Heart of a Cowboy

February 20, 2026 by
Contributors: Jodi Payne, B.A. Tortuga
Series: Higher Elevation #1
Genre: , , , ,
Release Date: October 29, 2019
Pages: 240

Heart of a Cowboy

Colby McBride is a hardworking cowboy trying to make ends meet laying tile in Colorado. A loner by choice, Colby finds his peace camping in the mountains outside Boulder. Gordon James is a sophisticated restaurateur who owns not one, but two successful establishments in downtown Boulder. He is devoted to his work and wealthy enough to get what he wants. The men are friends, but sparks fly when Colby falls in love and decides to show Gordon how much fun a cowboy can be.

They’re just beginning to explore their relationship when a family tragedy leaves Gordon with custody of his five-year-old niece. Colby comes from a huge family and is eager to help with Olivia and to prove his worth to Gordon. But neither of them is ready for the tremendous changes to their already busy lives, or for how this new relationship with Olivia challenges them, complicating the way they interact with each other.

They say opposites attract, but can these two different men work together to join their disparate lives and form a family?

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EXCERPT

Chapter One

IT WAS a beautiful day. The sun was bright, and a light breeze ruffled Gordon’s hair as he got out of his Jeep Wrangler. He opened up the back, pulled out a heavy, square cardboard box and a bag with two bottles of wine, and then headed into the restaurant.

He stopped and set the two bottles of wine on the bar next to a man bent over some paperwork. “Hey, Oscar.”

“Hey, boss.” Oscar was the manager at Delmara. Gordon had hired him many years ago, not long after he opened the place. It had been Oscar’s brilliant idea to add tapas to the menu, and look where they were now. Oscar was constantly proving himself more valuable.

Gordon had asked Oscar if he’d be interested in running his new farm-to-table place, Gaia, when it opened a year ago, but Oscar had turned the job down. He said he knew what he was good at and it wasn’t yuppie tomatoes. Gotta love him.

“Oscar, these two bottles are for Mr. White. He has a reservation tonight and requested them specifically. The first one is on the house because I want him to sponsor part of the spring mentoring fundraiser. Make sure he gets his usual table and Becky as his server.”

“Got it. And is he bringing his… er….”

“Date. Call her his date. Remind Becky.” Becky had a few other choice words for her, he knew. He understood; after all, the woman, drunk at the time, had loudly accused Becky of flirting with White the last time they were in. But Becky would be fine. White liked her and tipped well, and she liked her bread buttered.

Oscar laughed. “I’ll do that. Oh, boss? Don’t forget that the ladies’ room has a….”

“Got the tile.” He pointed to the box under his arm. “But I need to make that call. I’ll go do that right now. Thanks, Oscar.”

Gordon hurried back to his office. The fucking special-order tile in that bathroom was costing him a fortune, but scheduling the work would be easy at least. His tile guy was also a buddy, and always easy to bribe with good beer. He closed his office door and dialed.

“Yo, sugarbutt. How goes it?” Colby answered him with a low drawl that reminded him of incredible whiskey poured over sugar cubes.

He put the box down on his desk and collapsed into his desk chair, grinning. “Hey, Colby. Listen, I need you to come by and install that replacement tile I ordered for the ladies’ room at Delmara. You got time this afternoon? I have a beer with your name on it.”

“For you? I’ll make time.” Colby laughed, utterly unashamed about wanting his beer. “You might have to have me dirty, though. I’ve been loading my truck with tile boxes all morning, and I’m covered in ceramic dust.”

That was Colby, always coming off a hard day’s work somewhere. “Please. Do you ever show up clean? What time will I see you?”

“Is four too late? Then I won’t have to run off.”

“Four it is. The bathroom stall has been taped off for a week. It can go one more day.” He still needed to head upstairs and change. He spent nearly every evening front of house, and he had a VIP coming in tonight, so he needed to be on time. Oh shit, he needed to pick up his suit at the cleaners. Okay, that errand was next.

“You’ll have to let it cure twenty-four hours anyway.” Something crashed, and he heard, “I swear to God, y’all. You break those tiles and I will personally rip off your heads and shit down your neck.”

“Oh, listen to you go all boss. Should I let you go?”

“Yeah, yeah. I got a reputation to uphold and shit. See you at four, man.”

Gordon laughed. Colby’s voice had dropped a whole octave. “Your secret is safe with me. See you at four.”

A raspberry sounded, and then Colby hung up on him. There was something about Colby—this genuine joy when it came to anything from working to shooting pool to watching a movie—it made the guy fun to hang out with. And Gordon needed some fun once in a while. He loved his job, but it could really eat up his personal time.

Still grinning, he put his phone back in his pocket. He cut open the box to check out the tile he’d ordered. It was the right stuff. He’d just leave it on his desk for Colby. He took a second to look through the mail Oscar had left for him. Bills, bills, and more bills as usual, but also the package he’d been expecting—the newest addition to his porn collection. He left that on his desk unopened and headed out to the bar.

“Hey, Oscar, I have to run out and get my suit, and I’m going to stop by Gaia and make sure they’re good for the weekend. I’ll be back by three. Colby McBride will be by around four to see about the tile. Send him to my office when he gets here?”

“Oh, great. Will do.”

“What do the reservations look like?”

“We’re packed, boss. Tonight and tomorrow, both.”

“Nice.”

“He’ll be out by six, right?”

“I’ll make sure he is.” It wasn’t a lot of work; it’d be okay. They could hang out and have that beer after Colby was done. Damn priorities.

“All right, I’m off.” Gordon brushed the wrinkles out of his shirt and headed out the door.

God, this gorgeous day. No wonder they were expecting a packed house. People were out everywhere. Nothing was as good for business as the promise of springtime.

After a long winter, there was nothing quite like coming alive again.

  

Chapter Two

“MCBRIDE? YOU get that utility room floor done?”

“Would I be out here looking for my draw if I didn’t, man? Y’all know I do good work.” Come on, motherfucker. Pay me. I got to tile a bathroom and see my man. He reckoned it didn’t matter a bit whether Gordon knew he was Colby’s. That was just details. Eventually he would make Gordon see him as more than a beer buddy.

If he could start his weekend with a check in one hand and a beer in the other, he would be a happy little cowboy. He’d started one job, picked up supplies for another, and trimmed out the third. He was a busy man.

Thank God for that.

“You’re the best guy out there,” Lou admitted grudgingly, handing over his draw. “And I gotta say, you will work for money.”

“I’m good that way.” He pocketed the check after peeking to make sure all the numbers were there. “Thank you, sir. I will be on the Williams’s job come Monday. Should take me a day and a half, give or take.”

“Then you’ll work that Best Western?”

“Just the lobby fireplace, man. You can get any asshole to slap down twelve-bys on the rooms.” He knew what his happy ass was worth, and it was worth more than mindless tile work. He liked to be pushed some.

“Just the lobby.” Lou rolled his eyes like dice. “The owner’s wife has ideas.”

“Faboo.” Something else he was pretty good at was talking to folks. He liked people, so for the most part, people liked him. “I can talk to her Tuesday afternoon or Wednesday, huh? Let her show me what all she wants.”

Lou snorted. “Oh, I’m sure she’ll love whatever you have to offer. Try for Tuesday, yeah? I want you done over there by Friday. I’ve got a couple of big jobs I’ve bid on for the week after, and there might be some design work on one of them. I could use you.”

“Just call.” Lou paid on time and, so far, didn’t seem to be too much of a dick, so Colby gave the big man priority. “Have a good weekend, sir.”

“You too, cowboy.”

He tipped his gimme cap and headed out to his F-250, then hauled his butt up into the cab. “Okay. Let’s get this show on the road.”

Colby cracked his window, turned Luke Bryan up loud, and put on his sunglasses. Damn, he did love to have him some springtime, even if it came later up here than it did back home. The snow was gone, the trees were budding, and the sun was making promises that it might be time to grill out wearing nothing but his cutoffs.

Between the weather and his music, the forty-minute drive from the worksite just flew on by. Traffic into town was pretty heavy but moving, and it wasn’t long before he was pulling into the lot at Delmara. He saw Gordy’s Wrangler, looking a damn sight cleaner than any Jeep he’d ever seen back home. Figured. That Wrangler probably hadn’t seen a dirt road in its life. He parked right next to the shiny Jeep, tossed his sunglasses on the seat, grabbed his tool belt, and headed inside.

“Ah, Mr. McBride.” Gordy’s manager waved him over to the bar. Hell if he could remember the guy’s name.

“Yes, sir. Mr. James called. Says he got a job for me?”

“Yes, but he wants you to stop by his office first. You remember where you’re going?”

“Think so.”

“I’ll buzz him. You can head on back.”

He headed through the restaurant to the office, thinking that the tile floor in the hall probably ought to be replaced. It was pretty beat-up.

Gordy’s office door opened before he even had a chance to knock. “Hey, man. Come on in.”

“Hey, honey. You wanting me to get to work on that bathroom, huh?” Look at that hot motherfucker. Colby did like him some stud.

Gordy closed the office door. He turned around, and Colby got a good view of his five-o’clock shadow and his crazy green eyes. “I’d really like to take a break now, but we open in two hours, and those ladies aren’t going to like you in their bathroom much.”

“I live to serve, honey, and your fancy-assed customers might be took aback by my Wrangler butt.”

“They’re not that fancy. You’re just that cowboy.” Gordy laughed, blond bangs falling in his eyes. He swept them away the way he did, one hand carding through them and then that little toss of his head. Gordy gave him one of them weird-assed man-hug deals, bicep popping through his shirt like some high-dollar Popeye. “Thanks for coming by. Now get to work.”

“Bossy old man,” he teased and opened the office door real quick before Gordy could react. “You put the tiles in the bathroom?”

“Oh shit. No, they’re on my desk.” Gordy picked up the box and handed it over. “Here. And don’t make me hound you for an invoice like last time.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m on it.” He grabbed the box, nodded, then made his way to the bathroom. He was going to have to set up his wet saw to trim around the toilet….

Before long he was lost in the steadiness of the work, setting the tile, making sure everything was just so, and the time just flew by.

“Hey, looking good in here. Not that I would expect anything less.” Gordy set a cold bottle of beer down on the floor next to Colby. “We open in a half an hour, you close?”

“You know it. I’ll pop in tomorrow afternoon and grout it before y’all open.” He grabbed the bottle and downed half the brew. Oh, hoppy goodness. One thing about hanging with a restaurant guy? You didn’t have to drink so much Coors Light.

“That would be great. Really appreciate it. Come on up when you’re done if you want. I need a shower, and I have to put on a tie for a VIP tonight, but I’ve got some time to hang out. Back elevator’s running again.” Pretty neat that Gordy owned the building and lived two floors above the restaurant.

“Spiffy! Sure.” Man in a suit. Yay. “I got to go load my truck. You got a sign for this stall? Someone steps in here on this thin-set and they’ll slide and hurt themselves and ruin my tile job.”

“Can’t have that.” Gordy winked at him and then looked around. “Oh. I thought there was a rope and… yeah. I’ll get Oscar to set something up in here. Do your thing and then come on up. Door’ll be open.”

“Yessir. I’m on it.” It took him two trips to load up the truck and get his shit locked in his toolbox. He finished his beer on the way and took a second to wipe his face off.

Lord have mercy, he was filthy. Good thing he’d warned Mr. Fancy Tie before he showed.

He headed around to the back of the building and took the stairs instead of the elevator. The stairs were more convenient anyway; the fire door on the third floor opened up right next to Gordy’s front door.

He let himself in, as he had done many times before, and was overwhelmed as usual by the size of the damn TV in the front room. He kept telling Gordy to move it to the back wall, but the guy was as stubborn as a hog on ice. Otherwise, though, the apartment was comfortable and not nearly as showy as Gordy could probably afford to be if he wanted. Everything was new and shiny, but the couches were comfy, and the decor was basically gay bachelor pad. Framed Stonewall poster on one wall, rack of DVDs, mostly porn, under the TV, the usual. Broadway soundtracks lined up next to the stereo.

“That you?”

“No, sir!”

Some ancient rock band was on the radio. Gordy always had music going. Colby just shook his head.

Gordy came out of the kitchen still in his jeans but nothing else except the two bottles of beer he was carrying.

“You get mugged on your way up?”

“What?”

“You lost your shirt.”

Gordy laughed, holding out one of the bottles. “Have another beer, cowboy. Your jokes aren’t funny yet.”

“Now, now. Ain’t it you that ought to be having another one so I start getting funnier?” Lord have mercy, he did love to look at that man. He could watch Gordon James wander around his so-fancy condo for days.

Well, maybe not days. That would lead to long-term blue balls.

“Yeah, that’s never worked. There’s no hope for you.” Gordy took a swig of his beer. “Oh!” He pointed to the coffee table. “New porn in the mail.”

“Lord, honey. Don’t you know that’s all on the computer now?”

Gordy shook his head. “That’s vintage, my friend. The early bareback stuff. Low edit, tons of fucking. That’s not your cheap internet thrill. You should borrow it.”

“Low edit—what the fuck does that even mean, man? Seriously.” Tons of fucking he got.

“No cuts? No kissing and then cut to the money shots?” Gordon sounded a little snooty about it. Like this was something everybody knew but Colby. “You know, the whole scene—foreplay to finale.”

“Not all of us are conness… connoisseurs and shit. Me? I like a nice long bout of on-screen fucking. That way if your mind wanders….” He did love to tease.

“Your mind or your hand?” Gordon snorted. “I’m with you, the longer the better.” He drew his words out, and they had a little heat and a little growl in them. “Mm.”

“Listen to you.” He’d like for Gordon to listen to his happy ass, just for a second, just long enough to prove that he was man enough to rock Gordon’s world.

Gordon laughed. “One of these days we should hit the clubs in Denver. You get over there much?”

“Once a month or so. Depends on whether I have to run over for a specialty tile in the afternoon. That makes it easier.” And he got to dance. Damn, he did love to two-step.

“I think it’s been—God, I don’t know—maybe five or six weeks since I’ve been there. I used to go every Sunday. Last few weeks I’ve been watching a game or bad movies with this tile guy on Sundays. Or losing at pool. I’m still waiting for that chance to redeem myself, by the way.”

Few weeks? It had been three months. “Oh, now. I’ll play you any time, but you ain’t got redemption coming.”

“I might if you’d drink anything stronger than beer.”

“Country don’t mean dumb, Gordy.” He winked over. Some things were real important—knowing when to drink and when to make a bet were two of them.

“Nope. And apparently a college degree doesn’t make a man wise either.” Gordy winked right back at him. “Oh, speaking of wise. Have you got a couple of work days open in the next week or two? I’m having a new shower installed in the master bath, and I want to do something kind of modern and flashy in there with the tile after. I told them I knew a guy.”

“Yeah? Sure. We got lots of options. I’ll bring a few things over—wood-grain tile is huge right now. I did a bath the other day with glass pieces in the grout line. It looked like diamonds or some shit. Too fucking cool.”

“Glass? How cool is that? Must take forever to do, though, huh?”

He shrugged, took a long swig of beer. “Depends on what you want. They have some strips you can lay in. You do know a guy, after all.”

“Yep. A very reliable guy that does top-notch work. Thanks. Just let me know when you can show me the samples.” Gordy finished off his beer. “Drinking before work. Good thing it’s not full-on summer yet.” He set his bottle on the coffee table. “I need a shower. You want to hang out and watch the cable or whatever, go ahead. I might even have some food in the fridge.”

“You mean you’re not worried about your virtue?”

Gordon snorted and tossed Colby the remote. “Don’t drink all my beer, cowboy.” He headed down the hall toward his bedroom.

One day, man. One day I will have my shit together enough and I will make my move. Colby watched that tight little ass as Gordon disappeared into his bedroom.

He could be patient. In theory. Really he could.

He hoped.

Title: Heart of a Cowboy
Published by: Tygerseye Publishing, LLC
ASIN: B09Y649SB5
ISBN13: 978-1951011741

Tending Tyler

April 11, 2021 by
Contributors: Jodi Payne, BA Tortuga
Series: On the Ranch Series #1
Genre: , , , , , ,
Release Date: May 18, 2021

Bartender, Tyler McKeehan, feels like his whole life is on hold. All he does is work and sleep, because he just doesn’t know how to move on with his day to day after the shocking loss of his best friend. When he meets Matt at Les’s Bar where he works in New York, though, he thinks he might have found someone who can nudge him out of his rut. The cowboy seems to live on fast forward, but at the same time, this kind, generous man makes Tyler feel wanted and safe.

 

Ranch owner, Matthew Whitehead, is just in New York for a visit. But when he runs into Tyler at Les’s Bar, he can tell right away that Tyler is special. Matt’s family thinks he makes snap decisions, and they worry about him, but he knows what he wants, and even after just a few days, he’s willing to fight to keep Tyler in his life. When Matt has to head back to Texas, he tells Tyler to come visit him and meet his kids. Soon.

 

Tyler doesn’t know if he can just pick up and go to Texas, but he misses Matt’s affection and calming presence, so when life gets too overwhelming, he makes the call. Between Matt’s huge, boisterous family, his children, his busy ranch, and the vast differences between New York City and Texas, Tyler wonders if he should go back to his old life every day. Matt is determined to keep Tyler right where he is, but can they overcome the odds against them and make a new life together?

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Chapter One 

 

Four to closing was a long shift at the bar, especially on a weekend, but Tyler didn’t mind it. He was busy all night long, and he usually went home with good tip money in his pocket and just exhausted enough that he could actually sleep. Sometimes he slept so long he’d get up, shower, and go right back to the bar for his next shift. 

Busy was good. The busier the better. 

He was on with Peter tonight, and they had it handled. They’d been working together so long they didn’t have to think, so they moved around each other easily and got the job done. 

“Need ice!” Peter called out before disappearing through the swinging door next to the bar. 

He gave Peter a nod and kept making drinks like it was the only thing left in the world. Which it kind of was. 

Margarita. Bloody Mary. Cosmo. Three daiquiris—peach, strawberry mango. Five beers. 

He caught sight of a cowboy hat and pulled Dex a Coke. Dex was the boss’s best friend’s guy, and the man tipped like a dream. It served him well to keep the guy happy. 

Tyler ran it over, shocked as hell to come face-to-face with a silver fox that was, unquestioningly Not Dex. 

It threw him, and it took him a second to snap out of it. He set the Coke down on the bar, blinking at the stranger. “Hey.” Friend of Dex’s maybe? Not too many cowboy hats walked in here. “Sorry. What can I get you?” 

“Coors and a shot of Cuervo, please, sir.” The voice was low, gravelly, and pure southern. God, that was strangely ominous. 

“Gold or Silver?” 

“Silver, please.” He got a smile, a nod, the man holding his gaze. 

“You got it.” Ominous, but polite. Kind smile. Taller than Dex. 

Tyler danced around Peter who was dumping ice from two big buckets into the freezer. Coors was on tap, and he got that started, then reached for the Cuervo. They were going through the tequila tonight for sure. Probably the warm weather. 

Well, not this guy. This guy just looked like a tequila guy. He poured the shot generously. 

“Coors and Cuervo.” He set them down on the bar. “Running a tab?” 

“Yessir.” A card was handed over, easy as you please. “Y’all are busy as a one-legged man at a butt-kicking competition.” 

That made him grin. “I like that. Yes, we are. Fridays are our busiest night usually.” He glanced at the card out of habit, clipped it to a bill and wrote ‘Coors/Cuervo (Sil)’ on it. “Where are you from?” Matthew. The card said the man’s name was Matthew. Could be Matt or Matty, maybe. 

“Central Texas—between Austin and Houston. I got me a ranch there.” One huge, square hand was offered to him. “Matthew Whitehead. Pleased.” 

“Tyler McKeehan. Also pleased.” He shook, the hand solid and strong in his. “Welcome to New York.” 

“Can we get—” The guy sitting next to Matthew tapped his glass. 

“Sure, no problem.” He poured a couple of refills. He was about to ask Matthew what brought him to the city, typical bartender small-talk type stuff, when one of them stopped him. 

“Aren’t you Tyler?” 

“I…yes?” He thought they looked familiar too, but he couldn’t remember where he’d met them. 

“We thought so, we kept saying we thought you were… Uh. Yeah. Sorry about Will. We were so shocked.” 

Will. 

Tyler’s stomach twisted, and his heart started to pound. He tried to put their drinks down on the bar with shaking hands and missed, one of them dumping back toward him, but the other tipped toward Matthew. 

Matthew caught it, but the glass stem shattered in the man’s big hand. He handed Tyler the top part of the glass with blood already starting to drip. “Point me toward the washroom, if you would.” 

“Shit. Shit, I’m sorry. Fuck.” He stared at the broken glass and then at the blood in Matthew’s hand. God. Not more blood. 

“Whoa. Ty?” Peter stepped around him with a towel and handed it to Matthew. “You okay, sir? How bad is it?” 

“It’s fine, y’all. No worries. I’ll wash it off, and we’ll be good as gold.” Dark gray eyes landed on him, so quiet, so calm. “You okay, honey?” 

“Yeah.” No. He looked away; those eyes were strangely comforting but they also wanted honesty. “All good. I’m so sorry.” 

“Men’s room is around to the left.” Peter pointed in that direction and cleaned up the bar. 

“Sorry. I’ll get you guys new drinks. I’m sorry.” 

Peter stopped him. “It’s okay. I’ve got it, Ty.” 

“Oh. Yeah, okay.” He stood there for a second, dumbly, not sure what to do with himself. 

“Go make sure the cowboy is okay, man. Antibiotic cream, bandage.” Peter offered him a super quick hug. “Breathe. Go.” 

“Right. I’m good. Got it.” Because that wasn’t embarrassing or anything. He stopped by the office First Aid kit and pulled out a couple of Band-Aids, some gauze, and a tube of Neosporin, then headed for the men’s room. 

Matthew was in there, a chunk of glass on the counter, paper towels jammed in his palm. He looked up as Tyler walked in. “Hey, there. I don’t suppose y’all have a tube of superglue?” 

“Superglue.” Tyler dropped everything he’d brought on the counter and blinked at Matthew again. Did he hear that right? “Superglue? I don’t know. I can check the office. Do you need stitches? I can call…” 

“I don’t, no. I just need a little glue, honey, to push the edges together, and I’ll be right as rain.” 

“Okay… I’ll be right back.” Superglue. Seriously? Tyler jogged to the office and dug through the boss’s desk. Les’s drawers were neatly organized and he was making a mess—he’d apologize later—but he found a brand-new tube in a little cubby in the top drawer. 

Wow. Right on. He rushed back to the men’s room with it. “Superglue. I can’t believe it.” 

“Good deal. I got my smart hand, so I’ll need you to open the glue for me, okay?” 

“Oh. Sorry. Sure.” Wake up, Ty, the man needs some help here. He used the little tricky cap to open the tube. “You got this?” His hands had stopped shaking, but he wasn’t sure anybody should be trusting him with anything right now. 

“I got this, thank you, sir.” Matthew gave him a grin. “Don’t beat yourself up, huh? It was my bad.” 

“No. No, that was definitely my fault.” He covered the bloody shard of glass with a paper towel and threw it out, willing his hands not to start shaking again, then cleaned up the counter. “Shaky hands. Totally on me.” He just hadn’t heard Will’s name in a while. Every time he thought he’d put that awful image out of his mind, someone would say something, remind him, and he was staring at a bloody bathtub again. 

“Sounds like someone gave you a fright.” Matthew cleaned the blood off and dripped the glue into the meat of his hand then pushed the flap down. Sweat popped out on the man’s cheeks, and a low sound escaped. 

“Sort of.” Matthew had obviously done this a few times, but that glue had to burn. “How about I get you another shot?” 

“I think that would be a fine idea, yes. If you don’t mind.” He got another of those strange, wonderful smiles. 

“I’m on it.” He dashed out of the bathroom, but stopped and ducked his head back in. “Anyone ever tell you that you have a great smile?” 

It wasn’t until he’d left again that he realized Matthew might think he was flirting, and that just made this whole evening even more fucking awkward. 

“Is he okay?” Peter asked as Tyler pulled the tequila off the shelf. “Are you?” 

“He superglued his hand. Superglue. He glued the cut together.” Tyler shook his head. “Craziest thing ever.” He avoided the question about himself, he just didn’t know. He still felt anxious. 

“Is that for him?” 

“Yeah, on me.” The whole night would be on him. 

“Good man. Here he comes. Breathe.” 

Matthew seemed to take up the entire room, somehow, sucking the air out of it. Jeans, a white button-down, huge silver buckle. And that hat. It was like a costume, except you could tell it wasn’t. 

How was he supposed to breathe? 

“I made it a double.” He sat the glass down on the bar carefully, sliding it toward the cowboy. 

“Thank you, sir.” Matthew lifted his shot in salute, then knocked it back, humming deep in his chest. 

“Not one of my better nights. I’m sure that’s not the kind of souvenir you wanted to bring back from New York.” 

The couple that had asked about Will was gone…could this night get any worse? Les would probably hear about that. 

Matthew winked at him, and he got to see that smile again. “No worries, honey. Seriously. It’s a little cut. I don’t suppose I could get me a Coke? If I don’t slow down, y’all will have to roll me out of here at last call.” 

Matthew kept calling him “honey”. And it didn’t feel weird. Which was…well, weird. 

“You mean a Coke-Coke or like a Dr Pepper or something-Coke?” Thank you, Dex. That little bit of regional knowledge had upped his bartender game with some out-of-towners. 

Jesus, that smile just got warmer. “Y’all have Dr Pepper? Because I’d love that.” 

That felt good, it made up for ruining the guy’s night a little. “We do. Sit tight.” They kept it in cans because it wasn’t hugely popular, but Dex drank it like it was going out of style so there was always some cold in the fridge. 

He grabbed a can, having a look around the bar to see if Peter needed help. It must be late because it had cleared out some and there were a number of empty seats at the bar. Peter was actually doing some restocking. 

“One Dr Pepper.” He opened it for Matthew and poured it over a few ice cubes in a tall glass. He seemed to have relaxed enough not to spill this too. 

“You rock. Thank you. I need to be able to find my hotel room again, so I have to pace myself some.” 

“Oh, we’re experts around here at getting people rides back to their hotels. No worries.” He winked at Matthew. “So what brings you here? Not here, like the bar…men don’t usually wander into the bar for no reason…but here. To the city.” 

Well, that was articulate. Jesus, maybe he needed a drink. He glanced at the clock. Nope, not close enough to closing yet. 

“You got to promise not to laugh.” 

Oh, that was intriguing. 

“I’ll guess. You do a drag show in Daisy Dukes.” Tyler grinned and leaned on the bar. “No?” 

“I am not the drag type, unfortunately. It stains the beard. I have been made up, but it’s not why I’m here.” Matthew chuckled softly, and he thought that was a blush. “I am a big reader, believe it or not, and I came to BookExpo America. It’s what I do for vacation every year. I get enough books for me, my girls, and the little library van that goes from ranch to ranch.” 

Oh, wow. That was so…sweet. And kind. And it was so wholesome it hurt. “Books. I was definitely not expecting that.” He wasn’t expecting the blush either. He smiled back. “Not exactly the rough and tumble cowboy image.” 

“No, I know, right? Still, it is what it is, and I shipped my first two boxes this afternoon.” Matthew sipped his drink, licked his mustache. “So, are you a reader?” 

“Well, I read. I don’t know what makes a reader.” 

“I guess if you like it? I mean, I know lots of folks that never read a book.” Matthew chuckled softly, the look suddenly wicked. “I’m not sure my brother knows how to read.” 

Tyler laughed. “I like to read. I’m slow. I tend to read in chunks, but I read. I like those detective books about serial killers, and mysteries. And I like books about people and how they…get through things. Like rowers at the World War Two Olympics. Stuff like that.” 

“I get that. I love thrillers, histories, spy novels, westerns—hell, I like a good racy romance, too. I live on three thousand acres, so I read at night a lot, while the TV is on.” He got a wink. “My daddy tried to convince me to whittle instead, but I never could make anything fancier than a square.” 

“Three thousand acres? I don’t even have three thousand feet.” He laughed. “I’m not sure I have three hundred. Wow.” 

“Yeah, I have a decent-sized ranch—I raise Beefmasters and Herefords, along with cutting horses. We got goats and chickens too, but they’re not money-makers.” 

“We…?” Tyler was a bartender; he paid attention. Matthew wasn’t wearing a ring. “Oh, you said you had girls, right?” 

“I do. I have two—eight and ten. My wife died six years ago.” Matthew didn’t look away from him, at all. “And yeah. I know this is a gay bar. I swing both ways.” 

He nodded, returning the look. “I’m sorry about your wife. Technically I swing too, but my pendulum’s been stuck on one side for the last few years.” Six years ago. Damn. Those girls had been little. 

“I understand that. I dated Deb in high school, a glorious young man in college, and then when I went home to work the ranch, Deb was there.” Matthew chuckled softly. “And before the end of the summer, she’d caught pregnant, so…” 

“Women have a way of doing that if you’re not careful.” He nodded sagely. He wasn’t going to ask what happened to her, he’d learned the hard way how difficult that question could be to answer. “If you’re looking for company, most people have good luck on our dance floor.” 

“I found someone friendly to chat with, honey. That’s way more important than a hookup.” 

“A friendly klutz.” He smiled though; something about Matthew soothed him deep down and let him hang out in the moment for the first time in a while. “That’s supposed to be working.” Though Peter wasn’t busy and hadn’t even given him a look yet. 

“I can wait if you have to wander. I don’t mind.” 

“Thanks. I’ll have to at some point, but it’s slow right now.” He did take the time to start cleaning up, staying where he could still talk. “Tell me about your girls. Who’s with them while you’re here?” 

“They’re at my folks’. They have a place down the road and a new in-ground swimming pool. My girls were so ready for a week in the water. I’m going to have to consider getting one too, now that they’re old enough to not worry so much.” 

“That’s a chunk of change from what I’ve heard.” 

Matthew nodded. “I know a few guys who I can trade straws for it. My bulls go for fifteen a straw.” 

A straw? Dex did this occasionally too, said something that only someone who had reason to know would know. “I have no idea what a straw is. I’m sorry.” 

“It’s a glass straw of bull semen. That’s where my money is.” 

He blinked at Matthew again, who at this point must think he didn’t have a brain cell in his head. But that was the second time tonight that Matthew had said something he was not expecting. “I…had no idea.” He chuckled, grinning, embarrassed. 

“That you got bulls’ spunk in glass straws or that you could sell it?” There didn’t seem to be any evil in Matthew, just this easiness, this warmth. 

“Well, I guess I’m trying to imagine how you get semen into a straw…and I have a really bad imagination.” He bit his lip to keep from laughing, but it only kind of worked. 

“Believe it or not, I have artificial vaginas and a set of cowboys whose entire jobs are to get the bull’s cock into the AV. That flows into a vial and then it’s tested and frozen in glass straws.” Did Matthew just say all that with a straight face? 

“I am not drunk enough for this conversation.” Not even close. He tried to picture that whole operation in his head. “Artificial vaginas. I’ve heard some stories but that’s…wow.” He looked at Matthew seriously. “I mean, I’m not making fun I just…said like that it sounds so absurd.” And it was hard to believe that made Matthew swimming pool type money. 

“Right? I grew up doing it—not at the level I am now. I lucked out, bred a couple of amazing buckers and three or four big show bulls, but it’s a going operation. Hell, I just had to fire this one son of a bitch for trying to steal bull spunk. No shit.” 

“That’s cool. Totally out of my range of experience, but very cool.” 

“Yes, well, I am on my sixth year of coming up, and I only learned how to use the subway last year.” 

Tyler laughed. “Oh, the subway is probably way scarier than a bull.” 

“Absolutely. You got to remember, my closest town has ninety folks in it.” 

“God, that sounds nice. Quiet. It’s…not quiet here.” Tyler was tired. He didn’t sleep much, but that had nothing to do with the noise. 

“No. No, it’s not. It’s neat, but quiet? No.” Matthew sounded like he knew, like he understood somehow, but how could he? “Are you from here?” 

He nodded. “Yeah. I was born here. Went to city schools. I was taking the subway to school with my friends by third grade. I had a lot more than ninety people around me.” 

“That’s fascinating. Do you like it?” No one looked at him like that, like he was fascinating. 

Did he like it? It was home, it was all he knew. He’d never thought about whether he liked it. “I guess?” There was nothing fascinating about trying to make a living in New York. 

“I swore when I headed to Austin for my degree that I was moving away, but that didn’t happen. By the time I graduated, I was building the house on the weekends and aching to get home.” 

Tourists thought it had to be cool to live in the city. “I really don’t know where else I’d go. I don’t have any reason to move. I’ve never really been anywhere.” Not anywhere he’d live. He used to do a winter vacation somewhere warm with friends before—he hadn’t gone this past winter. 

“I get that. I mean, I like to go. I run down to the beach a couple times a year, out to Angel Fire to ski, here, but I’m always ready to go home.” 

He shrugged, uncomfortable with the conversation, and took a beer order from a couple of newcomers. “I guess I’d have to get away for a while to figure out if I’d miss it. Excuse me a second?” 

He made his way down the bar to pull the two beers and put in an order for nachos. 

Matthew nursed his Dr Pepper, eyes on his phone, the light casting amazing shadows on the strong features. 

“Flirting with the cowboy?” Peter got him with an elbow. 

“No. He’s freaking me out a little actually, the way he looks at me…like he knows me. Nice guy though. Kind, friendly.” 

Peter nodded. “Ah. But you’re not interested.” 

“Shut up.” Did it matter? The guy was from Texas. 

“Okay. Okay, sure. You want me to wait on him? I will, tell him you’re busy.” 

“No. No, did I say that? I got it.” He picked up the beers. “Yell if you need help.” 

He could almost hear Peter shaking his head behind him. 

Tyler handed off the beers and took a card for a tab from the new guys, then stepped back over to Matthew. “You need a refill?” 

“Please, thank you.” Matthew met his eyes, smiled, but he thought the look was a little sad. “I didn’t mean to disturb you. My apologies.” 

He held Matthew’s eyes for a second. That wasn’t fair; the cowboy wasn’t being anything but nice. “It’s not…it’s just been a while since I had a real conversation with anyone. So…maybe I needed a little disturbing. I like talking to you, you’ve been—You’re very warm. And I’m kind of in a cold place.” 

Jesus. Maybe he needed that therapist Les offered him after all. 

“Well, I’m enjoying chatting with you. I like to talk—I’m sure you’ve noticed, so if you want to conversate, I’m willing.” 

Conversate. 

“I’m in. Let me get you that refill. Oh…on the Cuervo, the Dr Pepper, or both?” 

“Just the Dr Pepper. I don’t need to be liquored up to chat with you.” 

Damn, if he did want to flirt, this would be the guy to do it with. Matthew was saying all the right things. 

Oh. Oh shit, was Matthew flirting? Saying all the right things was flirting, right? Oh. Shit. 

He grabbed another can of Dr Pepper and a new glass of ice and poured out the can into the glass. “How long are you in town? Is the convention all weekend?” He’d never heard of Book-thing. World? Expo? Something. 

“I am. I’m here until Tuesday. The Expo is over Saturday, but I like a day to explore and a day to just chill out.” 

“Nice. What have you planned to see?” Because he was an excellent tour guide. Not that he had any time off. Well, he was technically off Monday, but he usually came in to help with inventory. 

“I haven’t! Like I said, up until last year? I just stayed close, took the Expo transportation. Then I decided to be brave. I picked a hotel that looked amazing and fun. There was an advertisement in the lobby for this place.” Matthew’s eyes lit up. “So I’ve got the Expo tomorrow to get some books, then I’m golden. Would it be creepy if I came back in to talk to you again? Maybe invite you to a meal?” 

“Creepy? No. Everybody’s gotta eat, right?” He smiled despite shocking himself by so easily agreeing to a…to a what? A meal? A date? Brunch or something. “That sounds great.” 

“Excellent. You let me know when is good for you, and I’ll be there with bells on.” 

“Well, I’m on shift here at four tomorrow and Sunday, and I’m off on Monday.” 

Whoa. 

He just handed out his schedule. 

How long had it been? He barely remembered the part of him that was interested in anything at all much less…whatever this was. He felt like he should be more freaked out than he was. 

“How about noon tomorrow? We could have a lazy lunch before you work?” 

He nodded before he could chicken out. “Sure. Just tell me…oh, or maybe I should tell you where.” Tyler laughed. 

“I’ll meet you wherever. Let me give you my number, and you can text me.” Matthew chuckled softly, the sound sliding over his nerves and soothing them. “And we can both try to figure out whether we’re brave or a little crazy.” 

“It’s lunch.” They didn’t have to be brave or crazy to have lunch. He put Matthew’s digits into his phone, and then texted the number so Matthew had his. It was just lunch. 

“It is. No stress, no strings.” Matthew took a long swig of his drink. “I appreciate you letting me visit with you, man. I spend all day talking to someone—kids, cowboys, family. I was beginning to worry that people were going to think I was a nutjob, muttering to myself.” 

“Oh, no. That’s totally common here. I bet you wouldn’t even get a second look. Someone might hand you a sandwich though.” Tyler laughed. That sounded like Matthew was heading out. He reached for the card Matthew had given him, handed it back, and tore up the bill. “I’m really sorry about your hand.” 

“Oh, wow. Are you sure, honey? I’ll pay for my drinks.” Matthew stood, and it happened again. It was like Matthew filled the space. 

This time, though, he managed a breath and stuck his hand out first. “The least I can do is buy your drinks. It was nice to meet you.” 

Matthew took his hand, and he swore electricity shot up his arm. “It was my pleasure. You let me know where to meet you tomorrow, okay?” 

“I…yeah.” He smiled, bewildered. “Yes. I’ll text you. Take care of that hand.” 

“I will.” Matthew stroked his wrist before letting him go to put two twenties in the tip jar. “Y’all have a good one.” 

Tyler watched Matthew go, eyes following until the door closed behind him. Then he looked down and ran his fingers over that spot on his wrist. He didn’t know what he was doing, and he didn’t know why either. But something in him that had been sleeping seemed to be waking up. 

There was just something strange and wondrous about that cowboy.

Title: Tending Tyler
Published by: Tygerseye Publishing, LLC
ASIN: B093TSQV9D
ISBN13: 978-1-951011-46-8

Honeymoon in the Cards

January 6, 2024 by
Contributors: Jodi Payne, BA Tortuga
Series: Sapphic #2
Genre: , , , , , ,
Release Date: December 19, 2023

A Summit Springs shared-world Novel.

Honeymoon in the Cards is an FF (lesbian) romance featuring opposites attract and second chance romance between a Texas-born tarot card reader and a New York City ad executive, set in the fictional small town of Summit Springs, CO.

When Marissa wins a holiday honeymoon package at a ski resort in small town Colorado, she knows she has to call them and back out of the trip. She's not getting married, after all, since her girlfriend turned down her proposal.

When the ski resort's marketing manager convinces her to come anyway to save his job, though, she can't turn down a well-deserved vacation, even if it means pretending to be engaged for the photo opportunities. What she really doesn't expect is for the other party of the fake engagement to be someone she used to know.

Rebekka shows up in Summit Springs to help her brother out, so it comes as a shock when she has to pretend to be engaged to her old college girlfriend, Marissa. They couldn't be more opposite. Mari is by the book, high dollar, and kind of high maintenance. Bekka is a tarot reading earth goddess type who's a little scatterbrained. Can the two of them learn that they've both matured and changed into people who can really care for each other, or will their relationship end when the fake honeymoon is over?

Buy the Book: Amazon~~Barnes & Noble~~iBooks~~Publisher~~Kobo~~Smashwords~~Universal eBook Links

Also in this series:

Chapter 1 

Marissa listened to the phone ring, still not sure exactly what she was going to say when someone answered. It wasn’t every day one had to cancel a honeymoon, especially not a free one. 

She supposed that the lesson here was not to put the cart before the horse. After three years though, she’d thought it was reasonable to propose. She’d picked out a ring, made dinner reservations, she’d even hired a limo to take them to a hotel after Josie said yes. 

But Josie didn’t say yes. 

How long was this phone going to ring? Shouldn’t she have gone through to voicemail or something by now? 

Finally, a chirpy voice answered. “Pines Peak Resort, how can I direct your call?” 

“Oh. Well, I won a honeymoon package and I need to talk to—” She looked at the business card stapled to the folder full of brochures and information. “To Bryan Harker about it.” 

“Oh, of course. I’ll get him for you. Just a sec!” 

God, was anyone really that happy? 

She wasn’t. 

Even the hold music was cheerful. How annoying was that? 

She was just about ready to drop her cell phone down the garbage disposal when someone finally answered. 

“Marketing.” 

“Bryan Harker, please?” 

“Yep. Hang on.” 

Oh god. She was being put on hold again. 

She was going to bite something. Hard. Hopefully hard enough that her cheating bitch of an ex felt it. 

“This is Bryan. Can I help you?” 

“Yes. Hi, Bryan. This is Marissa Martin. I won a honeymoon package at your resort. We are supposed to come next weekend.” 

“Hello, Ms. Martin. Or I supposed it’s Mrs. Martin by now? Congratulations. We’re looking forward to rolling out the red carpet for you and your wife.” 

Fuck. She was going to throw up. Her cheeks heated and the knot in her stomach started doing somersaults. She needed to get off the phone. “I’m uh—unfortunately I—we—” She forced herself to take a breath. 

Suck it up and get it over with Mari. 

“We didn’t get married. We’re not coming. It’s off. Everything is off.” 

“I—What?” That was utter shock. Just complete blankness, and if it didn’t suck so hard, it would be funny as hell. 

“Yeah. Sorry. Thanks for everything. Just send me a bill for…whatever you need to. It’s fine. It’s all fine.” She sounded like an idiot, which, obviously, she was. 

“Oh. Well, I’m sorry about all of that but…you have to come.” 

What? “Excuse me?” 

“I mean…don’t you still need a vacation? We’d love to have you. There might be a few…logistical matters, but I’m sure we can work something out.” 

Had this guy lost his mind? 

“You heard me, right? I’m not taking a vacation with the bitch who didn’t marry me. Excuse my French.” Did she need to spell out how Josie had just flatly explained that she was in love with someone else? Mari wasn’t going away with that bitch. She didn’t intend on seeing her ever again. She was already packing her shit to go…somewhere. She’d figure that out tomorrow. 

“I—Okay. Okay, but… Shit. My job is on the line here. Surely there’s something we can do.” 

Do? What the hell were they supposed to do? 

“Well you can’t make her not have cheated on me, right? I’m sorry, but I’m not coming.” 

“I…wait. I know. I’ve got it.” Bryan paused, and she was about to say no again when he started taking a hundred miles an hour. “Yes. Come anyway. Just you, okay? Come have a wonderful resort vacation on us like you planned. You can ski, you can relax in the hot tub, all your meals are paid for. Free wine. Spa treatments. All I ask is that you let me take a few pictures like we’d talked about when you won the trip. Some promotional photos, that kind of thing. That’s all. You can do that, right? Just some PR?” 

She wanted to say no, but he kind of had her at free wine. She needed to get out of New York, clear her head, figure out what her next move should be. Why not do it at a fucking spa resort and get pampered while she was at it? She could handle a few pictures. No problem. 

She took a deep breath. “This will keep you from losing your job?” It made no sense, but whatever. 

“Yes. Yes, please say yes.” He couldn’t fake that sort of desperation. 

“Okay. Yes. I’ll come.” 

“Next weekend, as planned?” 

“Next weekend. Friday. Like the paperwork says.” 

“Perfect. You rock. I’ll have a car pick you up at the airport. You’ve saved me. Thank you.” 

And then there was a click. 

She stared at her phone where it sat on her desk, completely baffled by that entire conversation. She didn’t understand. But then, she didn’t understand a lot of things. Like how you sleep with someone for three years while you’re in love with someone else. 

Well, fuck Josie. She was going to soak in a hot tub, drink free wine, get a facial and take some hot woman back to her hotel room. A different one every night. That would show that cheating bitch. 

Sure, she should have maybe planned things a little better. Like, maybe proposed earlier. But she’d assumed…well she’d assumed wrong. But she hadn’t expected to win the damn “Honeymoon in Heaven” contest anyway. 

Lesson learned. No more honeymoons. 

She’d take a few days in heaven though. She could use them. She pulled out her phone to let her bestie know. <I called and talked to the Summit Springs people and decided to go alone. Don’t make it weird. I need some time by myself.> 

Ginny answered back in less than a second. <WHAT OMG IM CALLING!> 

Then the Macarena started playing. 

“Hey, Macarena!” She smiled at the FaceTime call. “I said don’t make it weird.” 

“I’m not. Are you okay? Are you going to do something stupid? Can I come?” 

“I’m mad and heartbroken and completely fine. What are you wearing? Are you going out? Do you have a date?” She wasn’t fine, but she wasn’t in the mood to deal either. 

“I am. She’s a stud—a chef. I’m wearing something warm but cute. Low cut, but with a scarf.” 

Ginny was hot and only kind of knew it. What she thought was cute, most people would drool over. “You look amazing. I love your hair. Go make yourself her favorite dish.” 

“I intend to. I need that Christmas Eve girlfriend, girlfriend.” She gasped. “Oh, god. That was tacky.” 

“So tacky.” But she giggled her head off. She missed Ginny. They hadn’t lived in the same place at the same time since college, but they’d always kept in touch. “Girlfriend.” 

“I love you, honey. Call any time except for after nine tonight. I hope to be busy.” 

“Nighty, you. Who needs sleep? Love you.” She gave Ginny a wave and they both hung up. 

Seriously, who needed sleep? She hadn’t slept well in a week. A nice soak in a hot tub should help, right? She went to pour herself a glass of wine and think about what to pack.

Title: Honeymoon in the Cards
Published by: Tygerseye Publishing, LLC
ASIN: B0CPJWP3YK
ISBN13: 978-1-951011-96-3

The Trouble with Cowboys

January 6, 2024 by
Contributors: Jodi Payne, BA Tortuga
Series: The Sin Deep Series #2
Genre: , , , , ,
Release Date: February 6, 2024

When Kacey Lowe shows up at his friend Sam’s place in New York, it’s because he has nowhere else to go. He’s lost his shot as a bullrider, and he’s beat up as anything to boot. He doesn’t want to impose on Sam, and he and his buddy tend to get into trouble together anyway. That’s how he ends up at River’s place.

River McIntyre doesn’t really understand Kacey, but he wants to help the tough little cowboy with whatever demons he’s wrestling. He’s not sure he can, and he’s not sure Kacey can be everything he needs, but he sees past Kacey’s pain and insecurities, and knows they could have something special together if they can just figure it out.

The trouble with cowboys, River finds out, is that they might be speaking a different language than a city man like him. But if they can meet in the middle somewhere, it will be worth all the effort.

The Trouble with Cowboys is set in The Cowboy and the Dom universe and features a hurt-comfort, opposites attract, D/s romance in New York City.

Buy the Book: Amazon~~Universal eBook Links

Also in this series:

 

Chapter 1 

 

“Come on, man. Answer your fucking phone.” 

Kacey Lowe tried hard to know certain shit—one, where his boots were, two, where his phone was, and three, where he was going to be able to sleep in a world that had little to no use for a broke-dick bullrider. He had two out of three. 

Now Kacey needed a couch to surf. 

Sam O’Reilly would let him stay, have a little fun, and not ask too many questions about the bruises, why he was in New York, and what the hell he was going to do next. 

“’lo?” O’Reilly sounded drunk. “Who’s this?” 

“Kacey. How you been?” He could handle drunk. 

“Fine as frog hair. Where the hell are you?” 

“Um… Times Square, I think. I’m pretty sure.” The place was so lit up it felt like daytime. 

“Like in the city?” 

“Well, I am totally in a city. The New York one.” The last ride was a flower delivery dude. He’d been cool, and they’d shared a spliff. 

“What? When? Why? How?” 

That was a lot of questions in a row. Sam hadn’t changed a bit. “In New York. Now. Because of life and things, and really fucking slow?” 

“Wait. Hang on.” The music in the background faded away, and Sam got back on the line with more questions. “Okay. Did you get hurt? How did you get here? Where are you staying?” 

He couldn’t answer the first two questions without opening a can of worms. “I was sorta hoping you’d have a couch I could use for a day or two while I’m visiting.” 

Or until he got his bell unrung. 

Sam O’Reilly had been his mentor on the arena floor when he was a junior, and the man had been fun to hang with the few times they’d been together on the circuit. 

“Yeah, of course. Not many of us with couches up here, huh?” He heard street noises as Sam put him on speaker. “I’m texting you the address. We’re not home… uh… I’ll just see if I can convince Mister—Thomas—to make it an early night.” 

“Is it a bad time? I can wait ’til tomorrow, dude.” He could walk around for hours, no problem. He had enough cash to eat for damn near a year, if he was careful, and he would do near anything to win a bet, so… 

“Right. Just stay on the street tonight, and I’ll see you after breakfast.” Sam snorted. “Get your ass over there. Tell the doorman you’re a friend of mine, and he’ll let you wait in the lobby. We’ll be there in a little bit.” 

“You sure, man? I know this is a surprise.” 

“Shut up. See you in an hour, give or take.” 

Oh, thank God. Kacey sucked in a deep breath. “Thanks, man. Just a day or two.” 

“Yeah, while you’re in town.” 

Okay. He had himself a place to stay. If he remembered right, Sam liked a bar so he might get to have some fun too, while he figured out what to do next. He looked at the text—he could walk forty blocks in an hour, right? 

If not, he’d text and say he was running late. He was good at that. 

He set his GPS and started beating feet. 

Lord have mercy this place was wild. Maybe a guy could have some fun here… 

He found the address and slowed down as he moved up the block. The building was big. And tall. Really fucking tall. There was a big white awning held up by gold posts and a dude in a jacket and hat hanging out near the front door and watching him as he got closer. 

“Move on,” the guy said in a deep voice as he slowed down even more. 

“I got me an invitation from a friend.” He wasn’t going nowhere. “Sam O’Reilly. You know him?” 

“Mhm.” The guy nodded. “You’re friends?” 

He arched one eyebrow, trying hard not to be a bitch. “Yessir. We rode together in Texas, couple times in Vegas.” 

“Understood. What’s your name?” 

“Kacey Lowe.” 

“Thank you, Mr. Lowe. Mr. O’Reilly isn’t at home. You can wait inside if it’s cold out here for you.” 

“That would rock. Thank you. It’s damn chilly.” He held out one hand to shake, but the dude stopped before grabbing his fingers. 

Oh. Right. 

They were a little tore up from the last fight, and that one finger was…wonky. 

“You’re definitely a friend of Sam’s.” They clasped hands gently, the door guy shaking his head. 

“Yessir. Since I was a teenager, you know? He’s wild as anything.” And a great drinking buddy. “I’m looking forward to hanging with him.” 

“Mm. Wild.” The guy waved an arm and the doors slid open. “There’s a pot of coffee behind the desk.” 

“Thank you, sir. I do appreciate it.” He headed in and grabbed a cup of coffee, heavy on the sugar and creamer. 

Calories were good. They kept a man warm. 

He hadn’t gotten one sip down before Sam came through the door, followed by a tall, handsome, very… hot…uh. Had he mentioned tall? 

“Kacey.” Sam came right to him with a smile. “I can’t believe you’re here.” 

“Sam.” Damn, Sam looked so good. Healthy. Strong. Almost like a grown-up. Weird. “I missed your skanky ass, man.” 

“Hey now, I’ve cleaned it up a little since you saw me last.” Sam gave him a hug, and he was proud of himself for not wincing. “You look good.” 

“You appear to have been in a fight,” Mr. Handsome said. Was that a growl? 

Sam chuckled and rolled his eyes. “Kacey, this is Thomas.” 

“Pleased to meet you.” He held out his hand. Again. “And I swear, I haven’t been in a fight.” 

He’d been in a few dozen. 

Thomas took his hand, but not to shake it. He looked at it critically, turned it palm-side up and back again, then sighed. “You need to get some ice on that. I think I might have a splint for the finger. Come on upstairs.” 

“Dude, seriously? What the hell happened?” Sam grinned at him. “Tell me it was fun, at least?” 

“I wish I could, cowboy.” 

Thomas led them to the elevator, and when the big, shiny doors opened, they all got on. Thomas was… not really staring but looking him over. It was weird, but it wasn’t creepy. 

Sam nodded to him and rested a hand on his arm. “I’ll make us coffee.” 

Oh god, don’t leave me with him. “I’ll help.” 

“It’s no pr—” 

“I’ll so help.” Helping, helping, la la la. 

“Let him help.” Why did it feel like Thomas could see right into his soul? God, that was unnerving. 

“So… this is your… roommate?” He didn’t read like a roommate. More like a grumpy fuckbuddy. Possibly a sugar daddy. 

Dude. 

Dude. 

Did Sam have a sugar daddy? He had a decent belly, but he was a little un-twinkly and sparkly. In Vegas, boys like that had glitter. 

Thomas laughed as they stepped off the elevator but didn’t answer the question. “I thought you said he was a good friend, Sam?” 

“He is. He’s a rodeo buddy. He was a junior rider that I mentored.” Sam sighed and shook his head. “Thomas here, he’s my lover. My guy. My… person, huh? If you’re not cool with that…” 

“Dude. I know you’re into dick. I just didn’t know you were into…” Big growly dudes with biker boots and a fancy apartment. “Permanent guys.” 

“Yes, he’s permanently into my dick.” Thomas was still chuckling as he opened the apartment door. 

“Kinky,” he whispered. 

Sam started chuckling, the sound started soft and built. 

And built. 

And built. 

Thomas leaned close to Sam and kissed his forehead. “I’m not touching that.” 

Sam led him toward an open kitchen, and Thomas went the other way down a long hall. 

“Lord, he’s a biggun. Pretty, though.” That seemed the most polite. 

“He’s amazing. I’ve never been happier.” Sam started making coffee. “What the fuck happened to you? And don’t say nothing, because I’m neither blind nor stupid.” 

“Did you just say ‘nor’?” 

“Neither… nor…” Sam shot him a look. “I asked you a question.” 

“It’s a long story, but the short version is, got dumped, got outed, lost my sponsors, got reminded that I ain’t supposed to be in Texas.” Hell of a short version. 

Sam puffed out a breath and went back to making coffee. “I’ve heard that story before. I’m sorry. Are you okay?” 

“Yeah. Just been traveling. Seeing stuff. Wandering. I looked you up—sorry about your brother, by the way.” 

Sam nodded, took a deep breath. “Thanks. It was tough, but we caught the son of a bitch.” 

“That’s good. I hope he got what he deserved.” 

“Neosporin, band-aids, ice pack, Tylenol, and one finger splint.” Thomas appeared and set everything down on the counter one by one, then held out a hand palm-up. “Will you let me see?” 

Oh, how decent was that? Pretty damned, if you asked him. He held up one of his hands. They hurt pretty good, and that one finger needed something to encourage it not to fall off. 

He wasn’t a damn roper, after all. 

“Hm. I’ll be careful.” For the next few minutes, Thomas gently cleaned his hands up with damp cotton balls and covered the one bad cut with the cream and a band-aid. Thomas’s hands were warm, and those fingers moved over his skin like… like he cared. 

And the man never growled once. 

Okay, weird. Again. “Thanks. Seriously. I’ll slam the finger in the splint, if it grosses you out.” 

It grossed him out some, but it was easier to just do it, right? 

“Pfft.” Thomas shook his head. “I have a brother who has broken this finger three times, and several others more than once. Fists and walls don’t mix well.” There was a blinding light, and he was dizzy for a few seconds, and when he could see again, Thomas was wrapping tape around the splint to keep it in place. 

“Whiskey?” Sam asked, and he groaned. 

“Fuck me yes.” All the whiskey. 

“Rock on.” 

“You didn’t faint, and you didn’t lose your balance. You’re like my Sam.” He wasn’t sure how to read Thomas’s smile, but the man rested his hand on the counter and gave it a gentle pat. It was weirdly… what? Parental? Something. “All good.” 

“Thanks, man. I appreciate this. I’ll be on my way in a day or two. I just wanted to get a face-to-face with Sam-I-Am.” 

Sam rolled his eyes, shook his head. “I swear to God, Kacey. You carry trouble like a landed bass.” 

“I sure do try, yessir.” 

Thomas took Sam by the chin and kissed him. “I’ll leave you two to talk, sweetheart. Good night.” 

“See you in a bit, Mister.” Sam poured two coffees, calm as all get out. “Are the hands the worst of it?” 

“Nah.” No, the worst of it was in his soul, and what could he do about that now? He’d thought Mitch and him, they’d had something workable. Something nice, even, but when they’d been caught, Mitch had said he wasn’t willing. He’d never forced no one to do anything. Not ever. 

But that didn’t matter, and that wasn’t something he was ever gonna talk about. That secret belonged to him. 

Sam gave him a knowing smile, which didn’t hurt so bad, coming from him. “I didn’t reckon. The core shots are the ones that are the worst. Come on. Let’s sit and bullshit a minute.” 

Core shots. He hated that Sam seemed to know something he didn’t want to tell. 

“That I can do. I’m full of bullshit.” His laugh didn’t make that funny like it should have. 

“We all are. Sometimes, we find the thing that we need to empty us out.” 

That was damn near deep, and he didn’t believe it for a second. “Whatcha doing with yourself these days, buddy?” 

Sam shrugged, cheeks pinking. “Believe it or not, I got my damn PhD. I teach. I write books…” 

“Cool, man. That’s… wild.” Kacey felt himself shrink inside. Sam O’Reilly had retired, become a professor, wrote books. He wasn’t broke dick, but he had a couple thousand bucks, his boots, his phone, and a single silver buckle. Fuck, he needed to find another place to go. 

“Totally is. How’d you end up here?” 

Kacey curated what he wanted to tell Sam, and he finally settled on, “I was in Columbus, and the guys were heading west, so I came over. I was on a bus, googling, and happened on your name. Thought if I came here, I’d look your happy ass up.” 

Sam took a slow sip of his coffee, then looked at him. “Why not go home?” When he didn’t answer, Sam added, “Rough weather?” 

“Yeah. My folks—” He waved one hand, because he didn’t know what say. He watched the coffee wave in his cup, back and forth, and finally words just fell out of his lips. “I fucked up, Sam. Bad. There ain’t no coming home from that.” 

Sam set his cup down. “Shit, Kace. Are you in trouble? We know people…” 

He shook his head, even as he desperately wanted to nod. “No. No, I ain’t here to fuck your life. I just need a day or two to rest, yeah? Then I’ll go traveling again.” 

“I’m telling you we can help. You rest, get your head right, but you think about it.” 

“Thanks for answering your phone.” He needed a friend, a minute to breathe. 

“Thanks for trusting me, man. Drink your coffee and breathe. You’re safe here.” Sam winked at him. “Thomas is way more badass than he looks.” 

“Is he a teacher too?” Kacey was betting on librarian more than teacher. 

“No, no. He’s the head curator for the Metropolitan Museum.” Sam sounded proud. 

“Damn.” Sam had just left his whole world behind like dust. “Good on y’all.” 

He didn’t even know what the hell he was going to do to make money. He needed to google canned rodeos. 

Mechanical bull competitions. 

Daredevil shows. 

“You’ll figure it out. I was lost when I got here, and I couldn’t go back home. This is home now.” 

“I’m tickled shitless for you. You got work tomorrow?” You want to go find some trouble with an old friend? 

“I’m not teaching. I can skip a day of writing to hang, sure.” Sam tilted his head, lips twitching. “After all, it is Friday…” 

“Yeah? No shit? Surely we can find ourselves something to do.”

Title: The Trouble with Cowboys
Published by: Tygerseye Publishing, LLC
ASIN: B0CSW7DS8F

Making a Mark, Triskelion Book #2

September 25, 2021 by
Contributors: Jodi Payne, BA Tortuga
Series: Triskelion Series #2
Genre: , , , ,
Release Date: October 5, 2021
Pages: 332

When Troy and Saul became lovers, they worried about a lot of things. There was their age gap, their younger Dom-older sub relationship, and Troy’s health, which was made worse by job stress. They managed all that and more with a deep commitment, and with a lot of help from Troy’s longtime best friends, fellow Dom and sub couple Carter and Geoff.

In fact, Saul seems to be what all three of the other men need to see what’s been there all along, and to provide the balance they need to deepen their relationship in a very meaningful way. They’ve already made their marks on each other’s hearts. Now it’s time to start living the life they’ve all been dreaming of.

Nothing is ever perfect or easy, though, and they all have to shift their perceptions. Geoff has to come to terms with his need for submission and desire to dominate Troy, and Carter must redefine the two most important relationships in his life. Troy struggles to understand why Geoff and Carter want this with him now, after years of watching from the outside. And Saul has to create a whole new definition of family. Can they all break the rules again and become something more special than they can even imagine?

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Chapter One 

 

“You want something to eat, or do you want to go straight home and sit in the hot tub, baby?” Carter Lee didn’t care, to be honest. He just wanted to get his ass somewhere and process what the fuck had just happened. 

More than that, he wanted to see what his husband had to say. 

Twenty-five years he and Geoff had been together, Dom and sub from minute one, and while they had experimented together more than once, they’d never acknowledged that Geoff was a switch. 

“I’m not hungry. Take me home?” Geoff leaned into him and massaged one palm thoughtfully, bangs still damp from his long tattoo session with Troy. 

“You got it.” Home wasn’t too far up the mountain, but it wasn’t the first time he wondered if they shouldn’t have bought down in Boulder like their best friend Troy. They’d chosen to renovate an old house they found away from their businesses so that they could leave Geoff’s tattoo parlor and his diner behind when they weren’t working. 

“Mmm. Good to me.” Geoff kissed his neck. “I’ll lock up.” 

The ride home was nearly silent. He assumed Geoff was processing the session as much as he was. That was fine; they’d climb into their hot tub and talk there. But instead of heading straight out to the deck when they got home, Geoff headed for the kitchen. 

“Smoothie? I’m thinking peach. Want one?” 

“Sure. I’ll start the water bubbling. I’ll meet you out there.” It wasn’t a request. They needed to chat, process, decompress. 

“Yes, sir.” 

Geoff accepted the order as it was intended, and a few minutes later, he appeared with two smoothies, garnished with lime and raspberries and fat, colorful straws. 

“Look at that. They look amazing.” Carter had to grin. Geoff made him happy—always had, always would. “You sure you don’t want to open a smoothie bar, babe? Yours are the best.” 

“These are only for you, love.” Geoff winked and set the smoothies down, grabbed a couple of towels out of an outdoor storage bin, stripped quickly and then stepped into the tub to get out of the cold air. 

Carter made sure their robes were in the outdoor warmer and turned the lights down before he climbed into the water. Oh, this was the best thing they’d invested in for forever. 

When they were settled, with hardly a hair between them, Geoff handed him a smoothie. “Cheers.” 

“Cheers.” He took a sip, the peach bright and sweet. He waited for Geoff to finish his sip and then he grabbed his boy, dragging him close for a kiss. 

“Mmm.” Geoff set his drink down hard on the edge of the tub and opened to his kiss with a sweet moan, molding into him, hands fluttering against his shoulders. 

Carter managed to put his smoothie down so he could grab his boy and take what he needed. Watching Geoff ink Troy had been hot, and making out with Troy’s Master? That had revved him up. 

Geoff managed a loud, surprised sound against his lips, and practiced fingers dove into the warm water, wrapping around his stiff prick. 

Hell yes. He wrapped his hand in Geoff’s hair, keeping his boy where he wanted him so he could plunder the sweet mouth. 

His boy’s hand sped, nothing subtle about the way Geoff worked to get him off, thumb sweeping heavily on every upward stroke. 

“Fuck.” Carter grunted, his fingers curling into fists. “More.” 

Show me what you have, boy. 

“I watched you kissing Saul, Master,” Geoff whispered in his ear, pressure and friction relentless. “You were beautiful together.” 

“It was time.” And soon it would be Geoff’s turn to kiss Troy. It had been on Geoff’s mind for years. 

“And this? Is it time now?” Geoff’s thumb burrowed through his slit. “Will you stand up, Master? So I can taste you? Please?” 

“Fuck, boy, you beg so pretty.” Carter took another kiss, intending to make Geoff wild and hungry before he pulled himself up out of the water, the cold air slapping his wet skin. 

Geoff clearly didn’t intend to leave him in the cold long; the boy knelt in the water, that hungry mouth taking him in, heat and suction just right. His boy’s fingers dug into his ass, keeping him close and making it hard to move. He put one hand on Geoff’s head—not holding on but keeping them connected. The hot water licked at his thighs, the steam filling the air and making it look otherworldly. 

He knew he was everything in Geoff’s world right now. The boy’s focus was completely on him, his need. Whatever he wanted. Geoff could get completely lost if he allowed it, and right now, as his nipples grew hard in the cold air and everything below the belt was on fire, it was tempting. But Geoff took him in deep and swallowed, the sensation rippling up his shaft as his body went tight. 

“Boy!” he barked out a warning, because after watching Geoff with Troy and kissing Saul, he’d already been close to the edge. His boy knew him, knew what he liked, and Carter arched, pressed deep, and shot down Geoff’s willing throat. 

His boy’s sounds were muffled and muted as Geoff sucked down everything he had to offer. “Master.” Then Geoff lapped at him, licked and sucked along his spent shaft, sending aftershocks through him, making his knees weak. 

“Damn, boy.” He blinked for a second, trying to clear his head. “I may have to keep you.” 

“If you must. I guess that would be okay.” Geoff coaxed him back down into the warm water and snuggled in. “You’re not going to ask me to sit by your feet while you work all day again, though, are you? Not. Happening.” 

He pinched one little nipple, laughing softly. “Don’t make me put you over my knee, boy.” 

Because he would, as soon as his bones solidified again, anyway. 

“Ow. Don’t fuss, sir,” his boy teased. “You’ll lose your buzz.” 

“Mmm. I don’t want that.” He wrapped his boy in his arms. He’d get Geoff off, but he could take it slow now. “You did good work tonight.” 

“Oh!” Geoff beamed at him proudly. “Did you like it? I spent a lot of time thinking about how to make it work. I think Troy was happy.” 

“I think so too. He floated out the door.” 

Geoff reached for their smoothies and handed his over. “It gets to be this really intimate thing. The first few minutes, it’s just like any other session, but then the way that Troy…” Geoff sighed and sipped his drink thoughtfully. “I don’t even know how to explain it. He has this energy, and it is about the pain but it’s also about the ink. It has a purpose, you know? And he craves that connection. It’s not him or me anymore; it’s us. We’re in it together. That’s what makes it addicting, and that’s what gets me high. He just turns his body over to me. He trusts me. He’s… for a little while, he’s mine.” 

His boy blinked the faraway stare out of his eyes and glanced at him. “Wow. Sorry. I kind of babbled there.” 

“Good. Your honesty honors me, and I want us to share your experience together.” He reached up, cupped Geoff’s jaw, thumb rubbing his boy’s bottom lip. 

“I’m just relieved that you’re a part of it again. It was too hard to think about giving it up, but I always felt guilty the day after. I never wanted to make you jealous or think…” Geoff bit that lip, still swollen from his kisses. “I love you.” 

“Boy.” Carter waited patiently for Geoff to look at him, easing that bottom lip from between his teeth. “I have never doubted you. You are my boy, balls to bones.” 

“I am. Thank you, sir.” Geoff swallowed and nuzzled into his neck. His boy’s anxiety was something they still dealt with to some extent, but he’d learned over the years how to handle it. What to say and how to say it. 

He held on, loving the contrast between hot water, cold peach, bubbling liquid, and smooth skin. 

“Did you like having Saul there?” 

Carter chuckled—softly at first, but the sound grew into a warm, full laugh. “Oh, babe. That was fun. I haven’t played with another Dom since…was it Rick and Tony we played with on the cruise?” 

“Yeah, remember that? That was a while ago. But kissing is tame compared to that cruise.” Geoff sat back and sipped his smoothie, giggling. “And I still want to know how you and Rick figured out which of you outranked who.” 

Shit, so did he. Making out with Rick had been like having a fight with a rabid grizzly bear. 

“Dom secrets, of course.” 

“Oh. Of course.” Geoff laughed harder. “Dom secrets. I wonder if Saul knows the same secrets? I can’t say that Troy and I do. But then we haven’t talked about that yet. We will though. I’m happy with this whole thing.” 

“Good. Troy really was floating.” He put his drink down and reached beneath the water to cup Geoff’s prick. “So were you.” 

Geoff gasped softly and gingerly set his own drink down too. “I was. I am still, sir. Some.” 

“Yes. Was it hard not to touch Troy? To kiss him?” He knew how much Geoff was affected by his words, by his voice. 

Geoff nodded slowly, prick filling fully in his fingers. “It’s always a temptation, sir. I’ve never told him that though.” 

“You can now.” He rubbed their cheeks together as he wrapped his fingers around Geoff’s shaft. He was still getting his head around their new relationship with Saul and Troy. He knew that Geoff and Troy already had a power-play arrangement between them that was intrinsic to the tattoo sessions, but he’d never imagined himself agreeing to such a thing in the past. Saul had changed all of them. “What do you want to do first, boy?” 

“I…” Geoff sighed in his ear, hips arching into his hand. “I want to kiss him, sir. Just lightly, something… sweet. I want to give him something that doesn’t hurt.” His boy’s words were so sincere. 

“You’ve given him pain and beauty, hmm? Now it’s time for pleasure? Such a thoughtful boy.” Carter kept his touches light, steady—not teasing, but not at all frantic. 

“And I—" His boy flicked his eyes away. Oh, that blush was something. Deep pink and the color ran long, right over the boy’s throat. 

He followed the line of throat with his lips, threatening with his teeth. “And you?” 

“I… Oh, sir.” Geoff arched to his mouth. “That. I want to taste him. Taste his ink.” 

“Your mouth is magical. You’ll make him lose his mind, boy.” He nibbled his way down to Geoff’s shoulder. “And what do you want from him, boy? Do you want him on his knees?” 

Geoff groaned. “God. I’ve never let myself think about that, but… I think I do.” 

“Mmm…” He thought he did too. While he was laying down stripes, maybe, or while Saul was fucking Troy. “You get to play with him once a month, boy. Plenty of time to plan a scene.” 

He bit down on the ball of Geoff’s shoulder, making his boy whimper and buck into his hand. “Together,” Geoff said, panting, that soft voice tight. “We’ll plan it together.” 

“Together. My favorite word.” He tightened his hand, driving Geoff that much higher. “I’d love to fuck you while you fuck his mouth, boy.” 

“Oh!” Geoff rocked against him, that pretty mouth going slack as his boy shot for him. “Fuck! Sir!” 

“Mmhmm.” Oh, very nice. Carter loosened his grip, encouraging the aftershocks to go on and on. 

“Sir. Thank you, sir.” Geoff found his mouth and kissed him between the panting and soft moans. When his boy finally relaxed, they sank back against the side of the tub together. 

“I love you, boy.” He kissed Geoff’s temple and handed his boy one of the smoothies. 

“I love you too.” Geoff took a long sip. “Do you think they’ll go for it?” 

“I have no doubt.” He grinned over. “Also, that’s one more swat for cursing.” 

 

Title: Making a Mark
Published by: Tygerseye Publishing, LLC
ASIN: B09GX963VV
ISBN13: 978-1-951011-64-2

Razor’s Edge

November 24, 2019 by
Contributors: Jodi Payne and BA Tortuga
Series: The Cowboy and the Dom Series #2
Genre: , , , ,
Release Date: January 21, 2020

Razor's Edge, The Cowboy and the Dom Trilogy, Book Two

Razor blades left by a murderer continue to remind Sam and Thomas of James, the man they lost to violence, whose killer is still out there and seems to be watching them constantly, biding his time.

Their carefully built relationship also teeters on the edge of a knife. Sam tries to be the full-time sub he thinks Thomas wants, but fails miserably, while Thomas tries to understand that Sam is unique and his cowboy’s needs don’t lend themselves to a formal BDSM lifestyle. They work through confusion, arguments, and stress, but when communication starts to break down, they struggle to reconcile their differences to learn what it means to be a “them”.

An emotional misunderstanding might be the last straw, or it might be the opportunity the killer has been waiting for to take Sam out of Thomas’s life once and for all.

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Excerpt 

Chapter One

“You want a ride home, little Sammy?” Angel looked tired, a little grumpy.

Sam got it. It was four in the morning and no one liked that time—just getting up or getting off work.

“You going that way? Toward Thomas’s, I mean.”

The big man looked over at him slowly, fingers combing his beard. “Thomas’s? At this hour?”

“Yessir. We cleaned out James’s place. It was time.” His late brother’s apartment had been hanging over the two of them for too long. They’d cleaned it out, then he’d moved in with Thomas. Crawling into bed with his lover was amazing. A lot of things he was learning these days were pretty fucking amazing. Hell, he could feel Thomas with him, feel the sweet sting of his Dom’s stripes right across his shoulders. It was proof they weren’t alone, either of them.

“What, really? Thomas was really ready to do that? You need a place to stay, I got an extra room.”

“That’s kind as all get-out. Seriously. But I’m okay.” Oh, maybe it was supposed to be a secret. Thomas had said it was important to him, to keep things where they belonged. God, he needed to keep his fucking mouth shut. “I-I think I’m going to go take myself to breakfast, man, get some reading done, but thanks.”

“Shut up, Sammy. It’s not like I don’t know he’s your Master. Are you and Thomas a romantic thing now? Is this supposed to be some big secret because he’s coming off a relationship with James? Don’t be stupid. I’ll give you a ride.”

“Thanks. I appreciate it.” He didn’t know if it was a secret, if he was a secret. He hadn’t even considered it. He’d been so caught up in everything, so proud to be with Thomas, that he hadn’t been thinking.

In some ways he was always going to be a giant redneck.

“I’ll tell you, it’s a good thing you told me, because I was about to make a move myself. No lie. Leave it to Thomas to get two O’Reilly brothers. The little shit.”

Angel led him out to that big Harley.

“There seems to be something about him, yessir.”

About to make a move on him? Sleeping with Angel would be like sleeping with his big brother, Bowie. They were just alike, the two of them—huge. Sam trusted Angel with his life, but the idea of… Whoa. No.

He would let Thomas take him in every possible way. The idea of doing that with someone else made his butthole pucker.

“Hardly seems fair.” Angel climbed on and offered him a hand, grinning wide. “Well, at least I can still get you to ride bitch.”

“Absolutely. And you’re on the top of my list for fixing me when I’m broke.”

“If Thomas breaks you, I will break his head.” Angel looked back at him. “Not joking.” They took off down city streets that were much too bright for the darkest hour of the morning, and eerily deserted too. Angel didn’t seem to care much for stoplights or speed limits or really anything that might be considered obeying traffic laws.

He loved it, loved the adrenaline rush, the way Angel drove. It made him want to learn to drive a motorcycle.

Thomas lived on a more residential street, and Angel did back off the throttle a little so the Harley rumbled rather than roared, but Sam was still pretty sure they could be heard three blocks away. “You okay? You want me to walk you in?”

“Thomas will be sound asleep, I bet. I’d hate to wake him. Thank you, though.” Angel had been a dream, driving him home, making sure everything was good.

“We won’t. I won’t come in. I just want to make sure you get in all the way.”

He nodded. “Thank you. Y’all are all good to me.”

They got into the building, and the elevator crawled up. He blinked slowly, now that he was close to home, he wanted a shower and a bowl of cereal and to curl up with Thomas. Possibly on his belly. Get the fabric off his sore shoulders.

When the elevator doors opened, he chuckled as Angel walked him to the apartment door. Sam fumbled his key out, dropped it, and picked it up, sighing at himself. “Ready for a long nap and a day off.”

He put the key in the lock, grabbed the door handle, and bit out a “Fuck!” as a razor blade sliced into his palm.

“You okay? What the—shit, you’re bleeding.” Angel took the blade in one hand and opened the door with the other. “What the actual fuck?”

Sam stood there, staring at the razor, just stunned. No. No way. No fucking way.

He’d thought it was a prankster in James’s building.

“Sammy? You okay, man? Go inside.” Angel made him move, closed and locked the door behind them. “Hey. Sam.”

“I don’t understand.” God. This wasn’t a dipshit at the apartment. This wasn’t a trickster. No. This was about him.

It was about him, and now he’d brought it to Thomas. The asshole followed him to Thomas’s building.

Fuck. This was fucking about him.

His mind spun, and his heart pounded. “I need to see if Thomas is okay.”

“If…” Angel started to question him, but must have seen how serious he was. “Go. I’ll be right behind you.”

But before they made it halfway down the hall, Thomas called out for him. “Sam? Is that you? Everything okay?”

“We need you out here, Tommy.”

“Angel?”

“Now, Tommy.”

Sam just kept walking, his hand closed against his chest. He needed to see Thomas, to make sure he was…intact.

They met in the bedroom doorway, practically colliding in Thomas’s hurry to join them. “Sam? Angel? What’s going on? Sweetheart?”

Sam searched Thomas’s eyes, which were sleepy and worried, but his lover was whole.

Angel held up the razor blade. “On your door. He wouldn’t let me clean him up before he saw you.”

Sam had brought this to Thomas’s home. Him. Goddammit.

Thomas stared at it and sighed. “Fuck.” Thomas looked back at him. “I’m fine. You need to let Angel look at that, boy. I’m calling Colletti.”

“I’m sorry.” He headed to the kitchen and stuck his hand under the water, staring at nothing. He needed to…he ought to…he was…

Angel followed him, and he heard Thomas on his cell phone in the bedroom. “Who’s Colletti? Sam. Hey.” The water suddenly went ice cold.

His eyes flew open, his entire body jerking with the cold. “I have to take a walk. I’ll be back. I’ll bring back coffee.”

What the fuck was wrong with him?

“Like hell you will. You’re in shock, Sammy. You need to sit down.” Angel took him by the arm. “Come on. You’re going to sit and let me see that cut.”

Angel sat him down, staring right in his eyes. This wasn’t Angel his buddy talking now; this was Angel the EMT. Angel the retired Army combat medic. “Breathe, Sammy. In and out. Just relax. You’re okay.”

He wasn’t okay. He wasn’t okay at all.

“Hang on.” Angel wrapped his hand up in a kitchen towel. “Sam? Do you know where you are?” He thought he felt fingers, pressure on his wrist.

“I need to get out of here. Somebody followed me.” Poor Thomas. God.

“Detective Colletti is going to call me back in the morning.”

Thomas.

“Is he okay?” Thomas knelt by his chair. “Sam, are you okay?”

“He’s tachy, pulse is high. Not really focusing. I’m gonna guess he’s altered. Special K probably, maybe on the blade. A little goes a long way.”

“What? Are you kidding?”

“He keeps saying he has to go.”

“Oh, Sam.” A warm hand pressed into his cheek. “Sam, look here.”

“I’m sorry.” He forced himself to stay perfectly still, because this was going to hurt. “I brought this here somehow.”

He was going to have to leave.

“Stop, Sam. He might just as easily have followed me. Or us. It was probably both of us when we were moving James’s things and your things. This isn’t on you. But we’re going to catch him now. Colletti’s on it. He’ll call us in the morning.”

“Shit, this is a thing? Like it’s happened before?”

“Sam cut his hand a bunch of times in the other building. Even I did once. And whoever mugged him took James’s coat and nothing else. This is real, Angel. Really fucking real.”

“Oh, fuck.” Angel looked like thunderclouds were forming in his mind. “I can’t fucking believe it. Let me see your hand, Sammy.”

Sam looked to Thomas, frozen where he was. He’d known Thomas would agree that he should leave. That Thomas would say it wasn’t worth it.

“Yeah. He’s out of it.” Angel just took his hand.

“Sweetheart, I’m right here. I’ve got you; you’re safe, okay? Angel says there was something on that blade that’s got you a little…stoned.”

“I don’t suppose you know when his last tetanus shot was?”

He heard Thomas snort.

“I’m going to call Gina. She’s on tonight. He needs a tetanus shot and some stitches. Take some blood. It’ll take a few. You keep him here and calm.”

“I need to—I’m sorry.” And scared. What if this was punishment for falling in love with Thomas? What if this was all his fault?

“I’ve got him. I’m just going to take him to the couch. Hope Gina doesn’t mind my boxer briefs. Come on, sweetheart. Come with me.” Thomas pulled him out of the chair, but walking was hard, so he floated a little and landed on the couch in Thomas’s arms. “You need to relax and stop saying you’re sorry. There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

Sam took a couple of deep breaths, trying to clear his head, trying to focus.

Okay. Come on, Sam. Get with the program. Wake up. Focus. “I was going to take a shower.”

A shower, a bowl of cereal, snuggling.

“I thought he’d gotten in, gotten to you.”

“You were scared, huh? I’m okay, sweetheart. I’m fine. And you’ll be fine once this…shit…wears off. Colletti thinks this is good. He thinks we’ll catch him now.”

Thomas just held him still and close. It wasn’t snuggling, but it didn’t suck.

“I vote we electrify the doorknob.”

His words drew a harsh laugh from Angel.

“I like it, Sammy. Fry the motherfucker.”

“Security camera. There are some outside the building, a couple inside too. Maybe Colletti can get the recordings. We’ll put one on the door.” Thomas stroked his head, his back.

He felt the hint of ache, the buzz from where Thomas had marked him, and his body relaxed, his panicked thoughts slowing.

“Gina is on her way.”

***

His day with Thomas, work, the panic, the drugs—nobody was happier than he was when the EMTs quit poking at him and headed back out the door. Angel saw the paramedics out safe and promised to stop by the next day to check in.

Thomas locked the door, including securing a chain that he’d seen hanging but hadn’t seen Thomas use before. “You want that shower, babe?”

“I do. I smell like beer.” He stood up, telling himself he needed to act like a normal, functional human being, not a stoned, stitched-up, freaked-out asshole.

Thomas caught him under one arm with a smile. “You look a little like you’ve been drinking it.” They headed down the hall together, that arm through his sturdy and warm. “You need help? Or can you manage with that hand? Oh—or is that a dumb question because you’ve broken every bone in your body and somehow have managed to shower on your own for twenty-five years?”

“Almost twenty-six.” Did he need help? No. Did he want help? God, yes. There were terrors and guilt waiting in the back of his brain, and he didn’t want to be alone with them.

“God, you’re getting old. I better come help.” He got a kiss and a smile, and Thomas started helping him undress. “You do smell like beer. Wow.”

“It’s Saturday night. I had four thrown at me. It was great.”

Thomas just gave him a shake of the head.

He knew why his lover didn’t say anything, never did about the bar. It wasn’t disapproval, or a judgment on him. Thomas just didn’t like it. He hadn’t liked it from the start—since his initiation. But his lover seemed to understand that he needed the work and never asked him not to stay, never made a stink about his choices.

Thomas got the water hot and muscled him into the shower, then set his hand up on the tile to keep it dry.

He was already feeling less fuzzy—more tired and drained from the adrenaline rush, but those sensations he knew at least—and he just…well, he didn’t understand. Why him? Why James? Why them? Was it someone at the building? Someone he worked with at Mike’s? How could it be? James didn’t go to Mike’s, hadn’t ever. Someone at Thomas’s men’s club? Why him, then? No one knew about them, and Angel had just found out tonight.

Oh. Angel knew. He needed to apologize to Thomas about telling their secret. He also needed to remind Thomas that he wasn’t completely clear on all the rules and what was a secret and what wasn’t and, shit, Angel was a friend. A real friend. But still, he needed to figure out what was between them and the bedpost and what wasn’t.

Maybe he just needed a shot or twelve and a nap.

Was six thirty in the morning too late to start drinking?

“Earth to Sam. Give me your head. Where’d you go?” Thomas started scrubbing shampoo into his hair and massaging his scalp. Oh. Thomas was actually in the shower. Like, in it with him.

“I was caught in my brain.” He hummed at the touch and leaned. He’d never done this—been with a lover in the shower. He didn’t want to miss a second of it.

“Mm-hm. I’ve made it my personal mission to get you out of your brain. Or at least into the fun part.” Thomas tipped his head back into the spray and scrubbed the soap out. “Like this. This is the fun part.”

“Yes, Sir.” He closed his eyes and let the world tighten to right here with Thomas. He should be worrying, but he was just wearing down.

“We are going to finish getting you cleaned up, and you’re going to go to bed. And you’re going to stay there until this darkness under your eyes goes away and you have color back in your face. So tell me who I talk to at the bar, because you’re not going in tonight.”

“Daddy Mike.” He answered without thought, without argument, because the idea of bed and Thomas and rest captured him.

“Good boy.” Thomas spent some time with him, running gentle, soapy hands over his skin just because he needed it, not asking or expecting anything from him but that he stay present. They toweled off, and they both had a laugh as Thomas combed his hair. “This is a new one for me. Fun, but new.”

“Me too. My first shower with a lover.” He was living in a world of firsts.

“Really?” A kiss caught him by surprise, and Thomas winked. “You got ripped off. I’ll make it much more fun next time.”

“Sounds like a plan. I’m not feeling like Super Fun Boy right now.” He tried for a smile. “Angel offered me a ride home; he does most nights. I told him I was staying here. He was shocked, and I didn’t realize I maybe shouldn’t have said anything. If I wasn’t supposed to, I’m sorry.”

“I appreciate that he gets you home safely, especially tonight. Why shouldn’t you say anything? Are you worried about your job or something?”

“No. No, he just seemed like…” He closed his eyes as he tried to remember. “Like he was surprised. He offered me his spare room.”

“Hey.” Thomas took his hands, leading him back into the bedroom. “I’m proud of you as my sub, and I’m happy to show you off as my lover to anyone who is looking my way. Will some people be put off by it? Maybe, but it’s really none of their affair. Angel probably seemed shocked because the last he knew we were still essentially negotiating. You and I have grown together very quickly, and I just haven’t spoken to him since you moved in. That’s all. He didn’t know because I hadn’t had a chance to say anything, not because I don’t want the whole world to know you’re mine.”

“Good.” He leaned in, filling his senses with Thomas, letting it soothe the sore spots, let Thomas in to the tender bits that needed loving on. “I felt you with me, all night.”

Oh, Thomas liked that. That little growl, deep in his chest said it all. “Come to bed, sweetheart.”

“Yes, Sir.” He let Thomas settle him, propping him up and around with pillows and Thomas’s body until he could melt into the comfort. A deep sigh escaped him.

“You sleep and trust that I’ve got this. I’ve got you.” Thomas kissed him lightly. “Rest.”

“Got me.” He was gone before he could kiss Thomas back.

 

Title: Razor's Edge
Published by: Tygerseye Publishing, LLC
ASIN: B083F4VR98

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Hide Bound

December 28, 2021 by
Contributors: Jodi Payne, BA Tortuga
Series: Les's Bar #2
Genre: , , , , ,
Release Date: January 18, 2022
Pages: 276

Peter Marshall has had enough of working for Parks and Rec when he comes across an opening for a real carpentry job and decides to give it a go. Building things is his passion, so even though the shop seems a little out there, and the owner seems pretty grumpy, Peter decides to go for it.

Brandon McPhail wishes he didn’t have to hire a new carpenter, but his current one is going out on maternity leave. He’s especially wary of this kid who can’t possibly be old enough to spell BDSM, let alone know what the lifestyle means. But Peter impresses Brandon with both his talent and his tenacity, so Brandon hires him on, reminding himself that he’s in a wheelchair due to his MS, he had a terrible experience in his last relationship, and despite how clueless Peter is about the lifestyle, he’s not interested in taking on another sub.

The chemistry between them is undeniable, though, and it’s not long before they’re exploring what they can learn from each other. Peter is a natural at fulfilling Brandon’s needs, and Brandon thinks he’s teaching Peter everything he’s eager to learn, but when danger threatens, they have to help their friends through it while trying to navigate their new relationship. Can they forge bonds strong enough to bind them together for life?

Note to readers: Each book in this series is a true standalone, so don't be confused when you discover that Hide Bound takes place before Just Dex in the "timeline". That was deliberate, and you don't need to have read one to read the other.

Buy the Book: Amazon~~Universal eBook Links

Also in this series:

 

Chapter One 

 

“What are you looking at, Peter?” 

Shane, Peter Marshall’s tattoo artist, was also a professional piercer, and therefore one of Peter’s favorite people in the whole world. 

“Classifieds.” 

Peter spent so much time in Shane’s shop that it felt like he belonged there. Shane had been working on outlining and coloring Peter’s amazing sleeve and chest piece for a long while, bit by bit as Peter found the money. He’d almost taken off his shirt when he walked in the door this morning; it was a weird automatic thing to just strip it off every time he got there. 

But today he wasn’t getting more ink, he was getting snake bites on the left side of his lower lip. Two small, black horseshoe rings to match his septum ring, only these had little triangular ends that Shane called spikes. He liked that they sounded a little dangerous but weren’t really; they were just a little pokey. 

Shane put dots on his lip with a marking pen and showed him the placement. “Looking for work?” 

“Always.” He handed the mirror back to Shane. “That looks great.” 

“You’re a contractor, right?” 

“Yeah, but I’m really a carpenter by—” Shane startled him by tilting his chair back suddenly so he was reclining a little. “Whoa.” 

Shane grinned evilly at him. “Sorry, man. Did I forget to warn you?” 

Peter laughed. “Gosh, I guess you did.” 

“Okay, no more talking. I’m working.” 

He gave Shane a thumbs up and closed his eyes. 

He really needed a new job. Right now he worked for New York City Parks and Rec as a contractor, and he spent his time fixing things—gates and picnic tables, usually things stupid people broke. The older guys he worked with called it job security, but Peter didn’t feel like he needed to be fixing the toilets in the public restrooms in Central Park to feel secure. 

He was good at the job though; he could fix almost anything. He liked to say he knew just enough about plumbing and electricity to be dangerous, but he hadn’t actually blown anything up or hurt anyone yet. Anyone but himself anyway, and that was fine. 

He did like a few bruises. 

He felt the quick pressure and slight sting as the piercing went through his lip and his mind drifted just a bit. The second one stung more than the first and pushed him even farther away. He snorted when Shane teased him about the little grin he thought he was suppressing. 

“You like that, huh? You’re into pain, I know.” 

“Yeah, some. Sorry.” He was weird. But Shane wasn’t going to tell anyone. 

“No worries. You have to be willing to dish it out a little to do what I do, too. It’s all good.” 

Another reason Shane was one of his favorites. 

“I’m going to sit you up. Open your eyes when you’re ready and have a look.” Shane pressed a hand mirror into his fingers knowing he’d settle in a second and raised the head of the chair. 

After a time, he couldn’t be sure how long, he had a look. “Oh, perfect. I love the spikes.” 

“They’re great. Stylish and a little intimidating. Clean the outside a few times a day, don’t use mouthwash or kiss anyone for a week or so. You’re good to go.” 

He swung his legs off the table and stood up, blinking at the little surge of lightheadedness. Mmm, that was good. He offered Shane a hand. “Thanks, man.” 

“More ink next week? I’m itching to finish the outline across your shoulders.” 

Rent was due Friday so that was iffy. “If I have the cash, I’ll be here.” 

“Even if you don’t. I really want to finish that bit; it’s killing me.” Shane winked at him. 

He agreed and pulled his phone back out, reading the ad he’d been looking at for the fifth time. 

Midtown boutique seeks full-time carpenter for custom furniture builds. 

Real work. Custom work. 

Must have experience. Blah blah blah. 

No sweat. 

The place was called “Hide Bound”, and he figured it was one of those made-to-order places that built stuff to spec. It wasn’t design work, but it was a far cry from replacing yet another flush handle. 

So that was going to be his next stop. Him and his fat lip. 

He sent a little prayer up to the gods of job hunting that the position paid well enough he could say yes if it was offered to him.

Title: Hide Bound
Published by: Tygerseye Publishing, LLC
ASIN: B09PGKXTSK
ISBN13: 978-1-951011-68-0

Roped In

March 16, 2022 by
Contributors: Jodi Payne, BA Tortuga
Series: On the Ranch Series #2
Genre: , , , , , ,
Release Date: May 10, 2022

They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, but sometimes distance makes people drift apart.

Rope Canutt has announced his retirement from bull riding and is making the most of his final year on the circuit, riding the big shows and resting in between so he can finish the season on a high note. He isn’t sure what’s next for him. He has no plan yet and nowhere to go, especially since his family sold their ranch a few years back.

Jude Sharpe remembers Rope fondly from their younger days in Austin. Mostly he remembers how hot the rodeo cowboy was and how much fun they had hooking up every time their paths crossed. That was a long time ago, and Jude’s been married and lost his husband to cancer in the years since they’ve seen each other. Now he’s raising a son alone.

When bull riding comes to New York City, Jude’s consulting firm uses their private box to entertain clients from Houston, and Jude brings his son Silas along to see the show. Rope is riding and Jude hopes to introduce Silas to a real bull rider. They’ve each lived a whole lifetime apart, and Jude and Rope aren’t sure how much they have in common anymore. So will they be drawn to each other when their paths cross again?

The books in this series are standalones and can be read in any order.

Buy the Book: Amazon~~Barnes & Noble~~iBooks~~Publisher~~Kobo~~Smashwords~~Universal eBook Links

Also in this series:

 

Chapter One 

 

“Can I get a hat?” 

“No, you don’t need a hat, buddy.” 

“Daddy! Everyone here has a cowboy hat on.” 

Ah, the familiar refrain of how life wasn’t fair. Jude shrugged. “I don’t.” 

Silas rolled his eyes. “Please?” 

“Not tonight, bud.” 

Jude could understand why Silas wanted a hat; what kid didn’t want to be a cowboy? At seven, Silas was right at that age where he was impressed with every kind of uniform. But growing up in New York, Silas had seen lots of cops and firefighters and construction workers. He hadn’t ever seen cowboys that weren’t on TV. 

It had been a long time since Jude had seen one too. In fact, he wasn’t all that comfortable being here tonight. But he and several colleagues were entertaining clients and their families to celebrate the closing of their latest deal and skipping out wasn’t an option. 

Usually the firm went for hockey or basketball games, but this client was a big investment firm based outside Houston, so the marketing team had given them the hospitality suite for night one of the annual bull riding event at Madison Square Garden. 

Bull riders. Yeah. That had been a lifetime ago. 

“See? They have hats too!” As they approached the suite, Silas pointed to a handful of kids with little plastic cowboy hats on. 

Now, that was a possibility. “You want one of those?” 

“Please, Daddy?” 

“Hey, Jude! We’re right in here.” 

The Beatles song played in his mind. Yes, even at thirty-four years old, he did it too. 

“Hey, David. Whoa, Silas! Look at all of this.” He led Silas inside and showed him the buffet, which was set up in front of a backdrop of a big red barn. At the end of the buffet was a stack of swag, including the plastic cowboy hats, pins, and T-shirts. 

“Hats!” Silas looked at him for permission, and he nodded. Free swag for the win. 

“Lord have mercy, this is a good spread.” One of the wives with cotton candy hair and smoky eyes smiled at him. “Seriously. This is wild—I came all the way from Texas to New York to see a bull riding.” 

Her husband had brought her here so he could sign what was probably the most lucrative deal of his career, but he wasn’t going to say that. Jack was a good client and a better person. “It’s a novelty here. Something we only get to see on TV. It’s popular though, they say it sells out every year. Have you been to New York before?” 

“No, strangely enough. I’ve been to Boston, DC, LA, but this is my first time here. It’s so fun. I’ve had a ball exploring.” When she bounced, her earrings and boobs bounced, but her hair didn’t move. 

He remembered this was work and didn’t stare, but that was fascinating. A cheer went up and he glanced toward the arena floor. Whoever that cowboy was must have made his eight. “I like that sound.” 

“Daddy! Daddy, that cow’s butt is dirty!” 

He glanced over in time to see a shit-covered bull backside up on the big screen. Yay. 

“Yep, that’s pretty gross.” He shook his head and grinned at Jack’s wife. She had a name. He’d been introduced, but he couldn’t remember. “Kids.” 

“Aren’t they amazing? I have five at home, so I totally feel you.” She winked at Silas. “At least it’s not smell-o-vision, right?” 

Silas wrinkled his nose. “Ew.” 

“Did you get a drink, Jude? Oh, hey, Camilla. Things are starting to heat up out there, I think Jack has a seat for you.” 

Camilla. He would never have remembered that. David to the rescue. 

David leaned over close. “Apparently between the sections, they’ll send cowboys up to make nice and sign things, so that will be exciting.” 

“Oh yeah? A bunch of Wrangler butts. Should be a good time.” And a little too close for comfort. “Probably not the celebrity types though, right?” 

“I haven’t the slightest idea. I’m just pleased that they are sending people up. It will go over well with the Texans, I think.” 

“Oh. For sure. Did you see Kevin’s email? He’s already gunning for more work with them.” David handed him a beer. “Thanks.” 

“I’m not sure bull riding is my thing. Most of these guys are just getting tossed.” 

“Sometimes it starts slow. It gets more exciting as the night goes on.” 

David raised a curious eyebrow. “I didn’t know you were a fan.” 

“I have…friends that ride. Had a friend. A while ago.” And it was time to shut his mouth. 

“Really? You? That’s—fascinating. Seriously. I wouldn’t have imagined.” David’s eyes went wide. 

“No, most people wouldn’t. It’s like you and your pre-grad school singing career.” He winked at David and held out his beer. “Cheers.” 

“Right. Cheers. That’s cool.” David rolled his eyes and looked out the window. “I’m going to go make sure everyone’s having a good time.” 

“Sounds good.” That worked like a charm. 

“Daddy, can we watch?” Silas had a huge hot dog in one hand and a Coke in the other. 

“Yes. Let me take that Coke.” He took it, and left it on the counter, trading it for a bottle of water instead and leading the way out to the leather-covered seats. “We’re watching in style, bud. Check it out.” 

“Whoa!” 

He let Silas choose where to sit and settled in next to him. 

“Have you ever been on a cow, Daddy? Do you think it hurts when they fall? How does the cow know what to do?” Silas was bright-eyed, watching everything from the gate pullers to the clown. 

“I haven’t been on one, but I can tell you that it definitely hurts when they fall.” He had no idea how the bulls knew what to do, but they definitely knew they had a job out there. 

He looked at the card that had been on his seat, which listed who was riding when, and scanned it, knowing he’d find the rider he was looking for. He didn’t know why he was so anxious about running into Rope Canutt again, because that was years ago. Another lifetime. But it had been less of a breakup and more of a fizzle, and he’d always felt badly for not ending it right. 

Apparently not badly enough to quit being a coward and pick up the phone, though. 

Rope was on the list, sure enough, in the fourth section of riders. Not at the end with the most famous guys, not at the beginning with the newbies, but in the middle. 

That wasn’t surprising; he knew Rope was retiring at the end of this season. Jude had been checking in over the years, watching him ride, following Rope’s career. Not like a hard-core fan, but with interest. At arm’s length. 

“Daddy!” A rider went down, the bullfighters doing their jobs, and Silas was out of his seat. 

He didn’t know that kid from a hole in the wall, but his heart started racing, and he gripped his fingers together to keep them from shaking. He made himself look away and just breathe, pretending to study the sheet on his lap, and after a few seconds he had everything under control. 

Okay. 

“All good, bud?” Jude picked up his beer and took a sip. 

“That was scary. Is he okay?” Silas glanced up at him, and he could see the hint of panic, just right there. 

Jude took Silas’s hand and pulled him back into his seat. “He’ll be fine. These cowboys are tough. They do this all the time. Did you get to see the bullfighters running that bull off? Pretty cool, huh?” He was the king of redirecting. 

“Yeah. Yeah, they’re brave, huh? Like you?” 

Well, that made him feel ten feet tall. “Even braver. Like you.” He put an arm around Silas’s shoulders and squeezed. Damn. It had been long enough that he hadn’t even thought about whether this would be hard for either of them. He decided that was mostly a good thing—there was a time when he’d thought about it constantly. 

Losing Nigel had been more than hard, closer to impossible, and he still wasn’t sure some days that he and Silas would be okay. 

They had to be, though. Especially Silas. “I heard there might be some cowboys coming up to do autographs, bud.” 

“Yeah? What will they sign?” 

“Anything you want. Maybe your program?” he suggested. 

“Can I get a picture too?” 

“Probably. I don’t see why not.” Silas wouldn’t be the only one wanting pictures. 

“That’s cool! A real cowboy, Daddy. We’re going to meet a real-life cowboy.” 

Okay, that smile was worth every second of this. “Awesome, right?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, awesome.” Silas grabbed his hand and squeezed it. “They’re going to go again. Are you ready?” 

Maybe? “Yes. Watch the gate.” He held on just as tight as the gate flew open and the bull leapt out. 

The cowboy flew off as soon as the bull cleared the gate. That was going to leave a bruise. 

“Oops.” He winced. 

“Ouch,” Silas said at the same time, and they looked at each other and laughed. 

“If it were easy everyone would do it, right?” 

“I guess so. I’d be scared, I think, to get up on one of those.” 

“I would too. That is definitely not a sport for me. Are you scared to watch too? We don’t have to if it’s not fun for you. It’s okay.” 

“No. I want to. I want to know how they do it.” That was his son—so interested in why and how things worked. 

“Okay.” He remembered watching Rope on event weekends, signing autographs. He complained about the adults sometimes, but never the kids. Maybe he could suck up his regret if… “Well, I think someone pretty cool is coming up in a bit. He’s a former champion, and he’s really good.” 

“Yeah? What’s his name? Do you know him? Is he nice?” Silas couldn’t figure out whether to look at him or the arena floor. 

“His name is Rope, and he is nice.” And fun and cocky and hot as hell. “I did know him a long time ago. Long before you and Dad, and even before I got my job.” He pointed to the floor. “Behind the gate, the rider is getting his rope all ready, the one that he holds onto. And the other guys are helping him get focused for his ride.” 

“So…he just holds onto the rope? He’s not tied in?” 

Silas was really thinking about this. It was kind of wonderful. “It’s wrapped really tight around a glove on his hand. He has to be able to let go so he can get off the bull. They can’t tie him in, right?” 

“No. No, that would be scary and dangerous, huh?” Look at those wide eyes. 

“That’s right. They do everything they can to make it less dangerous. You watch his head, and when you see him nod, the gate will open fast.” 

He remembered Rope, bragging in that way guys did at nineteen, telling him all about how everyone out there had a job to do. The guy pulling his rope, the guy holding his vest, the bullfighters, even the bull had a job. Eight seconds went by so fast everyone had to have their heads in the game. 

He got it a little bit, really. They’d broken up because they both had to have their heads in their respective games, and they couldn’t change that. 

Now that he was explaining things to Silas, he was starting to look forward to seeing Rope ride in person. 

“You’re going to have to have a cowboy explain all the spurring and the balance things… I don’t know much about how that’s done. I just know that the harder the ride, the higher the points.” 

“Don’t forget the bull is half the points. That’s real important.” 

Jude would know that voice anywhere. 

Anywhere. 

Rope Canutt stood there like a bent and broken angel, an ancient scar from a roping accident splitting the man’s lower lip. 

He stood and looked Rope over, finally meeting those green eyes that had fascinated him so long ago. He supposed he ought to see more age, but all he saw was the crooked smile and handsome face that he remembered. 

He had no idea what to say. 

And his mouth had gone dry anyway. 

He patted Silas’s shoulder. “Silas, this is Mister Canutt. He’s a bull rider.” 

Silas’s eyes grew wide. “For real?” 

“Yes, sir. For real. Rope, pleased to meet you, Silas. Are you enjoying the event?” Rope held his hand out to Silas, the smile warm. 

Jude had to smile back at the awed look on Silas’s face as his son shook hands with Rope. Silas nodded but didn’t say anything at all. 

“Silas is very curious about how it all works,” he offered, trying to help things along. 

“Well, you see them bulls? Stock contractors bring them up from all over the country. Buckin’ bulls are special types of livestock.” Rope kept jabbering, telling Silas how bull riding worked in that soft, lilting voice. 

Silas was riveted, listening to every word like it was so important. It was the first thing Silas had shown real interest in since they’d lost Nigel. 

“Can I see the bulls?” 

“Oh, I don’t know, bud. Rope is working, you know.” 

“Those beasts aren’t pets, but I might be able to introduce you to Harker’s horse, Jimbo, after the event.” 

“Really?” Silas’s eyes lit up. “Is that okay Daddy? Please? Can I?” 

He nodded. “If Rope can manage it, but you have to promise not to be upset if he can’t, okay?” Not that he really expected a seven-year-old to be able to keep a promise like that, but at least he could say he tried. 

“Okay! Thank you! Oh. I have to get a program so you can sign it!” Silas climbed right over the back of his seat and disappeared into the suite. 

“Harker won’t mind. He likes kids.” Rope held out his hand. “Jude.” 

“Rope.” He took the offered hand and shook it, grateful they’d had Silas as an ice breaker. “Thank you for all of that. It means more than you know.” 

“No problem. None at all. Good to see you, man.” He got this shit-eating grin. “You look fine.” 

“I was thinking the same about you.” He felt the tips of his ears heat up and he was surprised that Rope could still make him blush. “It’s nice to see you again. I’d ask how things are going, but I know. I’ve been keeping an eye on you.” 

“Fixin’ to retire. Having my final year. Good stuff.” Rope smiled down at Silas and took a Sharpie out of his pocket, signing the program. “Here you go, little man. If you come down after the event, we’ll see Jimbo.” 

“Thank you!” Silas was so excited. 

“We’ll be there.” He wasn’t ready for Rope to walk away yet, but he wasn’t sure why. “Good ride.” 

“Every one you walk away from, yessir.” Rope shook Silas’s hand and his. “Looking forward to seeing y’all later.” 

He watched Rope go, enjoying the view of Rope’s ass in his Wranglers, and wondered if Rope was hoping he was watching.

Title: Roped In
Published by: Tygerseye Publishing, LLC
ASIN: B09VD8LB9T
ISBN13: 978-1-951011-72-7

Deviations: Domination

April 11, 2017 by
Contributors: Jodi Payne and Chris Owen
Series: Deviations #2
Genre: , , , ,
Release Date: December 30, 2019 (Third Edition)
Pages: 324

In this sequel to Deviations: Submission, Dom Tobias and Sub Noah are back, learning more about each other and their relationship, and testing the boundaries of what they can and can’t handle, both together and apart.

Tobias works at becoming more comfortable and finding his balance as a full-time Master again. His work brings out the true submissive in Noah, who faces some of his greatest fears, and his greatest secrets, finally confessing to Tobias about a terrible time in his past.

But Noah is not the only one who has a rough time. Tobias breaks down and shows Noah he's not all Dominance, too, which sends shockwaves through their romance, leaving them to wonder if they can hold onto their balance together.

Dominations is a deep exploration of the BDSM scene, with secondary characters who enhance the story and a central romance that has the reader rooting for Tobias and Noah to work through their obstacles and come out stronger.

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EXCERPT FROM DOMINATION

Wednesday. It had been a long, drawn-out week, and Tobias couldn't believe it was still only Wednesday.

He'd had a full day, out of town as usual in the morning, helping a mare to foal. She threw a beautiful dark bay colt that presented very much like his particularly handsome sire, and Tobias had considered making a bid for him right then and there but restrained himself. He was already training Noah; he didn't need another colt to complicate their weekends. Things were busy enough in his life without adding a new horse to his stables, a new responsibility to his already full plate.

In the few weeks since he'd met Noah at his club, Tobias had swung from one rush of feeling to another. Sexually, they were more than compatible, Noah's natural submissive tendencies meshing well with Tobias' own need to dominate. It went deeper than just mere sex, however, and in very short order Tobias and Noah had signed a six-month contract binding them together in a more tangible power exchange.

It was serious, it was important, and it was very heady. Tobias found almost all of his time taken up with thinking about his new submissive, lost in plans and a fair number of daydreams. It made his hours working as a large animal veterinarian seem almost relaxing by comparison. He only hoped that Noah's daydreams were confined to when he wasn't in his patrol car -- a police officer with his mind on his relationship wasn't good for anyone.

When Tobias walked in the door of his uptown condo, he set his keys down on the hall table and hit the play button on the answering machine as he pulled off his boots. After a long beep a rich male voice began to speak. ''Hello, Tobias, it's Bradford. I haven't seen you or your boy around the club in nearly a month. I trust this is a good sign? I'd like to get together and hear about how things are going. Yes, as a matter of fact, I am checking up on you; don't get your knickers in a twist, friend, it's just that... well, I worry. Oh, thank you for sending me a copy of your contract, I've put that in your files. Give me a call, Tobias, and let's have dinner. I'd like to catch up.''

Tobias sighed ruefully and nodded to himself. On some level he'd expected the call, though he hadn't really thought about it in terms of Bradford checking up on them. Still, it wouldn't be a trial to talk about Noah and where things stood at the moment; in fact, he'd welcome another perspective. He had a plan for the weekend and it might be a good idea to talk it over with someone who knew them both.

After stopping in the kitchen long enough to determine that he needed to order out for dinner, Tobias picked up the phone and called Bradford's direct line at the club. If the man didn't pick up, he'd at least be able to leave a message.

''Hello?'' Bradford was a man who'd done very, very well for himself. Part of his success was due to the fact that he could always be relied upon to respect the anonymity and privacy of his members and guests. Case in point, he never answered the phone with his own name or the name of the club, just a simple, discreet greeting, giving away nothing until he knew who was on the other end of the line.

''Good evening, Bradford,'' Tobias said with a smile. ''I got your message, Mother.''

''Ah, sonny-boy, so good to hear from you.'' Bradford snorted. ''Don't give me that crap, Tobias. I set the two of you up, you're both important members, and I want to know how it's going for you. That's called integrity, hmm? Trust me, I haven't a maternal bone in my body.''

Tobias grinned, not buying it for a moment. ''Sure. Whatever you say. You can stop worrying, though; things are fine.'' He crossed to the big window in his living room and looked out at the city lights, counting blocks until he found Noah's.

'''Fine' is such a drab, generic word, Tobias. Tell me what you really mean,'' Bradford encouraged.

''I mean... fine. Good. Great. He's coming along nicely; we've established a base level trust, I think.'' He turned and leaned on the window sill, facing the room. ''He had dinner with Phantom last week.'' Tobias resisted the urge to cringe at the thought of the two men, his new lover and his past lover, chatting happily over dinner. They both tended toward the unpredictable, and that worried him.

''Oh, yes, I know he did. That's part of the reason for my call. I gather it went well? Phan thought he was 'hot.''' Bradford loved gossip and made himself privy to all the rumors around the club. At first glance one might call it catty, but Tobias knew better -- he was simply protecting his own.

''It seemed to go well. Noah was fine when I saw him later. Calm, steady... he seemed to think Phan was -- look, how deep do you want to go here? I'd rather do this in person if you're looking for a long debrief. If you're just needing quiet assurances, both Noah and I are fine. The weekends are going well, and we're in touch through the week as well.''

Tobias knew as soon as he spoke that he'd sounded snappish and protective and that Bradford wouldn't miss it. The trouble was, he wasn't sure why he suddenly felt like pulling back -- and that meant he needed to talk it out. He sighed. ''Damn circular logic,'' he muttered.

''Tobias,'' Bradford sighed and made a clicking sound with his tongue. ''Be my guest tomorrow night for dinner. Here. What would you like to eat? I'll make sure it's prepared for you.''

Tobias rolled his eyes, safely several miles out of Bradford's view. ''Something gentle. Linguini in clam sauce?'' He hoped the tacit acceptance would be enough.

''Done. I look forward to seeing you, Tobias, it's been long enough,'' Bradford said softly, and Tobias could practically hear the man's very genuine smile.

He found himself smiling in reply. ''I'll see you tomorrow night, old friend. Around seven, I think.'' He hung up and turned once more to look out over the city, watching the cars cruise along Lincoln, toward downtown and Noah.

Title: Domination
Published by: Tygerseye Publishing, LLC
ASIN: B0839M66Z6
ISBN13: 978-1-951011-19-2

 

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Cowboy Protection

November 2, 2022 by
Contributors: Jodi Payne & BA Tortuga
Series: Merry Everything Series #2
Genre: , , , , , ,
Release Date: 11/22/22
Pages: 256

Maverick “Mackey” Keyes keeps the rodeo cowboys safe on his watch and he knows how to make his bullfighting team walk the line. He might be starting to feel his years, but he’s a pro, and he’s not afraid of anything that might happen on the arena floor.

Sidney Scott knows how to go with the flow, so when his dream job passes him by, he grabs the chance to work the bull riding circuit as a TV producer. He’s going to do the job right, traveling with the show, even if he hears some rumbling from the riders.

Mackey and Sid butt heads more than once, but when it really counts, they manage to get on the same page. When Mackey is injured, Sid steps up to help, and things take a far more personal turn. They might have been able to ignore the growing attraction between them at work, but a long road trip over the Christmas holiday and time away from the other cowboys lets them find something together that neither of them expect, but both of them need.

Cowboy Protection is an opposites attract, rodeo romance featuring a bullfighter and a corporate suit, with a side of holiday magic.

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Chapter 1 

“Don’t flatter yourself, cowboy! I was staring at your truck.” Maverick Keyes leaned against his wheel well and grinned as Grainger and Hayden tumbled out of their shiny new Dodge, the twins all arms and legs and goofy grins. “Lord have mercy, y’all. You two have a good July break?” 

“Yes, sir!” Grainger said, giving him a wide grin. “Me and Hayden are ready to work, though. Momma was fixin’ to toss our happy asses out the damn door.” 

“She sent you some chow chow, says to say thank you for raising us, Mackey.” 

“Shee-it. I’m just trying to get you boys killed.” He’d been worried about taking them on if he was honest, which he was, if only to himself. Twenty was a wild time, and two twenties somehow worked out to the smarts of a single eighteen. Still, him and Tommy had talked on it, and the twins were strong, fearless, and focused on the dirt, so he’d hired them. Now they had a solid team, with Fabiano there to work as an alternate. It had only taken about a year. 

“Promises, promises.” Jack Boers wandered up, smacking one of the boys on the shoulder. “Lord have mercy, ain’t it fixin’ to come up a cloud?” 

Lord love a duck, Jack was a hot bastard with his silver hair and his deep eye lines. They’d knocked boots more than once, but Jack was a horndog that needed something Mackey wasn’t, so they’d decided ten some odd years ago to be the hand job type of friends. Still, he was the best buddy a man could have, and one hell of a safety man to boot. 

“It’s gonna pour, and my knees say it’s gonna be a gullywhomper.” He’d been enjoying the summer, but even in the south, September was whispering about autumn. “You seen Tommy?” 

“No, sir. I seen y’all and Ollie when I unloaded the horses. That’s it.” 

Mackey stuck his tongue out at Jack. “Grab your gear, boyos. Warm-up is in an hour. Don’t be late.” 

The twins saluted him and ran off, spending more energy than he had in his whole self. 

Mackey shook his head. “It’s hell getting old.” 

“No shit on that, cowboy. We having steaks after the show? I’m starving.” 

“Yessir.” First though, he needed to call Tommy and find out where the Aussie was. “You staying at the host hotel tonight?” 

“Shit yes. I love casino hotels. They suit me to the ground. I’ll see you in the arena, Mack-Daddy.” Jack patted his butt and wandered off. 

He grabbed his phone, punching the second number on his favorites, after Jack and before the twins’ momma, and waited for the son of a bitch to answer. 

“Oi, I’m coming. You’re such a mother hen.” 

“Uh-huh. You’re late.” He always told Tommy to be somewhere an hour before he was supposed to show. 

“Now, Mother. You and I both know I’m not. I’ll be there. I was having a lick of fun.” 

“Don’t.” He didn’t want to hear about whatever Tommy was doing or with who. That bastard just had to grin and twinkle those blue eyes and men and women alike opened their legs like they had a button. “Just come on.” 

“You want a cherry limeade? I’ll fix you up, Mother.” 

Oh lord have mercy, Tommy knew how to make him happy. “Make it a big one. Extra cherries.” 

“For you, mate, always.” 

Mackey hung up the phone without saying goodbye. Sorry son of a bitch. 

“Mackey, everything good?” 

God, but he hated that voice. Cody Roberts was the president of the league, voted in by the cowboys running shit, and his direct line to God, from what he understood. “Right as rain.” 

“Don’t talk about rain, buddy. It’s going to pour.” 

“Bulls don’t mind mud, and the arena’s covered. We’re good.” Only one he stressed was Jack, and his mare Princess was sure-footed as fuck. 

“Still, crowds don’t like it. They want sunshine.” 

Shit, they wanted wrecks, cowboy butts, and at least one great ride. The fans gave no shits about the other. “Yes, sir.” 

“Your team all present?” 

“Yes, sir. All checked in.” Mostly. In theory. 

“Good man. Have a good show. You ready for your TV spot?” 

“Yup.” Not even a bit. He’d just ramble on about how Sparkle Night always turned right and make faces at Danny behind the lens. “You putting Stock on live?” 

He made sure not to smile a bit. Stockard Manning was the clown, was in contract negotiations, and was possibly the meanest motherfucker on earth. They got along like a house afire. 

Stock and live TV? Not so much. 

“Fuck you, Mackey.” Cody did chuckle though. “Get to work, bud.” 

“Always working, sir.” 

Always. And his body knew it. Still, he had his team, new sneakers, good pain pills, and a cherry limeade on the way. 

It was fixin’ to be a good day.

Title: Cowboy Protection
Published by: Tygerseye Publishing, LLC
ASIN: B0BG3DZCHC