Ranch Manny - B.A. Tortuga Page 0,16

ended up here?”

“It’s a long story, sort of. The short version is that my girl’s mom got cancer and died. I’d already lost my job as a teacher, and Austin is expensive and crazy busy, and I lost the apartment. I have an ex up near Round Rock, and he offered to help me, but…” It was Trace’s turn to stare at his beer. “Susannah needs fresh air.”

He glanced at Harold, who looked at Curly, who shrugged. It wasn’t like Brent was the only gay man on earth, right? Trace could be too.

“Well, there’s plenty of fresh air here,” Curly said, not unkindly. “All right, folks. Nothing else y’all need me to do?”

When all three of them shook their heads, Curly grunted and hoisted up out of the chair. “Don’t want to be a party pooper, but I’m gonna take my boots off and watch TV through my eyelids.”

“Thank you for all your help today, sir.” Trace stood and shook Curly’s hand. “Seriously.”

“Anytime, son. You got a good head on your shoulders.” Curly shook, then waved at him and Hal before sticking his hands into his pockets and whistling as he wandered off.

“I’ll check on him before I hit the sack,” Harold murmured.

“Thanks.” Brent hated treating Curly like one of the children. The man had mostly raised him, though, so he had to look out for him. Had to.

Trace sat there, drinking his beer, obviously easy in his skin, which was marked in ink and metal and such under the worn burnt-orange hoodie. The man was fascinating to look at, and not in that freak show sort of way. In that surprisingly attractive way. Brent probably shouldn’t be looking so hard, but something about Trace did it for him, balls to bones. The trappings of Austin suited the lean, lanky body to the ground.

“Boss, I’m off. You need anything else?” Harold stood up, brushing off his jeans. “I need to warsh me some clothes.”

“Nope. Thanks for all your help.” He’d bet Harold and Curly both slept like logs.

Trace sighed softly, but it was a satisfied sound, a happy one.

“Feel better? I mean, the day had to start pretty sucktastic.” No one deserved to have a bad time like Trace had been working on.

“You have no idea. I was just going to go back to Austin and beg to sleep on a couch.”

“Life can get hairy when someone up and dies on you.” Some things never changed. “Did you stop teaching because of your baby mama?”

“Yes and no. Mostly no. She wanted a baby, and I was told if I wanted to keep my job, I needed to seem less gay, so we had Susannah. Problem was I still had a lover, and now I had a mixed-race baby, and a Black lesbian activist baby mama who was on TV marching along South Congress.”

“Oh.” Jesus. “That’s a bitch.”

“Right? Not exactly what the administration thought I’d do. Before I knew it, I’d lost my job, lost my lover, and lost Susannah’s momma, in that order.”

“Ouch.” That did sound complicated. Really. Wait. Less gay? He’d assumed bi. That was right, right? “So… So, y’all weren’t married?” He was just trying to make sure he understood, not making judgments. If Trace was gay, then maybe he should be looking some. Because God knew he was queer as a three-dollar bill.

Trace shook his head, refusing to look away. “No. No, we went the turkey-baster method. I’m not a perv. I’m a gay dad with an education degree that was trying to keep his job.”

“Oh man. That’s—that sucks. I can guarantee no one on this ranch will make a fuss that you’re gay.” It was important that Trace knew he would kick ass and take names. “I mean, since you’re family and all.”

“Fam—” Trace’s hazel eyes went wide. “Oh! I appreciate it. I’m a good teacher, good with kids, and your babies will be safe with me.”

“I believe you. Hell, they have to be safer with you than in a yard full of poison ivy. Speaking of which…” Brent sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I need to keep the kids home from Lisa’s until we can clear her yard.”

“Of course. Absolutely. I’m happy to watch them, keep them busy. What else do you need me to do? I’m willing and able.” Trace didn’t seem stressed out by that at all. In fact, he looked tickled as a pig in shit. Looked like someone was happy to have a job again. Brent got that. A