I liked the idea. “Our initials?” I asked.
“Could do,” Angus grunted. “Listen, how would you feel about getting married?”
“Married?” I echoed. “Really? Where did that come from?”
“I want you to be Colt Angel and Ben to be Ben Angel. What do you say?”
There wasn’t much to think about. I wasn’t attached to my surname. My mother didn’t use it anymore. I’d loved my dad, but I honestly didn’t think he’d care.
“Okay,” I said. “Let’s do it.”
“Really?” Angus’s face lit up.
“Yeah. Whenever you want.”
“You think Ben will go for it?”
“I’m sure he will, but we can ask him when he wakes up.”
“Okay. And I’ll find a tattoo artist. We’ll think of something good to ink on our boy.”
“Sounds like a plan.” With a sigh, I said, “Sex was never like this with other people.”
Angus’s eyes sparked. “How many others were there?”
“Jeez, Angus, you can’t expect me to have gotten to my thirties without having sex.”
“I figured you did. Now, how many?”
“I thought about it. “Well, there was Denton Clark.”
“That weasel that works at the grocery in town?” Angus asked, making a face.
“He’s not a weasel. He’s cute,” I said.
Angus growled. “Who else?”
“Tyler Sims.”
“Gary Sims’ oldest boy? Are you kidding me? He’s dumber than a rock.”
I shrugged one shoulder. “You don’t have to be smart to be a good fuck.”
“Anyone else?” Angus demanded, looking at me like there better not be.
“Just one,” I said. I almost left this one out, but I didn’t want to lie to Angus.
“Well? Don’t tell me it was Andy Cheevers.”
“No. Uh, it was Ansel Kiln.”
Angs was silent a moment. “Ansel Kiln that runs the mill?”
I nodded.
“He’s awfully old for you.”
“In case you haven’t noticed, that’s an attraction for me,” I said, smiling slyly.