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  Chris, a fellow team roper and friend, stepped in front of him, rope in hand. “Mark left this sitting in the back of my truck.”

  Evan nodded and held out his hand. He needed to get a handle on this or his header would be taking out ads for stud service. “When Gus and I are done with the rodeo circuit we’ll talk about breeding him. Right now he’s the best roping horse on the circuit and I’m not about to—”

  Chris scoffed. “You mean the orneriest.”

  Gus snorted at Chris, blowing snot all over Evan in the process.

  “Ah, damn.” Evan held the phone away from his ear and took off his hat. He waved it around, trying to get the horse boogers off. “Hold on Mark, I—”

  Gus snatched the phone and danced backward in the stall, throwing his head up and down.

  Doubling over with laughter, Chris nearly dropped the rope.

  “Shit.” Evan wiped the mucus off his cheek, plopped his cowboy hat back on his head and held his hand out through the open space above the stall door. “Give me the phone.”

  Turning his head away, Gus gave Evan a perfect view of his long, sleek, black, muscled neck as if to say, “I can’t hear you.”

  Oh, please don’t make me beg in front of Chris. “Don’t ignore me. I said give me the phone.” Evan snapped his fingers, leaving his hand out. “Don’t make me come in there.”

  Gus side-stepped and hovered his mouth over the water bucket—the water bucket Evan had just filled—hanging from the side wall of the stall. Gus twitched his ears, making one go forward and the other back as he stared at Evan.

  “Whoa.” Evan held up his hands in surrender. This would be the second phone in three months that Gus had killed. If Evan didn’t know better, he’d swear Gus was jealous of Evan talking on the phone. The last time Evan had been trying to get directions to a date’s motel, Gus had snatched the phone, flipped it up into the air, let it fall, then stepped on it. “Come on, boy…please don’t.”

  Evan leaned over the stall door, slow and easy. He wasn’t afraid of startling Gus, Gus did not startle. But Evan knew damned well his horse would take any fast movement to mean “play time.” And if Gus thought Evan was playing, he’d drop the phone in the water for sure. “Please give me the phone…Pretty please, with sugar on top?”

  “I swear to God that horse has you by the balls. Never in my life seen a grown man plead with his horse.” Chris barked out between guffaws.

  “Shut up, Chris.” Evan grabbed the bars on each side of the stall door and hefted himself up. He threw one leg over the top and held his hand out to Gus. “Come on, Darlin’, give me the phone. That’s a pretty boy, give me the—” The toe of Evan’s boot got caught on the top plank of wood. There was no time for him to get it loose; he pitched forward, off balance. Closing his eyes, he held his hands out to break his fall.

  Chris scrambled forward and grabbed him by the belt.

  Hooves clicked, a puff of air passed Evan’s cheek and his face landed hard against warm hair.

  “Fuck me.” Chris whispered.

  Evan opened his eyes and saw nothing but black. He was suspended in the air, with his nose mashed into Gus’s back. “Ow.”

  Chris hauled him upright by the belt. That’s when Evan realized his other leg was caught between Gus and the stall door. He pushed at Gus, making him move over just a tad.

  “He saw you falling and tried to break your fall. Shit, that horse is too damned smart.”

  Evan smiled, patted Gus’s rump and hugged the horse’s back, not surprised one bit that Gus had kept him from face-planting. Gus was smart. And loyal to a T. He’d saved Evan’s stupid ass from falling a couple of times in the last three months. “Thanks, honey. Now give me the phone.” Evan crawled the rest of the way onto the stallion’s back, straddling him. He scooted up until he was practically on Gus’s neck, laid down flat and stretched his hand out as far as he could.

  Gus flipped his head and let go of the phone.

  Evan heard the plop sound that water makes when something is dropped into it and felt a drop on the back of his hand, then Chris burst into laughter again.

  “Damnit, Gus.” Evan groaned and dropped his arm, lying limply on his horse’s back. “We’re really going to have to have a talk about your hatred of cell phones.”

  Chapter Three

  Damn, that guy was hot.

  Ever since Evan had seen him two months ago in Dallas, he’d been seriously rethinking his stand on approaching men in honky tonks. The man was tall, broad-shouldered with a nice ass in a pair of painted-on Wranglers. Too bad the gray cowboy hat was always pulled down so low over his eyes. Evan was betting those eyes were coal black to match that swarthy skin. And boy did that tanned skin looked nice against that green shirt. Then again, it had also looked great in the red shirt he’d worn in Denver, the last time Evan had seen him.

  Evan took a swig of beer, tearing his gaze away from the bar and looking out at the dance floor. The last thing he needed was to get caught checking out the hot cowboy four barstools down. I wonder if he’s dark all over.

  He glanced over again and noticed the cowboy looking back at him. Evan dipped his chin.

  The man returned the gesture and took a drink of his beer before looking away.

  Evan told his libido to chill the hell out. Then again, maybe I should go over and… And what? He knew better, especially in this part of the country. Tulsa was way more conservative than, say, Dallas or Denver. Gay bars…okay, picking up men in honky tonks was a no-no. His gaydar wasn’t good enough for that. Hell, Mark was better at picking out gay men than Evan was, and Mark wasn’t even gay.

  Hmmm… Maybe he should have Mark take a gander at the guy? He was either a rodeo cowboy or a rodeo follower, because he’d been at the same bars Evan and his buddies had gone to in the last couple of months. All of those bars had been regular, good-ole-country-and-western bars, which in all likelihood meant the man was straight. Weren’t they all? At least ‘till you got a few drinks in them.

  Mark slid up next to the bar, a longneck in hand. “Rumor has it…” He looked around and leaned in close enough Evan could smell his woodsy aftershave. “There is a gay bar six streets over, near that Love’s store we filled up at when we came into town.”

  “And how did you find this out?”

  Mark chuckled, his eyes dancing with laughter.

  Ooh, this must be good. Evan pushed his friend’s shoulder. “Well?”

  “Jeff Benson, Brett Lahr and Dodger Craig wandered in by accident last night.” He shook his head and took a drink of his beer. “Damn, I’d love to have been there and seen their faces when they figured it out. Bunch of homophobic assholes.”

  Oh, now that had to have been a sight. “Bet they hauled ass out of there.” Evan grinned.

  “Oh yeah. Tracy Wade was with them. He said they didn’t let any grass grow under their feet after Lahr noticed all the guys were dancing with each other.”

  Evan winced. He suspected Tracy was gay himself. Good lord, if his buddies found out… Hell, Evan could be wrong, but it was hard not to notice Tracy scoping out other men and trying to pretend he wasn’t. It was surprising his friends hadn’t caught him at it. Unlike the other bull riders Tracy hung with, he seemed like a nice guy. He’d never actually spoken to Evan, but he always waved when he walked by. According to Doreen, Mark’s on-again off-again girlfriend, and her friends, he was shy and didn’t talk much.

  “What was that for?”

  “What was what for?”

  Mark took a swig from his bottle. “That grimace?”

  “Nothing.” No way was he telling Mark what he suspected, Mark would be trying to set him up with Tracy. Evan had been on too many of Mark’s blind dates not to know a disaster waiting to happen.

  “Hey, what’da ya think of the cowboy over there in the gray hat?”

  Mark scoffed. “Which one of the fifty in here are you referring to?”

  Evan elbowed him in the ribs. “To your left about four barstools down,
smart ass.”

  “Eh. He’s okay. I wouldn’t do him, but—”

  Evan elbowed his friend again, trying not to smile. “What do you know about him?”

  Mark chuckled. “Well, if I were a betting man—”

  “You are. What do you know?”

  “Well, I’d be willing to bet he’s gay, or at the very least open to the possibility.”

  Damn. How did he do that? More to the point, how the hell could he be so sure? “Quit being an ass, you can’t know that by just a glance.”

  Mark shrugged and took a swig from his longneck. “I’m not being a smart ass. I have no clue who he is but I’ve seen him before and the way he watches you when you aren’t looki—”

  “What? He watches me?” Evan leaned forward past Mark’s shoulder to peek at the man in question. He was staring off toward the band. “You’re so full of it.” Mark had to be shitting him. Wasn’t he? Hell, maybe Evan should go talk to the guy. Oh what was he thinking, Mark was fucking with him.

  “Would I do that?” Mark asked, feigning innocence.

  “Yes.”

  Laughing, Mark shook his head. “Get out of here, go by the bar I told you about. I’ll find my way back to the motel before tomorrow.”

  Evan cocked a brow. “Oh?” He surveyed the bar, trying to find the source of his friend’s good mood. Not that Mark wasn’t cool, he was, but still… The man must be planning on going home with some cowgirl.

  “Doreen.”

  Evan’s gaze shot back to Mark. “Yeah? Y’all are back together?”

  “For tonight anyway.” Mark wrinkled his brow, staring at the floor. “Not sure how I feel about that, actually. I don’t think I want anything permanent. Doreen’s fun and all, but…”

  But when they’d dated before, she was as carefree and easygoing as Mark. Mark needed someone to take him by the reins and give him focus. The man was all over the place. He needed a strong hand, someone to ground him. He needed stability. Doreen wasn’t that person, she needed to be taken care of as much as Mark did. Lord knew Evan tried to take care of the man, but it was damned near a full time job, and Evan couldn’t do it full time. Mark and his scheming plumb wore Evan out. He slapped Mark on the arm.

  Mark snapped out of his daze. “Get out of here.” He shoved Evan toward the door.

  Evan glanced back at tall, dark and handsome one last time. If he couldn’t have that, he might as well take what he could get. He held up his arms in surrender. “Okay, I’m gone. Have fun.”

  It looked like every country and western bar Evan had ever been in. It smelled the same too, like cigarette smoke, beer and sawdust. The band was decent, although a bit loud. They were playing an old Alabama song at the moment. It was easy to see how those bull riders would’ve come in and sat down before noticing there were no women. No, that wasn’t true. Evan noticed right away that there were only men on the dance floor, but maybe he was looking for it. It could probably be overlooked if one were headed straight for the bar. The bar ran perpendicular to the doorway and was the first thing you noticed upon entry. Not to mention the place was dark and cloudy with smoke. Although the name of the bar, The Neon Rainbow, should have been a dead giveaway. Then again, he supposed an Alan Jackson fan wouldn’t think much of the name, since Alan had a song called “Chasing that Neon Rainbow.”

  Evan sauntered in and took a seat at the big, dominating wood bar. If it weren’t for the assortment of neon signs around the mirror behind the bar, the place would’ve brought to mind an old saloon.

  “What’ll it be?” The bartender wiped down the bar in front of Evan.

  “Bud Light.”

  The man dipped his head and walked off down to the end of the bar. He bent over and came up with a longneck. As he headed back, Evan pulled the billfold out of his back pocket.

  “Five dollars.” The bartender twisted off the cap and slid the beer across the smooth dark surface right to Evan.

  “Thank you.” Evan tossed a five down on the bar and put his wallet up.

  The bartender took the money and stepped away, already talking to another patron.

  Evan snagged his beer and turned on his barstool, surveying the crowd. Two big ole rough-looking cowboys two-stepped their way past and Evan grinned. He could just imagine Benson and his group of friends sitting down, ordering a drink then turning to find a very similar sight to the one Evan was now watching. Oh, to have seen the look on their faces… Evan took a drink, still smiling. He got a vision of them looking like cartoon characters with their eyes popping out of their heads and chuckled.

  The back corners of the room were pretty dark. A short, stocky cowboy pulled another tall man toward the back wall. Hmm, there looked to be back room, well not actually back, more like a side. It was across the dance floor on the other side of the bar. The two men he just saw disappeared behind a black curtain. Evan had heard about them, but he’d never been in one before. Most the bars he went to were pretty much just a place to drink and meet people. If couples wanted to get to know one another better, they usually went to the restroom, although Evan had been in a few places where people didn’t even bother trying to make it that far. He’d always been too picky. Anonymous sex wasn’t his thing. He took a long pull from his bottle as he watched another couple, who were hanging all over one another, practically fall into the room.

  Damn, that was kinda hot, maybe he’d had more beers at the other bar than he’d thought. Evan shook his head and drank down the rest of his beer. He’d been too long with nothing but his hand if he was thinking sex with a stranger was appealing.

  Turning back to the bar to set his empty bottle down, Evan caught a glimpse of gray and green in the mirror. His gaze locked with the reflection’s. Did the guy wink at him? Gray hat and green shirt. Evan dropped the bottle and whipped his head around so fast his neck popped. Ack. He stretched his head side-to-side as he searched the crowd. The bottle continued to clatter behind him on top of the bar, then stopped. Evan heard someone say “whoa, buddy,” but his attention centered on the vision at the edge of the dance floor.

  The tall man in a green shirt and gray hat had turned around and was walking away.

  Hot damn. It was the same man. Evan would recognize that frame anywhere. He’d been lusting after it for months now. A pang of excitement shot through him at the prospect of his cowboy showing up here and what it meant. If he wasn’t gay, then why else would he be here? Had he followed Evan?

  Evan stood and hurried after him.

  The gray felt drifted away, barely visible over a sea of darker hats, then it disappeared altogether into the crowd on the dance floor. Where did he go?

  A knot formed in Evan’s stomach. He couldn’t lose the guy…not now. Making his way across the dance floor, he dodged couples left and right. When he made it to the edge of the sawdust-covered wood planks he searched the tables.

  In the corner booth, two guys were making out, both were bare-headed. There were a couple of men standing around a table, but all of them had on dark hats. A man in a gray hat sat at the table next to that one, but it wasn’t his cowboy, the guy was wearing a denim shirt. Another light-colored hat, Evan couldn’t tell if it was white or gray because it was under the blue neon bathroom sign. Even from that distance Evan could tell it wasn’t who he was looking for anyway. Tall, dark and handsome was nowhere in sight. Where could he have gone? The restrooms were the opposite direction from which the man headed. Did that mean… Evan glanced toward the black curtain. It was still swaying back and forth.

  The unease of seconds ago grew into a tickle way down deep in Evan’s belly. He was certain the man had winked at him. Which meant he’d come here to find Evan, didn’t it? Evan’s prick began to fill, well on its way to hard. God, he’d had a hankering to get himself a piece of that man since he’s laid eyes on him a few months ago in Dallas.

  No time like the present. Evan headed toward the back room, his chest getting tight with anticipation. If he were completely honest with himself, he was a litt
le nervous too. He’d never done this before. But if his cowboy were in there waiting for him… He hesitated just a few seconds, then pushed through the heavy black material.

  The smell of sweat and sex hit him before he let the curtain fall closed behind him. The sound of skin slapping against skin wafted up over the sound of the band. In the dim light he could make out bodies writhing together, some against the walls of the narrow, long room, others in the middle of the floor.

  Evan stepped around a couple just inside the door, screwing against the wall, and made his way through the narrow room, trying not to look as shocked as he felt. This was the stuff he fantasized about, but he’d never had the guts to do anything like it. He was just a small town boy. Grunt and groans filled the narrow space. Evan stepped over the feet of a guy who knelt on his knees giving a blow job, and walked deeper into the room. It was dark, with only a single dim, red-colored bulb near where he’d entered. Evan was having a harder time seeing the farther back he went. On the other hand, there weren’t many light-colored hats, most men seemed to prefer black, like Evan’s Resistol.

  Spotting a pale shape, Evan stopped and squinted. The man leaned against the wall, stroking himself, watching the couple next to him. Turning his head he caught Evan’s gaze. He grinned and dipped his chin. It wasn’t the right man.

  Shaking his head, Evan averted his attention toward the other wall. Thank God it was dim in here ‘cause he knew, sure as shit, he was blushing. He was hard as a fucking rock, too.

  Where are you? Evan started walking again, trying not to make eye contact. He was in here to find one man in particular. If he didn’t find him… well, he might stay and watch the goings on, but he was dead set on locating his mystery man. After all the nights of fantasizing about the man as he jerked off, Evan was determined to at least talk to the guy tonight.

  Searching back to his left, Evan spotted another pale-colored hat. It appeared to be hanging on the wall. The men next to it were ripping at one another’s clothes. Was that a green shirt, that guy just unsnapped? Evan squinted, stepping a little closer. His foot caught on something, a boot from the looks of it, and he pitched forward.