Justice, “JT” Weatherford has a busy life running a bull riding company and helping out with his adoptive dad’s enormous ranch operation. So busy, in fact, that he’s never had time to worry about what his recent DNA test might tell him, which turns out to be a bombshell. He’s also never had time for a full-time love life, but as things in his life change, he wonders if that’s been a mistake, especially when he has someone as special in his life as Keaton Schaffer.
Keaton has just gotten an exclusive deal with a rodeo company to be their entertainer, and suddenly he’s seeing a lot more of JT. He loves that idea, but he has a few secrets of his own, and he’s just learned that JT might be related to his boss. Can JT and Keaton learn how to take what they have to the next level, or will they just let the road, and all its secrets, keep them apart?
Chapter 1
“Goddammit, boys! You lose that heifer and I will personally skin you both!” It never ceased to amaze Justice how if you added one dipshit to a lazy son of a bitch, you ended up with something like a nuclear explosion of idiocy.
“Sorry, boss!”
“Yes, sir, JT! We got this.”
“You’d better. Y’all don’t want me to get Dan out here.”
A husky chuckle filled the air, his ride or die leaning against the duallie. “Tell me why we’re here instead of heading toward Nashville again, JT?”
“Because our business partner called and said it was time for us to get our butts to the ranch?” He didn’t take his eyes off the drovers to answer. Bronco hadn’t changed appreciably since they were sixteen. The tall, gangly redhead wasn’t going to have gotten better looking in the last ten minutes.
“Don’t you mean Daddy Dan?”
“I do.” One didn’t negate the other. Daddy needed his help, and he had something to bend the man’s ear about too. Something he needed to talk on before they headed to Santa Fe.
“You don’t need to invoke him to put the fear of God into these kids, you know. They’re plenty scared of you.”
“Bronco, if you worked as good as you talked, we’d have a lot more done and we could go have a beer with our supper,” Justice teased.
“We’re the bosses. We’re not supposed to be working. We’re supposed to have nubile young men feeding us peeled grapes and sucking our—”
“Bronc,” he warned.
“Toes.”
“Uh-huh.” He chuckled, muscling a gate into place. They’d finally got the cows and heifers separated, and he was ready to go shake this damn dust off his boots. “Good work, guys. That’s the last of them. Get me a good head count and make sure everyone gets fed and watered.” His dad had bought this new load to add to the breeding stock, and they had to quarantine for a bit.
They swung up into the truck, Bronco behind the wheel. “I’m going to head home, JT, get a shower and a nap. We doing supper at six?”
He nodded and stretched. “Yeah, drop me off at the main house, and I’ll get the Brousseurs to start laundry.”
“Good deal. Jenna said she went in and dusted my place too. I hope she didn’t dig through my porn.”
“Oh gag. Do not say porn and that saintly woman’s name in the same sentence.”
Jenna and Jack had been with the Weatherfords since before he could remember. They hadn’t been able to have babies, so they’d been his godparents, and they still took care of dad while he was on the road.
“Yeah. Come to think of it, that was ew.” Bronco laughed, shaking his head. “Okay. Six it is. Say hi to your dad for me.” Bronco dropped him off a few minutes later, and he was damn glad to see the big house and feel like he was home for a few days, at least.
His dad had broken his ankle in a groundhog hole, two weeks ago, and Justice figured that this whole thing was more a request for him to come home than anything real work-related.
It worked for him. He needed to go home, have a nap and a chat and a good steak, visit with his dad and watch NCIS together through their eyelids.
“Jay! Jay, welcome home, buddy!” Jenna grabbed hold of him and squeezed him tight. “Your daddy will be so glad to see you. He hates being in a boot.”
“I get that.” He’d had more than his share of injuries when he’d done his stint as a championship bull rider. Now he was on the other side of that, running the shows and making sure bull riders got paid well for their skills. “It’s good to be home. How are you doing?”
“Oh, living the dream.” She winked at him, her dark eyes twinkling. “Your daddy is in the office. I bet you have a ton of laundry.”
“Just a bit. Thanks, lady. I have some stuff for you once I get my bags unpacked.”
Her cheeks flushed. “Well, that can wait. You go on and see your daddy.” She took his duffels. “I got this. Love you.”
“Love you more.” He blew her a kiss and headed into his dad’s office. He’d grown up in this room.
Momma had married Daniel Weatherford when Justice had been a year old, and he didn’t know another father. Daddy had adopted him on their first anniversary, and had raised him, loved him, been his rock.
And when Momma had gotten cancer two years ago, going from diagnosis to grave in six weeks, they’d had to be each other’s rock, and he thanked God for it. She’d been the glue that had stuck them together in the first place, but years of love had made that bond unbreakable.
He knocked on the office door before he let himself in. “Hey, old man. I brought that shipment of stock home for you.”
“Jay! There you are.” Daddy levered himself up out of his rolling chair. “Good to see you, son.”
“Sit. Sit.” He went over and took a hard hug. “How are you feeling, old man?”
“Old. This damn ankle is a bitch and a half. I told Jenna to make up some chocolate chip cookies today.” Daddy sat hard, shaking his head. “I tell you what, it’s good to see your face. How’s it going? The bulls bucking like they ought?”
“Hell yes. T873? That son of a bitch is on fire. They’re loving on him.”
“Good deal.” Daddy smiled, but new lines were etched on his face. That ankle was hurting him.
“Yep. You know if she makes cookies, Bronco will be here early, munching on them.”
“That boy. So how are you?” Daddy waved to the chair opposite his desk.
“Been busy, but pretty good. I have to admit, I’m not sad to be missing Nashville. I was hunting a reason to come home and see you.” He eased himself into his chair, feeling his bones settle. God knew there was no place like home.
“I’m always willing to fake a reason, son. No question.” Daddy’s smile was wide, and he propped his foot up with a groan.
“You got any of them pain pills, Daddy?”
“Eh, it ain’t that bad. Just twingey. I know you know how that is.”
“Yessir. I do know.” But Daddy wasn’t getting younger. And there was no shame in helping a body out when it was trying to heal. So he would hunt up the meds. “So tell me all.”
“We’re making good money on the stock contracting, and the show is booked through the next three years, so you’re on point, there. It’s making a profit—we’re not setting the world on fire or anything, but we’re running in the black.”
“Good deal.” He met his father’s gaze head on. “I’m working hard for you, old man.”
“You always do. So tell me, son, what’s on your mind?”
“How did you know?”
“You have your tells. I’ve known you since you were tiny. Something’s wrong. Tell me about it and we’ll fix it.”
“Nothing’s broke, old man.” To be perfectly honest, Justice didn’t think there was anything to fix.
“Well, that’s good news, I guess, but there’s something on your mind, and I can tell it.”
“Pretty much. You know how I took one of those DNA test deals a few months ago? Well, I got the results.” He couldn’t quite meet his father’s eyes, but the gasp of shock that he heard had him staring over.
Daddy’s eyes were wide. “Oh my God, are you gonna tell me that I’m not your daddy?”
It took a minute of him gaping like a fish before Daddy started cackling at him.
Justice rolled his eyes. That man could take him, every time. “Lord have mercy, man. You startled me.”
“Well, you just seemed so damn serious. I mean, are you related to a serial killer or something? Are you a bad seed?”
“Oh, yeah, absolutely.” Wouldn’t that be fun as hell? “No, I’m not going to tell you that, although I wish I could. What I am going to tell you is that I got a DNA match from his side of the family. The paternal side.”
Daddy’s eyes went wide, the gaze sharp. “No shit?”
“I shit you not.”
“Did you get a name? Do you know who it is?”
He leaned back and asked the same questions he’d asked since he knew he was adopted. “Did you know my sperm donor? What did mom tell you?”
Daddy sighed and offered him a bittersweet smile. “The same thing she’d told you — she had a one night stand with a bull rider. It was quick and dirty, consensual. She was on the pill. She was five months pregnant with you before she ever even knew what was going on.”
It was the exact same story he’d heard for his whole life. It was really weird to think that his mom had been somebody who had one night stands.
Gross.
“Yeah, well, I think I know who he is. He was a rodeo guy, a Brazilian bull rider.”
“Well, is that good? I mean…are you gonna go see him?” Daddy leaned forward, seeming just about to bust with curiosity, and he understood that.
“Well, that would be good, if I could. I mean, I could visit the cemetery, but…” He stopped and gave his daddy a look. “Think I’d probably be better off going to see my half-brother.”
“Ah.” Daddy sat back, crossing his hands over his belly. “What does he do, this guy?”
“Well, he runs a rodeo company.”
Daddy’s gaze sharpened. “Huh. Which one?”
“It’s Ryder Chiara. Leme. Whatever. My sperm donor was Eduardo Leme.”
“Whoa.” Daddy rocked back in his chair. “Damn, son. We—well, we work with them.”
“I know! I’ve met the son of a bitch and his husband a dozen times.”
And that was the issue, wasn’t it?
“Well, hell.” Daddy looked about as flummoxed as he felt. “So you’re gonna go talk to him, huh?”
“Is that bad?”
“Nope. Not one bit. I do think you need to know what you want out of it before you go.”
“Nothing?”
Daddy stared at him.
“I mean, I want to know him, I guess? To see if he knows about me?” To have a brother? He’d always wanted siblings.
“Okay. That’s fair. But you got to know he’s going to wonder what you want, so I just think it’s good too put that in your mind.”
“Yeah. I mean, I could be all corporate raider on his ass, couldn’t I?”
They both had a chuckle over that.
“You told Bronco about this?”
He shook his head. Bronco was his best friend, but the man did like to spread tales, and he wanted to keep this close to the vest.
“Good man. This is family business. You want to deal with it nice and easy.”
“That’s my thought too.” He wanted to be able to say he wasn’t telling tales out of school, too. “So…you think it’s okay? I mean, you don’t think I’m dumb?”
“For what? Telling the truth? Finding new folks to be family what?” Daddy eased his foot down, then leaned over him, holding his eyes. “I’m your daddy. I raised you. I taught you who to be. I loved you. No one can threaten that. You are my son, understand?”
That was what he needed to hear. Just that.
“Yes, sir. I hear you.”
Now he had to figure out what to do next, without blowing shit up.
Chapter 2
Casey Manchester did a little dance on top of the barrel, shaking his butt and trying to draw the attention away from the fact that the chute guys were having a shit time setting up for the bull riding.
There was no rodeo concert tonight or tomorrow. There was a special bull riding show instead, put on by Ranked Bullriding, Inc., and they had already started appropriating chutes and putting their shit in place.
Which was, if one asked Casey, a dick move.
Not that anyone ever asked him, despite the fact that he had been a bullfighter once himself…
A bad one who was a far better entertainer, admittedly, but still.
This was a little upstart event, he could tell, and it was maddening, how they just muscled in. That put riders at risk, and he knew his own bullfighters might open a can of whoop ass on the new guys.
He clicked his mic on private, calling over to Ginny, their sound guy. “What’s up with the after show? We’re not done.”
“Arena’s wanting everyone out by nine-thirty. It’s cramping everything.”
“Aw damn.” He couldn’t even be bitchy about the bull riding show guys then. “Do I need to talk to someone?” He’d been in law school just long enough to learn how to negotiate like a shark.
“Who? The lady that’s running things is like an HOA president…”
“Oh, Lord help us. Well, someone needs to let Slim know so he doesn’t tear heads off.” The head bullfighter would unload on someone given half a chance.
“Uh-huh. You’re closest. You and Peter…”
“Send Peter.” The safety man was less likely to get snarled at.
Plus, he was on the damn barrel…
He watched the show over on the chutes with half an eye, and after Peter went over to chat with a few folks, things started going more smoothly. They all stopped fighting each other and worked together.
It was always them against the townies, given the opportunity. He grinned, then cued his mic, because Parker Jacobson was talking to him, the announcer wanting his cooperation.
He climbed out of the barrel, shaking his ass, and mouthing off. That was his job, after all.
And they made it through the bull riding with no serious injuries, so he said a little prayer of thanks as he rolled his barrel in. He nodded at the man rolling out the barrel for the bull riding company, bang bang bang. That fast.
He headed toward his trailer, intent on ignoring the crowds and the cowboys. He had a headache and he needed a cool shower.
“Dammit, Cal, will you get the clearance for ten pm for tomorrow so we don’t have to do that again?”
Casey knew that voice. He hadn’t heard it for damn near a year, and it made the hair raise on the back of his neck.
“JT?” He turned to look, wondering if he’d lost his mind. JT Weatherford had retired from bull riding. That much he knew.
“Case! Man! What is going on with this event coordinator?” Those bright blue eyes landed on him like lasers.
“I don’t know. They say she’s an HOA president or something.” He went to shake hands with his old friend with definite benefits.
“Dude. I believe it. I got to get to work, but—you busy for…supper?” He got a definitely interested glance.
“Nope. Late night supper is always good. I was going to go grab a shower, but I can meet you or you can come to my hotel to get me.”
“I’ll come to you. I can bring something — this ain’t a late night town, friend.”
He snorted. “No shit. But there’s bound to be a drive through. works for me. I’m at the Roadside Inn. Room 104.” The place wasn’t the dump he’d worried it would be. It was pretty nice, an old pre-Interstate motel that had been refurbished.
“Good deal. I’m in 306. I’ll bring food.”
“Boss!”
“Sorry, gotta run. 104. Got it.”
“Later.” His heart was beating hard, his headache easing. Justice Weatherford. JT. Jesus. Talk about a coincidence.
But what was that about ‘boss’?
What was going on?
He checked the name of the bull riding company. “Ranked Bullriding Inc.” Okay, he was so looking that up while he waited for JT.
He slipped into his trailer, changed and washed his face clean, then he headed out to his truck, keeping his head down.
He didn’t mind his fans, but he was hot and tired and he needed a drink. The smile was going to slip.
Unmolested on his way to his vehicle, he drove to the hotel, more excited about the evening now that he wasn’t just going to be watching free HBO.
Oh…did he have condoms? Lube? Beer? All the good things?
He should stop at the convenience store at the truck stop just up from his hotel. That way if nothing presented itself to JT for food, they wouldn’t starve.
He grabbed Cheetos and condoms, Dr Peppers and Swiss cake rolls…
Oh, and a Snickers bar. He was hungry now.
He tore into that on the way to his room. Sugar and nuts. That would keep him going.
After a shower and some Tylenol to keep the headache from coming back, he sat on the bed with his laptop and a beer and did his research.
“Motherfucker.”
Ranked Bullriding is the brainchild of JT Weatherford and Bronco Bell, champion bullriders. They are backed by Weatherford Bucking Bulls and by Bell Industrial. They are focused on bringing quality bullriding competitions to the southwest and the west coast.
Huh.
Well, he’d be damned. He’d never had any idea JT even wanted to something like this. Not that he had to clear shit like that with Casey. They saw each other when they did and enjoyed the time together, but they’d never let it get beyond that.
Casey had to admit, he’d missed the man since JT had retired as a rider. So he should take advantage of tonight, huh? Since it might be a while before they crossed paths again.
“Okay, nut Case. Shake it off.” He said it out loud to make it ring in his ears. “You know he loves sex. You know he is generous as hell. This is the most fun you’ll have all week.”
He shook his hands and head like he was getting ready to work. That would get the blood pumping. Get him ready.
By the time the knock on the door came, he was shivering with anticipation and just about ready to turn JT inside out.
“Hey.” He smiled at JT when he opened up. “Something smells good.”
It was JT, not the food, but he’d keep that unsaid.
“Good. I brought burgers, fries, hand pies. Can I come in, man?”
“Hell, yes. And I got snacks just in case.” Though he’d eaten some in the truck. He did work off a ton of calories every show. He stepped back to let JT in, wanting to touch, but taking bags of food instead. God, it had been too long, obviously.
“Mmm…good deal.” JT closed the door, locked it, and put his hat down on the table.
His cock rose a little. “I bet you’re hungry, huh?”
“You know it.” JT never glanced away from him.
He set the food in the microwave and closed the door. “Come here?” They could warm that shit up later. Now he needed JT.
JT came right to him, muscling up against him, the little body solid as a rock. “Good to see you.”
“Good to see you too, JT. So damn fine.” And he reeled JT in for a kiss to prove how happy he was.
JT grabbed him behind the neck, and the kiss was so hard that his eyes crossed. His lips parted, his body hardening the rest of the way in a rush.
“Uhn.” That came out as they broke for air. Casey didn’t waste time. He just started on JT’s shirt.
“Mmhmm.” JT’s touch was like sandpaper, scraping along him and waking him up, top to bottom. It sent him up on his toes, made him grunt when JT rubbed his belly, then right down above his dick.
“Damn, you smell good. Love freshly showered cowboy.” JT never called him a clown.
Never.
“Yeah? Well, you know, I wanted you to be able to lick anywhere you wanted.”
“I do enjoy a thoughtful lover.” JT bit his bottom lip, tugged it hard. “Now, why the fuck are you still dressed?”
“Uh—” He blinked. “I was meeting you at the door.” But he could get naked fast. He was a physical kind of guy.
“Teasing, Case. Breathe. Seriously, breathe.”
“I’m trying. Been a while.” In fact, it had been his hand since the last time he’d been with JT.
“I hear that. Let me pop your cork real quick, then we can slow down.”
“Uh-huh.” His eyes crossed at JT got him out of his clothes. “Okay. Damn, honey.”
JT had the hands of a man that had worked his entire goddamn life, rough and callused and sure. And they scraped a little over his skin, making Casey pant.
That was so good he bucked and danced, just needing to come so he could think again.
“That’s it. Breathe, cowboy. Give it up for me. I want to see.”
“JT! Dammit. I wanted—” He grunted when JT stroked his cock hard, fast, setting a rhythm he couldn’t resist if he tried. He came hard, his whole brain shorting out.
“Fuck, you’re fine.” JT lifted his fingers to his lips, licking them clean.
Casey just wheezed for breath. “Worked myself up a bit, waiting for you.”
“I like it. I was tickled as a pig in shit to see your face.”
“You too.” He leaned on JT. “Bed, man? I can get behind round two before we eat. And let you have some fun too.”
“Mmm… I like how you think. I like it a lot.” JT offered him a naughty little grin.
“You always have, honey. How are you?” He chuckled at the ridiculousness of asking that now.
“Been busy, but I’m basically good.” JT stripped his boots off.
“Yeah? So you own your own company now, huh?” He pulled off his slightly mangled clothing.
“I do. I mean, me and Bronco do.”
“You went into business with Bronco?” His eyebrows rose nearly to his hairline. Was that wise? And what did that mean?
“Yeah….” JT frowned at him. “He’s a bit of a bitch, but he’s trustworthy, and he’ll work his ass off.”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to be dismissive. He’s always just seemed like a party guy.” He held up a hand, making peace.
“He is, but we don’t party together, you know? He’s not my type.” JT cast eyes on him. “But you are.”
“Now, that’s what I like to hear.” He winked. Better. Playful was good. He didn’t waste his time with JT getting in trouble for his big mouth.
“Mmhmm. Don’t want to talk about Bronco.” JT stepped right up, put one hand on his bulging cock. “Need you.”
He almost started singing about Bruno, but that might kill the mood. So he moaned, squeezing that fine piece of rope good and firmly.
JT groaned for him, and he did love that sound, didn’t he?
He did love how JT needed him. No shame, no bullshit, just. Hunger.
“This for me to play with?” he teased.
“Every fucking inch. The second I saw that you were here.” Those dark eyes burned into him.
“Mmm…my favorite toy.” He nodded toward the bed. “Strip down and stretch out. I want to take my time with you.”
After all, he only got to play this game once in a while, and Casey intended to win tonight.