Wild Trail (Clean Slate Ranch #1)(90)

Wes’s entire body tensed. “You are?”

“Sure am, boss. I think I knew after our first night together that you would never be a summer fling. Just didn’t think I’d fall so hard, so fast. We’ve barely known each other two months.”

“I feel the same way.” Wes clasped their hands together in his lap, needing Mack’s strength to say what he needed to say—and to believe in Wes’s own promises. “I could never forget about you. Ever. We can make this work. I want this movie so badly, Mack, and if I get it, I’ll Skype you every night I’m gone, and I’ll miss you like crazy, but I’ll come home to you. I also want to work here at the ghost town for you. Hell, in a perfect happy ending, I get to stay here and work for you in the on-season, and then go do a movie in the winter.”

Mack laughed. “Sounds like you’ve got the future all planned out.”

“Even if I don’t get the movie, it isn’t the end of the world. I love what I do now, and I’ll love it until you open the town to tourists.” Wes shook his head. “Damn, if Sophie could hear me now, making all sorts of hypothetical future plans.”

“Not much for planning ahead?”

“I don’t even make grocery lists. Seriously, I thought Sophie had lost her mind when she asked me to plan her wedding. She said I was the only big brother she had and that I worked cheap.”

“How cheap?”

“She’s paying me back by planning my wedding at some future date.”

Mack quirked an eyebrow. “So you are the old-fashioned, romantic type.”

“Surprise. I don’t talk about wanting to settle down, but that’s because I hadn’t met anyone worth keeping around in the long-term. Until I saw you up on that wagon in your cowboy hat and boots.”

“So you only want me for my accessories?”

“Yup.”

Mack feigned shock. Wes leaned over and kissed him, because he hadn’t in a while. The conversation was also getting scarily close to a hard commitment. Wes hadn’t mentioned that for him to work at the attraction, he’d have to move to Garrett. Either the town itself, or in with Mack, and that was too big to think about. Time for their little heads to do some thinking.

A howling noise in the distance had Wes pulling back, his heart tripping. “What was that?”

“Coyote.”

“Will it come near us?”

“Not if I turn the headlights on.”

Wes pouted. “But that’ll ruin the stargazing.”

“Then why don’t we move this picnic indoors? We can pull up the blinds on the front window here and still see the stars.”

The coyote called again.

“Good plan,” Wes said.

The inside of the trailer was one big room, with a desk facing the window and a bunch of tools and equipment carefully piled in one corner. Mack shoved the desk backward a few feet, so they could spread the blanket under the big, two-pane window. They made quick work of settling the food and drinks, and then getting the blinds out of the way. Starlight streamed into the trailer, giving them just enough light to see each other.

Mack sat with his back against the desk, then pulled Wes between his knees. Wes reclined against his broad chest. Fingers entwined on Wes’s belly, they looked up at the stars. Wes relaxed into Mack’s strong arms, more content to simply exist with someone than he’d ever been in his life.

It means something. We mean something together.

Mack pointed out a few new constellations. Wes loved the deep timbre of his voice rumbling against his back. He started to drift a little, sleepiness stealing in, until the pressure of Mack’s rising erection against his backside woke Wes right back up.

Oh yes.

Wes wiggled his ass. Mack’s breath caught. He leaned down and licked the side of Wes’s neck, right over the spot he’d marked on Sunday. “Ever had sex under the starlight before?” Mack whispered.

“Had sex outdoors, but not like this.” Mack palmed his growing dick and squeezed. Wes whined. “Touch me, daddy.”

“I am touching you, boss.”

“Bare skin, you jerk.” Wes humped up against his hand. “Please.”

“Wait.”

“What?”

Mack actually put his hand over Wes’s mouth, silencing him. Before Wes could protest, Mack said, “I heard something.”

Wes went rigid, his senses jumping to high-alert. He strained to listen, but all he heard was his own rapid heartbeat.

“Don’t say anything,” Mack whispered directly into his ear. Wes nodded.

Mack let him go, and then crept to the window. Wes followed, adrenaline coursing through him, making his fingertips shake. If Mack was being this cautious, it wasn’t another coyote that he’d heard. Mack peeked up over the edge of the window for less than two heartbeats before ducking back down.

“There are two men with flashlights out there,” Mack said so quietly Wes basically read his lips.

Wes mouthed, What the fuck? back at him.

Mack shook his head as he reached for his phone. Typed, then glared. Mouthed, No signal. Wes checked his phone just in case, but he was out of range of the ranch’s Wi-Fi, too. He lifted his shoulders in a helpless shrug. Then he got inspired.

He joined Mack by the window and hazarded a look out. The two men were within a hundred feet of the trailer, their light beams focused on the blacksmith shack. Wes lifted his phone high enough to start recording what they were doing. The zoom didn’t let him see their faces, but they’d squatted in front of the shed.