Zane could only laugh as Sadie jabbed at Ty’s carotid and Ty sprawled in the grass, complete with his tongue hanging out for effect. Sadie was enjoying it a little too much. But then, so was Ty.
It was well past dark when they returned to the guesthouse and Zane finally had Ty to himself. As soon as they walked in, Zane pulled Ty toward him and kissed him, taking his time, drawing it out.
Ty grinned against his lips. “How does it feel?”
“Damn good,” Zane growled as he squeezed Ty’s ass.
“That’s not what I meant.”
Zane laughed. He didn’t let Ty go, but he nodded. “It feels good. I can’t believe my dad took it like that.”
“Your dad is pretty epic, Zane.”
Zane laughed again, harder this time. He met Ty’s eyes, taking in the whole package. The hat brought out the hazel, making them sharper, shadowing them and giving Ty that mysterious cowboy aura that so many people tried and failed to achieve. Ty could almost pull off the hat better than he could and Ty’d only had it for a few hours. The way Ty had handled himself tonight, the way he’d charmed Annie and Harrison and even little Sadie, and held his own with Beverly, made Zane proud.
Having someone to be proud of was an indescribable feeling.
“I love you,” Zane said as he gazed into Ty’s eyes, reveling in the truth behind the words. Every step they took as a couple felt so damn good.
Ty smiled, eyes bright. Then his expression fell and he smacked Zane’s chest. “Why didn’t I know you can draw?”
“What?”
“I saw your painting. And Annie said you do charcoal sketches.”
“I—”
“You are going to draw me something, and you’re going to do it tonight.”
Zane laughed. “What?”
“You should draw me a tattoo!”
Zane raised an eyebrow, arrested by the thought. He hadn’t drawn in years, hadn’t even thought of it, but the idea of using Ty’s skin as a canvas was appealing in so many ways. “I might have to do that,” he rasped.
Ty nodded. Zane pulled the hat off Ty’s head and stepped in close to kiss at the corner of his mouth. Ty reached to tug him closer, but stopped when his cast got in the way. He couldn’t grip Zane’s arm, couldn’t drag his hand over Zane’s back, couldn’t even work at any of Zane’s buttons. Zane huffed in annoyance and started on his own shirt buttons.
Ty grunted and turned his hand over.
“How much longer are you in that thing?”
“Couple more weeks, at least.”
“That’s really going to cause some chafing if you’re not careful.”
“Zane, come on, that’s just mean.” Ty didn’t sound too amused, but then, a broken hand had to drive a man like Ty nuts. Especially since it was his dominant hand.
Zane looked from Ty’s eyes to the cast with a sinking feeling. He knew what Ty was thinking.
Sure enough, Ty bent and extracted the Strider at his ankle.
Zane squared his shoulders and pointed. “Tyler Grady, don’t you dare cut that cast off.”
Ty put the blade to the edge of the plaster, eyes wide and innocent, as if he were hurt that Zane would think he’d do such a thing.
“I’ll take it from you, Ty.”
Ty narrowed his eyes, then turned and took a few steps away. “Try it, Lone Star,” he said as he shoved the knife under the padding and started sawing at it. He hunched his shoulders when Zane took a step toward him.
“Ty! Do not cut that cast off!”
“It itches!”
Zane grabbed his hand, pulling it and the knife away from the cast.
Ty slithered away and held the knife out to the side, blade pointed away from Zane. “Quit it!” he said, holding out his hurt hand as if to keep Zane at bay. He stayed there for a second, a standoff as they stared at each other, then took a quick step back and began to saw at the cast again.
Zane darted close, grasped Ty’s cast, and yanked it to the side, away from the knife. Ty held the knife out again, stepping closer to Zane to hinder his movements rather than trying to pull away from him. He couldn’t get the cast out of Zane’s grasp, though.
“Just let me cut it off!” Ty begged as he tried and failed to twist it free.
“No!” Zane grabbed at the knife, fully aware of—and turned on by—how their bodies aligned when they grappled. Just like the first fight they’d ever had, a real one, where he’d found himself with a raging hard-on as he’d pinned Ty to a wall in an alley in New York City.
Ty shot Zane his best seductive smile. “I’ll do fun things to you if you let me cut it off.”
“You’ll do fun things to me anyway.”
“Dammit!”
“You cut it off, you’ll start using it. You start using it, you’ll f**k it up again.”
“That’s the fun of life,” Ty insisted. Then he hooked his foot behind Zane’s ankle and pulled his leg forward.
Zane swore as he stumbled and pitched backward toward the floor, but managed to snake an arm around Ty to pull him down with him. They both hit hard, and Zane rolled over and scrabbled at Ty’s good wrist, trying to get the knife.
Ty stretched his arm as far as he could while wrapping his legs around Zane’s waist and clamping down, putting the knife just out of Zane’s reach. So Zane grasped Ty’s arm and started beating it against the floor to dislodge the knife.
Ty struggled briefly, but then gave a plaintive, “Ow! Dammit!” and the knife clattered to the plank floor. He yanked his hurt hand away from Zane and whacked him in the arm with the hard plaster cast.
“Ow! Ty!” Zane shouted. He pushed down on both Ty’s shoulders, pinning him to the floor. “Give it up.”
“Have you ever known that to work with me?” Ty asked wryly, attempting to roll onto his stomach even with Zane’s weight pressed against him.
Zane kissed him, letting it go hot and messy, but he didn’t loosen his hold. If anything, his hands gripped tighter and his knees closed against Ty’s sides. Ty pulled him closer, wrapping him up, letting Zane feel his c**k hardening against him.
“That’s an illegal move,” Ty panted. He closed his eyes and rested his head on the floor.
Zane chuckled and lowered himself to his elbows, rubbing his nose along Ty’s jaw. “Since when is any move illegal with you?”
Ty pressed his mouth to Zane’s. “When it gives you the advantage.” His words rumbled against Zane’s lips as they kissed, and Zane moved one hand to touch Ty’s face.