Free Duck Duck Ghost by Rhys Ford Page B

related to her. Tell you what, let’s grab your shit and get it into the house, and you and Tristan can go canoodle in the barn or something. Go take a roll in the hay. It’ll be good for you both. Nothing gets the juices going like a night in the country.”
    “With my luck, he’s allergic, but it’s worth a shot. Hell, I’m desperate, Sey. I really fucked up.”
    “What did you do?”
    “Kind of accused him of doping me, but really, it was something Mom left behind. He was innocent, and I sort of lost my shit. Totally on me,” Wolf confessed. “I don’t know how much of it was me seeing pink elephants or how scared shitless I am about loving him. Fuck, Sey. I think about him all the damned time. Every other guy I could just walk away from. Not him. Not Tristan. And it scares the wrinkled skin off my ball sack.”
    “Well, then, you better pray he goes easy on you, because, Wolf, you’ve got it bad, and there’s no way in hell you’re going to get out of it alive.”
    There had to be a little hope, because Tristan looked his way just as Wolf stared down the length of the lawn at the paddock. Tristan gave him a smile—shy and faint with a touch of lust in his eyes. Wolf knew that look well. He’d lived for that look, and his heart did a little jig when Tristan brushed as much of the calf hair as he could off his hands and walked toward them.
    It didn’t take Tris long to get to Wolf’s side, and Wolf grabbed at Tristan’s hips before he could slide past. Tristan smelled like sugar, sunshine, and a bit of the farm. Wrinkling his nose in gross exaggeration, Wolf leaned over to sniff at Tristan’s skin.
    “Mmmmm… eau de baby cow. My favorite.” Wolf chuckled as he nipped at Tristan’s neck. “Saw you made a new friend.”
    “Yeah, he seems to like getting his head scratched.” Tristan ducked to block Wolf’s teeth, but he didn’t pull away. “Is there a bathroom inside, or am I going to have to go look for a tree?”
    “Outhouse,” Wolf lied with a broad grin. “Half-moon on the door and—”
    A loud boom shook the air, and the SUV’s passenger side mirror blew off, bits of metal and glass pebbling up into the air around them. Wolf shoved Tristan down behind the side of the vehicle, and he shouted as another shotgun blast went off, shot peppering the fender and the dirt near their heads.
    Hooking an arm around Tristan’s waist, Wolf pulled his lover back to the rear, trying to keep the thick tires between them and whoever was shooting at them. The cattle were bellowing in terror, and off in the distance, something screamed in a high-pitched wail. The air grew thick with the smell of trampled grass as the Highland cattle fled the front of the paddock, quickly becoming shaggy red dots on the far hillocks, with the calf clustered in on all sides by the protective herd.
    Sey lay on the dirt behind the SUV, her smile wavering a bit when Wolf reached her, dragging a stunned Tristan behind him. Another blast hit a mock-orange bush, and the air went fragrant with green and blown-to-bits flowers.
    From the house, a quaking old voice called out to them, feeble but menacing. “I’m going to run your fucking fed asses off our property! You ain’t got no business here! I’ve got my rights.”
    “You hurt?” Wolf ran his hands over Tristan’s prone body, checking for injuries. The blond shook his head, but he sounded winded, and his face was pale with shock. “Stay down. Sey and I have to have a little chat.” Glaring at his cousin over his lover’s long legs, Wolf cocked his head toward the house. “When the fuck were you going to tell me Aunt Gildy was here, and who the hell gave her a shotgun?”

Chapter 6

     
    “Y OUR FAMILY is nuts.” Tristan was talking to himself. Wolf wasn’t even nearby, but the sentiment remained. He didn’t need his family to commit him. He’d found his own loony bin, right there in a place called SLO. Turning around, he shook his head at the insanity