Fire in the Hole Read online

  He smiled. “Yes.”

  She closed the gap, kissing him, knowing this was stupid and frankly not caring. “How do you look in a kilt?” she mumbled against his lips.

  “I don’t know,” he mumbled back. “I’ve never worn one before, but I suspect I’m about to be ordered to.”

  They’d ended up with her on top, him on the couch. She sat up, bracing a hand against his chest. “And if I order you to wear one?”

  He caught her hand and pulled it to his lips, kissing it. “I’m a good boy. I do what I’m told. Long as it doesn’t mess up work or interfere with my son.”

  “Oh, gawd, no,” she agreed. “And as horrible as this might make me sound, I really want to sleep with you right now. So please tell me no, not tonight.”

  He kissed her hand again. “Would you settle for a foot rub, then? While we get to know each other?”

  A soft moan escaped her. “What’s the other shoe?”

  “Ma’am?”

  “The other shoe that’s going to drop. You have bodies buried in your backyard? Your ex is boiled-bunny crazy? The house is haunted by a ghoul that needs a fresh sacrifice and I’m it?”

  He smiled. “I’m a single dad with a fourteen-year-old son who’s about to turn fifteen, I’ve always had to be wary of women who were too eager to run after me when they found out I’m rich, and usually when I tell them I’m submissive, they run away because they have the totally wrong idea about what that means to me.”

  “I’ll settle for a foot rub tonight.” She sat back on her heels, feeling a rush of excitement she hadn’t felt in…

  Since she and Ev had first met.

  Certainly not something she’d ever felt with Steve.

  And isn’t that sad?

  She’d kicked off her shoes when they’d arrived. As she started to present her feet to him, she pulled back. “Kids.”

  “What about them?”

  She tucked her feet under her, cross-legged. “How do you feel about kids?”

  He frowned. “Pro, considering I have one. Not sure what you mean.”

  She swallowed hard. “Hypothetically, how would you feel about more?”

  He sat up, facing her. “I’d always wanted more kids.” His head took on a curious tilt. “I wouldn’t have thought your ex-fiancé to be much of the kids kind.”

  “He wasn’t. I’d pretty much resigned myself to not having any.”

  “Okay, so all kidding aside, let’s be serious for a moment.” He held out his hands to her and she only hesitated for a moment before putting hers in his. “Let’s assume best-case scenario. Mark’s okay with this, you move in, we get along, and things…progress. Five years from now. Where would you see us?”

  His brown gaze intently peered into her soul, it felt like. No bullshit.

  No bluster.

  “Happily married with one or two more kids, and Mark,” she softly said.

  “Still living at the ranch?”

  “Still living at the ranch, but we’ll need to figure out how I’m going to work, because I won’t quit my job.”

  He smiled. “Don’t want to be a kept woman?”

  “Not kept down, no.”

  He leaned in and brushed a kiss across her lips. “Lucky for you, I enjoy being a stay-at-home dad. I won’t sell or leave the ranch. It’s my home, and it’s Mark’s home. We’ll have to work around my freelancing, on occasion.”

  “Agreed.”

  “You mind helping out with chores from time to time?”

  “We talking doing laundry or birthing cows? Because, sorry, not sorry, I’m not sticking my hand up a cow’s cooter for love or money.”

  He laughed. “Around the house.” He glanced at the living room. “I suspect you’re not a secret hoarder.”

  “You won’t laugh at my Deadpool pj’s, will you?”

  His eyes widened. “Where did you get Deadpool pj’s?”

  She squeezed his hands. “We’re starting to sound like we’re in a relationship already.”

  “We are, aren’t we?”

  “No smoking. No illegal drugs. No excess drinking. You cheat on me, you’ll see me at a level of meanness that’ll make my restaurant performance look gentle.”

  He winced. “Please tell me you like or are okay with guns?”

  “I am, in responsible and sober hands.”

  They stared into each other’s eyes for a long, quiet moment.

  “Then it kind of sounds like we’re talking about a relationship,” he said. “Thank god we’ve got a teenager who can chaperone us until we get to know each other better.”

  “Being a responsible adult is a real bitch sometimes.” She smiled.

  “Yeah. Tell me about it.”

  Chapter Four

  Brad lay in bed Thursday morning, five minutes before his alarm was to go off, and listened to the sound of Mark already up and about in his bathroom.

  First barrier…passed.

  When he’d talked to Mark last night after his return from Lara’s, Mark had eagerly been on board with the plan…

  Almost as if there was something Brad didn’t know going on in the background.

  Well, something beyond what Brad suspected was already going on.

  But how do you come out and ask your son, who was almost fifteen, if he was gay?

  Especially when you might be wrong?

  Not that he minded or cared. His main concern was that if Mark and his “friend” Jacob were involved, he worried about their general safety, and other…issues. He’d had the obligatory responsible parent talk about reproduction with Mark a couple of years earlier after Mark had asked the question. At least being raised on a working ranch, Mark knew the mechanics of biology.

  He’d brushed over the topic of sexual orientation with the lightest of brushes, trying to keep the discussion age-appropriate at the time. It wasn’t good or bad in his mind, it just was. Although there were people out there not nearly as understanding or tolerant.

  He hoped the way he lived his life spoke to his son about how he viewed the world. Like how he interacted with Everett and Wylie.

  But he also hadn’t gotten into a more in-depth discussion with Mark at the time about things like HIV and other STIs that Mark would need to know about, straight or gay or otherwise oriented.

  Brad finally got up and shut off his alarm before it went off. His time spent talking with Lara last night had felt amazing. He’d never had such an instant rapport with someone before. Even with Breanna.

  He could spend all day staring into her hazel eyes. His good luck that Steve was an asshole and she dumped him.

  No way would he be a stupid fuckwit and screw up.

  From the way she’d been so willing to accept his admission about wanting a female-led relationship, it made him suspect she wasn’t a stranger to D/s dynamics. Maybe even Everett and Wylie had that. He wasn’t sure, it was simply an educated guess based on what he’d seen and heard between the two men.

  Scary easy. That’s what this was.

  But no way would he turn his back on the chance.

  She could finally be the perfect woman for him. Maybe this was all meant to be?

  She had her own life, so she wasn’t some mooch looking for a free ride. Independent and strong-willed without being a bitch.

  Except to Steve, who totes deserved bitchiness after how he’d acted.

  Even not knowing Lara very well yet, Brad knew and trusted Wylie and Everett. They seemed to be good men. The fact that Everett and Lara were still friends and obviously still cared about each other spoke volumes.

  This was definitely worth giving a chance.

  If nothing else, he and Mark would have a third person hanging around for a while to make the place a little less lonely. Make that a fourth person, counting Jacob’s increasingly frequent visits.

  He made his way out to the kitchen where Mark had already started the coffeepot for him. He heard Mark’s shower running and as he poured himself a cup of coffee, he leaned against the co
unter and tried to see what the bad side to this could be.

  Not much.

  Even Lara admitted if it didn’t work out, she knew she could probably ask Everett to borrow the Tin Can for a few weeks until she got a new apartment. Or she’d get herself a hotel room, or stay with Everett’s sister.

  She had options, and had even offered to back things up, if he wanted, and use one of them instead of moving in with him and Mark.

  At least she enjoyed the foot rub.

  He smiled to himself, wondering if the moans of pleasure she made as his fingers massaged her feet were anything like the moans of pleasure he’d love to draw from her in bed.

  He’d also taken a long, hot shower before bed last night so he could rub one out.

  Mark emerged from the bathroom and walked into the kitchen. “Hey, Dad?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I was thinking more about Lara moving in.”

  Fear curled through him. “Yeah?”

  “I still like the idea.” He opened the fridge to get milk for his cereal.

  He relaxed. “You don’t mind me going out to dinner alone with her tonight?”

  “No. We’re still having dinner at Ev and Wy’s tomorrow night, right?”

  Brad studied his son as Mark poured his cereal into his bowl. This was the something else he suspected was going on, although he wasn’t yet quite sure what it meant.

  “Sure. Jacob still coming?”

  “Yeah. He’s looking forward to meeting Lara.”

  Are. You. Gay?

  It was the question he desperately wanted to ask and didn’t know a good way of asking. He could only hope if he was right that Mark would eventually come out to him and trust him to support him.

  “Good. Is he still spending the night tomorrow night?” He hadn’t yet caught them doing anything that he could use as a logical segue into a discussion. Nothing more than a few whispered conversations, unless the boys had snuck out once he’d been asleep. Not very likely, since he was a very light sleeper himself.

  “If it’s okay with you. We’re going to go horseback riding Saturday after I’m done at Wylie’s. I told Wy I’d ride the fence line for him.”

  “Yeah. That’s fine. Just remember to give Jacob Hera. She’s the gentlest. I don’t want him getting hurt.”

  “I will.”

  Once Mark was out the door to Wylie’s to take care of his chores there before catching the bus, Brad retrieved his phone and considered sending Lara a good-morning text.

  Except it was still not quite six in the morning yet. One thing he didn’t know about her, despite how long they’d talked last night, was if she was a morning person or not.

  Maybe I’d better wait a little bit.

  * * * *

  Thursday morning, Lara drove to work feeling…

  Light.

  Lighter than she had in a long damn time.

  Which was another sad statement about her relationship with Steve, wasn’t it?

  Fortunately, she didn’t have anything at his place she was worried about losing. Maybe a pair of shoes and some toiletries, but she hadn’t left anything there, and he hadn’t left anything at her place.

  Didn’t that say something about them, too?

  The one main thing she still worried about, however, was due to the discussion she’d had on the phone with Everett last night after Brad had left.

  Everett told her Mark confessed he was gay, and wanted their help breaking it to Brad. A dinner at Ev and Wylie’s house tomorrow night, so that she could be there to take Mark’s boyfriend Jacob home in case things went badly.

  Everett’s hope was that, based on Brad’s reaction to Steve’s comments at the restaurant, and his previous behavior, that he’d be okay with it. Still, Mark was scared and Lara loved Everett for wanting to help the kid out.

  But if Brad turned out to be an asshole after all…

  That would basically mean things ending between them before they even started.

  When she arrived at work, the receptionist smiled.

  “Wow. You look like a happily divorced woman.”

  “Met a great guy last night.”

  Tawny frowned. “Um…what?”

  Lara held up her bare left hand and wiggled her fingers. “Yeah. It’s that confusing.” Tawny followed her to her office as Lara told her the basics.

  “So…let me get this straight. You told your rich doctor fiancé to fuck off, and let a guy you just met take you home? And you’re going out with him tonight?”

  “Not a random stranger. My ex knows him.”

  “Is that the scruffy guy who came in here a while back to talk to—”

  Lara whirled on her, pointing a warning finger at her. “Do not. He works hard for a living. He’s a good man, a talented man. He’s ten times the man Steve is.”

  Tawny arched an eyebrow at her. “And gay.”

  “Is this going to be a problem?”

  Tawny held her hands up in surrender. “I call them like I see them. You want me to tell you hell, no, it’s not at all crazy for you to be ditching a rich doctor for a Florida cowboy? Sure.”

  “An even richer doctor, thank you very much.”

  “Say what?”

  Lara relished the look of shock on Tawny’s face as she filled in that little blank.

  “Oh. Well, why didn’t you say that to start with?”

  “Because his income bracket is irrelevant. You can’t buy a good soul or nice personality.”

  Once Tawny had returned to her desk, Lara sat behind hers and opened her e-mail. That’s when her phone buzzed from an incoming text.

  Brad.

  Thanks for last night, ma’am. Looking forward to tonight.

  She sighed. Oh, fuck me, he even uses proper English in texts!

  One of her pet peeves was text abbreviations, which, shockingly enough, Steve insisted on using, claiming he was a busy man.

  It had taken her three weeks of refusing to respond to Steve’s texts to get him to stop using those stupid abbreviations with her. That had been a hard-won battle, to be sure.

  Another clue I ignored.

  She stared at Brad’s text and re-read it several times, trying to decide how to respond.

  Fuck it, we decided not to play games with each other.

  She typed.

  I enjoyed it, too. I’m also looking forward to tonight.

  That’s when Everett texted her.

  Mark said we’re on for dinner here tomorrow night.

  Cool.

  Fear crept in again. Logically, she hoped Brad would be okay with Mark’s revelation. She also felt a little weird that she knew something about Brad’s son that he didn’t know.

  Especially something this major.

  She switched back to her thread with Brad.

  What do I wear tonight?

  Something nice. Your preference, ma’am. Dressy.

  This would be a welcomed change from Steve either outright or silently judging her every move. No more of him arching an eyebrow at some fun, flirty dress that Ev had loved her in.

  No more lectures about how a woman in her profession shouldn’t dress “like that” because it could set the wrong “tone.”

  And she had several outfits she would be donating to charity during the move. Outfits Steve had insisted were “better for her.”

  More “mature.”

  Jesus fucking shitballs, what the hell happened to me?

  She wondered if this was what people felt like after escaping cults. In retrospect, while she’d thought Steve was good in bed, he hadn’t been that good.

  Not when combined with the sexual tension she’d felt last night just from a couple of kisses and a foot rub that might have been PG-13 on the outside, but certainly triggered X-rated sensations in her panties.

  * * * *

  Lara had just returned from lunch when her personal cell rang.

  Steve.

  Already regretting it, she answered his call. “Yes?”

  There
was a slight hesitation. “Are you ready to talk like an adult?”

  That only reinforced her decision. “Since you’re apparently not ready to quit acting like an asshole, that would be a no.”

  “You can’t treat me like this. You need to talk to me.”

  “Why? I thought I was perfectly clear last night.”

  “You can’t tell me you’re simply going to walk away from someone like me!”

  She rolled her eyes, even though she was alone in her office. “That’s exactly what I’m telling you.”

  She noticed he hadn’t even bothered to try to text her last night to see if she got home safely. Which was fine, but his words this morning rang exceptionally hollow as a result.

  “Look, fine, you want to hang around with those people, we can—”

  “What part of we’re over did I not make clear to you last night? And ‘those people’ have names.”

  “I know yesterday was stressful for you, but you acted like an immature brat.”

  “I acted like a brat? For starters, I asked you not to come. You are the only thing that was stressful for me yesterday, you and your attitude.”

  “I saw the way that guy was looking at you last night.”

  “You mean Doctor Jarred?” Yeah, she’d admit that was an immature dig, but he deserved it.

  “You know I have contacts and can help you out in Sarasota. At the fundraiser on Saturday night you will be able to meet some of the area’s biggest names.”

  “I don’t need your help, thanks.”

  “You mean you’re going to turn down a chance to be married to someone as rich as me?”

  She snorted despite the increasingly creepy vibe the conversation was taking. “I don’t know how much more plainly I can say it, but yeah. Besides, you aren’t the only rich man in the area. Far from it, and there are plenty far richer than you, not that money is my goal. I wish you well, but we’re through. Have a good life.”

  He’d started to say something else about Brad when she ended the call and then went in and immediately blocked his number.

  That was…weird.

  Honestly? She had no idea why Steve would call and act like that. He didn’t strike her as the forgive and forget kind of guy, either. There’d been no ambiguity in her words last night, as far as she could remember. And she’d given him the ring back, so it wasn’t like he had that to hold over her head.