"That new guy next door's bull got into our pasture last night. Shelby thinks he might have bred some of my Angus." Sonny sat back down at the kitchen table and took another gulp of his coffee, the burn going down his throat just what he needed. "I tell ya. That city boy doesn't deserve a ranch. Why Jack decided to sell it to him and not me is beyond me. I bet the guy's never even seen a cow before last week."

Rawley chuckled. "Jack always had a reason for everything he ever did. I bet we'll figure it out eventually. Didn't you say Jack told you he met the city fella when he went to Chicago for the cattle convention? Maybe he saw somethin' in him that made Jack think he'd make a good rancher. It's only been a week. Cut the poor guy some slack. Maybe if you tried helping him instead of always criticizing he'd turn into a damn fine rancher." Rawley rocked back in his chair, tipping it back onto two legs. Sonny gave him the look. Their momma would have killed Rawley for doing that had she still been there.

Taking his empty cup to the sink, Sonny ran water over it and set it in the dish drainer. "No, I think I'll just ride the city fella out. Let him screw up so bad he's forced to sell the ranch to me." He took his battered straw cowboy hat off the hook by the door and adjusted it on his head. "Will you be home for supper?"

Setting his chair on all four legs, Rawley shook his head. "I've got a date with Meg. I probably won't be home at all. I'll just pack an extra uniform in the cruiser."

Sonny started to turn around and stopped. "When are you gonna just admit you're gay and stop stringing that poor girl along? It's been almost two years, if it hasn't happened by now, it's not gonna."

Rawley shook his head as he put his cup on the dish drainer. "I'm not gay. Three gay Goods are enough. I've had my share of fights with some of the people in this town. I'm not interested in another. Besides, how long do you think it would take this town to run off a gay Sheriff? And for the record, Meg and I are perfectly happy." Rawley took his Sheriff's Stetson off the peg by the door. "Now I've told you my personal business, don't bring it up again." Rawley shoved past Sonny and walked to the brown and tan sheriff's SUV.

Shaking his head, Sonny strode toward the barn hollering for his ranch hand. "Shelby. Let's get that fence fixed."

It was close on seven-thirty when Sonny quit for the day. His back felt tender as he slipped off his T-shirt. Summers in Nebraska were damn hot and this year was no exception. As much as he wanted to sit in front of the television in the air conditioned house and drink a beer, his stomach told him he also needed food.

Walking into the house, Sonny stripped off the rest of his clothes on the way to the bathroom. He figured he would take a quick cold shower and head in to the Dead Zone for a beer and a bite to eat.

Standing under the cool spray, Sonny soaped his hands and ran them over his body. He was the first to admit he wasn't a big tough cowboy like folks saw in the movies. He stood only five foot nine and weighed no more than one hundred eighty pounds. His muscles though, those he was plenty proud of. Not buffed up like some crazy weight lifter but they looked good on his smaller than average frame.

Running his hand down, Sonny quickly relieved himself of the day's tension. After coming, he cleaned up again and turned off the shower. He needed to get laid and stop taking care of it himself, he decided as he put on a fresh pair of jeans and a tight black T-shirt.

Grabbing his keys off the dresser and putting on his black-dress cowboy hat, Sonny headed into town. His stomach growled as he pulled into the Dead Zone's parking lot. It looked pretty empty, but then it was only Tuesday. The Zone was normally packed on a Friday and Saturday once everyone's work was done for the week. Although for Sonny, work was never done. He'd come back home when his daddy died and took over the ranch for his momma. She'd been happy to hand over the duties and went to live with her sister in Florida. He knew one of his brothers could've taken over, but Rawley was the town's sheriff and his twin baby brothers ran their own feedlot. So Sonny quit his job with the FBI and returned to Summerville.

Opening the heavy bar door, he tried to adjust his eyes to the dim lighting inside. He walked toward his usual table in the back and took a seat. Lilly came right over.

"Hi, gorgeous. You want the usual?" Lilly cracked her gum and winked at him. He'd known Lilly since she was a girl in pigtails. She was only twenty-one now, and he didn't understand what her momma was thinking letting a beauty like her work in a rowdy cowboy bar.

"Yeah. Give me the usual." Sonny finally looked around. "Seems kinda dead in here tonight." Sonny adjusted his black dress Stetson. This was one place that taking it off wasn't necessary.

Lilly nodded her head. "Yeah, that's why I'm taking off as soon as I get your order. The new bartender, Garron, will bring it over. I'll make sure I get your beer first though." With another wink, Lilly walked up to the bar and talked to the bartender. Gary? Garron. That was it.

Sonny looked at the hulking man behind the bar, definitely his type. Shoulder length dark brown hair held back in some sort of ponytail. He was big, at least six three with shoulders wider than a barn. He looked a little rough too. That was also how Sonny liked them. If he wanted sweetness and walks in the moonlight he'd be dating a woman. No, Sonny liked his sex hard and fast. Men just didn't require all the other. Sure a quick snuggle before he got up and went home was fine, but he didn't want anyone hanging on to him all the time. When he'd worked for the FBI in Dallas he'd had his share of rough looking biker dudes like this one. They were, by far, his favourite. They never wanted any ties from him. Sex on a regular basis and they were good to go.