They were in bed.Calvin was snoring softly,the lights were off,and the storm had blown itself out.Brock lay sleepless,unable to get his mind around Calvin’s generosity.However,he was doing his best to follow Calvin’s advice of not thinking about it until Tuesday.
Remembering the time Calvin had used his finger to trace out words,Brock began to write,I LOVE YOU on his savior’s spine.
“Wish you could stay here in Texas,”Brock whispered.“Don’t know what I’ll do without you.”
In his sleep,Calvin pulled Brock tighter to him.
Bright sunlight peeked in through the not-quite closed drapes at Brock’s bedroom window.Calvin—who lay spooned behind Brock,his right arm over the cowboy’s waist,his right hand cupping a handsome-sized set of balls—didn’t want to get up,but his increasingly full bladder was leaving him with little option.
Sighing,Calvin removed his arm.Brock mumbled something and shifted in his sleep.
Calvin kissed Brock’s right shoulder.“Back in a minute.”