Love in Xxchange: Rory's Last Chance by Bailey Bradford (poetry books to read txt) 📗

like that, even to himself, reminded him of one of those happily ever after stories. Still, as farfetched as those tales seemed, Rory believed he and Chance had a good shot at their own happy ending. It wouldn’t always be easy, but it’d be interesting, and more rewarding than anything else ever had been.

RORY’S LAST CHANCE

Bailey Bradford

90

Chance had proven his integrity to Rory more than once, and he’d been nothing but supportive of Rory. If he hadn’t had Chance with him, literally holding his hand, Rory didn’t think he would have been able to make the phone call to Annabelle earlier in the day. Rory had left her several messages, all of which Annabelle claimed she never got. Rory believed her; it would be just like their old man, or Art, to sneak Annabelle’s phone away and delete Rory’s calls and voicemails. He’d been on the verge of heading to Montana if he didn’t get hold of Annabelle when she’d finally answered his call.

Telling his sister the full truth about what had happened between Art and him—

No, Rory cut his thought off right there. It hadn’t been about what happened between them, but rather about what Art had done to him. Rory had tried to keep that information as bare as he could, but Annabelle hadn’t ever been anyone’s fool, and when her questions caused Rory’s throat to tighten and his jaws to clamp down against answering, Chance had murmured comforting words for Rory’s ears only.

Then he had taken the phone from Rory’s stiff fingers, and spoken quietly with Annabelle. Rory hadn’t listened—had, indeed, deliberately blocked out what was said between his lover and his sister. Still, he knew that Chance had answered Annabelle’s questions, and made certain she knew what kind of sick fuck their dad had running the ranch. He’d also managed to talk Annabelle out of killing Art and getting her to agree to act as if she didn’t know about what he’d done to Rory, something Rory himself didn’t think he could have managed to do.

Afterwards, Chance had held Rory for a long time, soothing him until Rory felt the ground under his feet was stable once again. He had the feeling Chance would always carry him when he stumbled, and that meant as much to Rory as the words of love spoken between them the night before.

“Ain’t that a love-struck look you’re wearin’. Musta been some special night to have ya mooning over the stall you’re muckin’.”

Rory bit back a yelp of surprise at Max’s teasing words. He’d been so lost in his own mushy thoughts that he hadn’t even heard the other man approach. Rory’s cheeks heated, but he glanced over and arched a brow at Max.

“Do you really want the details, Max?”

Max startled Rory even more when he shrugged. “Heard plenty ‘hands talkin’ about what they did and with who before. Comes with bein’ a man, I guess.”

RORY’S LAST CHANCE

Bailey Bradford

91

Rory sputtered and turned to face Max, sure his friend was messing with him. He cocked his hip and shook a finger at the smaller man. “You better watch what you joke about, Max, you never know when I might decide to share, and once you hear stuff like that, you can’t exactly unhear it.”

“Yup,” Max agreed. “That’s rightly true, but like I said, been plenty of times I had ta listen to one guy or another talk about what he did with one woman or ‘nother.” He shrugged. “Didn’t bother me with them, won’t bother me if ya do the same.”

Rory was dumbstruck for all of a full minute, then he shook his head and went back to mucking out stalls. That whole conversation was just too bizarre to continue.

It didn’t occur to him until much later that Max might have had an ulterior motive for offering to listen to stories about Rory’s sex life—a motive that might just involve a certain aging twink. Maybe what Max had really wanted was information about the mechanics of what went on between two men.

That was an intriguing yet disturbing idea, but Rory decided he’d do some poking at Max and see if his hunch was right.

RORY’S LAST CHANCE

Bailey Bradford

92

Chapter Fifteen

Chance tossed his cell phone from hand to hand as he leant back in the chair at his desk.

Trying to decide on the best way to handle the situation without lying to his lover was proving more difficult than he’d thought. Somehow, he didn’t think Rory would give his blessing for Chance to go to Montana and beat the ever-lovin’ shit out of Art.

Truthfully, Chance knew that wouldn’t do anything more than stir up a new batch of trouble for Rory. Still, it’d feel damn good to slam his fist into Art’s face, though stopping before he killed the man might be beyond him once he started swinging.

Of course, getting close to Art would be nearly impossible. It wasn’t like he’d agree to meet Chance in a dark alley. Although, if he could get someone to lead the jackass there…

Chance drifted on that fantasy for a few minutes, imagining the impact of his knuckles on skin and muscle, the satisfying crunch of bone under his fist. Wouldn’t happen—Chance had no doubt Art would file charges, and Rory would be furious as well.

The short break from reality did give him an idea about possibly arranging a meeting with Art. There were a few things that needed to be said—in person, so that Chance’s expression and voice could combine to emphasise his words. And now he had a viable plan.

Chance caught the phone in his hand and scrolled down to the phone number of the person he hoped could help him out.

Rory finished brushing Rama down then made sure the big bay had plenty of food and water. He’d just patted Rama’s flank when he heard tires crunching gravel and the rumble of a diesel engine. Curiosity piqued, Rory left the barn to see who