Marcus was just passing through Texas when he met Kent. In his cowboy hat, low-riding jeans, and black boots, Kent looks like the type of guy Marcus desperately wants to love.<br><br>But two years later, he's discovered Kent is cold and distant, the quintessential American cowboy, and spends more time drunk than sober. Marcus can never predict his mood and blames himself for the flailing relationship.<br><br>Then, one day when Kent rides into town, Marcus finds a young runaway hiding in their barn. Luke is warm, loving, and quick to please ... everything Kent is not. Though the answer seems obvious, Marcus finds himself torn between the boy who demands his love and the man whose love he craves.

Cowboy

But he doesn’t say anything, just pulls away


and clears his throat, asks for more coffee. And I don’t offer


myself to him—I just nod and grip his mug tight, head back for the


house and the pot simmering on the stove. This isn’t a daydream and


he isn’t a model in an underwear ad. My sister’s right, that world


This is what I got instead. As I trek back to


the house, I tell myself this is enough. It’s going to have to


Afternoon finds me beneath the tent, the fan


stirring hot air over my denim-clad legs and a towel full of


melting ice tied around my neck. When I first hooked up with Kent,


I made the mistake of wearing shorts outside—came in that night


with welts up and down my legs, mosquito bites and red chigger


trails on my thighs, black fleas like freckles on my ankles and


feet. Scratches, too, where the dust blew up against me during the


day, I was raw from the heat and the dirt, and I never felt more


Chapter 4