“They’re looking forward to you too.” Colt tugged on his jeans and a thin T-shirt. There was something so hot about the sight of Colt’s bare feet, the worn-in jeans.
He liked it so much, he decided to go with bare feet too. “I hope they can accept that I’m hopeless when it comes to keeping my hands off of you.” To make his point, he ran a hand up one of Colt’s arms as he walked by. “You know there’s plenty of room if they want to drink and don’t feel like Ubering it back to the hotel. Just putting that out there now so you can offer if you want to.” He had two empty bedrooms. No problem.
“Thank you, and they’re… they’re a couple, you know? They’re very into each other.”
“Oh yeah?” Well, that was wonderful. Kind of a double-date thing. He liked it. “That’s….” He looked at Colt. “Was that the doorbell?” He waited another second to see if he heard it again.
“Think so, yeah. Man, I might have to order pizza. Since we… didn’t start cooking food.” Colt grinned at him, dark eyes dancing.
“How long can shrimp take?” He took Colt’s hand and hurried down the stairs. “I’m a little nervous. I know that’s stupid, but it’s true.” He just wanted them to like him. He was a little surprised by how important it was to him.
“It’s weird, meeting good friends.” Colt leaned into his arm, squeezed his fingers. “You ain’t stupid, cher. Not at all.”
He nodded. “Yeah. Okay.” He took a deep breath. “My house, right? I better get the door.” Even if he didn’t feel completely confident, he knew he could act it. He made a living at it. He opened the door. It was still pouring rain, but the two of them fit under the little awning over the front door.
Jesus Christ, was his first thought. They really were exactly like Colt. “Hey! Come on in. God, what awful weather.”
“Eh, rain’s a blessing, I guess. Norv Williamson, pleased.” A square, gnarly hand was offered over. “This is Ryder James.”
One older, one younger, one in a ball cap, one in a plastic-covered cowboy hat.
“Kyle. Kyle Alexander.” He shook hands and closed the door behind them. “I hear you. But in New York City, rain is just a pain in the ass. Do you mind if I ask you to kick your boots off? I’ve got carpet.”
Ryder gave Norv a wide-eyed look, but Norv nodded. “Sure, no problem.”
Colt chuckled softly. “Y’all want some help? I know you got your good boots on.”
Shit. Southern musicians one, New York dancer zero. And he was probably blushing too. “I’m sorry, guys. They’re really nice boots.” Jesus. Maybe he should just shut his mouth and let Colt do the talking tonight.
“Ain’t they? I met Norv over his boots. You were wearing Luccheses, weren’t you?”
“Lord yes. You were drooling over them outside that club on Orleans. Give me a tug, Cajun.”
Luccheses. He’d file that away for later. He watched Colt help Norv and looked at Ryder. “You want a hand?” He could do that.
“Oh. Uh.”
Ryder looked embarrassed, and he heard Norv’s low laugh.
“Oh, come on.” He was pretty sure he managed not to make a total fool of himself, and he set Ryder’s boots down alongside Norv’s.
“Thank you.” Ryder’s cheeks were the color of cherries. God, he was adorable.
“My pleasure.” He looped an arm through Colt’s, and they led the way into the kitchen. “Can I get you guys a beer or a glass of wine?”
“Beer, please, for both of us.”
Colt chuckled softly. “They ain’t all classy like me.”
He huffed at Colt. “Seriously? Now you’re just trying to make me look like a snob.”
Of course, he only had expensive beer, but it was still beer. He gave his lover a little shove and stuck his tongue out, pulling two bottles out of the refrigerator. He popped the tops off them and handed them to Norv and Ryder, giving Ryder a little wink just for fun. The kid hadn’t managed to get more than a stutter out since he opened the front door. Norv seemed to have that covered for both of them.
“Thank you, sir.” Norv was pure ease, like this stereotypical cowboy, and he made Kyle want to laugh, want to watch him move and use it in a dance.
“Wine for you, baby?” He pulled a new bottle off the rack and fished out the opener. He refrained from asking Colt’s guests to take off their hats, even though it made this small part of him itch. That was his mother all over, and he hated it.
He poured himself a glass and hovered the mouth of the bottle over Colt’s, asking. Then he fished out some small talk. He was good at that, a more pleasant inheritance from his mother. “Colt said you guys did some great work today.”