Still, she handed over the cracked organ to Christian. As he plundered her mouth in the gentlest of kisses, she hoped to God it would be safe.
* * * * *
Tucker slid onto the barstool and braced his elbows on the wood bar. Something sticky caught at the fibers of his denim shirt, and he pulled back with a grimace.
“What’ll ya have, cowboy?”
“Gimme what’s on tap.” He didn’t care how his beer tasted. He just wanted to pour some down his throat and slow the crazy carousel of thoughts.
How was it that a town ten hours north of Reedy boasted a bar so like The Hellion that he was afraid to look toward the back corner for fear he’d spot Christian at the pool table? And Tucker had sat too long in the local diner in this run-down town, simply because the atmosphere brought Claire to mind.
“Bit early to be drinkin’,” the bartender said as he set a glass with a foamy head before Tucker.
“Yeah, well, I intend to hold down this stool all night.”
“Just don’t get rowdy and we’ll be friends.”
Tucker wrapped his fingers around his glass and raised it in offering. “Deal.” He downed the cool beer and found it didn’t taste as much like swill as he’d expected. Above the bar, an old TV was mounted and the midday news was just coming on. Tucker stared at it through news of house fires and wanted pictures. But when the anchorwoman started relating car accidents, Tucker averted his gaze.
“You aren’t from these parts,” the bartender noted, wiping glasses.
“Nope.”
“From south, near Reedy, is my guess. I’ve heard that drawl before.”
Every muscle on either side of Tucker’s spine tightened. His shirt pulled across his shoulders. He’d stopped here to get away from home, but he’d only succeeded in finding himself a poor man’s Reedy.
What was happening with his ranch right now? There was no doubt in his mind that Christian was there, seeing to the operations as Tucker had asked.
That didn’t mean Tucker didn’t feel like a Grade-A asshole for abandoning all of his work to Christian. That burn of shame was reaching an unbearable point. Maybe he could do something to help ease his friend’s way—wire money to cover his time, expenses on the ranch, and to even hire a ranch hand.
Christian could handle it. When his friend committed, he did it with all of his being.
Had he also committed himself to taking care of Claire’s needs?
You’re the ass who shoved them together. Now man up.
He dumped the last of his beer down his throat. “Another.”
“I’ll keep a tab.” The bartender’s eyes sharpened, but he didn’t press for more information from Tucker about his origins. He probably figured that over time, the alcohol would loosen his tongue, anyway.
“Name’s Jones,” the gray-haired man said as he set a fresh beer on the bar.
Tucker pinched his hat brim. “Lan—” He couldn’t give his real name. If this man knew Reedy, he knew the Langleys. Tucker’s family owned too much land to be ignored. He pretended to belch to cover his pause. “Lander.”
Jones leaned against the bar and studied Tucker. “Knew me a Lander or two from that way. They’d all be dead and gone now though.”
Tucker’s heart pitched and rolled. Nausea flooded in on the spurs of the sharp pain. His Lander was gone too, but Jones wouldn’t mean Heather. Tucker swung his gaze back to the TV. A commercial for car insurance was on. He locked his gaze to it as if it were the most exciting broadcast he’d ever seen.
Jones took the hint and rooted around in the cooler at his feet, shifting bottles until the clinking drove Tucker mad.
“Another beer.”
“Try this one,” Jones said, popping up with a dark, longneck bottle. He slid it across the bar until Tucker could wrap his fingers around the frosty outside. The mere coolness beneath his fingers roused images of Christian. Of the man bared, cock in his fist, pumping violent spurts over his chest and fingers.
“Hell,” he muttered under his breath. He took a swig. The liquid pooled on his tongue, igniting more images of his sessions with Christian. Drinking away his sorrows was only bringing his ghosts closer. They crowded around him, pulled at his clothes, threatened to strip him.
He’d never intended to bind his emotions and sexual fantasies to his friend. When they’d started jacking off together, it was for pure male release. Somehow, though, Tucker could barely get off alone without bringing Christian into his mind.
