The Man Who Loved Cole Flores (Dig Two Graves 1)

Ned faced the sun and glanced toward the wagon train from under the brim of his hat, but the other gang members were moving slowly and remained small in the distance, like a worm twisting by the tip of his boots.

They were playing a dangerous game with Tom and the whole gang, but with Cole on the line, Ned was ready to face danger rather than run from it. Cole would have done the same for him. Like a tamed wolf, he could be deadly to others yet protective of their two-person pack. His presence made Ned’s time with the Gotham Boys an adventure, and some days he even forgot that wasn’t why he’d joined the gang in the first place. Prying Cole out of Tom’s hands would be a long, painful process, but Cole had a mind of his own and would see the good of it one day.

A whistle echoed up the walls of the mesa loud and clear, cutting through the silence to alert all of Ned’s senses. Cole still couldn’t whistle for shit, so he ended up getting a nickel device to produce a similar sound, to use it in situations that required Ned’s instant presence. But what could have possibly happened? There had been two vagrants camped by the stream when Ned and Cole had arrived, and they’d both been tied down well. Could the men have freed themselves? Cole could have dealt with them on his own, but what if something more insidious happened? Bandits? Hostile Indians? A dangerous animal?

Cole was an unusually good shot. Some of the younger gang members would surprise him by throwing rocks or other items into the air, but Cole hit the moving target every single time, so the informal game continued, and its stakes grew. Surely, he’d have used his guns if he were under attack, but what if he removed his belt for some reason?

Ned turned around and urged Nugget to speed along the table-flat mountain top. He made his way down the slope to the base of the mesa and urged Nugget into a trot as soon as it was safe to do so. No more whistling followed that first desperate cry, and the eerie silence that hung above the patch of green in the middle of the desert had his heart palpitating.

Coming down was like getting a glimpse of home. Willows provided shade on either side of the creek reaching away from the road. Water here was plentiful, and the proximity of such precious commodities lured more than just the local wildlife.

Ned swallowed his unease when the small encampment with two lean-to shelters covered by thin white fabric came into view. The old wagon, where he and Cole had dumped the two restrained men, to claim the little oasis for the gang, stood a stone’s throw away, as it had earlier, and the air smelled of coffee rather than blood and gunpowder. Even Thunder was right where Cole left him—by said wagon, picking at the lush grass.

Ned slid from the saddle and ran up to the glowing embers of the small bonfire, only to see Cole resting on his blanket under one of the makeshift shelters. Naked. Not even in his underwear or socks.

Ned stopped in his tracks and stared dumbstruck while insects buzzed in tune with the stream.

It was hardly the first time he’d seen his man naked, yet it made his blood run faster regardless. Slim yet packed with dense muscle, Cole had a wide chest that tapered around the waist into narrow hips Ned adored holding in both hands. The long days of travel had tanned his skin, bringing it ever closer to the orange-and-brown of the magnificent scenery around them, and his hair hung in damp streaks, reminding Ned of the bath they’d taken. There wasn’t a man more handsome, more shapely, nor more arousing than Cole. His strong limbs had a golden sheen in the bright sunshine, and the cocky smile was so alluring Ned found it hard to look away from his face even when nakedness offered a rare chance to stare at the soft cock resting on the bed of coarse black hair.

“Is… what’s going on?”

Cole stretched and bent one of his legs in half, resting his foot on the worn blanket underneath. The shadow cast by the mesa towering above the encampment didn’t do him justice, but Ned didn’t want to rest his head anywhere but on the hard rocks Cole had for pectorals. He’d caress the steep cliffs of Cole’s sides, explore the dark shrubs peppered down his stomach, and dive his hand down the warm gorge between the thighs until Cole’s brown nipples hardened into little pebbles.

Cole smiled at him as if Ned had said it all out loud.

“Join me.”

“There’s people in the wagon,” Ned whispered but stepped closer, confused yet knowing he’d give Cole anything he wanted as long as he watched him with such blatant desire. His mind burned for it too. Tom and the others were more than an hour’s drive from here, and the campsite was well-sheltered from the only road cutting through the area, but worry still ate into his flesh at the thought of someone catching them in the act.