"You're client eye raped me, touched me like I was

cattle, and you're fucking sulking now?"

"No." Eli straightened in his seat. "I don't sulk." Useful that he didn't address the other things Robbie

picked up on. Robbie started the engine and pulled out of

the circular drive.

"Sure looks like it," he snapped. "Put your belt on." Satisfied when Eli did as he was told, Robbie joined

the flow of traffic. Robbie was seething but the fifty

minutes or so it would take from here to the Double D

would be bearable if Eli just sat back and shut the hell up.

Never let it be said Eli could sit quietly for any more than a

damn minute.

"He just wanted to meet you," Eli said. "He wanted

to see what kind of man I had in mind. I didn't know he was

going to treat you like…" Eli's voice trailed away. Robbie wasn't going to attempt this conversation,

not when anger skimmed and hissed just under his skin. "I don't want to talk about this anymore," he said.

Robbie felt all kinds of things: angry, insulted, and

ultimately embarrassed that Eli would put him in that

position.

"Look, I fucked up. I'm sorry."

"Whatever." Robbie cut that particular line of

bullshit dead and concentrated on driving back to the place

he called home.

"Now who's sulking," Eli said wryly.

Was Eli joking? If that short sharp comment was

meant to break the uneasy silence then it wasn't going to

work. Robbie refused to answer and the rest of the journey

was spent in an uneasy silence.

When the 4x4 stopped outside the ranch, Robbie

had the engine off and was out of his door before Eli had

managed to undo his belt. In seconds he was at the steps to

his room and as soon as he heard Eli shut the door of the

car Robbie locked the vehicle remotely. There was no way

Eli would catch up to him, and when his apartment door

was shut to the outside Robbie let fly a torrent of curse

words at the stupidity of it all. There was him thinking Eli

was a good guy when in fact all he had been was one huge

fucking asshole. Business or no business, he'd thought Eli

was becoming a friend with a view to more. He evidently

knew that Michael guy, being as he was Eli's client, and

probably knew exactly how Robbie would be treated. Half of him hoped Eli would come to the door just

so he could deck the guy, remission and virus or not. Eli

didn't. When Robbie checked out of his small window he

could see Eli letting himself in the main ranch and the light

going on in the kitchen. Pushing himself up and away from

the frame he stalked to his bed, pulled off his clothes in an

economy of motion, and went to bed.

Okay, so he didn't sleep, but it was a hot sultry night

and he blamed the heat.

The warmth of his temper and his embarrassment

didn't help.

* * * *

Eli attempted to be quiet but it had never been his strong point. The house was in darkness apart from the kitchen and he assumed Riley and Jack had gone to bed for the night. He had a beer and a bag of chips in front of him on the table when Riley walked in.

"Go okay?" Riley asked as he yawned.

"They're happy with the new idea," Eli said. There was caution in his voice and if he could hear it then so could Riley.

"What's wrong then?"

"Nothing." Lying is easy.

Riley sat down next to Eli. That in itself was odd. If Riley wanted to sit down wouldn't he be better off opposite Eli? This could only mean one thing. A chat.

"Are you feeling okay?" Riley asked.

Sudden irritation built inside Eli and he grimaced. Just because Riley knew about the cancer didn't mean he had to ask Eli all the time if he was okay.

"Fine," he snapped.

Riley turned in his seat and his hazel eyes were filled with empathy. Gently he placed a hand on the one Eli had resting on his chest. Shit, he hadn't even realized it was there.

"Then why are you sitting here looking so miserable and pressing your chest like your heart hurts?"

"I fucked up."

"You need to talk?"

Eli considered the offer for a while. How did he admit to Riley he had been an idiot who had hurt Robbie, and that he didn't even really need to discuss that fact, he just needed to know how to apologize. The whole sorry story slipped out in rapid sentences.

"I want to use real cowboys for the photo shoot and Michael said this was a brilliant idea but he didn't understand what a 'real' cowboy could look like. So when Robbie picked me up—and God, Robbie is hot, right?—I asked Robbie in and Michael assumed he was a model and was all over him like a rash. Robbie is pissed at me because I didn't correct Michael." Eli paused for breath. "See, you have a cowboy, right?"

Riley's gaze widened and his mouth fell open in a perfect O of surprise.

"You are not using Jack in your shoot." His words were almost as fast as Eli's explanation.

"I wasn't. I wouldn't. You're not listening to me. I hadn't finished."

"Go on then. This is going to be a good one." Riley sat back and away from Eli and waited.

"How would you apologize to Jack and not make it come over as pathetic? I should have realized what Michael would do and even if I hadn't I should have just said that Robbie was my…" His voice trailed away. What was Robbie to him exactly? Friend? Potential lover? The guy he wanted to climb all over and kiss from head to toe?