left. Your room is the last one at the end of the hall.”
“Thanks. Good night, Shea.” He rolled the kinks from his shoulders and headed across the large space.
“Mr. Axelrod?”
He heard hurried footsteps and stopped, waiting for Shea to catch up with him.
“Yes?”
Shea’s uncertain blue gaze met his, and for a moment, Jake could’ve sworn the cowboy was nervous.
“Uh, I know this might not be what you’re used to, bein’ from New York City and all, but like I said, I was about to go and get a beer. Maybe you’d like to come? You could get that drink and somethin’ to eat.”
He was so surprised, he didn’t say anything, and Shea’s face fell. “I’m sorry. I overstepped. I’ll let you get to your room and relax. G’night now.” With a tip of his head, Shea left his side, his boots tapping across the polished wooden floor.
“Wait, Shea. Hold on.” Leaving his suitcase, Jake hurried to catch up with him. Shea slowed his steps. “I would, actually. Like to join you, that is. Can you give me a few minutes to put my things away?”
“Are you sure? Don’t want you to think I’m bein’ pushy.”
“We all need a push now and then.” The words tumbled out of his mouth before he had a chance to think.
Whoa. Where did that come from?
All the fresh air must be messing with his head.
Chapter Three
When Jake said he needed a few minutes, Shea anticipated he’d change out of his expensive suit and tie to put on jeans and a T-shirt. Not that he minded the suit. That man would look good in a paper bag…or nothing at all.
Shut it down, Shea. The man is married with a child.
But hot damn if he didn’t come out to meet him in that same sleek suit, only now sporting a tight black T-shirt that clung to every ripped cut and dip of his chest and abs. Jake could be a model with his hard-as-nails jaw, pale-green eyes, and thick, chocolate-brown hair shot through with gold, that looked like the heavens above were kissing him.
“Everything okay?” Jake asked when he reached the large leather couch Shea had parked himself on while he waited. “If you can’t go, I’ll understand.”
“No, not at all,” Shea said, trying not to breathe in the scent of Jake’s cologne. Creed. Of course he’d wear Shea’s favorite fragrance. The one that made him weak in the knees and ready to explode with desire. “I figured you’d probably want a better-quality restaurant than our local bar, so we can go to the Flame. It’s about a half-hour drive.”
They walked out of the ranch house and into the night, which had cooled down significantly from the heat of the day, and Shea was grateful for the shearling collar on his worn denim jacket. The air pulsed with the sound of crickets, and an owl hooted nearby. Jake stood transfixed, gazing around with wide eyes.
“Was that an owl?”
Shea chuckled. He’d been so wrapped up in his guest’s good looks, he’d forgotten where the man came from. “Sure is. He lives up in there.” Shea pointed to the big shade tree. “You’ll probably get a glimpse of him during your stay here.” They reached his pickup. “Climb on in.”
Jake hoisted himself up, and Shea started the engine and pulled away. After a minute of silence, Shea couldn’t stand it any longer.
“What do you do for the company? Have you worked for them long?”
Jake sat with his hands folded, gazing out of the window. “I’m the Human Resources Director. I’ve been with them for over ten years, since I got my master’s. I started out as a temp and worked my way up.”
“Impressive.” Shea swerved to avoid a possum running across the road.
“Shit, what was that?”
“Just a possum.”
They turned onto the main road, Gravel Pike, and from the sneak peeks he managed at Jake as they drove, the man was already busy on his phone.
Probably texting the wife that he got here safely.
They slowed for one of the two traffic lights, and up ahead, Shea could make out the sign for the Round Up. Being that it was Friday night, the parking lot was full and people milled about, catching smokes and chatting. Light and music from the live band spilled out into the night.
“What’s that place?” Jake pointed. “It looks like fun.”
Debatable. If your idea of fun was drinking tequila until you wound up drunk and sleeping in your truck with your body twisted like a pretzel, then