The Terms of Release (13 page)

He wondered if Sage ever liked to come out this way. It was funny, they were only seventy miles outside Dallas and all the fun two guys could need, and yet….

The distance must seem insurmountable to Sage. God knew it did to Win sometimes. Maybe he should see if Sage’s parole could handle a weekend in a hotel.

Fuck, that would be fun. Swimming, relaxing, movies on the pay-per-view. Just eating out without anyone who knew them watching would be a blast. He’d ask the next time he and Sage got together.

“Are you paying attention to my story about the hairdresser, Son?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Mom knew better, but Win wasn’t above flat-out lying.

“Oh good. You like my low-lights?”

What the fuck were low-lights? He peered at her, trying to figure it out. Hell, he even glanced at Ted for help.

His uncle shrugged. “Just say yes, Win.”

“Yes. Absolutely. You look amazing.”

Mom patted her hair. “Thanks, baby. How’s your steak?”

“Good.” He hadn’t tried it yet. Okay, he needed to pay attention.

She looked at him, then cracked up. “Liar. Where are you in that head of yours?”

“Just thinking, Mom.” He didn’t dare say what about.

Everyone was looking at him. Christ. Win brazened it out, grinning and then digging into his salad. No way was he going to duck his head.

T
IME
TICKED
away, and he almost wished an emergency would happen so he could zoom out, avoid the one-on-two that was going to happen with Teddy and Jim. They both sat across the way, staring at him, not quite glaring, because that would have gotten them in trouble with the women.

It was Jim who broke first, which didn’t surprise Win in the least. “I heard that the Redding boy got into a fight with some bikers.”

“Did you? Strangely, the only biker there was Bulldog, who helped Sage out.”

“Bill Marsh is a gang leader and a felon. It doesn’t surprise me he helped. Ex-cons stick together.”

Win counted to five. “Looks like cowardly assholes do too.”

“That’s always been true, baby.” Mom was the eternal voice of reason. “Asshole calls to asshole.”

He smiled at her, giving her thanks silently.

She winked. God, it was good for someone to have his back. Sometimes it felt like he was the only sane one in the family. Auntie glared over at Jim. “Why are we talking about your work, boy?”

Mom snorted into her tea, and Win bit his bottom lip, hard.

“What would you like me to talk on?” Jim asked, belligerence showing on his face.

Auntie tilted her head. “We could discuss the price of tea in China. Or the death penalty. Or why girls don’t wear nylons anymore.”

“We could,” his mom agreed. “Or, we could talk about the supersale at Kohl’s.”

“Are you heading to Kohl’s, dear? I need a new hat.”

“I’ll take you ladies down,” Win offered. He’d get ice cream out of it.

“You did raise a good boy, Lana.” Auntie nodded. “I’ll buy us all something sweet.”

“Do they have whiskey at Starbucks these days?” Mom muttered.

“No, but I have some in my purse!” Auntie cackled, tossing her napkin on the table. “Ted, you get the bill.”

“That’s a luscious idea. Come on, Son. I have a card to burn.” Mom stood up and waved blithely. “You two old men will have to ambush Win later.”

Win stood, too, looking at the rest of the aunts and cousins. “Any other takers?”

They all stared at him, a group banded together in the belief that his lover killed one of their own.

“Right. Later!” He left a ten for the tip and grabbed Auntie’s arm. No sense tempting fate.

As he headed to the parking lot, he texted Sage. “Boo.”

The “Eek” that came back made him smile.

“You’ve got it bad, boy,” Auntie said, hobbling along at an amazing speed.

Win shrugged. No sense denying it. “For all the good it does me.”

“I’m sorry.” The words surprised him, honestly.

“Thanks.” He took her to his mom’s car and held the door. He’d pick up his truck later. “Who did you ride in with?”

“Your cousin Alba.”

“We’ll drop you off, Auntie.” Mom smiled. “I’ll even come in and help you feed the cats.”

“Thank you. I need a hat first.”

“You got it. Kohl’s-ho!” He took Mom’s keys, sliding into the car, his knees up under his chin. He put the seat back, ignoring her protest.

When he was fifteen, he would rather have died than gone shopping with his mom. Now? So much better than hanging out with the men in the family.

He pulled out of the parking lot and headed toward I-30 and the shops. Christ. What a fucking day. He wondered if Sage wanted take and bake pizza tonight.

He’d bet Sage would like that. The man was insistent about not messing up Wilma’s kitchen.

Yeah. He’d take pizza, and they’d find something pornalicious on the satellite.

Then he’d ask if Sage wanted to spend a couple of days in the Metroplex.

“S
AGE
? R
EDDING
?
You around?”

Bulldog’s voice rang out through the barn, and Sage looked up from where he was mucking, wiping the sweat from his eyes. Damn, he was ready for fall to show up down here. “Hey, man. What’s up?”

“I was wondering if I could ask you a favor.” Bulldog leaned against one of the posts. “Halloween is tomorrow, and I promised my grandkids I’d take them trick or treating. You willing to close up the diner with Wilma and make sure she gets in her car safe?”

“You know it.” Sage didn’t even have to think on it. Halloween was mostly fun, but there was that hint of evil to it, especially in a small town.

“Thanks, man. I really appreciate it. The boys are having themselves a bonfire.” Bulldog grinned a little and rolled his eyes, and Sage snorted.

Bonfire. Redneck for let’s get drunk, blow shit up, and shoot shit before fighting with our girlfriends and tearing siding off a barn. Hoo-fucking-ray.

“No need to explain. I got your back.”

“Thanks, man.” Bulldog winked at him, bearded face all jolly. “How you holding up?”

“Good. Good. Trying to make sure all this place is ready for winter.” November was coming, and there’d be blue northers with the change in the calendar.

“Yeah. Yeah, I guess it’s coming on to that time.” Bulldog just shrugged. “You know all we got is the dogs.”

“Yeah. I have to make sure the barns are wind-ready.”

“Well, I’m okay with a hammer. I’d be happy to help.”

“There’s one right there.” Sage pointed over to the other side of Windy’s stall, where Daddy’s hammer was sitting. “What are the grandbabies going as?”

“One is going as a bumblebee, the other one is a superhero.” Bulldog’s eyes crossed. “I ain’t sure which one. Not one from when I was a kid.” The man grabbed the hammer and got to patching holes and shoring up boards.

“Ain’t nothing the same, man.” And Bulldog had twenty years on him, easy.

“Bubba? Bubba, you out here?” Rosie came in, eyes going wide at the sight of the long-haired biker. “Mr. Bulldog. Good afternoon. Momma wants to know if you want oatmeal cookies. I was craving.”

“Sure. Bulldog? You want some? They’re like heaven.”

“I’d be happy to sample some.” Bulldog gave Rosie a smile that looked much like his namesake. “Miss Rosie.”

“Coffee or tea?” she asked.

“Tea for me, please. It’s still warm.”

“Same for me.” Bulldog nodded, and they went back to work until Rosie came back with a plate and two big glasses of tea.

“You get fed like this every day, Sage?”

“God, yes.” He patted his belly, which was as flat as it had ever been. He was a pocket cowboy, and he knew it. A big guy wasn’t hiding inside his genes. Or in his jeans. He grinned at his little joke, thinking on how Adam would like that.

“I don’t see how your gut isn’t twice the size of mine, and I get pie whenever I want.”

“I burn it off, I guess. Daddy’s little too.” Small but mighty.

“Runs in the family,” Rosie agreed, nodding. “Anything else, boys?”

“I’m good, Rosie. Thank you.” He watched her leave. She’d been quiet for a few days, avoided him, but then she’d started to relax around him and act like the girl he knew.

“She’s got some color in her cheeks. It’s been good for her.”

“That bastard was mean to her. I think the morning sickness is easing up too, which helps.”

“Yeah. That always makes a woman peaked.” Bulldog polished off the last cookie and gulped some tea. “Anything else you need me to do, man?”

“Not a thing. I appreciate the help, though.” He reached out and shook Bulldog’s hand.

“Thanks. She’ll close up about an hour early on Halloween. Just to keep the drunks out.”

“I’ll be there. I might bring Momma and Daddy to have a piece of pie. They don’t get folks this far out.”

“No, I bet not. My girl would love that.” Bulldog slapped him on the back. “Thanks again, man.”

“Anytime.”

He meant it too. Bulldog was one of the good guys, no matter what the Baptists whispered about him. Bulldog had been inside too, and understood a lot of the things Sage didn’t even like to think, let alone say.

Bulldog finished his tea. “Wilma wants to know what kind of pie you’d like tomorrow.”

“Chocolate, please.”

“Good deal. Okay, man, I’ll get out of your hair. Win coming over tonight?”

Sage felt his cheeks heat. “His shift is off at six. He’s bringing steaks for the grill.”

“Well, good on ya.” Bulldog headed off, waving as he hopped in his truck.

Yeah. It was actually pretty good, all in all.

W
IN
SAT
next to Sage on the couch, his arm around Sage’s shoulders. They’d had steaks, a hand job, and half a dose of that shark movie Sage loved so.

He figured it was time to ask.

“So, I got a weekend off next week. Wanna go to Fort Worth?”

“Sure. If I can. What’s in Fort Worth?”

Well, that was easy. “Well, there’s a little rodeo, and there’s the Stockyards. I’ll take you to the Cattleman’s.”

“I haven’t been to the Stockyards in years. I bet it’s different now.”

“Not that much, really. It’s a fun place.” Win chuckled, hugging Sage close. “Cool, then. I’ll get us a room, talk to your PO.”

“Sounds perfect. You’ll have your hands full tomorrow, I bet.”

“Halloween?” Win grimaced. “It gets hairy. High school kids especially.”

“Yeah. I remember that.” Sage got a naughty little look on his face, and suddenly Win could remember what little he knew of Sage back in the day—a laughing little bastard who was ready and eager for fun.

“You doing anything?” Win asked, hoping Sage would stay home, honestly.

“I promised Bulldog I would make sure Wilma got out and home safe.”

God damn it. Just what they needed. “Well, stick with her. Don’t separate.”

“I won’t. I’m going to take the folks, get them pie. She’s closing early.”

The cop in him didn’t like this idea, not at all. In fact, he had a terrible frisson of foresight. Bad things happened to Sage in parking lots.

“You okay, Adam? You need another cup of coffee?”

“Sure.” He tried to summon up a smile. It was tough to do. Halloween was a bad night as it was, and he didn’t like this, not one bit.

He let Sage get up and get them coffee and all, wondering if he could slide by the diner tomorrow night.

He’d be patrolling. Hell, how could Wilma be safer?

“You’re all frowns.” Sage sat, handing him a coffee.

“Sorry.” He didn’t need to borrow trouble, so he shrugged it off.

“For what? Frowning?” Sage winked and settled. “You’re allowed, so long as I didn’t bring it on.”

“Well, I have to admit, I don’t like the idea of you being at the diner on Halloween, but you’re a big boy.” He wrapped an arm around Sage’s shoulders again.

“Me either, but I told Bulldog I would, and I like the idea of Miss Wilma there alone even less.”

“I know.” He knew. Sage was a good man. He genuinely was.

“I’ll be fine. I’ll take Momma and Daddy. Who would mess with me, then? This is about showing me my place, not scaring them.”

“That’s a good idea, babe. I want you healthy for Fort Worth.”

Sage grinned at him. “I’ll have to shine my good boots. Momma kept them all these years.”

“Will they still fit?” Very little of Win’s stuff from high school would.

“Yeah. I’m the same size. Hell, my waist is a bit smaller.”

Damn. That was something. Not that Win would want to use prison as a weight-loss method.

Still he didn’t mind the way those lean muscles jerked and rolled under his fingers. No, he thought Sage was beautiful, so perfectly formed.

“You got needing in your eyes, darlin’.” Sage’s words were husky, soft, and so fucking true.

“Do I?” Win grinned a little before leaning down to kiss that mouth, loving how Sage opened right up for him. No one had ever wanted him this way. Hell, he’d never met a guy who could sit and kiss for hours, until neither of them could draw a full breath, until Win couldn’t taste the difference between them. It made him feel ten feet tall and hard as a rock.

Sage’s fingers slid up and down his ribs, petting him nice and easy.

His toes curled some, his belly drawing up tight.

A happy little sound vibrated his lips. Sage reached up and stroked his cheek, rough fingertips tracing the planes of his face.

Damn, but that man did it for him. Revved his engine. Floated his boat. Whatever the phrase, Sage had it going on.

“You ever had sushi before?”

Now there was a question out of left field. Win blinked. “Uh. Yeah. I mean, a couple times.”

“I had it once, before the favorites dance in Greenville when I was a junior, on a dare. I loved the stuff, at least I think I did. I remember liking it. I took my cousin, Cindy, you remember her? The one with Downs?”

He nodded. Yeah, he remembered her, vaguely.

“She died from a heart attack a few years ago. It was quick.” Sage shrugged. “Anyways, did you like it enough to get more? Maybe in Dallas on our way to our weekend?”