Love Is Always Write Volume 4

at a motel in separate beds, Jay with his Kindle and Simon with his laptop. No conversation beyond the minimum. Simon growled again in remembered frustration, staring holes in Jay's muddy back.
    Off to the side of the cabins, the four horses huddled inside an open-fronted shed surrounded by a fenced paddock. Jay went around and pulled a bale of hay from under a tarp behind the shed.
    "Give it to me." Simon grabbed the strings holding the bale together, getting a quick unreadable look from Jay. "You go get their feed; I'll do the hay and check the water."
    "Thanks." Jay still wouldn't look at him.
    "Wow. Look at that. Your tongue didn't blacken and fall out." Simon heaved the bale onto one hip and reached for the gate latch. Why did he even bother?
    The horses nosed him, trying to reach the hay, and he nudged Goliath's black muzzle out of the way. He popped one string off the corner of the bale, freed it, and did the same to the second string. He spread the hay out along the back of the shed, elbowing the other three horses when they got pushy. Simon scooped some stray pieces of hay out of the full water tank and left it at that.
    Jay came through the gate with four buckets, and Simon went over and took two. He clipped them to the back wall of the shed, ducking under Goliath's neck to avoid getting pinned between him and Renfield, the bay gelding Simon had been riding all week. He stood up in time to catch sight of Jay leaning his forehead into Boxer's red-gold neck, one hand clutching the blond mane; a pose so at odds with the Jay of the past weeks it made him blink.
    He could see himself going over to Jay, laying a hand on his tensed shoulder, maybe giving it a squeeze. He just couldn't picture what would happen after that, mostly because he had no idea why Jay looked like he needed comforting. Weird.
    "So why 'Renfield'?" Simon asked, throwing the question out while he puzzled things over. "I mean, I get 'Goliath'. He's huge, it fits. But the other three: Renfield, Boxer and Elvis? Not so much."
    Jay uncurled his fist, and ran his hand along the gelding's shoulder. Simon thought he heard Jay sigh. "I bought Elvis in Memphis. At the time, his name was King." Jay's hand, big and broad, with long, blunt fingers, stroked Boxer's side. Boxer leaned into the caress and Simon imagined those fingers on him. In him. God, yes .
    Simon cleared his throat. "Got it. And the others?"
    Jay turned, not quite meeting Simon's eyes. "Boxer's registered name is 'Box of Rocks'."
    "Really." Simon tore his eyes off Jay's hand. Down boy . "What is he?"
    "American Warmblood. Belgian dam, Thoroughbred sire. He --" Jay shook his head, eyes sliding down to Simon's feet.
    "He what?" Simon kept his voice soft. If he hadn't seen Jay perform in front of a crowd with no trace of stage-fright whatsoever, he'd think Jay was terminally shy.
    "He was an Eventer. He went down on the course at Fair Hills; didn't get hurt, but after that?" Jay shrugged. "He freaked out over even small jumps. His owners wanted to unload him, so I got him cheap. He's over that now, but I don't need him to jump."
    Jay's body had lost the odd tension from a moment ago, and his voice sounded almost normal. Simon didn't understand why; then again, Jay talking beat Jay ignoring him hands down.
    Simon hooked a thumb over his shoulder. "And Renfield?"
    "Right. Um." Jay's wide, dark eyes met Simon's for a moment. He swallowed, and the tip of his tongue flicked his lower lip, making Simon's cock twitch. "His dam was a Shire named Bitsy Spider. And, uh, his sire was a Thoroughbred, a jumper, Lucy's Lover Boy. So --"
    "Oh, man." Simon snorted. "So, you got the spider part, and Dracula was Lucy's lover. Renfield. I get it. That's cool."
    Jay smiled, a slow upward curve of his mouth, and his eyes warmed. He had thick lashes, Simon realized, and they made the whites of his eyes even brighter against his tanned face. Still not cute, but ... damn.
    Goliath swung his butt, shoving Simon, and Jay backed into Boxer to keep the two of them from colliding. Then Boxer moved, bumping Jay forward and pressing him into Simon from chest to knees. Simon braced his hands on Boxer's side, bracketing Jay, at the same time Jay's hands landed on his shoulders. He looked down, Jay looked up, and a shiver ran through Jay as his pupils flared. His dick nudged Simon's thigh, already hard and just as surprising as earlier.
    It was one of those perception-shift things, when you look at something you've been