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

knowhe’s not one to waste words. He means this, every


single thing he’s telling me now, he means every word of it. “I


mean nothing to you?” I ask, incredulous. Then why the mug this


morning, why the hose? Shit, he should be happyI’m leaving.


He sighs and takes off his cowboy hat, runs a


hand through his dark hair, wavy with sweat. Then he sets the hat


back on his head, a little crooked, and I fist my hands to keep


from righting it. “I like you, Marcus,” he tells me, but


likeisn’t love,is it? “I care about you, don’t get


me wrong. If you get sick, I worry. If you’re hurt, I get upset.


Trailing off, he looks out at his market and


when he speaks again, his voice is so low, it’s almost a whisper.


“I liked the partnership we had here. You working the house, the


money, it let me do what I really wanted to be doing. If I ran this


stint alone, I’d have no time for the plants. I’m worn out as it is


Chapter 62