Unbroken Hearts Page 3

  “Damn straight. Take my advice, yeah? Talk it out, at least that way you’re not moping around this dang place. This old eyesore ain’t worth the wood it’s built with, kid. Let alone all the worry and fretting.”

  Ray tipped his hat, then turned away, leaving JT alone, or maybe accompanied by the ghosts of Valentine’s Days past?

  BRETT WAS scarce for the latter part of the day, and JT actually missed his ridiculous remarks, inappropriate gropes, and even his stupid face. As he made his way to the house, he pulled his jean jacket tighter around his chest. A chilly breeze had kicked up, and gray clouds hovered ominously in the sky. A light sprinkle of rain followed JT’s progress, but rather than hurrying to the house, he stopped short when he noticed something out of place—Brett’s truck. Or not so much out of place as not freaking there at all.

  JT didn’t recall Brett mentioning any errands he needed to run, and considering they were supposed to be at Bubba’s in less than an hour, his absence was perplexing. JT continued on into the house with an excited Whiz nipping at his heels.

  “Hey, Whizzy. Where did Brett go, huh, boy? Did you see him? Is he getting me flowers like a good, old country boyfriend?”

  He laughed at his own absurd thoughts and questions aimed at the exuberant pup. After shucking his jacket, he shook off the preposterous ideas, as well. He bent to take off his boots, the level of his distraction apparent when one leap from Whiz sent them both sprawling to the hardwood floor. He tugged off his boots before grabbing Whiz in a bear hug, giggling as the pup wiggled and squirmed to get away. JT ended up on the losing end of the battle, but at least his face was well and disgustingly washed by Whiz’s affections.

  “You’re not exactly the one I want kissing me. No offense meant or taken, I hope.”

  He’d just released the wagging ball of energy when the screen door behind him opened. “I was wondering where you were. Missed you today, sexy man. Where’d you run—?”

  “Well, that’s damn sweet of ya, but I don’t think we should tell Brett or Millie that you fancy me. Could make for some awkwardness over dinner.”

  “Ray… what the—”

  “I know I only saw you an hour or so ago, but it’s always nice to know you care.”

  JT rolled his eyes, giving Whiz one last scratch before pushing to his feet. “You’re crazy, old man. You and Brett are a matched set of bad puns.”

  With a gentlemanly bow and tip of his hat, Ray veered toward the kitchen. “Don’t mind if I grab that last cup of coffee, do ya?”

  “You’re welcome to the sludge.” JT stood his boots against the wall before stretching his arms over his head in a fake yawn. He snuck a peek over his shoulder, hoping he sounded as casual as what he was going for. “Have you seen Brett this afternoon?”

  “Yep.” Ray parked himself at the kitchen table, his face doubly wrinkled as he puffed at the steam wafting over the rim of his cup.

  JT shook his head, thoughts tumbling recklessly, his brain hurting a little with the effort. Some days dealing with Ray and Brett was like trying to teach half-wits to think full-brained.

  Holy hell! Had he seriously just thought that?

  It was an exact quote from his mother, and it scared the ever-loving crap out of him. He hung his head in disgust, slumping into his usual chair with a hard swallow. He tried one more time to get Ray to be forthcoming. “Care to share any other information?”

  “Nope. But he did say something about having to straighten something out with someone.”

  “That’s very informative. Thank you,” JT said with an involuntary snort.

  “He’s your man. Not my fault you can’t keep track of him.”

  “Ray. You’re killing me here.” JT could have sworn the corners of Ray’s eyes crinkled the way they did when he was trying to not be amused. “How about a straight answer before I’m forced to kill you on the most romantic day of the year?”

  “You’re far too young to be so bitter, kid.”

  Frustration gripped JT, and he fought the urge to stomp his foot like a disgruntled toddler. “Well, you would be too if you had to spend your first Valentine’s Day as a couple with… you.”

  “Seems like that goes both ways, don’t it?”

  JT let his head fall with a thump to the tabletop. His brain actually felt better after the blow. “Yeah, yeah. I know. No offense.”

  Ray clicked his tongue. “None taken. I suppose with that way of thinking, you might also consider it unfortunate that you’ve got me for a little extra time.”

  “What?” JT squinted at Ray, but his poker face was set in stone.

  “You taking a shower before our big date tonight, ain’t ya?”

  Things were just moving from bad to worse—frustration turning to pissed-off irritation. Fuck Valentine’s Day and its romantic bullshit confusion. And why couldn’t he find anyone on the goddamn ranch to have a normal conversation with? Whizzy was the best candidate for the job. Still, he didn’t let Ray off the hook.

  “What kind of a question is that?”

  Ray was on his feet before JT saw him move. “Well, since I’ve been assigned as the first part of your date, I don’t want ya stinking up my truck when Millie’s in there for the second round.”

  “In English, Ray?” Cowboys would surely be the death of JT Campbell.

  “I’m taking you to dinner, smart boy, driving you at least. You’ve got an hour to get all dolled-up and pretty-like, or whatever it is you fellas wanna call it.”

  “Us fellas? Wait… what… you’re taking me to Bubba’s?”

  “There ya go.” Ray’s smug smirk shone, and had JT been any kind of a violent man, Ray might have been in trouble. As it was, he kept the violence in his head. “Now it’s sinking in. I told you Brett had some business in town or something or other.”

  “Yeah, you already incoherently said that.”

  Ray continued without a second glance. “He didn’t think he’d be back in time, so he’s picking up his mama, and I’m stuck chauffeuring your ass around like usual.”

  “You’re fucking kidding me?”

  “No. I can assure you, I ain’t. And you’ve developed a bad case of trucker mouth, also from your doting boyfriend I’d imagine.”

  “You’re really getting on—”

  “I’ll see ya in an hour, sweetheart. Gotta get all pretty-smelling myself.”

  Fuck.

  IT WASN’T Ray’s fault that Brett was acting like an asshole, or more to the point, JT was positive Brett could be an insensitive bastard all by himself. Where his usual feelings of overwhelming adoration for his cowboy had gone, JT had no idea.

  No, that was wrong too. Those emotions were still there, still making him dizzy with want and desperate for Brett’s attention. They were just a little clouded with the dissatisfaction that was the entirety of Valentine’s Day. It had been a pissy day, and unfortunately, it wasn’t over yet.

  JT showered, then attempted to make himself pretty for Ray, even managing an amused snort when Ray presented him with a horrendous yellow plastic flower that looked like it had been saved from the trash.

  “My hero,” he said, batting his eyes and twirling the ugly thing between his fingers. “And me with nothing for you.”

  “Your company is all the gift I need.” Ray managed to get through the whole sentence before a bubble of hearty laughter slid past his lips and a strained guffaw echoed loudly in the room.

  JT feigned disappointment with a sigh. “I was going to tell you that you had game, but now you’ve just hurt my feelings.”

  Ducking Ray’s uncoordinated grab, JT slapped him on the back as he slipped past him with the intention of getting his boots. The sooner they left, the sooner he could give Brett a piece of his mind, a very big piece. His failed hand job in the shower had convinced him he wasn’t acting like himself, and if it was affecting his ability to get himself off, it was time to attack the problem head-on, so to speak.

  Whether Valentine’s Day was a big deal to Brett or not,
whether he’d showered Walt with gifts and affection or not, the day itself wasn’t necessarily JT’s biggest issue. On the contrary, it was simply something to blame for his building frustration, and maybe even the insecurity he wasn’t necessarily ready to admit.

  Ray had never been more accurate in his blustering statements. The barn made JT’s skin crawl, and unjustifiable jealousy swept through him when he walked around the near abandoned building. But on top of the irrational need to have Brett all to himself, there was an oppressing sadness that surrounded the barn, a depressing note in the air that JT suspected must be sensed by more than just himself.

  Ray said the old thing should just be burned down—out of sight, out of mind. That wasn’t necessarily true, but in a dramatic turn of events, Ray was right in his insistence that JT needed to come clean to Brett. And he did want to stop tiptoeing around his cowboy if there was any chance of that happening.

  “You’re awfully quiet.” Ray adjusted the volume on the radio as he jerked the truck to the right to avoid a pothole. JT resisted the urge to clutch at the dashboard. “Need an ear to bend for a spell?”

  “No. Yes… I don’t know. Fuck!”

  With a snort, Ray poked JT in the arm. “Sounds like the shrink needs a shrink, then. Fine bit of irony that is.”

  “I’m not a shrink, and for your goddamn information, psychiatrists and psychologists need shrinks more than a lot of their patients.”

  “Is that a yes or no, son?”

  JT stared out the passenger window, watching steady drips and drops of rain stream down the glass. The storm had moved in, fast and furious. It was the kind of night for staying at home, warm and cozy, cuddling in front of the fireplace, not trying to navigate through a downpour that made the road almost impossible to see. And all for what? To listen to some washed-up singer in the company of a crowd of beer-guzzling rednecks on fucking Valentine’s Day.

  Oh fuck a goddamn duck. He couldn’t believe his thoughts had turned so vile again. Six months with Brett, and almost another two months before that, had supposedly cleared those random judgments from his head. And he sure didn’t like that they’d crept back in just because he was disappointed in Brett’s nonromantic behavior, or in the attachment he might still have to Walt and a ramshackle barn.

  He attempted to banish the feeling, squaring his shoulders and jutting out his chin in hopes that acting like a big boy would make him a big boy. “So do you know this guy who’s playing tonight?” He twisted to face Ray as the rain continued to pelt the window, the truck bumping and rattling along the gravel road.

  “Used to.”

  “Is he any good?”

  “Used to be.”

  “You’re a wealth of information as usual, Ray.”

  “Much obliged for the compliment.”

  “Do you know where Brett went?”

  “He’s your man. You should be keeping track—”

  “Keeping track of him. Yes, you mentioned that before.”

  Silence mocked JT for a few awkward moments of rain sloshing the windshield and wind rocking the truck. Ray finally side-eyed him. “Want some advice?”

  “Shouldn’t you add a more to that question?”

  Ray grunted. “Hell, I think I might have actually been wrong. You’re like a combination of Walt and Brett put together in a not so appealing—”

  “The advice, Ray?”

  “Kick back and enjoy yourself tonight.”

  “That’s it?” JT rolled his eyes and bumped his head against the headrest. “I don’t even know what that means.”

  “Just let Brett be Brett. You might be happily surprised—”

  “Jesus, Ray, can you ever give me a straight—look out!” JT grabbed the dash, clutching tightly as the truck jolted to the left this time. “Was that a cow on the road?”

  “Must have a date for Valentine’s too.”

  JT cackled involuntarily. “Bastard.”

  He was already enjoying his romantic evening out. So. Very. Much.

  Chapter 3

  JT WAS a nervous wreck by the time he wobbled his way into Bubba’s Pubba, cursing Ray’s driving, or at least the raving storm that had turned the trek into a roller-coaster ride. His knees threatened to give out while Ray huffed in amusement at his side. They wound their way around tables to get to the one nearest the stage where Brett was waving and whistling for their attention.

  “Hey!” Brett’s smile was wide and welcoming, his eyes gleaming from gray to bright blue under the flickering light over his head. JT tried not to grin back, but his heart skipped a beat even if he didn’t want it to. “Nastier than a wild bull in heat out there, yeah?”

  He leaned into JT, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before easing away. His hand slid across JT’s hip, then under his jacket before settling on his lower back. Familiar fingertips scratched softly against JT’s plaid button-up—Brett’s plaid button-up actually—and Brett gazed deeply into his eyes.

  JT was taken aback by the intimacy of the affectionate greeting. He forced his muscles to relax, his brain to stop questioning, and his discontent to go the fuck away. Ray was right, again. Mother of God, JT hated admitting that even to himself.

  He needed to get out of his stupid head and enjoy himself. The man holding him close was the love of his life, despite any other love he’d already had. No man or woman in their right mind wouldn’t see the strength of Brett Taylor’s commitment to JT. So JT needed to stop being a stubborn ass, especially since that was usually Brett’s role.

  And said cowboy seemed almost euphoric as he joked and jested with Ray. He kept his hand nestled against JT’s back, his left hip and thigh brushing JT’s right. It was soothing, comforting, and brought a much-needed stillness to the normal excitement that Brett’s touch never failed to provide. And for the first time, JT felt like he was in a real relationship, one that extended past the property lines of the ranch.

  They weren’t hermits or shut-ins by any stretch of the imagination, but going to the diner for supper or to the market for supplies wasn’t anything that made JT feel like he was Brett’s other half.

  He couldn’t recall when he’d become so love-starved, so insecure that being Brett’s main priority had become such a necessity for JT. He wasn’t aware it was a concept he even believed in—belonging to Brett and Brett belonging to him. Maybe it was the whole messed-up romantic expectation he’d developed that threw him for a loop. There seemed to be an awful lot that he suddenly didn’t understand about himself, so how could he honestly expect Brett to figure out his needs?

  “Johan, Darlin’. I was worried about you. It’s raining like the dickens out there.”

  Millie practically threw herself at JT, and he was fine with that. Brett’s hand slipped free when JT hugged his mama to him. Her familiar perfume wound round his head, and he was instantly encased in a warmth he could only associate with family… chosen family.

  When she released him from her fragranced grasp, she went straight to Ray, tilting her head to the side so he could chastely kiss her cheek. JT snuck a peek at Brett, curious to see his reaction because it was still new for him. But Brett smiled like the sun had crawled up his ass—have mercy, why were Ray’s words muddling up his head? That was just so wrong.

  “Let’s grab a seat,” Brett said to no one in particular. He winked at JT, a devilishly handsome twist of his lips lighting up his whole face. It made JT feel ten hundred feet tall, and the world seemed to settle on its proper axis again.

  They sat down at the round table Brett had chosen and the older couple immediately fell into a hushed conversation, their heads tipped close as they grinned and flirted with each other. It was cute as hell.

  “How was your day, Darlin’?” Brett leaned in to kiss JT’s cheek. “Sorry to leave you high and dry like that, or more like wet and wild in the storm, yeah?”

  JT faced him with determination, his last bits of composure clenched into one steely stare. He loved Brett with all his heart, but that didn’t mean he c
ould simply sweep his other feelings under the rug—or that his indecision and insecurity wasn’t making him feel a tad schizophrenic or even bipolar. “You had business to deal with this afternoon?”

  Brett licked his lips before replying. “Uh… yep.”

  “Didn’t you insist I have a cell phone just for those particular reasons?”

  Brett bowed his head, a blush coloring his cheeks while he brushed slow-moving fingers over JT’s thigh. He twisted their hands together on the table, then looked into JT’s eyes. “You know how forgetful I am. Sometimes I think Whiz’s got more capacity to think than I do.”

  He smiled that gentlemanly, crooked grin of his, and JT melted into the chair, all worry, and even thought, vacating his head… mostly. Brett was a master at sucking up and playing the aw, shucks card when he needed to.

  “Nice try, cowboy. So just out of curiosity, and the fact you risked my life letting Ray drive me through an inferno of rain—”

  “Don’t you need heat to have an inferno?”

  JT nudged Brett with his shoulder. “Stop changing the subject.” Yet he was okay with the switch since he was finding Brett completely distracting. He looked fantastic. He smelled good. He was good for JT. There’d be time later for grilling him, anyhow. “So who did you say was playing here tonight?”

  Shifting his gaze to the side, Brett spoke lower than usual—controlled and tight, like he was very carefully choosing his words. “Just an old friend who hasn’t been on the road in a while.”

  “Would I know who he is?”

  Brett shrugged, peering up through long lashes from under the brim of his dusty old hat. Good to know he hadn’t dressed up for the occasion. JT thought his propensity to do what he liked and not change for anyone was sweet, but at that moment his mannerisms and failure to give a straight answer were way too similar to Ray’s for his liking.

  Finally, Brett answered, “Not unless you’re into old farts singing country songs.”

  “Only one.”

  “Hey!” Brett feigned shock. He was so freaking adorable, way too much for a weathered old country singer. “That’s not very Valentinesy-Day-like.”