Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 87067 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 435(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87067 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 435(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
A new crowd of people passed through the security checkpoint, amping up the noise in the immediate area. It bounced off the floors and slick walls before racing up toward the ceiling. People were excited to be home or on vacation. There were hugs and laughter.
He couldn’t wait to get out of there. He hated crowds in buildings. Not so much due to his time in the Army, but more that he now spent his entire life outside where the ceiling was the great blue sky stretching on for as far as the eye could see. There was always space and room to breathe. Here in the airport, he might as well have been trapped in a coffin.
He tilted to the left and right, trying to see over the crowd when it suddenly parted like Moses with the Red Sea.
Holy. Shit.
JB was afraid he was going to swallow his goddamn tongue. The hottest hunk of man he’d seen in far too long was walking through the checkpoint. Dressed in dark-blue jeans, he had a black T-shirt stretched over broad, muscular shoulders and an equally powerful chest. Oh, damn. He needed a piece of that. He wanted to pin him, fuck him, be fucked by him. One night and JB was sure he’d never remember his own name again.
But no, he wasn’t doing the one-night stand any longer.
No. He needed tomorrow and forever. He needed real love. At least that was what he was trying to tell himself, but he was seriously wondering if he could make an exception for this guy. Just one last hurrah to insanity and then he’d be on the “straight” and narrow again. He—fuck, the guy was walking right toward him. Did he look familiar? Oh, gawd! He did look familiar. The quiet guy. The quiet guy was Cole.
Oh God, the quiet guy was hot.
“Hey,” the man said in a surprisingly soft but deep voice. “You’re JB, right?”
“Yep, that’s me. Cole McCord?” he replied, trying hard not to grin like an idiot as he extended his hand to the dangerously hot man. He needed to get the damn blood flowing to his brain before Cole noticed that he was becoming uncomfortable in his jeans.
Cole gripped his hand in a firm hold without squeezing it to death like he had something to prove. It was a nice hand. Strong and faintly calloused. Apparently he didn’t spend all of his time behind his computer. Well, his muscles definitely argued that.
“I want to thank you for allowing me to stay with you. I’m really sorry for the inconvenience.”
JB laughed and released Cole’s hand. “No inconvenience at all. We’ve got plenty of room.” He leaned in a little and smirked. “Plus, I kind of feel like I owe your boss for saving my ass the last time I was in town.”
“I have a feeling he considers you even since you helped to protect Noah.”
JB made a face and wobbled his hand. Maybe they were even, but it didn’t matter. When a friend needed help, he didn’t hesitate. He offered a hand with a smile.
“Is that all your gear?” JB asked when Cole fell silent. He jerked his head toward the black duffel-shaped bag hanging off one of his shoulders.
“No, these are my clothes. I checked all my computer gear. I planned to work from your ranch. Rowe told me you have high-speed Internet?” There was no missing the doubt and worry that filled that last statement or maybe question. He definitely didn’t sound too sure of himself.
JB cackled as he led the way to the baggage carousels. “Yeah, we gots the Internet.” Cole narrowed his eyes, and JB laughed harder. “Yes, we have a dedicated T1 line out in the middle of nowhere. We might be a cattle ranch, but we do require a surprising amount of equipment that all needs to be networked together. And then all the ranch hands have their phones on the network so we can communicate and pass along information.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to imply—”
JB cut him off with a nudge of his elbow. “I’m just teasing you. It’s all good.”
As they stood with the rest of the people from Cole’s flight gathered around the baggage carousel, JB found himself struggling to make small talk. The big guy was quiet—no surprise there. Maybe he was tired. He’d caught an early-ass flight from Cincinnati. He probably wanted to fall asleep where he stood.
So naturally, JB said, “You ever want to climb onto that belt and slowly surf it around the airport?”
Cole’s eyebrows quirked as he glanced over at JB. “Surf it?”
“Yeah. I mean, you can sit on it, but that doesn’t seem like a lot of fun. Standing on it with your arms extended. Slo-mo surfing.”
“Only problem is that slo-mo makes it easier for security to catch you.”