“We did. Cajun’s a hell of a songwriter.”
Colt beamed. “You want to give me your hat? I got a safe place for it.”
“Please. I swear you’d think nobody’d ever seen a cover.”
“Such a Texan. Hand it over.”
Ryder folded his hat up and stuck it in his back pocket.
Colt to the rescue. God, could his lover be any more perfect for him? “Thank you, love.” He filled Colt’s glass and set the bottle down. “We don’t see a lot of cowboy hats up here.” He grinned, trying out a little flirting to see if that would loosen Norv up a bit. “When we do, it’s usually on a handsome cowboy, so we stare. Take it as a compliment.”
“Oh, I do, son. No question.” Norv smiled at him, the look honest, warm. “So, I got to tell you, the Cajun showed us a video of you dancing. You’re something else. It was beautiful.”
“Thank you.” He smiled and preened. He couldn’t help it; he was proud of his work. And even more proud that his lover wanted to show him off. “I love it. I can’t imagine doing anything else. Which one did he show you? The outdoor one? That’s his favorite, but it’s old now. Why don’t you bring them to the show while they’re in town, Colt? I’ll comp you some tickets.”
“Yeah?” Colt came to him, gave him an easy kiss. “That would rock. And yeah, I like that one. I like you in the wind, the way you move.”
Colt’s kisses spoke to him like music, inspired him in the same way. It was impossible not to indulge, not to smile after. It made no difference who was in the room. “You better start dinner, or your guests are going to go hungry.”
He gave Colt a swat. “I have some cheese, guys.” As he headed for the refrigerator, he caught Ryder writing furiously in a little notebook. A second later the kid was showing it to Norv.
Kyle shot Colt a look, but his lover just shrugged like it was the most normal thing on earth. “We’re writers, cher. No stress.”
He wasn’t stressing. Was he stressing? Maybe he was. He certainly was now. What was the kid writing? Did it matter?
“Colt, come give this a look?” Ryder slid the notebook across the kitchen table.
He let it go and got some snacks together to put on the table, and then he refilled his wineglass.
“Mmm… sweet hook.” Colt began to sing, beating out a rhythm on the table.
“Cool.”
“I don’t guess you have a guitar here?”
Colt? Colt had guitars everywhere. “Up in the studio.”
Ryder looked at him. “You have a studio?”
“My dance studio.”
“Yeah? Bet the acoustics are awesome.”
“We’re supposed to eat, y’all….” Colt grabbed the pen from Ryder’s hand and jotted a few notes, scribbled some stuff out.
Kyle stepped up behind Colt, wrapped an arm around his middle, and kissed the back of his neck. “Thank you. But if you want to write—if that’s what’s calling you, baby, it’s okay with me. That’s why they’re up here, right?”
They were artists. Kyle loved a nice sit-down and some good conversation, but if they were inspired, he got it. He had the feeling these two were more “shooting the breeze over late-night beer” types anyway.
“I’ll buy pizza,” Norv offered. “I hear tell it’s better here than anywhere in the country.”
Kyle smiled. “No food in my studio.” He poked a finger at Norv playfully. “Otherwise, it’s yours. I’ll join you guys in a few.” Maybe he’d listen and dance. Why not? He didn’t let Colt go yet, though. He wanted another one of those kisses first. He spun Colt around to face him. “It’s okay. Promise.”
“You’re good to me, cher.” Colt gave him what he wanted, a kiss that promised him the world—deep and eager and utterly unashamed.
Who needed dinner? He could just live on that. “Just giving as good as I get. Go on. I’ll be up in a few.”
Ryder had already disappeared into the hall. Norv gave Colt a clap on the shoulder, and the two of them headed out of the kitchen together.