Once is enough to make me question my sanity, because in what fucking world is it normal to blow a massive load when you realize you’re being spied on in your own house, and by your brother-in-law, of all people? Just how touch starved have I gotten ifthat’swhat revs my engine?
Thankfully, by the time I get out of the shower—after waiting an absurd amount of time for my erection to deflate—get dressed, and head downstairs, Grady is finishing up putting the breakfast dishes in the dishwasher, calling out that he has to go get ready for work. When he leaves, Suzy and I run a few errands before we stop at Lou’s for lunch. Ginny has been asking to see her the past few times I’ve been in, so I figured today would be a good opportunity since we’ve got nothing major going on.
Once we’re finished with lunch, we stop by my folks’ place. My mom texted me the other night that she picked up a few outfits for Suzy during her trip to Sam’s Club in Cheyenne last weekend. Suzy hangs out with my mom while my dad and I take a look at the new fishing boat he just got. Now that he’s retired, he buys all kinds of toys, which drives my mom nuts. Last month, he bought some piece-of-shit car he apparently plans to rebuild and sell. Before that, he decided to take up hunting—something he hasn’t ever done. He went on a hunting trip last winter with a couple of buddies.
I honestly just think he’s bored. Growing up around the rodeo, and then going pro, you’ve always got stuff to do. Training, working out, traveling to different arenas. There’s not too much downtime, even in the off season. I’d imagine going from a lifetime on the go to a life of quiet retirement is enough to make somebody go a little stir crazy.
By the time Suzy and I get home, it’s time to start dinner. Not really wanting to do much, I decide to whip up a pot of spaghetti. Luckily, I pulled some ground beef out of the freezer before we left this morning, otherwise we’d be shit out of luck. Grady still isn’t home by the time we eat, but I set aside a plate for him to have later.
After dinner, Suzy curls up on the couch with Mabel, watching a movie while I clean the kitchen. Once I’m finished, I toss Suzy in the bath for a quick scrub down before getting her ready for bed.
“Can you read me a story before I go to sleep, Daddy?” she asks as I’m tucking her under the covers.
“Yes, princess, but only one.” Suzy has this innate way of weaseling seven stories and three bedtime songs out of me before I even realize what’s happening.
“Okay, but can you lie with me while you read?” The puppy dog eyes and the pouty lip have returned, and I breathe out a laugh.
“Fine,” I grumble as I climb in next to her.
I don’t know what happens, but one moment, I’m reading her a story about a princess in the forest, and the next, I’m peeling my eyes open, taking in the darkness covering the room.Shit.I must’ve fallen asleep mid-story. Glancing over, even in the darkness, I can tell Suzy is out cold. Mabel is at our feet, and I’m somehow able to maneuver myself out of the bed without disturbing either of them. Reaching into my pocket, I pull out my phone to check the time.
Damn, it’s after nine. I was out for a while.
Yawning, I stretch my arms over my head in the hallway before padding downstairs in search of something to drink. My mouth is dry as hell. As soon as my feet leave the bottom step, Grady comes to mind. Is he home yet? The house is dark, so maybe not. Once in the kitchen, I keep the lights off, grabbing a glass out of the cupboard. In front of the sink, I’m about to turn the faucet on and fill the cup, when something outside catches my eyes.
The window above the sink overlooks the patio. The porch light is off, but I can see the glow from Grady’s laptop sitting in his lap. He’s wearing a black zip-up jacket, the hood pulled up over his head, and a pair of dark, plaid pajama pants, his legs lifted up into the chair in front of him. His back is to me, so there’s no way he could see me, especially given how dark it is out there and in here.
But it’s his computer screen that has my full attention.
My pulse roars in my ears as I grip the edge of the counter for balance when my knees wobble. Grady looks to be editing pictures, but they’re all…of me. Swallowing thickly, I try to make sense of what I’m seeing. Image after image, it’s me. All candid. They’re not inappropriate in any way. They all look to be from when I built Suzy’s swing set a few weeks back. The one he’s working on now, I’m kneeling down, but I’m looking out into the yard at Suzy. Somehow, Grady snapped a shot of my profile, and you can see the way I’m looking at my daughter. He managed to fully capture the love in my eyes, and I don’t know how he did that without me realizing it.
It's an amazing shot, but the fact that he took them warms something in my chest while also making my heart beat faster. It’s working overdrive, right along with my lungs. Should I be creeped out by this? Because if I’m being honest with myself right now, I’m not. Not even a little bit.
What the fuck is happening with me?
14
Boone Stanton
“We all ready to go?” I ask Conrad as I glance at his truck in front of me, and the stock trailer we just hooked up to it. The sun has barely kissed the horizon, temperatures dropped over night to freezing levels, and the Styrofoam to-go cup in my gloved hands is doing about fuck all at keeping them warm. It’s not snowing anymore, but it did most of last night.
Conrad gives the truck and trailer a once-over before nodding tersely. “Yeah, let’s hit the road. It’s going to take us a while to get there with how the roads are, I’m sure.”
A few days ago, Conrad called and asked if I’d go with him to Orton Creek this morning to pick up a couple of baby bison he’s adopting. It was about the strangest request coming from him, seeing as how he’s never owned bison in his life, but I agreed because I could really use some time out of the house. On a regular day, the drive would take us a couple of hours, but it’ll be even longer today because of the ice and snow.
On the road, music plays at a low volume, the heat on full blast. There aren’t many cars around this time of morning. Everything is frosted over with a thick layer of ice and fresh snow. Even Copper Lake looks frozen over as we drive around it to get to the highway.
“So, why bison?” I ask. The question has been tickling my mind.
He shrugs, eyes trained on the road. “Just wanted some.”
“A little random, isn’t it?” I laugh.
In his mid-forties, Conrad is the oldest out of all of us. He’s also the broodiest. He owns Grazing Acres Ranch, which is home to some of the greatest bucking bulls around. The ranch has been in his family for generations, and at one point or another, all of us have worked there or helped out. Mostly when we were teenagers, itching to get into the rodeo scene. His ranch—or his parents’ ranch at the time—was where I truly found my love of bulls and bull riding.
“Not any weirder than me owning horses,” he quips. “Just because I raise bulls for the rodeo doesn’t mean I can’t have other animals.”
“Okay, okay. Fine.” I hold up my hands.
