Colorado Wild - Colorado Heart 1 (4 page)

"What's your blood type,
Tucker?"

"A positive."

"Marshal, I already know, but I'm just making sure."

"A positive." Marshal pulled off his shirt and tapped his arm.
"Hook us up."

"Will do."
Zander set up the tubing for donating blood between the two. He'd only done this one other time during training. By no means was it optimal. Tucker lay down on the floor and Marshal sat on the bed above him. Donating like this wasn't the best idea, but in a pinch it would do. Marshal flinched when he stuck him, but he said nothing as he watched his blood flow to Tucker.

"Just keep pumping your fist, Marshal. I'll try to judge based on time and not take too much."

"Thanks." Marshal smiled down at Tucker. "You owe me big time."

Tucker
smiled back. "I always do. Thanks, big guy."

"Anytime."

Zander waited ten minutes then disconnected the flow from Marshal first, pushing all of the blood in the tube into Tucker's veins. Tucker looked better, but he needed to rest and to eat some good food. After the blood transfusion, Zander gave Tucker a shot of antibiotics and some more pain medicine. He wrapped the wound and cleaned up the mess he'd made.

Marshal
stared up at him, his eyes unfocused for a second. "We sanitized the last hotel before we left?"

"Yes, our bags are in a locker at the
Leningradsky station. The area will clear by tonight and I'll grab them before we leave." Zander picked up the last of the items from the surgery and checked again. If he was going to leave the hotel room, he needed to make sure he had everything that needed to be thrown away.

"You okay?" Marshal asked.

"Yeah, I just hate having to operate. I'm not the best. I stitched him up, but it freaks me out every time."

"You did the best when we did medical training. I'd rather have you operate on me than any of the other guys."

Tucker snoozed peacefully, his breathing had evened out. "I'm glad it wasn't his guts that were damaged. It was only one vein and I think I closed it okay."

"I'm sure you did fine. He's lucky you were on the mission with us."

"He's going to have one hell of a scar."

"Yeah, but you know
Tucker, he'll spin some story to the girls and have them eating out of his hand."

Zander huffed out a breath and shook his head. "Yeah, but he never turns those great stories into anything."

"What do you mean?" Marshal asked.

"How many of those girls has
Tucker slept with?"

Zander stared at the sleeping man, noting the hard line of his jaw, his muscled torso and the
smattering of blond hair running down below the waistband of his pants. In all the years he'd know Tucker, the guy hadn't once been with a girl. He danced with them, flirted like crazy, even kissed a few, but at the end of the night, Tuck always went home alone.

"I'm headed out to find food. I'll be back soon."

"Hey Zander, don't say anything to Tuck about the girls."

"I won't. Call if trouble come
s looking for you."

Zander made his way back to the street then searched for a place to grab something warm with meat. None of them liked Russian food, but they needed to keep their strength up. Tomorrow morning, they'd
take a train to Saint Petersburg then exit to Finland. Once in Finland, they'd catch a flight to the USA. Tucker had to look good. If he looked sick by the time they boarded the plane, one of the flight attendants might say something.

The streets
had cleared some, but he didn't like the feeling he was getting from the city. He found a burger joint and ordered four to go. He picked up some chips and a few drinks. Tucker probably wouldn't want to eat, but he had to consume something or he wouldn’t get his color back.

Zander paid and hurried back to the hotel. Tucker was
awake when he came in. The man's eyes looked a little glassy and Zander prepped another dose of antibiotics for him. "Tuck, how 'ya feeling?"

"Like a truck ran over me." Tucker tried to sit up straighter but he barely moved. Marshal helped him before handing him a burger and a drink.

"Eat it all. I need you to be healthy." Marshal sat beside Tucker, helping him with the burger.

Zander gave Tucker the shot then settled
in beside them, scarfing down a burger. They'd had missions fail before but he'd never been on a mission where one of his team members was shot. Stress had him in knots, and he tried to push it away, but being a man down sucked. He had to keep his wits about him or risk it all.

*~*~*

When the guys in Russia found Tucker, Roger headed back to his room. Emotions from finding a guy he didn't know twisted in his gut. Living at the ranch would be a change. As a SEAL, he'd spent years following the rules and going by guidelines established by the government.

His new team members were in Russia to kill a man. He needed more information before he made a
judgment. Maybe this is what Duff was talking about. There were levels of trust that had to be developed to accept a unit like this. Killing was serious and that was what these guys specialized in. If he stayed, he'd have to trust these men. Of course, after seeing a small piece of their operation he doubted that they'd let him leave. He had signed the contract, but that didn't mean they'd actually let him leave.

The day h
ad been long even if you didn't count him being drugged and flown across the US. His muscles ached and his head hurt. He stretched his arms over his head then bent at his waist, working out the kinks before moving to the outer room to turn off the lights. Both Duff and Grant had said this wouldn’t be his room once he accepted the position but he had nowhere else to go.

The silence soothed him, giving him time to think. He flicked off the light and
was almost back to the bedroom when he heard a noise behind him. Turning, he found Grant in the doorway, the light in the hall hiding his face in shadows. Desire spiked, pissing Roger off. Grant wasn't Hayden and yet he wanted him. Unwanted desire fired nerves he'd forgotten he had, bringing to life a part of him that had died with his lover. Not once in the eight months since that terrible day had he even wanted to touch another, yet a few hours with Grant left him ready to drop to his knees.

"Do you need anything?" Grant leaned against the
doorjamb, striking a relaxed pose that Roger could see was far from relaxed.

"Thanks for asking. How did you know I'd return here?"

Grant pushed away from the doorway and sauntered across the room. There still wasn't enough light to make out Grant's expression which further agitated Roger. For a moment he felt more like prey instead of a friend. Then Grant was next to him, his expression readable. There wasn't anything there other than normal curiosity and friendship.

"You forget
, we have your complete file."

"Yeah, spooky. I'm not sure I like the idea of you all knowing me so much better than I know you."

Grant chuckled, the smile on his lips made him look really relaxed for the first time since they'd met. "Don't worry, soon enough you'll know all of us better than you know your own family."

"You assume I know them well
."

"
Piece of cake then. So, are you heading to bed?"

"I don't think I could keep my eyes open
another minute."

"
Goodnight." Grant turned and stepped away. Roger grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled, exposing his chest. Grant must have turned back because the gasp from the man made Roger freeze before finish pulling the material over his head.

For
a moment Grant stared openmouthed, raw lust flashing in his eyes, before he turned toward the door. Grant didn't move, and silence hung between them. Roger's heart sped up. He didn't know if Grant was gay or not and finding out right now might not be entirely appropriate. There were moments when he was sure the man had the same desires as he, then he couldn't see it, doubting why he'd even assumed the man might be gay. The gasp had him wondering and now, with Grant standing still, not leaving, he really wondered.

After a short pause, Roger took one step then another, placing him only inches from Grant. The man glanced over his shoulder, pain and grief
showing in his eyes. Roger reached out, cupping Grant's cheek, letting his thumb slide over the rough stubble. Grand didn't pull away as Roger's thumb rasped over the rough whiskers. The moment lengthened, neither moving, finally their gazes connected sending sparks through him, shaking Roger all the way to his toes.

Four
beats of his heart passed, then another four with both of them searching each other's eyes. Roger's hand burned where he touched Grant, heat racing up his arm. For a moment he really thought they were going to kiss and part of him wanted to so badly his mouth watered, then a part of him wanted to run away and never feel anything like this again because the memories of Hayden were too painful to push away and desire was so intricately woven with Hayden that he couldn’t separate the two.

The air changed between them and Grant shuttered his desire, the spark in his eyes growing dim before being extinguished. He
stepped away and cleared his throat, his gaze no longer meeting Roger's. "I'll be out here if you need anything."

In that moment, Roger wished he
wasn't just beginning another assignment. He wanted the freedom to pull Grant close and kiss him. They didn't know each other well enough to wind up in bed together, but the ache Grant had opened wouldn't go away easily. Though their relationship wasn't traditional, he and Hayden had been together for years. Before Hayden, he'd been with only two other guys, choosing to remain unattached instead of playing the dangerous dating game that had led to so much confusion amongst his friends. Of course they'd all been straight and they'd slept around so much they ended up getting girls pregnant, changing their lives and the lives around them.

His and Hayden's
relationship had been special. Of course everyone who has a relationship thinks theirs is unique, but theirs had been. They'd shared everything. Their lives were so intricately interwoven he'd believed they'd be together forever. Then death came, taking it all in a few seconds, leaving nothing but emptiness and defeat. Hayden had been the only guy who understood him and Roger feared he'd never find that again with anyone. Maybe he didn't deserve to find it. Once in a lifetime was more than most people got, few ever caught a glimpse of what he'd had with Hayden, and he wanted it again, craved that connection—maybe to the point of looking for it with a stranger just so he could feel again.

"Goodnight." Roger moved to the door separating the room, wishing that Grant would say or do something but relieved that he hadn't. In the morning, they could get up and pretend that nothing had happened because nothing had. They'd spent a few minutes looking into each other's eyes
and that was it, no promises were made, no hearts bruised. He'd read too much into it and now he needed to forget it ever happened.

Roger shut the door and sighed. He kicked off his shoes then stripped, sliding under the sheets. Tomorrow would be
the beginning of his next adventure. He hadn't changed his mind about staying. The trust would come. That Grant hadn't come on to him made him feel better about staying. Working as a cowboy while waiting for assignments intrigued him. When he'd left the military, he'd thought of himself living in a big city, but he looked forward to the peace and quiet for a while, hoping that the land could heal his heart enough to move from the hollow man he'd become and maybe make a life for himself.

The rumble of voices in the outer room soothed him. Roger shut his eyes and curled up on his side. Images of Grant played through his mind
before he pushed them away and thought about Hayden. It wasn't any use, Hayden faded into the background as Grant took his place front and center in dream world as Roger drifted off.

Chapter Four

Every second seemed to take forever, the minutes stretched on seeming like hours as
Billy waited for the car to roll through the gate. He'd kept up with Marshal's progress reports, reading each line about Tucker at least five times. Anger and relief had left him on edge for the last few days. The guys had called him on his attitude more than once, assigning him horse stall cleaning duty, which was his least liked job on the ranch.

Perched on the top of the fence, he watched the three men unload from the car, Tucker with his arm in a sling. White-hot rage boiled up and
Billy jumped from the top rail, stalking into the barn to finish cleaning the stalls. The anger didn't abate as he shoveled clean straw into the last of the stalls. After finishing the task he put the pitchfork in the closet, straightening all of the tools before turning around quickly, running straight into Tucker. The gasp from Tucker shot spikes of electricity down Billy's legs, but when the man cringed in pain he felt like his heart was being squeezed so tight he'd die.

"Wow, didn't expect you to run over me." Tucker's voice spilled out, filling the small area. Billy wanted to close his eyes and lean in, resting his ear against Tucker's chest and listen to the man talk while feeling the vibrations from the deep baritone.

"Tuck." He tried not to let his emotions show, hiding the desire and need filling him. "Glad you're back. I guess you won't be working though."

Tucker's lips turned down and his eyes
drooped. The light he'd seen in them dimmed a bit and Tucker dropped his chin, his gaze sliding away from Billy. He was being harsh and he hated himself for being such a jerk, but Tucker getting shot had made him feel so vulnerable he'd cried himself to sleep. The need to punish Tucker for scaring him overrode his good senses.

"Hey, why are
you mad at me?" Tucker pressed his lips together and stepped forward, blocking Billy's exit.

They were both big guys, but Tucker was tall and broad, not an ounce of fat on the man. Billy was tall, but narrow,
his muscles lean and long. Though blond, Tucker had a dark look about him, and when he allowed his stubble to grow, Billy would do anything for him. They were best friends, inseparable most days. There were so many ways to answer Tucker's question. The truth wasn't one of them. If he spilled the beans, telling Tucker how attracted he was to him, how he wanted to try to build a relationship, he'd be laughed off Wild Bluff Ranch. Tucker was straight and girls were his thing, he just didn't sleep around with them so he was mostly celibate. They'd spent hours talking about it, not girls, but sex. Tucker said was saving himself for someone special. Not that he was a virgin, but he didn't see the point in having sex with random people when his hand never talked back or complained.

Billy understood and though he went into Colorado Springs a few times a year to get off, he didn't pressure Tucker to do the same. Those times he did head into town, he picked guys who were big and burly like Tucker.

"It's nothing. I'm just busy. I need to finish off the barn," Billy barked out, lying through his teeth. The barn was done and he had nothing to do. If this were any other mission, he'd throw his arm over Tucker's shoulder and have a beer with him.

"Okay, how about I grab us a few beers and we can sit out on the patio until dinner is read."

"No, I don't want a beer."

"Billy, what the fuck is wrong with you
?"

"It's nothing.
" Billy clenched his fist and his teeth, words spun through his thoughts but nothing he could say. "You getting injured makes things hard around here. That's all." He wasn't making sense and he was about to cry. He couldn’t let Tucker see him cry. The truth would come out then and he'd be without his friend forever.

"You're being an ass."

"Then leave."

Tucker didn't move and Billy almost told him
the truth. Every cell in his body cried out for him to spill the beans but the fallout would devastate them both. Helplessness and rage combined causing a roar in his ears that left him completely unable to deal with the situation.

Billy raced past Tucker and out to his truck.
He hopped in, glad that the keys were in the ignition. He turned over the engine and speeded out to the main road and into the small town a few miles away. The truck ate the miles quickly and he pulled up at Flo's Roadhouse, the only bar in town. This wasn't what he wanted but the six two, two hundred pound man at Wild Bluff wasn't for him and that hurt more than anything.

Before anyone thought him strange for sitting in his truck for too long, he shuffled into the bar and ordered a beer, taking a long draw, finishing off half the bottle. The bartender nodded and he held up one finger, asking for another. With the first
beer finished, he started on the second then decided to slow down. When the bartender came around again he ordered a burger and a glass of water, regretting drinking on an empty stomach. The food did the trick, sobering him up enough to drive home. With the late hour, he'd probably be able to sneak in without having to answer any questions, because he really didn't think he could answer anything.

*~*~*

Tucker stared after Billy, wondering what the hell had gotten into him. Before this mission, they'd been the best of friends. He loved hanging out with Billy. They got on well and he really felt like they could talk.

After looking around the barn, seeing if anything out here could have set Billy off, he headed back to the main house and into the kitchen. Duff had made a casserole and Grant was making a salad. The new guy, Roger, had taken up the task of making a pie. Marshal was behind him, telling him what to do.

"No, that's not how you do it. You want the dough to be tender, not beaten," Marshal said.

Roger held up the rolling pin and spun around. "Good Lord, are you going to let me make this pie or badger me to death
?"

"The dough is going to be too stiff if you treat it that way." Marshal
moved in close, poking the dough with his finger.

"Don't touch my dough," Roger warned.

James waltzed in and laughed. "What about your sausage. Can we touch that?"

Roger set the rolling pin down and placed both hands on his hips. "Boys, one of you wants my dough and the other my sausage. What the hell type of place is this
?"

Duff snorted. "You don't know the half of it."

"Half of what?" Roger asked.

They all shot their eyes to Grant. He was trying to be a good sport, but it was obvious to everyone that he still pined after
Craig. "Let's just say we ain't in the ocean but there's lots of seamen round here."

"Crude," Zander yelled as he strolled in. "You're all so fucking crude." Zander grabbed Marshal and pushed him against the counter then proceeded to hump him, smacking his ass hard when Marshal pushed him away. "You love it, Marsh, you just can't wait to get into my pants."

"Yeah, and see that world-class pussy you got," Marshal drawled.

"Hey, are you calling me a pussy?" Zander raced after him. They ran outside and tussled in the yard.

"How long have they been a couple?" Roger asked.

"
They aren't. Marshal isn't gay," Duff said.

"Oh." Roger
stared out the window as the guys play fought, Zander finally taking Marshal to the ground, landing on top of him.

Tucker shook his head, wondering not for the first time if those two were going at it after dark.
Both men seemed to be enjoying squirming around on each other. He watched as Zander rose up, allowing Marshal to turn over. Marshal was a bit smaller than Zander, but it didn't stop Zander from lying on top of Marshal, resting his head on the guy's chest.

Grant came up beside
him and Roger, watching the guys in the yard. "Really, they play like that all the time. They're like two puppies. It doesn't mean anything. They really are just friends." Grant tapped Roger on the arm and he couldn't help but catch the look Roger and Grant exchanged. Something had gone on between the pair, he'd gamble on it.

"Guess I need to get back to my pie." Roger turned
away from the window, his gaze staying on Grant longer than Tucker thought necessary.

Tucker shook his head and ignored the men. It wasn't his business
who slept with whom. As long as they did their work, that's all he could ask for. Tucker grabbed a few plates, taking them two at a time to the table. The food came out of the oven and Roger put in his blueberry pie after sprinkling sugar on the egg brushed crust.

Living at the ranch was different than he
'd first thought. He originally believed they'd be in danger all the time, but it wasn't like that. This was the first mission that had gone awry. Usually, they were ranchers who occasionally went on missions. He wouldn’t give this up, ever. That Craig had walked out, leaving like they weren't family, disturbed him, but Billy's attitude left him dumbfounded.

When they were midway through
their meal Duff cleared his throat. "Tucker, did you find out what's wrong with Billy?"

He shook his head and put down his fork. "I got nothing."

"You know, this is the first time any of us have been shot since he joined the team," Marshal said.

"Do you think that's what this is about? A couple of the guys in his unit were killed."
Grant picked up his glass of tea and took a swig.

Tucker wished he had use of both hands. When they hit the US, he'd gone to a doctor that they trusted, finding out that Zander had done a great job fixing his arm and it would just take time to heal. He'd start physical therapy soon and he'd hoped Billy would take him, but he guessed he'd get one of the other guys.

"So tonight, when he comes home, would you go talk to him, Tucker?" Duff asked.

"Yeah, he's my best friend. I need to figure out what's wrong."

They finished their meal touching subjects that were ranch related. A few of the guys wanted to buy foals this year but Duff thought they were crazy. Billy was the one leading the group in the quest to buy the new horses so the discussion died off quickly without Billy to lead the charge. When dinner was done, Tucker headed off to his room, glad to be home. They each had private rooms, some of the guys were housed in different buildings that were attached with walkways, but both he and Billy were in the main house on the far side away from everyone else. They had privacy and often spent the night talking, sometimes even falling asleep in the same bed.

At eleven he heard shuffling in the hall and he waited for Billy's door to close before he got up and went to his room, knocking softly. He waited a long moment
for the door to open. Billy stared at him, his eyes narrowed and his shoulders stiff.

"Can I come in?" Tucker asked, not sure if Billy would allow him in.

"Fine, but I'm tired."

He followed Billy in, closing the door behind him. When he looked back at Billy all he saw was anger and confusion.

"Billy, talk to me. Please."

He shook his head and stormed off to the bathroom. Tucker followed, keeping the door from shutting though Billy pushed it closed. The man was vibrating with anger and he hated this. They couldn't work together if Billy kept this up. He'd miss going out on missions with his best friend.

"You know, our work is dangerous."

Billy spun around, his face red. "You don't get it."

"Billy, I'm trying. I got shot, but I'm fine."

"You're fine?" Billy screamed, his voice echoing around the tiled room. "Fine, you have a fucking hole in your arm. What if the guy had aimed better? Or what if he'd been lucky? You could have died without knowing."

"Knowing? Knowing what?"

Billy threw up his arms and huffed out a breath. He spun around and stood with his hands on his hips, his shoulders
rising and falling with each intake and exhale of air. Tucker moved behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder. Billy stiffened then spun around, confusion tinged with heat filling his gaze. Tucker's belly felt funny and he sucked in a breath.

"Knowing this," Billy said before he closed the distance between them, his lips pressing against Tucker's.

Shock ripped through him and he gasped, his lips separating and then Billy mistook his opened mouth for an invitation. Rough stubble grazed over his chin, he felt whiskers edging the lips he kissed, the sensation foreign. Then Billy was holding him, his hands on Tucker's back, his body pressed against Tucker's. Feelings swirled inside that he'd never experienced before when kissing a girl. His dick stiffened and he felt Billy's graze against his hip. He moaned and Billy deepened the kiss. With his good hand he clutched at Billy's shirt, pulling it out of his jeans. The desire to run his hands over Billy's chest hit hard and he slipped his fingers under the material, grazing soft skin covering hard muscles.

Billy pressed in harder and pain shot through his arm. He pulled back, almost
dropping to his knees in agony. They separated and Tucker stepped back, his good hand at his lips, grazing over the swollen surface. They stared at each other for a long moment, neither saying a thing.