Hay and Heartbreak by Bailey Bradford Page B

eyes, it’d piss Dan off.
    “No, Frankie. Let it be.” Dan touched the scar on his cheek.
    Frankie approached him slowly, like Dan was a snarling, wounded animal.
    But he wasn’t. He’d dealt with what had happened to him. Just because he didn’t talk about it didn’t mean he hadn’t moved past it. “Frankie, whatever you’re thinking, you probably got it wrong.”
    “Tell me what I’ve got wrong, then,” Frankie asked, almost pleaded, really. “Because I’ve heard stories, and I’m imagining some pretty awful things.”
    Dan took another bite, then a third before he set his plate down and sighed. He wasn’t going to hurt Frankie’s feelings, and that meant talking whether Dan wanted to or not.
    But first he had a question. “Am I gonna have to go through this with Duke, too?”
    “Probably,” Frankie admitted. “So grab your plate and go over to our room. I’ll get you coffee—again—and meet you there.” Frankie surprised him by giving him a quick hug before darting out of the room.
    Dan took a minute to brush his hair and put on jeans and a T-shirt instead of his pajamas. It wasn’t much in the way of armor but Dan felt more secure wearing them.
    Duke surprised him by letting loose a wolf-whistle when Dan walked in. Duke’s broad smile was good to see. “So, little bro, I hear you been gettin’ some from Hector.”
    Dan sputtered, not expecting the teasing.
    “He’s got hickies, too,” Frankie said from behind Dan.
    Duke was sitting up on the edge of the bed, his broken leg propped up on a plush ottoman. Both of his eyebrows shot up into inverted V’s. “Damn, I can see that.”
    Dan glanced in the mirror. Hickies. Damn! There were two below his right ear, and one closer to the center of his neck.
    “Are you preenin’ now?” Duke asked.
    Dan turned his head. Another love bite showed just above his collar on the left side. “No. I just didn’t, er, didn’t pay attention to what was going to show.”
    Duke laughed and pointed to the rocker. “Pull that up and come tell me what you and Hector got up to.”
    “I’m not going into detail!” Dan protested. “Why would I tell you that?”
    “I meant, where’d y’all go yesterday, and why’d you sneak back out of his room this mornin’? You might as well have stayed,” Duke added. “Everyone knows you two were bumpin’ uglies.”
    Dan took the coffee Frankie offered him then sat in the rocking chair. “I came here to visit with you and Frankie,” Dan said stubbornly.
    “And you’re gettin’ it on with Hector, which is fine. He’s only been here about a year and a half. He’s a good guy.” Duke patted the bed. “Come on, Frankie. Hop a squat.”
    Frankie sat and gave Dan a meaningful look.
    Dan wondered how in the hell he was supposed to bring up what Frankie wanted him to talk about.
    And why, again, he had to go there. He gave Frankie a slight shake of his head.
    Duke frowned and glanced from Frankie to Dan then back at Frankie. “What’s up?”
    Frankie crossed his arms, a stubborn look on his face. “I’m just concerned about Dan, is all.”
    Duke scratched at his leg right above the cast. “Why? He’s a grown man. If him and Hector wanna fool around, what’s wrong with that? Ain’t like they’re hitchin’ their wagons together for good. Though,” he said quickly, smiling at Dan, “if it comes to that, that’d be mighty nice, too, havin’ you here.”
    Dan tried not to be difficult—he’d been that plenty when he’d been a kid, and regretted it—but he really didn’t want to talk about his sex life.
    Except he could see the worry in Frankie’s eyes, and he knew Frankie wasn’t asking to be nosy, but out of concern.
    “I’m so fuckin’ confused,” Duke groused. “Someone tell me what the hell’s goin’ on!”
    Frankie slumped, his shoulders rounding. “Nothing. I guess I’m just worried over nothing.”
    “Why would you do that?” Duke asked him, putting an arm around Frankie.