“It’s three in the afternoon. Are you drinking?” He’d rather be celibate than get back with his ex. They’d been terrible together.
Evan drove past Mick’s spot by the barn. He paid Mick no attention—either that or he hadn’t seen Mick. Good. He didn’t want to be found yet, but wanted to gawk at Evan. He sighed. Evan had turned his hat backwards. His shirt was still off, but he’d donned sunglasses. The look worked for him. Damn, he was sexy. Mick wanted to take photos. He’d bet Evan would want to use them for an album cover.
“Mick? Are you there?” Aldus asked. “Mick?”
Mick shook his head. “Sorry.” He swiped to end the call. Douchey, but oh well. He tucked the phone into his pocket. He preferred to watch Evan. He leaned against the wall of the barn and realization hit hard. His crush on Evan hadn’t died and he didn’t want to be just friends. The chances he and Evan would get together for more than a fling were slim to none. Would he be happy with being part of an affair? He’d claimed he wanted to sort out whatever was happening between them…later. Who was he kidding?
Mick liked Evan James. No, he liked Evan Conley.
Was he losing his touch? Evan would get bored with him if they dated. Evan was flashy. He knew people. Mick knew mostly older folks and married gay men. A relationship with Evan wouldn’t work.
Would it?
He wasn’t a fool. He’d never be able to walk away from Evan if they did get together. Yes, Evan wasn’t a true cowboy, but he looked great in those chaps he wore on stage and even better in those faded jeans.
Mick groaned. He knew the score. He liked Evan, but he held no belief that he and Evan would be a couple. That didn’t mean they couldn’t be friends and have fun. It also didn’t mean he couldn’t ogle Evan’s ass whenever he got the chance.
Evan drove past again, but this time, he slowed the tractor. “Mick?”
Mick waved. How in the hell would he make standing next to the barn seem natural? He had to think fast and hope Evan didn’t ask lots of questions. “Hi.”
“Hi.” Evan stopped the tractor and turned the engine off. He left the seat and ambled over to Mick. “What are you doing here? If you want to help stack straw, you’re not dressed for it.” He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. “But I’ll gladly accept help.”
Fuck. “I needed to see you.” Sweaty, dirty and muscled…in my bed, out of bed, against my wall… Shit. He couldn’t say all that. “I wanted to touch base.” He should shut up before he made a fool of himself.
“Cool.” Evan turned his ballcap around and took off his sunglasses. Dust from the straw bales had collected on his hair and cheek. “We’ll be done in half an hour if you want to meet in the house.”
“Sounds good.” Was he blushing? His face heated. Could he play off his embarrassment as sunburn? “I’ll be there.”
“I figured you would.” Evan grinned and stepped in close. “If you want to stare at me, then do it. You don’t have to hide or act coy.”
“Evan.” He’d been caught. He should come up with an excuse, but none seemed appropriate.
“I like when you watch me,” Evan said. “I’d gawk at you.” He winked. “I’d come right out and tell you I’d watch you instead of lurking.”
The words he’d wanted to say faded. The vibe of attraction was strong, but still. Evan liked looking at him? Him? Had he finally outgrown the dorkiness from school?
“Strike that,” Evan said.
Better. Mick preferred Evan to be honest and not lead him on. “Cool.”
Evan chuckled. “Mick, I’m totally going to stare at you. You’re hot.” He walked back to the tractor without another word, then drove off.
Mick sagged again the wall of the barn. If anything, Evan knew how to flirt. He knew how to say the right things and get his way. Mick waited for Evan to drive away before he exhaled. Holy shit. His attraction increased and now he wanted to strut for Evan. But how long would the connection last?
Was he wrong to want to find out?
Chapter Four
Thursday morning, Evan met with the funeral director and went over the final details of Martha’s ceremony. He’d spent the majority of the morning with the young men employed to care for the animals and farmland. He liked the guys and planned to keep them on through the school year. If they wanted to continue on once they graduated, he’d give them permanent employment. The animals were taken care of and the ground worked on time. He couldn’t ask for more.
He sat through the details of Martha’s funeral and would’ve picked different music to be played at the calling hours, but she’d chosen what she liked. He respected her wishes.
Evan headed back to the farm with the job of finding photographs to be used at the viewing. He should find images of Martha, the family, Clem and the children.
Not a problem.
He knew what he wanted to use. He had boxes of photos to choose from and would display some of her quilted items, too.
When he stepped into the house, the wind rushed out of him and the heaviness of the moment hit hard. Alone. No more listening to his grandmother singing along with the radio. No more cookies being baked in the oven and her chasing him out of the kitchen to stop eating the fresh morsels. No more surprises or speeches about what to do with his life. His family was gone. He was the last one standing.
He spotted the bottle of the whiskey his grandfather had once drunk. He could lose himself in the blissful slushiness of the bottle, but why? Getting roaring drunk wouldn’t bring his family back. He’d be drunk, numb and lonely. When the buzz wore off, he’d have a headache and wouldn’t have any company.
