Kade nodded.

Who knows about it? Have you told my dad what you saw me doin' with another man?

You mean men?

Jesus. Men. Who knows? Kane? Colt? Trevor?

I don't know. I haven't told anyone, Dag. It ain't my business to do so. Kade stared at his cousin, who was looking more than a little forlorn.

A long pause hung between them.

It'd kill my dad to know I swing both ways. He's got a dream of me settlin' down with a local gal and raisin' a passel of kids on the home place. Like Colby done. That ain't me Kade. It ain't never been me. When I was on the circuit I was the real me. Happy. Doin' what I loved. Now, I'm stuck. I got no skills beyond rodeo. No place to go. I'm livin' a lie and I fuckin' hate it.

Booze isn't the answer. It ain't gonna make any of this go away. It'll just make you more reckless and bitter.

What would you do?

Ah, hell, Dag, how am I supposed to answer that?.

No. I'm serious. If your life was a mess, what would you do?

Sober up, first. Then tell Uncle H how you feel about ranchin'. If he's a jerk, have him leave the responsibilities to Chassie. Move on. As hard as it is for me to imagine leavin' here, leavin' my family, I'd do it in a fuckin' heartbeat if I was as miserable as you.

Another bout of silence stretched.

Thanks. I'll think on it. Dag gulped the last of the booze in the bottle.

You do that. Any time you need to talk, you call me.

Can I ask you somethin'?

I guess.

How come you ain't married?

That'd come out of left field. Haven't found the right woman yet. Kade thought of Skylar. Even though he'd only know her for a short time she felt right.

So, as much as you disapprove of what me and Colt and Kane have been doin', it ain't any worse than endin' up like Cord.

Dag didn't offer any additional explanations as he shuffled off to bed.

And Kade knew Dag was actually right about one thing. He'd been using his responsibilities to the ranch as an excuse to keep his life stuck in a holding pattern. He just didn't have a clue as to how to go about changing it.

He climbed in his truck and headed home.

Chapter Sixteen.

AJ stopped at the C-Mart for a Diet Mountain Dew and ice before she drove to Cord's place.

No yard lights were on when she started down the long driveway. She wondered if he'd be embarrassed about her offer and grouchy to be the bearer of bad news to the rest of the McKays about Colt.

Why did the responsibilities always fall on his shoulders?

Keely had had major concerns about Colt's behavior for a long time. Her intuition when it came to her family was largely unrealized in the McKay clan.

Last year at Carter and Macie's wedding reception, Keely had informed Colt he'd find happiness when he stopped looking for it in the bottom of a bottle or a condom box. Colt had laughed and patted her on the head which was a typical response to her from her big, burly brothers and a reaction that drove Keely insane.

AJ shot a quick glance at Cord's dark house and dialed Keely's cell number. She answered on the first ring.

Hey, BFF, you okay?

Keely sniffed. No. Colt is such a dumbass. I can't believe he'd do that to Cord. He worships Cord. We all do. She sniffled again. Did you see what happened?

Most of it.

Was it awful?

Yeah. I've never seen Cord so mad. Not his usual quiet, dangerous mad. It was his I wanna rip someone's head off and watch me do it with one hand, kind of mad. I've only seen it once and that was enough.

AJ listened to Keely's quiet cries. I wish I was there, K, because I know how much this stuff freaks you out.

Thanks. But it's more important you're there for Cord. He told me you were coming over.

He did?

Yeah. But I knew you'd go to him. I knew you wouldn't let him hurt alone. Keely's voice dropped to a whisper. He is hurting, AJ, not just where Colt punched him. Don't let him push you away. Be there for him. Someone needs to be. Call me tomorrow.

AJ followed the curved walkway to the front door. She stepped inside. No sign of Cord in the living room. After putting the ice in the freezer, she heard the shower running upstairs.

He'd left the door to the master bathroom open a crack. Cord? Just wanted to let you know I'm up here so you don't think I'm an intruder and shoot me.

No answer.

She saw the pile of clothes in front of the dresser. Not her place to wash them, but Cord didn't need a bloody reminder of the evening's events. She jammed them in the overflowing hamper and faced the bed. Not ideal, but it'd work. She peeled back the comforter and ripped away the top sheet, shoving the pillows to the floor.

AJ made a quick trip to the kitchen for supplies. She was arranging everything on the nightstand when the bathroom door squeaked and he limped out.

Cord wore a towel. A small towel. Even when her hormones did the boot scootin' boogie from the sight of all that yummy bare man flesh and bulging muscles, she noticed the dejected set of his shoulders, the swollen bump on his jaw, the mouse under his eye and the cut on his cheekbone.

He sighed. That bad, huh?

What?

You should see the look on your face, AJ.

This look? She made a funny face and his faint smile appeared.

Like I said, baby doll, you're a real laugh a minute. He kept a hand on the towel and pointed. The bed make you so mad that you ripped it apart?

No. Just getting it ready.

Cord sighed again. No offense, but I'm not really in the mood tonight. In fact, I'll probably be lousy company so it might be best if you went on home.

Huh-uh. The hottest man I know is stark naked right in front of me, no way am I going anywhere. Lay face down on the mattress, McKay.

This bossy side of you is new.

Hah. Ky wouldn't agree. He once said I was as bossy as well, you if I recall.

He smiled slightly again.

Besides, I hide my bossiness except when I'm in professional mode.

Professional?

What part of 'massage therapist' is confusing to you?

You're gonna give me a massage?

Well, you already told me a blowjob was out for options.

Amy Jo Foster, that is beyond ornery.

She laughed because she'd actually shocked him. I like it when you get all prissy.

I like it when you get all raunchy, he countered.

Good. She patted the bed. Lose the towel. Lay on your stomach and spread your arms above your head in a Y and prepare to be wowed.

Cord did exactly as he was told.

Usually I'm standing, but tonight I have to improvise. Here.

He looked at the baggie full of ice wrapped in a towel. What's this for?

Your jaw. It'll keep the swelling down.

Something beyond gratitude shone in his eyes. Thanks.

You're welcome. Try to relax. Remember this isn't sexual.

I'll try to remember that, he said dryly.

You want music playing?

No. This is fine.

AJ poured oil on her palms and started at the base of his skull, working her fingers down his neck. Cord remained tense, not that she blamed him. A first time professional massage was different than the well-meaning back rub from a loved one. He finally loosened up with a deep, heartfelt groan of satisfaction when she moved down to work on his shoulders.

You are amazingly good at this, AJ.

Thank you.

No. Seriously, wonderfully, awesomely, astoundingly good. How much school do you have left before you graduate?

One trimester, which is mostly clinical work. Then I can hang out my shingle.

You'll be overrun with customers. And marriage proposals from all sorts of men who've experienced your magic hands.

Would that last group include you?

Don't go there, AJ. She kept her mouth shut and concentrated on his biceps and triceps.

But Cord wouldn't let it go. Where you thinkin' of settin' up shop?

Keely and I talked about opening our own place either in Sundance or Moorcroft, but that was before things changed.

Cord tensed up again. What sort of things?

Things like Mama selling the ranch. Things like Jenn and the kids moving to Billings. Things like my potential partner/roommate/BFF Keely neglecting to tell me she'd rather not be a massage therapist.

What? What does she want to do?

To continue her schooling and get a dual degree as a certified physical therapist and an occupational therapist.

Where does that leave you?

Lost. In Denver. It's a real crapshoot at this point where I'll end up come January.

He didn't respond.

She allowed her brain to slide into professional mode as she finished his upper back. On to the gluteus maximus or the best butt she'd ever had her hands on. How could she stay neutral while rubbing and stroking perfectly squeezable man flesh? Without thinking of how she'd clutched it tightly while Cord pumped in and out of her with such passion?

If she looked closely, she might even see scratches from her fingernails.

What's wrong?

Here's the deal, McKay. It's up to you whether I skip your very fine butt and move on to your very fine legs.

Why up to me?

In a situation where I'm not intimately acquainted with the client, it's not a problem. We both know that's not the case. I've had your tight tush in my hands. I don't know if I can massage it without remembering my death grip the last time you Are you tryin' to give me a hard-on, AJ? 'Cause it's workin'.