Bigger Than Us

October 31, 2021 by
Contributors: Jodi Payne, BA Tortuga
Series: Higher Elevation #4
Genre: , , , , ,
Release Date: November 23, 2021
Pages: 240

When Daniel McCaverty gets the call that his best friend and mentor up in Vermont has cancer, he expects to have plenty of time to go help. He never expects that Adam will be gone before he can get there, or that he will suddenly be in charge of Adam’s two small children. He’s a loner, an artist, and a wanderer. What’s he supposed to do now?

Mitchell Brown is a white-collar kind of guy. Organized. Careful. He has a plan in place for Adam’s kids long before Daniel arrives, and is shocked when Daniel is given custody. But for Vicky and Emory, he’s willing to put his hurt and confusion aside to help Daniel figure things out, to make the whole situation work.

Daniel and Mitch have to deal with a tidal wave of grief while getting one kid started in school, and keeping up with their work. But they’re going to have to figure out their unexpected attraction to each other if they’re going to build something together that’s bigger than either one of them alone.

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Chapter One 

 

“Jesus, Adam.” Daniel McCaverty had made it through the five a.m. flight from the Sunport, through Dallas and O’Hare. He’d made it through baggage here in Burlington and through the fucking line at Enterprise. He’d managed to drive about a mile before he looked around this place that was familiar but not, and had to pull over, sobbing against the steering wheel while the radio played. 

Daniel hadn’t understood when Adam had called last month and said, “Kiddo, I’ve got cancer”. He’d thought, oh, surgery and chemo and radiation. It would be tough with the kids, but he could come out after he’d delivered his last canvases. He would help for a few weeks and, one day, they would laugh together over how Adam’s thick black and silver hair had been gone during that terrible time. 

That was what was supposed to happen. 

Not a phone call early in the week that he’d missed because he was up on Angel Fire, and there was no signal. And then when he’d called back three days later, scared at Adam’s voice, Adam’s words, Adam’s goodbye, it was over. 

Fuck him. He hadn’t understood. 

Adam had told him not to worry. 

He never once thought Adam would actually die. 

After the storm had passed, Daniel pulled back onto the road, making the trip to Adam’s neat house. He’d helped Adam and Tina with adding a bathroom and another bedroom one summer. Another year, they’d put the deck on. He’d painted the nursery—first with Adam and Tina, then with Adam alone. 

Little Vicki would know him, but the baby? Shit, he’d been brand new before Daniel had left to work for a few months. 

“What the fuck happened, Adam? Seriously. Nobody dies from cancer anymore! It’s all about surviving. Don’t you fucking watch commercials?” His words echoed in the car, and he rocked with the intensity of them. 

He could almost hear Adam snort at him, saying “You can’t believe everything you see on TV, Dan-O.” 

Yeah. Yeah, like he even owned a TV. That was what he got for trying to be ironic. 

He pulled into the long driveway, the Escalade rumbling through the ruts. Someone needed to grade this before winter. 

The trees around Adam’s place were turning colors, some of them already orange and red like fire. That, he’d seen before, but Daniel hardly recognized the man sitting on the front steps. It had to be Mitch Brown underneath the beard and the baseball hat, but the last time he’d seen Adam’s business partner, Mitch had been clean-cut and in a sharp suit and tie. 

Damn. 

He probably looked like a wild man. He hadn’t bothered to change from his work clothes, and his jeans were spattered with paint. Daniel parked and opened the door of the SUV. “Mitch? Hey. I—Hey.” 

Mitch looked up and stood slowly. 

“Uncle Daniel!” Little Victoria dropped the hula hoop she’d been playing with and ran toward him full tilt. 

“Vicki. Baby girl. C’mere.” He opened his eyes, the sweet little black curls shining in the fading sun. “I missed your pretty face.” 

“You came! Daddy said he had to go, but that you would come, and you did!” She squeezed him tight, little five-year-old arms circling his neck. 

“Of course I came.” He should have come earlier. Sooner. Weeks ago. He blinked hard, fighting his tears. 

Mitch cleared his throat. “I guess you had a long trip. Would you like some coffee? Vicki, baby, why don’t you take Uncle Daniel to the porch?” 

“I started at three this morning. Coffee is great. I don’t—I’m sorry, man. Y’all had been friends a long time.” 

“Yeah. Um…yeah. Not as long as you. I know this—it was pretty shocking and…hard.” 

“Uncle Mitch fixed the porch swing.” Vicki pulled on his hand, tugging him toward the porch. “Emory is napping. He sleeps all the time. Babies do that, but it’s boring.” 

“They do, and it is. Do you still like those genie toys? I have a color book of them in my backpack.” 

“For me?” Vicki smiled at him like he’d hung the moon, as if she hadn’t just lost her father. Five had to be so complicated. 

“Yeah, for you. I’ll grab them in a second.” He’d brought a suit bag and his backpack. 

“Have a seat, I’ll get us some coffee.” Mitch disappeared into the house, leaving him there with Vicki. 

“Did you know my daddy died?” 

“Yes, ma’am. I just found out last night. I came straight away.” 

“He was really sick. He slept a lot, like Emory.” Vicki climbed up on the porch swing. “He missed you though. He told me so. I knew you’d come.” 

“He was my best friend, and you’re my god-girl. Of course, I came.” Jesus, Adam. Why didn’t you tell me how bad it was? 

She patted the swing next to him and leaned hard once he sat. “Good.” She sighed and flopped over, lying her head in his lap. 

She was asleep by the time Mitch came back with two mugs of coffee. “She’s been waiting for you. Adam’s—” Mitch bit his lips together and shook his head, handing him a mug before sitting in a rocking chair. “The promise was important to her.” 

“I came as soon as I knew. I had no idea it was so bad.” 

“Well, to be fair I don’t think he really believed it would be so fast.” Mitch’s voice was rough and dry. Anyone could see how tired he was. “I should have just called. He wanted to do it himself, but I should have. It’s just that I was here with the kids and helping him deal with his doctors and I… I’m sorry.” 

“I am too. I would have come to help. You have to know that. I would have come.” He wasn’t a shit. He loved Adam and these kids to death. 

“You know Adam. He was private, and he didn’t even like me helping. I think he wanted people to remember him healthy.” Mitch sipped his coffee and tugged his ball cap down lower. “This is…so fucked up.” 

“Yes. More than. Did he—is your business stuff okay?” He knew Mitch and Adam had run an advertising agency, but that was really all he knew about that. 

Mitch shook his head. “I don’t know. We have good people working for us, so I’m going to hope, but these last few weeks I haven’t… I checked out of work.” 

“I can only imagine.” He sort of wanted to give the guy a hug. More than that, he wanted to leave, find a hotel room and drink. He wouldn’t, because obviously Mitch had been working his ass off dealing with shit and needed a hand, but that didn’t alter his wanting. 

“I’m just going to try to look ahead now. The kids need that. I need to get them a new routine. It’s a couple of weeks late but I can still get Vicki into kindergarten, and I guess I’ll find a nanny for Emory. They need some stability. Then I can get my head back to work.” 

“Wow. Kindergarten? Already? She’s just so little…” Surely she wasn’t that old yet, right? 

“I know, but she turned five in July. I remember Adam saying at one point that he was going to sign her up but he…didn’t.” Mitch glanced at him under the brim of his hat. “So, how’s the…your art going?” 

“It’s good. I got my last show in on time.” He always felt weird talking about his paintings. He always had. It just felt strange. 

“So that’s going on now, without you there?” 

“Yes. My manager deals with the sales and the galleries. I just paint the canvases. I spend most of my time searching for the right environment to inspire.” It was an oversimplification, but it was still true. 

“Sounds nice. Where did you fly in from?” 

“Albuquerque. I was up on Angel Fire. I called as soon as I got signal. I didn’t know. I wouldn’t have—” He wouldn’t have missed saying goodbye. 

“I was with him when he called you. He said he knew you were busy doing what you loved. It made him smile. He didn’t—” Mitch cleared his throat, and when he spoke again his voice was even rougher than before. “He didn’t call anyone else. Just you. I’m sorry, I haven’t really processed any of this, I just—these kids are so important. I’m just a little tired.” 

“It’s okay. You can be—whatever you need to be. I’m serious. You can feel whatever you have to.” He didn’t know how else to do it. 

Mitch glanced up, blue eyes searching his. He wondered what they were looking for. “Thanks. I appreciate that. I do.” 

Daniel stroked Vicki’s hair. “You poor baby. You had to lose both your folks, didn’t you? Well, you got people that love you more than the world. Don’t you worry.” 

Adam had obviously intended for Mitch to take the kids, so he’d send money and stay as long as they needed. He wouldn’t let them hurt for anything. 

“It sucks. It just sucks. But they have me. You. Friends. They have people. I didn’t.” 

The baby started wailing somewhere inside the house. “Emory. He’ll be hungry.” Mitch hauled himself out of his chair. 

“Do you need help?” He wasn’t sure he could move. Hell, he didn’t want to go inside that house. 

“Yes. Stay right there with Victoria.” Mitch touched her cheek, then headed for the front door. “That’s the deepest sleep she’s had in days. I’ll bring Emory out once he’s fed.” 

“Okay.” He swung with her, singing for her, random songs that he knew. He spent a lot of time in life singing along with the radio. This much he could do. 

Title: Bigger Than Us
Published by: Tygerseye Publishing, LLC
ASIN: B09KWNL6P9
ISBN13: 978-1-951011-66-6

New Tricks

May 8, 2024 by
Contributors: Jodi Payne, BA Tortuga
Series: Les's Bar #4
Genre: , , , , ,
Release Date: May 21, 2024

Kit Swann is starting over when he moves himself and his miniatures business to New York. Living on his own in the city can be lonely, so he starts watching the local gay bar from the coffee shop across the street, and he finally decides to take a chance on it, working up the courage to go inside.

Elijah Russo has been looking for a full-time lifestyle partner for a long time. So long he’s ready to give up on finding someone who can be everything he needs. He thinks Kit might be the one, but he knows Kit is inexperienced with some of his specific requirements.

While they learn to love each other, they must also navigate Elijah’s insecurity, Kit’s big secret, and the trauma left by the accident that left Kit a widower. If they’re going to bring their very different lives together, they’ll have to teach each other some new tricks.

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Chapter 1

How many bars had Kit walked into? 

It had to be a hundred, maybe more. Shit, definitely more. 

Honky-tonks on the bull-riding circuit. Dive bars when Kit was hunting a cheap drunk. Gay bars to get laid, to dance. 

Speakeasies and upscale lounges which had master mixologists with Ron. 

That thought made him grin. Jesus, Ron had been addicted to fancy-assed spaces with cushy sofas and perfectly coiffed cocktail waiters. 

This place, though? Man, it was just a friendly neighborhood gay bar—masculine and relaxed right now, but he could see the lights and mirrors, and he knew it wasn’t always that way. 

It was a weeknight, so he wasn’t surprised to find the dance floor empty. The tiny little raised platform probably meant there was live music sometimes, or comedians or something. 

He caught a quick view of himself in the mirrors along the dance floor but didn’t look too hard. Mirrors were for watching and flirting, and he was just here for a drink. 

“Welcome!” A tall man behind the bar called out over the music and gave him a friendly wave. The place was lively but not crowded, with most people—men—sitting in booths talking and drinking. 

“Hey, there. How’s it going?” He just wanted a beer, or maybe a whiskey neat, he thought. Something he could sip and sit with. 

“Well. Very well.” The man’s dark eyes seemed to swallow up the light over the bar. “And yourself? Out wandering on this beautiful night?” 

“Yes, sir. I’m new to town, and I saw this place from the coffee shop across the way. Looked friendly.” And he was friendly, mostly. Except when he wasn’t, he guessed. “What’s y’all’s specialty?” 

“Tonight, good whiskey and local beer on tap. On the weekends, we tend more toward vodka drinks in colors that don’t appear in nature.” The bartender set a glass on the bar and poured out a Jameson’s whisky before pushing the glass in his direction. “Welcome to New York. That one’s on me.” 

“Well thank you, sir.” He held out one hand to shake after slipping a twenty in the tip jar. “Kit. Kit Swann.” 

“Lester Gray. Les, like the neon says.” Les winked at him, and his handshake was firm and confident. “Where did you move up from?” 

“Northeast Texas, originally, but my last home of record was Monterey, California.” Lord, the owner. How cool was that? “You got yourself a nice place here.” 

“Thank you. It’s home. But I’ve been to Monterey. It’s gorgeous. I can’t imagine leaving if I lived there.” 

“Yeah, it’s gorgeous. The ocean is amazing.” And he was never going back. Not so long as he lived. 

Les gave him a nod, and he appreciated that the man seemed to know when to stop asking questions. “New York can be beautiful too, especially in the spring. If you can handle the rain, May and June are blue skies and flowers in the park and sparkling views of the river. You’ll get to like it once you understand it.” 

“I’m loving it. It’s so different, and there’s so much to do and see. I’ve eaten at a different restaurant every night.” 

“That’s a great start. The food is as diverse as the city. Do you have a place? What do you do for work?” 

“I have an apartment right around the block. It’s lovely, and I’ve got enough room to have a workspace. I’m a woodworker, of sorts.” A teeny tiny one. 

“Oh, yeah? That’s interesting. Like a carpenter? They’re in demand for sure.” 

“Sort of. I make upscale miniatures for collectors, movie sets, photographers, that sort of thing.” He’d started it as a hobby while he was job hunting in California and had discovered a real knack for it. He especially enjoyed making replicas of ornate pieces. He could lose himself for hours. 

“That sounds very cool. It’s different. Movie sets, huh? Oh. Excuse me a second.” 

Les pulled his phone out of his pocket, looked at the screen, and took a couple of steps away. 

“Hello, boy. Oh? And Master Cyrus is okay with this plan? You have my permission, but I need you at the bar by noon tomorrow, Milo… I know… I love you too. Be good. Good night.” 

Do not stare. 

Don’t. 

Do not embarrass yourself or this nice man. 

He wanted to, though, because he’d seen… well, he’d studied a lot. Fiction. Nonfiction. Blogs. Everything he could get his hands on. 

He’d never actually met anyone into BDSM, and maybe he still hadn’t, but he wasn’t going to be rude, regardless. 

He was going to sip his whiskey and chill. 

“Sorry about that. Some calls I have to take. You doing okay on that whiskey?” 

Of course he hadn’t noticed the silver key around Les’s neck until just now. 

“Yes, sir, and no problem. I’m just sitting a spell.” And he didn’t have that particular type of call anymore. 

He had, though. He’d had some amazing calls with Ron. 

Les leaned on the bar. “So you saw my place from the coffee shop, hm? How long were you checking it out before you came in?” 

“A couple of days.” He’d wanted to see who came in and out, and he’d enjoyed telling himself stories while he’d people watched. “It was interesting to see all your clientele.” 

“I bet.” Les snorted. “We get quite a range. I’m pretty proud of that actually, that pretty much anyone can be comfortable here.” 

“It’s got a good energy. Y’all pretty busy on the weekend?” He’d probably not try that for a bit, but maybe. Maybe just to be in the midst of all the excitement. 

“Very busy.” Les smiled and looked around the place. “The dance floor is open, there’s a band or a DJ, and I usually staff three bartenders, a couple of bar-backs, and at least one busboy. And if there is any excuse for a party, I’ll find it.” 

“Wow!” Yeah, he’d be a once or twice on a weekday patron. “Good for you. I know it’s tough, running a place.” 

“It used to be when I was trying to get it off the ground. There were a lot of sleepless nights and long days. But I have a good crew now—loyal, hard-working—and I love all the weekend chaos. It’s just who I am.” 

“Go you! It’s a thing, right? Know thyself?” Kit used to know himself, but he had changed, on a cellular level, so he was still working that out. 

“To the extent that one can, yes. We all change and grow… I assume that’s what you’re trying to do, moving three thousand miles across the country.” 

He might as well be honest, right? He nodded and took a deep breath. “I lost my husband two years ago. I needed to figure out who I am now that I’m not his other half.” 

Les sighed. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to pry. I apologize.” 

“No. No, it’s okay. He wasn’t a secret. I’m sure I’ll mention him a lot.” He wasn’t ashamed of being a widower. He’d been well-loved. 

Les nodded. “I’m sure I’d love to hear about him.” 

“That’s the kindest thing anyone has said to me in a while.” Even if it wasn’t true, it was a lovely sentiment. 

“I’m a barman. I listen for a living; I like to hear stories and get to know people.” 

Kit chuckled and nodded to Les, tipping his glass. He didn’t even know where to start. “Ron was a software designer and brilliant. He was killed in a drive-by shooting near his office. He never even felt it. He was a great guy, and I loved him a lot.” 

“Damn. That’s a lot. I can’t imagine that happening to someone I love. My boy Milo? That would be devastating.” 

“It’s tough.” But he’d survived it. “So that’s why I left the West Coast. He was everywhere. Absolutely everywhere I looked.” 

Ron had hated the East Coast, so Kit was here. 

“I understand.” Something about Les made him believe that was true. “Can I offer you another splash?” 

“Just one, please. I have to find my way back home.” He winked at Les, then rolled his eyes dramatically. Like he was a lightweight. 

Les gave him a healthy pour in his glass. “Not to worry. I’m an expert at calling my guests an Uber. And I do hope you come back soon; I think you’ll find friends here, and I’m sure Ron would want that for you.” 

“He would. He would have loved this place. I’m glad to have met you, sir. Honestly.” He would be back. 

 

Title: New Tricks
Published by: Tygerseye Publishing, LLC
ASIN: B0D2WV6534

Thawed Out

December 9, 2024 by
Contributors: Jodi Payne, BA Tortuga
Series: Merry Everything Series #4
Genre: , , , , ,
Release Date: November 26, 2024

Thawed Out is an opposites attract, second chance romance featuring an established couple on the edge of divorce, a ferocious snow storm, precocious children and a healthy dose of holiday magic.

Kiren knows there is a storm coming when he goes to the cabin to deliver divorce papers to his husband Flynn, but he doesn’t plan to stay long. He hates that it’s come to this, but they just can’t seem to do anything without arguing anymore. When he finds Flynn looking so skinny and unhappy, he ends up staying to talk.

And maybe to try harder not to break up their family.

Flynn knows Kiren is just as tired as he is. They both work hard. They both take care of their two kids. He doesn’t want to give up, but between his long hours and going to school, he always seems to be in trouble when gets home.

Before they know it, they’re snowed in with nothing but time on their hands. The two of them decide that they don’t want to be frozen in the worst time of their married life. But can they work together to find the balance they need to start again?

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Chapter 1 

 

Kiren sat in his car at the bottom of the winding Cedar Road. He’d been idling for a bit, reading the road sign over and over and working up the nerve to keep going. He glanced at the envelope on the passenger seat again, then sighed and took the right-hand turn toward the cabin where he was meeting his husband. 

His soon to be ex-husband. 

It was hard to believe all their arguing and hurt feelings and drama had been reduced to just a few words on paper. The end of their marriage felt heavy as hell but didn’t look like much. 

He needed this over with. He was worn out. Emotionally, physically, just done. They needed to put this behind them and move on. 

The road was bumpy, tree-lined, and narrow in spots, but in others it was wide and cut through open pastures with amazing views. Usually. Today it was cloudy and really cold, and the visibility was very low. The bumpy road was covered in packed snow. It never got steep enough that he needed chains or anything, but he was glad for his all-wheel drive. 

He finally made it to the cabin and parked in the guest space where his parents parked when they visited. Flynn’s truck, which they usually drove up here as a family, was parked out front. 

He shut the engine off and took a breath, and then another. It wasn’t the papers that had him anxious; it was seeing Flynn. The wild, mixed emotions of the divorce had become so confusing that it actually made his stomach ache. 

Get in, get the signatures, get out. You’ve got this. Easy. 

He took one more breath, dragged the envelope off the passenger’s seat, then climbed out of the car. 

The front door opened, Flynn’s face ashen under his tan. He’d gotten damn near gaunt in the last year, and his flannel shirt and jeans drowned him. “Is everything all right with the kids?” 

He sighed. In Flynn’s defense—for all that Flynn didn’t need defending—cell service was spotty up here even in good weather. “They’re fine. I texted you.” He waved the envelope. “Papers.” 

“Jesus.” Flynn stared at him a second then turned to head back in the house. “I guess it’s fitting.” 

Fitting? What the fuck did that mean? 

He was going to be sorry he did this, wasn’t he? He should have just waited for Flynn to come back from hibernating in the mountains or whatever the fuck he was doing up here alone and let the lawyers handle everything. Hell, he could have just sent a courier up here. 

But no, the one thing Flynn was right about was that he could be a bit of control freak. He knew that much about himself. He needed this done, and the best way to make sure was to do it himself. 

He snorted as he climbed the steps. Maybe that was what Flynn meant by fitting. 

Touché. 

Fuck. 

He opened the screen door just after it slammed shut behind Flynn and went inside. 

Flynn headed straight for the kitchen and the coffee pot, pulling out a second mug before filling them. 

“Do you have a little cream?” Flynn hadn’t gone far. The kitchen was tiny and open to the living space. “I’m not staying long.” 

“I do. No? You’re going to have to wait for me to read everything, so you can drink a cup of coffee.” 

“Mhm.” And they didn’t have to talk while Flynn was reading. He took the mug from Flynn, trading it for the envelope and took a sip. Flynn made a good cup of coffee. “Take your time.” 

He wandered around with his mug, noting the tequila on the kitchen counter and the blanket and pillow on the couch. He stopped to look at the pictures hanging on the wall. A couple of them were family pictures from Flynn’s grandfather, but most of them were of just two of them, or of Jasper and Cassidy when they were tiny. 

Good memories. 

God, he hated this. 

Flynn’s grandfather had willed him this cottage, and Flynn adored it. 

It wasn’t much—one bedroom, a huge front room, a kitchenette, and a bathroom with a tub filled from the cistern and a composting toilet. The electricity was solar, so it was a little touch and go, and the heat was a pellet stove, but it was remote, the deck was to die for, and it was the quietest place he’d ever been. 

He’d always loved it here, but not today. Today it felt like hell on earth. There wasn’t enough air in the place. 

“I should—you want me to take a little walk?” 

Flynn’s eyebrow went up, lips tightening, and he could almost hear the snarling words that had to be zipping through the man’s head. “Whatever turns you on, babe.” 

Well, fuck, He’d thought Flynn would appreciate the space, but now? Now, he needed it. “Uh-huh.” He zipped his coat back up, picked up his coffee, and stomped out the back door into the cold. 

It was really cold. He pulled his hood up and zipped his coat even higher. It was pretty out here though; the woods were snowy and it was still and quiet. His coffee was going to get cold fast out here, so he took a big sip. 

The wind was beginning to blow, and the sun didn’t want to filter down through the trees, not even a bit. 

He thought about texting Mom or maybe Walt, just to get some sympathy, but he had no signal. Dammit. 

He tried to check the weather too, but no luck there either; the wheel just spun and spun and nothing ever loaded. No matter, he’d be leaving shortly, and if he really needed to know, there was a radio in the cabin somewhere. He’d go back in soon. He wasn’t sure he trusted Flynn not to leave him standing out here just for the amusement factor. 

He’d probably do the same. 

He stepped off the wide deck and walked along the path Flynn had shoveled like always. It went out into the woods a bit to a firepit and some log benches. It also went all the way around the cabin, which was great when the kids needed somewhere to run. 

By the time he got back his fingers were pretty well frozen, so he stomped the snow off his boots and stepped out of them as he came back inside. 

“Mm. Warm in here.” 

“Yeah. It’s chilly today. We have to talk about this. I’m not letting the kids go for half the summer.” 

But he had summers off. This kept them out of daycare for five weeks. “Wait. What? Why not? We definitely talked about this. I’m off in the summer.” 

“I’m not going without them for weeks at a time. I can’t, and I’m not going to give in on it.” 

He understood; he wouldn’t want to either, but it was practical. “Flynn, it just makes sense. It’s not ideal, okay, I know, but I can be home. It will save us money, and we can plan vacations. It’s only half the summer.” 

“Okay, then I want winter and spring break and all the school holidays.” 

Flynn was just being spiteful now. “Spring break, fine. The rest—you’re out of your mind. We’re trading off.” 

“So what? You get the babies for five weeks, and I get one in exchange?” Flynn shook his head. “How the fuck is that reasonable?” 

“Because you do shift work, and you need to find childcare in the summer, and I don’t. If we split the cost of summer care, we’re saving money. Or doesn’t money matter to you anymore?” Was it fair? Maybe not. But it was practical. 

“Oh fuck you! You think I’m busting my fucking ass to get my physician’s assistant’s license for fun? I started this so you could keep your fucking dream job with the students!” That was the most fire he’d seen from Flynn in a year. 

He used to love it when Flynn was passionate about something. But he lowered his tone because he couldn’t take the yelling anymore and went back to the coffee maker without looking at Flynn. “Wow. Pardon me. I thought this license was something you wanted. My dream job happens to be the job I have; I didn’t know I needed to apologize for that.” 

Flynn slapped one hand on the table, making the coffee cup jump and rattle. “Seriously? You’re going to be all… I left the circuit because we wanted kids. I worked nights at the ER because of the money. I started school so that I could keep the salary and work days. I’m fucking tired, man!” 

He jumped, startled enough by the sound that his heart was pounding, then turned and stared at Flynn, not bothering lower his voice this time. “Right. How could I forget that you’re the only one who has sacrificed for our children? You’re always reminding me! Meanwhile, I obviously have plenty of time, plenty of money, and am totally well rested! Lucky fucking me.” 

If he wasn’t driving he’d grab that bottle of tequila. 

“I know we took a hit on the money. It was for two motherfucking years. You couldn’t have my back for two years?” 

“I did have you back for two years, Flynn. Jesus Christ.” He sighed and turned back to the coffee maker. “Fine. We’ll share the summer. Just write in whatever you want, and I’ll have the lawyers fix it. I can’t… I just can’t do this. I can’t argue anymore.” He was exhausted too. Just completely out of spoons. “Whatever you want.” 

“I want my fucking life back!” The coffee cup went flying, smashing on the floor as Flynn stormed out, the entire cabin shaking. 

“Fuck.” Me too. 

He watched the coffee run across the floor and sighed. It would be a shame if it made it over to the little rug Flynn’s grandmother made. He looked found a broom and a towel to clean up, then threw all the pieces in the garbage. 

The divorce papers were still on the table, and he didn’t touch them. 

He lit a lantern, hating how dark it was, but it was the longest night of the year, so… 

The door opened up, Flynn’s arms filled with wood, his lips blue. 

“Jesus. Are you okay? Put that down.” Kiren grabbed the blanket off the back of the couch, helped Flynn put the wood in the holder, then sat him in a chair near the stove and wrapped the blanket around his shoulders. “I’ll get you more coffee. Your fucking lips are blue.” 

It was a testament to how cold Flynn was that he didn’t argue. He simply sat and shivered. 

He brought a hot mug of coffee back and put it in Flynn’s hands, not letting go in case Flynn had trouble holding onto it. “Sip slowly.” 

Flynn took a sip, and dammit, the tears that had frozen on Flynn’s eyelashes thawed, shimmering before they fell. 

He pretended he didn’t notice, but he definitely had, and it made his chest ache. Through all of this bullshit he’d never figured out where they’d lost each other and become something unfixable. They used to finish each other’s sentences, read each other’s thoughts. Now he was lucky when Flynn threw a mug because at least that was something he could understand. 

“Thanks for the drink.” Flynn’s voice was raw, rough as a cob. “Sorry for breaking the cup.” 

Like he cared about a coffee mug. “I’m sorry I sprung this on you. I did text, but I should have known better.” 

“I needed a break. I finished finals and needed somewhere the phone couldn’t find me.” 

“I get it. I shouldn’t have come. I’ll take off as soon as you thaw out.” He stood and peered out the window. He’d thought the darkness was due to the weather, but no, it was plain old night out there now. “Shit. It’s really dark. Well, I’ll be careful.” 

“What?” Flynn frowned and stood up. “No. No, you know those roads aren’t safe in the dark, especially not without a four-wheel drive.” 

He did know that; he and Flynn had learned that the hard way about six months before Jasper was born. It was sweet that Flynn seemed so worried about him doing something stupid. He sighed. “Yeah. Crap.” 

Flynn stared at him for a long minute, then breathed deep. “Are the kids expecting you home? Do I need to get the sat phone?” 

“I guess we should tell Mom I’m stuck for the night, yeah.” That was going to open another can of worms, but she was going to have questions either way. 

“No reason to worry everyone. Jasper worries.” 

Yeah, their six-year-old was absolutely anxiety boy, worrying about everything. 

“I know. Sorry about this. It’s obviously not the downtime you were looking for.” 

Flynn waved his words away. “It’s fine. You need to be safe. Tomorrow you can run down the mountain and all.” 

He nodded. “I can take the couch.” He’d head out in the morning and do what he should have done in the first place—let the lawyers handle this shit. 

“I’ve been sleeping there, if you want the bed. I can’t—I haven’t been sleeping in the bedroom.” 

That was how he felt about the house, especially when the kids weren’t there. “Sure. Okay.” He assumed the stuff he’d left in the closet and the dresser were still here. He probably even had a toothbrush. 

“There’s soup if you want it. Bread.” Flynn stood up, wandering over to where their—the—satellite phone was plugged in. “Call your mom. I’m going to warm this place up.” 

“Thanks.” He took the phone from Flynn, ignoring the tingle where their fingers touched, and made the call. He had enough juice in his phone to read a book for a while so, when he was done, he’d just tuck himself in and leave Flynn alone for the evening. 

He dialed and waited for the call to connect. 

Title: Thawed Out
Published by: Tygerseye Publishing, LLC
ASIN: B0DL3X7WWM

The Soldier and the Angel

June 10, 2020 by
Contributors: Jodi Payne and BA Tortuga
Series: The Cowboy and the Dom Series #4
Genre: , , , ,
Release Date: June 23, 2020
Pages: 342

In this stand-alone companion story to The Cowboy and the Dom Series, Sam’s only remaining brother, Army Ranger and EOD Specialist, Jim Bowie O’Reilly, suffers an injury in the line of duty, and is sent home to the family ranch in Texas to recuperate.

But sometimes you can’t go home again.

Thomas and Sam welcome Bowie for a visit in New York, but their D/s lifestyle doesn’t easily lend itself to long-term house guests. Enter Thomas’s trusted friend, EMT and former combat medic Gabriel “Angel” Rogers. The two men met once before when Bowie visited Sam for his birthday, and it doesn’t take the men long to admit they had an instant attraction. They soon discover their desires overlap as well and they set each other on fire.

But two big men need space and, as neither is in love with the city, Bowie invites Angel back to Texas to vacation in one of the run-down beach houses he’s flipped. On the eve of their departure though, Angel’s coworker and friend is gravely injured in an accident leaving his ambulance crew shorthanded, and Angel stays behind to help his team get back on their feet.

The distance might be more than either man can handle. With a whole country between them, they manage to derail something that had been going so well and it takes a risky intervention to stop them from ruining the best thing they’ve ever had.

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CHAPTER ONE

Gabriel never had a bad day.

He had some weird days, days that wiped him out, days he saved a horrible person or couldn’t save a good one, a day here and there that he’d like not to repeat, thankyouverymuch—but never a bad one. Nope. There wasn’t any such thing as a bad day if you made it home from Afghanistan.

Today had been like a nine out of ten though, man. They’d had winners on the bus: babies on the way, kids that were more scared than hurt, a little old lady with a busted hip that said she was a princess, a homeless guy named Augustus that could recite Shakespeare backward and was going to get a bed and three squares for a night or two. He’d take more todays if he had a say.

He fought his way through the crowd at Mike’s, just trying to get to the bar because, goddammit, he was going to toast this day with a beer. The biker bar was always a madhouse on Saturday nights, but as the weather got warmer even more fools came out, and tonight he wasn’t sure there was enough room for him anywhere.

Fortunately, his six-foot-four frame made him easy to spot.

“Angel!” Darla shouted to get his attention.

He waved to the bartender, and she pointed at a bottle of beer crowd-surfing its way over to him. He grinned and blew her a kiss, grateful for friends who always had his back.

She waved back at him, all smiles and boobs. Lord, that woman could work her butt off.

He grabbed the beer, giving the guy who handed it over a high five, before taking a deep swig. Oh, hoppy goodness. Hell, yes. All he needed now were his two favorite people on earth. He pulled out his phone, texting Sammy and Tommy. One of them would answer. Mikes or club?

Mike’s. I’m half into a grenache already. Where are you?

Into a what? He swore sometimes Tommy just said shit to confuse him. Tell me ur not in this swarm

Lounge

Thank fuck. Omw

He finished his beer before he stomped down the stairs and, with thick fingers, punched in the code for Mike’s little private lounge. It was a sweet setup—couches and a few tables, quiet and peaceful, a place where men and women of their persuasion could chill out.

He closed the door behind him, and all the noise stopped. “Ah. Better.”

“That was quick.” Tommy was his usual vision all in leather, sitting in a deep chair, his boy curled against one leg. “I guess angels really can fly.”

“Ha!” He laughed, the sound echoing off the ceiling tile and making him wince. Shit. Inside voice. “You look comfy.”

Little Sammy smiled up at him, the look warm and happy. Someone was in a fine mood—new haircut, old jeans, loose button-down that was two sizes too big. In a fine mood and had been busy too.

His fingers twitched. He wanted a hug. Sammy gave the best hugs. Then—talking about friends that always had your back—Tommy leaned over and whispered to Sammy, and the boy slowly got to his feet.

“Angel.” Sammy launched into his arms, hugging him tight. He grabbed the boy by his hips, because if Sammy was moving that slow, his back was probably well-striped. He wanted to see. Tommy did the best work, and Sammy was built like a tiny brick shithouse.

How about that? An ancient princess, a beer, a hug from Sammy, and everything was right in his stupid little world. Right on. “Hey, Sammy. You feeling good?”

“So good.” Sammy looked up at him, and there was zero question his friend was on cloud nine. “You need anything? Water?”

“Yeah, water would be great. You wanna show off your stripes?”

Tommy jumped in. “Only if you want to, sweetheart.”

“Oh. Yeah. Only if you want to.” Please let Sammy want to. Thank you. Amen.

Sammy blushed but nodded to him. It was still so new for Little Sammy, but he was blooming, working and happy, and making Tommy more relaxed in his own skin than Gabe had ever seen.

Sammy got him a bottle of water along with one for Tommy. Then Sam carefully removed the loose, soft shirt, turning so Gabe could see Tommy’s work.

Oh, yeah. Tommy was so good with a flogger. The boy’s skin was flushed red, and the lines from the flogger’s falls were consistently deep and evenly laid out. It was Tommy’s favorite instrument, and it totally showed. “Looks like someone was a good boy.” He smiled. “Very pretty, Tommy.”

Tommy gave him a nod. “My boy’s inspirational, as you might imagine.”

“Looking good, Sammy.” Really good. He patted a spot on the boy’s arm, well away from any marks.

“Thank you.” Sammy returned to Tommy, leaning hard against Tommy’s leather-clad legs. Tommy rested one hand on Sammy’s nape, the act possessive, the “mine” clear to anyone who looked.

Tommy and Sammy met after Sammy’s brother, James—Tommy’s sub and lover—was murdered by a jealous bartender who worked at Tommy’s BDSM club. They’d come a damn long way since that day. Sammy had seemed little more than a hotheaded cowboy then, and Tommy had always spent his time deep in the tradition and formality of the lifestyle. Apart from their shared grief over James, it seemed like the two had little in common.

Gabe would have bet money it wouldn’t work out, and he was happy to be wrong. Mostly. He’d take Little Sammy off Tommy’s hands in a heartbeat.

Heh. Who was he kidding? He loved them together. And he’d found a real friend in Sammy.

“Sit, craning my neck is uncomfortable.” Tommy laughed and pointed to a chair nearby.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” He plopped down and sprawled, nodding to a married couple and their boy held between them while they played a game of cards.

“So how’s things? Work good?” He asked about work because it was polite and all, and work was important to Tommy, but he was always in over his head once Tommy—and Sammy too, for that matter—started talking. He tended to hear art and money and research and donor and blahblahblah and he tried, but after a while he’d kind of tune out.

“…reception for the photography exhibit, and I’m trying to find a list of donors that would be willing to…”

Whoa. Yeah. He’d ask about football next.

Sammy grinned at him, eyes twinkling and wicked, like he knew.

“That’s about it I guess. You?”

“Same old, same old with me. It was good day today, though. Met a guy who could recite Hamlet backward.” He hadn’t read it since…a long-ass time ago, but it sounded like Hamlet.

Tommy laughed. “That’s a talent.”

“He was funny. Sick, though. Bad flu, I think.” He’d had better stories as a field medic, but he liked being an EMT. He was good at it, he met tons of people, and no one was shooting at him.

“I don’t know how you don’t catch every bug in the city.”

“Masks, gloves, don’t touch your eyes.” He grinned. “I did in the beginning actually, but I’m pretty sturdy. Aaron’s still getting sick every other week, but he’s a baby.”

“You’re just old.” Sammy was a turd. Adorable, but a turd.

“Didn’t you bring something to hit him with, Tommy? You know, nipple clamps are great for occasions like this too.”

“Actually, I like it when he says that. It makes me feel younger.”

Gabe snorted. “If the pair of you got any younger, you’d be in diapers.”

“Hey, I’m over thirty.” Tommy pretended to be offended. Or he thought that was pretending.

“Yeah, by the seat of your Pampers.”

Tommy’s jaw dropped, he made a little tick mark in the air, and they all started laughing. Sammy most of all.

Tommy sipped the water Sammy brought him and caught his eye. “So, have you heard about Clint’s new bartender yet?”

“He already hired someone?” He was still working up to going back to the club. He would. He probably could now that things were settling down.

“It’s a bar, Angel. How long did you think he’d be able to go without?” Tommy picked up the buzzing cell phone on the arm of the chair and looked at it. “Stephanie is calling me.”

Nothing like a call from your mother-in-law while hanging out at Mike’s.

Sam lifted his head, that frown immediate. “Answer. What if it’s Daddy?”

He caught the look between them, and Tommy answered. “Hello, Steph—yes, he’s right here, is everything all right?…Oh…bad?…Oh…of course, Momma, hold on.” Tommy held the phone out to Sammy, looking very much like he’d gotten bad news. “Sam.”

“Is it Daddy?” Sam reached up and took the phone.

Tommy shook his head no. “Talk to your mother.”

After James was murdered, Sammy’s dad had a stroke. But Gabe thought the man was recovering well. If it wasn’t Sammy’s dad, then it had to be…shit. Sammy’s big brother, Bowie, the Ranger, was deployed overseas. Fuck. He leaned forward in his seat, watching Sammy closely.

“Hey, Momma. What’s…oh. Oh, damn. How bad?…Okay. Germany. Right. Well, let me talk to Thomas, and I’ll call you back. Love you.…Yeah, yeah. I love you. Bye.” Sam hung up and shook his head. “It finally happened. Bowie lost to a bomb.”

Gabe sighed. Lost to a bomb. Bowie was a specialist. That could be some ugly shit. “How bad?”

Tommy slid off the chair to the floor beside Sammy. “What can we do?”

“He was lucky. He knew it was going bad. He was running. He’s got some damage to his left leg. They think they can save it.” Sam grabbed Thomas’s hand. “He’s in a hospital in Germany. How do you feel about going over to see him?”

“I’ll do anything you want, sweetheart. You tell me where and when, and I’ll get the tickets.” The look that passed between them was so intense; Tommy just took it on for Sammy without any thought at all.

It was hard not to be envious of that. Not of them, but of that look. That kind of connection. He cleared his throat and stood up. “I’ll get you guys a car, sneak you out the back. It’s a zoo up there.”

“Thank you, Gabe.” Tommy nodded to him. “Can you water the plants? We’ll text you when we know when we’re leaving.”

That request was not in any way, shape, or form meant to rub salt in a wound, but fuck if it didn’t anyway. What was wrong with him?

“Of course, man. Whatever you guys need, you know that. Hang here, I’ll text you when your car is outside.”

Tommy was getting Sammy up, putting that shirt back on the boy. “I’m real sorry, Sammy. You tell him thank you for me.” He gave Sammy’s shoulder a squeeze.

“He’ll be fine. I swear. I know he will.” Sammy sighed. “I guess this means he’ll be going home.”

For a lifer like Bowie, that might be harder to deal with than whatever happened with the leg. “He’s a tough nut. I’ve got faith.” That was about all Gabe was going to say. In his experience, the words “bomb” and “fine” didn’t cross paths that often. He headed upstairs to get some air and call an Uber.

 

Title: The Soldier and the Angel
Published by: Tygerseye Publishing, LLC
ASIN: B089R7DYSW
ISBN13: 978-1-951011-31-4

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Outfoxed

March 26, 2025 by
Contributors: Jodi Payne, BA Tortuga
Series: On the Ranch Series #4
Genre: , , , , , , ,
Release Date: April 22, 2025
Pages: 224

Outfoxed is an opposites attract, hurt/comfort, found family romance featuring an injured bull rider at the end of his career and a widower single dad derailed by a mental health crisis.

Bull rider Trent James might be a little broken. He’s a cowboy recovering from a terrible wreck, going through the grind of surgeries and physical therapy and trying not to have a meltdown. Thank goodness for his friends and neighbors Rope and Jude, who keep him up and moving and getting better.

Callum Fox is broken for a totally different reason. When he heads to Texas to visit his friends, he’s looking to get away from too many hours as a CEO and too many memories of his late husband. He wants to spend more time with his daughter, and he needs to figure out what he's going to do with the rest of his life.

The two of them come together and find kindred spirits in each other. But sometimes it’s tough to glue the broken parts back together, and they have to find out where they fit and what they can do to support each other, even when the storm gets bad. Can Fox and Trent make a life together, or will they be unable to mend their shattered pieces?

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Chapter 1 

“Trent, buddy. You gotta get your shit together. You gotta wake up, because you’re worrying folks.” 

Trent tilted his head, or he tried to. Okay, that hurt. Let’s not do that again. All right? 

All right, he told himself. What was the very last thing he remembered? 

He was in… somewhere. Nashville? He thought it was Nashville. 

Maybe New Orleans? Could be New Haven. Somewhere with an N. 

Surely not New Mexico? Hmm. 

No, it was definitely Nashville. The sidewalks singing—he remembered that. 

Okay, good. And then after that? 

He took a deep breath. Oh, yeah, that hurt too. 

So, he must have been riding. Hurting like this meant a wreck. 

He couldn’t smell dirt, so that was probably good. 

Of course, if he couldn’t smell dirt, he didn’t know where he was, and he had to wake up? 

That meant he was either in the hospital or in an ambulance. Both of those were bad. 

Didn’t sound like an ambulance. Didn’t feel like one either. They tended to be tight and loud and jostly, and someone was always bugging you. 

“I’m serious, Trent. You wake your happy ass up. I will kick your butt.” 

Okay, that voice—he knew that was Rope. His best buddy. His traveling partner. His neighbor. If Rope was here, it was serious. 

He licked his lips, wondering if he should ask for a drink or what the hell had happened to him first. 

“Thirsty,” was the word he croaked out. 

Well. That was fair. His body decided what it wanted to do, and fuck his curious brain. 

“Yeah? How about some ice chips? They don’t want you puking.” 

“Surgery?” he asked, because that was the answer to no puking. 

“You know it, buddy. You got yourself all tore up. Shoulder. Collarbone. Your right arm. Got some good bruises too. But they pretty much had to put that whole right side back together. It’s gross. Silas will be over the moon to see.” 

“Ice chips.” 

So, the shoulder blade and the collarbone break explained why it hurt to nod. At least his mouth wasn’t wired shut. That always sucked. 

“Did I win any money?” 

A sliver of ice slid over his lips, and he moaned. Oh, that felt so good. So damn good. 

“No, sir. Not a dime. Gonna make some money off talking about this wreck, if you’re lucky.” 

He should have retired last year. 

“Home.” If Trent was broke, he needed to be home. 

“Day after tomorrow. I rented a van. We’ll just drive it.” 

“Jude?” 

Rope snorted. “We got a baby coming, man. Any day. He’s at home. Just in case.” 

“The boy?” 

“I am not bringing my son out here to drive. He’s not old enough to help with that part. No, he is in school. You gotta focus, man. It’s April. He’s in school.” 

“Right. Sorry.” He wasn’t going to say that he didn’t need Rope to drive him home, or that he was going to manage it by himself or any of that shit because they knew each other well enough to know better. He’d driven Rope more places than he cared to admit, and his buddy had done the same for him. That was what traveling partners were for. 

Not that Rope was riding. Rope was retired. Rope had been retired for something like… two years, right? 

They hadn’t gone backward in time, surely. 

No. Rope said there was a baby coming, and they’d just done that, seemed like. Back last summer? Maybe they started back in the spring, after talking to every damn human being in Texas about having a baby. 

The simple fact was that Rope was still retired. 

“Man. I’m here for the sponsors. I was doing a signing and introducing that new bull.” 

This was why a man had a riding partner. 

Because they knew each other, and they didn’t have to ask stupid questions. 

Rope would just give him stupid answers. That was how it ought to be. 

“Did we go in on yaks together?” 

Rope cracked up, the laughter covering up the constant beeping. “You fucking know we did. You know how much yak butter sells for? You know how funny it is to watch cowboys try to milk a yak?” 

“Want to go home.” 

“I know. When you get the tubes out of your arms and out of your dick, we’re on it. We’ll just drive home, and get you settled.” 

“Swear to God?” 

“I swear by all I hold holy, man, and I got a lot of that.” Rope chuckled and leaned down, kissed his forehead like he was a little boy. “It’s time to hang your bull rope up, man, and come home. We’ll raise yaks and horses and cows and be happy.” 

Rope was right. He hated to admit it, but he might have done ridden his last ride. 

Maybe it was time to become an old cowboy with the ranch.

Title: Outfoxed
Published by: Tygerseye Publishing, LLC
ASIN: B0F2JNV1Y4
ISBN13: 978-1-963644-11-1

Safe Words: A Deviations Novel

April 11, 2017 by
Contributors: Jodi Payne and Chris Owen
Series: Deviations #5
Genre: , , , ,
Release Date: December 30, 2019 (Third Edition)
Pages: 294

NOTE: The following blurb contains spoilers for the Deviations series. If that matters to you, stop here and read the series first, beginning with Deviations: Submission.

Safe Words picks up where the Deviations series left off. Tobias, Noah and Phan are all working on finding their place, both at Bradford's club and in their personal lives. They're all living together too, and Tobias has taken on the role of full-time Dom to both men, which he loves but finds incredibly challenging.

While Noah finds comfort in their new arrangement and is looking forward to deeper submission, Phan has a harder time finding balance and peace. There are many changes happening too fast and making Phan act out, and neither Tobias nor Noah are sure how to deal with it.
Life is not perfect for Bradford, either, as he finally confronts his feelings for his sub, Nikki. How will Tobias help his closest friend, manage his job training other Doms at the club, and juggle his relationship with Noah and Phan without allowing the house that he's built for himself fall down around their ears?

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EXCERPT FROM SAFE WORDS: A DEVIATIONS NOVEL

Tobias leaned in the doorway, one shoulder against the jamb and his arms folded over his chest, watching silently. He was wearing riding clothes, intending to go for a ride on his horse, but he hadn't yet made it down the stairs to the lower level of the farmhouse.

Instead, while dressing, he'd heard the clink of free weights coming from the newly created workout room, and, a little too like Pavlov's dog for comfort, he'd gone there instead.

Tobias had a weakness for watching Noah exercise. Noah had kept himself in insanely good shape after leaving the police force, maybe even better than he had done while working for the law. He tended to do a lot of work without his shirt on since his change of employment, and while he wasn't ripped and cut, he was certainly firm and tight. Tobias rarely missed a chance to look his fill.

"You're in here early," Tobias said, watching Noah's arms curl so his biceps flexed.

Noah glanced up at Tobias briefly, then back at his biceps. "Nine, ten," he counted out loud. "Good morning. Thirteen..." He grunted his way through fourteen and fifteen, his teeth clenched and his brow furrowed.

Tobias found he had more than a passing appreciation for Noah's intensity, and he smiled to himself as he felt desire lick up his spine. It never failed -- Noah and weights, that was all it took. Well, Noah and just about anything, but the weights were a sure thing.

"I can't sleep alone," Noah explained, still panting. "In that great big bed." He gave Tobias a suggestive wink as he set the dumbbells back in their rack. "Plus, I'm heading into town today." He patted his face with a towel and smiled mischievously.

"I know." Tobias tried not to sigh. Usually, he had no issue at all with Noah having a day off from his duties as Tobias' submissive. Usually, Noah wasn't all sweaty and glossy from working out on his day off. "Do you and Phan have plans?"

Phantom, Tobias could hear, was in the kitchen making breakfast. It was his day off as well, but Phan didn't seem to think that Tobias was capable of making his own breakfast. Though why toast needed the noisy rattle of a frying pan on a gas range, Tobias didn't know.

"We do." Noah approached Tobias slowly. "Breakfast," he said, just as something clattered in the kitchen, "which you've no doubt noticed, and then shopping and a downtown, greasy dinner. This would be why I need the extra workout." He leaned close and kissed Tobias lightly on the lips. "Are you going to miss us?"

"I always miss you. Well, usually. There are times I'd happily send Phan to town just so he'd stop pinging around the house and making it hard for me to get paperwork done." Tobias slipped his arms around Noah and kissed him again. "But I suppose he does have a valid point that I'm supposed to do that sort of thing in my office and not here."

"Well, you did insist that Bradford give you that swanky office at the club and a very sturdy desk to keep all that paperwork organized. I have to admit I don't think of the farm as work, either. I tend to leave that mentality at the club. But I'm just a sub; who am I to tell my Master where to do his work, right?"

Tobias snorted. "You do it all the time."

Noah grinned. "But I pay the price."

"One of these days, I'll stop letting you get whatever you want." Tobias barely kept himself from laughing. Noah teased, but he was never actually bad; if there was something to discuss, they handled things far better that way than with mental tug of war. They both liked the teasing, however, and Tobias would have been bored with compliant and malleable submissives.

Even if having two of them was a bit of a handful at times.

Title: Safe Words: A Deviations Novel
Published by: Tygerseye Publishing, LLC
ASIN: B083B6TWBN
ISBN13: 978-1-951011-25-3

 

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Home Free

August 23, 2023 by
Contributors: Jodi Payne, BA Tortuga
Series: Higher Elevation #5
Genre: , , , ,
Release Date: July 18, 2023
Pages: 234

Connor Westin and Early Jericho have a comfortable, busy life in Denver. Connor is a lawyer who brings home the bacon and Early is a stay at home dad to their two young boys.

Sure, Early is a cowboy at heart, but he loves their kids and as far as Connor is concerned they’re happy in their suburban home.

When Early inherits a ranch on the Western Slope of Colorado, neither is sure what they should do about it. That is until they visit, and Connor sees just how much it all means to his husband.

Both men agree to uproot their family and take a shot at running the ranch together, but it takes time to shut down one life and start another. Early takes the boys to the ranch while Connor spends the summer in Denver to handle all the details of moving on.

Between the long distance, the new responsibilities, and interference from a not so well meaning employee, Connor and Early have trouble staying connected. Will the ranch become the home they need it to be, or will it tear their family apart?

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Chapter 1 

Connor Westin parked his BMW in the garage and climbed out, his phone switching from Bluetooth to speaker automatically. “Agree to fixing the window and the lock on the back door, but the kitchen appliances are as-is, and we’re not painting anything. That’s ridiculous.” 

“You want me to say it’s ridiculous?” 

Connor reminded himself that although Kit was a great paralegal, he was young. “That would be fun, wouldn’t it?” 

“So, no. Got it.” Kit was also way too serious. 

“Thank you. I’m around if they come back with anything tonight. Gotta run.” He hung up, dropped his phone in his pocket, and went into the house. “Smells good in here.” He made his way to the kitchen, where he knew his handsome husband would be cooking dinner for their family. 

“Chicken parm. Your sons had a request.” Early wore a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, button-down shirt draped over one of the dining room chairs. Pretty-pretty. “How goes it?” 

“Good, another day another house sale. And there’s some easement dispute downtown that I’m supposed to be talking to someone about tomorrow.” He slid a hand around Early’s waist, fingers spreading out across killer abs and kissed his nape. “My sons? What did they do now?” 

“Which one?” Early shot him a quick, easy grin. “Jaxson climbed behind the bleachers and found a mouse, which he proceeded to keep in his lunch box until he got ready to come home, and he showed it to Jenny Franklin. It’s now living in a cage in his room, his lunch box has been bleached, and I made him apologize to the teacher and Jenny. And Jayden…” 

Oh god. 

“He apparently climbed into the ceiling of the school using the pipes in the boys’ bathroom. Did you know he’s allergic to fiberglass? He is. He looks vaguely like he’s been boiled. I’m calling him Lobster Boy. He isn’t amused.” 

Oh, the poor kid. That had to itch. “Good. Great. They’re both still alive and taking after you.” Truth be told, Jayden was more like him in this case, but he wasn’t going to admit it. 

“Dad! I got a mouse. You wanna see?” 

“Has it had its shots?” 

“What?” 

He glanced at Early. “We’re keeping the mouse?” 

“You going to poison it?” Early shrugged, altogether too unconcerned about a possible disease-ridden rodent in their house. 

“Daddy! His name is Dennis. You can’t kill it if it has a name.” 

Connor sighed. “I didn’t mean we should kill it. Geez. But maybe Mrs. Mouse misses him?” It was worth a shot. 

“He’s not married. He’s a DJ, and he’s going to be all about the bass.” Save him from smartass sons. 

“DJ Dennis Mouse?” He ruffled Jaxson’s hair. “Fine. But he’s going to the vet.” 

“Okay! Wanna meet him?” 

Early shook his head. “After supper. Y’all have fifteen minutes. Go wash and tell Lobster Boy to get his butt down here.” 

Jaxson bounced up and ran for the stairs. “Lostber Boy! Daddy says get your butt butt butt down here!” 

“Stop calling me that!” Jayden came slumping down the stairs and shuffled into the kitchen. “Hi, Dad,” he said opening the fridge door and hiding behind it. 

“Hey, kid. So, what was the endgame here? After you made it into the ceiling?” 

“Endgame?” 

“What were you trying to do?” 

Jayden closed the fridge door and looked at him, clearly confused. He was definitely red and swollen. “I don’t know. I just did it.” 

“We’re raising monkeys.” Connor shook his head. “Set the table, boys.” 

Early just went about his business like nothing was out of the ordinary and, really, nothing was. This was par for the course. “So that was my day.” 

“Just another day in paradise. Did he get some Benadryl?” 

“Benadryl, oatmeal bath, cortisone cream—he got the whole enchilada.” Early rolled his eyes and started moving food to the table. 

“You’re a good dad.” Connor gave Early one more quick hug, then hung up his coat so he could help. “What can I do?” 

“Salad. Green beans. Something healthy that we have to force our children to eat.” 

“There’s leftover broccoli.” There was always leftover broccoli because their kids were not good eaters. He opened up the fridge, grabbed the bowl, and stuck in the microwave. 

Early seemed…tired, maybe? Something felt a little dull, a little off. Not enough to worry about, he supposed. It was the end of another incredibly busy day with two active boys. He hoped the kids hadn’t brought a bug home; it was so close to the end of the school year. 

He grabbed the bowl and carried it carefully into the dining room, setting down right in front of Jaxson. “It’s hot guys, careful.” 

“Yay. Limp trees.” 

Early’s growl was immediate. “You watch it, or I’ll serve nothing but brussels sprouts for a week.” 

Oh, god. Not that. Not again. 

Never again. 

He reached over and put two florets on each of the kids’ plates. “No arguments.” Then he took some for himself because he actually liked broccoli. “Chicken parm was a good call, though.” He served them each some of that too, and himself before handing Early the plate. “Looks as good as it smells, honey.” 

“Thanks.” Early chuckled and shook his head. “So, we’ve survived another school day. Go team Jericho.” 

“Oh they’re yours again now, huh? Why? Because I didn’t lose my mind over the mouse?” Connor grinned at Early, teasing. 

“He’s a nice mouse, Dad!” 

He rolled his eyes. “Eat. Jayden, tell me about the math test.” 

Jayden gave him a deadpan look. “You mean the one that I aced?” 

He laughed. “I guess that’s the one. Nice work.” 

“I got done early, that’s when I—” 

“I don’t really need the details unless the principal calls me.” 

Jayden arched one eyebrow, somehow looking just like Early. “Principal Shields always calls Daddy. She thinks he’s hot. She calls him ‘Mister Early’ and puts her hand on his arm.” 

He mimicked that look, giving it to Early instead. “He is hot, but he’s mine.” And Principal Shields probably didn’t want to talk to him anyway, he’d been deemed “less reasonable” a few years back. 

“Dad! Ew! That’s nasty!” Jaxson gagged dramatically, slumping against his brother, sending his fork flying, red sauce spraying across the floor. 

“Jax! Ugh.” He sighed and got up, going for a damp towel. And another fork. “I know we taught you table manners at some point. Daddy insists on it.” He brought the towel back and handed it to Jaxson, then traded a clean fork for the one that landed on the floor. “Clean up the floor, please. Jayden, you keep eating.” 

Jayden shoved an entire stalk of broccoli in his mouth, chewing dramatically. 

“Did you want a beer, babe? I need a beer. There’s an open red wine in there too.” 

“I’ll have the red. Thank you. Jax, that’s good enough. Hand that to Daddy and finish your dinner.” God, he was ready to broil them both. 

Early headed back to the kitchen, turning on the music on his way. Ah, the boys were getting their next warning sign that Daddy was about to stroke out. 

“Both of you finish up. Jax? Broccoli. Now. And then upstairs for reading.” 

“Reading?” Jaxson started to whine, but his big brother gave him the elbow. “Okay. Reading.” 

“Thank you. Don’t forget to tell your daddy thank you for the dinner, please? He made you chicken parm.” 

“Yes, sir. It was really good.” 

Connor watched as Early set down his wine. “Thanks, honey.” 

“Thankyoufordinnerdaddymaywepleasebe…” Jaxson took a deep breath. “’Scused?” 

“It was so good, Daddy. Thank you.” 

“You’re very welcome, sons. Please wash your hands after feeding/handling/touching the mouse in any way and before your reading.” Early sat with his beer, waiting for the boys to leave. “I bet that mouse escapes and infests the house.” 

“I won’t say I told you so.” They’d had mice before; it was a thing. They’d just go to battle stations. “DEFCON 1.” He looked his husband over critically. “Thank you for the wine. Something’s wrong. What is it?” This was the part where the cowboy in Early won out first, and Early would say “I’m fine”, until they were done with dishes or headed to bed and then he might sigh and fess up. 

If it was really awful Early would find an excuse to go hide in the garage for a few minutes and then they’d talk. 

“I’m fine. I—” Early twisted the top of his bottle. “It’s just some bad news from my dad.” 

And then there was this scenario. “Oh, honey.” He got up from his chair and pulled one closer to Early. “Not your Momma?” Please not his mother; she was the queen of amazing women. 

“Fuck no. She’s going to outlive us all. Uncle Rick. It won’t be long now.” 

Early’s Uncle Rick was one of Early’s biggest supporters, a good, amazing man who had rapid-onset Alzheimer’s. The last time they’d gone out for Easter, Rick had been violent, terrified, and restrained. 

“You need to go. Why are you sitting here? When did you find out? Let’s get you on a plane.” He pulled out his phone. 

“No. He’s not there. Pop says he’s not there at all. He had a stroke this morning, and they’re just waiting for the end. Me being there won’t help. I’ll go afterward, when I can be useful.” 

“You’re sure? I’m so sorry. You should have told me. I could have at least come home early, dealt with this lunacy.” He leaned closer and kissed Early’s cheek, then took a hand in his. “I know, it’s not worth hashing out. I’m here now, though.” 

“Thanks, babe. I love you. I’m just tired.” 

Ha hated this for Early. Early was close with his parents, but Rick had been the first one in Early’s corner, the first person Early really trusted with difficult things like how to manage being gay on a ranch. 

“Go take a shower, put on comfy PJ’s, and go to bed. I got the dishes. I didn’t bring home any work tonight, so I’ll join you as soon as I get the hooligans in bed.” Early liked a back rub, and he had magic fingers. It was a gift. 

“I’ll deal with the dishes, babe. You handle Thing One and Thing Two.” Early sighed and shook his head. “Lord have mercy, I hate this for him.” 

God, the man was impossible to pamper, even when he needed it. He ran a soothing hand over Early’s shoulder and stood. “Rick was loved. If he can manage to remember anything, he’ll remember that. Doesn’t matter by who.” 

“I’ll shoot myself first, before I let myself get there. I won’t make you watch me become a…whatever Rick is now.” Early’s expression was pure horror, pure pain. “I don’t understand how the good lord lets someone’s brain dissolve in their damn skulls.” 

“Oh, Early.” He caught his husband by the nape and pulled the cowboy into his arms. “It’s going to be okay, honey. It’s okay.” God, he hoped so. Early was scaring him a little bit. “I love you.” 

“I love you.” Early let him hold on, leaning in hard. “This is hard. I miss him.” 

“I know. I know it is. Just breathe and do what you need to do, okay?” He’d insist they go for the service. Bring the boys. 

“Yeah. Yeah, we’ll need to plan on going out for the funeral. I’m betting either Monday or Tuesday next week, if he dies during the night.” Early took a hitching breath. “I need to go. Do you—we haven’t ever talked about how to do funerals with the boys. How do you feel?” 

“I think this was someone very important to you, and the kids should be there.” 

“Can you come? I can’t—I can’t do this and deal with them alone.” 

“Of course I’ll come. I’m not going to let you do this by yourself. We’ll all go.” He had to be there; where else would he be? Early and their boys were all the family he had. 

It was a six-hour drive to Durango, but it was a beautiful ride, and the boys were happy to have extra time on their games. They could head out Friday after school, have supper on the road, and get themselves a hotel. Early’s folks had sold their home and bought a two-bedroom condo, and while it was a lovely place, it was about two thousand square feet too small for their sons. 

He could keep them busy while Early talked with his parents. Board games, cards… 

Okay, their Switches. Or Benadryl. 

“You’re not alone, honey.” 

“No.” Early kissed his jaw. “Not since I picked up this guy at a little dive bar.” 

“I’ve never set foot in a dive bar. I’m way too classy.” It had definitely been a dive bar. But he’d never admitted it before, so why start now? 

“Mmhmm. Dive bar. Neon lights. Scary bathroom. Shots of tequila.” 

“Tequila and neon, sure. I don’t believe I used the bathroom. A sports bar maybe.” He flirted, playing Early’s game. 

“There was a TV, I think…and a piece of shit pool table.” 

“The hottest man on earth was playing pool.” And losing, but the table had been warped and the felt was bunched up near one of the side pockets. It’d looked like a neglected mini-golf course. He hadn’t cared if Early had won or lost, he’d just been watching. 

“Eh, I saw you, and it was over. I never saw another man.” Early said the words like they were simply a fact, just something that was an unalienable truth. 

“Doesn’t make it a dive bar.” He took a kiss and brought the last of the dishes into the kitchen. 

“Dive. Deep dive. Like one of them submarines.” 

Connor laughed. He couldn’t help it. “That’s a new one. I like it.” 

Early bowed deeply. “Well, thank you, sir. I worked hard for it.” 

They loaded the dishwasher, moving around each other easily. Early should have gone up to bed, but he didn’t go, he waited and helped until everything was done, and the house was locked up and quiet. Maybe his man just didn’t want to be alone. He could understand that. 

“You sure you don’t want to shower while I tuck the boys in?” 

“Join me after?” Early still looked a little shell-shocked, stressed out, with red-rimmed eyes and tight lips. 

“Yeah. I’m all yours tonight. Promise.” He gave Early another kiss, wondering how Early had hidden this so well from him until dinner and marveling how quickly his husband was falling apart now that that burden was off his shoulders. “I won’t be long.” He followed Early up the stairs toward the kids and the bedroom. 

“Sounds good to me.” Early tugged his shirt up and off as he walked. “Y’all sleep good, boys. I love you.” 

“Night, Daddy!” Jayden called, while Jaxon’s greeting was totally muffled. Possibly because Jayden was trying to smother him with a pillow. 

He could see Early’s shoulders slumping as he disappeared into the bedroom. 

 

Title: Home Free
Published by: Tygerseye Publishing, LLC
ASIN: B0C9XDL3QT

Pick Up Man

January 6, 2024 by
Contributors: Jodi Payne, BA Tortuga
Series: East Meets Western #5
Genre: , , , , ,
Release Date: March 19, 2024

Jack Boers and Hudson James had a wild affair one long weekend many years ago. But their lives were too different then to even think about something more. They’ve kept in touch, meeting up every year when the bull riding tour is in Anaheim to pick up where they left off, and spending every moment Jack isn’t in the arena in bed together.

But this year, Hudson has a plan. He’s in love with Jack, and even though he knows the cowboy has a man at every stop along the tour, he’s decided to ask for more.

Jack is an experienced, handsome cowboy, and he’s earned his reputation as a bad boy. He knows he can have any man he wants. But the last couple of years, he’s been looking forward to seeing Hudson more than he can understand. He’s really not the rambling man he used to be, and he wonders sometimes if there’s anything out there for him once he retires.

When Hudson’s plan backfires, he’s not sure how to handle the situation. Jack is just keeping his head down and working, unable to understand what is, or what’s not, happening between them. Can they figure out their communication issues before the weekend is over? Or will they be left with “see you same time next year”?

Pick Up Man is a second chance, opposites attract romance featuring a smoking hot bull riding pick-up man, and a wealthy entrepreneur.

Buy the Book: Amazon~~Universal eBook Links

Also in this series:
Cover for Cowboy for Sale, featuring a man in a cowboy hat wearing a checkered shirt.

 

Chapter 1 

 

Jack lived for the Anaheim events—seriously. He got to see the kids, but then they all went to Disneyland. There was a ton of affordable food, decent hotels, and…Hudson. 

For years, he’d had his own personal hot little bastard in Anaheim. Hours in bed, making the bedsprings scream. Pizza delivery twenty-four-seven. Four nights of bliss with one of the ones he never once got tired of. 

He’d spent more time with Hudson in bed than out, and it was easy to picture the man with a lock of blond hair plastered across a wide forehead, and half-lidded blue eyes staring up from the pillows. That was the first image that came to mind, but Hudson knew how to wear a pair of jeans, too, the arms of a polo stretching around muscled biceps. 

Not bad for a geek. 

Hudson couldn’t ride a horse or throw a loop, and Jack was fairly sure he didn’t know what a piggin’ string was, but the fine motherfucker did make his eyes cross. 

He had driven down in a convoy with Mackey, Sid, and Tommy—and they had been having a ball on the pretty drive along the coast from Portland. He’d expected to hear from Hudson by now; he’d even texted twice, which was once more than he usually would for any other booty call, but nothing. Not even those little dots. 

Shit, he hoped Hudson was okay. It wasn’t like the man not to return his texts, but if Jack didn’t hear something soon, well, he’d just call. 

It was the decent thing to do, after all. What if Hudson had been in an accident or something? 

“So we won’t be seeing you at dinner, I hear.” Sid winked at him as Mackey was checking in. 

“Oi.” Tommy laughed. “Only place you’ll see Jack this weekend is on the dirt. He always has plans in Anaheim.” 

“Plans?” Sid asked, and Mackey nodded. 

“Plans plans. Pervy dirty many-condom plans.” 

“Wait.” Sid gave him a confused look. “How is that different than every other weekend?” 

That got a laugh from Mackey and Tommy, and he was about to say something snarky himself when his phone vibrated in his hand. 

[Plane was delayed and traffic in LA sucks.] 

Oh, hell yeah. That was the best possible answer. [Got a room at the Hilton Anaheim. 322. CUSoon] 

[Sounds good.] 

Tommy peered over his shoulder. “Is lover boy standing you up?” 

“He is not, thank you. Nosy.” He couldn’t help his grin, though, not for love or money. “His flight was late.” 

“He flies in for you?” Sid asked, and his grin just got wider. 

“I’m that good.” 

“Every year, so fucking smug. It’s disgusting.” Mackey clapped him on the shoulder. “Speaking of disgusting, see you on the dirt. I’m taking Sid upstairs for a nap before showtime.” 

Tommy sighed. “Sounds like my cue to find the twins. We should have made them drive with us.” 

“You should just get your own hotel room, man.” 

“Oi, the twins would cause a disaster. Can you imagine? They’d be bouncing off the walls like a ‘roo.” 

“Quick before he changes his mind.” Mackey laughed and steered Sid toward the elevator. “Later, y’all!” 

“Mother needs a day off.” Tommy winked at him. Grainger and Hayden—the twins on the bull-fighting team—stumbled into the hotel lobby looking wide-eyed and lost. “Oi! Boys!” Tommy waved. “Off to babysit, mate. Later.” 

“See ya.” Jack waved and headed for the bar, getting a beer while he waited for Hudson. He loved watching the fine son of a bitch walk into a room. 

Or out of a room. 

And it wasn’t long before Hudson showed, wearing jeans, a checkered button-down that tugged at his shoulders, and that unforgettable wide smile. Hudson gave him a lazy wave and headed his way, long legs and tight hips weaving around the dining tables. 

“Can you get me two Bud Lights, please, honey?” he asked the bartender, eyes on that taut belly. 

“Well, Jack Boers. Fancy seeing you here.” Hudson stuck a hand out and pulled him into a bro-hug when he took it, the familiar light cologne filling his nostrils. “And at the bar no less.” 

“I ordered you a Bud. Good to see you, darlin’.” Oh, maybe they could take their beers up to their rooms. He could order room services. 

“Thank you. I need a beer after that flight.” Hudson settled on a stool. “You’re looking healthy. Everything good?” 

“Doing great. You know how it is. I got my dream job.” He rode for three events a weekend whenever he wanted, his horses were happy and healthy, and he had both his thumbs. 

“I do know how that is, since I got mine too.” 

“Two Buds. Are you running a tab?” The bartender set out cocktail napkins, then set the glasses on top. 

“Just the one for me, thanks.” Hudson put a twenty on the bar. 

“So, you looking forward to the weekend? Feels like forever since I got to hang out with your happy ass.” Jack wrote his room number on his receipt. “Want to find a seat?” 

“Well, it’s been about a year, like always. A long one.” Hudson stood, and his sharp blue eyes scanned the room. “There’s a table over there that’ll work.” 

“You been okay? You don’t text like you used to.” And he hated to bother Hudson if he was… doing whatever he did now. Hudson was way quicker to change than he was. Way. 

“Yeah. Sorry, I… I’ve been busy. I got an incredible offer on my company, and I sold it. Now I work for them.” Hudson did some kind of work with medical technology that he didn’t completely follow, but he knew the company had been important. “But it’s good. I’m consulting now, so I have way more time than I used to, you know?” 

“So you sold the place so they could hire you?” Jack guessed the taxes on that were good? He didn’t know. “Time is good.” 

He could give Hudson something to do for a few hours. 

“Sort of? I sold it for over three times what I put into it and now I don’t run it anymore. I just work there. It was a good deal.” Hudson leaned back in his chair. He might only see Hudson once a year, but he could tell there was something off, something in Hudson’s eyes. “I’m turning my talents to my favorite sport.” 

“Yeah?” Surely that was rodeo, right? It needed to be rodeo. Rodeo rocked. 

Just ask him, he’d tell you. 

“Yep. I’m working on a glove. I’ve been working with a couple of riders off circuit, but we’re trying to find some pros to try it out. I’ve got a prototype with me. I’ll show you.” 

“No shit? Go you, man! I’d love to see it.” He was all over that. “What does it do? Protect the hand or keep them in the rope?” 

Hudson smiled and seemed to like the questions. “It’s safety gear, so protection mostly, but the riders seem to like the grip too.” Hudson shrugged. “We’ll see. It’s just nice to have the time to focus on things I enjoy.” 

“I hear that. I been staying with Mackey and his new guy for a bit. It’s nice to be able to just get out and ride.” He could outrun the world on the back of Ghost or Princess, either one. 

“He bought a place in Colorado, right? He has a guy? That’s amazing, good for him.” Hudson sipped his Bud, then studied the glass. Hudson hadn’t ever talked about wanting someone steady, and Jack knew the guy wouldn’t be here if he had someone else. 

Neither one of them were cheaters. 

Jack didn’t promise anyone monogamy. He knew how that worked out. 

“Sid’s okay. Smart like you. I like him for Mackey.” 

Hudson chuckled. “You don’t like smart people for yourself.” 

He frowned over because he surrounded himself with smart guys. He loved fucking the hot, smart ones because they had imaginations. 

“Just curious.” Hudson finished his beer. “I can’t believe how long we’ve been doing this.” 

“Long time, and every year it gets better.” He loved the California air, yessir he did. 

“You think so? Must be all the practice you get in between.” Hudson gave him a wink. 

“You got to use it, so they say.” He wasn’t getting it every weekend these days, but he wasn’t a fucking monk. 

Hudson watched him, then pushed his chair back from the table. “You wanna show me what you got?” 

“You know it.” He stood and offered Hudson his best smile. Thank goodness Hudson seemed more… normal. “I got us a nice room.” 

“Mhm. Okay. I’ve got a room down the hall too. I just dropped my suitcase in it.” 

Weird. “You don’t want to stay with me? You know you’re welcome as the flowers in May.” 

Hudson gave him a smile, but it seemed… complicated. “Oh, I know, cowboy. Thank you. But I’m here on business too this time, so it just seemed… I just got my own space.” 

That sorta made sense, he guessed. He wasn’t much for business. “Well, you want to cancel your room, I got you a key made. First, though, I want to get you somewhere I can kiss the fire out of you.” 

Hudson’s blush was answer enough. “Let’s go to yours.”

Title: Pick Up Man
Published by: Tygerseye Publishing, LLC
ASIN: B0CP1HWMPX
ISBN13: 978-1-951011-94-9

Lost Boy

January 11, 2025 by
Contributors: Jodi Payne, BA Tortuga
Series: Les's Bar #5
Genre: , , , , , ,
Release Date: January 28, 2025

Lost Boy is an opposites attract, sub top, size difference, BDSM romance featuring a strong but gentle veterinarian and a K-9 police dog trainer with a fiery temper.

Veterinarian and Dom Leo Aetos adores animals, has a great apartment in Brooklyn, and even has a favorite bar. The only thing he doesn’t have is a lover and a sub to share it all with. Finding that man is easier said than done because he’s searching for someone with very specific needs. He needs a sub who steps out of the stereotype and that's tall order. Much like he is, at well over six feet.

K-9 Police dog-trainer and sub Chris Kinney figures there’s no way he’d be anything close to what Leo wants. His last D/s relationship failed miserably and he is convinced it was his own fault. He just couldn’t be sort of sub his ex needed him to be. Worse, he struggles with his temper, and he’s not even sure he belongs in New York.

Leo wants to take Chris on despite Chris's misgivings, with some help from his friends at Les’s Bar. He knows pretty much right away he’s not going to want to let Chris go, but will he be able to convince Chris they can both get what they need, without the ex threatening their new relationship?

Buy the Book: Amazon

Also in this series:

Lost Boy – Chapter One

“Hello, is this Mr. Muffins?”

Leo walked into the exam room where a little girl was holding an all-black cat with gorgeous golden eyes. She nodded to him, her pigtails swinging around her shoulders.

“He’s getting fat.” She was very serious, but her father snorted a laugh.

“We’re not overfeeding him.”

“Okay, so, let’s see what’s the matter with him. What’s your name?” Leo took the cat and put him on the table. He was very well-behaved, well-socialized, and didn’t mind being handled. That was very helpful.

“Amy.”

He did a quick palp of the cat’s belly. “I think I may know…” He flipped the cat over carefully and had a look, pushing fur aside. “I have your answer. Mr. Muffins is pregnant. So…she’s not a Mr.”

“She’s having babies?” Amy looked absolutely thrilled.

“What?” The dad actually took a step forward he was so surprised. “He’s a she?”

Leo nodded. “The chart says she’s an indoor cat, but has she gotten out in the last couple of months? She must have, right?”

“Yeah, actually. She jumped out an open window, and we lost her for a couple of days. Amy was so upset. But he—she—turned up near our building, and my wife found him. Her.”

He wasn’t sure how no one noticed a cat in heat, or why she wasn’t fixed as a kitten, but none of that mattered now so he didn’t even ask. “Well, she is now Ms. Muffins, and she’s got some babies on board. Congratulations!”

“Wow. Okay. I was thinking tumor, so I guess this is best-case scenario.”

He put the cat in the carrier that Amy set on the table for him and closed the door. “On the way out, stop by the front desk, and pick up the brochure on dealing with pregnant cats. And once she’s had the kittens, bring her back to get her fixed.”

“Thank you so much, Dr. Aetos.” The dad stuck out his hand.

“My pleasure. Good luck.”

Amy skipped down the hall behind her dad and he followed. “Lexie? No charge for Mr. Muffins, and please change his name to Ms. Muffins and her sex to female in the chart.”

Lexie laughed. “You got it. You off the clock?”

“Yes. I am going home. But before I go, can you order me some more scrubs?”

“Sure. Let’s see… size super extra crazy tall, right?”

“You got it. And husky.”

Lexie laughed again. “Husky. I like it.”

“Do they have Minions?”

“Uh…” Lexie started scrolling. “Captain America?”

“I have those.”

Lexie pushed her dark bangs out of her eyes. “Kermit the Frog…”

“Got ’em.” He loved them too. They were actually fuzzy pajamas, not scrubs, and they were comfy.

“Sully?”

Hold up. “Ooh. Yes. Get me Sully. But do they have Minions?”

“I don’t see Minions except in normal big people sizes. Not Hulk.”

“I have the Hulk.” He had several pairs in fact, because people thought they were funny and gave them to him as gifts all the time. He would never run out of Hulk pants. He sighed. “You know, are Minions really too much to ask for?”

“Hey, they have Little Mermaid!”

“No shit? In my size?”

“They totally do.”

That was a no-brainer. “Well, I need those. Obviously.”

“Obviously. Is that enough for now?”

“I guess so. But I’m going to keep asking about Minions, so keep your eye out.”

“If I see them, I’ll just order them.”

“Perfect. Thanks, Lexie.”

“You got it, King of the Jungle.”

He rolled his eyes. There wasn’t a big, tall, or giant joke he hadn’t heard. Not one. But they were all in good fun, and he didn’t mind.

There was no reason to get all caught up in drama when there was so much joy out there to discover, after all.

He changed out of his Lightning McQueen scrubs and clogs and into blue jeans and boots making his six-foot-four frame even taller, pulled on a clean T-shirt and his jacket, and headed out into the still-cold early-spring evening.

He got on the subway and had two stops to make up his mind before the train took him home. If he got off and changed trains, he’d leave Brooklyn and head into Manhattan where he’d spend his evening at Les’s Bar.

Or, he could go home, curl up on his couch, and watch a movie.

One stop… two stops…

Oh why not? He got off and switched trains.

The bar would be warm, busy, and a decent place to spend an evening. There was something about Les’s—not fancy, but absolutely not a dive. It was simply a good place for men of his predilections to hang out.

The only drawback, living in Brooklyn, was the bar was a bit of a trip. But he always sprung for a ride home. He could afford it, and at the end of the week, he deserved a little treat.

He got off the subway and walked the last couple of blocks, arriving after happy hour, but it wasn’t too late to order a bite to eat. He smiled as soon as he walked in the door, glad he’d decided to come out. He was always so relaxed here. He glanced at the booths where they normally sat people that wanted to eat but walked right by them.

He just didn’t fit. He always ate at the bar.

“Master Leo! How’s it going?” One of the bartenders offered him a warm smile. “Good to see you.”

“Drew.” He smiled. “Always good to see you. May I please look at your menu?” He always asked to look even though he practically had it memorized. “And whatever cabernet you have open. Thank you.”

“Of course, Sir.” In moments, he had a glass of wine and a menu, along with a warm smile.

“Thank you, boy.” Drew was adorable, and every sub in here knew just how unattached he was, so he got a lot of hopeful smiles. He wasn’t that guy, though. He didn’t take just anyone home for some fun. He had a weird tendency to crush on adorable subs whether they were really suited to his needs or not.

He couldn’t help it. He didn’t just like people; he fell a little bit for almost everyone.

“Dude, did you hear about Master Neil’s friend?” One of the little ones was gossiping to his bar mate. “My Master took me to the diner, and we saw him. He’s crazy, man. You can see it in his eyes.”

“Boy.” He interrupted in an admonishing tone. “I don’t think that kind of gossip appropriate in this setting.” Neil probably wouldn’t appreciate it.

One of them whispered, “Dammit,” while the other said, “Sorry, Sir!” in a tone so bright it was ridiculous.

Neil was in law enforcement, if he remembered correctly. It didn’t seem like Neil would have an unstable friend who worked in a diner. But then, one of Neil’s partners was a shrink, so anything was possible.

They weren’t at the bar often, honestly. He saw them once a quarter, maybe. Isaac didn’t seem like the bar type.

He looked the menu over and put it down, waving Drew back to him. “Spaghetti and meatballs, please. And what is this about Neil’s friend? Is Neil okay?”

“Master Neil? Oh, they’re talking about Chris. He’s a dog trainer. He’s from… somewhere with mountains. His apartment flooded, and he’s been staying with the three of them. I’d question more if Master Isaac is okay…”

“Four of them under one roof? That’s a lot. A dog trainer is cool though.” It sucked to lose an apartment, though. “You’re probably right about Isaac; he’s a routine guy.”

“Yes, Sir. Very much, and Alain and Neil are up and out at four a.m., while Chris is a night owl, so…”

“Oof. That sounds terrible.” He shook his head. “Why are they saying he’s… unstable?”

“He’s a bit of a wild one, that’s all. You know, a little bit of a drinker, one of those ‘I’ll submit if you can force me’ types.”

He lifted one eyebrow. “Oh yeah? So, no Dom of his own, I take it.” Interesting. He wasn’t sure what “wild” really meant though. “I’m sure Isaac loves that.”

Isaac could put his foot down, but he wasn’t one for a fight. He knew that much.

Drew shook his head, lips twisting. “No, Sir. They were in here a few nights ago, and Master Isaac took Alain home.”

“Hm. Maybe I’ll give Neil a call and see if he needs some help.” He could take the boy out for an evening, give them all a break. He knew his way around a willful sub; they’d be all right for an evening.

“Somewhere with mountains” made it sound like the boy didn’t have anywhere else to go.

“Oh, you are the sweetest man, Sir. Let me put your order in. Xavier’s in a great mood, so the food should rock.”

“Tell him extra garlic.” He wasn’t going to be kissing anyone tonight.

Leo pulled out his phone and scrolled through his contacts to see if he had Neil. Neil was a switch, an interesting guy. They’d flirted a little once, but he backed off when he found out about Neil’s needs. He knew he had a problem with investing in subs, and that would have been a poor investment for both of them.

Neil was a fascinating person, though, and could tell stories about when he’d been a cop for days. Now that he co-owned a diner with his lover, Leo could only imagine how amazing the stories had become.

He didn’t have Neil’s number. Hm. “Hey, Drew? Can you find me the number for Neil and Alain’s diner? Or even Isaac’s number would work.”

“Let me get Les for you, Sir. He’ll be able to help you.” Oh, good boy—protecting their customers.

He ought to have known better. “Of course. Thank you.” Drew ducked through a swinging door, and Leo waited for Les. Just as well, because Les might have more details. Maybe he was overstepping by thinking he could help. It was possible that Neil wouldn’t want it, of course.

But Neil was capable of saying “No, thank you,” and being perfectly polite about it.

Les came out from his office, a smile on his face. “Dr. Aetos! Welcome.”

He stood and offered a friendly hand to shake. “If it isn’t the Les, of Les’s Bar.” He grinned. “Good to see you.”

Les bowed, then snorted. “It’s good to be seen. Sorry about Drew. We have rules about giving out information, and he is… scrupulously honest.”

“No, Drew did exactly the right thing, I ought to have known better. I overheard something about Neil having a challenging visitor, and I thought I might be able to help. I can contact him another way. Stop by the diner, maybe.” The food was amazing, it would be a worthwhile trip.

“Yes. Oddly enough, Isaac had to take Alain out when they were here, and I believe Neil and his company are staying in a hotel…”

“Oh my. That’s worse than what I’d imagined. Did you meet this friend when they were here?” Maybe volunteering to help was a poor idea.

“I did. He’s…” Les pursed his lips. “Not a man you would take as a submissive. He’s very willful, strong, hungry for a struggle and unapologetically so.”

Not a man he’d take as a sub. Interesting. “Is he actually a sub? Or is he just a guy with issues?”

“Neil seems… very sure. Incredibly sure.”

“Hmm. It sounds to me like Neil has a problem.”

“Yes, well—we do know that is an issue for our friend, don’t we?”

He nodded. “Do you have any sense how long this guy is going to be in town?”

“Oh, he worked with Neil. He trains K9 dogs for the police.”

That probably meant that Neil was going to get the guy a job. “So… permanently. Issac must be a wreck. I barely know him, but I know enough.”

Les rolled his eyes, but his smile was fond. “Hopefully things will work out quickly. Isaac hates being at odds with Neil.”

“I’m going to drop by the diner. I kind of like the headstrong ones. They can be fun. Maybe I can give them a night off. Thanks for all the info.”

Drew came out with a plate of pasta and meatballs that made his mouth water from three feet away. “Oh. Come to papa.”

“Enjoy, Sir! Let me know if you need anything else.”

“Let me know how things go with Neil. I’m interested.” Les tapped the bar. “Enjoy your dinner. Always good to see you.”

He nodded and managed to say thanks around his bite of meatball.

Dinner at the diner tomorrow. That was a plan. The rest he’d play by ear. He didn’t mind. It sounded like fun.

 

 

Title: Lost Boy
Published by: Tygerseye Publishing, LLC
ASIN: B0DSCQQHM1

Sin Deep

July 17, 2022 by
Contributors: Jodi Payne, BA Tortuga
Series: The Sin Deep Series #5
Genre: , , , , ,
Release Date: July 26, 2022

Winter Love knows how to give. He gave himself his own name after all, and he’s given love to many young men who later moved on with someone they wanted more. Too many. So he’s stopped putting himself out there to be hurt by the young little birds he prefers, though he does still enjoy going to the gentlemen’s club where he has a membership. He’s older, old-fashioned, eccentric, and content to be more about people watching these days.

Harley McBride is new to New York City, having left his home in Texas for a more welcoming town. He’s hard-working, friendly, and has a curious nature, which means he’s having a great time meeting people. When his roommate takes him to an interesting new club, he decides to introduce himself to a man who is fascinating to him, even from across the room.

Caught off-guard, Winter takes a chance in return, and asks Harley to let him make up Harley’s dark eyes. Things begin to heat up, and the two of them connect in ways that neither of them could have anticipated. But Winter knows he needs to tread carefully, and Harley is used to being independent and handling things on his own. Will they be able to find a path that suits them both, or will their relationship stay simply sin deep?

Sin Deep is set in The Cowboy and the Dom universe and features an opposites attract, May-December relationship.

Buy the Book: Amazon~~Universal eBook Links

Also in this series:

Title: Sin Deep
Published by: Tygerseye Publishing, LLC
ASIN: B0B67GQK5F

 

Chapter One 

 

Winter Love wasn’t giving up anything for Lent; he never had and he never would, but he participated in Fat Tuesday every year as if he planned to starve himself until Easter. He’d pulled on a rich, green shirt, a gold tie, and a brand-new purple and gold masquerade mask for the occasion, and he was looking forward to a night out. Maybe Mardi Gras was a New Orleans tradition, but The Big Apple could give The Big Easy a run for its money. 

Along with the New Year’s Eve ball and the Halloween costume party, Mardi Gras was one of his favorite nights at Sin Deep. He’d been a member of the kinky club almost as long as he’d lived in New York. Nearly as long as he’d held his job at the public library. He’d started out as a young man, eager to experience new things, to lose himself in the scene. 

Winter studied his boots as he sat in the back of a black sedan. He’d been through countless pairs of chunky, authoritative black boots over the years—boots with buckles or zippers, punk and biker and military style, even a tall pair with silver studs going up the back when that was in fashion. The pair he’d stepped into tonight was new; he’d treated himself as an early fortieth birthday present. They had a nice western heel and toe and the leather was rich and soft. They were more stylish than intimidating, but possibly the most comfortable pair of boots he’d ever owned. 

They suited his almost forty-year-old image better too. He wasn’t eager now. He wasn’t cocky like he used to be, or forward, and he wasn’t one to pursue men anymore. He didn’t feast quite like he used to; he’d grown into a man who preferred to taste and savor rather than devour. He’d earned plenty of respect and was one of the establishment members now; he didn’t need to impress anyone. He liked to watch, have a drink, occasionally make an overture…and he was never turned down. 

Winter’s car pulled up in front of Sin Deep, and he stepped out onto the sidewalk. The tall, heavy front doors stole his breath for a moment as they always did and he instantly broke out in goosebumps. 

Who was he kidding? That confident, forty-year-old club elder was essentially a fantasy. He’d never hunted anything more than a drink at Sin Deep, and although he knew that man intimately in the privacy of his own mind, the persona vanished in a puff of awkward smoke every time he walked through the front doors, leaving little more than a facade behind. 

He needed the place though. It was the closest thing to home he’d ever had. He was never more present, more relaxed than when he was here. Sin Deep was his drug of choice, his pleasure and his weakness, and Mardi Gras was always a good party, even for wallflowers. 

 

Chapter Two 

 

“Lord have mercy, man.” Harley plopped down with a sigh, grinning over at his roommate. “I busted my hump today.” 

No one had ever warned him that Yankees were just as bad about ragging the little guy as any bunch of rednecks. He’d done proved himself—he was nothing if not strong as an ox and stubborn as a mule with a burr biting his butthole—but Giorgio and Miguel knew what he could do and drove him like a prize pony. 

Paid him damn well for following directions, carrying shit from one place to a truck, then from the truck to another place. All-in-all, he came home with cash, burning muscles, and the knowledge that his muscles didn’t come from a gym. 

Today was a harpsichord. Who the fuck used a friggin’ harpsichord? Who moved a goddamn harpsichord? 

This little gal with fake boobies, bright pink hair, and a tattoo of a bird on her goddamn face, that’s who. 

Oliver snorted. “You bust your hump every day. Jackson told me two things about you. He said we were going to get along great, and he said I would definitely not have to worry about the rent while you were subletting his room. I totally believe him. What do you do for fun?” 

“Sleep.” He sprawled out, as far as he could. “Uh…back home I went to a couple bars, hung out, I guess.” 

“Exciting.” Oliver rolled his eyes and wandered into his bedroom. The apartment was small enough they could carry on their conversation without even raising their voices. “What is your drink of choice?” 

“I drink Bud Light. Shiner if we’re being fancy. I been known to like a margarita too.” But that was something you drank with your momma or your cousins. Not with the guys, which was stupid, but true. 

“Oh no, no, no, Harley. Sweetheart. That won’t do. Why don’t you come out with me tonight and let me buy you a real drink?” 

That ‘sweetheart’ always made him blush. 

He’d come to stay for a couple months just because Jackson swore this was a friendly place, somewhere he could just be him, and he was having a ball. Especially now that Jackson had decided to stay in Rome for another couple-three months, and he could keep on keeping on. 

“Yeah? You want to?” He had a pair of pretty clean jeans. 

“Yes. Be my date. It will be an adventure. Trust me. Go get dressed.” Oliver came out of his bedroom in his signature skinny jeans and a shiny gold jacket. He didn’t comment on the gold high-heeled booties, but they made Oliver look tall and lean, and there was glitter in Oliver’s short but curly dark hair. “It’s a Mardi Gras party.” 

“Oh. Uh. Okay.” He put on his cleanest jeans and a black t-shirt with his leather jacket and his boots. He didn’t wear his Stetson, because he’d learned quick that meant getting knocked around a ton. He had a cap. 

“Oh, you look so handsome! No hat? Are you sure? Would you like some glitter for your hair?” Oliver held out a mask covered in purple sequins. “And here. You’ll need this.” 

“No glitter, thanks.” Lord, could anyone imagine? “I’ll wear my cap.” 

Oliver rolled his eyes so hard he thought they might pop out. “Suit yourself. Take the mask, though. You ready? My Uber is here.” 

“I am.” He grabbed his wallet and the mask. “Let’s hasta.” 

He did like him an adventure. 

The car ride didn’t take that long, but that didn’t mean he had any idea where they ended up. “My guess is you’ve never been to a party like this one, sweetheart. Just stick with me for a bit until you get your bearings.” 

They got out of the car and walked up to a set of crazy tall doors that looked heavy but seemed to open by themselves anyway. 

“Is this, like, a funhouse? It seems like something in an amusement park.” That would be cool. He was up for it. 

“It can be. Tonight it’s just a party.” Oliver took his hand and pulled him inside. It took a second for his eyes to adjust to the sudden change in lighting and by the time he had, Oliver was taking off his jacket. “I’ll check your coat with mine, okay?” 

Harley blinked, staring at Oliver, a little agog. “Dude! You are sparkly!” 

And wearing, like a…a…tube top. A sequined Harlequin tube top where his nipples showed, which made sense, since Oliver didn’t have himself boobies. It was like nothing he’d ever seen, but it was so totally Oliver that he just grinned and applauded. 

“Do you like it?” Oliver beamed and turned for him, showing off. 

“Oliver!” A guy in a purple vest and a feathered mask gave Oliver a hug. 

“Jesse! Oh, Jess—can you tighten me up?” 

“Of course. Let me see.” Jesse moved around behind Oliver and tugged until the top Oliver was wearing went taut across his chest.” 

“Ooh. Perfect. Jesse, this is Harley. He’s subletting while Jackson is in Rome.” 

“Harley? Like the motorcycle? I’m Jesse. Like the outlaw.” Jesse offered a hand like he expected Harley to kiss it. 

Harley shook, careful not to squeeze, because he wasn’t an asshole. He’d figured that out, and he wasn’t interested in seeming mean. “Pleased to meet you, sir. How goes?” 

Jesse laughed. “He called me ‘Sir’, Oliver. Where are you from, honey?” 

“Just west of Fort Worth, and I mean no offense.” He winked over. “Polite is part of my charm, I’m told.” 

“Oh my god I love him!” Jesse stepped between him and Oliver. “Welcome to the club, darling. Do you want to dance?” 

“Jess—” 

“You hush, Ollie. You brought me a handsome cowboy.” Jesse leaned a little closer to him, big blue eyes flashing, and he got a whiff of sweet cologne. 

“Now, can I trust you to keep me safe? Because Oliver’s told me to stick to him…” 

Jesse’s eyes went wide. “This is a very classy club, Mr. Harley. But don’t you worry, you’re safe with me.” 

“He is; his virtue on the other hand…” Oliver laughed. 

“I will be very, very careful with the cowboy, I promise.” Jesse took his arm. “It’s just a dance. You can dance, can’t you?” 

“Believe it or not, I can, and I like it.” He could do everything from wild flailing to waltz. He wasn’t fancy, but he wasn’t going to embarrass himself or his dance partner. 

“Charmer.” Jesse pulled him into the crowd. Oliver shouted after them that he’d be at the bar. “Is this your scene? How long have you been in town?” 

“Three months, two weeks, and five days.” Harley winked, laughing at himself. “And I don’t know that I have a scene yet, but this is absolutely my first time here!” 

And it was electric—sparkling and loud, exciting and overwhelming in the best way. 

Jesse laughed as they wove through the crowd, finally finding the dance floor. The lighting was purple and green, shifting with the music. “I can tell. You’re not dressed like you expected to be here tonight. I’m not complaining though, that t-shirt fits you just right.” Jesse’s hands slid over his chest before finding his shoulders and staying there. 

“Oliver didn’t need me upstaging him in his…top.” His hands landed on Jesse’s hips so he could find the man’s rhythm. “This okay?” 

Jesse nodded, stepping closer. “So okay. Go on and lead, honey. I can follow.” 

They started dancing, laughing as they figured out how not to murder one another’s toes. Three songs in, the DJ played a slow song, and he didn’t know Jesse that well, so he backed off. “Want to get a drink? I’m dry as a bone.” 

“That sounds—” 

“Jesse.” 

Jesse froze for a second and gave the tall man in a mask that covered half his face a sheepish look. “Oh, hi.” 

The man crossed his arms, silently, and Jesse looked at Harley. “Oops! I think I’m in trouble.” Jesse winked at him. “But you were a lovely dance partner. Tell Oliver to buy you that drink for me.” 

“Now, Jesse.” 

“Yes, Sir. I’m sorry, Sir. Coming. Bye, Harley!” 

The tall man caught Jesse by the nape and steered him away. He started to go after Jesse; that couldn’t be right. Was Jesse okay? But only made it one step before a hand caught him in the chest. 

“Let them be. It’s okay. This is their thing.” 

“You sure? We just met. He knows my roommate.” His brain insisted he needed to make a fuss, but his gut wasn’t near as sure about that… 

The man that stood there wasn’t so tall he was staring at his bellybutton, but at his chest, and the green eyes were sparkling at him. 

“I’m sure. I’ve known them both for years. You’re here with Ollie.” It wasn’t a question. The guy offered a hand. “I’m Winter.” 

“Winter.” That was a great name! “I’m Harley. Pleased to meet you, sir.” 

Winter. That was something else. Green-eyed Winter. 

“Hello, Harley. I don’t want to keep you from your friend. It was good to meet you. Enjoy your evening.” 

“Have a good evenin’!” He braced himself to head toward the bar, which was sure a crush of folks. There were more people in this building than in his whole hometown. 

Oliver wasn’t hard to find, being taller than most men and colorful too. “You’re back! I thought Winter might have scooped you up.” Oliver tapped the bar “Two whiskey gingers, Leighton.” 

“He wasn’t interested.” That was okay. He’d met two guys in five songs. One that was wanting to be friends was fucking great odds. 

Oliver snorted, eyes darting to the crowd and then back to him. “No? He’s been watching you all night. He’s watching you now.” 

“Stop it.” He was the least sparkly guy in a universe of glitter. A damn accidental black hole. “If he wants a drink, I’ll buy him one.” 

“He doesn’t.” The bartender sat two drinks down and pushed one toward each of them. “He’ll nurse the one he’s got for a while. And he’ll watch, it’s what he does. He’s definitely watching you.” 

“Thank you, sir. What do I owe you?” Now that the guy mentioned it, he could feel eyes on his back. 

“Nothing. A good time. You’re off to a good start. Did you have fun with Jesse?” 

“He’s fun, yeah. Have y’all been friends long?” He sipped the drink, finding it smoky and spicy, but with bubbles. He approved. 

“I guess. Maybe…five or six years? He’s been with Theo all that time. Very taken. So naughty.” Oliver sipped his drink. “He cooks too. Oh my god. Amazing. And this is a silly party night, but you should see him on a regular night. He’s beautiful. He’s just… I mean, you wouldn’t believe it.” 

“He likes to dance. I didn’t know he was with someone. I don’t like to be rude.” It wasn’t in his makeup unless he was fighting. 

“No worries. He liked you, but he was just playing, showing off for Theo. And even if you’d known he was taken, it was just dancing, Harley. Just fun.” 

“Cool. I just don’t know all y’all’s rules. If I can dance with him, that was good.” He thought it was something—how every group of folks, every single one, had their own sets of rules, and if you figured them? Then things worked easier. 

“Everyone’s rules are different, but in here everyone is family. No worries. You can’t get in trouble for having fun.” Oliver sipped his drink. “So Jackson says he’s staying in Rome for a while; are you staying in New York?” 

“I intend to, yessir. I think we do okay, rooming, you and me.” In fact, Oliver seemed happy as a pig in shit. 

“We’re good, sweetheart.” Oliver sipped his drink, then looked at him with a slight frown. “You know he’s not there alone, right?” 

“Jackson? Did he hook up with someone out there?” How fucking cool was that. Then he’d have a reason to go to Italy sometimes. It was always good to have a buddy to visit. 

“No. He went with his partner, Harley. He didn’t tell you he had a boyfriend?” 

“Nope. I mean, he never said one way or the other.” Which was sort of weird. They’d talked a lot about Jackson’s schooling, about Oliver, about the restaurant that he waited tables in, but not a lover? 

“Oh. Well. I’m sure he had a reason.” Oliver shrugged, and he had to wonder if Oliver knew what the reason might be. “Anyway, I don’t think he’ll be back for a while. Last I heard from him he was happy.” 

“Good. I’m all over happiness. He’s my good friend, you know?” He’d worry about whether or not he needed to worry about things later. 

Maybe Sunday. 

“Oh yeah, for sure. He talked about you a lot.” 

“Hello again!” Jesse was suddenly there, grinning widely with hands full of Mardi Gras beads. “I’ve been tasked with handing these out. Here, cowboy, you need some bling.” Jesse hung a handful of them around his neck. “Oh, much better.” 

“Good lord and butter.” He rolled his eyes, but he’d play along. No one’d asked to see his titties to get them, and he could use them to decorate his room. 

Jesse hung a handful around Oliver’s neck too. “See? I was careful with the cowboy.” 

“I appreciate it. He’s delicate.” Dude, butter wouldn’t melt in Oliver’s mouth. 

“That’s me. Like blown glass and shit.” 

Jesse rolled his eyes. “I want to see you dressed up. Dress him up next time, Oliver. Don’t you think he’d be beautiful?” 

Oliver nodded. “Go easy, Jesse. He’s new-new.” 

“Oh.” Jesse nodded. “Don’t worry, cowboy. You won’t be new forever.” Jesse kissed his cheek and moved down the bar, hanging more necklaces on people as he went. 

No. No one was new forever. He was going to enjoy all the fun of this, new or not.