02-Let It Ride (10 page)

“Not going to happen.”

“You can’t know that.” Eric glanced over at Rosie, but she didn’t have any advice to offer. “Can we keep things strings-free for now?”

Bridge frowned. “Like friends with benefits?”

He nodded and backed up a foot.

“What if I want more than friends with benefits?” Bridge reached for him, and Eric took another step back.

“It’s been a long time since you’ve been with a man, Bridge, and it was only the once, right? An experiment? You may find it’s fun to take the old horse out for another ride but that it’s not really the right horse for you . . . or that you want to ride all the horses in the pasture. And if things go bad, I’m out four really good friends.”

Bridge pushed his hat back a little with his brush hand, eyebrows furrowing into a scowl. “What are you talking about? I told you last night I didn’t suddenly decide I wanted to see what kissing a man was like again. I’m attracted to
you
. Been . . . thinking about you, about kissing
you
for a long time now. I want to go on dates and share my favorite things and learn all your little quirks and turn-ons.” Bridge smiled, his voice taking on a wistful note. “Maybe you’ll let me be your boyfriend.”

“Okay. Slow down, Quick Draw.” As much as those words sang like angels in his ears, and it was clear from the look on Bridge’s face that he believed what he’d said—for now—Eric couldn’t let himself believe in fairy tales again. Not this time. “Let’s just . . . keep it on the down low for now, okay?”

“Are you telling me I have to be in the closet when you’re not?” Bridge squared his shoulders, adding enough perceived inches to his height to be more than a little intimidating, yet it had the opposite effect on Eric.

“No! Hell no. Just . . .” Eric ran his free hand back and forth over his buzzed head. “Make sure you’re certain before you come busting out with all guns blazing. That’s all.”

Bridge regarded him for a long moment then shrugged, that familiar teasing sparkle returning to his eyes. “Okay. I’ll play your way for now, but you’d better start thinking about how you want the crow you’re going to be eating prepared when you realize we’re going to be more than friends with bennies. You’ll see. We’re going to be boyfriends.”

Eric couldn’t help smiling at his friend’s confidence, even as a trickle of doubt threaded through his chest. “Sure. Whatever you say.”

Bridge grinned, lifting his mug for a quick sip. “Believe me or don’t—the result will be the same.”

“Believe what?”

Eric startled at the sound of Kent’s voice and hated the feeling that he’d been caught with his hands in the cookie jar. Kent led his roping horse to the open space beside Rosie and looped the lead through a ring. Fortunately, Bridge didn’t look at all concerned and spoke up without missing a beat, because Eric’s voice had flown the coop at that moment.

“Just a little private bet with our good friend here,” Bridge said, which was so not the save Eric would have gone for, and then the man had the audacity to wink at him.

“Oh?” Kent looked between the two of them before his gaze settled on Eric, and Eric knew those keen eyes saw more than he wanted them to. “Care to share?”

Eric shook his head, shooting a quick warning glare at Bridge before checking his watch . . . that he’d forgotten to put on. “I gotta go make sure my emergency kit is stocked up.” Before either man could make another comment, he turned and hightailed it back to his camper. If the rest of the guys found out he and Bridge were . . . involved, they’d make more out of it than it was, and that was an added pressure Eric knew he wouldn’t be able to deal with. They’d expect it to be something more than it was; the kind of expectations that scared the hell out of Eric.

Kent remained quiet until Eric was well out of earshot, but Bridge knew a full-on interrogation was brewing. He began counting down in his head:
five . . . four . . . three . . . two . . .

“What was that about?”

. . . one.

Damn, he’s pulling a Quick Draw McGraw today
.

Bridge rolled a shoulder in a lazy half shrug, put his coffee mug on the trailer’s tire well, and returned to grooming Rosie. “Nothing. Just goofing around.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” Kent grabbed a brush from the tack box he’d dropped on the ground beside his horse.

“Dude. Really?” Bridge let his gaze follow his hand as he brushed Rosie’s sleek coat instead of meeting Kent’s eyes. “Kind of all adults here.”

Bridge ignored the silence that fell between them and mentally wandered off to replay the conversation with Eric and that last kiss—the perfect meld of those warm, soft lips to his, and the slide of Eric’s tongue in his mouth. The enticing taste of him. And, oh God, the feel of the man’s hard cock pressing against his thigh seriously had him wanting to follow the natural course of their growing desire. Damn and then some. Just knowing Eric wanted him that much had made his pulse stampede through his body and threatened to disconnect his brain.

“Oh, dude, no.” Kent walked around the horses to stand beside him. “You went there, didn’t you?”

He wasn’t about to lie to Kent by denying it, but he had agreed to keep it on the down low for now. Even so, he couldn’t help sliding a glance over his shoulder and wiggling an eyebrow. If he wasn’t using words, he wasn’t really telling, right? It wasn’t his fault if Kent was astute enough to guess on his own.

Kent sighed like a father at the end of his rope with a recalcitrant child. “You’d better not fuck everything up.”

“Jeez, dude.” Bridge paused his brushing to level a look at Kent that he hoped made clear how much he intended not to fuck everything up. “This isn’t just some whim or experiment. I really do like him.”

Kent stared back at him, eyes searching, like he could see right into Bridge’s brain and read everything in his mind. “Holy hell, you are serious.”

Bridge smiled. “Like a bull seeing red.”

“Well, I’ll be.” Kent started to smile, but then it froze partway. “When are you going to tell Marty?”

“When I’m good and ready to.” Bridge looked away from Kent and reached into his tack box, trading the brush for a comb and began to tackle Rosie’s mane. There really wasn’t much to tell yet anyway. Not really. Yeah, he was hot for Eric, and yeah, those kisses had been amazing, but it hadn’t been even twenty-four hours yet. Plus, there was the whole keeping-under-the-radar thing . . . that he just blew. “Can’t I enjoy this quietly for at least one day?”

“Yeah, but the thing is, you’ve never been with a man before.”

That’s not quite true, actually.
Bridge stopped combing and scowled at his best friend. “Your point, Nosey Parker?”

Kent volleyed with a scowl of his own, but his voice was even when he spoke. “My point is, keeping Marty in the dark isn’t right. We don’t keep secrets from each other. Especially if they’re as big as this.”

A sliver of guilt trickled into Bridge’s gut at never having seen the point of telling them about his one-time experience. But . . .

“Marty didn’t tell us about Tripp for months,” Bridge countered, like that would somehow cancel out his omission.

“And,” Kent continued, shaking his head as he walked back over to his horse, “considering he’s the gay one between us—or was—he’s going to be pissed at you for not going straight to him the second you started thinking about Eric as anything more than just a friend.”

“I’m sorry.
What
?”

Bridge and Kent both spun around. Marty stood staring at them, wide-eyed and slack-jawed. Heat exploded across Bridge’s cheeks. Fuck. Not even seven in the morning and already the day was proving too long. He braced himself for the lashings of yet another earful.

“You’re in for it now, buddy,” Kent said, slanting a sympathetic half smile his way before turning to Marty. “Mornin’, Smarts,” Kent added, with a little too much joviality in his voice. He untied his horse while Marty and Bridge stood silent, facing off against each other like a couple of bulls ready to charge, waiting for Kent to leave so they could talk privately.

Marty crossed his arms and pressed his mouth into a flat line. He raised an eyebrow in challenge, waiting for Bridge to start the conversation.

Bridge sighed, took off his hat to run a hand through his hair, and then replaced it. No point in trying to put it off or beating around the bush. “I’m attracted to Eric.”

Riiiip. Off with the Band-Aid!

Marty continued to stare him down. Not moving, not speaking, but there was definitely a growing anger in his controlled expression.

“And I kissed him.” Bridge dropped his eyes for a second, fighting the smile that wanted to break out on his face at the memory. “Twice.”

“Are you telling me—” Marty’s voice was low, flat, which was a little more nerve-racking than if he’d yelled. Marty mad was a rare thing. “—that you’ve been gay all this time and never once thought to tell me? Of
all
people?”

“No. I’m not gay.” And he immediately regretted the words when an emotion akin to hurt flashed through Marty’s green eyes.

“You’re attracted to a man,” Marty said in that same low voice. “Romantically. That’s generally considered being gay.”

“But I’m still attracted to women.” He dropped the comb into the tack box and then shoved both hands into his pockets. “I just really like Eric.”

“So you’re bi. Fine.” Marty’s voice softened, his brief anger fading quickly. “If you get involved with Eric, then you’re in a gay relationship.”

“Okay, fine. But do we have to label everything so neatly? So he’s a guy.” Bridge shrugged. “Big deal. I like him. A lot. Isn’t that enough?”

Marty studied him for a moment and then sighed, dropping his arms to his sides. “How long?”

Bridge’s mouth stretched into a wide smile of its own accord. “Pretty much since the first day we met him, back at the hospital in Santa Maria last spring.”

“I meant, how long have you known you’re attracted to men, too? People don’t generally wake up in their late twenties and suddenly decide they’re bisexual or gay.”

“Oh.” Bridge looked down at his boots, chewed at his lower lip, and then met Marty’s gaze. “I, uh, kind of fooled around with a guy in college. Once.”

The look Marty leveled at him went straight to his gut like a knife. He’d never once thought not telling about that time would come back around and end up hurting one of the very best friends he’d ever had.

“I’m sorry, Marty,” Bridge said. “It’s not that I didn’t want to tell you or that I was hiding anything. It’s just . . . Remember Silvie?” He waited until Marty nodded before continuing. “Well, I met her right after, and I figured since she turned me on so much so fast that the thing with that guy was just one of those college experience things. You know how that goes.”

“Not really,” Marty said. The hurt Bridge had seen in his eyes dissipated, thankfully, leaving behind only understanding. Then Marty smiled. “That explains a lot, I guess.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not really all that shocked you’d find yourself interested in a man. I mean, you’ve never had any issues at all with showing affection for us, kissing our cheeks and hugging and stuff, or pointing out hot guys for me. Then I noticed those odd looks you had on your face when Eric was around. I kind of thought something was up and wanted to ask, but there was too much going on with Tripp at the time.”

Bridge smiled, relief flooding into his veins. “So, you’re not mad at me?”

“Of course I’m mad at you! You should have told me.”

“I’m sorry, Smarts. I was going to, but the timing was bad for a while there and I wasn’t even really sure what was going on. I didn’t want to add more crap to your pile. It wasn’t until last night that I finally geared myself up enough to talk to Eric about it. And then we kissed, and well, it’s kind of all I can think about right now . . .”

The corners of Marty’s mouth lifted, and his eyes glittered. “So it was good then?”

Bridge moaned his delight. “Best. Ever.”

“I should have known.” Marty shook his head and chuckled. “You stuck by me like it was nothing when I came out.”

“Well, duh,” Bridge said. “We’re practically brothers.”

“Even brothers still turn away sometimes,” Marty said, a note of sadness in his voice.

“They’re just assholes then, aren’t they?”

He met Marty’s gaze and opened his arms. Marty stepped into the embrace and wrapped around him.

“I’m happy for you. I really am.
But
. . .” Marty disengaged, stepping back to level a warning glare on him. “I know you wouldn’t mess around with Eric unless you’re dead serious about him, so make sure this is what you want. Okay? I’d hate to see him get his heart broken.”

Bridge threw his arms up, exasperated, and looked to the sky for help. “Why does everyone think
I’m
going to break
his
heart?”