Page 7 of All of Us

I had to agree, but his declaration made me feel weird because I liked the idea of being with Joe, then cuddling him all night. I shook my head. Shit. That is the exact opposite of what I want—what he wants. I must be tired.

DUSTY

Sounds really good.

Setting my phone aside, I put Joe’s contract together. I felt like I should have said more to Joe about sharing a bed, but it was probably best this way. I needed to get Joe and how good he looked with my cock in his mouth out of my head.

“Joe said he can make half the events. He already has some ideas for shots he wants to take.” I told Mont.

“That’s great. Set up a contract to pay thirty percent over what other photographers would get.” He kissed the side of Arthur’s head. “Having your brother here will be fun.”

Arthur smiled at his husband. “I’m going to love it.”

I sent Joe an email with a contract right as the wheels touched down. The idea of Joe traveling with us simultaneously excited and terrified me.

Chapter three

GENTRY

I whispered in Dusty’s ear, kissed down his cheek, and along his jaw. “You’re so handsome.” My hand rubbed his neck and worked down his chest. “Such a wonderful guy. I love that you are big, strong, and sweet.”

“Do you need some private time, Gentry? It sounds like you and that horse are lovers.”

I startled when I heard Martin Wilson behind me. Technically, he was my boss’s boss, but Martin was actually more like a friend.

“Nah. I think we are done here. He knows how I feel about him, and I will bring treats after dinner.” I kissed Dusty one more time.

Martin chuckled. He always gave me a hard time about Dusty. My horse was the most important thing in my life, and a big part of my small family.

When I was seventeen, I told my parents that I was gay. A few days later, I overheard them talking about sending me to my uncle’s house. In their opinion, because he was a preacher, he would know how to fix me. I wouldn’t survive if they sent me there. That night I snuck out of the house and went to Dusty’s house—he was my best friend and the boy I loved. I climbed in his bedroom window, and we spent the night in his bed. We enjoyed each other’s bodies in the way only teenagers could.

I recalled our conversation that night, we wanted to be together, but neither of us had money.

“I am sure my parents would let you stay with us if we told them the truth.” He had looked at me with so much pain in his eyes as he begged me to stay.

“I found a place where I can live and work. They have cows and horses. It would be perfect. You could come with me.” We lay there and discussed the options, and I promised I would talk to his parents in the morning.

At 3:00 a.m., I kissed Dusty on the temple, then climbed out of the window and headed to the bus station, where I boarded a bus for Alabama. It wasn’t that far from Savannah. I left him a note that explained I had to go because I was underage and my parents could legally take me from his house.

When I climbed on the bus, I planned to contact him as soon as I turned eighteen—it was only five months. My biggest regret was that I hadn’t told him I loved him. Dusty made me feel whole, and I couldn’t imagine a life where he wasn’t part of it.

On my eighteenth birthday, I went to his house. I hoped he had waited, but I would understand if he hadn’t. His birthday was three weeks away, and we could finally be together if we wanted to. I had checked with the ranch where I worked, and they would hire him, too.

When the door opened, someone I didn’t know answered. “I am here to see Dusty?!”

“That’s the young man who lived here before us. They moved a few months ago; they wanted to be closer to some of their relatives.”

I was confused. “Did they say what relative? What city?”

“I’m sorry, son, they didn’t. Florida maybe? Could have been Texas.” I thanked the stranger and returned to my truck.

There was no way I could drive, and I hoped the owner of the house didn’t call the cops, because my heart was crushed, and it was difficult to breathe.

I’d lost him.

In my truck, I sobbed. It never occurred to me that he would be gone, and I had no idea how we would find each other. I had left for Alabama, then moved to Missouri, and I didn’t know where he had gone. It was time for me to accept that I may not see him again, and that broke my heart.

When I returned to the ranch, I told my boss what happened—he was a good man. When I showed up as a scared seventeen-year-old, his wife immediately brought me into their home, and she told John that they would protect me. My new boss obviously did whatever his wife said. After a month, I started calling her Mama, and I never did end up in the bunkhouse.