“I see the merit. Adam should have kept his mouth shut.”
“You’re a quick learner, I like that. Keep up that attitude and you might even find yourself a wife among our girls,” Tom said, rising from the pillow he’d been sitting on with a grin meant to express camaraderie. But Ned had seen it years ago too, and knew it could also accompany violence. “Now clean that with water, wrap it with clean cloth and do so every day until the skin heals. One fellow got gangrene a few days after I put the cleaver on him, but let’s hope it won’t come to that with you. I’d rather you keep both those strong arms,” he said and walked off.
Ned shuddered at the thought that he might die because of something as ludicrous as getting a tattoo he’d never wanted from a man he hated to the depth of his bones. But Tom was gone, and there was no point in pondering what-ifs, so he took care to clean the reddened skin while fighting the urge to see whether Cole was still at the water barrel.
A hoot made everyone look up in confusion, but while distorted and unskilled, it was definitely an imitation of the owl call Ned and Cole had mocked on that first night out of Uncle Liam’s ranch.
“What is that, Cole? Feeling lonely?” Mary asked, combing her hair with a smile Ned knew was meant as seductive, even though it stirred nothing in him. Jealousy twitched in his guts like a rattlesnake about to crawl out of its den to strike, but it settled when he realized the girl couldn’t see anything below Cole’s navel from her place by the fire. Had she touched Cole’s flesh the way Ned had allowed himself to in the mining town? Of course she had. Cole wouldn’t have proposed something as forbidden as having relations as a trio otherwise. For a moment, he thought that they could try including Mary for the sake of decency— No. There would be no decency in that kind of arrangement. His brain was just bending reality to find a way toward Cole.
“Just keepin’ you girls on your toes,” Cole told her, rubbing the rag under his armpit where a patch of black hair glistened in the faint light, inviting Ned for an indecent kiss.
Judith, a pretty blonde with curls she carefully maintained every day, chuckled and pulled up her skirt, revealing a red stocking. “You can always push me all the way up to my toes, handsome boy.”
Would Cole want her despite expressing his desire for Ned in no uncertain words earlier? Ned had overheard the girls wondering why Cole had lost interest in getting under their skirts. While it had been none of his business before, now he wondered if his presence wasn’t the reason. Could he possibly occupy Cole’s thoughts the way Cole flooded his? There were plenty of men to choose from in the gang, but he’d heard here and there that women liked the way Cole touched them. That he was good at it. Ned wondered how much experience in these matters Cole had, and heat grew in his skull when he chose to no longer look away from temptation.
He sat next to his tent, smoking a cigarette while the other gang members ate or unpacked their belongings for another night on the road. The wood Ned had chopped before burned bright in the middle of the encampment, but the scorching sensation that burned his flesh didn’t come from there, or the food he’d eaten after his evening wash. It originated deep within his own body.
Cole’s gaze drew him in, and the pleasant aroma of smoke in the air between them might have as well been the scent of Cole’s desire. In the gap between two wagons, his modesty protected with a stack of crates and two barrels, Cole stood naked, his skin alight as he wiped off the sweat and grime of the day. His cheeks shone with soap water, and there was no more dirt to be seen on him, but this wasn’t about cleanliness anymore. The warm light of the bonfire accentuated each muscle with soft shadow and gave a reddish glow to the rivulets of water streaming down Cole’s sides, stomach, back until Ned wished he could pull Cole closer and kiss all that sweet juice off him.
Any other man would have dunked himself in icy water to get rid of a thought so immoral, but it was Ned’s own, and he no longer want to deny himself. His secret desires had always loomed under the surface. When he watched the ranch hands shower and admired their muscular bodies. Or deep in the night, when his cock went so very hard and he imagined how it looked in his hand rather than letting his thoughts wander to ladies’ bosoms. And now, for the first time, he’d met someone who made it clear that he not only wasn’t repulsed by Ned’s needs but shared them.