Treat Me (One Night with Sole Regret 8)

“Still think you’re too good for my grass?” Owen called to the cows. “How do you feel about viewing my ass?”

Shade took his eyes off his phone screen to scrutinize Owen more closely. He could rhyme lines of equal length; was he capable of writing profound lyrics? Ones not about mooning cows?

When the herd began to bellow in distress—and who could blame them—an enormous, pissed-off bull popped up over the hill. When he recognized that his herd had been insulted, his massive body tensed and he swished his tufted tail threateningly before releasing a deep bellow.

“Owen, I think you’d better make a run for it,” Shade said.

Owen glanced over his shoulder. With an “Oh, shit!” he raced toward the gate, struggling to keep his pants up. “Open the gate!” he yelled. “Open the fucking gate!”

Shade had been laughing so hard, it hadn’t occurred to him that Owen could be in mortal danger. And he’d been too busy snapping pictures to think about helping.

The bull was rapidly closing in on Owen; there was no way he would beat the animal to the gate. The massive beast’s hoofbeats thundered across the ground and churned up puffs of dust as the bull attempted to trample the human who dared insult his cows. Owen dodged left and scaled the plank fence beside the gate like an expert rodeo clown.

Shade waved one hand at the bull, trying to gain its attention. “Hey, Ribeye. Over here!”

Distracted by Shade, the bull hesitated long enough for Owen to flip over the top of the fence and land on his back in the long grass between the road and the pasture. He lay there for a long moment, catching his breath, while on the other side of the fence the bull pawed the ground, snorted, and flicked its tail in annoyance.

“Are you okay?” Shade asked, chuckling at Owen.

“I’m alive!”

“I’m not sure that fence will hold back a pissed-off bull. We’d better get out of here.”

Owen dragged himself off the ground and stumbled back to the truck. He’d mooned the cows, but he gave the bull the finger.

“You’re fucking crazy,” Shade said as he slid into the truck beside Owen.

“Made you laugh.” Owen grinned at Shade. “Did you get any pictures?”

Shade handed him his cellphone and Owen flipped through the shots, laughing so hard at what must have been a terrifying situation that Shade wondered if the guy needed a psychiatrist.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Shade asked.

Owen hesitated, the smile dropping from his friendly face. “Um, yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You seem a little crazier than usual.”

Owen shrugged. “Just a little stressed.”

“About?”

“Caitlyn.”

Shade scowled. “I thought her name was Lindsey.”

“Lindsey’s the reason I’m stressed about Caitlyn. I was hoping to make her a more permanent part of my life.”

“You’re seeing someone seriously?”

“I’m trying to. I met Caitlyn at a sex club several nights ago. She’s everything I’ve ever wanted in a woman. Smart, sexy, rich . . .” He grinned his best boy-toy grin.

“A cougar?”

“Oh, yeah. You know I like my meat well-seasoned.”

Shade laughed. “Typical. So she knows about Lindsey?”

“She was there when Lindsey showed up. I don’t know what to do. I’m supposed to see Caitlyn this weekend and make it up to her, but how am I going to pull that off while I’m taking Lindsey to Austin?”

“And where’s this other chick from?”

“Houston.”

“So drop Lindsey off tonight and head directly for Houston. Don’t look back.”

“I’m sure that’ll go over well with my mom. Hey, Mom, I might have gotten this woman pregnant. Can you keep an eye on her for a few months while I go fool around with this other woman? The one I actually want to be with. I know how much you like me to date older women.” His words dripped with sarcasm.

“You could tell Lindsey to figure out her own problems,” Shade said, squinting at the map on his phone that seemed to be leading them nowhere.

“But if it is my baby, I’d feel like shit if I disregarded his mother.”

Shade rubbed his nose with the side of his finger. He’d never understood where Owen was coming from, and this situation was no different. “If Lindsey had been your girlfriend or something, your concern would make sense to me, but she slept with every person on the bus that night, including her best friend. If you act like a whore—”

Shade’s words were cut off by Owen’s hard punch to his arm. Shade rubbed the aching spot and scowled.

“Don’t talk about her like that,” Owen said. “We all make mistakes.”

Why was he defending her? Shade didn’t get it at all. But, whatever. If Owen wanted the woman to be his problem, Shade wasn’t going to beg him to hand over the responsibility.

Shade’s phone produced a familiar tone. It was an alert that told him that Adam was within a certain radius again. They must be driving down parallel roads or something. Shade had put the app on Adam’s phone over a year ago, when he was still struggling with addiction. He wasn’t sure why he kept it now that Adam was clean. Shade supposed he still didn’t trust him not to do something completely idiotic.

“I wonder if Adam is busy,” Shade said. “The limo driver said he rented a bike, so maybe he’s driving around. Maybe he’d like to eat crawdads with us.”

He had no idea why Adam would be riding a motorcycle out in the middle of nowhere—because he and Owen were definitely in the middle of nowhere—but this was the perfect opportunity to boot him in the ass. Shade hoped Adam was riding to clear his head so he could write lyrics. But more than likely he was fucking his girlfriend in the bayou, which would likely only muddle his thoughts further.

Owen shrugged. “We can ask.”

“Text him,” Shade said.

Owen reached into his pocket, but Shade handed him his phone. “Use mine.”

“I’ll have to send him a picture of my cow prank. See what he says.”

Shade snorted. “He’ll think you’ve lost your mind.”

“But I’m sure it’ll make him laugh.” Owen sent the picture and waited. “He’s not responding.”

“If he’s on a bike, he’ll have to pull over to answer,” Shade said.

“True.” He sent several more messages. Eventually Adam started to respond.

“Where the hell are you guys?” Owen read from the screen.

“Here, give it back to me,” Shade said.

“You shouldn’t text and drive,” Owen said, but he handed him the phone.

Shade rarely texted more than a couple of words at a time; he used his voice-to-text app almost exclusively. After explaining to Adam where they were, he asked him to meet them for lunch. He was surprised when Adam agreed. He seemed to be in a much better mood than he had been that morning. Shade decided he wouldn’t bust Adam’s balls about not writing lyrics until they were back at the venue. Well, unless Adam broached the subject.

“So he’s going to meet us there?”

“If he can find it,” Shade said. “Where in the hell is this place?” Besides the narrow highway and some fencing, Shade hadn’t seen any manmade structures for miles. “Are you sure it exists?”

Owen consulted Shade’s map app. “We’ll be turning in a few miles.”

“Well, don’t let me miss it or we’ll end up in Mississippi.”

“Or Florida.”