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

I push my chair back and stand up so quick


that it knocks against the stove, rocks back on two legs, threatens


to fall but doesn’t. “I hear you,” I growl, pissed. Picking up my


plate, I turn from the table so they can’t see my shaking hands,


and as I scrape the rest of my eggs into the trash, I say bitterly,


“I know you too well, Kent. Any money you get today won’t go in


that register and you know it. You’ll pocket the cash and when you


ride into town, you’ll use it to get shit-faced all over again. And


then what? You got lucky once but what happens if you hit a tree


the next time you’re too damn drunk to drive home? What happens if


I feel his rage like a caged animal, snarling


at me even though he doesn’t say a word. Angry myself, I throw my


dish into the sink, my silverware, my cup, and what’s left of my


coffee splashes the stainless steel before spiraling away down the


drain. Fuck him,I think. If he doesn’t care enough about


Chapter 39