“Magic?” Colt asked, smiling.
I chuckled, “Yeah. It’s magic.”
Scooting up so his head was no longer on my chest but resting on the pillow next to me, Colt stroked my hair back from my face. We kept our voices low so as not to wake Ben, who was softly snoring behind me. “People give each other different things. You loved Lucy, and she loved you. She’s gone, but I believe you’ll see her again one day. Now, you have me and Ben, and our love is different. And that’s okay.”
After musing over his words for a moment, I said, “You’re a smart boy.”
“I’m hardly aboy, Angus. I’m in my thirties.”
“Well, you’re a boy to me.”
“Let’s make a deal. I won’t call youold manif you don’t call meboy,” Colt said.
Smiling and pulling him closer, I said, “Deal,” and kissed him, long and slow.
“It’s natural for you to miss Lucy, though,” he said when we came up for air. Was he avoiding my eyes?
“Listen here,” I said, grasping his chin in my hand. “Of course I miss her. I didn’t expect her to die so suddenly like that. Just fell over dead with a heart attack. It was like my life ended. But I tried to move on. After the accident, though, I didn’t have the will to even try. Felt like the world was against me. Then you came along and made life worth living again.”
Colt chuckled. “You make it sound like it was easy.”
“Oh, I know it wasn’t,” Angus said. “But thank you for doing it. And I’m sorry I’ve never said that before.”
Colt’s smile was so full of love, I wondered that I didn’t know how he felt before the other day.
“You’re welcome.”
Chapter eight
Colt
All that day and the next, Angus and I spent most of our time in bed with Ben, who was insatiable in his heat, wanting me or Angus or both of us filling him all the time. He even slept with my cock locked in his ass once or twice.
At some point during that time, I’d been deep inside Ben when Laura knocked on our door and apologetically told us that the government goons were back and wanted to see for themselves that we were mated.
Fuck, they were tenacious motherfuckers.
I don’t think Ben even noticed the three men walk into the room. Honestly, my rut had such a hold on me, I barely noticed them.
However, I remember Angus yelling, “There, you’ve seen us, you freaks! Now, get out!”
The fourth day of Ben’s heat, Angus left us to do chores, and Ben cried for him while he rode my cock. Later, Angus told me Ben did the same thing when I went out to take my turn at chores, wailing for me while Angus fucked him. It seemed our omega was happiest when we were both with him—preferablyinside him at the same time. It made me wonder what it would be like when his heat receded. Would he be indifferent to us? Would he want sex at all before his next heat? Not that I wasn’t getting enough, but I was sure I’d be ready for some before another month passed.
I’d been touched by Angus’s words about his late wife. He was such a kind man to be thinking of her now. A lot of men wouldn’t. It made me love him even more, if that was possible.
I’d admired Angus Angel for many years before becoming close to him as a friend. When I was a teenager, I hero-worshipped him. I couldn’t believe Maddox didn’t appreciate his grandfather the way I did. Not that Maddox didn’t love or appreciate Angus, but he didn’t see him as I did—the tough rancher with the heart of gold. I remembered a time when he had to put down one of the horses due to a severely painful ligament rupture that would never heal. He did the deed with quiet and caring dignity, and it was only by chance that I caught him wiping tears away while stroking the horse’s flank after it was done. I snuck away without him seeing me, but the image remained in my mind for years. That’s the kind of rancher I wanted to be.
But I never became a rancher. My father died, and surviving after that was a struggle. Mom had to sell the ranch, and when she remarried and moved away, I bought the small cabin I now lived in.
On the fifth day, Ben’s heat died down and both Angus and I felt our ruts begin to settle, which amounted to not feeling the overwhelming urge to fuck every time we looked at, smelled, or sensed Ben in any way. I was damned sore from all the fucking we’d done, my muscles feeling like they had when I was nineteen and spent the summer bull riding with a rodeo.
After we had a shower and big meal, Ben unexpectedly said, “Would you two be mad if I spent some time in my room today? I think I need to be alone for a while.”
“Of course not,” I said.
“Are you okay, Ben?” Angus asked.
“I’m fine. It’s just…a lot, you know, coming off the heat, I guess. Before—when I’d go into heat at Gleesa’s, when it was over it was like it just turned off all of a sudden. But this time, I feel different.”