6. Chapter Six

Chapter Six

Among those who practiced law in Richmond, Jon Wells' opponents would admit, under oath, that the man wasn't bested in a courtroom. He went in with his facts secure and his offensive and defensive strategies firmly mapped. He was always completely prepared to represent his clients to the best of his abilities with success as the only outcome he'd permit.

Fortunately for Jon, most of his clients weren't like Matthew Collins who'd kept enough shit from him to fill a manure spreader.

Case in point… "What do you mean you gave Roberta Collins five-hundred-thousand dollars ? Based on the information I was able to find, it was fifty-thousand dollars, and I didn't even want that money to change hands. She'll only come back for more." Jon's ire was truly up for the first time in a long time, and unfortunately, the octave of his voice as well.

He was used to keeping a cool head, but he was also used to his clients valuing and following his advice. He didn't like this new territory in which he found himself, butting heads with Tim Moran and his lawyer. His lack of control over the situation was unnerving.

Ronni Turnberry, who was plucking Jon's very last nerve with her superior attitude, smirked. "We thought it was best if you and Matthew didn't know the terms of the agreement until Roberta's cooperation was inveterate. We secured the affidavits and documentation necessary to ensure she never tried to come to Matt or Tim for more money, and we have an ironclad arrangement with her going forward.

"I recently confirmed she's content in Toronto with a new husband and building a new life. She's even pregnant. She won't come knocking on your door again." Ronni glanced between Matt and Jon.

"Wait, she's pregnant ? Dear God, Ryan can't find out." Matt took Tim's hand, and Tim nodded in return. Jon wasn't sure why they were so intent on keeping the news from the boy, but it wasn't his call.

"And he won't. She has no desire to be in touch with her family in the States, and she's applied for citizenship in Canada. She and her new husband own a hunting and fishing business of some sort, thanks to your generous endowment, Tim. It's all in the past," Ronni assured.

Jon cleared his throat as he took in Matt's countenance. "You've left me in the dark on a lot of things, Matt. Care to enlighten me now, after the fact? How can I represent you effectively if I don't know what's going on in your life and the details associated therewith?"

Jon knew he was on a slippery slope to keep Matt as a client, and he was extremely grateful Mickey had given him the heads-up before he walked into a hornet's nest.

Luckily, Jon had remembered the client file Karen had copied before he left the office, so he had everything at his fingertips he needed for the ensuing confrontation. He was ready for the battle, and he was planning to win the war.

"Yeah, I'm sorry, Jon, but until—well, Timmy and I are gonna get married, and we want to combine our assets. That's why we called both y'all to come out. Ronni's got Tim's trust and properties, not that I want him to include me on that shit, but I want him included on the ranch and everything here. We haven't started plannin' a weddin', but it's gonna be small. We wanted to get the paperwork started and underway before we let everybody know about our plans." Matt wrapped his arm around Tim's shoulders and hugged him.

Jon was about ready to jump out of his skin at hearing the man's proclamation. What the fuck was the sudden rush with every gay person he knew to run down the aisle? It was fucking ridiculous and premature, in his opinion. He took a cleansing breath and turned to Matt, prepared to gently offer an alternative to the M-word.

"Married? Are you sure you're ready for that step? Maybe the first thing to do is to just register as domestic partners and have a commitment ceremony. Marriage is a big step—a really big step. In Virginia, its equitable distribution, not equal property. If you put all your holdings into the marriage, the state will allocate property as they see fit in the event things fall apart. Since Tim doesn't really have a job and his assets are limited, Matt, you might end up paying him spousal support, even though you have a minor son.

"I'd suggest you should keep things static for a while longer and give your relationship more time to see if it's going to be permanent. We can create cross powers of attorney so you each have say in any medical decisions and you can even name Tim as Ryan's legal guardian for the purposes of dealing with school and medical emergencies, but I ask you to really consider the ramifications of marriage, especially since you have already suffered the effects of a problematic divorce." Jon tried to put it in as simple of terms as he could.

Matt chuckled. "Jon, Tim's got a job, and he's worth a helluva lot more money than me. Ronni, how much was it at last count since you moved some things around and made additional investments?"

Ronni handed out bound booklets to the three of them and smiled like the cat who got the cream. Jon knew she was sizing him up for the takedown, and he was immediately nervous.

"Gentlemen, if you turn to page ten where the latest accounting shows the balances as of the end of the year. It's been a good year for Tim's investments." Ronni stared at Jon with a cocked eyebrow.

As Jon was about to open the cover of the spiral-bound booklet, Tim placed his hand on top of the clear plastic cover and when Jon glanced up, he saw the blond man with a remorseful smile. "Look, Jon, we didn't set out not to tell you everything, but it's taken Matty a while to wrap his head around things, and well, my business has started picking up more than I thought it ever would. Dean Campbell should be on my payroll, but he says it's as much for him as me that he sings praises about my services. Don't be upset with Matt, okay? You did such a great job with the Ryan situation, we really owe you, and we want you to stay on with us."

The comments made Jon less skeptical about Timothy Moran, but he'd met an actor or two along the way. Barron had been a good one, and Eric Slade, his old fuckbuddy from El Paso before Barron, was another example. He'd had Jon traveling to Texas at least once a month to meet him at a hotel for a weekend of fucking. That was when Jon found out he was a cheating bastard.

The premise of Jon's last trip to El Paso had been to meet Colonel Stanford and his family, but it had also given him the opportunity to meet up with his lover, Eric, for a romantic weekend. Unfortunately, Eric's wife—who Jon knew nothing about—had him followed. The private investigator had busted into their hotel room and had taken some very incriminating photos of the two of them in flagrante delicto.

Sammy Williams, the head of security at Langley & Wells, had tracked the guy down and paid the PI not to turn over the pictures to anyone except Jon to avoid a scandal. Jon had dumped Eric when the truth came out, and he prayed that was the end of it, and of his blind stupidity.

Of course, there was no guarantee the copies the PI had turned over to Sammy, which Jon had subsequently destroyed, were the only copies out there. If they ever got out, Jon was sure there'd be a hell of an ass chewing from his father.

Jon nodded and turned to page ten as instructed by Ronni Turnberry, trying very hard to reserve his judgment of her. When he looked at the long list of addresses and the list of newly acquired stocks, he was genuinely surprised.

When he saw the bottom line, Jon's eyebrows nearly shot up into his hairline. "$7,509,341.00 (rounded to the nearest dollar)." He nearly lost the delicious dinner Mickey had served earlier.

"Holy shit! I had no idea… Matt, you didn't…" Yes, Jonathon Wells was dumbstruck.

"Hey, we only found out before the end of the year, and after Tim studied it, he decided to sell a few properties and donate his old house in New Jersey to charity. He did some investing to diversify his portfolio and here we are, right?" Matt turned to Tim, who smiled and nodded.

Jon cleared his voice. "Okay, so what can we help you with? What would you like to accomplish?" He'd given up all thoughts of trying to wrestle the work away from Ronni Turnberry. She was much more astute in dealing with trusts and financial planning than he'd ever hoped to be. Family law was his specialty.

"We want the two of you to work together to ensure everything is in both of our names so all our holdings are jointly owned. In the event anything happens to one or both of us, we want to be sure our son is covered. We don't want anyone to believe they have any claim to anything we own except Matt, Ryan, and myself."

Tim stared at the two of them and grinned when Ronni and Jon nodded. "Sure." "Of course."

"Aside from all of that, I want to set up a separate, irrevocable trust for Ryan, hopefully for his college tuition, but if anything would happen to break up Matt and me, I want to ensure Ryan would have the funds available for whatever he might want or need. We want to prepare wills, too, so we thought you could work together toward an end goal. I'm sure it's not unusual for two lawyers of your caliber to work together on such a small matter, but we'll pay retainers and whatever additional fees are necessary. We want everyone to feel comfortable with the outcome. We don't want to lose either of you."

Tim turned to Jon. "I'd like to patent, copyright, or trademark my new computer inventory and ordering system, whatever offers me the most protection. Do you have people who can handle it at Langley & Wells or should Clauson handle it?"

Ronni spoke up. "We actually don't have intellectual property expertise at the firm, but I'm sure Jon and I can come up with some great IP counsel in the area. We'll get together a short list, right Jon?" Ronni suggested, conciliatory tone present since she'd learned neither would lose Tim or Matt as clients.

Truth be told, Jon was relieved to still have a seat at the table. "A buddy of mine from law school practices at our branch office in Alexandria, and he's great with intellectual property. I'll get together some information regarding his specialty and his client base, along with a strategic plan to protect your system. I can have him contact you next week. Thankfully, for the sake of expenses, the office is close to the Patent & Trademark Office."

Ronni gave a reassuring smile of truce, and Jon returned it. She seemed to be as good at her job as he believed he was at his, and he was looking forward to working with her. With the potential net worth of the Moran-Collins family, there'd be enough work to go around.

When they adjourned the meeting, Jon went downstairs to go to bed for the night. He was greeted with a truly beautiful sight—Ryan was asleep on the large sectional with his head resting on Mickey's lap. Mickey was leaned back at an awkward angle on the couch, and Jon didn't have it in him to leave the poor guy in that position. The remnants of chocolate milk and brownie crumbs made Jon's heart beat an extra pump.

Jon walked over to the couch to retrieve a throw pillow from the floor before he scooted the little boy down and rested his head upon it. He then pulled a blanket off the back of the sectional to cover Ryan.

After he was settled, Jon stepped closer to Mickey, the handsome cowboy, taking in his striking, rugged looks. The young man couldn't be more than twenty-five, if Jon was guessing, but he was a damn fine specimen of male virility.

Mickey was lithe in build, but not skinny. He had long legs and a tight ass—as Tim Moran had pointed out to Jon earlier in the day. His skin was a bit sun-kissed, and he had a few light freckles on his nose and cheeks. He had long, brown eyelashes and his soft, pink pout which captured Jon's attention when they met for the second time. The total package was fucking incredible and possibly irresistible if one were in the market. Jon was not.

If Jon was looking for a guy to fuck around with, Mickey Warren was the perfect toy, even though Jon couldn't guess his orientation. Of course, after the fiasco with Barron, and Jon's recent vow of not dating younger guys, it was back to the club scene for a quicky in the bathroom. He certainly wasn't going to mess with the straight employee of a client.

"God, yeah. Ride me." The young cowboy was whispering in his sleep.

Jon could see an impressive bulge in his tight jeans which brought involuntary plumping in Jon's as well. The visual display the words put into his head brought forth some of the best porn Jon had ever seen online. It was nearly too much to bear.

When the guy whispered again, Jon knew he had to put a stop to it. "Fuck, yes! Just like that." Mickey flexed his hips into the air in a particularly raunchy motion.

As much as Jon was enjoying the unintended show, he wasn't really a voyeur. He decided to wake the man before it got any more graphic—and possibly sticky.

"Mickey! Wake up, cowboy." He roughly jostled the man's shoulder. When Mickey's eyes popped open and Jon saw the beautiful green of them, he almost regretted his decision not to see it through to climax.

"Oh…uh, yeah. Yeah. I'm awake. What's, uh, Jon, what's up, man?" Obviously, Mickey was disoriented, and he had the most adorable face filled with confusion.

"I moved Ryan down and settled him on a pillow. You looked like you were about to break your neck. What movie did you watch?" Jon hoped to get the man off the track of whether he'd embarrassed himself by talking out loud during his lusty dream, which Jon assumed was about Ronni Turnberry.

"We, uh, we started with Cars and ended with WALL-E. Some of Disney and Pixar's finest. Did y'all get things hammered out? They didn't fire ya, did they?" Mickey stood from the couch and stretched, showing Jon a bit of a very toned stomach.

There was a trail of rust-colored hair leading south into those Wranglers, and it was damn enticing as Jon took it in before his brain engaged to cut off his libido. Stop. Too young. Nothing in common.

Jon almost forgot he'd been asked a question, but when he glanced at Mickey's face, he remembered. "No, but thanks for the heads-up. We figured out a strategy to combine forces to give our clients the best representation possible. I'm glad you clued me in to her intentions because I'd have gone in there like a fool and likely lost most of Matt's business. I'd like to take you for dinner as thanks if you ever get to Richmond. I'll get you one of my cards." Jon wished he could rewind the words as he heard them spill out of his mouth.

Why the hell did you just invite the kid for a dinner date in Richmond? Clearly, the fresh air in the country had fucked with Jon's brain and his filter had gone on the fritz, not allowing him to think straight—which also wasn't possible.

"I don't leave the ranch much, but Matt did ask me to take Tim's truck to Richmond in a few weeks to get the oil changed and pick up some supplies we can't get around here. I could call ya, and we could have lunch or supper before I head home. I'd like that." Mickey's face lit up, and Jon knew immediately that he'd fucked up.

Jon was in it up to his neck, so he reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, grabbing one of his business cards to offer to the young man. "Give me a call a few days ahead of time so I can keep the evening open. I look forward to it." He was such a fucking liar.

Mickey took it and looked it over thoroughly as Jon watched him. "Thanks. I'll be in touch. Night, Jon." Mickey grabbed his boots and turned off the television and the lights, leaving a light on in the bathroom with the door open for Ryan and to help Jon find his room.

Jon walked into the bedroom he'd been offered to see it was quite nice. He hadn't paid any attention earlier when he dropped off his bag, but as he looked around, he saw it was painted a nice coffee color with blue accents. It was masculine, as he'd expect from a house full of men, but it was homey, just like he'd found everything to be at the ranch.

He was happy he'd agreed to accept their invitation for the weekend. It turned out to be a very nice surprise.

Concentrating on other matters helped Jon put off all thoughts of Mickey Warren so he could fall into a restful sleep. The bed was perfectly firm but not so much that he'd call it hard.

Jon decided he'd inquire about the brand of the mattress because he was looking for a new one for his condo in Richmond. The old one in his bedroom had far too much mileage for Jon to keep it, so it was time for a change.

He vowed to himself not to bring tricks home with him any longer. Cheap motel, car, alley, club bathroom—all were acceptable for anonymous sex. His home and sanctuary? No longer an option.

Jon awoke sometime later to the sounds of the shower in the bathroom outside his door. He looked out the half-window in the bedroom to see it was still dark, so he turned on the bedside light and checked his phone—five-fucking-thirty in the morning. Jesus, what the fuck?

He rolled over and tried to go back to sleep, but then he heard giggling in the hallway. " I gotta go, Mick! " It was a little-boy-voice that whisper-shouted.

"Shh! We have a guest, Ryan. Get in here and go. Don't flush it or you'll give me an ice bath." It was Mickey's voice, and he sounded happy at such an ungodly hour.

Jon wondered how much they'd paid the contractor for the remodel of the ranch house because the walls in the basement seemed to be pretty thin, but as he listened to the two of them talking, Jon was glad he could hear clearly.

"You gonna shave today, Mick? Do you shave every day? How long you think before I gotta shave?" Ryan was asking questions in rapid-fire fashion. Suddenly, there was the flush.

"Fuuuuck! I told you…" Mickey shouted as Ryan giggled.

"You did it on purpose, you little shit." Jon smiled as the shower turned off and the door opened.

"You cold?" Ryan asked with a giggle.

"Git, you ungrateful little whelp. I'm tellin' on ya." Mickey's voice was angry, but apparently, Ryan wasn't afraid, laughing the whole way up the stairs.

Jon chuckled at the exchange between the two and decided it was time to join the land of the living, regardless of the fact he hadn't had much sleep. He hopped up from the bed and opened the door to use the facilities, seeing Mickey Warren standing in the hallway wearing just a towel.

The beautiful vision in front of him froze Jon's brain for a moment. The man was temptingly hot and sexy, causing Jon to gulp in a necessary breath so he didn't make an ass of himself. The tenting in his boxers wasn't a surprise. Mickey had a great fucking body—not too bulky, but not flabby at all. There was definition, which was exactly how Jon liked his men.

"Shit! Did we wake ya up? The boy flushed the… Well, you can likely guess. Go ahead and use it, then go back to bed. I need to get up to Marty and Jeri's house to pick up Corky. Matt had the dog fixed, and he's been up the hill at the grandparents' place, so he didn't get too worked up because of company."

The longer Mickey stood there holding the towel around his waist, the harder Jon's cock became. It was embarrassing but turning away from the vision in front of him wasn't possible.

Mickey kept talking, his voice pinched with nerves. "The vet called yesterday to say the dog can come home now, and it's a surprise for Ryan. Shit! I'm sorry for runnin' my mouth. Go back to bed." Mickey slipped into his room and shut the door.

Once in the bathroom, Jon took a contemplative breath, wishing to hell he'd been in the shower with the hot cowboy. He could smell the man's scent in the leftover steam, and it was enticing, all clean soap and male. Jon was nearly staggered by it.

After finishing his morning business—waiting out the hard-on to empty his bladder—Jon heard people upstairs moving around in the kitchen, so he decided to stay up. He was going home in the early afternoon, so he could catch a late nap if necessary.

It was important that Jon learn more about the comings and goings at the Circle C. While he was there, it was smart to avail himself of the routine. It could be enlightening.

Jon dressed in another pair of jeans and a thin, yellow, cashmere sweater. He skipped the shave, deciding to just wash his face and brush his teeth. He needed a trim on his hair, so he wet it and pushed it closer to his head before he felt presentable.

He picked up his boots, which would never be the same, and went upstairs after making the bed. His mother had taught him how to be a proper houseguest, after all.

As Jon climbed the stairs, the sound of music and laughter drifted down the stairway from the kitchen. When he hit the top step, he saw Tim in Matt's arms as the two of them danced around the kitchen with Ryan on the counter, clapping and laughing.

Jon stayed in the shadows, trying to hear the song. It wasn't one he was familiar hearing—he didn't listen to country music, but the lyrics that mentioned not wearing shoes or a shirt not being a problem, were quite interesting.

Had he heard it in a bar somewhere? Jon wasn't sure, but as the three of them delighted in dancing around and singing along, he had a feeling he was missing something special in his life.

When the song ended, Matt picked up Ryan and jostled him. "After we get this marriage business sorted out, you and me, we're gonna plan the honeymoon and make it a surprise for Timmy, whaddya think?"

The boy leaned forward and whispered something, and Matt laughed. "That's definitely a possibility. Set the table. We'll eat and leave plates for Miss Ronni and Mr. Jon."

"Is Mick comin' back to eat or will we leave him a plate?" Jon was interested in Ryan's question as well, though he hated to admit it.

"He grabbed a coffee and went to the barn. After he's finished feeding, he's gonna go check on Corky. The vet dropped him off yesterday, and Gramma and Papa have been taking care of him. We didn't tell you because he needed to be quiet after his surgery, but he'll be back to normal pretty soon. Josie can come home today, too. Gramma will probably insist on feeding Mickey, so don't worry about him." Tim continued his work at the stove.

Jon walked into the kitchen, trying to appear as if he hadn't heard the earlier exchange. Ryan jumped off the counter, pumping his hand in the air to slap Jon's once he entered the kitchen. "You keep very early hours around here."

"I'm sorry, Jon, if we woke you. Mickey seems to sleep like a rock, so we forget about the stomping around we do up here. I hope we didn't wake Ronni. I doubt she's used to getting up this early." Tim glanced over his shoulder as he stirred scrambled eggs.

"Nothing to worry about. I get to the gym by six to work out before I go to the office. My work isn't exactly physical like yours, but I'm not a stranger to early mornings or late nights. Tell me what I can do to help." Jon was sincere in his offer. He helped at his parents' house when he went out for weekends.

Tim filled a large thermos with coffee and pulled a pan of muffins from the oven, spilling them into a basket. He turned to Jon and smiled. "If you'd take these down to the barn office and leave them on the desk, I'd appreciate it. I'll have breakfast ready by the time you get back."

Jon nodded and sat down to put on his Cole Haan boots. "Whoa! Those are far too nice to go sloppin' down to the barn. What size you wear?" Matt asked.

"Twelve." Jon heard Tim giggle.

Matt stood from his seat and smiled. "Me too. You can use my other pair of muck boots. It rained overnight. Just tuck your jeans in, and leave 'em on the deck when ya come back. I'll hose 'em off later." Matt led Jon out to the back porch where there was a metal tray of boots waiting.

Matt handed him a pair of black rubber boots. "I'm glad you were prepared for that little showdown last night. I was fightin' for ya, man. Tim wasn't sure you could hold your own against Ronni, though he didn't think she'd be able to handle everything we're doin' on her own. She's been managin' his trust for a few years, so he thought maybe she'd be best at handlin' the changes we're tryin' to make. I didn't want to take the work away from ya, so I'm glad we had a good showin'. Sometimes Timmy don't think I know about stuff because I didn't go to college, but I've got a few tricks up my sleeve. Great job." Matt gave Jon a hearty clap on the back.

"I've got it under control, Matt. I'll figure out a way to establish a working relationship with Ms. Turnberry to suit you and Tim. She doesn't scare me."

"Good." With that, Matt walked back into the house, leaving Jon standing on the porch with the basket of muffins and the coffee.

After a deep breath, Jon walked toward the barn, and after craftily maneuvering the few gates, he opened the barn door, hearing a horse pawing the floor.

That was a sound Jon was used to hearing. His large gelding, Hercules, was still at the farm in Dillwyn, even though he hadn't ridden him in at least a year. He missed the horse, and as he thought about it, he remembered a lot of good times at the country house.

His mother had a penchant for hiring hot stable hands, and though he'd only found a few he'd have considered fucking—if not for the fact his mother would have killed him—they were all pretty to watch.

After dropping off the muffins and coffee in the barn office, Jon walked down the hallway to see where all the racket was coming from. He saw a majestic stallion with a beautiful mane and tail, along with a glorious, black coat, pawing the stall floor.

Jon snapped his fingers and whistled, getting the stud's attention. "What's wrong?"

The horse slung its head over the stall door, snorting. Jon looked inside to see the grain box was full, along with the hayrack. There was an automatic water fountain in the corner, and as he surveyed the surroundings, Jon was impressed. The barn wasn't as big as the one at his parents' place, but it was well-appointed.

Jon rubbed his hand over the horse's nose and forehead. "You're a beauty."

The stallion was a surprise. In that small barn, Jon hadn't expected to be greeted by such a striking animal. Watching the horse in his large stall led Jon to believe the stallion had an impressive pedigree. He could appreciate the majesty of such an animal.

His mother owned horses with impressive bloodlines, but Jon hadn't seen a gaited stallion like the one slinging its head in front of him. The animal was restless, but he was still well-behaved.

"Hey, fella. You're a beauty. You'd like to be outside, wouldn't you?" Jon spoke calmly to the stallion after it snorted at him while he scratched the animal's bridge and forehead. The stud seemed to calm and moved his head in time with Jon's scratching.

"Ah, you can charm horses as well as cowboys, little boys, and female lawyers?" Jon turned to see Mickey walking into the barn hallway with a dog in his arms.

"Not as well as you, but I have my own way of getting along with animals. Who's that?" Jon asked as he pointed to the dog in his arms.

"This is Corky. He's our resident farm mutt, but he's Ryan's best friend. He just had done to him what Matt did to those calves yesterday. He's healed up, but I still feel for the poor bastard. I sure wouldn't want anybody doin' to me what they did to him."

Mickey nuzzled the dog. It was so ugly it was cute, and it was then Jon remembered something from the custody hearing.

"He was the bait, right? That's what Roberta used to keep Ryan content after she picked him up from school." Jon hated blaming the poor dog for something not its fault.

Jon wasn't happy he'd allowed his temper to take over, but he'd disliked Roberta Collins from the very first moment Matt had told him about their marital situation. In the back of Jon's mind, he wondered if Ryan was really Matt's son, but looking at the two of them together, he was certain his suspicious nature got the best of him. There was no way Ryan wasn't the son of the bull rider.

Mickey kissed the dog on his head before he gingerly placed it on the floor of the barn hallway, holding onto the leash. "From what I heard, yeah. I can't hold it against him, though. He was an unwillin' party to that shit, as was Ryan. The boy still feels bad about goin' with his momma and leaving his daddy behind.

"Matt and Tim have talked to some doctor about sittin' down with Ryan ‘cause the boy has nightmares sometimes. The things people do to each other, huh? It's no wonder people wanna commit murder. It makes me sick to think about it." Mickey's face was somber, just as Jon expected. Nobody wanted to see a family crumble.

Jon nodded in solemn agreement. He'd seen his fair share of the damage people could do to each other. It was one of the reasons he didn't believe in marriage.

Monogamy was a rare concept, and it didn't work with too many species—maybe penguins and swans, from what he remembered from his time in school.

Other than that? The rest of the animal kingdom went out and fucked, like animals . It was nature's way, and Jon wasn't about to question his place in the hierarchy. He wasn't one to settle down.