Taylor groaned. "I work the next six days straight. My boss is an ass and loves to screw with our schedule."

Sam immediately disliked Taylor's boss. "How about Saturday?"

"What time?" Taylor asked.

Sam pushed away from the car. Taylor seemed to stiffen as he approached. He placed a chaste kiss on the man's cheek before pulling back. "Early morning. That way you can have breakfast with us before our day gets started. Six okay?"

Crossing his arms in a defensive gesture, Taylor moved toward his car door. He was putting distance between them. Sam covertly inhaled the scent of the prairie and wildflowers, and had to bite back the growl that threatened to escape.

"Six sounds great. I'll be here." Taylor chewed his lower lip before saying, "I had a great time, Sam. Thanks for inviting me."

Sam spread his arms wide. "The answer is out there, Neo, and it's looking for you, and it will find you if you want it to."

A peculiar expression came over Taylor's face. If Sam wasn't mistaken, it was longing.

"Maybe I want it to find me," Taylor said before he slipped into his car and pulled from the driveway.

Sam stood there and watched the bright taillights grow smaller and more distant before the car turned onto the main road and disappeared.

"And I'll be the one you find," Sam muttered as he walked back inside.

Chapter Three.

Saturday had come faster than Taylor expected it to. And to his surprise, he was looking forward to spending the day with Sam. That was a switch. He'd been asked out a few times since moving to Bear County, but Taylor had turned them all down. He hadn't been ready to date again and still didn't know why he'd agreed to see Sam.

But he was glad that he had gone over to Sam's. Taylor had been telling the truth when he told Sam that he'd had a good time. He even liked the guy's friends.

But today almost didn't happen.

Mr. Dresel had tried to schedule Taylor to work this morning, but Cameron had saved his ass. His best friend had volunteered to take Taylor's place.

Taylor owed him one.

He had given Cameron the details of his date, not that there were many to give. Taylor had spent Monday night sitting in a room full of men as he watched a few movies. The conversation afterward had been refreshing, but nothing spectacular-at least not in Cameron's opinion. Taylor, on the other hand, had enjoyed being around Sam.

Cameron had been disappointed in Taylor's evening. Taylor hadn't been. But when he had told Cameron that he was going back on Saturday morning, his friend had just smiled and thrown his arm around Taylor's shoulder, congratulating Taylor on coming out of his shell.

After a quick shower, Taylor dressed in his normal attire. Screw it. If he was going to be around Sam, then the guy was going to see the real Taylor Crumb.

Taylor had on eyeliner, black lipstick, and he'd even brushed his eyelids with a light dusting of diva-green eye shadow. His chains were in place. His nails were polished black. He'd tousled his hair with gel to make the strands stick out everywhere.

Taylor was ready.

The moon was still shining as he got into his car. Taylor doubted that even the roosters were awake yet. He hadn't gotten up this early since his time at his uncle's ranch. He yawned as he started his car.

The only other vehicle that Taylor spotted on his way to Sam's was a patrol car tucked away on a service road, the hood of the car facing the main road. Either the cop was fast asleep or waiting for a speeder. Taylor kept to the speed limit. Wouldn't want to get a ticket and ruin his day.

He had to squint to see the entrance of the driveway that led to Sam's house. Even with his high beams on, it wasn't easy to spot. Lush bushes and a spattering of trees obscured the driveway. Finding it in the daylight had been a lot easier.

As his tires crunched over the gravel, Taylor stared at the darkened house. No lights were on. He checked his watch. It was 5:45 in the morning. Sam had said six, right?

He considered turning around until the porch light flickered on. The front door opened and Sam walked barefooted onto the porch with a coffee mug in his hand. He looked freshly showered and delicious enough to eat. The man was wearing a pair of denim shorts that cut off at the knees and a ribbed T-shirt that emphasized his brawny shoulders.

Taylor pulled up next to a row of trucks and cars. There were even shiny motorcycles gleaming under the moonlight. He parked and got out, closing his door quietly.

"Morning," Sam said before taking a sip from his mug. A gentle breeze blew Sam's scent toward Taylor. It was a combination of soap and the heady smell of cedar. The guy was freshly shaven and his dark-blond hair was combed to stylish perfection.

"Hi," Taylor said as he gripped his keys in his hand and walked toward the porch. "I thought I'd gotten the time mixed up." He climbed the wooden steps, using the metal railing to keep himself steady. Sam was so damn gorgeous that Taylor felt a bit dizzy.

"Right on time," Sam said. His voice was a deep baritone that made Taylor shiver as he stood under the stars, gazing up at the man. "The men should be up soon. You can help me with breakfast. I have some fresh-ground coffee brewing."

Taylor walked onto the porch and had an urge to lean into the man. He wanted to soak up Sam's scent. He wanted to roll in it. His reaction to Sam was a bit startling. "You might be a bit disappointed. I'm not a very good cook."

Sam opened the screen door and stepped aside. "It's never too late to learn."

The house was still dark. Taylor's eyes had to adjust. The porch light had partially blinded him. Sam pressed his strong hand into the small of Taylor's back as he led him toward the kitchen. There was an overhead light on by the counter, but the rest of the kitchen was in shadows. Sam flipped a switch and the room flooded with light. Taylor blinked a few times before his eyes became accustomed to the brightness.

The kitchen was large and had plenty of counter space. There was a rack above the island that held a medley of pots and pans. The marble countertops gleamed and there were very few appliances. Now that Taylor had time to look around, he noticed how efficient the room was. There was no clutter. Everything was spaced out neatly. If this was Sam's favorite room, it showed. The place was spotless.

Sam poured Taylor a cup of coffee. "Cream or sugar?"

"Just a bit of cream." Taylor wasn't sure if he should stand or sit. He was nervous. Being with Sam made Taylor want things that scared him-things that had gotten him into a bad situation in the past. Sam seemed different, but so had Todd. The man had been a charmer, going out of his way to please Taylor when they'd first started dating.

Taylor wasn't going to put himself in that kind of situation again. Yet, here he stood in Sam's kitchen. Was Sam truly different or was Taylor setting himself up for heartbreak again? Cameron's words echoed in his ears and Taylor inwardly sighed. He'd give Sam a chance. But at the first sign of trouble, Taylor would haul ass. He wasn't going to stick around and hope things changed if what he and Sam had started going downhill.

Never again.

Sam handed him a cup before dropping a quick kiss on Taylor's cheek. He'd done the same thing the first night that Taylor was here. The man's lips were soft, inviting. Taylor pressed the mug to his lips to hide his delighted smile. He still wondered why Sam was interested in him. The guy could get any man he wanted. Why him?

"Sausage, gravy, and biscuits," Sam said. He set his coffee mug on the island and headed toward the refrigerator. "A simple but filling breakfast."

Taylor clutched his mug like a lifeline as he asked, "What do you want me to do?"

Sam squatted in front of the refrigerator, digging in one of the drawers, his lower back exposed where his T-shirt rode up. Taylor's eyes fixated on the small patch of tanned flesh. Sam stood up holding two long rolls of sausage in his hand. "Can you fry this up?"

Taylor rolled his eyes. "I can handle stirring meat around in a pan."

Sam winked at him. "Good, then I can start the gravy."

They worked side by side as Taylor stirred the sausage and Sam worked hard at the gravy.

"Taste this," Sam said. He grabbed a wooden spoon from a drawer and scooped it through the white mix. He held it up, another hand hovering just below the spoon to catch anything that might drip.

Taylor parted his lips as Sam gently laid the spoon inside his mouth. He licked the spoon as their eyes locked and then Taylor grinned. "It tastes great."

Sam wiped his thumb over the side of Taylor's mouth, pulling his finger away. There was a spot of gravy on his thumb. Taylor watched as Sam sucked if off of his finger. The gesture hadn't been overtly erotic, but Taylor found himself slightly panting, nonetheless.

After lowering the heat to let the gravy simmer, Sam said, "Biscuits."

Taylor stood there absently stirring the sausage around as he watched Sam pull out flour and other ingredients.

"You make homemade biscuits?"

Sam frowned. "Is there any other way to make them?"

Taylor shrugged. "Cameron uses the kind that comes in a can. No fuss, no muss."

"Cameron?" Sam grabbed a mixing bowl and went to work making the dough. Next he spread flour over the shiny countertop and then tossed the mixture down, spreading it out with a rolling pin. Taylor watched, but knew he would never remember the steps.

"My roommate and best friend," Taylor answered.

"Sausage."

"Huh?"

Sam nodded toward the stove. "Take the sausage off the fire before you overcook it."

Taylor jumped as if Sam had poked him and then grabbed an oven mitt, moving the cast iron skillet onto the cool burner on the back. Sam reached up and grabbed a metal strainer before handing it off to Taylor. Taylor placed the strainer in the sink and then dumped the pan of sausage into it.

After cutting the dough into perfect circles and placing them on a baking sheet, Sam slid them into the oven. He grabbed the strainer from the sink and then dumped the sausage into the gravy mix.

"You make cooking look so easy." Taylor stepped aside as Sam worked. He didn't want to get in the man's way.

"I've been in the kitchen since I was five. I've always been fascinated by the art of cooking. My mom taught me a lot, but it was my grandmother who helped hone my skills."

Taylor found himself captivated with Sam's life and wanted to learn more. "Father?"

"He was a trucker and was gone a lot. But he's a great guy. Taught me how to work with my hands."

"How so?"

"Woodworking mostly," Sam said as he removed the gravy from the burner and set it aside. He grabbed his coffee and took a sip. "A lot of the furniture in our home was handmade."

"A man of many trades," Taylor said. He thought about what skills he had and realized he had none. He wasn't good with his hands, and his cooking sucked. Math was his worst subject, poetry was foreign to him, and he couldn't sing worth a lick. He had no talents whatsoever. No, that wasn't true. He knew how to take a whipping like a champ.

Stop thinking like that. Taylor shoved his hands into his front pockets and concentrated on what Sam was doing, forcing the memories away. When he noticed that Sam was cleaning up, Taylor dived in to help. They had the kitchen clean and the table set in less than ten minutes.

The sound of footsteps overhead signaled the men waking. Taylor heard the soft cry of a baby. And then footsteps sounded on the steps behind him. Taylor turned to see a few of the guys coming downstairs.

"That's what I'm talking about," Stripper said as he entered the kitchen, clapping his hands together before rubbing them back and forth. "Taylor needs to come over more often if you're going to cook like this."

Sam chucked the hand towel he was holding at Stripper's head. "Don't even act like I starve you."

Taylor chuckled at the banter.

Stripper smiled at Taylor. "You look good in makeup."

Taylor sobered and moved to the other side of the table. He wasn't sure if the guy was making fun of him. No one had ever complimented his makeup before, and he wasn't sure what to say. He gripped the back of one of the chairs and watched as the kitchen slowly filled.

Sam moved over to him, placing his hand on the small of Taylor's back once again. "You do look good this morning. I like it."

His compliment was softly spoken, as if it were a whispered secret between them. Sam's smile was genuine, so Taylor unruffled his feathers. He shot a glance at Stripper, but the guy was already seated and filling his plate.

Sam leaned in close. "Stripper wasn't making fun of you. I think he has a crush on you." The man's tone was light and Taylor finally relaxed.

"Sorry," Taylor whispered back, "but my dance card is already full."

Sam chuckled as he pulled Taylor's seat out for him. "That's good. I'd hate to have to kill the guy for making a move on you."

There was no mistaking the possessiveness in Sam's tone. Was the guy serious? Would he hurt his friend over Taylor? Taylor didn't want to find out. He'd had enough of overbearing men to last him a lifetime.

Gabe sat next to him, cradling his daughter in his arms. Taylor wanted to ask about his and Legend's situation, where the mother was, and how the two ended up with a baby. But he kept his mouth shut. The little girl twisted her head around and gazed up at Taylor. Her pretty amber eyes were filled with curiosity.

"How old is she?" Taylor asked as Sam placed two hot biscuits on his plate.

"Seven months," Gabe answered. "Her name is Sofia."

Without thought, Taylor reached over and brushed his knuckle over her cherub cheek. She smiled and grabbed his finger, gnawing on it. He chuckled and let her. When he glanced up, the entire table of men was staring at him.

Taylor pulled his finger away and cleared his throat. He glanced at Sam to see something strange in the man's eyes-yearning? Taylor had to be mistaken.

"You helped with this?" Colton asked. Taylor was surprised to find he remembered everyone's names. They had all introduced themselves the first night he was here and Taylor had feared he'd forget. But the names came to him easily.

"I stirred the sausage," Taylor answered. "I don't think that's considered cooking."

Sam bumped shoulders with him. "Don't be so modest."

The men were glancing between Sam and Taylor. Why? He couldn't understand what was so strange about Sam inviting him over. It couldn't be because Sam was gay. Legend and Gabe were a couple. Taylor tried to ignore the overt stares as he enjoyed his breakfast.

"Knock it off," Sam growled. Taylor wasn't sure who Sam was talking to, but the stares ceased and the men started chattering around the table. Laughter and boisterous voices filled the air as everyone polished off Sam's cooking. Taylor was glad he was no longer the center of attention.

Sofia twisted in Gabe's arm as her father talked with Legend. She smiled at Taylor, her eyes wide and bright. Her hair was the color of cinnamon and twisted into corkscrew curls.

She held out a Cheerio to him. It was soggy and half-eaten. She was gumming the other half. Her little jaws worked as she pushed her hand closer. Taylor took the offered treat and pretended to eat it. He stuffed the soggy piece next to his plate, out of sight. She giggled and twisted, grabbing another Cheerio from the table where a handful was sitting. She offered him the next one.

Taylor pretended to eat each piece she gave him. When she turned, he slipped the dry ones back into her little pile. She was too young to realize that her stack of cereal wasn't dwindling. She just kept right on feeding him.

"I think she likes you," Sam said as he placed his arm over the back of Taylor's chair. "I've never seen Sofia share her food before." One of his fingers traced over Taylor's back in lazy circles and Taylor found it...comforting.

"And I'm a sucker for a pretty face," Taylor said as he accepted the next piece of dried treat.