you?”
“Caleb and BJ are at a table,” Clay hissed.
“So? Let’s go sit with them.”
“How’s it going to look, us walking in together?”
“Like we met in the parking lot? Clay, we’ve known each other over two years.” Jeff waited, but Clay stood still, biting his lips. “All right, I’ll go over first. You eat at the counter by yourself if you want.”
The irritation building inside him made him ask himself what kept drawing him back to Clay, choosing to forget about those achingly private moments they had shared. Jeff Extreme Bull | Catt Ford
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turned away and stomped to the table, dropping onto the bench seat next to BJ and shoving him over with his hip.
BJ yelped in surprise. “Geez, Jeff, why don’t you join us?”
Muscling BJ over helped restore some of his lost good mood. Jeff stole a piece of bacon off his plate and munched on it. “Don’t mind if I do.”
“Where’s your friend Clay?” Caleb asked.
Jeff glared at the other man and opened his mouth to blast him but before he could, Clay walked over and asked,
“Room for one more?”
“Sure.” Caleb moved over, sliding his plate out of Clay’s reach. “Just asking Jeff where you were.”
“Why would he know?” Clay demanded angrily.
Caleb looked surprised. “Just you two keep an eye on each other, always trying to outdo each other. Figured that’s why.”
“Okay, as long as that’s the reason.” Clay picked up a menu and held it in front of his face.
Jeff hated how Clay’s mood had changed from when they were in the trailer. He didn’t quite know what to make of this thing himself, but damned if he was going to snap everyone’s head off over it.
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Sensing danger, BJ talked just to fill the silence. “So, Caleb, how many times have you pulled old Terrence out of the dust so far this year?”
“Who told that guy he could ride bulls?” Caleb asked.
“He’s not that bad on a horse, but damn me if he can stick on a bull for the full eight.”
“Get a load of his fucking sequins too. I suppose they like that sort of thing in the regular rodeo?” BJ asked.
“Dude, it’s worse than it looks. Those things sting if he catches you in the face with them,” Caleb exclaimed.
“He grew up in Vegas,” Jeff said.
“Ah. That explains it,” Caleb said. “Still, he looks like a cowboy from a movie poster, not a proper bull rider. Kinda gay.”
The dead silence made Caleb look up, wondering what he’d said.
BJ struggled on. “Well, at least Terrence isn’t a dead loss on a bucking pony. I thought he used to do okay. I’m surprised he hasn’t broken a bone this year.”
“It’s not if you go down, it’s when ,” Jeff recited. Clay glanced up and gave him a look of pure hatred that confused him.
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“Season’s young,” Caleb said cheerfully. “Give him time.
I trust Terrence to break something before the year’s out.
Just hope it’s on him and not the poor bull.”
“Or the clowns,” Jeff said, wondering why Clay was so fucking annoyed.
BJ started talking about other riders, and he and Caleb analyzed their strengths and weaknesses with accuracy and wicked ridicule.
Jeff shoveled his food in, wanting nothing more than to be away from the table and Clay, sitting there all touchy and stone-faced. He didn’t think he could go on this way; trying to outguess Clay’s moods was worse than dealing with a woman.
“Let me out,” BJ said.
Seeing that he was ready to pay and leave, Jeff swallowed a last gulp of coffee and stood up. “I’m done.
Coming, Clay?”
“You go on ahead,” Clay mumbled. He stood to let Caleb by and sat down to wrap his hands around his cup of coffee.
“Fine.”
The three cowboys paid at the cashier and went outside.
“I gotta fill up,” Jeff mentioned.
“Me too,” BJ said.
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“See you there,” Caleb said, pulling up his collar.
Jeff pulled under the overhang at
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