Free Shooting Star by Carol Lynne Page A

on or talk about. He shrugged like it was no big deal. “My ex wanted me gone so he could bring his new boy toy in, so I believe he paid one of the extras to file a false harassment claim against me.”
    Priest sneered. “I knew there was a reason I never liked that fucker. I don’t know him personally, but he’s always come off like a jerk on the show.”
    “He wasn’t always like that, but, yeah, that’s a pretty good assessment of who he’s become. It seemed the more popular the show became, the more outrageous his demands.” Brac didn’t mention Randal’s affair with the producer or his recreational drug use, although the last couple of times Brac had seen him out he’d wondered just how recreational the drugs had become. And why the fuck am I defending that asshole?
    “So what’s next for you?” Priest asked.
    Brac finished his beer and tossed the can into the trash.
    “Aren’t you going to recycle that?” Priest asked with a horrified expression.
    With a sigh, Brac dug in the trash until he came back out with the can. “Sorry.” At home recycling was second nature, but he’d had more important things on his mind since arriving in Wyoming. He rinsed the can and set it beside the sink.
    “I was offered a spot on The Jackals , but I decided against doing another hour-long series.” He found a plastic grocery sack and dropped the can inside before pulling another beer out of the refrigerator.
    “So what do you want to do?” Priest asked.
    “No fucking clue. I told my agent to put feelers out for guest spots and movie roles. I think if I could do a couple of those a year, I’d have more than enough to live on and only end up working a couple of months total.”
    Priest took a sip of his tea. “Why the sudden change in direction?”
    Brac wasn’t about to tell Priest of his hopes for the future. “Just time for a change. I like it here. The town’s friendly when someone’s not shooting the people I care about,” he added.
    “You care about Jessup?” Priest asked, staring at Brac .
    Squaring his shoulders, Brac nodded. “I’d like to care about him a lot more if he’d let me, but I have a feeling you’d know something about that.”
    “I know he doesn’t think he has the capacity to love or be loved.”
    “Do you believe that?” Brac asked.
    “Doesn’t matter what I believe. It’s what Jessup believes that matters,” Priest shot back.
    Brac bit his bottom lip, trying to work up the nerve to ask the question he’d been dying to know the answer to since he’d first heard Jessup mention Priest. “Do you love him?”
    Priest’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re a nosy little bastard, aren’t ya ?”
    “I answered your questions, now it’s your turn to answer mine,” Brac boldly stated.
    “I’m here, aren’t I? If you had any idea how hard it was to get away or how long I’ve travelled to get here, you wouldn’t be asking.”
    “So the answer is yes, you do love him.” Brac felt his hopes of building a future with Jessup beginning to crumble.
    “I’m not in love with him, but he’s the closest thing to a friend I have. We’ve known each other a long time.”
    “So how can you know him the way you claim to and not be in love with him? There are so many things about Jessup to love. I started falling the first week.”
    “Maybe we’re not talking about the same man. I mean, don’t get me wrong, but other than his body and unwavering loyalty, I’m not sure what else there is to Jessup.”
    Brac slammed his beer on the table, offended on Jessup’s behalf. “You’re an asshole. I can’t believe Jessup considers you his best friend.” Brac stood and stormed out of the room. By the time he reached the stairs leading to his room, Priest’s laughter began to echo through the house once more. “Bastard.”
     
    * * * *
     
    The smells wafting from the kitchen into the bedroom began to gnaw at Brac’s empty stomach. “Damn him.”
    Knowing he couldn’t spend the next