Cut and Run 6 - Stars and Stripes

hands to gesture as he related a story the others were laughing and shaking their heads at. Zane had long ago become convinced that if Ty’s hands were tied behind his back, he wouldn’t be able to string together a single sentence.
    Ty seemed at home in Zane’s black Stetson, which he hadn’t taken off since Zane had placed it on his head. It looked damn good on him.
    Zane hummed and started moving again. He weaved through the tables and arrived at his chair, thumping against Ty as a gaggle of girls passing by almost knocked him into Ty’s lap.
    Ty reached out to help catch him with one hand, holding the beer bottle way out to the side with his broken hand so it wouldn’t spill. “Whoa, Lone Star,” he said, laughing as he looked Zane up and down with a critical eye. “You’ll have to buy me dinner before you get that far.”
    “I already bought you dinner,” Zane pointed out as he righted himself and sat down.
    “And he’s already gotten that far!” Mark added.
    Ty shook his head, but he was still watching Zane from under the brim of his black hat.
    “You call him Lone Star?” Annie asked, snickering.
    “He calls me a lot of things.”
    “We need to order wings. And poppers,” Mark said, thumping his bottle on the table. Marissa stood and started waving her hand, trying to flag down a server.
    Zane snorted and glanced at Ty. Ty was watching him with that crooked half-smile Zane loved so much. It took more willpower than Zane expected to quash the urge to sit up, lean over, and kiss him right there.
    “Z, you’re undressing him with your eyes. Take it out back if you have to,” Mark said, voice droll. Zane kicked at him under the table, and Mark kicked back a few times as they tried to get at each other.
    Ty seemed content to let them rag each other without adding his own comments. He sat back and finished the bottle he’d been nursing. Zane could feel his eyes on him, though.
    The conversation veered into current events around the ranches, and since Zane hadn’t kept up with anyone, he didn’t have anything to add. It freed his attention to turn back to Ty.
    “So, Grady,” Zane said, keeping his voice down. “Thought about what you’re going to sing?”
    Ty groaned and reached for the bucket of beers in the middle of the table. “I guess I’ll take requests if I really have to do it.”
    “God, don’t do that. They’ll pick something off the list of shame.”
    “Then you pick one for me,” Ty invited in a voice just loud enough to carry to Zane.
    The thought of Ty singing something just for him was arresting. Ty didn’t sing often, and when he did it was either because he was being forced to or had been drinking. Zane looked back to Ty and felt that urge again, this time with the visual of yanking Ty up out of that chair and laying him out on the table, which made all thoughts of possible song choices scatter.
    He leaned forward until he was close enough to smell Ty, close enough to imagine he could taste the sweat on Ty’s neck.
    Jesus, waiting until they got home was going to kill him.
    “Will you sing something for me?” he asked, low and intimate.
    Ty swallowed hard, and their eyes locked as Ty licked his lips. “Anything you want to hear.”
    Zane’s heart rate ratcheted up. He set his glass down and stood. “Time for a quick break,” he said under his breath. He needed to cool off.
    Ty nodded, frowning as Zane moved away. He excused himself from the table, and a moment later he was at Zane’s side, fingers sliding around Zane’s arm. “You okay?”
    Zane cleared his throat and managed a laugh. Having Ty so close wasn’t helping him calm down enough for public consumption. He shifted his weight and met Ty’s eyes. The crowded bar seemed to slow around them, fading into the background as Zane’s world narrowed to the man in front of him.
    “Zane?”
    Zane nodded. They didn’t have to stay in public, and Zane wanted him badly. A few minutes away wouldn’t be a problem. “Come on.”
    Ty frowned in confusion, but after a glance back at the table, he followed Zane without questioning him again. Zane headed for the back of the honky-tonk, where there were tiny bathrooms and lines a mile long. It would be quieter there away from the music, and they could talk. Or not talk.
    They were in the back hallway, at the end of the line for the ladies’ room, when Zane spotted a utility room door open. He stopped and turned to Ty. Ty gave him a wary look, as if he knew