Boone's Cowboy [Rescue for Hire 8] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic ManLove) (10 page)

By the time their lips parted, they both were breathing heavily, and their jeans were far too tight.

“I’ve missed you,” Boone said.

Flynn loved how swollen and red Boone’s lips were from his kisses. Looking down into Boone’s velvety-brown eyes, Flynn admitted, “I’ve missed you, too.”

“The team is going to the hotel tonight,” Boone said.

“Can I drive you and be your date?” Flynn smiled and kissed Boone again.

When Flynn freed his lips, Boone answered, “I’d like that.”

“I’m finished for the day. I’ll run home and clean up. Then I’ll come back here and pick you up, all right?” Flynn traced a fingertip down Boone’s cheek, enjoying the smooth skin.

“Okay, I’ll be waiting at my trailer.”

Flynn decided the time had come to ask the question on his mind. Bracing himself for rejection, he spit it out. “Boone, would you like to move your travel trailer over to my house?”

Boone blinked in surprise. A big smile appeared, and the breath Flynn hadn’t realized he was holding burst free.

“Would I be staying in my trailer, cowboy, or in the house with you?” Boone asked.

“I want you inside the house with me but didn’t know if you thought it was too soon to move in with me. I figured if you had the trailer near, you would feel more comfortable being at my place,” Flynn confessed.

“If I chose to sleep in my trailer, where would you sleep?” Boone’s pretty eyes seemed to be dancing with mischief.

“I would be in the trailer with you,” Flynn answered truthfully. “I don’t want to sleep without you anymore. Even if we’re as busy as we have been the last few days, at least I’d have you in my arms at night.”

“Flynn Wakefield, that’s just about the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me,” Boone declared.

“Well, um.” Flynn gave up and kissed Boone again. Their tongues tangled and rubbed together. It was a long time before Flynn let Boone go. By then, the younger man’s lids were heavy, and his eyes held a dreamy quality.

“I’d better go so that I can get back,” Flynn said before heading toward the door.

At the door, Boone’s voice stopped him. “Flynn.”

Flynn turned and looked at Boone. “Yes?”

“My answer is yes,” Boone said.

Flynn’s body froze for a moment. It had taken him forty years to ask someone to live with him. Now that Boone had agreed, he wasn’t sure what to do.

Boone chuckled. “Go home, Flynn. I’ll see you in a little while.”

Two hours later, Flynn sat at a large, round table in the corner of the Granite City Hotel’s restaurant. The waitress had just taken their empty plates away, and everyone was enjoying an after-dinner drink. It had been a long time since Flynn had had such a delicious meal of seafood. He especially loved the butter-toasted garlic bread.

All the employees of Rescue for Hire were there, along with their partners. Even Tony had managed to make it. Flynn thought he was still one of the most handsome men he had ever met, but he could clearly see the man was fighting an illness by the dark circles under his eyes and the grayish cast to his skin.

Shane, of course, was at his side at all times, usually holding him close. Tony looked happy snuggled in the big man’s arms.

“Hey, Boone, I want a rematch,” Treb called from the other side of the table.

“Any time, any place,” Boone called back.

“I’m in, too, and this time, I’m going to beat you both,” Gabriel joined in.

Flynn looked at all three men and realized they were cut from the same cloth. Treb was the most dangerous, and Gabriel was the caretaker. Flynn decided Boone was a combination of both. But in the end, all three men had a wild streak a mile long.

“I have to say you were pretty impressive,” Rock told Boone. “I’ve never seen anyone free climb a sheer wall face as fast as you did.”

“Tell me you were using safety ropes,” Cade ordered.

“Sure, boss, of course,” Treb answered solemnly.

Gabriel put his hand up between his mouth and Cade. In a mock whisper, he mouthed to Boone, “Safety ropes?”

Cade’s growl echoed around the table. Before Treb could say anything that would get the wild ones into more trouble, Bret jumped up and grabbed Pip’s hand.

“That song is the best. Let’s dance.” Tiny Pip, who was Jack’s partner, found himself dragged along in Bret’s wake to the dance floor.

Boone turned to Flynn. “I want to dance, too,” he whispered in his ear.

Flynn dropped a kiss on the smooth skin next to Boone’s ear before he said. “Go ahead.”

Boone and Rock took off for the dance floor. Flynn watched in amazement at the group of good-looking men performing some of the sexiest moves he had ever seen. Hips gracefully swayed, bumped, and grinded against others to the pounding base of the loud music.

Of course, Boone garnered most of Flynn’s attention, but when a long-haired blond about Boone’s height and stature started dancing with him, Flynn was mesmerized.

“Holy crap, those two are something,” Brad, Rock’s partner and a local veterinarian, said. Flynn found the all-American blond’s clean-cut good looks quite a contrast to Rock’s tattoos and piercings and long dreadlocks.

“Who is the blond?” Flynn asked.

“That’s Synn’s husband, Craig. Synn is Granite County’s Chief Deputy. Craig is also a deputy for Granite County,” Brad explained.

“Wow,” was all Flynn could say.

“Hey, Flynn, Boone and Craig are causing quite a commotion over there,” Jack observed.

Flynn dragged his gaze away from Boone and looked around. Now he saw a group of guys standing on the edge of the dance floor pointing and making obscene gestures at the men dancing. Some looked ready to approach the dancers. That was so not happening if Flynn had any say in the matter.

He looked over to where Brad said this Synn was. Dark brown, almost black, eyes clashed with Flynn’s gaze. Synn jerked his head toward the dance floor and stood. Flynn received the message loud and clear and also stood.

Together, but at different angles, he and Synn made their way through the growing crowd toward their dancing partners. On the edge of the raised floor, they met.

“I think it’s time to stake our claim,” Synn said.

Flynn saw Synn was a couple of inches taller, but they had about the same muscle mass. That was about all they had in common looks-wise. The dark-skinned Native American with blue-black hair down to his waist couldn’t have been more different from Flynn’s pure cowboy looks. Flynn saw the humor of them looking a bit like one of those old western movies.

“Let’s do it,” Flynn replied.

Flynn followed Synn onto the dance floor. When he reached Boone, he slid up behind the sexy man and put his arms around his waist. Boone glanced back over his shoulder. When he saw it was Flynn, he shifted his hips back so his ass was rubbing against Flynn’s cock.

As they swayed to the music, Boone reached up and looped his hands around Flynn’s neck, causing his body to arch back so prettily. A stranger wearing a purple polo shirt and tight black jeans danced up to Boone and started brushing up against him.

Behind Flynn, someone pressed his hard dick against Flynn’s ass. Flynn looked over his shoulder and recognized Tim.

“Back off,” he ordered. Tim took a step back and disappeared into the crowd.

“Get the fuck off of me,” Boone yelled.

Flynn turned back to see Boone’s hand wrapped around the neck of the guy with the purple shirt. The poor man had his arms raised in the worldwide signal of surrender as he struggled to breathe.

“Let him go, pretty baby. I want you in my bed, not a jail cell,” Flynn murmured into Boone’s ear.

Boone loosened his grip, and the man fell back a few steps. Smartly, the guy went back to his group of cronies.

“Do you want to dance some more, have a drink, or leave?” Flynn asked. He patted himself on the back for sounding so reasonable. He’d had enough of the crowd and wanted some alone time with his love.

Boone leaned back, resting his head on Flynn’s shoulder and whispered in his ear, “Let’s go home, cowboy.”

Flynn sprang into action, ushering Boone through the growing mass of bodies to the table. It looked as though he and Boone weren’t the only ones calling it a night. The rest of the men of Rescue for Hire were standing and saying their good-byes to one other.

Five minutes later, with Boone’s hand in his, Flynn was able to walk out into the parking lot and take a deep breath of clear, fresh air.

They’d started toward Flynn’s truck when an amused voice sliced through the air.

“Look who we have here. The hottie who thinks he’s so tough.”

Flynn let go of Boone’s hand and tightened his muscles as he turned to confront the owner of the voice. He wouldn’t start anything, but he had no problem ending it.

Standing in front of them was a group of about ten men. By the look of their glazed eyes, Flynn could tell they had been doing some heavy partying and were more than ready to enjoy a good fight.

“Shit, this might hurt,” Boone murmured.

“Do as much damage as you can before they beat the shit out of us,” Flynn advised.

“You don’t look so tough now, sexy,” the guy in the purple shirt taunted. “Why don’t you come over here and party with me for a while? I’ll return you to the cowboy in one piece, sort of.”

Laughter rippled through the group. One tall man with a scar bisecting his eyebrow moved forward. His words were slurred, and a drop of drool coated his lower lip when he said, “I don’t know. I think it would be fun roughing up the cowboy a little.”

As one, the group yelled, “Yeah!”

Flynn raised his fists and balanced his weight evenly on the balls of his feet. Beside him, Boone crouched, ready for battle.

Together, the group surge forward. By the looks in their eyes, they were ready for the warm, slick feel of blood on their hands.

And then they froze in mid-motion.

Boone knew the cowboy could hold his own in a fair fight. The problem was, nothing about the fight in front of them was fair. He scanned the drunk and, he suspected, drugged-up men, looking for the one who ran the show. That was who he would go after first.

The scrape of a shoe against the black asphalt alerted Boone to the presence of someone behind him. He couldn’t hold back the smile when whiff of Eternity cologne reached his nostrils.

Where there was Damian, there was Treb. Already Boone liked the changing odds of coming out of this fight in one piece. In front of him, the crowd stopped moving. Fear replaced the ugly excitement that had graced their faces seconds ago.

“Hey, Cade, I’ve found a good fight takes away the stresses of the day,” Shane said loud enough for everyone to hear.

Cade’s voice rang out over the crowd. “I have to agree with you, brother. I think knocking a few heads together would make me feel real good.” Boone glanced back and saw that the whole Rescue for Hire team was behind him and Flynn. No wonder the small mob in front of him had stopped. If they were stupid enough to take the team on, Boone wouldn’t feel sorry for them when they were hospitalized.

A massive, blond-haired man stepped between the two groups. His demeanor screamed law enforcement.

“Is there a problem here, gentlemen?”

Boone watched the guy with the purple shirt step back behind the rest of his buddies.

A tall brunet with a shiny tan vest over a white shirt said, “No, sheriff, we were just leaving.”

“I thought so,” the sheriff said. The man’s steely black gaze followed the group as they got into their vehicles and drove away. After the last truck had left the parking lot, the sheriff turned to them.

Widening his stance, the sheriff put his hands on his hips and said, “Cade Miller, I thought you and your men were old enough to quit causing trouble.”

“Now, Steve, you know I never start anything. If a bunch of shitheads think they are going to start pounding on my team, I will be happy to show them the error of their ways.”

Bret, who had been standing back on the edge of the parking lot with Pip and Tony, walk over to Cade and pushed under his arm. “I think it’s time to go home to our children, bear.”

Cade smiled down at his partner. “All right, let’s go.” Cade looked up at the sheriff. “Are we free to leave?”

“Of course. There weren’t any laws broken,” Steve answered.

At his side, Boone heard Treb say, “Yet.”

A snort came out of Boone’s nose, and he quickly covered it with a cough when the sheriff looked at him.

He was saved by Flynn’s arm looping around his shoulders and pulling him close to the cowboy’s warm body. “Let’s go home, pretty baby, before you get into any more trouble.”

Boone looked sharply at Flynn. “I didn’t start this.”

“No, you didn’t,” Flynn agreed. “Now come on.”

After everyone had said their good-byes, Flynn guided Boone to his truck. Boone frowned, trying to figure out what Flynn had meant by his comments.

As they left the lights of the city behind, Flynn broke the silence. “What are you thinking about?”

“I had a boyfriend once that dumped me because he said I was too much trouble,” Boone admitted.

Flynn laid his arm along the back of the truck seat. “Come sit next to me.”

Boone unbuckled his seat belt and slid over. Flynn’s hard body smelled and felt so good. A heavy arm came down around his shoulders and pulled him tighter until Boone laid his head against Flynn’s shoulder.

“I like you just the way you are,” Flynn said quietly. “I love the way your eyes sparkle when you have a thought that I have no doubt will lead to some kind of mischief. I love it when you walk toward me with your head held high and your hips rolling in this cocky way that tells me you know I can’t take my eyes off of you. That guy tonight wanted you. But I have you and am willing to fight anyone to keep you.”

Boone sat there taking in what Flynn had just told him. He sniffed hard, damn allergies. When they hit, they made a person’s eyes water and everything. A handkerchief, so white it almost glowed in the dim lights of the dashboard, was dropped into his lap. Quickly, he wiped his eyes and nose. Damn allergies.

“Flynn.”

“Yeah?”

“I think I love you.”