed at all as he explained his new hobby. “It helps keep me focused and it’s actually pretty fun. So everyone can expect at least one profanity-laden throw rug for your cabin by the end of the summer.”

  “Sweet.”

  “I can’t believe you guys drove all the way out here to see me on your only night off. Well, except for you two.” Slater pointed at Mack and Robin, who no longer worked at the main ranch but still lived on the land. “How’s the house hunting going?”

  Wait, the what now?

  “Slowly,” Robin replied. “We’ve got a decent budget, but right now everything is either newly renovated or in such piss-poor condition we’re better off demolishing it and rebuilding from the foundation.”

  “You and Shawn are house hunting?” Derrick asked.

  “A little bit, yeah. Shawn and I have talked about it a lot. Getting our own place with a real kitchen so he can keep teaching me how to cook. But options are limited in the Garrett area. And neither one of us wants a long commute to the ghost town. So we’re taking our time.”

  “Not like Arthur’s going to kick you out of cabin row,” Mack said with a grin.

  Listening to Robin talk about his future with Shawn hurt a little bit, but it also helped squash the last of Derrick’s lingering feelings for Robin. Sure,
they’d burned hot and heavy for a while, but Robin was clearly in love with the ghost town cook, and they were buying a house. Definitely serious stuff.

  Meanwhile, Derrick had a fake boyfriend for the summer and not much else. Maybe he should get a pet. The lease didn’t allow anything with fur, because of Lucky, but maybe a lizard?

  “So how’s married life?” Slater asked. Reyes simply smirked at him, while Colt launched into a story about his own husband, Avery.

  Derrick hung back, a bit out of place among the group of cowboys, but happy to see Slater around his friends again. He was isolated here in the house, but as his ankle healed, his mobility would increase. They bullshitted for a while, until Dez and Morgan excused themselves to their place.

  “So have you guys had dinner yet?” Mack asked.

  “Not yet, why?” Slater waved a hand at his elevated foot. “You can’t exactly kidnap me into the city for a meal.”

  “No, but we can have a picnic. Patrice packed up a cooler with food for us, and I’ve got beer in the car.”

  “Seriously?” For a split second, Derrick thought Slater was going to burst into tears. He recovered quickly, though. “I cannot tell you how much I’ve missed Patrice’s home cooking. I mean, Derrick can nuke a mean frozen meal, but nothing compares.”

  “I’ve had her food, and I agree,” Derrick said with a grin. “You guys are welcome to take the party into my place. There are about as many places to sit as out here but the floor’s probably cleaner.”

  “Sounds good,” Mack replied.

  Derrick collected Slater’s stuff while Slater levered himself up and onto his crutches. Hugo grabbed the ugly green stool while the other guys went outside to collect the food and beer. They got Slater settled on one end of the futon with his foot up, and Derrick grabbed a fresh ice pack, because they hadn’t iced it in a while. Then he grabbed a flat sheet from his closet and spread it out on the living room floor like a picnic blanket.

  The delicious scents of food filled the apartment the moment Mack opened the cooler and Derrick’s mouth watered. With a little help from the guys, they got plates out and the food arranged. Hugo seemed delighted to prepare a plate for Slater, who turned down a beer in favor of a cola. Derrick waited until his guests had served themselves before piling his own plate high with meatloaf, mashed potatoes, steamed vegetables and her famous corn bread.

  “So this latch hook thing is keeping you busy, huh?” Ernie pointed his fork at the tote of supplies by Slater’s end of the futon.

  “It’s definitely keeping me sane,” Slater replied. “You get used to one routine, and then bam! need to find a new one.”

  “Change isn’t always easy,” Mack said. “But sometimes a new direction is absolutely worth it.”

  “Something tells me my new direction isn’t as exciting as renovating a ghost town.”

  “Maybe not the same, but it can still be exciting.” Mack slid a curious gaze in Derrick’s direction. “Sometimes life isn’t subtle about pointing us to where we’re supposed to be.”

  Slater met Derrick’s eyes briefly before glancing away. “Maybe.”

  The conversation shifted to less intense topics, and Derrick enjoyed the camaraderie between the other men. Mack, Colt and Reyes especially had an easy rapport, but they folded Ernie, Hugo, Robin and Slater into things. Reyes spoke the least of anyone, but from what Derrick knew of the guy, that wasn’t unusual.

  They started talking about hobbies again, and Robin brought up his wood carving and how it was adding up to extra cash. Said he wanted to take Shawn on a trip this summer, and Derrick grinned at how completely smitten the guy sounded when he talked about Shawn.

  Colt reached into one of the reusable shopping bags they’d brought the beer in, and he tossed a Rubik’s cube at Slater. “Here’s something to keep your brain occupied. Avery gave it to me a few months ago, but I can’t figure the damned thing out.”

  “Are those things actually solvable?” Ernie asked. “Never seen it done.”

  “What is it?” Hugo said. Everyone in the room stared at the kid. “What?”

  Slater fiddled with the cube in between eating his dinner. Derrick helped himself to two beers, using the alcohol to stay nice and mellow. Today had been...a great day. Full of friendship and time with Slater. Maybe not the hot, naked sexy-times his body craved with the man, but this was good, too. An emotional connection and strong friendship would only help sell their relationship when the first wedding rolled around.

  He made a mental note to take his suit to the cleaners next week. Hadn’t worn it in a while because the double wedding at the ghost town had been business casual, rather than formal.

  Does Slater have a suit?

  Did it matter right away? He’d never get dress slacks on over that cast, so until it came off, black sweatpants and a nice shirt would have to do. Unless Dez could finagle something for Slater. He’d have to ask.

  After they cleaned up dinner, Colt broke out a deck of cards and a box of wooden matches, and everyone except Slater and Reyes settled in to play Five Card Draw. Derrick wasn’t very good at poker, and he went out first in a big bluff against Hugo. Then he spent the rest of the game watching, listening to the conversation, and keeping an eye on Slater, who was more interested in the Rubik’s cube than the game.

  At nine thirty, Slater tossed the solved Rubik’s cube back at Colt, who gaped at him with open admiration. “Holy shit, you did not just do that.”

  Slater shrugged, then tried to stifle a wide yawn. “You just have to figure out the patterns.”

  “That’s nuts. Damn.”

  “We should probably start packing up,” Mack said. “But before we leave, we have one more little surprise for you, Slater.”

  “Another one?” Slater eyeballed Mack. “You’re not gonna kiss me, are you?”

  Mack chuckled. “Hell no, you ain’t my type. Reyes?”

  “Reyes is gonna kiss me?”

  “Smart-ass,” Reyes said. He opened the apartment door and reached for something out of sight. He brought in an angled object Derrick didn’t recognize at first. Not until Slater let out a startled gasp. It was a top-of-the-line hands-free crutch, with a padded spot for Slater’s right shin to rest on so the cast hung over the back edge, and a vertical brace for his upper thigh. With some practice, it would allow Slater to walk without the use of two crutches and with free use of both hands.

  “I don’t... Fuck.” Slater gaped at the gift, his eyes glistening. “You guys didn’t have to buy that for me.”

  “Yeah, we did,” Reyes replied. He knelt beside Slater. “You’ve asked me to stop thanking you for saving Sam and not taking me over that cliff. This is my final thanks, Slater. You deserve this freedom of movement.”

  Derrick’s heart squeezed tight with emotion as unspoken things passed between the pair. Slater offered his hand, and Reyes shook it. Held tight for a long moment before releasing him.

  As Slater said goodbye to his friends that night, Derrick noticed a new lightness in his voice. A true acceptance that he did have family back in Garrett, and a job waiting if he chose to return. And as much as Derrick was happy for Slater over that, he was also sad for himself.

  But a fake boyfriend didn’t get to feel sad over Slater’s happiness. Right?

  * * *

  Slater hated seeing his fellow hands leave, but he was also exhausted after a very long day of social interaction—almost more than he typically saw working a day at the ranch. He was also overwhelmed by so many things: that they’d come here at all, the food Patrice had sent, the fun times and jokes, and most of all, the new crutch. He was a little scared to try it, but also excited for the possibilities it offered.

  “That was unexpected,” Derrick said once he’d returned from walking their guests to the house’s main door.

  “Yeah, it was.” Unexpected and kind of awesome.

&n
bsp; Derrick picked up the solved Rubik’s cube Colt had left behind. “I’m really impressed you solved this, by the way. I’ve never met anyone who could.”

  “It just...made sense.” Slater couldn’t describe it any better. He’d seen the puzzle box before but never attempted one until tonight. “Maybe if I’d applied myself in high school, instead of being a stereotype, I’d have managed college and some genius-level career.”

  “What kind of stereotype?”

  Slater grunted. “The trailer park trash who gets his girlfriend pregnant when they’re only seventeen, so he drops out to work to support them.” Oh, shit, he hadn’t meant to say all that, and Derrick’s shocked expression only made Slater feel like a bigger fool for his past choices.

  Derrick sank down on the opposite end of the futon. “You have a kid?”

  This would be the optimal time to lie and say no, but hadn’t he already enlisted Derrick as his ride to Rachel’s graduation next month? Might as well fess up now. “Yeah, I do. A little girl named Rachel.”

  “How old is she?”

  “Seventeen.”

  “Holy shit.”

  “Yeah. The date I insisted on in June? It’s her high school graduation.”

  “Wow, man. That’s wild.”

  “That I’m so much older than you?”

  “Nah.” Derrick shook his head. “I mean, I always knew you were older but to have a kid who’s seventeen? You were a young dad, huh?”

  “A really young dad.” One of the proudest moments of Slater’s life had been holding Rachel moments after she was born. The first person after the doctor and nurse to hold his baby girl. But he had made so many bad choices after that day. So many horrible decisions that had led him to some pretty awful places.

  “Does she live with her mom?”

  “No. Her mother is...unreliable. In and out of her life whenever it’s convenient. No, my father and stepmom have full custody. She’s lived with them for the last eleven years.”