Ty looked to Zane, prepared to take his cues from Zane until he got a feel for the lay of the land. Classic Grady, studying his prey in its natural habitat before striking.

“You know what? I’m going to do that and leave you to face Mom’s wrath,” Zane said, standing up. “Ty put her in her place just now.”

“Did you, now? Would’ve liked to’ve seen that.”

Zane laid his hand on Ty’s shoulder. “I’m sure you’ll get another chance.”

Harrison chuckled. “Go on. I’ll see you at dinner.”

“Okay, Dad,” Zane said as he patted Harrison’s good shoulder.

Ty stood and leaned over to shake Harrison’s hand again. “It’s a relief to see you doing well, sir.”

Harrison cracked half a smile, which told Zane that he liked Ty quite a lot. “Welcome to the C and G,” he said instead of good-bye.

They were driving away from the large colonial-style mansion, and Ty had just remembered to turn his phone back on when Zane spoke again.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” Zane said, shaking his head as he guided the truck down the long dirt driveway.

“I was going to call and tell you I’d be coming, but I know you. You’d have tried to come get me at the airport and stressed about it. And I was kind of looking forward to surprising you.”

Zane hit the brakes, veering off the private road onto a flat, sandy piece of land that looked just like all the other flat, sandy pieces of land surrounding them.

“What are you doing?” Ty asked, worried that he might have upset Zane by coming unannounced.

Zane jerked his seatbelt off and threw the truck into park. He left it running, though, the air conditioning blasting to ward off the blazing heat outside. Ty watched him in alarm, but then Zane leaned sideways and crawled across the bench seat to grab him and kiss him messily.

Ty flailed, a hand going out to drag down the window as he tried to keep his balance, but Zane pulled him sideways and twisted him, toppling both of them over and into the passenger side door. He grunted as his head banged against the window, but he wrapped his arms around Zane, heedless of the knock on the head or the whatever-it-was sticking into his back or the seatbelt that might strangle him if Zane pulled him again.

“You’re incredible, you know that? I’m so goddamned lucky to have you,” Zane said before stealing another kiss. Ty could only grunt in response.

He had to shove at Zane’s chest when the kiss got too heated, holding him at bay with both hands, trapped against the door panel and looking up into those dark eyes he’d missed so much. “I refuse to let you grope me in the cab of a truck in your parents’ driveway,” he said, laughing as Zane began to chuckle.

Zane sat back, nodding and straightening his shirt. Ty shifted and pulled at his jeans. They’d gotten far too tight.

“So, if we’re not staying in the big house, where are we staying?” he asked as Zane pulled the truck back onto the road.

“Guesthouse. It’s so much smoother if I’m not under the same roof as my mother.” He glanced at Ty and leered. “And no one to hear you scream.”

“I’m down with that,” Ty drawled, smirking as he watched Zane. He was wearing dark jeans and cowboy boots, paired with a soft blue denim shirt that hugged his slim hips and highlighted his impressive shoulders and arms. The black Stetson on the dashboard had clearly been worn. His wavy black hair had a hat impression in it.

He looked incredible. Ty could feel his heart beating faster as he looked his lover over.

“Say something else,” Ty prompted.

“What?”

“Say something, tell me something else.”

“Okay, that’s not weird at all.”

“Please?”

Zane gave him a tolerant sigh. “The closest town to us is Dripping Springs, and it’s about a twenty-minute drive. The ranches out this way are all pretty massive and self-sufficient. The Carter Garrett Ranch is five thousand acres, the largest in the area. We raise horses mostly, but there’s also cattle, sheep, and some llamas and emus.”

“Your accent has come out,” Ty said when Zane paused.

Zane glanced at him, eyebrows raised. “What?”

“It’s . . . incredibly sexy.”

“What?”

“Say something else.”

“No, stop it,” Zane said with a laugh.

Ty grinned, unable to take his eyes off Zane. “We need to go down to the front gate. I really did leave my rental there.”

“I thought you were kidding.”

“Nope. Climbed the big-ass fence. Impressive, by the way. It’s like a castle gate and somebody forgot to build the rest of the castle.”

“Yeah, well, around here people don’t see your house or your yard or your front door. You have to impress them with your gate. And Mother is all for impressing people.”

Ty nodded. The gate to the Carter Garrett Ranch was quite beautiful: Two towers of stacked stone on either side of the drive, with a twisted metal art piece weaving between them. A sign hung from the metal, a stylized C and G intertwined with an ampersand. A simple iron gate between the towers kept visitors out.

“I’ll call and have one of the guys go fetch it,” Zane promised.

“Why do you keep the gate closed? Is it to keep livestock in or people out?”

“The ranch is open three days a week to the public. We have school trips and tour buses and people can book times for riding the trails or getting riding lessons. Supplemental income for the ranch.”

“Really? People just drive up at any given time?”

Zane shrugged. “Thursday through Saturday, yeah. So the other days they keep the gate closed, just in case people get the wrong day or get nosy.”

Ty cleared his throat, barely able to concentrate on what Zane was saying for listening to how he was saying it. Jesus, where had that accent been all these months? He wondered if Zane suppressed it or if it was just something he’d lost along the way and then had fallen back into when he’d submerged himself back home.

He waved his broken hand toward the side of the road. “Can you pull over for a minute?”

Zane shot him a concerned glance and pulled the truck to the side of the gravel driveway, putting it in park.

Ty unbuckled his seatbelt and crawled toward him. The only thing preventing him from climbing right into Zane’s lap was the steering wheel. Zane grabbed at him, laughing as they kissed again, over and over. Ty unbuckled Zane’s seatbelt, pulling at him and leaning backward, and Zane wriggled out of the seatbelt and followed, laying Ty down on the bench seat. Ty propped his foot on the door and held on as Zane dug his hands into Ty’s hair.

“Christ, why’d you have to start this?” Zane grumbled. Ty could feel his body responding, and his jeans were going to be impossible to unzip in a few minutes if this kept up. “We’re five fucking seconds from the house.”

“I missed you.” Zane felt solid against his fingers, and after a week of closing his eyes and imagining it was Zane’s touch in place of his own, Zane’s weight felt incredible against him.

“I’m not going to fuck you here,” Zane said through gritted teeth, though he appeared to be trying to convince himself and not Ty.

Ty shook his head and hummed, but he pushed his hips up against Zane’s and closed his eyes as sensation swept through him. “Does anyone else stay at this guesthouse?” he asked, voice going lower.

“No,” Zane growled. He bent to kiss Ty’s chin, and then kissed and nipped along his jawline until he reached Ty’s neck and began to suck. “We’ll have the whole place to ourselves.”

Ty groaned, squirming under him. “Are there washing machines at this guesthouse?”

“Yeah, why?” Zane whispered against Ty’s ear.

Ty answered by delving into a messy, hungry kiss. He thrust up against Zane, rubbing their cocks together through the thick denim of their jeans.

“Jesus, Ty,” Zane ground out. He shoved his hand under Ty, dragging his fingers against Ty’s shoulder blades as he pushed their hips together. Ty gasped, thrust back, desire flowing between them in a feedback loop of desperate need.

Zane lapped at his lips, forcing his way in to lick and suck at Ty’s as the kisses got messier and harder. They didn’t even bother trying to unbutton their jeans, just rutted against each other. Ty rolled his hips to increase the friction. They were like teenagers necking, stealing a moment that couldn’t be put off one second longer.

Zane shouted his name, clamping down on him so hard that Ty bowed his back to keep from being hurt. When he realized Zane was coming against him, he let go of the last vestiges of his pride and self-control as well, clutching at Zane and gritting his teeth against a moan as he came in his jeans.

It was a good mile before they hit a curve around a copse of trees that brought a group of buildings into view. Ty had seen the turn-off when he’d walked up the driveway, but he hadn’t paid it much attention at the time.

Zane stopped in front of the house, though he didn’t cut the engine. “This is the guesthouse.”

Ty nodded and looked around. There was a garage made to look like a barn, and a storage shed built like a carriage house. The house itself was a cabin, the bucolic façade broken only by solar panels on the roof and a satellite bolted to the side. Ty glanced over at Zane, unsure of what to say now. He’d known Zane and his family had money, but he hadn’t realized until setting foot on the ranch that they were downright loaded. It took serious coin to keep a ranch like this running.

Zane glanced over at him but didn’t press for a comment. “I hope you’ll consider it home for a while.”

Ty enjoyed it when Zane got a little on the sentimental side. He was so sweet and vulnerable, it was hard not to love him. “I’ll do that.”

Zane nodded, smiling.

Ty pointed at him sternly. “As long as I get a hat. And boots. Red ones. And I want a belt buckle bigger than my hand,” he added as he held up his broken hand.

Zane was laughing as Ty rattled on. “I can handle the hat and the boots,” he said. “But I draw the line at the belt buckle.” He grabbed the keys and unfastened his seatbelt.

“But why?”

Zane reached over and dug his fingers into the front of Ty’s jeans, which were still a mess from their foray into illicit groping. “I’m not breaking my hand when I want to get into your pants.”

Ty snorted. “Fair enough. But don’t be grabby, it’s rude.” He smacked at Zane’s hand. “And wash your hands.” Grinning, Zane let him loose, then opened his door and climbed out of the truck.

Ty hopped out and reached into the bed of the truck to retrieve his bags, looking around at the house and trying to ignore how uncomfortable his jeans were. He liked the place. It was small and almost quaint, with hints of modern luxuries hidden behind the rustic details. He followed Zane through the little gate and up to the door. Zane didn’t get out his keys; the door was unlocked.

Most of the inside was open up to the two-story pitched roof, with only a bedroom loft to break the space, and the back of the house was all glass, looking out to rolling hills and pasture. A huge stone fireplace dominated one wall, and a couple of comfortable-looking leather couches faced it. The furniture was minimal but functional.

Zane walked through the main room to open a sliding door that led out to a wraparound deck. A cross-breeze started up that was almost cool. Then he turned and looked at Ty. “How about we just lose the truck keys and stay awhile?”

“Will we have to barricade the door?”

Zane sniffed. “Nah. Although, as soon as Annie learns you’re here, she’ll barge in like a Tasmanian devil and demand to meet you.”

Ty barked a laugh. Zane crossed the room back to Ty, pulling off his denim shirt and tossing it on a chair nearby.

“What’d you do with the cats?”

“I asked Alston to feed them every night on his way home.”

“Alston?” Zane said, his voice going alarmingly high. “What if he goes upstairs? What if he sees all my shit in the closet?”

“It’s okay, Zane.”

“Ty!”

“He’s scared of Smith and Wesson. And I told them not to let him past the first step.”

“Ty,” Zane said in exasperation.

Ty knew it made Zane nervous, but that was half the fun of it. He just raised an eyebrow and smiled.

Zane sighed and returned the smile, looking almost unwilling. “Thank you for coming.” He stepped forward and pulled Ty into a kiss.

Ty returned it with something like relief. After so long apart, it was wonderful to get that kiss without the added urgency of needing to get off. Zane stepped back just long enough to unbutton his jeans and then Ty’s, pushing them down so they could both kick out of them. Ty’s boxer briefs went next, falling alongside Zane’s. Then Zane slid his arms around Ty’s waist so he could hold him close, drawing the kiss out. Ty hummed as he dragged both hands up Zane’s arms and started to tug on his undershirt, but just as things were really starting to get interesting, the phone in the pocket of his jeans began to vibrate, followed by a loud sound that could only be described as an old car horn.

Ty grunted in annoyance as Zane stepped back.

“What the hell was that?”

Ty snorted. “I had to get a new phone. Got one like yours.”

The phone honked at them again, and Ty bent to find it.

“What happened to your other one?”

“Relish. Long story.” Ty rummaged through the pockets of his jeans. He held up his cast. “Had to get a new cast, too. Everything got . . . I was covered in condiments.”