Wild Trail (Clean Slate Ranch #1)(33)
Mack gaped at his departing backside, too stunned to react—and certain his goddamn erection wasn’t going down anytime soon. Not with that image firmly planted in his head.
He needed a drink.
Chapter Nine
Last night’s delightful starlit conversation with Mack had made sleeping on the hard ground a little more bearable for Wes, despite waking up with a sore lower back. He’d finally fallen asleep to thoughts of Mack spanking him while he knelt over a horse’s saddle, then woke up with a stiffy so intense he was glad he’d slept on his side. The sun was up and others were stirring, so he couldn’t do anything about it.
He’d untucked his shirt and popped the fly on his jeans so he’d be more comfortable sleeping, so he could use the shield of his shirt’s hem to hide the problem until it went away.
Something started sizzling in a pan nearby, and he was pretty sure he smelled coffee. Coffee always got him out of bed. Or a bedroll. Whatever. He buttoned his fly and sat up carefully so he didn’t strangle his problem boner with his zipper. And said problem boner was not helped by the sight of Mack crouching next to the fire pit, one muscled arm reaching out to stir something in a big, cast-iron frying pan.
Jesus, that’s a sexy thing to wake up to in the morning.
He really wanted a chance to wake up to Mack making him breakfast on the morning after. Maybe needing to sit on a cushion from the previous night’s spanking. Wes rarely let his kinky side out to play, because he only went there with guys he trusted. And club hookups were usually short on trust. It said something about Mack that Wes already trusted him on a gut level—a trust he hadn’t experienced this quickly with anyone. Not even Drake, and Drake was the one who’d helped Wes discover his kinky side.
Mack turned his head and looked right into Wes’s eyes. Wes’s face burned, positive Mack could hear the dirty thoughts in his head.
On Wes’s left, Derrick sat up and started complaining about his back. Wes used the distraction to focus on his future other brother-in-law, and it did wonders for his erection. By the time Derrick had hauled ass to his feet, Wes could follow him over to the watering hole and relieve himself without worrying about blasting off. The snickers and snerks coming from Liam and Miller, directed at him, killed the last of his residual arousal.
After a delicious—if moderately fattening—breakfast of home fries, bacon, and warmed day-old biscuits, they set about breaking camp. Bedrolls were shaken out and packed up. Cooking equipment was washed in the creek and stored away. The fire pit killed and ashes buried. Eventually it was time to saddle up their horses. Mack and Reyes checked every saddle before anyone was allowed to mount.
Mack tugged on Blizzard’s straps, a small grin telling Wes he’d done good without words.
Apparently, the morning ride took them a few miles deeper into the wilderness before they’d turn around and head home. Reyes left the wagon behind and rode his horse without a damned saddle, which earned him mad respect from Wes. Their group stopped near a cliff that overlooked a green valley. Mack directed everyone to look out toward the north.
A herd of deer grazed together, at least seven of them. Paying no attention to humans watching them from several hundred feet away. Another stream—nope, part of the same stream, according to Mack—wound its way through the valley. The view was unexpectedly beautiful.
Miles even let go of Tango’s reins long enough to snap a few photos. Wes did the same with his phone, then took a couple of the wedding party on their horses. Got a great shot of Sophie with her head tossed back, laughing at something Conrad said. Even sitting on different horses, they were close to each other, in sync. Wes hadn’t realized how much he wanted that closeness, too, until Sophie got engaged to the perfect guy. Was there a perfect guy out there for Wes, too?
He glanced over at Mack, who immediately looked away.
Is he scoping me out?
After their middle of the night flirting, anything was possible. Wes had surprised himself by telling Mack the gory details of his adventure in Hollywood television. Having left things unsettled between Drake and himself was one of Wes’s biggest regrets. One he needed to let go of, because there was no way to contact Drake, even on the off-chance Drake spoke to him again.
“Everyone, feel free to explore a while, just watch the edge there,” Mack called. “We’ll take fifteen before we head home.”
Wes should have used the opportunity to stretch, but he hadn’t been in the saddle very long yet, so he reined Blizzard away from the group a bit, then went slack. Allowing the horse to lead herself for a while. He snapped pictures with his phone and studied the mountains in the far distance. They were part of the ranch property, but they seemed like another world altogether.
He’d never given much thought to exploring the wilderness before. Mack admitted that a chunk of the property was unexplored. And while Wes didn’t believe that robbers had ever left gold on the land, he kind of wanted to see more of it. Maybe take a private tour with Mack, two bedrolls and a strip of condoms.
The absolute quiet was almost too loud, and Wes looked around.
He was completely alone, no sign of the group anywhere.
Oh shit, what did I do?
How had no one seen him wander off? “This is what I get for letting you lead yourself,” he said to Blizzard. The horse ignored him.
Wes wasn’t panicking yet. He pulled Blizzard to a stop, then looked behind him, stupidly hoping for a trail. But the ground was solid, not muddy, and Wes couldn’t figure out exactly where he’d come from. The big mountain he’d been staring at was vaguely more behind him, so maybe if he turned Blizzard around and use the mountain to guide him. Like old cowboys used the stars.