Rancho Bonito

Chapter 3

Something cold and wet snuffled against my cheek. Now, I knew it wasn't Keith. His nose isn't cold or wet. Neither is his dick for that matter. Wet maybe, but never cold.

I opened one eye and found myself looking up the elongated snout of my oldest Doberman, Shadow. I tried to glare at him but only ended up with crossed eyes. He happily licked my face.

I shoved him away. That apparently was his cue to start playing. He bounced on the bed, stiff legged, his stub of a tail rotating a mile a minute. Then he was off the bed and out of the room, only to return less than a minute later with his gorilla.

Now most people get a dog like a Doberman as protection. They reason that if a burglar breaks into their house in the middle of the night, being met by a hundred pounds of muscles and teeth is bound to discourage all but the most die-hard career criminals.

Well, I don't worry about burglars either. I figure any guy confronted by a hundred-pound Doberman carrying five pounds of stuffed purple gorilla is going to stop being a problem when he dies laughing.

I fell back on the bed when Shadow shoved his damp treasure into my face.

"You are single-handedly destroying the hard-won reputation of Dobermans the world over," I groused. Shadow wagged his tail and grinned around his stuffed toy. Seconds later Sleuth came along and tried to take it away from him. A tug of war on the bed ensued.

"Will you three tone it down or I'll throw the whole bleeding lot of you outside."

Shadow perked up at Keith's voice. He tried to share his treasure with his second favorite human with no better luck. Finally I got the two dogs off the bed and out of the room. Still naked, I padded across the carpeted floor back to bed. Keith eyed me appreciatively. I felt my cock start to thicken in pure lustful reaction to that look.

Keith got up on one elbow and stared at my rapidly swelling dick.

"See something you like?" I asked.

"Oh yeah," he said. He leaned forward and touched his tongue to my piss slit. Seconds later he put his mouth on my expanding helmet and cleaned it of pre-cum. "Want to share it?"

I rocked my hips forward and slid my cock down his eager throat.

"No," I said thickly. "I don't share with anyone. It's all yours."

"Good," he mumbled around my seven inches. He knew exactly what buttons to push and it didn't take him long to bring me to a roaring climax.

Afterward he took me in his arms and stroked my damp back.

"Do we have work to do?"

Normally on surgery days when he got off early we spent the afternoon doing B&B business. I told him about the new reservations that effectively filled up the rest of our summer. It meant we now had only the next two weekends unfilled. That meant escalating some chores we had intended to put off. They needed to be done now.

"Painting," Keith said the word I hated. I'd known it was coming, but it didn't mean I had to like it. "We have to paint that guestroom this weekend. Can you go into town and get the paint tomorrow?"

"Done."

"A color we agree on?"

"Yes --" I avoided his eyes and picked at a loose thread in our handmade quilt. "Of course."

"Todd. What did we agree on?"

I mumbled something. I could feel his gaze on me and ignored it. For all of ten seconds.

"All right. Ecru. Beige." I made a gagging sound. "Eggshell. God forbid we should have rooms that have color in them."

He pointedly looked around our own room. I refused to rise to the bait. Sure, I had gone all out in our private quarters. The walls were a gorgeous burgundy with deep green accents. The tones were picked up in the other furniture, a love seat, sofa and ottoman, and complimented the teak desk and woodwork throughout the big room. But that was just one room out of ten. I'd had to twist his arm to let me add some attitude to the bar we'd put in just eight months ago. The Crazy Coyote Cafe had been a big hit from the start and even the locals had taken to dropping in on weekends. The big-screen TV that was always tuned to some sports event somewhere in the world probably helped. The last Superbowl had been our best day yet.

"Didn't we agree that neutral worked best for guest rooms? That way you can't offend anyone."

I didn't bother launching into my favorite argument about how you can't offend people who have no taste, since my heart wasn't in it. Instead, I rubbed the heel of my hand over his nearly hairless chest.

"I've been thinking of names for the foal. For the AQHA and the Paint Horse society."

"Oh?"

"How about Destiny's End?" I circled one of his brown nipples with my index finger and watched it crinkle and grow stiff. I licked my lips. "Or Destiny's Road? I like Road. What do you think?" I flicked my fingernail over his taut nipple. I think it grew even bigger.

His mouth opened in a silent O and I carefully drew a circle around his other nipple.

"Is that a yes or a no?"

"He's your horse. I think you should call him what you want -- Christ, Todd. Are you trying to kill me here?"

"Fuck you to death? No, never," I murmured and bent my head down to take the swollen nipple in my mouth. "Just fuck you comatose."

We finally got out of bed about an hour later. Not a bad mid-morning break. Spending it with a lusciously fuckable Keith Anderson had to be the highlight of my day.

After a shower we took the dogs and strolled down to the broodmare stable. Destiny's Road was up and teetering around the big box stall after mom. His ears and his tail were in constant motion, pin-wheeling around at every sound, his big eyes tracking after to try to see whatever it was that had attracted his attention. He stared goggle-eyed at us leaning over the stall door but didn't try to hide behind mom.

"He's a cute little button, isn't he?" Keith said, and thus was born Destiny's stable name. Button actually took a couple of steps in our direction before changing his mind and spinning around to race back to mom. But spinning and running weren't quite part of his repertoire yet, so he ended up in a tiny heap on the straw-covered ground.

I swear he looked indignant when we broke out laughing.

"You'll get better at it, Button. I swear," I told him when he finally tottered behind mom and had a mid-afternoon snack.

Taking Keith's hand I walked out into the sun. It was a beautiful day. What more could a man want? The man of his dreams by his side -- and in his bed -- a successful business and a bright future.

How quickly it could all vanish.

Chapter 4

Our first guests of the summer arrived four hours early. Thinking it was the delivery people with the last minute supplies I had ordered for the first night get-together dinner, I didn't bother doing up my shirt or locking up the dogs when I hurried to answer the door. All the local tradesmen knew Shadow and Sleuth now. A few even brought treats for the two. As though they didn't get enough spoiling.

With two dogs boiling around my feet, Shadow with his stuffed gorilla, Sleuth with his sloppy grin, I threw the door open.

"Take it --"

The couple that stood on our front veranda were not delivery people. I fumbled with the buttons on my shirt while I nodded and made the right noises.

At least I assumed they were a couple. We aren't an exclusively gay resort but the bulk of our advertising is done in upscale gay magazines. So it's safe to say ninety percent of our clientele are of the fruity persuasion.

Neither one of them would have stood out on the street as definitively gay. But the one guy was almost the antithesis. Tall, he must have stood six-four at least; he was Native American. He looked like a bulked up construction worker, all hard muscles and strong arms and legs encased in tight pants. He had silken black hair that hung nearly to his waist, tied back in a ponytail with a silver clasp. His clothes were expensive but plain, as though having decided he wasn't ever going to be handsome he wasn't going to waste money on high fashion. Everything was black or grey, right down to the designer shades he had on. And he wasn't -- handsome that is. Not really. His features were too strong for that. Not that he was ugly, or even unattractive. I'd look at him twice in a crowded room. But he didn't stand out as your standard hunk material.

His partner, on the other hand, was the epitome of hot hunk. He wasn't a kid -- neither of them was -- probably in his late twenties, wearing designer clothes like he was born to them. If I hadn't been in a seriously committed relationship I would have looked at this guy hard. As it was, Keith or no Keith, I gave him a second appraising look, and I liked what I saw even more the second time. I'm not into facial hair much, but the soft lines of his goatee, which was a shade lighter than his head, with a slight reddish tinge, suited him perfectly. His mouth was well defined, and looked very kissable, and his eyes were the most piercing blue. And his body looked like it was sculpted by someone who loved the male form. He wasn't overly muscular, just smooth and perfect, right down to the nicely defined basket between his legs.

The native guy eyed Shadow uncertainly, one eyebrow raised. "Does he know how to use that?"

I stared down at the dog with his purple gorilla mashed in his mouth. I noticed the sexy hunk looked slightly bemused.

"Only if he has to." I held out my hand. The big Indian took it first. His hands were calloused. Maybe he was a construction worker.

"Charlie Reid, and this is my partner, Tyler McKay."

"Call me Ty," his partner said.

I shook Charlie's hand, then managed to do the same to Ty's without breaking out into a sweat. The names set off bells. The newly painted so called honeymoon suite. Booked by one Charlie Reid nearly two months ago for six nights.

"From Toronto, right? Canada?"

Charlie nodded warily. This was not a guy who trusted easily.

"Ever been down this way before?"

"No," Charlie said. Ty shook his head. "But it's been on my list."

But something about the name was familiar. Beyond the honeymoon suite. The face too. Where would I have seen him before?

Sleuth took advantage of my inattention to shove his long nose into Charlie's hand. I was glad to see Charlie wasn't intimidated. He just scratched behind Sleuth's ear. Sleuth, for his part, just grinned sappily. Shadow still tried to get someone interested in his toy.

"Mr. Reid and Mr. McKay. Of course," I said doing my best not to appear like a total idiot. "Welcome. I'm Todd Richards, your host and the manager of Rancho Bonito. Your room is ready. Can I help you carry anything in?"

When I received no objections, I picked up the two larger pieces of Louis Vuitton luggage and led them through the recently scrubbed front reception area. I offered them the mini tour as we went.

"This is our main common room." I indicated the large area with its adobe-fronted fireplace and numerous couches and chairs that were scattered around. There was a CD player in one corner along with a stack of CDs ranging from pure country to my favorite, the blues. In the other corner, beside the fireplace, was a mini-library, full of a variety of anthologies, science fiction, mystery and travel books that featured Santa Fe and area. The floor was covered with a variety of brightly-colored throw rugs, leaning heavily on the Navajo look. I'd kept that theme up with the furnishings, so the whole thing had a familiar southwest flavor. I'd filled the walls with Geogia O'Keefe prints and had a few originals from local artists. Above the fireplace was Keith's horror - a gift from his parents that he insisted we keep in the main room, it was a genuine longhorn skull with a set of curved horns that must have measured six feet easily. I frequently tried to get Keith to consent to move the thing to the bar but so far he was holding firm.

As usual, the skull attracted a lot of attention. Charlie ended up standing under it, his head cocked to the side as he studied the monstrosity.

"He must have been an impressive sucker when he was alive."

Ty tucked his hand through Charlie's and stood close enough so that their hips touched. Charlie, for his part, smiled down at him. The smile, simple as it was, took years off his rather harsh looking face.

"Wouldn't want to be on the business end of those things, that's for sure," Ty said.

"The only way you're likely to meet one here is on the barbecue," I said. I didn't mention that Keith had started talking recently about picking up a small herd to raise organically for our own kitchen. "Let me show you your room, then you can freshen up if you want. I'll give you a tour of the place later, if you like."

"Yes, I'd like that," Ty said. Not letting go of Charlie's hand, he followed me back toward the guestrooms.

I set the luggage just inside the door, did a quick tour of the facilities for them and left them to get settled.

This time when the doorbell rang it was the delivery people and I spent the next half hour putting supplies away and revising the evening's menu with Tom, our chef's, input. I let him know our guests had arrived and they looked like hearty eaters.

Thirty minutes after that Charlie and Ty appeared in the common room and I met them there. They both looked damp from recent showers and, from the relaxed smile on Charlie's face, I'd say they did more than just share water. Maybe they really were on their honeymoon. They were still looking at each other like the rest of the world was a mere backdrop for each other.

"Care for a beer? Coffee? Something stronger?" I offered. "We have a full bar -- you might have seen the signs for it outside."

"Beer would be nice," Ty said. He sat on a couch facing the fireplace and Charlie sat beside him. Ty nestled into his arms. "Charlie?"

"Beer, sure."

I fetched three and took a seat in a chair facing them. "So, Toronto, huh?" I tried to think of my high school geography. "That's near Detroit, isn't it?"

"Couple of hundred miles north," Charlie said. "Don't ask Ty, he'll tell you in some weird Canadian measurement and you won't understand a bit of it."

"You mean you're not Canadian?"

"Tennessee."

"An international couple." I couldn't resist asking. "So how long have you been together?"

Ty smiled at Charlie who looked at him fondly. "Seven months this Sunday. Still going strong."

"An anniversary. We'll have to get the chef to fix up something special. What would you like?"

Charlie glanced at the longhorn skull. "How about some of that steak. Ty?"

"Steak's fine by me. You know I like my meat."

"Steak it is, then." I gestured toward the book rack where, alongside the books, were a series of pamphlets from local tourist businesses. "Not sure how familiar you are with New Mexico or Santa Fe, but you can get an idea of what's on offer in the area. If there's something in particular you want to do or see, let me know. I can usually make the arrangements, save you the hassle. We have horses available for your riding pleasure: let either me or Darrel, our head wrangler, know. We can fix you up. The trails are well marked for riding or hiking, if you prefer. We can supply you with a guide, a picnic lunch, binoculars for birding -- there are a number of species unique to this area - whatever you need. The swimming pool is in the back - it's heated and open twenty-four-seven, though there's no lifeguard present. There are several golf courses in the area if that's your thing, and Santa Fe, of course, offers a wide variety of sights. Like I said, just let me know. Or my partner, Dr. Keith Anderson -- you haven't met him yet. We'll do everything we can to make your holiday a pleasure."

"You're married to a doctor?" Ty eyed the ring I wore on my third finger. "Neat."

"Veterinarian, actually." Suddenly I grinned. "Though I agree, it's neat. He's neat. How did you guys end up together?"

"Art," Ty said. "Charlie's a famous artist and he had a commission that involved one of my projects. One thing led to another as they say... I let him sweep me off my feet."

"More like you tackled me," Charlie said. Amusement shone through his dark eyes. "And hog-tied me until I stopped fighting."

"Someone had to beat some sense into you."

Charlie met my eyes and smiled. I could see what had appealed to Ty. The guy was ruggedly sexy, like one of those craggy Marlboro men you used to see in cigarette ads. "I wasn't ready to accept a guy liking me that way. He was...stubborn, though."

"Persistent," Ty said.

"Stubborn. Pig-headed."

"I persevered against his narrow-minded refusal to think he should be in love with me."

"Yeah," Charlie said softly. "That he did."

"Thank God, one of us used our head."

Then it hit me.

"Art!" My mouth hung open and I looked at Charlie with new respect. "You're the one who's got the new art show downtown. What's the name of the gallery? Jesus, I was just there with Keith..."

"Moonstone Gallery?" Charlie nodded. "That's me. My show just opened. When were you there?"

"The opening. Mrs Emanuel Hen-"

"Henry Dominguez," Charlie finished for me. "Yes, she was primarily responsible for getting me down here. My agent still claims to be shell-shocked."

I laughed. That sounded like the old battle-ax herself. "The woman's quite a juggernaut."

"Those weren't the words Hal used. I think he used a lot of b and c words. He doesn't normally talk that way about a woman who could be his sainted mother, but she overwhelmed him."

"She rarely fails to get her way. But forget her." I leaned forward enthusiastically. "I saw your paintings. Man, they blew us away."

"Us?"

"Keith and me. My better half. He should be home soon from the clinic so you can meet him. He was impressed too, and Keith isn't easily moved by stuff like art. He said something then about wishing he could meet you. He's going to be so thrilled. Now I remember, they had your photo included in the exhibit. That's why you looked so familiar. You're very talented."

"Thanks." Charlie looked embarrassed. Not used to one-on-one praise? Ty looked at him adoringly and then confirmed my suspicions.

"Charlie hates it when people make a big deal out of him. He'd rather the paintings be the focus, not the artist."

"You're so good, it's hard not to look at both."

Ty grinned. He tucked his arm through Charlie's and hugged it too his side. "Me, I take the artist any day."

The front door banged open and the dogs erupted again, dashing for the front of the house. They soon came back, Keith's loud complaints preceding them into our part of the room.

"You great big daft idiot. Don't you know that purple is such a non-threatening color. Couldn't you at least come to the door with something more sinister than an escapee from the Barney zone?" He stomped into the room. "You are so fired as my personal security --"

He froze the minute he saw I wasn't alone. As oblivious as always, the dogs bounced around his feet and demanded more verbal abuse. They loved it when Keith chastised them. He always played tug of war with them afterwards and gave them treats when he thought I wasn't looking.

"Oh, hello. I didn't know there was anyone else here --"

"This is Charlie Reid and Tyler McKay. They're booked for six days, remember?"

"Reid? The artist?" Keith pushed Shadow away and told him to sit. Then he extended his hand to the pair on the couch. "My pleasure, sir."

I stood up and grabbed Keith's hand. He pulled me to his side and put his arm around me. "I was just going to offer Charlie and Ty a quick tour of the grounds," I said. "Want to join us?"

[More to come]

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