Ranch Manny - B.A. Tortuga Page 0,48

when he was a kid, but he hadn’t gone to the beach since before Susannah was born.

“We used to. Everyone came here, but now we’re all scattered.” Brent looked over at him. “I would love to have a thing. For Curly, you know. He loves to have all his old buddies out, and a barbecue would give them a reason.”

“Sounds fun. We could fill up a couple of kiddy pools for the little ones. Have all the fixins. Sparklers for the kids. It’ll be great.”

“You know it. I’m in. Thank you. You make it easy to want to do stuff. It just seemed impossible before.”

Brent gave him this look that made him wish burgers were finished and cleaned up and they were on their way to bed.

“You let me feel like part of a family. It’s all I ever wanted.” He loved being a father, and he adored the fact that Brent let the kids love him.

“Well, you are.” That was definite, wasn’t it?

The certainty warmed him to his toes, and it was pretty hot out there already. “This is the best burger. Mine never come out so well. Weird, huh?” He guessed everyone had that thing they didn’t do right.

“I grill and make breakfasts.” Brent rubbed elbows. “You make the best hot dogs, and I love your fried chicken.”

They’d stopped at the store and gotten all the things. He had a feast to make tomorrow, but he had a volunteer in Curly to boil eggs and peel potatoes. Curly told amazing stories, and the tension that had ridden the man seemed eased now.

Trace was glad. What Curly was going through was hard, but stress had made it so much worse, so much faster, so it was wonderful to know he was helping.

If he’d had any real doubts about Brent, about the gruff exterior, the care for Curly and those babies had erased it.

Brent mostly snapped at the day guys now. Trace grinned. They kept coming to the house begging food. He’d gotten used to the rhythm of their days—which were never once the same, but always seemed similar. Now, when a hand showed up at 2:00 a.m. wanting waffles because he was drunk? Then Trace let Brent kick some ass.

“Hey, baby, where’d you go?” Brent’s fingers stroked his cheek.

“I was thinking about your general hotness.”

“Oh, make me flex my muscles.” Brent kissed the corner of his mouth. “I think you’re hotter than summer in Texas.”

“Thank you. Last night blew my mind. You know how to make a man need.” He felt so brave, so daring, talking to Brent like this.

“Well, honey, you had me all hot and crazy.” Brent stroked down his neck. “Still do.”

“Good. Can I kiss you? I want to taste you.” Just in case Brent didn’t understand, he squeezed the man’s sweet package.

“Uhn. You can do whatever you want except run off.” Brent spread those hard thighs.

“I’ve got nowhere else I want to be.” He sucked in a deep breath and leaned in to take a kiss, diving in even as his hand still worked.

Brent moaned into his mouth, starting to rock slow and easy into his touch. Everything about Brent did it for him—from the stubble that rasped his chin to the hard cock pushing at his palm.

He loved that rough chin, the little mustache Brent had let grow in. Those blue eyes glinted in the night, shining for him.

Damn, so pretty. So hungry for him. He felt sexual as all get-out, fine and desirable.

Brent half turned and a plate slid off their laps and landed on the patio.

They both laughed, Brent stroking his shoulder. “I guess we clean up before we get busy, huh?”

“Yeah. We don’t need stray beasties on the porch. Can you imagine Susannah with a raccoon or a possum up here?” His baby was very new to all things outside.

“She would try to make it a pet.”

“Bite your tongue!” He kissed Brent one more time before grabbing plates and napkins and such. “Let’s get this stuff put away.”

“Mmm. Then maybe grab a shower, huh? Together?”

“That sounds like the best idea in a day of wonderful ideas.” He was so in.

“Something to look forward to.” Brent felt him up a little as they wandered inside.

The cleanup was easy, and Brent locked up while he checked on the little ones. They were sound asleep, and he wasn’t about to borrow trouble. He made a beeline for Brent’s room.

He stripped down, pulled out towels, and started the shower. Trace wanted some steamy goodness.

“Well, hey.”