New Tricks Read online

  Copyright © 2019 J.D. Light

  Edited by Ann Attwood Editing and Proofreading Services

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

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  Chapter One

  August

  I sighed, desperately wishing I could just lay my head down and sleep, but I was pretty sure the man who'd just served me my fourth cup of coffee, wouldn't much care for me passing out on his table. He seemed like a super nice guy, but that kind of thing looked bad.

  Another yawn took me, and before I knew it, I was jerking awake when my head started to loll to the side, making it clear that I'd dozed off to anyone who might be looking on.

  I glanced around, noting that mostly everyone was ignoring me. Everyone except the sweet, but sassy girl who was actually my waitress. She smirked, making her way in my direction.

  "Reynolds keeping your coffee cup filled? You need anything else to help keep you awake. I know it's before seven, but I have pie if you want it." She leaned forward, bracing her hands on the table, and I tried not to flinch away, but I did a little.

  The last thing I wanted right then was for some waitress to get a crush. I didn't want to draw that kind of attention. I'd prefer it if I didn't draw much attention at all… except maybe from someone who could give me a job.

  "Yes, ma'am. You wouldn't happen to know where the best place to stay is around here, would you? Is there a hotel in this town?"

  Her eyebrows rose immediately. "I gotta say, nobody has ever been that direct before."

  It took me far too long to understand what she was talking about, and realize what I had said to cause it, and when I did, my face flamed… along with my ears and neck. "I wasn't… that's not what I meant. Well, I meant it, but not the way it sounded." The bell over the door rang, drawing her attention away from my rambling, and I nearly sighed in relief.

  I turned to look in the same direction almost absently, but even before I turned my head back in the direction of the waitress whose name tag read Manda, it was snapping back to the door, and the gorgeous black man who'd paused just inside, looking around, a bright, beautiful smile on his face.

  My heartrate spiked and my stomach dipped. He raised his hand in greeting to several people, obviously well known around the area. He was wearing boots and jeans and a clearly old, but clean jacket. Reaching up, he pulled his hat off, pressing it against his flat stomach as he continued to scan the room.

  He was older than me, probably in his late thirties, early forties, but he looked like he probably spent a lot of time outside working, if the clean, but definitely worn clothes that molded to his hard-earned muscles were anything to go by. My eyes had a mind of their own as they moved over him again and again, each pass coming up with something new I wanted to look at.

  I swallowed hard, making a strange sound in my throat.

  "Oh, I see," Manda said, amusement in her voice.

  I turned to find her smiling down at me before tilting her head toward the door… and where I knew the hot older man was still standing, because though I was looking directly up into her eyes, I was extremely aware of him being in my peripheral. In fact, I was aware of him turning and looking in my direction and lazily making his way to the only free table in the entire café. The booth next to mine. The booth that I was facing.

  "What?" I asked, my eyes going wide as I thought about the consequences of being found out in a small town, the events leading to me departing the last place I called home in the middle of the night with a duffle full of my belongings and little cash still far too fresh not to be a little freaked.

  "Oh," she said, leaning closer to whisper. "Don’t worry. I won't tell anyone if you don't want, but Haven Hills isn't near as bad as you might be thinking for such a little town. Most people around here would treat you right, no matter what."

  I nodded, my eyes skittering around the room as I tried to see if our conversation was being overheard by anyone.

  "Thanks," I whispered, relaxing back into the seat marginally.

  She reached out, patting my shoulder before pointing at my coffee cup. "You drink anymore and you're going to vibrate out of the seat."

  I gave her a small smile, rolling my eyes. "If I get any less, I'm going to fall asleep in this seat."

  "Just don't have a caffeine-induced heart attack in that seat or something." She glanced back down into my cup, apparently checking its fill level before sauntering off.

  I tried not to look over at the booth I knew the tall dark cowboy was sitting in, but my eyes moved all on their own, and I found myself meeting the prettiest brown eyes I'd ever seen. I gasped, looking away quickly, and probably looking like an idiot.

  The bell on the door rang again, but I didn't dare look up, instead, preferring to read the specials menu propped up between the ketchup and the napkin dispenser on my table.

  I didn't see him move, but somehow, I felt it. I knew the moment he entered the four feet of space surrounding me, and I let my eyes move over to him, traveling slowly up his denim-covered thighs to his narrow hips and… wow, that was… a lot.

  He cleared his throat and my eyes snapped to his, my face heating immediately. I licked my lips, hoping he didn't realize I'd been checking out his package. I did not want to get beaten up by some guy I was already spinning fantasies about in my head in a town I'd only just arrived in less than two hours ago. I didn't think that would make a great first impression in a small town, and I didn't have anything left in the way of energy to start traveling again. Not to mention I barely had enough money left after that bus ride for a night's stay in a cheap motel.

  I wasn't really sure what I was going to do beyond the one night. I didn't even have a vehicle to stay in.

  "You mind if I sit here?" he asked, his deep voice strangely soothing when I'd have sworn I was way beyond being soothed. "Harriet probably doesn't need to be standing for long periods of time. She just had surgery on her hip last week."

  He pointed over his shoulder toward the door, and a little old lady with a paisley print cane hobbled toward the table he'd just vacated.

  "Sure," I said, quickly waving my hand toward the booth seat directly across the table from mine, doing my best not to stare as he smoothly lowered himself into the seat and slid in halfway, but I failed miserably, somehow earning a sexy crooked smile when the man caught me watching him.

  "Sorry," I said, blushing. "I keep dazing out." A yawn surprised me, adding authenticity to my lie that was a bit true. "I probably need to find a hotel or something, but I was hoping to make it to the feedstore when it opens."

  He frowned, glancing out the window. "You have cattle or horses around here somewhere?"

  He turned back to me when it became clear that he hadn't missed a stock trailer parked outside full of cattle.

  I shook my head, giving him a small smile. "No, but I heard that the man who runs the store always posts job listings for ranch hands."

  He blinked hard, watching my mouth for a moment. "Oh. You're looking for a job at a ranch?" he asked, finally looking up into my eyes. When I nodded, he leaned forward on the table, crossing his arms. "Got any experience?"

  I chuckled, shrugging. "It's what I've been doing basically my whole life. My dad used to own a ranch about three hundred miles from here, and I worked for him from childhood on until he sold it when I was twenty-two. The man he sold it to kept me on for the last three years, but… things didn't end well."

  Not well at all.

  I hadn't meant to reveal that particular part. Now, if I found a job with one of the ranches around h
ere, he might possibly tell them I had a falling out with my old ranch, and it would be completely reasonable to wonder and even ask what exactly had happened. I'd just planned on telling them about my time with my father's ranch.

  Maybe this man would forget that part. Or maybe he'd be a decent guy and not mention it to anyone since it wasn't really any of his business.

  "Ah," he said, giving me a sympathetic smile. "So, three hundred miles? Why so far?"

  I licked my lips, meeting his eyes. "It was for the best I get away."

  He leaned forward again on the table, tilting his head to the side. "Was it that bad?"

  I sighed, pursing my lips. It wasn't something I particularly wanted to talk about, but I found myself sharing parts of it with him anyway. There was just something about his dark-brown eyes that made it seem like he was genuinely interested, and not just for the drama factor. Almost like he actually cared.

  Which was completely ridiculous, since I didn't even know his name, and he didn't know mine.

  "It was mostly humiliating," I grumbled finally. "I… started a relationship that I shouldn't have, and believed it was something it wasn't."

  I couldn't tell him it had been the prodigal son of the man who'd bought my father's ranch. The son who, even after he stole ten thousand dollars from his father and then disappeared into the night, his dad had welcomed back without even an apology.

  I hadn't learned that part until we'd already been dating a while, and it had been from his brother. I'd heard him, but I hadn't heard him. I'd been too excited about having my first actual relationship that I didn't have to sneak away into the city to enjoy, and thought he was just being bitter because he had to share their father's attention.

  How wrong I'd been. The truth was, Branson knew how Martin was. He was fake and hateful. When Martin had been caught forcing me up against a wall, trying to make me kiss him when I'd refused, because I was done with our relationship, even with me being the one who'd initially been assaulted, he'd spun it so that I'd been the aggressor. I'd all but forced him to do all that stuff.

  The worst part? Even though I'd been working there for three years without one incident of bad or inappropriate behavior, and Martin had a history of both, my boss had believed him. Everyone had... except Branson.

  Martin hadn't even said one word to me as I was leaving. Branson had stopped me half way down the quarter-mile-long driveway to give me a ride to wherever I needed to go, even pausing before we pulled out onto the road, so I could look back at the house I'd lived in nearly my entire life, but it didn't even look the same anymore with all the painting and add-ons… and the black cloud of betrayal hanging over it, so I asked him to take me to the bus station and googled ranches a state over, finding several right here in Haven Hills.

  "I see," the man said sympathetically, nodding his head. "Do you do cattle or horses? And what about your family?"

  And just like that, he moved on, not even trying to drag the story out of me, even though it was pretty obvious there was a doozy there.

  "Both actually. My dad was strictly cattle, but when Ray bought the place, he also brought in some horses, so we were doing that too. He was hoping to raise racing stock. Before the shit hit the fan, I had actually basically been in charge of the horses' care."

  "Ray? Ray Wilkins? Falling Acorns Ranch?" he asked, tilting his head to the side and squinting his eyes at my face. When I nodded, he smiled big and bright, and I could have sworn I heard angels sing with how much it brightened the room and my gloomy spirits. "That would make you Mark Carter's boy, right?"

  "Yeah," I said blinking. "You know my dad?"

  "Not a ton, but back not long after I first got started… probably about eighteen, nineteen years ago, I went out to the Falling Acorns to buy some bred heifers, and he sat me down and went over basically everything I'd need to keep my head above water as much as possible. You have no idea how much his advice has come in handy over the years."

  That sounded just like my dad. Always willing to help someone out because he genuinely wanted to see them succeed.

  "Yeah," I said smiling sadly. "He's pretty great. He and my mom are out seeing the world now. He promised her a long time ago that if he built the ranch enough, he'd sell it and take her around the world. I think they held off on that for a long time because of me.

  "My dad knew I loved ranching, and he thought I might want to run it someday, but at the time, I still wasn't sure that was what I wanted to do with the rest of my life, and I knew how much my mom had been dreaming about all of the places she wanted to go and all the things she wanted to do. She used to keep this journal, and I'd watch her add pictures and articles to it all the time. It was a little scrapbook of her dreams. Dad had already lived his dream, so it was her turn. Especially, since I didn't even know what I wanted to do with my life."

  I yawned again, covering my mouth. "Dang, I might need to get up and move around. Not to mention pee."

  "Have you eaten?" he asked, looking down at my half-empty coffee cup and frowning.

  "Not a good idea at the moment. If I get warm food in my stomach, I really will fall asleep right here."

  He raised a dark eyebrow at me, one side of his mouth kicking up, drawing my attention once again to his lips. "How the hell are you supposed to convince some rancher that you'd make a good hand if you're yawning in their face like that."

  I pursed my lips and rolled my eyes. "I don't really have a choice."

  "Why don't you eat, and I'll take you out to my place. You can get some sleep and then help me with the evening chores as payment for a room tonight, and you'll feel much better for job hunting tomorrow."

  My mouth opened and another weird sound came out as I blinked across the table at the man. "Why would you do that for me?" I asked, when I was finally able to get my brain and mouth to work in tandem.

  "Well, I really am grateful to your dad for all that advice back then. The least I can do is help his son out when it's pretty clear the last few days have been shit for you. Plus, I remember this cute little kid, though he was kinda a little asshole. The whole time I was talking to Ben, he'd run through the living room and shoot at us with a nerf gun. At the time, I had a three-year-old at home, and I thought, Someday, Wellston is going to be running through the house shooting me with shit. He didn't. Though he did throw one of his books at my head one day when I suggested he get outside and see a bit of the sun when he'd been sitting in the same spot for nearly five hours straight while he read. Kid had pretty good aim, but I think he nearly threw his shoulder out."

  I chuckled. "I actually think I might remember that. I hit you in the eye once, didn't I?"

  "Not just the eye, like, you hit me in the eye socket. You hit me in the eyeball. I had to wear an eyepatch for two days and Wilder kept calling me Matey and asking me where I hid me booty."

  I tried to cover my laughter, but the delirium of being up pretty much forty-eight hours straight, if you didn't count the ten-minute nap I'd had on the bus before the guy with the grabby paws sat down next to me. I hadn't dared fall asleep after he slid his hand up my thigh. I'd pulled my duffle into my lap and waited for the longest bus ride in the history of bus rides to be over.

  "I'm sorry," I said, wiping my eyes. "I really was a little asshole."

  "Have you told your dad yet?"

  "He already knows I'm an asshole."

  He chuckled, shaking his head. "I mean have you told him about what happened?"

  I sobered, shaking my head and looking down at the table. "Not yet. They're somewhere in Italy right now. They're supposed to check in tomorrow, but I don't know what I'm going to tell them. They don't know…"

  My head snapped up and I blinked quickly, suddenly realizing I'd been about to spill to him that I was gay. I'd never openly told anyone that I was gay. Not even the men I'd been with. Martin had somehow figured it out, and the other men I'd been with, I'd picked up in a gay bar. There was never any reason to say the words. I wasn't sure how Martin had figur
ed me out. Maybe he caught me looking at one of the other hand's asses too long or something.

  It hadn't been his, since I hadn't initially been attracted to the man. I wasn't really sure if I'd ever been into him. I think I'd just been happy to have someone pay attention to me in that way that was right there.

  "They don't know what?" he asked earnestly, his eyes soft as they met mine. When I hesitated, he gave me a small smile, reaching out to pat my hand where it rested on the table. "You don't have to tell me if you aren't comfortable, but there isn't much you could tell me that would make me not want to help you."

  I doubted that, but I definitely wasn't going to say so. Regardless of what Manda had said, I grew up in a small town. I knew how quickly people could turn on you when they found out how different you were.

  "Thank you," I said anyway, giving him a small smile."

  "Well, why don't we go ahead and get something to eat, and then I'll take you to my house and let you get some sleep." He patted my hand again, before squeezing it. "No matter what, I need you to know that you have a least one person in this town that you can count on, okay? Nobody should have to feel alone, ever."

  I felt the emotion rising in my chest and my throat clogged with it as my eyes pricked. My shoulders sagged in relief and I swallowed hard, meeting his gaze with moisture already brimming in my eyes. "Thank you… uh. Wow, I guess I didn't get your name."

  How the hell had I nearly told him my entire messed-up story and I didn't even know his fucking name?

  "Byrum. Byrum Rodgers. And you're Jefferson, right? Jefferson Carter?"

  "Yep." I nodded, licking my teeth. "I would ask how you could possibly remember that, but I guess it's not that hard to remember the name of the punk who maimed you and caused you to be ridiculed by your peers."

  Chapter Two

  I stifled a groan as we made our way up the front steps of my house, watching his ass. Why was I so fucking stupid? I was never this dumb. I'd asked this kid to come stay in my house with me, knowing full well I was entirely too attracted to him to be sharing the same roof.