Page 52 of Stables Spurs Suits
He lets out a soft chuckle and sits, stretching out his legs and leaning back on his elbows to stare out at the natural beauty of the land before us.
“I guess that’s something,” he sighs. When I allow myself to glance down at him, I don’t see the suit who showed up on the ranch all those months back. I see the kind-hearted man who earned the trust of a skittish horse and an even more skittish horseman.
My hands shake, and I clasp them together tightly as I sit beside him.
“Is the job a good one at least?” I ask.
“I’d be working on the projects I helped bring in. The drones are being used to set up the first responders for the farms. It would be good. Great, even.”
“Then you have to say yes,” I say, and his shoulder slumps a little like he knows what I’m saying is true.
“But what about everything I’d be leaving here?” he asks, a painful edge to his voice.
“It’ll still be here for you to visit. Maybe this is exactly the lucky break you’ve been collecting all those pennies for.”
“You really think I should take it?” he asks.
“It doesn’t matter what I think. It matters what you want. No one can tell you that, not even me. Do you have to decide right away?” I ask, and he shifts a little closer, the warmth of his body reaching out to mine like a call to action that my cock acknowledges with a twitch. Now is really not the time for all that. Though maybe it is. Maybe I can dick him out so good he never wants to leave.
“I have a week to accept.”
The cold reality of his words hit me like a truck. He said accept. Not accept or decline, or even just to let them know. He’s leaning toward taking this job and leaving Beaker Brothers, leaving me, and then what will I do? Go back to spending all mytime naked and alone in my trailer. I guess it worked for me for a long time. It can work for me again. And who knows, maybe he will be able to visit, and maybe when he does, I’ll still somehow melt under his touch.
“Look, that cloud sort of makes a cow shape,” he says, and I follow his pointed finger to the white-grey blob floating across the sky.
“Yeah. It does,” I reply, and we lie back against the ground.
His fingers intertwine with mine, and we lie there like that first night under the stars together, only this time we’re not naked, and we watch the valley and the soft clouds drift along, pointing out different shapes until the sky turns purple and pink.
“I should probably get Loki back before dark,” Matthew says, and he stands, kicking the gravel with heavy footsteps on his way over to the horses. I’m up and turn in time to watch him mount Loki in one smooth move like he’s done it a million times, and it brings a smile to my lips but a pang to my chest. Why can’t I just tell him that I want him to stay?
Chapter twenty-two
MATTHEW
RE-EVALUTAING THE WHY, WHERE, AND WHO
I take an early walk down Main Street. Most of the small boutiques and shops aren’t open yet, but the small bakery is trying to call the world awake with its delicious scent of freshly baked bread.
“Good morning, Mrs. Finch,” I say, stepping through the door. She’s behind the counter, lining up muffins in the display case.
“Good morning, young Matthew. After your usual?” she asks.
“Yes, please, and can you throw in an extra? I’m headed out to Beaker Brothers.”
“You’ll need more than one if you’re planning on feeding those boys. Sally-May is one of my biggest customers, and she bakes what she can herself.”
“Don’t tell her I said so, but I like your cinnamon rolls more.”
“I won’t breathe a word of it. Here, take a fresh batch of the minis out to the boys. It’s their fresh milk and cream that make them extra special… well, that and my momma’s filling recipe.”
She hands over two small brown paper bags with the bakery logo stamped in ink on the side, one with my individual full-sized rolls and a larger brown bag with a cardboard tray inside and a whole batch of twelve mini-rolls for the rest of the guys on the ranch. I pay and drop an extra ten-dollar bill in the tip jar when she’s not looking.
It’s things like this I’ll miss when I leave. I’m almost certain that I’m going. I feel like I owe it to myself to see what I can make of my life, use the college degree I’m still paying off. This was always supposed to be temporary, a place to prove myself, get that leg up in the company. True, that was when I was supposed to be spying for the board, but Connor has made some real improvements to the way the company runs, and those improvements have actually resulted in significant profits. The board only really cares about the money after all. Connor cares about so much more, and in the project space, I can put his ideas into action. I can help change the company. I’d be a fool to give up on that opportunity, wouldn’t I?
When I get to Beaker Brothers, I drop off the mini rolls in the kitchen and head for Atlas’s trailer. It’s early enough that he should be up but not out with the horses yet.
“That for me?” Atlas asks from behind me, and I jump, throwing the rolls into the air. He laughs and manages to catch one on its way down, but the other hits the ground with a slap, the bag opens, and the pastry rolls onto the dirt.
