Chapter 2
The morning sun was just rising over the mountains in the east, as Greg yawned and stepped out the door after Nick.
The afternoon before, Nick had shown Greg around the ranch, and told him some of the things that needed to be done. After a brief demonstration of how to muck out the stalls, Nick had left to attend his own chores.
When Nick hadn't returned by the time Greg was done with the stalls, Greg had taken it upon himself to go inside and fix dinner. It appeared he'd be doing most of the cooking during his time on the ranch, as Nick seemed to enjoy the spaghetti and garlic bread he'd whipped up.
Greg prayed he could find a way to get the other man to relax around him. Nick was so tense in his presence that Greg was sure a butter knife could cut through the tension.
Now they were heading out to the stable for Greg's first riding lesson.
As they walked down the isle of the stable, equine heads popped over stall doors, whickering at Nick in greeting. He stopped at each stall, talking to the horse, and scratching its long face.
The first genuine smile Greg had seen crept across Nick's face and the tension in his body eased. Where his strides had seemed measured and stiff on the walk to the stable, now they were fluid and graceful.
Stopping in front of the next stall, Nick picked up the halter from its hook next to the sliding stall door.
"Hey, Copper! How ya doing?" Nick asked, as he slipped the halter over the roan's head.
Greg noted this was the same horse Nick had been riding the day before.
After pushing the stall door open, Nick lead the horse out, and dropped the lead rope to the dirt floor.
"Aren't you afraid he'll walk away?" Greg asked, as he watched Nick continue down the isle to another horse.
"He's trained to stay put if I drop a rein or the lead rope to the ground. They all are," Nick replied, as he took another horse from its stall.
Greg carefully walked around Copper, over to Nick, when Nick motioned him over.
"This is Missy. She's a sweetheart," Nick said, as he patted the dun colored horse's neck.
Missy turned to look at Greg, stretching her nose toward him for a sniff.
She snorted and stamped a hoof, making Nick laugh.
This was the first time Greg had heard him laugh, and he found himself wanting to hear it again.
Patting Missy's neck again, Nick told the horse, "Remember, you're bigger than him!"
Greg shot Nick a sidelong glance, and quipped, "Hey, don't go giving her any ideas!"
Nick laughed again, "Don't worry, G! She's a gentle giant. Come on, I'll show you how to use the hoof pick."
Pulling said tool from a small cubby hole attached to the wall outside of Copper's stall, Nick began to clean out the gelding's hooves.
When he was done, he handed Greg the pick.
Their fingers brushed, as Greg took the tool by the handle from Nick. Nick pulled his hand back quickly, a scowl crossing his face, his shoulders tensing.
Greg badly wanted to tell Nick that he wasn't going to hurt him, but felt that that would probably only make things worse.
Rarely had Greg's gaydar been wrong. He knew it wasn't wrong now. He knew Nick was gay. He was even pretty sure Nick admitted he was gay – at least to himself, if not to others. He was also convinced that Nick had no intentions what so ever of ever acting on it. Nick had instead chosen to hide.
This entire time, Greg had been trying to pick up Missy's front left hoof. Her weight stayed firmly on that foot. Nick had made it look so easy.
"Lean into her shoulder," Nick advised, trying to keep a smirk off his face.
As Greg leaned into her, Missy shifted her weight, and now Greg was able to lift her foot and clean it.
Nick went through each step of grooming and saddling this way.
Once Missy was fully saddled, Nick said, "Put your left foot in the stirrup and pull yourself up into the saddle."
Greg did as he was told, fumbling with his right foot to get it in the other stirrup. He sat looking down at Nick, waiting for his next instruction.
Taking hold of Greg's boot, he twisted it so Greg's toes pointed forward. "Keep your toes pointed straight ahead and grip with your thighs. Don't hold onto the saddle horn."
Greg held the reins loosely in his hand, not quite sure what he should do with them, so Nick reached up and adjusted Greg's grip.
When Greg's thumb brushed across the back of Nick's hand, Nick pulled his hand back as if it had been burned. Then he backed up quickly, before spinning around and bolting towards Copper.
Pulling himself into the saddle, Nick turned Copper around almost before he was fully seated and sent him out of the stable at a gallop. It dawned on him several moments later that he was supposed to be teaching Greg to ride, and he'd left Greg sitting on Missy in the stable.
The panic Greg had seen on Nick's face as he'd pulled his hand away had hurt. He wanted Nick so badly. He'd never wanted anyone like this before.
Fate. He believed in Fate. He was sure they were supposed to meet in Vegas. It's where Nick would've been if his parents hadn't died. Greg was sure he would've been there, too.
Greg came to the conclusion that he had to do something. He had to get Nick to see that they belonged together.
Greg began to plan.
"Oh, God! I'm sore!" Greg groaned, as he walked into the house.
Nick had reappeared from his chores earlier today than he had the day before. A tense smirk crossed his face, as he watched Greg trying to stretch the knots out of his abused muscles.
"There's a jacuzzi tub in my parents' bathroom, if you want to use it," Nick said quietly. He still considered the room at the end of the upstairs hall to be his parents', hadn't even touched anything in there since they'd died. He had used the tub on occasion, though.
"Oh!" Greg moaned, "That sounds unbelievably good!"
His ears burning bright red, Nick sighed, "Come on, I'll show you."
The master bathroom was huge. One corner held the jacuzzi tub, which was easily big enough for two. The other corner held a walk in shower, again big enough for two. One wall held a his and hers sink. The toilet was shielded by a large linen cabinet.
From the cabinet, Nick pulled a set of towels for Greg to use.
Closing the tub's drain, Greg started the water. Before Nick had a chance to leave the room, Greg pulled his sweat stained T-shirt off over his head, giving Nick a view of his tanned chest and stomach.
Turning away quickly, Nick mumbled, "I'll go heat up dinner."
Greg was quicker than Nick, reaching out and grabbing Nick's wrist before Nick could escape. Pulling Nick to him, so they were inches apart and face to face, Greg watched Nick's eyes widen.
Desire and panic warred in those deep brown eyes.
Greg kept his hand around Nick's wrist, but didn't touch him anywhere else. Instead, he leaned forward so his mouth was close to Nick's ear and roughly whispered, "Don't fight it, Nicky! I don't know how long I'll be able to keep my hands off of you!"
Releasing Nick's wrist, Greg backed up until he hit the counter. His hands gripped the edge so hard his knuckles were white.
Nick just stood there, rooted to the spot, a deer-in-the-headlights look on his face.
"You'd better leave now, or I don't know what I might do," Greg's voice came out strained and hoarse.
Nodding dumbly, Nick finally seemed to regain his motor skills. Turning, he scrambled from the bathroom, pulling the door shut behind him.
As Greg soaked in the tub and allowed the jets to pound his aching muscles, he thought to himself, Well, he didn't hit me, or kick me out. Hopefully that's a good sign.
When Greg walked into the kitchen half an hour later, a strangled sound escaped Nick's throat.
Greg was clad only in a pair of loose gray sweat pants. They weren't so loose though that Nick could miss the tell tale tenting of material over Greg's desire.
Whirling around, Nick steadied himself by putting his hands on the counter beside the stove. His chest was suddenly tight, and he found it difficult to draw breath. "Greg!" he nearly couldn't force air out to make sound, "I- I can't do this!" Oh, God, he wanted to, though! His jeans had become unbearably tight and restricting.
"Can't do what, Nick? Have dinner?" Greg asked innocently, as if he hadn't said anything earlier. Grabbing a plate, he piled it high with left over spaghetti from the night before.
Setting the plate down near Nick's right hand, Greg whispered, "I can help you with that!"
That strangled sound escaped again, accompanied this time by a shiver.
As Greg moved away to fix his own plate, Nick spoke again. "I know what you're trying to do. It won't work!" with that, he picked up his plate and a fork and stalked from the kitchen.
Greg heard Nick's footsteps on the stairs and figured Nick had gone to his room. Under his breath, Greg said, "It's working already."