Valentine Cowboy
By Drew Hunt
Published by JMS Books LLC at Smashwords
Visit jms-books.com for more information.
Copyright 2012 Drew Hunt
ISBN 9781611522471
For more titles by Drew Hunt at Smashwords visit https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/drewhunt
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Cover Photo Credit: Maryna Fatseyeva, sunny13
Used under a Standard Royalty-Free License.
Cover Design: J.M. Snyder
All Rights Reserved
WARNING: This book is not transferable. It is for your own personal use. If it is sold, shared, or given away, it is an infringement of the copyright of this work and violators will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.
No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review.
This book is for ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It contains substantial sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which may be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be accessed by minors.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Published in the United States of America.
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Valentine Cowboy
By Drew Hunt
For all those who wanted more Calvin and Brock.
Walking up the steps of the 14th Street subway station, Brock shivered. New York City in February was fucking freezing, especially if all you were wearing was an open-necked shirt over a wife-beater.
“Note to self,” he mumbled. “Next time you get any romantic bright ideas, check the fuckin’ weather forecast first.”
Emerging onto 7th Avenue, he headed for the bodega, but he’d barely gone a couple of steps before a guy in a leather jacket smiled at him and gave him a slow once over. This was the fourth or fifth person who’d checked him out since he’d put on the shirt. Brock hoped Calvin’s reaction would be just as positive.
He knew it was dumb, but he wanted to recreate the scene seven months earlier when he’d first run into Calvin. But the shirt he’d worn then no longer fit. Since moving to New York, Brock’s body-shape had changed. He’d lost much of the fat from his belly, his chest had broadened, and his arms had developed. Although he’d joined the same gym Calvin used, he knew most of his improved physique was due to the hard physical labor of flipping apartment blocks. Despite the downturn in the economy, Brockwell Construction was going from strength to strength. If things continued as they were, Brock would have to talk to Calvin about hiring more workers to make up a second crew.
His eyes soon zeroed in on a display of long-stemmed red roses outside the bodega. He gulped at the price, but his man was worth every cent. Without Calvin he and Junior would be… Brock shook his head; he wasn’t going to think about what would have happened if Calvin Hamilton hadn’t walked into his life, swept him off his feet and…
Brock picked up a wrapped bouquet of a dozen roses—complete with baby’s breath and other bits of greenery.
Opening the door of the bodega, he stepped aside to let a lady carrying bulging grocery sacks in each hand go past.
She smiled, thanked him and said, “Nice shirt.”
“Uh, thank you, ma’am.” Brock touched the brim of his Resistol hat.
Inside the store he looked around for Valentine’s cards, cursing himself for not getting himself organized sooner. Not seeing any, he took the flowers to the register and asked where their cards were.
“Sorry, you’ll have to go to the Duane Reade across the street,” the man said, ringing up the flowers.
Brock nodded and then swiped his card, relieved to know he had enough money in the bank to cover his purchase, something he hadn’t had the luxury of for quite some time. Calvin’s belief in him had allowed Brock to reclaim his dignity and sense of self-worth. But Brock was determined he would pay his lover back every dime he’d spent getting the business up and running, whether his stubborn partner liked it or not.
Exiting the store, Brock approached the curb and waited for the light. Unlike back in Texas, the stores here tended to be very specific in what they sold; it was often necessary to visit several to get all you needed.
As he waited he began to have second thoughts about his purchase. Calvin hadn’t mentioned anything about Valentine’s Day; didn’t he celebrate it? Would Brock end up making a fool of himself by giving Calvin flowers and a card and taking him out to dinner?
Crossing the street, Brock entered the drug store and quickly found the cards, shaking his head at the bewildering choice. Had it been a rack of piping or a wall of veneer samples, he’d know pretty quickly what would work.
He picked up and examined card after card, but none conveyed the totality of the love and gratitude he felt toward Calvin. He sighed in exasperation.
“I hear ya,” a female voice sympathized from behind him. “So many to choose from.”
“Way too many.” Brock turned to face a slight woman of color in a pale-green trench coat, a brightly patterned scarf tied around her neck. He took off his hat. “I’m totally out of my league.”
“Are you looking for something funny, sweet, or…”
“I’m not sure.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “Well, ma’am, it’s our first Valentine’s.” Even after living with Calvin for several months, Brock was still hesitant to reveal that he was gay.
The lady smiled. “Male or female?”
“Uh…” Yet again Brock was surprised at how accepting most people in New York were. “The card is for my boyfriend, Calvin.”
“What kind of person is he? Funny, sweet, kind?”
Brock swallowed. “Well…without him I’d…he’s everything.” He closed his eyes. “He’s just…everything to me.”
“He’s a lucky man.” Brock could hear the smile in the woman’s voice.
He opened his eyes and shook his head. “Trust me, I’m the lucky one.”
“Don’t sell yourself short.” The woman gave the card stand a quarter turn before looking back up at him. “Answer me this. Does Calvin have good taste?”
Brock saw where the lady was going. “Maybe I’m his one flaw.”
The woman laughed. “Nice try, but I’m not buying it. I saw some interesting cards over there.”
They walked over to another rack. The lady picked out a few cards and showed them to Brock.
“Oh, yeah, these are better, but they’re not quite… Sorry. I never knew this would be so hard.”
“The more in love you are, the harder it is to pick a card that says just the right thing.”
“Yeah.” Brock sighed. Although he’d loved his ex-wife, it wasn’t anything like what he felt for Calvin.
The woman removed another card from the rack and read, “When I count my blessings, I count you twice.”
Brock shrugged. It was close, and would do if nothing else could be found. “Sorry I’m being so difficult.”
The woman smiled, shook her head and put the card back.
“You’ve probably got better things to do than pick out Valentine’s cards for love-sick men.”
The woman let out a mellow, rich laugh. “Not a problem, honestly.” She returned to the cards. “Oh, now this one looks promising.” She plucked the card from the rack and handed it to Brock.
The card showed a cowboy leaning up against a split rail fence and holding a bunch of wild flowers in his hand. Brock opened the card and read the words inside.
I knows I ain’t real smart
But this is from my heart
I think yer purty darn fine
Will you be my valentine?
She smiled. “It’s a little, uh, rustic, but…”