4. Briar

The air wasfresh and strangely peaceful when Briar woke the next morning.The storm had stopped sometime during the night, and the streets still had that rich, wet concrete smell that he loved.

The puppy"s blood panel had come back with signs of acute poisoning, and they hadn"t stabilized her until the wee hours before dawn.Nate said she"d probably gotten into a spill down at the scrapyard where Derek worked.It was surprisingly common and almost impossible to avoid in a place like that.Less than a teaspoon of ethylene glycol was enough to start shutting down the kidneys of a dog that size.But she would pull through; Nate seemed confident of it.

Still, Briar didn"t think he"d ever forget the look of guilt on Derek"s face.He loved that dog; there was no question in Briar"s mind about that.So why did he insist on giving her up?Did he think he was fooling anyone?Or was he just trying to fool himself?

It gnawed at the back of Briar"s mind like an itch he couldn"t scratch.He tossed and turned in bed for hours and woke with a heavy head and a tickle in the back of his throat.As he brushed his teeth and poured himself a breakfast of marshmallow cereal with nearly expired milk, he resented his flighty brain for fixating on something that was none of his business.

Before he left, Derek had tossed his credit card at them and ordered them to do whatever it took.That was all that should matter to Briar.But he still felt unsettled as he locked his apartment and set off for work.

In a town this size, it wasn"t much of a burden to be without a vehicle. Sweetwater was barely a speck on a map, and Briar had always preferred walking anyway.At least he wasn't huffing exhaust on a city freeway. Rush hour wasn"t a thing here. Everywhere he looked, something was growing, blooming, and living. The tiny, chittering birds scratching in the wet lawns kept him company.He didn't know what species they were.Just small, fragile creatures with feathers the color of dead leaves, blissfully searching for insects without a care in the world.

He wondered if they felt as exposed as he did.They weren't boxed in on all sides by steel and concrete like they would be in the city.There was nowhere to hide. Just him, the birds, and a sky so wide and blue it made him dizzy.

Small towns hit different, and he still wasn't sure if he liked it.He"d always attracted attention wherever he went.It was an unavoidable consequence of his effervescent personality and loud fashion choices.For the most part, he"d learned to ignore the perplexed and disdainful expressions of the townsfolk.But sometimes...it wore on him.

The air was so crisp that his nose was running by the time he let himself into the clinic.Nate was already there, looking sleepy and slightly puffy as he sorted the controlled substance locker.

"Morning." Briar sneezed.

Nate's head cranked around. "You sick?"

"I don't get sick," Briar said, hanging his jacket on a hook and adjusting the black fishnet scarf he'd knotted around his neck.It was admittedly a little extra, but it added enough flare to keep him from feeling dull as wallpaper paste in his professional attire.Today he'd chosen a silky gray pullover and black jeans.

"Nice fit," Nate said, giving his outfit a heavy dose of skeptical side-eye, "but you're going to regret it.We've got ranch calls all day."

"Aw, crap," he muttered, stumbling toward the coffee station behind the reception desk."You owe me compensation for all the pants I"ve ruined."

"You could try dressing appropriately," Nate said wryly.

"Death first!" he exclaimed, selecting a large silver thermos from the cabinet.He filled it almost halfway with strawberry-flavored creamer before dumping coffee on top.

Nate grimaced.

Briar wasn't sure if Nate"s expression was because of his outfit or his drink, so he tested it by locking eyes and slowly raising the cup to his mouth.He took a giant swig and smacked his lips in exaggerated delight.

"God, you're disgusting." Nate winced."That drink is at least sixty percent vegetable oil and sugar."

Briar shrugged. "That's what makes it delicious.But don't change the subject.We were talking about my compensation for relocating to a town with more cows than people."

"I warned you," Nate reminded him.

"Yeah, but you knew I didn't believe you.I had no idea my new life would be nothing but muck boots and abominations like chicken fried steak.It's not even chicken or steak."

"What happened to your plan to be vegetarian?"

Briar flushed and lifted his chin, injecting a jaunty superior tone when he said, "I'm on hiatus.Candace from the Stop n' Shop is teaching me to cook, and she doesn't know any vegetarian recipes."

"Just admit you missed bacon."

"Shut up."

Nate laughed and gave him an affectionate shove."Go check on your girl. Her vitals look good this morning."

"And you didn't lead with that?" He shoved his coffee into Nate's hands and tore through the clinic.

The puppy had a name, Briar was sure of it, but since Derek had stubbornly refused to share it, her tag said Princess.Nate had already removed her IV port, and she wagged her tail so hard when he came through the door that she upended herself and toppled backward.

"We should've named you Rocky," Briar murmured, scratching behind her adorably floppy ears before lifting her from her crate.She was already half-grown, but she wasn't ever going to be a bruiser like her owner.She"d always be just the right size to chase gophers and nip at heels.

"We'll keep her a few more days for observation," Nate said, observing from the doorway, "but after that we'll need to find her a home."

"She's already got a home," Briar said, lifting his chin when she tried to lick the frown off his face."The ogre with the giant chip on his shoulder, remember?"

Nate leaned against the jamb and crossed his arms."I remember. Roberta said he called first thing this morning to check on her.He said to approve everything, no limit, and then put her up for adoption after that."

"Asshole!" Briar exploded before he could stop himself, and when Nate looked at him askance, he quickly added, "Not you."

"You're not wrong," Nate said with a reluctant laugh."It's probably for the best. Some things just go against common decency, and leaving a puppy on Derek Owens' doorstep is one of them."

Briar's eyes narrowed. "He can't be that bad.Sure, he wasn't Mr. Congeniality, but so what?He was freezing his nuts off, and he still fixed the generator for me.He didn't even laugh when he saved me from the snake."

Nate's lips twitched when he said, "God, I wish he'd gotten a picture of that."

"It's not that I was stuck," Briar protested, trying to affect an air of offended dignity that he ruined with a hard sneeze."I just didn't trust myself not to accidentally hurt it."

"Sure," Nate agreed, his voice rich with amusement."So, you let a complete stranger with fists the size of Christmas hams do it for you."

"What's his deal, anyway?"

"No." Nate's expression changed in an instant.He straightened up from his slouch and jabbed a finger in Briar's direction."No way. Uh-uh. Absolutely not."

"What?"

"You're fishing."

"Aren't you the one always telling me to learn more about the locals?Make some friends?" Briar asked innocently."If anyone needs a friend, I bet it's him."

"He's straight, Briar."

The deep concern in his voice would have been insulting if he hadn't been the man who'd peeled Briar up off the floor after his last breakup and then frog-marched him down to the police station tofile a restraining order. Nate had seen him at his worst.When he spoke, Briar owed it to him to listen—or at least pretend.

"Of course, he's straight. Everyone in this town is straight." He gave Princess one last pat before setting her back in her crate and added pointedly, "Just like Tucker…right?"

"That's different."

"Oh, yeah?" Briar smirked. "How?"

Nate frowned and his brows furrowed.He was obviously having trouble cobbling together an explanation that wasn"t completely lame."Tucker's not exactly gay. He was just…waiting for me."

It would have sounded ridiculous coming from anyone else.But it was a simple fact when Nate said it.Right up there with gravity. Every morning, Nate opened his eyes with the rock-solid certainty that he was the most important thing in Tucker"s life.It was obvious to anyone with eyes that Tucker would rip out his own heart and serve it on a platter if Nate asked.

Sometimes, when the world had gone quiet and there were no ready distractions, Briar wondered what it felt like to be loved like that.

He hid his discomfort by grabbing a wad of paper towels from the wall dispenser and blowing his stuffy nose.

"Maybe someone out there is waiting for me," he muttered, but it sounded so ridiculous that he immediately laughed out loud.

"Not Derek Owens," Nate said sternly.

"I know."

"I'm serious."

"I know."

He tried to squeeze past, but Nate caught him by the bicep.His expression was grim. "I mean it, Briar.Remember how worried you were about someone jumping you when you first moved here?He's the type that would do it."

"Didn't his brother just come out?" Briar asked, aghast."West has been living with Michael Whittaker for months."

"I don't think that would stop him." Nate ducked his head and scrubbed at the back of his neck, obviously uncomfortable with theconversation."Look, I know better than most how dangerous it is to believe gossip, and I don't know the guy all thatwell.But it"s just common sense. You're obviously the antithesis of everything a man like Derek Owens standsfor.You knowthat."

Briar's eyesnarrowed.

"Don't get that look," Natewarned."I'm saying this for your owngood."

His eyes narrowed further, and his jawclenched. "Sure," he saidtightly.

Nate recognized that tone, and his expressiontwisted."That wasn't a dare,Briar."

"Of course not." Briar gave him a dismissive pat on the arm before brushing pasthim."I'll load the truck," he called cheerfully over hisshoulder."That should keep me out of trouble for a good fifteenminutes."

He wasn't sure, but he thought he heard Nate mutter something under hisbreath.It sounded an awful lot like, "Don't bet onit."