Laird's Choice by Remmy Duchene (management books to read .txt) 📕

Race hung his head and took a breath. "It's a long story; one I don't really want to get into right now."

"All right. You don't have to tell me. You barely know me. But before you feel too down on yourself let me tell you one thing."

"What's that?"

"We all have our demons, Race. Most of us just hide them better than others."

Race hung his head and sat on the foot of the bed.

He watched Laird eat and couldn't help feeling a pang of tenderness as Laird's hair fell into his face. Race rubbed his palms against his thighs and eased from the bed. "I should go. I have to check on the horses once again before bedtime."

"Bedtime?" Laird questioned, glancing at his watch.

"It's barely… eight o'clock!"

"There's nothing else to do 'round here."

"Well, let's go out. Do something! I came here for a working vacation. I've been cooped up in this house for a week."

"Getting cabin fever?"

Laird laughed. "Trust me. If I was getting cabin fever, you'd know. So, what do you say?"

"I thought you didn't like me."

Laird chuckled. "Because you know, because you're a jerk doesn't mean I can't party with you. Jerks always seem to know how to party."

Race laughed. "I get it. You lead."

"Let me get dressed."

* * * *

Laird hauled on a pair of black pants, designer

shoes, and a dark blue dress shirt. He brushed his wet hair back and shook it out a few times before finger-raking it back. Glancing at himself in the mirror, he dropped some aftershave in one hand, rubbed his palms together then patted the liquid against his neck and rubbed the excess on his shoulders. He then tugged his shirt back in place, undid the top three buttons, and took a breath.

"Laird? What's taking so long?" Race hollered down the hall. "Pull the lead out!"

Laird smiled. He couldn't help it—it was as though they were a married couple. "Keep your pants on! I'm coming."

"Hurry up, I can feel myself getting older."

Laughing, Laird grabbed his wallet, cell phone, and car keys then exited the room. He walked down the hall and was bowled over by how good Race looked. He was

dressed simply in a pair of blue jeans and a black dress shirt with the sleeves folded up to his elbows. He was wearing a straw Stetson and his black hair was brushed back. Looking down, for the first time Laird noticed there were two shapes pushing out from where Race's nipples were supposed to be. He arched a brow but quickly looked away as his mouth watered. He knew they had to be piercings. Inhaling, he cleared his throat. "Where to?"

"I don't know," Race replied, leaning easily against the doorframe. "You're the one who wanted to go out."

"But I don't live around here."

"And I haven't been around here in a long time.

Want to just go for a drive and see what we crash into?"

Laird nodded. "Come on, we'll take my car."

"Good. Because I haven't had a chance to get one yet."

Leading Race out the door and into the garage,

Laird wondered what else about the sexy cowboy he didn't know. What tattoos did he have to go with those delectable piercings? The only way he could be any more turned on at that moment was if Race had a tongue ring. Biting his lower lip in an attempt at quelling the desire rising in him, he hit the remote for the car alarm to the car and unlocked the doors. He slid into the driver's seat and hit the remote.

Race stood out front admiring the car. "This is what you drive, huh? Not bad." He climbed in beside Laird and closed the door.

"You didn't know that?"

"I haven't really had a chance to see it. Each time I hear the engine it's to see your dust as you're gunning it down the drive."

Laird made a face. "So you like?"

"For some reason I feel like a kid in a candy store."

Laird watched the way Race caressed a hand over

the dash then over the leather seat. It was as if he was caressing a lover: slowly, softly, deliberately. Laird licked his lips, biting back the groan he could feel rippling upward from the tips of this toes.

Shaking his head, Laird laughed. "All right, you wanna drive?" He wanted to see that happy look in Race's eyes again. For some reason it turned him on, gave him a heat surge he'd never experienced before. He had to see that look again—the laughter he knew was in Race's body.

"You are joking, right?"

Laird handed him the keys and climbed from the

silver sports car. When he was back in the passenger side, he watched Race's large body slide around the steering wheel before the car purred to life. Race's face lit up then and Laird's heart soared.

This is what a man is supposed to look like.

Soon they were out of the garage with the doors

closing behind them and speeding down the driveway from the ranch. When they turned onto the main road, Race slowed down and Laird managed to peel his eyes away from the cowboy to look out the window. Street lights breezed by overhead as their poles passed the car with a distinct fooooot! Still, fear didn't enter Laird's mind. All he could feel was a certain dazed calm as Race's cologne swirled about his senses.

When they finally stopped, Laird blinked and

looked up as Race turned off the ignition.

"We're here."

"Where?" Laird bent his head forward to look out the car.

"The place is still here. It's hard to believe. It's called Cedar— a gay club, you don't mind, right? I can't believe it's still here."

Laird smiled. "Of course not." He pushed from the car and slammed the door. Looking up, the moniker flashed a dark red with the club's name spelt out. He waited until Race handed over the keys to the valet before turning again to look at the building. "This is nice."

"I used to love nice things, you