Ty got out of the car, joined by Clancy just in time to hold the man down for her as she disarmed and handcuffed him.

A crowd was gathering, laughing and pointing, applauding and booing.

Ty had to turn away from their prisoner so he wouldn’t laugh when he called in the arrest. But his phone was full of mustard and pickle bits and wouldn’t turn on. Alston joined them, holding his side and wincing as he pulled his phone out to make the call. Then he called Perrimore and asked him to bring one of the cars to them.

“What the hell happened to you?” Alston asked Ty as he looked him up and down.

Ty looked at his shirtfront—gray with a huge badge on it, and the words “Gravity – It’s the Law” printed across the top. It was now covered with splatters of ketchup, mustard, relish, and chili.

“You smell delicious,” Alston said with a smirk.

“Bite me, Scott.”

“I might, Hot Dog; I didn’t finish my lunch back there.”

Ty couldn’t help but snort.

“Hot Dog. That one might stick,” Clancy said. When Ty looked at her, she snapped a picture of him with her phone.

“Really?”

“For Garrett,” Clancy said, eyes wide and sincere.

“Hey, pretty lady,” the streaker said to Clancy. He was oblivious to his own ridiculousness.

Ty and Alston both turned to look at him, eyebrows climbing. Whatever this guy was on, it was good stuff. The tiger on his chest was one of the worst pieces of art Ty had ever seen, and it got worse as the man moved. He was jutting his hips out, shameless, knees rocking like he was hearing music. His hair was slicked back and he had a full-blown porn ’stache, complete with gel in it to make it curl upward.

“Is that a mirror in your pocket, baby?” he said to Clancy with a goofy leer. “’Cause I can sure see myself in your pants.”

Clancy rolled her eyes as she checked her weapon and stuffed it into her holster.

Ty looked the guy up and down. “Buddy, you don’t have the sack to wear her pants.”

“Damn straight,” Clancy said.

Ty held his hand up and she gave him a high-five as she strolled away. Alston was laughing as Ty pulled a twenty out of his wallet. He handed it to the taxi driver through the window. “For the car wash.”

“Lunch is on Grady!”

Zane lay awake in bed, listening to the sounds of the house settling and staring at the darkened ceiling.

He looked at his phone, sitting on the bedside table, then picked it up to check the time. Nearly three in the morning; there was no way he could call Ty and not wake him. And wanting to hear his lover’s voice was not a good enough reason to wake him.

He scrolled through the photo roll, surprised at the homesickness that came over him as he looked at picture after picture of him and Ty. Most of them were taken from arm’s length, with Ty in his aviators and Zane smiling like someone who hadn’t been broken by life.

Some were of Ty alone, photos that Zane had taken without Ty’s knowledge. Only one was of Ty without clothes. Maybe. And, of course, there was the photo Clancy had sent him this afternoon, with no explanation for why Ty was covered in condiments and looking like he’d just run a marathon. Zane had to laugh, though. He couldn’t wait to hear that story. They hadn’t worked today, so whatever had happened was merely a result of Ty’s unspeakable ability to attract weird things.

Zane stopped flipping through the photos when he came across his absolute favorite. He and Ty had taken a weekend trip to Virginia Beach to celebrate Ty’s birthday on Memorial Day weekend. They’d been standing on the beach in front of their hotel, watching a thunderstorm roll in from the sea. Everyone else had scrambled inside, and while Zane had tried to convince Ty to go in as well, Ty had chosen to stay and watch. The sky had been an impressive velvet blue, with rays of sunshine punching through as the blackness encroached. The look on Ty’s face had been serene and somehow melancholy as he watched the storm whip up the tide and thrash against the shore in front of them.

Zane had snapped the picture with his phone without Ty knowing, leaving the phone near his hip and capturing Ty from below. Ty had never caught on that Zane was watching him instead of the storm, so wrapped up in whatever it was about storms out on the ocean that seemed to fascinate Ty like they did.

When the rain had hit the beach and Zane had turned to retreat to their room, Ty grabbed him instead and started a waltz in the downpour. When they finished the dance, people applauded from their balconies. It had been the first taste of what life with Ty might be like when they came out.

It had also been one of the most romantic moments of his life. He would never be able to top Ty’s off-the-cuff romance with anything he planned ahead of time. He intended to spend the rest of his life trying, though.

His heart twisted as he looked at the photo, and a bittersweet feeling settled in his chest. It was still sinking in that he had a family in West Virginia now, a family that knew he and Ty loved each other and accepted that for what it was.

And now he was back in Texas with so much uncertainty swirling around him that it made him nauseous just to think of it. His mother’s constant badgering, his father injured and on the warpath, the possibility that whatever was happening on the ranch was just starting instead of ending . . .

And on top of all of that, Zane couldn’t help imagining what it would be like to be able to bring Ty here and introduce him to his family as the love of his life.

Before he knew what he was doing, he’d clicked back over to his favorite numbers, hit Ty’s picture, and pressed the call button.

It took a few rings, but Ty answered with a hoarse, “What?”

Zane smiled and closed his eyes again, breathing out a sigh of relief. He could just imagine Ty stretched out in their bed, sheets tangled around his muscular body. He’d be warm and pliant, his fingers gentle against Zane’s skin as he reached out to him. He’d smell faintly of Old Spice, and his hair, which had grown, would be just long enough for Zane to twirl around his fingers and hold onto as they kissed.

“Hey,” Zane whispered, voice choked on the sudden rush of sentiment and arousal.

“Zane? Are you okay? What’s wrong? Is it your dad?”

“Nothing. Nothing’s wrong, I just miss you.”

Ty was silent, and Zane could hear his harsh breaths as he sat up in bed. “What happened?”

“Nothing, I just . . . I’m lying here in this huge bed and I can’t sleep.”

Ty sighed. “I miss you too, Zane.”

“I’m sorry I woke you.”

“It’s okay. Today was a slow day, it’s fine.”

Zane narrowed his eyes. “I know your definition of a slow day, and I got Clancy’s picture.”

“Yeah, well . . .”

Zane heard a harsh breath and a shuffle of sheets. He suspected Ty had just stretched back out in bed, and the mental image of his lover was enough to slide his hand beneath the band of his boxers. His palm rested on his hip, fingers grazing his hardening cock.

“Are you as miserable and lonely as I am?” Ty asked, sounding pitiful.

Zane swallowed hard and looked around the bedroom of the guesthouse. He’d been living here for a full week now. The king-sized bed was far too big, the room too empty and impersonal. The television offered no company, the art and trinkets held no memories for him. Even the view out the window had grown unfamiliar.

“Yes,” he said, almost choking on the word.

“Zane,” Ty whispered, pulling Zane back. “I know what you’re doing.”

Zane found himself smiling at Ty’s raspy voice, taking himself in hand to start a slow stroke. “What am I doing?”

“Same thing I am.”

Zane’s breath caught on an exhale. “Ty.”

“Go on, Zane. Close your eyes.”

Zane hit his phone’s speaker button, laid it beside his head on the pillow, and closed his eyes like Ty had asked. His hand squeezed and pulled, his actions slow and sensual, mimicking the way Ty touched him when they were fooling around. His other hand dragged across his abdomen, fingers sliding over ridges of hard muscle.

With Ty’s rasping voice in his ear, Zane could imagine it. His fingers dragging over Ty’s body, finding the occasional ridge of a scar, digging into those incredible muscles as they tensed. He could imagine Ty’s hand wrapped around his cock, thumb sliding over the head, palm massaging his balls. He could picture himself under Ty, his hand between them, stroking Ty’s cock as Ty ground against him.

Zane gasped and rolled his hips, stroking faster as Ty’s seductive voice whispered to him from the pillow beside his head.

“I’d give anything to see you do that,” Ty said, voice hitching. “Come for me, Zane. I need to hear it.”

Zane knew from the timbre of Ty’s voice that he was touching himself as he lay alone in their bed. It was enough to make Zane’s entire body tingle. He could picture it because Ty had done it for him several times, brought himself off as Zane watched.

He shoved the comforter and the sheets down past his hips and his boxers followed. The cold air of the room hit his skin, but he didn’t care as he kicked free of everything restraining his movements.

“Baby,” he ground out, pleading with Ty to keep speaking. Ty did, murmuring to him, telling him how to touch himself, what he would do to him if he were there with him, how much he loved to hear the sounds Zane made. Zane didn’t try to curtail his moans and groans, letting Ty hear them, letting Ty use them to reach his own end.

“You sound so good,” Ty whispered, voice deep and harsh.

The rasp of his voice covered Zane, wrapping him in warmth and pleasure. Zane pushed his hips off the mattress, his entire body going into spasms.

“Come on, Zane!” Ty yelled, sounding just as desperate as he often did when Zane was inside him.

Zane shouted and reached up to dig his fingers into the headboard as he came. His hand moved faster, then his fingers massaged his balls for an even stronger orgasm as he came all over his belly and even up onto his chest. He could hear Ty talking him through it, but he didn’t register the words until his breathing had calmed.

“Zane,” Ty said, his voice sounding far away.

Zane reached for the phone and turned off the speaker, then held it to his ear. The cold air hit him as he calmed, and he knew he’d have to get out of bed to at least wipe down with a damp towel before he could sleep. The stress was gone, though, and he told himself there was no reason to be lonely. Ty was out there, waiting for him, missing him.

“As good as that was, I prefer it in person,” Zane said.

Ty chuckled, the sound dark and familiar. “Now go clean yourself off. Look at you, you should be ashamed.”

“Ditto, you pervert,” Zane grunted, smiling.

“Goodnight, Zane.”

“Night, Ty.”

The call ended without any further fuss or pleasantries. Zane lay awake for a while longer, shocked by how a simple call and a few minutes listening to Ty’s voice could turn his outlook around.

He fell asleep with the phone still in his hand.

“Dad, what were you thinking, going out there alone?” Zane asked.

He pushed away from the railing of the big house’s second-floor balcony and frowned at his father, who was sitting in one of the lounge chairs and staring out over the land.

He was shocked by the difference in the man. His hair had gone from steel gray to almost white in the last year or so. His face was thinner, bordering on gaunt, and though Zane was attributing much of it to his injuries, he was concerned by the lack of life in his father’s dark eyes. The only things that hadn’t changed were the impressive horseshoe mustache and the deep resonance of his voice.

“I wasn’t thinking about getting shot, if that’s what you’re after.”

Zane snorted and turned to look out over the land. “You should get some more help, you know.”

“I’m doing just fine.”

Zane snorted. “You’re either stubborn or cheap.”

“I’m lazy, there’s a difference. Takes work to hire a new man I can trust.”

Zane laughed, then pulled his phone out of his back pocket and checked it for the fifth time since they’d gotten home. No texts or calls.

“Still. Edges of the ranch are getting away from you.”

Harrison frowned and looked out at the view of the sprawling Hill Country: acres and acres of unrelenting, rolling green, covered with prickly pear cactus and scrub trees that made passage on foot nearly impossible. It was a beautiful, foreboding landscape, and every inch they could see from their vantage point belonged to the Carter Garrett ranch. It was over five-thousand acres, and Harrison only employed two dozen or so ranch hands.

Zane leaned forward, watching his father. “Dad.”

“Weren’t you calling someone?” Harrison said with a wave of his hand.

Zane grunted in annoyance, but nodded. “I’ll be right back, just need to check in at work.”

“Take your time.”

Zane paced away, heading toward the other end of the balcony as he dialed Ty. He’d tried on the way to the hospital this morning, but hadn’t been able to reach his partner. He’d tried several times since bringing his father home, and each call had been kicked directly to voicemail. The phone didn’t ring this time, either, just sent him to Ty’s voicemail yet again. Zane hung up without leaving a message. A heavy, ominous feeling began to settle in his chest. There was no good reason Ty wouldn’t answer his phone at this time of day.

He glanced back at his father, then dialed his work line.

“This is Special Agent Tyler Grady’s desk,” a woman answered.