A Subtle Breeze Bailey Bradford (ebook reader play store .TXT) 📖

“Holy fuck, Zeke,” he muttered. “Uhn…” He was pretty sure something had just shorted out in his brain. Zeke shot him an evil grin, the weight of today’s events vanishing entirely from his expression for a brief moment.

“I can think of better things for you to do with that mouth other than just grunt, ya know.” Those green eyes glowed at Brendon, stoking the fire inside him all over again.

Brendon grinned back, finally able to form a coherent thought or two. “Doubt you’d want me to blow you while we’re bouncing around the cab of this truck, could be dangerous,” he pointed out.

Zeke nodded. “Yeah, but as soon as I get you home, babe…” He looked down and seemed only then to notice the mess he was wearing. The sight of the blood and other evidence of the dead cattle took the teasing right out of Zeke. Brendon watched the man go from happy to restrained in a snap, not that he could blame him. He reached out and petted Zeke’s thigh, squeezing it lightly, getting a little smile back from his man.

“Reckon I need to shower first, huh? Been a bitch of a day.”

A ball of fear formed in Brendon’s stomach at the emotionless tone of Zeke’s voice. What had happened to his teasing lover of moments before? Why did it feel as though he was suddenly freezing Brendon out? He looked at Zeke, willing the man to meet his gaze, but Zeke kept his eyes on the bumpy road. They pulled into the yard and parked in the shade. Zeke slid out from under Brendon’s touch and practically bolted out of the truck.

Brendon watched Zeke walk toward the house without even glancing back. What the fuck? No way was the man going to escape him that easily. He jumped out of the truck and ran after his stubborn lover.

Zeke felt like a total asshole, but he didn’t know what to do. He’d been letting go of some of the sheer horror of the day, teasing and laughing with Brendon, just feeling lighter inside. When he’d looked down and realized he was coated in graphic reminders of the attack on his cattle, he’d had one thought—what if, next time, Brendon was hurt? Or, God forbid, killed?

The tight band squeezing his chest at those thoughts had nothing to do with a damned panic attack. If something were to happen to Brendon, Zeke didn’t know if he would survive it.

Zeke was so lost in his thoughts he almost didn’t hear the pounding of Brendon’s boots as the man chased him across the yard. A hard hand grabbed Zeke’s shoulder and spun him around right before he reached the porch steps. Angry brown eyes narrowed as Brendon stepped close, almost bumping their chests together in a show of force. Zeke reached behind himself and grabbed a porch rail to keep from toppling onto his ass on the steps.

“What the fuck is your problem?” Brendon bit out, hurt seeping through each word. “One minute, we’re better than fine, and the next, you just turn cold as ice and walk—no, run—off like you can’t stand the sight of me? Is that how you’re going to handle it when something scares you, by pushing me away?”

Zeke felt his own temper spike, guilt from hurting Brendon, worry about the man’s safety, frustration and fear boiling up and over. Letting go of the railing, Zeke grabbed two handfuls of Brendon’s shirt, pulling his lover up to his toes.

“Maybe you should fuckin’ leave if you can’t deal with it, Brendon. Just pack your things and get gone.” It didn’t matter that even saying the words broke something inside him. Zeke couldn’t seem to stop himself. He felt like he was wound so tight he was ready to shatter, but he’d handle it if only Brendon would be safe. Which meant the man needed to be away from here, from Zeke…from this cruel little town.

Brendon’s hands came up to clasp Zeke’s, holding them in place. Zeke blinked in surprise—he’d expected Brendon to try to pry his shirt free. Instead, his thumbs were gently caressing the tops of Zeke’s fisted hands. He blinked as he realized his lover’s eyes weren’t shooting out angry sparks any more, but were soft and warm in a way that touched something deep inside Zeke.

That didn’t bode well for his hastily derived plan to get Brendon to leave at all. Yesterday, he had been almost certain he could keep the man safe with him, here on the ranch. Today, now, with someone trespassing onto his property and perpetrating a violent attack on his herd, Zeke just didn’t feel as assured of his protective skills any more. Zeke tried to pull his hands free, but Brendon grabbed both of his wrists, holding them in a surprisingly strong grasp.

“Is that what you want, Zeke, for me to leave?”

No, no, it wasn’t what he wanted, but it was what would be best for Brendon, and that was more important. Zeke shrugged, trying his best to look bored with the whole conversation.

“I know what I don’t want, and that’s to put up with this kind of shit. So maybe you should just leave, run on back to Austin.” Somehow, Zeke found the strength to get the words out, even made them sound convincing, he hoped.

Brendon kept his grip on Zeke’s wrists, studying him so closely Zeke feared the man could see into his soul. Brendon’s lips twitched, tipping up slightly at the corners. Zeke felt his heart sink even as he tamped down the joy trying to spring up at the sight of that beautifully curving mouth.

Shaking his head, Brendon moved forward, forcing Zeke to stumble backwards up a step. Brendon just kept on moving, walking until he had Zeke pressed up against the door.

“You don’t want me to go. You’re just afraid—for me. Admit it, lover.”

Zeke shook his head, some line about protesting too much